Jane, Robin, and Mrs. Fry! (9/30/09)

Bow and arrow update! Juan Carlos Guzmán-Betancourt, the Robin Hood who steals from the rich (in London hotels, for example) - but refrains from giving to the poor - has been caught. Sucka.

Juan Carlos Guzmán-Betancourt: Robin Hood EPIC FAIL.

Totally unrelated: There is a musical called Austentatious. It is about a community theater putting on a production of Pride and Prejudice.

1. WHY is this happening in Philadelphia, but NOT in New York?! Come to New York, please!


2. I am in love with this song about how their production is going to be the best production of Pride and Prejudice ever.

Jane Austen in musical form. That's like...taking a bath in marshmallows and chocolate sauce. Just decadent.

Speaking of Pride and Prejudice, ITV has some kind of weird plans to do a mod production that will air on 240 consecutive nights in 30-second clips. Hawt or nawt? We shall see.

My money for ITV's "explosive yet compact" P&P is on the heaving bosoms.

Probs not related to any of the above: Stephen Fry's alter-ego, Mrs. Stephen Fry, has a fab Twitter page. DO NOT FOLLOW IT. Mrs. Fry updates more than you can possibly imagine until you've witnessed the insanity first-hand, and you will NEVER see updates from any of the other celebs you're creepily stalking on the Interwebz. Instead, just bookmark her page. You'll thank me later.

Mrs. Stephen Fry: The Queen of Twitter

And THAT is Wednesday's news. The end.

Some Girls Have Curves (And Other Tidbits) (9/23/09)

The skinny on London Fashion Week…
…is that some girls who aren't skinny were allowed to strut their sexy stuff on the catwalk. Canadian designer Mark Fast was all, "I'm gonna use some plus-sized models for my show, eh?" And then his stylist and creative designer were all, "Fuck that! We only work with skinny bitches!" And then they quit. Because they're a couple of reeky rude-growing minnows.

Crystal Renn: Curvy and hawt.

Speaking of rude-growing minnows…
…check out this totally stupendous Shakespeare insult generator. And be prepared for some serious insulting going on up in here. I'm done calling people douchebags; now it's all about pigeon-liver'd codpieces and the sheep-biting faces of reeling-ripe bladders.

Is there a hoe in the house?
In what I'm pretty sure is a plot stolen from Alan Bennett's The Clothes They Stood Up In, the garden of a Staffordshire couple disappeared recently—shed, garden path, and all. They located it behind the home of their next-door neighbors.

Honey, I've misplaced the entire garden.

Voulez-vous faire la magie avec moi?
I may or may not have lost my mind and purchased $$$ worth of Harry Potter books en français yesterday. I blame my girl KK for allowing me to walk around Rockefeller Center by myself for an entire ten minutes. Don't you people know that I can't be trusted alone?

Harry Potter et L'ordre du Phénix: In which stuff happens in French.

The problem with using Harry Potter to teach myself French is that, while my magical (and murderous) vocabulary is now significantly more extensive than that of your average non-native speaker, I can't necessarily understand much of anything that would be useful in non-Hogwarts life.

Harry Potter et le Prince de Sang-Mêlé: In which more stuff happens in French.

But if I ever need to say, "Le jus de citrouille peut-il me tuer? Et où est le calmar géant? Et aussi, j'ai vu les fantômes ce matin, et ils sont jété des sorts mauvaises," then I'm all set.

(That was, in broken French: "Can this pumpkin juice kill me? And where is the Giant Squid? Also, I saw some ghosts this morning, and they were casting curses." Useful, right?)

One more thing:
Ladies and Gentlemen, live from the Cambridge Folk Festival 2007, the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain:



Oh, Shaft. Ever more awesome. Ever more ridiculous.

News: Taylor Swift Lurves Jane Austen! Etc.! (9/14/09)

Ahem.

Hi.

So, in case anyone was wondering whether I A) fell off the planet; B) said, "Eff it!" and moved into a fortress of Terry's Chocolate Orange and Crunchie bars; or C) decided to throw over everything I stand for and become a Francophile instead…well, never fear. I did none of those things. (Although option B is obviously still under consideration.)

I did, however, start my fall classes, which are inconsiderate enough to occupy the evening hours that I am accustomed to devoting to your edification and entertainment re: all things Anglo. Bastard classes.

Result: Let's see what happens if I promise ever so faithfully to update every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with extra posts thrown in, should time permit.

And now, on to the news:

1. Beyonce is a Brit?
   Miss B rocked the VMAs last night (I lurve that instead of lip-syncing during the chorus, she just dances her ass off and lets the recording take the vocals). But she closed her performance with a "Thank you very much indeed." It weirded me out a little, I'm not gonna lie.

Beyonce tore up the stage at the VMAs. Indeed.

2. Even British cats have accents.
   American cats say, "Meow." British cats say, "Miaow." I wonder if they take their milk with a bit of tea and sugar.
   
   This isn't actually news, of course, but I do love kitties. My roomie's kitty, one Fred the Cat, saved me from a ginormous alien bug last night. Go Fred!

Fred may look lascivious here, but she's got mad bug-locating skillz.

3. Taylor Swift rocks it like it's 1799.
   Last week, my country music-loving pops told me I would like the video to Taylor Swift's "Love Story." And people, let me tell you: I think Ms. Swift may have read Pride and Prejudice. Several times. Go watch the vid (and send lots of magmatic hate in the general direction of Kanye West, while you're at it).

Taylor Swift has a "Love Story" with Pride and Prejudice. Word.

4. Headteacher of school in Kent acts all crazy
   Headteacher Andrea Charman of Lydd Primary School let her students name, cuddle with, handfeed, and generally get all kinds of attached to a lamb. Then she sent said lamb (Marcus the sheep) to the slaughterhouse (more appealingly called an "abattoir" by the Times of London). Circle of life, food chain, etc. - I get it. But you can't raise a little lambkin as a pet and then send it to the chopping block. Bitch, are you crazy?

Marcus the sheep is condemned. What the eff?!

5. The Times of London on celebrity temper tantrums
   This bit about the Emperor Nero is awesome:
   

   Today’s celebrities have nothing on the emperors of Rome. Nero was particularly fond of a good shout, and once, rather depressingly, sent a party guest to his death. Other tantrums involved murdering his mother and kicking his wife to death

Emperor Nero: One crazy motherfucker

"Fond of a good shout" is my new favorite Anglicism. I think I'll go have a good shout right now.

The Guardian goes Chinese! (8/24/09)

Do you find reading the Guardian in plain old English to be dull? Then read it in Chinese! For reals! (One question: Is this content censored?)

Um...I'm working on a PC right now, so I don't have my usual awesome screen-capturing ability. Thus this ridiculous screenshot.

Also, if you have a weakness for Chinese takeout, you're not alone! Lily Allen does, too, and I heart this song from her latest, It's Not Me, It's You. It's about her mum! Awww! Cue heart-shaped balloon drop and all other manner of sappy things! (But don't allow the sappyness to mislead you. The track is hot.)



Anywho, if you can't read Chinese (or don't like Chinese food), that's okay! You're still allowed to read the Guardian in English. Perhaps you should check out this post about genre-repping albums. In brief, this week marks the 50th anniversary of Miles Davis's Kind of Blue, aka THE jazz album to own, whether you want to give jazz a big sloppy kiss or you just wish those motherfuckers would stop soloing and play the damn chorus already. For the latter crowd, Ben Wardle offers some other options for "albums you love from genres you hate."

Miles Davis knocks it out the park on Kind of Blue. Holla.

My genre-busters aren't the same as Wardle's, but regardless, I am a big believer in seeking out something you like from every genre, which I think is absolutely possible and is always beneficial for your aural explorations. And music makes the world go 'round and all that cheesy shizz. You know what I'm sayin'. (And don't play like No Strings Attached isn't off the chain. You know you love *NSync's "Bye Bye Bye"—and its fabulous video—just as much as I do.)

Britty Soundtrack to Central Park (8/19/09)

People, it is hot in New York. Makeup melts off your face. Fruit liquefies in your bag. You wear shorts to work, because who the fuck cares about dress codes? It's hot.

Enter my fave recourse from the heat: lying in the shade in Central Park while listening to a fab array of Britty music, cooing at dogs, and judging passersby for their poor fashion choices. Oh, yes.

The Playlist:

• The Sun and the Moon, by The Bravery
  
  So I meant to buy an album by obscure Manchester band The Sun and the Moon, which was recommended by the lovely Spin magazine. I accidentally bought this album by New Yorkers The Bravery instead. (Yeah, I obviously missed iTunes For Idiots day in school.)
  
  But no matter, 'cause it isn't too much of a stretch to interpret this entire album as a giant reference to Doctor Who (or your sci-fi obsession of choice). Especially "This Is Not the End." Extra-cool hook: The album plays through twice. The first round is the Sun version. The second round has the same lyrics and melodies, but different arrangements: the Moon. (I like the Moon better, but both are pretty ace.)
  
  Post Script: Maybe you shouldn't see these guys live. I was just looking for a video to post, but it seems that Auto-Tune is a necessity for your listening pleasure. Oops.



Take a trip in the TARDIS to The Sun and the Moon with The Bravery.


• The Best of Strange Cargos, by William Orbit
  
  As I suspected, William Orbit did not disappoint, although there is a skippable track (or two) in this collection. Good electronica, though, and probably great for drowning out subway noises whilst reading your Victorian novel of choice. Or, you know, children's books, if that's your thing. (Not that I ever read children's books, of course.)



Chillax in the park with William Orbit's The Best of Strange Cargos.


• Jane Austen Entertains, by Various Artists
  
  Oh. Em. Gee. Some mad-hat geniuses dug through Jane Austen's collection of music and recorded a bunch of it—at Chawton, where she lived with her mother and sister!—on "a piano similar to the one that Jane owned." This is pretty awesome. It's a mixture of solo piano, piano with voice, and piano with flute. It's fairly simplistic, and in addition to being a lovely lying-in-the-grass soundtrack, it would make a fab companion to an afternoon's needlework. Love this shizz!



Jane Austen Entertains. And how.

Tragically, this whole lying-in-the-park thing only flies on the weekend (what is with all this "work" my bosses keep making me do?), and since Monday it's been back to business as usual. But at least I know what my weekend plans are for the foreseeable future. That's something!

Update: Central Park got its ass kicked in a storm last night, and at least 100 trees are down! It looks like my East Side spot is okay, but still. Poor park. (Hat-tip to Kristina!)

Standing Up to the UK! (8/9/09)

For those of you who, like me, are plotting your eventual emigration to the motherland, I've got great news: Whole Foods UK! That's right. Your favorite purveyor of snotty, totally delish organic cuisine is based in Austin, Texas, but has opened stores in Great Britain, as well.

Whole Foods. Almost as good as Trader Joe's…but not quite.

Unfortch...it's sort of bleeding cash and has been doing poorly in general, and it may not survive much longer, though it is struggling to revamp by refocusing on health, rather than, say, Amy's Organic Frozen Pizza. Which may be organic, but is still frozen pizza.

In short, you should probs get your expat on sooner rather than later if you want to purchase your Whole Foods nibbles in pounds sterling.

Speaking of the United Kingdom versus the United States, per this (admittedly dated—and yet not, as it's fake) article over at The Onion, you Brits should give credit where credit is due. The US is a proper country by now, thanks! You may possess the wisdom of old age, as you creak in your Saxon-descendent rockers, but we're more than 200 years old, and we'd like to be treated as adults. Humph.

…Yeah. I love The Onion. Best line: "'I've admired the British ever since I saw them on PBS as a kid,' Prousalis added, blushing slightly. 'Do they have any idea how bad they make us feel when they disregard us like this?'" (British television does totally rock. You've got us there.)

"Holy sh**, General. The Americans have got light sabers, too. I thought we were the only ones with keys to the TARDIS!"

Now. Being serious. This is not fun, or amusing, but this article from the Independent about sexual abuse perpetrated by women—often mothers—is eye-opening. The article is not graphic, but discusses the difficulty victims have in getting anyone to take them seriously. Sadface.

But I shall, of course, leave you on a lighter note: William Orbit, the genius behind Madonna's exquisite, Grammy-winning album Ray of Light, has dropped a new record of his own, My Oracle Lives Uptown. Check out this article about the record (and his need to take a break from producing superstars). One of my college friends attempted to persuade me to buy some Orbit, but I never got around to it. I've just bought his 1996 collection The Best of Strange Cargos, though—said friend never led me wrong when it came to musical considerations, whether he was championing Britney Spears, Incubus, Bonnie Raitt, or Missy Elliott.

William Orbit: a senstive musician. How original.

And now I'm going to go squeeze what joy I can out of what bit of weekend is left. Wish me luck!

Toilets and Other Things

Good morning, readers! Today is Saturday. Lazy, lazy, lazy. And now I bring you various bits of news and views, courtesy of the British rags.

Pot Shots

It isn't every day that a centuries-old newspaper writes a detailed article about public toilets; or, as the Brits like to refer to them, "public conveniences." Isn't euphemism just lovely?

From concrete johns to pink mother-and-child pods (what, fathers never have to take their children to public loos?)—and never forgetting urinals with handy targets for those gentlemen who lack hand-to-eye coordination—this article has pretty much everything I ever needed to know about public conveniences.

S-bends of the future.

I don't know if London is having trouble with incontinence at the moment or what, but in other recent toilet-related news, the Guardian would like to offer you these rules for peeing in the shower. Memorize them, if you please.

Scotsman v Trump

In the real-life reprise to '80s film Local Hero, in which a Scotsman stands up to an evil, land-amassing Texan, Michael Forbes is defying The Donald's efforts to build a golf course on a tract of land that His Hairness's people have described as a "pigsty." Charming man, Trump.


At any rate, Forbes's family farm is in the middle of some land that Trumpy wants. Maybe they should arm wrestle for it. That's what Jon Stewart and Brian Williams would do.

Reining in the Fuzz

The upshot of some alleged police brutality following the London G20 demonstrations in April: Police have been ordered not to hold "vulnerable" people in riot-controlling cordons. Basically, if someone is gushing blood, police are now required to let them skedaddle. Do the protect and serve bunch actually have to be reminded of this sort of thing? This seems eminently obvious to me.

These guys are obviously hardened crime-fighters. Watch yer back.

Hope At Last

Things on the President Obama front have grown quite depressing stateside, so it was a relief to read this article about the support he's still enjoying on the international scene and pointing out that some actual changes have been effected, even if there hasn't been great domestic success as yet. To wit, some things I once thought it might never be possible to say:

"Abroad, optimism is still the order of the day. The style, and in some ways the substance, of US foreign policy has been transformed. America's image in the world is vastly improved."

The article also refers to the current incarnation of the Republican party as "intellectually bankrupt." Hee hee! Thanks, Independent! I'm feeling rather warm and fuzzy now. Let's watch the First Dance, shall we?



Awww. At last.

And now, off to do Saturday things, like making a long and impressive to-do list, followed by spending the day lying around reading magazines and watching TV instead.

"Because We Want To"! (8/6/09)

Uh-oh, y'all! Spontaneous vacation from blogging today. Since it's so late, I'm just gonna leave you with Billie Piper's video of "Because We Want To," per Filmi Girl's request. I'll be back atcha tomorrow!

Ladies, ladies, ladies! (And also WSJ.) (8/5/09)

Dudes. Doctor Who and He Knew He Was Right are totally interfering with my ability to blog. And with my life in general. Because they are both TOTALLY RAD and obsessive-making.

But the Internet never stops, and neither do I! On we go:

1. Anglotastic scoops the Wall Street Journal! That's right. On Sunday, I told y'all that the Tea-Drinkers are tightening their immigration laws to keep me out. Well, yesterday, the Wall Street Journal told you the same thing.
   
   I am awesome.
   
   
   Just say no to the Journal.


2. Harriet Harman, deputy Prime Minister during Gordon Brown's vacay, is standing up for women's rights and demanding tougher rape laws. This is both awesome and hilarious. (Can you imagine an American political stand-in actually taking charge during their week holding the reins?) Of course, The Daily Mail has a bit of a different take on this, and feels that the "already stretched Health Service" shouldn't have to conduct studies on how to reduce the risk of violence to women, and anyway, some unnamed statistics show that men are actually the chief victims of violence, so down with feminism! I don't know much about British politics, but I'm pretty sure that violence against women is a human rights issues. Not a women's rights issue. 'Kay thanks bye.


Harriet Harman takes the reins.


3. In the understatement of the year, Sienna Miller acknowledges that having an affair with a father of four (and showing up topless in pics with said father) means that she "probably [doesn't] seem very nice." She also denies being a "sh*****." Can anyone tell me what word has been bleeped out there? Chances are good that I would like to add it to my vocabulary.



Sienna Miller is not a "sh*****." Except that she kind of is.


4. Billie Piper plays the fabulous Rose in Doctor Who. She was also a '90s pop star. Pure, high-fructose-corn-syrup-sweet '90s music. Dig it. And now we reminisce with "Day and Night."

Billie Piper is poptastic.

Oh, hell yes. Dance party like it's 1999!

December Boys! Daniel Radcliffe! Australia? (7/15/09)

OK, so I'mma just get this out the way, right off the bat: Daniel Radcliffe is hawt. It was at the opening night showing of Order of the Phoenix that I first realized it, and by the end of the movie, I had two burning questions:

1. When did Harry Potter get buff? and


2. When did I become a pedophile?

At least he's not a teenager anymore. (Is he? I think he's in his twenties now. You know what? Don't tell me if he isn't. Let's just say he's in his twenties now.)


All of that said, he's also an excellent actor. In rewatching any of the Potter films, I'm always a little disappointed by the emphasis on action content—I'd like to see Radcliffe doing all of that shouting Harry does in the books. (I'm not seeing HBP until Friday night—so no reaction on that front just yet!) But when I finally got around to seeing Equus (which I had been putting off on account of going to see Radcliffe naked made me feel like a dirty pedophile), I got to see him shouting his head off, and it was amazing. (The nudity, which was very much essential to the traumatizing scene it takes place in, was tastefully done—and the play was extremely good.)

Now, to the point: December Boys. The movie (which is actually Australian) is OK. Radcliffe's character, Maps, has a really engaging storyline (and gets in some good shouting, too), but it's held back till very late in the film, which focuses instead, and often not very interestingly, on four orphans (Maps included) frolicking at the seashore and vying for favor from potential adoptive parents. Still, on the whole, it's quite engaging. (Also, Radcliffe, who was maybe 15 at the time, is looking hotter than usual. So that adds a whole other level of appeal slash creepiness.)


And then there's the music. The score is god-awful and emotionally manipulative—all melodramatic strings during life-threatening situations and suspended cymbal swells at emotional climaxes. Which is to say that this movie about orphans (plus a fatal illness or two) did not make me cry.

Um. Yeah. Just to put my lack of weeping into perspective:

• Avenue Q (yes, the parody of Sesame Street with songs like "The Internet Is For Porn" and "Everyone's A Little Bit Racist") makes me cry.


• Scrubs makes me cry.


• Reading about Jane Austen succumbing to Addison's disease makes me cry.


• Seeing Mary Tyler Moore cry makes me cry.

A movie about orphans that doesn't make me cry = Epic Fail. No matter how hot or talented Daniel Radcliffe is. (Sorry, Daniel!)

So. Back to that. As with Equus, the media attention focused much more on his "sex scene" (which consists of some fully clothed making out—the Deed takes place offscreen), which wasn't as important as the shouting scenes, and now I'm quite ready to see him in more post-Potter work. More shouting, if you please!

Rabies, Budgies, Wizard Rock (7/11/09)

This just in: Incest is not the only benefit that can be derived from living on an island. You could also be rabies-free since 1922! Of course, if we, like the UK, were rabies-free, we would get much less mileage out of foaming-at-the-mouth jokes.


And so consider this a public service announcement: If you, like me, are fantasizing about moving to the land of tea and biscuits, you'll need to get a microchip placed in your dog, cat, or ferret(!), after which said pet will need a rabies vaccination, followed by a blood test taken at least six months before you'll be landing in the UK. Otherwise, your wuvable wittle Snookums will languish in quarantine for six whole months, which is probably enough time for you to be deported for insufficient football fanaticism.

In other pet news, I've spent ages wondering what a budgie is, and I had finally determined that it must be some sort of wombatty, squirrel-like rodent.

Um, not so much. A budgerigar is just an effing parakeet. I should look things up before making up elaborate backstories involving marsupial/rodent migrations from Morocco (aided and abetted by flightless birds with hearts of gold). Whatever. It was a good story. Anyway, the one below has a British accent. (And when it says, "Harold, Theodora, Nick'las, Nick'las," don't be fooled. It's actually saying knickers!)



If anyone who is in or near Massachusetts is as excited as I am about Half-Blood Prince, you should totally go see Harry and the Potters play a show in a cave (well, a chasm) in Sutton, Mass., this Tuesday night. These guys put on The. Most. Fun. Shows. Ever. And join them at a midnight showing of HBP in the local theater after their cave show! I wish, wish, wish I could be there. But "going to see a wizard rock band play in a cave" does not actually carry the same weight as a doctor's note, apparently, so there's no getting off of work for that one.


Also, check out What Would Dumbledore Do? over at the HP Alliance for a collection of blogs relating wizarding world morals to Muggle world morals. Totally inspirational. And very, very Dumbledore.

As the man himself would say, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"