Friday, August 13, 2004
We'll Miss You, Julia:
While Whopundit enjoys meatloaf sandwiches and mashed potatoes and gravy as much as the next political-and-indie-music blog, we send out condolences to one of the most influential Americans of the 20th century (in a positive way, for a change), Julia Child. The cooking show pioneer died today at 91.
If you don't think she's worth getting worked up about, just picture a sea of pot roasts, boiled vegetables and maddening blandness, which she parted, Moses-like, with her landmark books and drunken television shows.
Knowing her mostly from her shows with Jacques Pepin, I'm obviously too young to truly understand her accomplishments. But I'm a huge fan of cooking shows in general, and I know that without Child, none of it would be even remotely possible.
When rock stars die, they always say, "God's got a new bassist for His band." Well, I guess He was hungry.
White House: No Terror Attack Imminent
In other words, it's time to head for the hills
Remember the recent terror alert, and all those unpatriotic media folk and Democrats who implied it might just be politics?
Well, it was, according to one White House official, who also just did Al Qaeda the favor of telling them that if they ARE planning an imminent attack, we're clueless.
But remember, folks: Bush will make you safer. He'll just jerk you around a bit first with meaningless color-coded signals. Because if there's anything Republican politicians know how to do, it's send coded signals about color.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Cheney's Big Applause Line:
Put your hands together... it's The Future
From his stump speech, given today in Michigan and Ohio:
What we're hearing from the other side is the failed thinking of the past, and we're not going back. (Applause)Yeah, the 1990s really sucked, man. Let's blaze ahead with this post-millennial, rainbow-terror-alert, War on Jobs decade. The '00s are like this really hoppin' bar, and I hope it's never last call!
But please, Mr. Cheney, do you have to keep pretending Bush didn't try to veto the same $87 billion your opponents voted against?
Honey, I'm Home:
Wanna see Alan Keyes' house in Calumet City, Illinois?
He's taking the second floor of this respectably non-descript two-flat on what is reportedly a quiet residential street.
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
When push-polling doesn't come to shove
The Bush campaign spread rumors in South Carolina four years ago that McCain fathered a black child. Fortunately, McCain knows who his daddy is, as this photo from the New York Times website shows -- though his ardent embrace verges on romantic, not filial.
Of course, Wonkette beat me to this one. That hilarious bitch. Oh, Atrios, too.
Monday, August 09, 2004
No Deep Thought Left Behind
Those who do, do; those who can't are president
Today's educational tidbit from the Leader of the Free World:
I'm telling you, when you start asking the question, can you read and write and add and subtract, all of a sudden, people start learning better.Magic! I'd better pass that along to my girlfriend in Teach for America.
Oh, and it gets better:
It's a mediocre system when you quit on kids basically because of the color of their skin, you know?Gee, when you put it that way...
Sunday, August 08, 2004
Take a Look at Phil Now
Postal Service makes Collins -- gasp -- good
I'll post a review later of the forthcoming Wicker Park soundtrack. Suffice it to say, the album aims to be a Singles soundtrack for the indie-rock generation. It doesn't really succeed. (Edit: Um, what the hell is an indie-rock generation, anyway?)
But ever since I first heard of the album, I've been eager to see how the Postal Service would render a Phil Collins cover, "Against All Odds." I mean, Phil Collins? But Ben Gibbard, the singing half of the Postal Service alongside Dntel's Jimmy Tamborello, has already admitted liking cheese-meisters Hall & Oates, so it's not surprising.
Nearly all of Gibbard's work with the Postal Service and his primary band, Death Cab for Cutie, has been nothing less than stellar. So it's not surprising that "Against All Odds" is ridiculously entertaining... and yet, Phil Collins. Wow.
The track begins with bass (and, on my shitty speakers, the ensuing fuzz) obscuring Gibbard's fragile, soft vocals. In this sparse arrangement, the melodicism of Collin's composition -- masked by the original's bombast -- comes to the fore. Tamborello works his magic as the volume turns up, and the song becomes a glitch-laden exercise in futuristic drum and bass.
I can't yet endorse the rest of the album, let alone the movie. But if you can get your hands on this track, do so. (In other words, the Comic Book Store Guy was wrong.)