Remember the good old days when Barbara Walters still had tear ducts? It was around the same time we still pretended it was an accent and not a speech impediment. Ms. Walters seemed to have it all -- a good rep in the news world, those wascally Oscar specials, and 20/20 with Huge Downs. But the world was not enough for Barbara and so in her one spare moment that year, she breathed life into a still standing estrogen fest called The View.
She populated this brave new world with journalistically well hung Meredith (Baxter) Vieira, Joy Behar, edgy enough to maybe, just maybe go off on someone, Queen of the Lawyuhr Laydees Star Jones and the young and innocent (dumb) Debbie Matenopolous. When Barbara wasn't busy getting her face pulled like Mona did in Brazil, she'd sit in with les girls.
At first Debbie M. seemed like a breath of fresh air and then, she opened her mouth. From that moment on, it was clear that she had to go. SNL even got in on the act spoofing the dumbness that was Debbie by throwing her in a large bag with snakes and clubbing her. In real life, poor Debbie was eventually eaten by Star Jones and just like that, the world's problems were solved. Yay!
Right now I feel a little like Debbie. Each time I open my mouth, a lot of hot air escapes and so I close it again. I haven't had an idea of my own in ages and so I've been a little like sponge toffee and soaked up what some of you guys like to get up to.
I now present Exbibits 1 through however many I may have already forgotten:
Angela mentioned the Warhol exhibit. I went to the gallery and wrote about it.
Beth brought up her love of Lyle Lovett and His Large Band. I went to his concert and wrote about it.
Holly talked about a documentary called New York Doll about Arthur Killer Kane. I saw it and wrote about it.
Skincarver/Creepy wrote about the film The 3 Burials of Melquiades Estrada. I watched and wrote about it.
Ziggy mentioned The Saddest Music In The World. I played along at home and wrote about it.
Coaster Punchman and Lulu waxed eloquently about Roberston Davies. I ordered a trilogy and will write about it.
All I want to know before I go any further is, which one of you has the bag of snakes?
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6 months ago
12 comments:
Samuel L. Jackson. And for your information they are called tangents.
We feed off of each other. Chill.
Just shut this blog down awrreddy!
(1) I don't have any snakes, Dale, but I have plenty of clubs. Some of them are titanium.
(2) I've seen plenty of bloggers who only refer to other postings on the Internet (or as Bush says, the Internets). But this post is original. Others have been as well. Some people don't write at all when they have writer's block. At least you're keeping in touch.
(3) If you open up your mouth, and nothing but hot air escapes, look on the bright side. Think about all of the money you can save on your heating bill this fall.
Okay, I'll accept you as Debbie, but who in your list of examples is Star Jones?
It's gotta be me, right?
Ah, Dale, you pretty little thing. We know you're here to be seen, not to think, so we don't mind helping out.
But Dale-- don't forget the fact that YOU write about seeing movies or listening to music or reading a book or whatever, which will then motivate OTHER PEOPLE (or at least the particular other person who is me) to see said movie/ listen to said music/ read said book/ appropriately consume said whatever, and that we (I) have then blogged about the experience.
So you're not just sponge toffee: You're chocolate-covered sponge toffee, which melts onto the hands of those of us who pick you up and handle you for any length of time.
Think of those of us that aren't even worthy to make your stolen idea list, we don't care if your ideas are ripped off. We're you're biggest fan.
So don't be suprised when I run you over and Chel tends to your broken leg.
Dale,
I know you're just spoofing yourself, but I think the notion of paying attention to what someone else says or writes, then responding with your own take on the same subject, is called "having a conversation or a dialogue".
I don't think we're required to interject completely new subjects into everything we say or write for it to be considered creative.
I also like Robertson Davies a lot, though have only read the Deptford Trilogy. I use the 5th business analogy pretty frequently (a sign that I have no original ideas either). I went through this stretch of reading Canadian writers. I think in the same three or four month period, I started reading Mordecai Richler and Margaret Atwood.
I sometimes wonder what a guy's version of the View would be like. We sort of have one, ESPN, but it seems possible to me that not all North American males watch ESPN 24/7.
Dale, your very existence on the Webs provides us reason to keep going.
Regarding The View, all I can do is recycle another eloquent webmaster's comment about this show: "What in God's name did we do to deserve THIS?"
I feel so privileged (and not at all bovvered) to have been soaked up by the Dale.
I'm chillin' Old Lady, take more than a bag of snakes to slow me down. Well, maybe a bag of toothless snakes.
I should but I just cain't Ms. Espanya. Welcome back from the coast.
So it might be X. Dell with the golf clubs in the Internets? I don't have a clue.
Mob, I could tell you but then I'd have to have X. Dell club you. And nobody wants to see that happen.
It's always you Saviour but how am I supposed to point the finger at such an icon and get away with it?
Beth, you're so wise. You see right to the bottom of my shallow end. This doesn't sound right.
Well, I do love being handled for any length of time so Holly? Thank you. You're at least as sweet as the toffee. But less sticky. I think.
CC, never you fear, I think I've stolen from every single one of you and almost all of you are indeed worthy! Please don't run me over. Yet. And where is Chelene? Ironing her Florence Nightingale costume and trying on her fierce boots?
Nope, absolutely wrong Chancelucky. No idea what you're talking about. How did you get this number? Watch the game last night? Your observations are almost always welcome and gasp, make sense!
Coaster Punchman - you're such a good liar that I'm choosing to believe you and will dedicate my next meal to you or something like that.
Ziggy, you're soaking in it right now! I ain't bovvered either!
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