overheard at the Kingston…

Scarjo

“and she’s what? Thirty? And she’s a total has-been…” said the comfortably-upholstered blonde not that far from thirty herself, to her expensively-if-more-selectively-padded circle of friends. Once you get implants, you pretty much have to shop at Bebe because nothing else fits.

“Yes, she is. Yes, she is,” agreed the brunette chorus. “But she really used to have the body.”

“I know,” said one. “But who’d have thought it would be him who’d turn out to be the smart one? The stable one? The better one?”

“She’s so overweight now. She’ just…have you seen her? She’s trying for a comeback, but she’s just…over. She can’t do work. It’s sad, really. Ever since the baby…He’s got it together, he really does. What a shock.”

And I’m sitting there, staring into my Martini and occasionally pretending to read my book, but the fact is that trying to figure out who they’re talking about is far more compelling than reading about Michel Mauvais, his accurst offspring Charles Le Sorcier, and their various intrigues in the deserted and time-haunted Castle of No Name.

And I’m thinking Affleck? Nah! Because the fact is that not only can it not be said that Jennifer Garner has let herself go, but it must be said that Ben has had it going on for quite some time and being visibly relatively together shouldn’t be cause for shock among a table of pub-going strangers, even after Gigli, or so ya’d think.

But the blonde is going on…

It appears, it doth, that her boyfriend/husband/whatever works in the film business, and this star, whoever she is or once was (it’s the movies that got small!) was up here filming something, and that, while she was filming this movie for which she was paid several million dollars, some jewelry went missing from her wardrobe. Oh, not diamonds, says the blonde, nothing like that. Only about four thousand dollar’s worth. But gone it was, and not merely misplaced, but stolen. And found in the star’s possession.
And at this point I rule that nice Jennifer Garner out entirely.

“Yeah,” says a brunette. “Who’d have thought the one with his shit together would turn out to be K.Fed.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

Harold Bloom, literary lion, loses his shit on Potter fans…again

Harold Bloom

Some of those New York intellectual types can be rather tightly wound. Here, the OriginalUnoriginal reports as eminence grise Harold Bloom, the king of litcrit heavyweights, Sterling Professor for the Humanities at Yale University, and Berg Professor of English and American Literature at New York University, goes apeshit on some hapless Pottermaniacs.

“It’s crap! It’s fucking crap! It’s double fucking crap!” He ranted at the assembly of overtly nerdy adults and blank-faced children – many wearing faux dark-rimmed glasses and wizard hats – who seemed more perplexed by Bloom’s sub-references than intimidated by his harangue.

“What’s a Northrop Frye?” one school-aged boy with an “I Heart Hogwarts” t-shirt asked his mother.

“I don’t know,” she responded. “Maybe some kind of breakfast special?”

He was taken away in an ambulance, attended closely by officers of the NYPD, but was expected to make a full recovery after a course of treatment at St. Mungo’s Hospital.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

Support Al Kemal for Mayor of London: the People’s Choice!

Boris Johnson in fezLook, Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson, MP, (Eton, Oxon) Of That Ilk and Running As Such is just never going to win the hearts and minds, much less the votes, of the fish and chips crowd. You know it, I know it, he hasn’t a bloody clue, which is where competent staff comes in.

While it appears increasingly likely that BoJo is going to declare his candidacy for Mayor of London (perhaps entranced, as are we all, by visions of blond, fluffy clouds of fur floating over black velvet robes) realistically he will have to work his uppers to the crust if he wants to rule the rank and file. His opponent is Ken Livingstone, a charismatic and iron-willed lefty in the Trudeau Fuck You vein known as Red Ken.

In fairness, it must be said that about the only person in the UK who’s offended more people than Boris is Red Ken himself. So if nothing else, this campaign will be on 24-hour gaffe alert on both sides.

Still, Boris can’t afford to coast on looks, charm, and the implicit opportunity of below-stairs patronage appointments at the Spectator. Or the Times.

Boris needs to reach out to Londonistan. He has to become The Man of the People, even if he only encounters those people in the form of a studio audience. We here at the ol’ raincoaster blog have long studied the phenomenon that is Bojo, and we, being somewhat leftist ourself(s?), feel that we can come up with a statement providing a new direction, a new vision, even a new Boris Johnson.

Behold:

Al Kemal* is the People’s Choice for Mayor of London

Boris Johnson

From his humble beginnings as a Turko**-American*** immigrant from a broken home, Al’s life has been a series of struggles, a succession of successes. He is an inspiration to the entire Islamic community, and a leader for our globalized times.

Born in an American Stalinist medical facility**** to foreign parents, he spent his early years nomadically, drifting from country to country***** as his feckless father moved the family in search of lasting employment******. When Al eventually landed in the UK as a child of 11*******he had no more than the proverbial tenner in his pocket*******. An innovative and extraordinarily inclusive admissions program at one local school allowed young Al the kinds of educational advantages normally only enjoyed by native Britons of elevated standing, despite differences in background, ethnicity, and even religion.*********

Al made the most of those opportunities, eventually securing a place at Balliol, living out the dreams Thomas Hardy had written for him more than a hundred years before.********** While there, he became instrumental in the operation of the British-Arab University Association, and rose through sheer grim slogging to be the first Turko-American member of the Bullingdon Club. Additionally, he was the favoured candidate of the Social Democratic Party, clearly demonstrating his centrist, mainstream, populist leanings at an early age.***********

Al was active in social outreach programs, making friends among even the criminal classes.************

Although Al appeared to have overcome his past as the child of a broken home, the pattern reasserted itself. Married too young, Al put his first marriage behind him and eventually settled down with (and subsequently married) a nice Englishwoman from the showbusiness class, with whom he has had four children.*************

Al’s early forays into politics were humbling, to say the least.*************** Nonetheless, he came back to have a moderately successful career as a television presenter and in local politics, as well as gaining notoriety on the sports field*****************.

No stranger to disadvantage, exclusion and setbacks, Al Kemal is truly Everyman for the new London of the Twenty-First Century.

——————————————————————————————

*Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson’s original family name was Kemal. His family calls him Al.

** Kemal is Turkish…his great-grandfather was Ali Kemal, an ill-fated Turkish journalist who became a government official and came to a sticky end. Obviously learning from the past is not a family trait. Ali Kemal was not, it should be noted, Catholic. Yay, Islamic outreach!

*** Boris Al was born in Manhattan.

**** In some godforsaken Yankee hospital: they’re all bloody HMOs nowadays. Poor bugger’s lucky he’s still alive.

***** Seriously, are we sure they aren’t Rom? First the UK, then a move to the States, then Belgium (Belgium, for chrissakes…how bloody desperate do you have to be to look for work in Belgium?), then the UK again. Can’t these people settle down and commit to one country? Is that too much to ask? Bloody gypsies!

****** See above. Two footnotes looked more impressive, and nobody reads this shit anyway.

******* To attend Eton. Must have been an equal-opportunity initiative or some kind of ethnic scholarship. Good work, Al!

******** I am estimating this, based on the fact that most young Etonians don’t keep cash in their pockets. They keep it in their manservant’s pockets.

********* He’s Catholic. I know, doesn’t look it eh? So that’s the Catholic vote sewn up.

********** Thomas Hardy is so going to fucking kill me for this.

*********** No proof exists that he actually ran for the SDP, but on the other hand no proof exists that he didn’t, either.

************ Darius Guppy, who also attempted unsuccessfully to involve Al in criminal activities. That’s our Al, never afraid to do social outreach.

************* Marina Wheeler, a lawyer. Handy, when you’ve got Al’s friends.

*************** Wales so totally kicked his ass.

**************** YouTube

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

quiz: what kind of backstabber are you?

Why, I don’t know what this quiz writer could have been thinking! Click on the demented quiz button to take it yourself. This is incredibly inaccurate!

And hey, have I mentioned you’re looking great lately? Have you lost weight, changed your hair? Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

a salute to the troops

Canadian Troops

Instead of racking my brains to come up with a (likely inferior) way of expressing my gratitude to the troops overseas, I think I’ll just suggest you read this eloquent letter from Lorrie Goldstein in the Winnipeg Sun. While reading it, I was thinking of a girl I used to babysit, now a mother of three and on her third tour of duty in Afghanistan. And I was thinking of Trevor Greene, still in St Paul’s Hospital, still working on rebuilding his life after an ambush and an axe to the head.

While you are reading this letter, never for one moment forget that the decision to go overseas, to become involved in wars, peacekeeping actions, and all such deployments, is a decision that is made not by military personnel, but by politicians. Direct your own letters and thoughts accordingly.

Given the recent lacklustre support by Toronto City Council for the men and women now serving our nation in Afghanistan, we dedicate today’s editorial celebrating Canada’s 140th birthday to all members of our military.

Thank you for choosing to serve Canada, whether you were born here or came here from another country.

Thank you for deciding that Canada is worth defending, both at home and abroad.

Thank you for being ready to sacrifice everything, not just a safe, comfortable life here at home with your loved ones, but your very lives, if necessary, to protect us and those who are in need of our protection abroad.

To the families of all who serve in our military, thank you for sharing your precious sons, daughters, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandchildren, relatives and friends with us.

Like you, we pray they will complete their missions and return home safely to you as soon as possible. Like you, we pray for a just and lasting peace.

To those who face the unimaginable grief on this Canada Day, and every Canada Day to come, of missing the presence of a loved one because they died in the service of their country, know that we are thinking of you today.

That we grieve with you. That we pray for you. And that we will remember those you loved, and what they did for us and to help people they didn’t even know, forever.

To their parents, thank you for raising sons and daughters who willingly answered the call of their country.

We will always think of them as the fine young men and women of military bearing, frozen forever in the flower of youth, that we see in the pictures released upon their deaths.

But we know you remember them in a thousand different ways built up over a lifetime of memories — of lazy summer days, at family celebrations and of how they looked on their first day of school, or on the day they graduated.

To the wives, husbands and children of all those who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of their country, we cannot imagine the depth of your loss.

But we share your pride in who they were and like you, we celebrate what they did with their lives, because their lives mattered.

And so on this Canada Day, on our nation’s 140th birthday, we remember them, because they represent what Canada is all about at its very best.

Strong, free, honourable, compassionate — and dedicated to the service of others

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank