I want to come out strong and hard, right now, for Hillary Clinton for president.
I would have voted for her had she been the nominee in '08. I voted for Obama because he wasn't John McCain, who I like, and against the notion that Sarah Palin could possibly be the leader of the free world.
I think Hillary Clinton would be a perfect president. She is smart and tough as nails. She has survived an interesting (to say the least) marriage to President Bill Clinton and has produced a daughter who, by all measure, seems like a nice girl.
Hillary is a lawyer so she knows the value of a good argument supported by facts and precedent.
But most importantly she knows how Washington works. One of the great criticisms of President Obama is that he came to Washington as a naïve rube palpably unfamiliar with the real life, real time way in which the government operates.
Sure he had been a Senator but the truth is that he spent a fair amount of his tenure there running for president and had come to the Senate with very little legislative experience.
It seems, in retrospect, that he squandered a fair amount of his first term trying to get along with the Republicans who were, simultaneously, bent on his destruction (see: Mitch McConnell)
Obama thought that if he played nice, extended his hand in friendship and made moderate proposals, that the GOP would meet him halfway and we would enter his "Post Partisan" political universe.
How wrong his hypothesis proved to be. The Republicans weren't at all interested in playing ball with Obama. All they wanted to do was frustrate him at every turn just waiting for '12 when they could take back The White House.
The trouble was that they put up the wrong man for the job accompanied by the wrong running mate. The country was in no mood for the upper crust version of America that Romney exuded nor were they interested in the austere manner in which Ryan proposed fixing the finances of this country.
So Obama won a second term. Now we see politics as they are really played. We hear tough talk and a "my way or the highway" policy tone coming from the Executive branch.
Gone is the smiling, jovial, innocent Obama. Now we have the Terminator. And what has happened?
Right out of the gate we have the twinklings of bi-partisan agreement on immigration reform. We have a vigorous debate about guns and, with Obama's Stonewall reference, the possibility of true civil rights in the US rather than merely civil unions.
Hillary Clinton knows how to talk tough and, more to the point, be tough. She took no crap from the senators arrayed against her at the Benghazi hearings and she will take no crap from the Congress when she's caused to deal with them on the issues of the day.
She's been there and she knows how to play the game.
Put aside, for a minute, all of the noise about her past. About Vince Foster, about Health Care, about the Terminator Seed.
What we need in The White House is someone who knows what's up and is not afraid to fight.
And the fact that she'd be the first woman in the job is a wonderful bonus. We need a woman in the job.
God knows the men have screwed it up for long enough now. If we can have women on the front lines of war we can damned well have them in the presidency.
So...Hillary Rodham Clinton for president in 2016.
Count me in.
But please, Madam Former Secretary/Former Senator/Former First Lady.
Lose the glasses.
Please...lose the ugly friggin' glasses. You're much better looking without them...
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
WWJD?
Seriously, what would Jesus do?
Imagine, for a moment, that somehow, we could make Jesus appear, magically.
There you are, sitting on a bench, minding your own business and, Presto! There he is. Jesus. Of Nazareth.
The reason you know it's him is that, not only does it look like him, beard, robe, etc. But he's carrying a Martin guitar which is made in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. Near Bethlehem, also in Pennsylvania. And all this time you thought it was Nazareth...in the old country. Funny...
Anyway, here's Jesus. The man, the myth, the legend.
Do you approach him? Do you say "hi?" Do you wait for him to come up to you?
If it's me, I go up to him. I put out my hand and I say, "Jesus? How are you? Welcome. Wanna sit and visit for a bit?"
Given that he's new in town my suspicion is that he says "yes" and now you're off to the races.
Obviously you both have a lot of questions. "Can you save us?" "What did you really mean?" "Are you married or not?"
His questions are no less interesting. "What's that thing in your hand that you keep fiddling with?" "Why is there a metal ring in your nose?" "What's an Obama?"
But ultimately you look to Jesus for some answers. Granted, he has already given us a few, the whole New Testament thing, you know. But things seem to be going to Hell in a hand basket and Hell is, after all, something that Jesus is supposed to know about.
Well not Hell, necessarily, but certainly Heaven. He's been there, or so goes the folklore. The Last Supper, Easter, The Resurrection. All of that stuff.
As the story goes, Jesus was crucified, put in a cave and, after a day or so, emerged from the cave, spoke a few words and then went off into history.
Believe it or don't but it suggests that Jesus would be an authority on the afterlife, Heaven, if he, in fact, had the experience that is credited to him.
So if he's been to Heaven and seen God then he can tell us the best ways to avoid Hell. And the hand basket for that matter.
He would reiterate the Love thing, the "love thy neighbor" business as well as the "turn the other cheek" line of conflict resolution.
He had some good ideas, or so we are led to believe. He had publicists and boosters, mind you, but even if he said only half of the things that we think he said, he's still way ahead of most of us, especially those of us who speak "in his name."
Some of those guys are unreal. They prance and pontificate and preach "the word of God" as if they know.
What do they know? They know what they've read or what has been told to them but nothing of the real word. They weren't there. How could they know the truth?
But here you are face to face with "The Man". The Big Kahuna. Himself.
"What should we do?"
He 's not going to reinvent the prophecy wheel. He's not going to amend his previous declarations. He's simply going to restate the obvious.
If you are nice to people and treat them with respect and offer them love they will treat you in kind.
Jesus was a nice guy. He was a part time carpenter, loved his parents, had some close friends and spent his short life walking around telling people to be kind to one another.
How can that be bad.
But what we have done in the past 2000 years, "in his name" is to twist and corrupt his words of love and use them to our own selfish advantage.
So if I'm sitting there, minding my own business and, all of a sudden, Jesus appeared and wanted to talk I'd only have one thing to say.
"Please forgive me."
Imagine, for a moment, that somehow, we could make Jesus appear, magically.
There you are, sitting on a bench, minding your own business and, Presto! There he is. Jesus. Of Nazareth.
The reason you know it's him is that, not only does it look like him, beard, robe, etc. But he's carrying a Martin guitar which is made in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. Near Bethlehem, also in Pennsylvania. And all this time you thought it was Nazareth...in the old country. Funny...
Anyway, here's Jesus. The man, the myth, the legend.
Do you approach him? Do you say "hi?" Do you wait for him to come up to you?
If it's me, I go up to him. I put out my hand and I say, "Jesus? How are you? Welcome. Wanna sit and visit for a bit?"
Given that he's new in town my suspicion is that he says "yes" and now you're off to the races.
Obviously you both have a lot of questions. "Can you save us?" "What did you really mean?" "Are you married or not?"
His questions are no less interesting. "What's that thing in your hand that you keep fiddling with?" "Why is there a metal ring in your nose?" "What's an Obama?"
But ultimately you look to Jesus for some answers. Granted, he has already given us a few, the whole New Testament thing, you know. But things seem to be going to Hell in a hand basket and Hell is, after all, something that Jesus is supposed to know about.
Well not Hell, necessarily, but certainly Heaven. He's been there, or so goes the folklore. The Last Supper, Easter, The Resurrection. All of that stuff.
As the story goes, Jesus was crucified, put in a cave and, after a day or so, emerged from the cave, spoke a few words and then went off into history.
Believe it or don't but it suggests that Jesus would be an authority on the afterlife, Heaven, if he, in fact, had the experience that is credited to him.
So if he's been to Heaven and seen God then he can tell us the best ways to avoid Hell. And the hand basket for that matter.
He would reiterate the Love thing, the "love thy neighbor" business as well as the "turn the other cheek" line of conflict resolution.
He had some good ideas, or so we are led to believe. He had publicists and boosters, mind you, but even if he said only half of the things that we think he said, he's still way ahead of most of us, especially those of us who speak "in his name."
Some of those guys are unreal. They prance and pontificate and preach "the word of God" as if they know.
What do they know? They know what they've read or what has been told to them but nothing of the real word. They weren't there. How could they know the truth?
But here you are face to face with "The Man". The Big Kahuna. Himself.
"What should we do?"
He 's not going to reinvent the prophecy wheel. He's not going to amend his previous declarations. He's simply going to restate the obvious.
If you are nice to people and treat them with respect and offer them love they will treat you in kind.
Jesus was a nice guy. He was a part time carpenter, loved his parents, had some close friends and spent his short life walking around telling people to be kind to one another.
How can that be bad.
But what we have done in the past 2000 years, "in his name" is to twist and corrupt his words of love and use them to our own selfish advantage.
So if I'm sitting there, minding my own business and, all of a sudden, Jesus appeared and wanted to talk I'd only have one thing to say.
"Please forgive me."
Monday, January 28, 2013
Predictions!
This is the 43rd Annual KW Predictions Post. Well, actually it's really the 1st but calling it the 43rd gives it a more credible sound, n'est-ce pas?
In light of the Ravens-Niners matchup on Super Bowl Sunday I predict the Ravens by 7.
I make this prediction with no scientific backup at all. Furthermore I am a Niners fan having lived in San Francisco when they won the championship against the Bengals. It was incredibly exciting and I can still hear The City screaming when I opened the sliders on my friend's San Bruno deck after Dwight Clark made "The Catch" during the playoffs. It was a wonderful time in the City by The Bay.
So I pick the Ravens. I pick them for three reasons:
1) They are due, especially after the Colts went to Indianapolis and left Baltimore, poor "Ballmer" without Johnny Unitas' team.
2) Michael Oher's story was so brilliantly told in "Blindside" that I can't imagine rooting for any other team. And I don't want to get a look from Leigh Anne Tuohy at anytime during my lifetime, should I have the honor of meeting her and she had read my predictions and they weren't for the Ravens to win. Not ever...
3) My wife is cheering for the Ravens.
Personally, I am not a huge sports fan. To be completely honest I really don't care that much.
I grew up in New York and I suppose I am a Yankee fan, mostly because my folks were to the extent that they cared. But I lived in Massachusetts for 25 years and therefore have an affection for the Red Sox.
But then again, I like the Brewers logo and the Mets have a new stadium (even though it will always, and forever be Shea...) and I saw the Marlins once when I was in Miami on a project.
But, truth be told, I wish the Cubs would win one. Once. In my lifetime. I've only been to Chicago a few times and my mother was born there but the Cubbies deserve one. If the Red Sox can have a World Series title then the Cubs should have one too. It only seems fair...no?
So...the Ravens by a touchdown.
My pick. Take it to the bank. Bet on it.
If anybody knows sports it's me. And my wife.
We know sports.
Pass the Gatorade please. And since there are no wings may I please have more hummus?
Mmmmmmm. Nothing like the Super Bowl and Hummus.
Or Tabouli. Or Carob brownies. Or Tofu dogs.
Let's party!!
In light of the Ravens-Niners matchup on Super Bowl Sunday I predict the Ravens by 7.
I make this prediction with no scientific backup at all. Furthermore I am a Niners fan having lived in San Francisco when they won the championship against the Bengals. It was incredibly exciting and I can still hear The City screaming when I opened the sliders on my friend's San Bruno deck after Dwight Clark made "The Catch" during the playoffs. It was a wonderful time in the City by The Bay.
So I pick the Ravens. I pick them for three reasons:
1) They are due, especially after the Colts went to Indianapolis and left Baltimore, poor "Ballmer" without Johnny Unitas' team.
2) Michael Oher's story was so brilliantly told in "Blindside" that I can't imagine rooting for any other team. And I don't want to get a look from Leigh Anne Tuohy at anytime during my lifetime, should I have the honor of meeting her and she had read my predictions and they weren't for the Ravens to win. Not ever...
3) My wife is cheering for the Ravens.
Personally, I am not a huge sports fan. To be completely honest I really don't care that much.
I grew up in New York and I suppose I am a Yankee fan, mostly because my folks were to the extent that they cared. But I lived in Massachusetts for 25 years and therefore have an affection for the Red Sox.
But then again, I like the Brewers logo and the Mets have a new stadium (even though it will always, and forever be Shea...) and I saw the Marlins once when I was in Miami on a project.
But, truth be told, I wish the Cubs would win one. Once. In my lifetime. I've only been to Chicago a few times and my mother was born there but the Cubbies deserve one. If the Red Sox can have a World Series title then the Cubs should have one too. It only seems fair...no?
So...the Ravens by a touchdown.
My pick. Take it to the bank. Bet on it.
If anybody knows sports it's me. And my wife.
We know sports.
Pass the Gatorade please. And since there are no wings may I please have more hummus?
Mmmmmmm. Nothing like the Super Bowl and Hummus.
Or Tabouli. Or Carob brownies. Or Tofu dogs.
Let's party!!
That's Entertainment!
Ah, Nostalgia...
What a wonderful thing. Ain't nothin' like a birthday to getcha a-thinkin' 'bout the past.
It's hard, these days, not to think that things were better in "The Good Old Days." At least, life seemed simpler, less complicated. There weren't as many choices and what choices there were seemed easy enough to make.
There were, for example, only a few TV stations from which to choose. That's pretty easy. Ed Sullivan or Lawrence Welk. John Lennon or The Lennon Sisters. Easy as pie. (My father preferred Welk so I am painfully hip to The Sisters but I did get to see The Beatles on Ed. Thanks Dad...)
Now there are, literally, hundreds of stations to watch with numbers like 237.
"Honey...what's on 237?"
"I don't know but Oprah's on 236, 14 and 196."
"Which one do you want?"
"I don't care...you choose."
Yeah, right.
In a previous post I confessed to being hopelessly addicted to Law and Order. It was one thing, years ago, when the show was just on one channel, NBC. On such and such a day at x-hour, period.
Popcorn, slippers, cozy chair...Law and Order for a glorious hour.
Now I have to choose among three stations and three different versions of the show. I'm definitely not complaining but it's hard for a man to decide whether to watch Lennie and Van Buren or Goren and Eames or Elliot and Olivia.
Three great casts, three great stories, three great outcomes. I can, at least, take solace from the fact that, in the case of Law and Order, each version has the same music. Slightly different arrangements but the same song, nonetheless. "Boom. Boom", if you know what I mean...
Anyway, it feels as though our lives are interminably complicated these days, made so by so damned many choices and versions of virtually the same thing.
Cars, shoes, food. How many fast food stores to we really need when they are, for the most part, all the same? What is the difference, really, between a Big Mac and a Whopper? Not much as far as I'm concerned. I prefer the Whopper, personally, but they really are the same...a couple of bucks worth of garbage.
So, yeah, birthdays are great for looking back at the past, how it was "when I was young."
I don't want to go back, mind you, but I wouldn't mind fewer complications in my life.
I know, I know...it doesn't have to be that way. I can just go with what I really want and ignore the rest. But that's hard to do. Really hard.
Especially when you want it all! Cake and eat it too, ya know...?
Which reminds me. My birthday cake was delicious. Chocolate Ice Box Cake made by the loving hands of my caring, beautiful wife.
Layers of chocolate mousse and lady fingers covered with handmade whipped cream and beautifully decorated by my adorable daughter.
No complications there. Love and chocolate.
Slam dunk!!
What a wonderful thing. Ain't nothin' like a birthday to getcha a-thinkin' 'bout the past.
It's hard, these days, not to think that things were better in "The Good Old Days." At least, life seemed simpler, less complicated. There weren't as many choices and what choices there were seemed easy enough to make.
There were, for example, only a few TV stations from which to choose. That's pretty easy. Ed Sullivan or Lawrence Welk. John Lennon or The Lennon Sisters. Easy as pie. (My father preferred Welk so I am painfully hip to The Sisters but I did get to see The Beatles on Ed. Thanks Dad...)
Now there are, literally, hundreds of stations to watch with numbers like 237.
"Honey...what's on 237?"
"I don't know but Oprah's on 236, 14 and 196."
"Which one do you want?"
"I don't care...you choose."
Yeah, right.
In a previous post I confessed to being hopelessly addicted to Law and Order. It was one thing, years ago, when the show was just on one channel, NBC. On such and such a day at x-hour, period.
Popcorn, slippers, cozy chair...Law and Order for a glorious hour.
Now I have to choose among three stations and three different versions of the show. I'm definitely not complaining but it's hard for a man to decide whether to watch Lennie and Van Buren or Goren and Eames or Elliot and Olivia.
Three great casts, three great stories, three great outcomes. I can, at least, take solace from the fact that, in the case of Law and Order, each version has the same music. Slightly different arrangements but the same song, nonetheless. "Boom. Boom", if you know what I mean...
Anyway, it feels as though our lives are interminably complicated these days, made so by so damned many choices and versions of virtually the same thing.
Cars, shoes, food. How many fast food stores to we really need when they are, for the most part, all the same? What is the difference, really, between a Big Mac and a Whopper? Not much as far as I'm concerned. I prefer the Whopper, personally, but they really are the same...a couple of bucks worth of garbage.
So, yeah, birthdays are great for looking back at the past, how it was "when I was young."
I don't want to go back, mind you, but I wouldn't mind fewer complications in my life.
I know, I know...it doesn't have to be that way. I can just go with what I really want and ignore the rest. But that's hard to do. Really hard.
Especially when you want it all! Cake and eat it too, ya know...?
Which reminds me. My birthday cake was delicious. Chocolate Ice Box Cake made by the loving hands of my caring, beautiful wife.
Layers of chocolate mousse and lady fingers covered with handmade whipped cream and beautifully decorated by my adorable daughter.
No complications there. Love and chocolate.
Slam dunk!!
Sunday, January 27, 2013
New and Improved
I think I speak for most people when I say that advertising is just so much bull.
"New and improved", "As seen on TV", "50% More!"
Almost nothing that is said in modern advertising is really believable. Products may be literally "new", as in they are in new boxes or have some sort of new packaging but, by and large, they are the same old thing all over again.
And we are treated to smiling faces, snappy jingles and crisp graphics. And we are wooed by scenes of lives lived with ease and, in some cases, grandeur.
One ad that is especially irksome is the one now airing for Jaguar, the luxury car company.
We hear wind whistling and we see white out conditions. A man, clad in expedition gear, emerges from the blizzard and trudges toward the camera. Cut to his destination, a mound of snow. He finds himself in the driver's seat of a car and the camera cuts to a closeup of a button reading "start." His gloved finger pushes the button and we cut to a long shot of the mound as the snow explodes from it revealing a car, a new Jaguar.
We then see the car driving toward the camera and then cut to a wide shot of the car driving confidently down a snowy road as music swells and the voiceover tells us that this car will be ready for us no matter when or where.
Yay! We are saved! We have been walking aimlessly over the tundra seemingly lost to the ages in a desert of frozen nothingness only to be rescued by the durability and worthiness of this sheet metal- shrouded god of automotive genius.
PLEASE! You have to be kidding me! Please, tell me that you are joking when you try to sell me on the idea that a multi-thousand dollar luxury vehicle is the one that The National Geographic would give to its' intrepids as they launch off into the wilderness in search of new discovery and world fame.
Ernest Shackleton survived a year on Antarctic ice floes by his own guile and determination not because he had a Rolls Royce to drive around in.
No self respecting explorer would be caught dead (actually they would be caught dead...) trudging through the jungle in a glossy sheet metal 4x4 with a cat as a hood ornament and Michelen radials.
At the very least they would have a Land Rover with solid tires and a winch. Not a "Range Rover" with a baby seat and childproof window locks. Not a "Beamer" with heated seats. Not a "Caddy" that gets 15 highway and 12 city.
The ad has an appeal but damned if I know what it is. If I wanted to project an image of manliness and fearlessness I'd drive a four wheel drive pickup with a spare gas can and a trailer hitch. I'd wear jeans and a Leatherman and I'd have my baseball cap on frontwards with a logo from some obscure fishing supply store in the Tierra del Fuego.
I wouldn't drive a Jaguar into a snow bank and then head off to plant the flag on some distant iceberg expecting to come back days later, start the thing and cruise off to the nearest -ced latte bar.
Advertising attempts to sell us stuff we can't afford and don't need based on the premise that we will be cooler for owning it.
Just cold and poor. In a Jaguar (Jag-you-are...) in a snow bank. With no cell service.
And definitely no latte. The iced, yes. Not the latte...
"New and improved", "As seen on TV", "50% More!"
Almost nothing that is said in modern advertising is really believable. Products may be literally "new", as in they are in new boxes or have some sort of new packaging but, by and large, they are the same old thing all over again.
And we are treated to smiling faces, snappy jingles and crisp graphics. And we are wooed by scenes of lives lived with ease and, in some cases, grandeur.
One ad that is especially irksome is the one now airing for Jaguar, the luxury car company.
We hear wind whistling and we see white out conditions. A man, clad in expedition gear, emerges from the blizzard and trudges toward the camera. Cut to his destination, a mound of snow. He finds himself in the driver's seat of a car and the camera cuts to a closeup of a button reading "start." His gloved finger pushes the button and we cut to a long shot of the mound as the snow explodes from it revealing a car, a new Jaguar.
We then see the car driving toward the camera and then cut to a wide shot of the car driving confidently down a snowy road as music swells and the voiceover tells us that this car will be ready for us no matter when or where.
Yay! We are saved! We have been walking aimlessly over the tundra seemingly lost to the ages in a desert of frozen nothingness only to be rescued by the durability and worthiness of this sheet metal- shrouded god of automotive genius.
PLEASE! You have to be kidding me! Please, tell me that you are joking when you try to sell me on the idea that a multi-thousand dollar luxury vehicle is the one that The National Geographic would give to its' intrepids as they launch off into the wilderness in search of new discovery and world fame.
Ernest Shackleton survived a year on Antarctic ice floes by his own guile and determination not because he had a Rolls Royce to drive around in.
No self respecting explorer would be caught dead (actually they would be caught dead...) trudging through the jungle in a glossy sheet metal 4x4 with a cat as a hood ornament and Michelen radials.
At the very least they would have a Land Rover with solid tires and a winch. Not a "Range Rover" with a baby seat and childproof window locks. Not a "Beamer" with heated seats. Not a "Caddy" that gets 15 highway and 12 city.
The ad has an appeal but damned if I know what it is. If I wanted to project an image of manliness and fearlessness I'd drive a four wheel drive pickup with a spare gas can and a trailer hitch. I'd wear jeans and a Leatherman and I'd have my baseball cap on frontwards with a logo from some obscure fishing supply store in the Tierra del Fuego.
I wouldn't drive a Jaguar into a snow bank and then head off to plant the flag on some distant iceberg expecting to come back days later, start the thing and cruise off to the nearest -ced latte bar.
Advertising attempts to sell us stuff we can't afford and don't need based on the premise that we will be cooler for owning it.
Just cold and poor. In a Jaguar (Jag-you-are...) in a snow bank. With no cell service.
And definitely no latte. The iced, yes. Not the latte...
Friday, January 25, 2013
Law and Disorder
Help me...PLEASE!
I'm addicted. I can't control myself. I'm a junkie. And I'm smitten. I have a crush on Law and Order, the Dick Wolf leviathan.
All of the spinoffs, all of the episodes and all of the actors. From Elliot to Huang to Goren, Van Buren, Lennie (may he rest in peace) and McCoy. I love em' all!
I confess to especially loving SVU or SUV as we call it in my family. It's available on three of the cable channels and it's almost always the choice when we sit down to watch television.
What I love most is the dialogue. The characters are so well defined and have such wonderful, sometimes very funny, lines. Finn is street smart, Munch is the intellectual, Cragen is the Dad and Olivia the gorgeous sister with whom you had better not fool around...on any level.
And Elliot is the tough former Marine with a big heart and a real, manly-man, tattoo. (I think I ran into Christopher Meloni on the street in Manhattan recently but wasn't sure so I didn't bother him, which I now wish I had to tell him how great an actor I think he is and how much he is missed on the show but that I hope he's doing well and what he loves and that we'll see him in something else again soon...)
And the story lines are so twisted! They are derived from actual crimes but are somehow improved upon. You think you know what's up and then Wham! They throw you a curve ball.
It wasn't the personal trainer, it was the janitor. And he was having an affair with the victim's brother who was a transsexual married to the personal trainer's former father-in-law.
Stuff like that. And then the ADA takes over and has a confrontation with either Elliot or Olivia or both and then, at the last minute, changes her mind, but it's too late and the guy is acquitted and the music swells and the scene fades to black and the words "Executive Producer Dick Wolf" appear and it's over.
Well only for a second because on the USA Network they often run what they call a "marathon" which consists of back to back, endless (thank you GOD!) episodes from every franchise, all seasons, different casts and a wide range of stories.
Albeit, the program is a bit formulaic and predictable but it is a lot like a hot fudge sundae. There are many elements and you know exactly what you're going to get and what to expect but it is always satisfying and, after a very short while, you always want another one.
Law and Order. Olivia and Elliot. Ham and Cheese.
Somethings are meant to be together.
Trivia Question:
What actor from Sex in The City was in the original cast of Law and Order?
Answer:
Chris Noth
You're welcome...
I'm addicted. I can't control myself. I'm a junkie. And I'm smitten. I have a crush on Law and Order, the Dick Wolf leviathan.
All of the spinoffs, all of the episodes and all of the actors. From Elliot to Huang to Goren, Van Buren, Lennie (may he rest in peace) and McCoy. I love em' all!
I confess to especially loving SVU or SUV as we call it in my family. It's available on three of the cable channels and it's almost always the choice when we sit down to watch television.
What I love most is the dialogue. The characters are so well defined and have such wonderful, sometimes very funny, lines. Finn is street smart, Munch is the intellectual, Cragen is the Dad and Olivia the gorgeous sister with whom you had better not fool around...on any level.
And Elliot is the tough former Marine with a big heart and a real, manly-man, tattoo. (I think I ran into Christopher Meloni on the street in Manhattan recently but wasn't sure so I didn't bother him, which I now wish I had to tell him how great an actor I think he is and how much he is missed on the show but that I hope he's doing well and what he loves and that we'll see him in something else again soon...)
And the story lines are so twisted! They are derived from actual crimes but are somehow improved upon. You think you know what's up and then Wham! They throw you a curve ball.
It wasn't the personal trainer, it was the janitor. And he was having an affair with the victim's brother who was a transsexual married to the personal trainer's former father-in-law.
Stuff like that. And then the ADA takes over and has a confrontation with either Elliot or Olivia or both and then, at the last minute, changes her mind, but it's too late and the guy is acquitted and the music swells and the scene fades to black and the words "Executive Producer Dick Wolf" appear and it's over.
Well only for a second because on the USA Network they often run what they call a "marathon" which consists of back to back, endless (thank you GOD!) episodes from every franchise, all seasons, different casts and a wide range of stories.
Albeit, the program is a bit formulaic and predictable but it is a lot like a hot fudge sundae. There are many elements and you know exactly what you're going to get and what to expect but it is always satisfying and, after a very short while, you always want another one.
Law and Order. Olivia and Elliot. Ham and Cheese.
Somethings are meant to be together.
Trivia Question:
What actor from Sex in The City was in the original cast of Law and Order?
Answer:
Chris Noth
You're welcome...
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Black and White
Can we be serious for just one goll-durned minute...?
How many...now be honest here...how many minorities do you count among your friends? How many have been to your house for dinner? How many have you had a drink with recently?
I ask because I was struck ("I was struck" is a phrase used by pundits to seem erudite...OOOOO!....erudite, indeed!...to seem important. Baloney... if, "at the end of the day", you were to ask me...) the other day when I was watching a commercial on television, by the casting choices.
There were several white women, one Asian, one Black and one Hispanic.
A lovely, interracial bevy to be sure. But, seemingly, a departure from what I expect is the norm in our society.
I realize that I write from a White, European, American perspective. That is the society I have come from and in which I grew up and now live.
I know that other societies are different and, therefore, the perspective would be different.
Someone who came from, and grew up in and now lives in, a Black, Asian or Hispanic environment would probably say the same thing. They probably don't often socialize with people from other groups either.
I think it's true, however much we may wish it were otherwise, that "birds of a feather do flock together."
I was recently in a cafeteria at a major corporation and the above notion was in full display. The Asians were all sitting together, as were the Blacks and the Whites. There was very little commingling, if any.
Furthermore I think that racism is prevalent in our society, as a whole. People tend to throw off on the "other", regardless of what the characteristics of that "other" is.
Yes, we have a Black President. Yes we've had a Black Secretary of State and Black generals. Yes we have an Hispanic Justice on the Supreme Court and Black Mayors.
But do we have an truly integrated society? I think not. The only people, save a precious few, who really care about Martin Luther King Day are Black people. Obama's color was very much a part of his victories in many ways.
Columbus Day is for the Italians (but not the Native Americans...forgive me Sweetheart.) St. Patrick's Day is for the Irish and the drunks. Christmas is for the Christians and the shopkeepers and Passover is for the Jews and those who love a full bodied, yet somewhat precocious Manischewitz. Etc., etc,, etc...
So the TV spot I watched didn't seem to reflect any reality that I am currently aware of. Again, I ask you. How many lily White women in the 'burbs sit around their living rooms discussing the latest advances in douche technology with their Black, Asian and Hispanic friends?
Not many I'm sure any more than their lily White husbands stroll the golf courses of our great land in thrall with the latest musings about erectile dysfunction, all the while patting the backs of Jamal, Ming and Jose.
So the PC police have succeeded in creating no real progress in the area of race relations. What they have done, however, is create more opportunities for minority actors.
Yo! Action, amigo. ACTION!!
How many...now be honest here...how many minorities do you count among your friends? How many have been to your house for dinner? How many have you had a drink with recently?
I ask because I was struck ("I was struck" is a phrase used by pundits to seem erudite...OOOOO!....erudite, indeed!...to seem important. Baloney... if, "at the end of the day", you were to ask me...) the other day when I was watching a commercial on television, by the casting choices.
There were several white women, one Asian, one Black and one Hispanic.
A lovely, interracial bevy to be sure. But, seemingly, a departure from what I expect is the norm in our society.
I realize that I write from a White, European, American perspective. That is the society I have come from and in which I grew up and now live.
I know that other societies are different and, therefore, the perspective would be different.
Someone who came from, and grew up in and now lives in, a Black, Asian or Hispanic environment would probably say the same thing. They probably don't often socialize with people from other groups either.
I think it's true, however much we may wish it were otherwise, that "birds of a feather do flock together."
I was recently in a cafeteria at a major corporation and the above notion was in full display. The Asians were all sitting together, as were the Blacks and the Whites. There was very little commingling, if any.
Furthermore I think that racism is prevalent in our society, as a whole. People tend to throw off on the "other", regardless of what the characteristics of that "other" is.
Yes, we have a Black President. Yes we've had a Black Secretary of State and Black generals. Yes we have an Hispanic Justice on the Supreme Court and Black Mayors.
But do we have an truly integrated society? I think not. The only people, save a precious few, who really care about Martin Luther King Day are Black people. Obama's color was very much a part of his victories in many ways.
Columbus Day is for the Italians (but not the Native Americans...forgive me Sweetheart.) St. Patrick's Day is for the Irish and the drunks. Christmas is for the Christians and the shopkeepers and Passover is for the Jews and those who love a full bodied, yet somewhat precocious Manischewitz. Etc., etc,, etc...
So the TV spot I watched didn't seem to reflect any reality that I am currently aware of. Again, I ask you. How many lily White women in the 'burbs sit around their living rooms discussing the latest advances in douche technology with their Black, Asian and Hispanic friends?
Not many I'm sure any more than their lily White husbands stroll the golf courses of our great land in thrall with the latest musings about erectile dysfunction, all the while patting the backs of Jamal, Ming and Jose.
So the PC police have succeeded in creating no real progress in the area of race relations. What they have done, however, is create more opportunities for minority actors.
Yo! Action, amigo. ACTION!!
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