June 27, 2003
Tuning in ...
Two new shows that are quickly turning into favorites. I know it's not rational and even sophomoric, but these shows throw me into crapulous hysterics.
The Tom Green Show: The funniest, one-testicled man on television. Hands down. His first few shows have been a scream, especially the hitchhiking feature.
I'm with Busey: Living proof that Organ Doners (aka motorcyclists) should always wear helmets. The show's best when Busey is tormenting the hapless Adam. Sometimes it seems forced, but when it flows, it's stream of unconsciousness humor.
Posted by Bob Benz at 8:55 PM | Comments (2)
Is English this writer's second language?
Now that you've sampled a well-crafted line from an Anthony Lane review, here's an excerpt from a restaurant review in a Santa Fe-based magazine called Local Flavor:
"Twelve perfect green beans on a plate, dressed with lemon and pepper, are like little children just learning how to clap their hands. You just want to pick them up and eat them, one at a time."
What, exactly, is in those green beans to inspire such a hallucinogenic simile?
Posted by Bob Benz at 3:27 PM | Comments (1)
June 25, 2003
Zombies infiltrate the New Yorker ...
It pleased me to no end to find, lurking in the erudite prose and dry cartoons of the New Yorker, a review of the newest Zombie film that's been released, "28 Days Later." To wit:
"There are two drawbacks here. One is a shortage of superior zombies, although where one goes to rent extra zombies I have no idea. Whatever the case, Boyle cannot begin to match the remorseless ranks of walleyed staggerers who parade through George Romero’s 'Night of the Living Dead.' Second, we have a serious shortage of fright. "
Walleyed staggerers. A reviewer who appreciates the genius of George Romero. What more can you ask for ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 7:07 PM | Comments (4)
June 23, 2003
Zen moments in the travel section ...
I generally don't read the stories in the New York Times Travel section. I look at the pictures. Scan the ads. But the articles tend toward the self-indulgent. Yesterday was an exception. There were two great pieces in there -- one about a Zen retreat in California, the other about a New Age resort in the Bahamas. (Both require free registration to read online.)
The retreat, Tassajara, sounds like a great place to disengage, and I've added it to my "to do" list. They don't require meditation (though you can if you want). It's mostly a place out in the woods where you can decelerate, get in touch with nature and just be.
The second piece, "A Skeptic in Yogiland," was hilarious. The writer makes a journey from skeptic to believer and back again. It reminded me vaguely of David Chadwick's awesome "Thank You and Ok!: An American Zen Failure in Japan."
An excerpt from the skeptic article:
"At breakfast, Francine, who was herself going through a bit of a crisis of faith and had stopped attending class, accused me of looking radiant, as if I were glowing with an inner light.
"This inaugurated my brief messianic phase. I realized I knew the answers to everyone's problems, including my own, and I did not hesitate to share them. "Just let go and be here now," I said. "All suffering is caused by trying to repeat past pleasures."
"When Fran tried to shut me up, I held up my left palm and shone it at her. "Tell it to the light," I said."
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:29 AM | Comments (1)
June 22, 2003
the absinthe drinker ...
A friend of a friend went to London and brought back a bottle of absinthe, the liquor that includes wormwood and is purported to make users crazy. It's been banned in many countries because of this. After believing what she read on a few sensationalist sites on the Internet, this friend handed the bottle over to me, knowing I've been curious about it and perhaps looking for a guinea pig.
So I did a little reading of my own. The insanity stories are overblown. As one site points out: "When someone consumes 20 or more glasses a day of a 120-150 proof alcoholic beverage (which were possibly contaminated with toxic metals as well), it can tend to have a deleterious effect on them." That's what those wacky French Impressionists were up to when absinthe was their liquor of choice.
So I read further. The absinthe that was retrieved from London is distilled by Sebor in the Czech Republic. They have a great site, complete with a place where you can buy asbsinthe and info on various ways of drinking it. There's also a very cool photo of an obviously absinthed Johnny Depp partaking of the "green fairy." Just click the thumbnail for a closer look.
After weighing my options, opening the bottle and being impressed with the smell (anise flavored, vaguely reminiscent of Ouzo), I decided over ice was the best bet. Apparently, some of the rot-gut varieties were very bitter, so those wacky impressionists tended to mix sugar in. No need for that with Sebor.
So I had three drinks on the rocks. It's strong stuff, about 110 proof. Overall, I really liked it. The feeling is akin to the feeling you get when you drink a really good tequila. Things seem a little sharper, a little more in focus. But there was no insanity (aside from what pre-existed). No hallucinations. No burning desire to become an impressionist and hang out in Paris. I'll definitely finish the bottle. Not sure if I'll ante up the kind of prices they're asking for to have it mailed to the States, though.
Posted by Bob Benz at 4:38 PM | Comments (5)
June 20, 2003
Leaving Las Vegas ...
Well, the Vegas trip was pretty much of a bust. It was OK from the business side. Saw a few interesting products. Had a few interesting conversations. But I didn't gamble, so I didn't win anything (or lose anything, for that matter.) The most exciting thing that happened was an elevator ride -- make that two elevator rides -- with Mrs. Universe contestants. Mrs. Zimbabwe on Monday. Mrs. Peru on Tuesday. How did I know? There were wearing their sashes. Kinda hard to miss ...
And then there was that dinner conversation with a bunch of newspaper operations guys. Tales of massive ink spills. Pressroom fires. Grippers. Sorters. And Stackers. Yup ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 5:19 PM | Comments (3)
June 18, 2003
An odd wrinkle ...
Peeve of the day: Why do hotel rooms never have an electrical outlet that is "ironing board friendly"? If they're going to provide and iron and a board, the least they can do is have an outlet that you can use to eradicate wrinkles.
And that's how pointless my life is today ... I'm in Las Vegas whining about ironing boards.
Posted by Bob Benz at 11:53 AM | Comments (3)
June 15, 2003
Jesus held hostage ...
Great Boondocks cartoon that ran this past week ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:38 AM | Comments (0)
June 13, 2003
Glenbot works some hackermojo ...
It had to happen eventually. Glenbot has started blogging. It's a stream of obsessions as much as it's a blog, and it's pretty interesting. Glenbot is the "alpha geek" in our technical group, and his wisdom and insights always help us make better decisions. In his blog, he's detailing his latest obsessions (pipe smoking, web services as a potentially disruptive technology, etc.) If you're of a technical ilk or just like to watch the geek mind at work, check it out.
Posted by Bob Benz at 7:57 AM | Comments (0)
June 12, 2003
Captain Kirk's a blogger ...
Just when I think I've seen it all, a friend pings me a link to William Shatner's blog. Wow. To make it even cooler, his daughter also blogs on the site, asking thought-provoking questions such as: "What would Captain Kirk's dream vacation be? "
Hmm. I don't know. Would it involve an interstellar brothel, skimpily clad alien chics (preferably green) and some hard drinking with Spock? Maybe a few tribbles on the side?
What I really want to see is a blog written by a raving, drunken Scotty, revealing all that really went on in the warp core.
Posted by Bob Benz at 11:36 AM | Comments (1)
June 7, 2003
Trying to change my crapulous ways ...
I staggered into a very cool word the other day that I've quickly adopted in the Benzian Lexicon: crapulous. What is that, you ask?
crapulous
adjective
Stupefied, excited, or muddled with alcoholic liquor : besotted, crapulent, drunk, drunken, inebriate, inebriated, intoxicated, sodden, tipsy. Informal: cockeyed, stewed. Slang: blind, bombed, boozed, boozy, crocked, high, lit (up), loaded, looped, pickled, pixilated, plastered, potted, sloshed, smashed, soused, stinking, stinko, stoned, tight, zonked. Idioms: drunk as a skunk, half-seas over, high as a kite, in one's cups, in.
Yup. I'll find plenty of use for crapulous.
I've also grown rather fond of the Brit word wanker. Guess I'm watching too much BBC America ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 10:18 AM | Comments (2)
June 6, 2003
Only in Tennessee ...
So I'm paging through the local alternative weekly and I stumble across an ad for the "June Jubilee in historic Dandridge." Along with the obligatory bluegrass offerings, they are boasting "Clogging and Karate." I'm trying as hard as I can to wrap my Yankee mind around that concept: clogging and karate. I've always thought clogging was kinda frightening. And I know a woman who claims to have once "clogged for moonshine" in a neighbor's garage when she was a teen. And karate has that whole Bruce Lee thing going on. But clogging and karate? That sounds like a possible reality TV show.
If you're looking for me this weekend, look no farther than the Dandridge June Jubilee.
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:17 PM | Comments (1)
June 4, 2003
Sex in literature ...
I'm a recent convert to the literary magazine Tin House, and their latest offering is the "Sex issue." Several great stories, including a feature asking various writers about the first "sexual" literary encounter they had. Some give real eggheady answers (Henry Miller's "Tropic of Capricorn," Joyce's "Ulysses," etc.) Some are more honest, citing encounters that are closer to pop culture than literature. Got me thinking to mine. I think it was "Jaws." Clay Fulton, a kid up the street, was allowed to read the book during that summer that Jaws made everyone afraid to go in the water. There were a few steamy scenes in there that Clay told us about with great relish. I wanted to read it myself, but Mom hid it in her drawer, knowing that it was too adult for me at the time. I found it anyway, and I remember marveling at a scene where the police chief wants to have sex with his wife. She tells him she's too tired and she's going to sleep, but he can go ahead anyway if he wants. His response was something to the effect of: I'm not into fucking corpses.
Which sent my prepubescent mind reeling. Why would anyone turn down a chance for sex. Even if it was with someone who was asleep.
So what was your first literary sexual awakening? And don't claim it was Joyce ...
Posted by Bob Benz at 9:40 PM | Comments (2)
Annie Proulx convert
After years of Bob's exhortations that I read Annie Proulx, I finally got around to one of her books. I'm about halfway through "That Old Ace in the Hole" and I am a convert. Her prose has a poet's precision, and she can tell you everything you need to know about a character with one well chosen sentence. I love how unadorned her writing is, too. It feels as natural as breath.
Next up:Wyoming Tales.
And how the hell do you say this woman's name? Prool? Prowl? Help!
Posted by Bob Benz at 5:42 PM | Comments (1)