Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Some TV you watch; some just sneaks through cell walls.

I rather think--all of a sudden--that my life is really, very incomplete without owning any Jackson 5 albums. How can it be otherwise? "Goin Back to Indiana"? "Got to Be There"??

This was sparked in part by one of my idiotic but sincere rock-critic-manquee moments hearin "Never Can Say Goodbye" coming out of a car stereo and being immediately overwhelmed...what a perfect song that is. And the J5 version makes perfect use of Michael Jackson's voice at that age--the reaching sound it had, the high range, all augments the searching, wanting melancholy of the melody, the harmonies. I like how that song--more than many--gets itself in and out of choruses/verses. It builds and builds. And guess who wrote it? Clifton Davis, star of Amen and That's My Mama! Blimey! I did not know this, but I am enjoying knowing it now. I love the theme song to Amen too, by the way--I used to stay up late to just to watch/listen to it.

The Cup That Is World has reactivated my crush on Fabien Barthez. Kinda.

Among all the shows I spend so much time not watching there is the Hulk Hugan reality awfulness and I would like to go on record protesting that during what little I've seen of it he manages each time to chastise his daughter for her eating. It's like...birth of an eating disorder, live on TV, and completely nauseating to watch. Especially coming from a professional bully. Whenever I see that kinda shit happening, I think of that stupid/smart Adam Carolla quote: "A child is like a spring, and restricting it is like putting your foot on the spring. Sure, no matter how hard you step on it, as long as you keep your foot there, the spring will stay put. But once you let go just a bit, it'll go flying right up your ass."

Saw some rare photos of MLKJr. on TV the other day (that predictably, made me bawl, and also made me embarrassed to live in Chicago, given the era they were from) that bore out what I had seen in the last documentary I saw about him, which was that that man was TIRED. He just looked exhausted, and in one of the Chicago speeches talked about not wanting to be martyr and being so tired. In the documentary they had mentioned he had the heart of someone twice his age and would have had an attack soon after his assasinaton. Anyhow, it really struck me. Is that a very very unnecessary sentence while blogging?

There was a woman on one of those surgery makeover shows (which I also can barely watch - this is a weird bunch of rambling) who was having boobaugmentation and a tummy tuck to please her husband, who is in Iraq ("he deserves a wife with a hot body"). Anyhow, I found myself looking at her yucky tummy scar and thinking--what does he think of that? Does it look like somebody ripped by shrapnel? Or does it look good? I wish I could handle gore--the psychology of these shows is really interesting.

Barking Mad (now this I do occasionally watch) is a great show on Animal Planet, in large part because it's English. So it's full of embarrassed pet-owners whose pets do all sorts of hilarious and, yes, embarrassing things. I was laughing the other day watching this red-faced owner trying to drag her cocker spaniel down the street as it keened and huffed at rollerbladers. It's kind of a combination of Stupid Pet Tricks and something else.

I am fascinated by the phenomenon of people who get *worse* at things. I have a 1/2-written article in me head about it, and the topic really is interesting. Um. To me. Entropy in action.

No comments: