Interesting Links

- Recently Eddie Fitzgerald was showcased in Blogger's Blogs of Note! After Final Girl, that makes two of my favorite blogs, so I take back what I once cheekily said re: Blogs of Note's irrelevancy. Bygones.

Eddie always has something interesting to say, like:

"Harris is always believable and appealing in the parts he plays in the demo, but is that all there is? Didn't Margaret Hamilton transcend "believable and appealing" when she played the Wicked Witch of the West in "The Wizard of Oz?" Wasn't Peter Lorre more than simply scary and convincing in "Stranger on the Third Floor?" How about Garbo in "Grand Hotel?" It seems to me that it's an actor's job to bring to the project a pre-existing character of great power and iconic significance."

- I've always liked Becky's about me page:

"Who am I?
I'm a Transvestite, actually. I gain pleasure from wearing the clothes of the opposite sex. Tch, who would have thought it, eh?

Why do I do it? Who knows. I once heard it summed up thusly: "If you have a reason for doing it, you're not really a transvestite."

I guess that definition fits me pretty well. I don't do it because I'm a woman who's been born in a man's body, although I respect those souls who find themselves in that position.

I don't do it because I have to, I wouldn't drop down dead if I never dressed again. Although, life does get pretty depressing during extended periods in bloke mode!

I do it to capture, however briefly, that elusive quality of "feeling girly". Sometimes I can dress to the nines, have a great evening out, followed by an even better evening in, and not really feel it at all. Other times I'll get an amazing girly fix by putting on a coat of clear nail varnish before work.

Why do I want to feel girly? Because I'm a transvestite. Why am I a transvestite? Because I like feeling girly.

Circular logic, I know, but who said it was anything to do with logic?"

- Alexandre is Brazilian, so he writes in Portuguese, but here's my shabby translation of part of his latest blog post, that I think is a lot of fun.

"Apparently I'm the last living person who doesn't keep saying he has issues with authority. Or at least I've never seen anyone explicitly say he's proud not to have issues with authority, anyone claim to enjoy obeying orders as much as giving them out. (In a non-sexual context, I mean -- or is the only acceptable kind of obedience now the kinky sort?) Every man likes to fantasize about being one of The Dirty Dozen. I guess I do too, but stop being proud of it, it's getting tiresome, and I have the feeling it will keep getting more tiresome unless lots of people start saying "I don't mind obeying at all, I really go for it", with their chins up and their penises flaccid. The next step is to say very proudly "Spineless bloke right here", pointing at your chest (if anyone says, "Unless provoked, right?", smiling complicitly because that's what people expect of those who say such things with pride, you should retort "No, go right ahead and provoke me, I won't do a thing", and don't blink), and also "You'll like me when I'm angry", "I pray I can into fights and then I pray I can get out of them", and finally, "I'm yellow, alright". You want to be proud of something, might as well take pride in something nobody else brags about."

- Stuff like this is why I heart Ruth and want all her babies (that and her LJ icons, that include Kate Bush as a child, and stills from Flashdance):

"JAVIER BARDEM, GET YOUR SWEET ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW AND START BEING MY BOYFRIEND.

I had a dream last night. And in hat dream it was revealed to me that I must pursue Javier Bardem with my whole heart--nay--MY WHOLE SOUL. Because he would be the perfect boyfriend, and he could act in all my plays, and give me beautiful Spanish children.

(...) And then we'll meet and I'll be like "Oh, hi," and he'll be like, "Those words you wrote, Sarah. After I first read your play, I could not sleep for ten days and ten nights. They obsess me. They consume me. My heart beats to a new rhythm because of those words. I am changed forever because of them. And I said to myself, 'Javier, you must meet the extraordinary woman who wrote those beautiful, terrible, devastating words. You must ask her out for a coffee.'"

And I'll say, "coffee would be great,"

and then we'll get married.
THE END."

- I loved Campaspe's excerpt from Joan Collin's autobiography, where Joan tells an incident that happened during the filming of The Opposite Sex, a remake of The Women where she co-starred with June Allyson (an actress who I seem to be alone in liking). It really is something worth reading.

"June was a tiny lady, about five foot two in heels. She was famous for her cute blond bob and her Peter Pan collars. She was petite, delicate and ladylike, so I was not concerned that she had to slap my face after the following dialogue.

June: By the way, if you're dressing for Steven, I wouldn't wear that. He doesn't like anything quite so obvious.

Crystal: When Steven doesn't like what I wear I take it off!

...And June hauled off and belted me. This little lady with her tiny hands had a punch like Muhammad Ali! I felt as if a steamroller had hit me. Something fell from my face and hit the floor with a loud clatter--my teeth? Oh, God, no. Please don't let her have knocked out my teeth? My head was ringing, as the slap had connected with my ears, and I couldn't hear a thing. Stars danced before my eyes and I staggered to a chair and collapsed.

"Cut--cut, for Christ's sake, cut!" screamed director David Miller. "What the hell's going on here?"

June burst into tears and collapsed into another chair. Makeup men and dressers rushed to the set with smelling salts and succor.

I put my hands tentatively to my mouth. Thank God, a full set of teeth still, but what flew off me? The wardrobe lady solved the mystery, retrieving the long rhinestone earrings which the force of June's slap had sent spinning. But any more shooting was out of the question. On each of my cheeks was forming the perfect imprint of a tiny hand! Branded, if not for life, for the two or three days it took for the welts to go down. June was desperately sorry, and it took longer to calm her down than it did me. Luckily, when they saw the scene on rushes it was unnecessary to reshoot the slap--it had complete authenticity!"

One can tell what a natural conversationalist Joan must be. I should get this book!