Don't Look Up Is Weak Broth

 Oh, all my peppy young readers! All you who are up-to-date on everything! I usually envy the fuck outta you, but not today.

Over the weekend, Mr. J and I sat down to watch this new movie called "Don't Look Up." We watched and watched and watched. And then the cable signal went out (as it often does).

Usually when the cable signal goes out, we collectively groan and fuss like two old doddering wrecks.

In this case we were 90 minutes or more into the movie, and suddenly it just wasn't there, and we didn't care.

Sorry, striplings, but that movie was so boring I won't ever watch the rest of it.

I get it, I get it. Filmmakers want to say something important about the flaws in our society. Hey, I do too! I've been writing this blog since 2005! But, as Hamlet said, "brevity is the soul of wit." Drawl on too long, you lose the crowd.

Forced to make conversation amidst the silence, I said to Mr. J: "Anyone who has ever seen 'Dr. Strangelove' would hate 'Don't Look Up'."

EXHIBIT A: "Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned To Love the Bomb"

"Dr. Strangelove" was released in 1964 and is about the end of the world. It was written, produced, and directed by Stanley Kubrick before he, too, went off the rails and started making 3 hour movies.

"Dr. Strangelove" clocks in at 95 minutes and covers all the ground that "Don't Look Up" covers except the billionaires, of which there were fewer in 1964. It's a succinct, hilarious comedy founded on the tragic possibilities of nuclear annihilation. And if you minty fresh young'uns don't think nuclear war was as much of a threat as climate change, well. You don't know what it was like in 1964. 

How many roles did Peter Sellers play in  "Dr. Strangelove?" I think three. Yep, I'm counting three.

I'm not making light of climate change here, my pets. I'm making light of heavy-handed, didactic filmmaking. "Don't Look Up" is too long. It loses steam. At the 90 minute mark I was rooting for the asteroid.

If you've never seen "Dr. Strangelove," I recommend it wholeheartedly. I'll bet I've watched it seven or eight times, including as part of some foofy college course I took at JHU.

The moral of this sermon: If you find yourself with time on your hands on a Saturday night and a vague worry about how human fuckups could bring about the end of the world, your go-to film should be "Dr. Strangelove." Not "Don't Look Up."

This is free advice, and it's good. You'll most likely thank me, if you like this blog.

When Cold Dread Fills Me

There's one word in the English language that fills me to the brim with cold dread. That word is

DECORATE.

You give me something and tell me to decorate it, my hands will go clammy. Then I'll flail helplessly. Then I'll petition the bored gods. Who scoff at me, because every last one of Them has had fabulous decoraters at one time or another.

This is my back yard. After my neighbors demanded that I decorate it, I did the best I could.

Last Monday, the dreaded word reared its ugly head. I'm in for it, folks.

My school has never held a Spirit Week decorating shindig before. But there's a first time for every fiasco thing. Alas, we teachers were told that our students would have 30 minutes and a piece of bright red paper, and they had to decorate the classroom doors with a suitable theme based on our deplorable mascot (a tornado *cringe*)!

I have the first door across the hall from the Main Office. You know the Main Office. That's where the principal hangs out, in her posh office with fresh plants and an air conditioner.

We teachers were not supposed to devote instructional time to this project. The only time we could put anything up is during home room announcements on May 20. I must admit, readers ... I cheated. I let my home room students spend 40 minutes on the big slab of red paper Friday morning. As with everything else, they needed more time. Which they didn't have.

I am lugging everything home with me, crossing my fingers that The Spare will channel her former Spirit Week prowess and do the doggone thing for me. If she doesn't, it's gonna suck. End of story.

TEN THINGS ANNE WOULD RATHER DO THAN DECORATE HER CLASSROOM DOOR WITH A TORNADO THEME, IN LESS THAN 30 MINUTES

1. I would rather be stuck in an 8-mile traffic jam on the Jersey Turnpike with the tank running on empty.

2. I would rather eat fried scorpions.

3. I would rather watch The O'Reilly Factor. Indefinitely.

4. I would rather find my favorite finger within the beak of the aggressive, nut-cracking Decibel the parrot.

5. I would rather come to school without my mug of hot tea.

6. I would rather use the same towel throughout the summer without laundering it once.

7. I would rather split firewood. In July. With a hatchet.

8. I would rather take a pleasant ride around all the dirt bike trails the new owner of my farm has bulldozed into the landscape.

9. I would rather go two whole weeks without seeing a single vulture.

10. You might actually be able to convince me to renew my interest in the Methodist Church. Txt me.

So, Annie. How will you spend your weekend? @#$@#@#$@#!$!@@#!!!

Spare? Spare? Are you there?