From the album In My Life, compiled by Sir George Martin, 1998, this is a shockingly good cover of the Beatles’ cryptic classic by a dude who holds a special place in my heart.
Jim Carrey — I Am the Walrus (Lennon/McCartney, 1967).
I do not care one whit about the Ace Ventura movies or Dumb and Dumber: I’ve never even seen them. That’s deliberately due to the fact that I really, really like everything else about Jim Carrey. I just think he’s an excellent, sensitive, even somewhat tragic human being. A real person.
Not long ago, someone started that old, “If you could have dinner with one person, living or dead–” question, and I immediately blurted out, “Jim Carrey!” Then I felt bad for not saying Jesus.
I guess I just want to see if I’m right about him. He seems like such a levelly cool guy.
Listen for Jim on both vox and keyboard in this cover.
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly.
I’m crying.
Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.
Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday.
Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob.
Girls Like A Boy Who Plays Music.
Mister City Policeman sitting
Pretty little policemen in a row.
See how they fly like Lucy in the Sky, see how they run.
I’m crying, I’m crying.
I’m crying, I’m crying.
Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog’s eye.
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess,
Boy, you been a naughty girl you let your knickers down.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob.
Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun.
If the sun don’t come, you get a tan
From standing in the English rain.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob g’goo goo g’joob.
Expert textpert choking smokers,
Don’t you think the joker laughs at you?
See how they smile like pigs in a sty,
See how they snied.
I’m crying.
Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower.
Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna.
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob g’goo goo g’joob.
Goo goo g’joob g’goo goo g’joob g’goo…
And finally —
— because it’s extremely true. (I do not number among the nameless hordes of diehard Titanic haters, I simply disagree with many of the characters’ choices.)
Actually, I tolerate this movie at a rate of only medium, rather than “highly,” but I picked it over Gremlins because I had more to say about it, I’d seen it more recently, and I had found better screencaps. Plus there is Zooey Deschanel as a blonde. Singing. In the shower.
Elf (Jon Favreau, 2003).
After inadvertently wreaking havoc on the elf community due to his ungainly size, a man raised as an elf at the North Pole is sent to the U.S. in search of his true identity.
(the imdb)
Please answer the phone that way at least once this week. I plan to but, then, I almost always answer the phone weird, so I won’t have that element of surprise that you will. (My new favorite? Ask the person who’s calling you if they’re there instead of saying hello. Example: it comes up on caller I.D. as “Joe Brown.” Answer the phone, “Is Joe there? Can I speak with Joe Brown, please? Mr. Brown? You’re probably wondering why I’ve called …”)
That’s another thing. (sigh) Buddy, you should know that your father — he’s on the Naughty List.
Nooooo!
I remember thinking when this came out how odd it was that Jon Favreau directed it, but Buddy’s father Walter Hobbs, as interpreted by James Caan, is certainly what I would think of as a Favreauvian creation: a nasty, singleminded piece of work who needs the familiar but lonely high ground of distance from others, and congruent distance from the emotions intimacy might entail, above all else.
(Psst, it is Amy Sedaris. Woo-hoo!)
I think we should call security.
Good idea.
I like to whisper too!
Buddy is a nuisance to his own father not only because of his inconvenient bumblings, but also because he is a deviation from the norm. To confront a person who won’t let you push them away is to confront yourself, and people like Walter Hobbs seek to avoid that at all costs. I believe Favreau is a genius at whipping up these mean little slaves to the system, as an actor and as a director.
That said about a keen and critical eye for slaves to the system, the product placement in this film is almost beyond belief. One of the most blatant things I’ve seen since E.T. I do not count the scene in Wayne’s World II because they did that on purpose (albeit they got paid).
Zooey Deschanel: I don’t know about elves. I didn’t think much about elves because I was trying to think about the man in charge, the one that was going to bring me presents. I believed in Santa Claus until I was, like, 14. [I believed] if my parents think I do, then they’ll give me two sets of presents. And if Santa Claus really does exist, then he’ll appreciate my support.
(“Zooey Deschanel talks about Elf.” Rebecca Murray. 2003. About.com)
Make work your favorite. That’s your new “favorite.”
When the threads of this project were spun out of the distaff of Hollywood nothingness in 1993, Jim Carrey was originally attached to star as Buddy the Elf. I truly love the guy but I am pretty glad he didn’t get it. He’s got far too much pathos in his eyes and the film would have flopped. Will Ferrell gives Buddy an unblinking, irascible cheerfulness that you get the sense would not flag in the face of finding himself engulfed in flames, like a grip of Terminator robots grimly marching across the ocean floor in pursuit of John Connor. Oh, hey, marriage-made-in-heaven sequel idea? “Come wit’ me if yoo be-leaf in Santa!”
Now what can I get you for Christmas?
Don’t tell him what you want, he’s a liar.
Let the kid talk.
You disgust me! How can you live with yourself?
Just cool it, Zippy.
You sit on a throne of lies!
See? I told you Zooey Deschanel showers in this movie. She also eats top ramen. Tell a friend.
Yeah, pretty much. Where this film succeeds for me is in its treatment of the redemption of characters peripheral to Buddy the Elf: namely, his father, Walter, and Jovie, his would-be girlfriend. Grating as he is, if Buddy had changed to accept the new world in to which he thrusts himself, it would have been a cheap and deflating transformation à la Enchanted.*
To see people rise above themselves and protect a dumb, innocent guy is at least affirming. Buddy doesn’t have to change, because the world will always have burpy rays of sunshine: we need to change enough to take care of them, to share their optimism and deserve their devotion. I can hang with that.
Extra-tolerable bonus: Buddy’s supervisor at the North Pole is Peter Billingsley, of A Christmas Story. “You’re not a cotton-headed ninny-muggins, Buddy. You’re just … different.” Aw. Super-cool!
*Enchanted had nice music but, really, Giselle goes from being a full-throated maiden of the forest to Chi-ironing her hair and operating a dress shop in Manhattan. Conform, little girl! For all the posturing at positioning a new kind of feminist anti-hero that that script threw at us, in the end, it pandered to the same “princess-demographic” ideals it was purporting to rebel against. But, dang, that Amy Adams is cute as a button, yes?
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Garth Jennings, 2005). I’ve finally acheived the optimal balance of seeing this movie sober and, um, less so (it happens), and I can confidently say what I figured all along, which is that of course I liked the books better. But I think it’s really great that I live in a world in which a brace of shit movies get churned out per annum, making it so easy to lose hope — yet a Douglas Adams-book-based flick actually got off the ground and got made. That’s a ray of sunshine through the clouds. Yes?
This post originally appeared on Dec 2, 2009, at 9:57 PM.
Grand news. The parent-teacher conference went wonderfully!, beyond my wildest dreams!, and I think I may even have snowed kidlet’s teacher in to buying that I am an adult, an elaborate new con on which I’ve been working, whose growing success at the grocery, church, and among new acquaintances is beginning to perturb me and make me check for crow’s feet.
On the way back from picking up the kidlet and Special K from the park where they played while I was at the conference because I was busy conferencing on top secret conferencey shit, Katohs and I were discussing all things fantastic, adorable, unique, and vintage-ish, as we are wont to do, and she said, “I came to a point in my life where I realized I was never going to get to be Zooey Deschanel, and I was like, ‘What’s the point in going on?'”
I replied, “But that’s okay. All we can do is try to inject a little Zooey into each day, like be inspired by her energy!” advancing one of my typical over-optimistic, all-god’s-chillun-got-hands, hippie-crazy-go-nuts solutions that often barely even mean anything in the final analysis. When I am up against a tough point in conversation with a friendoh who is downohs, I sometimes morph into Dharma from Dharma and Greg — cryptic comments about the universe and energy and destiny just fall out of my mouth. But I think, actually, this time I managed to string together some pretty good advice!
I think we women often admire a quality in another woman and somehow, whether it is something ugly and atavistic, or something society has trained us to do that we can more easily shake off, we want that quality for ourselves instead of simply accepting with grace and admiration what a lucky thing it is that that other woman has the quality we like and how fortunate we have been to experience it. We are a covetous bunch, we ladies. “If I could sing like her; if I had hair like hers; if only I had her body; her style; her car or career or cake serving set…”
“…then?” What? Your life would be perfect? Never! There has never been a perfect, easy, or charmed life in the history of EVER! We are wasting such chances with our jealousy and poisonous reaction to a standout quality in another gal, blinded by our instant avarice: when something sticks out in your mind about another woman, ignore the negative instinct and instead seize a vital opportunity to connect with a woman, as two people. We need all to work on this.
Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source
We have to love each other first, because then loving ourselves will come next, and then when you have so much going on already, it’s only natural that the love of whatever man or woman strikes your fancy will follow! (See, if the whole admire-other-women-and-love-them-for-the-reflection-of-the-creator-in-them-that-is-also-in-you bit didn’t work, then hopefully the it-will-make-your-crush-crush-back bit will. I’m new-agey but also very sneaky!)
Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source (again)
None of this is to say Katohs was jealous. She was expressing admiration for Zooey Deschanel. But I think it’s interesting that our culture has conditioned a young woman, especially even one as bright and categorically outstanding as Special K, to, when she sees a woman she admires and idolizes, even joke about wanting to be her, rather than just be able to be like her. Weird people we all are or have been made to be. I’m trying to change, personally. I’m hoping it’s something that can be a choice.
Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source (again)
Other highlights: over lunch at Thai House, I introduced Katohs to the concept and history of “spoonerisms;” kidlet told me flatly that she was going to marry Jude Law, and, when she did, I would need to build her a house for them to live in (knowing Jude Law and the rumors I have heard of his skeeviness this is entirely possible and I guess I had better start saving); and Special K and I determined that it is mainly okay to slap a baby if the baby is really, really annoying.
No babies were slapped in the writing of this self-audit.
edit: So this is the promised Flashback Friday post that picks up the thread of thought in the 69 Days of Wonder Woman: Day 5 post. It’s all about rejecting the modern standard of cattiness and pointless avarice and trading them for cooperation and admiration. I mean, Jesus Christ, we are playing right in to the hands of the machine with this bullshit behavior, ladies. If you’re all bound up in bitching each other out, then you’re not paying attention to what’s going on around you, which means you’re not trying to change anything, which means everything can stay its shitty same self, which means the machine wins. Do you see? Revolution! — won’t you please help me do it up right?
Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt in (500) Days of Summer (Mark Webb, 2009).
“Tom meets Summer on January 8th. He knows almost immediately she’s who he’s been searching for. This is a story of boy meets girl. But you should know up front, this is not a love story.”
(Summer is the consummate Virgo. Anal in both senses and an overanalytical, old-fashioned, misanthropic commitment-phobe, to boot.)
Pretty much, Nancy Boy. He is the opposite of Summer — oh, noes, but Tom loves her so much, what will happen next?! Can these crazy kids work it out when all the odds and Summer’s lack of romantic soulful feelings to Tom are against them??? Actually, SPOILER, it does not pan out. Major spoiler, really. The ending is optimistic but also underlying it is a cheap joke by its creator, which on reflection aptly typifies the reality of love, doesn’t it?, so I take that back as a criticism; now that I think about it, it almost makes me like the stupid joke more. The complaint I have heard most often is that this movie is good except for them breaking up. I dig what you’re saying but to me it’s like when people complain about the fact that Jo and Laurie in Little Women did not get together — that’s how the world is, sometimes you think a thing should go a way, and it doesn’t, and that’s amor fati; i.e., part of the plan too big for you to understand, for now. I think that’s what makes it good.
Screencaps from this movie are everywhere, but these nifty subtitled ones come courtesy One Day, One Movie. The soundtrack is pretty darned good, too, although I am aware there’s been a weird backlash against it. I’m not good at worrying about people’s opinions of what is cool or not cool within my weird range of musical tastes (she says as George Jones follows The Cardigans which followed Pink Floyd on her iTunes playlist — I truly never know what to expect), so I still strongly advocate you buy or illegally download the soundtrack. At least go to my previous post somewhat related to this issue and get Zooey’s cover of Nancy Sinatra’s “Sugar Town”.
There is nothing about putting this post together that I don’t like. Ellen Von Unwerth photographed Kate Beckinsale and Zooey Deschanel for the new Absolut Vodka campaign. Pics debuted yesterday. First look at what I can find of the ads so far, three photos of Kate Beckinsale have been released with drink recipes so far and one of Zooey D, will keep you updated if I find more as this story unfolds! Quotes below the ads are overwrought blurbs from the press release.
Kate Beckinsale photographed by Ellen Von Unwerth for Absolut vodka.
• Beckinsale channels the 1980s as she is inspired by the lime garnish that can work in many lightly-mixed drinks in the ABSOLUT Tonic Twist ad. A second look at the ad reveals details that the swirls initially hide and the turn table and records give a musical theme to the ambience.
Kate Beckinsale photographed by Ellen Von Unwerth for Absolut vodka.
• In the ABSOLUT Crush ad, Beckinsale is larger than life, walking through a Miami-like city, home of sunshine and oranges. “Crush” is another way of saying “squeeze,” for fresh-squeezed juice.
By the way, once I saved these for myself from various official channels, I edited and scaled them to be extra-large for you, so click through to save the big versions.
Zooey Deschanel photographed by Ellen Von Unwerth for Absolut vodka.
• In the ABSOLUT Cosmo ad, Deschanel adds a science-fiction flair to the traditional ABSOLUT® CITRON cocktail in a retro-hip yet modern lounge as she plays the role of a “cosmo”-naut.
Kate Beckinsale photographed by Ellen Von Unwerth for Absolut vodka.
• There are many versions of the Bloody Mary legend with all of them involving calling Mary’s ghost while chanting into a mirror. In the ABSOLUT Bloody ad, Beckinsale brings the character to life as a stylish and mischievous temptress – one who won’t be contained.
Man. Two of my favorite actresses, shot by my favorite photographer, advertising a beverage which gets you one of my favorite things (*whisper*: d-r-u-n-k).
Grand news. The parent-teacher conference went wonderfully!, beyond my wildest dreams!, and I think I may even have snowed kidlet’s teacher in to buying that I am an adult, an elaborate new con on which I’ve been working, whose growing success at the grocery, church, and among new acquaintances is beginning to perturb me and make me check for crow’s feet.
On the way back from picking up the kidlet and Special K from the park where they played while I was at the conference because I was busy conferencing on top secret conferencey shit, Katohs and I were discussing all things fantastic, adorable, unique, and vintage-ish, as we are wont to do, and she said, “I came to a point in my life where I realized I was never going to get to be Zooey Deschanel, and I was like, ‘What’s the point in going on?'”
I replied, “But that’s okay. All we can do is try to inject a little Zooey into each day, like be inspired by her energy!” advancing one of my typical over-optimistic, all-god’s-chillun-got-hands, hippie-crazy-go-nuts solutions that often barely even mean anything in the final analysis. When I am up against a tough point in conversation with a friendoh who is downohs, I sometimes morph into Dharma from Dharma and Greg — cryptic comments about the universe and energy and destiny just fall out of my mouth. But I think, actually, this time I managed to string together some pretty good advice!
I think we women often admire a quality in another woman and somehow, whether it is something ugly and atavistic, or something society has trained us to do that we can more easily shake off, we want that quality for ourselves instead of simply accepting with grace and admiration what a lucky thing it is that that other woman has the quality we like and how fortunate we have been to experience it. We are a covetous bunch, we ladies. “If I could sing like her; if I had hair like hers; if only I had her body; her style; her car or career or cake serving set…”
“…then?” What? Your life would be perfect? Never! There has never been a perfect, easy, or charmed life in the history of EVER! We are wasting such chances with our jealousy and poisonous reaction to a standout quality in another gal, blinded by our instant avarice: when something sticks out in your mind about another woman, ignore the negative instinct and instead seize a vital opportunity to connect with a woman, as two people. We need all to work on this.
Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source
We have to love each other first, because then loving ourselves will come next, and then when you have so much going on already, it’s only natural that the love of whatever man or woman strikes your fancy will follow! (See, if the whole admire-other-women-and-love-them-for-the-reflection-of-the-creator-in-them-that-is-also-in-you bit didn’t work, then hopefully the it-will-make-your-crush-crush-back bit will. I’m new-agey but also very sneaky!)
Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source (again)
None of this is to say Katohs was jealous. She was expressing admiration for Zooey Deschanel. But I think it’s interesting that our culture has conditioned a young woman, especially even one as bright and categorically outstanding as Special K, to, when she sees a woman she admires and idolizes, even joke about wanting to be her, rather than just be able to be like her. Weird people we all are or have been made to be. I’m trying to change, personally. I’m hoping it’s something that can be a choice.
Lost credit, one of my zillion pics back before I was wise enough to source (again)
Other highlights: over lunch at Thai House, I introduced Katohs to the concept and history of “spoonerisms;” kidlet told me flatly that she was going to marry Jude Law, and, when she did, I would need to build her a house for them to live in (knowing Jude Law and the rumors I have heard of his skeeviness this is entirely possible and I guess I had better start saving); and Special K and I determined that it is mainly okay to slap a baby if the baby is really, really annoying.
I’m fading fast from Round 2 of cold medicine, so I’m following the thread of the last post. Here is some Death Cab For Cutie, the video for the track “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” which has been widely covered, I’ve bookmarked good ones here and there and I promise to try to throw some of those up at some point. Anyway, this is continuity and so forth because Zooey Deschanel is married to Ben Gibbard of Death Cab, who is also the lead singer of The Postal Service and who was born in the same town I was. Aww. Twinsies! Well, not the famous musician part.
Really beautiful lyrics. Seeing them together kind of makes me think of my daughter’s father. Maybe it’s the Nyquil talking but sometimes he was okay. On reflection … almost definitely the Nyquil.
Love of mine some day you will die
But I’ll be close behind
I’ll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
“Son fear is the heart of love”
So I never went back
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It’s nothing to cry about
’cause we’ll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the No’s on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
“I love old music, old movies, screwball comedies, vintage clothes and basically I’m an old-fashioned gal!”
“Humor is a part of spirituality.”
“You can’t force fun, but you can set up situations where fun will happen to you.”
“I think the people who become the most famous aren’t necessarily these genetic products of the weird American beauty ideal. I mean, all those Playboy bunny types. They’re not filling seats in the theatre.”
Quotable and AWESOME but 100% safe for work? Say what! Hmm. Someone needs to talk to Drew Barrymore about the proper attire for a photoshoot.
I’m prepping to go to San Jose with Miss D to pick up her gown for the wedding which is Saturday, holy crap, so close. Quick Music Moment because I need to commit to doing these.
So since it was in my head anyway, I thought I’d try something new today by doing a song instead of a band. This catchy and pointless little ditty has had some strange staying power through the decades. This song has been in my head since a heartening conversation I had last night during which I thought, “That’s true: these troubles will not last,” which put the lyrics in my mind.
The song is “Sugar Town,” first recorded by the sultry and petitely blonde Miz Nancy Sinatra. Please enjoy this awesome youtube video of Nance, and dig that rather elaborate intro (it explains why she sits still on rocks and walks around pretty much the rest of the time: because they blew the budget on the damned hot air balloon and using nature as a set is free). Also that is quite the shiny wig. Anywhere, here she is singing the smash hit.
Recently the lovely and talented Miss Zooey Deschanel (also a personal fave from way back, I think for rather obvious reasons, evinced by photo) covered “Sugar Town” in 500 Days of Summer, which Special K and her German friend assured me is rad and is on my to-watch list.
Zooey Deschanel – Sugar Town
I read somewhere that she and the music coordinator were hoping for “These Boots Were Made For Walkin'” but that it was too expensive to get the rights. It’s a shame, because I would’ve liked to hear a genuine voice wrap around that one rather than that atrocious ear-rape released by that talentless Simpson chick not long back. The blonde who is divorced and has big jugs, not the redhead with the nose job who got married to the guyliner boy. Anywhere, that up there is the fantastic Miss Z’s take on “Sugar Town,” and with that I am mainly outie for the day! Love to all.
The Thought Experiment 