Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life IV: “10,000 B.C.” Leads Box Office

Yes, the movie “10,000 B.C.” did best its competition, and was declared winner (by Box Office Mojo) of the weekend box office.

And self is so fortunate that a review of this (self thinks cheesy) movie appeared in the same issue of The New York Times as the one with Manola Dargis’ review of “The Bank Job” (in which Ms. Dargis committed horrible mea culpa of referring to Jason Stathan as a “B-movie” action star). And so, now, comparing both reviews, self thinks the one by Ms. Dargis was oh-so-much-more fun. As it’s no use displaying your erudite vocabulary when you’re reviewing a Roland Emmerich movie. What would be the point?

Here is A.O. Scott’s helpful summary:

. . . as the story begins . . . the Yagahl, a tribe of snuffleupagus hunters who favor extensions in their hair and eschew contractions in their speech, prepare for their last hunt. In fulfillment of an old prophecy, raiders on horseback . . . arrive to sack the Yagahl encampment and take a bunch of the tribespeople as slaves.

Okey dokey, now that dear blog readers have the back story, we can now move on to Scott’s comments on the actors. This movie features blue-eyed beauty Camilla Belle as the damsel in distress, and Steven Strait as her Shining Knight in Armor (but with loincloth, not armor, self speaks metaphorically). Mr. Scott continues with his helpful summarizing, describing how the two lovers

have many adventures, involving bizarrely costumed humans and computer-generated creatures, among them a scary race of flesh-eating swamp ostriches.

Self thinks Mr. Scott is much, much funnier in person, as she always enjoys his guest appearances on “Ebert & Roeper” (which has now remained without Ebert for many, many aeons).

And, he does finish on a high note, making this half-funny observation:

. . . it is a mercy that the tigers and the other creatures don’t talk. It would be more of a mercy if the human characters, especially that narrator, observed similar discretion.

Self now recalls that, last weekend, hubby did want to see this movie, but self pleaded to see “The Bank Job” instead, and won out. Well, there’s still this coming weekend . . . šŸ™‚

Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life III: Spitzer, Drinking Water, CBS Weather Woman and Other Mysteries

First things first: self really needs to get this one off her chest. You of the 866 area code who calls self’s home at least five times a day, you might as well give it up because self is never, ever going to pick up the phone, OK? Got that?

Last night, after walking the dogs, hubby walks in the door shaking his head and declares Bella (our older dog) showing signs of “senility.” What? He didn’t notice? She is absolutely supine 22 of 24 hours in the day. The only time she moves is when she smells something cooking in the kitchen, and then she licks the entire kitchen floor. Today, self was bringing her to the groomer, and she began shaking like a leaf! This does not bode well, dear blog readers.

Then, this Spitzer guy. There was a time when he was hailed as the White Knight of Wall Street — the guy who put teeth into the SEC and went after crooked Wall Street investment bankers, thereby restoring the public’s trust in the honesty of our banks, our officials, and our government. Then, early this morning, self saw news item on the web that he had been mixed up with a prostitution ring. Though this was clearly odd, self did not have much time to mull over it. But, on the way to pick up the dogs from the groomer, self heard on the radio that Spitzer had been caught on tape, soliciting a prostitute in Washington, DC. By the time she arrived home, Spitzer was already on-air, issuing his apologies. And, five minutes after that, self heard a report that he had not been the actual target of the investigation. The Feds had been investigating a money-laundering scheme, and that led them to monitor the funds going in and out of Spitzer’s account. Say what???

An additional item of interest was the news that an independent monitoring firm (the Stroud Water Research Center) had found the following traces of pharmaceutical chemicals in San Francisco drinking water:

    pain medications
    mood enhancers
    sex hormones

Unlooked-for side effects have been, according to the newscast, “the feminization of male fish” (What in God’s name does that mean???), presumably as a result of the last.

Self had barely recovered from this stunning information when the Weather Woman came on, and since self was on CBS, it was that cute woman with the bob, the one whose clothes self seriously envies. Sometimes she is in lime green, sometimes in orange. And her hair is absolutely thick and shiny. Today, she was all in brown, with tall boots.

Finally, self had opportunity to re-consider her readings of the past week. And she recalled that she simply zipped through Tom Perrotta’s Little Children. There were two suburban couples in that novel, whose marriages were falling apart. As it happened, their children belonged to the same playgroup (or group that met in the same playground, anyway). One of the husbands went to San Diego and determined, after experiencing hot kinky sex, that he would never return home (How funny that he should experience that in San Diego, self muses, though of course one can have hot sex in any city, even in a cornfield, for goodness’ sake! It’s just that San Diego doesn’t immediately strike one as the place to go if one wants such)

One of the moms has an affair with one of the stay-at-home dads (a cute one). What are the chances? Self remembers her own lackluster afternoons in the playground, when son was a toddler. There, she encountered a couple of Filipina maids (This was Menlo Park), numerous au pairs, and no dads. What are the odds that there would be a stay-at-home dad, who is also good-looking? Would that not be like winning the lottery? But, in the Perrotta novel, it happens.

Anyhoo, it was mighty entertaining. Self read it almost in one sitting, though she thinks the end was something of a cop-out.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

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