Today, my Italy has suffered a terrible earthquake killing too many. Please pray that courage will reach the devastated. We have to remember where we began and we began from Italy. Lets pray her back to health, for this world is nothing without her. Thank you
I am a mystery shopper, Not an employed one – I volunteer. Mostly I’m forced to every week. And, rarely do I not get some lesson from grocery shopping– thus an enormous part of the mystery. All my family members pat me on the back as I’m leaving to do the weekly grocery – they think its some kind of heroic act. With tears in their eyes – and a banner that reads “safe return mom”. Ohhhhh…kaaaaayyyy.Whatever.
Cooking and baking begins at the super market, where I set out once a week with my super hero shopping bag flailing on my arm as I walk towards and not away from produce. Fruit and vegetables wait patiently to be saved from all the prodding and poking and for me to locate, inspect and apprehend them and bring them back to the temporary sanctuary called my kitchen. Where they will live out a quality type life in weaved basketery or on my window sill for about three to four days and where they will finally provide inspiration that they were born for the reason of perpetuating health and longevity in humans or my family members and most of my friends for Saturday night entertainment theme dinners at my place – I insist.
Why I bother – one might ask. To which I respond, “If I don’t Joan of Arc my way as grocery shopping patron saint and fight the war on eating poorly when we have no excuse to– as well, to stop the senseless slaughter of unsuspecting and delicious outgrowths– then who –I ask you – who will?”
But for growling stomachs – there is not a sound in the room when I ask that question. Not a sound.
Don’tttttt Dooooo ittttttttt? Don’t make the next suck-ass movie Bob. Can I call you that? I think I will. I had to look away from one of the scenes in your last movie with you acting as a dirty grandpa in the movie inappropriately called — Dirty Grandpa. Inappropriate for any race, any creed, any gender, any religious denomination and appropriate only for teenagers. Those who, alone, are capable of taking all that junk in that the screen may throw at them and then spew it right back out without them even realizing they’ve just been culturally raped. De Niro, GodFatha, please rethink it all. Come back to us cool please, Don’t you leave us baffled, dismayed and without a movie hero to go by. What will my generation (the tasteful one) do with our time? We’ll give you another chance. Go back to ”offing” in that suave and crazy way you did. What are you trying to do –secure your seat in horrible movie hell?
On an isolated afternoon last summer, as I was being quiet and contemplative, the sun found me. As it had been having a particularly ‘good ray’ day, the sun then asked me if I would be so inclined as to take its photo. And so I did. Then, it asked me if I would be so gracious and write some poetry and so I did this too. The sun then went on to say that I should unite the two in booklet form and sell it on Amazon as a Kindle. Just don’t shoot the messenger– the sun told me to do it.
How To Convince Your Boyfriend To Watch Downton Abbey With you
–No, there will be little to no skin exposure and yes, there will be all the free lessons in good manners you can stand.
The most alluring thing about Downton Abbey lies in its steady ability to display grace under fire. The fires are the same amongst people of every culture all over the land including TV land. The difference has got to be the grace the British and this British drama employ in dealing with issues.
Grace in manners, grace in hardship, grace in relationships, grace in divorce and abortion, theivery and murder– grace in their soup. No matter how you slice it or where in the DVD you pause it — you can be assured of it gracefully picking up where it left off and with nobody beneath the age of ninety-four suffering of sudden viewership assault from flying verbal misuse, or complete disregard of decent conduct. The over ninety-four have tougher skin.
Make no mistake, there are verbs flying everywhere all of the time at Downton–only, these tend to make sense. You’ll find the oxford dictionary come to life depicting all the synonyms of the term and the act of ‘honor’. Strategically cast is Lady Crawly, played by Elizabeth Mcgovern, as the American heiress. She and her U.S funds live at Downton and fully play themselves out in the English custom. Excellent move to have her horse and buggied over there as our interpret. A language peace offering and so she could come back with news that discourse needn’t be ladened with swears and flip-offs. However, with her non-British accent nor stand point, Lady Crawley’s Americanisms appropriately come in to snap us back to the reality that perfect grammar is not going to make the boo-boo go away faster.
Where there is a great divide between production company ideology, there is zero separation between the upper class and the servants in Downton. Life foibles are going to happen to the lot regardless rich or poor. It would be the fair treatment from the upper class dwellers of Downton ensuring that when life foibles happen at the servant level, and if they want to keep working there, they too must deal with them with a leveled grace. It just makes for good business.
Contentment is another thing they had going for them. Plus, they eat and drink from their fine china brought out daily for their enjoyment of being wealthy in real time. They don’t do whole ‘save the good stuff for company bit, why would they? Why do we?
The next time I snap at my servant, I will exercise manners… just kidding… I always use my manners.
Don’t get me wrong, I had no problems immediately liking this movie upon its announcement– the hailing of it came after I watched the movie. I also decided that critics are sometimes not only wrong, but they’re wrong plus they’re liars. They have job security though and don’t care. So kids, remember the adage don’t judge a book by its cover– here’s the film viewer’s version, don’t judge a movie by its reviewers. Now back to why I liked– no loved Hail Caeser, more and more as I write this…
Ready? Here it goes– Hail Caesar is by the Coen Brothers’ perspective…therefore uncomfortably accurate. Anything accurate poses a threat to the average Saturday night movie goer. Oh its been entertainment all along, Hail Caesar asks the viewer to appreciate it further than its face or ratings value. It depicts how life is stranger than fiction because fiction is illusionary and can and does go wherever the writer, producer, director shapes it to go– sometimes menacingly leading actors to where no non acting man or woman has gone before. Some make it back others stay trapped within the confines of a really daring role to the point that that’s all they have left from life.
Its all the writers, producers and directors doing, and we’re no better as viewers taking for granted all that getting lost they do in their role. Long after the writer, producer, director stopped daring and the viewer got up to get snacks and forgot to sit back down and bear witness.
Which brings us to the other question this movie wants us to pose– are good actors born and not made or they just asking for it? No matter what the answer– this movie asks us to appreciate that whether we knew it or not –we have been seriously entertained. Perhaps, sometimes when the movie is really good– at the expense of some poor actors’ demise as a regular non-professional actor/person who was left in the ‘syndication forest’ for dead and was ne’er to be seen again.