(1700) Evening all.
23. Another twofer
22. Twofer
21. Time for cheese and greens
20. Carney and China
19. Moosh corner
18. Cornyn
17. Mealtime, all
16. Steve at 1267
In a slight time bind here at 1541 … usually there’s a film and I’ve two films ready to go, “A” films too but time, time … given that there’s a long backlog of political for later until I run out of steam. What to do?
Ideally, I need a short of 30 mins feature or episode of something … looked about and found this below … er, not such a good idea, shall explain why. So, kept looking around, but that was using another 20 mins. Run what I have?
But, and this is a big butt, the reactor to the movie has no idea how to do a reaction vid. It’s all a huge circular frame of herself which keeps moving around the small screen, cutting off the action. Ok, yes, she’s cute but if you wanted to see any of the film itself within 35 mins or so … well let’s just say it’s fraught (with sommit, DAD) … vlogger she ain’t.
However, and this is a big however … I started watching Miss Annoying and then started to remember … she really was sweetly naive … and the naive tend to be literal, like babies. Now she’s either putting it on for effect or she really is back in childhood, sheltered upbringing, whatever.
And some of this movie is a bit risque. At one point, she says, “He’s so literal.” Er … that’s Airplane’s humour, love … that’s what they are … literal. But as it goes on and on, she really is literal herself and therein is the humour in this reaction vid … in her, not in Airplane itself. She loses punchlines all over the place. So:
Following on from yesterday’s “music”, Steely Dan also covered a Duke Ellington/Bubber Miley number which last time posted did not move our chaps all that much … of course, I might be entirely wrong. 😎
I might also have this quite wrong (😎) but judging by comments over some years, our chaps are not so crazy for the slower numbers … sorry me, here’s a slower number…
Let’s speed things up a bit to finish today’s offerings …
By the way, our Toodles has been on Beale Street. Think they were there for the dining.
A message I dropped under a snowscene in Russia was:
“Irini … let us enjoy our Tramvai “Zhelaniye” this Sunday.”
But what can the expression mean?
Transliterated, it means “tram of dreams”, “of wishes, hopes”, not so much “of desire”. I feel that about trams (or trolleybuses, streetcars) as a mode of transport … forever rattling and squeaking with reassurance through leafy tunnels or through nights of promise.
Trains are wunnerful too in their own way, when not at the mercy of stalkers or thugs (attackers of Iryna, Charles Bronson) but for me, the soul is stirred each time I’ve jumped on a tram, which seems also to be the case with Chris Isaak and drummer:
And then there is Moosh @mongsley:
And so to today’s main feature:
Two Oz friends might also be interested, though they’re from Syd-en-ai … @KobieThatcher @ellymelly .
Don’t wish to ruin the post and bring you down, dear reader, but did you notice the demographics throughout?
By the way, Chris Isaak makes reference to the N8 tram and “Chapel”. This is the tram connecting Chapel Street, a more upmarket inner-city shopping street … boutiques etc. … with the city centre … I had a place nearby for a few years … lovely route to town.
(0954) Well, there goes most of Sunday morning … posted the music 0538, crashed, just awoke … so that’s a solid four hours of sleep! Wow. Sad that at our age, we count that as a win … and no aching bones? (1050)
15. Think this was part of Andrew Torba’s article … on X
14. Students actually marching for a good cause for once
13. The university (college) games we played
I’m afraid I must admit to readers that I was at four tertiary institutions, graduated at two of em, kicked out of the other two … ended up professoring at a fifth. At one of em, the tutor decided to play a little game she’d devised … it was all about buying and selling, a la Monopoly, and I’m pleased or not to say that I was not arf bad at it.
However, certain things were noticeable. For a start, the girls, who were half the group roll, were over-represented among the “winners” still standing (don’t forget that this was a woke left game decades ago) and the “losers”, meaning those who refused to lie and cheat their mates out of their portion of the spoils, were overwhelmingly male … idea was that if they dropped below a certain “poverty line”, they were made to go into a “jail” and just sit there, twiddling thumbs.
I was still out there in the corridors and dealing rooms, with a tidy pile, was approached by one girl, I remember, who took me for a fellow headkicker and step-over-your-dead-grandmother type. Suddenly, I said, “Here,” and gave her all my chips. This was not unlike decades later during lockdown, as an unvaxxed Untermensch, whilst the later-to-die-in-droves Vaxxed were free to go anywhere, including to the cafe/canteen for sustenance.
It was an interesting game … give the lady tutor that. The girl I gave the chips to was utterly shocked and mystified … what was the trick? How had I gypped her? I hadn’t … I may have looked like a swindler type to many, too fast talking by arf, but I’d had enough of living like an animal of no morals, so I walked into jail before the stasi even got to me. It was rough in some ways in there but they left me alone after awhile … miserable, glaring sod I was … went into solitary … theory was that any in there would become a mental wreck, being a pariah, no one speaking to the poor sod.
You know where this is going … it was blessed relief, peaceful in my solitary cell, a bit open to the elements but otherwise fine.
12. Tale of Andrew van Swol (on X)
11. Noticing a strange change at X
They seem to be giving blue ribbon Xers the facility to write lengthy blogposts such as this below … I’ve reposted a few so far, thinking hmmmm, they seem quite lengthy, these pieces. Nothing wrong with that of course, whilst we ordure-kickers get curtailed, reach-suppressed etc. … I’m fine with that … going to tell you a little tale in Sun 13.
Returning to old friends:
(0438) Best I say morning all before I forget. (0513)
10. Moosh corner
… I really must start standing that way (to get that retro thing going).
9. There’ve been better times
8. Very much one of the policy planks
… of my own platform … the abused women.
7. The male and the female
Part of the long article is:
6. Over at OoL
https://orphansofliberty.blogspot.com/2026/01/the-internecine-warfare-which-really.html
(0325)(0345)
5. The disgruntled forces
4. DAD at 1266
This Sunday in France:
a) In 2017, the football club in this town in the Hauts-de-Seine department partially closed to curb the influence exerted by coaches with ties to the nearby Salafist mosque. A few years later, radical figures returned and now control of the club is abandoned to religious sectarianism.
b) On New Year’s Eve in Toulouse, a 21-year-old man was arrested and subsequently sentenced after using an impressive firework mortar, described as a “bazooka” approximately one meter long, in front of police officers.
c) Meulan-en-Yvelines (78): Laurent and his daughter Ève, whose skirt was deemed “too short,” were beaten by a couple dressed in Islamic clothing. Mohamed, on welfare, and his wife Cassandra, already known to the police, were convicted on appeal.
d) DAD loves graphs. There are plenty in this article; includinf, 61% of French people distrust the medias.
e) And, finally, for all those French born non-France lovers. Here is something that you can support. Today is the African Cup of Nations. It does not matter who will win, you can still riot in Paris, but not in the Champs-Elysees….
3. Ivermectin
2. Steve at 1266
1. Albertan independence?
(1515) Afternoon all, almost evening. Been a busy one, ticking off the jobs one by one, back in to put up some politics etc.
15. Do we really need such things?
14. Who cares for the babies?
13. Natural medicine?
12. Farage and the WEF
11. The weasel words and phrases
10. Moosh corner
9. The horror of halal
8. Steve at 1266
7. Brummieland
6. DEI moneylaundering at the Pentagon
Too much going on today, chaps and chapesses … was due for more politics but ran out of time … long phone call … so film now, final polit post following that.
“Watching On The Waterfront nowadays, two scenes stand out head and shoulders above the rest.
First is the impassioned speech by Father Barry (Karl Malden) to the gathered dock workers in the hull of a ship where he tries to rally them against the mobsters running their lives.
Second is the confrontation between Terry and Charlie Malloy (Marlon Brando and Rod Steiger) in the back of a taxi which ends in one brother pointing a gun at the other and Brando’s now legendary “contender speech.”
Both of them are sequences where the characters do nothing but talk but each is a fine example of what makes On The Waterfront the undeniable classic it is; acting, scripting, cinematography, music, everything fits into one cohesive whole and the end result is a welcome addition to any film collection.
The story here concerns Terry Malloy, a New York shipyard worker who finds his conscience bothering him when one of his friends is murdered. Terry at first is a tough guy with a grim outlook (“you know my philosophy on life, give it to ’em before they give to you”) who despite his inner turmoil refuses to confess anything to the Police as it would make him a “rat.”
However, the arrival of Malden’s headstrong Preacher and the victim’s innocent sister Edie (Eva Marie Saint in her debut appearance) throws his deaf and dumb world into chaos. Soon, Terry finds himself falling for Edie and the Preacher’s words hit home, leaving the angry young dockworker to question what’s really right.
The mob meanwhile aren’t too happy about Terry’s UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP and begin to pile on the pressure, especially his older brother Charlie who’s torn between loyalty to his boss and looking out for his younger sibling. Before anyone can put a lid on things, the dockyard becomes a very tense place to be.
Brando of course puts his heart and soul into his performance. Terry by his very nature isn’t one to carry his heart on his sleeve and so the great Method Actor is left to convey his turmoil through body language alone. It is a testament to how good he is that you can tell exactly what Terry is feeling even though he hardly ever expresses it verbally. Instead his shoulders hunch with resigned indignation and his eyes spark with anger, Brando playing the part so well he more or less disappears into the character completely.
While he may have taken a lot of the credit however, he is far from the only strong presence in the film as Karl Malden’s rock hard Preacher is just as compelling, his depiction of the dignified man of Christ who isn’t afraid to drink beer and smoke cigarettes with the Wharf rats being a refreshingly positive portrayal of a Catholic leader.
Eva Marie Saint meanwhile puts in a convincing portrayal of Edie, but she is hamstrung a little by some old fashioned writing. Her pursuit of her brother’s murderers give her some powerful moments but there are a couple of instances where it becomes all too clear that the part was written by a man. However, she still gives us one of the most touching moments in the film, a confrontation with Terry where most of their chat is disrupted by a tug horn that is achingly sad despite the absence of dialogue.
Acting is only one half of the equation of course and needless to say, the story remains constantly gripping. The murder that opens the film leaves an instant grip on the viewer’s attention and as Terry spirals further into an intricate web of half truths, things get incredibly dark. The New York tenement blocks that tower over the proceedings provide an imposing sense of claustrophobia while the rooftops are a smoke laden jungle of chimney stacks and TV aerials.
However, if you look closely it becomes apparent that the crew still had some fun with the material and there is some subtle humour to be had – a wedding party degenerating into a brawl and a bar full of panicked customers emptying into the streets followed by a shot of one isolated individual desperately jumping into the bathroom.
All in all therefore, On The Waterfront is a film that is thoroughly deserving of its reputation. Brando excels in his role and heads up a highly talented cast giving it their all. Most of all though, it’s an engaging and captivating story of urban paranoia, filled with tough guys spitting out slang in barking New York accents.
“Think you’re a big shot, do ya? Huh? Well do us all a favour and check this one out. Ah enough a youse guys, ged outta here.”