Scenes You'd Forgotten (or wished you had) Part 3: Kong's Little Pink Banana.
In the 1976 version of "King Kong" the giant ape can't seem to decide whether he wants to save Jessica Lange's Dwan or eat her. Most of the audience were hoping for the latter.
The pivotal scene demonstrating Kong's dilemma was the famous "bath" scene in which Kong cleans up the damsel in distress in a lake and then the big louse roughly strips her clothes off with his giant, hairy digit. I'm personally very impressed with this part because I can't even undo a woman's bra using BOTH hands, mush less one finger, but I digress.
There's all sorts of Freudian crap going on here but ultimately one can't watch that scene without helping but wonder whether Kong's mother taught him never to play with his food.
It's a little known fact that the Faber University art department is actually assisting J.J. Abrams with his soon-to-be-released monster movie. Here is a still from that movie in which the monster is clearly pictured --
Those celebrating the successful anniversary of the surge should look to Bush's own words last year to see we've come up short.
Good evening. Tonight in Iraq, the Armed Forces of the United States are engaged in a struggle that will determine the direction of the global War on Terror — and our safety here at home. The new strategy I outline tonight will change America's course in Iraq, and help us succeed in the fight against terra.
It is clear that we need to change our strategy in Iraq. So my national security team (Dick Cheney), military commanders (Dick Cheney), and diplomats (Dick Cheney) conducted a comprehensive review. We consulted Members of Congress from both parties (Joe Lieberman), allies abroad, and distinguished outside experts (The Heritage Foundation).
Our past efforts to secure Baghdad failed for two principal reasons: I'm the Decider and Democratic members of congress had too much influence on tactical decisions. Not in that order.
Let me explain the main elements of this effort: The Iraqi government will appoint a military commander and two deputy commanders for their capital. Then they'll search the Iraqi desert to find a lamp with a Genie. Then they'll get the Genie to grant 'em three wishes. Except they'll all get three wishes because there's more than one person in the Iraqi government. Then they'll wish for all the violence to go away. But because they have wishes left they all get a Lexus as well.
Many listening tonight will ask why this effort will succeed when previous operations to secure Baghdad did not. The short answer is "It won't matter." The point is that I won't be around to have to take responsibility for it when it becomes obvious it fails. Heh heh.
I have made it clear to the Prime Minister and Iraq's other leaders that America's commitment is not open-ended. If the Iraqi government does not follow through on its promises, it will lose the support of the American people — and it will lose the support of the Iraqi people. We will be able to tell they lost the support of the American people by polling. Except future polls. We won't listen to the polls now that say I'm a jerk and my Iraq policy is wrong. Those polls suck worse than a two-dollar Texas whore.
A successful strategy for Iraq goes beyond military operations. Ordinary Iraqi citizens must see that military operations are accompanied by visible improvements in their neighborhoods and communities. So America will hold the Iraqi government to the benchmarks it has announced.
First - a puppy for every Iraqi.
Second - expand the Green Zone by 1.2 feet annually. By the time our sun goes nuklear in billions of years the safe area should include all of Baghdad.
Third - did I mention the puppy?
Fellow citizens: The year ahead will demand more patience, sacrifice, and resolve. It can be tempting to think that America can put aside the burdens of freedom. Yet times of testing reveal the character of a Nation. And throughout our history, Americans have always defied the pessimists and seen our faith in freedom redeemed. Now America is engaged in a new struggle that will set the course for a new century. We can and we will prevail.
Just a follow-up on my Obama post from Friday. First let me thank you all for the comments to that post. I appreciate y'all taking the time to respond.
I realize that I do a lot of bitching about what I'm against but don't always reveal what I'm for.
My views seem to fairly mirror don and Aaron's - I'd like to see Kucinich as the nominee but realize that Edwards is the only progressive populist with an actual chance at winning the nomination.
Hillary Clinton's been dead to me for a while as someone who has failed a chance at true progressive leadership from a safe position in a "blue" state. I'm very much of the mind that democratic politicians from electorally safe states ought to be pushing a progressive agenda HARD. In that way we can move the center back to, well, the center in American politics.
So that leaves us Obama and Edwards. Both present progressives with a problem in that there's a certain amount of trust necessary in supporting either candidate.
With Obama you have to trust that he will not live up to some of truly inane things he's promised ("saving" social security, making peace with homophobes) towards what can only be considered moderation in the crazy world of Washington. To support Obama I'd have to believe that he would act much more progressively than he's currently promising once in office.
With Edwards it takes a similar leap of faith that he would act on what he's promising were he elected and not turn to Clinton/ Obama style triangulation. Those that support Edwards have to trust that he's not all hat, no cattle.
So then I have to ask myself a few questions. Of the two which candidate is ready to face the Republican slime squad head-on? Which candidate is more likely to bring some sort of mandate towards a progressive agenda if elected to office? Which is the fighter and which is the dreamer?
Sadly I don't find "Barack Obama" to be the answer to these questions.
Update- I started this post before yesterday's primary in which Hillary Clinton won. I'm continually amazed that the discussion surrounding her win is almost completely centered on gender issues and the response to her weeping during a question a couple of days ago. Even among the lefty blogs this issue is open to debate.
Like the issue of race with Obama I find this discussion unseemly. The country is hurdling towards the edge of the cliff with the crazy guy behind the wheel giving it all the gas she's got. Debating whether or not the person we have take over for him should be black or a woman seems insane under these circumstances seems insane. We need to make sure we'll put someone behind the wheel that will turn the car around.
I'm not sure Clinton would or that Obama can. I know that Edwards says he'll try.
Please indulge me as I'm going to get a little personal here but as it seems to be mostly family that reads this blog I don't think it will be too far out of line.
As a kid we spent just about every holiday at my grandparent's place in Sandy. The times we had out there were so awesome that the ride out to their was excruciating. It was bad enough that the family Chrysler had a top speed of 35 MPH but it was made all the worse because we had someplace great to get to.
Easter always meant a big easter egg hunt; rain or shine. If it happened to be raining the eggs would be neatly packed in ziplock bags with the name of the individual grandchild who was supposed to find them written on masking tape.
The Fourth of July was the BIG holiday of the year and the one I think we most looked forward to. Grampa would barbecue and smoke hamburgers with grandma's special recipe. Grandma would make a couple of her famous apple pies. I would fight anybody who tried to eat the last piece. There was homemade wine aplenty which we kids would steal snorts of while the grown-ups weren't watching. At some point my folks bought me a go cart which we left out there. We cousins would drive that thing for hours. G-Ma and G-Pa must of had the patience of Job having to listen to that angry red bee circling non-stop. That and the illegal fireworks we grew fond of had to make them a nervous wreck.
Months before Christmas G-Ma would pass around the Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Wards catalog and let us circle and initial the gifts we wanted. I bet there wasn't a GI Joe or Hotwheels accessory that didn't have my initials scribbled next to it. Sometimes I would try and be clever and cross-off the pages with clothes on them just in case. As I got older I would circle the toys then check out the lingerie section. Ahem.
No matter what the holiday it would generally wind-down with the adults getting a little tipsy, G-Pa whipping out his banjo or ukele and breaking out into warbly singing. As a kid this was the only part of the holiday that I dreaded. The songs they sang were WAYYY before my time and the definition of uncool. Mom would always try and get us kids to sing and I remember thinking something along the lines of "Right. When pigs fly."
G-Ma wasn't much of a singer but would sit and listen when she wasn't busy in the kitchen. She wasn't part of the choir but rather the biggest fan. Sort of our family band groupie.
It's funny but the things I miss about those days have changed radically over the years. I used to wish for the fun of the impromptu softball game with family or wish I could ride that go-cart just one more time or eat another of those burgers.
As I've gotten older it turns out that the thing I really miss, the thing I would give my left arm to be a part of just once more isn't that kid stuff. It's that "uncool" family choir. All the voices that have left us that I wish with all my heart we could hear sing again.
The high-pitched voice of Grandma Fern. Dad's baritone. Chuck's better-than-expected harmony. Grampa's banjo playing and singing. Auntie Joyce's love-of-life coming through in her singing. All quiet now.
Today the band lost it's biggest fan. If there's any sort of sense to this big, stupid universe she's sitting somewhere listening to the caterwauling of the rest of the family that have passed before and maybe, if they're really lucky, baking them an apple pie.
When we left G-Pa and G-Ma's house we'd wave goodbye even when we got to a hedge that blocked our car and they couldn't see anything of us but our waving hands.