The Mockingbirds

The Stupidest Thing I Read Last Week: Let's Broaden Our Minds

 
I read a lot. It’s part of my beliefs. Unfortunately, 95% of what I encounter is unreadable. As in, unreadable in its stupidity, meaninglessness and pointlessness. I attribute this directly to the fact that there is no place in this world for the woman with 105 IQ.

Because I complain a lot about what I have to read for this blog, and because I can never do enough for The Madame, I have been charged with writing a post about the stupidest thing I have read in the last seven days. The hardest part will be picking only one winner every week.

In light of The Countess’s affinity for all things draggy, Mock U will be looking slightly different for a while. But! Fear not, dear readers, Mock U’s most important characteristics, i.e., education and ridicule, will be in full effect, for they are constants we all can rely on in this cruel, uncertain world. Let’s get to it, shall we?

Admittedly, I read it a few weeks ago, but this article about a woman who walked into an art museum in Denver and (I quote) “pulled her pants down to slide her buttocks against” a painting was too perfect for me to disregard even if I failed to report on it immediately. Apparently, the woman did succeed in “sliding her buttocks” against the painting and there was some urination involved after the fact (the details are mercifully vague on that last point). Regardless, she caused substantial damage to the piece (which is valued at $30 million) and was charged with felony criminal mischief for her behavior.

The painting in question is a piece done by one Clyfford Still, an abstract expressionist (meaning he painted blocks of color on canvas) who was a predecessor to, and alleged influence on, painters like Pollack and Rothko. Although he never realized the notoriety of his successors, and even though places like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art already had “major holdings” of his paintings, the City of Denver dedicated an entire museum to his artwork. (I guess the museum in Denver is full of what the other museums didn’t want?)

I have always viewed the value in modern/abstract art to be more about statement than skill or aesthetics. In her own way, then, this woman has made a contribution to the world of modern art. As far as I am concerned, she has become part of the discussion. Seriously, is there is a more literal way to demonstrate one’s distaste for an artwork, or one’s desire to debunk the conventional wisdom surrounding what art is and how to value it? There may be a more fun and stylish way to express such thoughts (see below), but I can’t imagine one more straightforward.

On the other hand, considering that she looked like this during the crime (or shortly thereafter), her actions may have been motivated by something other than rational thought.

Regardless of whether she thought she was being profound or if she was just being crazy, I think we can all appreciate the fact that she wiped her bare ass on an overvalued painting.

-Baroness von Jeer

 

Mid-Week Musical Interlude: Rest in Peace Don Cornelius

The legendary Soul Train creator and host died today at age 75. We shall mourn respectfully with a dance party free of "Soul Train line to the sky" jokes.

 

Mock Oscars: Thanks, Coach

There are some fine, fine actors nominated this year for an Oscar in the best lead actor category, and they gave excellent, excellent performances; they have skills, they are nice to look at, they overcame hilariously large glasses and they are French. But one of those things is not like the others, and that thing would be the animate sugar cookie called Brad Pitt. Now, here at La Mockahana: A Blog for Your Soul, we spill a lot of ink besmirching the good name of one Brad “Brad” Pitt, but that is only because he is intolerable and we are right. There have been times when he, his abs, or both have given good performances in film; however, none of those performances, alone or in the aggregate, are Oscar worthy. (His abs did get a Golden Globe for Thelma and Louise, but we all know that hardly counts.) This is especially true of his turn in Moneyball: it lacks depth, it is unsympathetic and it is unbelievably derivative of the superior work done by Kyle Chandler in Friday Night Lights. The similarities between the performances is a universally accepted fact, something that has been scientifically proven. (Or will be proven. Or at least be graphed. Graphs are cool.) The aforementioned depth and humanity areas are lacking, however, and it seems Mr. Pitt replaced those aspects with "wearing a visor" and "not looking stoned", which is an interesting choice to say the least, and apparently an effective way to rack up nominations all over the place. But not a way to garner awards from The Mockingbirds! Nope. Instead, and as a rejection of his Academy Award nomination in particular, I am giving the Acting Coach Mock Oscar to Kyle Chandler for laying the foundation and pep talking Brad Pitt into a “performance” that has garnered him a plethora of accolades, which is a plethora minus one more than Mr. Chandler received during the five years his show was on the air. (Congrats on the Emmy!) Campaign away with your talk of marriage and wear your hair as long as you want, you little moonbeam of a man, but you will never go to State. And you will never be Kyle Chandler, who can also be remarkable in something unremarkable (see: Super 8). And you will of course never win a Mock Oscar, which consists of a shiny plaque, a bottle of Grey Goose and a three month respite from public mockage.

Clear eyes, etc., etc.,

Madame Taunt

Lessons in Lady(boy)hood: Happy (Mon)Days Are Here Again!

Finally! Tonight, the wigs fly, the claws come out, and my joy knows no bounds.

Get More: Video & Movies, Logo: Fierce TV

 ConDRAGulations! It's time to tune in and turn up the party!

-Countess auCountraire

The Replacements: The Ru You Can Do

The Replacement hunt continues and this time, I'm putting up someone with whom The Madame and I have somewhat of a history.

The Countess presents...

RUPERT PENRY-JONES

LOOKS:    If you have seen this man at work as Adam Carter in Spooks (known Stateside as MI-5) or Captain Wentworth in Persuasion, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. All British and proper and pretty and sexy and desperately in need of me to complete his life. In my extensive (Google images) research, I find that Mr. Penry-Jones's onscreen joie de yum does not translate to still photographs as well as I thought. His is a beauty in motion, which for the purposes of this exercise means I have to dock him two points for not being photogenic enough.    Score: 7

SKILLS:    Here is where I have to give the man mad, mad props. Somehow, The Madame and I stumbled upon MI-5, which I am most certain we started watching only because it's British. Our viewing standards have always been super high. Anyway, after our beloved Tom Quinn disappeared into the choppy, grey ocean, we were sure all the hotness and general badassery of the show drifted off with him. We were so, so wrong. Mr. Penry-Jones came through in the clutch. Add to that his brilliant turn as a beautifully besuited, OCD afflicted detective chasing down a Jack The Ripper copycat on Whitechapel, and he holds my heart forever.    9

INTELLIGENCE:    Why we pretend to care about this category, I'll never know. But based on the whopping two interviews I read, I declare him of average intelligence, which is pretty advanced for an actor. Highlights: Member of Wine Society (don't know what that is, but let me in): +1 point; serious about acting but realizes that acting is not serious (Hear that 99% of Hollywood! NOT SERIOUS!!): +3 points; knows that the perfect weekend breakfast includes bacon AND sausage: + 4 points.    8

Ok, my loves! I'm off to ogle more dudes. My life is really, really hard, y'all.

-Countess auContraire

Words to Live By: Pleasing No One is Maybe Super Successful

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody."

                                                                                        -Bill Cosby

Weekend Kiss Off: He Has Our Vote

LUCKY DAY FOR PRESIDENT 2012

Lucky's El Guapo Speech
¡Three Amigos! at MOVIECLIPS.com

 

Good luck with your own personal El Guapos,

The Mockingbirds

Mockingbird Movie Guide: Let's Get Pretentious

 
We have been alluding to it for weeks now, creating a sense of doom but also perhaps a little excitement, that perverse thrill that comes from watching storm clouds gather on the horizon as the tornado warning is announced on the news: its Oscar season. We’re still in watch mode at the moment, but it’s never too early to stock up on supplies: skepticism, cynicism, actual taste, insider lingo, disdain, booze, and snacks. Those last two are key as we will need our strength to get through the piles of glossy and glittery pieces of cinema that have been dolled up, packaged and campaigned within an inch of their lives and to also deal with our surprise when we find a truly excellent film. Yes, they’re in there, because the world is a crazy place. (Somebody oughta sell tickets, a wise man once said. In a movie.)

Okay then.

SEE:    Monsieur Lazhar

This film tells the story of an Algerian immigrant in Montreal who is hired as an elementary school teacher under tragic circumstances, and did well in festivals and is now nominated for the Best Foreign Film Oscar. It’s in French, which adds that high art sheen, but it is also touching, funny and heartbreaking, so ultimately it is a more visceral experience as opposed to a coldly intellectual one like some art house films can be. (A Metallica-obsessed chick who’s usually fairly cold-hearted herself and who is also writing this may have teared up at the trailer. Perhaps.) If you are not in the mood to have your heart torn out or to read, you can always go see The Grey which is a movie about Liam Neeson fighting wolves. I am recommending this movie simply because I wanted to type “Liam Neeson fighting wolves” and I also must confess that if ever I were kidnapped or lost in the wilderness I would for sure call Liam Neeson, who is now a legitimate action star as well as a respected actor. He may not be abe to save me in real life, but it would be nice to meet him nonetheless. Plus, he’s tall.

 

RENT/FIND:    The Artist

I took a quick trip through past Mockingbird Movie Guide glories, and I didn’t see a recommendation for this film. Apologies. Feel free to dismiss this film as brazenly populist but I would argue that is precisely the point. A movie about the importance of the medium and how much it means not just to the artists but also the audience should be a crowd-pleaser; it should also be inspiring and sad and have John Goodman and tap dancing. We can thank the French for this as well, which may explain why the film is so beautiful and expertly crafted, almost as beautiful and expertly crafted as Notorious, one the best films of all time and also one of my favorites, a film that is out on Blu Ray now, a fact THAT NO ONE TOLD ME. I will remember that.

SKIP:    One for the Money 

Perhaps your punishment should be watching this pile of toe nail clippings masquerading as a movie- that will teach you to not cater to my every whim and taste. Now, I am not as big a Heigl Hater as a good portion of the population is, but I definitely have little respect for her as an actress. Her skills are marginal (less than marginal if her wavering Jersey accent in the trailer is any indication) and her looks are merely fine, but the real problem is her refusal to make a good decision when it comes to her career. "Am I universally hated? Yes? Well then I’ll do a movie with Ashton Kutcher!" That is not the right choice. That is the wrong choice, regardless of the salary. And that was just one choice in a string of misguided and ridiculous career moves culminating in this mediocre comedy of bad hair and being handcuffed naked but at least that’s never been in a movie before, right? In conclusion, I really don’t want to have to write about this chick again except if I get inspired to compose a rant about her Golden Girl hair and how I would like to start a fund to pay Tilda Swinton to give her some styling tips. Stay tuned for that goodness.

I am so not on point. I think I'm still mad about the Notorious thing. Or I'm still obsessing over Ms. Swinton's hair. Anyway.

THE REST:    A Holocaust drama….a movie that is what its title says it is….Glenn Close in drag…we need to talk about Tilda Swinton and her hair some more…a French drama about cancer.

This is just the beginning,

Madame Taunt

Mock Oscars: It is Happening Again

This just in: The Oscars have lost their mind. They are senile; or perhaps they've had a stroke; or maybe they're just on a month-long bender involving booze, pills, male strippers, those little umbrellas you put in fruity drinks and a tiara. All we know for certain is that it is extremely difficult to track down and delete all pictures featuring oneself in a tiara and also that we have much work to do. Our mission (code name: JONAH HILL THE FUCK) is to provide a little perspective during the long national nightmare known as award season, to right any Oscar-related wrongs and to make as many Extremely Lame and Incredibly Ridiculous jokes we can until the ceremony takes place on February 26. Welcome to the Mock Oscars: 2012 Edition. Get into it.  

This is the stuff dreams are made of,

The Mockingbirds

 For a brush up on last year's fun, go here.

Marry, Fuck, Kill: Worse? How Can It Get Any Worse?!

We press on with this exercise, ignoring the locusts and sweeping up the dust that used to be The Baroness and The Madame. We do it for you, we do it for humanity, we do it because our senses of humor are not just sick, they're terminal. Come with us, won't you?

This round of hypothetical deity interaction involves Jesus, Buddha and Mercury aka Hermes, and the ladies doing the marrying, fucking and killing are Dame "Opiate of the Masses" Derision and Countess "Holy Hand Grenade" auContraire. Hark, the herald angels do sing.

The Countess declares:
(First, let us pray: Dear Lord, forgive the task The Madame has placed before me. She is a faithless heathen with a Metallica addiction, and knows not what she asks. Amen.)
 
MARRY:     Hermes, as he is the messenger to the gods. I love gossip. He is the protector of many things, including shepherds, wit, athletes, and money. I love meat, snappy comebacks, chiseled bods, and money. Dude has winged sandals, which I'm pretty sure I get a pair of on our wedding night. I love sandals. But most importantly, he has GOT to have the hook up at the Hermes store. I LOVE scarves.

FUCK:     Buddha. Two words: Kama Sutra.

KILL:     Jesus. It just took me three Hail Marys to type this, and I'm not Catholic. But I don't have what it takes to be a bride of Jesus, with the celibacy, the silence, the nunnery full of ladies all cycled up together. No, thanks. Sexing Jesus is totally out of the question, cuz ew. So my only option is to kill Him, which is a-okay since He'll rise again and forgive my murderous rage.


The Dame says:
("One man's theology, is another man's belly laugh."  That being said, let's do this, heathens!)

MARRY:     Buddha, because let's face it, he's going to be the most understanding of the contenders here, no smelly brimstone funk and because he's a little more portly than the rest, he won't have any body image issues with his wife. Plus, since his religion has been around a hell of a lot longer than certain Christians on this list, I've got a better chance of avoiding that pesky place called Hell. He seems like he'd be a generous lover and with such a peaceful expression on his face all the time, it wouldn't be so bad spooning him as I drift off into sleep every night. And besides, what's the point of killing a man who is just going to turn around and be reincarnated several times over again anyway?

FUCK:    Mercury/Hermes, because he has a strong face, his footwear is sassy and he's known to be in tight with all of the Greek and Roman gods, so he'd be fun to go to parties with. Conveniently, though, he is said to be the inventor of all arts and the god of travel and trade, so he'd be a booty call that bears presents. Bonus! And, since he's the messenger of the gods, I'm hoping he can put in a good word for me with Eros, as that guy still owes me one.

KILL:    Jesus. Call it a gut feeling or just simple math, but he's the only one left. That's just a lot of pressure to have to live up to some Virgin named Mary's standards for her precious son. Mother-in-laws are tough as it is, I don't need that kind of pressure. Plus, give him a few days and he'll be on his feet again.

Well, it's been nice knowing you. We are officially out of 'Birds with that bit of blasphemous action. Or not, who really knows? The universe is but a mystery, and we are fucking resilient.

See you at the dance clubs, Mercury!

The Mockingbirds