Dee Savoy » wtf?

grasping at straws

writerds — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 02:16:08 +0000

I haven’t made it any secret that I want Obama to win in November. At first I was for Hilary until she and Bill got on my nerves, but she’s out of the race so watcha gonna do? Now I’m thinking McCain should do now what Hilary should have done before she was forced out and Jesse Jackson should have done before his unfortunate, sour grapes comments–get the hell out of Obama’s way.

Now McCain is likening Obama to such political luminaries as Britney Spears and Paris Hilton, calling Obama the biggest celebrity in the world. Is that all you’ve got McCain? Obama isn’t qualified to run the country because . . . people like him? Whoa! Ride him out of town on a rail for that.

I’m sure you can find video of that commercial all over the web. Here’s another bit of video that is just plain sad. I also admit most of it is taken out of context, but it’s still pitiful.

McCain is reminding me more and more of some old curmudgeon crabby because his lap rug is out of place. So my message to McCain–quit grousing grandpa. Go on and take your nap now. You’ll feel better later.

Easy come, easy go

writerds — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 00:45:35 +0000

Other than Tuesday, what day is it today?

Give up?

It’s Bobby Sherman’s birthday. Maybe you have to be a baby boomer to care, but Bobby turns 64 today. That’s right the hearththrob of Here Come the Brides is a senior citizen.

Sherman dropped out of sight, becoming a policeman, after the series faded, but when He sang Julie, Julie, Julie, Do You love me? I substituted Dee dee, Dee dee, Dee dee–and swooned with everybody else.

Sigh. Now Bobby’s old enough to get the seniors discount at the movies. I guess it had to happen sometime, but there seems to be something very bizarre in that.

stupid like a fox?

writerds — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:43:12 +0000

Please, Jesse, tell me it ain’t so that you managed to go on Fox News of all places, threaten to do bodily harm to a presidential candidate and let the “N” word come out of your mouth to a reporter who looked caught between not wanting to know and salivating to hear.

Honestly, my hope is that Jackson, knowing that people had equated Obama with him, found a way to put distance between the two men in the public’s eye. Otherwise, I don’t even know what to say about Jackson’s latest appearance.

In many ways, I feel sorry for Jesse. He’s been at this game since King was King. The way people speak about him now it’s as if he’s always been some sort of buffoon. He may have always been narcissistic and self-absorbed, but he made a decent presidential run, even if his politics guaranteed the majority would never vote for him. Jesse’s done pretty good by black people, too, working for their interests around the world.

And what took Jackson out? A scandal with some woman who fathered his child. Big freaking deal. I don’t care if he’s a reverend. I don’t care that betraying his marriage makes him a hypocrite. I think many in the black community abandoned and ridiculed him for no good reason. We humans, whether black, white, or anything in between have little tolerance for those who purport themselves to be heroes having any flaws.

Jesse, I’d love it if you could tell me this slip was part of some plan, but it seems you let your lip slip before your brain can restrain itself from commenting. I remember the stir you caused with a certain H____town comment about my hometown New York (you know if I don’t say the N word I’m sure not going to touch the H word). Put this kind of crap under the column of things that just make me sad.

The Politics of Smear

writerds — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 00:03:23 +0000

Not since Miller’s great taste/less filling debate have folks seemed equally and vociferously divided over a popular image.

Enter Barry Blitt’s controversial cover for the July 21 edition of the New Yorker magazine. According to a poll I saw on my local news 47% of those polled thought it was satire; 48% thought it was racist drivel. At the very best, whatever you call it, the use of the artwork was ill-advised. I’d rather not get into the worst.

In the picture, Obama is dressed in traditional African garb; Michelle is tricked out a la Angela Davis–all while a flag burns in the Oval office fireplace and Bin Ladin’s picture hangs on the wall.

Leaving aside the intention of the artist and the magazine for a moment, what I want to know is why it didn’t occur to anyone that such a cover would blow up in their faces. Was there no voice of reason to say, hey, maybe these images might be misconstrued whatever our intent?

Guess not. The New Yorker tends to thrive on controversy, annoying liberals and conservatives almost equally. But a note to the folks at the New Yorker–it ain’t satire if folks don’t find it funny. The point of satire is to expose the absurd. It’s not satire if what you appear to be exposing is character not caricature. Captioning the piece The Politics of Fear doesn’t change the fact that the cover more likely reinforced detractors views of the Obamas as being militant, Muslim extremists rather than ridiculing them.

Now that’s funny, and not in a ha ha sort of way.

To read more go here.

On a more positive note, at least it beats this–

If this ain’t freaky nothing is

writerds — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 16:37:44 +0000

Born a woman, became a man, gave birth to a girl and became a dad. Is that a rhyme? Guess not, but it is weird.

The Roof, the roof, the roof is on fiyah

writerds — Sat, 31 May 2008 02:52:00 +0000

Normally, I pay no attention whatsoever to Fifty Cents (I refuse to debase myself to call him Fitty or whatever). However, the story of his house burning down with his baby and baby mama inside just couldn’t be ignored. Already law enforcement is calling it suspicious, and as baby mama tells it, he vowed to kill her. Now I don’t know whether that’s true but, like many other things, this event reminds me of the writing of crime fiction.

Please folks, if you are plotting a novel, or arson for that matter, let’s make the onlooker have to guess a little. I think one major flaw of young crime writers is not making it hard enough for readers to figure out whodunnit or if they are supposed to know whodunnit make the motivation a little difficult for the reader to comprehend. Every reader wants to work just a skosh for that satisfying ending. Something. That’s what makes the ending satisfying (and one of the reasons I’m teaching my class on suspense).

Law enforcement, on the other hand, likes a quick and easy resolution, so Fifty–or whatever name he might possibly be indicted under–might want to try being a bit more mysterious (or hard to find) as the case may be.

Read Us the Book that Makes You Cry

writerds — Tue, 06 May 2008 19:38:00 +0000

Recently, we had an addition to our family. My younger sister and her husband adopted a baby girl, Christiane. So, of course we have to have the baby shower and of course, the author and kindergarten teacher in me demands that the new baby must have a book. My choice–Love You Forever by Robert Munsch. I don’t know an adult who can get through this book with a dry eye. In fact, when I was in Barnes and Noble looking for it, another woman, obviously a mother by the child glued to her hip, said, “Oh my children love that book. They say, read us the book that makes you cry.” That’s what I did. I read the story to my mother and sister in the store and the three of us ended up weeping like lunatics in the aisle. Is there anything as cathartic as a public, communal tearfest? I don’t think so.

Anyhoo, I was quite proud of myself presenting my new niece and her parents with a worthy tome–until I read this article in PW. Apparently there are some folks who find the book creepy and detestable. I never would have guessed, despite the mother in the story baring a striking resemblance to Shirley MacLaine’s character in Terms of Endearment (emotionally anyway). There are some who suggest that Munsch wrote the book as satire, but that strikes me as the protest of one guilty of mawkishness and lavish sentiment, and well, you’ve got to tell them something.

Oh, well. I’ll go on loving it and you can judge for your own self, but next time I feel the need to indulge, I’ll stay out of Barnes and Noble.

The Old Gray Lady’s Gone Batty

writerds — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 19:37:00 +0000

Recently the New York Times announced its list of the 50 best mystery writers and most of the folks I know went, “huh?” I’ll admit, I’m late to the table reading mystery. I can’t say I’d picked up anything beside Christie or Hammett and only because I had to for school. That is until a few years ago. Then I couldn’t get enough.

But I still have to wonder how they came up with this particular list. Did they stick a bunch of names in a hat and pick out the first 50? And who came up with the cheesy descriptors??? But let me ask you–do you agree with this list? If not, who would you kick off? Who would you add?

1. Patricia Highsmith

Rule-breaking master of amorality

2. Georges Simenon

The Trojan horse of foreign crime-writing

3. Agatha Christie

The original Queen of Crime

4. Raymond Chandler

The most profound of pulp writers

5. Elmore Leonard

The Dickens of Detroit

6. Arthur Conan Doyle

Creator of the ultimate hero-and-sidekick team

7. Ed McBain

Thrilling writer of snap-and-crackle dialogue

8. James M. Cain

Godfather of Noir

9. Ian Rankin

Edinburgh’s gritty crime laureate

10. James Lee Burke

American spinner of bleakly lyrical tales

11. Dennis Lehane

A tender craftsman with a tough centre

12. P.D. James

Prolific and cerebral grand dame of British crime

13. Dashiell Hammett

The man who dragged murder back into the alley

14. Jim Thompson

Revered creator of corrupt cops and sociopaths

15. Sjowall and Wahloo

The mother and father of Nordic crime

16. John Dickson Carr

King of the “locked room mystery”

17. Cornell Woolrich

Tortured pulp novelist known for Rear Window

18. Ruth Rendell

Criminal mastermind of unparalleled breadth and depth

19. Ross Macdonald

Raymond Chandler’s hard-boiled heir

20. James Ellroy

The most literary of American crime writers

21. Charles Willeford

Aficianados’ favourite who is ripe for a break-through

22. Dorothy Sayers

Lord Peter Wimsey’s witty creator

23. John Harvey

The man behind the jazz-loving Nottingham cop Resnick

24. Wilkie Collins

Godfather of the detective novel

25. Francis Iles

Pseudonymous writer of radical plots

26. Manuel Vasquez Montalban

Intellectual gourmand whose fiction mapped Barcelona

27. Karin Fossum

Norway’s foremost cold-climate crime writer

28. Val McDermid

Influential author of high-grade “Tartan Noir”

29. Edgar Allan Poe

Mould-setter for the modern sleuth

30. Derek Raymond

Hard-drinking, hard-writing British crime legend

31. George Pelecanos

Energetic, music-loving social crusader

32. Margery Allingham

Golden Age sophisticate who can chill or charm

33. Minette Walters

Unflinching chronicler of humankind’s dark side

34. Carl Hiaasen

Rapid-fire satirist of Miami vices

35. Walter Mosley

A bold American voice, not afraid to tackle race

36. Reginald Hill

Playful creator of British favourites Dalziel and Pascoe

37. Michael Dibdin

Late, great ironist who investigated Italy’s corruption

38. Patricia Cornwell

Shrewd pioneer of gruesome pathology

39. Scott Turow

Legal thriller-writer famous for Presumed Innocent

40. Dick Francis

Former jockey and king of equestrian intrigue

41. Edmund Crispin

Elegant and accomplished Oxford plotter

42. Alexander McCall Smith

Scottish Professor whose Mma Ramotswe has won hearts and minds

43 Andrea Camilleri

Italy’s foremost crime export

44. Harlan Coben

Mature metroplitan stylist loved for his twisting plots

45. Donna Leon

American explorer of the Venetian underworld

46. Josephine Tey

Acute 1940s author whose books describe the danger of love

47. Colin Dexter

Former classics teacher who found fame with Morse

48. Nicholas Blake

C. Day Lewis’ crime-writing foil

49. Henning Mankell

Swedish novelist with a bleak take of modern life

50. Sara Paretsky

Spirited creator of feminist sleuth VI Warshawski

That’s a spicy meat (no ball)

writerds — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 00:34:00 +0000

I have been a long time hater of Spam, since it was that mystery meat that came in the blue can. You see I volunteered one summer at my high school (back in the Stone Age) in a project called Project Hands. It was a camp for deaf kids (way back then I could sign) and therefore underfunded. We had Spam almost every day for lunch. Eventually we got to the point of making up a Dr Seuss-esque rhyme to amuse ourselves (That Spam in can, That Spam in can. I do not like that Spam in can).

What is Spam exactly? I am told it is spiced ham. Spiced ham? I want to know exactly which spice this is to keep it out of the rest of my food.

That being said, the mail variety of Spam has never bothered me too much. It’s too easy to click the delete button. But what’s with this new spate of spam that’s subject line is completely made up of Chinese or Japanese kanji? How am I supposed to know if it’s coming from the Australian Lottery or Mrs Ubinga, the wife of the deposed leader of Upper Volta, or wherever, if it isn’t writen in English? At least those emails amuse me and I open them once in a while. Does anyone really think I’m going to open stuff I can’t understand? I just can’t see the logic of it.

Anyway, I’ve procrastinated enough for today. Back to work.

Stand by your woman?

writerds — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 16:55:00 +0000

I happened to be looking at presidential news this morning when I happened on a certain posting at CNN titled why have so many democrats changed their minds. Before we get any further, let me say that I am a registered independent voter, mostly because I refuse for any political party or other entity to assume I’m on their side. If you want my vote, you have to earn it. But when I looked at the big three candidates that hat their fedoras in the ring at the beginning of the primaries, I could have lived with any one of them. That said, I also had the black woman’s dilemma: with the first real opportunity to vote for a black or a woman, which, if either, do you favor.

Now, you know me. I’m all about the girls. I’ve been waiting for a woman to vote for. But it is also true that as Obama’s star has risen, Hillary’s has fallen. Unfortunately, I do think it has to do with gender, but maybe not in the way you think.

Behind every great man, there is a great woman. I think that’s a truism none of us would dispute, even though some great men get saddled with stinkers. Conversely, behind every great woman there seems to be either a dead, impaired or non-existent husband.

Would Marie Curie have risen to prominence if her husband hadn’t killed himse

lf early from too much of his own product (radiation). Would Eleanor Roosevelt have gained renown far and wide if she hadn’t been her husband’s legs? Can someone tell me where Condi’s man is?

Okay, I’m being facetious here, but as women have found their place in public and private life, their ambitions are more often derailed by their husband’s missteps than their own. Case in point: Geraldine Ferraro, who recently was much maligned for a comment that is absolutely true–with the mood the country is in, Obama is the perfect candidate to stand for both change and conciliation. Granted, she could have done a better job of articulating that, but I admire her gumption for standing by what she said. Anyhoo, back when she was a vice-presidential candidate, she caught flack for her husband’s (supposedly) shady deals.

The same happened a couple of years ago to Jeanine Pirro when she was running for Attorney General of New York, Eliot Spitzer’s old job. Concerns about her husband’s dirty dealings nearly cost her her job. Then when it came to light that she might have crossed the line in trying to spy on dear Albert, it cost her the race. True, she should have picked a better snooping buddy than disgraced former police commissioner Bernard Kerik, but sometimes a girl’s got to go with what she’s got.

Now, there’s Hillary, who was doing a lot better before Bill opened his big fat one (and before the pair made Obama’s race an issue, in my opinion). The more he talks, the worse she does. In my opinion, that’s a shame, but apparently more than a little bit typical.

So my question is, when are most men going to catch a clue when it comes to standing by their women the way women have stood by men since the beginning of time? I’m not trying to bash guys here. They don’t know unless we teach them. So maybe I should have titled this post, mama’s don’t let your babies grow up to be pains in the asses. (see yesterday’s post to find out why that’s mildly amusing.)