What you're looking at now is just the archive of the stuff I wrote from December 18, 2003 - January 30, 2004. My current and updated site, Lindsayism.com,
IS RIGHT HERE.
Attention all HBO On-Demand Users:
Okay, it's a 1993 documentary and it's called
By Satan Possessed.
It's a documentary about Satanists Among Us. And you need to order it as soon as possible because I watched it yesterday and it's the funniest thing I've ever seen. And it's not just a one-trick pony, either. It gets funnier and funnier as it goes along, finally reaching an unbelievable and hilarious climax. I was under the impression that 1993 was part of the Age of Irony, but apparently not so much if this was a real documentary. I'm telling you: the Spinal Tap/Guffmann/Best in Show/Mighty Wind guys could do a shot-for-shot remake of this thing using actors, and you wouldn't be able to tell which was the doc and which was the mock. It's so dated, too - like, nobody believes Multiple Personality Disorder exists anymore! (and that sucks, because it's the most hilarious disease of all). This show gave me the idea for a one-woman theater project called "Multiple Personality Disorder: The Musical."
(Sorry about yesterday. I was experiencing a Chinese Food Consumption Related allergic reaction. See? I told you I shouldn't eat that stuff. (But thanks for dinner, Ben!)
I know we all read The Onion, but I just have to say
this is my favorite one in a long time.
(
But what if God sees me as a slut?)
Sometimes I google too much. Like today:
Christian Advice on "How To Be Attractive"
Now that I'm on a "movies I loved in college" kick, what the fuck ever happened to
Whit Stillman? I just googled that very phrase (without the expletive) and unearthed an
essay arguing that Stillman's trilogy was Christian, and
this fan page bearing recent news that Stillman is working on a Jane Austen adaptation. I'm widely known for my refusal to see period films (Dangerous Liasons doesn't count), but I might check that one out.
uh oh, time for a Kicking and Screaming quote:
"I'm nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I've begun reminiscing events before they even occur. I'm reminiscing this right now. I can't go to the bar because I've already looked back on it in my memory...and I didn't have a good time."
The site
1115.org asked bloggers for their Guilty Pleasures last week, and I did one but forgot to link to it! Maybe it was subconsciously because mine is the most embarrassing of all.
Here they are. (oh, and btw,
Kicking and Screaming is not a "guilty pleasure." Kicking and Screaming is a cinematic masterpiece!)
Somebody should make a "free Winona"-style tshirt with Claire Danes on it and "Homewrecker" underneath.
Information Round Up
New York Doll's write-up and pictures. What does a guy have to do to stop being compared to Judd Nelson? More, it seems. He's the one I would have gone out with in The Breakfast Club anyway, so maybe it's apropos.
Jenyk's pics of the show are up. I think Jenyk hearts the girls.
Another gushy Weekly Dig article Only read it if you're
really really interested in the Boston music scene. Really, really interested. Like, more interested than me. Or probably the band itself.
Hi. Test. No Subject. (Yawn.)
Viruses are so last year. I don't understand why these virus makers don't get more creative. They could turn us all into unwitting participants in a massive social experiment/soap opera, but instead they mess up our computers.
Ooooh! How brilliant!
If they really wanted to fuck with everyone and change the course of history, they would make one of these:
Two Suggested Viruses
*A virus that sends out every saved draft email to its originally intended recipient.
*A virus that sends the last twenty emails you've sent out, to everyone in your address book.
Jobs would be lost, relationships would disintegrate, tears would be shed, phone lines would be tied up for hours. And the whole damn thing could be sponsored by an alcohol company.
I just had this little fantasy that Peter Sarsgaard googled "Peter Sarsgaard" "Oscar" and "Robbed" and found this site and dumped Maggie Gyllenhaal for me. He's so on my "list."
Oscar Nominees, yawn. These are going to be the most boring Oscars ever.
Big Fish and
Peter Sarsgaard were robbed. Though it's exciting that Errol Morris might take home his first Oscar ever (for
The Fog of War) this year.
It has been an unbelievable week for
Low Culture. If I were the kind of person who said "LOL" (except in person, because I think that's funny), I would say that now.
A new one for me:
Blogging about
someone who is in the same room
blogging about me.
My head hurts.
The Simple Life: Another Unfunny Post
You know that question: If there was a fire and you could only save X-number of things, what would you save? I sort of answered that for myself this weekend, when I had to remove everything I cared about from my burned-out apartment in a very small amount of time, without the use of a truck or much of anywhere to store it (I don't move into my new place for another week.) Turns out, when I was done, more than half of my belongings remained unpacked and mostly uncared about. Some things I had to save, or I would have needed therapy to get over the loss:
-Letters and diaries going back to 7th grade, including an extremely well-documented junior year of high school, complete with bad poetry, daily diary entries, tortured love letters, photos, and even the flannel shirt my boyfriend wore every day that year. And the poem I wrote the day Kurt Cobain died. An example of it's terribleness, the last line:
"And then you whispered: 'Nevermind'." (gag)
-The polaroids I took every day from January 1 - April 1, 2002, which include my only existing artifacts of a good friend I'll never see again.
-The diaries of my first year in New York.
-The large plastic bag containing September 11 artifacts, including the dust mask I wore.
-My personally signed Kurt Vonnegut first editions, my original issues of Might Magazine, my limited edition David Cross poster, and every issue of McSweeney's.
Not much else mattered, yet so much remained. I never would have thrown out the stuff I lost, but I should have. It feels kind of good not to be so tied down by "stuff." (It will feel even better, however, to LIVE SOMEWHERE. Just one more week...)
My friend Bryan, who, coincidentally, will be the first male featured in
"Date My Friend", has just launched his own dating website, and I like it:
Love In War: "Dating for the Agitated."
Last Names It Would Suck To Coincidentally Have:
Buttafuoco
Sharpton
Conger
Durst
Nolte
Stapp
McVeigh
Swayze
Bush
I got an idea for a website. Two, actually:
"dontcallhim.com" and "dontcallher.com" You go there, and read a manifesto on why you should not call the person you want to call but shouldn't (like your ex). The original idea came when my friend Jeremy got three calls in one night from a girl he'd JUST started dating and I said "Dude, she shouldn't call
you, she should call
me, and I'll tell her why she shouldn't call you." (The original idea was for operators to be standing by to tell people how to play their current romantic situation. 1-900-LUVADVICE.)
But back to the website: maybe there would be little tabs you could click on that corresponded to your situation. "Because he's an asshole", "Because of that restraining order", "Because it's only been twenty minutes", "Because you already left her three messages." Etc.
In college, after turning on the movie
Ghost one day when it was halfway over, I invented a little game where you come in in the middle of that movie and watch it as if you have no idea that Swayze is dead. It's a tiny,
teensy bit funny. Seriously. Especially when he's talking to Demi and she's not responding, or when he tries to move the soda can in the subway, etc. My friend Christy brought this game up the other day, because she had a (much better) one:
Watch the movie
21 Grams, and pretend that Sean Penn is his character from
I Am Sam. I didn't realize anything could make the former movie into a laugh fest, but that just might.
I participated in a Focus Group about mp3 players the other day. It turned out to be for Sony's as-yet-unreleased version, The Walkman. (My contribution was to suggest that Walk
man was sexist and should be changed to Walk
person. But I was kidding.)
So I was doodling on the legal pad they provided to each of us. You know, writing "Lindsay Moretti. Lindsay Robertson Moretti. Lindsay Moretti (
ne Robertson)", etc and since at one point we talked about the iRiver mp3 player, I of course wrote "Cry Me An Iriver" really big and then drew around it for a while, totally planning to throw the page away. But at the end of the session the director-guy said "Be sure to leave your notes on the table when you leave," so I tried to cross stuff out but it was too late!
Being Creatively Fulfilled Is the New Being In Love
I haven't been posting because for part of this week I've been working as a writer in the popular culture industry, and I've been having soooo much fun. I actually got paid to see a teen movie (suckers!) called
The Girl Next Door. It was ridiculous and sometimes cheesy, but it had some great lines and, well, I loved every minute of it. (I just read that it was written by the guys who brought us
Van Wilder and
Saving Ryan's Privates.) And it stars the sleazy bad boy of my fake celebrity harem,
Go's
Timothy Olyphant.
(Isn't it cute that I felt the need to say "fake" up there?)
I really am THAT busy. No site today either. And if I owe you an email, I'm sorry!
No site today, too busy. Thanks to everyone who came out last night!
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