And so it begins.

If you’re reading this, then I have sad/happy news for you. And perhaps not the most surprising of news…

This is post #900 on ye olde Counterforce. We haven’t been as prolific as we used to be, and we haven’t been as loud and verbal, and maybe we haven’t been as excited as we should. We’ve enjoyed a moment together and we’re going to enjoy many, many more as well, but I don’t think this next part will shock you: Counterforce is going to end with post #1000.

Why end it there? Why not just end it here, or tomorrow, or four months ago? Because it’s going to end with #1000, that’s fucking why. Because the time is now and because I think this particular iteration of what you know as Counterforce is ending – if I can be as heavy handed as possible – and it has to end before the next aeon can be born. But it needs to go in its own way, in its own style, and with a little celebration. And a little dark forecasting of what lays beyond.

We’re not planning to bury it. At least, that’s not my intention. It’s coming to the end and I hope to leave its exquisite corpse just laying around for people to enjoy. But this isn’t a funeral. This is going to be a fucking dance party with eulogies and crazy LOLcat GIFs. There’s plenty more YouTube embeds and shit talking and Jackface pictures and theorizing about the fate of Don Draper to come before we sign off at this particular URL. We’re still going to talk about the things we like and love and hate and detest while also being super mega self-referential and taking this thing so far down the rabbit hole and up our own asses that the sunrise/set will seem like a perpetual strobe effect.

In short, we’re going out with banging and whimpering, and hopefully both in rhythmic and wonderful succession.

I remember that when the 80s ended, as U2 had their final concert of the decade, they went out on this intensely ominous note, telling their audience that they had to go away for a while and dream it all up again. Most people walked out of that decade thinking their favorite band was over, gone forever, but that wasn’t the case.

Again, that’s a bit heavy handed, but I’m this close to embedding Semisonic videos and telling you that every new beginning starts from some other beginning’s end. Perhaps instead I’ll just tell you that you don’t have to go home, but you just can’t stay here.

Not forever, anyway.

Anyway. Count your fucking blessings. You were lucky enough to know us and enjoy this time and this place and moment. We were lucky enough to know you and fap fap fap fap fap about things we liked or thought were important. And we’re doing to keep doing that here for another 100 posts, and we’ll keep doing it elsewhere. There is, for example, the podcast to brighten and enrich your days now. That’ll be an ever evolving thing. Put it in your ears and your mind. And keep your eyes coming back here for the next 100 posts. The final 100 posts.

And then when you close your eyes, all will go dark. But when you open them again, perhaps there’ll be something new there, just waiting for you to see it.

I hope everyone will come back. Everyone who has ever done anything with this site, or wanted to, and everyone who has ever read it. I want to bathe in all the old jokes and callbacks and motifs and references and the things we loved. I want the old shit to make friends with the new shit and then take the new shit behind the middle school and get it pregnant. And, with any luck, Counterforce will end this year. It’s kind of exciting to think that our last dance would take us right up to the stroke of midnight at the end of the world, right?

Return to Tomorrowland.

Mad Men finally returns tomorrow!

About fucking time, right? Bring on the cure for the common television show.

All I know about tomorrow’s episode is that it’s two hours long and supposedly called “A Little Kiss.” Other than that, I’ve maintained a blissful sense of being unaware… What will year will the show be in when it returns? Will Don have finally married his secretary, or even still be married to her? What will be up with Peggy, and Pete, and the rest of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce? Will Joan’s husband have been killed in Vietnam yet? And, sigh, what will be the state of Betty Draper?

Those, of course, are just a few of the burning questions. And oh, how they burn.

I don’t have the answers to any of those questions, not yet anyway. And I guess you could say that I’m ready to be hit over the head here.

Until then though, this is talking about some previous Mad Men episodes and other Mad Men Mania:

Tomorrowland.”

The intoxicating weirdness of Jon Hamm.

Christmas Comes But Once A Year.”

Public Relations.”

The timeless wisdom of Marshall McLuhan.

Shut The Door. Have A Seat.”

The Dream Of The Fisherman’s Wife and the art fetish of Burt Cooper.

The Grown-Ups.”

The Gypsy And The Hobo.”

The Color Blue.”

Wee Small Hours.”

…and many, many more.

Anyway, we’ll definitely be watching tomorrow. And we assume you will too. See you in the future.

Bad Things.

Well, this past season of True Blood came and went and we didn’t say much here, and so far we’ve only commented on the first episode of the latest season of Mad Men, but have no fear, August and I will definitely be here tomorrow talking about “Tomorrowland.” How could we not?

Who is Natalie Portman fucking these days?

Came across this gem on the internetz the other day:

Oh, that gave me quite the chuckle.

And, from that, I have some points to share with you, all of them only barely related to each other…

1. The other day, while speaking to Benjie, I was just bullshitting and joking around, as I am wont to do, and I retorted to something or other that I should start a single serving website called Who Is Natalie Portman Fucking These Days?

I think I actually called it Who Is Natalie Portman Dating Now? in that conversation, but let’s get right to the bottom of it: No one cares who you’re dating. Or, if they do, that’s only half as interesting who you’re actually fucking.

2. Case in point: Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore. They’re still married. They have stayed married for five years past what the expiration date on that joke should’ve been. Congrats! You’re boring celebrities! But now we find out that he’s fucking around or perhaps they’re in an open relationship, whatever. Whoever you’re walking down a red carpet with will always pale in comparison to who you’re rubbing your genitals on. Of course we wish it wasn’t that way, but it is. Right?

1, continued: Meanwhile, Natalie Portman has certainly had an eclectic dating history. I don’t know all of it, which is probably a good thing, but Moby, for one. When I heard about that way back in the day I thought, “Well, great, that’s when I reach for my revolver. Ha ha. Bad joke, sorry.

But she also dated Devendra Banhart, which is… Well, regardless of whatever it is, that’s a thing that happened.

Perhaps she dated Hayden Christensen, an actor of dubious charm, too. I remember that was rumored around when they were filming the Star Wars prequels.

Though, again, were they dating or were they just killing time together while stuck in Australia spending hours and hours surrounded by green screen on movie sets? You can hardly fault an actor for the sexual shenanigans they get up to while filming a movie down under, methinks.

Also, Jude Law. Maybe. Face it, straight dudes, whoever that young ingenue that you have a masturbatory fantasy about, well, Jude Law’s probably gotten there first.

And, possibly Sean Penn. That’s weird, and kind of sad, but I’m not one to judge. At least it’s not Mickey Rourke, you know.

Some fashion designer/former male model or a British millionaire. Or Ryan Gosling or Gael García Bernal. Who cares? Those are less than tremendous choices for an inamorata.

John Mayer. Let’s just be thankful that, as far as I know, she hasn’t gone down this street yet. Thank God. That’s the kind of dead end that far too many cars have ran out of gas on or broken down on. I sincerely apologize for comparing women to cars in that metaphor.

But, speaking of John Mayer, there are a lot of things Natalie Portman is: a competent and incredibly inspiring actor that’s fun to watch, an Academy Award nominee, a good role model, a Harvard graduate, Jewish, someone with an Erdős-Bacon number, a director, a producer, a democrat, a vegan, a fashion designer (she has her own line of vegan shoes), a nonbeliever in the afterlife (good for you, Nat), someone whose birth name is Hershlag, an outstanding spokesperson and fundraiser for many fine organizations and causes around the world, a friend of Lukas Haas, a fan of NBC”s new hit comedy, Outsourced, and fluent in Japanese, German, French, and Arabic.

And thankfully there are a lot of things that Natalie Portman is not and one of those Jennifer Aniston.

And, of course, I made up the part about her liking Outsourced. Nobody likes that show.

I just typed “Natalie Portman” and “boyfriend” into google the other day and was informed that she is presumably currently dating a professional ballet dancer.

3. I really want to see Black Swan. It looks interesting and kind of b-movie cheesy brilliant. That perfect sweet spot where artsy films meet b-movie plots and Roman Polanski-esque level creepiness (I’m referring of course to the director’s movies, which I’m a fan of, and now his IRL creepiness).

4. Benjie Light and I were discussing that the other night and ruminating on what a poor year it’s been for movies. Also, we were kind of upset that we find ourselves having to say that thing every single year, it seems.

But 2010 has especially been strange since it seems like The Social Network, which is a fine, solid movie, will probably have serious Oscar potential (certainly Best Adapted Screenplay, but I’m talking Best Picture here too, party people)  just because we’re not going to have a lot of just stupendously great movies to nominate. Black Swan will probably be there somewhere in the Best Picture nominees too, I bet.

That said, I’d still prefer to see Aronofsky doing Superman rather than Zack Snyder, but that’s also kind of like saying I’d like to keep typing rather than sticking my hand in a blender, I know.

from here.

5. Because of The Social Network (and it’s strong success), I think a lot of blogs are having to step back and get a little meta maybe and also start thinking about the story of themselves. The amateurs map themselves onto the percieved personas of your Mark Zuckerberg/Jesse Eisenbergs and your Eduardo Saverin/Andrew Garfield/Peter Parkers, but that’s something you do after running around in the yard and peeing on plants and right before it’s naptime.

The big leagues is analyzing yourself, really getting into the dark and nasty places of your own blog/website, the twisted nitty gritty of your own origins, and pondering who’ll play you when your story of internet conquest hits the big screen.

Seriously, blogs o’ the interwebz, I am posing that question to you.

Benjie Light and I were contemplating that the other day ourselves. In a fucked up scorched earth production of the Counterforce story, we’d probably cast Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau as ourselves. But that’d be just so we could be dicks to each other about it.

Or, the recession era variation of that casting would probably be Vince Vaughn and Kevin James, I guess. And directed by Ron Howard. Ugh.

6. And Jeff Goldblum as Occam Razor.

7. And Kristen Stewart as Peanut St. Cosmo.

8. No, I’m just kidding about that. I wouldn’t even presume to guess at who could capture the bold essence of either Peanut or Maria, nor do I want to risk my testicles in the gambit of making a choice they’re not pleased with. They know who should play them far better than I could ever hope to guess, I imagine. That is, of course, if they’re too busy to not play the parts themselves.

9. But if they don’t comment on my fucking post then I swear to God I’ll combine them into one amalgamation character as played by Christine Hendricks!

10. You could probably cast any old twink as August Bravo. As long as they smell like straight up mayonnaise (that’s an inside joke that you don’t really want to nor need to get too inside on, believe me). Or maybe his favorite character on Mad Men (see above)? Or maybe one of Will Smith’s kids?

11. And, August Bravo, before you even say it…

…trust me, it could be worse. It could be Vince Vaughn playing you.

12. That said, I’ll say this in defense of Vince Vaughn: He’s probably the hardest working actor in that particularly bleak game of comedy films these days. Unlike the Owen Wilsons of the world, Vaughn is the long distance runner in this game. Just look at a sleazy guy like Bradley Cooper and tell me that you honestly think he’s got Vaughn’s stamina at this shit. No fucking way. That said, I’d say that Vince Vaughn is a lot like Magic Johnson in that he’s not necessarily great on his own, but he’s a great team player. If you pass him the ball in a really interesting way, then he’ll do something extra interesting when he shoots for the basket. And a little sleazy, as that’s the default of where his comedy riffage always seems set at (but still feeling classier than your average Bradley Cooper… anything). If he’s got no one to work with then it’s just a sad study in a man running up and down the court while dribbling.

13. Extreme side note there: I feel like every time I see a picture of Winona Ryder now, I’d describe the look on her face as if you had literally just caught her in the act of shoplifting.

14. In conclusion: Going back to point #1, Vince Vaughn, thank you for not being John Mayer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’ve gotten pretty fucking close to that territory more than few times, but you’ve still yet to fully cross that line and we appreciate it. I don’t think I could quite believe you as the romantic companion of Natalie Portman, but then again, I’ll believe just about anything these days.

The internet is an information superhighway and I want to ride it all night long.

I had this dream the other night: Picture the protagonist of some indie film as he drives in a car on a plain road in the middle of the nowhere. Either a cool new song by a not well known hip band is playing through the car’s speakers, or there’s an older song, at least 10 to 15 years old, equally hip and recognizable and slightly “ironic” and catchy is playing. The sun is low, the sky is dim. It’s either just after sunrise or just before sunset. The character is driving for a few moments before something happens…

Continue reading

Pills, porn, and poker.

The 3 Ps, they’re called. The most common types of e-mail spam/business that clutters your inbox, or your spam folder.  Also, replica watches too, apparently.

Here is, for your viewing pleasure, 47 random and unopened entries from my spam folder, with the sender and subject line:

1. Jet Blue Rewards. Apparently I’ve been chosen to receive two free tickets just about anywhere. Go me.

2. Blockbuster online. This makes me laugh a little.

3. Extenze. “Natural male enhancement. It works!” the email promises. I’ve been promised things before.

4.Island Rock. Apparently, according to this email, Bon Jovi wants me to pick a song for him to perform at the Grammys. Hey Jon, I’m trying to think of something clever to say, or to even think up a Bon Jovi song, but I’m just thinking about that Bret Michaels thing over and over again.

5. BlackSingles.com. “Meet African American singles in your area,” the email suggests. I’d love to.

6. Tiger Woods Fan Club. The subject line is: “Please contact us immediately to tell us if you still support Tiger or not?”

from here.

7. Locate Plastic Surgeons. “GET BREAST IMPLANTS!” Don’t tease me.

8. Cash -4-Gold. Sure, I’d love some cash, but honestly, people, if I had a bunch of gold sitting around…

9. August Bravo. “What do the numbers on Lost mean?” and “I think Locke is Jacob. Is he?” Yeah, sure.

10. Cash in 24 hours. One of my favorite subject lines: “Get CASH wired into your account tomorrow! $lut$!”

11. Sexyhousewife271@aol.com <Priceline Updates @ fandangonews.com. “Why wait when you can be having an affair with a sexy housewife right now!” You’ve got a point there, friend. Why am I waiting?

12. Rachel Ray Package. “You’ve been selected to receive a Rachael Ray package worth up to $500!” Ehh.

13. Criminal Justice School Finder. “Take criminal justice classes online. AT YOUR OWN PACE!” Now we are talking. The all caps tells me that you are serious.

14. Cheating_wife007@aol.com. “There are SO MANY cheating wives in YOUR AREA.” I figured as much. I like the “007″ add on there, though. Ladies are pimps too. The AOL makes me think less of all that cuckolding though.

15. COBRA health coverage. “Can’t afford COBRA? You’re not alone!” Uhhh, I’m weary of this one, you guys.

16. Oksana. “Come to me. I’m in a hotel. Come on top of me! I’ll still love you!” Dream girl.

17. Brandie. “Did you get email? I miss the way you suckle my pussy.”

18. Svetlana. “Hello.” This one is subtle, and therefore, as far as Spam goes, more insidious. I love these brands of “normal sounding” women’s names. You almost want to click on them. “Brandie” is a decent name, but when I am ever going to know an Oksana or Svetlana, really? For more than one night, I mean.

19. Dolores. I include this one because Dolores is a nice name, but one you don’t see very often anymore, right? (Also, unrelated, it was Lolita’s name.) Anyway, the subject line is: “Remember that passionate night we shared in Tokyo?” I wish, Dolores. I wish.

from here.

20. APPLE. “Your iphone is waiting to meet you!”

21. Shop until you drop! “Target gift card!”

22. HotBabyGirl4U. “I’m Cute and I know it :) Hehe.” I gotta admit. Her confidence is a turn on.

23. Conrad Noir. “The Gayest tennis serve.” It can be found here, apparently.

24. Approved Tester. “Thank you! You’re an approved tester now!” Uh… great.

25. Internet TV. “Fuck your cable bill in the ass.” I like the way we’re talking here.

26. Legally reduce your debt. “As seen on CNN!” That sounds legit.

27. VIAGRA where you want it. Where I want it, huh? The subject line is probably the most effective marketing statement ever: “80% off!” Thankfully, the only entity that cares more about my penis (and my finances) than me is my good friend, the Internet.

28. Kim. “Blinded by those white teeth!” Thanks, Kim.

29. Cash4Timeshares. “Don’t you hate it when they make you pay for those time shares?” Like you would not and could not believe, bro.

30. G.I. Bill. “January 12 to January 29: You qualify. Afraid to see if you have what it takes?” Afraid? No. I’m pretty sure that I do not have what it takes.

31. Diamonds. “DIAMONDS!”

32. Lesslie. “COLD CASH. Weight loss made easy. Eat whatever you want. No more diet pills!” This is that sweet spot where “sounding good” eventually translates into “looking good.”

33. Fling.com. “Spice up your life, Marco.”

34. Savings. “Get a credit check. Be debt free in 2 to 36 months.”

35.Yesenia. “VISA and MASTER CARD and AMERICAN EXPRESS. Get VIAGRA and CIALIS together in ONE PILL.” Tempting.

36. Troy. “Make your blog do things with my help. Financial magic.” Also tempting. Troy, are you a wizard? A warlock? Are you going to initiate me into your blogging coven?

37. Smoke shop. “What goes between your lips?”

38. Gimmesumluvin. “I’m look’n for something strange!” Now we’re talking.

39. Davison. “We challenge you to pursue your dream.” Hmm.

40. Perfect hair every day. “Celebrity hair secrets REVEALED.”

41. (500) Days for $1.99. “You need business cards!”

42. Piss loving sluts find Jesus and $alvation! I’m a red blooded American male, one who loves mixing business and pleasure, spirituality and golden showers as much as the next guy, but even still… I think I’ll wait til this is in reruns after Steven Seagal, Lawman on A&E.

43. Hi-tech Husband. Fist it says, “Want to make a little money at home?” Yes, I do. Then it says, “Want us to ship you a wireless notebook?” Oh, you tease.

44. Peanut St. Cosmo. Just the usual. She asks, “DID HE ASK FOR ME BY NAME?” when talking about internet celebs. Oh, Peanut. Of course he did!

45. Remove Dark Eyes and Circles. “Stop looking like a heroin addict in mere weeks!”

46. Help Haiti Homeboy. I actually click on this one because I’m amazed at how timely it is, how it may actually want to do some good. But… no. It says: “Get a loan. Get a condo in Haiti. Fuck some sad bitches.” As horrible as that is, it’s pretty much the spam trifecta, right?

47. Limited promotion. “Are you a real person?” Honestly, this one blew my mind. The last thing anyone on the internet wants is to have their “realness” questioned. And a close second is, “A/S/L?”

So, there you go. Nothing particularly revelatory, but that’s hardly the nature of your inbox anymore, right? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on the internet…

(1000)(-493) Days of blogging.

500  posts. Plus 2. Then 5 more.  That’s exciting. Shocking, too. Exciting and shocking. Reminds me of my last few marriages.

More random notes:

One: Christmas Eve, all by myself. Plenty of drink and food and a lot of DVDs piling up. And sleeping dogs. I was planning on watching an old movie I enjoyed entitled A Midwinter’s Tale, but I ended up watching it last week instead out of impatience…

from here.

It’s an old comedy from 1995, directed by Kenneth Branagh, going back to his bread and butter, of course: the bard.

It’s the story of a group of poor has been and would be and never was actors putting on a Christmas play in a drafty old church in a small English village. The play they pick, of course, is Hamlet, partially because it’s all the silly things one thinks of Shakespeare – men in tights yelling silly things at each other and then sword fighting – but also because it is the ultimate play, the ultimate endeavor of theatrical drama. And somewhere along the way they find themselves, some light within themselves that’s still burning bright. Of course.

It’s a minor film, but a likable one in my book. It’s 90s comedy and independent film making at it’s finest, also. Branagh is a capable director with a good eye for finding new angles within Shakespeare to reveal to an audience and the cast is tight and enjoyable. Especially Absolutely Fabulous‘ Julia Sawalha as the female lead.

Two: So, right, but I’ve already watched that. I’ve got some work to do but I want to squeeze a movie or two out of this night. I doubt It’s A Wonderful Life is on, though it should be, of course, and I’m actually a bit sick to death of X-mas already. In fact, you know what I’m in the mood for? A ghost story, or something like that. Something creepy. I wish there more adaptations (that were good) of Shirley Jackson’s novels. Sigh.

My choices are, and this is interesting, a South Korean horror film called A Tale Of Two Sisters or it’s American remake, The Uninvited? Granted, the traditional logic here is to watch the original first, especially when the remake is an American take on an Asian original, and I’ve heard good things about the South Korean film, but obviously I’ve never been excited enough to watch it before now.

Though, slight exception to the rule: I really did like Gore Verbinksi’s remake of The Ring. Not the most logical film, of course, but Verbinkski did a remarkable job at effectively capturing dread in the cinema, something that is a lot harder to do than one would think. Actually, previous only Roman Polanski and David Lynch have been truly good at it in my book.

Actually, you know what I really want to watch? The Others. That movie was brilliant.

Three: Speaking of the cinema and adaptations, a few posts ago I was talking about how I was worried that a remake of Home Alone would end with gun violence, and that actually got me thinking a bit…

I’m surprised it hasn’t made the leap to the movies yet, but could one effectively stage a version of Clifford The Big Red Dog series of kid’s books? Especially in this period of economic turmoil, could a family realistically afford to feed this furry monster? And, much like E.T., wouldn’t the government want to step in and take a look at this canine behemoth?

Maybe that’s the angle right there. In the first act, the family gets the puppy, and the little girl’s love causes it to grow to gargantuan sizes. Act two, the government shows up and steals the thing concurrently with the parents, already struggling to pay their bills and buy truckloads of dog food at a time, gets laid off.

Act three: I don’t know. Something to do with the family getting a reality TV show, a take on the Gosselins meets the Balloon boy and his family, and the giant dog escapes the government holding facility in Dreamland/Area 51 where they’re keeping him after peeing on a captured alien spaceship there, which looks like a fire hydrant to him. Jesus, that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? But it’d work. They’ll probably cast somebody like Breckin Meyer as the patriarch and Elizabeth Banks (who’s in the remake of A Tale Of Two Sisters, by the way) as the matriarch, and get somebody like Cuba Gooding, Jr. as the evil Army General who… well, you get the gist, right?

Four: Tomorrow, in the UK, they’re airing the penultimate episode of Doctor Who featuring David Tenant as the Doctor, “The End Of Time, part 1.”

How sad is it that this excites me more than most other Christmas-y things, right? I imagine that somewhere in the vicinity of 3 PM to 5 PM my time, I’ll be online, scouring to find where somebody will have no doubt uploaded it. Then, on New Year’s day, there’s “The End Of Time, part 2,” and after that, well, after that is when that weird looking fucker Matt Smith takes over. Well, Matt Smith and the lovely Karen Gillan too:

Five: I’d much rather watch a movie based on Clifford The Big Red Dog rather than Walter the Farting Dog. That poor creature. The covers of those books just make me sad.

Tell me that dog doesn’t look like he’s in incredible pain. Just try.

Six: This picture is just for you, Peanut St. Cosmo:

Seven: Hmm. Shit. How much chocolate is too much chocolate for a dog to eat? Fuck.

Eight: This picture is just for you, August Bravo, since I know that you’re in love with Morrissey:

from here.

Something to do with him working with Stella McCartney on a line of shoes with no leather in them. Speaking of living my life just fine without slaughtering animals…

Nine: In the last few weeks, two travesties of decency have been committed upon me: The first being that Burger King canceled their “Angry” line of burgers, which was really just pepper jack cheese, jalapenos, and some kind of spicy sauce on their regular burgers. But their angry tendercrisp chicken sandwich was like hot flavorful sex in my mouth and now… now it’s gone…

The following week I went into a McDonald’s and was informed that they cancelled the McSkillet burrito. What the shit? I calmly asked the employee working there. She has no clue and just shrugged. Also, she did not speak English. So the following day, I went to another McDonald’s and discovered the same thing. The McSkillet was gone. Sigh. It felt like a part of myself was gone with it.

It may be remarkably easy to give up fast food for the New Year, should I be foolish enough to even verbalize a resolution this year.

Ten: Also… well, also there’s nothing else. Nothing that can’t wait. Well, except for this:

And this:

Have a lovely Christmas Eve, regardless of your religion, your race, your sex, your situation, or how ugly you probably are. I hope you’re someplace safe and warm doing naughty things with someone you love, or care about, or at least know the first name of. And to all a good night!

The end of Camelot.

Turn on the news! Turn on the news!

It’s amazing how a single bullet, a magic bullet if you will, can change the course of history. It can turn the kids into the adults and vice versa. As Trudy Campbell said, “I don’t care what your politics are, this is America, and you can’t just shoot the President!” If only that were true, Trudy. But adults can say a lot of things when they’re living their lives in front of the TV, either in the office, in the living room at home, or in the hotel room after your nooner, and last night’s episode of Mad Men, “The Grown-Ups” showed that better than anything. So let’s go back, and to the left, as we talk about the birth and death of marriages and the day that the 60s really began…

Everything is going to be fine.

August Bravo: Dia de los Mad Men! And the whole country’s drinking…

The Madness of Don Draper.

Marco Sparks: I loved the beginning of this episode, the first image there of Pete curled up on his office couch, squeezed tightly into a fetal position, waiting for a woman to bring him warm nourishment. Only that hot cocoa was instant, made with water instead of milk!

August: Watching last night’s episode really made me like Trudy. She’s certainly a trophy wife, yes, but she’s always by Pete’s side.

Marco: On this show, she’s the definition of “devotion.” I mean, she was this close to sleeping with an old paramour to help Pete get a short story published in… what was it? Highlights For Children? Fitting.

Rather disappointing news.

August: It’s probably women like her that made that decade what it was, for better and for worse. Am I envious of Pete here, just a little? I sure am.

Marco: I have to say it’s a joy to watch Alison Brie, who plays Trudy, on Community.

Alison Brie should be on every show.

August: And now we go back to Pete. We all knew he wouldn’t get that job, right? We all wanted him to not get that job. At least I didn’t want to.

Marco: Because you’re the vice president, treasurer, and refreshments organizer of Team Cosgrove, aren’t you?

August Bravo and Ken Cosgrove, sitting in a tree.

August: I think Ken really did deserve it. Maybe.

When you are a little kid, life just passes you by.

Marco: We really have no idea since we never actually saw him doing his job. He was mostly just showing up to ask him people to go get a drink with him or riding lawn mowers into the office.

I hate her, daddy.

August: He never really stressed about it. He was just Cool Hand Luke about it, like, all of the time.

Kinsey smells a booty call.

Marco: Poor Pete. People saw him working, so they assumed he was working. They saw Cosgrove chillaxing with that stupid grin and “that haircut,” they just assumed he had everything under control.

I wonder if this is the last time we’ll see Duck, abandoning his sexual conquest of Peggy temporarily (I love her roommate asking why she was with him if he’s not married) to call his kids.

Lets eat some monte cristo sandwiches and have mediocre sex, baby.

August: Time to get down to business…

Marco: And Jackie turned to Jack Jack and said, “Mr. President, You can’t say that Dallas doesn’t love you…”

ST-C420-13-63

August: We all knew it would happen this season…

Dallas.

Marco: Weiner said he wasn’t sure we’d see it this year, or how in depth it’d be covered, and yet, this was the defining moment of this season, and the moment so strongly hinted and foreshadowed this whole year, with Roger’s daughter’s wedding date and the constant references to Dallas.

In the motorcade moments before...

August: Yeah, we all knew it would happen. Maybe in next week’s episode, I think some of us were thinking, but we knew it was going to happen. Hell, it already did happen. Kennedy is dead.

In the shadow of a gunman.

Marco: I love the constant use of news footage, of the characters literally trapped in those moments, time brought to a standstill as they can hear the beats of their own fucked up, broken hearts. And especially poignant with the deaths of Ted Kennedy and Walter Cronkite in the past few months, too.

Walter Conkrite gives us the straight dope.

August: And Lee Harvey Oswald is dead too.

Oswald and Ruby are going to start a band and it shall be awesome, American History.

Marco: Who cares about justice when you can just hand the situation over to the mafia.

This was the year he rode the subway to the ends of the city.

August: I love the moment that everyone finds out about it, the way the phone calls are ringing off the hook throughout the entire building, going unanswered, and then, all of a sudden, they stop. Silence everywhere. It’s both what you’d least expect and exactly what you expect.

What the hell is going on!?

Marco: And in strolls Don Draper, just a few seconds late to a scene, as he seems to be in every scene in this episode, asking, “What the hell’s going on?”

Actually, the scene with Harry Crane and Pete is what I loved about the actual finding out of what happened in Texas. The TV’s on in the background, broadcasting a special bulletin and they’re whining about their jobs. Pete’s complaining like a sad little kid and Harry’s trying to sound like a mature adult. And then the hilariously ironic line: “I’m going to die at this desk unnoticed.”

August: Man, Roger is just so unhappy. His kid of a wife can’t control herself. And neither can Roger. Calling Joan while his wife number whatever is passed out drunk next to him. That takes guts. And I don’t think Roger even cares anymore.

Congrats on throwing you life away into perpetaul unhappiness, or what we like to call Livable Hatred Of Another Person.

Marco: What a long, strange journey it’s been since the party in “My Old Kentucky Home,” both of which were thrown by Roger, both of which involved Betty having an encounter of sorts with Henry Francis from the Governor’s office, and both ending with Jane passing out from “not eating enough” with her booze.

A good person.Did you notice that Jane constantly reiterates that she’s “a good person?”

Except now this is a world where a President has been killed and Roger can’t find the jokes in the face of this true, uncertain horror. At the end of last season it was the Cuban Missile Crisis and the end of the world. This is worst. This is what happens after. This is the real world and it’s time to be grown ups.

Please feel free to have the prime rib AND the filet of soul.

But, man, Joan is the saving grace of this show always. If next season involves the Brits having sold Sterling Cooper to Duck’s company, I can only hope they get Joan back. Also, I think it’s fair to point out that in Roger’s life, to take Pryce’s words as metaphor, Jane is Ken Cosgrove and Joan is Pete Campbell.

August: Oh?

Marco: Don’t start writing Roger/Pete slash fiction just yet. I just mean that Jane made Roger feel young, like he was invincible, and everything was easy and there was no work required to achieve his needs. And it’s because the women he wanted wanted someone else. But Roger would have to work to be worthy of Joan and he knows it. And it means he’d have to acknowledge that there’s something he desires so passionately in this world.

Phone sex.

We can only hope for good things when Dr. McRapist gets his legs blown off in ‘Nam, all Born On The Fourth Of July-style.

August: Man, this whole episode. No one cares about their own lives. Not unless they’re on the TV. In fact, for the first time the only person who does care is Don. Everyone’s focused on the President, or lack thereof, the wedding, their promotion/de facto demotion, a certain busty redhead, or a Governor’s aide. Everyone’s mind wanders. Their wants and needs. Everything just means nothing anymore.

Sal, you are missed.

Marco: The things you thought were important? Turns out they weren’t, not really.

August: Watching Betty kiss that guy made me die just a little inside. It really did.

Marco: I liked the little bits leading up to that. No, Don, while it may be good for the family, a family drive isn’t going to fix things. Not when they’re determined to be broken.

Parked in an ominous location.

But the actual shot of Betty’s car joining Henry’s in the middle of the nowhere? Interesting. Added with that music, it felt like a very Hitchcock-ian thing for a few moments there. That said, I don’t know that Betty would be all that great as one of Hitchcock’s famous icy blondes. Well, maybe.

I am not in love with the tragedy of this thing. This is not Romeo and Juliet.

August: I was watching that scene and I kept thinking, “Hey, asshole, that’s Don’s wife!” You can’t do that. And she can’t do that! But the lies are finally starting to get to her.

Marco: Sneaky of them last week to think that maybe she had been won over by Don taking the mask off to reveal the inner Dick Whitman hidden beneath. But now he can never put that mask back on.

I really can only see Henry Francis as a plot device rather than as a character. Mostly because that’s what he is, a shade of something, an element to draw out parts of Betty, to wake her up.  But do you think that, by this point in the story now, he and Betty have slept together? I mean, he’s proposing marriage to this not so happily married mother of three, so wouldn’t they have to have? Silly little religious aspects aside, how realistic  is entering a marriage/serious relationship with no time in the lab testing sexual chemistry?

August: Ah, I don’t know. Mostly, I don’t think she’ll leave Don. I don’t see it as realistic. I think this goes back to how they toy with our expectations and our grasp on the dramatic tension. We think she will, but she won’t.

And WTF was that faux proposal? Betty could not have taken it seriously. I really hope not. If you’re tired of being shackled by your husbands lies, then another man is not going to necessarily be the answer. I guess that was just the best available 1960s pick up line.

Forked path.

Marco: Also, had to love her response to him asking why the kids were being allowed to watch the Kennedy assassination coverage: “What am I supposed to do, Don? Am I supposed to keep it from them?” It took me a moment to really feel how subtle but powerful Betty’s weapons were in that scene.

But I think she wants to feel something other than helpless, or maybe just something in general. And that moment as she was watching Oswald get shot, it was almost like she herself had been shot. I think people complain about January Jones’ acting ability, like when her ex-boyfriend Ashton Kutcher advises her to give up the craft, but I think she’s perfect as Betty.

August: And then there’s Don, trying to be a better guy? A better husband? Maybe. I think Don’s trying to work it out in a way. And maybe that scares Betty a little? All the staying home, the taking care of baby Gene in the middle of the night, the trying to care.

Marco: If this is Don’s reaction to having to finally lay all his cards out on the table, Betty can only be wondering what he was really up to all those times he was supposed to be working.

August: Is Betty going to become the new Don Draper? After all, if Don Draper can be someone else, why can’t she?

Marco: Ooh, I’d watch that show. Part of me is starting to think that if these two were to actually grow up… well, it may not be together.

And I liked Sally’s continued role as watcher in this episode, first glued to the television as things that she may not yet understand in the country, but then taking the both boiling and freezing cold temperature in the kitchen and living rooms, the atmospheric changes between her parents.

August: “I kissed you yesterday and I didn’t feel a thing.” This has to be affecting someone other than just me. Hearing lines like that, which I have before, just makes one cringe. It cuts into the heart of you. And Don. Just sitting there. In confinement. In the dark. What does he do? What can he do? His own wife doesn’t love him and the words don’t come to him so that he can fix it.

Derby Day, bitches.

Marco: Again, I think for everyone who’s complained that this season has gone by slowly and just dragged, I would point out A) how much character developments/moments we witnessed within this episode, and not just with a few characters, but spread across the spectrum of the cast. Everyone shined. And B) again, I would use this as a yardstick compared to “My Old Kentucky Home.” Everyone’s changed. Everything’s different now.

August: And there goes Trudy again. Was that a motivational speech? Trying to get him up and go? Who does that? Only trophy wives. Only Trudy.

No dancing tonight.

Marco: Trudy is a trophy prize that Pete has never quite earned. But again, look at the differences and the things that are the same about them from then til now. In “My Old Kentucky Home,” they were the power couple, working together, trying to impress their elders, putting on the dance and show. And now, they’re unified together on that couch, stronger together. The most telling moment is when Trudy, so beautiful in her blue dress, takes off her dancing shoes and sits back on the couch with her husband, the man stuck in the fetal position at the start  of the episode and who is now finally starting to sound like an adult.

August: And then there’s the refuge of an empty office. Except for Peggy, the woman hard at work.

Marco: Perhaps because Don and Peggy are essentially the same? And I think they both realize that that Aqua Net ad is just fucked now in the face of Kennedy’s death.

August: I thought this episode would be a lot more. I mean, it was everything it was supposed to be. And so much more. I just envisioned something entirely different.

What?

Marco: And maybe that’s why it was so good?

I want to scream at you... for ruining all of this.

August: Maybe. And seriously, they can’t give me a good preview for next week’s episode?

A new President and we will all be sad for a while.

Marco: Oh, that preview is genius. Just clips from over the course of this season. Mad Men is a show drifting up the river of history that’s already gone by and sometimes you can only look back at what you’ve already seen and done and just guess what’s next. What happens next could be anything. And whatever you think it is, it’ll be something else, but you’ve got to be prepared. Sitting in the dark while you wait for the dawn to come is just part of being a grown up.

Alone in the dark.

The innocent, seduced.

Its all sunshine up here.

More on last night’s episode of The Venture Bros. later, I imagine, but I’m still chuckling about last week’s involving the Batman/Superman analogue Captain Sunshine looking for a new teenage sidekick (to replace the one slayed by the Monarch) in the form of Hank Venture.

Bat innuendo?

The results were, predictably, hilarious and odd.

Comic books exposed!

Wertham would’ve probably loved it.

A good nights rest... together.

One of the things I always find fascinating about this show is that it rolls pretty hard with the nonstop pedophilia hints and jokes throughout the episode, both with Captain Sunshine (I love that his Justice League-type group was also the action news team, which is brilliant)  and Sgt. Hatred, but never really touches on the much darker thing going on: While in a slum, the Monarch killed a kid.

Doctors Venture and Mrs. The Monarch.

Personally I get tired of the Monarch and his crew easily (except for Dr. Mrs. the Monarch, of course), and found the most interesting and telling moment of his time on the show was way back when when he broke into the Venture compound – for the umpteenth time – and had sex with the robot with Dr. Venture’s face on it. I felt like it gave us a much more solid cause of his never ending hatred of the superscientist.

Say yes to Prog Rock.

As for superscience, as per last night’s episode, I knew the secret laid within the prog rock.

Brain... Head... there is a joke somewhere in this mess.

In other hot news, which I’m a few days late in joining the party on sharing, I’ve got bad news for you, August: They’re getting closer to ending Heroes. Well, actually, that’s great news, of course. It’s a rumor for now, but a nice one as NBC, suffering from a bad year in television, especially the troubles wrought by the ratings fiasco that has been Jay Leno at 10 PM, have asked the producers of Heroes to start “winding things down.” I guess not everything can be saved by lesbian make outs?

And it wasnt even sweeps yes. That smacks of desperation.

Of course, I don’t really want to believe that, not ever.

The cheerleader is saving the world her own way.

You can’t frame a phone call.

We don’t know about you, but every time we hear “and then” there’s another chance for the ladies at home to misunderstand. We get that a lot. But in the meantime, let’s talk about last night’s Mad Men, the appropriately titled “The Color Blue,” and then go drink and listen to jazz in our office, have a chat with the Greek night janitor and the maybe masturbate into our special box of secrets…

August Bravo: 40 years wouldn’t be a significant year if it weren’t the average lifespan for a man in this business.

Marco Sparks: I really liked that scene of just Bert Cooper and Roger Sterling together, talking about the good old days together. And the present, what there is of it. It’s fascinating to hear Roger constantly go on about guys he knows in “this business,” or things that have happened in “this business,” as if he really is an old pro. And he may be, but not to the extent of Cooper, and yet Roger really wants to be in that previous generation, to live in the ebb and flow of their rules, their ways.

August: Now we know what makes Don Draper smile. Its 5,000 dollars! And we know what doesn’t make him smile: Meeting his mistress’ brother. Tsk tsk. He doesn’t want to ruin this.

Marco: I’m fascinated by those few occasions that Don picks up a sense of right and front, something that seems to him fleetingly at times, but in this particular case, he wants to do right by his new inamorata, since she seems to be refreshingly bold and pure in his eyes, but at the same time, no one wants to hear the brother of the new chick you’re sleeping with bitching about their problems in the middle of the night on a long road trip, am I right?

August: Yeah.

Marco: Though I love his comment on Don: “He knows how to leave a room.”

Marco: What do you think of Miss Farrell now? She was a character of much speculation as this season started to pick up steam, but now we’re here. And we’re steamy, right?

August: What do I think of her? I’m in love. That’s what I think.

Marco: Word.

August: She wants Don. Everything about him. She barely knows him, but she’s crazy about what she knows. And I think she will go crazy if she doesn’t get him. Or get him more than she has him already. Her eyes make her look like she’s on the brink of insanity without her.

Marco: And Don Draper is attracted to two things in life:

1. Waking up in the morning next to a mistake.

2. Crazy women.

August: Apparently Pete isn’t the only guy mad at Peggy for having those constant ideas.

Marco: Peggy Olson, the ultimate feminist.

August: Women in the 60s had it hard, man. But maybe they put themselves in that position. They don’t care about your marriages, your jobs. They just want you. They set themselves up for disasters.

Marco: They court disaster in the best ways, then eat it up and spit it out. Like spontaneous ideas in a pitch session. I loved Don and Peggy and Kinsey’s moment of not so much bonding, but of understanding over the lost idea. Oh, the bits of angelic genius lost to us when we’re shitfaced and not terribly close to a pen and paper. Also, I think we found something that Kinsey is really good at: Being in awe of Peggy.

August: Kinsey, my man. Almost got caught doing the dirty in his own office. On himself. If that’s not classy, I don’t know what is.

Marco: I don’t mind sharing with the world that the shit that goes down after hours in the offices here at Counterforce would shock the pants off of you. But it does involve a lot of jazz, some self harm, forgetting to write down golden ideas, and Greek janitors.

August: Achilles! Born leader. Also born to give inspiration.

Marco: I think the sad thing is a lot of guys want to be Don Draper, but instead they’re probably, at best, Roger. At worst, Pete. It’s bad for the intellectuals to, cause you don’t realize that you’re actually a Kinsey.

August: London calling! Ha ha, did I catch that right? Sterling-Cooper is for sale?

Marco: They’re lean and profitable now, ready to go to the highest bidder.

August: Even though his wife is ready to get the fuck out of New York…

Marco: Reasonable.

August: …but I’m really going to miss Lane Pryce if he goes.

Marco: If he goes being the key part. I could see him staying behind, maybe sans wife. Also, I have a feeling that Bert Cooper isn’t long for this world. Maybe Don and Roger and Lane will be running the company next year. Hopefully with Joan back and a much happier, more out of the closet Sal along for the ride.

Which will be totally worth since I’d love to see that flashback episode to when Don and Roger met and Roger found Don working at a fur company and going to night school.

August: Betty and Don both think the phone call is for them.

Marco: “Jeez Louise!”

August: What kind of sham marriage is this?

Marco: Probably the same as most marriages during that time period. The difference is that Betty’s really getting hers too, which I love. It’s sad that Don not only doesn’t respect Betty’s intelligence to hide his running around better. And it’s a toss up between whether he doesn’t respect herself enough to not realize that he’s pushing her away (though not necessarily into the arms of another ma) or that he trusts her more than that.

August: We know Don loves her, but he clearly doesn’t respect her. And there she is, just longing for that phone call from the man in the Governor’s office.

Marco: And Don is fearing that the phone call is from Miss Farrell, who, to be fair, does seem a bit… obsessive, even if she does know that things between Don and her probably won’t end well. I’m not convinced that it wasn’t her calling the house.

August: Both of these women just want these men more than they’re wanted, I think.

Marco: I think that Henry Francis from the Governor’s office had a bit of a point last week, Betty did need to come to him. She is married and he shouldn’t be going after her. That doesn’t stop the guy from being a dick though.

August: Betty says he family doesn’t need to go to church every week. I love that. No repenting in the Draper household.

Marco: Repenting? Fuck the past. Put it out of your mind. It will shock you how much these things you don’t like never happened.

August: OMG. FML. Betty found Don’s secret stash.

Marco: His secret identity. Literally.

August: What’s he going to do?

Marco: Can’t wait to find out. But more importantly, what is she going to do? I think we’ve seen some mountains and valleys in the debate over Princess Betty this year, but really it’s all setting up that the ball is in her court now.

from here.

August: Yeah, really. For a second it looked like she was going to hesitate with that drawer…

Marco: …and she never would have found the key if it weren’t for baby Eugene’s crying leading it to being within her grasp on laundry day.

August: But then Betty just dove right in!

Marco: Good for her. The unexamined marriage is no marriage to be fantasizing about other people in.

August: There’s been so much character development this season with Betty. Finding out she is and what she dreams of. Cause she’s just been so pent up all this time. And now she’s going to lash out.

Marco: She is. She totally is, but I think it’s going to be more controlled this time. Don lying to her isn’t something new and she knows that. Granted, she doesn’t know what she knows yet. There’s some divorce papers and the deed to a house belonging to an Anna Draper. And pictures with her husband in the war and just a name: Dick Whitman.

August: The drama! What is Don going to do next! And what is he doing now? This entire season he’s been so full of surprises, I feel. Sure, he is every season. I mean, he’s always been the man of mystery.

Marco: Maybe especially to himself?

August: But this year he’s even more spontaneous, more reactionary. Everything he does now merits a WTF?

Marco: And that’s the best kind of leading man for a television show of such literary depth. But back to the new tension between Don and Betty over knowing Don’s “secret,” I was literally just gripping my chair watching Don make the phone call (that call, the mysterious call to the Draper residence, and the fact that Don’s phone service calls Miss Farrell’s home – who knew the phone could be such a perilous weapon in 1963?) to Betty, telling her what time to be ready for the Sterling Cooper birthday bash. Betty’s not feeling good and Don’s telling her he wants to show her off and… ah, the drama.

August: Seriously. And you can’t frame a phone call.