You know what? You're not going to get a half-baked excuse for my paucity of posts the last few weeks. The strains of raising a child-baby, while a common excuse, would be a lie, although his knack for disrupting the hours of 7-9pm is uncanny, and my absorption in Mr. Fisk's opus
would be partly true. But mostly I just haven't had the urge.
But I really did have to advert your attention to the monumentally childish themes at work in Roland Emmerich's Knightsbridge interior decoration job
. "Knightsbridge interior decoration job" is one of those cast-iron guarantees of bad taste, kind of like "Chuck Norris cake"
But consider the competition. It's like Emmerich took the bar set by Mohammed Al Fayed's Dodi N' Di memorial
, and then beat a reeling sense of good taste to death with it. Lots of whimsical, one-note riffs on world affairs. Presumably if some of the details get circulated to in the right (wing) circles it might lead to another fatuous boycott
. This time of some really bad films.
The best bit, though, is that one of the bedrooms includes, by the bedside a picture of what appears to be a shirtless Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
(I'm linking to his blog, though it hasn't been updated in eight months and he is even less sorry for the lack of updates than I could ever be). I tried to blow the picture up, but it got helplessly pixelated. Now, since the image is not definitive this might make me guilty of the same cross-eyed Arab-baiting as the thoughtlessly umbrage-spouting Ms. Malkin, but I like to think it's a hastily-overlooked example of Emmerich's decorator's quest for the needlessly provocative.
Off on vacation soon, but first, weighty tax planning, and a meeting with (other) bloggers, something I promised myself I would never do. Old, you see.
Oh, crap, nearly forgot. Go and read Will Self's account
of a trip along the East Riding's coast. It's really good. Sounds like Yorkshire people really are a little more charming than Lincolnshire people, though I've always denied it.