Sean Penn wants me dead. Well, me and anyone else, I guess, who has the temerity to criticize his charitable efforts. We may have the spleen or spine or nerve to criticize him, but he's thinking about an entirely different body part.

Penn says he ignores the negative chatter. "I guess I’ve been so away from it all–-and our tent camp in Haiti--that I haven’t had an awful lot of time to pay attention to them," he says. "You know, do I hope that those people die screaming of rectal cancer? Yeah. You know, but I’m not going to spend a lot of energy on it."

I kind of love that last part. Yeah, I want them to be eviscerated and then tossed into a giant vat of rice pudding, but whatever. Nothing too complicated.

And also, to be fair (mostly to me!), I have no idea what he's doing in Haiti. But I know what he did in New Orleans. Remember when he got there?

[Larry] King: How soon after?

Penn: I got there on day four.

Matt Taibbi wrote in Rolling Stone, "It's a little before midnight on Friday, September 2nd, and I'm sitting in a hotel bar in Houston...Now he and Penn are talking about commandeering private jets, helicopters and weapons for a grand mission into hell that begins tomorrow."

Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans on 29 August. Day 4 would have been the first of September. So the idea of Penn's plan didn't even germinate until 2 September, the early hours of day 5. For you longtime readers, here's a reminder of where I was when he was thinking about going to New Orleans: "...I didn't really sleep again until 2 September, when I got to my room in Philadelphia."

By the way, why did they want to go to New Orleans? The "he" in the earlier quote from Taibbi is Douglas Brinkley, who left his cats and housekeeper in New Orleans when he evacuated. So, Taibbi writes, "...here we are, a bunch of half-drunk, affluent white people quaffing eleven-dollar foreign beers and planning what appears to be a paramilitary mission to rescue two cats and a maid in the wreckage of New Orleans."

The Penn party actually didn't get into New Orleans until after midnight on the 3rd ("When we got into New Orleans, it was already midnight the first night we got in..."). He was out and humanitarianing in New Orleans only on the 4th. So he didn't do anything in New Orleans until DAY SEVEN, went there originally on a personal mission, wore a bulletproof vest (unlike everyone else in his boat), and struggled to get through those raging eight inch floodwaters that whole day he was there. I didn't even mention the shotgun he carried or having to bail out the boat with a Solo cup. So, it's possible that he doesn't want me dead at all. He does have a problem with accuracy, after all. Maybe he just wants us all to have uncomfortable beds or to be slightly dyspeptic. Who knows?

And for the record, I don't have anything against anyone helping people, although I do think that in cases like this, it's far better to direct money and resources to people with the experience and expertise to do real good, rather than just charter a plane and bail out somewhere over Port-au-Prince. Or Baton Rouge. But I don't think saying so is going to make any difference to Sean Penn, so shine on, you crazy diamond. Can someone get him Andy Dufresne's rock hammer? He's got some tunneling to do.
--I am going to Dubai! !!! I can't say why I'm going, but I can say that I'm staying at the Burj Al Arab, the hotel that looks like a big sail. When I'm not watching the goldplated television or lounging on my totally understated bed:



I am going to be riding camels and touring the museums and shopping and skiing indoors at the Mall of the Emirates and--oh hello there, Perfume Souk. Ouds and attars, I'll see you shortly.

--I don't understand you, Jezebel, part 2349: I don't get why the general reaction to Lil Wayne and co.'s song "Every Girl," whose chorus is "I wish I could [have relations of an intimate nature with] every girl in the world" is pearls-clutching, while the general reaction to the Millionaires, whose lyrics include:

Look at that fat slut over there
Her dress is so tight, it's making me stare
She's lickin' on that lollipop with her tongue
So lets just shoot her
With our guns!

is "It's fun!" Yeah, I'm pretty sure neither musical group is that serious about their respective messages and taste is subjective, but still.

--Speaking of things from New Orleans that I love feverishly, the spread of this Brad Pitt For Mayor thing continues to amuse me. I saw Storyville on Headline News this morning!

--And speaking of making it right, if you find yourself in Birmingham and are hungry or want something to do, why not visit the Bottletree? They are lovely people and they put on great shows and have yummy food and oh yeah, they were just totally hosed by City Stages. And for an idea of just how big of a mess City Stages was, see Dennis Pillion for a great postmortem. Finally, here's some excellent advice for putting on a successful festival in Birmingham.
wolfpangs: (fairy)
The cover of Time magazine.



This is actually from last year, so I updated it for them. Gustav evacuees are coming to town and it's starting to feel a lot like three years ago.

Everything sacred been strung up and shot... )
I'm not going to say anything about Britney's performance, as it has surely all been said by now. But I was watching the infamous Brit-Madonna-Xtina performance the other night and I just had to LOL at sourface Avril Lavigne in the audience.

She's quite the humanitarian, ain't she? Now I've read lots of things about Hurricane Katrina, many of which were stupid or offensive or heartless but nothing quite as full of lulz as Mme Lavigne's recent (and quickly becoming infamous) "Ten Commandments" interview. Let's share:

"I am a very giving person. When the hurricane thing happened, I went to my closet, filled six boxes of stuff and said to my assistant, 'Take it to Katrina!'

My first thought: Who is Katrina? My second thought: Oh, that's fantastic. Because that's what hurricane victims need: boxes of tank tops and neckties.

Compare and contrast that with what Karl Malone did. Oh, you don't know? Maybe that's because he didn't issue a press release or get all up in your face about it. I'll let brendan at wwtdd.com drop this science:

Just as a reminder, NBA Hall of Famer Karl Malone moved 18 pieces of heavy machinery, including three bulldozers and a backhoe, into areas destroyed by Katrina, then personally spent 12 hours a day behind the wheel of a dozer, eventually clearing 114 lots for homeowners whose houses were buried under trees and debris. Avril filled six boxes with torn fishnets and blue mascara, then gave someone else vague instructions. Malone said almost nothing about it at the time. Avril still brings it up three years later, seemingly the only kind act she can think of. Karl also executed the pick-and-roll with seamless perfection during his playing days in Utah, while Avril just stood there like a fuckin stick while the ball bounced off her dopey face.

Advantage: Karl Malone.

"Take it to Katrina." Jeezum Crow.
wolfpangs: (bammer)
Here are a few screencaps from When the Levees Broke that I've been meaning to post--just a few images that I found particularly moving, presented with no editorializing. (Note: Images are somewhat large.)

I dream about magnolias in bloom )
So jobhunting blows, as per usual. It's not that I'm surprised, though. It's amazing, though, how many employers say they'll contact you and then don't. I don't know if it's akin to the dating "I'll call you", if it's a misguided attempt for the prospective employee to show initiative or my personal suspicion, indicative of a greater problem. You see, when employers tell me they'll call me and then they don't, I immediately suspect that this lack of attention to detail is only the beginning and "Oops, I forgot to return your call" will turn into "Oops, we won't have paychecks until after 2pm" or "Oops, I forgot to not break the law."

If I don't get a spa job like I want, I won't be too miffed. I noticed today that my old hotel job here is hiring for the position I used to fill. Um, I can do that!

In better news, I was unsure where I was in my Netflix queue--I have a yooge list of TV series at the top, although I occasionally move movies and whatnot to the top*--because I'd just finished a series. So imagine my surprise when Degrassi: TNG showed up at my door. Canadian teen melodrama? Oh, hells yes! I watched every version of Degrassi until TNG, because the haters at my cable company also do not supply Noggin/The N.

[livejournal.com profile] rockgeisha watches Degrassi: A play in one act:

Emma, quoting her Treeemail: "You saved my heart and my prohject.
Salome: "Prohject"! Canadian accents, LOL!
Salome's head: *explodes in delight*

Dear Canadia,

Hey.

Love,

Salome

I need that kind of joy because I am attempting for the first time to watch When the Levees Broke. That, combined with thinking about working for the old hotel again, has me thinking of the weeks I spent with evacuees.

When the levees broke: Very depressing and I'll probably get embarrassed and delete it later )

It was a beautiful day.
Come and see... )

If you're in need of more warm fuzzy feelings, may I recommend the San Diego Zoo's Panda Cam?

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