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Mira

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Member since: Thu Oct 21, 2004, 06:06 PM
Number of posts: 17,240

Journal Archives

You folks gave me the courage to enter a contest

I just found out about this contest yesterday, and today was the deadline. Without your kind encouragement about my photos in general I would never have considered entering.

It was fun to rummage through my files, but the one with the man and dog I took yesterday afternoon when I also took the photos of playing in the dirt

They let you enter 4 photos, and here they are.
I made the choices based on what they may like, but also what I like which is evidenced in the one of the ducks on water. It does not have a chance, and I had others, but I just groove with that one.

http://www.forsythcreekweek.com/photocontest.html

Sunday at Salem Lake


Salem Creek Conversation


Ducks on Rock Quarry Waters


Swamp on Reynolda Road

Got bored - and went to play in the dirt



Nice and fitting goodbye to Jay Leno

Many wonderful attributes and kudos.
Billy Crystal Garth Brooks Oprah Winfrey and more.
But the best thing was when Jay, in saying goodbye to us as he kept breaking down in tears, praised that he was able to work with UNIONIZED NBC.

He had a great section about politics through the last 22 years, surely we will see a clip of it tomorrow.
But I cannot help but think that his "unionized" comment gave us an idea in parting about his political leanings which he did not feel free to disclose while working his show.
Wishing Jay well!

Sochi Hotel Guests Complain About Topless Portraits of Putin in Rooms unveiled by Andy Borowitz

Sochi Hotel Guests Complain About Topless Portraits of Putin in Rooms
unveiled by Andy Borowitz




SOCHI (The Borowitz Report)—With the Olympics underway, hundreds of visitors to Sochi are complaining that they checked into expensive hotel rooms only to find them decorated with seminude portraits of Russian President Vladimir Putin.

The portraits, showing Mr. Putin shirtless and riding a variety of mammals, adorn the walls of virtually every hotel room constructed especially for the Olympics and were created at a cost of over two million dollars, Olympic officials said.
Tracy Klugian, who travelled from Ohio with his wife to attend the Sochi Games, said that he was appalled to find his hotel room dominated by a gigantic portrait of a shirtless Putin riding what appears to be a bear.
Said Mr. Klugian, “I did not travel thousands of miles just to be grossed out.”

For his part, President Putin has been dismissive of the complaints, today calling the hotel guests “babies who cry.”
“These people who are complaining about what is on their walls should be grateful,” he said. “At least they got one of the hotel rooms with walls.”


www.borowitzreport.com

Gates Spends Entire First Day Back in Office Trying to Install Windows 8.1 - Borowitz observes



REDMOND, WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Bill Gates’ first day at work in the newly created role of technology adviser got off to a rocky start yesterday as the Microsoft founder struggled for hours to install the Windows 8.1 upgrade.
The installation hit a snag early on, sources said, when Mr. Gates repeatedly received an error message informing him that his PC ran into a problem that it could not handle and needed to restart.
After failing to install the upgrade by lunchtime, Mr. Gates summoned the new Microsoft C.E.O. Satya Nadella, who attempted to help him with the installation, but with no success.
While the two men worked behind closed doors, one source described the situation as “tense.”
“Bill is usually a pretty calm guy, so it was weird to hear some of that language coming out of his mouth,” the source said.
A Microsoft spokesman said only that Mr. Gates’ first day in his new job had been “a learning experience” and that, for the immediate future, he would go back to running Windows 7.

www.borowitzreport.com

One line Satan forgot in his love note to Paul Ryan is:

I so look forward to working with you side by side throughout eternity.

Coke’s Wild Assertion That Other Languages Exist Stirs Controversy - reveals Andy Borowitz




ATLANTA (The Borowitz Report)—The Coca-Cola Company ignited a firestorm of controversy on Sunday with a Super Bowl ad that appeared to make the inflammatory claim that other languages besides English exist.
From coast to coast, viewers reacted with outrage and horror to what many were calling the most incendiary Super Bowl ad in history.
“I was enjoying the Super Bowl with my family, and suddenly, out of nowhere, comes this ad suggesting that there are other languages that aren’t English,” said Carol Foyler, a mother of three from Akron, Ohio. “I grabbed the remote and turned it off. My kids shouldn’t be exposed to garbage that’s just going to confuse them.”
The Alliance for Responsible Advertising, a conservative watchdog group that monitors advertising it considers offensive and unfit for family viewing, issued a statement demanding that Coke apologize for the controversial ad and promise never to air it again.
“Last night, Coke assaulted millions of Americans with its misguided and inappropriate view that other languages exist,” the statement said. “In the future, we strongly hope that Coke will keep its crazy theories to itself.”

www.borowitzreport.com

Philip Seymour Hoffman's Final Secret - Tom Junod, Esquire

Philip Seymour Hoffman's Final Secret
The cost of holding up a mirror to those who could barely stand to look at themselves
By Tom Junod on February 2, 2014







I had two contradictory but complementary responses to the news that Philip Seymour Hoffman had died of a drug overdose at the suddenly tender age of 46 — two responses, that is, beyond how terrible and damn, he was great.
The first was that there was no way Hoffman had died with a syringe still in his arm — no way that an actor who brought such finicky dignity to his portrayal of the most desperate characters had permitted himself to die so ruthlessly unmasked.
The second was that of course he had died in such a sordid manner — how else was Philip Seymour Hoffman supposed to die? There was no actor, in our time, who more ably suggested that each of us is the sum of our secrets…no actor who better let us know what he knew, which is that when each of us returns alone to our room, all bets are off. He used his approachability to play people who are unacceptable, especially to themselves; indeed, his whole career might be construed as a pre-emptive plea for forgiveness to those with the unfortunate job of cleaning up what he — and we — might leave behind. The only way that Philip Seymour Hoffman could have died in a manner more consistent with the characters he created would have been if he had died by auto-erotic asphyxiation.
And in the extermity of these two responses was, I think, the essence of Hoffman’s art.

He often played creeps, but he rarely played them creepily. His metier was human loneliness — the terrible uncinematic kind that has very little to do with high-noon heroism and everything to do with everyday empathy — and the necessary curse of human self-knowledge. He held up a mirror to those who could barely stand to look at themselves and invited us not only to take a peek but to see someone we recognized. He played frauds who knew they were frauds, schemers who knew they were schemers, closeted men who could only groan with frustrated love, heavy breathers dignified by impeccable manners, and angels who could withstand the worst that life could hand out because they seemed to know the worst was just the beginning. And what united all his roles was the stoic calm he brought to them, the stately concentration that assured us that no matter whom Philip Seymour Hoffman played, Philip Seymour Hoffman himself was protected.

That’s what I thought, anyway — in reading the early reports of his death, I was surprised that he’d battled the demon of addiction, because I’d always confused Hoffman’s mastery with detachment, and assumed that he had lived by Flaubert’s charge to live an orderly life so that he could be violent and original in his work. But I shouldn’t have been surprised, and — here’s that contradictory and complementary response again — I wasn’t. I’d never met Philip Seymour Hoffman, never knew anyone who knew him, never even read a passably revealing magazine profile of him. All I really knew was that he was a character actor who came as close to being a movie star as character actors ever get, and that he played the lead in more Hollywood movies than any other portly, freckly, gingery man in human history. And that, in its way, is all I, or anyone else, needs to know.
We live in the golden age of character actors — in an age when actors who have done their time in character roles are frequently asked to carry dark movies and complicated television dramas. The line between character actors and movie stars is being erased — in art, anyway, if not in life. In life, it’s different, because the “movie star” remains not just the product of looks and charm, but also a kind of social construct, with very distinct social obligations. Character actors like Philip Seymour Hoffman and James Gandolfini have found themselves getting more and more leading roles because they are permitted to behave onscreen in ways that George Clooney and Matt Damon never could. But the same permission extends offscreen, and that’s where we see the cost; indeed, we pay to look at men who look like us only when they convince us that that they live in psychic spaces that we could never endure…unless, of course, we happen to be enduring them.

Would Matt Damon ever be found dead, with a syringe still hanging from his arm? Would George Clooney essentially eat himself to death? No, for the simple fact they both have way too much to lose. But neither would they permit themselves to be weepily jerked off by Amy Adams, as Philip Seymour Hoffman was, in The Master, or to crawl as far into his own dead eyes as James Gandolfini regularly did in The Sopranos. The great character actors are now the actors whose work has the element of ritual sacrifice once claimed by the DeNiros of the world, as well as the element of danger— the actors who thrill us by going for broke. It should be no surprise when, occasionally, they break, or turn out to be broken. RIP.

http://www.esquire.com/blogs/culture/hoffman-junod?src=soc_twtr

Troubled Man Seen Outside Super Bowl - spotted by Andy Borowitz



EAST RUTHERFORD, NJ (The Borowitz Report)—A “visibly troubled” man was spotted today outside MetLife Stadium just hours before the kickoff of Super Bowl XLVIII.

The man, his eyes darting about menacingly, alarmed passersby who were gathering at the Super Bowl venue.
Harland Dorrinson, who was participating in a pregame tailgating party, said he overheard the belligerent man making several “threatening remarks.”
“He said something like, ‘If I go down, I’m taking a lot of people with me,’” Mr. Dorrinson said. “He also said that someone was out to get him, but he was going to get him first.”
“He was ranting about how terrible this person was, saying, ‘Everything our high-school social studies teacher said was true,’” Mr. Dorrinson added. “It was the ravings of a madman.”

Calling the man “really scary and dangerous,” Mr. Dorrinson said he hoped that authorities would take the troubled individual into custody before the big game begins.
“He’s clearly angry and out of control,” he said. “A guy like that shouldn’t be in a position where he can do other people harm.”



www.borowitzreport.com

Darrell Issa be damned! He could not do it. (Bill Maher show tonight)

Issa tried to be funny, hog time and attention - but this time he could not do it. He was outclassed and way less smart than the rest of the panel.
It was a joy to behold - the MadMan lookalike was hopelessly floundering.

Ronan Ferrell: excellent. Informed. Concise. Knew how to get the floor.
The Canadian woman is brilliant, and also knows how to get the floor.

Bill was not to be overrun in the least and was mildly putting down Issa all the time like a slow running but reliable train.

The British guy - Merchant - brought in his 9 and a half foot (I'm guessing) frame. His shoulders were the same level as the top of Maher's head, he criticized our gun laws, our lack of addressing global warning (why can't we pretend it's real and do something about it, even if we don't believe in it - at least that way we aren't fucked in the end.......something like it, anyway). He was a great addition.

But the best guest, brilliant and ever so impressive in his views and discourse was the writer of the film "12 years a slave". I've read the book months ago, and realize he had a good honest story to work with told by the man it happened to. He took it, written in 1852 and made it phenomenal as a film today. And he brought to us the realization that slavery is not over, is still happening, even here.

I'm excited about this fine show today, and am typing without correction just to get you to watch the repeat.
I was worried about Issa. And it was not necessary this time. He is losing steam, his failed attempts at grabbing attention with dumb humor prove it.

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