Sunday Bloody NYT Sunday: Special Everyone Just Pipe Down Edition
Happy Super Sportsball Sunday! Go read the Times’s one million pages of regular sports coverage AND thinkpieces about the Super Bowl! Or don’t. Go read about Chris Christie! Or just read what we wrote about Christie already. Definitely read the Dylan Farrow letter from yesterday and then promptly go fight with everyone on the internet about it.
Look, we are not going to fight with everyone on the internet about it, which is weird, because we generally like that sort of thing! But on the real, there is nothing to say about this except that it is ineffably sad that all this has to play out in the public eye and that one million people now have to claim Dylan Farrow as their own and “congratulate” her on coming forward and one million other people have to write dudebro thinky things about how it is probably not true because Woody Allen once made Annie Hall and really shut the fuck up everyone and stop making some family’s tragedy your very favorite new thing to fight about on the internet. That is all.
Onwards and upwards to the rest of our beloved Sunday NYT. If you’re skipping sports and Chris Christie and Dylan Farrow, you could start out with the Times’s odd little piece on how Bill de Blasio is tall. He’s not quite pro basketball tall, standing 6’5 7/8 (yes, the Times was very careful to get the 7/8 part in there). Can you imagine being the poor Times staffer stuck with writing 1200+ words on de Blasio’s height and how much shit you would have to string together just to make a story out of it? He has a big podium! He has to ride in the front seat of a car, lest his legs permanently pretzel from cramming into the back. He hunches. He needs longer neckties than short people. It is hard for him to hug people a foot shorter than him without it being awkward or them feeling like he is about to murder them with his enormous size. This may all be fascinating to you if you have somehow made it to this point in your life without ever encountering a tall person, but it seems unlikely this would be the case. Let’s go read entertainment news because that will seem like a thing of remarkable substance and heft compared to “Bill de Blasio is tall.”
There’s a new documentary out about the incomparable, nearly unstoppable Elaine Stritch, Elaine Stritch: Just Shoot Me, and the Times has a lovely interview with her. She left New York and moved to Birmingham, Michigan, where she notes that she has taken up drinking again, because Birmingham, Michigan.
You were completely sober for more than 20 years, but you’ve since allowed yourself to drink again.
I’m almost 89. I’m gonna have a drink a day or two. I know how to handle it, so there. I’m proud of the fact that I can handle a couple of drinks.
That’s not at all dangerous?
No. I’m not going to have three drinks, I’m not going to have four. I’m going to have two, and that’s it, folks. I just want to enjoy life and relax a little bit and go out with the rich ladies in Birmingham and enjoy them. And you can’t enjoy them sober.
Also, too, she went on what sounds adorably almost like a date with JFK.
Do you think Kennedy took a shine to you?
I went with him to a little French restaurant on the Upper East Side, and I went out with the whole Kennedy family to the 21 Club Bobby and Ethel and Scooby-Doo, all of them. Jack Kennedy and I had martinis, which is ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. We kissed good night and that was it, folks.
Today’s Times’ also has an obituary for the preternaturally attractive Maximilian Schell, who died yesterday at 83. If you skip sportsball today, you could do a lot worse than watching his Oscar-winning turn in Judgment at Nuremberg, which you can stream over at Vudu. If you’re going to insist upon thinking about sportsball, you can think about whether you will watch or boycott the Olympics, thanks to the whole “there are no gay people here in Sochi but if they are they are probably molesting children” thing that this year’s Olympics site has going on. Or you could read about the unfortunate couple that has chosen to have their wedding during the Super Bowl and haha now everyone hates them and just wants to watch teevee.
Ms. Cook, who now lives in Renton, Wash., said that many of her guests were initially shocked, but she has decided to embrace the moment rather than let it ruin her night. For starters, she will accommodate her guests by installing a 60-inch television screen at her reception. (Her parents will lug the television into the reception hall and temporarily install it using an old-school rabbit-ear antenna.)
Speaking of hate, some anonymous person bought a $50 million penthouse in downtown New York, the most expensive ever sold downtown. we don’t even know how to make fun of this because it is such an improbably large number that we cannot even get our brains around it.
Sadly, the social etiquette questions are again by and large sensible questions this week, which is killing us dead because that thing was such a reliable fount of mockery. The only exception is the poor person whose boss wants them to watch his child while he goes to the gym.
My boss is recently divorced and shares custody of his son with his ex-wife. Yesterday, he asked if I would be willing to pick up the boy from his after-school program on the days the child is with him and watch him for a couple of hours so he can go to the gym. I would rather die. But I’m curious about whether my boss intended to pay me for this work. He didn’t mention money. May I ask?
Social etiquette dude wisely points out that it is a bad idea to haggle with your boss over a service you have no intention whatsoever of providing. We agree, but would also have added a “what the fuck, boss?” to our answer.
Over on this week’s opinion pages, Ross Douthat is sweet jesus thank the lord above NOT writing about sex or liberal sex or homosexxican sex or any sort of sex. Instead he’s yammering on about how the Republicans have some good ideas about immigration and amnesty but not enough good ideas and just stone cold ignoring the fact that plenty of the GOP likes to throw red meat at a slavering base that is 100% behind hating immigrants and calling them illegals who take their jobs. In Ross Douthat fantasy-land, if the GOP just listens to Ross Douthat, they will be rational actors who stick to their core principles yet win big big big. What color is the sky in Ross Douthat’s world?
At the beginning of the week, Rand Paul had a complicated explanation of how you can’t vote for Hillary because you’ll never stop thinking about Bill Clinton’s penis if you do, and that is probably super true for Maureen Dowd, because if there is one person who never ever stops thinking of the Big Dog’s dong, it is she. We can’t even cut and paste all the feels about presidential penis that this woman has, because oh lord she does go on, but this part is too good to pass up.
It is not so simple to cast Hillary as a victim; she was also part of the damage-control team to vouch for her husband and undermine his mistress. White House aides and other Democrats spread the word that Monica was a troubled young woman with stalker tendencies. Sidney Blumenthal, a senior White House adviser, later testified that Hillary told him that “she was distressed that the president was being attacked, in her view, for political motives, for his ministry of a troubled person.”
We also too often minister to troubled people with our genitals, but that has resulted in an unseemly arrest record and general unemployability rather than getting to be beloved leader of the free world. UNFAIR.
Now that you’ve thought about Bill Clinton’s wang for far too long on a Sunday afternoon, Little Tommy Friedman would like to beat you to death with a complicated metaphor about Israel. Lucky you!
One of the most popular shows on Israeli TV is called “Eretz Nehederet” or “A Wonderful Country.” It’s a comedy show that lives to make fun of Israeli politicians and the absurdities of life here. It recently opened its 2014 season with a cartoon graphic of a beautiful, multicolored, flower-filled garden with a butterfly fluttering across the screen. Then, suddenly, a concrete wall rises up all around the garden, which was an image the producers used last year. But this season not only does the wall emerge but a glass dome rises out of the wall and seals off this Garden of Eden from above as well.
This scene is noteworthy for a couple of reasons: I’ve long believed that the Israeli-Arab conflict is to the wider global war of civilizations what Off Broadway is to Broadway.
And then we did not read any more because we broke our laptop slamming it shut after that sentence and are now blogging from our phones so we have to stop now. Sorry not sorry.