I didn't intend to watch last night's masked ball, but our neighbors were serving a great Italian dinner, so I dutifully sat there and watched almost all of the Oscars last night. Actually I thought the NBA All-Star game was better. I guess you could say this was the year of the French. Why not since they are now the leaders of the free world as evidenced by Libya? Just a few comments because I have a couple of more important stories percolating.
The pre-show was, as always, sickening. Who cares what some self-absorbed actress is wearing?
"What are you wearing, darling?"
"My dress is by Fifi Lo'rant and my jewelry is from Astair's."
"What are you wearing, Hillary?"
Did you see Nick Nolte last night? He reminded me of Humphrey Bogart in the closing scenes of Treasure of Sierra Madre. That famous booking photo looks good in comparison.
And how about Angelina Jolie, "Skinny legs and all"? I think she borrowed her lipstick from Gloria Allred.
It's over. Put that leg back under your dress.
And how about that stirring speech given by the head chingon of the Academy-you know, the one they give every year. I think it's the same script. Didn't it just get you right here?
But let's give credit where credit is due. Last night was for the glory of eternal France.
Hey! Let's sing the Marseillaise!"
Arise children of the fatherland
The day of glory has arrived
Against us tyranny's
Bloody standard is raised
Listen to the sound in the fields
The howling of these fearsome soldiers
They are coming into our midst
To cut the throats of your sons and consorts
The day of glory has arrived
Against us tyranny's
Bloody standard is raised
Listen to the sound in the fields
The howling of these fearsome soldiers
They are coming into our midst
To cut the throats of your sons and consorts
To arms citizens Form your battalions
March, march
Let impure blood
Water our furrows
March, march
Let impure blood
Water our furrows
What do they want this horde of slaves
Of traitors and conspiratorial kings?
For whom these vile chains
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What methods must be taken?
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!
Of traitors and conspiratorial kings?
For whom these vile chains
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What methods must be taken?
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!
What! These foreign cohorts!
They would make laws in our courts!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would cut down our warrior sons
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brow would yield under the yoke
The vile despots would have themselves be
The masters of destiny
They would make laws in our courts!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would cut down our warrior sons
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brow would yield under the yoke
The vile despots would have themselves be
The masters of destiny
Tremble, tyrants and traitors
The shame of all good men
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will receive their just reward
Against you we are all soldiers
If they fall, our young heros
France will bear new ones
Ready to join the fight against you
The shame of all good men
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will receive their just reward
Against you we are all soldiers
If they fall, our young heros
France will bear new ones
Ready to join the fight against you
Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors
Bear or hold back your blows
Spare these sad victims
That they regret taking up arms against us
But not these bloody despots
These accomplices of Bouillé
All these tigers who pitilessly
Ripped out their mothers' wombs
Bear or hold back your blows
Spare these sad victims
That they regret taking up arms against us
But not these bloody despots
These accomplices of Bouillé
All these tigers who pitilessly
Ripped out their mothers' wombs
We too shall enlist
When our elders' time has come
To add to the list of deeds
Inscribed upon their tombs
We are much less jealous of surviving them
Than of sharing their coffins
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or joining them
When our elders' time has come
To add to the list of deeds
Inscribed upon their tombs
We are much less jealous of surviving them
Than of sharing their coffins
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or joining them
Drive on sacred patriotism
Support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished liberty
Join the struggle with your defenders
Under our flags, let victory
Hurry to your manly tone
So that in death your enemies
See your triumph and our glory!
What are you wearing?
Support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished liberty
Join the struggle with your defenders
Under our flags, let victory
Hurry to your manly tone
So that in death your enemies
See your triumph and our glory!
What are you wearing?
5 comments:
Your taste in television extravaganzas is impeccable.
That tent Jolie is wearing sure makes her look fat! The imagination is led by the countours of the cloth to speculate on mountain of semi-solid lipids that may be concealed therein.
@ Siarlys
OK Siarlys, are you going to be a guess on "Fashion Police"? Joan Rivers would call you a fashion maven.
Its all fun!
Squid
Me and Gary vs. Squid.
Life sure is funny.
I would like to say something once in a while, not on this subject, but to decipher the words to sign in takes me forever, so I won't comment anymore but I'll read whenever possible.
This is my second try.
Ditto to Ingrid. Gary, not to complain, I thought maybe it was just my eyes getting old like the rest of me, but Ingrid cannot possibly as old as I am. Seems that sometimes, like right now, the words are quite legible. At other times, they are squiggly and run together (I guess as they are supposed to be) and, as Ingrid observes, difficult if not impossible to decipher.
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