Enchanting Juno

This man writes his ass off.

Jon Carroll, San Francisco Gate.  Every week, couple or 5 times, week in, week out.  Always good.  Frequently great.

One of his colums - an obituary for John Gregory Dunne - moved me so much I wrote him to say that I wished he'd write my obituary. 

Not that I'm planning on needing one soon, of course, but to be memorialized like that would be no small thing.

I just read it again.  It is still that good, that unsentimentally, authentically good.

In a recent column he talks about the role that missionaries play in keeping our American world aware of tragedy and atrocity out of the US's direct line of site.  His idea - that the missionary community's unique awareness of, and involvement in, the Third World, is behind our president's slow awakening to the need to make more than a token effort at offering assitance - is new to me, and very, very interesting.

Check it out.  Reading his column is never a waste of time.  And he always ends with a bit of something, a quotation or fragment or spray of words that makes his point all over again.  One of them is up there in my 'quotation of the moment' spot right now.

Now if he'd only get an RSS feed.

Where for art thou, Aaron Sorkin?

I'll admit that it is stretching things a bit to file West Wing under "the arts". At least these days.
And I have some other stuff for you, but I need pictures to make it all come together, so it has to wait for tonight

I miss this show so much. It used to be so good. I had people over nearly every Wednesday, we had snacks and watched the show and loved the show and it was good.

It is not good any more.

The only episode that I saw last season that didn't blow was the Supreme Court one. My Wednesday night group eroded away to just my knitting buddy H, and we don't watch TV anymore - we knit and chat. I tried to watch the season finale, just out of some compulsive hope that it might be ok. But then they blew up Admiral Fitzwallace - made him the Sacrifical Negro beloved of American film and TV. I just hate it when entertainment people create an heroic character, black or otherwise, just to give them someone useful to kill off to create the dramatic story arc they are too lazy and corrupt to take the trouble to write properly. And when that character is also a minority it just feels kind of like a sleazy shortcut and veiled racism.

So now when I see episodes for last season on Bravo I get all upset and within 10 minutes I'm throwing things at the TV.
John Wells is not a force for good in television - he's a sensation seeking hack and ratings whore. I will stop short of wishing him actual ill in his life, since this is, after all, only television, but I wouldn't grieve if he lost his job or moved on to ruin some other show.

But I can't stop checking Television Without Pity for the summaries. I like the verification that the show's new shittiness is not in my imagination, but deep in my heart of hearts I'm hoping the recapper will say - the writing is improving, the very talented cast is being given decent material again. They've stopped grooming everyone like they're going on the Tonight Show in two minutes and the plots are starting to show internal consistency, respect for the premise of the show, the gravity of the political process and some memory of what has already happened to the characters and the fictional America of the West Wing universe. And they're giving Dule Hill lines again.

(How, how, how can they waste him?)

It's a pitiful little fantasy.

Swoon.

This morning Slate features a profile of a Metropolitan Museum exhibit of 18th century fashion and decorative arts set up as Tableaux of seduction. Through September 6.

Also, how sad is it that Juno had to create a category for the arts? Book, current affairs, film, religion, all there, no arts.