This is why I fell for Bernie Sanders back in late ’15, and proof that he’s one tough hombre as well as a good and decent human being.

The Hill‘s Mike Lillis, posted at 8:45 am: In a brief but heated exchange, Rep. Ted Yoho (FLA) told Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (NYC) that she was “disgusting” for recently suggesting that poverty and unemployment are driving a spike in crime in New York City during the coronavirus pandemic.

“You are out of your freaking mind,” Yoho told her. Ocasio-Cortez shot back, telling Yoho he was being “rude.” The two then parted ways. Ocasio-Cortez headed into the building, while Yoho, joined by Rep. Roger Williams (R-Texas), began descending toward the House office buildings. A few steps down, Yoho offered a parting thought to no one in particular. “Fucking bitch,” he said.

The other day I was sharing a regret with a friend about Twitter’s general lack of interest in basic English grammar, or disdain for it even. The submental abbreviations (“ur” instead of “your“…stupid shit like that) have a way of migrating into everyday writing and speech even. Languages have always been movable feasts, of course. Constantly evolving, adapting, augmenting. But I draw the line at “ur.”

All most writers understand that disciplined, well-honed grammar is a beautiful thing. Diligent and respectful submission to (or the artful manipulation of) the English language (or whatever your native tongue may be) is a matter of character, pride and creativity. On the other hand you don’t want to sound like you never paid attention in school.

Over the last few years there’s been a college campus movement to resist this viewpoint and generally go easy on correct English grammar. The idea has been to allow students of whatever ethnic background to write and speak according to their native cultures and infliuences (Ebonics, slang, street grammar) rather than conform to grammatical white-man standards. The idea is that grading and good grammar are tools of white supremacy.

Consider a possibly accurate College Fix article, dated 7.20.20 and written by Alex Frank of Texas Christian University, titled “Rutgers English Department to deemphasize traditional grammar ‘in solidarity with Black Lives Matter’“.

According to Frank, this initiative was spelled out by Rebecca Walkowitz, the English Department chair at Rutgers University, and sent to faculty, staff and students in an email. A copy was allegedly sent to Frank.

This morning I sent a copy of Frank’s article to Walkowitz and asked if it was accurate or not. I’m currently giving Frank the benefit of the doubt. If Walkowitz writes back and says his reporting is biased or inaccurate I’ll fix this post accordingly.

[7.24 update: Walkowitz never responded.]

Titled “Department actions in solidarity with Black Lives Matter,” Walkowitz’s email allegedly states that “the ongoing and future initiatives that the English Department has planned are a ‘way to contribute to the eradication of systemic inequities facing black, indigenous, and people of color.’

“One of the initiatives is described as ‘incorporating ‘critical grammar’ into our pedagogy.

The email allegedly states that “this approach challenges the familiar dogma that writing instruction should limit emphasis on grammar/sentence-level issues so as to not put students from multilingual, non-standard ‘academic’ English backgrounds at a disadvantage.”

It also reportedly “encourages students to develop a critical awareness of the variety of choices available to them w/ regard to micro-level issues in order to empower them and equip them to push against biases based on ‘written’ accents.”

Boiled down (and please correct me if I’m wrong), Walkowitz is more or less telling faculty, staff and students (and I’m passing this along in a satirical, loose-shoe sense) that using “ur” instead of “your” is cool. And all the other abbreviations. Oh, and tell those stuffy white grammar fascists to take a hike.

The Polish-born novelist Joseph Conrad (Heart of Darkness, Youth, Nostromo, Outcast of the Islands) didn’t speak English until his 20s, but he gradually became one of the greatest English-language novelists of all time. His prose was impeccable, and I am telling you that Joseph Conrad is quite literally rolling in his grave right now.

I have to admit to a certain admiration for anyone who would march in pouring rain. Stubbornly marching for for a worthy cause that has lost its moment-in-time vitality is one thing, but marching for same while getting totally soaked is something else. If I was planning to march in NYC I would definitely say “forget it…not this horse…another day…I’m outta here.”

Protesters in the rain. There’s no place like New York City. pic.twitter.com/R3v05xHbag

— Alexis Benveniste (@apbenven) July 22, 2020

The 4K UHD Spartacus Bluray arrived yesterday, and oh lawdy and yowsah it’s an extra-luscious, extra-refined, window-pane knockout — no exaggeration.

I’m 100% persuaded that this 1960 large-format classic looks better now on my 65″ 4K than it ever has on any movie screen. The blacks seem stronger and deeper than ever before, but maybe that’s due to my recently changed settings. (I’m a fool for black levels.) And there seems to be a slightly stronger caramel tint to Kirk Douglas‘s skin during torch- or candle-lighted scenes. The reds are glorious; ditto the whites, sandy shales, browns, greens, crimsons.

Yes, I know — five years ago I wrote that the 2015 restoration “has never looked this needle-sharp and natural…it’s a digital knockout, and clean as a hound’s tooth…the difference between this newbie and the 2010 ‘shiny’ version is analogous to the difference between a run-of-the-mill DVD and a Bluray of anything. It really pops…I felt as if I was watching something almost ‘new.'”

Right now: Believe me or not, but it’s my honest-to-God opinion that the 4K newbie delivers a “bump” over the 2015 Bluray. This is what my discerning eyes are telling me. I can do no more than report this.

What I wrote in 2015 applies and then some: “I’m told that every frame has a full measure of grain but I can’t see so much as a single Egyptian mosquito. We all know what grainstorms can look like, and this puppy has none of that.

“Plus there is extra information on all four sides, and the skin tones and shades of everything look completely natural and unforced. This is the Spartacus of the Gods — robust and radiant and more wowser, I’ll bet, than it’s ever looked, even when Douglas, Kubrick and producer Edward Lewis had a final looksee before the New York premiere in November 1960.

“It’s a little bit odd that the nine-minute ‘restoring of Spartacus‘ featurette gives the impression that this new version was primarily an effort by Universal Home Video technical staffers (led by vp technical services Peter Schade) with a little soupcon of freelance assistance from restoration guru Robert Harris.

“For 25 seconds during this nine-minute essay Schade states that Harris was brought in to consult while acknowledging that Harris, having overseen the 1991 photo-chemical restoration of Spartacus with Jim Katz, was definitely the guy to turn to.

“In fact Harris pleaded with Universal to fund a new Spartacus harvest, which they didn’t want to do at first because they felt it would make them look foolish after having approved the “shiny” version. Once they agreed to a digital restoration, Harris worked on it for about a year.

Posted from Dublin on 5.20.18: I’ve long felt a spiritual kinship with Ireland and the Irish. During my initial visit in ’88 (accompanied by wife Maggie and infant son Jett) my first thought was “I could die here.” But I felt a slightly uneasy vibe last night. A somewhat loutish, hair-trigger feeling from some of the guys hanging out in groups in front of pubs and whatnot.

You can usually sense civility in people or a lack of, a current of deference and humility and a basic instinct to be nice or a willingness to take a poke if provoked or fucked with in the slightest way. I was feeling more of the latter last night. Everyone bombed and more than a few on the ornery, rambunctious side.

“And then I came upon the strangest, angriest drunken Irishman I’ve ever gotten a whiff of. This guy, 25 or slightly younger, was so stinking and so consumed with rage that he was just standing in front of a Burger King, immobile, looking slightly downward but more or less statue-like, like he’d been carved out of wood or injected with a drug that turned his muscles into stone. “Don’t touch me or come close…fauhhck, man, don’t even look at me,” his body seemed to be saying.

“It was eerie. Drunks generally stumble or flail around or lie down or lean against walls. This guy was beyond all that. It was like he was trying to decide who to hit or how to kill himself or what weapon to use.”

Right now Khmer Rouge cadres — cancel-culture, street-demonstrating, statue-toppling BLM rage junkies — are doing their level best to persuade Average Joe voters to give Orange Plague another term, despite all the evil he’s unleashed over the last three-plus years.

Wokesters have basically gifted Trump with a substantial campaign issue, one that worked for Richard Nixon 52 years ago (“lawnorder”) and which could conceivably gain in traction: “Vote for me and I will protect you from the rude, lawless, whiteside-wearing rabble that wants to trash your storefronts, defund your police departments and teach ‘The 1619 Project‘ in your children’s classrooms.”

While it’s common knowledge that Middle Americans despise p.c. fanatics, I don’t happen to believe that Joe Lunchbucket pays enough attention to the insanity coming out of Left Twitter for this to seriously affect matters. Others, however, feel it might.

Consider a new Ryan Lizza Politico article titled “Americans Tune In To ‘Cancel Culture’ — And Don’t Like What They See.” The results of a Morning Consult poll suggests that hinterlanders share “significant concern” about this.

Excerpt: “Twenty-seven percent of voters said cancel culture had a somewhat positive or very positive impact on society, but almost half (49%) said it had a somewhat negative or very negative impact.

“While online shaming may seem like a major preoccupation for the public if you spend a lot of time on Twitter, only 40% of voters say they have participated in cancel culture and only one in 10 say they participate ‘often.’ It appears to be more of a liberal pursuit: Half of Democrats have shared their dislike of a public figure on social media after they did something objectionable, while only a third of Republicans say they have.

Justice never rests. Perry Mason has been renewed for a second season. #PerryMasonHBO pic.twitter.com/FiNQs2QGbh

— HBO (@HBO) July 22, 2020

In terms of immaculate black-and-white viewing pleasure, nothing beats Carol Reed‘s Odd Man Out (47). I’ve been re-watching it every three or four years for the last couple of decades, but the Bluray versions (I happen to own an eight-year-old Region 2 Network Bluray) are just breathtaking…every glistening, perfectly lighted frame could and should be hung in an art gallery. It really doesn’t get any better than this.

Robert Krasker (1913-1971), the Australian dp, won an Oscar for his brilliant capturing of Carol Reed‘s The Third Man (’49), but his Odd Man Out cinematography is the grander achievement, I feel… more pictorially transporting on top of sadder and more poignant when you factor in everything else. Krasker was an absolute devotee of film noir and German Expressionism, and I would go so far as to call his work magical in this instance. Each and every shot is on the level of “my God, look at the snowflakes and shadows and the gentle illumination of lamplight…amazing! And look at that! And that!” And it never stops.

The Reed classics aside, Krasker’s other credits include Laurence Olivier‘s Henry V, David Lean‘s Brief Encounter, Irving Rapper‘s Another Man’s Poison, Robert Rossen‘s Alexander the Great, Peter Ustinov‘s Billy Budd and Anthony Mann‘s El Cid and The Fall of the Roman Empire.

Krasker’s Third Man Oscar was historic — he was the first Australian cinematographer to be so honored.

Kanye West’s recent tweets…well, who knows to what extent bipolar disorder can compromise if not ruin your ability to self-express with at least a degree of eloquence or even clarity?

Kim Kardashian statement in N.Y. Post:

Or: Where The Bumblefuck Roam.