mimi smartypants
Seriously, though: what's with the penguins?

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MY OFFERINGS AND SERVICES

I realize that I am lucky to be working in the exact field that I declared (to my Snoopy diary) that I wanted to work in at age 9, basically the minute I found out what editors do. I suppose if you are at all successful at a job (even at the bare-minimum level of “not getting fired”) you are using a skill, even if the overall job is not a perfect match. (I have had some terrible jobs where my skills of “looking busy” and “eavesdropping” came in very handy.)  

That said, I sometimes wish my actual paying job were “consuming media and then fixating on dumb irrelevant details about it.” Book reviewer? Movie critic? Nah, audiences for book, movie, and television reviews expect meaningful engagement with the content and message. While I am CAPABLE of doing that, it sounds like hard work and I would rather not. 

I kind of want to be a professional nitpicker (not literally! that is gross). That’s why the spreadsheet where I track my reading has a notes section with details like “Unlikely that someone the protagonist’s age would be named Kylie” or “Is that a reasonable price for cocaine in 1997?” So even though I am not getting paid, here are some nitpicks!

The Shards (book, Bret Easton Ellis): BEE uses the word “automatically” a lot in this novel. Through the magic of reading it on Kindle I can tell you exactly how many: 49 times. It never seems like quite the right word choice. 

Fresh (movie, 2022): The opening credits appear 34 minutes into this movie. Is that a new record?

Annihilation (movie, 2018): Five scientists are sent on the mission but none of them are shown doing any science. Natalie Portman peers through a microscope maybe twice and is kind of like “huh.” Also, I get that once Kane returned the military was like “oof, something is wrong” but before that, why did they assume the other soldiers were dead? For all you know everyone sent previously is still kicking it in the Shimmer like one big happy naked Rainbow Family. So pessimistic, the military! 

Taxi Driver (movie, 1976): Realized that although I know all about it in a “cultural conversation” kind of way I had never seen Taxi Driver, so I watched Taxi Driver. Every critic dampened their pants about Taxi Driver’s soundtrack and eh, I don’t think it’s that great. You put a lone moody saxophone on top of street scenes of Manhattan and I am going to be unpleasantly reminded of Woody Allen (although I will grant you that Woody Allen uses a completely different set of New York vistas.) Also, Travis Bickle goes to a porn theater and gets popcorn, Chuckles, and an RC cola? It just seems like a lot of snacks for a porn theater. I didn’t even know they sold snacks. 

Quarterbacks (Netflix mini-series, 2023): I am usually a sucker for sports documentaries but this was kind of a snooze. Since they profile three QBs I made myself play Fuck, Marry, Kill for each episode which was surprisingly difficult! Overall I think it’s fuck Mahomes, marry Mariota, kill Kirk Cousins. 

Something To Do With Paying Attention (book, David Foster Wallace): I think it was pretty genius of McNally Editions to publish this bit of Pale King as a standalone, and I have hauled out my copy a couple of times now for reading and sighing because UGH, so good and I miss him. I do not appreciate the physical cover design, which has a floppy odd partial dust jacket (like maybe three-quarters of the whole trim size), shiny where the rest of the cover is matte cardstock, and which feels extra-weird on my hands when I am high (a lot of my DFW re-reads are while high, especially if I realize that my current book is going to irritate me). 

ET CETERA

  1. Today is 18 months of no booze for me and I believe we will keep that going. I hardly ever think about it anymore. Recently I met someone new at work and it came up that I don’t drink. She said, “Did you ever?” Then I made an awkward throat-noise and said, “oh, hahaha, YES,” which may have given her an inflated sense of my history with alcohol, but whatever. I am cool with being the mysterious WFH colleague who may or may not have been to rehab. 
  2. The Smithsonian pandas are going back to China and GOOD. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back. Giving us pandas is the worst kind of soft diplomacy and if I were in charge I would refuse. I’d call up the Chinese government and say look, don’t fob off your terrible trash animals on us. It would probably cause an international incident but I do not care. If advisors forced me to accept the pandas I would re-gift them to Belgium or Iran and cause an even worse incident. 
  3. There is not much The Atlantic does right except for this compilation of the Pope getting owned by his clothing. Bonus, you get to learn words like zucchetto and pellegrina
  4. Performance artists Mixie and Munchie need to be experienced directly, so look them up on TikTok and then come back to read this lengthy interview. (Spoiler: you will not learn their names.)
  5. From my “dream journal” (aka the notebook by my bed where I scribble things in the dark): GWEN STEFANI MENACES ME. 

—mimi smartypants is the only one who always inhales.