Dylan Bolin

Ugh.

Readers of this Blog will remember that just three short weeks ago, another Monday was erased by a “Big Game” hangover and here we are again.  Except this time the culprits were Mimosas, spinach dip and Brussels Sprouts wrapped in bacon.  There is some solace, however, as it’s all part of celebrating the wonderful diversity of non-sanctioned, National holidays:  The fiercely heterosexual ”Big Game” Sunday and not-so-fiercely-heterosexual Oscar© Sunday.

It started early with the E! Red Carpet show where they (E!) mainly took pictures of their correspondents standing on the Red Carpet©.  But we couldn’t stay with them for long because the Barbara Walters’ Special© was coming on, and I was really curious as to what makes the Jonas Brothers© tick; especially what gave them the cojones to think that they could take the stage with Stevie Wonder at the Grammys© and screw up his song.  It was very entertaining, however, to listen to Barbara© hint at their budding, pubescent sexuality and watch them fondle their Purity Rings© like a trio of horny Golems©.  Barbara, in the world of Cougars, you’re a Sabre-Toothed Tiger.

And congratulations to the continent of Australia.  With Hugh Jackman, you’re back on top.  Not since Paul Hogan have we fallen for your fair Down Under© like this.  (By the way, Portia de Rossi?  Australian?  Really?)  What with being usurped by a drunken Mel Gibson, the sweeping Lord of the Rings© trilogy and the hilarious Flight of the Conchords©, you were probably worried, but there can be no doubt that Australia is sexy again.

And you know what that means, folks.  An Australian accent will make you sexy, too.  What’s that?  You say you don’t do accents very well?  Not to worry; as always, I’m here to help.

Australia is a fascinating former penal colony with a rich heritage and culture.  It’s important to remember that when saying things like “G’day©,” “Throw another shrimp on the barbie” and “May your chooks turn into emus and kick your shithouse door down!”

For Americans trying to master the Australian accent, here’s where you start:  Do your best Southern U.S. dialect.  (If you happen to currently live south of the Mason/Dixon line, just speak normally; you’re half-way there.)  Go ahead; I’ll wait…

Good enough.  Now, do your best English dialect (the more ”Cockney” the better)…diphthongs, people, remember your diphthongs!

Nice.  Now, against all of the intentions of God© and Nature, combine the two accents.  Initially, you may feel like the subject of an exorcism, but that’s okay.  And don’t worry if the parts aren’t perfect; the Australian accent is not an exact science.  Go ahead and give it a shot…

Bravo!©  Now get out there to the singles bars and practice.  Remember though, if you want to really pull off being Australian, you’d better be able to hold your liquor.  By this I mean:  Don’t ”chunder¹.”  Feel free to fight, fall down, break things and blame the Jews for everything² however.

One more Oscar© note:  A big thumbs-up to former Milwaukeeans Dan Harmon and Rob Schrab for their work on Hugh Jackman’s throroughly entertaining opening number.  Dan and Rob wrote Hugh’s lyrics, and Rob built the spartan, yet incredibly creative sets.

-Dylan

¹ “To Vomit”

² …Mel G.

I don’t know if we have a say in the matter, but I’d like to appoint some new Hollywood royalty.  For years Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have reigned, but I feel the polish on the scepter is beginning to fade if it hasn’t already.

I never quite understood the fascination.  The Red Carpet sycophants from E! and TV Guide and so forth would have us think that love, happiness and glamour stream from Brad and Angelina like spider silk, but I think the perennially perky E! correspondents might be flogging a dead unicorn.

Watching the Red Carpet coverage from the SAG awards last night, it was clear that the response from the fans in attendance was more Pavlovian than actual joy; as if the high-pitched squealing was Heimliched out of them by a sense of obligation. 

I have no issue with Brad Pitt.  I’ve enjoyed most everything I’ve seen him in, and he seems like a genuine, caring fellow underneath his cloak of stardom, and he’s been very hands-on when it comes to rebuilding New Orleans (www.makeitrightnola.org).  I liked Benjamin Button better when it was Forrest Gump, and you’d be VERY hard pressed to do it better than Tom Hanks, but you can’t fault Brad Pitt for taking the gig.

I have a different feeling when it comes to Angelina Jolie.  She was very good in Girl, Interrupted, but I don’t understand all of this Changeling buzz.  Maybe it’s because I, like many men, tend to try to lay low and avoid the impending swath of destruction when we see a woman screaming and crying for two and a half hours.  It may well be a very good film, but I’ve retreated to the basement and am busy drilling holes into wood and sanding things until it blows over.

My point is that I’m not sure she’s earned her aloof and regal air.  Johnny Depp has an aloof and regal air too, but it seems to come from humility and kindness, whereas Angelina Jolie is poised to punish direct eye contact with a beat down from her security guards.  (By the way, listening to her speak, is she Australian now?)  But what do I know about it.

Nevertheless, I think it’s time to coronate a new celebrity couple.

In the category of New Celebrity Couple For Us To Fawn Over To Replace Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie (”Brangelina”), the nominees are:

Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick (”Kedgwick”), Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson (”Tita Wilhanks”), Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith (”Winket Smith”), Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi (”El de Grossi”) and Josh Brolin and Diane Lane (”J-Brain”).

And the winner is…

(To Be Continued)

-Dylan