I don't know why it is that I think of Bacall whenever I've been a bit bad, but I do. Maybe it's because I think I look like she does when I do my smarty-pants face; like she's up to something, but you don't quite know what. Then I think about the time in J1 when the teacher told us to pack up so I was crawling around the floor collecting things to put away, saw Paul had kept building things with blocks, and crawled past and knocked it with my foot so he would have to stop. I thought it looked completely accidental, but either it didn't or his crying upset the teacher, so I had to sit behind the blackboard (needless to say, I was humiliated; in my mind, I was carrying out orders. This is when I learnt vigilantes are not welcome in government institutions, and that obeying orders would not protect me. It was a sad day, but a necessary one). Anyway, I don't think I manage to be quite as mysterious as Bacall; it doesn't help my cause that I don't smoke and therefore lack the requisite cloud about my person, also my brow doesn't come out quite enough for me to do a really good mysterious/haughty look up through my eyebrows. Nevertheless, as my block-knocking seemed the perfect vigilante crime, so does my badness seem Bacallesque. It makes me feel better about it.
On Thursday's news, one of the stupid fillers was a "story" about Meryl Streep's Oscar "hopes" for her "portrayal" of Bitchface Thatcher in The Iron Lady. Streep was interviewed, and said (in her drawn-out, everybody look at moui, look at moui! tones) she admired Thatcher's "lioness's steadfastness", and a few other nonsensical couplets (what the fuck is a lioness's steadfastness? Does she mean tenacity? Because anyone who has read Roald Dahl knows it's the vixen who will fight to the death to protect her young, not the lioness. Philistine.). I'm hoping Streep's next role is portraying Hitler, and that she says she admires his unfailing organisational skills, and then actors will be told once and for all that they are not to open their mouths unless reading from a script (notable exceptions will include Christian Bale).
In more important news, the upcoming Food Bill. I've been meaning to talk about it for a little while but my gripes about actors and period pain kept getting in the way; maybe that was for the best, because instead you can read about it HERE! and get to enjoy pretty illustrations, on my lovely and very talented friend's blog The Bulwark And The Sunbeam. I've also been meaning to share her blog for a while, but as I was following it in secret, I thought I'd better keep my tracks concealed... I just feel a bit like when you know people are reading your blog, sometimes you can't help censoring yourself in funny ways. Anyway, the Food Bill is madness, and will affect all of us; those with least, the most (as always). I'm reading Breakfast Of Champions at the moment (my first foray into Kurt Vonnegut, and one I'm enjoying very much), and just read this:
"Don't matter if you care", the old miner said, "if you don't own what you care about."
Caring is, in many ways, a luxury, and it's one that comes with responsibility. We have time, voices, internet access, and social consciences, and the clock is ticking on our ownership of something as basic as selling homemade fudge to fundraise for a primary school.
I'm going to go and do some reading now, so I'll leave you with this, just the thing for a wet, hungover Saturday afternoon. Nil bastardo etc etc.
Image from wunderbuzz (still from 'To Have And Have Not', 1944)