Posts by Lucy Stewart
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Does he even drink much in the film? He gets wine thrown in his face, that much I remember. And drinks some fine spiked wine. But other than that?
Hmmm - I was pretty sure I remembered some pointed references to alcohol, but maybe they were being deliberately vague? I do remember that fandom had a good bitch about the inappropriateness of alcohol as a substitute drug, so that was certainly the impression a lot of people were left with.
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See, I did not notice that cocaine had been replaced in the Guy Ritchie film at all - I just assumed it was implied that it is what he was on when he was holed up in his office experimenting on the dog.
No, they made quite an explicit choice to not include any references to or depiciton of cocaine use - largely, I understand, as a condition of RDJ taking the part, for obvious reasons.
Hard to believe I know but Dad was told to smoke by a doctor in the early 80s for a chest cold so it took some time for the message to take.
Oh, I know - I saw a great cigarette ad in a display at the Berkeley Historical Society with a doctor promoting the brand as the "most soothing". Cough.
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Sherlock Holmes is an interesting case, because, as you mention, the mere fact that Watson does disapprove strongly of his cocaine use in-story is highly unusual for the time - I would say, more unusual than disapproving of smoking would be today (as smoking is not considered medicinal by anyone - medical marijuana aside - but cocaine was in the late nineteenth century.) In the RDJ movie they replaced it with alcohol, which was not right at all, because it's a totally different drug taken for different reasons.
Personally, I think it's taking censorship to a dangerous level to remove smoking from past situations - just like removing sexism, racism, and other nasty habits once more common than today (not that I think smoking is on the same level but you get my point.) It whitewashes the past, makes people forget things have changed. And that makes us forget things might need changing - or be able to be changed.
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The highlight of that "hard R" masterpiece is
You know, I avoid going to that sort of movie so I don't have to know what's in it. Although I generally agree with your point.
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Why? Because he was a lovely guy? Or he saw how best to run such a wild machine.
There's a statue somewhere in Washington depicting trade as a wild horse being bridled by a man. IIRC it was a federally-funded art piece as part of the response to the Depression. One can see the inspiration.
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And just how would that be done Graeme? I mean NZ is not exactly flooded with FakeReceipt 1.0 software, is it?
If you can't think of at *least* three ways to evade tax in this manner - at least initially - you're not trying hard enough. Crime is easy, it's the not-getting-caught bit that demands thought.
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Actually half of my utterly stuffed wardrobe is just vintage coats! It's an illness.
I have wardrobe envy right now, just so you know.
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Okay, so, I have a lot on my mind clothes-wise right now because I had to skim down to the stuff I would like to take to America. And then the stuff I wanted. And then the stuff I actually needed (and some I wanted which is waiting for Mike to take including my boots which BETTER BE PACKED. Ahem.)
The stuff I had to leave behind that I'm most sad about? Probably my various scarves, largely collected in Europe two and a half years ago when I found that pashminas were two for five pounds from street vendors in London. I love looking at colours - I used to have all the Resene paint charts up on my bedroom wall, just to look at - and I loved having a rainbow of scarves in my wardrobe, to be carefully chosen out to match whatever I was wearing. Now I have two. But they went to good homes, so I will be content.
The stuff I got to take I was thrilled about? Mostly my black leather bomber jacket, which my got passed down from my deceased grandfather-in-law (who I never met) to my father-in-law (who it didn't fit) to my husband (who it also didn't fit) and stopped at me, because it doesn't fit brilliantly (right length, far too baggy) but it's warm and leather and has thirty million pockets to put stuff in, a trait sorely lacking in most women's clothing and which I put to excellent use trying to beat the weight limit on the flight over here. It's comfy and sort of cool (which I am usually not) and, did I mention? Enough pockets for everything. Perfect.
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So a guest from Germany - who barely knew any of them - marched over to him and demanded "ARE YOU THE ASSHOLE WHO LEFT HIS WIFE WHEN SHE WAS PREGNANT??" there was an awkward pause, but he admitted he was. "WELL I THINK YOU'RE A PIECE OF SHIT!" she said, and sat back down to calmly eat her sausages. The asshole guy looked uncomfortable for about a minute and then just left.
I can think of several people I wish this had happened to.
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Yeah, so what's Newmarket then? The rear exit?
It's like that old joke about Auckland: If Wellington is Te Upoko o te Ika (a Maui Tikitiki a Taranga), then...