NEW YORK – Bart Simpson is known for prank calls, but Nancy Cartwright, who provides Bart's voice on "The Simpsons," has been heard this week in a phone message using the voice of the cartoon fourth-grader to promote Scientology.
Cartwright, long a member of the church, recorded her 60-second robocall to boost attendance at a Scientology event scheduled for Saturday.
Although she identifies herself, much of the spiel is delivered in Bart's voice, wrapping up with, "See you there, man!"
The Fox network would not comment, but "Simpsons" executive producer Al Jean said the message wasn't authorized by the show, which has never "endorsed any religion, philosophy or system of beliefs any more profound than Butterfinger bars."
Scientology is just getting its fingers into everything, isn't it? Still, I have to love Jean's comment. Except now I want some Butterfinger BBs. *tummy growl*
Remember last blog how I said I'm a chronic karaoke-er? Yeah... Now that I sit here and think about it, I'm pretty sure that music just makes me go crazy. I can get so enthused and pumped-up and emotive, even when I'm sitting at my desk with the headphones on. For instance, for the better part of an hour, I sat at my desk this evening playing Spider Solitaire and listening to two songs on repeat which I'd decided I couldn't live without in my iTunes any longer.
and
I now think that I should probably have turned on the webcam and just rocked out, just to let you see what it does to me. But, surprisingly enough, I do have some inhibitions, and there will probably not be a Dr. Horrible Double Spaz Dance Video feature... this time...
I'm sure it's the influence of musical theatre coming back to haunt my ass (especially now that I'm amazingly compelled to get the Sweeny Todd soundtrack so I can have Alan Rickman serenade at me). I'd like to think it wasn't always this way... but I'm probably wrong. I'm pretty sure that if I talked to my mom she could come up with several home videos of my toddler self gyrating wildly to the vocal stylings of Mickey Mouse and friends (it was a red cassette tape, and I'm pretty sure I loved the hell out of it, for me to remember it this clearly). Mom, are you reading this? Do you know what I'm talking about? If so, you should probably not share it with me, because I'll almost certainly feel compelled to share it here and embarrass the hell out of you further.
There are times when being a slave to the melody is a good thing, though. I always go to the gym with the iPod in tow, with my special selection of upbeat dancey-type music to keep me moving. But sometimes the shows on the tvs are compelling, and I find myself paying as much attention to the shows (closed captioning ftw!) as to the music. But tonight... I was watching the new Tim Roth show, and there was only about fifteen minutes left, when some damn teeny-bopper airhead girly girls got on the ellipticals next to me and changed the channel to basketball!!! This made me pretty damn cranky, let me tell you. So I cranked the volume, put my head down, skipped any song that didn't move fast enough and, immersed in my own little world, laid down the rock and roll!
The only problem is... now my legs hurt. But I have the solution.
As anyone who has accompanied me to a bar with a karaoke machine will know, I kind of love to dance. I'm not particularly good at it, but I tend to not let that hold me back; especially when there's karaoke happening, because chances are the singer (who is often me, but that's another blog) is not particularly good either (and again, this is often me, but that's still another blog).
I find myself inexplicably drawn to dance in spite of my shortcomings. The few occasions in which I've been able to be part of choreographed numbers for a theatrical production (yes, yes... Capers woo...) have been thoroughly enjoyable for me, and I have acquired many of those songs so I can re-live the moments in the privacy of my unemployment. And sometimes in the anonymity of the internet.
And simply watching dancing is another guilty pleasure of mine. I'd almost hate to admit it, but I doubt many people really read this anyway, so I'm not feeling too inhibited when I confess that I've watched (and mostly enjoyed) films like Save the Last Dance, and Honey, and I even watched the premier episode of Superstars of Dance, hosted by Michael Flatley. And... Yes. I'll say it. Damn you, Ireland - why did your two performances of that episode have to be Lord of the Dance routines?!?! Couldn't you have brought something new to the table?!?! Weak. Just... weak, Ireland. I expected better from you.
The brief resurgence of hit musical movies was awesome for me. Chicago? Of course I loved it! Moulin Rouge? Fun! Rent? I can see why there are so many fangirls. And if I ever get the chance, I'll get around to watching a lot more of the recent crop, like Hairspray (and not just because You Can't Stop The Beat is one of my long-standing Capers-favorites). And what recently-released film has me totally fascinated?
NPR reports that PETA is now attempting to get people to think of fish as "sea kittens". Furthermore, Yahoo tells me that the group has also asked officials of Spearfish high school (located in Spearfish, SD, of course) to rename the school "Sea Kitten High School". Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it.
It is both amusing, and perplexing. On the one hand, it's easy to assume that this is just another lame, outrageous ploy to get people to think that PETA is relevant. On the other hand... are there really people out there who can think of fish as... sea kittens? And does this new term apply to other seafood-esque creatures, like lobster, crab, and shrimp? Perhaps I'm a bit close-minded here, but I can't help but imagine that their inevitable next step is to re-brand other animals, and that spiders will eventually become "leggy puppies". *shudder*
In other news, that salmon I had for dinner tonight sure was tasty. And I am, as always, looking forward to my next opportunity to have some sushi. Bring on the sea kittens - and the tartar sauce!
Edit: And, as always, lolcats always make things funnier.
