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July 29, 2003

TV notes

It’s Tuesday night, so of course that means Queer Eye. Speaking of the show, Kyan’s tutorial on shaving (in the second episode) inspired me to put aside my usual can of foaming shave gel, and instead try one of the product samples I got at the Grooming Lounge last month: Jack Black beard lube, “with jojoba and eucalyptus.” Mmm, tingly. I like it. It’s clear, so I can actually see where I’m shaving. I think I’ll go back to either the Grooming Lounge or Sephora to stock up on a whole kit of shaving supplies. (Any product recommendations, ye gentlemen?)

But back to Bravo: Boy Meets Boy premieres tonight. Hm. I’ll withhold judgment until I’ve seen it. Related article on gay-themed TV in today’s Times.

If you’re all Bravo-ed out, go instead to the Independent Film Channel and check out the 1960s French adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr. Ripley, entitled Plein Soleil (released in English as “Purple Noon”), with the young Alain Delon in the title role. A classic movie all around. And on BBC America, Ground Force debuts a new series, bringing its magic of landscape transformation across the pond to America’s gardens.

Lord of the spam

One of the junk e-mails I got yesterday had “Department of Violations” in the “From:” field, and the subject was “Regarding Your Speeding Ticket.” I knew it was bogus, but I decided to check it out anyway. It turns out to be an ad for a police-radar scrambler. And a while back, I got one with a similarly alarming subject line regarding credit ratings or payment or something like that. Yikes. Spammers will do anything to get you to read their e-mails. I mean, honestly. It’s crazy.

Speaking of spam, there’s a good bit in the new Harper’s: a transcript from a May 6 debate in the British House of Lords, first on the issue of injuries from corned-beef cans…

Lord Sainsbury of Turville: My Lords, I totally agree. The statistics on accidents are extremely fascinating; they prove that the British public can use practically anything in this world to hurt themselves with. […]

and then, on junk e-mail (“This Potted Meat, This England,” Aug. 2003). An extended excerpt:

Lord Mitchell asked Her Majesty’s Government: What are their plans to reduce the growth in spam (unsolicited emails).
Lord Sainsbury of Turville: My Lords, I hope noble Lords will appreciate how I move seamlessly from corned beef to spam. […]
Lord Renton: My Lords, will the Minister explain how it is that an inedible tinned food that lasted forever and was supplied to those on active service can become an unsolicited email, bearing in mind that some of us wish to be protected from having an email?
Lord Sainsbury of Turville: My Lords, I am afraid that I have not been able to find out why the term “spam” is used, but that is the meaning it now has. It is a matter that should be taken very seriously because it not only clutters up computers but involves a great deal of very unpleasant advertising to do with easy credit, pornography, and miracle diets. That is offensive to people, and we should try to reduce it.
Lord Faulkner of Worcester: My Lords, I can help the Minister with the origin of the word. It comes from aficionados of Monty Python, and the famous song, “Spam, spam, spam, spam.” It has been picked up by the Internet community and is used as a description of rubbish on the Internet.
Lord Saulton of Abernethy: My Lords, do the Government have any plans to restrict unsolicited faxes? My fax paper is always being wasted by people who send me faxes I do not want. I do not know whether they could be called “corned beef” or something, but I have had enough of them.

And it goes on like that. Spam seems to make an even more bizarre topic of conversation when you preface your musings with “my Lords.” Ah, if only Congress were as entertaining. (Thanks to Adam for loaning me his copy of Harper’s. Good luck getting it back.)