Potpourri

QUITEDEW Paint by Numbers for Adults Beginner, Times Square:

Headline from nypost.com: “‘Taxi Driver’ screenwriter calls AI ‘smarter’ and ‘better’ than Oscar-nominated writers.” Paul Shrader has been an iconoclast. I’ve found his screenplays compelling but flawed. Still, he gives viewers an intelligent alternative to typical fare. To my astonishment, he has been nominated for an Oscar only once: First Reformed (2017), the story of a troubled priest starring Ethan Hawke. Not only did he do the script for Taxi Driver (1976), he wrote Raging Bull (1980). The former is anarchic fun and put Martin Scorsese on the map, the latter is highly regarded by critics, although it is a tough ride. Stephen Spielberg summed up Scorsese’s work very well, saying something like one didn’t know whether to laugh or cry while viewing it. Anyway, back to Shrader. As much scorn as I have for modern Hollywood, I wonder if his comment is sour grapes. I probably shouldn’t even be commenting on this, as I’ve not seen an Oscar-nominated movie since the end of Netflix by mail. I wonder if I ever will again.

Wrap your head around this. From NYP: “Trans ACLU lawyer slammed for calling cisgender women ‘non-transgender women’.” Huh?

Although I’m glad the assassination files are being declassified, I’ll be surprised if they reveal anything significant. It will be maddening if parts are redacted. It would defeat the purpose.

Among today’s many celebrations, it’s National Compliment Day. Here are nine culled from a Reader’s Digest article by Charlotte Hilton Andersen:
You’re so perfect that if you were an Instagram photo, I’d assume you were made with AI.
I love you more than Kanye loved Kim. No, wait. I love you more than Kanye loves himself!
If you were a haircut, I’d never wear a hat.
You’re adorkable.
You’re the reason cave men drew on walls.
You’re tastier than a Ferrero Rocher, and your name is easier to pronounce.
We’re so great together that peanut butter and jelly are jealous.
In the zombie apocalypse, I’d kill you last.
We’re so connected that when you cry, I blow my nose.

A day ago I received an email from Amazon, stating that the copy of By the Numbers is flawed. The cover is a tad blurry. I will address it if I find errors in the text, which is almost a 100% probability. If there are none, I’ll go with it as is.

Full sunshine, negligible wind, so the Anti-Inflation Book Shop was a go. My thanks to the woman who donated four books, and to the lovely young mom who overcompensated me for a kids’ book and a chess set; and to the gentleman who bought a Dominos set; and to the one who purchased a paperback in Russian; and to the woman who did a swap of Russian books.

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