As you know, Bright Young Things, directed by Steven Fry and recently released in London, is the screen adaptation of Evelyn Waugh’s Vile Bodies. Ed Page of Danger Blog! points us to The Splendidiser. Given “a swatch of prose, or even an entire website, it will convert it to the language of the ‘bright young things’ of 1920s London,” Mr. Page explains, quoting from the Splenderized version of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address:
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth marvellously on this continent, a simply unbearable new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the bloody proposition that all men are shriekworthily created equal. It’s just too dull.
Stephanie Merritt imagines the U.K. Lit Idol Contest:
Dan: Ranjit, can I just butt in here? I’m just not getting any sense of the obligatory exoticism.
Imelda: Where’s your cultural heritage? I don’t feel that you’re drawing on your background.
Ranjit: I’m writing a doctoral thesis on schisms.
Dan: What Imelda’s saying, we’ve got to be blunt here, you need a few fragrant tamarind trees.
Imelda: Mangoes. Cricket. Uprisings.
Ranjit: But it’s a biographical novel about Martin Luther.
Imelda: You can set it in London, by all means, that’s very popular, too, as long as you have a flashback to the Subcontinent a few generations earlier. With an amusing great-uncle. But we need something that we can describe as ‘a sweeping epic’.
Dan: Try and work in an arranged marriage…
Imelda: Forced marriage.
“My Trip To The Supermarket After Reading James Frey’s ‘A Million Little Pieces,'” by Will Leitch:
I am walking to the frozen foods section. A man is wearing an Apron smeared with the blood of Cattle. The Apron is bloody.
Can I help you?
The Apron is bloody. I am still hungry. I am still hungry and the Apron is bloody.
From the Old Hag’s hard-hitting interview with the Executive Office of the President of the United States:
let me drop a particularly unfortunate bit of feng shui: in the public section of the White House, there a long wall of photographs of Presidential pets, a clever distraction for children who don’t want to be there and are not likely to respond to recited history or antique furnishings. The only other picture in that along that wall is of Martin Luther King Jr., segregated from the dogs, cats, horses, a sweet cow and other miscellaneous beasties by an open doorway. [Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! We knew it! –Ed.]