You guys. You guys. You guys! Twitter is down.

I wanted to post to let the world know that I am kind of drunk and thrashing around to Rock You Like A Hurricane, but it’s DOWN. Come back, Twitter. I know there was this phase in 2008 when I decried you as being useless, but I’ve changed. Without you how will I know if there is a police incident on the other side of the city, or what concerts people are at, or the latest celebrity gossip that CNN considers breaking news?

Adrian recently commented at a social gathering that he doesn’t like being limited to “170 characters” when communicating, and I was instantly horrified. It’s 140 characters. 140. God! It’s like I don’t even KNOW you.

Anyway, it’s still down and Warrant’s Cherry Pie is on now and I have to return to my houseguests.

PS: I am working on a post mocking Internet Feminists and their Very Serious Business, but I am kind of afraid of offending everyone.

WARNING: This post completely spoils the new Christopher Nolan flick, Inception. If you have not seen it yet and wish to remain surprised, stop reading now. I mean it.

Okay, before I get started let me say that there are some things I liked about Inception. The dream-within-a-dream concept was neat, and clearly some of the scenes were visually stunning. (I liked the train appearing out of nowhere in Dream Layer Uno.) I particularly enjoyed how the opening scene featured Leo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Lukas Haas — it was like the “child stars done good” segment. And as a Canadian, I am actually bound by government legislation to think Ellen Page is adorable.

However, due to sheer frustration over being told repeatedly by friends and internets that this movie was smart as hell, I feel a retort is in order. So let’s skip over all the stuff I liked and get to the end of the movie, shall we? In the final scene, there is an indication that either a) everything is still all a dream; or b) the top is all teetering, leaving it up to the viewer to decide whether it was all a dream or not. (My intrepid movie viewing companion and I differed on this point.)

Look, if you did not know in the first 30 minutes of this movie that it would have an “it was all a dream… or was it!” M. Night-esque ending, then I can only assume that you have never seen a film before in your life. They may as well have written it on the screen in giant letters. “BOY IT SURE IS TOUGH TO KEEP TRACK OF WHICH REALITY YOU’RE IN WINK WINK.” A shocking ending would have been tying everything up neatly, or just leaving Leo in fake sand world for the rest of time. What we got, though, was a 100% expected “twisty” ending.. so stop pretending you were so surprised.

In either ending interpretation, there is a pretty good chance that Leo is stuck in a dream. Think about that. Who put him in the dream? When did it happen? His little top totem worked at some point, so it was during the course of the movie. Seriously, ponder this, dear reader: is there any information given at any point about how he would get in a “top level” dream, who would put him there, and what the purpose was? Clever story writing gives clues and hints and sly glances at this kind of thing. At the end, when the twist is revealed, we the audience clutch our heads and say, “Oh my god, so when X did totally innocuous activity Y it set off Z! I understand now!”

Incredibly clever story writing does not just randomly make shit happen because it’s neat. The ending could have been Leo coming home to find his entire family had been eaten by hat-wearing bears, and there would have been almost as much story to back it up.

And I’m not even touching on the general failings of the script, like … why Ken Watanabe came along at all. Hey, I’m an owner of a major multi-national company with powerful rivals and equally powerful friends and probably a busy schedule, so I’m gonna go into a very dangerous espionage mission with crazy technology and a strong chance of death? It’s like Star Trek, when the deadly planet surface would be explored by a party made up of the Captain and all the critical department heads. Hey, hope The Federation keeps their organization succession plans all shored up.

The point being, I don’t mind those kind of fairly minor failings in a pretty, entertaining movie. But Inception has been such a little hype machine, and I’m tired of the internet telling me that it was brilliant and soooo smart and deserves Oscars by the bucketloads. You want an intelligent movie with a final moment that kicks you in the guts and in the brains, check out Nolan’s early work, Memento.

Now there’s a movie where everything clicks into place with sickening ease and you realize what people will truly do to escape reality.

———————-

This pretty much sums up my life. Judging by the hundreds of comments, I am not alone.

Are you tired of lugging around lukewarm watermelons? No more! Now you can just cart them to and fro. (No word on if they come in square shape too.)

So, sure, you know that I’m a bit of a nerd, or that I’m Canadian. You might know that I dye my hair a lot or love David Lynch movies. But did you know that I’m a Guinness World Record holder? That’s right.

Me and 4,231 other people.

Over the Canada Day / Independence Day weekend I joined in with an American crew to set the Guinness World Record for Largest Zombie Walk. While my signed and stamped name is included on a list of participants somewhere, I admit I kind of sidestepped the theme and went as Shauna of the Dead.

I hate zombies. I loathe them. I’m fairly certain that they will attack me and everyone I love one day. (I have spent a fair bit of time wondering if zombies eat cats. Will I need to keep an eye on mine when the apocalypse comes, or can I just stick them in a box somewhere and go back later? Zombie canon is a little vague on this point.) I certainly would not dress up as one, on principle, although I applaud my very well-costumed friends and fellow Walkers.

By the way, true friendship is not beating someone compulsively with a cardboard cricket bat even as they are spewing red foamy chunks (brought on by eating antacid tabs) down their putrid shirtfront.

While I have been cooking a lot lately, I post very few recipes here. Partially the issue is that my cooking is still very much about experimentation, and I’m not going to foist any failed experiments on y’all. (Rice, why are you so difficult?!) Additionally, I’m not going to post any recipes that are boring and easy.

All that, of course, is a preamble to set up my third recipe post: Beef Stroganoff with Parsley Noodles.

I watched an episode of Masterchef Australia 2 earlier this week where the contestants had to taste a very fancy beef stroganoff and then make their own version of it. (If you like novice-level cooking and you like skill-based competition shows, you will ADORE Masterchef.) I decided to try my own version of the challenge: no time limits, no recipes, no fancy equipment… just the memory of the show and whatever cooking knowledge I have obtained thus far. The results were possibly one of the most tasty things I have ever made.

This is a recipe for when you have a lot of time and feel like cooking something pretty elaborate. I don’t have any measurements because I don’t measure. Do what feels good, man.

Step The First: Pasta

1. Chop up fresh parsley into a very fine pile.
2. Put flour and a pinch of salt into a bowl. Mix eggs, milk, and some oil or butter in a separate bowl. Add the parsley.
3. Make a little crater in the middle of your dry bowl and slowly mix in the liquid. When they’re combined, knead the dough around with your hands. Add flour as needed until the dough holds together well.
4. Throw a towel over the bowl and let it sit for 10 minutes or so. When I was a kid my Dad would bake all kinds of bread, and the sight of a bowl with a tea towel over it is definitely a happy one.
5. Go buy a cheap pasta roller. Okay, okay, I know what you’re saying: “But Jessica, I am a hobby cook! I do not need all that fancy equipment! Just give me fresh ingredients and a dream!” to which I will respond with just three words: hand. rolling. pasta. I’ve lived it, people. Let me save you the time and elbow grease and thick retarded noodles and go buy a $25 clip-on pasta roller. I mean it.



6. Cut off a hunk of dough a little bigger than a golf ball, and roll it through the rollers until you’re happy. Flour the dough a lot during the process to de-stickyfy it.
7. Slice the pasta into fettuccine-sized slices, and then lay them over all the available surfaces in your kitchen like a crazy person.
8. Let dry. I left mine alone for about 5 hours, but that’s only because I had something else to occupy my time. You can also pop them in the oven at a VERY VERY VERY low heat for 30 minutes if you’re impatient and hungry.

Step the Second: Sauce

1. Put some flour, salt, and paprika in a little bowl.
2. Cut up some beef in nice bite-sized cubes. Masterchef was very specific about the cut of beef they used, but I prefer the “on sale this week” cut.
3. Cut up some onion and garlic in little small pieces. Slice white mushrooms in fork-friendly sizes.
4. Throw a pretty good amount of oil AND butter (Why both? I’m not sure. They do it a lot on teevee.) in a pan and get it nice and hot.
5. Dredge the beef in the flour and paprika, and throw it in the pan. Let it cook until the fat starts to render and there is a little sizzle on the beef.
6. Toss the onions and garlic into the pan. Cook for 2-3 minutes, then throw the mushrooms in. Cook those for another 2-3 minutes.
7. Add a heaping tablespoon of tomato paste.
8. Turn up the heat, add in quite a bit of stock (this is your main liquid), a little less milk or cream, and a few splashes of alcohol. Beef stock would probably make the most sense, but I ended up with chicken stock and it was fine. My alcohol of choice was red cooking wine, but real red or white wine, or even brandy, would be equally good.
9. Bring the sauce to a boil, then turn down to a simmer. Get your stock and your little bowl of seasoned flour ready, and add whatever you need to get the sauce to the general consistency you want.
10. Season it now as well. I used a good wallop of paprika, a few shakes of nutmeg, and the tiniest pinch of cayenne pepper, along with salt and black pepper. Remember that the sauce will be served over noodles, so the seasonings will mellow out a bit in the eating.

Step the Third: Bringing it all together

1. Boil some salted water. When it’s bubbling, throw in your pasta and set a timer for 3-4 minutes.
2. Once the pasta is on, pull your sauce off the stove or at least turn it down VERY low. Add sour cream. I like creamy stroganoff, so I usually add more than is prudent.
3. I like al dente pasta, but I ended up accidentally overcooking mine until it was soft (but not mushy) and the softness was fantastic together with the sauce. Keep that in mind when you’re cooking it.
4. Sprinkle a little minced parsley on the top.

Et voila: traditional beef stroganoff with parsley pasta. Make little nommy noises while you eat it.

Rough list of ingredients: flour, salt, eggs, milk, oil, butter, beef, onion, garlic, mushrooms, a splash of wine, tomato paste, sour cream, stock, paprika, nutmeg, cayenne pepper, black pepper.

I enjoyed this dish so much that I am having the stroganoff bit (with store-bought noodles) again tonight.

So, okay, sometimes a company can come up with some “innovation” in their product, and I think it’s pretty silly. Like, say, yogurt in a tube. The only kind of tubes I like are the ones that are in a series and fueling the internet. For the public record, I categorically condemn all dairy tubes.

Anyway, enough about tubes, because that is not the point. The point is that 3D television is really stupid and is going to fail so the world should stop telling me to get one.

I devised this hypothesis in the same highly scientific manner that I use for many conclusions: shouting at lifestyle reporters on CNN. A few months ago at some consumer tech conference (CES in January, maybe?) every lifestyle editor in the world seemed to be telling us that 3D televisions are the FUTURE, and the FUTURE IS NOW.

Complaint the first: What are you going to watch on your 3D television? There are a few obvious things that could possibly be improved by 3D vision, in the abstract. Sports, perhaps, if you are a fan. Certain movies. Nature shows, certainly. But what about all the other pablum (and I say that with love)?

I occasionally watch episodes of Hell’s Kitchen, aka “Fox Network’s Fightin’ and Cookin’”. Do I need that in 3D? Oh hell no. Not even a little bit. Do I yearn for Jenny’s giant fake eyelashes to pop out of my screen on Gossip Girl? When Michael Kors reaches up to feel a designer’s fabric choice on Project Runway, do I want his icy, pampered fingers to creep into my home like Samara with a good manicure? I think not.

This brings us to complaint the second: those stupid glasses.

Why the HELL do the consumerism powers-that-be think that something that requires very expensive glasses to use will become commonplace? Here are some questions for ya, smart guys: Will the glasses fit over my prescription? Will I need extra glasses in case friends spontaneously come over to watch something, or will we be expected to carry around our own at all time? Will you replace said glasses when someone sits on them accidentally or my cats eat them?

I am reminded of 2001 when the dude who created the Segway announced that in the future cities would be built around the personal transportation devices. Now Sony is saying that in the future our entertainment areas will be built around dumb glasses. Uh huh. Suuuuure it will.

So in short, dear reader, Jessica does not recommend that you worry about upgrading to 3D technology at home. But hey, kids are still eating yogurt out of tubes so it’s been established that no one listens to me no matter how loudly I yell at the TV.
______________________________________

Speaking of Segways, this fascinating Ask MeFi thread taught me that I’ve been pronouncing “segue” incorrectly my entire life. I’ve been mentally pronouncing it as “seegh”, and just kind of thinking that it must be the root word for “segway”. D’oh.
______________________________________

Here’s the fake trailer from 2007 for the fake movie Machete, which has just been turned into a real movie with a real trailer. I love the addition of Arizona-flavored commentary, but how everything basically stayed the same. You guys, I’m all over this one.

The original Machete trailer was done by Robert Rodriguez for the intermission between Rodriguez’s and Tarantino’s efforts in Grindhouse. If you haven’t seen the movie(s), you still might enjoy the fake trailers, including Edgar Wright’s Don’t, Rob Zombie’s Werewolf Women of the SS, and Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving. The latter is my favorite fake trailer and by far my favorite thing that Roth has ever done (by a long shot).

(Note: Almost all of those trailers feature swearing, blood, and possibly boobs, so don’t watch them at work.)