THINGS THAT NEED TO GO AWAY RIGHT NOW, VOL. 16
Thimbles. What are they for? I bought a sewing kit the other day to mend my pants and it came with a little plastic thimble. I didn't know what to do with it, so I put it aside and mended my pants without using the thimble, and it turned out fine. At least, so far it's turned out fine. Maybe my stitch job will come apart in the next few days, and passersby will sneer and say, "Didn't use the thimble, didja?" and I'll have to be all sheepish and say, "No, I didn't know what it was for." And then everyone will have a good laugh at my expense and throw stones at my face and groin. If all this could be avoided by banning entirely the use and manufacture of thimbles, then I'm all for it. I'll push for a constitutional amendment if I have to.
I'd like the record to reflect that I have nothing against the word "thimble." It's a good word and that plosive "b" in the middle gives it a nifty rhythm. Once we ban thimbles (the objects), we ought to reassign "thimble" (the word) to mean something new. I vote for making it a slang term for "clitoris."
The allegedly humorous put-down "Would you like some cheese with that whine?" If you thought of it first, good for you. But you didn't, so knock it off. It's annoying and hackneyed and it wasn't that clever in the first place.
People saying, "I could care less," to indicate they don't care about something. When you say you could care less, what you are saying is you do care to some degree -- otherwise it wouldn't be possible for you to care less. You should say "I couldn't care less." This indicates that your current level of caring is zero, and it is not possible for you to care any less, as a level of caring cannot be assigned a negative value.
The Dossier Method of establishing characters in movies, used to irritating effect in Contact, The Silence of the Lambs, Con Air, and Major League, among many other films. Here's a made-up example:
MAJ. BROCK STEELE: Maj. Brock Steele reporting for duty, sir.
GEN. DIRK STONE: Yes, Major, welcome. [Opens a manila folder on his desk.] Let's see, Brock Steele... born July 4, 1971, in Mechanicsville, Pennsylvania. High school valedictorian and star athlete, graduated a year early. Scored a perfect 1600 on the SAT. Entered West Point in 1988. Starred in wrestling and football -- I was there that day you returned that interception 94 yards to beat Navy. That was good work.
BS: Thank you, sir.
DS: Extensive research at the Academy in mathematics, cryptology, and computer science. Graduated third in your class in 1992. You could have taken a cush job breaking codes, but instead you entered Special Forces training and displayed an aptitude for... behind-the-scenes combat. You've been involved in several classified missions over the last decade, and have never failed to complete your objectives. Flawless reports from all your commanding officers. [Closes folder.] And now you're going to come to work for me.
I hate the Dossier Method. It's lazy and overused and I won't stand for it. Screenwriters like it because it allows them to get on with the plot and avoid the hard work of building fleshed-out characters. Of course, the characters they end up with have all the personality of day-old plain oatmeal, but who cares? It all about putting butts in the seats anyway.
+posted by Lawrence @ 11/22/2004 11:29:00 PM
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