Clint Eastwood’s Very Subjective Concept of Beauty
[Guest post by Aaron Worthing; if you have tips, please send them here. Or by Twitter @AaronWorthing.]
Since we are talking about beauty inside and outside, objective and subjective, I suddenly remembered this scene from Clint Eastwood’s White Hunter, Black Heart (its mildly NSFW for language):
I previously used that bit in my send off to Helen Thomas whom, let’s face it, is both objectively and subjectively uuuuuugly.
[Posted and authored by Aaron Worthing.]
Clint Eastwood’s mom wore gym shorts and smelled like elderberries
/Kman
DohBiden (15aa57) — 5/17/2011 @ 2:16 pmHelen Thomas is black? And all this time I thought she was Palestinian….
Just kidding.
SteveG (cc5dc9) — 5/17/2011 @ 2:30 pmClearly the observed subjects were not shown Helen or the little charts on that research paper would look mighty different
Helen Thomas is black?
Please do not ever mention Helen Thomas without the word paper bag.
DohBiden (15aa57) — 5/17/2011 @ 2:50 pmI’ve never been able to look at Helen Thomas long enough to figure out what her hyphenated-American status was.
I think she’s humanoid, though.
And Clint’s little monologue was beautiful. Can’t say I’ve seen the film.
Dustin (c16eca) — 5/17/2011 @ 2:54 pmHe was portraying John Huston during the making of African Queen.
Mike K (8f3f19) — 5/17/2011 @ 3:22 pmShe’s Lebanese and didn’t look all that bad back many years ago. Saw a nude shot of Betty White as a youth and not shabby at all. I think helen though be a two-bag woman, one for her and one for you in case hers falls off. Anyone recall an old Twilight Zone episode where it turns out a woman is upset because she doesn’t look like the ugly inhabitants of her planet but rather something on the order of a Sharon Tate.
Calypso Louie Farrakhan (d36a3f) — 5/17/2011 @ 3:24 pmRosie O’donnell believes in gun control but has an armed fricking bodyguard.
Al Gore believes in gorebull warming but uses his airplanes and SUVs.
Helen Thomas is a bigoted beeyatch but decries islamophobia.
DohBiden (15aa57) — 5/17/2011 @ 3:49 pmGreetings:
Back in the late seventies, I was living and working in Manhattan. A woman in the office gave my sweetheart and I a pair of tickets to a Clint Eastwood retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art. He was to talk about his art, career, and show his new film comedy, “Bronco Billy”. My sweetheart was a fairly big Eastwood fan, I think because he looked somewhat like me, so, the evening looked very much like a win-win-win opportunity for me.
About that time, Mr. Eastwood had left his wife and the mother of his children to take up with a blonde actress, British I think, who was his co-star in the film to be shown. This bit of information did not seem to have much impacted the largely female audience. Eventually, the theater lights began to dim and the film began to roll. As the initial credits began to roll, I was overwhelmed by an emotion that I had not felt since Sister Mary Evangelista’s fourth grade class in the Bronx. As the co-star/paramour’s name inched from the bottom of the screen to the top, I let out that kind of a hiss that the good Sister was never quite able to locate in her classroom.
Unfortunately for Mr. Eastwood, the female members of his audience needed no more than that little audio push to break through their thin veneers of civility. TA=DA
11B40 (ece45d) — 5/17/2011 @ 6:22 pmNothing to do with Clint, just a touch of beauty for a Wednesday morning.
angeleno (ec0b60) — 5/18/2011 @ 7:50 am