Monday BARB UP July 31, 2017

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I was 18 when I took my first film theory class at Queens College. Professor Buchsbaum, a thin man with condemning eyebrows; in my nostalgia, he looks like a worn Nick Cave. Professor Buchsbaum had thick wavy black hair, and he often spoke in that steady monotone of beleaguered academics. What he gave me was my introduction to the French New Wave, and specifically, what would become my enduring Francois Truffaut fandom. Jules and Jim was the very first Truffaut film I’d ever seen, and Jeanne Moreau starred in it. As Catherine, she was a free-spirit, indulgent, fun. I wanted to be this woman when I grew up, a woman adored by men, a woman chasing her beat, a woman free. Jeanne Moreau is forever embedded in my impressionable psyche and her imprint upon my life. I suspect today, I will watch Jules et Jim for the umpteenth time, in honor of her life and now, death. RIP Ms. Moreau.

Au revoir, Jeanne Moreau.

Maxine Waters: “Freddie Gray’s family probably wants to know if officers will protect Trump’s head when he is thrown into the back of a paddy wagon.”

Liz Smith remains a figure to be reckoned with. “I was just climbing and electrified all the time. Burning up with ambition. So I don’t want to judge other people too harshly that I see on television. They’re just climbing also. But I like to think that I had some talent.”

Sheryl Sandberg:  “I believe everyone has inside them the ability to lead, and we should let people choose that, not based on gender, but on who they are and who they want to be.”

Valerie Jarrett: “I am a single Black woman and the sole breadwinner in my family. When my daughter was growing up, I felt the emotional and financial strain caused by that incredible responsibility. I was fortunate because my parents were able to help out when needed them, but there are far too many women in our country who do not have a safety net, and who are underpaid.”

GOT Monday with Carice van Houten:  “Suddenly, I was a hero! All of a sudden it was ‘Melisandre for President!’ Before it was just, ‘Die, bitch, die!'”

A sweet memorial for the choreographer Trisha Brown.

The power in your lip shade.


Sex stuff, the squirting edition.

And now have a laugh with Tiffany Haddish.


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