Showing posts with label Sigmund Freud. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sigmund Freud. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Anthony Bourdain Follows Orson Welles' Footsteps in Declaring War on a Neutral Country, But Did He Get the Wrong One?

In what is quite possibly our favorite film of all time, Carol Reed's The Third Man, Orson Welles famously spoke these self-penned words about Switzerland:


"You know what the fellow said—in Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, they had five hundred years of democracy and peace—and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

Mind you, this was said while in Vienna, Austria.

And now, Anthony Bourdain seemingly wants to outdo Harry Lime himself. From Bourdain's blog:


And finally, this was the episode where I, at last, got to settle the score with Switzerland. Perhaps launching an ICBM at them was a bit much -- but my skin really and truly crawls at even the sight of an Alpine vista. I don't know why exactly. Maybe it has something to do with Helmut, the Swiss/German barber I had to go to as a child. He had one of those wall murals of Lake Geneva with snow capped alps in the background -- and I always associate those images with getting an ugly and humiliating haircut from a stern-looking old guy with a scary German accent. Followed by bullying at school. Even Ricola commercials make me break into a cold sweat.

Lederhosen, Alpine hats, cuckoo clocks, St Bernards, cross country skiers and the Sound of Music make me phsyically ill. They remind me of hair clippings itching my nose, a coiff that would make a middle Brady blush, and the feeling of many tiny little fists in my face as from behind, someone goes for the atomic wedgie . So it was with real joy that I initiated launch sequence. Hell, I ain't ever making a show there anyhow. And their cheese? It sucks.

Achtung, baby! We almost sensed a famous Austrian invitingly patting a leather couch in the great beyond and rubbing his hands at the prospect of such a field day.

We ought to know better, pace that famous Austrian, than to analyze a man's nightmares and jokes, but what the hell? So, Tony, possum, are you quite sure you have the right target in your sights? Because it seems to us that your story is, well, full of holes. (And Gruyère sucks? Really? Isn’t that what goes on the onion soup at your restaurant Les Halles?)

In your list, the only things that could be considered exclusively or prototypically Swiss are St. Bernards and possibly cuckoo clocks. Lederhosen are not exclusive to Switzerland; the Germans have them, and the Austrians have them. Ditto Alpine hats. Cross country skiing seems more Nordic than, say, Alpine skiing, and The Sound of Music, well, there you're just plain wrong. That's Austria, silly, and in the movie the Von Trapps were trying to escape to Switzerland. If we may go all Dr.-Drew-diagnosing-Tom-Cruise on you, we'd say you have a problem with Teutons.

And yet, what's this?


Why, it's you in the German capital. So, you'll go to Berlin but you won't set foot in der Schweiz? Tony, Tony, what gives? Show us on the doll where the bad barber touched you.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Sigmund Freud Rolls in Grave as Drunken Groupie Answers Age-Old Question

As you may know, possums, once upon a time Sigmund Freud asked the most profound question in our history as a species: Was will das Weib? What do women want?

Sad to think that one answer to that might just be: Spike Mendelsohn.

To wit:

[Spike] Mendelsohn says the exposure for him [from Top Chef] was tremendous, despite the drunken groupie who climbed up the side of his apartment building one night. (He says he put her in a cab and sent her home.)

Straight women of America, enlighten us, please.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Tidbits for the Womenfolk of Christendom

















Apropos of absolutely nothing, possums, we start off with the following infamous quote from literary theorist Sigmund Freud:

"The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is 'What does a woman want?'"

Now, on to business:

* Eater's Ben Leventhal is sponsoring a contest to win a date with Sam Talbot, and getting called "douchey" for his pains.

* Tre Wilcox--the man who worked out obsessively during the show, whose first words to the other cheftestants after being eliminated were that he was going back to the gym early, who seemed to live in wife beaters, and who said, during the Roach Coach challenge, that once people got a look at his "guns," they would want to bypass Brian Malarkey's facile charms and get in the back with him--is telling New York Magazine, "I didn’t really think that people would see me on TV and think that I looked good." Such disingenuousness is as hard to swallow as that cured salmon apparently was.

According to Raggaydy Andy, Tre says "that it's hard being married with all the attention he's getting." However, Tre clarifies in New York Magazine, "I don’t expect to be divorcing my wife and running off with a Top Chef fan anytime soon." (emphasis added by us.) Does this mean there's hope for the patient homewrecker/Top Chef fan?

Friday, July 20, 2007

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Marcel Vigneron: Bizarre Love Triangle














Like herpes, the folie à deux that is the relationship between Marcel Vigneron and Ilan Hall is truly the gift that keeps on giving. Though we are faithfully delving into our Freud, Jung and Lacan, and will concoct a cherry jubilee of an armchair psychologist's explanation for the seething, simmering, scintillating tsuris, here is a snippet from Raggaydy Andy's interview with Marcel that may go a long way toward explaining things:
Another thing is that a lot of them are two-faced to me. In the first episode, Ilan and I were showing each other our knives, he was interested in my knives and asking me questions about my knives and how to keep them from rusting. I got home and watch the first episode and he's calling me out! I couldn't believe it. Does that answer your question in a roundabout way? I can't totally put my finger on it because I think I am a likeable guy.
In parting, Mia Gaines-Alt told Cliff to "put [his] dick away," but it looks like she was aiming her comments in the wrong direction. Wasn't this a whole subplot in Heathers? Hell truly hath no fury....