Julie Powell, the woman whose blog and book became the movie Julie & Julia, recently wrote an article about her biggest complaint against the movie: the incorrect depiction of her cat. Fuck yeah.
What we see is not the sardonic, complicated, talented cat of my longtime acquaintance, but a sweet, thin, red-headed doll of a thing who watches old episodes of The French Chef with her head pertly cocked, as if to echo the words of her owner, “Julie Powell,” regarding Julia Child: “Isn’t she adorable?”
Yes, anytime you see a movie where the cat seems to give a shit then you know the screenwriter’s taken poetic license with the story. In which case they should’ve written in a dog instead.
Sadly, Julie mentioned at the beginning of the article that her cat Maxine just died at 17. Sigh. At least that is a good age for a cat; my late cat wasn’t quite 15. Shebang turns 6 this fall.
In other news, this is a month old but I forgot about it: some dude arrested for child pornography on his computer said his cat did it, not him. Yeah, a cat walking across your keyboard is going to open your browser, point it to a pedophilia site, download a bunch of photos and save them all to a particular folder. Totally plausible, sure. Once Mom’s cat Spooky sat on my keyboard and messaged a friend of mine with “mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmSome coherent sentence that I’d copied earlierzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”. Seems her fuzzy butt was capable of a Ctrl-v, but not in operating the touch-pad, so sadly I found no unexpected nudity in my image folders.
That’s it for the cat links this week. Shebang’s going to be so mad at me come Monday, because I’ll be leaving her alone for over 3 days while I spend the long weekend in Vancouver. Hopefully the crazy antics of my neighbours in the parking lot will keep her entertained while I’m gone.
