Last Saturday was the series finale of Pushing Daisies here in America. Originally there would have been two more episodes, but ABC (those bitches) cut it prematurely, so they re-filmed the last 5 or so minutes to close loose ends. To mourn the loss of the best show on broadcast television, not only can you buy the compete series as soon as it comes out, you can also read these quotes I've compiled.
Emerson: Well, that idea just made a stupid idea feel better about itself.
Olive (to Randy): Sorry if I was sending you mixed messages. But, you know, messages are like nuts. Who wants all the same kind? Mixed is the best. (nervous laughter)
Narrator: The pie-maker helped his friends in need. Not by pretending he was something he was not, but by embracing the very thing he always was. It gave him a feeling of joy he would later liken to leaping tall buildings in a single bound.
[Ned and Emerson standing in front of Sister LaRue's body]
Ned: I'm not sure how I feel about doing this... here... with her [Indicating the Statue of Mary]... and him. [Indicating Jesus on the crucifix]
Emerson: Well it ain't like he ain't never done it before; remember Lazarus?
Emerson: The truth ain't like puppies, a bunch of them running around, you pick your favorite. One truth and it has come knocking.
Ned: Is this a bad idea? Olive as a client? It's a little bit too close for comfort.
Emerson: Oh, hang on a second. Let me ask the money. [holds hand up to ear like a telephone]
Hey, money, it's me, Emerson.
I'm good, I'm good. Yeah. Thanks for asking. Say, can I still pay my bills and buy stuff with you, even though you was Olive's money first? Uh huh.
Ned: Wait.
Emerson: [still talking, laughs.] Yeah. OK, then. Thanks! [puts hand down] The money don't care. Touch him.
Chuck: What? You love secrets; you want to marry secrets and have little half-secret, half-human babies.
Emerson: I'm not God, but if I was, I'd be an angry God.
Olive: Get out. This is a pie shop, not an herbal crack den.
[Olive talking to Digby (the dog), Digby licking Olive's hand]
Narrator: As Olive considered how much she loved Digby for paying attention to her when the pie-maker would not, Digby considered how much he loved salt.
Emerson: Sounds like you're narcoleptic.
Ned: I suffer from sudden and uncontrollable attacks of deep sleep?
Emerson: What's the other one?
Ned: Necrophiliac.
Emerson: Words that sound alike get mixed up inside my head.
Olive: Me too. I used to think that masturbation meant chewing your food. [Pause, everyone stares] I don't think that anymore.
Narrator: Exactly one mile to the west, Emerson Cod was also not thrilled. During times of stress or anxiety, he liked to knit. Since the arrival of the dead girl who was not dead, he found the stockinette stitch relaxing.
[later]
Chuck: Is he [Emerson] upset you brought your childhood sweetheart back to life?
Ned: He barely knows you're here.
Narrator: But in fact, Emerson had already finished knitting a sweater vest and two handgun cozies in the week since Chuck's return.
Ned: "Maurice" and "Rolston"?
Chuck: You didn't even know their names?
Ned: You know, I'm glad Dad got so fun and creative with naming after he left us. "Goodbye, Ned. Hello, Mercutio and Ribald."
Narrator: The firm of Cod & Cod dedicated itself to the pursuit of truth at all costs... a pursuit the young Emerson found "badass."
Olive: [when checking into nunnery and told to sacrifice her belongings to the church] But I like my belongings. That's why they belong to me.
Vivian: It was her father's. I'm sure it's teeming with fungus and microscopic bugs that feed on flakes of human skin, but she was fond of it.
Olive: These nuns aren't my people. Unless you're telling me "flibbertigibbet" is a title of respect.
Olive: I am a sawed-off shotgun full of secrets.
Olive: Look carefully, ladies, this is your future.
Lily: Is it vodka?
Olive: Water.
Lily: As in Russian for vodka?
Vivian: Lily doesn't believe in water anymore. She thinks it's a waste of a perfectly good tumber.
Every once in awhile I'll pull out the old Pushing Daisies quote book and we can reminisce through this underread blog. Care to join me?
Let's Dance is almost 2 separate songs: the strange, yet commercial and danceable, single version (first widget on the bottom) and the incredibly bizarre club-bounce album version (second). Don't be afraid to like the single version better, though; even classic rock stations that always play the album version if there is one play the single version of this one. The single version, which even Bowie would agree is the real song, opens with a Beatlesque rising vocal harmony, segueing into a high-bass, Chic-inspired, segmented stomp with synthesized, distorted brass alternating with a deliciously funky bass riff. It is then followed with a heavily echoed, phased, everything'ed vocal trade-off of the Beatlesque backup singers wailing "Let's dance" with Bowie crooning "Put on your red shoes and dance the blues." Vocals, songwriting, instrumentation is all exellent. It's obviously a product of the musically gilded '80s, but it is definitely one of the best products, showcasing the instruments and vocals in a non-sickening way, which is better than most '80s songs could be said to do. Also, instead of just using the drum machine because he can, Bowie's drum machine on this song aids the melody and texture of the song.
That's right! Not only did I nix my 1978 movies idea, my delusions of grandeur forced me to do my first top 10 list! [If you're reading this now, it's 11] Actually, it was not my delusions, but rather that there are so many great Bowie songs that I found it hard to choose just 5. From 1982's rather disappointing album Let's Dance, it was one of a barrage of three excellent songs at the beginning of the album, followed by lukewarm commercially-driven Chic-inspired dance offerings. Also on that album was a sterilized, absolutely terrible remake of his amazing soundtrack song Cat People, which to this day makes me about puke whenever I hear the remake.
