I just listened to Magic this morning during my run.

Emily.

You rock. The choreography. The choreography was absolutely stunning in its sucky inappropriateness. How about the enormous black chick with the black and white dress and the white flower in her hair? LIke ... what? She was so distracting - but MAN, was she dancing her heart out! And the REALLY gay soldier doing back flips ... I know he was supposed to be an homage to Gene and Frank in On the Town, but sorry, dude, you emanate gay-ness - and ... the random woman being held up by a group of men and swimming by?? Like: how on earth is that supposed to be evocative of the 1940s era? Seriously.

LOVAH
I WON'T TAKE A BACK SEAT
TONIIIGHT

Dude, fine, you won't take a backseat. But stop shouting at me please.

The OUTFITS of the "rock and roll band" ... they looked like some sort of strange nuclear-waste-removal team - and the studio 54/Danny Terrio type choreography ... and all the Aquanet involved ... it kinda made me vomit in my mouth a little bit.

And now, of course, I have to go watch it again.

I've always been especially fond of the Tubes bit that have that creepy "this is what I want bitch and I won't take no for an answer" tone, especially in contrast to the delicate, nostalgic Olivia Newton-John part. Um, yeah. There's a word for guys like that.

If I were Samuel Taylor Coleridge's ghost, I would have been doing some poltergeist activities on the Xanadu set.

Oh my, that sounds like a Scooby-Doo episode...

Waitaminnit - don't lovers naturally take to the back seat? Hello, mixed signals...

Heh, haunting the Xanadu set! "Why, it's not the ghost of Coleridge - it's Wilson, the key grip!"