Monday, February 28, 2005

Softer than satin was the light

I'm Drew Barrymore. My pose is to illustrate my seriousness as an actress, producer, and reformed pre-pubescent booze hound. To my left, Dorothy Valens playing the part of Annette Funicello as Cruella De Vil. The Oscars may have sucked, but a picture like this, makes it all worth while. Better than best. (via The J)

I Am Douche

I have zero energy on this Monday morning. I can't get all that upset about the Oscars (or Marty's Lucci impersonation, Gil Cates' aversion to seat fillers, ABC's fear of insulting Native Americans and the disabled with a song by Marc Shaiman, Louis Gossett Jr. snoring through Sidney Lumet's lifetime achievement award, etc.), because, well, they're the Oscars. But on a broadcast where particular nominees were put in their place, made to accept their award as Ms. New Jersey might or, better yet, in the aisle, with the sale section in the Hollywood & Highland GAP being considered for next year's show (oooh, cheap belts and Visual Effects nominee John Dykstra!!), Sean Penn, Hollywood's most humorless actor, took offense to a joke at Jude Law's expense. This being the 339th award show of the season, Sean Penn felt it necessary to employ the head push in the 6 month fellat-athon that is awards season. Boo-urns.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

Who are you wearing?

  • You Got Rolled(!): Malcolm Lee brings us You Got Served with rollerskates! It's not about awkward pubescent mating rituals, braces, how every thirteen year old boy basically is a lizard with hair, hot Jewish girls exclusively into goyim, the chicken dance, liquid nacho cheese, or Debbie Gibson. It's about competetive roller skating. Hopefully, this will lead to a trend where other studios/production companies perceive old school roller skating to be hot, and multiple films about the topic are made at the same time. Competetive roller skating is the new motorcycle racing.

  • There's even more positivity over at Knickerblogger on the deadline deals. I agree with the theory that what's good about the deal is Isaiah's decision to build through the draft, considering his skill at drafting, but I can't help but think the positivity is the last refuge of the desperate and beleaguered. The team still added two useless players for the purposes of acquiring end of the first round draft choices, and rid themselves of nothing cumbersome at all. They didn't get rid of an ugly contract, of which they have many. I know that this task is difficult, if not impossible, but the purpose of doing what they did still seems mysterious. Of course, I have hope that the picks will turn out to be quality, as in Isaiah's drafting of Ariza, but I can't help but think these two trades are not the end of Isaiah's inability to sit still. What other wretched contracts will he add, in order to...make the playoffs? "Bernardo," the Roy Tarpley of blog commenters, will surely respond to another mention of the Knicks with more Knicks bashing. I know they suck, dude. This isn't news.

  • I just vomited on myself.

  • Tomorrow, the Oscars. All in all, I don't care that much. I don't have a film I'm really pulling for. Marty won't win. I know it. I'm over it. I just hope Charlie wins and lets a sweatpants clad Nicolas Cage accept on his behalf. But, thank G-O-D, Morgan has Direct TV, which means the TV Guide channel, which means Joan and Melissa. Huzzah!

  • Super size me.

  • Fanboy: Alyson Hannigan will return for two more episodes of the best show no one watches, Veronica Mars. Seriously, watch it. (via AICN)

  • Friday, February 25, 2005

    End(s) of the Week

  • A Scanner Darkly draft from Charlie Kauffman? (via Persistence of Vision)

  • Let's go exploring: It's waking up early for school, eating Eggo waffles, and reading the comics page of the Sun-Sentinel all over again. Get your Calvin and Hobbes fix on. (via Ending East)

  • Xtina will suck your blood.

  • "What's in the PuPu?"

  • Silver Lining: Knickerblogger doesn't panic, takes a deep breath, and assesses the trade deadline moves made by Isaiah. He's more positive than I am, and certainly more positive than "Bernardo."

  • Ted, it's pointless to have a triumphant video before we even have decent instruments.

    One of the Buseys, depending on how mean you want to be, should play Lars. But I have a feeling it'll end up being Alex Winter:
    Napster: The Shawn Fanning Bio Project: A Northeastern University student creates Napster, a program that allows his fellow students to swap music files on the internet. He later drops out of school to launch Napster as an online business, prompting lawsuits from the Recording Industry Assn. of America, Dr. Dre and Metallica.

    Writer: Bill S. Preston, Esq.

    Buyer: Paramount Pictures and MTV Films. Originally set up at MTV as a television project.
    (Via Done Deal)

    (C)able Vision

    Dear Mr. Dolan,

    I have not enjoyed your time as owner of the New York Knicks. I want to be clear on this point. Allow me to clarify. I've enjoyed the following more than each and every second that you've owned the Knicks:
  • The time I ate a peppercorn burger at the Copley Square Chili's before seeing Almost Famous, and got explosive diarrhea that ruined 1/3 - 1/2 of my viewing experience.

  • My 52 months as G. Gordon Liddy's cellmate in Danbury Federal.

  • Spending 8-9 hours in my car after Coachella, stuck in various forms of traffic (parking lot, local roads, freeways), and eating a meal at Jack-in-the-Box under green flourescents, which convinced me that I was surely eating the next killer sandwich on Jack's menu.

  • My brief time as Donna Brazile's "yes man," during the 2000 presidential election.

  • Sex with your wife.
  • I hope that the clarity with which I've provided you, will allow for clarity on your part. Your general manager, Isaiah Thomas, is the league's worst. He had an obvious problem, and instead of doing one single thing to solve it, he's made it worse. Yesterday, for reasons unknown to anyone living or dead, he added $32 million to an already preposterously bloated payroll, in the form of two undersized and overpaid power forwards and two bottom of the first round draft picks, all the while trading away the only true center with any known skills since the unceremonious dumping of Patrick Ewing and some potential cap relief by way of soon to be expiring contracts.

    James. Jimmy. Face facts. The flashy hiring was a bad, bad, bad, absolutely terrible, unbelievably awful decision. Get it together, take a deep breath, and fire Isaiah. Do it. Now.

    Tim Aaron

    Thursday, February 24, 2005

    Aiken For It

    Ear delicious:
    Which squeaky clean American Idol star has a penchant for sex with African-American male prostitutes? So far the velvet-tongued crooner has managed to conceal his proclivities from his middle-of-the-road female fanbase, but unfortunately one of his favourite bits of rent is threatening to go public.

    Wednesday, February 23, 2005


    Ted Leo, Ben, and each and every last one of us (even you, Guarini) must admit it. Kelly Clarkson's new single is the hotness. (Not that it requires much effort, as her last single wasn't too bad either. Obvs.) Ted says it:
    I just don't know, man. I'm falling apart. The new Kelly Clarkson single, "Since U Been Gone" (which I first thought was going to be a Prince cover, which I then thought would be a smart move on her part, but which thought I was quickly then disabused of, but which disabusing I was not upset by, because I sucked into the damn hook immediately), is unarguably good. No -- stop it -- don't even try! It's unarguable. I see early retirement staring back at me from the reflection in the pickups on my guitar. :(
    That's that, mattress man.


    L.A.'s Indie 103.1 may not be long for this earth:
    It all has to do with caps on how many radio stations one company can control in a market. As you know, Clear Channel sells ad time on KDLD/KDLE Indie 103.1, which is actually owned by Spanish-language station owner Entravision. Because Clear Channel already owns eight stations in Los Angeles, it appears that the station owner will eventually have to divest of the joint sales agreement, or JSA, it has with Entravision to sell the station's time. (JSAs originally didn't count toward that total -- but under revised ownership and attribution rules, they now do.)

    Once that happens, it's highly unlikely Entravision will continue the Indie 103.1 format -- at least, so goes the prevailing opinion in the radio community. Entravision will likely sell the frequency, given its weak penetration in East Los Angeles and other Spanish-speaking areas.
    The cruel twist of supporting regulations on media ownership. (via Hit and Run)

    Monday, February 21, 2005

    I'll Stop the World and Melt With You

    Her vagina will cut you:
    Tongues are wagging about the recent intimate dinners between actor and frequent "Hardball" guest Ron Silver and leggy, blond, right-wing pundit Ann Coulter. The two were spotted dining together twice in recent weeks. The other night they were at Elio's, and a Lowdown spy said, "They looked like they were on a date." Silver threw cold water on any romantic speculation. "I'm deeply interested in slander and I needed to know how to talk to a liberal," Silver quipped, having fun with the titles of two of Coulter's best-selling books. Coulter, meanwhile, E-mailed: "Ron Silver is a great American, but Matt Drudge is my only true love!" I hear elsewhere that Silver and Coulter have been talking about co-hosting a television show.
    In 1994's Timecop, Ron Silver plays McComb, the villain to Jean Claude Van Damme's I-can-do-splits-on-your-countertop hero. There's plenty of time travelling shenanigans, where in if Silver shares space with his parallel universe self, they both melt and die. With this theory as the only basis for my well wishes, I hope Ann and Ron are very happy together and that their possible canoodling leads to one or both of them melting into a useless pile of goo, which is in no way meant to mean that one of them should turn into Ann's one "true love."

    Sunday Night is not Sunday Night

    No predictable lament on the wretchedness of Monday morning. No uncontrollable depression. No wistful conversations about quitting. No sepia toned nostalgia, mixed with an umpteenth viewing of Wonder Boys, mixed with a few too many mixed drinks, in order to numb the pain of knowing that the very next morning, it's five days until you don't have to dread the next one. Nope. Just four this week, bitch. Four. One less than five. Yuh. Thanks to Richard M. Nixon, Herbert Hoover, Chester A. Arthur, and Gerald Ford, I don't have work tomorrow. 1-2-3...HUZZAH.

    Sunday, February 20, 2005

    Super Best

    It's late Sunday night. Stop what you're doing, i.e. checking out your specially selected bondo porno sites while watching repeats of The Real World/The Osbournes/Newlyweds and/or Googling that one ex-girlfriend who you hope has started blogging and may or may not mention you in one or more blog entries. Stop. That. Right. Now. No more fake photos of Liz Hurley tied to a tree dressed like Wonder Woman. At least for a moment. Go to goldenfiddle and get all the my-phone-was-jacked-though-I-probably-just-left-it-somewhere-because-I-was-too-busy-doing-blow-off-toilet-seats dirt on the one, the only P. Hilton. Bijou Phillips' voice mail message is scrumtrelescent. You can return to late Sunday night bondo porno trolling. Right. Now.

    Quote of the Day

    "That was the mature version of the sweet kid from pictures like Diner and Footloose - do you remember, let alone believe, that daft diversion in which Kevin was a hip city kid who introduces dancing to a weird, non-musical outpost of Utah society? It was Kevin and Lori Singer as the two kids in love with cutting a rug, and John Lithgow was the patriarch who regards dancing as the devil's work. Footloose was a big hit and research insists that it was made in the 20th (and not the 18th) century. Today, however, as alternatives to evolution work their way through the American curriculum its modernity becomes horribly clear." - David Thomson, on Kevin Bacon

    Heaven and Hell

    In Constantine, Peter Stormare plays Satan, or the grown up child of Ingmar Bergman's Persona + Jean Paul Gaultier + Britney Spears in Francis Lawrence's I'm a Slave 4 U video, prone to licking objects and/or people around her. It's strange and hilarious and much more aware and alive than much anything else in the film, save, maybe, for Tilda Swinton as the angel Gabriel, all her lines tossed off without a hint of effort, pitched against Keanu's leaden monotone. There isn't much else to say about Constantine. It's just not bad enough to say much more. How sad. You're not good, you're not mediocre, and you're not awful. You aren't a word. You're a shrug, an eye roll or a "m'eh." That's purgatory, right?

    Kevin Spacey Strikes Again

    Sandra Dee has died at the age of 63. Beyond the sea, somewhere...

    Sunday is Saturday

  • Broken glass everywhere: Why didn't The New Republic send someone to CPAC? Oh, that's right. (via Hit and Run)

  • That toy lion you get in your Happy Meal. Yeah, it's Jesus. Or, David Kehr on how Disney plans to promote Aslan and The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. Or nerd out and buy the super best originals as first seen on the BBC and PBS.

  • "Let's Go Bang," by which I mean dance, not fuck: Mrs. Brisby of The Secret of NIMH doesn't want her boyfriend to think she's a prude. He actually liked it better when he knew nothing about her and she wore sweaters with the sleeves too long. But Mrs. Brisby insists. She's breaking out the lingerie.

  • Saturday, February 19, 2005

    Weekend (+1). Thank you, Millard Fillmore.

    For Spencer.
  • Trailer Park: Agent Mulder narration + Robin Williams as retarded/challenged best friend + Tea Leoni as shrill mom (again, my friend) + Erykah Badu as sage inmate (Morgan Freeman was booked) + Franny and Zooey bathtub scene turned into shower scene = David Duchovny's House of D. The continuing adventures of Cole Hauser's career self-immolation, aka The Cave. And the international version of the Lost In Space Fantastic Four trailer.

  • Un-cancelled?: Apparently Bettman and the NHL Players Union determined that the puck hit Gary's mom's car before going in, clearly calling for a do-over, despite protestations that such goals have always counted, no matter if they hit a car or the rim of the sewer . After a few exchanges of "fuck you" and/or "your mom," the two sides have finally agreed that goals should never count in such cases and that a do-over will always be called. So, when they said the other day that the season had been cancelled, what they really meant to yell was "DO OVER." 28 regular season games and all the playoffs? My puck is glowing red.

  • Ann Coulter at CPAC: Barbara Boxer is "learning disabled" (mmmkay), Ted Kennedy killed a chick (this joke is for Ann, what watermelons are to Gallagher), if we can't have our favorite former Klansman, the liberals can't have Ward Churchill (the common argument from people like David Horowitz, when it comes to David Duke, is that the key point is not that Duke was a Klansman like Robert Byrd, but that he was a Democrat first and no one said a peep. Okay. Great. He was still a Klansman right? And doesn't criticizing the Democrats for not saying anything when he was in their midst nullify any defense of allowing him to join the Republican party and/or run for office and/or speak at colleges. I mean, if it was wrong for the Democrats to only criticize him when he ran as a Republican because he had been a Democrat expose that it's essentially shitty to support Duke in any form. Or am I just being too fair and balanced?). Oh, and I'd be remissed to remind y'all that McCarthyism gets Ann wet. Like so wet and crazed with desire that she convinces herself that Drudge might turn. (via Hit and Run)

  • "Crime" in The D:
    He painted Eve as God created her: nude.

    And when he finished including the bare-bosomed Biblical first woman, he inscribed the word "love" on the mural that covers the outside wall of his Roseville art studio.

    In Ed (Gonzo) Stross' eyes, his variation on Michelangelo's "Creation of Man" mural is art.

    In 39A District Judge Marco Santia's eyes, it's a crime.

    Santia ordered jail time, a fine and probation -- a sentence that sounds a little harsh to a state senator, the American Civil Liberties Union of Michigan and fellow artists.

    Santia ordered Stross, 43, to serve 30 days in jail, do two years' probation and pay a $500 fine for violating a city sign ordinance. Roseville officials said letters were prohibited on the mural and Eve's exposed chest is indecent.

    Besides jail time and the fee, Stross is to tastefully cover Eve's breasts before reporting to the Macomb County Jail on Monday morning, and to paint over "love" by May 1.
    If you made a movie about this and other incidents like it, the villain would most appropriately be Nanny from The Muppet Babies, her green and white striped leggings haunting us all. (Via Buzz Machine)

  • Living on the West End: Charlie Kauffman and the Coen Bros. Hotness. (via MCN)

  • New reasons for Howard Stern fans to hate Chaunce.

  • Friday, February 18, 2005

    Quote of the Day

    "I am, admittedly, still in a slow-simmering rage that my beloved party has chosen the toad from Vermont to lead us. With his bulldog demeanor, Jack-Nicholson-As-The-Joker grin, and profound inability to communicate any kind of message to the American people other than his insanity, it would seem to me that Barbra Streisand would be a better choice. Perhaps even a half-eaten Egg McMuffin or Buster the Bunny." - "Republican phony," Our Man in Fagistan, Joshua Gibson (And, please, please do yourself a favor and read the comments section of Josh's piece. The Deaniacs are gwumpy. C'mon, guys. You actually won something this time. Granted, you didn't have any competition, not even from those who "cook with grease" or sport mangy beards and urge us to see The Day After Tomorrow for helpful hints on book burning when the temperature drrrrrrrops.)

    Thursday, February 17, 2005

    Quote of the Day

    "Meet the put-upon conservative coed, the prototype pushed by conservative feminists to demonstrate liberal bias on college campuses. We'll call her Claire. Claire doesn't want any part of this vulgar spectacle known as The Vagina Monologues, but her Feminine Mystique-touting, Germaine Greer-quoting friends are tying her to a chair and making her watch. She desperately wants to be chaste, but condom-peddling feminists are driving her to her knees at the frathouse next door. She really just wants to be a mom, but her mentors in the gender studies department say that's just not acceptable. Claire may or may not exist, but there is a whole movement dedicated to setting her free." - Kerry Howley, Reason

    Wednesday, February 16, 2005

    Love that Joker

    Put on a happy face...

    Fergie has...

    Fuck. Shit. Piss.

    The Broadcast Decency Enforcement Act of 2005 was passed by the House today, 389-38. The thirty eight lawmakers (36 Democrats, 1 Independent, 1 Republican) who voted against this nonsense:
  • Neil Abercrombie (D, HI)
  • Gary Ackerman (D, NY)
  • Brian Baird (D, WA)
  • Howard Berman (D, CA)
  • William Lacy Clay, Jr. (D, MO)
  • John Conyers (D, MI)
  • Bill Delahunt (D, MA)
  • Sam Farr (D, CA)
  • Chaka Fattah (D, PA)
  • Barney Frank (D, MA)
  • Raul M. Grijalva (D, AZ)
  • Jane Harman (D, CA)
  • Alcee Hastings (D, FL)
  • Maurice Hinchey (D, NY)
  • Mike Honda (D, CA)
  • Dennis Kucinich (D, OH)
  • Barbara Lee (D, CA)
  • John Lewis (D, GA)
  • Zoe Lofgren (D, CA)
  • Jim McDermott (D, WA)
  • Jerrold Nadler (D, NY)
  • Major Owens (D, NY)
  • Ron Paul (R, TX)
  • Donald Payne (D, NJ)
  • Martin Olav Sabo (D, MN)
  • Linda T. Sanchez (D, CA)
  • Bernie Sanders (I, VT)
  • Jan Schakowsky (D, IL)
  • Bobby Scott (D, VA)
  • Jose Serrano (D, NY)
  • Brad Sherman (D, CA) (My congressman.)
  • Pete Stark (D, CA)
  • Nydia Velázquez (D, NY)
  • Debbie Wasserman Schultz (D, FL)
  • Maxine Waters (D, CA)
  • Diane Watson (D, CA)
  • Henry Waxman (D, CA)
  • Lynn Woolsey (D, CA)
  • (Via Buzz Machine)

    Tuesday, February 15, 2005


    Paris reminds us that she has a vagina. (NSFW) (via f.u.b.a.r.)

    Formatted to Fit

    It took no time at all for the "active rock" void left by WZTA to be filled. WPYM 93.1 has moved from its dance format to an "active rock" format. As of 6 p.m. EST, the station stopped playing trance and freestyle dance.
    Producers tried to spice up the dance format recently, playing more of the freestyle music that was very popular on the South Florida dance scene in the late 1980s and early 1990s. But he said Cox wanted to pounce on the rock format Zeta abandoned last week before any other local station did so. Unlike Zeta, Disney said the new rock format will focus on '90s-era rock, which he called "active rock," and some '80s rock but will not delve into classic rock
    Now, as much as we here at the OV like things upbeat and rhythmic and will miss the freestyle dance rhythms and upbeat trance stylings of Party 93.1, we can't deny the benefits of all things "active." The past is deader than the FM dial, and when you're dead, you're not active. The problem with the dance format, according to station general manager Michael Disney:
    "It wasn't so much that there was something wrong with it. We had an awful lot of people who listened to the station, and they didn't listen as long as we liked."
    I think Disney overestimates the power of trance. (via Big Loo)

    Good Idea, Bad Idea

    Mallory from Real World: Paris in the SI Swimsuit Issue. Hot enough to make me hold off on discussing the wretchedness of the Philadelphia cast and/or my plot to MOAB all of them, 'specially Shavonda. Bitch, are you fo real? See what I did there?

    And in other news: The Deborah Debbie Gibson Playboy spread. The not hotness.


    94.9 WZTA was south Florida's KROQ when I was in high school (nu metal, AC/DC and Van Halen flashbacks, pop punk, much too much Offspring, etc.). I think it even had a morning zoo. Yesterday, at 2 p.m., it became WMGE and now sports a Top 40 "Hurban" format. "Hurban" was created by everyone's favorite fascists at Clear Channel. "Hurban":
    The bilingual format combines Spanish Hip-Hop, Raggaeton and Pop/Dance music, targets the 18 to 34 demographic, and fills a void for the nearly half of U.S. Hispanic youths who prefer upbeat, rhythmic music but could until now only listen to American Hip-Hop.
    We here at the OV never much liked WZTA or its format and consistently gravitate towards all things upbeat and rhythmic. Oh, by the way, radio's almost dead. Send flowers now before you forget. (via Coolfer)

    Quote of the Day

    "You know what would be a good TV show? A reality show where Isiah Thomas runs something into the ground every year. One year, it could be a sports league or a cable-TV network. The next year, a movie studio. The year after that, a record company. The year after that, a third-world country. And so on. We could call it 'The Midas Touch.'" - The Sports Guy, on the man in charge of the Knicks

    Aspirational v. Euro-American

    Joel Kotkin offers up a new slant on the whole "Two Americas" argument. It has much less to do with red or blue and much more to do with green. It's been hated on and vigorously defended by Josh's boyfriend, Reihan Salam, at the American Scene. The most intriguing portion of Kotkin's argument, to me, is his take on housing prices, housing construction, and the relationship between the two. Living in Los Angeles, where housing prices seem to be on the rise, with no ceiling in sight, it struck a chord. (via Hit & Run)

    Sunday, February 13, 2005


    How to stop crafty burglars? I think someone's watched Phantasm a few too many times.

    F for Fake

    Right now, I'm missing "history in the making" on the Grammys. A for-charity sing-along. Nevin happened before. Nevin evin. Scott Weiland sounds like Neil Diamond. Anywho...ya'll should head over to the Drudge Report. Someone needs to catch up on their bathroom reading. Matt's all atwitter over a two week old Entertainment Weekly interview given by Chris Rock, and he now claims that it's so inflammatory that unnamed Academy bigwigs are trying to get Rock removed as host. Biggest fake story since John Kerry's imginary mistress. Developing...

    Saturday, February 12, 2005

    Mail Time

    On the comments page, "Bernardo" has this to say: "yea man, i saw that. good blog, but the knicks SUUUUCCKKKKKK."

    Dear Bernardo,

    Thanks for visiting the OV. Your T-shirt and bumper sticker are in the mail. Unfortunately, I must agree. The Knicks do suck, even if no amount of creative spelling can truly accentuate just how much they do. Even the use of excessive exclamation points or any other such device can't really explain how bad things have gotten. Phil Jackson isn't going to save them and neither is one lottery pick. You know it's bad when Isaiah, notoriously opposed to even uttering the word "rebuilding," is now warning fans of a slow, painful rebuilding process. I don't really know why you felt the urge to inform me of this fact, as it's pretty well worn material here, that despite my love for the club, they're just no good. If this is intended as a directive to find a new team, sorry, not gonna happen. Others have tried, based on reasons of geography or on the sort of bandwagon, team color based, or success driven thinking that leads people to love, among others, the Yankees, the Jordan era Bulls, the Lakers, and/or the Cowboys, and feel the desperate need to inform me of a mysterious uncle, aunt or cousin that they have, that they've always loved, and that loves said team. This will allow you to abandon the team of your hometown or of your father's or mother's and root for some current success story. This is rotten fandom, and should be scorned whenever seen. If this isn't the case, maybe you want to commiserate. If that's true, thanks. It's nice to know you're not alone. Or, maybe, you're just being a douche and rubbing it in. If so, I can't blame you. When it comes to these things, I'm an asshole too. It's nice to know I'm not alone.

    Tim, President of the Herb Williams Fan Club 

    Thursday, February 10, 2005

    Massapequa's Finest

    How Joey Buttafuoco didn't end up kicking off last week's SNL. Even Paris has her standards. If this sketch is real, it's way funnier than the opener they went with. Sleazy, Shannon Doherty porking, probably mob assisted restauranteurs: yes. Sleazy, mobbed up, and bemulleted mechanic/wannabe actors: no. (via Gawker)

    Go Ahead, Make My Day

    It's almost Friday. Celebrate. Head over to Stereogum and get a taste of the new Gorillaz, "Dirty Harry." (Pretty sure there's a line where "consumes ya" is rhymed with "John Philip Sousa.")

    Wednesday, February 09, 2005

    Focus on the Family

    Alan Keyes has a gay daughter. Now that she's out, she's been cut off, if life as Alan Keyes' daughter wasn't tough enough. Family values. (via Sully)

    Goody Proctor

    Congressional Republicans are hoping Dubya's replacement for now departed FCC chairman Michael Powell is a lot like his new Secretary of Education. You know, myopic and puritanical:
    "While we acknowledge the importance of parental controls over children's viewing habits. Hollywood and certain media companies work to ensure that children are exposed to it whether they or their parents like it or not. The next FCC chairman will oversee an important time in our nation's history, and they must be ready to aggressively enforce the laws that Congress has passed. We encourage you to nominate an individual of boldness, strength, and vision who will continue the work already begun. We must not let immorality become normalized nor federal laws ignored."
    The letter originated as a collaborative effort between Reps. Joe Pitts (Pa.) and Charles Pickering (Miss.). Among others signing it were Dave Weldon (Fla.), Steve King (Iowa) and Jim Ryun (Kan.). No Democrats signed it. Was Lieberman on vacation? (via AintNoBadDude)

    Quote of the Day

    "When a skullful of mush pays tribute to another skullful of mush, that's amore. In next week's NY Times Book Review, Harry Stein extends a warm huggy to Michael Medved on the occasion of Medved's simpering new memoir Right Turns: Unconventional Lessons from a Controversial Life. I wasn't aware Medved's life was controversial; perhaps he mistakes a nation's indifference for indignation, since I've never encountered anyone who considered him to be anything more than a minor nuisance, a chronic post-nasal drip." - James Wolcott, on LImbaugh chair filler, Swan Princess lover, Michael Medved

    Tuesday, February 08, 2005

    Alma Mater

    Boston U. undergads have created Boink ("The College Guide to Carnal Knowledge"). No content yet, though flipping through that tattered issue of Maxim in your bathroom might give you a preview, but there is this cover image. Just slightly hotter than the naked girl from C Tower. And last night, BU upset #1 BC in the Beanpot, likely leading to some heavy drinking in Chesnut Hill and multiple plots to jump Rhett in the bathroom later on...but take heart, young Christians, your basketball team is undefeated and, as much as it pains me to say it, should be #1, while BU basketball sadly remains BU basketball. Hottest BU undergraduate news since I found myself on alcohol probation.

    Monday, February 07, 2005

    Lunar Park

    According to Amazon, Bret Easton Ellis' sixth novel will be released August 16th. You can pre-order it now.

    Friday, February 04, 2005

    Charlie Sheen = Flipper

    Navy, not Navy SEALS:
    A Navy program trains dolphins, seals and other aquatic creatures to find and rescue downed pilots, protect ships, and perform other tasks they can handle better than humans.
    Buyer:     Walt Disney Pictures
    Genre:     Drama/Adventure
    More:      Two pitches combined. One from Patrick Aiello, Mark Ciardi & Gordon Gray's Mayhem Pictures and the other from Jessie Nelson & Nina Laden.  No screenwriter is attached as yet.  It has not been decided if this film will be live action or animation.

    Wednesday, February 02, 2005

    Quote of the Day

    "This country is heaven, in the spiritual sense of the word." (aka, the streets paved with gold, Hendrix/Lennon/Presley super group playing every night sense of the word)- Fidel Castro, aka God, King of "Heaven"

    One More Than Four

    1) Strange Love
    I’m halfway through Larry McMurtry’s All My Friends are Going to be Strangers (spurred on by Tarantino’s claim in a recent interview that it’s one of his favorite “hangout” books). I’m not blown away, as I just was by Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, which has so stuck with me, that it’s sort of ruining this next read. But, I digress. I’m sticking with it, because for what I feel the book lacks, McMurtry gets so many other things so right. There’s a great sequence where in his protagonist walks around the campus of his college the night before he’s going to leave and thinks of all the people he might share this moment with and then fears even talking to them, because he knows they’ll try to convince him to stay. And there is the killer moment when he realizes that his wife and the soon to be mother of his child has excised him from her life, even if she’s lying there next to him in bed or still sharing their apartment. He is a terribly indecisive character, bent on impulses that don’t often serve him best, and he’s now faced with walking away from a woman he ran to, feverishly. She’s already gone, but how long will he be willing to stay, in the cold of a love that’s gone out, if it was ever even on. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

    2) Bond, James Bond
    The first Bond novel I ever read was The Spy Who Loved Me. It’s barely about Bond, with the first half or more of the book about a woman running from a cold and dreary London past, zoom-zoom-zooming around the East coast on a Vespa, and eventually settling in an off-season motel in Lake George, soon to be shared by two blood thirsty thugs. The movie (a Roger Moore Bond) is summarized as follows:
    The British discover that someone has perfected a way of tracking submerged submarines and is offering the technology to the highest bidder. An international crisis breaks when a Royal Navy Polaris submarine equipped with sixteen nuclear warheads disappears while on patrol. The British send agent James Bond to secure the tracking device and locate the missing vessel before its missiles are launched at the West.
    I’ve never seen the movie. I loved the book. I’ve read two other Fleming Bond novels: Casino Royale and On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. The books are amply darker, but for the first time this weekend, I found a Bond movie I actually enjoyed. At this point, many a reader groans. Oh, did you? You like a movie millions of people worship? Aww, how cute. Whatevs. Dr. No is way more focused than a lot of the others I’ve seen and makes the Brosnan Bonds look more and more like what they are: commercials for watches and suits and hair care products and ties and gadgets that you’d otherwise know about by reading GQ or Esquire once or twice a year. Jamaican kill squads, villains with fake hands, Bond bedding his opponents, etc. Check it.

    3) Wild for Lynch
    David Lynch taps into my nightmares. I’m not saying I specifically wake from fever dreams about a gimpy Mrs. Palmer, a black cowboy, and Jerry Horn torturing me, but the feel of them, what he shows and doesn’t, the industrial hum lurking somewhere, the detachment in characters, in this case Harry Dean Stanton, as if he’s trapped in a dream and if he just stays calm and quiet long enough, he’ll wake up, scare the bejesus out of me. (Note: I have a deep supply of bejesus.) Doing this, for me, separates the violence from other brands of movie violence, which may very well be as horrifying on the surface. By Stanton sitting there so calmly, it is at once as if he knows his end and, again, as if he’s detached himself from the situation, hoping to be trapped in a nightmare. If he were to react, one could identify and consider how they’d react in a similar scenario. Here, you not only do that, but are then hit on another level, where in it’s not just the scenario that’s frightening but the idea of it, the literal nightmare quality, that makes it so much more chilling. Often, what we imagine is so much worse than the reality. And, at the same time, as I look forward to contradicting myself immediately, what we can imagine can often save us from the horrors of reality (Lynch’s use of the elements of the musical or the bits of pieces of fantasy from The Wizard of Oz). What Lynch does maybe more than any other filmmaker working today is crawl inside his own imagination, in order to crawl into our own, not only to provide us with a fantastical or surreal universe, but to tap into something very real and deep that only seems fantastical or surreal because we think we’re the only ones who’ve dreamt it. Wild at Heart and weird on top. David, make another movie. Soon. Please?

    4) The Hot Stove
    Omar Minaya reads the OV. If he doesn’t, well, he’s not alone. According to sources close to the Tigers, the Mets are about to become their main competitor for Magglio Ordonez. If they can sign him, they can then shift Cameron elsewhere, for relief help, primarily. Ordonez, if healthy (and signs indicate his knee is fine), would be a sensational addition to a lineup in need of a hitter just like him. If they get him, I’d be shocked if Cliff Floyd is long for New York. Here’s my prediction: They sign Magglio, trade Cameron to either Arizona or Oakland or Baltimore, and then trade Floyd to the Cubs. Let’s go Mets!

    5) Testing, Testing, 1-2-3
    I took a test on Saturday, in order to get a dental plan in a few months, or, more accurataley, whenever L.A. County deems it necessary to lift the hiring freeze, all the while taunting me with the above mentioned test and promises of advancement. Anyway, before the test began, and before I dug into a hearty dose of adding, subtracting, and alphabetizing, we got a thirty to forty minute lecture on rules and regulations from the test proctor. He read entirely from a script. When he began, he said, “Hello. My name is Bob.” He never looked up from his script.