Monday, June 27, 2005

In case you missed it...

Sen. Rick "Frothy Discharge" Santorum is a full bag of nuts:
It is startling that those in the media and academia appear most disturbed by this aberrant behavior, since they have zealously promoted moral relativism by sanctioning "private" moral matters such as alternative lifestyles. Priests, like all of us, are affected by culture. When the culture is sick, every element in it becomes infected. While it is no excuse for this scandal, it is no surprise that Boston, a seat of academic, political and cultural liberalism in America, lies at the center of the storm.
The above comes from a piece written by Santorum on the Catholic church abuse scandals. This psychotic dicktard just got kicked out of Red Sox Nation. Wicked shitty. (via Sully)

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Please don't take this as rejection.



Can seven (Elton John infused) minutes of clips from Cameron Crowe's forthcoming Elizabethtown actually be better than Cameron's last film? (In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the...please stop.) Survey says(?)...BAM. (It's sort of a big download, but worth the time.) (Via The Fiddler and AICN)

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Quote of the Day

"This is awesome. I want to have a Diet Coke. No make that a gin. How 'bout some ham? Do you like whipped cream? I think I will buy us an Oldsmobile. No, a VW wagon. Can I change your name to Shaun? No. Make it Kevin. I want to wear trousers made of bacon. We'll be the first family to live on the moon. No? How's Mexico City? I'm going to use stick deodorant. Actually, I will only wear spray-on anti-perspirant. You should try out for the wrestling team. Or choir. Or tennis. Do you like apples? How about bowling? I am a big fan of 'Cheers.' I hate 'Cheers.'" - Pistons coach Larry Brown, playing the role of worst dad EVER at fittedsweats (via TMFTML)

Domestic Appliances

Formula One president and CEO Bernie Ecclestone had this to say in regards to Danica Patrick's fourth place finish in the Indy 500:
"You know I've got one of those wonderful ideas ... women should be dressed in white like all the other domestic appliances."
Never one to give up on such a killer line, Ecclestone then repeated the line to Patrick during his "apology" phone call. Patrick was taken aback and confused, which likely means she's never read Ecclestone's mini-best seller Bernie's Aphorisms and Deep Thoughts, which (if real) might contain such gems as his observation on how a woman might make it in Formula One racing:
"She would have to be a woman who was blowing away the boys. What I would really like to see happen is to find the right girl, perhaps a black girl with super looks, preferably Jewish or Muslim, who speaks Spanish."
And dressed in all white. You know. Hot. Like a dishwasher mid-cycle.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Crit of the Day or New Uses for Your Broomstick

"But I can tell you this about the new Bewitched: It is an affliction. As if the work of an angry god, the movie collects the perspectives of Nora Ephron (director, co-writer), Delia Ephron (co-writer), and Penny Marshall (producer), coalescing into a showbiz self-suck unrivaled in modern times for smugness, vapidity, and condescension. To spend even 10 minutes in the movie's universe is to experience the Sartrean nausea of an utterly hollow head and heart." - The Village Voice's Michael Atkinson (via GreenCine)

You know it's bad when...

"I am no defender of Hillary Rodham Clinton’s, to put it mildly. But the recent charges in Ed Klein’s book to the effect that she is a closet homosexual or that Bill raped her and that this act triggered Chelsea’s conception are as crazy as the list that was circulating around of the 20 or so people the Clintons allegedly had killed.

These accusations do not belong in our public dialogue. They hit below the belt and tend to discredit the more serious and sober concerns so many of us have about the danger she would present in high office." - Dick Morris (A "man" prone to engage in the tactics described above, when not utilizing other fancy moves like racist scare tactics to aid in the re-election of former Sen. Jesse Helms, and, in general, a rotten little troll.)

I'm Telling

As if Elizabeth Berkley hasn’t been through enough. From a broken home in the Palisades, her father off in Palm Springs, married to an overly perky fitness instructor, her mother sullying the peace of her child’s home by remarrying and forcing her to live with a brash, street tough from New York, intent on destroying the lives of each and every one of her friends, Berkley continued to strive towards greatness only to fall short of being named valedictorian by just a fraction of a point. Then, when fame was to hit, launching her beyond the small goals of guest starring roles or Proactiv spots, Berkley had to endure an unholy backlash against her best film, the wonderfully tawdry Showgirls.

Then it was off to straight to video “erotic” thrillers and the role of a hooker in Oliver Stone’s wretched Any Given Sunday, but then again, what else is someone with lady parts to expect when taking a role in an Oliver Stone picture? But now, she has to read this from Charles Isherwood in the New York Times, having her best work described as “unspeakable,” a charge so often levied that Berkley thinks it wise to call after people like Isherwood and urge them to forget all about the “unspeakable” film. She wants to move on. Fair enough. But to endure this:
“The name Elizabeth Berkley may ring a bell, but if you can't think why, for God's sake, don't ask me. I'm not telling.”
Spare me. If you can’t admit to loving Showgirls or Elizabeth Berkley or her ability to make every movement both intensely real and strangely alien, be it the eating of french fries, pool fucking or dancing by way of an addiction to caffeine pills, then, well, Mr. Isherwood, you have a lot more than your cred as an insufferable snob to worry about.

Monday, June 20, 2005

"Reagan and me, good."

Have you been "Hannitized?" No? Not yet? Waiting for something better? Well, someone just cut you in line. Everyone's favorite imprisoned despot, Saddam Hussein:
"Saddam Hussein likes Doritos, washes his hands compulsively and thinks fondly of the late U.S. President Ronald Reagan."
This tantalizing bit of gossip comes from a forthcoming GQ article where in Hussein admits to fantasizing about feeding Jane Wyman to tigers. (Not true. Or is it?) I doubt Jane (an ex-wife held in such regard that her existence is ignored in the Reagan library) would've fit the following description of Saddam's dream woman, as relayed by one of his former guards:
"He was like, 'You gotta find a good woman. Not too smart, not too dumb. Not too old, not too young. In the middle. One that can cook and clean. Then you thank her, and you go...' And Saddam smiled and made the gesture of bending a woman over and spanking her, as if to say: This is how you keep her in line," one soldier said.
Hussein will be filling in for Dr. Laura next week while she's on vacation. He'll be taking your calls and dishing out more sage advice.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Mmm mmm good

WorldNetDaily carries the story today of Krishna Rajannah, the "abortionist" fond of eating fetuses by microwaving them and stirring them into his lunch. Rajannah just wanted to kick it up a notch, I suppose, bored with his bologna sandwich with the crusts cut off. He had tried to trade his lunch, plus a juice box, plus two ring dings plus a DVD of the Patrick Dempsey starrer Can't Buy Me Love watched only once for his nurse's hot pocket and Fresca, but she refused unless Rajannah upped the ante. Rajannah, never the wisest Kansas "abortionist," thought the best way to entice his employee would be to stir in some fetus. That's a fast way to get asked to switch lunch tables, Mr. Rajannah. It should be noted that linked at the bottom of this story is a link to "the definitive handbook for battling pro-choicers" and an intro to "Planned Parenthood's #1 Enemy." Just imagine if the liberal media got their hands on this story. That is if they could put down their Boo Berries and fetus milk long enough to do some work for their holy Father. Lazy commy bitches.

The New Yorker

Low fundage prevents me from travel. (It’s a well documented fact that I’m paid in sand and buttons by the County of Los Angeles.) But, every once in a while, you add up all the grains of sand and stray, mismatched buttons and you get yourself to NYC. A couple of facts:

  • Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman is the sickness, a play working on more levels than the noggin can often handle, leading some to laugh nervously when the play gets darker and darker. Stories within stories in a Kafka-esque study of an interrogation in a “totalitarian state,” where storytelling doesn’t just contain dark elements but is the key to knowing the dark underpinnings of the story, every character, and the secrets hidden beneath the surface of what seems like another story written by the protagonist, Katuryan Katuryan, played brilliantly by Billy Crudup. But it’s Michael Stuhlbarg as Crudup’s man-child brother that steals the show, making you laugh one second, breaking your heart the next, just to lead you down the path where he can scare the shit out of you. Brilliant.

  • I was at a party with former Knicks GM Scott Layden. He wasn’t there long and he had his reasons, and I like to think that one of them was fear of being given the business by yours truly. The Q & A’d probably get ugly once I brought up, you know, his whole tenure at MSG, from his trade of Ewing for Glen Rice, Travis Knight, and that oversized Australian corpse known as Luc Longley, then, once you’ve fucked that up, trading Rice for the two wretched contracts of the equally useless tandem of Howard Eisley and Shandon Anderson. But wait, there’s more. Then, I’d have to delve into the McDyess, Camby, Nene, Frank Williams, not drafting Amare Stoudamire because of “character issues” thing, and then I’d probably’ve lunged across the table and made a scene uglier than watching a Layden assembled team play some round ball. Shit never went down, and I think we’re all better off for it. I mean, the Knicks aren’t, but that’s not my fault, now is it?

  • Thursday, June 09, 2005

    I think the best place to get hit is with a curveball at about sixty-two miles an hour, probably right in the butt.

    Plunk Biggio is a blog "dedicated to Craig Biggio and his (probably unintentional) Quest to break the all time major league career record for getting hit by pitches" set by Don Baylor. Love it. The record is 267 and Biggio currently sits at 262. Biggio faces the Mets and Tom Glavine tonight. (via The New Yorker)

    Wednesday, June 08, 2005

    Wac(k)o Jacko



    Ever subtle. Ever vigilant. Rev. Jesse Jackson is putting his oratory skills to good use in Santa Maria this week, rallying behind Michael Jackson:
    Rev. Jackson also criticized the search of Michael Jackson's Neverland ranch, which he called "a Waco-style invasion," referring to the 1993 federal raid on the Branch Davidian complex in Texas.

    "They came into his house with 75 armed deputies and the media. They kicked over furniture and artwork. They ransacked the house," he said.
    Sadly, D.A. Snedden and his boys don't have the gorilla size testicles of our former Madame Attorney General, nor her moxie, nor her inability to handle any kind of raid like a rationale adult, and they didn't aid in burning Neverland down to the ground. Unlike David "I'm Jesus...yes, that one" Koresh, who was known to be seen around town, picking up this or that for one his minions (thus making a raid of any kind basically unnecessary, shameful, but no less great for ratings), I somehow doubt that Jacko could be found at the local 7-11, picking up vaseline, the latest issue of Barely Legal, and a new piece of flair for his many fascistic Captain Crunch jackets. The thought of which makes me feel so dirty, I think I need to take a shower with a beautiful young boy. There I go again. Do you see? I think I've got it and then I slip up.

    Monday, June 06, 2005

    Quote(s) of the Day II or Diverted Islamist Crooners

    "I think I had also noticed that there are not enough plastic bins or tables to line them up on, and that "X-ray machines that examine carry-on baggage sit idle as much as 30 per cent of the time." The time elapsed between Sept. 11, 2001, and today's writing (1,364 days) is only slightly less than the time between Pearl Harbor and the unconditional surrender of Japan (1,365 days). And airport security is still a silly farce that subjects the law-abiding to collective punishment while presenting almost no deterrent to a determined suicide-killer."

    "Flying from London to Washington the other day, I was told that I was no longer required to take my computer out of its case. Apparently, there are scanners that can see though soft cases as well as through the hardened lid of a laptop (and apparently the United States hasn't managed to invest in any of these scanners for its domestic airports). On the other hand, I was asked if I had packed my own bags and if they had been under my control at all times. This exceptionally stupid pair of questions—to which a terrorist would have to answer "yes" by definition—is now deemed too stupid for U.S. domestic purposes and stupid enough only for international travel. This makes as much sense as diverting a full plane that carries a notorious Islamist crooner, the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens, from one airport to another.

    Routines and "zero tolerance" exercises will never thwart determined jihadists who are inventive and who are willing to sacrifice their lives. That requires inventiveness and initiative. But airport officials are not allowed to use their initiative. People who have had their names confused with wanted or suspect people, and who have spent hours proving that they are who they say they are, are nonetheless compelled to go through the whole process every time, often with officials who have seen them before and cleared them before, because the system that never seems to catch anyone can never seem to let go of anyone, either." - Christopher Hitchens, from "Terminal Futility"

    Of course I've had it in the ear before

    Slate's Seth Stevenson has a piece up today on the worst or most inappropriate song used in an advertisement. The winner: Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life" in the Carribean Cruise Line ads that used to only be inappropriate by having Kathie Lee Gifford as their spokeswoman, playing shuffleboard in a one piece bathing suit stitched with tender loving care by a 4 year old. My favorite part of the piece though is the reader responses. My two favorites come from from "ILR":
    "I have to nominate Applebees' 'Take this steak and top it' ads. Since the source of the jingle is 'Take This Job and Shove It'—and the 'shove it' is short for 'shove it up your ass'—it's a horrible choice. Applebees wants to shove a steak up my ass?"
    And Chris:
    "The most outrageous misrepresentation of a song must be the Nissan Maxima commercial featuring the Smiths' 'How Soon Is Now?' A college radio favorite from the late '80s, it has to be one of the most depressing tunes ever used to sell anything. Sample lyrics: 'There's a club if you'd like to go/ you could meet somebody who really loves you/ so you go, and you stand on your own/ and you leave on your own/ and you go home, and you cry/and you want to die.'"
    Just like the Maxima!

    Quote of the Day

    "I saw the trailer for his (Tom Cruise's) new movie. War of the Worlds. I wonder what that's about." - co-worker

    Saturday, June 04, 2005

    Cover Me


    (via Not An Exit)

    Thursday, June 02, 2005

    Many of the 82

    Those outside of Los Angeles might not know that we have a new mayor: Antonio Villaraigosa. With a ridiculously low turnout, Antonio defeated a corpse in a suit incumbent Jim Hahn. Now, I know you want to get up out of your chair and frighten your co-workers with a dance of joy or some hearty jumping up and down, but control yourself. But now comes the really exciting part. At the Huffington Post, Torie Osborne (an activist and executive director of the LIberty HIll Foundation) gives us an isider's account of the first few days of Villaraigosa's reign as mayor. Choice bits:
    The excitement was contagious at the first (only) meeting of Mayor-Elect Antonio Villaraigosa's Transition Team at the Science Center in south LA on Monday. Many of the 82 of us were there. The cultural and ethnic diversity represented WAS the new Los Angeles -- at my table (we sat down randomly) were an Armenian businessman, an environmental leader, the legendary Dolores Huerta, a Latina lesbian lawyer, and others I didn't get to meet...
    He told us all to go see the movie Crash, and seemed to take personally the challenges it depicts. His priorities for his "Fresh Start" will highlight ethics, education, traffic, jobs and the economy and public safety -- but the issues are less important than the huge hope he is bringing alive. I haven't seen this since Bobby Kennedy (maybe Harold Washington in Chicago, but I wasn't there). My bet is he'll attract and catalyze an unprecedented team of creative, kickbutt leaders, who will move a few mountains. God knows we need it.
    Mountains = 45% graduation rate for Los Angeles high school students. Crash is playing in theaters everywhere.

    Quote of the Day

    "For all I know, Ron Howard is a nasty S.O.B., but it's doubtful. In public, he's still Opie, and his films are conservative in ways that would gladden Sheriff Andy's heart. (Too bad there's no Barney Fife to undercut the sanctimony.) Howard manipulates audiences without guile, jerking tears, piling on catastrophes, smoothing out dissonances, making bad characters badder and good ones gooder—and clearly believing that this is wholesome, or movies like Cocoon, A Beautiful Mind, and Cinderella Man wouldn't work. At what he does, he's peerless. I wish I had more respect for what he does—and for myself the next morning for surrendering." - David Edelstein

    Fidelio

  • Horny Gandhi has a list of places they want to travel. Turkey is listed but then x’d off the list on the grounds of the Armenian genocide. Fair enough. But Cuba tops the list and bears no asterisk. Huzzah! Don’t stay too long...you might end up writing something down and then it’s off to the camps spa.

  • For a moment, let’s all pretend that X2: X-Men United is a good movie. Keeping that in mind, one should head into a future screening of X3: Broken Up, but Still Fucking with high hopes, right? And Matthew Vaughn is directing? Ooh...intriguing. Well, as everyone knows, Vaughn backed out in favor of more time with Claudia Schiffer and less with Hugh Jackman’s mutton chops. So, now, a replacement must be found and the keeper of the keys to the last two cinematic classics is off in Metropolis. What to do? What to do? Well, duh. Hire Brett Ratner, of course. Sure, this isn’t a done deal, but we here at the OV want it to be...badly. Look, if you can’t get Joel Schumacher to further the glorious history of your comic book series, well, there’s just no place else to go. And if there is, we don’t want to know where that path leads. (via Defamer)

  • “Driving by women leads to evil." "Women in the driver's seat will be free to leave home alone and go when and where they please; to unduly expose their eyes while driving; to interact with strange men such as traffic cops and mechanics." The Saudis continue their everlong battle against vaginas, manly meter maids, and greasy hands. Friends, indeed. (via Buzz Machine)

  • Even with Direct TV, there is still not a 24 hour cable channel about feminine itching.