A Dirty Word

I went sledding once this winter. The day after thanksgiving. My, it was fun, we chortled merrily as we tobogganed down the hill. Surely this will a splendiforous winter, full of snow, and glee. I wore a T-Shirt today, not because I wanted to (I abide by a style philosophy where I cover as much skin as possible. The ladies love it, they love the mystery) but if I wore any more, I'd have to field questions like "Christ, did you just run a marathon? Because that takes training you know. Training, you do not have". And there is nothing worse than having to listen to a doctor go on and on about unnecessary health risks. Especially when you're trying to eat a meatball sub. Inconsiderate bastards. Anyway, it was in the 60s in Chicago today, which I guess means that it's spring (though I find the lack of mud disturbing). I feel cheated, I wanted snow damn it, I wanted to prove my worth, standing against a blistering wind on an 'L' stop. I wanted freezing cold misery, six foot deep misery, not just, blah misery, the type we've had all winter. This spring is quite nice though, not sweltering, not freezing, just cool. And, a 24 hour diner opened down the block from me, so I've got that going for me. I haven't gone yet, but if the stacked boxes of matzah and manischewitz in the window are any indicator, I'm in for treat. But then I'm a man who loves his crackers.

I was sick at the beginning of this week, and I slept through most of the past five days, but when I finally woke up, I found out that immigration had become the greatest matter of national security. Every day, I saw high school kids streaming from their schools to protest to unjust bills being proposed, and in no way leaving just because they wanted to get out of school. They will go down in history with that girl in my English class, who I always suspected was asleep with her eyes open, when she heroically stood up and walked out to protest the war. She promptly walked out to the stoop, and inhaled the freedom of her Camel light. You know, before the vice principal got all on her case. God, he was such a fascist. You know, this is how Nazi Germany started! Or you know, something like that. God, why do we even need to learn history? It's not like it's going to happen again. Hey can I bum one off of you?

Lou Dobbs has always scared me. And I'm not just talking about the hair. Though, good lord, look at that hair. It's terrifying. Every night his show leads with a story about how immigrants are ruining America. No matter what the actual lead stories of the day are, you can rely on Lou Dobbs to completely ignore it and instead talk about immigrants, or outsourcing, or... I honestly can never pay attention to what he's talking about, I just get so caught up in... the hair. I wonder what would happen if you set it on fire. My theory. Nothing. I think his entire head is flame retardant. I apparently should have been paying attention, since everyone seems to care about this right now, and Lou Dobbs is in his moment, covering the meeting 'El Tres Amigos' in Cancun (where, I think all international summits should take place. What better way to unwind after a day of discussing African aid plans than with a rousing banana eating contest?). Who knows if all of this will boil down to anything significant, most likely in another week, congress will be on to another hot button issue, something flashy, with pizzaz. Maybe like, bottling legislation. We can figure out what that actually means later. Anyway, whatever we move on to next, you can trust that Lou Dobbs will continue to spread isolationism to you, every night.

The worst thing about this college life is how Thursday has become Fridays, how I wake up Friday mornings expecting cartoons, and I get Katie Couric. Christ, does that wake me up. I also feel like I should be able to go see movies on Thursday nights too. I've tried weasling my way in, "Look, I know you have the reels already, and you're gonna watch them, what does one extra person matter? Huh, maybe Andrew Jackson would change your mind? Huh, maybe a Jackson? No, not Wolverine, he was a president. 20 dollars, it's a 20 dollar bill." It's around this point when it just turns into a long, long stare, and I sulk away. Anyway. Though it may feel like the only movie coming out tomorrow is 'Basic Instinct 2', there are other options if you don't feel like watching stiffly shot gratuitous sex in the middle of a bland story in a gratuitous sequel designed to jump start a future mental patient's career. Slither opens tomorrow, and I have a feeling that watching slugs infesting human beings will be less disturbing than watching Sharon Stone try to be erotic. Plus, it has one of the best casts in a good long while on it, with Nathan Fillion (O, Captain, My Captain), Berkshire native Elizabeth Banks (I take it on good authority that she smells like burgers), Michael Rooker, Jenna Fischer (Pam from the Office), and Gregg Henry. It was written by Fischer's husband James Gunn, who wrote the 'Dawn of the Dead' remake two years ago, which I, actually enjoyed, once I was forced to watch it. So I'm hopeful.

Speaking of 'The Office', NBC has been running 'April Fools Day' versions of their 'The More You Know" spots with the Office cast members (in character) giving advice that is actually useful, like John Krasinski's advice to avoid black jelly beans, Rainn Wilson advising you on how to deal with bears, BJ Novak on why taping yourself having sex is the worst possible idea you could do. Watch them here, it could save your life.



Most importantly though,Brick opens in New York and LA tomorrow, expanding to other markets (like Chicago, Boston, and DC) next week. That actually works out nicely, since it means I'll be able to see that and Lucky Number Slevin (which, I take from a credible source, will be the new hotness) back to back in a neo noir double feature. Because this is how I organize the events in my life. Seriously though, if you can, see Brick. No joke, no wacky non sequitur. Just see it.

Somewhere, Over The Rainbow

Gadzooks! Is that how you spell gadzooks? It looks kind of clunky on the page though. Christ, I just looked it up, apparently the root of gadzooks is from God's hooks, a reference to the nails used to nail Jesus to the cross. I thought gadzooks was a phrase used by eccentric grandfather, with wired white hair. Like Doc, from 'Back To The Future'. Actually maybe I was just thinking of him, I don't think my grandfather has ever said gadzooks. Did Doc Brown even say gadzooks, or am I just making that up? Certainly seems like something he would say. I wonder if he knew it was a reference to the crucifixion. Maybe he started it, maybe he went back in time to watch the crucifixion (not sure why he would want to, but I also don't know why he would want to wear his hair like that, so I guess anything goes), and when he saw them hammer the nails in, he just kind of exclaimed, "Gadzooks!". Thousands of years later, the phrase stuck around. Wow, history is amazing.

What the hell was I talking about? Oh, 'Lost'. Gadzooks! Something finally happened, which was a nice change of events. There was a balloon! But Henry Gale was a black man from Minnesota! Locke inspected Sayid's old girlfriends house! Locke's pa is most likely the man Sawyer is hunting! The world's coolest black light poster is drawn on the back of the blast door! Food falls from the sky! Exclamation points abound! This the most excited I've been about this show since the beginning of the season, now that we're getting down to the final stretch, so the long breaks between episodes will get shorter, and the softer, character based (i.e. nothing happens) episodes will start to dry up. I also predict that Jack's weird ass, giant drill and Japanese lettering tattoo will play some role in the future, since his sleeves have been prominently rolled back recently, and especially since Sawyer made a crack about it in tonight's episode. I also think that Sayid will go apeshit on Gale next week, decapitate him and stick his head in the freezer. A cookie to anyone who understood that reference.

Veronica Mars was also excellent tonight, heralding the return of a possibly reformed Troy Vandergraff, and what most likely will be the setting for next season, which looked a hell of a lot like Sunnydale High before all the graduation fireworks. The best thing about the episode by far though, was seeing Michael Cera and Alia Shawkat in action, just a day after the official death knell for 'Arrested Development'. Cera was the best, giving a glimpse of what a real world George Michael might be like. And, wow, it was simultaneously depressing and heartbreaking watching him organize a group for a rousing game of two truths and a lie, knowing that no one cares but still doing it anyway. His few scenes tonight gave me a new found respect for how amazing he is at playing this character, making the passing of AD all the more painful. Whoever said TV was fun was a lying rat bastard. And I hope he burns in hell.


The past few days I've been trying to play catch up with things that I missed on my week away from the internet. The best is, undeniably, this. It's amazing how many shining moments are shoved into this short segment: the gold tooth man's smile, the amazingly detailed sketch, the crackhead theory, the leprechaun hunter, his ancient family flute, 'Give me the gold, I want the gold', and most of all the thinly veiled contempt the newscasters have for their audience. It feels like a 'Chapelle's Show' skit that wasn't written because, God why would you ever think of something like that? Ever?

Apparently, what will undoubtedly be the greatest movie ever made will go back for some pickups, to bump up it's rating to a hard R. How will it do this you ask? More snakes? More planes? Or perhaps the most perfect piece of dialogue ever written for the screen? What is this line you ask? Let my new favorite blog explain it to you in the best way possible.

New favorite blog. That implies that I had a previous favorite blog. Which implies that this all a sad, sad affair.

I Hear The Jury Is Still Out On Science

It's over.

And if you're too lazy to read that article or tie the picture on the right with the previous sentence, Mitchell Hurwitz has said that he won't come back as showrunner for the fourth season of 'Arrested Development', which basically means the show is done, since Showtime doesn't want the show without Hurwitz. I guess that will show us for showing up to a show that no one else showed interest in. Hey, you know what was a really good movie? 'The Last Picture Show'.

I'll stop now.

You can get what might be the last glimpse of George Michael and Maeby on screen together this Wednesday on Veronica Mars, where the 17 year olds will be playing college freshmen to 20 something Kristen Bell's 18 year old Veronica. Creepy highschool teachers across the country pretend like they're not excited/deeply, deeply confused. And Mae Whitman, who played Ann on the show, has a new show, 'Thief', which premieres on FX tonight. Though I hear she's off the show after the second episode, when they just kind of forget about her.

Attack Of The Bible Sweater

"You haven't updated in a week. Maybe that's because you're a lazy jackass. Maybe it's because you have mono. I wouldn't know, because you haven't been updating. jackass."

When the man is right, he is of course, right. I was home all last week, where there is no wireless internet connection unless I feel like walking down to the coffee shop, and you can probably guess how that thought process went. But I also was lucky enough to catch a cold from my father, the very same cold that he had caught from my mother earlier in the week. God, I missed my family. So, yes Sam, I am both lazy and sick. Happy now?

Many things happened in the past week, but I feel too sick to really sit here and fully explain them, so I figured I'd just rattatat them out, Jame Joyce style, or at least what I think is James Joyce style, since I only got about 50 pages into "Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man" before I realized I had no idea what it was about. But I enjoyed the use of the word 'snogging'. I'm reading James Ellroy's 'The Cold Six Thousand', a book about people involved in the cover up of the Kennedy assassination, and like all Ellroy books, it's filled with an entertaining mix of bitter cops, seedy pornographic underbellies, and the terribly violent murder of prostitutes. These are the reasons I came. The first word of the chapter I was reading while waiting for my flight at Midway was "Hate", which caught the eye of the woman in the sweater that looked like a knitted sunset sitting next to me, who, as I was turning my head to watch George Washington get trounced by Duke, felt the need to point out to me that, "While that book might be about hate, this one is all about peace and love." It was the Bible of course. The next 45 minutes entailed me staring at the floor, gently nodding my head, as I was regaled with a tail of how the Bible (her's was actually a day by day Bible, she suggested I pick one up next year, or if I wanted to I could start this year and just play catch up) changed her life, how praying for friends got her friends, and it wasn't a coincidence, it was a God-incidence. Only way to explain it apparently, by making up words. I got the feeling that she does this a lot, that the whole, spontaneous 'Hate' line was just an easy in, since she seemed to expect me to say no to every question she asked (Why yes, I do know they story of Job, oh, but you'll tell it to me anyway? Fine then), and she picked up that I knew a bit about the Bible, so I told her I was Catholic. I knew this was a gamble, either she would back down, sensing there was no chance of a conversion, or else try to buddy buddy me with more Jesus talk, except now she would expect me to answer her sometime. What I got was a speech on how to distinguish between the word of God and the law of man. I caught a break when she stopped to say thank you to a soldier in uniform, and we were called to our boarding lines (she of course in A, I, in the home for slackers, the C line). Obviously this woman was happy, and I admit that the praying for friends idea has crossed my miserable mind once or twice, but would it never occur to the woman that maybe I like being bitter and sad? Probably not, since it doesn't make sense. Unless of course you are bitter and sad.

So, I went home, my father shaved off his beard for the first time since... ever. I'm fairly sure the man was born with a beard, and it's almost as if he's taunting God with his razor wielding. My parents have redecorated their room, since they're putting our house on the market later this year, which gives the room a weird feeling, like no one actually lives in it, its like a tumor on the rest of the house. Things I learned over the rest of my spring break... reeybees is an acceptable Scrabble word, as is Gaayo. Me say gaayo. 'V For Vendetta' proved I could watch a guy in a mask for two hours and not get totally weirded out (of course Natalie Portman helped too). After watching 'The Chumscrubber', a movie about a kid who finally wakes up after giving up antidepressants (and then gets Camilla Belle at the end), I thought about 'Donnie Darko', a movie about a kid who saves the world when he stops taking his pills (and gets Jenna Malone, sort of), and 'Garden State', a movie about a kid who gives up his pills and wakes up (and gets Natalie Portman in the end), I said "Hey, a pattern!". Maybe all the Scientology talk of psychiatry being evil isn't so crazy. Because movies don't lie. And speaking of Scientology, this story of Issac Hayes not actually quitting South Park has been debunked in another statement. Which, if you read the first story, makes the rebuttal seem a little iffy. And I think I found my dream job, after watching 'Thank You For Smoking', which I'm fairly positive was not the message I was supposed to come away with. I saw it in New York, where I got a better chance to realize that Kim's Video is the greatest store on Earth. How about the greatest place on Earth. Yeah, I think I'm willing to go that far. I'm that type of person though.

Overall, my trip was sleeping and watching television, except with a different view out the window, and people to talk to. Which is always nice. And on a final note, Howard at Kushi Tan wrote about the Jenny Lewis show in Washington, but posted a picture he found that was from the Chicago show I saw. So I think I can post it. And I am.



The shot is from the exact angle that I had during the show, which makes me sure that the guy who took it was the large black man who pushed me with his belly into Ted and Amanda, causing me to hold me breathe and step on my toes for fives minutes while he took his pictures with his huge camera. Ah, sweet memories. The picture came out well. I think I named him Howard.

And on, seriously, the final note, Kate Mara, who played Alma Jr. (Do you call girls juniors?) in Brokeback, was on 24 tonight, and looks to rival Chloe in the crazy, so that made me feel a little better. And also, the woman who is playing the bossy Homeland Security Woman on 24 was also the Bossy CIA Woman in 'Syriana', if anyone else was wondering where the hell she was from. It really bothered me last week. Hopefully a second billed cast member from another film that was up for Best Supporting Actor this year will be on next week, because I enjoy nerdy little things like that. I feel sad now.

And I've Been Puking

After the famine, my great, great, great, great grandfather and his remaining siblings, the ones who hadn't been eaten, were packed in the most efficient manner possible into steerage on a large, rusty boat, and after two months at sea, where, tragically, two more of his brothers were eaten (damn you, Jonathan Swift), they were finally and unceremoniously dumped on the shores of America. He and the generations that followed worked their blood, worked their sweat, but not their tears because it's physically impossible for Irish Catholics to cry, into making themselves a vital part of this country. I think of them tonight, on this St. Patrick's Day Eve, as I stare at the Sear's Tower lit green, and as that small annoying girl from down the hall, runs, screaming "Who wants to do an Irish Car Bomb?" (I'm not much of a drinker, but I'm fairly sure when a drink makes you think of the IRA, or for that matter, any terrorist organization, it's kind of against the point. I doubt it would be much of a buzz when you're thinking about children dying in an explosion, pawns in a battle they don't even understand. Or you, know, something along those lines), then trips, giggling on the floor. Or crying. I didn't care enough to find out which one it was.

I'm not entirely sure where I've been for the last few days, today was the first day where I actually felt like I was awake all week. My friend was telling me that not only is it possible for you to get mono without any sort of necking or canoodling involved at all, but that girls can carry it, spread it to guys, without feeling sick at all. I cried shenanigans. Actually, it was more along the lines of "Shen... shenan....." Then I just kind of fell asleep on my feet.

Of course, if I did have a contagious disease, what better way to spend my time than standing, squeezed in with a hundred of my closest strangers at the Jenny Lewis and The Watson Twins show on Tuesday? I got there about an hour and a half before the show started, where I entertained myself by naming all the people around me. There was Ted and Amanda, Amanda being about 7 years younger than Ted, but she was totally at the same emotional maturity level, which is why they're so good together, why they're so in love, why they needed to remind everyone around them of this by gently holding, swaying, and kissing each other through out the show. Needless to say, I despised them. There was Tik, the 38 year old bouncer and father of two, who spent the night swigging back Heineken, since this wasn't exactly a crowd that was primed to become the next Altamont. There was Chris and Mary Ann, by far the oldest people in my section, Chris a big guy with a serious looking face, Mary Ann I'm positive was a second grade teacher. Then there was poor Amy, who's friend, I think her name was Sue, showed up late, which left her to the whims of Tucker, you might know him as that guy who seems to work at every Radio Shack in the country, who wowed her with his endless talks of every sensitive guy pop culture marker, running from 'Before Sunset' to Broken Social Scene.

The show opened with Whispertown 2000, who I thought were great and very charming, though it was impossible not to sympathize with them as they poured their hearts out to the stone faced indie kids standing before them, who gave absolutely nothing back. They deserved a better reaction, but apparently it's not cool to smile when you're cool. It's not cool to move either. Or breathe. Johnathan Rice cracked the crowd though, by being all detached and cynical. Apparently the only way to make cynical kids laugh is to make fun of them for being cynical. I suppose it's just a matter of science, when you come down to it. Rice's act also introduced us to Farmer Dave, who just might have been the highlight of the evening, the man with one expression; if everyone else was starting to convulse to the beat, or if Jenny was crooning on his shoulder, the man continued to look like people do after they hear a knock knock joke. Smiling, but you can't quite tell if he's smiling because he thinks its funny, or he's just humouring you. Plus, he was wearing a pretty sweet cowboy shirt.

But there was only one real reason we were all there. Jenny finally came out with the Watson Twins in tow (who kind of looked like two black haired Janel Maloneys), dressed in a kind of matronly, Loretta Lynn-esque dress. Between the gospel tones of the music and the way that everyone there was completely focused on the stage (I can't remember the last time I saw that happen), the show began to feel like a revival meeting, all of us willing to act on whatever she told us to do. By the time that her set was under way though, my head was fully consumed in a headache, which wasn't being helped by the fact that I had to stand on one leg not to bump into anyone surrounding me. It's a testament to Jenny and her band that I didn't vomit on Ted and Amanda, she kept me distracted from the fact that I felt like I was dying on the inside. But, I imagine that if I was being consumed by some sort of, 'Grey's Anatomy' worthy flesh eating bacteria, I still would have made it through the show. Jenny Lewis was playing guitar three feet away from me. Who needs a full functioning body when you have a memory like that?

Waiting For The End Of The World

There's snow in San Francisco and I'm sitting through a tornado watch in Chicago. But this isn't what's worrying me tonight, this isn't what making me feel like four pissed off guys who I'm guessing are going to look a lot like Skeletor are going to go come through the sky on scary skeleton horses in the middle of the night. This is. Republicans are turning on George Bush? It wasn't until this very moment that I became ashamed to be an American. Now, well now I might as well be Canadian. That's how sick I feel (though for the sake of full disclosure, that might also be from the beef stroganof I made tonight). I'm deeply ashamed by Mitt Romney, the beloved governor from my home state (if there's one thing we love in Massachusetts, its a Republican Governor), a man who has spent his governorship working hard to make Massachusetts a better place, never once using his position as a way to showboat for the GOP, never once using the people of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts as a mere resumé builder. And now, after years of building up this sweet, valuable trust, he wastes it in a 15 minute speech, criticizing President Bush on spending? Just gut me with a knife governor, because you already have emotionally. Emotionally, I'm a trout, slowly drying on a rack in some God forsaken smokehaus. Don't these people get it? The inept cronies, the ballooning cost of an increasingly unpopular and seemingly unendable war, the cries of civil rights violations - those were all there before the election, we all knew about them as we went into the booths. And yes, the manslaughter angle is new, but we all know that was an accident. Are you going to stare me in the eye and tell me that you've never mistaken one of your best friends for a quail? I did not think so. None of this was the point though, there was only one thing that got the President reelected, and it's the one thing that he's come through on, in spades in fact. He kept the queers from marrying each other. There, right there. That's it in a nutshell. That's all the American people really worry about, that's what wins you elections. Governor Romney of all people should know this, since he is the man who valiantly went out of his way to make sure state clerks enforced an obscure law that barred out of state couples from obtaining marriage licenses, a law that was originally created to stop interracial marriages, in order to decrease the amount of same sex marriage licenses being awarded in the state. That, ladies and gentlemen, is commitment. But now it's about pork barrel spending? I call that a cop out. And you governor, I call you a coward. A coward with a terrific smile.

And all this cut and running is premature, especially now that the conservative philosophy is finally taking over the one demographic that actually matters - Hollywood. All of that talk about Hollywood taking a political stance was squashed last week when 'Brokeback Mountain', a progressive homosexual love story, was beaten out by 'Crash', a poorly written after school special that thought it was making profound statements about racism. The most liberal sect in the country gave a swift "no thank you" to the gay agenda. And look at television. You can just feel the paranoia dripping off of shows like '24', 'Lost', and 'Battlestar Galactica'(which had an amazing season finale Friday night, if, for no other reason, it proved that Dean Stockwell is still one 'suave fuck', even 20 years later), with their constant talks of 'moles', 'others', and 'cylons' (which are like robotic moles). And where did that paranoia come from? The Bush Administration of course. All of this is a direct result of the years of 'if you're not with us, you're against us' talk that's been coming from this administration for the last 5 years. We've had plenty of justified chances to desert the president, but now is not one of them. We need to stick by him, lest he become a modern day Van Gogh, mumbling to himself in the corner of his Crawford ranch, rubbing the stub that was left after Dick Cheney blew his ear off, unaware that all of the work he had done finally paid off as we quietly slip into a totalitarian government. The man has done too much to deserve to be treated like this. You hear me Governor Romney, you better change your... oh who am I kidding, I can't stay mad at you, not with those pearly whites. Do you use Crest? Yeah, yeah I bet you do.

(All of this had me in kind of a funk today. That is, until I found this)

Some People Juggle Geese

It worries me sometimes that it feels like the people at the Sci-Fi channel are the only people who get me. They're the people who put Battlestar Galactica on on Friday nights, giving me a convenient excuse not to go out and make friends. I could probably make friends during the day, that is if the Sci-Fi channel didn't run a 'Firefly' marathon all day. Oh sure, I have all the episodes on DVD, and I've seen them all numerous times... but this way, I don't have to get up and put the DVDs in myself. It's amazing how big a part laziness plays in how I decide to live my life. But one thing that I've learned today watching 'Jaynestown', is that Gregory Itzin, President Logan on '24', played Boss Higgins. When you watch enough TV, it all starts to blur together, since the same crop of actors seem to guest star on all the same shows (in this same 'Firefly' episode, Daniel Bess, who played Rick in the first season of '24', not to mention Meg's first boy friend on 'Veronica Mars', is the mudder who takes one for Jayne). Now, look at that last sentence I just wrote. Despite how sad you might find it, also imagine what it does to me when I watch TV. I can't watch an episode of a show without my head turning into the IMDb page for the fourth listed guest star of the night. Sure, these types of facts come in handy with the ladies, but it kind of ruins the feeling of some shows, when a character comes on screen, they have to overcome a ton of baggage for me to buy the character. When 'Lost' premiered, the first thoughts that went through my mind was more "Hey, what is Agent Kendall up to?" and "I know he speaks English, I've seen him do it on '24' and 'Angel'." And I have to keep these thoughts in my head too, since on the few times I've tried to explain these things to people I usually just get icy glares, or things, usually pointy, thrown in the direction of my head.

Of course none of this will stop me from watching television. Like the second part of the Battlestar Galactica finale tonight, the return of the Discovery Channel's 'I Shouldn't Be Alive', the most terrifying show on TV (made by the same people who made the terrifying 'Touching The Void'. That must be a fun production company to work at) and of course the hour long 'Conan In Finland' special. He's going since, apparently, Conan is huge in Finland, and became bigger when he started saying he looks like their female president (Though from watching curling during the Olympics, I get the feeling that not only does he looks like their president, but possibly just everyone in Finland). But as I was watching this interview ( I tried doing a direct link to the video, but it wasn't working. If you feel like watching it, the link is in the article) he did with CNN's international show, 'Your World Today', and the anchor, I think his name is Brit, or it might as well be, says "But you know what it's good to see? Real comedy, with good language, and just clever thinking, that's what Conan O'Brien is really famous for." Conan seemed a little taken aback by it, as was I. Is Conan wholesome? I mean, it's true he's not exactly Lenny Bruce, but I think wholesome I think, Tony Danza. Of course Danza doesn't really count as a comedy. Not intentional comedy at least. Maybe like, Leno. But hell, Leno's stuff usually has more sexual content than Conan does, and once again, I think, technically speaking, you have to be funny for what you do to be considered comedy. Maybe a show where a masturbating bear and a vomiting Kermit live side by side is wholesome and clever, especially now that Carlos Mencia has a show where people tune into watch him giggle after he makes a joke that is incredibly edgy. Or wait, I'm sorry. I meant stupid and a pathetic attempt to be offensive. There's no reason to get angry at Mencia though, since he'll just end up in that run down retirement home where they put Andrew Dice Clay in a few years, as Conan moves to 11:30. I just never thought of his show as family friendly, due in large part to the fact that my mom hates him. She finds him weird and offputting. Which I guess makes sense, being weird and off putting is kind of like being offensive for smart people. Or at least that's what comedian tell themselves when they're doing shows in a dingy basement while Carlos Mencia sells out the Meadowlands.

Smack The Shit Out Of Jeff Zucker

Dear NBC,

Stop it. The reason people copy videos, and post them around the internet? Because they like them, and they want to tell people about them, tell them about your product. It's a compliment, really. But apparently you don't feel that way, since you've threatened to sue You Tube for posting videos from their shows, including 'The Lazy Sunday' video, which became popular in the first place because it was circulated around the internet. It also appears that you took down the link I gave for the Natalie Portman video from the other night, instead putting it on your own site under this charming little banner: "Now, instead of searching the web for "borrowed" NBC highlights, you can go to the source! We've taken your viral favorites and gathered them into one convenient location. Watch. React. Tell a friend.". Aw, that's adorable. Naive, but adorable. Part of the convenience for people is that they can watch them on a lot of different sites, having to rely on one site that offers the video in one format isn't really convenient. It's actually kind of annoying, especially since you offer it in Windows Media Player, which doesn't go over well with most Macs. And now Fox is showing you up, by supporting the distribution of this 'Simpson's' promo from the UK -

See that there? See how I just put that up on my own site? Yeah, that's convenient. That's viral. What you've got going is more of a contained virus, which is boring. Viruses are only fun when they get out, and turn the world's population into zombie like rage heads. Or something.

So not only is Fox beating you in the ratings, but it's also beating you in the good will race. Way to go. If it wasn't for 'Scrubs', 'The Office', 'My Name Is Earl', and 'Conan', I would totally be done with you. Yeah, just imagine how much that would sting, to lose my precious, non Nielsen viewership. You're shaking in your boots, I just know it.

Sincerely,
It Doesn't Really Matter Since No One From NBC Will Read This, Unless Of Course They Decide To Send Me A Cease And Desist Letter.

All Things Go

I applied to art school under the assumption that there would be little to no work involved. I was lied to.

I realize now that every possible things that could be written about the Oscars, every joke that could be made about the actual jokes that were made during the show have been made. I went 5 for 9 in my predictions, which... is a mixed bag, since I was hoping there would be upsets, and there were, just not where I wanted them to be. 'Crash' won. It seems like an upset, but looking back, should we be surprised that people in LA decided to honor a movie about themselves? It's kind of what the Oscars are all about. I was more upset by the mini sweep 'Memoirs of a Geisha' had going in the technical categories, especially Dion Beebe beating Robert Elswit in the best cinematography category. And then he had the gall to thank Sony for having the bravery to make this movie. Bravery? Bravery in adapting one of the most successful books of the last 10 years into a major studio film? The only thing I could say was brave about that production was in making a movie about Japanese people in English, especially when your star can barely make it through a thirty second award show bit with out sounding like a malfunctioning robot (Don't get me wrong, I love Ziyi Zhang, I think she's a terrific actress... when she knows what she is saying. Seriously, go pick up '2046', you'll see). Do you know the definition of 'shenanigans' Mr. Beebe? I think you must, because you just committed it.

Other than that though... I learned a few things. Jon Stewart is always funny, especially when you put him in the same room as the 3 - 6 Mafia ("For those of you keeping count at home, Martin Scorcese, 0. 3 - 6 Mafia, 1"). Why Keira Knightly is so attractive ("God Dust", according to Stephen Colbert). I laugh with Will Ferrell and Steve Carell. I laugh at Ben Stiller. Then I weep. Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin are the most talented actresses in Hollywood, I honestly didn't 't want them to stop their Altman introduction speech (It also got me really excited for 'A Prairie Home Companion'). And also, thank you Ang Lee, for officially killing "I wish I could quit you" jokes by making one in your speech. I would have been annoyed by it, but I can't get annoyed with Ang Lee. He's like your friend's dad who picks you up from soccer practice, and barely says 5 words in the ten years that you know him. Your dad's friend who makes gay cowboy movies. Actually, that sounded creepy.

So, feeling a little blue, what better way to pick myself up than watch two action packed hours of '24'? The return of both Kim and Tony? And the guy from 'Soul Man'? As is my birthright, I say 'Wicked'. And for the first hour, it fully satisfied my need, my need for speed. A real time race to contain a canister of nerve gas AND a middle age woman takes one in the leg? 'Crash' what? Dion Bebee who? But then hour two rolled around. Kim shows up, with creepy boyfriend/ therapist/ expert 'Van Dyke' wearer C Thomas Howell in tow, and then breaks Jacks heart by giving him the brush off. Tony wakes up and finds out Michelle is dead, then fills with himself with 'Soul Patch' rage. Fine, I like where this is all going... and then. I really feel confident about the state of our national security when the fictional TV show where, I'm pretty sure CIA agents are glorified and portrayed as much more exciting than they actually are, has it's headquarter's security breached over and over again. One of Julian Sand's oddly Russian bad guys opens a can of the SYNTOX nerve gas in the building, trapping everyone in sealed off rooms. Except for Edgar, because he's large and can't run as fast as the other, 'prettier' agents. Which I guess means that he had to die. And die he did. He died hard.

As the show has really defined its formula over the past few seasons (watch a rerun of season one, it's amazing how different it is), one of the nicest things that it's been able to do is to build these subtle character arcs into all the heavy plot, and I think one of the best ones has been the weird kind of relationship between Mary Lynn Rajskub's Chloe and Louis Lombardi's Edgar. They're both nerds, they're both weird looking (in the context of all the pretty pretty people that they work with and fight against), and both are stubborn and slightly annoying. But over the last year and a half, one of the joys of watching this show has been the few moments when they would show some actual concern for each other (Chloe covering for Edgar after his mom died, Edgar worrying when Chloe was almost killed at the beginning of this year) and then covering up their concern with their usual mix of bitterness and work ethic. Which made the last moment of last night's episode, as Edgar gave his last doe eyed expression as he mumbled "Chloe?", and she just had to look helplessly through the glass, crying. I'm also amazed at how far Rajskub has come since her days as "One of those people in the background" on Mr. Show to actually making me tear up. They've killed a lot of major characters on '24', characters that I liked more than Edgar. But never like this, never just so... sad. This was by far the best use of the 'silent clock' since Teri's death at the end of season one and, I'm, still not really over it. There's no joke here, but feel free to make your own snarky comment over the fact that I almost cried while watching television last night. You heartless bastards.

But there is happiness in the world. As evidenced by this. Watching this made me take back what I said about Natalie Portman's hair earlier, it must have just been what ever they put in her hair in that Vanity Fair shoot. She looks good with short hair, kind of like a punky Jean Seberg. And seeing her crash a bottle over her head might just be enough to make me forget about '24'. Edgar who... actually no. I'm still upset. Man, fuck you Jon Cassar, or Howard Gordon, or David Fury, or whoever is responsible for all of this. I need a snack.

Winners Are People Who Don't Lose

Despite rumours you made have heard, I am not a man from the future. But I do like to act like it sometimes, like when I try to predict the Oscar winners:

Best Cinematography: Robert Elswit, 'Good Night, And Good Luck'

I don't really know how cinematographers go about voting, if the politics that plague the other categories figure in. I'm guessing not, cinematographers seem like a more grizzled crowd. But I hope Elswit wins, not only for the beautiful black and white photography in 'Good Night', not to mention the stuff he did in 'Syriana' this year too, but also for his career so far, especially for the stuff he did with Paul Thomas Anderson. I still watch 'Punch Drunk Love', and pick out new things that they did. But Rodrigo Prieto probably has a good chance of pulling it out for 'Brokeback'.

Best Screenplay, Adapted: Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana, 'Brokeback Mountain'

Two of the other nominees here ('The Constant Gardener', 'A History Of Violence'') seem to have been other wise deserted by the academy, and 'Munich' seems to have been nominated just because it had to, which leaves it between 'Capote' and 'Brokeback', and I think writers would much rather give an award to a guy who has been one of the best American writers for the last 40 years rather than that guy from "Judging Amy' who wrote his first screenplay on whim. That sounded meaner than I meant it to - I like Dan Futterman, and I like 'Capote', but 'Brokeback' was great, and McMurtry is way over due for writing 'The Last Picture Show'. So they'll win. That's what I was gettng at.

Best Screenplay, Original: Paul Haggis, Robert Moresco, 'Crash'

My least favorite film nominated in this category, but people really seem to like this movie, and the screenplay category is where they usually honor otherwise overlooked movies.

Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Michelle Williams, 'Brokeback Mountain'

This is a tough one to call, like I said before, but I think they'll want to give 'Brokeback' an acting award, and this looks the place to do it. Rachel Weisz has just as good a chance winning this, having won the Globe and the SAG, and either way, I'm happy.

Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Matt Dillon, 'Crash'

Clooney is the guy to beat in this one, since they obviously wanted to honor him this year, and he won't win in any of the other categories he's up for. But if anyone can beat him, it's Dillon, who has the nice, comeback kid angle, which might trump Clooney's 'Hollywood Golden Boy' angle. What I'm saying, is that there are angles in play.

Best Actress in a Leading Role: Reese Witherspoon, 'Walk The Line'

She's won all the awards coming into this one, and she'll probably take this one too. Plus, she sings! Felicity Huffman is the only one who could give her trouble here, but I doubt enough people saw 'Transamerica' for her to be a threat.

Best Actor in a Leading Role: Philip Seymour Hoffman, 'Capote'

I was kind of against Hoffman until last night when I finally saw 'Capote', since I like Heath Ledger, and the way he beautifully underplayed his character in 'Brokeback'. I thought Hoffman was going to be doing big, showy, acting, which the Academy usually goes for, but I was really surprised by how restrained he was, especially considering he was playing a real guy who was known for being over the top. I admit that it felt much more like acting than Ledger, but I think more of that is that I've seen Hoffman in more roles than Ledger, and that he was playing a real person. With that in mind, as much as I loved Ledger and would like to see him win, I'm fine with seeing Hoffman win, since he probably will.

Best Director: Ang Lee, 'Brokeback Mountain'

Ang Lee has been making Oscar nominated films for the last 15 years or so, and he made the most nominated film of the year, so, I think its a fair bet that he'll finally get an Oscar.

Best Picture: 'Brokeback Mountain'

After seeing 'Capote' last night, I saw all the best picture nominees. It was really exciting for me, like the day I collected all the Pokemon (even that secret 151st Pokemon. That's how awesome it was). And, I honestly think that 'Brokeback' was the best picture of the year, at least out of the ones nominated here. It struck the best mix of characters and story, and just every aspect of it was incredibly well done. So, yeah.

Could I be right? I might. Ignore the fact that that was a rhyme. You're better than that.

Four Hours In Chicago

My roommate and I have a nice schedule set up, one where I always fall asleep early in the night, to be woken up when he returns at around 3 or four in the morning. And he's usually so out of it that I can do anything I want to over here, and it doesn't wake him up, which is wonderful, because I've been getting behind in my sousaphone practice lately. It's always kind of fun to be awake at this time of day, as the light starts to come up. It also allows me to take part of one of the oddest secrets I've seen since moving to Chicago - buildings love their fancy light displays, they make them noticeable and give them the chance to celebrate Greek Independence day, whenever that is. I say fine, and kudos. And the 311 S Wacker Drive building is a cool building (tallest in the world to not have a proper name attached to it, huh? Is that a fun fact or what?), cylindrical in shape, a nice compliment to the building block physique of it's neighbor the Sears Tower. In an attempt to make people in the surrounding buildings have an easier time getting to sleep, they shut off the lights at the top of the building at 10, though it doesn't really make a difference to me (I have a clear view of it from my room), in the total glow of the city. But every night at 4 a.m., it comes back on. Just, click. It stays on, and just fades into the daylight, so you can't really tell if it's still on or not. I stare at it during the day sometimes, never sure if it's on or not, if it's mocking me. Normal people don't have to deal with this, as far as they know, it turns on in the evening, goes off at 10. The fools, I think. The lucky, lucky fools.

It's Oscar weekend! Whoo! Or at least that's what all of the morning shows are trying to seem enthused about. I'm excited, but not in the same, freshly roasted coffee way they are. Mines more of a grinding feeling in my lower spine enthused. Which is the best type of enthusiasm, in my humble opinion. I've been thinking a lot about the best supporting actress category, a category known for it's supposed curse, for ruining the actresses who win it's careers (Where have you gone, Mercedes Ruehl, Mira Sorvino, Kim Basinger?). And even though highly acclaimed actresses have been winning it for the past few years, it seems to me that the curse is still kind of sticking around. Jennifer Connelly went into the production of 'The Hulk' with an oscar, and now this year her director and co-star are both attached to best picture nominees, while all she had was 'Dark Water'. Catherine Zeta Jones? Two sequels that no one really cared about, and it's a good thing 'The Terminal' was so God awful, otherwise people would have noticed she was terrible in it. Renee Zelwegger also made a terrible sequel, but to be fair, I haven't seen 'Cinderella Man', and if the release on that film had been handled differently, maybe she'd be nominated this year too. But still, she made 'Bridget Jones 2: The Edge of Reason', so for all practical reasons, she's dead to me. Dead I say. Cate Blanchett... well she had a kid, and hasn't done anything since winning the award, so who knows. I think she'll be alright though. I mean, come on, she was Cubby.

Why am I so bitter about the fact that arguably every Best Supporting Actress winner since Angelina Jolie won in 2000 has seen her career decline since winning their Oscar? Because I love every actress nominated for it this year, and damn it I don't want any of them to go away. It also makes it hard to pick who the winner will be. And my back really hurts. And its 6 o'clock in the morning and I'm awake. These are all things that add to my general bitterness. Oh, and life in general. Add that in there. I almost hope that Frances McDormand wins, because even if her career takes a slide, she's still married to the guy who gives her some of the best roles that she's ever had. But she won't, because no one saw 'North Country'. Everyone did see 'Brokeback Mountain', which gives Michelle Williams an advantage. Between 'Brokeback' and 'The Baxter', she absolutely floored me last year, and she almost ruined 'Brokeback' for me, since even though I was invested in the main love story in the film, I began to lose sympathy for the Ennis character because of the terrible way he treated her. All that mumble about 'not fixing' and 'standing it' doesn't include at least pretending to be nice to her? Mumblin' bastard. Though in talking with my friends, it's become clear that I was alone in these feelings, and that most of them find her 'funny looking'. To them I say, and by 'them' I mean you since you're most likely reading this, I'll see you in hell.

Amy Adams character in 'Junebug' is kind of like the Alma you're supposed to feel for, the sweet naive girl married to a confused, simple man. I guess that makes it an easier role to play, but I could also see it becoming really annoying and grating if it hadn't been done by someone as sweet and talented as Adams. And she apparently can do a sweet Ariel voice, so more power to her. The only problem I really had with the Oscar nomination this year was that 'The Constant Gardner' was so overlooked (I would gladly switch out 'Crash' and Haggis for 'Gardener' and Meirelles), since I think it was my favorite movie of last year, and a large part of that was due in part to Rachel Weisz, in a role where she simultaneously shed the disgrace of 'The Mummy' films and lived up to the potential she showed in 'About A Boy'. Weisz has the kind of awards momentum going into Sunday, but then there is also Catherine Keener, (I haven't seen Capote yet, I'm going today though) who is kind of the actor's actress, with the type of career people really admire. And apparently, according to the current issue of EW, Academy members really loved 'The 40 Year Old Virgin', so you can't rule her out either.

Does any of this matter? Apparently the US government is totally inept, the middle east is about to blow up, and Jessica Alba is suing Playboy for saying she is sexy. So, basically, the world is ending. But I'm stuck in a small apartment, and am far too lazy to do anything about it. So yeah, the Oscars matter. Because I'm bored.

Amazing Adventures Of Molemen, Zombie Children, And Howler Monkeys!

Ah, spring time. At least I think it's spring time. Growing up in the Berkshires, where spring lasts for about five seconds, just going from cold and snowy to cold and muddy, I'm not exactly sure what spring looks like. I think there are flowers involved. I'm not positive. I still don't know what we're having here in Chicago... it's cold, but crisp, sunny and windy. The only way I know it's winter and that I know we're coming out of it (other than the infallible meteorological practice of groundhog watching) is that we're moving away from the current crop of blindingly bad movies that are clogging up the theaters towards the kind of smaller interesting movies that have been coming out this time of year for the last few years. I saw Munich on Monday, which, was a moving experience. I'm not talking about the movie exactly (though it was pretty good), but, the actual experience of seeing the movie. People always claim that one of the reason that theater receipts are down and people enjoy watching movies at home is because they hate putting up with the crowds at the theaters. They've tired of putting up with people who come on dates where they guy apparently just wanted a nice darkened place to say obliviously annoying things to the girl, kids who like to pay 9.50 to sit in a dark loud room and play the fun game of 'Who can shout the stupidest possible thing at the screen in order to impress the rest of the kids here?', and old people who bitch through a movie they're in only because they read a good review in the New York Times but apparently still have no idea what the movie was supposed to be about. And I'm someone who still likes going to the theater. Sometimes you just need to see a movie with other people - like as much as I love 'Serenity', the few times I've watched it since it has come out on video just haven't given me the same experience as the two times I saw it with an audience. I feel like much more of a nerd cheering as spaceships fly across my screen at home, but when a hundred people are doing it with you, you don't care that you're a big dork wearing a 'Blue Sun' T-Shirt that I ordered over the internet. I mean, the hypothetical 'you' doesn't.

Anyway, I figured that with a more personal movie like Munich, a little silence and respect would be a better environment to see it in. So, what better time than a Monday afternoon? But instead of silence, I found that the entire movie theater was engulfed in a deafening shriek. My first thought was of course, "HOWLER MONKEYS!", and I took the appropriate measures of dropping to the floor in a swift barrel roll, and then crawling to the escalator, much to the wonder of the elderly woman validating her parking. I paid her no heed, knowing full well she would soon be monkey fodder. But as I made my way up the escalator, I realized that the howling was in fact children, streams and streams of them, coming down from the theaters. I feared for my life at this point, knowing that no amount of my super maneuvers would help me escape a hundred, brain eating children. I knew I was really in trouble when I looked back at the two men behind me, as one of them was hit square on the head with a bag of popcorn, and his friend laughed at him (because, what are friends for really?), so not only was I dealing with ravenous children, but apparently, they had super aim.

I'm positive that the only reason I'm alive to tell my tale is due to the teachers who were on the scene, who were as good at screaming as the children, declaring that girls bus was on the left, boys bus on the right. They cleared out behind me as I bought the my ticket, but I didn't really have a chance to watch them, since me and the usher both had to lean down and scream what we were saying through the small hole at the bottom of the booth. I remember when I was younger that there was a woman in the area who paid for high school classes to go see Schindler's List when it came out, but this was a class of second graders, so I doubt they would be going back to school to discuss the consequences of our middle eastern policies after a rousing screening of 'Syriana'. The only movie I can imagine they would be seeing is 'Curious George', and even though I've been out of public schools a few years now, I thought they were still pushing reading, or at least still pretending like they were. Hell, the kids themselves didn't have to read it, it could be read to them. But to be fair, it just wouldn't be the same without a calm and relaxing Jack Johnson score. Ah, taste the Hawaiian breeze.

After all the furious noise I had to go through to see the movie, I was looking forward to a nice peaceful screening. And I had it for a while, being the only person in the theater up until the beginning of the movie. And even though smaller crowds are a nice plus, one down side of seeing a movie on a Monday is that they apparently don't bother picking up after Sunday's shows - finding a seat was a minefield of napkins, bottles, and what I pray to God was an ice cream stain. But I found a nice little seat in the middle row, and I was ready for the show to begin, excited I would be alone. A man walked in just as the film started unspooling, and, through the first half hour of the movie, about 10 more Johnny Come Latelys showed up. And then left in the middle. Do they kill everyone on their list? Does it compromise their values? They'll never know. They'll never even know why it was called Munich. I imagined them just wandering from theater to theater, catching a few minutes here and there, watching movies like people look at pictures in a museum. What an odd and ambiguous world they must live in, where a stranger calls Harrison Ford to inform him that he's kidnapped his family, and Sam Jackson dons a fatsuit to get them back, only to end up at a wacky family reunion. They live in a world where movies don't make sense, where they have no resolution, where they all blend together and just go on and on forever. The movies are no different to them than actual life, which, is, against the entire point of movies. So as I left the theater dealing with the questions the movie posed (not to mention that sobering final shot), I was also dealing with the idea of this sad race of mole people coming into existence. Like, do they stay for the night shows, blending in with the normal crowd? Where do they go at nights? Is this what they do instead of making friends? Is this what I do instead of making friends? Am I really a moleman, only my school schedule doesn't allow it? That was ice cream on the seat next to me, right?

If you too wish encounter your local molemen, feel free to visit your local megaplex during the hours of 11 to 5 on any weekday. Maybe you can do it while taking in some of these fine films that will be coming out over the next few months: 'The Hills Have Eyes','Duck Season', 'V For Vendetta' (also, Natalie Portman hosts SNL this week. I don't know whether or not molemen will be involved), 'Brick', 'Thank You For Smoking', 'The Inside Man', 'A Scanner Darkly', and 'Slither". Ah, spring is just around the corner. Of course the molemen don't know that. I'm pretty sure they're blind. Which makes the fact they go to the movies even weirder.