All orchestral concerts could benefit from random bursts of flame during the performance.

A forty-foot tall LCD screen showing movie clips perfectly timed to the music couldn’t hurt either.

These are the lessons I learned at Star Wars in Concert.

Simply put, it was one of the most entertaining things I ever saw: an entirely new way to look at orchestral music. Classical music for the ADD generation – you have to present images with the sounds because our brains can’t conjure the images anymore. I couldn’t honestly tell you if showing battle scenes behind a performance of the 1812 Overture would cheapen or enhance the experiment but I’d sure like to see it tried by a serious orchestra.

On top of boiling jets of fire, smoke, lasers and very-big-teevees; Anthony Daniels came out to narrate the whole thing complete with a very nifty wardrobe malfunction at an appropriate moment.

A triumph. A tour de force. I am damn glad I went.

Did they really make the nancy-boy from 90210 a character in the Terminator series?

Holy Jeebus. I don’t know whether this is the total revenge of the 80s or 90s: a Terminator TV series, an imminent Knight Rider revival and 90210 characters popping up in hideously inconsistent places.

Hah, hah. What happens when a bunch of hippie/commie/progressive/socialist/hipster wankers put on an adaptation of 1984? Why you mug for laughs, of course! Everyone knows Big Brother is George Bush, or maybe Cheney, or maybe Rumsfeld and there’s nothing to really be concerned about. The idea of any of those machievellian idiots actually gaining such dizzying heights of power over the mind, body and soul is laughable. Hence the laughter.

I have invented my own Newspeak word: hipcom. Or hipprocom. Or sochipcom? It’s a bizarre world and we do need a new language to describe it. Guess what it means.

I have commented before on the inverse relationship between the number of times a nation refers to its supposed egalitarian instincts in its offical name and the actual quality of life for its people: People’s Republic of China, for instance. The only applicable word there is China. Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Again, only Korea is true and the addition of Democratic implies they’re even more repressive than China – which is also true. I find a similar logic applies to group nomenclatures, like the theatre troupe that put on this show – The People’s Branch Theatre. Don’t know what the branch is meant to refer to, except possibly the one they’ll use to hang folks like me come the revolution. But I suspect the use of the word “People” is meant to appeal to all their patchouli wearing brethren and demonstrate solidarity with everyone. Of course, if these folks ever actually came in contact with the “people” they’d probably run screaming in whatever direction is likely to lead to an overpriced cup of coffee with a bizarre sizing ritual.

It’s a shame. Orwell would merely shake his head in the conviction he was right. It’s just that the thought police aren’t actually agents of the government.

Johnny Cash has seen me through some tough times. After spending most of my life doing my utmost to avoid country music in all its horrible forms I developed a deep love of the Man in Black around the time of his death. A death, which coincidentally occured at the same time I was having one of the most dismal months of my life. The triumvirate of Social Distortion, Bouncing Souls and Johnny Cash carried me through that time but it was Johnny who growled out the words that encompass the best and worst of manhood.

So, how f***king annoying is it that two of the least-likely contenders in Hollywood have been cast as Johnny and June Cash? I will give you that Joaquin Phoenix is a pretty decent actor. I will even give you that he resembles the Man in his heyday. But Christ, man! Is there a less manly fellow working in Hollywood today? And Jesus, how is he supposed to do the Voice? Brother’s got as trembly pitched a tenor as I do. OK. I’ll give a brother the benefit of the doubt for now but here’s the travesty – guess who plays June Carter Cash?

Greasy Reese Witherspoon.

Hellfire and damnation! That lady can’t even play an effete cheerleader right! How the hell is she supposed to play a classy broad?

I tell you, if I ever find out who Lisa Beach, Shirley Fulton Crumley, and Sarah Katzman are there will be hell to pay! Goddamned wimmen casting directors thinking with whatever the female equivalent of their johnsons are and picking pretty-boy weirdos and brain-dead blondes instead of real men and talented women.

But who ought to play the Man? That’s a tough one.

In something more than eight hours I’ll get out of here, sidle up to a nearby bar and ask for “Three pints of bitter. And quickly please, the world’s about to end.”

I’ve got my towel and copy of the Hitchhiker’s Guide safely ensconced in a satchel and soon to be joined by at least two packets of peanuts.

Are you ready?

Baseball comes back to Washington, DC tonight. I hate Washington, DC but the more baseball around, the better. Besides, the new team leaves us only one ill-considered team away from purifying baseball of its cross-border errors.

Coincidentally, today is the anniversary of the first Presidential First pitch. Take it away ESPN:

The tradition dates back to 1910 – 95 years ago to this very day, believe it or not – when President William H. Taft, once a teenage ballplayer, flipped a pitch to Senators pitcher Walter Johnson. Ever since, every commander in chief save softball-lovin’ President Carter has thrown at least one Opening Day ball.

Didn’t Taft also invent the 7th Inning stretch? And get stuck in his own bathtub?

Baseball’s back. And we are all the better for it.

I suppose everyone else has already said everything there is to say.

Ah hah, sez I! Not yet! For I haven’t!

• Chris Rock was abysmally bad. The Oscars need to have a bit of class, that’s part of the charm. He had no class. He came on stage and acted as if it were a typical stand-up performance in some run down comedy club. If you want to raise the ratings make the show more interesting – bring the viewers up, don’t bring the show down.

• The best part of the whole thing, sadly, was the “typical moviegoer” interview segment. It’s damned sad to realize that people really are as damned ignorant as the New York Times says they are. Damned New York Times! Anyone who didn’t laugh loudly at least a couple of times in Sideways or wasn’t completely blown away by Million Dollar Baby has no soul, man. No soul.

  And to think those poor, benighted souls hadn’t even bothed to see those films, choosing instead to spend their ill-gotten funds on White Chicks just makes me weep for the entirety of Western Civilisation.

• Fashion, fashion, fashion: Why the hell was Johnny Depp wearing an ankh? What’s with Samuel L. Jackson’s track-suit tux? Was Natalie Portman pissed she didn’t get a part in Troy or Alexander or something?
• Charlie Kaufman is my new hero. He’s even better in person than Nicolas Cage pretending to be him.

I know there’s more but I’m damned if I can remember what I wanted to say. All in all, I am very happy with the choices. I don’t think I’d have picked Hilary Swank – she was the worst part of that film – but other than that, I am a happy man for a change.

Updated! 03.02.2005
I remember what I forgot. What wiggler votes for a picture about a paraplegic against a picture about the last days of Hitler as Best Foreign Film? All I could think was, “The Fuehrer will hear of this!”

I hate it when perfectly good weekends go bad on Monday morning. I think I will sleep through all further Mondays.

Hunter S. Thompson – patron saint of weirdos – shot himself at home. Naturally the loss is great, even if you feel his best days were behind him. The real disappointment is that he took the coward’s way out, the way of the sissy, the weakling – those without the peculiar brand of toughness he often espoused.

I’ll miss the odd old bastard but I’ll shed no tears for suicides.

So much for being chock full of true grit.

Seems like a full-scale Revolution against George Lucas is in the offing. A full tally of his crimes against the people is being readied and the trial is nearly underway.

I am undecided. All of the changes made in the Special Editions and new DVDs are unneccesary, most are downright insulting. Still, I bought the SEs on video when they were released and I purchased the new DVD set the day it was released. One guy compared our dilemma to that of a crack addict: gotta have it, no matter how bad for us it is. Possible. Still, I felt so dirty after first viewing Attack of the Clones that I stayed up until nearly sunrise watching the oldest copy of Star Wars that I own. Surely that marks me as redeemable?

In George’s defense I will say only this: he is, or was, an artist. Surely an artist retains the right to deface his own work? Is the fact the original was a gift to the world a reason to deny the creator’s desire to tinker with things? Adam was nigh perfect, Joseph Merrick was decidedly not; yet God decided on some cosmetic revisions. I guess Lucas is entitled to same.

Shamelessly lifted from Derb:

Chad picked up on my un-expounded upon theme in his comment below about Shrek 2: there are some films that are just excellent but you simply don’t think to look at. In that category I would list: Shrek & Shrek 2, Chicken Run, Dave, Toy Story and Toy Story 2, etc. Then there are flicks that are incredible but too painful to watch over and over again: Lost in Translation, and Leaving Las Vegas come to mind.

The latter film I watched once, went on a bender sufficiently similar to the main character’s that I woke up in the middle of the night with the delirium tremens and had to have a drink to go back to sleep. I decided I’d never need to see that film again. It wasn’t the bender that bothered me – an occasional incapacitating bender is good for the soul – it was that the film was so powerful and so melancholy that it would be physically painful to watch it again.

What flicks am I missing? I know there are others.

I finally caved and subscribed to Netflix. I had long resisted this step, mostly because I wasn’t sure I’d look at enough films to make the price worthwhile. Since I never go to any video store, however, I guess the convenience and the possibility that I will actually look at some of the films I’ve long wanted to see but didn’t want to buy outweighs the cost issues.

Guess I’ll have to fill everyone in on how it all works out.

For now though, I’m stoked! I’ve only been signed up for about five hours now and I’ve already got more than 20 flicks in the queue. For the next couple of weeks – barring an oddball little Katie Holmes flick that seems interesting – I’ll be knee deep in rock and roll flicks. The list thus far:

Pieces of April
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Velvet Goldmine
24 Hour Party People
Hard Core Logo
Sid & Nancy
Rock ‘n’ Roll High School
A Hard Day’s Night: Collector’s Series
American Splendor
Shattered Glass
Roger Dodger
American Movie
Dirty Pretty Things
Amelie
The Office: Series 1
The Office: Series 2
Run Lola Run
High Fidelity
The Royal Tenenbaums
Mayor of the Sunset Strip

Did I miss anything? At some point I’ll have to add Conan, Ilsa: She-Wolf of the SS and Predator to the list. For now, I’ll be basking in high quality motion pictures for the forseeable future. Swanky.

Sometime between yesterday and Thursday, 10 years ago, Kurt Cobain went into a room on his property, shot up a massive dose of heroin and ventilated his head with a big damned shotgun.

Apparently, that was enough to depress my entire generation.

Sorry kids, I just don’t see it. Did Nirvana change music? Only in that their sound – ripped off as it was – managed to hit it big. I don’t know how that happened. I doubt they expected it. I know their record company didn’t expect it. It just happened that they were there at the moment where punk suddenly filled the musical needs of an entire generation rather than a few malcontents.

I like Nirvana. Sort of. Given the choice of listening to them or to Stiff Little Fingers or the Clash or the Sex Pistols or the Dickies I’d choose any of the latter. I can’t forgive Nirvana for starting the pseudo-punk-pop trend that’s given us any of the eminently forgettable one-hit wonders who clutter the airwaves and festivals these days – Blink 182, Good Charlotte, Alien Ant Farm – even though I like some of those cats’ tunes as well.

And I have no sympathy for suicides. Regardless of the good you may have done, the lives you may have touched or the classics you may have created if you don’t have the moxie to smack yourself in the face, realize there are others that have it worse than you and that your life is never entirely your own you’re a wimp. Plain and simple. This world is no place for the weak.

Ten years later then all I have to say on the subject is the cold-hearted bitterness I think every time I hear of a suicide:

Thanks. Thank you for not wasting my air. Candy-ass.

Has the entire world gone completely ’round the bend?

No wait, don’t answer that.

I just took a marketing survey regarding non-stick cooking products. Naturally, I have my product of choice so the survey ended up asking me tons and tons of questions about advertising slogans. None of them touched more than peripherally on the capabilities of the cooking spray: does it keep food from sticking, does it make clean-up easier, does it not make your liver explode, etc. Instead all the slogans started out with some offhand reference to some ability of the cooking spray and then thundered ahead with lines like: ” . . . makes clean up easier. Which makes me more confident in the kitchen. Which makes me feel like I’m taking better care of my family.” The real kicker was when they presented you with a list of finalized slogans and asked whether you agreed with the statement: “I am amazed at what a product like Pam can do to make my life better.”

Is it just me or does determining how a non-stick cooking spray makes you feel seem completely irrelevant to the job at hand? I don’t give a good goddamn if I feel like I’ve just had rose water squirted up my arse as I squirt Mazola onto my frying pan – does the bloody stuff keep my hamburger from shearing in two when I pry it up with a spatula? Maybe they’d be better off asking the hamburger how it feels about the cooking spray.

“I like PAM because it makes me feel like I’m playing naked Twister in a pool of the finest baby oil while my innards are cooked to a delicious 160 degrees.”

I haven’t seen The Passion yet. I haven’t taken the time to re-read the Gospel accounts either so I will reserve my thoughts on the swirling controversy until I can hold forth from a position of knowledge.

After having read two commentaries on the film and its supposed anti-Semitism I did want to say this:

Isn’t it curious that, by and large, the same people condemning this film as anti-Semitic and a piece of “pious pornography” are very likely the same people who daily damn Israel for defending itself against the same treatment the Christ received?

Maybe it’s just me but that seems awfully peculiar.

Finally, after years and years and years and years (you get the picture) production has begun on The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy!

Right, you may all applaud now.

OK, enough joy. Time for the pain. Meet the cast:

Ford Prefect	Arthur Dent	Trillian

I’m actually a bit of an old school hip-hop fan but come on – Mos Def as Ford Prefect?! Sorry, that just won’t work for me. “Common Ahthur, we’z got to get the shizzle offa dis joint afore the Vogon mofos blows dat shizit up!” Who’s going to be Zaphod? Marlon Brando?

I just heard that Captain Kangaroo died. Next we’ll hear that the entire cast of the Electric Company died in a freak transformer explosion.

Nobody’s left from childhood except cartoons and the modern versions of Transformers and GI Joes suck. It’s a damn shame.

I feel I ought to pay some tribute to the Captain. Is the band Mr. Greenjeans still playing anywhere around here?

I feel so useless, I don’t really have anything to say about the whole Pete Rose thing that others haven’t already said. Still, if this forum is a place for me to babble endlessly about what’s on my mind I may as well be out with it.

I have a soft spot for Pete Rose. He may be the first ballplayer that I actually knew who he was and why he was special. I would have been approaching full sentience right about the time the Phils made their successful 1980 World Series run and Rose featured prominently in my mind in the race to the title. Everything that happened since is pretty much irrelevant to me. I can’t figure out for the life of me why someone would leave Philly for Cincinatti anyhow.

Regardless of my sentiments, Pete Rose should not be reinstated; and if he is reinstated he definitely should not be elected to the Hall of Fame. As so many have already said, baseball’s cardinal rule is “thou shalt not gamble on the sport.” It’s pretty plainly spelled out: if you gamble on a game you’re not involved in you get tossed for a year, if you gamble on a game you are involved in you’re out for life. Black and white, kids. That’s the way it is.

Is it unfortunate Pete Rose won’t be in the Hall of Fame? Absolutely. It seems odd to have one of the greats not in the Hall, just ask Shoeless Joe Jackson. But the rules are the rules, despite what our “if it feels good, do it” society might want you to think. Without the rules we really are on the road to anarchy.

So, sorry Charlie. No brass plaque for you.

Note the comment in the body:

Communists Now Least Threatening Group In U.S.

WASHINGTON, DC – According to a report released Tuesday by the Pentagon, Communists rank last on a list of 238 threats to national security. “Communists may now safely be ignored,” Secretary of Defense William Cohen said. “The Red Menace has been surpassed by militia groups, religious extremists, ecoterrorists, cybercriminals, Hollywood producers, and angry drivers.” Other groups deemed more threatening than Communists include rap-metal bands (#96), escaped zoo animals (#202), and Belgians (#237).

See! See! Belgians are listed just above rotten Commies as threats to national security! I told you all! You heard it here first!

Rotten stinking Belgian bastards! We must be vigilant.

By the way, Canadians were number 239. A threat, but so pathetic the government couldn’t muster the ink needed to list them formally. Stupid Canadians.

All kinds of nifty stuff on the ‘net today and I haven’t even been poking around for a full hour.

• Episode III has been reviewed already. I have to admit, even though the guy is only going from what we all expect to happen I reckon he’s pretty close on the details. I wouldn’t even count out the Jerry Springer thing after seeing the horrible sterotypes in the last couple of flicks (the Mel’s Diner thing in Ep II, the miserly Jew and greedy Japanese in Ep I).

• One of the best articles I’ve read yet on the atmosphere of slot machines. The dude hits it pretty much on the head. It’s part of the reason I enjoy going to Atlantic City – that’s more or less rock bottom. When you’re hanging out in the Plaza at 2 AM pumping quarters into the slots without even looking up, there’s really not anywhere else to fall. Makes me happy to be alive – for all my hassles at least I’m not those people.

More to come later I expect, I know I had something to say but I’m too tired to even think just now. Here’s hoping for a day with nothing to do but read.

I am busily engaged in trying to catch up on the summer movies. Until this week I hadn’t seen anything since I finally broke down and went to see Matrix Reloaded. But now I’ve seen the Hulk and Pirates of the Caribbean.

First, the Hulk. Pretty cool flick, not at all what anyone was expecting I think. I am kind of amazed they managed to make a movie out of the Hulk at all. I mean, I never saw the point of the comic. A great big green or grey dude running around smashing things up? And with villians like the Leader – how stupid was he – there just never seemed to be a point. In fact, the only issue of the Hulk I own is the one with Rocky Raccoon. Still, the flick was worth seeing. Much more on the level of Daredevil than Spider-man. Lots of what purported to be deep philosophical stuff but turned out just to be daddy/son pap.

But, you did get to see “Hulk smash!” a fair bit and that makes it all worthwhile.

Saw Pirates last night. Damn fine flick if you ask me, but I’m a sucker for anything with Johnny Depp. That dude is hands down the most incredible actor working today. Tom Hanks, Denzel, Val Kilmer, etc are all fun to watch but they’re always the same guy with the same vocal characteristics and the same mannerisms/expressions. Johnny Depp is an entirely different person every time he’s on screen. Better than Brad Pitt even, and I dig Brad when he’s doing his nutty Tyler/Jeffrey persona.

Lots of explosions, lots of cool skeleton effects, lots of laughing at Depp, lots of swanky sword fights, decent kit on most of the characters.

Definitely the best summer movie I’ve seen so far and from what I’ve read of the other biggies this year it’s in the running to be the best period. Check it out, whether you have time or not.

Next week, the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen – loved the comic but Tom Sawyer, the car and the machine guns offend me – Terminator 3, Charlie’s Angels and if there’s time to spare I still want to check out the fish movie.

. . . seems to be merrily winging her way through the ranks of the old guard. I mean, really! Katharine Hepburn, Buddy Hackett, Gregory Peck, Strom Thurmond, et al in a relatively short span of time. It’s getting ridiculous. Why on earth couldn’t these talented people be spared and rejuvenated in exchange for the demise of people like Adam Sandler, Rob Schneider, Jim Carrey or any of the other annoying, no talent hacks we have to deal with on a daily basis? Maybe it’s a matter of numbers, no five of today’s average moviestar could hold a candle to any of the folks we’ve lost in the past couple of weeks.

It’s sad in a way to see the passing of the guard particularly in light of the absolute dearth of culture we have today but, at the same time, if this generation is dying out it means we’re on the verge of a new revolution. Just think, after the immediate post WWII generation dies out or retires – as is happening now – all we have left is the baby boom/hippie generation to rid ourselves of and we can finally move ahead with the business of the nation and the world without all that dead liberal weight around our ankles.

Death comes for us all, I suppose, I just wish she’d be a bit more selective.

The BBC is running a poll to determine the greatest American, apparently they then intend to broadcast the results as part of a show on how the world feels about America. Given that it’s the BBC the show is not likely to put us in the most positive light but they do claim to have openly solicited the entries and posted the top ten most requested for the final vote. It’s not a terrible list considering that presumably only the English were involved in picking the names – I can’t argue with Homer Simpson being in the top ten but I would argue that Mr. T, Bill Clinton and Bob Dylan should not be in that august company.

Check out the poll here. Vote, but for God’s sake vote for someone worthy.

I suppose that, at the very least, we can take comfort in the fact that Bill Clinton has the absolute lowest ranking – less than half that of Mr. T. So much for an “internationalist” Presidency. And no worries about the Founding Fathers ranking so low on the list, what did you really expect from our “old mother who peevish [had] grown?”

Finally broke down and saw Matrix Reloaded last night. I really want to scream, “What a pretentious piece of bullshit!” but honestly can’t. There was a lot of overly pretentious crap, a lot of talking about choice and all kinds of other silly shite. Naturally when that much verbage is being hurled at you, you can’t concentrate enough to think it all through, probably take a couple of viewings but who the hell wants to sit through that flick more than once?

Nor was I overawed by the effects. The reliance on CGI for some major, relatively close-up shots coupled with CGI’s inability to properly render flat texture – rather than a shiny plastic appearance – made some of what should have been impressive fight scenes rather cartoony. Probably the best effects in the whole thing were the albino twins but they turned out to be nigh-useless. Matter of fact, a lot of the really nifty characters in the flick were useless. Bummer. Honestly, I’d rather see a whole movie with the Merovingian, the twins, Agent Smith and Trinity than spend 5 minutes watching Neo’s blank expression as someone throws him a concept more complex than your typical pre-school platitudes.

Oh, and my biggest complaint? What the hell was with the completely gratuitous rave/sex-scene? Neither did anything to advance the story, neither was even particuarly titillating. And if you want me to think that during preparations for the final battle to save humanity we’re all going to bounce around like some sort of polynesian savages to techno music – you’re sorely mistaken. No wonder humanity is enslaved and keeps getting destroyed. Where’s the discipline? Where’s the order, the military training, the weapons factories? I did like the mechs – that was pretty sweet – but again, no wonder humanity is losing the war. Buncha bunny huggers.

No words on the weekend, the Great White Joker in the sky screwed me again, not only did it rain and delay the game for an hour but the minute they called the game off and rescheduled it for a double header Sunday the rain stopped and didn’t start up again for several hours. I tell you, the man is fucking with me and I don’t like it.

Lest I forget, I better wish a big Happy Birthday to Bob Hope. My generation has never had much use for Bob, his humor seemed dated in our gross-out, loudmouthed, @#!**& age but he meant a hell of a lot to the generations that came before us and as I study more and more of the history of the period I find his stuff funnier and funnier.

And don’t forget, as quintessentially American as Bob Hope was, he was born in England. Isn’t that just perfect? Everyone wants to be an American, apple pies and Christmas trees are German, log cabins are, I think, from Sweden or one of the Scandanavian countries but they can come here, do right by Americans and become as American as baseball.

Or was baseball based on a British invention too?

Pretty cool, they’re releasing a biography of a guy I know and have shared a couple of pints with. Some of you have probably seen Ken Burns ridiculous The Civil War. I know Shelby Foote stole the show but man, did you catch a dude named Ed Bearss? Gruff sounding, bald old dude with a whole lot of enthusiasm?

Anyway, he’s an old Marine who got shot up in WWII on New Britain, he was the Park Service’s historian for many many years and he’s probably the best tour guide for Civil War sites that exists. You ought to read this article about him. The story about him getting shot is one of the funniest things in the world to hear directly from him even though, when you think about it, it must have been a positively harrowing experience.

Just thought I’d share. If you ever get the chance to hear this guy speak, even if you don’t care about the topic, it’s worth going just for the show.

It’s been a while. Saw X2 last night. I honestly am not the biggest fan of the first flick, it seemed like it was 90 minutes of expository storyline with no real plot. Magneto’s the bad guy but he’s that way because of his childhood. Everybody else are good guys but most of ‘em are whiny bitches – especially Cyclops. I hate Cyclops.

None of that bs for X2, they roll right into the action and introduce a whole peck of new mutants. If you haven’t read the comics you probably wouldn’t recognize Shadowcat or Colossus – where the hell was the russian accent – and you’ll miss out entirely on the foreshadowing of X3. Pity. Still, it was a hell of a cool flick and I am now an unabashed fan of Nightcrawler. I never got the impression in the comics that he was very interesting or useful and his costume was just plain silly. The movies made him a star. Plus, you gotta love someone constantly saying the rosary through trials and tribulations. That makes me happy.

But Cyclops is still a bitch.

Two posts in such rapid succession, maybe I am getting over my current illness after all. Regardless, you really need to read the one below this one, ’cause I said so. But then, quickly come back and read this hate mail to Michael Moore. I guarantee you won’t read a better comparison of left-wing, media, movie-type hating and leprechaun beating anywhere this year.

I have long maintained – contrary to the protestations of many friends – that Janeane Garofalo is not an attractive woman. Now, I can add to that assertion that she’s a bald-faced liar in the Alec Baldwin vein.

See her comments from March 6:

I hope to God that I can be made a buffoon of, that people will say you were wrong, you were a fatalist, and I will go to the White House on my knees on cut glass and say, hey, you were right, I shouldn?t have doubted you. But I think that is preposterous.”

And now, she’s taking it back. I guess, like the old saw says, being a celebrity means never having to say you’re sorry. Or something like that.

We can all take some comfort in the fact that many of these idiots who spouted off constantly before and during the war are seeing public appearances cancelled on them and future contracts being withdrawn before their very eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, justice is.

Hey, I’m all for free speech. Just remember like Uncle Ben (not the rice guy) said, “With great power, comes great responsibility.”

Ain’t reality a bitch?

Mr. Rogers died today. Ain’t that about a bitch?

But on to other news.

I always thought stress was supposed to make you lose your appetite, etc. Well, it ain’t fecking working! Dammit, when will it all end?

Yeh, that’s about it. I have other things rattling around in my skull but until I get the big 500-pound gorilla off my back there’s no time for worries.

Run, don’t walk, to The Onion and check out the “What Do You Think?” feature. It has the absolute best quote I’ve read all week:

“As an American, I’m getting sick and tired of other countries.”

Amen brother, testify!

I think that line is second only to The Onion traveller’s advice to always bellow, “I’m an American you filthy foreign barbarians!” to ensure the best service while travelling abroad.

I suppose Sesame Street has always been an outpost of flaming liberalism, they did keep interjecting spanish words into the typical broadcast, regardless I always had a soft spot for the show. It apparently helped teach me to read at a very young age and who doesn’t just dig Snuffleupagus? He’s the lay down shit, man, the absolute best. I guess I should have seen it coming when white people were banned from the show but now they’re going to have AIDS-baby muppets? Yeesh.

“C is for crack whore, she’s Mommy to me.”

I say again. Yeesh.

I guess rubber-ducky’s bathtub gin operation is just too passe anymore. Don’t you think Oscar was supposed to be the typical conservative type in their little slummy Berkeley type commune? Man, I bet he’s down in his garbage can writing screed after screed against this sort of hogwash. Anyone know if Oscar blogs?

Saw Harvey last night. I highly recommend it to anyone. I’ve never seen Jimmy Stewart’s version but he’s got to be the quintessential Elwood P. Dowd. I love his line (Elwood’s), “Doctor, I have been struggling with reality for many years and am happy to report I have finally won out over it.” We did Harvey back in high school and I never quite got it, last night I totally got it. Freaking cool play. Irish folklore and all.

And speaking of Ireland. Goddamn protty buggers are marching again. Ohhh, sure, it’s all the IRAs fault. Silly papists! Bollocks. These bloody damned Orangemen have caused more trouble in the last several years with their insistence on marching through the worst possible places than the IRA has caused in a similar span of time. Don’t get me wrong. I despise the IRA, haven’t thought well of them since DeValera bucked the free state treaty in 1921 and went to war with the people themselves but I hate Protestants even more. Stupid English lackeys.

Aaaaand finally, I was watching a commercial for Molson last night where a Quebecois got up and proclaimed loudly that he was NOT a Canadian. Funny, as if being Canadian weren’t bad enough he’d rather be FRENCH! Funny.

Der Fuhrer goes primetime! I dunno, a CBS miniseries on Hitler’s youth? Doesn’t that sound a little bit Hallmark Hall of Fame-y? I can see the teasers now:

“A boy . . . with broken dreams . . . a failed painter . . . tempered in the furnace of the Western Front . . . rises to become the leader . . . of the Third Reich!”
DA DA DUM DUM!, etc, etc

Ohhhh-kay. Now I’m a little bit scared. Nobody better tell me they’re greenlighting this for a premiere on Hitler’s birthday. Now that would just be too bizarre.