A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

Haven't we seen it enough?

Upon hearing that his frontal nude scene will be excised from the American release of "Young Adam," Ewan McGregor had some choice comments for the American film rating system (via IMDb):

"It does amuse me, the horrific violence that comes out of American cinema. But someone's cock is too much. If I'd blown away 5,000 people with a semiautomatic machine gun, that would be fine. But I showed my penis."

That's because there's a two-penis limit for actors in films appearing over here, you dumbass. For example, Harvey Keitel used up his allotment with "The Piano" and "Bad Lieutenant," while Huey Lewis ("Short Cuts") still has one dong showing to give. Like Keitel, McGregor shot his wad (so to speak) by parading his junk in "Trainspotting" and "Velvet Goldmine."

Maybe if McGregor made a movie where he shot 5,000 people while naked, he could free himself of the shackles of the American film industry. Though quality control can't be that much of a concern for him, given his willing participation in "Star Wars: Episode I," "Eye of the Beholder," and "Down With Love."

Was Gedde Watanabe booked?

To: ABC Network Programming Executives

The next time you're looking to cash in on the trend in organized crime sagas - i.e. your midseason "Sopranos"+"Law and Order" series "Line of Fire" - you might want to pick someone besides David Paymer to portray the sociopathic mob boss who instills abject terror in his subordinates. I've never given much thought either way to the guy who played Ira Shalowitz in the "City Slickers" movies, and I'm as anti-bully as the next person, but even I want to give Paymer a wedgie when I see those commercials. This may not be the reaction you were looking for.

Thank you for your time.

Top 500 revisited

A Perfectly Cromulent Blog - beating dead horses since July, 2003.

In my earlier entry concerning Rolling Stone's Top 500 album listing, kodi made a comment about the number of "greatest hits" albums that made the list. I always considered it cheating to put such albums on a "Top n" list - either you have one album that's worthy on its own merits, or you don't. Even so, I imagine any big list of all-time greats would have a few anthologies. "Besides," I thought to myself as I went through the grocery store checkout with my own copy of the issue tonight, "How bad could it be?"

Holy underwear. The best thing you can say is that no greatest hits compilations made the top 20. Beyond that, it's pretty ridiculous. 45 of the remaining 480 albums are hit collections or career anthologies (#225 is the 10-disc Hank Williams retrospective). I wouldn't point this out, except why bother having Sly and the Family Stone's Greatest Hits at #60, when There's a Riot Goin' On and Stand both made the list separately? Why not just call the list the "Top 455" instead of including albums that don't have any sort of thematic element?

I'm not including live albums in the above count, as they usually include lesser known songs along with the band's top singles. And At Budokan by Cheap Trick rocks the house, boyee.

Other notes:

Hip-hop barely cracks the Top 50, with Public Enemy's It Take a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back clocking in at #48. After that, there's a surprisingly decent sampling including Run-DMC, N.W.A., A Tribe Called Quest, Dr. Dre, Eric B and Rakim, De La Soul, Outkast, The Wu-Tang Clan, EPMD, and BDP.

If you like country, you've got Hank Williams Sr. (the highest ranked at #129), Willie Nelson (The Red-Headed Stranger and Stardust), Dolly Parton, Patsy Cline, Lucinda Williams, Merle Haggard, and Loretta Lynn. One could stretch the category to include CSNY or the Byrds, but I won't.

It would be Big Fat Fun to go on at annoying length about the perceived outrages resulting from a purely subjective list put together by a bunch of music industry blowhards - because that would make so much sense - but I'll simply focus on the following tidbits:

+ The Replacements have two albums on the list (Tim and Let It Be), which is cool.

+ Uncle Tupelo, Warren Zevon, Wilco, the Flaming Lips, Whiskeytown, and Townes Van Zandt all failed to make the list. This means, according to RS voters, Cyndi Lauper, Beck, Portishead, and Janet Jackson are all qualitatively better. Which is bullshit.

+ George Michael's Faith (#480) is "greater" than Steve Earle's Guitar Town (#489).

+ Sonic Youth's Daydream Nation (#329) isn't up to par with Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill (#327). By default, neither are Damaged by Black Flag (#340), Sketches of Spain by Miles Davis (#356), Double Nickels on the Dime by the Minutemen, or Rum Sodomy and the Lash by the Pogues (#445), to name but a few. "Interesting theory," as Abe Simpson would say.

Finally, after reading lists like this for the better part of 20 years, I have become convinced of the following things:

+ Nobody but music journalists give a shit about the following artists: Moby Grape, Television, Love, Captain Beefheart, Todd Rundgren, and Jackson Browne.

+ Lou Reed is horribly overrated. I'll give you the Velvet Underground albums (Nico and Loaded, anyway), but I've listened to Transformer and Berlin and frankly, they aren't that good. Must be a New York thing.

+ You can argue for U2's The Joshua Tree's placement at #26, but there is no way All That You Can't Leave Behind (#139) deserves to rank ahead of War (#221).

+ I like that Kraftwerk made the list (Trans-Europe Express is #253), but it's the only electronica aside from two Massive Attack albums,The Downward Spiral by NIN, and (I guess) Violator by Depeche Mode (#342).

Not many goths on the staff at Rolling Stone, by the looks of it. Joy Division's Closer is dutifully included at #157, but I was half expecting some Sisters of Mercy, at least.

Finally, what's the most telling evidence that this list is a bunch of crap? No Shatner.

If bread is the staff of life...

...then beer is life itself.

Whether your tippling level equates to "social," "binge," or "Boris Yeltsin," everyone should have a set of guidelines for drinking. Mine starts and ends with "Never turn down a free drink," but Modern Drunkard Magazine will help the rest of you get started with its "86 Rules of Boozing" (courtesy of Metafilter). Highlights follow:

12. Never, ever tell a bartender he made your drink too strong.
15. If you offer to buy a woman a drink and she accepts, she still might not like you.
33. The only thing that tastes better than free liquor is stolen liquor.
35. Learn to appreciate hangovers. If it was all good times every jackass would be doing it.
45. It's okay to drink alone.
55. If you think you might be slurring a little, then you are slurring a lot. If you think you are slurring a lot, then you are not speaking English.
68. If there is a line for drinks, get your goddamn drink and step the hell away from the bar.

The only item I'd add to this list is: find your preferred alcohol and stick with it. If you're a beer drinker, don't mix it up in public with Wild Turkey. If you're a vodka drinker, don't suddenly decide to go with gin. More pain and suffering has been caused by amateur mixologists than the Black Death and Celine Dion combined.

T-day TV

I'm not sure what the more gratifying football development was today: Brett Favre throwing 3 picks and fumbling once against the Lions (I'm playing against him this week in fantasy football); or the Cowboys getting their collective asses handed to them by the Dolphins. Whichever, it rapidly became obvious that CBS and Fox don't take their Thanksgiving Day advertising as seriously as they do on other big game days. All with good reason, since I imagine many people watch football on Thanksgiving out of inertia more than any real interest in how far out of the playoff hunt the Lions are that year. Bowl games, the division playoffs, and the Super Bowl all supposedly mean something, so the networks roll out the big commercials.

With Dallas choking like Michael Hutchence against Miami, and because my father-in-law doesn't have a TiVo, I started paying more attention to the commercials. Most were asinine (if I see another "That thing got a hemi?" Dodge ad I'm gonna commit an aggravated felony), some were mildly amusing (the Miller human dominoes got a chuckle), and one was rather strange. I speak of the Target commerical with the drummers.

Target has some decent ads. I thought the one that culminates with the Kool-Aid guy crashing through the wall was nicely droll. Or maybe it was nostalgia, but whatever. Their new one features an older guy and a young woman banging away on their respective drum kits while the screen, as Rainier Wolfcastle might say, "shouts slogans at you." I quickly pegged the girl as Donna C of...big surprise, The Donnas. However, it took a repeat viewing to realize the dude was, in fact, Bun E. Carlos of Cheap Trick.

I like the Donnas. I saw them a couple years ago when they played Fitzgerald's and it wasn't a bad show. I used to like Cheap Trick. I saw them twice in College Station in the early 1980's when they were literally the only band who would come there to play. Much as I appreciated the merging of two acts I enjoy(ed), it still seemed odd.

Which reminded me of the strangest commerical pairing I've ever seen in a TV commercial. Bun and Donna may appear to be a weird choice for a celebrity endorsing duet, and they are, but at least both of them are drummers. Even the Cyndi Lauper-Anastacia combo in that Dr. Pepper commerical makes some sense, as they're both singers. No, the weirdest celeb-meld I've ever seen actually, to this day, makes me think I might have hallucinated it: an animated Mike Ditka and Cathy from the "Cathy" comic strip pimping for McDonalds.

I don't remember much (cognitive celebrity dissonance can do that): Ditka and Cathy are driving in a car and grumbling at each other. They end up at McDonalds, order food, and grumble some more. End commercial. I was immediately so confused I became frantic. Why was Cathy driving Ditka to McDonalds? Did his car break down? Didn't he have buddies he could call? How could he be friends with a whiny, self-absorbed character like Cathy?

Oh no...you don't think they...slept together? And she was driving him to breakfast the next morning? Iron Mike and Cathy the Annoyingly Repetitive Dingbat bumping uglies? The walls in the 53rd Precinct are bleeding!

Oh well, it could have been worse.

Got ya covered

The internet radio station I'm listening to today is doing an all-covers broadcast. I'm not against the idea of covering another group's songs - whether out of honest respect or sarcasm - unless that's the only thing your band does. And even then, frat parties need music too. It's rare (like, decent Van Damme movie rare) to have a cover that actually surpasses the original, though. The new version can't just be a rehash; it has to add some new vocal or musical dimension that makes you sit up and take notice, or at least cock your head like a dog and blink a few times.

In the interest of a boring Wednesday-before-Thanksgiving, here are a few of the cover songs in that vein I've enjoyed over the years (the orignal artist is in parentheses). This is in no way comprehensive, so feel free to add your own favorites as the spirit moves you. Or point and laugh.

And I'll get "All Along the Watchtower" (Bob Dylan) by Jimi Hendrix out of the way right off the bat, as it's sort of the quintessential example of what I'm talking about.

"99 Red Balloons" (Nena) - 7 Seconds
"Alone Again Or" (Love) - The Damned
"Back in the High Life Again" (Steve Winwood) - Warren Zevon
"Cortez the Killer" (Neil Young) - Slobberbone
"Easy" (The Commodores) - Faith No More
"Everybody Knows" (Leonard Cohen) - Concrete Blonde
"Gin and Juice" (Snoop Doggy Dogg) - The Gourds
"Head On" (The Jesus and Mary Chain) - Pixies
"Hurt" (NIN) - Johnny Cash
"I Fought The Law" (Bobby Fuller Four) - The Clash
"In the Ghetto" (Elvis Presley) - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
"No Depression" (The Carter Family) - Uncle Tupelo
"Piece of Crap" (Neil Young) - Slobberbone
"Rusty Cage" (Soundgarden) - Johnny Cash
"Stepping Stone" (The Monkees) - Minor Threat
"Take On Me" (a-ha) - Reel Big Fish
"The Metro" (Berlin) - System of a Down
"Tomorrow, Wendy" (Andy Prieboy) - Concrete Blonde
"Viva Las Vegas" (Elvis Presley) - Dead Kennedys

And, of course, "Mr. Tamborine Man" (The Byrds) by William Shatner.

It's also rare for a cover to be so bad that you just wince at the mention of it. I'm thinking of Frankie Goes to Hollywood's cover of "Born to Run" - "This town rips the bones from your back, it's a death trap, yeah a suicide rap" doesn't exactly conjure up images of Holly Johnson in his topcoat and gloves. Most cover versions are like the Ataris' version of "Boys of Summer" - which is possibly the most unironic do over of a song desperately screaming for a little levity.

Ah well, that's "emo" for you. I defy anyone to find me a Black Flag sticker on a Cadillac...that was put there by the car's owner, that is.

Oh joy

Melanie at delicate flower fires the first salvo I've seen at Rolling Stone for its latest roster of All-Time Terrificest Albums (they're up to 500). The top 10 list, typically, consists largely of records that came out right around the time I was born:

1. The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
2. Beach Boys - Pet Sounds
3. The Beatles - Revolver
4. Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited
5. The Beatles - Rubber Soul
6. Marvin Gaye - What's Going On
7. Rolling Stones - Exile on Main Street
8. The Clash - London Calling
9. Bob Dylan - Blonde on Blonde
10. The Beatles - The White Album

The funny thing is, I remember the Top 100 (or whatever) list from the late '80s: "Sgt. Pepper's" was still #1, "Exile" was #3 and...unless I'm very much mistaken, Van Morrison's "Astral Weeks" was #2. I don't have the inclination to burrow through my closet of crap and try to find that particular issue, but it's pretty telling that they couldn't even stay consistent on their top 3. Did Van sleep with Jann Wenner's wife?

Could RS not think up one goddamned album released post-1979 that was deserving of top 10 status? Are the Beatles really that good? We have them to blame for Oasis, after all, and "The White Album" may have a top 10 release buried somewhere in it, but the actual album is far too uneven.

I would've at least expected a sop to Nirvana's "Nevermind," which seems to be the one post-Carter Administration release on which most mainstream critics can agree. I haven't seen the list yet (and I know I'll cave in eventually and buy the issue so I can piss and moan about it in the privacy of my own home), but I, like Melanie, have a hard time believing the Beatles and Dylan constitute 60% of the all-time greats. As far as Dylan goes, at least throw a Woody Guthrie record in there to acknowledge where Mr. Zimmerman got all his ideas.

Slightly off-topic, if you're not reading Melanie's stuff at the Austin Chronicle or the Houston Press, you should be.

"Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead"

But former Chilean president Augusto Pinochet is still alive. What's more, today is his 88th birthday. Conveniently, this year also marks the 30th anniversary of the CIA-backed coup that removed Salvador Allende from power and installed Pinochet as dictator of Chile.

How about a little career retrospective?

+ 180,000 tortured during his first year in power
+ Numerous assassinations performed abroad by Pinochet's secret police (DINA), including that of former Chilean diplomat Orlando Letelier in Washington, DC
+ "Operation Condor" - before it was a Jackie Chan movie, it was a joint effort by the governments of Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Paraguay, and Uruguay to monitor, abduct, and torture political enemies regardless of where they were living at the time[1]
+ Routine torture of "dissidents" using electrical shock, beatings, and sexual assault throughout his presidential tenure

And let's not forget our own government's compliance, which is depressingly unsurprising, given the popularity of supporting "friendly dictators" during the Cold War. Present day spin artists like to present Pinochet as a hero in the struggle against Communism, based on how instrumental he was in preventing the Red Menace from achieving a strategic toehold in the Andes and seizing the precious alpaca herds.

Courts have ruled Pinochet is mentally unfit to stand trial for human rights abuses. He suffers from diabetes, has a pacemaker, and was recently hospitalized for bronchitis and a broken wrist. He is unrepentant about crimes committed during his time in office, and insists he always acted "in a democratic way."

Congratulations on lurching to another birthday, you murdering scumbag. I hope it's your last.

[1] Pinochet's suspected involvement in the abduction and "disappearing" of 79 Spanish nationals/Chileans of Spanish descent from Argentina formed the basis for his arrest in London in 1998.

New trends in bodybuilding

Dislocated elbows.

Links go to pictures that you probably shouldn't look at, unless you found Riggs' escape from the straitjacket in "Lethal Weapon 2" amusing.

Both of these incidents took place at the World Weightlifting Championships in Vancouver. Furthermore, both pictures are at the top of Yahoo's "most popular" photo listing, proving that injury to others is as hilarious as ever.

Especially when it happens to people in better shape than we are, I guess.

All your debate are belong to Joe

Democratic presidential candidate Joe Lieberman is a little miffed at being excluded from tonight's debate:

The Connecticut senator, who is not competing in Iowa's caucuses, had rejected an invitation to attend the Des Moines debate sponsored by the DNC. Eight other candidates had agreed to attend.

Later, Sens. John Edwards of North Carolina and John Kerry of Massachusetts said they could not be here because the Senate is debating a GOP-backed Medicare bill they both oppose. The DNC agreed to allow them to participate by satellite from a Washington studio. Two television screens will show Edwards and Kerry on stage, alongside six rivals who will be there in person.

Lieberman, who also opposes the Medicare bill, asked to participate by satellite as well. The DNC consulted with the other campaigns, at least two of which said he should not be allowed to take part.

What the article doesn't mention is that Lieberman voluntarily withdrew his request when told he would not be able to appear on a giant computer monitor a la Lex Luthor in "The Superfriends."

UPDATE: Man, that's a crappy MS Paint effort, that is. Sorry.

Dangerous toyz

Every time some group comes out with their annual list of Toys Most Likely to Cause Spontaneous Disembowelment in Toddlers, I think of Dan Aykroyd as Irwin Mainway on "Saturday Night Live:"

Mainway appeared every year around Halloween to defend his company's costumes, such as the Johnny Space Commander Mask (a plastic bag with a rubber band), Johnny Human Torch (oily rags and a lighter), and toys like Bag O' Glass. He was right up there with Fred Garvin: Male Prostitute as one of my favorite Aykroyd characters.

Anyway, the Lion and Lamb Project is right on time with their "Dirty Dozen." I was especially intrigued by this quote from Project director Daphne White regarding the Power Rangers Ninja Storm game:

"Like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, this is another television-generated brand with the message that the best way to solve problems is through violence," White said, noting that while Power Rangers are portrayed as good guys they solve problems by fighting.

The L&L Project must assume children don't have any exposure to Fox News.

The list also feels like a bit of a cheat. Each action figure or playset offered has an accompanying video game listed - several of which are already rated for teens - and some brands are only represented by a video game. Sign o' the times, as Prince might say.

What I don't get is why the "Matrix: Reloaded" DVD also makes the Project's list of violent "toys," despite the fact it's rated "R" and, presumably, not on most parents' toddler gift lists. If this move towards reinforcing the blatantly obvious is where the Project feels it should go, I'd like to help out by recommending that parents also avoid stuffing the kids' stockings with "Cannibal Apocalypse," "Irreversible," and "Meet the Feebles" which, despite appearances, is not a cute puppet movie.

Unless puppets engaging in shooting sprees and frequent acts of sodomy count as "cute," that is.

My last Michael Jackson entry, honest

I don't really care all that much about the Michael Jackson case. If they guy's convicted, I hope he goes away for a very long time. Of course, I've been hoping that since my Film Studies professor made us watch the video for "Bad" when I was an undergrad. Shakedown or not, Michael Jackson is a weird bastard who, at the very least, should know better than to invite trouble by sharing his home (not to mention his bed) with pre-adolescents.

And I expected the guy to have a few supporters. Hell, even the Brentwood Ripper had his squads of mongoloids cheering him on his abortive run for the border, but these Jackson supporters are freaking me out.

The first days saw the obligatory goobers with their crude, hand-painted signs offering their pleas for understanding outside his studio, but I didn't think much of it. Indeed, I was pleased to hear some preliminary news reports that the city of Las Vegas wanted Jackson out.

[This brings up the inevitable question: what the hell do you have to do to get kicked out of Vegas? I once saw a guy walking through the Luxor hotel casino wearing a papier-mâché horse's head with his pants around his ankles, and all he was asked to do was remove the head at the tables.]

Those reports turned out to be false, sadly, but something more sinister was taking place: people were turning out in decent numbers to demonstrate in support of Michael Jackson.

The same Michael Jackson who's been incapable of making a decent album for twenty years. The same Michael Jackson who paid off the family of a boy who accused him of molestation ten years ago. The same Michael Jackson who, while using every available surgical means to remove any evidence he was once black, has no problem letting other delusional celebrities play the race card on his behalf.

Okay, fine; America is full of idiots. But what about overseas? Granted, after Jerry Lewis and Stallone and Hasselhoff, we'd pretty much given up on the French and the Germans...but the Italians? Doesn't living in the birthplace of democracy and modern philosophy count for something? Shouldn't Italians be drinking wine and debating Plato's Republic? Or at least zipping around on mopeds and grabbing tourist women on the butt? What is this hold that this formerly talented Deep One has on them? What does it say about us that other countries choose to latch on to the most banal and repulsive aspects of our culture? What does it say about them?

Whatever, I've got to go. "Baywatch" is on.

Starve your head

While leafing through an old magazine earlier, I came across an advertisement for these clowns:

That's the band "Mushroomhead." If it wasn't bad enough that their music is mostly "Pantera Lite," and that they share that "we're not going to show our faces 'cause it's freaky" motif with other gimmick "metal" bands like Slipknot, just look at them for a second.

...

For me, a few things spring to mind:

1. Does the gay Nazi thing really get the chicks? I know, the SS had the best uniforms and all, but damned if those guys don't look like extras from the Blue Oyster scene in "Police Academy"

2. How many members does a band need? I've listened to their music and I can't figure out what half the people pictured are doing. Is this a Public Enemy thing, where half the guys are security and Ministers of Information and such like? Or does one guy bounce around like Bez from Happy Mondays, one guy plays the never-ending keyboard note like the dude in EMF, and another guy plays tamborine?

3. Nothing is worse than being the one guy in the "mask band" who doesn't get to wear a mask. Not even the faux Waffen Gebirgs Division armband can distract groupies from your Bub the Zombie makeup job. I feel for you, brother.

Or rather, I would if you and your band weren't a bunch of white suburban malcontents wailing about how tough it is to be a white suburban malcontent.

Shat in the Hat

The reviews of "The Cat in the Hat" are in, and they ain't good. The 900-lb gorilla of movie reviewers, Roger Ebert, gives it two stars and also had this to say:

It's been said you should never marry anyone you wouldn't want to take a three-day bus trip with. I have another insight: Never make a movie about a character you can't stand.

Okay, how about the New York Times?

I am tempted to say that this Cat should be tied up in a sack and drowned, but I wouldn't want to condone cruelty to animals, even metaphorically.

Ouch. Maybe the Miami Herald has something good to offer?

"Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat" is such a witless, unimaginative endeavor that it's tempting to cast its inadequacies as a reflection of the end of civilization.

That's cold, Obi-Wan.

Don't let any of this fool you, though. None of the negative reviews are likely to make a damn bit of difference in "The Cat in the Hat's" ultimate box office. Like the execrable "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," it stands to rake in hundreds of millions of dollars from parents who'd probably buy tickets to a seven-hour Teletubbies retrospective at Epcot if it meant their kids would sit down for one. Damn. Minute.

Still, it's nice to see a movie that's been so nauseatingly hyped in print media and TV commercials for the past month get so universally and unapologetically slagged. The lack of ambiguity in the reviews I've read mean I probably won't be duped into seeing it myself, a lesson I should have learned from "The Grinch" (shameless plug). And if any of you find yourself falling victim to temptation, this piece by Michael Atkinson of The Village Voice should cure you:

[...]"The Cat in the Hat" comes scarily close to being the most unendurable Hollywood creation of the last dozen years. Of course, the Seuss original was a compact treatise on prepubescent id run amok and the attending dread of parental wrath, but snake-oil-selling producer Brian Grazer hyper-extends it into a Gogurt splooge of competing plot motivations, the ugliest design work since, well, "The Grinch," and a free-associating Mike Myers done up as a kind of Dr. Moreau bastard spawn of Bert Lahr's Cowardly Lion and Charles Nelson Reilly. The jokes, even the shit-dick-puke-balls bits aimed at titillating teens, are mortifyingly witless; the Things (1 and 2) look like face-lift-stretched actress heads on children's bodies; the story aches with preachifying (and distinctly un-Seussian) sanctimony.

You could read the film's two lonely moments of self-knowledge—when the Cat explicitly plugs Universal Studios' theme park and the film's own soundtrack—as salient irony, but amid this vomit they seem simply desperate. Thanks to Grazer's evil-genius demographic scheme, "The Cat in the Hat" isn't fit for preteens, and it isn't digestible to adults. Teens, it needn't be said, should have better things—drugs, humping, "Matrix" sequels—with which to squander their weekends.

Dude. My sword is yours.

Get me to the multi-purpose arena on time!

The Compaq Center, formerly known as the Summit, is ceasing operation as a sports/special event arena this year. This Saturday, ZZ Top will help close the place down by playing the final (rock) concert in the arena:

Saturday's last ZZ Top show at the now-named Compaq Center will be followed by Disney on Ice Nov. 26-30. The building then will become home to Lakewood Church and be renamed Lakewood International Center.

I admit to being a bit stupefied when I heard Lakewood, a Houston-based Charismatic Church, was moving into the Compaq Center (under a 60-year lease, no less). I didn't realize at the time that they regularly fill up their current 7,800 seat facility for each service, or that an estimated 30,000 parishoners attend each week. Sermons are also broadcast across America and to some 100 countries worldwide.

Which leads to a logistical question: what kind of ceremony has to be performed to adequately consecrate the site of the new Lakewood International Center? Leaving aside the question of whether or not any violent crimes have been committed there (those Aeros-Grizzlies games would get pretty bloody, at least), does one just move into a venue that has hosted the likes of Black Sabbath, Testament, and Megadeth without at least sprinkling some holy water around?

Lakewood's an interesting organization. Their congregation is celebrated for its diversity and original pastor John Osteen was actually ousted from the Southern Baptists for not being fire and brimstone enough, which is all fine and good. Still, the wording on the church's web page regarding their plans for the future are a little...disquieting:

It has always been Lakewood's destiny to be on the front lines, and our greatest opportunity stands before us.

Never in our history have we had a greater opportunity to make an impact on the nations of the earth… Will you be part of history?

Then there's this:

The greatest challenge in the history of Lakewood is before us. We can stay where we are, or we can move ahead into a "promised land" where our vision for ministry can sweep this world.

Maybe I'm reading all this too close to the anniversary of the Jonestown massacre, but it sure sounds to me like Lakewood is about to implement "Phase II" of Operation Global Fellowship...Or Else.

I, for one, welcome our Protestant overlords.

Mexicali blues

Seems like it's hard to find good Mexican food in Pennsylvania. Or at least, Mexican food that won't potentially kill you:

PITTSBURGH, Pennsylvania (AP) -- The number of cases of hepatitis A linked to a Mexican restaurant rose to 530 Wednesday, but state health officials said the outbreak has slowed considerably since last week, when dozens of new cases were being reported daily.

Secretary of Health Calvin Johnson said officials still haven't determined whether tainted green onions are behind the outbreak at the Chi-Chi's restaurant, but were continuing to investigate.

The closest approximation to a Mexican restaurant The Wife and I had access to when we lived in Maryland a few years ago was Chi-Chi's. Even if I hadn't read this story, I'd never eat there again. Chi-Chi's is to Mexican food what John Grisham is to competent fiction writing.

I had better fajitas in Edinburgh, for crying out loud.

I sympathize with those Pittsburgh residents who have fallen ill, but maybe this will finally convince them to start going to Taco Bell instead.

Make it stop

Mercy. Here's another highly entertaining Fark Photoshop thread for you to check out. This time, the subject is Metallica's James Hetfield.

Be sure to look for the Kent State variant.

Usual warnings apply (graphics intensive, may not be safe for work, etc.).

Shocked, shocked I am...

...to find (alleged) fondling going on in Neverland Valley.

Santa Barbara District Attorney Tom Sneddon sounds like he wanna be startin' something:

SANTA BARBARA, California (CNN) -- Authorities are awaiting the surrender of pop star Michael Jackson and say they plan to charge him with multiple counts of child molestation.

District Attorney Tom Sneddon said Jackson faces multiple counts of lewd or lascivious contact with a child younger than 14.

We watched "Nightline" tonight, which must have set some sort of land speed record in putting the Jackson story together, and I got the distinct impression that Ted Koppel was enjoying this way too much. I suppose it's hard to blame him.

One of the panelists was a writer for Vanity Fair who remarked about Michael Jackson's famous plastic surgery disasters. This made me wonder if, somewhere in the dusty attic of his Neverland mansion, the normally-complected Michael Jackson (who still has his original facial features) is being held captive while his horrid portrait has somehow escaped and roams the earth. Then I realized that was probably the least original thought one could have regarding Michael Jackson and resolved to keep my mouth shut.

Whoops.

Of course, none of this is new to the King of Pop:

"It is a case of excitement and hysteria because we have the same accusations that we had 10 years ago," [Jackson family attorney Brian Oxman] said. "It's like playing the playoffs all over again."

Terms of the settlement of the lawsuit -- filed in 1993 and settled the next year -- were confidential, though the boy's attorney said at the time the boy and his family were happy to resolve the matter.

Johnnie Cochran, Jackson's attorney in that case, said at the time that Jackson maintained his innocence and that the settlement was in no way an admission of guilt.

Uh huh. Maybe Jackson can team up with OJ to find the "real molestors."

Soon, "Gay Divorcee" may take on a whole new meaning

Lower the portcullis. The homosexuals are laying siege to our venerable institutions again:

The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court has cleared the way for lesbian and gay couples in the state to marry, ruling Tuesday that government attorneys "failed to identify any constitutionally adequate reason" to deny them the right.

Reaction to the news was swift from all the the expected quarters:

Rep. Walter Jones, R-N.C., called the Massachusetts decision "just one more assault on the Judeo-Christian values of our nation."

That's some progress, I suppose. Thirty years ago he probably wouldn't have said the "Judeo-" part.

Meanwhile, across the pond, the President took time from his busy schedule dodging protestors to chime in:

"Marriage is a sacred institution between a man and a woman," he said. "Today's decision ... violates this important principle. I will work with congressional leaders and others to do what is legally necessary to defend the sanctity of marriage."

Too late. Where were the guardians of decency when it became acceptable for a guy at a convention in Vegas to take "Sapphire" from the Cheetah Club to a drive-in chapel and say their vows in front of Fat Elvis? Where's the outrage over letting any doofus with a mail-in ordainment certificate (ahem) perform marriage ceremonies? In 1998, a convicted felon and self-proclaimed messiah married 1500 couples in Madison Square Garden, but someone was getting a blow job in the White House, so apparently the moral watchdogs were a bit distracted.

Then there's this excerpt from the proposed "Protection of Marriage Amendment" to the Massachusetts Constitution:

"It being the public policy of this Commonwealth to protect the unique relationship of marriage in order to promote, among other goals, the stability and welfare of society and the best interests of children, only the union of one man and one woman shall be valid or recognized as a marriage in Massachusetts."

If marriage is so crucial to the "stability and welfare of society" then criminalize divorce. Half the couples getting married are ultimately going to harm society by splitting up, so don't let them. Especially if you're thinking of the children.

That Vermont went through a similar situation in 1999 and ended up passing a civil union law proves once again that this debate has nothing to do with rights and benefits and everything to do with the umbrage taken by certain individuals at the temerity of those filthy sodomites who want to call themselves "married." Two guys referring to each other as "husband and husband" won't take away from the legitimacy of my hetero union any more than online divorce does. Rep. Jones and his ilk should channel their righteous indignation into something useful, like sending angry e-mails to CBS protesting the cancellation "Touched by an Angel."

Don't let your Meat Loaf

I don't have much commentary on this, beyond the hilarious title of my entry:

Meat Loaf, 52, collapsed Monday on the first sellout date at the venue. A spokesman for North West London Hospitals said the pop star was in Northwick Park Hospital recovering "from exhaustion due to a prolonged viral infection."

"Meat Loaf will be re-evaluated by doctors today and further information about his status will be made available," the spokesman said.

His name was Robert Paulson.

Oh, wait. What I meant was, maybe the increasing ranks of aging rockers should start thinking about toning down their onstage antics, especially those hauling a little extra poundage like Mr. Loaf.

And don't throw the Rolling Stones back at me, those guys are nothing but corpses animated by some West African houngan.

"Give me ten men like Clouseau and I could destroy the world"

It's not often I get such immediate validation of something I wrote, but this bit on Steve Martin's next role sure makes one of my entries in Film Threat's Frigid 50 look dead on. Or maybe I'm just stating the obvious. Again.

Steve Martin, whose films have ranged from "The Jerk" to "Father of the Bride," is now stepping up to play bumbling Inspector Clouseau in an MGM remake of "The Pink Panther"

The original production and four sequels starred Peter Sellers as the inept French detective who tracks down jewel thieves.

I remember when Martin used to be funny. I think the last time was in 1983 (and parts of "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"). Even at his height (1979's "The Jerk"), he was no Peter Sellers.

It's getting to the point where I could write a Word macro for these entries about movie remakes. Insert comments about the continuing Death of Creativity in Hollywood as you see fit.

UPDATE: Dark Horizons, as always, has more:

"Martin is pulling down $15 million with a built-in option for a sequel. Jackie Chan and the original series' one and only Herbert Lom are "in talks" to play Cato and Dreyfus (the only other returning characters in Len Blum's script).

Couldn't they have just made another "Shanghai Noon?"

Check out the testy way the studio spy ends his report:

By the way, while various newshounds are describing the project as a remake or a prequel when it's neither. I would describe it as The Pink Panther series for the 21st Century. End of story".

So...it's a "reimagining?" Like Tim Burton's "Planet of the Apes?"

Whew. I was worried there for a minute.

Toot toot, beep beep

So here's the traffic map for this evening's commute:

Screw this. I'm going to Big John's for a beer. Or three.

Because nothing amuses friends and co-workers like a walking rectum wearing a judge's wig

Clarence Thomas jokes aside, the folks at thewalldirect.com are selling maquettes from, you guessed it, Pink Floyd's "The Wall:"

The boxed set includes Scorpion & Pink, Teacher, Marching Hammers, Eagle Warplane, Judge and the exclusive Megaphone Hammer not available outside of this special edition boxed set!

I think any of these would supplant Bender and his suicide booth for best conversation piece on my bookshelf, though I'm not sure why the "Eagle Warplane" gets preference over "Fascist Bashing Homeless Guy's Head In" or "Faceless Students with Optional Meat Grinder."

The "Wall" statues join the Movie Maniacs line and the Jenna Jameson dolls in the growing number of action figures for adults. Although "action figures" is a bit of a misnomer, since all these particular toys are likely to do is sit on a shelf somehwere, reminding their owners of the folly of spending upwards of $25 for a hunk of plastic they're never going to use.

Except, perhaps, for the Jenna doll buyers. And frankly I don't want to know about it.

If characters from movies like "The Wall" are getting licensed for toys, it can't be long before manufacturers make the jump from fantasy and horror straight into regular drama. Then we can look forward to a torrent of truly inappropriate action figures. The possibilties are endless: Archy Hamilton from "Gallipoli," for example, captured just as his chest is opened up by a Turkish machine gun. Or how about Bunny doing some impromptu rifle butt rhinoplasty on the Vietnamese kid in "Platoon?" Or Jimmy Cagney with the grapefruit in "The Public Enemy?"

And then, when all of Tony Scott's and Martin Scorsese's movies have been mined ("I'll take a 'Henry Hill Pistol Whipping' figure from 'Goodfellas,' please."), we can finally get to the figure everyone wants: Hoke from "Driving Miss Daisy."

Blogroll weirdness

I don't know who Laura is, or what her blog's about, but I have pulled my blogroll until Jason over at Blogrolling.com figures out what the hey is going on. If this message doesn't make any sense to you, it's probably for the best.

UPDATE: Blogrolling.com was hacked this morning. What makes the episode even more idiotic is that the link (Laura's Blog) repeated in everyone's hacked blogroll doesn't appear to go anywhere.

UPDATE the second: Okay, now it's back. Move along, nothing to see here. As usual.

Shnook of Lists, Pt. 2

Because no one demanded it, because I can't sleep, and because Michael gave me the idea and it just won't leave my brain until I inflict it upon everyone else, here is....

APCB's Top 6 Coreys of All Time

Corey Burton - Voice of Shockwave and Spike in "The Transformers" and a gazillion others
Corey Hart - "The Interstate Ramada is proud to present..."
Corey Everson - You may remember her as "Amazon Woman #1" from "Lois and Clark"
Corey Feldman - The ultimate Corey, all others tremble in his presence
Corey Yuen - You only wish you starred in "Soul Brothers of Kung Fu"
Corey Glover - Of "Living Color" (the band, not the TV show) and "Platoon" fame

Didn't make the cut: Corey Haim - because "Dream a Little Dream" is already amply represented.

Not receiving votes: C-Murder (AKA Corey Miller) - Master P's brother, who is serving a life sentence for, conveniently enough, murder; Corey Dillon - whiny Cincinatti Bengals running back, and Corey Sevier (you can't hold a candle to Jon Provost)

Conversations with Famous People, Pt. 7

The Year: 1992
The Place: A still unnamed fine dining club in Bryan, Texas
The Person: Texas Governor Ann Richards

Ann Richards: Could I get some more coffee?
Pete: You sure can, Governor Richards.

Add some cream and sugar with "Conversations with Famous People."

Put the load right on me

The Internet Movie Database has the latest dispatch from the War on Realistic Body Types:

Buxom screen star Liv Tyler is risking her Hollywood career - by refusing to lose weight. The 26-year-old has been told by movie bosses she risks missing out on top film roles unless she reduces the size of her shapely figure. But Liv - who trimmed to a svelte 57 kilograms for her part as heroine Arwen in the "Lord Of The Rings" trilogy, before piling 13 kilograms back on after shooting wrapped - insists she is happy with her weight and doesn't want to diet.

I'm all for Ms. Tyler's stance, especially if it kills any chance for a follow-up to "Armageddon."

70 kg = 154 lbs. Tyler's 5' 10" tall. That someone with those dimensions should feel pressured to diet or can be referred to as "buxom" says more about Hollywood's idiotic standards than anything I'd be capable of writing.

In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Connelly, and Lara Flynn Boyle in "Charlies Angels 3: Back to Bergen-Belsen."

Goonies are good enough...for me to poop on

I've been trying to avoid talking about this:

The Goonies 2: MTV News reports that both director Richard Donner and Steven Spielberg have purchased a sequel script and are pushing to get it made. According to Donner himself, whose currently doing the "Timeline" promotional rounds, its set to go if the studio gives the greenlight - "We're trying desperately. We're just trying to get Warner Bros., who owns it, to say yes. The new group is called the Groonies, because they happen to live in a town where [Data], the Chinese kid, lives ... and he's got an electronics repair shop and all the kids hang out at his shop. He has this Chinese accent and he calls the Goonies the Groonies, and so the new kids call themselves the Groonies, until they get into a situation where the old Goonies have to save the new Groonies, or vice versa". Until it gets underway, Donner will continue to develop the script and confirmed both Sean Astin and Jeff Cohen's characters will return.

Everybody got that?

I will go on record as saying I hate the effing Goonies. And I can't even attribute it to adult disdain for a once beloved childhood memory, because I hated the movie as a kid. I tried to watch it again a few years ago, thinking "I must've seen it at a bad time, since so many people I otherwise respect seem to have affection for the film" The fact that my TV is still intact is testament to the lack of handguns in easy reach that day. As it was, I ended up with a three-day migraine from all the hollering and had to resort to my "Highlander II" emergency remedy for shitty movies: I drank until I could convince myself it was all a bad dream.

Are you people paying attention? They want to put Corey Feldman, Josh "Mister Sterling" Brolin, and Short Round in a movie together. Again. And Sean Astin as well. I'd rather see three sequels to "Rudy" than three seconds of another "Goonies" movie.

Mr. Spielberg, if you must make a sequel to That Movie, with annoying stereotypes (A nerdy Asian kid! A jolly fat kid!) for characters that scream every other line of dialogue while falling down a lot, please have the decency to go to your local pawn shop and buy each potential viewer a .45 ACP. It'll save a lot of time.

A hope in hell?

Latest word on "Constantine," Warner Brothers' latest attempt to make a halfway decent comic book movie (via Dark Horizons):

Constantine: The insanely busy Lauren-Schuler Donner has been doing a few interviews of late with various outlets promoting "Timeline" and spoke about the Keanu Reeves-led Hellblazer adaptation she's involved in. In regards to "Constantine", she told Sci-Fi Wire that "It's not an origin story of the character. It's 'Dangerous Habits,' if you know the Hellblazer [series]. We're filming, we're about a third into it. It's come along great. And it'll be out next year, probably, well, at the moment, September". "We're shooting in L.A. A lot at Warner Brothers. A lot downtown. Two weeks we're in Long Beach. And we're trying to stay as true to the comic as we can, though it's an obscure comic. Not many people know Hellblazer.

Staying "as true to the comic as we can" obviously doesn't include filming in London, where the comic takes place. Donner has dismissed reports of the "Constantine-Mobile," though, so that's something.[1]

...I had quite a lengthy screed written out detailing my utter lack of faith in Keanu Reeves and whether the filmmakers will be able to portray John Constantine as the tormented figure he is. I also sounded off on the news that JC's friend Chas, a 40-something cab-driving family man in the comic, has morphed into a youthful sidekick played by Shia LaBeouf, but the hell with it (no pun intended). It's probably better for all concerned at this point if I just wait until the film is released and praise/scorn it as warranted.

That they're using Garth Ennis' "Dangerous Habits" as the basis for the plot is the best news I've heard about the film yet. "Habits" is arguably the finest storyline of the entire series, and has one of the greatest ending panels of any comic series ever.

Trust me, in the context of the story it's hilarious.

[1] In the comics, Constantine doesn't know how to drive

Cold as ice

Film Threat has published "The Frigid 50," its annual counterpoint to the numerous masturbatory rankings of the most powerful/hottest movie personalities released every year by magazines like Premiere.

My whopping six entries are sprinkled throughout, though I'm not going to specify which ones they are. Just in case Eddie Murphy reads my blog.

Oops.

Fundamentally fired

Alabama Chief Justice "Rudy" Roy Moore is outta here:

MONTGOMERY, Alabama (CNN) -- Alabama Chief Justice Roy Moore was ordered removed from office Thursday after a state ethics board ruled unanimously that he had violated judicial ethics rules by defying a federal judge's order to move a stone Ten Commandments monument from the state judicial building.

Good. And take that stupid rock with you.

For those about to suck

Norbizness knows my one weakness (the one I discuss in public, anyway): putting movies and bands into completely arbitrary categories for no other reason than to laugh at my own jokes.

He's compiled a taxonomy of bad rock music over at his blog. To his major phyla of Butt Rock, Wuss Rock, Crap Rock, and Shit Rock (Categories 1 and 2), I'll add the following:

Monk Rock - The unfortunate flotsam of the grunge movement: sad bastard bands that would be better served drinking Hull Cleaner than continuing to flagellate themseves and their audiences: Staind, Papa Roach, Puddle of Mudd, Disturbed, and any other band that assumes we find their off-key "bellow-aching" entertaining.

(Un)Punk Rock - "We've got tats and piercings and our hair is funny colors and we wear ripped clothes! That should distract you from the fact that our music is about as substantial as Air Supply's!" We're talking to you, Good Charlotte, Sum 41, and Blink 182.

Scrap Rock - What better way to cement your band's future obscurity than by releasing a cover song as your first single? I'm sure looking forward to the Ataris ("Boys of Summer") and Alien Ant Farm ("Smooth Criminal") joining Love Spit Love ("How Soon Is Now?") and Tiffany ("I Think We're Alone Now") on Crest Toothpaste's "Monsters of Mall" Tour in 2013.

Michele at A Small Victory has some ideas, too. Though I vehemently disagree with her assessment of Iron Maiden.

Back in blacklist

As entertaining as all the hooplah around people jockeying to get on the NRA's blacklist is, it's ultimately a waste of time. They might as well sign up to be censured by Philip Morris or the makers of Real Doll, for all the risk they're taking. Still, I suppose their hearts are in the right place.

As for the NRA, someone needs to inform them that the purpose of a blacklist is to actually make those who aren't included want to avoid inclusion. The NRA's blacklist is so ridiculously broad it's pretty much meaningless.

For example, one could assume from their list that no one in the NRA will ever require quality legal representation (which seems unlikely) or health care, since they've blacklisted both the American Bar Association and the AMA. Need a brain tumor removed? Better go to Mexico, 'cause the Congress of Neurological Surgeons is on your list. So is the National Parks and Conservation Association (no camping, I guess), Hallmark (handmade cards are more sincere, I think), and Levi Strauss (Wranglers are coming back).

Since NBC, ABC, and CBS are also on the blacklist, NRA members must watch a lot of "Simpsons"...but wait, "Simpsons" producer James Brooks is on the blacklist too! That just leaves "The O.C." and "COPS," or cable.

They just better be careful who their provider is, because Time-Warner's a no-no (that means no HBO, either).

A significant number of NRA members must be Muslim, Hindu, or "other," since the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, the Unitarian Universalist Association, the United States Catholic Conference, the United Methodist Church, the General Board & Church Society, the United Church of Christ, the Episcopal Church, the Congress of National Black Churches, the Govt. Affairs office of the Evganelical Lutheran Church, and the Mennonites are all blacklisted.

NRA Parents are also in a bit of a bind, as Disney CEO Michael Eisner and Nickelodeon President Herb Schannel are also listed. There's always "Davey and Goliath," I suppose.

Here's a thought for the NRA: perhaps the ludicrous number of organizations, individuals, and corporations assembled against you are indicative of a fundamental flaw in your policies? Maybe instead of spasmodically adding every C-list celebrity like Marla Maples (Marla Maples?!) to your enemies list, you should reexamine the stances you've taken on assault weapons and firearms purchasing so you can pare down the "Omni-List" and craft into an effective boycott tool. Then it might actually, I don't know, mean something.

But what do I know? The only firearm I own is "Love Gun" by KISS.

Phun with Photoshop

The good people at Fark frequently hold Photoshop contests where loyal readers take a template picture, manipulate it, and post it to achieve (one hopes) maximum hilarity. Most of the threads are pretty good, or at least worthy of a few chuckles.

The latest one is truly inspired. It's a pretty old gag (combine two movies into one..."American Splendor in the Grass," "Priscilla: African Queen of the Desert."...you get the idea) but several of the movie posters that have resulted are really damn funny. It's long (over 250 comments at last count) and all the graphics might make it slow to load, but it's well worth a look.

Check it out here. I think my favorites so far are "The Last Temptation of Ernest" and "Breakin' Away."

Must be sweeps

Local TV newsbag Wayne Dolcefino is promising an uncompromising and hard-hitting "newseriffic" look at Houston area fire inspectors that spend an inordinate amount of time in local strip clubs. My extremities are already sweating in anticipation of lurid hidden camera footage and strategically placed pixelated boxes that so deliciously tease. These are the times that local news programs live for.

So far Dolcefino has, by my informal and unscientific count, conducted unflattering investigative reports on the local police department, Houston city government, and the HISD teachers' union (and probably the DAR and the Girl Scouts). Now it's the fire department's turn - we learned tonight that local inspectors had visited area "adult entertainment establishments" over 267 times last year, and a certain local elementary school not at all.

Sadly, what will be lost in the inevitable pleas that we "think of the children" is Dolcefino's obvious psychological handicap: the man has a death wish.

Investigative reporters ruffle feathers all the time, but Big Wayne doesn't appear ready to stop until he's pissed off everyone in the KTRK viewing area. I'm not sure if the man lives in Houston proper, but if he does, he's managed to anger the local constabulary (with last month's story on cops moonlighting in area bars), the City itself (who assumedly handles his water and sewage), and now the fire department. At the very least, he better make sure he doesn't speed on his way to work.

If that weren't enough, this is the same guy who wades out, during a hurricane, into a chest high floodwaters for no other reason than to say, "Dave, I'm standing here in chest high floodwaters."

I'd say I fear for the guy's safety except, well, I don't really care. His legitimate stories are intermingled with dubious accounts of "made in China" highway lane bumps and cafeteria workers stealing milk. Is it shocking that local fire inspectors are getting lap dances instead of inspecting our local schools? Sure, I guess...if Dolcefino's telling us the whole story. Recent incidents like his bumbling of the Kid-Care fiasco and his blatant lies about the United Way's "One Houston United" telethon for victims of Hurricane Alison make one suspect there's more than a little John Stossel to the guy, however. And it doesn't help that he begins every story by preening in a room full of his Emmys.

It's that time of year, I reckon. And for any of you local TV viewers so hard up for titilation you have to resort to jump cuts of strippers on the evening news, I hear this newfangled internet thing can be used to find pictures of naked women. Don't tell my mom.

Waiting for the crash

Man, is my hit count going to crater when people finally stop Googling for that French capitol-hotel chain sex tape.

Some free advice: there are a multitude of VHS (and DVD) copies of skinny, vacant blondes having bored sex that are readily available at your friendly neighborhood adult video store. I'm sure the production values are marginally better as well, and they could use the business, seeing as how the new moral climate in this country has put such a dent in demand.

Long live the McQueen

More grist for the remake mill (from Dark Horizons):

Bullitt: Channel 4 indicates Brad Pitt will step into Steve McQueen's footsteps in a remake of classic crime/car chase thriller. Pitt will get to work on the project once "Ocean's 12" wraps.

I must be getting numb to the whole concept of movie remakes, because this one doesn't irritate me too much. Pitt's not a horrible choice, especially since the studio probably looked into getting Keanu Reeves. No one will ever out-cool Steve McQueen, of course, and ultimately I think this movie's a bad idea, but the casting isn't really the problem.

The original "Bullitt" featured what is still one of the greatest car chases of all time. It took three weeks to shoot, and though it occupied less than ten minutes of screen time, it's impressive to this day. The people remaking "Bullitt" are going to feel obligated to shoot a chase scene, and that's where their problems will begin.

To start with, there isn't a car nowadays that Pitt could (on a police detective's salary) realistically drive that compares to McQueen's original Mustang GT390. He may actually end up driving the same vehicle - in an homage to El Steve - or even some other classic muscle car, but this leads to a bigger issue. "Bullitt" was, for better or worse, the inspiration for every car chase in every cop-oriented TV show and movie for the next twenty years. Now that CGI is well upon us, crap like "The Fast and the Furious" make the vehicularly impossible into cinematic reality. We'll eventually get to the point where computer animation is so seamless you can't tell the difference between reality and rendered image, but no one will care. Audiences will never experience the same awe they felt when they first saw Steve McQueen tear through the streets of San Francisco, because it'll always be in the back of their mind that what they're seeing is completely illusory.

More illusory than usual for a movie, I mean.

Which is what may ultimately doom "Bullitt." Without the car chase, the original was just another cop movie. A cop movie with solid performances and a great score, for sure, but nothing groundbreaking...except for the car chase. The usual caveats apply (haven't seen it, haven't read the script, etc.), but if this ends up getting made don't be surprised to see more "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" than "To Live and Die in L.A."

Wings over Miami

Try as I might to avoid it, I occasionally get roped by into watching "CSI: Miami" by The Wife. The original "CSI" is okay, mostly because I'm a fan of William L. Petersen, but the Miami variant tends to be preachy, David Caruso's character is insufferably full of himself, and I can't help shouting "Slater-san!" every time Rory Cochrane's character is on screen. Therefore, it was with pleasant surprise that I realized the role of the evil pit crew chief in tonight's Grand Prix episode was none other than B-movie actor extraordinaire Wings Hauser.

Good old Wings. He appeared in one or two respectable films ("A Soldier's Story" being the only one I can remember now), but by and large he's played the heavy in a 25-year succession of crappy low budget flicks. His crowning achievement (if you want to call it that) was as the pimp Ramrod in 1982's "Vice Squad," but he's shown up in everything from "Beastmaster 2" to "Street Asylum" (starring with G. Gordon Liddy, no less) to "Original Gangstas."

Wings is father to Cole Hauser, who can be seen in "Dazed and Confused" (with the aforementioned Rory Cochrane) and "Pitch Black." Wings, however, is still The Man. He supplemented his movie roles with guest spots in some of my all-time favorite TV shows, such as "Magnum, P.I.," "The A-Team," and "China Beach" (note: "China Beach" is included solely for Dana Delany-related reasons). I may not be the biggest fan of the show, but seeing him on "CSI: Miami" was a real treat.

And he even got to play the bad guy. Outstanding.

The emasculation of Nick Lachey continues

I'd make a Sonny and Cher joke, except Cher can actually act.

Jessica Simpson to get own series

Simpson has inked a development deal with ABC to star in a comedy series project for the network targeted for fall 2004, which will be executive produced by Ted Harbert and the singer's father-manager, Joe Simpson.

"She was delightful in a room, she was charming and poised and funny, and the networks responded, but ABC's been wonderful through this," [Harbert] said. "We think Jessica exudes that all-American charm that I think ABC identifies themselves with, and, in our mind, it is a perfect fit that can go on any of their comedy nights."

Yeah, I can think of two things the networks responded to.

Lucky for the networks they finally have someone to fill the "vacuous human Barbie" slot now that Pamela Anderson isn't doing "V.I.P" anymore.

Joe Simpson called the deal with ABC "a great and logical next step for Jessica and the evolution of her career."

You knew this was coming...

The Evolution of Jessica Simpson's Career

2004 - TV show debuts on ABC
2004 - Divorce from Nick Lachey
2005 - TV show canceled
2006 - Latest album opens at #117 on the Billboard charts, sandwiched between Justin Timberlake's "Shatner!" and "I Swear...I'm Really Dead" by Tupac Shakur
2007 - Record label drops Simpson; signs Shatner, Tupac
2008 - Simpson marries Corey Feldman, father heralds start of movie career
2009 - Bit part as "Second pudding wrestler" in "Scary Movie 7"
2010 - Divorce from Feldman
2011 - Lets hair return to normal color, releases self-produced album of protest songs
2011 - Album debuts at #7,043
2012 - Father fires Simpson; adopts Michelle Branch and Tupac
2013 - Simpson and Lachey reunited at Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony for 98 Degrees
2014 - Writes memoirs, includes "candid" honeymoon photos
2014 - Books spends 37 weeks atop New York Time bestseller list

References to "Hollywood Squares" and "Match Game" left out for reasons of being too obvious, even for this blog.

Celebrity deathmatch

No word yet on who won the ratings war between the competing "teenage girl in distress" TV-movies about Jessica Lynch and Elizabeth Smart that aired last night. But the entertainment headlines ("Lynch, Smart Duke It Out in Dueling TV Movies") give a pretty clear indication of the show the networks really wish they could have showed us:

Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!

Clash of the Teenage Titans!

Elizabeth Smart - The Salt Lake Superstar vs. Jessica "Bronze Star" Lynch in a no-holds barred BATTLE ROYALE. Two teens enter, one woman leaves!

The winner will be showered with copious sympathy and adulation. The loser...will also be showered with sympathy and adulation, but a less attractive actress will portray her in the biopic.

Only on Pay Per View! Call your local cable operator now!

And so on. Normally I'd give the edge to the person with actual combat training in this case, but Lynch has yet to prove she can hold her own, mano a mano. Smart is a good deal younger, yet no one really knows what kind of freaky wilderness survival training she received while being held by Gandalf...er, Brian Mitchell.

Hopefully things will calm down so America will have time to look forward to the upcoming TV movie about Shoshana Johnson. Because the networks are clawing all over themselves to film the story of that "other" female POW from the 507th who actually fought back against her captors, right?

Right.

Can you hear the drums, Orlando?

Sounds like someone's a little defensive.

Bloom Annoyed at McKellen Quip

Movie hunk Orlando Bloom lashed out at "Lord of the Rings" co-star Sir Ian McKellen at a film awards this week after the gay actor after said he wanted to kiss him. McKellen had joked at London's British Independent Film Awards on Tuesday night that he was only attending in the hope of smooching hunky Bloom. However, when the 26-year-old arrived and was asked about the cheeky remarks he failed to see the funny side. He coldly shot back, "I'm not gay. I've got a girlfriend."

Lighten up, Butch. That nasty queen's not out to steal your precious bodily fluids.

Unless you can come up with another variation on the shield surfing gambit from "The Two Towers," he will steal your spotlight, however. But don't worry, I'm sure the "Pirates of the Caribbean" franchise will keep you employed for years.

Metal Anonymous

Hi, I'm Pete, and I'm an Iron Maiden fan.

It all started in 1981, when "Killers" was released. I wasn't that familiar with their music (not many radio stations in my little slice of Texas featured "Wrathchild" on their playlists), it was just hard for a 12-year old horror freak not to think the artwork was wicked cool (admittedly, I thought Eddie was a girl at first). Besides, Bruce Dickinson had yet to join, and I know that I wouldn't have taken to them as well with original singer Paul Dianno.

"Number of the Beast" came out in 1982, and the album cover held the #1 spot all year as favorite verboten item to pass around at school (narrowly edging out Chinese jacks). If you were a junior high male that year, you had little choice but to be entranced by it, for not only did it depict Satan cackling over a sea of the damned, but Eddie manipulating Satan like a puppet. These guys didn't just have the devil on their albums, they controlled him. Gnarly!

"Number" was also the first Maiden album I bought, and as soon as "Invaders" kicked in I was hooked. Bruce Dickinson has the perfect 80's metal voice: Dio without the vibrato; operatic without being, you know, opera. They played fast but weren't exactly speed metal. Objectively, it's an adequate album. I liked it, but didn't love it the way that makes you play something start to finish a dozen times. That would be the next album.

The high point of my Maiden fandom came with 1983's "Piece of Mind." It was the whole package: straight ahead metal ("Where Eagles Dare"); cheesy prehistoric tales ("Quest for Fire"); and slower, guitar-centered pieces ("Revelations"). "Piece" also featured two of the finest metal songs of the 80's: "Flight of Icarus" and "The Trooper" (the latter, I'd argue, is one of the best songs of that decade, period). It didn't hurt that "Flight of Icarus" gave them their greatest period of MTV exposure.

Maiden fandom wasn't that risky, to be honest. I got harassed more for my glasses than for the crude Eddie-with-an-axe sketchwork on my book covers. We in the elite Dungeons and Dragons-playing junior high cabal were of like minds, and howled gleefully along with "Die With Your Boots On" while taking turns at "River Raid" on the Atari 2600.

Nothing good lasts. "Powerslave" was a bit of a letdown, and I was getting into punk by then. The Circle Jerks and the DKs started taking up most of my listening time, and their haircuts were easier to imitate anyway. I enjoyed "Live After Death," and I still think 1986's "Somewhere In Time" is a fine album (it's one of the few cassette tapes from that era that survives). In 1983 however, metal was on the verge of splitting into "hair" and "speed" varieties. Metallica's "Kill 'Em All" had just come out, and it signaled the beginning of a more punk-influenced metal sound.

I suppose the title of this entry is a bit misleading: I'm not ashamed of being a Maiden fan ("Maidenhead?"...I think "Trooper" is the official term). Good metal, like good cheese (stay with me), ages well. There are any number of craptastic "metal" bands from that era that are nigh unlistenable today (see Grim Reaper). Iron Maiden is still in my rotation, and I can wail along to "Wasted Years" in my car along with the best of 'em.

Besides, what other metal group has an all-female tribute band?

Okay, besides Sabbath. And KISS. And AC/DC.

Need a gift suggestion for the holidays?

The hot video pick this Christmas season is...Paris Hilton:

Sexy hotel heiress Paris Hilton is the star of a leaked video tape that shows her graphically romping with Shannen Doherty's husband Rick Solomon. The explicit video was filmed three years ago when Rick and Shannen - who are now back together again - temporarily separated. But now an anonymous mole has given copies of the video to various media folk, reports website Page Six. An insider says, "Paris keeps staring into the camera and trying to show her best side. She knows she is being taped and Rick keeps trying to get her into sex positions that are better for taping, if you know what I mean."

Haw haw! You don't have to tell me, bro! I'll tell you!

...uh, no, I actually have no idea what positions are better for videotaping. The 'adequate overhead lighting' missionary? How about the 'low ambient background noise' lotus blossom?

And isn't this the same Rick Solomon who's producing a "Girls Gone Wild"-esque series of videos called "Beverly Hills Pimps and Hos?" There's your "anonymous mole," you morons. Hilton's in the freaking teaser trailer on the web site.

Paris's representative says, "This was something she did with Rick while they were dating, after he was no longer with Shannen, and it was something that was intended for their own personal use. This tape was never intended to be viewed by the public and it is in poor taste that someone has decided to release it."

It's a simple concept, really - taping yourself having sex is like cheating on your spouse: you're not going to get away with it. If the prospect of someone uploading your amateur "9 1/2 Weeks" to the internet doesn't bother you, how about the idea of your (present or future) kids finding it one day (and either laughing themselves into hysterics or admitting themselves to therapy)? And if those still aren't enough to put you off the idea, at least consider how it'll feel to watch the tape in 40 years, when gravity, booze, and Big Macs have taken their toll on your once svelte(r) physiques. Spare yourself the depression and do what every else does with their video cameras: film guys getting hit in the groin.

"That's our word for making fun of you!"

Time to come up with another slur for homosexuals:

The evolution of 'queer'

Originally a synonym for "odd" or "unusual," the word evolved into an anti-gay insult in the last century, only to be reclaimed by defiant gay and lesbian activists who chanted: "We're here, we're queer, get used to it."

Now "queer" is sneaking into the mainstream -- and taking on a hipster edge as a way to describe any sexual orientation beyond straight.

I'm a sucker for anything with a "hipster edge." Tell me more.

"I love it because, in one word, you can refer to the alphabet soup of gay, lesbian, bisexual, questioning, 'heteroflexible,' 'omnisexual,' 'pansexual' and all of the other shades of difference in that fluid, changing arena of human sexuality," says 27-year-old Stacy Harbaugh. She's the program coordinator for the Indiana Youth Group, a drop-in center in Indianapolis for youth who may place themselves into any of those categories.

I'm not sure I grok the difference between "pansexual' and 'omnisexual." The mental images produced by both terms leave me a little queasy, however, probably because I take "omni" to mean, well, "everything." Goats, vegetables, appliances, what have you.

James Cross, a 26-year-old Chicagoan, personally likes the term "metrosexual," meant to describe straight men like him who are into designer clothes, love art and fashion and even enjoy shopping (much like "queer-eyed straight guys").

So "metrosexuality" = "self-absorption?" Whatever exfoliates your boat.

Uh oh. Cheese it, the Fundamentalists are here:

"['Queer' is] not a particular word we're concerned with," says Ed Vitagliano, of the American Family Association in Tupelo, Mississippi. "It's that the media and the entertainment industries are such powerful transmitters of values for only one side of this controversial issue."

You guys are still playing the "liberal media" card? How totally gay.

"Children of the night, shut up!"

Ah, there's no bad time for a "Love at First Bite" reference.

Anyway, it seems that Anne Rice is calling it quits on the Vampire Chronicles.

Good riddance. I was sorry to read of the hardships Rice has gone through recently, but the time has come to - and I beg your forgiveness - put a stake in Lestat, Mona, Zeppo, Wez, Trogdor, and all the rest. The Vampire Chronicles (the four books I read anyway) are largely to blame for the concept of vampire as dandy fop bloodsucker, and it's high time we got back to literature that depicts them being killed mercilessly instead of asking us to feel sorry for them.

Time for another screening of "Near Dark," I think.

Train in vain

Houston Metro's proposition for extension of light rail was approved by area votes in yesterday's election. This was no easy win, as Metro's been widely criticized for, among other things, inaccurate budget estimates and the snail's pace of construction. Without getting too much into whether or not I'm happy about the proposition passing (I am), I'll merely point out something an angle rail supporters should have considered.

Now, I have no idea if the rail line running to Reliant Stadium will be completed in time for next year's Super Bowl. I do know that one of the reasons the people of Houston were told we had to fork over money to build it (as well as Enr...er, Minute Maid Park and the Toyota Center) was that these facilities would help Houston become a "world class city."

I remember first hearing this argument back in the late 1990's, and trying to come up with a list of such cities. I think I decided on New York City, London, Paris, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Beijing, Barcelona, Washington DC, Mexico City, and Los Angeles, though those I'm not going to argue too vehemently for those last few. Now, what's one thing all these cities have in common? Could it be...rail? Why didn't Metro take a page from Texans owner Bob McNair's playbook and use the rail proposition as a way to guilt us for not being cosmopolitan enough?

Whatever. I'm just glad it passed. I'm looking forward to being the first guy to carve some profanity in one of those trains.

Jingle all the way

I have vivid memories of the furor created when Michael Jackson bought the rights to the Beatles' entire catalog, then promptly sold "Revolution" to Nike. This was on the heels of the use of, among others, "Good Vibrations" by the Beach Boys to sell orange soda. The idea that the so-called artistic integrity of musicians could be compromised so easily was a heated topic of debate for a while before America went back to worrying about what Fawn Hall would be wearing to the Kennedy Center Honors. Like most people, I still managed to take note of when certain high profile songs appeared in commercials, though the end results were usually unsurprising. Was anyone all that shocked when the Rolling Stones let Microsoft use "Start Me Up" for their Windows 95 campaign? This from the band that's flogged the dying horse of their career for the last 20+ years?

Time was when we wannabe hipsters mocked the bands which sold their souls to Miller Genuine Draft (Phil Collins, Eric Clapton) or whatever it was Bachman Turner Overdrive allowed to use "You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet" (as if BTO needed further mocking). In recent years, however, it's startling how soon bands go from underground, word-of-mouth acts to pitchmen for the Gap or Hummer. This leads to the obvious question: can you be dubbed a sell-out if you haven't actually established artistic credibility?

There are still some notable holdouts: Neil Young, for one, and others like Bruce Springsteen and Paul Westerberg and dozens of others who, just because they haven't yet, doesn't mean they won't. Obviously I'm not counting bands that are either too freaky (the Residents) or those whose use as a product endorser would cause the company to fold (Marilyn Manson). Even artists once regarded as above such things, like the Clash and U2, have succumbed to the lure of easy money (admittedly, Mick Jones and company waited until Joe Strummer was in the ground before becoming automobile pitchmen).

Part of the problem is that most of the songs grabbed for commercials these days sound like they were written specifically for advertising: they're vaguely catchy and instantly forgettable. Most of the time, I'm not even aware I'm hearing something not specifically written to sell erectile dysfunction products. Honestly, it wasn't until songs that I actually liked started popping up in ads that I began to take notice.

For a bad example, I always kind of enjoyed the Sundays' version of the Stones' "Wild Horses," so it was a little jarring to see the Budweiser commercial that featured it (not nearly as disconcerting as the first time I saw the "London Calling" Jag commercial, however).

Nowadays, I tend to assume any jingle on a given commercial is some new pop song that's been co-opted for advertising. I have less of a problem with that than I do with established acts who continue to whore themselves for no good reason, frankly. The way the music industry operates at present (and I think Michael owes me a rant on this subject), 95% of new bands will be lucky to record a second album, much less establish a respectable career. If they keep up the endorsements, however, they get lumped in with the Britneys, Stones, and Aerosmiths of the world as acts that are less artists than salesmen.

A fact which I'm sure will trouble them mightily.

Dead and loving it

Saw the Alamo Drafthouse's presentation of the "Top 100 Kills" Halloween night. It went down quite well with several beers and the crowd of hooting rednecks sitting nearby. I didn't keep a list of the various deaths as they occurred, and there were more than a few films I didn't recognize, but I'll try to go over the "highlights."

#100 was the construction worker getting impaled through the crotch by a hood-mounted Bowie knife from "Death Race 2000." #1 was Slim Pickens riding the H-bomb in "Dr. Strangelove." In between, the audience enjoyed:

- Bruce Lee executing the ancient jeet kune do maneuver of "kicking the villain onto a spearpoint" in "Enter the Dragon
- "The Toxic Avenger's" 'face sundae a la Toxie'
- A little girl shot through her ice cream cone in "Assault on Precinct 13"
- Pvt. Pyle ventilating R. Lee Ermey in "Full Metal Jacket"
- Heather #1 drinking the hangover cure in "Heathers"
- Super airborne kung fu dogfight casualties from some kung fu flick
- Al Pacino receiving the Swiss cheese treatment from thugs with no concept of "covering fire" in "Scarface"
- A shaolin monk ill-prepared for decapitation from above in...some other kung fu flick
- Ming the Merciless: 0, War Rocket Ajax: 1 - "Flash Gordon"
- Jon Voigt falling victim to the "ultimate killing machine" in "Anaconda
- Bambi's mom...'nuff said
- Mola Ram perfecting the 'eagle claw of Kali' in "Temple of Doom"
- A medley of deaths from "Riki-Oh," including the famed "head crusher" and the corpulent thug forced with excruciating slowness into a meat grinder
- A trifecta of schoolgirl gun violence from "Battle Royale"
- Indy shooting first in "Raiders of the Lost Ark"
- Bjork getting her neck stretched before she can shatter any more eardrums in "Dancer in the Dark" (I suspect this was included less for style of death than for the fact that it was, y'know, Bjork)
- Japanese schoolgirls: 0, Subway train: 40 - "Suicide Circle"
- "Mom! Dad! Don't touch it! It's evil!" - "Time Bandits"
- The fire extinguisher pummeling that never ends from "Irreversible"
- The further blurring of the line between pleasure and pain in "Nekromantik"

I won't discuss the scene from "Antropophagus" - if you were there, you know which one I'm talking about - ye gods.

Try as I might, I haven't been able to find a comprehensive list anywhere, which is too bad as I seem to have forgotten a number of entries...for some reason.

UPDATE: As my memory returns, I'll keep adding to the list. Norbizness also has several in his 10/20 blog entry.

Chick-a-boom

Nothing starts the day off like a new Jack Chick tract. In his latest, "The Sky Lighter" (no relation to "Sky King") Chick takes an expected stance on the issue of fanatical Muslim suicide bombers (he's against them) and ends with this bit of wisdom:

Jesus is the only way to heaven. All who follow Islam will be cast into the lake of fire.

If you ask me, Chick drops the ball with his new one. Sure, Jesus tells Abdulla that Muhammed is a liar and that he's going to hell, but where's the eternal-damnation-as-Cramps-video depiction of the Inferno we've come to expect? Where are the cavorting devils, smoldering caverns, and writhing figures of the damned?

Talk is cheap, Chick. If you're going to threaten the heathens with the big molten lagoon, they deserve a little visual payoff.

Plenty of nice Chick touches abound, however. There's the fat cleric sweating lustily over his description of the 70 virgins that await the young bombers, and the blissful look on Christian convert Yusuf's face as he reads the Bible to Abdulla.

"Yusuf," eh? Could this be a deliciously subtle dig at the former Cat Stevens?

Oh, that Chick.

Truth is more hideous than fiction

The Guardian Observer has a story about the murders of scores of young women in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico over the past ten years, and the journalist who might be able to shed some light on their deaths. Via Warren Ellis' blog:

'Rich killers' stalk City of Lost Girls

Ciudad Juarez is known as 'the city of the dead girls'. In 10 years almost 400 women have been murdered in this city on the border between Mexico and El Paso, Texas, and the killings continue. Now a courageous Mexican-American journalist is alleging a group of six businessmen is behind the slaughter. Described as 'untouchables', their wealth puts them above the law. Their motive is said to be blood sport.

The border has always been violent, but organised crime exploded in 1993 when the Carrillo-Fuentes drug cartel, known as the Juarez Cartel, took control. It is the most powerful cartel in Mexico, and the most brutal, being responsible for trafficking most of Latin America's drugs into the US. In daylight, the narcos smuggle their loads across three bridges that link Juarez with El Paso. Law enforcers on either side have the choice, according to one former trafficker, of being 'very rich, or very dead'.

Cartel members live in garish mansions in the Golden Zone of Juarez, a far cry from the shanties where most of the city's two million residents subsist. The narcos pay millions of dollars in bribes to stay above the law and Juarez has become one of the money-laundering capitals of the world. Narco money has built 'legitimate' businesses and made Juarez the fourth-largest city in Mexico. The rise of the cartel coincided with the feminicido, the female murders. The first victim was Angelica Luna Villalobos; her body was dumped in the Alta Vista neighbourhood in 1993.

The article goes on to say that perhaps two-thirds of the killings can be attributed to domestic violence or random crime, while around 100 exhibit common characteristics: rape, torture, and mutilation. One reporter claims to have evidence of who's behind them.

Diana Washington Valdez has investigated the murders for five years for the El Paso Times. Courageous in the mould of Veronica Guerin, the investigative journalist murdered in Ireland, she has gone on the record about the killers' identities. In doing so, she knows she is putting her life on the line.

In her book, Harvest of Women, to be published next year, Washington exposes the seedy underworld of Juarez's narco-traffickers. 'The girls are carefully screened,' she says. 'They're always a safe bet. Disposable women. They are watched in advance for suitability - young and poor.'

Washington's accusations are based on her research and on leaks from the FBI and Mexican investigators.

Valdez's book names names, and exposes the corruption and incompetence of Mexican law enforcement (the Mexican Human Rights Commission and Amnesty International have both criticized Mexican authorities' handling of the case). Her name also comes up in a WNYC story they aired a couple months ago about the activist role several journalists have taken with regard to the murders.

If what Valdez asserts in her book is correct, it would be like something out of Horror Tales. I have no idea how accurate Harvest is (though I fully intend to read it), but if even half of it is true then Valdez is a stone bad-ass. She's not making these accusations from Boston or New York, but from right across the notoriously porous border. She says she's knows she's putting her life on the line. I say don't take the 'over' on how soon before someone tries to Silkwood her brake line. Assuming they haven't already.

Most Texans have been aware of the maquilladoras murders since at least the early 1990s. The fact that Ciudad Juarez is not exactly a tourist destination, to put it mildly, and that the victims are poor women, helped keep the murders under the national radar for quite some time. Even so, Texas state legislators have protested the authoritie's apparent inaction in El Paso, and thousands of Mexican women marched in Mexico City to call attention to the inefficiency of the investigations.

The murders have continued through several high profile arrests - including an Egyptian man previously convicted of rape in Florida, several members of a local gang, and a group of bus drivers. All claimed to have been tortured by the police in order to incriminate themselves. Attempts have also been made to tie some of the murders to "Railway Killer" Angel Resendez-Ramirez. Finally, the "wealthy sadist" theory isn't the only one out there: satanic cults (Mark Kilroy, anyone?), organ harvesters, and a police gang have been blamed (several Mexican state and federal policemen are still listed as suspects).

Meanwhile, things aren't looking so hot for area women:

Now the feminicido seems to be spreading. In the neighbouring city of Chihuahua, at least 16 young women have disappeared over two years in a seemingly copycat pattern. Eight have turned up dead.

The whole situation has long since metastasized from startling tabloid fodder into a full-on clusterfuck of tragic proportions. If Valdez is correct, then there's really nothing to stop the men responsible unless they're caught in the act. The only other hope may lie in increasing negative publicity and dwindling tourist dollars, which might finally force the Mexican government to take action. But don't hold your breath.

You mean "Melrose Place" isn't coming back?

Litter isn't just a problem for my living room. According to CNN, that newfangled internet is also cluttered with abandoned web pages:

Despite the Internet's ability to deliver information quickly and frequently, the World Wide Web is littered with deadwood -- sites abandoned and woefully out of date.

Crap, that reminds me...I need to update my Buckner and Garcia page.

One study of 3,634 blogs found that two-thirds had not been updated for at least two months and a quarter not since Day One.

Whereas the rest of us simply haven't figured out yet that nobody cares. I credit those two-thirds mentioned in the article for coming to their senses sooner.

Other sites die because an event came and went -- political campaigns end, the new millennium arrived without computer-generated catastrophe.

Oh, really? Where were all the sites warning us about the "Final Fantasy" movie?

But neglect is a more common reason that sites linger past their prime.

A fan site for the TV show "Melrose Place" also remains static. Though the site promises "new additions" beyond the final episode, its home page proudly announces, "News Last Updated 05/24/99" -- the date of the finale.

If "Melrose" had been a science fiction series, I guarantee that this site would get daily slash fiction updates. Sometimes it's better to be ignored.

Treehouse of Boredom

I echo the thoughts of Michele at A Small Victory, who was none too impressed with tonight's "Treehouse of Horror" episode of "The Simpsons." Not only is it lame to premiere the Halloween episode two days after Halloween (a fact not lost on Kang and Kodos, thankfully) but it lacked anything resembling horror. The only saving grace was "Frinkenstein," because any Frink is good Frink (and Jerry Lewis as Frink's dad was an inspired touch).

The other vignettes were simply weak. One of the writers must have skimmed On A Pale Horse recently, or possibly read the Cliff Notes, and if you must parody a mediocre sci-fi flick, it should probably be one that a majority of your audience actually saw.

I know: bitch, bitch, bitch. But frankly, it's their own damn fault. Groening and company made some of the best television of all time (and having watched snippets of "CBS at 75" tonight, I feel secure in saying this...*shudder* Jim Nabors...). Naturally, the bar's set a little higher than for, say, "According to Jim." The last few seasons have still offered some peaks in quality ("Bye Bye Nerdie," "Weekend at Burnsies"), but the valleys are becoming deeper and longer lasting ("A Tale of Two Springfields," just about all of Season 13).

Typically, I don't have a lot in the way of suggestions: not relying so much on "guest stars" to pad the episodes out might be a start. And you can never have too much Krusty. Other than that, I'm keenly aware of Bart's comments to Comic Book Guy regarding the fact that the makers of the show don't owe me jack squat. I'm trying to be constructive here because I am such a big fan, and because I want to be able to argue convincingly that 7 PM Sundays must remain "Simpsons" time in my house.

Not that I expect a serious challenge from "American Dreams" anytime soon.

Jesus - The True Hollywood Story

ABC is airing "Jesus, Mary, and Da Vinci" tomorrow night, a news special which purports to examine the "unknown story" behind the J-Man:

The best-selling novel The Da Vinci Code has sparked a vigorous debate by raising a number of provocative questions — most notably, was the historical Jesus really a married man?

It would explain why he didn't mind being crucified.

Ba-dump-tch

You say goodbye, I say Hallow(een)

Some minor items of annoyance on the morning following Halloween:

1. Infants should probably not be brought trick-or-treating, especially when the temperature is pushing 80 degrees and their parents insist on wrapping them in full body costumes. None of the kids pushed to our front door in strollers had any idea what the hell was going on. And I'm not even sure all of them were alive.

2. If you're going to have the audacity to grovel for candy at my house, put on something resembling a costume. Adolescents wearing street clothes and holding their loot sacks out get jack squat. Try that shit in the Heights, where they tend to get desensitized due to sheer numbers.

3. Complimenting the 8' spider on the front porch will get you extra candy.

4. Coming back for seconds will get you a kick in the ass. Figuratively speaking.

5. If you're still dressing as a Power Ranger, you need to hit Mom up for a new costume. Pronto.

As far as specifics go, we went through about 13 bags of candy in a little under an hour and a half. Some of the trick-or-treaters liked the big spider, about half as many commented on the pumpkin carved in the "Batman: The Animated Series" motif.

Here's a rundown of the costumes we saw tonight, again demonstrating my affinity for pointless list-making:

Witch: 9
Cat (inlcuding lions and cheetahs): 7
Vampire: 6
Spider-Man: 5
Ballerina: 3
Cheerleader: 3
Death (or variant thereof): 3*
Hippie chick: 3
Mighty Morpin' Power Ranger: 3
The Hulk: 2
Ninja: 2

We also had Bob the Builder, a shaolin monk, a dad dressed as Michael Myers, the Crow, a samurai, Pocahontas, a kangaroo, and the girl who crawled out of the well in "The Ring." Seriously, she creeped me the hell out.

In between fattening up the children of America, we watched "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and several "Treehouse of Horror" episodes. I'd have to say it was a successful evening all around.

* I'll give extra points to the kid who corrected my hailing him as Death with, "I'm the Grim Reaper." Glad he cleared that up.