A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

In Utah there is no beer

Sorry to obsess so much on one topic, but free beer (as offered at last night's Femme Fatale party) doesn't mean a lot when it takes 25 to have a noticeable effect. Because if Sundance is about anything, it's numbing yourself against the deluge of shmoozing going on.

Hey there, hi there, ho there, little campers. Coming to you live from Park City on Eric Campos' shitty dial-up connection, so no pics as of yet, not that I've taken any worth showing. All nakedness has taken place off camera.

Let me just say that an indoor jacuzzi on the second floor of a condo is a recipe for disaster. No one's actually braved the hot tub yet...a houseful of dudes doesn't really make the prospect all that appetizing, but someone will get stupid before too long, I predict, and all cameras will be at the ready.

Don't know what else to report. Weather's great (warmer than in Houston, I suspect), everybody's getting along pretty well (not much of a claim, given that the first weekend isn't even over), and much hand-wringing is taking place over how best to increase our BAC without driving to Colorado.

Oh right, movies. Saw Brothers last night, a Danish film about...uh, two brothers, and New York Doll, a documentary on the post-music career of New York Dolls bassist Arthur "Killer" Kane. Both were refreshingly decent. Seeing Inside Deep Throat tonight and then, hopefully, hitting the GenArts party.

Hope everyone's enjoying their non-fabulous showbiz lives. More tomorrow.

You gotta lose your mind in Utah, Park City.

The honchos at Film Threat obviously didn't learn their lesson following my near-constant drunkenness and annoying habit of prank calling Minnie Driver last year, because they're sending me to the Sundance Film Festival once again. In less than 24 hours I'll be traveling to the chilly confines of Park City to rub elbows with bored celebrities and the self-important media assholes who love them.

Tomorrow's a travel day, but all during next week you'll be able to find pithy commentary, out-of-focus photographs, and bitter diatribes from the festival right here in this very spot.

Will your intrepid reporter be able to snap a picture of Crispin Glover before getting a boot to the head? Will he remember to bring enough liquor to counter the annoying ineffectiveness of 3.2 beer? Will Monica Bellucci inexplicably fly to Utah to profess her undying love for him? Stay tuned.

"Oh, I've wasted my life."

The Norbster has issued a challenge to all of us to list the movies we've seen in the IMDb's Bottom 100. I'm pretty sure I've done this before somehwere else, but in the interest of exposing you all to the glamorous life of the movie critic, here goes (click "more" for the list):

100. The Avengers
98. Surf Ninjas

Few if any movies thematically centered on ninjas can truly be called bad. IMDb voters would be wise to remember this, especially if they don’t want a wakasashi in the caboose.

97. Best Defense
95. Speed 2: Cruise Control

The first Speed made $121 million, the second: $48 million.

Maybe Keanu’s smarter than everyone suspects.

92. Mac and Me
91. Superman IV: The Quest for Peace

I always get this one mixed up in my head with Quest for Fire, which leads to some extremely disturbing mental imagery. Not that there isn’t Superman/Lex Luthor slash fiction out there already, of course.

86. Iron Eagle II

It’s not surprising that Lou Gossett Jr. made a sequel to the mediocre Iron Eagle, but that he made two more after this one. Gossett is perhaps the most blatant example of Supporting Actor Oscar winners who plummet into awfulness, though Cuba Gooding Jr. is giving him a run for his money.

84. Universal Soldier: The Return

In the theater, no less. Most definitely not on a date.

83. Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice
81. The Mangler

I'm pretty sure Maximum Overdrive was on this list at some point as well. Both it and The Mangler merely reinforces the theorem (and I realize CotCII isn't precisely Stephen King material) that King's stuff just doesn't translate well to the screen. Of course, I have to wonder who greenlit the idea of a film about a demon-possessed speed-ironer. I suspect Jon Peters had something to do with it.

79. RoboCop 3
77. Jaws 3-D

Once you hit the 3rd in a series, you're well past the point of no return in terms of hanging it up. Both the second RocoCop and Jaws movies were lackluster, but still watchable. The same can hardly be said for these, though I still maintain that Jaws 3-D is a comedy triumph. Also saw both of these in the theater (the latter with 3-D glasses, no less).

Useless trivia: Jaws 3-D was the first movie Lou Gossett Jr. made after his Oscar-winning performance in An Officer and a Gentleman.

72. Double Dragon
67. Street Fighter

I'm too lazy to check, but I think Jean-Claude Van Damme has something like 600 movies in the Bottom 100.

65. The Brain that Wouldn't Die
62. Mortal Kombat: Annihilation
61. Rhinestone

It's refreshing to see some big budget studio turds on this list. Small, independently-produced films like Manos and all that German crap at the bottom of the heap are easy to laugh off, but it takes a special kind of maelvolent skill to take recognizable stars and millions of dollars and still turn out a stinker like Rhinestone.

60. Spice World

For the umpteenth time, I will defend the virtues of this film. which can be summed up with the following phrase: pre-bulimia Geri Halliwell in a Wonder Woman costume. Thank you, and good night.

59. Tarzan, the Ape Man

Under the Pete's Unabashed Dictionary entry for "awkward," you'll find this definition:

Watching Tarzan, the Ape Man on HBO with my parents at the age of 11.

Not much eye contact made with mom and dad that night, I can tell you.

57. Bride of the Monster

Filling the huge Bela Lugosi/Tor Johnson gap left when Plan 9 from Outer Space gained cult popularity.

54. Captain America
53. Piranha 2: The Spawning

One cannot call himself a James Cameron or Lance Henriksen completist without having this in their collection.

51. Smokey and the Bandit 3
52. Police Academy 5 - Assignment: Miami Beach
48. Teen Wolf Too
45. Police Academy 6 - City Under Siege

I can only equate my grim determination to watch all the Police Academy movies with the compulsion other have to read Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series. At least my sickness takes less time.

42. Bolero
40. The Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Still better than the 2003 remake.

38. Jaws: The Revenge

Wait, are you saying Michael Caine was in a shitty movie? Perish the thought.

36. Cool As Ice

JOHNNY
Drop the zero and...dammit, Kathy. I just can't go on with this macho facade anymore. Must I keep up this frosted hair, Ninja-riding, angular jawline bluster? Or can I come to you as I really am?

KATHY
Um, I guess so.

JOHNNY
Hold me.

Couldn’t be any worse than the actual dialogue.

35. Hercules in New York
33. Baby Geniuses

Yeah, Baby Geniuses is absolute shit, but its overall lack of anything resembling quality is made all the more disturbing when you realize the director, Bob Clark, also helmed Porky's and A Christmas Story. Maybe he had one of those Regarding Henry incidents where some head injury made him so mentally challenged he only wanted to be good. Only, in an ironic twist, his post-trauma films have loosed more evil on the world than he could have ever imagined.

31. Battlefield Earth

Everybody who piled on this kind of missed the point. Yeah, it's ridiculous that humans 1000 years removed from technology could learn to pilot aircraft (that are inexplicably still operable a millennium later) and defeat their alien overlords...but only if you didn't read the book. What kind of movie did you expect to come out of that pile of crap?

29. Robot Monster
27. Santa Claus Conquers the Martians

I'm really surprised these are still as high up on the list as they are.

When the inevitable Phil Tucker revival comes along, Robot Monster should be supplanted by Pearl Harbor.

26. The Giant Spider Invasion

Laugh it up, but the poster for this sure made six year-olds like yours truly think it was going to be scarier than it was.

Then again, maybe it was because of that Sid & Marty Krofft font. Sigmund and the Sea Monsters always creeped me out.

22. Police Academy: Mission to Moscow

See above.

20. Going Overboard

I don't have a comment for Adam Sandler's first feature film, except to say I can't believe this is out on DVD, and I'm still waiting for the special edition of Half Baked.

14. Hobgoblins
13. Troll 2

Where the hell is Critters 3?

12. Eegah

Surely we can end our nation's long period of suffering over this. And can we finally forgive Arch Hall Sr.? Sure, he directed the horrific Eegah, but he also wrote The Corpse Grinders, the best film ever made about corpse grinding.

Call it a push.

8. Future War
7. From Justin to Kelly

I have a lame excuse. FJtK came on Cinemax when I was so weak from food poisoning I literally couldn't lift the remote.

Sure helped move my bowels, though.

3. 'Manos' the Hands of Fate

Woof. That's some list.

I'd like to point out that none of these were "cheats," i.e. watched via MST3K. I'm not sure whether to be proud or ashamed of that.

That's only 43, which is down some from my previous tally. I blame these upstart newer movies from knocking some of the classics off the list. Then again, it still comes out to about 3 solid days of my life spent allowing John Travolta and Vanilla Ice to pollute my subconscious until the end of time.

Then there's Chuck, who chimes in with his big one entry. What's the deal, Chuck? You actually value your free time or something?

Road to nowhere

The de-gangstafication of Ice Cube continues in Are We There Yet? A review is up in the usual place.

What Natalie Maines said

My only inauguration-related entry is as follows:

You didn't go to my school, George. You don't get to make that sign.

Unless the float that just went by had Black Sabbath on it. In which case, knock yourself out.

All too easy

I love the smell of cheap laughs in the morning...

"So, Dr. Rice...how much credibility do you think the State Department will have under your stewardship?"

"We missed the WMD by that much."

"I'm crushing your head, Sen. Boxer."

Pass the Assault

America's favorite pastime, remaking movies, continues this week with the release of Assault on Precinct 13, a do-over of John Carpenter's 1976 classic. Even given the usual sentiments expressed toward remakes on this site (and as you'll be able to determine from my review), I liked it just fine.

Congratulations, son...you aced your "Fatty Boom-Ba-Latty" midterms

Yeah, great idea:

Texas school districts would be required to include the body mass index of students as part of their regular report cards under a bill introduced by a lawmaker seeking to link healthy minds with healthy bodies.

When the measurement, which calculates body fat based on height and weight, indicates a student is overweight, the school would provide parents with information about links between increased body fat and health problems, said Democratic state Sen. Leticia Van de Putte.

"We should be just as concerned with students' physical health and performance as we are with their academic performance," she said.

This will be a great boon to parents who, in spite of buying clothes for their children and seeing them around the house every day, still have no idea the kid is obese.

Never mind the fact that BMI is a flawed, 19th century formula for fat measurement (according to this article in the New Zealand Herald, for example, all but one of the All Blacks are overweight), it isn't like fat kids don't know they're fat, for crying out loud.

Are they going to assign grades to different BMI scores? Does coming in over 30.0 earn them an "F?" If not, then why put in on a freaking report card in the first place?

Goyer should've bet on black

Jeez, I knew it was a bad movie, but surely we can express our opinions without resorting to threats of violence, right Wesley?

Actor Wesley Snipes threatened to kill Blade: Trinity director David Goyer because he felt his all action character had been sidelined to make room for two new ones. The 42-year-old's co-stars, Ryan Reynolds and Jessica Biel, recently complained he had alienated himself from everyone working on the third installment of the vampire-fest, by remaining in character for the entire duration of the shoot. And movie insiders tell British magazine OK! that Snipes was so furious about his marginalized role, he made physical threats against Goyer. An insider confides, "Wesley made death threats against David. David was scared for his life." But a spokesperson for Goyer counters, "Wesley is a method actor. There's always a lot of tension on set."

Method or not, Snipes is a 5th degree black belt in karate, and knows boxing and capoeira as well. Maybe this says more about my character than I should divulge, but If he'd made death threats against me, I'd be investing in a few firearms and hiring Bas "El Guapo" Rutten and Tito Ortiz for protection rather than letting my publicist laugh it off.

Speaking of disturbing toys

Warning: Parental topics to follow. Those not interested should go off and amuse themselves by making fun of "breeders" and sleeping in until 10 on weekends.

When The Wife and I first found out we were having a baby, one of the ways in which I tried to mentally prepare myself for the ordeal miracle of child rearing was to familiarize myself with as many of the terrifying characters that make up the children's television entertainment pantheon as possible. Like most of us, I knew about most of the heavy hitters like Barney and the Wiggles already. And while I personally find them as annoying (and intellectually challenging) as an Ann Coulter editorial, I am also enough of an alleged adult to realize a big magenta dinosaur and a quartet of Australian closet cases aren't meant for me. Kids like 'em, and if mine ever succumb to their siren call, so be it.

But the Wiggles are pretty well known. Like Rugrats or SpongeBob, even the childless have heard of those guys. Therefore the next level of preparation involved seeking out TV shows and entertainers who would probably slip under the radar of those poor unfortunates lacking children but still awash in free time and disposable income. While researching the second stringers, I came into contact with the likes of Noggin's Moose A. Moose (possibly the most unenthusiastically voiced cartoon characters since Eeyore) and Dora the Explorer, not to mention Rolie Polie Olie. There's also a pantload of anime out there, but hopefully I can avoid having to explain what those tentacles are doing when we accidentally queue up Legend of the Overfiend instead of Legend of Himiko on Netflix for a couple years yet.

So far, so good. She Who Shall Not Be Named doesn't watch much TV, but what she has checked out tends toward the classics like Sesame Street and dad's new Bullwinkle DVDs. Given this, I felt confident that I could handle anything else we came across on the tube.

Unfortunately, nothing could prepare me for the eldritch horror from beyond the veil of night that is...Boohbah. What the hell are Boohbahs? Good question:

The Boohbahs are five colorful atoms of energy. Humbah (yellow), Zumbah (purple), Zing Zing Zingbah (orange), Jumbah (blue), and Jingbah (pink) are powered by the laughter and joy of children they encounter all over the world. The Boohbahs live in a glowing white ball of light, the Boohball, which travels from country to country when called by children. Each Boohbah has a "recharging pod" within the Boohball. The recharging energy is created by the laughter of children when they play with the Boohball, the Boohbahs and the Storypeople.

Now we know the truth: Gorgon wasn't really Melvin Belli, it was the Boohball all along.

Now that I think about it, this reminds me more of that Battlestar Galactica episode with the Ovions. Or, for those of you born after 1980, The Matrix. It seems like only a matter of time before the diabolical Boohbah complete their global network of Energy Extraction Modules, each containing a small child, their eyes propped open while they're forced to watch an endless series of Winnie the Pooh and Dr. Seuss cartoons and poked with robotic fingers in order to keep the laughter coming. All between force feedings of nutrient paste, of course.

The Teletubbies were bad enough; nonsensical multicolored blobs of gibbering protoplam that they were, but there's something far more sinister about this Boohbah phenomenon. I mean, they don't even have mouths...where's the goddamned sound coming from? And what's all this crap about Storypeople?

A group of children bring a present for the Storypeople to the center of the Magic Spiral and blow it into Storyworld through the power of Boohbah magic.

Just as I thought, they're in cahoots. Get my gun.

"Who knows what adventures they'll have between now and the time the show becomes unprofitable?"

With the release of Episode III looming over us like a herd of hot, sexy bantha, George Lucas is extending the franchise's merchandising into heretofore unexplored areas:

As seen in this photo released in New York by Hasbro, Inc., Friday, Jan. 14, 2005, Hasbro, Inc.'s Playskool division is launching a new Mr. Potato Head figure, Darth Tater. Available at stores nationwide in February, kids will be able to have all kinds of mix 'n match, Mr. Potato Head fun with this wacky spud dressed as the infamous Star Wars saga villain, Darth Vader.

What kind of "mix 'n match" fun can you have with a Vader spud? Does his helmet come off, revealing the scarred potato beneath? From a variant standpoint, Darth Vader is really the worst option Lucas has: he only wears one outfit throughout the original trilogy, unlike - to pick one of the more egregious offenders - Luke (who had spiffy ensembles from Tattooine, as a stormtrooper and an X-wing pilot, and from Hoth, Dagobah, Jabba's palace, and Endor). Hell, even the stormtroopers had three versions ("classic," Hoth snowtrooper, and Endor).

Oh, what am I saying? Just look at him. Such a cute and cuddly Sith lord.

How to get out of my CD rotation

The Fixx were always on the second or third tier of bands I listened to during my salad days of youth. Their music and videos were quirky enough to make me feel vaguely iconoclastic about listening to them, but they weren't exactly lyrically or musically challenging. All the same, I owned two of their records, either of which I'd play as a palate cleanser between repeated spins of the Repo Man soundtrack.

Because I decided at some point in the last ten years not to try and replace every LP I owned with CDs, I declined to purchase digital copies of Shuttered Room or Reach the Beach. I did, however, get a copy of 1989's One Thing Leads to Another, their greatest hits. It had a fair representation of their songs (the ones I was likely to want to hear, that is), including live versions of "Stand or Fall" and "Red Skies."

I should have known better. Live albums are always disappointing, because listening to a concert on CD is like watching someone else's homemade sex tapes: deeply unsatisfying and vaguely annoying. As a big fan of the studio version of "Stand or Fall," the first indications I had of something amiss were Cy Curnin's repeated ad-libs. Call me anal, but this isn't a U2 concert...keep your stream of consciousness BS out of my song. Worse, he actually had the gall include this line:

Stand or fall
State your piece tonight
Stand or fall
Let's keep it straight
For the children!

Back on the rack with you, my man. Any commentary about doing something "for the children" has no place in polite society unless heavily inflected with sarcasm or uttered by Helen Lovejoy.

"A gay, cross-dressing black giant waking up every day and living in West Virginia is more of a hero than Spider-Man, Lenny Bruce and Gandhi combined."

Patton Oswalt may be my current favorite stand-up. Nothing against Lewis "Jowls" Black or David Cross, but Oswalt speaks my language. Which is to say he talks a lot about heavy metal, booze, and Armageddon. His "Talent Showcase" on BobandDavid.com, featuring the script treatments of one Erik Blevins, are the stuff of legend, but his "online diary" (I wouldn't deign to label it a "blog") is pretty hilarious as well. For example, check out his most recent entry, about the (almost) week he spent in Charleston, WV.

Holy shit, the MALL! Wow. Packed with teenagers at 2pm on a weekday. Packed. Facial skin like Pop Rocks. All talking about meth. I'm not kidding. I got so depressed I hung out near this loud-ass fountain that was like a liquid version of those Bose headphones. It drowned out all sound. I watched a chunky footballer scream at his skinny girlfriend until she cried. I have no idea what he said. Probably that he was out of meth.

We're so behind the times in Houston. People still smoke crack here, for crying out loud.

Elektrile dysfunction

Only time and the wisdom of the sages will tell us if Elektra is a worse comic book movie than Catwoman. I'm still up in the air about it, but as you've probably already figured out (without even having to read my review), Elektra is stink-tacular.

"Ay, un gato malodoro!"

Something to remember the next time Harry Shearer and company complain about their salaries:

The union actors who dub The Simpsons into Spanish are asking their Mexican audience for help as they fight for their livelihoods in a labor dispute that could silence the original Spanish voices from the 15-year-old animated comedy. ... The disagreement between the actors union and a Mexican contracting company is in the hands of government labor arbitrators at a time when the actors say they normally would be sitting down to tape the upcoming season of The Simpsons.

If an agreement isn't reached, the actors fear the company will hire new voices, changing the cartoon's Spanish alter egos — voices known throughout Latin America.

I never really thought about that, but I suppose Latin American audiences are as used to the Spanish language versions of Homer and Marge as we are of Dan Castellenata and Julie Kavner.

And Denny brought up a good point (in the initial e-mail exchange that alerted me to this): what the hell does Bumblebee Man sound like in Mexico? And do Mexican TV stations edit out the ending montage of "Kamp Krusty," with its loving depictions of cockfights and Krusty passed out after a tequila binge?

The Mexico's National Actors Association, a union founded in 1934 that now includes about 15,000 members, has accused a Mexican contractor of attempting to hire too many nonunion voices and breaking provisions of a collective bargaining agreement that dictates exclusive use of union labor.

The contractor, Grabaciones y Doblajes Internationales, maintains it has invited National Actors Association members and other actors to continue dubbing the cartoon series, but that the union is using strong-arm tactics to hold onto most parts.

The company argues it needs the new voices in order to compete.

Not to stem the forces of Latin American capitalism, but has anyone bothered to point out to these guys that almost all the voices in the English version of The Simpsons are done by six people?

These guys make around $55 a show, but Shearer's salary would be 2,804,700 MXN.

"All I wanted was a measly sandwich."

Reluctant as I've been to do it, I've finally gotten around to reviewing Enjoy Every Sandwich, the Warren Zevon tribute album. Please read with the knowledge that I, unlike other entertainment writers, don't really do music reviews. If you want competence in that regard, please go read Melanie's stuff. She's paid to do this kind of thing, after all.

"Searching for a Heart" - Don Henley
Sounds like something that didn't make the cut from the Building the Perfect Beast sessions. I'm not very fond of the minimalist arrangement, either. Not a promising start.

"Werewolves of London" - Adam Sandler
Surprisingly, this is not that bad. Sandler reins in his usual shtick, and really sounds like he's trying to do right by the original (with a few stupid stylistic exceptions). He's not entirely successful, but he deserves credit for trying.

"Reconsider Me" - Steve Earle and Reckless Kelly
This is what a little more like what I was hoping for. Earle may not be to everyone's tastes, but he doesn't try to ape Zevon's sentiment, and puts an earthier spin on things. And with nice backing from the Braun brothers. The best effort so far.

"Poor, Poor Pitiful Me" - Jackson Browne and Bonnie Raitt
I realize Browne and Zevon were boys, but they were also pretty much night and day personality and style-wise. Browne's voice is soothing enough, but that's the last thing this song needs. Raitt is more to my liking.

"My Ride's Here" - Bruce Springsteen
Ugh. The Boss at his worst Jersey elocution. Almost sounds like he's parodying himself.

"Lawyers, Guns, and Money" - The Wallflowers
No. Absolutely not. One of Zevon's greatest songs deserves better than these snooze rock douchebags are capable of delivering. I suspect this was only included in the lineup because Jakob Dylan's daddy shows up later on the album. Atrocious.

"Studebaker" - Jordan Zevon
A previously unreleased tune gets decent treatment from Zevon's son. Granted, his voice sounds more suited to mainstream country, but this isn't bad.

"The Wind" - Billy Bob Thornton
It's only fair that the worst singer on the album gets the weakest song. As a vocalist, Thornton is one hell of an actor.

"Splendid Isolation" - Pete Yorn
Bad move. This is a song about urban desolation and desperation...giving it to today's standardbearer for mopey slack rock is all wrong. And I say this as a Pete Yorn fan.

"Mutineer" - Bob Dylan
Dylan does as decent a vocal job as he has on anything in the last twenty years or so. Which is to say, not much. Not awful, but comes across lazy, and that's worse.

"Monkey Wash, Donkey Rinse" - David Lindley & Ry Cooder
Lindley and Cooder twist this one up nicely without completely mucking it up. Well done, but who thought "MW,DR" was one of Zevon's best?

"Don't Let Us Get Sick" - Jill Sobule
Sobule is all wrong for a song that should come across as the self-composed epitaph of a person with a lot of mileage on them. Instead, she sings it in that little girl voice that makes half of Kasey Chambers' songs unlistenable as well.

"Ain't That Pretty At All" - The Pixies
I'm not going to say I'm that enamored of this..."reinterpretation," but I give them credit for trying. An interesting effort, if nothing else.

"Keep Me In Your Heart" - Jorge Calderon and Jennifer Warnes
Calderon does one hell of a Zevon impression, but what the hell is Jennifer "Up Where We Belong" doing on a goddamned Warren Zevon tribute album?

I dunno, with the exception of "Werewolves," "Lawyers," "Poor, Poor, Pitiful Me," and "Splendid Isolation," I have a hard time understanding why these particular songs were selected. Zevon's later albums were passable at best, unredeemably weak at worst, and emphasizing them here seems like a mistake.

Then again, after hearing some of the efforts here, it's probably just as well that they didn't bring John Mayer or the Counting Crows in to butcher "Desperadoes Under the Eaves" or "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner."

Set a course for Planet Druidia

Wait, you mean living in a city that routinely tops "worst air quality" lists and is surrounded by refineries and chemical plants might be bad for one's health? Well, honk my hooter:

People living in some east Harris County neighborhoods, the East End and parts of Texas City are at greater risk of contracting cancer because of toxic chemicals released by the region's industrial plants, according to a state analysis of 2003 air quality data.

State air pollution monitors in Texas City, Galena Park, Houston's East End, Deer Park, Channelview and at the Lynchburg Ferry detected levels of three hazardous chemicals that, if inhaled during a lifetime, would likely generate 29 to 199 additional cases of cancer in a million people. Under normal circumstances, there is a risk of one additional case of cancer developing in a population of 1,000,000.

I can hear the anti-regulation crowd now: "But nobody spends their whole life on the Lynchurg Ferry. What's the big deal?"

"So, eleven hundred men went into the water. Three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest."

Oh goody:

J.J. Abrams, the creator of superspy drama "Alias" and this recent season's biggest small screen hit "Lost" is busy filling his future schedule with bigger plans. As if helming "Mission: Impossible III" wasn't big enough, the man is now attached to direct Universal Pictures' "The Good Sailor," according to The Hollywood Reporter.

The drama being written by Brent Hanley revolves around the sinking of the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis. On July 30, 1945, the Indianapolis was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine in the Philippine Sea. Hundreds went down with the ship, but about 900 sailors were left in shark-infested waters.

The ship was never missed, and by the time the survivors were spotted by accident five days later, only 316 remained. The ship's captain, Charles McVay III, was later court-martialed for the incident, the only World War II Navy captain to be court-martialed for losing his ship.

As if Open Water wasn't bad enough. At this rate, I won't be swimming in the ocean (or taking a bath) for the next twenty years.

A prince among assholes

Amazing to think the kid's handlers let him go through with something like this:

Britain's Prince Harry apologized on Thursday after he wore a Nazi uniform to a costume party two weeks before Queen Elizabeth is due to lead the country's holocaust memorial events.

In the latest of a string of gaffes, Harry, 20, wore a red and black swastika armband and an army shirt with Nazi regalia at the party at a friend's house on Saturday.
...
"I am very sorry if I have caused any offence," Harry, youngest son of the late Princess Diana and heir-to-the-throne Prince Charles, said in a statement. "It was a poor choice of costume and I apologize."

Saying he's sorry "if" he caused offense shows how sincere he is in his sentiments. As for the costume itself, You be the judge:

Well I remember the fate that befell the guy who wore an SS uniform to a Halloween party a few years back. I'm sure there are plenty of old timers who'd be only too happy to bury the little inbred idiot up to his neck in a Victory Garden in lieu of that non-apology.

Help us, Shia LaBeouf. You're our only hope.

It's good to know that we finally found those elusive WMD. Finally, some justification for this war that's cost the lives of over 1,300 American soldiers and 15,000 Iraqi civilians (to say nothing of the credibility of the United States).

What's that?

The hunt for biological, chemical and nuclear weapons in Iraq (news - web sites) has come to an end nearly two years after President Bush ordered U.S. troops to disarm Saddam Hussein. The top CIA weapons hunter is home, and analysts are back at Langley.

In interviews, officials who served with the Iraq Survey Group (ISG) said the violence in Iraq, coupled with a lack of new information, led them to fold up the effort shortly before Christmas.

Four months after Charles A. Duelfer, who led the weapons hunt in 2004, submitted an interim report to Congress that contradicted nearly every prewar assertion about Iraq made by top Bush administration officials, a senior intelligence official said the findings will stand as the ISG's final conclusions and will be published this spring.

Granted, this isn't as big a deal as, say, CBS firing some people, but we all need our priorities.

President Bush, Vice President Cheney and other top administration officials asserted before the U.S. invasion in March 2003 that Iraq was reconstituting its nuclear weapons program, had chemical and biological weapons, and maintained links to al Qaeda affiliates to whom it might give such weapons to use against the United States.

Gee, you'd almost think that bullshitting the American public in order to go to war would cost a Commander in Chief an election. Luckily, we're too precoccupied with where everyone's sticking their genitals to worry about such trivial matters as our President lying to us.

Unless it's about a blow job, of course. 'cause that involves genitals.

Bush has expressed disappointment that no weapons or weapons programs were found, but the White House has been reluctant to call off the hunt, holding out the possibility that weapons were moved out of Iraq before the war or are well hidden somewhere inside the country. But the intelligence official said that possibility is very small.

"Well hidden," eh? Sounds like the wrong team was on the job...

"Know what time it is?"
"Uh, two o'clock?"
"Time to pay the fiddler."

Though I may still be smarting from Boston's drubbing of the Cardinals in the World Series, this clip from Comedy Central about the price being paid by Red Sox fans cracked me up (courtesy of Len at the newly christened Dark Bilious Vapors).

Master Card, proud new owner of 90% of New England.
And 50% of Denis Leary's nuts.

"And they call the thing rodeo"

No offense to the fine people at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo ("Electrifying Bull Testicles for 70 Years!), but this year's concert lineup seems a bit weak.

And by "weak," I mean, "depressingly craptastic."

[This entry has gotten annoyingly long, so click on the More link to read the rest]

Tuesday, March 1 - Brooks & Dunn
Wednesday, March 2 - Alan Jackson

It's as I suspected. No new country acts have been discovered in the last 15 years. Worse, for Brooks, Dunn, and Jackson, the evolution of hairstyles stopped in 1987.

Thursday, March 3 – Armed Forces Salute - Neal McCoy, Charlie Daniels Band, Lee Greenwood

Which version of "Uneasy Rider" do you think Charlie Daniels will play? The one where he gets in a fight with rednecks for having long hair, or the 1988 version where he beats up queers?

I almost want to check this out just so I can see how many otherwise manly men break into little girl sobs as Greenwood rips into another stirring rendition of "God Bless the U.S.A." I can see it now: Old Glory on the Jumbotron, thousands of little plastic Made in China American flags waving in the audience. Now if you'll excuse me, I have something in my eye...

Friday, March 4 – Black Heritage Day - Alicia Keys

I imagine the annual planning for Black Heritage Day goes something like this:
Cowboy Executive #1: "They always make such a big deal out of those Prarie View Trail Riders, I guess we ought to give them a night of their own music."
Cowboy Executive #2: "Fine, what inoffensive Negro performer can we find this year?"

Saturday, March 5 - Gretchen Wilson

Wilson has that sleazy Lisa Marie Presley thing going, which I enthusiastically support. Regarding her music, I think I heard them play some on her 60 Minutes interview, but wouldn't recognize it if I heard it again.

As for her real-or-imagined image as a Skoal dippin', whiskey swiggin' redneck gal, I met a girl several years ago in Atlanta who dipped and drank Jim Beam, and she was pretty hot. Especially when yours truly was drunk at 4 in the morning.

Sunday, March 6 – Spring Break Stampede - Hilary Duff

The only way I'd check this out is if Lindsay Lohan parachuted in, Fan Man style, and the set devolved into a kendo deathmatch a la Lucy Liu and Uma Thurman in Kill Bill.

And you know you'd pay to see that, too.

Monday, March 7 – Spring Break Stampede - Jeff Foxworthy, Big & Rich

Congratulations HLSR, I did't think it'd be possible to put together a more unappetizing act than Charlie Daniels and Lee Greenwood, but you managed somehow.

As Jack Sparks is fond of reminding us, "Rich" from "Big & Rich" used to be in the excerable Lonestar. Jeff Foxworthy is allegedly a comedian, though I have yet to see conclusive proof of this.

Tuesday, March 8 – Spring Break Stampede - Keith Urban

Mmmm...Spring Break...

Jonesy: "Hey B-Dog! Wanna go down to the Strand to get some ass or do you wanna go to the Rodeo and see Keith Urban?"
B-Dog: "Who?"
Jonesy: "That country guy who looks like a cross between Owen Wilson and Kato Kaelin."
B-Dog: "Are we out of roofies already?"

Wednesday, March 9 – Spring Break Stampede - Kenny Chesney

I hope he wears that one t-shirt. You know, the one with no sleeves.

Thursday, March 10 – Spring Break Stampede - Rascal Flatts

The only name I can think of for your band that could possible be worse than "Rascal Flatts" is "Unit Shifting Clear Channel Whores." But then, they are kind of synonymous.

Friday, March 11 – Spring Break Stampede - Miller Lite presents Pat Green

I'm actually done hating on Pat Green for now. He was never my taste, to put it mildly, but he carved out a niche and made quite a name for himself down here. It was easy enough to laugh at his good old fratboy shtick back in the day, but his recent homogenization at the hands of his New York label is kinda sad.

Saturday, March 12 – Spring Break Stampede - Martina McBride
Sunday, March 13 – Go Tejano Day - Duelo, Jimmy G y El Grupo Mazz

Got nothin'. I know Martina McBride by name (and that she looks sort of like Katie Couric), and the Go Tejano bands not at all.

Monday, March 14 – Spring Break Stampede - Steve Miller Band

Bachman Turner Overdrive must have been booked at a mall opening somewhere.

The SMB has released ten albums in the last 20 years, 6 of which are either greatest hits compilations or live recordings, and their last original studio release was in 1993. You can find something better to do, even on a Monday night, than line this lazy fucker's pockets some more.

And that's counting CSI: Miami reruns.

Tuesday, March 15 – Spring Break Stampede - Brad Paisley

Jonesy: "Hey B-Dog! Wanna go down to the Strand to dose some high school chicks or do you wanna go to the Rodeo and see Brad Paisley?"
B-Dog: "Who?"
Jonesy: "That country guy who looks like a cross between Jake Gyllenhal and "Vinnie" from Doogie Howser, M.D."
B-Dog: "Which high school?"

Wednesday, March 16 – Spring Break Stampede - Maroon5

I guess the HLSR took my suggestion for an "Emo Night" to heart. Time will tell if they also fill the stadium with VX gas on said night like I recommended.

Thursday, March 17 – Spring Break Stampede - Montgomery Gentry
Friday, March 18 – Spring Break Stampede - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Someone really ought to attend both nights and do a side by side comparison to see which is worse: a Nashville-groomed act at the height of their popularity, or a once-great Southern rock outfit touring on the legacy of former accomplishments.

I'll pay. A copy of Graduation Day (starring Daphne Zuniga!) on DVD or Toby Keith's Greatest Hits. Your choice.

Saturday, March 19 – RODEOHOUSTON™ Finals - Clint Black

He'll be introduced, no doubt, by wife Lisa "Remember Me? I Used to be An Actress" Hartman-Black. Fortunately, Houston's Yellow Pages are pretty thick, so he'll have something to stand on.

Sunday, March 20 – RODEOHOUSTON Collegiate Championship - Clay Walker

Jonesy: "Hey B-Dog, you wanna go down to the Strand to bash homos or do you wanna go to the Rodeo and see Clay Walker?"
B-Dog: ...
Jonesy: "He's the country guy who looks like a cross between Matt Damon and Jan-Michael Vincent...B-Dog? Hey Smitty, I think B-Dog choked on his own vomit."
Smitty: "Get his weed."

Man, they couldn't even get Houston's own Destiny's Child to show up. George Strait either, and I thought he was required by law to play. In any event, unless I can get tickets to the bull riding compeition (or as I call it, the Annual Stomping of a Guy's Testicles By a 2,000-Lb. Behemoth He Had No Business Getting Near in the First Place), I'll probably sit this one out.

UPDATE: Quoth Norbizness, in the Comments:

From what my older friend tells me, he saw James Brown at the Livestock Show sometime in the late 60s, and I don't know whether he's fucking lying to me or not.

He's fucking lying to you.

The Rodeo's entertainment roster history can be found here. No James Brown, but plenty of repeat offenders, including:

Alabama (10 appearances)
Clint Black (12)
Brooks & Dunn (13)
Larry Gatlin and the Gatlin Bros. (12)
Crystal Gayle (8)
Vince Gill (10)
Alan Jackson (12)
Reba McEntire (15)
The Oak Ridge Boys (11)

I always assumed George Strait was King of the Rodeo, but at a measly 18 appearances, he's still second to Charley Pride, who's played 20 of them, including a consecutive streak from 1972 to 1989.

Then we have those multiple timers that make so sense. Mac Davis played seven times? Anne Murray played six? Hell, the Osmonds showed up four times, and that's just nutty.

Then there are those that simply defy explanation:

Michael "Cochise" Ansara - 1960
Tony Bennett - 2000
Dan "Hoss" Blocker - 1966
Peabo Bryson - 1995
C&C Music Factory - 1991
David Cassidy - 1972
Shaun Cassidy - 1980
The Cisco Kid and Pancho - 1954
Color Me Badd - 1992
Exposé - 1990
Leif Garrett - 1979
Lorne Greene - 1966
Engelbert Humperdinck - 1973
The Jackson Five - 1973, '74
The Lone Ranger - 1946
Jim Nabors - 1967, '69, '72
Petra - 1987
Styx - 2002
Survivor - 1987
Tony Orlando and Dawn - 1974

David Cassidy and Jim Nabors? 1972 was a hell of a year.

"I don't want no Commies in my car. No Christians either."

Downtown Houston's Bible has gone bye-bye:

A federal appeals court on Monday ordered a Bible removed from a monument outside a Harris County courthouse while the county appeals a federal judge's ruling that the display is unconstitutional.

n August, the 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans temporarily blocked U.S. District Judge Sim Lake's order to remove the Bible.

Kay Staley, a real estate broker and lawyer, sued Harris County in August 2003 claiming the display was offensive to non-Christians.

Lake found that the display at the civil courthouse violated the establishment clause of the First Amendment and gave the county 10 days to remove the Bible last summer. Harris County asked the appeals court to allow the Bible to remain during its appeal.

The appeals court did not address the merits of the case, but said Monday the Bible must be removed and refused to let the homeless mission responsible for the display intervene in the appeal.

Maybe I'm missing something, but why doesn't Star of Hope simply move the monument to one of its four locations in the city? Don't most charitable and/or non-profit organizations usually place plaques or other commerative items honoring patrons on the premises of the organization itself? William Mosher, whom the monument ostensibly honors, wasn't a county court official as far as I can tell, so why the big stink about removing it from government property?

Harris County Judge Robert Eckels, who has defended the display, was traveling and could not immediately be reached for comment Monday by The Associated Press. Eckels' spokeswoman, Gloria Roemer, said Eckels is disappointed with the ruling but would work to comply with the order as the county continues its appeal.

He made it back to town soon enough. I saw him bemoaning the Bible's removal on the 10:00 news, right before publicity whore/pastor Aubrey Vaughn showed up to describe the removal of the Bible as an affront to the very principles our country was founded upon. Because, you know, Christ created America for His chosen people. Or something.

As if to hammer that last point home, the reporter's final comments were made in front of the (now empty) monument, over which someone had draped an American flag. Only this version of the flag had a cross where the stars usually go. I shit you not.

That's good Jesus.

Bad TV Ponderings: Kenny Loggins on Ice

Some people seek out bad television, some have it thrust upon them. I didn't go searching for this little gem, which aired yesterday opposite the Colts-Broncos game, but when I saw the listing on my program guide, there was no way I could pass it up. Who among us could resist the siren call of 1982's answer to Bryan Adams? On ice? With Brian Boitano? Not I, pilgrim. Not I.

Immediately upon our discovery, The Wife was dispatched to obtain beer and jalapeno chips (actually, she volunteered, but it sounds more macho when presented the other way). The Thing That Walks Like a Man found himself in attendance as well, though not intentionally. I liken it more to the kid who hitched a ride in the Great Red Shark with Hunter S. Thompson in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, unknowingly swept up in an atavistic display of horror and excess.

[Only instead of five sheets of blotter acid and a tank of ether, we had Miller Lite. Other than that, it was exactly the same. Really.]

Unfortunately, we must have missed the "Danger Zone" performance. We started watching a little late, after Loggins had already gone into full-on "rock" mode by removing his blazer. The first vignette we did catch may have been "Leap of Faith" or "For the First Time"...it's hard to keep track when innundated with such genius. This particular one featured the toothsome Yuka Sato ice dancing suggestively in front of one, then two, and finally four dudes in jeans and tight-fitting t-shirts. I was a little hazy on what they were going for thematically until they hoisted her into the air, them it all fell into place: lone woman in miniskirt and tube top, four working class shmoes, bad music playing in the background...it's The Accused on Ice! I was waiting for the zamboni to come out pushing a pinball machine.

That took a lot out of me. Luckily, there were plenty of commercials. And let me point out that this picture - shown during the breaks in the program and also gracing his home page - simply cannot be Kenny Loggins:

On the show, Loggins was still sporting that "fluffer" 'do so often favored by victims of male pattern baldness. Maybe it was the hot lights on the stage in the Broome County Arena, or perhaps the incandescent performances from Todd Eldredge and Brian Effing Boitano melted his pomade. Whatever the reason, Loggins looked like he had a hedgehog on his head for the bulk of the show. No, some well-intentioned member of the Kenny Loggins Fan Club obviously decided to use a picture of one of Loggins' entertainment contemporaries in the desperate hope that a more appealing visage might draw more viewers. Therefore, I can only conclude that the picture above is none other than that of T.J. Hooker heartthrob Adrian Zmed.

Next up, a dazzling interpretation of Loggins' song, "The House on Pooh Corner." In the intro, he described this as a song to "make and raise babies" to. The alacrity of that statement (and who hasn't imagined laying some pipe to a song about Winnie the Pooh?) was satisfactorily reinforced by the ice performance, which depicted a typically dimunitive female skater cavorting playfully in a guy's lap. I think it's brave and, dare I say, heroic of Loggins to ignore societal conventions about sex and children by featuring such a daring ode to illegal love in a major network television special.

We were a little disappointed that no skating gophers were in evidence for "I'm Alright," or that John Lithgow didn't make a guest appearance for the thrilling finale, "Footloose." No doubt he had a prior engagement. Plenty of Brian "Kong" Boitano though, resplendent in enough sequins to make Donny Osmond weep for days over his Joseph Smith Edition Memorial Gila Monster.

So I decided, about one song/three beers in, that I would've gotten thrown out within ten minutes of the start of this thing. Hell, I might not have made it past the lights dimming. I imagine people who live in Binghamton, NY get a lot of drinking done in the winter, so I'd already be well into it before I even got into the arena. Once there, the full enormity of what was about to happen would hit me (and that I'd just spent $40 - minimum - on a ticket), and I'd be pounding $7.50 cups of Bud Light in the men's room in hopes of bringing about an amnesiac stupor. Failing that, I'd resort to loud catcalls. For the record, I couldn't decide which would be more likely to get me tossed: "Where's MESSINA?!" or "Play the GOPHER SONG!"

Or maybe the classic, "Your mama don't dance 'cause your daddy's GOT POLIO!"

Name that tune

RetroCrush is in the midst of releasing yet another exhaustive list. This time, it's the Top 100 TV Theme Songs of All Time. Personally, I'd be hard pressed to name 100 TV shows, period, so I once again find myself in awe/stupefied horror at Robert Berry and company's committment to the craft of pop culture rankology.

That said, I simply had to see where my own personal favorites ranked compared to his. Granted, they're only up to #44 so far (The Dukes of Hazzard), so consider this a cheap preemptive strike, fueled (or weakened) by a night spent watching the MI-5 marathon on A&E and drinking cheap beer:

10. The HBO Theme

You know the one: the camera swoops down over that miniature city, then out into space to confront the looming Home Box Office logo before it drowns the earth in Beastmaster reruns. I remember this from the early '80s, though I have no idea if it's still used.

9. Battlestar Galactica (#89)

Hey, this was impressive classical music to a 12 year-old, and it went a long way towards disguising the fact that 75% of the show's space battle footage consisted of recycled shots from the pilot episode.

8. M*A*S*H (#68)

This probably would've been a more effective song if they'd kept the original version with the lyrics, but CBS wanted more of a slapstick comedy in the beginning. And by the end, Alan Alda had such a hammerlock on the creative direction I fear the irony would've been lost. Still ranks way up there for me, however.

7. The X-Files

This is included less for any musical prowess displayed, and more for the fact that when the show originally aired - on Friday nights - I knew it signaled the beginning (or continuation) of 2 1/2 days of crippling alcohol consumption. Then Fox moved the show to Sundays and that small comfort was shot to hell.

6. The Muppet Show (#48)

"Why don't you get things started?" Would merit inclusion solely for Gonzo's revolving trumpet gag, as far as I'm concerned.

5. The Sopranos (#82)

Why did I think Gibby Haynes of the Butthole Surfers had something to do with this? I think one of the guys in Alabama 3 must look like him. Either way, a tight little song.

4. Battle of the Planets

This was first syndicated on one of our local TV stations in 1977, and I used to hum the theme while running home from school in order to catch it at 4:00. The hotheaded Jason was my favorite, before I came to appreciate the sublime beauty of Princess and the daring use of her panties as a plot device.

3. The Rockford Files

Another classic TV show that has yet to be honored with a DVD release, and with one of the all-time greatest theme songs to boot. Where else can you get James Garner, Bo Hopkins, Issac Hayes, and Noah Beery in one show? Not counting The Love Boat, that is.

2. Sanford and Son

An amazingly upbeat theme song for a show depicting the lives of an old black man and his son barely living above the poverty line. I expect this to be in RC's top 10.

1. Barney Miller

The closest thing a nine year-old kid living in Utah ever got to funk, and I've never forgotten it.

I can't include The Simpsons theme (#62) because I'm sick of it, frankly. It's a great slice of Elfmanism, but hearing it upward of 10,000 times at this point has caused it to curdle a bit in my mind.

Adn while I'm sure Miami Vice will rank highly, Jan Hammer gets no love here.

"Okay, wipe away a tear. Hug the loser."

Hot on the heels of APCB's splenderiferous showing in the 2004 Weblog Awards (2.2%! A mandate!), comes our nomination for Best Humor Blog in the annual Koufax Awards.

As always, I appreciate the nomination, as well as those of you who have already cast a vote for me. APCB is up against some heavy hitters, several of which (Happy Furry Puppy Story Time, The Poor Man, World O'Crap) actually appear to put thought into their blogs...meaning they exert more effort than simply quoting 12 paragraphs of someone else's text to insert a few lines of snark, or aping The Onion.

But the hell with it, this is my goddamn blog, so if you want to hie over to Wampum and cast a vote for me, I wont argue. I also won't hold it against you if you vote for any of the other fine blogs nominated, or if you think the whole thing's a bunch of crap and abstain entirely.

Traitors.

"Adventure has a new name"

And he's wearing cargo pants!

Okay, so they're all wearing cargo pants. But still...

I have somehow managed to live my entire life without reading a Clive Cussler novel, so it's not for me to say whether the above poster captures the spirit of the novel Sahara. If it does, well, then I don't feel quite so bad.

Two things the folks at Paramount might want to remember for next time:

1. When your tagline is "Adventure has a new name," the most effective tactic is to put it somewhere preceding the name in question. That way, when people read "Adventure has a new name," they should be saying, "What? What is it? I must know!" Then you drop "Dirk Pitt" on them, and they're all like, "Thank you, Paramount. I will gladly spend $9 to see your moving picture show." Otherwise, when they read "Adventure has a new name," they'll just say, "No shit, Sherlock. It's Dirk Pitt."

2. How hard is it to get the right names under the respective actors? Obviously, no one is going to mistake Penelope Cruz for Steve Zahn (Zahn's nose is smaller, in case you were wondering, though their chests look about equal), but all it does is make us think this film's going to be a sloppy, incomprehensible mess.

And that couldn't possibly be the case, could it?

Bring the Noise

Actually, just leave it at home. That's the gist of my review for White Noise, anyway. Up now in the usual place.

Fat City redux

The Astros may have fallen just short of the World Series, but Houston will always be #1 at something, it appears:

One minute Mayor Bill White debunked Men's Fitness magazine's methodology for labeling Houston the nation's fattest city, and the next minute he announced a new wellness initiative to combat the label.

"It's calculated with voodoo and fraud," White said of the rankings of 50 cities across the nation featured in the magazine's February issue, with Houston back in fattest place.

The magazine put Houston in second place last year, behind Detroit, but for three straight years before that Houston topped the list of heavyweights.

To determine the rankings, the magazine staff does not actually weigh anyone, but examines 14 elements of city life, including the number of fast food and pizza restaurants.

Hey, everything's bigger in Texas.

Of course they don't weigh anyone. Hard data might actually throw a wrench into that whole (# of fast food joints)/(# of gyms) formula that forms the basis for their annual publicity whoring. Sure, bad air quality and a climate that makes us stock up on Gold Bond in the summer doesn't help, but this isn't Mercury, you idiots. Plenty of people still work out and play sports outdoors in this city, even in August. If anything, that makes our citizens tougher than those in the alleged #1 fittest city, Seattle. How much intestinal fortitude does it take to strap on the running shoes when it's 60 degress and overcast every damn day?

Results of the creative formula differ from the findings of more official medical research. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, for example, has ranked Houston high — but not highest — in studies of obesity in American cities.

However, the magazine's annual report gets it a lot of publicity and elicits response.

Mayor White's response to this is all wrong. He shouldn't be going on the Today Show with the editor of Men's Fitness and declaring bold new health initiatives, he should challenge him to an eat-off. We'll declare our champion, probably Steve McKinney of the Texans, and afterwards - when the editor is lying prostrate on the ground below a half empty platter of Shipley's glazed donuts and crawfish - White can smother him with a chicken fried steak before planting a Texas flag in his chest.

At his fat-fighting news conference, White said the magazine editor told him if Houston follows through on the initiative, it likely will drop below fifth place next year, but the mayor has a bigger goal in mind.

"Let's get off that list," he said.

You've got bigger things to worry about, Mr. Mayor. Ignore these metrosexual assholes, get the firefighters a new contract, and resolve this pension thing. If it'll help, I'll switch to "lite" beer for the next month week or so.

And not to make room for the return of "Calvin and Hobbes," unfortunately

It seems the Los Angeles Times has made the long overdue decision to drop "Garfield" from its roster of comics (via Fark):

The Los Angeles Times dropped the daily version of "Garfield," the most widely distributed comic in syndication.

"Garfield" has received mixed reviews in recent years, but the Times is one of the few papers to ever dare pull it. Reader reaction? "We are getting complaints," said Jennifer James, a Times editorial aide, but she declined to reveal how many.

The Times dropped the daily "Garfield" effective two days ago -- while keeping the Sunday "Garfield" -- to make room for "Brevity," a new comic by Guy Endore-Kaiser and Rodd Perry of United Media (E&P Online, Dec. 9).

"We're always trying to get some new talent in the comics pages," said James, who did not make the "Garfield" decision.

I don't read the Times, and their comics aren't available online, so I may be barking up the wrong tree here (as if that's never happened before), but if the paper still carries any of the following strips, they're talking out of their asses:

Heathcliff
Marmaduke
Snuffy Smith
Andy Capp
Hi and Lois
Hagar the Horrible
Beetle Bailey
Family Circus
Fred Bassett
The Lockhorns
Luann
Ziggy
Wizard of Id

I'd leave "B.C." in, because nothing's funnier than pre-Christian cavemen who are...fundamentalist Christians.

"Garfield," shitty as it is/has always been, didn't befoul our fine comics pages until the late '70s, I think. "Fred Bassett" is older than I am, "Beetle Bailey" is a contemporary of my parents, and "Snuffy Smith" predates the Anschluss.

Gene Weingarten, a humor columnist for The Washington Post and Washington Post Writers Group, praised the Times decision during his weekly washingtonpost.com chat yesterday. He said the paper displayed "the kind of cojones missing in too many places" and described "Garfield" as "a strip produced by a committee, devoid of originality, devoid of guts, a strip cynically DESIGNED to be inoffensive and bad, on the theory that public tastes are insipid. Now we need others to follow suit. Like the Post."

Must have been someone other than the public buying all those suction cup toys and making all the books bestsellers, I guess. And maybe it was some secret conspiracy that netted last year's movie $75 million, but I doubt it.

I didn't realize "guts" were a requirement for newspaper comics. They can't be, really, since millions of people get their fix from the paper every day and are prone to freak out if someone on the editorial board makes noises about yanking "Cathy."

[Jesus, how did I forget "Cathy?" That's the worst one of the lot.]

For most people, I suspect, if a comic isn't in the paper, it isn't worth reading. It's probably asking too much to get these people off their butts to go online and check out the good stuff out there, so maybe it is up to the newspapers to shake things up by putting the Mort Walkers and Fred Lasswells out to pasture.

Wouldn't count on it, though. I can just see thousands of people writing in, furious because now they'll never find out if Beetle and Miss Buxley ever get together.

Putting the "simp" in "Simpson"

Poor little Ashlee Simpson just can't catch a break:

If only we watched sports, we'd have seen it live: our favorite fabricated "talent," Miss Ashlee Simpson, graced the stage at the Orange Bowl's halftime performance and didn't lipsync her way through the performance. How can we be sure? Because she sounded like some sort of dying, prehistoric beast. The crowd agreed, apparently, as the poor little thing was unceremoniously booed at the end of her performance.

The video in question is here (and keep your eye out for the conclusive evidence that punk is truly dead*). It's rather unsatisfying, considering there's no post-performance money shot of her running off in tears, to find comfort in the arms of former USC QB Carson Palmer.

Simpson manages to persevere even in the face of what would appear to be more than the requisite three strikes to ensure she never graces a stage again. Her older sister sings better (faint praise, to be sure) and apparently hogged all the comeliness genes; she's already been busted for faking it on stage, and didn't handle it well; she's not attractive; and she doesn't appear to be able to dress herself. One can't even call her inexplicable success a result of lucky sperm, but rather lucky sibling dynamics. If Jessica Simpson wasn't getting famous by blathering about Chicken of the Sea and flashing decolletage on MTV, then Ashlee would be working at Hooter's and singing karaoke on Saturdays, in a venue where her unique vocal stylings might actually be appreciated.

I don't really have anything against Ashlee Simpson, beyond the standard loathing/jealousy I feel for talentless millionaire dipshits, that is. Of course, talent has never been a prerequisite for success in America, though things have really gotten out of hand in this era of Paris Hilton, Ryan Seacrest, and George W. Bush. I'm still trying to figure out if Ashlee Simpson is self aware enough to laugh about how lousy she is all the way to the bank, or if she's actually deluded enough to be hurt when the unwashed masses have the temerity to boo or laugh at her.

Then again, I've managed to delude myself into believing people actually think my writing's any good, so there you go.

UPDATE: They played "Pieces of Me" at the gym this afternoon. The gods are cruel and stinky.

* The anarchy sign on the bass drum

55-19?

Man, I haven't seen a beating like that since the first ten minutes of Irreversible.

Pete's 2005 Film Preview, Pt. 1

As it was, so shall it be. This exercise always gives me a chance to get excited about the wrong films (did I actually admit to looking forward to Broken Lizard's Club Dread last year?) and harbor a dire sense of foreboding for others (e.g. last year's potshots at Collateral). Hastily rushing to judgment is part of what makes America - and by extension this blog - great, so if you don't like it you can take your Commie ass somewhere else.

Now then...

JANUARY

White Noise - Michael Keaton plays a man who becomes convinced his dead wife is using appliances to communicate with him from beyond the grave. Regardless of how the movie itself fares, it looks to have the plot that will most easily transition to porno.
Coach Carter - Lean on Me meets Stand and Deliver, with a dash of Hoosiers. Unlikely to get people excited about the NBA, unfortunately, unless they also mix in some Pulp Fiction.
Elektra - I predict this will be the movie that bumps Ben Affleck off the wagon (if he isn't there already). Not only will his girlfriend be a bigger movie star then he is, but in a spinoff of a film that was supposed to launch a new superhero franchise for Affleck that'll probably end up making more money than the original.
Racing Stripes - They keep sending me passes to see this, and I keep getting grievously ill at the last minute. Which is a damn shame, since I can't think of a better way to spend 90 minutes than listening to the voice work of Steve Harvey, David Spade, and Steve Harvey.
I really can't.
Assault on Precinct 13 - Lacking the infamous "But I wanted vanilla twist" scene, this looks to be another by-the-numbers cops and robbers picture, although with the continuing NHL strike, the presence of a character named "Jake Roenick" is going to have me looking for a guy in a Phoenix Coyotes jersey.
Are We There Yet? - "Life ain't nothin' but babies and minivans" just doesn't sound quite right, Cube.
Alone in the Dark - If the words "based on the Atari video game" or "starring Christian Slater" don't make you want to burrow into a pile of used 2600 cartridges, try these on for size: "director Uwe Boll." Or maybe these "Tara Reid plays an archaeologist."
Hide and Seek - The craptaculization of Robert De Niro's career continues apace. All that's left now is a sequel to The Fan.

FEBRUARY

Boogeyman - Seeing Lucy Lawless listed in the credits for this doesn't give me high hopes for its potential as a horror movie. After all, has there ever been a supernatural nasty that could stand up to Xena, Warrior Princess?
The Wedding Date - My fervent hope is that Debra Messing has similar box office clout to fellow NBC sitcomrades David Schwimmer and Matthew Perry. And Dermot Mulroney must've lost a poker game to Satan if he's appearing in yet another wedding-themed romantic comedy.
Hitch - Can Eva Mendes turn professional dating advsior Will Smith into an honest man? Will Smith's client (Kevin James) find the love of his life? Will anything I write in my review keep this from making $135 million?
Because of Winn-Dixie - Finally, a canine version of Where the Heart Is.
Constantine - A friend of a friend has a theory that Keanu Reeves is actually the greatest actor of our generation...until he opens his mouth. I'd amend that to say, "until he opens his eyes." Garth Ennis fans are advised to stay home.
Son of the Mask - The trick to this one will be precisely timing the moment to eat bad clams in order to make sure I can't attend this screening.
Cursed - Am I the only one who isn't hyperventilating over a press release trumpeting "The highly anticipated reunion of Wes Craven and Kevin Williamson, the creative minds behind the record-breaking Scream trilogy?" And in a film already bumped back several times from its original release date. Go rent Ginger Snaps and/or Dog Soldiers if you want a "re-invention" of the werewolf story.
Man of the House - See also.

MARCH

Be Cool - John Tarvolta dances with Uma Thurman again, further accentuating the uncomfortable distance separating the two on the attractiveness spectrum. And The Rock plays gay, whick will probably go over really well in the WWE.
The Pacifier - Comedy is the last resort for the action hero whose previous efforts have failed miserably. After A Man Apart and The Chronicles of Riddick, Vin Diesel needs this one.
A Sound of Thunder - Not only has the concept of hunting dinosaurs been covered quite ably in The Last Dinosaur, but time travel and its drastic repercussions on the present day were competently handled in that episode of The Simpsons when Homer became the first non-Brazilian to travel back in time.
The Honeymooners - Is it not really a remake if the originally white characters are played by black people? And what form will the phrase, "To the moon, Alice!" take in today's anti-wife beating climate?
Hostage - Also going by the title Bruce Willis Apologizes to the Moviegoing Public for "The Whole Ten Yards" and Will Now Resume Kicking People's Asses.
Robots - A stellar cast of Oscar, Tony, and Emmy winners are the latest to attempt to topple Pixar from the top of the animated movie heap. At least we can be assured of quality from Halle Berry, who hasn't made anything bad in the last year, right?
Expect the marketing for this to be smothering, even by today's standards, because I started getting swag for this from the studio months ago.
The Ring 2 - Desperate for franchise candidates, Dreamworks SKG is apparently trying to position the vengeful ghost Samara as the next Freddy Kruger. Hopefully, they'll keep the wisecracks to a minimum.
Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous - Any reason to bring The Shatner back to the big screen is a good one. And will America ever tire of its love affair with Sandra Bullock? I hope not.
Sahara - Commenter peenman assures me Matthew McConaughey is all wrong for the role of Clive Cussler serial stud Dirk Pitt. I'm inclined to agree, especially after reading this synopsis:

Searching for a treasure on the Nile, Dirk Pitt thwarts the attempted assassination of a beautiful U.N. scientist investigating a disease that's driving thousands of North Africans into madness, cannibalism, & death. The suspected cause of the epidemic is vast, unprecedented pollution that threatens to extinguish all life in the world's seas. Racing to save the world from environmental catastrophe, Pitt and his team, equipped with an extraordinary, state-of-the-art yacht, run a gauntlet between a billionaire industrialist and a bloodthirsty West African tyrant. In the scorching desert, Pitt finds a gold mine manned by slaves and uncovers the truth behind two enduring mysteries -- the fate of a Civil War ironclad and its secret connection with Lincoln's assassination, and the last flight of a long-lost female pilot....Now, amidst the blazing, shifting sands of the Sahara, Dirk Pitt will make a desperate stand -- in a battle the world cannot afford to lose!

Holy shit. That may be the best plot summary I've ever read.

APRIL

Sin City - See also.
The Cave - Cole Hauser gets another shot at opening a movie, leading one to suspect this was shot before the release of Paparazzi.
Unleashed - Sadly, this doesn't appear to be the title of the next Benji film. I also suspect this would've opened much bigger if Jet Li had actually perished in the tsunami.
The Amityville Horror - Ryan Reynolds gets to show his abs again, and audiences everywhere get to ponder once more why anyone would move into a house that was not only the setting for two brutal murders, but was also built on an ancient Indian burial ground.
Rebound - Martin Lawrence and Horatio Sanz? My cup runneth over.
Rumor Has It - What if The Graduate's Benjamin Braddock and Mrs. Robinson has a kid? What if that kid grew up to be Jennifer Aniston? What if Rob Reiner choked on his own tongue back in 2002 and we were spared both this and Alex and Emma?
Valiant - You know this "Greatest Generation" shit has gotten out of hand when they make a movie about the heroism of the British messenger pigeon corps. And my dad will be so depressed to find out this isn't actually about Prince Valiant.
The Interpreter - Maybe it's just me, but I have a hard time seeing a film set in and around the United Nations and co-starring Sean Penn making boffo box office here in the States.
Crash - I've been saying for years that we need a Canadian to come down here and tell us how racist our justice system is. Now if only Lars Von Trier would make another film...
House of Wax - A remake of a horror classic starring various flavor-of-the-month teen actors (Elisha Cuthbert, Chad Michael Murray) and a cameo by Paris Hilton? That's good for $175 million.
xXx: State of the Union - Will hopefully tie up those hundreds of loose plot threads left dangling after the first xXx.

MAY

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - I have absolutely no feel for this film. Martin Freeman, Sam Rockwell, and John Malkovich are all reasons to be optimistic, while the somewhat