A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

Incontrovertible and Hermetic Rules of Modern Life, #82

If Shannon Tweed is one of the actors toplining a (most likely) straight to video movie, she will be in lingerie on the box cover art.

To wit, Power Play, which combines the equally awesome visual elements of underwear and firearms:

Incontrovertible and Hermetic Rules of Modern Life, #477

Any place selling used books - be it devoted wholly to that purpose, a garage sale, or thrift store - will have a hardback copy of James Clavell's Nobel House available for purchase.

Still no book deal

To prove I'm still generating content - just not on APCB - here are some links to stuff I've written in the last few weeks.

Reviews

I haven't seen a lot of movies lately, thanks to the general insanity of the holiday season and a distinct lack of enthusiasm about most recent releases. To wit:

Twilight *1/2 - I'm no longer convinced "at least they're reading" is adequate when the books in question are as shitty as these.

Hair Balls - I've been a little more productive on this front (amazing what the promise of financial remuneration does for one's output). That said, I went a little apeshit on the whole "James Bond Week" theme:

The Top Five Bond Girl Names (11/10/2008)
The Top Five Henchmen (11/11/2008)
Best Five Non-Villain Deaths (11/12/2008)
Best Bond Villain Deaths (11/13/2008)
Five Best Bond Songs (11/14/2008)
Best Bond Villains (11/15/2008)
Best Bond Movies (11/16/2008)
How Quantum of Solace Stacks Up (11/17/2008)

I also did a couple of lists in "honor" of Twilight and Turkey Day:

The Five Worst Movie Vampires (11/21/2008)
Memorable Movie Thanksgivings (11/27/2008)

Finally, in response to those lousy Sam Houston Comcast commercials:

Top Five Commercials Featuring Political Figures (12/01/2008)

I do have some cool pics of She Who Shall Not Be Named on a zipline that I may have to post here.

Rhymes with "pyorrhea"

I made my first trip to the Galleria in about a year last week. It'll probably be my last trip for at least that long.

It actually wasn't that bad, even though I noticed the Christmas rush seems to have begun a few weeks early. I had to drive the West Loop last night to make a screening of Twilight last night (I'm still working on the maximally hilarious way to incorporate "sucking" into my review). From 290 to 59S took 25 minutes.

But that wasn't the case when She Who Shall Not Be Named and I headed over to kill a few hours while The Wife got some cold-induced couch time. We navigated through mercifully traffic-free streets and snaked one of those elusive first parking garage level spots less than two hundred feet from Neiman Marcus. Granted, we didn't actually buy anything but we did come up with some amusing mall activities.

1. Go to the Apple Store and see if an employee ever gives an answer to a question that doesn't start with, "Well, if you go to our web page." And it didn't matter if it was about financing or the relative fragility of the MacBook Air. Why the hell do you guys have a store in the first place?

2. Ask the girl at the Hollister store if they have any clothes that don't say "Hollister" on them. Chuckle at her response and say, "No, really."

3. Allow your four year old to run into the Versace store with a large, slobbery lollipop. Pause briefly to enjoy the horrorstruck expressions before corralling her.

4. Laugh at the hair on the guy working in the Michael Kors store. His 'do says Good Charlotte, but his crows' feet say Charlotte Rae.

5. Count the number of kids and adults-who-should-know-better wearing South Pole and Aerospatiale clothes. Stop when you reach 1,000.

Balls...Hair Balls

Over on that other blog I'm currently ruining, we're commemorating the impending release of Quantum of Solace by doing a bunch of 007-related Top Five lists, so check Hair Balls throughout the week.

First up: The Top Five Bond Girl Names.

"Octopussy" didn't make the list.

I'll bet he has fanfic that would put Erik Blevins to shame

Nothing says "unpopular Wikipedia entry" like virtually unedited blocks of text. Case in point, the write-up for Mack Bolan:

Mack was put on trial for his extra-judicial activities in book # 91, "The Trial." As well as being in two nuclear explosions, Mack has been knifed numerous times and shot several times in various parts of his body, most recently in his left shoulder. He has been in numerous grenade explosions and several warehouse roofs have come down on his head. He speaks English, Spanish, Russian, and passable German, and can understand countless others. Mack has been in love only once, with April Rose. He holds current lover, Barbara Price, at an arm's length out of fear that she will be killed. No one has ever claimed that Mack does not like women. He prefers the gutsy type who are not apt to run for cover when shot at.

A list of almost 70 authors who've written Bolan-related books follows. I think I have an idea for my next project.

"Are you hugging the TV?"

Math Made Fun...or, How Pete Spent His Sunday Afternoon:

+





=

Now I know what all this high definition fuss is about. I had no idea sounds like that* could come out of my TV.

*The Feral Kid's boomerang lopping off Toady's fingers, for starters.

"No time to debate this in committee!"

Remember arguments?

The Wife and I are watching Across the Universe, last night - "meh" film, basically Hair with a Lennon/McCartney soundtrack, or a really long episode of American Dreams - and got into a discussion about our favorite Beatles albums. Hers is Rubber Soul, meanwhile I hemmed and hawed on mine.

There's one decent disc in The White Album, I offered. But I could find merit in everything from Meet the Beatles to Abbey Road. In fact, I said, the second half of the latter album, which features "Here Comes the Sun" and that medley including "Mean Mr. Mustard," "Golden Slumbers," and "Carry That Weight," is one of my favorite album sides of all time.

The Wife: "What else is on the album?"
Pete:"...Uh, 'Come Together'...'Maxwell's Silver Hammer'...I don't think 'Get Back' was on it, was it?"
TW: "What album is 'Paperback Writer' on?"
Pete: "Uh, maybe A Hard Day's Night?"
TW: "No it wasn't."

And so on. Now, in the old days - say for example my '80s college years - a vigorous debate would've ensued, culminating with a 3 AM trek to our Beatlemaniac friend Mike's dorm room to rouse him from his slumber and settle things once and for all by making him produce the album in question. Last night, as is mostly the case these days, I simply turned on the computer and looked online; Wikipedia, to be specific. We learned two things: that "Get Back" was on Let It Be, and "Paperback Writer" was never released on an original album, though it was featured on several compilations.

I realize that debating such easily determined questions is pretty much a waste of time when the answers to all life's questions can be found on the internets, but it used to be kind of fun. To name two other examples:

1. We had a game during college called, creatively enough, The Movie Game. This was pre-Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, so the rules involved giving someone the name of two actors and having them find the shortest distance movie-wise between them (Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. to Tura Satana, for example). Names would be proffered at breakfast, and solutions discussed at dinner. Needless to say, the arrival of the IMDB rendered that game about as entertaining as cheating on the New York Times crossword puzzle.

2. I spent three weeks suffering the insults of a contingent of UT theater folk who refused to acknowledge the existence of a non-Richard Harris version of Camelot (that would be the official Broadway recording, with Richard Burton as Arthur and Julie Andrews as Guinevere). I had to endure their effete mudslinging for almost an entire month before I could return home to secure my parents' copy of the album. Even then, I had to play them Roddy McDowell singing "The Seven Deadly Virtues" to convince them it wasn't an elaborate sham.

I guess my point is that arguing used to be more fun when not everything could be resolved. Or maybe we're just more efficient now, though I'm not convinced that's a good thing. Now all The Wife and I really argue about is money, and unlike the Movie Game, I never win.

Life is just a fantasy

Can you live this fantasy life?

I've played fantasy sports for a little over 10 years. No great stretch, mind you, but I've tried to make up for my relatively brief tenure by participating in as many sports as possible (and doing barely well enough to justify the expense to The Wife). From NFL and MLB to PGA and World Cup soccer, I've tried just about all of them. Whether it's because I'm easily distracted or due to some pathological need to gamble I leave as an exercise to the reader.

For example, right now I'm in Peenman's Bracket Challenge on CBS SportsLine (thanks a lot, Georgetown and Pittsburgh), a baseball league (more on that later), the Hollywood Stock Exchange (my handle is "pete_vh"), and I've been screwing around some with Fantasy Congress.

Like I said, I've generally done well enough at this that I can still play (mostly) guilt-free. I've never won any of them outright, but have mostly my money back. Mostly.

Except for those goddamned NCAA brackets.

The technology available today on places like ESPN and Yahoo makes me briefly nostalgic for my first fantasy football league, when our commissioner still got stats from the Chronicle sports page and faxed us all our results on Tuesday morning. Before faxes, I guess they phoned everybody (and before that, I imagine you could get the rushing yards for your favorite Racine Cardinals RB via telegraph). Don't get me wrong, career/projected stats at your fingertips and up-to-the-second injury reports are great, but I'm still not convinced leveling the playing field so much that guys like me who - quite honestly - don't follow the games all that closely is a good thing. Unless I win this year, in which case it's a great idea.

Anyway, baseball season started this week, and like the lazy idiots we are, my league is just holding its draft tonight. I'm not sure how we're going to work everything out, but most of us are pretty casual about it. Andit's a keeper league, so I've already got Brandon Webb and Jose Reyes, which helps.

Anybody else? Surely I'm not the only roto dork out there.

UPDATE: Here's my roster...

C: G. Soto, CHC
SS: J. Reyes, NYM
1B: N. Swisher, CHW
2B: C. Utley, PHI
3B: R. Zimmerman, WAS
OF: A. Rios, TOR
OF: C. Hart, MIL
OF: J. Francoeur, ATL
DH: J. Hamilton, TEX
SP: B. Webb, ARI
SP: J. Verlander, DET
SP: J. Vasquez, CHW
SP: J. Maine, NYM
SP: A. Pettite, NYY...I know, I know
RP: B. Jenks, CHW

Wow, that's a lot of Mets.

"He went into a state of torpor."

Two (vaguely) President-related posts in one month? It's like the History Channel up in this bitch:

A decade later, I'm still bitter about the demise of Mr. Show with Bob and David. Many of those involved with the show, especially Tom Kenny, Sarah Silverman, and Jack Black have gone on to greater success in recent years, but the selfish fan in me wishes they were still languishing in the Sunday 1 AM timeslot on HBO, entertaining me with more tales of Titannica and Ronnie Dobbs.

Of the show's two major players, David Cross has fared somewhat better than Bob Odenkirk. appearing in everything from Wonder Showzen to Alvin and the Chipmunks. He also has a fairly successful stand-up career, which should continue to be lucrative as long as the Republicans are in the White House.

Bob has had a tougher time of it, appearing in smaller TV shows and directing the grievously unfortunate Let's Go to Prison. But he's maintained a pretty high level of hilarity on the web (at Bob and David.com), mainly in the form of video subjects like "The Truth About Lincoln:"

I appreciate the fact that Bob knows exactly what sort of thing his fans look for in his comedy, and I like that he doesn't feel the need to write a 1600-word rationalization for continuing to make shitty movies.

And most of all, I want to believe.

"He built an independent treasury..."

She Who Shall Not Be Named acquired two more potential nicknames this weekend (to go along with "La Destructora" and My Justification for Owning Firearms), those being:

Polk: Our wonderful daughter has acquired the occasional tendency to come into our bedroom around 3 AM and enforce her own particular Manifest Destiny on the bed. Last Saturday, she drove The Wife off in her toddler version of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and forced me into my own Oregon Territory. Being married for almost 12 years, I'm well acquainted with occupying the West Coast of a mattress, but SWSNBN adds a new wrinkle by laying laterally upon the bed and jamming her feet into the small of my back. Hail to the Chief.

Zorba: Because she broke two plates this weekend, even without the benefit of ouzo.

So there's that. I also have two new reviews up:

Semi-Pro - **
Penelope - **1/2

That Will Ferrell. Hilarious.

There goes what's left of my faith in print journalism

But seriously, does anyone really listen to the Black Crowes anymore?

The Black Crowes are lashing out at Maxim magazine for reviewing the band's new album - apparently without actually hearing it first.

The review, published in Maxim's March issue, gives the Crowes' "Warpaint" a rating of two-and-a-half stars out of five.

"The writer - who has not heard the album since advance CDs were not made available - wrote what appears to be a disparaging assessment anyway, citing, `it hasn't left Chris Robinson and the gang much room for growth,'" said a statement on the band's official Web site.

The band's manager, Pete Angelus, said the magazine explained that its review was an "educated guess."
[,,,]
A representative for the magazine would not confirm or deny to The Associated Press whether the writer actually listened to the album. Instead, Maxim released this statement in response: "Maxim will continue to provide our readers with information that is important to them, whether it is about fashion, lifestyle, technology, music, movies and more."

Shocked, shocked I am that an august publication such as Maxim, the magazine that until recently employed Quote Whore Extraordinnaire Pete Hammond as their film critic, would fabricate reviews in this fashion. I fully expect Peisner to resign in shame at being caught out like this. You know, just like Mitch Albom did.

Anyway, I actually applied for Hammond's gig when he left the magazine. And by "applied" I mean I sent an e-mail to their contact address to throw my hat in the ring, pointing out that - since my name is also "Pete" - hiring me would lessen reader confusion at the transfer.

Still haven't heard back.

UPDATE:The magazine is now all apologies:

Maxim magazine has apologized for publishing a negative review of the Black Crowes' new album by a writer who hadn't listened to the whole CD.
[...]
Maxim editorial director James Kaminsky responded Tuesday with this statement: "It is Maxim's editorial policy to assign star ratings only to those albums that have been heard in their entirety. Unfortunately, that policy was not followed in the March 2008 issue of our magazine, and we apologize to our readers."

Maxim has "readers?"

Oscar picks. I has them.

This announcement is going out to a bunch of different places, so hopefully everyone interested will have a shot at getting their ass handed to them some good clean fun.

The Academy Awards are this Sunday. In the past The Wife and I have hosted a party for the occasion, replete with food, booze, and a picks contest. The party ain't happening this year, but I still want to have a competition. So I'm asking that everyone interested fill out the form below no later than 5 PM CST, on Sunday, Feb. 24. I'll keep track of the results (your answers will get e-mailed to me), and the winner will get...something.

Will Ruby Dee win Best Supporting Actress for only 3 minutes of screen time? Will Academy voters come to their senses and not give Juno the Best Original Screenplay award? More importantly, can anyone stop HWRNMNBSOL? Fill out all the fields below, click "Submit," and find out. The form worked the two times I tested it, but let me know if you have any problems (it'll take you back to the main APCB page when you're done).

Because I'm sure you have as much free time as I do

Via MetaFilter, I see The Atlantic has opened up its archives:

Beginning today, TheAtlantic.com is dropping its subscriber registration requirement and making the site free to all visitors.

Now, in addition to such offerings as blogs, author dispatches, slideshows, interviews, and videos, readers can also browse issues going back to 1995, along with hundreds of articles dating as far back as 1857, the year The Atlantic was founded.

We're pleased to bring The Atlantic before a broader online audience. We hope that the quality of its writing, the trenchancy of its insights, and the depth and thoughtfulness of its reporting will inspire many of our online readers to join the Atlantic family by becoming print subscribers.

Yeah...let me know how that works out for you.

Some of the stories linked on MeFi's main article include Host, David Foster Wallace's look at right-wing radio; Eric Fast Food Nation Schlosser's The Prison-Industrial Complex. I also hunted up Robert Kaplan's The Coming Anarchy, a favorite of the aimless post-Cold War set during my days in grad school, and Mark Bowden's The Angriest Man in Television, about The Wire creator David Simon.

On APCB, a day without a Wire reference is like a day without bleak, urban sunshine.

Apparently those memories were in the "adults-only" section of the Pensieve

So...it appears Snape was guilty of a hate crime:

In front of a full house of hardcore Potter fans at Carnegie Hall in New York, Rowling, sitting on the stage on a red velvet and carved wood throne, read from her seventh and final book, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," then took questions. One fan asked whether Albus Dumbledore, the head of the famed Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, had ever loved anyone. Rowling smiled. "Dumbledore is gay, actually," replied Rowling as the audience erupted in surprise. She added that, in her mind, Dumbledore had an unrequited love affair with Gellert Grindelwald, Voldemort's predecessor who appears in the seventh book.

Man, I love J.K. Rowling. No sooner has the hype for Deathly Hallows died down when she finds a way to bring the franchise back into the headlines. If this little strategy yields a significant rise in book sales, look for the following revelations in coming weeks:

- Harry had a three-way with Cho and Ginny Weasley
- Minerva McGonagall seduced Ron (you could totally see it coming during the dance scenes in Goblet of Fire)
- Hermione aborted Viktor Krum's baby
- Like a certain other evil overlord, Voldemort is rumored to have only one testicle
- Harry's foot was in the crease when Hogwart's won the Quidditch Cup

Anybody else?

I hate the internet

I'm a big Ryan Adams fan, and "Sweet Illusions" is one of my favorite songs of his. This, however, will teach me to do random searches for his videos:

Level with me: how prevalent is this kind of shit? I usually only check out YouTube for clips from sporting events and Martika Slayer videos, and I don't want to stumble across a montage of Lara Croft and Aya Brea from Parasite Eve set to Warren Zevon's "Mr. Bad Example."

My sense of old man's righteous indignation might not be able to take it.

EDIT: Addressing Scott's comments, I have as much reason to loathe Adams as anybody. I attended a Whiskeytown concert with The Brother-In-Law here in Houston in the late 90s, and it was excruciating. Adams was - shockingly - drunk as a lemur, and he finally tired of insulting the audience and flipping us off and decided to lay down and play feedback on his guitar for 20 minutes.

But he seems a lot more contrite in interviews these days, so I'm willing to cut him some slack. Is he still an asshole? Probably, but in the words of Major Grant, he seems more like my kind of asshole.

"Zeppelin rules!"

A visual representation of the Comedy = [Tragedy + Time] formula:

If only the graphs in my microeconomics course had been as concise.

Putting the "crap" in "crapola"

We leave for Maine on Monday. Thankfully for those of the Houston persuasion, it looks like Dean is heading south of the border. Unfortunately, Jamaica and probably Cozumel (again) are in for some fresh hell. And I wouldn't want to be in Tampico or thereabouts middle of next week.

As always, those living in the H-Town area need look no further than Eric Berger's SciGuy weblog for the latest on any and all tropical shenanigans.

In case you were curious, the forecast for Bar Harbor next week calls for highs in the 60s and lows in the 50s. We'll be thinking of everyone cowering in their air conditioning here while we're sitting on my dad's deck in our sweaters and drinking Bar Harbor Blueberry Ale.

Because it worked for me so well last year, I'll go ahead and say the Cards are done. Chicago's leading the NL Central? Dogs and cats will be living together before you know it.

Is that stupid commercial for NCAA 08 where Matt Leinart pretends he didn't lose to Texas in the Rose Bowl still airing? If so, it's almost as pathetic as his 4-7 starting record with Arizona.

Am I a bad person for owning a DVD copy of Varsity Blues? If so, it belongs to The Wife.

Speaking of movies, The Invasion sucks (review pending). Go see Superbad.

Since I've invoked both FT and the Chronicle in the same entry, I have to say I'm not fully behind the decision by both (pending with FT) to allow people to comment on stories. I have nothing against feedback, specifically, except the people who "contribute" on a regular basis always seem to...I don't know...lack what might be regarded as the most basic grasp of logic and reasoning. Can't wait to hear what "yoda85" thinks of my latest review.

Worst spoiler ever

This, stolen from Carol at Ain't Chicken, gave me the biggest laugh I've had all day:

I know a lot of people are pissed about the Harry Potter spoilers all over the internet so, if you haven't read this bestseller don't look.

Yeah, but it was a relatively minor character, introduced late in the book, that actually killed him. Kind of a cop-out, if you ask me.

Thoughts on finishing the third Harry Potter book...

Man, I like that Sirius Black guy. Hope nothing happens to him.

Avada kedavra, snoogans

I'm seeing reports of alleged Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows spoilers all over the place. Hell, I was on YouTube earlier and someone had posted what I assume was a list of prominent deaths and the pages on which they occur in the comments section. Folks are disabling comments, posting warnings, and contemplating unplugging their computers. It's craziness.

I pre-ordered Deathly Hallows for my dad for Father's Day. We're going to visit him next month. Since I've only read the first two books, my cunning plan, conceived after making the purchase - honest - was that I would read books 3 through 6 in the weeks leading up to our vacation so I could, ah, "borrow" the final volume and check it out. I realize now that I don't have the time for that. I also realize that - although I have yet to run across any actual spoilers - I'm not actively avoiding them.

So here's the deal. If you're one of those pathetic jagoffs so cognitively stunted you have to fuck up everyone else's fun, feel free to post your bullshit here. Now understand that I have to approve every comment, which means I won't allow spoilers to actually appear on the site. However, I can promise I'll read them myself, which should hopefully satisfy whatever obnoxious compulsions you have.

Everyone else, go ahead and chat. I promise not to let anything through that will ruin the fun.

The APCB equivalent of a clip show

While we're all waiting with bated breath to see if Perry signs or vetoes HB 1919, here are some conversational topics to help us bide the time.

+ I missed this when it was announced, but June 13 was apparently Blog Like It's the End of the World day, where participants blog about a fictional zombie apocalypse. It's an interesting twist on a tired concept. I mean, I love zombies more than most folks, but - just by way of example - four of the seven entries in the Horror Shorts program at deadCENTER were zombie-themed. I think people have had enough brains for a while.

+ Speaking of deadCENTER, my recap should be going up on Film Threat tomorrow. I'll run a companion piece here with bigger photos. Here's a sample:

Nothing says haute cuisine like Toby Keith. I was tempted to enter, but a little voice inside my head - faint in aspect, like a little child - said, "If you go into that place, the motor cortex of your brain and I will loosen your sphincter while you sleep. And we've got the basal ganglia on our side."

UPDATE: The story's up. Check it out.

+ Nope...still don't give a shit about Paris Hilton.

+ Even before deadCENTER started, CineVegas was going on. FT is covering the fest, as always. Don was there last week, while Mark is inexplicably staying for whole shebang. CineVegas runs June 6-16, which is about eight days longer than any sane mortal should reasonably be expected to endure Vegas, I wish him luck. And a new liver and lungs.

+ Cavs in seven. Just kidding.

+ This last weekend I learned of a great thing: there will be an Okie Noodling sequel.

"Since this is an emergency, all robots will now have their patriotism circuits activated."

Think about how much more entertaining World War II would've been if the nations involved had abandoned heavy water experimentation in favor of...mechs:

Created by Marco Spitoni with a handful of desktop studio programs and running only 13 minutes, it's still better than Pearl Harbor.

Courtesy of The Thing That Walks Like A Man, who knows that two of the greatest words in the English language, when paired, are "Nazi Robots."

Captain America is dead

Long live Captain America:

He fought and triumphed over Hitler, Tojo, international Communism and a host of supervillains, but he could not dodge a sniper's bullet.

Comic book hero Captain America is dead.

After close to 60 years in print, Marvel Comics has killed off Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, one of its most famous and beloved superheroes amid an already controversial story line, "Civil War," which is pitting the heroes of Marvel's universe against one another.

In the comic series, Rogers was to stand trial for defying a superhero registration law passed after a hero's tragic mistake causes a 9/11-like event.

Steve Rogers eventually surrenders to police. He is later mortally wounded as he climbs the courthouse steps.

Moderate nerdery follows...

Growing up, the three comic books I read with any regularity were Detective Comics, Amazing Spider-Man, and Captain America. I've been through the highs (Miller's depiction in his "Born Again" story, Ultimate Cap beating the shit out of Giant-Man in The Ultimates) and the lows (Arnim Zola, the "Nomad" years). I've even managed, after many years of alcohol abuse, to purge the memories of Rob Liefeld's "re-imagining" from my mind.

After hearing all the hoopty-hoo surrounding the news today, I thought I should point out a few things:

1. Cap has "died" before. At the least, he was "presumed dead" in Captain America #112, an issue illustrated by Jack Kirby after Jim Steranko had taken over writing duties. That turned out - big surprise - to be a fake.

2. Nobody, and I mean nobody, stays dead in comic books. Two characters we were assured would never return from the grave - Bucky (Cap's first sidekick, coincidentally) and Spider-Man's Uncle Ben - have both, in fact, returned.

3. According to the Wikipedia entry (I know, I know), he isn't even dead this time:

In Civil War: The Initiative, Ms. Marvel tells Spider-Woman (Jessica Drew) that Captain America is not dead but "...tucked away safe on the Raft..." with doctors working to save him.

Everyone knows how the Death of Superman turned out, and while I'm not saying Captain America's is as popular as Supes, let's just say I'd be shocked if he stays dead for more than 12 issues.

In the meantime...

They even worked in a "NOOO!" George Lucas would be proud.

My father-in-law hates me

Because he brought this into my home:

Admittedly, he and I aren't exactly on the same side of the political spectrum...and he's ex-military...and he's a rabid Astros fan, but there are some lines you just don't cross.

This...this is my payment for letting him borrow The Sculptress by Minette Walters, The Alienist by Caleb Carr, and Lonesome freaking Dove, among others.

I tried. I read...well, a few pages, anyway. Assassins is full of characters with names like "Dan Powers," "John Houston," and - no shit - National Security Advisor "Jeb Stuart." The plot involves the US government passing an "assassination bill" in response to Islamic terrorists crippling Saudi oil production and murdering the royal family. A special "threat mitigation" unit is formed and sent abroad to whack evildoers, unhindered by a pesky judicial system. More importantly, we get a glimpse at the world Ollie would've like to forge had that lousy Iran-Contra thing not shackled his heroic destiny.

The gloves are off now. I'm lending him Sam Harris' The End of Faith next. And maybe some Naomi Wolf.

Adequate
Forgettable
Occasionally regrettable

I know I've been out of town for a while, but imagine my surprise to return to a world where the late Gerald Ford is being lauded as a great president.

Speaking from his ranch in Crawford, Texas, Mr Bush remembered President Ford as a "gentleman who reflected the best in America's character".

Mr Ford was never elected president but took office after Richard Nixon quit over the Watergate scandal in 1974.

Obviously Bush found some kinship with Ford over one aspect of his presidency.

In a televised address, Mr Bush said Americans "came to know President Ford as a man of complete integrity". Gerald Ford, he said, "came along when we needed him most".

Mr Bush said Mr Ford "stepped into the presidency without ever having sought the office" and helped restore confidence in the White House.

His words were echoed by the Vice-President, Dick Cheney, who was Gerald Ford's Chief-of-Staff.

In a statement, Mr Cheney said that President Ford gave the country the strength, wisdom and good judgement it needed as it faced its greatest constitutional crisis since the civil war.

The culture of hagiography in this country is such that even a "caretaker president" can get lauded like he was the greatest statesman since Benjamin Disraeli. Certainly, he was a competent Congressman and - by all accounts - a decent guy, but come on. He freaking pardoned Nixon and gave people buttons to help combat 7% inflation. To his credit, he survived two assassination attempts and appointed John Paul Stevens to the Supreme Court, even though I'm pretty sure that didn't turn out quite as he'd hoped.

Besides, our national mourning period for James Brown hasn't ended yet.

Uncanny

Courtesy of award-winning filmmaker Don Lewis comes this clip of esteemed thespian Matt Damon presenting his imitation of Matthew McConaughey on The Late Show with David Letterman.

If you've ever heard The McConaughey speak in person, this will be doubly hilarious.

Weekend reading

Out of town this weekend. To tide you over, here are a couple movie reviews:

The Nativity Story - **
Turistas - 1/2*

Reviews for Apocalypto (***1/2) and Blood Diamond (***) should be up Friday.

Subjects not worthy of individual entries

Like most bloggers, I have a constantly rotating list of subjects I could expound upon further, but choose not to. To wit:

1. I have an irrational attraction to the cuckolded wife in the Dairy Queen Jalitos Ranch Hungerbuster commercial. I can't decide if it's the burger itself (doubtful) or the fact that she's a brunette in bed wearing lingerie. Guess Bill Hicks was right.

Though no one will ever replace Clara Peller.

2. Unlike some shows (The X-Files and Lost come to mind), Heroes actually looks like the writers have an idea of where the story's going to go. Ask me again in Season 3.

3. A musical act's lameness can be measured in direct proportion to the number of times they use the word "baby" in their songs. From Amy "Baby Baby" Grant to "Baby" by Ashanti, my theory holds up.

The exception that proves the rule? Led Zeppelin.

4. Dear Gulf Coast Regional Blood Center,

I'm a Commit For Life blood donor, meaning I donate four times a year (or red blood cells twice). Considering I've been doing this for several years, I hardly think it's necessary to e-mail me three times and call me twice the week of each donation. I understand the need to keep supplies up, but I'm more than capable of managing my calendar. Thanks.

5. I hope no thoughtful parents put Re-Animator in their Netflix queue, thinking it's somehow related to Cartoon Network's Re-Animated. Things could get...traumatic.

Especially during the "head" scene.

"Because we're the government. We make the laws, we print the money, and we breed the super-soldiers. So go home, learn to live with it, pay your taxes, and remember: you didn't hear anything about super-soldiers."

I don't have a lot of time for anything gambling-related besides the NFL pick 'em league this year, but I might have to make an exception for this:

To put it simply, create an account, join a league, draft a team of real U.S. Members of Congress and have fun as you compete to score as many points as possible. As the Members of Congress you drafted put real legislation through the lawmaking process they will score points for your team.

Like other sports, Fantasy Congress requires three things: a team, a system of scoring points, and a framework within which players can score. In this game, your team is a group of U.S. National Congress legislators, the legislators score points by pushing bills through the steps to create a law, and the framework within which they play is Congress itself
[…]
At the end of the season, the Citizen with the most points wins. To accrue the highest number of points, use your political savvy to decide which when MCs should be playing and when they should be benched.

This will likely validate my theory that the best way to succeed at fantasy sports is to not have an emotional attachment to it. The most money I've ever made in a fantasy endeavor was an NBA league, because a) I dont like basketball and b) I had no compuction about drafting and/or trading for players with felony assault and attempted murder on their records if they could strengthen my roster.

I have more attachment to the NFL and MLB, and as much as I try to avoid it, I let personal allegiances enter into my decision-making. That's what makes Fantasy Congress so appealing. Considering that the effective members are likely to be the most corrupt and those that have been seated for the longest time, it definitely helps to be able to disassociate yourself from that sensation of utter distaste when adding Don Young or Jim Bunning to your roster.

This also might be one of the few times you miss Tom DeLay.

Smack My Boll Up II

Who interrupts my enjoyment of the Pants Off Dance Off marathon?

Speaking of shoddy movie making, you better watch your back…i hear your old friend uwe boll is on the warpath:

http://news.independent.co.uk/europe/article1757273.ece
--Posted by hudsucker on September 26, 2006 10:51 AM

Facetiously refer to my "old friend" at your peril, hudsucker. After all, I'm the one who came to the good Herr Doktor's defense not too long ago. I never asserted that his movies were anything other than the celluloid embodiment of some ancient Sumerian curse, but he's hardly unique in that regard (*cough* Ratner *cough*).

Anyway, the big payoff to his mildly hyped Critics Challenge finally hit the internet tubes this week. Care to take a look?

Me neither. It's hardly a surprise that Boll - a man who felt BloodRayne didn't get the credit it deserved for giving us Kristianna Loken's boobs and talked about its franchise potential with nary a hint of irony - beat the shit out of these guys. He seriously thinks that pummeling his detractors somehow legitimizes his films, so of course he trained like a beast for this. Now that he can claim victory over the likes of Rich Kyanka and Jeff Sneider, I'm sure some part of him believes Dungeon Siege is safe from criticism.

As for those participants crying foul because Boll insisted on only fighting those with no boxing experience while he himself has an extensive pugilistic backround...it's Uwe Boll, people. He spun the whole thing as a "PR exercise" while secretly plotting to exert some of that unique Teutonic rage on a few of his many detractors. You'd have to be a fucking idiot to think this was anything less than an opportunity for sweet, sweet revenge.

I also have a boat I'd like to give them at my nondescript, city-owned building downtown, if they're interested.

Bitte Hammer, verletzt du sie nicht

Next to last night's screening of Jackass: Number Two (and once again affirming my appreciation of the infantile) this picture - sent to me by another anonymous benefactor - is the funniest thing I've seen in months:

Did I mention it's been a slow couple of months?

Because April Fool's Day doesn't fall on a Tuesday

I've been trying to avoid paying attention to any of the following for the past year, in the belief that doing so will somehow cleanse my subconscious and make me a better human being:

Paris "Echo Chamber" Hilton
The Spawn of Cruise
Britney Spears and/or Kevin Federline
Brangelinaston
Lindsay "Clinical Exhaustion" Lohan

A throwaway reference to Spears/Federline in my Idiocracy review apparently prompted a certain someone to lob me this little news item, for which I have sworn upon the altar of Wotan eternal hostility against them:

The only baby Britney Spears and Kevin Federline are talking about right now is K-Fed's debut album.

Federline will release the rap album "Playing With Fire" on Oct. 31.

He is offering an autographed photo to the first 500 people who preorder it through his online store.

Federline made his national television debut recently on the Teen Choice Awards -- and was slammed with some negative reviews.

Among them was Elliot Wilson of the hip-hop magazine XXL, who said Federline was "a joke, basically."

I am sorely, nay, achingly tempted to order a signed photo for friends and family. A pity funds are so tight.

"The extra 'B' stands for 'BYOBB.'"
"What's that extra 'B' for?"
"That's a typo."

My understanding of Labor Day is that one tends to labor less than usual. I have a history of getting these things wrong, however, which is probably why I spent five hours in brisk early September Houston weather barbecuing ribs for the three of us.

That's one rack, though I couldn't gotten away with two if spending all afternoon fooling around with open flame didn't tend to curb my appetite (She Who Shall Not Be Named and the daughter of some friends of ours almost killed a whole rack on their own about a month ago).

My smoker can handle about eight racks at a time, however. But never mind that, because I just realized I haven't introduced you all to the finished version of Smogdor (previously written about here), a four foot section of schedule 40 steam pipe welded to a 1/4" plate fire box and put together by the occasionally mentioned Sir Not Appearing In This Blog:

Crappy paint job courtesy of yours truly. Rain courtesy of last July 4th, when these pictures were taken.

Side view:

Some minor alterations are needed, including a hole/mount for an enternal thermometer and maybe some more vents in the side of the fire box. The fan you see is necessary to help get primary ignition going. The max temp that I've run it up to, to bake the inside and heat the exterior for painting, was 450. Not that I cook at that temperature, mind.

Finally, an action shot:

I think I had five racks and about a dozen sausages going at that point. I usually wrap the ribs in foil (after liberal application of rub from B&W Meat Co.) and cook them meat down for about 4 hours at 250-275, then add some sauce, open the foil, and let them smoke meat up for another 30 minutes. It takes me anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour to get the fire up to speed.

That and toast are the only two things I actually know how to cook.

All the news that's shite to print

Lots to cover before I jet (okay, Toyota) off to the wilds of Schulenberg this weekend. Let's go to the videotape.

+ My unpleasant two star review of the equally unpleasant Talladega Nights is up at Film Threat. It's the best paid advertising program you've seen since...actually, it still wasn't as good as the pilates one with Daisy Fuentes.

+ Mel Gibson, Mel Gibson, Mel Gibson

It's no surprise that the guy is a barely more palatable version of his whackjob old man, but I stand by the two assertions I made at the time of Riggs' DUI bust:

1. Nobody says things when they're loaded that aren't harbored in the darkest recesses of their hearts. I've been drunk more times than I care to admit, and I've never ranted about Ze Jews.

Ze Canadians, on the other hand...

2. Gibson has mad, Passion of the Christ cash, so why is he driving himself home from a bar? Call a taxi, tell the driver to wait out front, then tip him a hundred. Don't want the story showing up on Page Six? Hire a stretch. Hell, I eat Taco Bell for dinner once a week, and I still take a cab home from Rudyards.

It looks like the blowback has already begun, however:

Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo star Rob Schneider is the first actor to publicly announce he will never work with Mel Gibson due to the anti-Semitic remarks he made when he was arrested last Friday. Schneider took out an ad in Hollywood trade paper Variety slamming the star for his behavior in "An Open Letter to the Hollywood Community." The ad appeared yesterday and said, "I, Rob Schneider, a 1/2 Jew, pledge from this day forth to never work with Mel Gibson-actor-director-producer-and anti-Semite." Schneider then went on to say even if he were offered the lead role in Passion Of The Christ 2 or a "juicy voice-over role in his new flick and spoke ancient Mayan" he would still turn them down.

I applaud Schneider's brave stance, and - speaking as a representative of the movie reviewing community at large - I can only offer my heartfelt gratitude to the man for focusing his rapier wit and mammoth Hollywood superstar influence on someone besides movie critics, who have never fully recovered from that other full-page ad he took out.

+ R.I.P. MTV

Music Television's 25th anniversary came and went last week, conspicuously ignored by the channel itself.

It's understandable, MTV today is unrecognizable to anyone who grew up in the 1980s. We first got cable some six months after it went on the air, and I'm slightly ashamed to admit I spent many hours soaking up countless April Wine and Loverboy videos, and later Headbanger's Ball, 120 Minutes, and Liquid Television. I didn't have cable for most of college (or a TV, half the time), so by the time I started ckecking back in, The Real World - MTV's greatest crime against humanity - had already become a hit. From there, it was a short jaunt to the broadcast joke the channel is today.

One thing I did find was this list of the first 62 videos played on MTV. They sure liked that REO Speedwagon.

+ Whine Me, Dine Me

The only magazine I subscribe to anymore is Entertainment Weekly (I deduct it as a business expense, and reading about all the games I'd never get to play in Electronic Games Monthly got too depressing). I mosty skim it, but occasionally come across gems like this:

Five Things You Should Know About AFI

1. The acronymic band name is short for A Fire Inside - a fitting image for the brooding blackhearts whose epic album decemberunderground recently hit No. 1.

But wait, it gets better.

3. The group's notoriously passionate devotees united to form a 25,000-plus-strong fan club known as the Despair Faction.

As a retired colonel in the KISS Army, I cannot brook the existence of these upstart paramilitaries. First, we weaken their ranks with assaults by our front line of firebreathers and blood spitters, this would soften them for attack by our specially trained savate squadrons (clad in fanged platform boots, naturally). Finally, hand-to-hand combat, where crack troops will stab the insurgent emos to death with their own eyebrow pencils.

Nah, just kidding. In fact, here's a special song dedication for you crazy kids.

The Schrab Four

Two reviews this week. The first is for M. Night Shyamalan's latest, Lady in the Water (1.5 stars). The Wife thinks I got a little personal. If I did, he started it.

The second was for Monster House (4.5 stars). Very enjoyable, and it was written by none other than Dan Harmon and Rob Schrab.

For those not in the know, Harmon and Schrab made a quickly forgotten (at the time) TV pilot called Heat Vision and Jack. Schrab, however, has a pretty extensice (and robot heavy) résumé besides. As I've been a longtime fan of the guy, I thought I'd share it with you.

First, he wrote a criminally underappreciated comic book called Scud: The Disposable Assassin, following a robot killer for hire on his various misadventures.

Then there's his short film called Robot Bastard. I'll let the synopsis on Schrab's page speak for itself:

The President's Daughter has been kidnapped by the brilliant super-criminal Blood Mamba. All rescue attempts have been thwarted by the evil genius. There's only one thing left to do: send in the Robot. The Robot must fight zombie-monsters and insecurity in order to complete his suicidal mission.

He also directed an awesome robot-themed video for Death Cab for Cutie's "Crooked Teeth."

Finally, he had a bit part in My Big Fat Independent Movie. This is probably a less impressive acheivement (and doesn't involve robots), but my affiliation with Film Threat requires that I bring it up.

"I wanna listen to classic rock
And have sex with you"

Reviewed two movies last week. I avoided Little Man, mostly because I wanted to avoid further disillusionment when I realized my (most likely) negative write-up would have no impact on its no doubt impressive box office. Mission accomplished, as it grossed $21 million and I am able to stave off my utter loathing of humanity for one more precious week.

Anyway, A Scanner Darkly got three stars. You, Me and Dupree, one-and-a-half The former was a pretty good PKD adaptation, if not a great film. The latter...well, Kate Hudson's in her underwear a lot.

And on a completely unrelated note, the best song on Sirius right now is "Connecticut's for F*cking" by Jesus H. Christ and the Four Hornsmen.

Bear with me, it's not like I do one of those "random playlist" things every week

I knew I was a YouTube addict when I actually registered in order to collect all my precious discoveries in one place. They range from the wistfully nostalgic (Warren Zevon performing "Splendid Isolation" on Letterman in 1989) to the guiltiest of guilty pleasures ("Flash's Theme" by Queen, complete with super awesome soundbites). From the old ("The Sun Always Shines on TV" - a-ha) to the very old ("Don't Stop Me Now" - Queen again) to the new ("Sing Me Spanish Techno" - New Pornographers), it's an embarrassment of riches. The key word, in my case, being "embarrassment."

To that end, I'll share with you one of my favorite finds. I won't claim it's the weirdest thing out there, far from it, but it definitely ranks as one of the more...esoteric