Witchy Woman...

Haven't posted in a while, and I needed a place to park this bit of brilliance I found on Salon.com

Botox On The Brain...

"Botox: Bad for the brain?" And so goes the teaser for tonight's 11 o'clock news on the local CBS station here in NYC. Looks like there's some concern that injecting poison into your face to stave off aging may not just render your mug immovable -- it may cause a slow down in brain functions. For me, this is hilarious because I have an intense aversion to the botox phenomenon. Every time I go out to L.A., I'm shocked at how many women have faces that look extraterrestrial, as if Santa Monica had been invaded by female cat people from a far-flung galactic outpost a hundred billion clicks past Alpha Centuari. You can barely discern porn stars from the Angelina Jolie-wannabes if you find yourself caught at the Grove or the Third Street Promenade or anywhere along Abbot-Kinney. My disdain for these fish-like faces prompted one friend to unload on me: "Why do you care so much?" But I'm not a fan of apathy, partially because apathy kills. I'm also interested in seeing a woman age gracefully (or, hell, come into her own gracefully) and not morph into something that I couldn't possibly look without being utterly disturbed. If a woman wants a bit of a nip here and a tuck there, fine, but to a point. Once they get heavy into the plastic and the botulinum, they unwittingly plunge themselves headlong into a world of ridicule.

Newsweek has an article on the subject, and Sunday's Los Angeles Times asks "Are we supposed to pretend we don't notice?"

Turning Apple Into Cider. Really Sour Cider.

Here's a bit of discourse that damn near rises to the level of sacrilege. Esquire.com contributor Scott Stein makes a five-point case for why Apple's computers are not superior to your standard PC. I'm an avid Mac user, one who would not for one moment willingly purchase a PC. That said, Stein does make some good points. Bastard.

SNL Finds Its Obama, Half-Asses It With the Makeup

For all the hype around the return of Saturday Night Live and the realization that the cast has, since its inception, pretty much been populated by the whitest kids u know (pun intended, like Tina Fey's "Bitch is the new Black" double entendre on Weekend Update), the much ballyhooed Who Will Play Barack Obama dilemma came to a close with a hilarious premise of a sketch, but a not so brilliant portrayal of the Illinois Senator by funnyman Fred Armisen (facial expression, yes; vocal cadence, not so much). I don't particularly care that a black actor didn't play the part; Barack Obama is, after all, half-white, and Armisen is of mixed ethnic heritage. What I found disturbing was that the makeup artists only covered Armisen's face. Not the ears, and certainly not the hands (which got the particulars of Obama's hand gestures wrong, by the way). Not sure if this was supposed to be part of the joke. The Kristen Wiig reaction shot halfway through is priceless, however, as is the idea of the press being "totally in the bag" for Obama. Here's an excerpt:



A few tweaks here and there for Armisen, and he has a winner on his hands (like his Prince impersonation). As for the makeup artists, they would do well to stock up on the bronzer.

Live Blogging Jimmy Kimmel's Video Response to Sarah Silverman's Brilliant Viral Vid

Let me preface this with the sheer fact that this is the most love I will ever give Jimmy Kimmel, as long as the Earth remains in rotation. I'm Fucking Ben Affleck is laugh out loud funny. It is, hands down, the funniest comedic bit Jimmy Kimmel has ever done. It is, hands down, the funniest comedic bit Jimmy Kimmel will ever do. What makes it funny isn't the blatant cribbing from his girlfriend's genius Dear John (or, Jimmy) video from three weeks prior; it's the sheer number of celebrities within. First, Brad Pitt shows up as a FedEx delivery man with a cake in a box. Then, it morphs into a "We Are the World" re-enactment that was so full of stars, it looked like overflow from a post-Oscars bash thrown by Graydon Carter. Joan Jett. Huey Lewis. That Hobbit from Lord of the Rings who also plays a character on Lost. Members from Fall Out Boy and Good Charlotte chiming in. Macy Gray. Don Cheadle. Freaking Harrison Ford. And Robin Williams with a disturbingly suggestive splash of water to his face. Oh, yeah... and McLovin. Never mind the digitally-obscured sign language from Cameron Diaz; that Josh Grobin moment was hilarious, and Josh Grobin generally rises to the level universal suckiness on the order of Kenny G and Michael Bolton.



A funny little moment, indeed. Just wish Kimmel wouldn't have had Ben Affleck on immediately afterwards to recap how ingeniously funny they thought they were.

Good Lord, Purveyor... Hate much?

Sea Spiders: Six Degrees of Grossification

Australian scientists have discovered what seems to be a couple of new, gelatinous species at the bottom of the ocean off Antarctica. These sea spiders are frightening to me on a number of levels:

1) Despite my affinity for Spider-Man as a superhero and movie franchise, I'm an arachniphobe. Spiders are gross.

2) I don't trust any creature that is literally transparent, because that's just gross.

3) The fluid manner in which these things waft through the deep blue sea is beautiful, yet deceptive, because they are spiders and, therefore, gross.

4) Looking at them makes me think of phlegm. In fact, there's now phlegmy goo developing in my throat as I write this. Phlegm is nothing if not gross.

5) What in the frack are those transparent, bulbous stalk-like things rising out of the sea floor? Did a school of kiddie crustaceans have a birthday party where a stingray dressed as a clown blew up a bunch of those silly twisty balloons? Cuz that shit's freaking gross.

6) I'm nauseous, and nausea is gross.

Read all about it here.

Creative Wood Piercing...

The FX network has a great stable of original programming, from Nip/Tuck (the current season of which is frighteningly awesome) to the brilliant Damages. I've been seeing promos for the Courteney Cox drama Dirt, which launches its second season on March 2nd. While I only watched the first two episodes last season, the promos for this new season are crafty (rotoscope animation meets Roy Lichtenstein artwork), and the song used within is catchy as hell. I did some webernet surfing to figure out the band behind the infectious tune: Peaches is the band; The Boys Wanna Be Her is the song. I stumbled upon their video on YouTube and I've embedded it here for your viewing pleasure. This one gives a whole new meaning to the phrase There Will Be Blood, while introducing what can only be described as "creative wood piercing". Enjoy.

"Hey, Kimmel! How Do You Like Them Apples?"

There have been some great pop culture moments (comedy category) so far in 2008. The return of "A" Daily Show and The Colbert Report. Dave & Conan's strike beards. The emergence of that odd Tom Cruise Scientology video, and the subsequent spoof by Jerry O'Connell. But this will reign as the #1 Pop Culture Moment of 2008 for the foreseeable future.

Somewhere, John Madden Weeps, Silently...

The New York Giants are going to the Super Bowl. They beat the Green Bay Packers in the NFC Championship game, 23-20, in overtime. Being a die hard Chicago Bears fan, it was hard for me to seriously root for the Packers, despite Brett Favre's incredible record-breaking season. And while I've been in NYC for coming up on 10 years, I have yet to become a full-on card carrying member of the fan base of any of the local teams. At this point in the season -- since Chicago's tragic implosion this year essentially renders last year's wild success as all but a fluke -- I'm just happy to see a close, interesting game. Brett Favre's season is the stuff great sports stories are made of: he was set to retire after a punishing season last year... came back this year to break all sorts of records... leads a newbie team to a 13-3 season and takes them on that post-season journey towards the Super Bowl. But when you look at what the Giants, and particularly Eli Manning have gone through this year -- getting thrashed on-air by former teammate turned Today Show mangirl Tiki Barber; the sports press lamenting that he doesn't have the chops to be a champion QB, etc., etc. -- you'd have a hard time scripting a better story about resilience, self-confidence, and teamwork. Pretty freaking inspirational. All apologies to John Madden, who has the most bizarre Brett Favre fetish this side of the Farrelly Brothers. The Giants are going to the Show. Congratulations.

Bacon, Jim Gaffigan Style.

Jim Gaffigan is one of the funniest comedians out there today. A few years ago, I saw him on Comedy Central doing a bit about Hot Pockets which had me crying. Tonight, I caught him on Letterman doing a bit about bacon. Five full minutes about bacon. Nothing lewd or remotely blue, it was pure clean comedic brilliance -- the stuff that makes Bill Cosby and Larry Miller and Jerry Seinfeld legendary. Don't get me wrong -- I love dark, harsh, profanity-infused comedy as much as the next guy. But when you can craft a piss-your-pants funny routine out of something as simple and ubiquitous as bacon, that's talent, pure and unmitigated.

I cribbed this off of YouTube, and once the Late Show with David Letterman site posts tonight's performance, I'll toss it up here as a replacement (not sure if they let people embed clips). Enjoy.

The Story of Stuff

I'm going to admit it. I've never been a tree hugger. I'm not going to sit here and pretend to be an environmentalist. When I read the book Jurassic Park for the first time as a teenager, the one thing that resonated with me was a monologue from chaos theorist Ian Malcolm which was rooted in the idea that the human race is what needs saving and not the planet, per se. To think that we could destroy this massive orb by way of our collective idiocy with regards to consumption of natural resources is the height of arrogance in Dr. Malcolm's brilliant assessment. Maybe it resonated with me because I've always been a bit of a contrarian, and finally here was something that spoke to what I believed in.

I haven't gone green, and I couldn't tell you about the scope of my carbon footprint. I leave shit turned on all the time (my laptop, for instance). I don't use the right kind of lightbulb. I do my best to recycle, but I sometimes forget to separate the aluminum cans from the pizza boxes and newspapers. Not to say I'm some SUV driving neanderthal who thinks Al Gore is a commie for having a passion and a cause. While I thought An Inconvenient Truth was a good film, it's not saying much different than what he said almost a generation ago when he wrote Earth in the Balance. Some people think they've stumbled onto something new and innovative but never realize that this has been Al Gore's rallying cry for the majority of his career. Whatever.

Having said all this, every now and then, something comes along and serves as an eye-opener; something that is well thought out and executed to the point where you have no choice but to stamp it with the label of "brilliant". The Story of Stuff is one such eye-opener. It's a great web-based interactive short that demonstrates just how absurd our mass consumption has become. For anyone who has any doubt as to whether we're clogging up this planet to our own detriment, this short film is definitely thought provoking. It may be the most important 20 minutes you'll spend online this year, or, at the very least, the most informative. Bravo to the creators of this work. I'm sold.

Embracing the Fanboy Within

Good Lord. Here I am, a grown man, and I've been totally immersed in all things The Dark Knight since this past weekend. Batman is my absolute all-time favorite superhero -- specifically because his power consists of his sheer will and fortitude, coupled with deft ninja and detective abilities. Batman Begins has to be the greatest superhero movie ever made, partly because it's dark, rooted in reality, and epic in a manner the previous iterations could not quite incorporate. I went to see I Am Legend today on an IMAX screen, and my primary purpose in doing so was to see the impossibly awesome six minute preview of The Dark Knight. Now I'm in the middle of reading a shot-by-shot analysis of the film's trailer and it struck me that I am a complete and total Batman fanboy. It's a little embarrassing that at this moment I'm more concerned about the 7 month wait 'til July 2008 than I am about the state of the world. Maybe it's good to have a distraction that isn't 80-proof or wrapped tight inside Zig-Zag rolling papers.

I Am Legend is a good film, by the way, better than expected. Will Smith is pitch perfect in it, despite the gratuitous, ego-driven 20-second master shot of him doing pullups in his townhouse, sans shirt. Some might think it's the director's way of showing how he maintains that sort of Adonis-like physique while living off of veggies and canned foods in an imagined NYC futureworld. Methinks, however, it was strictly for the ladies who were dragged to the movie by their husbands and boyfriends.

But I digress. Back to The Dark Knight. Freaking love, love, love the trailer, and I'm not at all bothered by a new take on the Joker (Jack Nicholson was too good in the 1989 film, but Heath Ledger's variation looks to be 10-times darker and more realistic), and I love that they've kept virtually the entire cast intact (a testament to the filmmakers not making a steaming pile of Joel Schumacher-grade horseshit). This movie could seriously be the best sequel since The Empire Strikes Back.

It's Become Bad. Real Bad.

The tail end of any given year brings forth a barrage of Best of and Top Ten lists. Each of these lists are, for the most part, subjective in their content. The most recent list that I stumbled upon (literally, after a night of maybe one too many beers) spaeks volumes about the sorry state of our popular culture.

Just try holding your puke back for this one, kids...

It's Only Brilliant Because It's Clooney...

George Clooney is known about Hollywood as one of its premier practical jokers. This little ditty I found on the Webernet(s) had me laughing out loud, though I think it's only funny because of who is in it.

Couric Behind the Scenes: The Irony is So Thick, You Might Mistake It for Sputum

Found this little ditty online just moments ago and had to post it. This segment is rife with irony -- if you can bear to watch the whole thing, you'll see what I'm saying. Katie Couric, broadcasting CBS Evening News recently from Nashville, has some behind the scenes fun with her production crew, at the expense of her predecessor Dan Rather. While prepping for the broadcast, Couric makes fun of Rather's one-time trench coat primping, a moment that apparently made its way to the same Harry Shearer page on the MyDamnChannel website. "This tart is ready to go," she jokes, after futzing around with her overcoat, asking colleagues whether she should keep the collar up or down, the jacket opened or closed and then asks, "Don't you think he deserves a little payback?"

The annoyances abound throughout. She calls her cameraman "bro". She ribs her executive producer for leaving the office after the first segment. She still thinks Uggs are fashionable. And the subtle hilarity begins halfway through the clip, where the news anchor begins to seriously mess around with the button of her jacket, effectively rendering her Rather-ribbing ironic. Perhaps the big takeaway from this is that someone, either in the field or back in the West 57th Street control room in NYC, found this good enough to send around virally to send a message to the newswoman.

To be clear, this sort of banter is not unusual pre-broadcast, and is really no one's business but the news staffers... until you step close to the line of dissing public figures. Rather obviously has a couple friends remaining within CBS Evening News, and Couric, it seems, has some enemies. Why else would we see this on the web?

The Perfectly Slender Pulchritude of Senator Barack Obama

On the heels another cloyingly annoying CNN debate featuring Democratic presidential hopefuls -- where Wolf Blitzer cut off candidate responses more often than he asked relevant questions; where John Roberts threw around enough empty media-spawned phraseology it looked like he belonged on the editorial staff of a celebrity weekly; where Campbell Brown offered up an image of every American parent "riffling through their kid's toy boxes" in an effort to weed out lead-infused, Chinese-made Dora the Explorer dolls; where it was more campaign bukkake all over Senator Hillary Clinton -- The New York Times today has released an interactive guide that showcases "the gifts and deficits" of candidates of both parties.

The guide, titled "Candidates in a Box: Tabular Estimate of the 2008 Presidential Hopefuls", is based on an 1823 article from a British publication known as The Monthly Magazine, where an anonymous journalist rated members of the House of Commons. For this 21st Century Americanized version, Times columnist David Brooks and author Ben Schott break down each candidate's intellectual capacity, external appearance, and effect, and provide an assessment of each person's temperament and character. Some highlights:

Barack Obama: His "considerable" resources and "promising" judgement may be done in by his "overly complex" logic. Yet, his "comforting" voice and "literary" language seem just right for his "perfectly slender" pulchritude. Alas, his temperament is "grumpy when tired", and his character is one that is "afraid of conflict".

Fred Thompson: "God-like" voice, "surprisingly dull" language, "mountainous" pulchritude. A "man's man" of "nebulous" character.

Rudy Giuliani: "Pattonesque" judgement, with "street-corneresque" language and a "smug" demeanor, this "steely" character has a "strong but disturbing" temperament.

Hillary Clinton: The Senator's "Pant-suited" pulchritude and "business-like" demeanor have an "every knee must bow" effect on the American populace. Her "shrewd" logic, "great" resources and "cheery but untrusting" temperament amount to a "hidden" character.

John Edwards: A "cute" and "ambitious" "golden boy".

Dennis Kucinich: This "miniscule" "know-it-all" is "charmingly marginal". (Yeah, but everyone wants to nail his wife).

Mitt Romney: This "mannequin" possesses "malleable" logic and a "Leave it to Beaver" language.

Natalie Portman Will Kick Your Ass (While You Suck It)

This SNL Digital Short from a couple of years ago is as good as Dick in a Box or Lazy Sunday. It rounds out a nice litte troika of classic SNL moments that are as good as anything the show has ever come up with since 1975, which, I'm listing here, in no particular order (and likely without official titles):
--Anything Blues Brothers
--Belushi's Samuri
--The Billy Goat Tavern sketches
--Landshark
--Mr. Robinson's Neighborhood
--Shmitty's Gay Beer Commercial
--"You'll be living in a van down by the river!"
--Ebony & Ivory (Murphy & Piscopo as Wonder & McCartney)
--"Buckwheat Is Dead", plus anything Buckwheat
--Fuck it, any sketch Eddie Murphy was ever in
--McLaughlin Group sketch w/ Billy Idol (Sting), Sinead O'Connor, Steve Lawrence/Edie Gorme...
--Debbie Downer
--"It's pronounced, "Az-weep-ay"
--"Jane, you ignorant slut"
--Chevy Chase & Richard Pryor doing word association
--Dan Akroyd as Nixon, Chevy Chase as a bumbling Gerald Ford
--"Too Hot in the Hottub"
Christ, the list could go on forever...

Should I Bite My Tongue Re: Tyra Banks?

"You need to learn to pick your spots." That's what one of my older brothers used to tell me when I was growing up. I was cultivating my bullshit meter back then, and I'd always be speaking out, speaking up, and calling motherfuckers on the carpet for being liars, fakers, dickheads, poseurs, what have you. This, when I was 16. Flash forward a generation, and here I am, taking heed of those wise words for the sake of this blog that maybe one person might happen upon accidentally while clicking the "Next Blog" tab -- you probably stopped here because it isn't written in Portugese, and I'm not trying to sell you cock extension pills or nasty slut webcam dates. But I digress.

I have an issue with Tyra Banks and it pains me, because I used to love her. She, to me, embodied all that was excellent about the Victoria Secret catalogue. She, to me, made the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue legendary (yeah, Kathy Ireland made it so as well, but Tyra took it to heights unseen). When I moved to NYC nine years ago, I had only two real goals in mind: live in a loft in Tribeca... and date Tyra Banks. Neither has come to fruition, but I only feel like half a failure, because, damnit, that Tyra Banks is one of the worst case scenarios littering the wasteland that is American popular culture.

So I threw that out there, and you're probably wondering what I mean by that -- the idea of Tyra being a worst case scenario. And therein lies the dilemma. Should I run with this? Lambaste the Bizanks six ways til Sunday and call her out for the hacktacular mess that she is? Would it be a case of 'airing dirty laundry'? Is there a way to deconstruct Tyra Banks, the brand, without thrashing Tyra Banks, the woman? Would it ruin my chances of ever getting in her pants?

...to be continued... (wish i could write that in the Heroes font).

Yahoo! Movies Debuts Valkyrie Trailer

I just watched the exclusive trailer for next summer's Tom Cruise vehicle Valkyrie, the much hyped, semi-controversial (in that the Germans initially balked at his filming in the country on account of his religion) film about the Nazi who said "fuck it" and sought to bring down Hitler.

The film looks pretty good, but it has one glaring bad spot: Tom Cruise sounds more like Lt. Daniel Kaffee than Col. Claus von Stauffenberg. He plays the German guy with an American accent. I'm all about suspending disbelief once I enter a movie theatre (e.g., I squelched my vomitus during Transformers when the old, 70s-era Camaro inexplicably morphed into the new fangled '07 muscle Camaro), but I expect a little more from Cruise. The guy gets paid like a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, but can't find the time to perfect a credible German accent? You'd think the Celebrity Centre might hire a dialect coach and send him or her off to Deutschland for the duration of the shoot. I mean, what gives? I'm hoping that they might have overdubbed his voice in his normal accent for the sake of the trailers and the movie will actually have him speaking like he's a German. If this is how he actually will speak throughout the film, his performance will be an afterthought come awards season. (Now watch him win a Globe and pick up a Best Actor nod).

My Throat Clearing Neighbor

I have this neighbor, or friend of a neighbor, who seems to have aspergers of the throat. Every time I hear a particular door across the hall close, it's followed by cloddish footsteps and consant throat clearing -- throat clearing to the point of annoyance. *Ahem*... *Ahem*... *Ahem*...

It's an odd affliction. Maybe he's a musical theater-type who recently had some esophageal nodes removed in order to reach higher octaves and he's still recovering. Maybe he's got a cat in his apartment -- a hairy, always-shedding cat -- who creeps around his bowl of Cheerios every morning, and then sheds hair into the milky bowl and those hairs invariably end up in the guy's throat. Maybe it's a pubic hair, a la Curb Your Enthusiasm, freshly lodged in his throat by way of his girlfriend's hirsute nether regions. Whenever I hear the guy, I have visions of a former co-worker, a socially awkward fellow, who sat on the other side of my cubicle. He was afflicted by the same sort of audible incontinence -- constant *ahems*, fart spurts, clicks and clucks -- that simultaneously amused and disgusted me to the point of dry heaving.

I'm curious as to what this guy looks like. In my prejudicial mind, he's got a shaggy beard, bad skin, and wears a black hoodie; he plays Halo multiplayer and is quick to call people "noobs" when they kill him with 'nades instead of with bullets. He's temperamental, like that asshole comic book store clerk on The Simpsons, and can make sad, sad casseroles with green beans and cream cheese and bags of Fritos. He smells musty, like a wool sweater coming out of a sudden rain storm. He breathes heavy. He'll stand over your shoulder while you're doing something with the Photoshop, invading your personal space and assaulting your senses with Frito casserole breath to the point where your eyes water.

Christ, I'm such an asshole. He's probably a fireman or a guy on leave from the Peace Corps or a teacher, or someone who does something that really matters for a living.

I shouldn't be making fun. I'm not, really, and I don't want to be disparaging of those suffering from asperger's diseases. I just wonder, and when I wonder, my mind goes wild.