Fragment: Minute-by-minute at the 2008 Emmys Ceremony

For the sake of posterity, or something, here is the fragment of my Emmys recap that survived Blogger's massive fuck-up last night.

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Hello and welcome to the most irrelevant and untimely "liveblogging" of any event ever! Or, as Richard Marcej suggests I call this recap of an event three days past, "TiVoblogging." Enjoy.

7:00 -- The show begins with a taped bit in which contemporary TV stars recite classic TV catchphrases. It's dreadful (except possibly for the bit with the two Baldwins -- Alec: "Mom always did like you best." William: "She also liked Daniel and Stephen better than you"). I open my first beer, despite the fact that I'm actually on lunch break from work right now. Hey, some traditions you don't fuck with.

Also, I realize my DVR, which is not technically a TiVo, doesn't have a timestamp on recordings like TiVo does, so I can't go strictly minute-by-minute as I prefer to do. Aside from noting the show's 7:00 start time, all my other gems will simply be bullet points. Sad.

--Oprah Winfrey opens the live ceremony. Her forehead is nearly as huge as her cleavage. She is tremendously aristocratic in her delivery, as well as self-congratulatory, both specifically of her own program (and its ability to influence book sales) and of TV in general. Why do people like her?

--She introduces the five (!) hosts for the evening, the five nominees for Outstanding Host for Reality or Reality Competition Programming: Tom Bergeron, Heidi Klum, Howie Mandel, Jeff Probst, and Ryan Seacrest. Ugh.

--Seacrest is instant death. Mandel, ad-libbing on the significance of the Emmys' nod to reality programming, is even worse, and Probst is visibly, amusingly, genuinely upset with him for interrupting. All the hosts wear matching suits and ties, even Klum (who is stunning), who towers above all four men. Only Probst is tieless, oddly.

--While Probst, Mandel, and Seacrest all try to hog the spotlight, talking over one another in obnoxious fashion, Bergeron and Klum appear to be equally mortified. They even appear to share a moment: just as the camera cuts away from the five-shot, I see Bergeron leaning in toward Klum, possibly to say, "Can you believe these pricks?" I imagine Klum might respond: "I am maybe the most attractive woman on the planet -- top five, easy. My beauty elevates me above this. There is no reason I should have to tolerate these hammy turds."

--They riff for an infinity on how they have nothing written. Bergeron now appears openly hostile, which is possibly an act, possibly not. The three hams finally exit, leaving Bergeron and Klum on damage control.

--William Shatner gets called up from the audience in one of the weirdest, most awkward staged bits ever: Bergeron and Shatner yank off Klum's suit, revealing a sparkly hot pants number underneath. I mean, I'm all for more skin from Heidi Klum, but this is creeping me out. Every single second of this ceremony thus far has been agonizingly awful.

--Tina Fey and Amy Poehler! Thank fucking god.

--Fey to a very pregnant Poehler: "When are you due?" Poehler: "How dare you! I've gained weight for a role."

--Supporting Actor in a Comedy goes to Jeremy Piven, again. Three in a row, Emmys? I mean, I like him, but come on. At least Rainn Wilson and Neil Patrick Harris were nominated; perhaps next year, when people begin realizing how done Entourage is, one of them will get the win they deserve.

--Piven rips on the hosts: "What if I just kept talking, for 12 minutes? That was the opening."

--Beer #2. Hey, at least I'm off work now.

--Bergeron and Seacrest are sitting in a replica of Seinfeld's cafe set. Perhaps they think if they pretend to be part of a great show, we will stop noticing how bad this show is. They are wrong.

--I still stand by my assertion that Julia Louis-Dreyfus is getting more lovely as she ages. Too bad the patter written for her here is so terrible. She presents Supporting Actress in a Comedy to Jean Smart, for Designing Women. Well, at least I imagine that's why she won, because it can't be for her weak-ass role on Samantha Who.

--Smart, on Samantha Who: "The most amazing, brilliant, hilarious cast in the world." Hyperbole at the Emmys? Never!

--People Smart thanks before her family: Christina Applegate, the cast, the producers, the writers, the executives at ABC, her show's cushy timeslot, her agency, her agent, her publicity firm, her publicist.

--After a brief moment of silence, Probst interrupts Klum just as she begins to speak to tell her it's her turn to speak. Klum, cuttingly: "Yeah, thanks."

--They introduce the cast of Desperate Housewives who appear on a Housewives set. Dana Delany -- man, she is still smokin' hot. Jeez, something happened to Marcia Clark, though. Yikes.

--Supporting Actor in a Drama goes to Ted Danson. I wrote that before they announced the winner. Looks like I was wrong. Zeljko Ivanek, Danson's castmate on Damages, actually wins, and gets the dubious honor of hearing his name massacred by Delany. I'm amazed he's never even been nominated before; he's very good. Too bad he won't be in the next season.

--Ricky Gervais! Man, he is so effortlessly charming and funny, it makes the reality show hosts look even more humor-free and inept, if that's possible.

--Speaking of his Emmy win in 2007: "The press called it a major upset. Which means they thought I shouldn't have won." This precedes a very funny routine in which he tries to get Steve Carell, who had accepted the award for him, to give it back. Carell eventually pulls an Emmy out from under his seat and reluctantly surrenders it. Awesome.

--Directing for a Variety, Music or Comedy Program goes to the guy who directed the Oscars, which it seems like always happens. Yawn. I didn't do my picks this year, so there's really no reason to go through every single award, keeping track of my record, is there?

--Conan O'Brien appears, weirdly, on a set for The Simpsons, rather than his own program. I mean, he appeared in an episode, and of course started out as a writer for the show, but it still seems kind of like a slight to Late Night, which he's been doing for 15 damn years already.

--Supporting Actress in a Drama goes to Dianne Wiest, for a show nobody I know has ever watched. At least she's not present, so we're spared one speech.

--The clips for the nominees for Writing for a Variety, Music or Comedy Program are always among the funniest bits at the Emmys, since they are created by the writers of the nominated programs. The Colbert Report writers are depicted enjoying a Christmas party, with Colbert as the shotgun-wielding, boxers-clad hillbilly who chases them out of his cabin. The Daily Show group uses clips of bozos in the audiences of the two big political conventions to represent themselves. The Late Night writers are children adopted by Angelina Jolie and Conan O'Brien. Dr. Phil diagnoses the Late Show staff: "Jeremy Weiner: enabler. Joe Grossman: delusional. Bill Sheft: messed up." And of course, David Letterman: "miserable old psychopathic wack-job." And the SNL writers use Wii Miis, which is pretty lame. The Colbert Report wins, which is sweet.

--Mandel is back. Ugh. He and Probst introduce the accountants, which is death. Steve Martin follows, which is quite a jarring contrast.

--Speaking of The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, Martin calls it "perspicacious, multifarious, and only sometimes placatory. And believe me, I only use those words to see how closed captioning will spell them." My closed captioning doesn't even attempt perspicacious, but the other two come out as "multifair yus" and "placetory."

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And that's it! Approximately two-and-a-half, three hours of Emmys watching and recapping after that: gone, baby, gone. Oh well, at least 30 Rock won a ton of Emmys. Although even that didn't stop Tina Fey from desperately imploring the audience to tune in. And the sad thing is, they mostly still won't watch the funniest comedy on TV. Stupid audience!

FUCK YOU BLOGGER

A Blogger glitch just deleted my Emmy recap post, which I had spent literally four hours on. And yes, I had recently saved it. Still didn't help. Poof, gone!

As you might imagine, I am so fucking mad I wish every employee of Blogger had one neck and my hands were tightly wrapped around it.

It was a good fucking post, too. You would've enjoyed it. God fuckity fuck fuck damn it.

I'm going to bed.

TV: Smallville

A couple thoughts about this week's Smallville. Definite spoilers ahead -- this means, you, Mike! -- so I'll put some filler space in with this picture of all the Smallville babes.



Wasn't that nice?*

Okay, spoilers:

Chloe lost her virginity -- to Jimmy Olsen??? What the fuck! That's quite a bombshell. And quite a plot contrivance. I mean, if this episode weren't all about givin' it up (complete with teen pregnancy PSA at the end), do you think Chloe's little character development still would've happened? I doubt it.

And what was up with Ma Kent's freak-out? "I'm so disappointed," "sanctity of marriage," "you should know better," blah blah blah. Bitch, chill! Red kryptonite, remember? Red kryptonite! What are you, new? It was completely out of Clark's control. Alicia dosed him with red kryptonite and for all intents and purposes kidnapped him. And yet Ma Kent still berates Clark for it. But clearly, the message wasn't intended for Clark's ears. She might as well have turned directly to the camera and delivered that speech to the home audience. This episode was one big mixed message: "Look at how hot and sexy all these youngsters are. Are you getting horny? Are you? Yes? BAD! WRONG! DON'T DO IT!!!"

And was there supposed to be a political message in Ma Kent's "sanctity of marriage" rant? That's a loaded phrase to use, these days; it's pretty much interchangeable with "I hate gay people." Is that really the message Smallville is trying to convey? If so, that's very disappointing. And also, does that mean Clark and Lex can never consummate their love?

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*Is that picture too big? Does it mess up my site on your browser, and squeeze the sidebar to the bottom of the screen, below all the entries? It's hard to get pictures to fit properly in this template. I'd change templates, but I'm afraid I'd just mess everything up even worse. Does anyone have any ideas how I can fix it so I can show any size pictures on a Blogger template, without losing all my sidebar links, comments, etc.?

Bloggin' about bloggin'

I need to update my links list. But it's so damn tedious.

Firstly, I need to create a sub-category, as Mike has done, for the Associated Comics and Pop Culture Webloggers of Ventura County, CA and Outlying Environs (aka Dudes I Know in Real Life), which include Dorian, Corey, and Ian.

Speaking of Ian, his entries about his experiences at the SD Comic Con have been linked to by Mark Evanier's News from me and Heidi MacDonald's The Beat, which is pretty frickin' cool. I'm so jealous. Not only does he make the Con pilgrimage, but he's also getting linked all over the place for it. (Not as jealous of the links as Mike was [insert smiley face here], because I've actually had the distinction of being name-checked in Mark Evanier's blog, too, back before I had a blog to link to. If you click that link, I'm the only Tom mentioned on the page... and yes, that's my real last name. No jokes, damn your eyes!)

I also have to note which of my blog links are represented on the Comic Weblog Updates page, and which are not. I've been neglecting visiting those blogs which don't appear on the Update page, and that's just wrong.

Also also, I must take up Milo George's generous offer of amnesty from SquirrelNation (even though I think my position as Pope of the Holy Squirrel Empire may trump his secular rank of General), and add The Unofficial John Westmoreland Memorial Tribute Webring to my links, while I still can.

If only Blogger had an easier method of adding links than having to alter the template for my entire blog. Frankly, it's more trouble for me to change the links than it is for me to just bitch about it like this.

New comments

I just added the HaloScan comment system to the blog, because I hated Blogger's comment system. Hopefully, I did it right.

My apologies to everyone who commented under the old system. Probably there is a way to have kept those comments from disappearing, but I'm neither computer savvy enough nor patient enough to figure it out. Maybe I'll cut and paste them from gmail, where all the comment updates have been saved.

COMICS: Wed. 7/14/04

I just spent over an hour on a comics post that just got obliterated because Blogger's "improvements" to their post creation form are buggy as hell and suck copious amounts of ass. I even right-clicked and saved the text as a precaution: the crash still erased it all. Blogger is a severely shitty site.

GOD DAMN IT!!!

I'm so furious I can't even attempt to recreate the post now. I'm done. Here, here's my frickin' update: Street Angel is awesome, The Punisher and Superman/Batman need to finish their tedious current storylines right now, the finish of the Wooden Soldiers story in Fables was surprisingly disappointing, Chaykin's Bite Club is just okay, while his Challengers of the Unknown is excellent, visually exciting with a compelling story, though the characters are all underdeveloped so far, and The Pulse was typical Bendis, meaning the story is padded beyond belief, but I still liked it, the dialogue, and the characters.

And I haven't yet read She-Hulk, Robert Kirkman's debut on Captain America, Scurvy Dogs, and Eightball.

God damn lousy Blogger.

As always, blame Ian

So this is my blog. Blame Ian. In order to comment at his excellent new comics blog, Brill Building (which, technically, is non-capitalized -- "brill building" -- but I'm far too anal to let that sit), I had to register here at Blogger.com. And then I figured, as long as I'm already registered....

You know what I like? Probably not, is my guess. Lots of stuff, is the short answer. Long answer is what I plan to post here. All my flavorite TV, movies, books, comics, music, video games, and miscellaneous additional crap that falls under that semi-dignified descriptor "Pop Culture." It's a much more respectable term than "Stuff I Can Enjoy Without Having To Get Off My Fat Ass," which, while possibly more accurate, won't move as many plush toys.

Ideally, I'll post every day. But as this world is less than ideal, let's chuck that idea out the damn door tout de suite. Less ambitiously, I'd like to post every weekday, with specific days set aside for different aspects of the Culture we call Pop: Mondays for movies, Tuesdays for TV, Wednesdays for books, Thursday for comics, and Friday, potpourri. (For example.) Realistically, I'll post whenever I damn well please. Hell, this may be my first and last post right here. If I don't make my every-weekday schedule, well, as the Dread Pirate Roberts once said, "Get used to disappointment."

Oh, also, I hate a lot of stuff. Lots of stuff. Lots and lots and lots of stuff. Lots. I plan on posting about some of that, too. Because, after all, it's often the most negative reviews that prove the most memorable. And funniest. But I'll try to keep it to a tolerable minimum of blackest, vilest vitriol. If I can.