POTPOURRI

Two notes about links first. #1, I got a hit from whatevs (dot org), which seems like a site I will enjoy, now that I know about it (I especially like their insanely detailed reviews of every Saturday Night Live show of the season) -- but I can not for the life of me figure out where a link to my blog exists on the site. How did someone click to my site, when there is no link to be clicked?

And #2: damn. I knew Mike's blog was popular... or I thought I knew. I mean, he's linked to me before, and I've gotten a decent amount of traffic from it. But with one four word link to my Smallville post from Saturday, "Jimmy did what now?" (that is the entirety of the link), I got a veritable avalanche of hits. And they keep coming. It must be over 200 click-throughs so far, with no sign of abating. Wow. People like Mike. I think the mystery of the link helped -- Who's Jimmy? What did he do? -- but I was, and am, just floored by it. Well, greetings to all of you! Unless you never come back. In which case, Good riddance! Who needs you?? I'll be fine here by myself. All alone. In the dark. Going blind....

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I hate Michael Medved.

I've hated him for a long, long time, because, well, his taste in movies sucks. In later years, I grew to hate him even more, as his reviews became a blatant conduit for his extreme right wing political/religious agenda, all but devoid of any genuine cinematic critique. Sometime in the last few years, in fact, he abandoned altogether any semblance of being an impartial critic when he became a right wing radio commentator in the mold of Rush Limbaugh. But his recent affront against the movie-going public is simply beyond the pale.

Roger Ebert writes about what Medved has done at his site. But before I give you the link, a warning: he discusses in detail Medved's misdeeds. What Medved has done is to spoil the plot of Million Dollar Baby out of pure, unmitigated, unprofessional spite, because it conflicts with his reactionary worldview. To even suggest that there is a spoiler in Million Dollar Baby is perhaps a spoiler in and of itself (as Ebert acknowledges). But the rest of the article really spoils it. So check it out only if you've already seen the movie, or are aware of the plot.

Here is the link.

Limbaugh is guilty of the same crime, but that's less shocking, because Limbaugh is well known to be a big fat idiot. But Medved was once, supposedly, a pro. He allegedly possessed a modicum of journalistic integrity. He clearly does not now, if indeed he ever did. Would he deliberately spoil a first-time viewer's experience of Citizen Kane, or Psycho, or The Sixth Sense? Presumably not. But he has no problem doing so with Million Dollar Baby, has no qualms about revealing every single detail of the plot on Pat Robertson's 700 Club, because his religious and political views are so unreasonable and extreme that he can not settle for anything less than ruining the movie for anyone who might be unlucky enough to encounter his diatribe disguised as review. Here is how around the bend Medved is: his website (which I will not dignify with a link) -- motto: "It's cool to be conservative" (seriously) -- proudly features a link to James Dobson's lunatic attack on Spongebob Squarepants and the We Are Family organization.

The punchline to all this, of course, is that the film is produced and directed by and stars Clint Eastwood, who is a Republican. When Clint Eastwood isn't right wing enough for you, when a guy who recently threatened to kill Michael Moore (jokingly or not) is too liberal for your liking, well, buddy, you are beyond the point of no return.

It baffles me, it really does, the behavior of today's right wing. As Christine Todd Whitman -- a Republican I can respect -- will gladly tell you, in 2005, it's not enough to simply be Republican. Now, you have to be on the extreme right of the extreme right -- or you're as much an enemy as the Democrats.

Well, this got off on more of a political rant that I'd intended. Suffice it to say: Michael Medved sucks ass.

POTPOURRI

TV: Celebrity Poker Showdown is back on Bravo, and host Dave Foley is as drunk as ever! And that to me is funny. During his first season with the show, he was so drunk he routinely slurred words, and often had trouble focusing on the camera. I guess the producers had a word with him, because all through the next series of games, he seemed to have sobered up. But with the new season, which started this week, the cork is out of the bottle! He's back, baby!

As for the poker -- oh, man. I've watched a lot of cards on TV over the past couple years, and I have never seen the best player at the table beaten time and time and time again by sheerest, stupidest luck as Sara Rue was this game. And did Sara not look cute as all git-out? (And by "cute," I mean "smokin' hot.") Boy, she's lost some weight since she played last season. Not that she wasn't hot before; I'm just making an observation.


Yeah, she's just adorable. But adorable don't cut it, because Brad Garrett was pulling cards out of his ass. Sara's got two pair? Brad fills the straight on the river. Sara's got a straight? The board gets the same straight, meaning she and Brad split the pot. She should've knocked him out of the game about 87 times, and he just kept winning. It was brutal. And great TV. Good start to the new tournament.

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MOVIES: In all my Oscar foofaraw, I neglected to mention the Razzies, which also announced its nominees on Tuesday. This may be the first year I haven't seen any of the films nominated for Worst Picture. I tried -- I saw Butterfly Effect, after all. And The Grudge! If those movies aren't bad enough to make the list, then I ain't never seein' Catwoman!

Wow, they hate Ben Stiller. He got nominated as Worst Actor for a record five films: Along Came Polly, Anchorman, Dodgeball, Envy, and Starsky & Hutch. (I think when they nominate someone, they just name every film he's been in that year.) Now, come on! He was kind of good in at least two of those films. I mean, I've grown sick of Stiller's frequently repeated nebbish-who-gets-caught-in-humiliating-situations roles, too, but at least he was doing something different in Dodgeball and his cameo in Anchorman. I thought he was great in both of those.

And the Razzies went after Dubya, too! Multiple nominations for his appearance in Fahrenheit 9/11. My favorite: Worst Screen Couple, for "George W. Bush & EITHER Condoleeza* Rice OR His Pet Goat." I never thought I'd say this, but: he's got my vote!

*It's actually spelled with two z's guys, but that's okay; it's a tough name, and it's not like she's been in any news stories recently that would allow you to check the spelling.

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The second I talked up I Read the Comics So You Don't Have To, Josh goes and changes the name to The Comics Curmudgeon. Man! Now I have to change my sidebar links again!

While I'm being all self-referential, I'd like to thank Jim Henley of Unqualified Offerings and Augie De Blieck of Various and Sundry for throwing links my way. Now, Augie is a fairly conservative fella, with, presumably, a majority of fairly conservative readers, where I, on the other hand, hate America. Oops! I meant, "am liberal." Oh, what a giveaway! My point is -- and I'm not saying the one thing has anything whatsoever to do with the other -- the thing is, the total elapsed time between Augie's link, and the first ever really bitchy political comment left on my blog, was two hours and fifty-three minutes. That's a funny little coinky-dink, innit?

POTPOURRI

I've been going very slowly through the Essential Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 6 collection, because, despite the fact that I think these stories may represent the height of Spidey's comic book popularity, encompassing many landmark events (like Gwen Stacy's death and the introduction of the Punisher), and may well be the era during which most long-term comics fans were first introduced to the character (I know the first issues I ever read as a kid are contained in this book)... where was I going with this?

Oh, yeah, despite how popular and iconic these issues are, they are just horribly, horribly, horribly written. Gerry Conway has to be one of the very worst writers in the history of comics. And I say that even with the painful memories of Todd McFarlane's Spider-Man still poisoning some small corner of my mind.

But what's worse, the way Conway writes Spider-Man, Spidey comes off as a world class asshole. He's always snubbing his friends, insulting Mary Jane when she's trying to cheer him up, abandoning his best friend Harry, who's in heroin withdrawal and whose father has recently been killed. But what's more, rather than stopping crime, he exacerbates it, actively preventing super-villains from curing themselves of their powers.

In two comics released the very same month (cover dated June, 1974), Amazing Spider-Man #133 and Giant-Size Super-Heroes featuring Spider-Man #1, Conway's Spider-Man stops Molten Man and Morbius (respectively) from obtaining the potential cure for their conditions.

In the former, Spider-Man basically pieces together what the Molten Man has been trying to do (gather ingredients needed to recreate what originally made him the Molten Man in an effort to halt the radioactive decay of his body -- radiation which, by the way, is far more deadly than he ever was in his pre-decaying state), but still engages him in battle, endangering police and other innocent bystanders along the way. (In one scene, Spidey actually clobbers two policemen who confront him, sending them into unconsciousness with, "Pleasant dreams... creeps!") As the Molten Man's death approaches, he cries,

"I only needed time--! Time to reverse the deterioration-- but Spider-Man wouldn't stop hounding me! [...] Now you've attacked me, when I was so close to success! I had all the elements I needed to cure myself-- all but one, and that one I stole this evening--! If I'd escaped, I could have rediscovered the formula that created this accursed golden shell... I could have saved myself if it hadn't been for--"

And what is Spider-Man's thoughtful response? "Sure you could have, Raxton-- and my name's Santa Claus!" What a Spider-Dick. Oh, by the way, in the ensuing fight, Spidey throws the Molten Man's precious ingredients into the river, which the Molten Man dives after; upon hitting the freezing water, the Molten Man explodes. Nice. Real nice.

In Giant-Size Etc., Morbius, "the Living Vampire," is trying to reach Professor Ward, a hematologist who has "developed a process to completely replace a person's blood". Clearly, Morbius is seeking a cure for himself. When he enters the professor's lab, he says, "I've been in Hell, Professor Ward... and I've come to you to release me!" Enter Spider-Man, who jumps in, fists swinging, rather than letting the completely non-threatening, non-violent Morbius use the prof's knowledge to help himself. In the fight, the professor's lab equipment is destroyed, leading a stricken Morbius to lament,

"Ward said that without it, his experiment was useless-- [...] You've caused me to destroy what might be my last chance, Spider-Man..."

And Morbius flees. But it turns out the professor's equipment is not destroyed; Spidey switched out the real stuff with spare parts. He planned not only to prevent Morbius from obtaining a cure, but also to make him lose all hope that a cure might ever be found. And then he blithely allowed Morbius to escape. In fact, he must have expected Morbius to escape; if he thought he could capture him, the elaborate ruse wouldn't have been needed. Dude! What is the point? Rather than cure him, or catch him, you deprive him of hope and set him loose? That won't cause any trouble, I'm sure. Dumbass.

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In the past couple days this site has been getting scads of hits from Johanna's Cognitive Dissonance. And I can't figure out why. I assumed she had linked to me (possibly to my year-end TV roundup, which seriously, that took a long time, do me a solid and at least skim it if you haven't already, and what, are you allergic to commenting?), but nope. No link, other than the sidebar. I guess she just gets a ton of traffic that also visits her sidebar links. Well, regardless of the reason: sweet. Hell, why don't you go check out her site when you're done here? Very nice comics reviews and links to be found there!

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I'm a little hesitant to continue the top ten lists this week, because for one thing, other than TV, I'm not sure what other field I could really make a definitive list for. I could go through all the movies I've seen this year (like Monty just did), but 1) I haven't seen all that many, and 2) I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I mostly saw mainstream, blockbuster-type fare. Even Fahrenheit 9/11 was a blockbuster of sorts.

Books? I doubt I've read many more than ten books total this year. (Exclude children's books, like the Lemony Snicket stuff, and I'm probably down to single digits.) I've been very lax about my non-comic reading. I still haven't read that last damn Dark Tower book! I've only been waiting for the conclusion to the series for twenty years; what the hell is keeping me from getting to it?

And speaking of comics, I guess I could cobble some kind of list together, but I think I don't read as wide a variety of comics as I should to make a very interesting list, and I don't really have the recall to single out specific issues or landmarks from longer than about a month ago. I could name Street Angel and Eightball and American Elf and She-Hulk and Ex Machina and Girl Genius and Fables and We3 and Scurvy Dogs (and indeed I will, should I crack down and get to that list), but I can barely remember what happened last month in Y: The Last Man, let alone recall comics highlights from January. I'm a poor excuse for a comics fan.

Hey, I think I may just have written my top ten comics list, right there. Counting Y... yep, that's ten. Welp, that was easier than I thought! What, I should maybe do more commentary on those titles? Okay, maybe I will have a list to post tomorrow, after all.

Potpourri

I already mentioned this elsewhere, but I might as well mention it here too: did anyone else notice the little censorship moment on this week's season premiere of The Simpsons? Toward the end, Homer says, "You're still the best cook in this family," and Marge says, "Oh, B.F.D." Only you couldn't hear the "F".

I replayed the line about a dozen times. It wasn't a TiVo glitch, and it didn't sound like a recording error on the part of the network. Fox deliberately muted that one letter. Has the fear of reprisal from the draconian FCC become so rampant that even the initial of a dirty word has to be censored?

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Speaking of censorship, go read Sars' take on the bullshit uproar over ABC's airing of Saving Private Ryan at Tomato Nation. She has crystallized my thoughts eloquently. Or at least, with far fewer curse words than I would've used. The wrong Powell has been forced out of the Bush administration; it's Colin's son Michael, the FCC Chairman, that really needs to go.

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In case you missed the Championship Game of Bravo's Celebrity Poker Showdown, and were wondering if Dennis Rodman was still a humongous douchebag: rest assured that he most definitely is.

Early in the game, Rodman threw away a losing hand, cards face-down and in the muck. Tournament director Robert Thompson immediately declared Mekhi Phifer winner of the hand. Rodman then got upset, saying his cards should be shown first. Whether Rodman was even aware that his hand was by far the worse hand or not was hard to tell, but when Thompson correctly told him that by throwing his cards away he had forfeited the hand, Rodman tore off his microphone, said, "I'm not even gonna play," and stormed out of the room.

After the commercial break, he came back and sat down again with the other now visibly uncomfortable celebrities, but when he was later eliminated, he made a point of shaking everyone's hand but Thompson's.

What a little bitch. (As much as a nine-foot-tall man can be a "little" bitch.) If he had owned the deck of cards, he would've taken it and gone home. (And if it was all some crazy ploy to rattle the other competitors -- which I highly doubt, but you never know -- it sure backfired; Rodman was eliminated first.)

My prediction for the game couldn't have been much more wrong. I picked Phifer to lose first, as he was by far the worst player (with the possible exception of Rodman), but his crazy luck from the first game held, and he took the grand prize. He just would not fold! How do you win when you play with crappy cards every hand and never ever fold?

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Of interest tonight: the debut of House, the new medical drama on Fox starring Hugh Laurie. Laurie is absolutely wonderful in everything he's ever been in (from Blackadder to Jeeves & Wooster to -- okay, maybe not Stuart Little), but I fear he might be the only thing worth watching in this show. Even if he is, that's still a darn good reason to watch.

Also tonight, the season premiere of The Amazing Race 6. Last season let me down a bit; after the first couple weeks, there wasn't a single team left I could root for. It's fun to have villains to root against; it's not fun when there are only villains. Hopefully the casting is a little more balanced this time. Either way, it remains the best reality show on the air, bar none. (Take that, Littlest Groom!)

Potpourri

The final table of the current Celebrity Poker Showdown series will air this Sunday, with players Matthew Perry, Dennis Rodman, Kevin Nealon, Neil Patrick Harris, and Mekhi Phifer. (The Bravo website conveniently, and possibly unintentionally, but probably not, ranks them in order of celebrity importance, from Ace to Ten.) My prediction: I think Phifer and Nealon got to the finals on pure luck, and will be eliminated first (in that order). Rodman will stick around for a while because of his intimidating persona (and in spite of his erratic play), but in the end, Harris will edge out Perry for the win. Doogie's got skills!

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I finally finished going through all the Farscape episodes I taped during the Sci-Fi Channel's recent marathon. That is one excellent show. But I gotta say, I understand now why the fans were so ticked off about how the series ended when it got cancelled. What a pisser of a cliffhanger! Man, you end it one minute earlier, and it's happily ever after. Well, now I've got the Peacekeeper Wars mini-series queued up and ready to go on my TiVo. It better not end on a cliffhanger!

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I haven't gotten the blockbuster Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas that all the kids are talking about yet, because I'm still trying to finish GTA: Vice City. Partly that's because I'm much less of a gamer than I used to be; last week, when I got back into Vice City again, I was surprised to see my previous saved game was from May. And partly it's because Vice City is so damn big. I finished the main storyline, defeating the Mafia goons trying to take over my territory, and becoming the unchallenged kingpin of Vice City. The end credits rolled and everything. Then I checked the statistics: I had only completed 42% of the game. In one sense, I had finished it, but in another sense, I wasn't even halfway done, what with all the missions, hidden packages, insane stunt jumps, properties, etc. I had yet to discover/explore/complete. Now that is getting your money's worth. And I hear San Andreas is even bigger. I think I may wait for Sony to release the inevitable "Greatest Hits" version for $19.99 before I buy it; no matter how much gameplay is in it, I still think fifty bucks is too damn much to lay down for a video game.

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Found via Pop Culture Junk Mail: there is a blog solely dedicated to the deconstruction of the comic strip "For Better or For Worse". It's For Better or For Worse Strikes Back, and it's a crack-up. Actually, as I examine it more closely, I see the maintainer has recently abandoned the blog, leaving it open to anyone who wants to post about that day's happenings with the Patterson clan. How fun! Much like Hulk's Diary, this is something I wish I had thought of first. Maybe I'll start my own blog about "Rose is Rose". Or "Drabble"!

Potpourri

I really have no idea what to write today, but since my traffic is up recently, and it only takes one day off to be totally forgotten and drop back down to double digits in hits (yes, I actually worry about that kind of thing, I'm a mess), I'll just write whatever the hell comes to mind.

--I got the first season DVD box sets for both The Simpsons and Futurama yesterday. I hadn't gotten them before because A) I don't think the first season of The Simpsons holds up very well at all, and B) I've seen the first season of Futurama plenty enough in reruns on the Cartoon Network. But that Amazon sale ($15.99 each!) was too much to resist.

--Next up from Amazon: The Complete Peanuts 1953-1954 and Random Zits. I loves my comic strips! Too bad the new Doonesbury isn't out for another couple weeks, or I'd have added that to my order, too.

--Comic strips that don't get collected in books anymore, but should: One Big Happy. Drabble. The Fusco Bros.

--You know what comic strips I don't love?

• Fox Trot. Hate it. Same structure every damn strip: a line in panel one gets repeated in panel four, either by a different character or in a different context. So uninventive and predictable.
• Get Fuzzy. Having the dog actually say "Ha! Ha! Ha!" doesn't make the punchlines any funnier. In fact, they're not funny at all.
• Non Sequitur. Seriously, does anybody like that crap?

--If I had a regular newspaper subscription, I would revive the Baltimore City Paper's "Funny Paper" column on this blog every Friday. For those of you who have never run across it online, it was a weekly critique of the Baltimore Sun's daily comic strips -- a very harsh and hilariously meticulous critique. Sample from the last time the column ran (last February):

MOMMA: Wednesday, Momma mistakes a door-to-door scythe, cassock, and sandals salesman for the Grim Reaper. Sandals? The Grim Reaper isn't a fuckin' hippie!

There are tons of columns in the archives, go check 'em out. And maybe I'll start getting my local paper, just to have a guaranteed post once a week. As opposed to this rambling mess today.

POTPOURRI

I recently borrowed the DVD of the animated version of Terry Pratchett's Soul Music from Dorian. I'd like to give it a detailed review. I'd like to, but I can't, since I could only get through one of the seven episodes on the disc. Here's my review: it's awful. Bad animation, bad voice-acting, and the things that are funny in print just don't translate into funny on the screen. But thanks, Dorian! I promise I'll return it today.

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I've been catching up on some of the Saturday Night Lives that I've missed over the past couple of seasons, in repeats on E!, and I just saw the Lindsay Lohan episode. You know, the one where she plays Hermione in a Harry Potter sketch, and everyone keeps staring at her massive cleavage? Yeah, that was a good one. It's very difficult to feel guilty about looking at a 17-year-old girl's boobs when she voluntarily appears in a skit based entirely around looking at her boobs.

What? I'm just sayin'.

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Speaking of Lindsay Lohan (and let's see, by the way, if talking about her boobs gets me as much search engine traffic as my post about a certain Olympian's posterior, which, seriously, has gotten me dozens of very creepy hits), it's time for another installment of This Week in IMDb Chatboard Idiots! Let's see what we can find on Lindsay's page.

So much to choose from! We have one thread titled "Damn girl, your orange!!!" which I can only assume from the use of "your" rather than "you're" is all about Lindsay's choice of citrus products. Then there's "this picture is real!" which includes a link to a very obviously fake picture of Lindsay and Hilary Duff smiling together, which is intended to disprove the two of them are feuding. But I think my very favorite is this thread in which, I swear on my life, these no-life trolls are ripping on her for having, in their opinion... an oddly-placed belly button. I swear to you.

From lookatthisboys, the originator of the thread:

She has such a LONG waist line, and her bellybutton is places to high, or from her belly botton to her privates there a HECK of a long distance there.

From G-Unit_Pimpette624:

And she has the strangest, highest belly button I've ever seen in my life...its like in the middle of her stomach! Ewww!

From 50_Cent_N_Eminem:

JESUS CHRIST I WOULD CONSIDER THAT A BIRTH DEFECT!!

From OrlandoBloomRoxMySox:

omg! i've never seen that pic before, and i'd say i'm more concerned about her belly button! MAN that's weird!

And my favorite, from JAKEGYLLENHAAL16:

I totally agree about her long waist line because when i saw her in her bikini and low rise jeans and her belly button is like about 8 or soo inches away from the middle of her boobs i mean that can't be normal i thought i was abnormal cuz my belly button is normal now i guess cuz i wen i wear low rise i can't wear the jeans how she does cuz my butt would show lol and when she wears them its nothing its so perfect and her thighs r big i think she is that type of person who is thin at the top and huge and the bottom and oo ya she has a big ass!!

I'll bet talking to JAKEGYLLENHAAL16 in real life would sound like an exact transcript of that post. Only more annoying.

POTPOURRI

TV: I'm getting way behind in my TV watching, which isn't healthy for my TiVo at all. It's backlogged with episodes of The 4400, Insomniac with Dave Attell, Less Than Perfect, the movie Clerks, and, unbelievably enough, last week's Amazing Race, which I usually watch as soon as possible. I think I'm nearing the TiVo danger zone, where shows are going to be automatically deleted to make room on the hard drive, if I'm not careful.

Speaking of TiVo, I'm a little alarmed by reports (found via Mark Evanier) that it's not doing so well, business-wise. Which I can't believe. Everyone should have one. It's the greatest invention since... well, television. They're dropping the prices this month. You must get one, I'm telling you.

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MOVIES: Run, Ronnie, Run

I loved Bob Odenkirk and David Cross' Mr. Show, which spawned this film, but I didn't much care for the film itself. For one thing, it's inspired by a sketch from the show which I never liked in the first place: Ronnie Dobbs, a poor, stupid, white trash troublemaker, becomes famous for being arrested multiple times on a Cops-like show, and eventually an entire show is built around him getting arrested every single week. The movie stretches this thin concept way beyond its breaking point, while adding in various weak satires of other reality shows (a Survivor rip-off in which the losers are killed and eaten), and it fails to ever really pick up steam.

There are tons of cameos by some very funny people (such as Ben Stiller, Garry Shandling, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, Patton Oswalt, Scott Thompson, Patrick Warburton, and, most random of all, Jeff Goldblum), but they never really do anything funny. I mean, when you've got Dave Foley and Andy Richter and Sarah Silverman in the same scene, and my only response is, "Eh," you're doing something wrong. The only one of these cameos that worked for me was Jack Black's performance of a hilariously vulgar song in a "deleted scene" from a Mary Poppins-esque musical.

There were a number of laughs throughout the film; I especially enjoyed the music video interlude by faux soul group Three Times One Minus One (played by Bob and David), and a Mortal Kombat-style fight scene toward the end had me in stitches. But I mostly felt like this film was a series of missed opportunities. The central concept could've been utilized to better effect, and the film could've been funnier still if the central concept weren't such a dud to begin with. Good job on putting Nikki Cox in a bikini for most of her scenes, though. Very good job.

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"Summer, if you grade-grub one more time... I will send you back to the first grade."

I have to admit, I did a little grade-grubbing yesterday. About 7:30 PM, I noticed that I had 89 hits via my Sitemeter counter. So I pinged my blog (that sounds dirty) to get it refreshed on the Comic Weblog Updates page. I'm not proud of myself. But I finally got triple digits in hits, which I take pride in. Oh, wait, I guess I am proud of myself. Anyway, just before midnight, the site received its 100th hit of the day, which is a landmark for me. Drinks are on the house!

POTPOURRI

COMICS: Reading the Bone one-volume collection is exhausting. It's 1300 pages long, and thick as a cinder block, and it weighs more than a Thanksgiving turkey stuffed with ball bearings. I've been getting quite a workout just from cracking it open. And the page size is slightly smaller than a regular-sized issue, which means I have to strain my eyes more than usual. This thing's gonna take forever to read. Let me put it in perspective for you: if I read one issue per year, it will take me FIFTY-FIVE YEARS to finish this book.

Yeah. You see what I mean now.

Also, even after the many years it's been since I read the original issues, I can still pick out some of the revisions Jeff Smith has made for this collection. And I'll tell you, I don't mind the odd reworked sentence or two... but all that hardcore porn he added is really jarring. I'm not sure I would've made the same choice, were I in his shoes. Well, to each his own.

Oh, no, wait, I was reading XXXenophile. My mistake.

MOVIES: Tough decision this weekend: The Village, or Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle? Possibly both, if I pull a theater-hopping double feature tomorrow. If I have to choose: White Castle wins. I love M. Night Shyamalan's films, but this one's been getting some bad reviews, and I'm just not as much in the mood for a moody, suspenseful period piece as I am for a stoner comedy.

But the one movie I can't miss this weekend is Outfoxed: Rupert Murdoch's War on Journalism. I'm not even sure how, because I thought Murdoch had gotten an injunction against this film, but it's playing at my local theater on Sunday, one show only. It's all about how Murdoch blatantly uses Fox News as a promotional tool for the Republican party, with stolen footage from Fox News illustrating exactly how they advance that right wing agenda (which is why there is/was an injunction against it). From what I hear, the documentary as a whole is fairly amateurish, but when it gets to the Fox News footage, it's stunning. I can't wait.

TV: Celebrity Poker Showdown next week features Amy Poehler. I love Amy Poehler. That is all.

POTPOURRI

MOVIES: I don't think I made this entirely clear on my previous entry, but in addition to mocking the Showgirls special edition DVD, I also truly, sincerely covet it, and plan on buying it this weekend. Damn right!

COMICS: Because I'm now listed on the Comic Weblog Updates page (and proudly so, I might add), I kind of feel some pressure to post a little more frequently about, you know, comics. So, in the beating a dead horse department: Eightball #23.

When I posted about it a couple weeks ago, my entire review consisted of:

I liked it fine. It made me a little sad. Louie was kind of a dick.

And I wasn't kidding. (Well, not much.) I mean, it's a good comic. Very good. What little I've read of Clowes' stuff has had the rare ability to make me feel something when reading a comic (most often, melancholy and a squirming discomfort... which is probably why I haven't read more of his stuff -- those aren't pleasant feelings in large amounts). I think he's really quite an excellent comics creator.

That said, I don't get all the hoopla. The comics "blogosphere" (I'm still lacking a better, non-idiotic term) seems to have risen up as one and decreed Eightball #23 its new lord and master. As I said in that previous post, this comic is being as infinitely praised and minutely deconstructed as if it were a newly discovered James Joyce novel.

I don't see all that. It's very smart, very enjoyable, it makes you laugh, makes you cringe, it's an insightful look into a troubled mind. But it ain't Ulysses. Or even Watchmen. Is it better than most comics? Is it the best single issue of the year? Maybe, maybe. But even so, I can't see writing a thesis on it.

Maybe that's why I don't write about comics more often.

TV: Last night on Bravo I caught a repeat of Kathy Griffin's stand-up special, The D-List (which, by the way, isn't even listed amongst her credits on IMDb.com -- that's odd). Basically, from her vantage point as a minor, minor celebrity ("For a while I was hovering around the C-List, but once you do 'Celebrity Mole' it's straight to the D"), she talks shit about all the better-known and infinitely weirder celebrities she encounters in her professional life, from a weepy, John Lennon-quoting Sharon Stone, to a menacing, profusely sweating Whitney Houston, to a near-comatose Anna Nicole Smith. And I loved it. You know there are millions of sick and twisted stories about the Hollywood elite floating around, and Griffin is your direct access to those stories. The humor flows naturally from the bizarre people and situations; she barely even has to craft punchlines around them, they're so hysterical to begin with.

The caveat is, you have to be able to take Griffin herself in order to enjoy her storytelling. She's got a grating, raspy voice, an abrasive, aggressive, sometimes flighty delivery ("Oh I forgot to tell you this!!"), and a far-too-chummy attitude with the audience. I can see how some might be turned off right from the beginning, and never even give her act a chance. Personally, though, I enjoy the whole package, and I'd really like to see this turned into a series of specials. I'll bet she's got enough stories to produce a new hour at least monthly, maybe even a half-hour weekly.

POTPOURRI

TV: What The Amazing Race is lacking in teams to root for this year, it's more than making up for in teams to hate, which is just as fun. Charla and Mirna are on the top of my list: little person Charla for constantly insisting how strong and independent she is, then manipulating others into feeling sorry for her and helping her, and complaining when they don't, and Mirna for being such a bloody victim, such a martyr. Everything that goes wrong happens because other people are out to get her, because something is being done to her, as opposed to simply resulting from her own weakness and incompetence. "Now we're lost, because we trusted somebody," she said in last night's episode. No, you're lost because you were driving the lead car and you were stupid enough to miss the turn. How is that the fault of the car following you, whose driver did make the right turn? Answer: it's NOT! Ya freak.

Also, I'm sick to death of Mirna yelling at her cousin, "Come on Charla, this is a race, Charla, hurry up, Charla!" She is hurrying! Her legs are half the length of yours, you dumbass!

Then there's Chip and Kim. Chip started out seeming like such a sweetheart, but turned into a snake in the second episode. He sabotaged Kami and Karli by jumping into their cab and refusing to get out until another cab arrived for his team. And now he's got the nerve to trash talk about them, as though they were at fault. What a jackass.

And the pizza brothers, Marshall and Lance: at first look, I hoped they would be like the first season's Kevin and Drew, wise-cracking fun-lovers. Instead, they make offensive remarks about women drivers and the native people: "Useless foreigners!" Check your passport, chump: you're the foreigner, and your inability to communicate with the locals doesn't make them useless.

I just hate so many of these people. Which means the Amazing Race's casting directors have done their job again! Way to go!

COMICS: All the foofaraw over Identity Crisis has almost made me want to pick it up. Almost. Because just when I think it sounds interesting or controversial enough for me to check out, I remember, Oh yeah, I couldn't care less about the Elongated Man. Killing off his wife is like killing off Dr. Marvin Monroe on The Simpsons: nobody cared about him, nobody missed him, and after enough time had passed, he came back from the dead anyway. (Or as was said of Monty Burns: "His condition was upgraded to 'alive'.")

BOOKS: I actually will have a proper Books post to make later tonight, but it might be fairly late, since tonight is trivia night at the local sports bar. And I can't miss that. One minute before midnight is still keeping to the schedule!

TV AGAIN: Don't forget to tune into Denis Leary's firefighter comedy/drama Rescue Me on FX tonight. Even if you're not otherwise inclined to watch a Denis Leary show, just think of FX's record with original programming so far: The Shield, Nip/Tuck, and, in my opinion, the best new show of 2003 (though sadly prematurely cancelled), Lucky. I think that puts the chances for Rescue Me being a keeper pretty high, don't you?

POTPOURRI

I goofed yesterday. Instead of posting my weekly comics entry, I saved it as a draft. So the update did not appear. Crap. Technically, I did update yesterday, keeping my daily post streak alive; it's just none of you could see the update. Okay, technically, I screwed the pooch. But it's up now.

MOVIES: Just re-watched Gremlins 2: The New Batch on DVD. It really is a very funny, satirical film. My favorite parts are when it directly satirizes the original Gremlins, as when Leonard Maltin gives that film a bad review, and is savaged by gremlins. Or, even better, when Phoebe Cates, spoofing her "Why I hate Christmas" speech from the first film, suddenly goes into a silly "Why I hate Lincoln's Birthday" rant, while boyfriend Zach Galligan rolls his eyes behind her. Best of all, you gotta love Tony Randall as the "Brain" Gremlin. Oh, and Christopher Lee (as "Dr. Catheter") carrying a pod from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. And also... oh, lots of stuff. Really, it's good.


COMICS: This week's Comic Shop News has a big article on the impending return of Grimjack, my favorite comic book ever. After more than ten years of legal battles over the rights to the character, which were tied up when original publisher First Comics went bankrupt, the rights have finally returned to co-creators John Ostrander (writer) and Timothy Truman (artist). A six issue mini-series is scheduled to debut in early 2005, returning to the first incarnation (it's a long story) of Grimjack, John Gaunt, along with reprints of the original series, and if they do well, there's a possibility of Grimjack returning in a monthly book. Nothing would make me happier. Well, okay, many things would make me happier, starting with Lauren Graham in a French maid's outfit on top of a pile of hundred dollar bills... but nothing within the realm of possibility would make me happier.