Wednesday, September 26, 2007

The Life of O'Reilly, Dept.

ABC News: O'Reilly: Blacks Surprisingly Civilized

The scales have fallen from Bill O'Reilly's eyes. He went to Sylvia's, a Black-run restaurant in Harlem, and, would'ja believe it?, it was just like any other restaurant in New York City! Let's listen to Bill explain it:

"[It] was like going into an Italian restaurant in an all-white suburb in the sense of people were sitting there, and they were having fun. And there wasn't any kind of craziness at all...There wasn't one person in Sylvia's who [was] screaming, 'M-F'er, I want more iced tea!'"

Hot damn but those darkies'll surprise you! No screaming, no craziness, what next, no crap games in the corner for stolen chicken and watermelons? no tap-dancing by grinning pickaninnies for nickels? no bug-eyed expressions of terror when confronted by ghosts? Now, that's not the Harlem I know. At least, not the one I know based on films made in the 1930s. So, I can totally see how Bill lost his bearings. Black people behaving practickly like White people? What the fuckin' fuck, motherfucker? What's next, cats chasing dogs and horses riding men?

So, yeah, poor Bill is probably going to be pilloried by the femmo-homo-pinko-aborto-Liberals for this innocent observation. When all he's doing is speaking Truth to Power. Poor Bill. He's bouncing back on his next show, though, with an insightful report on how there are actually a few Latinos in this country who don't work as gardeners, sport gold front teeth, or talk like Speedy Gonzales' cousin, Slowpoke Rodriguez. Should be riveting.
Mitt-woch Report, Dept.

Romney Withholds Comment on Killings

Yeah, so Mitt is saying that, until the results of an ongoing investigation are in, he'll withhold judgment on the shoot-first-and-duck-questions-later policies of those fine, fine security professionals who blew away a bunch of Iraqi civilians in a fairly one-sided firefight.

That's very even-handed of him. Very prudent. Why, one might not even necessarily know that his new senior adviser on counterterrorism and national security is a vice chairman at Blackwater USA, the selfsame firm that employed the trigger-happy fellows who sent 11 Iraqis to meet Allah early.

I am totally sure that when the by-no-means-rigged results of this investigations--early guess: blame on both sides, "terrible tragedy", definitely not corporate policy, Blackwater gunmen to be "appropriately disciplined", rules of engagement to be "clarified", payoff to families of dead Iraqis--are revealed that Mittens will respond with words that are measured, just, and designed not to alienate anyone who feels that a few clips emptied into ragheads, for any reason really, is just plain ol' Manifest Destiny rearing its tousled head.

'Cause that's the way Mittens rolls. Get on board or get under the wheels.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Ask Not for Whom the Bell LOLs, Dept.

Here's something y'all can take to the bank, actually a two-fer:
1) every crap physical comedy released in the course of a summer will feature one retard's assertion that it's "laugh-out-loud funny!";
2) it won't be.

I was throwing out some newspapers today and came upon a full-page ad for Rush Hour 3. Sure enough, "Monica Jackson"--she's the morning news anchor at KVVU-TV/FOX and a woman well-versed in film criticism what with her previous gig as Morning Traffic Anchor in Greensboro, North Carolina--is quoted as saying this addition to the Chris Tucker oeuvre was, yes, "laugh-out-loud funny."

Now, your sobsister was forced to sit through the trailer for this, ummm, what's a nicer phrase for it than "repellent piece of shit"?...well, we'll call it a "film" for argument's sake, not once but twice. And I can state without fear of contradiction that it was most emphatically not "laugh-out-loud funny." It wasn't even smile-out-loud amusing. It was mostly grimace-out-loud annoying. I heard no laughing-out-loud from among the other assembled patrons either. What I could hear over the din of things crashing and breaking and flying on-screen. Not to mention the piquant verbal byplay that has come to characterize Tucker-Chan dialogue. The sort of thing one might expect Noël Coward to script if they dug him up and plunked his remains in front of a typewriter tomorrow.

So, yes. "Laugh-out-loud funny." Avoid it as you would outrages against your virtue, children. Avoid it as you would anything labelled "chocolatey". Because it won't be. Ever ever ever.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

The Role He Was BORN To Play!, Dept.

Tony Stark makes you feel
He's a cool exec with a heart of steel
As Iron Man, all jets ablaze,
He fights and smites with repulsor rays
Amazing armor! That's Iron Man!
A blazing power! That's Iron Man!

Stirring words. Whirring words.
The theme to the 1966 "Iron Man" segments of the limited-animation television series Marvel Superheroes.
Why has this tune emerged from its decades-long sleep, you would ask if you weren't otherwise occupied?
The trailer for next May's Iron Man live-action theatrical release.
Now, the trailer itself is heavy on the action and F/X. But the basic story is there. Tony Stark, hard-drinking, hard-hearted billionaire industrialist playboy, finds himself forced to fashion a suit of electronic armor to extricate himself from the clutches of North Vietnamese Arab fanatics, yatta yatta. The point here is that Tony Stark is being played by Robert Downey Jr. Who could look more perfect as Tony Stark but then he'd have to be two-dimensional and enclosed by a comic-book panel.
May 2nd, people.
And then The Dark Knight on July 18th.

Comic book movies are like tuna fish sandwiches.
You take them for granted until you have a really good one and then it's, like, fuck, why don't I eat tuna fish all the fucking time?!

Your mileage may vary.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Greenpriest, Dept.

There was a sweet little article in the New York Times this morning about how the Vatican is set to become the world's first carbon-neutral state by accepting a Hungarian company's offer to reforest a denuded stretch of land north-east of Budapest in order to offset the Vatican's carbon-dioxide production.

So, the Vatican goes green and gets some nice PR, the Hungarian company gets to tout its own efforts. A happy example of how trade in carbon credits is a good thing for the environment and development both. Win-win, to all appearances.

Then up chimes a Vatican type, Msgr. Melchor Sánchez de Toca Alameda, from the Council for Culture at the Vatican, who tells the Catholic News Service that buying carbon credits is like doing penance: “One can emit less CO2 by not using heating and not driving a car, or one can do penance by intervening to offset emissions, in this case by planting trees."

Let me see if I follow the monsignor's argument, then: emitting CO2, in this case, is like sinning. So, you can redress this grievous trespass before the Lord by simply, let's say, not sinning or you can bypass this onerous restriction on your lifestyle by simply having someone do your penance for you while you go right on sinning.

So, two things. First, did the good padre not think this through before he spoke? He didn't, did he? 'Cause I don't want to be nitpicky or anything but this is a fairly crap analogy from a doctrinal standpoint. Second, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the notion of buying penance to offset the sins one has committed very similar to the Catholic Church's practice of selling indulgences about which there was no small amount of to-do back in the sixteenth century? With the Theses and the nailing and the church doors and whatnot.

Die Hard 5: Old Habits of Churchmen.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

The Madwoman in the Attic, Dept.

Hey, they let ol' Lynne Cheney out of her cell to attend September 11 memorial ceremonies! She reportedly snarled and blinked her eyes repeatedly when allowed into sunlight for the first time in at least three years. She gradually became accustomed to the bright light, however, as well as to the presence of human beings other than her gaolers. The Second Lady hugged a worn and filthy rag doll to her bosom throughout the ceremonies, reportedly her captivity confidante.

Well, buck up, Lynne! Only 496 more days until you can open your mouth in public again! Can't wait to hear the inside poop on the Cheney White House!