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Saturday, March 27, 2004

The Passion of Mel Gibson: Religious Actor Allegedly Cheats on Wife

According to that significant cultural artifact the National Enquirer, Mel Gibson cheated on his wife with B movie actress Diane Alouise.

Apparently she passed a lie detector test given to her by the tabloid. She says:

"We drank like fish and made love more than 20 times. He never mentioned God or religion."

Whatever.

New blog posts (September 7) here.
A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Angelina Jolie, pilot. Apparently not content with being an Oscar winning actress, UNHCR Goodwill Ambassador, former hillbilly wife and adoptive mom, restless Angelina Jolie, the future Mrs. Mwangaguhunga tells the Daily Record she is studying to be a licensed pilot.

"'My dream is to deliver food and help people get from one place to another.

"'Part of this is because every time (Maddox) sees a plane he's amazed. If I could fly a plane by the time he's four, I'll be like Superwoman to him.'"

My dreams concerning Angelina Jolie and superwomen costumes, however, cannot be discussed here, in a family-friendly blog (come on, Disney might want to buy me out someday; you never know)

Out: The hardest working man in show business, James Brown, is "disgusted" that the po-po didn't let him freshen up before taking his now infamous mug shot.

The singer of "hotpants" told the Sydney Morning Herald (link via ananova), "It was quite comical. You get a man out of bed and that kind of thing happens.

"You don't get a chance to freshen yourself up. You expect that. Later on, I got my shave in and did my hair nicely, and I was smiling."

James -- if I may call him that -- James stressed he wasn't angry about the arrest, just "disgusted." He went on:

"For all I've done, the things I've tried to do and accomplished, just to treat me that way is an injustice in this country.

"I'm not angry about it. I'm just a human being. It happened to our Lord, so who am I? It's been done to goodwill people since time began - Martin Luther King, John Kennedy, people around the world in one way or another.

"I'm no better, and I thank God because it makes me stronger and I keep on going. The people's spirit lifts me. I'm just a human being reacting and I'm going to work."

Let's hope the people's spirit, that antic bastard muse, moves Our Man James to stop beating up his wife and leading the police through multistate PCP-fueled high speed chases.

In: The Florida Highway Patrol, policing the redneck Riviera, used an unfortunate slang word when referring to the girlfriend of a crunked up fellow officer. Apparently, according to the Smokinggun, Officer Rick Benton there is no decorum for a fellow officer arrested. In his actual arrest report, Rick Benton writes of 31-year-old corrections officer Travis McConchie and his girlfriend Bernadette:

"Travis was stopped for speeding 73 in a 45 mph he failed to pull over for approximately 1/2 mile. His girlfriend was naked and weas sitting on top of him with her tits in his face."

Okay, Roscoe P Coltrane: Since when is it okay for a cop to use slang on an official report? I mean, could't he find some burocratic term, like sweater muffins or dirty pillows? Why'd he have to go there? Why'd he have to sound like he was in a bar?

Out: Is Kirstie Alley Out of control? Apparently, Mr. Fucking John Travolta, king of self indulgence, Mr. Buy My own Private Jet, name my son Jett (conceived, by the way, on a romantic weekend at Bruce Willis and Demi Moore's place), fly it at all hours and drive my neighbors batty, and then -- the piece de resistance -- make an unwatchable science fiction scientology religious movie, belives that Alley is out of control, according to The Star:

"Former sex symbol Kirstie Alley's weight has gotten so out of control that, sources say, her good friend (and fellow Scientologist) John Travolta has staged an intervention to help keep her from ballooning even more.

Kirstie, 53, who rose to fame and fortune with her role as the feisty Rebecca Howe on the hit '80s sitcom Cheers, has gone from va-va-voom voluptuous to formidably fat."

In: The Spice Market. So in it's almost out. Page Six notes today that Tom Cruise likes the place:

"Cruise, who celebrated the announcement of his split with (Penelope) Cruz by dining with Will Smith at Spice Market Thursday night, has yet to be linked to another woman. But the star won't be unattached for long, and Hollywood insiders speculate his next escort will likely be a Scientologist because Cruise has been devoting more time to his faith and surrounding himself with fellow Scientologists."

And on Monday it will be surrounded in buzz (as well as the stench of blood and offal from the meatpacking district) as Janet Jackson's album relase party is held there, as Fix reports:

"Virgin Records is throwing a CD release party for Damita Jo on Monday, March 29 for invited guests only. It will be held at Jean-Georges Vongerichten's Spice Market restaurant in New York City. Spice Market is located at 403 West 13th Street."

Out: Michael Jackson. Sometimes the man is so out he's in, but not this time. Although Abrasion Magazine does a hilarious take on Jacko: The Bachelor.

In: The latest crop of British It girl models are being touted by British Vogue. Anna J, "Next - walked for Alexander McQueen, Louis Vuitton, Missoni, Marc for Marc Jacobs, Prada, Burberry and Nina Ricci" and Renee Meyer, "Viva - walked for Chanel, Yohji Yamamoto and Kenzo" are particularly fetching looking.

Out: Hello! Magazine goes mobile: Who's Next? We love our snarky gossip as much as the next person, but isn't it going too far when gossip goes cellular? And you know -- you just know -- that Hello will be followed by Us Weekly and Star and National Enquirer. Down time, as we know it, is almost over; welcome to the world of 24/7 gossip and cell phone nude pics of celebs in compromising positions. Not that we really mind thet, cornbread.

In: Charlie Rangel wants to fight over prescription drugs. The fuzzy teddy bear who represents Harlem in the House of Representatives to the World's Last Superpower is getting punchy over prescription drugs. According to the Hill's Michael S. Gerber:

"The top Democrat on the House Ways and Means Committee threatened to go to the House floor if Republicans deny his request to hold additional hearings on the administration�s alleged cover-up of the estimated cost of last year�s prescription drug bill.

�If we don�t hear from the chairman of the committee, we can take a privileged motion and go to the floor to demand that we get the consideration that�s given to us under the rules as the minority,� Rep. Charles Rangel (D-N.Y.) told Mark Bisnow of PolicyWonk Weekly.

Okay, leaving aside the fact that I have just quoted something called PolicyWonk Weekly, this falls into the Democrat's strategy of tying as many probes and investigations to this administration as humanly possible as the election race heats up; so far I count nine.

In other related news, the rumors regarding Fred Dicker's NY Post column about a vengeful Al Sharpton urging Adam Clayton Powell IV, Rangel's mortal enemy, his nemesis, Moriarty to his Holmes, to run against him again with his backing are sizzling the streets of Harlem.

Out: Kathy Griffin, the D-List. For someone who doesn't care about shallow, fake celebrity culture Kathy Griffith has gone through quite a bit of plastic surgery. Quite a bit.

Anyhoo: That Other Old Gray Lady reviews her new show, the D-List. Virginia Hefferman likes it, apparently.

In: John Fowles.

Friday, March 26, 2004

(Sorry guys. work deadlines prevent me from posting today. I'll post tommorrow.)

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and my blog

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Thursday, March 25, 2004

William Safire on the 9/11 Commission

Pity the great writer on politics and language William Safire. Why? Well, aside from being a Pulitzer Prize winning former Nixon speechwriter and Senior columnist for the Old Gray Lady, he has a lot of new words to digest and interpret for his On Language column in the Sunday Magazine. These 9/11 hearings have given us all pause, what with their codewords spiralling out into the light of day.

I wonder how Bill would analyze the 9/11 hearings of yesterday?

Hmmm (dreamy fade away):

Actionable Intelligence

What is actionable intelligence? And when, more precisely, is intelligence actionable?

In response to questioning from the 9/11 commission on Tuesday, Secretary of Defense Donald "The Jockstrap" Rumsfeld said, "First, I know of no actionable intelligence since January 20, 2001 that would have allowed the U.S. to attack and capture or kill Usama bin Laden."

But in this matter we will give the last word to DC doyenne Sally Quinn, who is used to such gallant favors:

Washington DC is a matriarchal society and I am the queen bee. Any incoming administration would be ill advised to get on my bad side early in the game. Ask Bill Clinton about that point sometime. Anyway, I received some actionable intelligence via the Hill some time ago that Arianna Huffington coveted my social position. Well, I don't like to kiss and tell, but let's just say Arianna was last seen dropping out of the California recall debacle and producing telemovies. She'll never eat lunch in this town again. Draw your own conclusions.

Sally Quinn,
Washington DC

The Washington Read

"I have not read the book, " is not the sentence that the President utters most often, although, no doubt, he probably does. "I have not read the book," is the answer that many under questioning from the 9/11 Commission offer up.

And what is the book in question? Why: It's Richard Clarke's Against All Enemies.

Everyone it seems used plausible denial when asked whether or not they had read the book in question. Only one respondent admitted to "the Washington read," which entails scanning the index to see if anything is said about you.

This reminds me of an incident between Norman Mailer and William F. Buckley:

"William F. Buckley once sent fellow author Norman Mailer a copy of his latest book. Mailer, disappointed to find that Buckley had apparently neglected to inscribe the book, promptly flipped through the index to see whether he had been mentioned. There, beside his name, Mailer found Buckley's 'inscription' - a handwritten 'Hi!'"

The adjectival Talmudic

Let's get our "boots on the ground" and try to discover the use of Talmudic as an adjective by the 9/11 Commission.

The New York Times Manual of Style and Usage by Allan Siegal and William G. Connolly says of Talmud, "The overall term (literally study) for the body of Jewish oral law and tradition."

But what they don't mention is that studying the Talmud is thirsty work. Influential conservative philosopher Leo Strauss made many innovations in the study of ancient philosophical texts through his intimate knowledge the Talmud (Strauss was a rabinnical student) You won't see President Bush in the near future poring over the Talmud in the West Wing, deep in thought. And so, with that improbably image in mind, any text too complicated for Dubya will hereafter be called Talmudic.

Thank You For Your Candor

After testimony is given the commissioners tell those who have just testified, "Thank you for your candor." Where did this originate?

Candor, of course, is derivative from the ancient Kryptonian city of Kand-or.

"Kandor is ... harbored in the Fortress of Solitude until Superman can one day find a way to free the people from their dimensional prison. Until that day, Cerizah and the people of Kandor will feel safe knowing Superman is looking out for their well being."















A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Richard Simmons, that Slapstick little bitch. (ed note: each slap burns a grand total of 15 calories!) Perky and flamboyant was so 90s, we want slap happy, we want gin drinks hurled at unspeakable velocities across rooms. Drama, dear reader, is very in; that never goes out of fashion. Imagine the following scenario: you are a man who likes pastry. You cannot have the pastry. You are a proud man. But your job entails that you be a punching bag for all manner of snarky tv hosts. Sometimes you are afflicted by black thoughts. But you must always smile while in public even when you're crying on the inside.

The scenario above describes Richard Simmons, our Shakespearean fool in short shorts, our chubby muppet-like fitness guru. Only the folks at TheSmokinggun could capture the hallucinatory dream-like character of la vie when Richard keeps it gangsta:

"Richard Simmons was arrested yesterday and charged with assaulting a Harley Davidson salesman during a confrontation at a Phoenix airport. No, that is not a joke. The 54-year-old fitness guru (5' 7", 155 pounds) laid the smackdown on one Chris Farney, a 23-year-old Mesa man (6' 1" and 255 pounds) who happens to cage wrestle in his spare time. According to the below Phoenix Police Department report, when Farney spotted Simmons (whose real first name is Milton) walking through the Sky Harbor International Airport, he said, 'Look, Richard Simmons. Drop your bags, let's rock to the 50's.' Farney told cops he was referring to an old Simmons workout tape. The diminutive star responded by walking over to the strapping Farney and saying, 'It's not nice to make fun of people with issues.' He then slapped Farney's face. The motorcycle salesman, who was not injured, called cops, who cited an 'emotional' and repentant Simmons for assault."

Okay, tout ensemble, people: "Milton?!"

And, seriously, can't you just see Simmons, with dead shark eyes and a icy growl, saying, sotto voce, hands on hips for dramatic effect, "It's not nice to make fun of people with issues."

Then Simmons slowly walks up to Farney, with malice in his eye and bad intentions in the cocked wrist, slapping the Harley Davidson salesman with a haymaker, not so much hurting the man's face, so much as hurting the man's feelings.

Even cage wrestlers get the blues.

Out: New School President and Democrat Bob Kerrey. Kerrey took the opportunity to play the partisan on a non-partisan committee investigating 9/11 by blasting Fox News publicly. Kerry was a moderate Democrat, but the New School is about as far to the left as an institution can possibly go. The New School is so far to the left, that Kerry's presidency has drawn fire. Apparently he wasn't democrat enough! So, keeping his embattled presidency in mind, you can see how Kerry would tone his comments of (makes ironical quote gestures) "outrage." No doubt he will have neutralized opposition to his presidency on campus and be welcomed as the conquering hero in Grenwhich Village by the time you read this blog.

In: Diplomats are the new black. Sidney Pollack is filming The Interpreter in the UN. The Observer writes:

"At a press conference at the United Nations earlier this month, Mr. Pollack said he 'hoped very much' to include some real live diplomats in the film, and was discussing it with the U.N.

"'We�ve had a lot of interest from the various diplomats,' Mr. Pollack said. 'Not only is that better for us, more authentic, but in each case they�ll be playing who they are, so I don�t have to worry about directing actors.' At the moment, the U.N.�s office of legal affairs is looking into the possibility of diplomats doubling as actors."

There are so many poignant lines about Machiavellian politics and acting that I might try out here, that remaining silent would probably be my best course.

Out: Poison's Brett Michaels goes Country. We should have known something was up when he tried to pawn off 'Every Rose Has It's Thorn" as heavy metal fare. The Ap writes:

"Michaels lived in Nashville for a few years in the late 1990s and was back there this month spending time with singer-songwriter Jeffrey Steele, who recently signed with Lofton Creek. Reportedly, Michaels is planning a country version of his song 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn.' And he's already dipped his toes into a country career. He makes a cameo in Tracy Lawrence's upcoming video for 'It's All How You Look At It.'"

On his web site here you can see he is already sporting cowboy hats. Image is everythang, hoss. Once a man transitions his website, more is sure to follow.

This may be the first transition from metal to country ever.





Courtney and Kofi Asare

here

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

Village Voice: NYPD Admits to Hip Hop Intelligence Unit

Today's Village Voice unleashes a bombshell today sure to reverberate through the music world and African American and latino culture. Apparently, the NYPD lied when the consistently denied, in the press, the existence of a surveillance of those in the hip hop community. This is, of course, utter and complete bullshit, as anyone who has ever seen the dark unmarked detective cars surveilling hip hop tour busses as they line up outside of Sony Music Studios on West 54th street knows.

Dasun Allah of the Voice writes:

"While earlier this week the department acknowledged consulting with Miami authorities, over the years the police brass have consistently denied that there is a team keeping tabs on rap stars and their entourages. A two-month investigation into the existence of such an intelligence squad produced revelations from a retired detective who says he was its founder and architect, and an admission from the NYPD that indeed there are officers assigned to do surveillance on people in and around the hiphop music scene."

He continues:

"'We have an intelligence division and we have detectives that monitor the music industry and any incidents regarding the music industry,'says Officer Doris Garcia, an NYPD spokesperson. 'And in regards to Miami P.D. we did exchange information, and that�s it.'"

Glad to see that under Bloomberg there is a certain frankness emerging out of the NYPD in our democracy, but still, this does not excuse the fact that the police, up until now, and only under direct questioning, out and out lied. And further, they are profiling an industry that is disportionately African American and Latino, which is fucked up.

Dasun Allah goes on:

"Hiphop music and fashion titan Russell Simmons thinks that the NYPD needs to contend with more serious concerns surveillance of rap stars, and questions their utilization of resources. 'They don�t follow around every rock and roll outlaw. They should be following around all these drug dealers that are real obvious,' he says. 'You know who the drug dealers are. You know all of their names. Why are you wasting your police force energy on singers?'"

Oh come on, Russell, you know the cops follow Kid Rock and Alanis Morrissette, you know they do. Uh, don't they?

Read the VV article here.

(Update: a wise reader of the Velvet Rope forums named platinumhussy reminded me that the police used to surveil punk rock clubs, so this is not a new "racial" phenomenon in social science. Do the police have a right to this manner of surveiling? I don't know. Were they wrong in lying about the existence of the unit? I still believe so.)

due to work constraints, The Corsair won't be blogging anything new tommorrow. Sorry


A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Miami. A Miami 5 Year old boy apparently sprinkled the sweet leaf on a classmates lasagne at the school cafteria. His bad. The Associated Press reports:

"Police say a 5-year-old boy brought a bag of marijuana to school and was sprinkling it over a friend's lasagna at the school cafeteria before a monitor intervened.

"Police say it is unclear whether the kindergartner at Gratigny Elementary School even knew he was carrying the drugs on Monday.

"The lasagna was confiscated before the other boy had a chance to eat it."

Never let a kindergartener near your stash!

Apparently, Entertainment Tonight is going to do a show on whether or not John Kennedy Jr smoked pot.

"Tonight on ET, we have new Kennedy bombshells: Did JFK JR. smoke pot? Was he diagnosed with ADD? Best-selling author LAURENCE LEAMER (The Kennedy Men: 1901-1963) reveals the shocking news he learned about JFK's son. Plus, we have the personal photos you've never seen before!

"'John took marijuana the same way other people take a martini in the evening,' claims Leamer, whose Sons of Camelot: The Fate of an American Dynasty is in bookstores now.

"In fact, Leamer says JFK Jr., although he was not addicted to the herb, liked it so much he took it over the border to Canada during a road trip with pals. "His friends told me they were worried they'd be arrested,' says Leamer. 'John wanted to bring it with them.'"

Fuck, Kennedy weed. You just know that must be better than hydro.

Out: Hiding crack in your crack. First off, you would think that crack rock cocaine would be outre, I mean, look at what it did to that little old lady who tried to give Junior Soprano a "half and half" last Sunday night.

Anyhoo: According to theSmokingGun, Jovon Williams had a rough night being searched by the police:

"Jovon Williams, a 24-year-old Wisconsin man found himself with a difficult decision to make last week. After Milwaukee cops searched him for drugs, he could have either turned over the goods stashed in his pants, or found a new hiding place. Williams chose the latter. According to the ... search warrant affidavit filed in the circuit court, Williams told police, 'I didn't want to get caught with that dope, I got 18 rocks, you would've done the same thing, I stuffed it way up my ass.' As for the outcome, there's little doubt no stone was left unturned in the search for the crack."

Let's just hope the cops had warm hands.

In: Grief counselling for Martha Stewart Omnimedia employees. The National Enquirer reports that overdramatic workers could whine at operatic lengths to a paid professional:

" ... employees of Martha Stewart's company were being offered 'grief counseling' -- after her conviction shocked, devastated and reduced them to tears.

"After the guilty verdicts were announced, almost everyone felt complete and utter disbelief," disclosed a staffer at Martha Stewart Living magazine.

"'We just couldn't believe that Martha would probably be going to prison.'

"'The mood at the magazine was very somber and subdued -- and it has been ever since.'

"'Everyone was walking around like zombies -- like there was a death in the family.'"

As Martha would say, stone ground crackers go well with that whine.

Out: Access Hollywood's Billy Bush is a dickface.
Jason McIntyre of that significant cultural artifact Star Magazine writes:

"At the Oscars, he brazenly played matchmaker for 13-year-old Keisha Castle- Hughes and veteran actor Johnny Depp. Then he had the gall to ask Naomi Watts, 'Watts up?' Just who is Billy Bush, and why is he always yelling?

Bush, 32, the boisterous first cousin of President George W. Bush (Billy's dad is the brother of the first President Bush), is certainly a rising star. As an entertainment correspondent for Access Hollywood, he has leaned over Alec Baldwin to talk to Sandra Bullock, and tried to ambush Ethan Hawke with off-color questions."

Like I said: a dickface.

In: Buttafucco. As in, Joey Buttafucco. He's back: in jail. He's in jail because he failed, as the Daily News writes:

"Joey Buttafuoco, whose 17-year-old lover, Amy Fisher, became known as the Long Island Lolita after shooting his wife in the head, was sentenced to a year in jail for auto insurance fraud.

"Buttafuoco, 48, pleaded guilty to a single felony count and was immediately booked into the Los Angeles County Jail. Prosecutors said Buttafuoco, who co-owns a San Fernando Valley body shop, told undercover agents how to file phony insurance claims.

"Superior Court Judge David Horwitz also sentenced Buttafuoco to five years' probation and ordered him to pay more than $4,600 in restitution."

The upside is that no one in jail is so desperate as to make Buttafuoco his "mistress."

His Buttafuoco is safe.












Kofi and Courtney: All I Wanted Was Some Chicken Nuggets

Page Six gives us the goods on the apparently not homeless but merely bedraggled breast suckler, Kofi Asare:

"Kofi Asare, 23, tells PAGE SIX he hopes to print the infamous image on T-shirts, and use it to further his dreams of becoming an actor or model. 'First there was Justin and Janet, and now there's Kofi and Courtney,' Asare crows. 'It's great exposure for me. I look at the picture and I think, Wow, that's a classic shot. It's controversial, but it's all in good fun.'

"The photo - which shows a grinning Love pulling down her top while Asare suckles her like a newborn baby - has been burning up the Internet and is rumored to have been bought by the National Enquirer.

"Asare says he was heading into Wendy's around 8 p.m. last Wednesday when he saw Love flashing her breasts at paparazzi outside. 'All I wanted was some chicken nuggets,' Asare says. 'I saw Miss Love flashing everyone. I had to push the envelope. I figured, 'This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.' She flashed me so I was like, 'May I?' She was cool with it. It wasn't like I was trying to do anything to degrade her.

"'I just said, Thank you, and she got into her vehicle with some people she was with. They sped off and the paparazzi sped off after them.' Love was arrested hours later after she allegedly hit a fan with a microphone stand while performing at Plaid.

"Asare, who is black, said he was offended after some identified him as 'homeless' when describing the photo. 'I didn't appreciate being vilified like that,' said Asare, a reservations agent for a limousine company who lives with his parents in Morningside Heights. 'It was an assassination of my character. I'm not homeless. I graduated from SUNY-New Paltz last year. I majored in public relations.'"

I wouldn't advertise a graduation from New Paltz, but point taken. With regards to the more serious allegations about underage sex, the most excellent Page Sixers investigated, and Ted Nugent wasn' returning calls:

"Meanwhile, Love went on Howard Stern's radio show yesterday and gave a rambling interview in which she claimed to have performed oral sex on rocker Ted Nugent when she was a 12-year-old groupie. Nugent did not return our call for comment. "

Nor did he return emails from The Corsair.



(image via the awesome evgrieve)

Brand new posts, January 2009 here.

Monday, March 22, 2004

Courtney's Underage Ted Nugent Sex Allegation

Another day Courtney Love bombshell, but this one is particularly disturbing, so I'll keep the snark to a minimum. One wonders if illegal underage sex is what Nugent means by quality of life upgrade that the Republican Party represents. On the Howard Stern Show today, Courtney Love admitted, after heavy questioning, to allegedly having had oral sex with Republican Ted Nugent at the age of twelve. This is an impossibly horrible revelation -- is there a statute of limitations for this sort of thing? -- and explains quite a bit about Courtney Love's disfunctional relationship to the rock and roll lifestyle.

At the Republican convention several years back, Nugent gushed to ABC News, via a chat:

"I was very proud to assist, with our Ted Nugent United Sportsmen of America Texas members, to send Ann Richards on her terminal nacho date with Cuomo and help elect a real American as governor of the great state of Texas. George W. Is my American Blood Brother."

Nugent runs the Ted Nugent Camp for Kids, which, according to their website:

"Following Fred's direction on their last hunt together, Ted created this incredibly successful Kamp for children to learn about nature and man together. A 100% volunteer 501C3 non-profit corporation. Ted Nugent Kamp for Kids is operated by qualified families and individuals who deeply care about children and their futures. Every child is treated with love, affection and spiritual guidance by our dedicated volunteers. Lessons in resource stewardship, individual accountability, the Ten Commandments, the Golden Rule, Hunter Safety and law, International Bow Education (IBEP ) and basic lesson in life are driven home in an open honest ,caring setting in the wild. Two weekends each summer for kids 9-15 will touch will touch them deeply for up-grade. True North."

Finally, In a Salon interview in 2002, "(Nugent) names a wild boar after Janet Reno ('the only thing missing was the purple dress and he-man haircut'), and describes the same boar as emitting a 'Courtney Love-like squeal.'"

No doubt the very folks Page Six and/or another entertainment outlet will be all over this tomorrow. We hope they can get Nugent to explain himself so we can get to the bottom of Love's serious allegations and whether they have a basis in fact. (Ed Note: this is the end of the grotesque Courtney Love-Ted Nugent info. To my knowledge Nugent has never denied this and Coutney Love has said she was joking but never substantiated the allegations. For more posts on pop culture for May 2011 go here)

Recap, March 2004, Courtney Love on the Stern Show:

I'm sure that the evangelical former governor and current President would be pleased at the relation. Courtney Love called Howard Stern on his cell phone at around 8 am.

"She thinks she can just pick up her phone (and call me) and we'll be doing my radio show," said the amused Stern.

Apparently, Courtney has some trouble distinguishing between real life and the public persona, according to Howard's sidekick.

"He knows how to be Howard Stern when he's off the air," snapped Robin Quivers, curtly.

As the morning conversation continued, Stern asked Love, "so what's going to happen to you?"

"I'm gonna have to retire," replied Courtney, tongue in cheek.

On injured Daily News photographer Dara Kushner, Love was equally snarky, "her nose was grazed, but let's go out in an ambulance anyway."

And Love didn't mince words when it came to backing Howard on his FCC problems.

"Clear Channel can eat me -- give me some (props) for slamming Clear Channel for you."

"... That's very brave," replied Stern.

The two bantered about an upcoming Love appearance on Jay Leno. in which she hopes to come off as normal to America.

"Leno is Letterman Lite," attacked Stern, who has been feuding with the former Doritos pitchman since The Tonight Show swiped Stuttering John Melendez.

Finally, when Stern asked about the homeless man who suckled at her breast, she explained, "we were mobbed at a Wendy's -- I don't remember, he grabbed my body." Then, "how about I punch him and go to jail?"

Then when asked what would happen in her custody battle as a result of the offending picture, Courtney snapped, "don't you go near Francis (Bean), she's fine."

At "press" time, the two were still chatting it up; she had grabbed a cab from her loft came to the studio.
Al Franken: Democratic Party Bouncer

From time to time Al Franken likes to kick a little bit o' Ass -- Republican ass, playa. The other day he used just the right mix of hard power and soft power, so to speak, in a short term domestic conflagration. Didn't you know that Howard Dean's aggro speeches would one day cause some kind of ruckus sooner or later? The New York Times Magazine(subscription required) captures the frenzied mood surrounding Al Franken's rather "punchy" ass-whipping of a confused protester at a Howard Dean campign rally with the appropriate amount of gusto.

But let me set a little ambiance for you, cornbread, cause that's the sorrt of thing Bloggers like to do. (plays Europe's The Final Countdown) It is "the Sunday before the nation's first primary," at a Howard Dean rally in downtown Manchester. The New England winter is crisp; the mood is one of fighting back. The Republicans have been eating the lunch of the Democratic Party since Ca-lee-fohrn-eeaaah, and the midterm elections and, of course, the Supreme's 5/4 dance number that handed the Bushies the keys to the White House.

Anyhoo: Our man on the scene, the NY Times writer, one Russell Shorto, feels it important for us to know -- at the outset -- that Franken's tushy is the stuff of the Gods, ambrosial:

"From 1966 to 1969, Franken was a member of the varsity wrestling team at his high school in Hopkins, Minn. Six years after graduation, when he showed up in New York to begin work as a writer on the first season of 'Saturday Night Live,' he was still almost as much an athlete as a comedian. ''He seemed like a total jock,'' says the comedian Laraine Newman, who was a member of the original cast. 'He always had a football in his hands when they were writing. And he had this very defined musculature. His butt was like a cut basketball. Which, you know, you don't normally see in comedy writers.'"

No, no, one doesn't, Mr. Shorto, to be sure; but The Corsair's former girlfriends don't complain, we are in our early 30s after all is all I'm saying.

Anyhoo: Let's bring on the rassling. Now for a spot of the old rough and tumble, Harvard-style --- bring-it-on!:

"Onstage, Martin Sheen speaks first, then Dean's demure wife, then the suddenly embattled former governor of Vermont himself. Sometime after Dean begins taking questions from the audience, a manic-looking heckler starts to heckle, accusing Dean of 'covering up for Dick Cheney.' He gets louder. A couple of spindly members of Dean's security team approach him uncertainly; he swings his arms and keeps shouting. It goes on for several minutes and seems to be veering toward actual violence. Dean, the media, the members of the audience: nobody knows what to do."

Oh, but our man Franken does, does he ever (wicked Rumsfeldian gleam in eyes):

"At this moment Franken turns, cocks his head slightly, gives that well-known magnified, tortoise-shell-framed gaze and says: 'I think the two of us can get him out. You wanna do it?' After a pause that is meant to be emphatic, I say, 'No.' But it's too late: he's off, in rumpled jeans and a big down jacket, plowing up the aisle."

Al Franken's old school like that. When he cocked his head you just knew: it was on like Gray Poupon. The Corsair imagines the Harvard educated simian, rumpled jeans and big brown jacket ruffling in the wind, the accoustical sounds of Six Million Dollar Man bionic sound effects stacattoed in the background (da-da-da-da-da ...) as Franken-in-slow-motion-bolt approaches that unfortunate looney, head low and spectacles fogged:

"By this time there is a confused scrum around the heckler, who is holding his ground and still ranting. Franken hits the floor, wedges himself among a couple dozen legs and puts the man in a wrestling hold, grabbing him at the knees."

One can almost buckle at the beauty of the writing at this New York Times sports section style commentary, like that unfortunate freak, tumbling down the slippery slope into Prose Heaven. Oh, tell us more:

"That destabilizes him, and others now quickly push him down the aisle and out the side door of the theater."

Oh Al, destabilize the GOP; destabilize!:

"Franken gets up, looking dazed; his glasses are snapped in two. He's quickly swarmed by confused but excited reporters who want to know, like, what was he doing?"

He's kicking ass and taking names, gentlemen, Harvard-style. Snapped spectacles be damned! The Democrats are mad as hell and they're not gonna take it.

Read the rest of the NY Times profile.

Way to go, Big Man; at the upcoming Boston Dem convention, Big Al will be taking on a Larouchie with a weak knee. Be there or be square ...















A Little of the Old In and Out

In: According to NBC News Chief Foreign Affairs correspondent Andrea Mitchell on the Chris Matthews Show on Sunday, Hillary has let it be known in the Senate cloak room that she wants the Kerry Veep slot. Now, if only she had a strong military background, pull in the Southwest and was a prisoner of war in Korea. Then she'd be idea. Oh, and if only she were a Republican.

Out: Alexandra Robbins. She is following up her best selling expose of Skull and Bones with Pledged: an expose of sororities in general. If only she had been tapped as a Bonesman, none of this vitriol would be streaming out of the presses.


In: In an odd flash of anger, Ebert and pony boy Roeper unleashed some of their own vitriol on Hollywood on their tv show last week:

Roeper: "(The Soprano's) is better than more than 50% of the feature movies we review here."

Ebert: " --When you say more than 50%?"

Roeper: "Probably more like 75%"

Ebert: (stares angrily into the camera) "Yeah."

What the fuck?!

(*shivering* sips Cutty Sark) Ahh, the pause that refreshes!

Out: Was Dick Clarke's 60 Minutes chat with Leslie Stahl an infomercial? Well, I notes that it would have problems with the right on Saturday, but not this particular set of problems. For one, Clarke's career was pretty much down the drains because he falsely predicted that the next terror war would be cyber, rather than the old fashioned variety. But does that make 60 Mins last night and infomercial? Matt Drudge seems to think so:

"60 MINUTES pro Lesley Stahl is said to have been aware of the conflict before the program aired.

[CBSNEWS.COM did add a disclaimer to its Internet coverage of the book over the weekend: "Against All Enemies," which is being published Monday by FREE PRESS, a subsidiary of SIMON & SCHUSTER. Both CBSNews.com and SIMON & SCHUSTER are units of VIACOM." And CBS RADIO did carry a disclaimer in its news coverage of the book.]

" ... Earlier this year, it was Stahl who also profiled another author on 60 MINUTES -- for another book owned by VIACOMCBS -- without any disclaimer!

"'The Price of Loyalty' by former Treasury Secretary, turned Bush critic, Paul O'Neill was financed, produced and released [and rolled-out at CBSNEWS] by VIACOM's SIMON & SCHUSTER.

"Coming in future weeks, best-selling author Bob Woodward is set to release his PLAN OF ATTACK, a fresh look at the Bush White House.

"Will the Woodward VIACOMSIMON&SCHUSTER product debut on: VIACOMSIMON&SCHUSTERCBS's 60 MINUTES?

[EDITOR'S NOTE: STAHL'S INTERVIEW WITH CLARKE WAS THE TOP-RATED SHOW OF SUNDAY NIGHT WITH 11.9 RATING/19 SHARE.]

Hey, Drudgie poo, do you think you can you tone it down with the all caps, please? I had a long night of drinking. Thanks much.

In: Big Knickers ... huh? ... no, Sir, I am not a racist, I said Big Knickers, not ... oh, never mind.

Anyhoo: as Kylie Minogue notes in Blender via Ananova, thongs are out, and big knickers are in, ostensibly to cover up all those buttock implants going around:

"Kylie told Blender: 'Big knickers are back. Women want comfort again. And I don't mean the sort of underwear our grandmothers wore.

"'It'll be more French and sexy, but definitely bigger. The G-string is last year's thing. The thong is gone! The flossing has finished!'"

Out: Airheaded but sexy older woman Deborah Norville got spanked by Howie Kurtz on Reliable Sources on Sunday. No, not like that, get your minds out of the gutter.

Apparently, Norville's gang on her new MSNBC talkfest (stinkfest?) mistook an Onion story for a real news story and ran with it. Embarassingly, Norville's peeps denied that they had gotten it wrong, telling Howard Kurtz when he asked for comment that they were in on the joke, meant the story as a spoof and simply forget to credit the Onion. Riiiight. When we want a sexy older woman, we'll go with Old Hag.

In: Doing things naked. Last week we noted Darryl Hannah and Carmen Electra, suspiciously close to upcoming projects, admitted that they like to jog and play drums, respectively -- in the buff!

Add Alanis Morrisette's name to the bunch. She notes that she likes to walk around naked:

"The singer who appeared naked in video Thank U, said: "I walk around naked all the time. I'm a leave-the-bathroom-door-open nudist, which is sometimes disconcerting for my friends."

"She says even her parents share her habit of discarding their clothes at home. She added: 'We all walked around naked when it was appropriate, there wasn't a lot of shame to it.'

"She says her parents were on the 'periphery of hippiedom' although she herself didn't totally embrace the hippie lifestyle, says the Daily Record."

Oh yeah, she just happens to have So-Called Chaos coming out on May 17 on Maverick Records, but that's just a coincidence, peeps.

fin

(we'll always be together; together in electric dreams)





Saturday, March 20, 2004

Al Franken: Democratic Party Bouncer

From time to time Al Franken likes to kick a little bit o' Ass -- Republican ass, playa. The other day he used just the right mix of hard power and soft power, so to speak, in a short term domestic conflagration. Didn't you know that Howard Dean's aggro speeches would one day cause some kind of ruckus on the left hand side? The New York Times Magazine(subscription required) captures the frenzied mood surrounding Al Franken's rather "punchy" ass-whipping of a confused protester at a Howard Dean campign rally with the appropriate amount of gusto.

But let me set a little ambiance for you, cornbread, cause that's the sorrt of thing Bloggers like to do. (plays Europe's The Final Countdown) It is "the Sunday before the nation's first primary," at a Howard Dean rally in downtown Manchester. The New England winter is crisp; the mood is one of fighting back. The Republicans have been eating the lunch of the Democratic Party since Ca-lee-fohrn-eeaaah, and the midterm elections and, of course, the Supreme's 5/4 dance number that handed the Bushies the keys to the White House.

Anyhoo: Our man on the scene, the NY Times writer, one Russell Shorto, feels it important for us to know -- at the outset -- that Franken's tushy is the stuff of the Gods, ambrosial, a hasty pudding if you will:

"From 1966 to 1969, Franken was a member of the varsity wrestling team at his high school in Hopkins, Minn. Six years after graduation, when he showed up in New York to begin work as a writer on the first season of 'Saturday Night Live,' he was still almost as much an athlete as a comedian. ''He seemed like a total jock,'' says the comedian Laraine Newman, who was a member of the original cast. 'He always had a football in his hands when they were writing. And he had this very defined musculature. His butt was like a cut basketball. Which, you know, you don't normally see in comedy writers.'"

No, no, one doesn't, Mr. Shorto, to be sure; but The Corsair's former girlfriends don't complain, we are in our early 30s after all is all I'm saying.

Anyhoo: Let's bring on the rassling. Now for a spot of the old rough and tumble, Harvard-style --- bring-it-on!:

"Onstage, Martin Sheen speaks first, then Dean's demure wife, then the suddenly embattled former governor of Vermont himself. Sometime after Dean begins taking questions from the audience, a manic-looking heckler starts to heckle, accusing Dean of 'covering up for Dick Cheney.' He gets louder. A couple of spindly members of Dean's security team approach him uncertainly; he swings his arms and keeps shouting. It goes on for several minutes and seems to be veering toward actual violence. Dean, the media, the members of the audience: nobody knows what to do."

Oh, but our man Franken does, does he ever (wicked Rumsfeldian gleam in eyes):

"At this moment Franken turns, cocks his head slightly, gives that well-known magnified, tortoise-shell-framed gaze and says: 'I think the two of us can get him out. You wanna do it?' After a pause that is meant to be emphatic, I say, 'No.' But it's too late: he's off, in rumpled jeans and a big down jacket, plowing up the aisle."

Al Franken's old school like that. When he cocked his head you just knew: it was on like Gray Poupon. The Corsair imagines the Harvard educated simian, rumpled jeans and big brown jacket ruffling in the wind, the accoustical sounds of Six Million Dollar Man bionic sound effects stacattoing in the background (da-da-da-da-da ...) as Franken-in-slow-motion-bolt approaches said interruptor, head low and spectacles fogged in anticipation of crunk:

"By this time there is a confused scrum around the heckler, who is holding his ground and still ranting. Franken hits the floor, wedges himself among a couple dozen legs and puts the man in a wrestling hold, grabbing him at the knees."

Oof! One can almost buckle at the beauty of the writing at this New York Times sports section style commentary, like that unfortunate freak, tumbling down the slippery slope into Prose Heaven. Oh, tell us more:

"That destabilizes him, and others now quickly push him down the aisle and out the side door of the theater."

Oh Al, destabilize the GOP; destabilize!:

"Franken gets up, looking dazed; his glasses are snapped in two. He's quickly swarmed by confused but excited reporters who want to know, like, what was he doing?"

He's kicking ass and taking names, gentlemen, Harvard-style. Snapped spectacles be damned! The Democrats are mad as hell and they're not gonna take it.

Read the rest of the NY Times profile.

Way to go, Big Man; at the upcoming Boston Dem convention, Big Al will be taking on a Larouchie with a weak knee. Then on to The Boston Convention where Al competes in a three way dance with John "da crippler" Irving and Don "da spoiler" Rumsfeld. Be there or be square ...

Pret a Wafer[Reuters]
Jean-Paul Gaultier conjures a surrealist wardrobe made entirely from bread.

Upper East Side Barbie [NY Post]
"It was hard not to love Egon, but living in Europe was really hard for me. When you don't speak the language fluently, you're just a Barbie doll."

The Face of South African Fashion Week [Vogue]
Charlize Theron will boost South African Fashion Week's international presence.

Bomshell 60 Minutes: Bush Planed to Bomb Iraq Before Afghanistan!

CBS is running teasers for a 60 Minutes that looks to be brimming with zest, so those wily liberals Martha's Vinyard Way will, no doubt, be hoisting some rather indifferent red wines to their pagan gods come Memorial Day. Let the pounding begin: the liberals are mad as hell and they are not going to take it anymore. Apparently, one Richard Clarke, who has advised four presidents (and was Bill Clinton's counter-terror point man in the National Security Council), throws light upon the current administration's reaction to terrorism in his new book, "Against All Enemies."

Oh, It's on like Gray Poupon! (rubs hands together)

The 60 Minutes website teaser reads:

"Former White House terrorism advisor Richard Clarke tells Correspondent Lesley Stahl that on Sept. 11, 2001, and the day after - when it was clear al Qaeda had carried out the terrorist attacks - the Bush administration was considering bombing Iraq in retaliation.

" ... Clarke was surprised that the attention of administration officials was turning toward Iraq when he expected the focus to be on al Qaeda and Osama bin Laden.

"'They were talking about Iraq on 9/11. They were talking about it on 9/12,' says Clarke.

"The top counter-terrorism advisor, Clarke was briefing the highest government officials, including President Bush and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks.

"'Rumsfeld was saying we needed to bomb Iraq ... We all said, but no, no. Al Qaeda is in Afghanistan, recounts Clarke, and Rumsfeld said, There aren't any good targets in Afghanistan and there are lots of good targets in Iraq. I said, Well, there are lots of good targets in lots of places, but Iraq had nothing to do with [the September 11 attacks].'"

(The Corsair takes a sip of The Cutty Sark) Ahhh ... The pause that refreshes.

Anyhoo: The CBS site continues:

"Clarke goes on to explain what he believes was the reason for the focus on Iraq.

"'I think they wanted to believe that there was a connection [between Iraq and al Qaeda], but the CIA was sitting there, the FBI was sitting there, I was sitting there, saying, We've looked at this issue for years. For years we've looked and there's just no connection, says Clarke.

"Clarke also tells Stahl that the president isn't doing the best job fighting terrorism.

�'Frankly, I find it outrageous that the president is running for re-election on the grounds that he�s done such great things about terrorism,' says Clarke in Sunday's interview. 'He ignored it. He ignored terrorism for months, when maybe we could have done something to stop 9/11. Maybe. We�ll never know."

Maybe; but here's what we do know: one, Clarke is hawking a book, and, like Paul O'Neill before him, he will be savaged by the Right. Two, Clarke is damaged goods: he bet the farm on cyberterrorism being the next frontier, and he lost big time. His job and his credibility were burned in the intelligence community. This book makes him look vengeful. Three, they will try to paint Leslie Stahl, a fucking excellent journalist, as obsessed with getting Bush.

Mitigating factors: One, this will feed into the New York Left Media nexus. Howard Stern has been beating at Bush mightily. Expect Stern to use the 60 Minutes as an extended discussion on corruptions in the Bush Administration. Expect the New York Times editorial board and op ed columnists to follow suit. And expect Kerry and some congressmen -- perhaps even, hmmmmmm John McCain -- to get involved, making the President look bad. Hmmm: John McCain may end up being the big winner of this 60 Minutes drop off into Spring. And the race for the President of the last standing superpower has barely begun!

Finally, concerning CBS, a fascinating little chestnut if you are a media geek like me has been revealed. Apparently Eisnehower asked then CBS President Frank Stanton to run a a federal communications agency in the event that a Soviet military attack killed major US officials. This was in the dark days of the Cold War when the Soviets had successfully launched Sputnik, e4ffectively beating America into space, and savaging national morale. Dark Days indeed:

"A few weeks after the Soviets launched the first manmade satellite in 1957, shattering America's sense of security, CBS President Frank Stanton was summoned to the White House to see President Eisenhower.

"Stanton knew his friend was agonizing over how to respond to Sputnik and the terrorizing thought that permeated America: Had the Soviets gained a huge first-strike advantage in the nuclear arms race?

"But Stanton learned Eisenhower also was wrestling with how best to ensure the U.S. government could function if a Soviet attack wiped out many American leaders.

"Stanton, who had no experience or ambitions in government, was taken aback when the president asked if he would be willing to oversee a federal communications agency after such an attack.

"'I was surprised and startled by the breadth of the assignment,' said the 96-year-old Stanton, who lives in Boston.

"Nervous about the awesome task of keeping the nation's telephone, radio and television systems operating after an attack, Stanton said he nevertheless 'agreed to do my chore.'"

Crazy. CBS and the Preidency.





Plum Sykes Strikes Out: Aaron Gell in W Magazine

From Aaron Gell's review of Plum Sykes' Bergdorf Blondes, from the April 2004 W:

"Fashionista-cum-muckraker Plum Sykes, who apparently spent years researching her novel Bergdorf Blondes (Miramax Books) by going deep undercover as a glamorous It Girl. The story is told in the voice of a shallow, narcissistic features writer for a major fashion magazine -- a voice Sykes nails with uncanny verisimilitude. Unfortunately, while she name drops all the requisite labels, like the crack fashion caption writer that she once was, the plot she hangs them on is thinner than a Louboutin heel, and nowhere near as sturdy. It centers on the breakup of the heroines' engagement (her moody beau is said to be a stand-in for Sykes' former fiance, Damian Loeb) and her subsequent quest for another PH (prospective husband) who has his very own PJ (private jet)." Charmed, I'm sure.

This Andrew Gell can write. His snark is pure.

A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Nakedness in general. Today on Ananova, we learn, via The Sun, superhottie Carmen Electra reveals that she plays drums naked with her husband, the bloated angel from another dimension Dave Navarro, "We jam together - he plays guitar and I drum and we even play naked."

Yesterday on Ananova, via Jane, it was revealed that Daryl Hannah also likes to be naked -- when jogging, "Basically, we're all apes, right? I like to be unfettered whenever possible - if it's a beautiful day.

"It's not like I throw off my clothes and start running out of control," she told Jane magazine.

Call me cynical ("cynical!"), but do these frisky revelations come a little too close to their projects, Starsky and Hutch and Till Death do us Part for Electra, and Kill Bill, Volume II for Hannah?

Whatever the case, Nudity: it's the new black.

Out: Lenny Kravitz. For his new and pretentiously titled album (whispers) "Baptism," Lenny steals Prince's look finally completing a process of leeching off the creative energies of his better that has been ongoing for about a decade.

There has always been a strange hero worship thing going on, unrequited, from Lenny to Prince, ever since Kravitz borrowed the royal falsetto on his first album 'Let Love Rule.'

The heavy influence, or, as Harold Bloom might pronounce it, the anxiety of influence that Prince exerts over Kravitz has finally broken the proverbial camel's back.

Somewhere Nicole Kidman is laughing at Kravitz's bad processed hair and cheesy sunglasses worn indoors.

In: Taking Potshots at Actors. Snark seeps it's way into the strangest places, like mainstream publications such as the ultranice People Magazine, of all places. In their Picks and Pans section they pan Taking Lives, the new Angelina Jolie flic. Note the snarky little slice at Ethan Hawke in the last line, tossed off, as it were, as if it was an aside penned by Uma Thurman:

"Jolie, whose lips are monumental enough to serve as a weopon in her own right, strides through as if she learned all she knows from Angie Dickinson on Police Woman. Hawke, even when trying to project good-guy appeal as an art dealer helping to ID a suspect, gives off a weasel scent."

What-the-fuck?!

Out: Malnourished Milan runway model tushes. Like Johnny Depp, I am partial to high water booty. Butt Lifter Jeans. A girl with an ass is so very in (excuse the pun on the bum). Finally, after years of Howard Stern feeding the self consciousness of women and their hind quarters, the BET sensibility is winning out, to the consternation of the Long Island contracters crowd. Men want a curvy ass, like Monica Bellucci's, which is enough to make a grown man cry. Buttock implant surgery is also big, thanks to JLo. Voluptuousness.

In: And speaking of an ample tushy, Athina Roussel, nee Athina Onaissis, and her polo boytoy Alvaro Alfonso de Miranda, or, "Doda," are very in. Also the dad of the richest little girl in the world, Thierry Roussel, had some good news on February 20:

"An Athens court yesterday cleared the father of Athina Onassis, Thierry Roussel, and the former Roussel family spokesman Alexis Mantheakis of perjury charges. The trial followed a suit lodged by Onassis Foundation President Stelios Papadimitriou, who had been accused of slandering Roussel. Papadimitrou told the court yesterday that he had never maintained that Roussel took drugs or acted lewdly in front of his daughter."

Out: Beating around the bush. Career challenged Amanda de Cadenet wanted her multimillionaire former boyfriend Keanu Reeves back, so she took the initiative, and (allegedly) concoted an offer he couldn't refuse.

According to W:

"KEANU REEVES is back with former fiancee AMANDA DE CADENET thanks to an 11-year-old cupid. The pair rekindled their romance after the Matrix star
was asked to attend a school play starring Amanda's daughter ATLANTA.
'If it weren't for Atlanta playing cupid Keanu and Amanda would have
remained friends, but have gone their separate ways,' confesses a source.
'She has helped them fall in love again.'"

In 1995 the huntress stalked her prey, holding an impromptu Keanu Film Festival with Courtney Love, one evening. One year later, they were going out. But then they broke up. And things hadn't been the same since.

And (wink, wink) out of the blue (wink, wink), the prococious eleven year old Atlanta calls Keanu and asks him to attend her school function (wink, wink), "why don't you go with my mommy." (wink, wink)

I saw The Parent Trap, and it makes a clever Disney movie, but I refuse to believe than any child other than those born in France are that socially sophisticated to engineer that kind of romantic mojo.

Well, we can't playa hate, Amanda did good for herself.





Friday, March 19, 2004

Courtney Love at Bowery Ballroom

I'm hung over, I've got a bit of a cold, it was packed, but I enjoyed last night's show of Court Love at the Bowery Ballroom. She came on late, like almost two hours late, but that's to be expected. Courtney's singing sucked, except for "Voices Carry," which I thought was beautiful in it's own twisted/haunted way. But one doesn't go to a Court Love performance nowadays -- or at least last night -- to hear the music. We wanted to be a part of the drama. Gawker had this link of Courtney getting her boob sucked outside of Wendy's in New York Wednesday, thanks Gawker(you'll not that the booby sucker is reading the Village Voice, which at no point in time leaves his hands when providing said ministrations; a discriminating counterculturalist he).

Anyhoo: what can I say, I went there more for the spectacle and maybe to see her in panties and I was not disappointed, although I wish I was closer to the stage, the Bowery Ballroom was packed (Ethan Hawke and David Blaine, Kurt Loder and the MTV crew, Debbie Harry, Soprano star Little Steven, among others, were there) and spacious.

Honorary black man Roger Friedman at Fox 411 reports that NY Daily news photog Dara Kushner was hurt when Court crowdsurfed.

And the NY Post sums it all up:

"Before the show she quieted the audience and told them, 'If any of you plans on getting injured tonight, please go outside and get arrested now.'

"She struggled through her set, at one point saying, 'My voice has gone to hell. That's what a jail cell does to it.'

"During one song she stripped off her red velvet dress and sang in her bra and panties. She then covered up with a T-shirt that read 'Eat My F-.'"

(Update: Oh la vida loca, Courtney is at it again, playing to the cameras, her whole life on film; via Gawker via BluBox, Court is playing guitar outside a window in NYC basking in the attention. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down thy skanky hair ...)



A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Cypress Hill. An excerpt from their interview in the April 2004 FHM. Only a rock star can get away with smoking weed past the age of 30 and not look like a silly punk ass:

FHM: You worked with Bob Marley's son Damian on "Smoke it Up" for the new album. What's his bud like?

Muggs: It's the Schwarzenegger of weed. It's scientifically genetically enhanced marijuana to the 10th power. He went toke for toke with us. When it comes to ganga, he's got pedigree, but we've got ghetto lungs. We're used to blunts and shwag weed.

B-Real: We're all mellow dudes.

FHM: Do you like to garden?

Muggs: B-Real created his own marijuana called Kush. That's the one-hitter quitter, homey: hydroponic steroided up.

Do you like to garden. Who came up with these questions?

Out: The Ladykillers gets a bad review from The Hollywood Reporter, which says:

"(Tom) Hanks' mere presence will, of course, deliver a solid opening weekend. And the brothers' faithful fans might find enough things to like to sustain a decent boxoffice performance thereafter, especially among older audiences.

"The premise remains the same. Once more, a professor with dubious credentials rents a room from an unsuspecting old lady. He and his cronies, all claiming to be musicians, use the house as a base of operations to commit a nefarious criminal deed. Once more, however, circumstances and the old lady foil them at every turn.

"Only instead of the English suburbs, the Coens take us deep into the Southern Bible Belt. Professor G.H. Dorr (Hanks) rents a room from a black Baptist churchgoing lady named Marva Munson (Irma P. Hall), who will allow neither 'hippity-hop' music nor smoking in her domicile. With the cover of practicing medieval instruments in her basement, Dorr and his gang tunnel from that basement for several blocks to the cash storage office of a riverboat gambling casino.

"The crew Dorr assembles gives new meaning to the expression 'thick as thieves.' Marlon Wayans' Gawain MacSam is the casino 'inside' man, whose temper and foul mouth just naturally invite catastrophe, not to mention slaps by Mrs. Munson."

Hmmm, actually that sounds kind of fun to me. And who ever thought Tom Hanks and Marlon Wayans would ever make a film together. Next thing you're going to tell me fucking Spielberg will helm the next Carrot Top flic.

In: National Review editor Rich Lowry versus radio personality Al Franken in Spinsanity debate. The conservative New Criterion blog discusses it thusly:

"There is some good in this. Franken devotees, who probably have never read National Review, will tune in expecting their man to triumph. What they will find is a middle-aged schoolyard bully. Franken claims to have challenged Lowry to a 'fight in [his] parking garage,' and then slyly questions Lowry's heterosexuality."

Franken claims:

"Rich said on C-SPAN that Democrats had sissified politics; I challenged him to a fight in my parking garage; he demurred like a little girl; I wrote about the incident honestly in my book; he wrote a column that gave his readers a totally misleading characterization of my book, which he later admitted he hadn�t read; I challenged Rich to another fight; he demurred again, but challenged me to a contest of ideas. So here we are."

Can you say mid-life crisis? Can you say slow news day?

Out: That fake bottled "pure mineral" water Dassani is very very out. Jonathan Prynn of the Evening Standard writes:

"Coca-Cola today recalled every bottle of its controversial "pure" mineral water Dasani in a cancer scare.

"It came after the 95p bottles of water were found to be contaminated with illegal levels of bromate, a potentially cancer causing chemical.

"Coca-Cola said all 500,000 bottles of the carbonated water, which is drawn from public water (ed note: tap water) supplies in Sidcup, will be cleared from stores within 24 hours."

The thing that really freaks me out about this? Dasani is the second top selling bottled water brand in the US. How the fuck does a multinational corporation make fucking million, possibly billions, on bottled water. And why isn't any news team really hammering Coke on their smoke and mirrors. Oh, I guess it is because Coke is a major advertiser on just about everything. Sweet.

In: This is really and truly the most offensive and perverse stories I have ever read online, and that is saying something. Please do not read this if you are at work, it is just that twisted. I cannot say any more, except that I will pray to the redeeming lord Jesus on behalf of the teller of this story.

Out: Condoleeza Rice becomes another of the pretty politicians that Rupert Murdoch collects, like Newt Gingrich and Baroness Maggie Thatcher, when she speaks at his little conference. The Guardian writes:

"The four-day event started last night, and Mr Howard is due to speak at 9pm tonight (British time). Ms Rice, President Bush's national security advisor, is to address the conference by video link."

Great.

In: Bushmeat. Just what is bushmeat? And no, it is not some pornographic reference to our Commander-in-Chief. Perish the thought. Bushmeat is the practice of eating primates, mostly by impoverished populations. In addition to leading towards the extinction of whole species of monkeys and apes, the Nature Science update writes, "The practice of hunting and eating bushmeat in Central Africa is infecting people with a new virus."

As a Ugandan-born writer I'd like to register my shock at this practice of noshing on cute monkeys, although I don't quite know what precisely was in that "dirty water hot dog" I ate at lunch in Midtown this afternoon. I could be a hypocrite on this matter.




The C-Span Jones

Have you ever had a (makes quote gestures into the air) "love jones"? (looks around, embarassed) I know I've had. But have you ever had a (makes quote gestures again) "C-Span Jones"? Good: that makes you psychologically healthy. No normal person would have a C-Span Jones; no normal person should have a C-Span Jones. Normal people don't write philosophical discorse on Brian Lamb's even temperament and boundless curiosity over the arcana of just whom James Knox Polk was "polking." Ruth Marcus of the Washington Post gives us the symptoms, which, alas, were diagnosed in her own little ditty called "Confessions of a C-Span Junkie":

"A C-SPAN story, embarrassing but true: I climbed on the treadmill at the gym the other morning, clicked the channels of the attached TV down to the C-SPAN zone and was delighted -- honest! -- to find the Senate Budget Committee marking up the fiscal 2005 budget resolution. Still more embarrassing: It wasn't even live, but a replay of a session the day before. Unfortunately, by the time I finished my paltry few miles, the majority staff director had barely begun his presentation. So I stood on the motionless treadmill to watch the rest of the proceedings until, finally, I felt so self-conscious that I turned it up to a slow walk.

"Mine is admittedly an extreme case. You know you've got it bad when that day's segment of the Lyndon Johnson tapes is one you've heard before. Or when you don't watch just the hearing but are glued to the cinema verite footage of all the milling around before and after. Or when you find the Senate quorum call, with its accompanying classical music, a relaxing interlude -- what passes for a Zen moment in Washington.

"In our house, C-SPAN is a family affair. I began to suspect that C-SPAN radio was playing a little too often in our car when I was out with my 8-year-old daughter listening to -- what else -- the Florida Democratic Party winter meeting, and I realized that she could identify all the presidential candidates. By voice. The year before, she became so captivated by the Senate Judiciary Committee debate on the Charles Pickering nomination that she woke up the next morning demanding to know how the vote had gone on 'that judge guy.'"

Oh dear sweet jesus, why did this woman have to involve her child in her madness? (takes a sip of Cutty Sark ) ... ah, the pause that refreshes.

Was there a need to turn to C-Span radio? Are there not enough useless C-Span channels -- how about C-Span 3, the segment of our drama when we follow the "C-Span bus" around theb country to visit the birthplaces of the Presidents! Oh dear-sweet-jesus ...

Anyhoo: It's not going to be smooth going for this baby, I want to let you know right now. A C-Span Jones is not to be tossed aside lightly, my dear friend, it must be cast off with great force! But sure, it will be tough sailing: that inescapable craving of counting yeas and nays for cloture before leaving the house on a date will creep up the spine, like a monkey on the back. The delirium tremens that accompanies missing a think tank meeting of the Cato Institute on the reform of Social Security will be acute, like the sharp burn of a crack pipe against ready fingers. And, of course, the jones at rushing to see a riveting interview with the latest biographer of Millard Fillmore; ahh, not unlike the chemically-bubblegummy smell of exhaled crystal meth ... priceless.

C-Span is like crack, only more addictive, more sinister, and pipeless -- Ruth Marcus of the Washington Post hath wrought some awesome shit, what? Introducing her baby to a life of geeky political junkiness, adrift in the wilderness of Omnibus Transportation Committee hearings. Your bad, Ruthie; you're very very bad.


Thursday, March 18, 2004

Hey Graydon, where are the African Americans?

Several years back I altogether stopped sending out my annual "Letter to the Editor" email criticizing Vanity Fair for the lack of African Americans, especially on the cover, and especially in their 'Hollywood issue.' It was a futile quest to get someone to listen and actually do something more than send out an obligatory response to reader email backed up with naught else but hot air. I saved this little chestnut, though, I think it was my last attempt at satisfaction, from the long suffering and saintly Heather Fink, dated April 24, 2000:

"Dear Mr. Mwangaguhunga,

"Thank you very much for your letter to the editor. We have received
several
letters regarding this matter, and I will be sure to address this point
with the
appropriate editors here. I appreciate your input and hope that you
continue
expressing your opinions to Vanity Fair.

Sincerely,

Heather Fink"

Greeeaaat. I'm glad I shared.

Of course, my problem is not with Heather Fink, who was polite, but couldn't change the situation, no, my issue was with her boss Graydon Carter, who I snark on from time to time in this blog, but for whom I ultimately hold no hard feelings against. Look -- there is no one suggesting that anything is wrong with Graydon on the issue of race, that's crazy talk. I'm just saying that Graydon is not representing African Americans on the cover of VF; and that smarts. It is his privilege as an editor, but it is a kind of stupid thing for a so-called libertarian to do to his legacy. Hollywood itself is not as white as Graydon paints it.

I just cannot believe that Matthew McConaughey and Gretchen Moll deserve covers more than Chris Rock, Chris Tucker, Halle Berry or even Janet Jackson.

I mean -- Fuck! -- even Sandra Bullock, she of the linebackerish looks -- got a cover!

The argument that nobody would ever make in public is that covers of African Americans sell less than covers of white celebs: Ruben Stoddard was the worst selling RS cover in 2003, and Serena Williams the worst selling SI cover in 2003. But last year's best/worst cover list is closing the gap of this very sad but true industry fact. I've worked in magazines for 9 years, I know the game.

But Roger Friedman of Fox 411 who I knighted an honorary black man on Monday does a fine job in explaining why VF was snubbed by the National Magazine Awards:

"'It's because Graydon's so obsessed with Hollywood,' said one insider, referring to Carter's sometimes embarrassing preference for celebrity profiles over actual journalism.

"Beth Kseniak, director of public relations for Vanity Fair, said, 'I can't remember when we didn't have a nomination. But we've been very fortunate in previous years and we congratulate the nominees.'

"One aspect of criticism about Vanity Fair is its obliviousness to cultures other than its own. In the March 'Hollywood' issue, 13 famous actresses graced the cover, not one of them African-American. As well, Vanity Fair has not featured an individual black person on the cover in several years.

"Kseniak responded, 'We were supposed to have Halle Berry, but she backed out at the last minute.'"

Okay VF, now is your opportunity. The African American contribution to the entertainment industry in America and the world is vast. Could you refelect that just a little bit more?


Get Your Courtney Love Tickets!!!

Observe firsthand the long slow, and possibly pantyless decline of Courtney Love into the abysmal gutter that is showbiz.

Guys, snatch them up fast -- shnell! -- cause tonight Courtney Love show is going to be on like Gray Poupon! Here. (link via the ultra cute Ultragrrrl) See you there. I got mine, I'm there: I'll be the one munching Oxycontin in the front row, heckling.

A Little of the Old In And Out

In: Kerry and McCain are Still Fucking With The President. I swear to God, it looks like Kerry and McCain met at his campaign bunker, and decided -- just for the hell of it -- to play jedi mind tricks on the President. Today, McCain sticks up for Kerry on Defense, AP reports, "Asked on NBC's 'Today' if he thought Kerry was weak on defense, McCain said: 'No, I do not believe that he is, quote, weak on defense. He's responsible for his voting record, as we are all responsible for our records, and he'll have to explain it. But, no, I do not believe that he is necessarily weak on defense."
Geez. Will someone get McCain and Kerry a room already?

Out: Kelly Ripa cameltoe, (via Stereogum via Nick Catchdubs)

In: Star Magazine's Victoria Gotti reporting on the breakup of mob wife actress Edie Falco and Stanley Tucci.

Victoria Gotti writes, "'They're not together,' Tucci's spokesman, confirmed to Star. But Star has learned the backstory behind the breakup. 'Edie says they split because Stanley felt guilty about leaving his wife and their kids,' a friend of the HBO mob mom tells Star exclusively. The couple paired up both onstage and off while co-starring in the 2002 Broadway play, Frankie and Johnny in the Claire de Lune, in which they appeared in the buff for five months.

"Right around that time, Tucci's seven-year marriage to Kate, with whom he has two children, came to an end. But now, Tucci (whose next project is 2004's The Terminal) may be heading back to the homestead: 'They'd been fighting about how much Stanley was spending time with his family,' the source reveals to Star. A few weeks ago, Tucci spent the whole day with his wife and kids in Central Park, the source adds. According to the source, he was supposed to meet Falco at chic Italian eatery Da Silvano that night, but instead dined with his wife. Falco was not happy and gave Tucci an ultimatum: 'Her or me.' A few days later, we're told, he told Edie, with whom he was living that it was over." Poor Carm ... men!

Ironically, Victoria Gotti, daughter to mobster John Gotti, also dumped her husband after he was found -- through racketeering wiretaps -- to be sleeping with his bookkeeper. Gotti and Falco have quite a bit in common.

Out: Dirty but beautiful. That's how a snitch describes the relationship of just released from police custody (link via Gothamist) Courtney Love and Chris Milk to Rush and Molloy:

"The duo met on the set of her video for 'Mono,' but evidence of their liaison did not surface until Love accidentally left her BlackBerry at a restaurant in December.

"Someone saw these really juicy, poetically pornographic things going back and forth between them," says our snitch. 'They were dirty, but beautiful. Just a sign of how much she loves him and how much he loves her." Courtney is a mess.

In: Running away from Kerry? According to Hans Nichols of The Hill, "A handful of (ed note: Southern and Midwestern)House Democrats who look vulnerable in November�s election, plan to run away from their party�s presumptive presidential nominee, Sen. John Kerry (D-Mass.), and will not endorse him.

"The holdouts are a minority of the 17 'frontliners' selected by the party leadership for member-to-member cash infusions, but their attitude reflects varying levels of comfort with how the New England senator will play in their districts."

And the really odd thing is, that Bush and Kerry are in a statistical dead heat right now.