A Little of the Old In and Out



In: Elijah Wood. Elijah Wood is not quite of this world. He is actually of an alternate dimension where everyone has pure, icy blue hypnotic eyes, and the beings that exist thereabouts communicate through a sort of musical telepathy. And on this magical plane, Vin Diesel and The Rock take their time reading scripts, and make thoughtful independent films, Kevin Spacey is dating Paris Hilton, Christian Slater is monogamous, and African-Americans occasionally make the cover of Vanity Fair.

Being otherworldish, Elijah is fascinated by how we earthbound mortals convey our sounds. The delicately waifish "Joy of Man's Desiring" above tried his hand at the turntable. And he found it to be to his liking. According to Indiewire:

"Actor Elijah Wood provided the tunes for the 'Hooligans' party one fine evening during the (South by Southwest Film Festival). At the point iW snapped this picture, it seemed few in the crowd had noticed the celeb DJ, but it was definitely noticed by the end of the night as everyone crowded up to the stage. Elijah played an eclectic mix of music (Lou Reed's 'Walk on the Wild Side' was among our personal favorites). He also starred in the film, directed by Lexi Alexander, which took both the audience and jury prizes at the fest."



Above: Guess who's the bitch.

Out: Bitch, RIP. The gang at Gawker note that Virginia Hefferman, also known by those in-the-know as "Heffy," (Okay, we just made that up) has gotten a little -- how shall we say this? -- "bitch happy." She's a little too loose. There's no reserve. The word is slowly losing its flavor.

Has the word "bitch" jumped the shark, is what I ask? If the Old Gray Lady is fixing her Victorian bifocals on the matter, then we surmise that it indeed has. Alas. "Bitch" was such a colorful addition to the language, especially when expressed, out of the side of one's mouth, in passing, at a man. Immediately following such an exchange, it is customary for the speaker to run away at tremendous speed.

First, self proclaimed fly bitch Cremora Simmons repeated ad nauseum in a Vanity Fair demolition job, the line, "I will beat a bitch's ass." And now this.

We will mourn the "bitch's" loss. (The Corsair lowers his velvet tricornet pirate's hat)

Bitch, RIP.

In: David Patrick Columbia. David told me at the lunch we had a while back that he was initially commissioned to work with Bobby Short on an autobiography. Ultimately, it came to naught, but today he writes -- wonderfully and personally -- about that experience in NYSocialDiary:

"I did not grow up black, obviously, but I did grow up in socio-economic and geographical circumstances which in many ways resembled the upbringing of Bobby Short. I too had a mother who could not depend on the support of her husband, and who could only rely on herself to feed, clothe, shelter and educate her brood. She too, like Bobby�s mother, was fortified with brute strength, and instilled in her children a sense of decorum, of 'something better,' and the ethics of hard work. I felt I could bring that to this second memoir of Bobby's. That would be my collaborative contribution. After much back and forth, over what turned out to be very little money (the publisher did not expect blockbuster sales from a memoir of a saloon singer with a very select, if sophisticated audience), I put my belongings in storage, gave up my apartment in Los Angeles, and drove to New York to begin the project.

"Almost from the beginning, the 'collaboration' was uneasy. We�d meet in late morning, interview, have lunch and go back to another hour of talk. His 'story' was richly harrowing � a little black boy who was out working in joints across America during the days of Jim Crow when child or no, he was rankly subjected to the cruel and hideous rules of segregation and the often daily bold, blunt, even life-threatening racial prejudice. And he had dozens, even hundreds of stories, especially with his almost total recall, of the insulting, demeaning, demoralizing, even violent realities of every day life. And yet here was this kid, with this huge natural talent, working those smokey, boozy saloons (and often chic nightclubs too), meeting some of the greatest performers of the day (many of whom were adoring fans of this prodigy � including Fats Waller, Louis Armstrong, the Duke), unbowed and by now supporting mama back home, making her life just a little bit easier than it had been before."

More.

Out: "Hendry" Hill. At the end of Goodfella's, it was his attraction to the "Bolivian Marching Powder" (Ahem) that sunk -- or, arguably, saved -- Hendry from his life of crime. And, it seems, Hendry still hasn't taken care of "that thing." (Averted Gaze) The addiction resurfaces. According to TheSmokingGun:

"Our favorite degenerate Mafia informant, Henry Hill, may live in the middle of nowhere--North Platte, Nebraska, to be exact-- but he apparently hasn't shaken some of the nastier habits he picked up while running with other associates of New York's Lucchese organized crime family. Hill, whose tumultuous life as a Mafia associate who turned government snitch was chronicled in Martin Scorsese's 'Goodfellas,' is facing felony charges for allegedly possessing cocaine and methamphetamine, according to County Court records.

"Last Friday, Hill, 61, waived a preliminary hearing in connection with the drug case, and the matter was bound over for trial. Hill, who didn't last long in the witness protection program following his mid-1980s mob defection, ran into trouble last August when drug paraphernalia was found in bags he brought to the North Platte airport (glass tubes found in Hill's luggage tested positive for coke and meth)."

In: Jerry Springer to Air America? Thus far, the formula has been to mix comedians with established radio talent, but now, Medialife Online reports that Springer may come to Air America. We can't really figure that match out, though; Springer could buy Air America a hundred times over. Why would he want to do morning drive? What does that lesser medium have to offer Jerry, who is an owner of his own long running tv show?

... Unless, of course, Springer is building a base among Progressives within the Democratic Party for a future Senate run (we are so fucking cynical and politically jaded) in the all-important electoral college rich Ohio; anyway:

"With Jerry Springer opting out of a run for Congress a few years back, he clearly has some extra time on his hands. He may fill it with more politics. Springer�s people are speaking with the liberal Air America radio network about a possible place in its lineup, according to a story first reported by the Cincinnati Enquirer and now making the rounds in other papers. Springer, who hosts a nationally syndicated TV show famous for its trashy topics, actually has had his own radio show in that market for about two months but is looking to go national. Springer would join an Air America lineup currently anchored by Al Franken."

Yuck.

"The Democrat and former Cincinnati mayor reportedly would take over a mid-morning slot. Air America currently airs on 50 stations around the country, but things didn�t always looks so promising. At one point last year two of its founders were forced out and some of the staff worked without salary. The nearly 1-year-old network then got new management and began to add more markets over the summer. "

Curious.

Out: Star Magazine. I feel blog-raped, quite frankly. Star Magazine used my American Pie curse piece idea this week (The Corsair posted in December, "The Curse of the American Pie," Star just published, "Is There a Curse of the American Pie;" Charmed, I'm sure). In the piece they've stolen virtually everything -- even the examples I used to make my case -- except my style. Kinda sleazy, Starguys.

Look, The Corsair does Star Magazine items all the time, at great length on occasion, and I always post links (often twice in the story if it is long) and give mad props where mad props are due. And I would have no problem with Star following up on something I reported on this blog, especially if I had found said story in another source, as in that case the story wouldn't be mine at all, I'd simply be a conveyor of the information. That happens all the time.

But ... taking a whole original idea of mine ... a riff of mine ... a Corsair creation ... and ... running with it without any credit is ... really kind of lame. Kinda thievy, actually. And I don't want to think that Star Magazine is entirely without any kind of journalistic ethos, but, I ask, at what point did I become a fucking unpaid generator of story ideas for Star Magazine? Stop that train, cause I want to get off.

We know you read this blog, Starpeople (The Corsair shakes a finger at Star Magazine), fly straight, be fair, and next time a little credit where credit is due. A little mention as to where the actual idea originated? Is that asking too much? Is that too 3AM in the morning, C-Span Ethics in Journalism Conference for you?

Just a little "The Corsair blog says ..." and, if it's not too much trouble (Averted Gaze), some linkage so people know who came up with the idea?

Grrr.

There. Thank you. We are done ranting now. Back to funny.

In: The Mile High Club. According to Ananova (according to FHM):

"John Travolta has revealed he is a member of the mile high club.

"Travolta, who pilots his own plane, says that he got carried away in the cockpit with his actress wife Kelly Preston.

"According to FHM he said: 'I just shut off the cockpit, let someone else fly, and we had our day. No more details necessary.'"

Too late. "Cockpit," "fly," "had our day"?

Too much information was already disclosed. Very bad visuals ensue. Jowls and paunchy midsection and "undercarriage" (Averted Gaze) squeezing like so much sausage ... into a room meant only for the most base of internal evacuations. All the while, the pilot's saucy gaze sleazily undresses Mrs. Travolta as she takes the walk of shame down the aisles. *The Corsair shudders* Pity Kelly Preston in all this.

We may just never fly again. We may never even jump, or take an elevator, or escalator again, thank you very much. John Travolta's aerial urges ... offend us vastly.

Out: Panty Snatchers. You know who you are, pantysnatcher! Freak! Nylon's party for D.E.B.S began pleasantly enough, according to Fashionweekdaily:

"Made Clothing designer Josh Madden (who is not in Good Charlotte) rolled up his sleeves. 'I have a Chanel tattoo,' he said, displaying black interlocking C�s on his forearm. 'The life of Coco Chanel is very inspirational to me�I really admire her. If she was around today, I�d stalk her, probably!'�

Talking Michaelangelo. Then, things took a darker turn:

" ... some petty crime did occur. The party�s gift bags were severely raided, with the April issue of Nylon and American Apparel panties snatched from virtually every bag."

We're not pointing any fingers at anyone, but Jordana Brewster was in attendance. (Kidding!)

In: The Zulkey Interview. The thoroughly delightful Claire Zulkey interviews me on the subject of blogging and media. If you're interested check it out here.