Friday, March 31, 2006
As a defense mechanism against his natural nemesis the papparazi, the clever DJAM wheels his wafer-thin mate Nicole Ritchie sideways, thus rendering her momentarily invisible to cameras. (image via aolcelebrity)
Skeevy Hollywood bottomfeeder Jimmy Wood feasting, once again, off of the vitality of the city's naive but ambitious youth. (image via wireimage)
That's just Carmen Electra's uncomplicated way of saying, "Nice to meet you." (image via ohnotheydidnt)
Jason Binn, for trangressing against The Gods, was sentenced to perpetually "case the universe" for someone more powerful to be pictured with. (image via wireimage)
(image via mccullagh)
In: Peter Chernin. As the integration of MySpace into Newscorp continues apace (Fox Interactive Media is making this social networking space more friendly to advertisers by cleaning up the site), Peter Chernin is pushing for the entire corporate culture at that media organization to make way for the alternative delivery mechanisms of the Digital Age. According to FT via The Australian:
"AS Rupert Murdoch's right-hand for 10 years, Peter Chernin is one of the most important - and entrenched - figures in global media. Yet his neutrally decorated office at News Corp's mid-Manhattan headquarters, with its half-empty bookshelves, suggests a man so constantly poised for departure that he has seen no need to personalise a blandly corporate space.
"... In the first extensive interview Chernin has given in the 13 months since Murdoch stunned the industry by proclaiming that the internet would provide the future growth of News Corp, Chernin reveals that every outpost of its empire - from Twentieth Century Fox studios and the Fox television business to its British and Australian newspapers - has received the same message: don't get too comfortable.
"Chernin slips again into management-speak to declare: 'They are being asked and forced to rethink how they organise so that they can begin to transition their businesses to new delivery mechanisms - whether that is our newspapers building websites, whether it's our studios selling content on video-on-demand or on mobile devices, or whether it's our networks looking at additional delivery mechanisms.'"
(image via cellphones)
Out: Richard Branson. Bilionaire's are a notoriously eccentric species. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) They no longer need to comply with societal rules. That sets them apart. Also, they are catered to by servants and relations 24/7, their word is Law (not unlike, incidentally, Tyrants). Ross Perot comes to mind as an acute archetype of the eccentric billionaire. So does the bubbly Richard Branson, galactic adventurer wannabe, who famously stole Campbell Brown's shoe (3rd item), forcing the NBC cutie to walk though a White House Correspondent's dinner with foot unshod. (Averted Gaze)
BTW: What CEO of a major corporation does a viral semi-pornographic video? But wait, there's more. According to Lloyd Grove:
"Just how fascinating is the life of Virgin Atlantic billionaire Richard Branson? Probably a good deal less fascinating than Branson seems to think when he spills to Men's Journal about getting circumcised at age 21: 'I was allergic to my girlfriend. Or maybe she was allergic to me. Anyway, I was told that if I were circumcised it would solve the problem, so off I went. The funny part is that the day after they did the operation, I was watching the film 'Barbarella' and split the stitches.'"
(image via rotten)
In: Karl Rove. Despite the fact that Washington insiders will let drop that POTUS routinely asks Karl Rove to walk his dog during meetings as a way of deflecting questions of his influence over The President, there is no doubting that Rove's power and influence continues to grow. (Cue to: Bach's haunting Toccata & Fugue in D Minor) According to the perfect Dickensian villain, Robert Novak:
"Everybody in Washington's Republican political community was well-aware that any changes George W. Bush made in his White House staff would not constitute a shakeup. What nobody expected was that Josh Bolten, in essence a professional bureaucrat, would be promoted to chief of staff. Yet, this selection becomes understandable as a confirmation of Karl Rove's supremacy in the White House.
"Rove holds the mundane titles of senior adviser to the president and deputy chief of staff, but scarcely anything happens in the Bush administration without his approval. Now he is more influential than ever. Andrew Card, the departing chief of staff, served (as a Cabinet member) under the senior President Bush (as Rove did not). In contrast, Bolten can thank his rise in the second Bush regime to Rove, his nominal subordinate.
"... Bolten replacing Card also advances Rove's project, which was obvious as early as the mid-'90s, of removing the influence of people close to the elder Bush. Rove named Bolten, then working for Goldman Sachs in London, as the Austin-based policy director of the 2000 Bush-Cheney campaign. There is no question that Bolten is a Rove man."
Charmed, I'm sure. (Averted Gaze)
(image via neweb)
Out: David Lee Roth. David Lee Roth was back today (after a suspension), chastened by executives of Infinity Radio. Apparently he was given a 3-page memo on how to conduct his radio show. His entire crowd of motley freaks are now fired. All that's left is some dude with an English accent reading news-clips. It was sad but oddly compelling radio to hear the singer of "Panama," and "Running with the Devil" so ... lost.
Roth sounded like a broken man and we almost felt sorry for him. He is clearly in over his head. Unfortunately, Howard Stern is taking one of his endless 3-day weekends (paying for less content than we'd get on free radio, anyone?), so we don't know his take on this development.
Roth sounds, frankly, like he has just given up. One can almost hear his shoulders dropping into a supine slouch. I can sort of understand why CBS would try to build something out of his show, which, to be frank, was quite unlistenable in its previous incarnation (how many EMT stories can a listener take?). But the way they went about doing it --the breaking of DLR, who is, if not dazzling, a pop-nostalgia figure of some renown -- plays into Howard Stern's argument that they do not treat "Talent" well at Viacom.
And besides, doesn't the CBS crackdown on Roth's method only inspire the former rock star to rebel? Is this Howard Stern's mysterious "Phase 3"?
(image via BritishVogue)
If you think this post is just an excuse to talk about Helena Christensen, then -- dammit -- you know us far too well. According to British Vogue:
"HELENA CHRISTENSEN was unveiled as the new face of Ultimo underwear yesterday. The 37-year-old supermodel takes over the job from Rachel Hunter, whose divorce from Rod Stewart is expected to be finalised in a matter of days. Hunter herself took over the job from Stewart's current girlfriend, Penny Lancaster. 'I just can't believe that we have landed Helena,' said Ultimo boss Michelle Mone."
Jesus Fucking Christ! (image via vnn)
We can understand the sentiment perfectly. One day we aspire to be able to utter that same sentence, post-coitally, in the presence of the supermodel.
(image via telegraph)
How quickly the blush comes off the rose in Tinseltown. At the start of the year Brad Grey was The Goldenboy who could do no wrong. (Averted Gaze) But, as they say: What have you done for me Lately, Brad? Now, Gray is tainted with the Pellicano sleaze. And who is being chatted up as a replacement? Why, none other than the Sir Edmund Hillary of Social Mountaineering, our own E. Graydon Carter.
We wonder what "room of power" the head of Paramount occupies? Seventh room? Certainly not the Sixth. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) According to those intrepid Page Sixxies:
"EMBATTLED Paramount chief Brad Grey's days seem to be numbered, and speculation on a possible replacement for him is running rampant.
"Hollywood insiders are now referring to Grey as the 'temporary' head of the studio in the wake of the Anthony Pellicano scandal. Grey has been questioned by the FBI in the ongoing wiretap investigation, although it is unclear whether he condoned Pellicano's alleged use of illegal eavesdropping on his behalf.
"Whether he's ultimately charged with anything or not, the negative press coverage might be Grey's undoing. He has been less than candid about his ties to Pellicano. 'It's a public company, and they just can't afford all the bad publicity,' says one insider.
"There's a buzz that Vanity Fair Editor Graydon Carter has spoken to Grey's boss, Viacom President and CEO Tom Freston, about the job, but he'd be a long shot due to his lack of studio experience. A Vanity Fair rep denied any discussion took place.
"... A damaging story in the magazine could well be the nail in Grey's coffin. Vanity Fair does not comment on stories it may or may not be working on."
Page Six also mention that Carter's experience with the movies is his producing credit on "The Kid Stays in the Picture," which, curiously enough, chronicles the life and times of that irascible hooker-chasing Robert Evans, who, actually headed production at Paramount in the tumultuous 1970s.
Of course, Carter's "extra-curricular work" for the movie industry has been much discussed among the Chattering Classes. As Jack Shaeffer memorably put it back in his May 2004 "Defending Graydon Carter" piece in Slate:
"The problem with the current flurry of Carter coverage is that it insists on viewing him through the ethical lens you'd use on the editor of Barron's. That's crazy. I'm not suggesting that Vanity Fair should operate in an ethical universe of its own choosing, but the bar needn't be as high as that of the New York Times (or depending on your view of Weinraub, as low). The ethics cops walking the Carter beat don't seem to appreciate that Vanity Fair like Wenner's Rolling Stone and Brown's Talk is primarily an entertainment book. Just because it dabbles in Hollywood investigation from time to time shouldn't distract us from its primary role as whore for the Hollywood beast."
But you have to hand it to Graydon. Whether or not the whore follows in the beast's hoofprints, you just know Carter's hair will remain, as always, inscrutable.
More Page Six here.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
That's cute, Josh, but once you go Clooney, you can't go back. (image viaBillythekid)
Jaques Chirac likes his visiting Foreign Minister's like he likes his coffee -- "Noir." (image via boston)
The Milli Vanilli Dance lives on in the hearts and minds of low-end strippers everywhere. (image via thecobrasnake)
(image via upenn)
In: Shari Redstone. All eyes were on Shari Redstone, a lone voice in the digital wilderness, as she spoke against "Cubaning." And that might not bode well for her future at Viacom. Still, Redstone makes an interesting -- if very Old Media -- argument. Ought the window to be shrunk between the theaters and the DVD distribution date? From HollywoodReporter:
"In a rare investor conference appearance, Shari Redstone, president of National Amusements and vice chairman of CBS Corp. and Viacom Inc., spoke out Wednesday against the collapse of film release windows.'Shrinking windows is bad for business, and I mean everybody's business,' she said at the Bank of America Media, Telecommunications and Entertainment Conference.
"With father Sumner -- chairman and controlling shareholder of CBS and Viacom as well as NA -- watching from a front-row seat, Shari Redstone said she would prefer to go back to the old window of six to seven months between the theatrical and DVD release, at least for some films. She said movie studios are looking at maybe having four-month windows for films targeting younger, less patient audiences, and six- to seven-month windows for older-skewing fare.'Movies are meant to be seen in the theater,' and exhibitors must focus on further improving the theatergoing experience and bringing the 'wow factor'" back to it, she said."
(image via mirror)
Out: Christian Slater. Remember when Christian Slater was a Young Hollywood Youth -- taking the town by storm -- brimming with potential? He starred opposite Sean Connery in the immensely enjoyable "Name of the Rose." Even when, in his teen years, he basically impersonated Jack Nicholson, he was interesting.
No he's just sad.
After the chicken pox, the Nixon maskGate, the playing grab-ass with an elderly woman (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment), comes a new indignity, the lowest rung on the food chain, namely:-- a British Reality "star," from the 3AMGirls:
"SERIAL lothario Christian Slater is up to his old tricks again. This time the Hollywood hunk has snared reality TV "star' Jasmine Lennard.
"The pair were all over each other at the opening night of his West End play, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, on Tuesday.
"At one point in the drama, Christian, 36 - who returns to the role of Randle P McMurphy following his successful run in 2004/5 - strips off. Which certainly sent 20-year-old Jasmine's pulse racing.
"'There's nothing better than Christian in his underpants,' gushed Jasmine, one of the contestants in Five's Make Me A Supermodel."
Charmed, I'm sure.
(schematics via FishbowlNY)
In: Lunch at Michael's. We are not entirely unlike Whitney Houston. She likes her crack infused with niacin while we, dear reader, are media crack addicts. (A considerable pause) Nothing says crack addict more than the savage concavity of one's butt-cheeks (Or, rather, the deficit of ass); and nothing -- stay with me -- says Media crack addict more than our fascination at who is sitting with whom at Michael's, the midtown Chattering Class watering hole (tm).
Yesterday was a veritable Bonfire of the Vanities. Unlimited Power. From FishbowlNY:
"4: CNN's Jeff Greenfield looking casual after he stood and took off his tie, Tom Brokaw looking relaxed in a jacket and slacks, and two other handsome gents, all under the big potted plant (which shades the other big table).
"5: Regis Philbin with Roni Selig.
6: Former CBS News chief Andrew Heyward, looking very healthy sans moustache, CBSNews.com senior VP and president of business development Betsy Morgan, looking very nice as always, with someone else we didn't recognize, but who happily greeted Greenfield with Hayward when the CNN senior analyst went over to say 'hi.'
"... 8: New York social scene chronicler David Patrick Columbia with the Observer's Choire Sicha.
"... 18: Was that Court TV chairman and CEO Henry S. Schleiff with Kerry Kennedy, former spouse of Cuomo's son Andrew? "
Well, if it was that would be interesting as the adorable Laurel Touby wrote, "Right behind us, Mario Cuomo (yes that Cuomo) had a real power lunch, while former daughter-in-law Kerry Kennedy (yes, that Kennedy) nibbled just feet away."
That, true believer, the problem with the incestuous nature of New York Power. (Averted Gaze) If you haven't fucked someone, you've been their son and daughter-in-law and then, like clockwork, been involved in a scandal that played out on the most-excellent Page Six. The final indignity, of course, is having to digest one's meal a table away from your arch-nemesis at Michael's.
God, it sucks to be powerful. More media crack here.
(image via timeinc)
Out: African Dictor Chic. Is this the end of the African Tyrant? A single membrane-red thread -- Tyranny -- has connected all the disparate parts of The Corsair's multi-storied life. We were born an Ambassador's son in Amin's Uganda. We emigrated to London, Paris, Canada, and, finally, Manhattan. We attended the UN School, an institution steeped in the traditions of internationalism and freedom. In college we studied Ancient Greek with a not insignificant concentration of the Oedipus Tyrannus Trilogy, perhaps the deepest analysis of tyrannical regimes the West -- or anywhere else -- has ever produced.
That's why we were overjoyed to hear that Charles Taylor is en route to a inconvenient jail cell in The Hague to face International Law. One can almost hear taylor protesting, "International Law? What the fuck is that?" For all that has been said -- usually from the Left -- of the invasion of Iraq, emigrees like The Corsair will never shed a tear for the incarceration of Sadaam Hussein. Tyrants are the lowest human lifeform (How symbolic was the infamous "spiderhole?"), the emdodying the planetary plague of Fiery Ambition devoid of Principle.
In trying Charles Taylor and humiliating him -- like Hussein -- we send a message to the next would-be Tyrant, the luckless war orphan in a Third World country, learning, sadly, at the school of the Kalashnikov and not UNIS that "It's all about Power." (Averted Gaze; a look of withering contempt)
It is not all about power, otherwise Africa would be in a better position vis a vis the world. The power accrued by an individual and his tribal cronies is power taken from the populace at large. The Belgian Chateaus, the SUVs, the cases of Johnny Walker liquor that are de rigeur for the African dictator come from international aid that would otherwise used for, say, a school that teaches things like Oedipus Tyrannus, Quantum Theory, and the Art of African Masks. But the capture of Taylor and the prospect of an entertaining trial alights the otherwise gloomy global stage -- and, especially the dark continent of Africa -- with the possbility that African Dictator Chic has in its Final Act. Dictator, Exit Stage Left. (Averted Gaze)
(image via industrymagazine)
In: Denise Vasi. Is this the new woman in Russell Simmons' life? Do we no longer have the disgustingly shallow Kimora Lee Simmons to kick around? According to SOHH:
"Speculation has been going around for months about the possible split of hip-hop�s power couple Kimora Lee Simmons and Russell Simmons. In the upcoming issue of Us Weekly an insider tells the magazine that the end is near for the pair. Who�s the new lady in town? Twenty-three year old model Denise Vasi has allegedly been spending time with Russell enjoying the relaxation of yoga. Riiiight. . . "
(image via xanga)
Out: The Tori Spelling Tattoo. New oxygen has been infused into the nearly extinguished Tori Spelling tatoo debate. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) Just when you thought it had passed away, it comes back -- in triplicate! That's right: There isn't just one Tori tat, there are three. And we will refrain from guessing what nether regions those tatoos inhabit. (Averted Gaze) On The extraordinarily buzzy Howard Stern Show this morning this was revealed. According to Marksfriggin:
"Richard Christy came in and said that he thinks that (Tori Spelling's) boyfriend made a big mistake. He read that the guy got a tattoo of her face and some lines about how in love he is with her. Tori said that it's actually 3 tattoos and they're all over his body. Tori doesn't think that's so outrageous. She seems to be flattered by the whole thing. Howard said that guy's wife must be freaking out that he didn't do that for her. Tori said that his wife wouldn't let him get tattoos so Tori told him she loves tattoos and he should get them if he wants."
Considering that after the inevitable divorce Mr. Spelling will have to undergo hours of painful laser-removal surgery, we suggest he ixnae on any more atootaes. Dig?
(image via corante)
In: Club CNN. Washington is, as the old cliche goes, Hollywood for Ugly people. (Averted Gaze) Well, not ugly per se, just less tan. So you can imagine a Embassy Row party is not exactly like a Hollywood party. For example, in Hollywood they don't mention your law school class ("Yale '78; charned, I'm sure") along the introductions. The hair is not as big in Tinseltown; the "casting cough" does not involve Senior Senators on the Finance Committee.
Ones looks and not whether or not they made the Law Review at Harvard matter deeply in Beverly Hills. Another subtle class indicator in the land of the pale and bespectacled attorneys is The Afterparties. For last night's Radio-Television Correspondents Association. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) The bottom feeder at the afterparties is definitely the oily Ron Silver. (Averted Gaze) At the top of the food chain, on the other hand, is: "Club CNN," which made a strong showing in a space usually reserved for the superiority of Fox TV. According to FishbowlDC:
"The after-party scene was radically different this year too. Normally Fox and CNN attempt to beat each other with the after-parties, but this year Fox, which was the target of serveral jokes through the night, left the Hilton to CNN and ushered its chosen guests off to an secret off-site after-party. The Eyebar soiree was a mixed success--perhaps a little bit too exclusive.
"CNN's 'Club CNN' theme ended up with a packed party and hotel security folks ended up making people wait in line to enter the tropical-themed party with dance floor, sushi, ice cream, and cocktails. The club seemed to be filled with an overabundance of twenty-somethings who probably didn't land a ticket to the actual dinner--which is why it was nearly packed as soon as the dinner let out) but who were eager to rub elbows with network anchors and the like ('Oooo...is that John Roberts?'). What had to be hired dancers led the way on the dance floor with their swing and salsa, but it still took a while to convince others to get jiggy with it. After all, it's much more difficult keeping your attention focused on Martin Bashir when you're bumping and grinding Caribbean-style.
"The hundreds of people who couldn't make it into the pounding CNN party wandered over to the more staid NBC Universal party down the hall. Even Ed Helms ended up at the overflow party when the line at the CNN party proved too daunting."
We cannot imagine that any overflow party could prove too daunting for the unsinkable Ed "The roof is on fire" Helms. More here.
(image via channel)
According to Gawker, our favorite punchy sepermodel put someone -- most likely some form of servant/subordinate -- into Lennox Hill hospital. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) An object was thrown, which sounds a tad suspect. The Naomi we all know and fear would hold the object -- most likely an electronic gixmo -- up close, dearly, soas to better feel the horrible vibrations of the bones of her chosen prey crunching. (Averted Gaze)
Throwing a foreign object sounds impersonal to The Naomi.
Then again, if the subordinate was fleeing on swift feet a knock-out toss might have been her only available option. You know Naomi's philosophy on the new technology, don't you: It should not be tossed aside lightly .. it must be thrown with great force.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
(image via gawker)
The Corsair wasn't going to post today. We have a hectic schedule. But the Whitney Houston crack development calls for "A Very Special Episode" of The Corsair.
Our first indication was the concave ass. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) Ass shouldn't be like that. It's plain wrong. The second indication of pharmaceutical overindulgence was the constipation. Memorably, Bobby Brown displayed "real black love" by helping her remove -- digitally -- an offending mass of impacted waste. (Averted Gaze) Then, the synchronized crack-dance (Samuel L. Jackson simulated a similar crack-shuffle in "Jungle Fever" as the festive Gator).
It's official: "The Greatest Love of All" was about the crackrock.
(image via gawker)
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
No, there's no need to wipe down the excess oilyness from your computer screen. It's just Wilmer Valderrama. (image via wireimage)
Joseph Abboud: A Tan in full. (image via wireimage)
Ass on acid wash. Charmed, I'm sure. (image via thecobrasnake)
On his downtime, The Prince of Wales likes to wear the royal Du-Rag and get his flow on in da club. (image via wireimage)
To Quentin Tarrantino, with Love. (image via thecobrasnake)
To Vanity Fair's George Wayne, with Love. (image via thecobrasnake)
Sublime. (image via mosnews)
In: Stanislav Lem. Let's face it, most Science Fiction is astonishingly shitty writing masking vast sexual repression. It is, further, divorced from any literary lineage or pedigree and essentially exists to offer naught else but shallow escapism to socially inept freaks and geeks. (Averted Gaze) This is, of course, when it's done badly. But when it is done well -- as in the case, dear reader, of the cerebral and elegant Stanislav Lem -- Science Fiction offers a context to our fast-moving digital era, a literary Ground-of-Being of you will, not unlike what Dickens gave voice to the London labor, London poor or what the all-but-forgotten Edith Wharton gave to that virtually extinct social specimen The Knickerbockers (We live in the United States of Amnesia, no?). According to TheGuardian:
"His secretary, Wojciech Zemek, told the Associated Press that the cause was heart failure, citing his advanced age.
"A giant of 20th-century science fiction, Lem was best-known for his novel Solaris, first published in 1961, which was adapted for film first by Andrei Tarkovsky in 1972 and later by Steven Soderbergh in 2002. In it he examines questions of time, identity and memory as he tells the story of an encounter with a mysterious alien intelligence, and of the strange dreams which afflict the astronauts.
"... Lem was born in 1921 in the then Polish town of Lviv. He trained first as a doctor and fought with the resistance against the German occupation during the second world war.
"He was always critical of most science fiction, describing it as ill thought-out, poorly written and more interested in adventure than ideas or new literary forms. This attitude provoked the removal of his honorary membership of the Science Fiction Writers of America in 1976. He subsequently declined the offer of a full, voting membership."
From the sublime .. to the ridiculous. (image via zap2it)
Out: Amanda Scheer Demme. Charges of bigotry and anti-semitism have hovered about Amanda Scheer Demme not unlike her unruly nimbus of slatterly hair. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) Those intrepid Page Sixxies chronicle the calamitous demise of Demme (yay!), adding the who's and the how's of her Fall. Our blog colleague Perez Hilton, a recent inductee into the Paper Magazine Beautiful issue, speaks for us all when he posts, acidly:
"Patiently, we have waited for the downfall of Amanda Scheer Demme, and it seems that now that blessed day is upon us!
"People always get what's coming to them, and comeuppance is overdue for party promoter and alleged racist Demme.
"A shitstorm is about to spew hot poo all over Demme's fro now that word has gotten out that Rolling Stone is set to unleash a damaging profile of Amanda, written by famed New York scribe Vanessa Grigoriadis, who penned the infamous PoweR Girls piece, amongst many.
"According to our pals at Page Six, the owners of the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, which house Demme's Tropicana and Teddy's, are fed up with her cunty ways and have told her they're dissolving her contract.
Thanks be to God.
(image via logofan)
In: Fox Television. As if it isn't enough that Fox dominates network television with the most intense drama's perhaps ever aired on the small screen (for further reference: "Prison Break," "24"). FX has, of late, inundated the cable cosmos with a cornucopia of well-written -- and impossibly intense -- dramatic hits giving HBO a run for their mountains of money (What is going on with Showtime? Are they even in the gladiatorial fundament?).
Last Sunday's season's brutal finale of "The Shield," one of the two or three best written shows on television today, ended with the obsessed-corrupt Forest Whitaker, and the obsesseder-corrupter Michael Chicklis engaged in a smack-down that was building -- via twisty handheld cameras -- for the entire season.
The Corsair needed to smoke a post-coital cigarette after that psychological release.
Now, "Thief;" of which, says Medialifemagazine:
"'Thief,' FX�s excellent new drama premiering tonight at 10 p.m., seems to defy dramatic gravity.
"...Every time you think �Thief� has maxed, the tension ratchets up with another surprising, often sorrowful twist. It does it all cleanly through strong, disciplined acting and writing, entirely free of the dramatic clich�s one might find on another network.
"In that, 'Thief' shares much with FX�s 'The Shield' and 'Rescue Me.' Though they�re often lauded for their edgy, violent subject matter, it�s the deft plotting that makes these programs so good. They work by focusing on one main character and his various layers, and they are driven by how that character reacts to often tragic, sometimes comical circumstances."
Intensity, thy name is Fox. More here.
Out: Students Are Apolitical. Ultimately students dont give a flying fuck if Leo or Affleck or Diddy assault them with vapid slogans; ultimately students will act politically when an issue comes close enough to home. A million students are protesting in France because the Elitist government didn't feel the need to thoroughly explain -- on television, on radio, at colleges -- the necessity of cutbacks. Just as with the ill-conceived and bloated European Union (whose nebulous borders, had things worked out, would have absurdly extended to both navel of The Russian Federation and nape of Iran), the French Government thought, stupidly, that they could subvert the Social Contract and pass this change through by Fiat.
Quite the contrary.
Similarly, Tony Blair -- fatally -- moved against public opinion and fought a War without curbing the fickle winds of public opinion in his ideological direction. Blair lectured Great Britain in the tone of a Religious scold when he ought to have channelled his inner Churchill to persuade (or, better yet, represented the commonweal and stayed out of War altogether). As skilled a debater as Tony Blair is, The Myseries of Communication eluded him entirely in the feverish onrush to salvage "The Special Relationship," which, for all we know, maybe essentially obsolete in the aftermath of the dissolution of the Soviet Union. The leaked Bush-Blair memo should finally dislodge the Labor Prime Minister from office, inaugurating a Brown era.
And the students -- and the elderly -- aren't happy on The Continent. Nor should they be.
In the United States, particularly among the Southwestern border, colleges and universities are protesting the draconian -- and thoroughly unChristian -- Immigration firstorm which this blog has been predicting for over a year. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
And not a single "Vote or Die" button was exchanged in the process. Charmed, I'm sure.
(image via patriciafield)
In: Patricia Field. We have kidded Pat Field in the past (That Socrates t-shirt, we still maintain, is a daffy idea), but that comes from not a small amount of affection we have for the designer. And, as astrological Gemini's, we are not entirely immune to the Methuselan allures of a prospective "Sugar Mommy." According to Kim Hasteriter of PaperBlog:
"Patricia Field is BACK!!! Downtowners will be thrilled to know that Pat Fields new shop will be open for biz next week on the Bowery (between Bleecker and Houston). Fields, who was kicked out of her Eighth Street shop a few years ago (by NYU asshole landlords) took matters into her own hands and bought a building on the Bowery with friends and has spent the past three years renovating it. Thank God for forces like Fields whose contribution to downtown fashion and style are enormous and in these days of impossibly high rents, its takes fortitude and Herculean persistance to keep a small business alive in this city."
(image via NYSocialdiary)
We were rather surprised to hear that Jay McInerney's "The Good Life," his best book ever, is doing so poorly. The first well executed post-September 11th novel deserves a better fate. According to 411:
"Jay McInerney once had the world on a string with the original paperback novel, 'Bright Lights, Big City.' But that was more than 22 years ago.
"McInerney got a lot of ink � and presumably a nice advance � for his latest, 'The Good Life.' Alas, Bookscan reports the tepidly reviewed novel has sold just 15,000 copies. Publisher Alfred A. Knopf can�t be too happy with all that fiction ready to be pulped. Get the remainder tables ready. Luckily, McInerney has his wine column to fall back on�"
(A considerable pause) We know that Jay McInerney wants to be perceived as a connoisseur, but McInerney's wine writing reminds The Corsair of a bad Hungarian wine: watery and lacking in body and depth. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) We'd prefer it if The Jayster kept feeding us his wonderful novels and left the amateur wine slurping to other, more capable scribblers.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Irrelevant semi-savage Jose Canseco shows up -- ironically -- for the "Last Chance for Animals" Benefit. (image via wireimage).
While yes, indeed, it is "hard out there for a pimp," but the perpetually woozy-looking Paris Hilton helps the Three-Six Mafia make that career choice a little bit easier. (image via wireimage)
As always, words fail Marc Anthony. (image via ohnotheydidnt)
The recent epidemic of crack in clubs is particularly alarming. (image via thecobrasnake)
(image via sports.tom)
Wilmer Valderrama is a classy sort of douchebag. Oily, to be sure, but Top drawer. (Averted Gaze) He kisses and tells, but only on satellite (which, funnily enough, serves our purposes perfectly). On The Howard Stern Show this morning he noted, elegantly and publicly, that Jennifer Love Hewitt -- a woman whom he is rumored to have dated -- was "an 8." (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) We also learn, among other things, that Hollywood starlets should have better taste than to fuck a guy who reduces them into integers. Some more of Wilmer's more colorful bon mots, via Marksfriggin:
"Wilmer said that his first celebrity date was with Ariana Richards when he was about 17 years old. Howard told him that he's like the Venezuelan John Stamos. Howard asked him if Lindsay's boobs are real. Wilmer said that they are ...
"... Howard read that Wilmer also dated Mandy Moore. After every name that Howard mentioned, Artie would say 'You fucked ___?!' He's nailed a lot of hot chicks from what they can tell. Howard asked him if he got Mandy when he was doing 'That 70's Show.' Wilmer said that the moral of the story is that everyone should get a sitcom because that's how all of this went down.
"... Howard said that he needs about 7 hours to interview this guy. He went through the list of the girls he's dated. He asked him about each girl after mentioning their names...
"Jennifer Love Hewitt - an 8 ... Howard asked Wilmer if he's got a huge penis or something. Wilmer said that he has been blessed. He said he does have a big penis and has more than 8 inches."
Too much information! We're going to stop here, on account of even we have limits. Cosmic limits, to be sure, but limits nonetheless. Get the rest of the incredibly filthy story here.
(image via jamiehughesphotography)
In: Spike Lee. America somewhat eschewed Larry the Cable Guy's Lowest Common Denominator fare (Averted Gaze), opting, instead, in favor of Spike and Denzel and Jodie's more intelligent cinematical offerings. Still, strolling around Harlem this weekend (cig packs are $5, no questions asked), one wonders how much better Inside Man might have done if pirated DVD's -- out in full force on the streets, unfortunately -- had been more vigorously policed by the studio. Says BoxOfficeGuru:
"Moviegoers showed up in large numbers for Inside Man which generated the second largest opening of 2006 with an estimated $29M over the Friday-to-Sunday span. Universal launched the action thriller in 2,818 locations and averaged a stellar $10,280 per theater. Directed by Spike Lee, the R-rated film stars Washington as a New York detective who takes on a criminal mastermind (Clive Owen) who seizes control of a bank and all the people inside it. Jodie Foster plays a supporting role in the $45M film but was very prominent in the studio's marketing campaign.
"For Washington and Lee, Inside Man delivered new career highs beating the openings of 2004's Man on Fire ($22.8M) and 2000's The Original Kings of Comedy ($11.1M), respectively. The film marked the director's fourth collaboration with the actor and showed once again how much fans love seeing the two work together. Lee's only other number one opener ever was 1998's He Got Game and the top-grossing picture in the filmmaker's 20-year career remains 1992's Malcolm X ($48.2M). Both starred Denzel Washington. Lee has spent most of his career directing and producing smaller, and more personal films. Inside Man marks his first mainstream commercial movie and reviews from criitics were mostly positive.
"As expected, the opening weekend audience consisted of mature adults, skewed a bit more male, and included a strong multicultural turnout. According to studio research, 68% of the crowd was age 30 or older while 54% was male. Nearly one-third of the audience was African American or Latino. Long-term strength could be solid."
"... dead Hollywood shark-eyes" (image via slate)
Out: Michael Eisner. Granted, we do love to play Eisner shadenfreude. Eisey's dead Hollywood shark-eyes intrigue us to no end; his colossal impotence --think: "Camp" -- only compounds the already compound-Germanness of that overindulged Chattering Class contact sport. (The Corsair pours himself a glass of the black wine of Cahors, elixir of Popes) His Gehry-designed flamout is on like Gray Poupon!
Quixotically, Liz Smith, who has on occasion been at cross-purposes -- scroll down to "other highlights" -- with the former Mouse House head (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment), gives Old Sharkeyes some boldfaced love (?!), saying, in toto, "CHECK OUT the latest in talk TV to morrow night. 'Conversations with Michael Eisner' airs on CNBC, 9 p.m. The former Disney head chats smart with Sony's Howard Stringer, with tycoon Martha Stewart and with the little-known but highly influential Disney technologist Bran Ferren."
(A considerable pause) That's some fucking stellar line-up there. As they say in Tinseltown: You meet the same people on the way down as you do on the way up. How soon then before the eventual Eisner-Carrottop powow?
(image via amybrown)
In: Jodie Foster. Have you noticed how the cerebral Jodie Foster -- arguably the biggest, most proven actress in Hollywood right now -- has lightened up considerably? Sure, she's ferociously intelligent, with those intense, smart eyes. That we all know. But she, unlike other seriousl actors who have spent their entire life near the A-List, is not averse to lightening the mood. To wit, from the excellent David Hershkovits the Papermag Blog:
"Spike Lee's new movie The Inside Man starring Denzel Washington, Clive Owen and Jodie Foster is getting Lee some of the best reviews he's ad since his debut She's Gotta Have It. The movie, a suspenseful bank robbery gone wrong wth a twist, has a great script with some snappy one-liners that help give the movie bite and make it more than just another heist movie. In one scene Washington calls Foster a magnificent cunt. According to reports I've heard, there was a spirited debate about taking the line out at the urging of the studio. Lee fought against it at first, but was eventually worn down and willing to acquiesce. The twist in this story is that it was Foster who fought to keep the line in. And she won. And she was right."
Yes, she was. Now, can someone book Jodie Foster on SNL already (And, while you're at it, break us off a nice writers position on the show, thank you)?
(image via simonsays)
Out: Sally Quinn. Gone are the days when hostess-with-the-mostess Sal Quinn ruled Georgetown Society. FishbowlDC today spanks the formerly powerful doyenne with a sweet little ditty of a post entitled, briskly, " Dear Sally: You Stink (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)," with a little help from Tim Page of the Washington Post:
"The Post's Tim Page lays the smackdown on Sally Quinn for her letter to Laura Bush. From the Post's internal critique board:
"Sally Quinn's column was an embarrassment, charged with all the import and relevance of the latest installment of Classic Peanuts. I've rather enjoyed Quinn's occasional anthropological recountings of boozy nights in Olde Georgetown -- back when men were Men and smoked cigars while The Ladies nattered downstairs -- but when she takes it upon herself to be Consiglieri to the Stars (whether Gary Condit or Laura Bush) she comes across as nothing more than a Super Nanny -- from Pluto, or Phoenecia, or anyplace other than real-life Washington D.C., as it exists in the year 2006."
(image via ilgop)
In: Steve Friedman. If you are a journo looking after a tart -- but not too citric -- soundbite on "The State of the Morning News," one goes, without fail, to Steve Friedman. He's a do-right man on that subject. (The Corsair sparks a Cohiba Robusto) Not anymore, alas; candor evaporates with advancement. He's back among the corporate suits. We still love him, though. According to TVNewser:
"Steve Friedman made The Today Show #1 in the 80's. He engineered NBC's street-level studio in the 90's. He created The Early Show for CBS in 1999. And now he has been tapped to 'accelerate the growth' of his baby.
"The oft-quoted Friedman has been named vice president for morning broadcasts at CBS News, Sean McManus announced today. Friedman will oversee The Early Show, CBS Morning News, and Up To The Minute. He starts today. Here is Friedman's carefully-worded quote:'The greatest success for morning programs comes from strong producer-executive teams,' Friedman said. 'I'm looking forward to working with Michael and his staff at THE EARLY SHOW. They've nurtured the 'baby' we created in 1999; I'm looking forward to returning to the broadcast as it nears its seventh birthday.'"
Out: Rankling Russia (Or, Courting Belarus?). Why Rankle Russia? Why would the Pentagon pick this particular moment in time to humiliate Russia. The Russian soul is endlessly concerned with being respected as a military power, or, failing that, a Player on the International Stage. 2006, we cannot fail to note, began with a jarring episode of Russian unpredictability when -- just to show that they could -- Gazprom, at the behest of Moscow, reduced the volumes of gas it was sending through Ukraine.
Europe was briefly thrown into cognitive vertigo.
It was a politically immature maneuver, especially considering that Russia was, at the time, about to take over the reins as head of the "G8 (which it has done now)." Certainly, the United States has some leverage at present over Russia -- currently chairing said G8, and wanting, desperately, to be taken seriously by the West.
Are we using that leverage with Belorus and the Sadaam intelligence? Does this have anything to do with Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Legev's failure to back the US Draft on Iran at the Security Council? And why release this little 'Rummy snowflake' -- Condi obviously knew, but seemed somewhat flustered on the Sunday talking head shows -- on the cusp of the Belarus crisis, obviously calculated to rasp Moscow, whose generals, coyly, have been leaning in the direction of a Russo-Chinese alliance. *The Corsair shudders* And as Nixon instinctively knew, it is in America's interest to keep China and Russia on opposite ends of The Arena (Triangulation).
Russia, of course, denies that they gave Sadaam Hussein classified information. This is probably naught else but simple shit, but why air this intel publicly?
If anything, the rising up of the people of Belarus should remind the Elites in France that it is the people who, ultimately, control their destiny.
(image via castlehs)
We're admirers of Toure, Nabokov-infused post-modernist scribbler and CNN's former pop-culture authority, who is, at present, a reformer-executive at BET News. Under his innovation BET has become increasingly relevant, a quality entirely missing under the reign of Bob Johnson, who preferred the channel to be populated with an eclectic mix of big booty videos paid televangelist programming. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
In Toure's recent sit-down with the always-intriguing Dave Chappelle he got an interesting quote. When asked if there was an "even one percent chance" of Comedy Central and Chappelle working together again, he told Toure, "Not if they air (The unfinished Chappelle Show episodes) they aint."
The gauntlet has been thrown down. The balls in Comedy Central's court. Your move, Doug Herzog.
He may just have us "ruffed up" for this post. (image via forbes)
It would be no grand observation to Jane Goodall or other accomplished primatologists that the thuggish Tommy Mottola is a territorial sort of primate. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) The Great Apes like their space. They are a priavte species and have been known to mock charge and roar aggressively when someone gets too close. In this case, the potential threats are not rival Silverbacks, but, rather, WASPs. According to our favorite gossip superhero duo Rush and Molloy:
"Five years ago, after selling his 12,000-square-foot manor home in Katonah for $17 million, the former Sony Music chairman began buying property in nearby North Salem. The horsey set there had come to accept reclusive David Letterman. But they've been slower to embrace the slick deal-maker who used to be married to Mariah Carey and is now wed to Mexican superstar Thalia Sodi.
"There've been territorial issues. 'People around here let each other ride across their land,' One local tells us. 'But Mr. Mottola put up big red and white 'No Trespassing' signs."
Well, they ought to be damned glad Mottola refrained from angrily throwing his stool at the interlopers. (Averted Gaze)
"Some didn't care for his dream house. 'It's this neo-gothic chateau that's totally tasteless,' sniffs a source.
"The cold war turned colder when neighbors spotted workers cutting down trees on Mottola's property.
"'I guess he wanted people to be able to see his mansion,' says a source. 'But they don't want to see it.'"
No, it wasn't that Tommy Mottola wanted people to see his handicraft at "nesting," rather the tree branches provide a dietary supplement in the form of juicy leaves and shoots. The Id-like former music mogul was hungry for fresh oxygenated nutriment.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
(image via tv2)
We all have something in common with Kate Moss this morning. And, no, we don't mean what Johnny Depp characterized as that "highwater booty." (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
Kate Moss' drunken, rambling Odyssey-Satyricon has her navigating the jaded nightlife scene of London with assorted members of the Primrose Hill Set. (Averted Gaze) Her highwater booty swishing and sashaying -- concave ass-cheeks disappearing altogether into the London fog when she turns sideways -- no doubt swearing like a truckdriver the entire time.
It was duly chronicled by the 3AM Girls, who really live up to their name -- and then some -- in their cautionary tale of a Kate night out:
"SUPERMODEL Kate Moss must be nursing a super-sized hangover today after a head banging 21-hour booze bender.
"Kate, who spent a month in rehab last year to quit cocaine, started her binge on Thursday evening and didn't call it a day until 3pm yesterday. She kicked off the session with Davinia Taylor at 6pm and things hotted up an hour later when Stella McCartney pitched up at Kate's place in Primrose Hill, London.
"The trio then headed to see Jack White's new band the Raconteurs play at the Astoria.
"Our Primrose Hill-billy tells us: 'It was a right knees-up from the off. The girls were ready to really let their hair down."
We're pretty sure that the 3AM Girls don't mean what we Anericans usually mean by "knees up." Jude Law or no Jude Law. More:
"'Stella and Kate were like big kids as they clambered into their car for the gig.'
"Mum-of-one Kate then hooked up with divorced couple Sadie Frost and Jude Law.
"'Sadie and Jude took great care not to be snapped together,' our mole reveals.
"'Afterwards Jude couldn't hide his happiness when he convinced Jack to join them for a drink.'
"The gang waddled down to the Phoenix bar in Soho together and old pals Jude and Kate were laughing and joking to each other before they went in.
"Kate loosened up even more after a few bevvies to celebrate her return to her old hardpartying ways.
"When she came out of the bar she bawled at the waiting paparazzi: 'Get some of this,' launching into a stunning photoshoot pose.
"We're told: 'Kate was in a really flirty mood and even admitted she got a kick out of teasing the snappers.' She and Sadie then headed straight to a party at the Islington home of outrageous artist Jake Chapman.
"Our spy continues: 'Sadie was one of the first to leave at about 4am."
Sadie Frost: Perpetual killjoy.
"'She was so trollied she tripped and hid her face behind a coat.
"At 4.30 a tipsy-looking Kate stuck her head out to check on her driver.
"'She told him she couldn't be bothered going home but he could take her mates back instead.'
"After that the Croydon-born babe did not resurface until yesterday afternoon."
(A considerable pause) Now we know what she does with the 8 gallons of bottled water she orders a day. Intravenously replenishes herself. More here.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Cuff him and stuff him! It took a while, but the acting police finally hunted down and arrested Bruce Willis on the charge of intellectual pollution for his role in the detonation of that infamous Hollywood stinkbomb "Armageddon" (image via wireimage)
It is a proven fact that ironic food is less fattening. (image via thecobrasnake)
Cold-blooded predator Lisa Gastin-ho peruses the red carpet, always on the lookout for that childless billionaire with an inoperable brain tumor. (image via wireimage)
Oily, over-cosmeticized former soap actor John Stamos presently in the process of overhauling his image to the more bankable, "Hairy ... over-cosmeticized former soap opera actor." (image via wireimage)
MySpace The Corsair.