This grusome scene bears out our pet socioeconomic theory about the gulf between personal net worth and the gift of Rhythm. (image via NySocialdiary)
They know what boys like, They know what guys want ... (image via thecobrasnake)
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Bobcat Goldwaithe's Cahiers Du Cinema
(image via starsproductions)
We were actually kind of blown away by the news that -- of all people -- there is actual buzz accumulating about "Bobcat" Goldthwaite's entry in the dramatic film competition at Sundance this year, namely: a dark comedy called "Stay."
Yes, that would be the same "Bobcat" from the Police Academy movies. (Averted Gaze) We hear that because of those efforts, he's huge in Estonia. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) Bobcat played the growling primate -- Now you remember?
Now legit, though, he goes by the name "Bob" Goldthwaite. (Sniffs haughtily)
You get the idea.
Rest of the Sundance lineup here.
(image via starsproductions)
We were actually kind of blown away by the news that -- of all people -- there is actual buzz accumulating about "Bobcat" Goldthwaite's entry in the dramatic film competition at Sundance this year, namely: a dark comedy called "Stay."
Yes, that would be the same "Bobcat" from the Police Academy movies. (Averted Gaze) We hear that because of those efforts, he's huge in Estonia. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) Bobcat played the growling primate -- Now you remember?
Now legit, though, he goes by the name "Bob" Goldthwaite. (Sniffs haughtily)
You get the idea.
Rest of the Sundance lineup here.
A Little of the Old In and Out
... From the sublime. (image via msn)
In: Selma Blair. Selma Blair has been hovering just under everyone's "Fashion Icon" radar for quite some time now, appearing -- always swellegantly, always with a highly refined taste -- at the right events (And then, unselfconsciously, sabotaging that image in film with edgy directors like the crack-smoking John Waters).
She breaks the surface, according to British Vogue:
"SELMA BLAIR is the new face of Chanel. The actress, who is currently in New York shooting Purple Violets with Ed Burns and Debra Messing, has been dressed by Karl Lagerfeld on numerous occasions. She wore two of his dresses for her wedding � a pink single-shouldered one for the ceremony and an identical black one for the party � and now he has photographed her for the new Chanel Vision ads. 'I have a lovely relationship with Karl,' she told WWD. 'It's different to be shot by him. I'm so comfortable in front of him. Sometimes when I work with other photographers, they say, 'Give me more Selma, more, more.' But they don't really know who I am. With Karl, he's capturing something that's more � my personal flaws, the way I am as a girl, not a model.'"
... To the ridiculous; Anna at Live 8. (image via morgenpost.live8)
Out: Anna Nicole Smith. When planning an event with gravity -- the Homeric Greeks called such weight "Spoudaios" -- don't invite Anna Nicole Smith, formerly of Jim's Crispy fried chicken.
Come on now.
Isn't that obvious? If there is a fish fry and moonshine to do in the trailer park, yes, by all means call Anna (Averted Gaze); if there is, however, a concert concerning African debt relief, then -- no, keep Anna the goddam fuck away. According to TheSmokingGun:
"Claiming that an 'intoxicated' and 'scantily clad' Anna Nicole Smith marred this summer's Live 8 concert in Philadelphia, organizers of the charity fundraiser yesterday sued the Trimspa diet firm for failing to control its erratic spokesmodel and not paying a six-figure promotional fee. According to a federal lawsuit filed in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, a copy of which you'll find below, Trimspa agreed to pay Live 8 Productions $320,000 for commercials during the ABC broadcast of the July 2 show and for Smith to be 'integrated' into the production. The Live 8 complaint, which seeks in excess of $500,000 in damages, contends that Trimspa not only stiffed the group on the promotional fee, but 'to add insult to injury, when Ms. Smith showed up to the Philadelphia concert to be integrated into the ABC broadcast ... she was intoxicated and scantily clad in revealing attire that was totally inappropriate for a broadcast that would be seen by millions of people in the United States and then rebroadcast throughout the world.'"
(Calmly, but firmly) Come on now.
How can we, as a society, fail to "integrate" Anna Nicole Smith? Okay; brass tacks: The Corsair might be down with a plan giving her her own "homeland," say -- 40 acres and a mule.
"While Smith did eventually appear on the ABC broadcast, the group alleged that she 'damaged Live 8's reputation and goodwill in the entertainment industry by her unbecoming and erratic behavior.' Live 8, which organized concerts worldwide to coincide with the G8 economic summit, seeks cancellation of African debt and the doubling of aid to the impoverished continent."
The document here.
(image via newmediamusings)
In: Mary Meeker's Global Technology/Internet Trends. Kierkegaard once said that Hegel would have been the greatest philosopher in the history of the world if he had just added to the title page of the Phenomenology of the Spirit the words: "A thought experiment."
So, lets say that Mary Meeker delivered 60 page document on Global Technology/Internet Trends at the Stanford School of Business on November 15th is her "thought experiment." She calls this the IDG Age, or, the age of "Instant Digital Satisfaction," which ... could mean something else entirely.
According to Rafat Ali (link via Paidcontent) :
"Mary Meeker made a presentation at the Stanford Graduate School of Business two weeks ago and this is a PDF of her presentation...a 60-page PDF outlining what her team thinks as the game changers in the Internet business, and how U.S.'s role in the top tech trends is falling. Mobile, broadband, storage, on-demand, open-source, search, gaming, etc...a decent overview"
Here.
Out: Congresswoman Jean Schmidt. Not only is Representative Smith "saucy" (Think: Beef au Jus); but she is also vulnerable. According to our favorite Dickensian villain, Robert Novak:
"Newly elected Rep. Jean Schmidt of Ohio, excoriated by Democrats for intimating that Rep. John Murtha is a coward, faces a possible Republican primary challenge next year from former Rep. Bob McEwen.
"Piercing the usual veil of anonymity for freshman House members, Schmidt was battered by Democrats for suggesting that decorated wounded war veteran Murtha was a coward because he proposed withdrawal from Iraq. Republican colleagues were furious with her for making the well-liked Murtha the issue instead of the war.
"Former State Rep. Schmidt won the nomination last June 14 with 31 percent of the vote in the 11-candidate field, trailed by McEwen's 25 percent. In the Aug. 2 special election, she nearly lost the heavily Republican Cincinnati-area district."
(image via bergenn-filmklubb)
In: Jim Jarmusch. Jim Jarmusch, who earlier this week was presented with a Gotham Achievement Award from the excellent Bill Murray. BTW: Remember "Broken Flowers" at Oscar time, readers; you know who you are that vote. Although Philip Seymor Hoffman is a lock for Best Actor, and Squid and Whale will win Best Screenplay for the insanely talented Noah Baumbach -- Murray and Jarmusch deserve nominations.
But we digress. Jarmisch has this to say to the Hollywood Reporter about the possibility of going mainstream Hollywood:
"THR: Ever had a yen to make a $100 million Hollywood blockbuster?
"JJ: Honestly, no -- it's not really what I'm attracted to. I would gladly make a film with a studio, provided they would give me complete creative control -- which will probably happen when Hell freezes over. Also, I don't think I would be very good at making a big, commercial, expensive film; it's not what I'm drawn to aesthetically, so I would probably make a bad film, also. But that could change. Nothing is set in stone, and I might wake up tomorrow and zingo! -- I've got an idea for a $100 million film. But so far, that has not happened."
(The Corsair nods appreciatively) You do your thing, Jim Jarmusch ... you .. do your thing.
... From the sublime. (image via msn)
In: Selma Blair. Selma Blair has been hovering just under everyone's "Fashion Icon" radar for quite some time now, appearing -- always swellegantly, always with a highly refined taste -- at the right events (And then, unselfconsciously, sabotaging that image in film with edgy directors like the crack-smoking John Waters).
She breaks the surface, according to British Vogue:
"SELMA BLAIR is the new face of Chanel. The actress, who is currently in New York shooting Purple Violets with Ed Burns and Debra Messing, has been dressed by Karl Lagerfeld on numerous occasions. She wore two of his dresses for her wedding � a pink single-shouldered one for the ceremony and an identical black one for the party � and now he has photographed her for the new Chanel Vision ads. 'I have a lovely relationship with Karl,' she told WWD. 'It's different to be shot by him. I'm so comfortable in front of him. Sometimes when I work with other photographers, they say, 'Give me more Selma, more, more.' But they don't really know who I am. With Karl, he's capturing something that's more � my personal flaws, the way I am as a girl, not a model.'"
... To the ridiculous; Anna at Live 8. (image via morgenpost.live8)
Out: Anna Nicole Smith. When planning an event with gravity -- the Homeric Greeks called such weight "Spoudaios" -- don't invite Anna Nicole Smith, formerly of Jim's Crispy fried chicken.
Come on now.
Isn't that obvious? If there is a fish fry and moonshine to do in the trailer park, yes, by all means call Anna (Averted Gaze); if there is, however, a concert concerning African debt relief, then -- no, keep Anna the goddam fuck away. According to TheSmokingGun:
"Claiming that an 'intoxicated' and 'scantily clad' Anna Nicole Smith marred this summer's Live 8 concert in Philadelphia, organizers of the charity fundraiser yesterday sued the Trimspa diet firm for failing to control its erratic spokesmodel and not paying a six-figure promotional fee. According to a federal lawsuit filed in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, a copy of which you'll find below, Trimspa agreed to pay Live 8 Productions $320,000 for commercials during the ABC broadcast of the July 2 show and for Smith to be 'integrated' into the production. The Live 8 complaint, which seeks in excess of $500,000 in damages, contends that Trimspa not only stiffed the group on the promotional fee, but 'to add insult to injury, when Ms. Smith showed up to the Philadelphia concert to be integrated into the ABC broadcast ... she was intoxicated and scantily clad in revealing attire that was totally inappropriate for a broadcast that would be seen by millions of people in the United States and then rebroadcast throughout the world.'"
(Calmly, but firmly) Come on now.
How can we, as a society, fail to "integrate" Anna Nicole Smith? Okay; brass tacks: The Corsair might be down with a plan giving her her own "homeland," say -- 40 acres and a mule.
"While Smith did eventually appear on the ABC broadcast, the group alleged that she 'damaged Live 8's reputation and goodwill in the entertainment industry by her unbecoming and erratic behavior.' Live 8, which organized concerts worldwide to coincide with the G8 economic summit, seeks cancellation of African debt and the doubling of aid to the impoverished continent."
The document here.
(image via newmediamusings)
In: Mary Meeker's Global Technology/Internet Trends. Kierkegaard once said that Hegel would have been the greatest philosopher in the history of the world if he had just added to the title page of the Phenomenology of the Spirit the words: "A thought experiment."
So, lets say that Mary Meeker delivered 60 page document on Global Technology/Internet Trends at the Stanford School of Business on November 15th is her "thought experiment." She calls this the IDG Age, or, the age of "Instant Digital Satisfaction," which ... could mean something else entirely.
According to Rafat Ali (link via Paidcontent) :
"Mary Meeker made a presentation at the Stanford Graduate School of Business two weeks ago and this is a PDF of her presentation...a 60-page PDF outlining what her team thinks as the game changers in the Internet business, and how U.S.'s role in the top tech trends is falling. Mobile, broadband, storage, on-demand, open-source, search, gaming, etc...a decent overview"
Here.
Out: Congresswoman Jean Schmidt. Not only is Representative Smith "saucy" (Think: Beef au Jus); but she is also vulnerable. According to our favorite Dickensian villain, Robert Novak:
"Newly elected Rep. Jean Schmidt of Ohio, excoriated by Democrats for intimating that Rep. John Murtha is a coward, faces a possible Republican primary challenge next year from former Rep. Bob McEwen.
"Piercing the usual veil of anonymity for freshman House members, Schmidt was battered by Democrats for suggesting that decorated wounded war veteran Murtha was a coward because he proposed withdrawal from Iraq. Republican colleagues were furious with her for making the well-liked Murtha the issue instead of the war.
"Former State Rep. Schmidt won the nomination last June 14 with 31 percent of the vote in the 11-candidate field, trailed by McEwen's 25 percent. In the Aug. 2 special election, she nearly lost the heavily Republican Cincinnati-area district."
(image via bergenn-filmklubb)
In: Jim Jarmusch. Jim Jarmusch, who earlier this week was presented with a Gotham Achievement Award from the excellent Bill Murray. BTW: Remember "Broken Flowers" at Oscar time, readers; you know who you are that vote. Although Philip Seymor Hoffman is a lock for Best Actor, and Squid and Whale will win Best Screenplay for the insanely talented Noah Baumbach -- Murray and Jarmusch deserve nominations.
But we digress. Jarmisch has this to say to the Hollywood Reporter about the possibility of going mainstream Hollywood:
"THR: Ever had a yen to make a $100 million Hollywood blockbuster?
"JJ: Honestly, no -- it's not really what I'm attracted to. I would gladly make a film with a studio, provided they would give me complete creative control -- which will probably happen when Hell freezes over. Also, I don't think I would be very good at making a big, commercial, expensive film; it's not what I'm drawn to aesthetically, so I would probably make a bad film, also. But that could change. Nothing is set in stone, and I might wake up tomorrow and zingo! -- I've got an idea for a $100 million film. But so far, that has not happened."
(The Corsair nods appreciatively) You do your thing, Jim Jarmusch ... you .. do your thing.
What Goes on In the Green Room, Stays In the Green Room
Howard Dean: "Who's Bad, E.J.?" EJ Dione: "(Disintrested) You're Bad, Howard." "And don't you ever forget it, homeslice" (image via Stephen Crowley/The New York Times)
Like Vegas, only with a less attractive and decidedly less-tanned cast of revolving characters, what goes on inside the network and cable green room stays among ... the talking heads. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
But if those walls could talk! There are so many things we'd like to know, like: Are there, like, high class escorts in DC -- there has to be, right? -- and, if there are: Who frequents them?
Also: Who is the stupidest person in Washington (We hear: Rick Santorum)? Does Chuck Rangel still wear a man-girdle? (Averted Gaze) Is Rahm Emanuel as brusque, impatient and as arrogant as he is appears? Does Campbell Brown "party"? Does Wolf Blitzer toss so many fucking softball questions on Late Edition that he should be named "Wolf Pitcher"?
But we digress. (The Corsair smiles sweetly like a Venetian schoolboy) According to the Old Gray Lady:
"In an earlier, less polarized era - in the days when senators in opposing parties played poker, when partisan fund-raising had not yet become a blood sport - the camaraderie inside green rooms might not have been so noteworthy. But as the tenor in Washington has grown more rancorous over the last decade, bipartisan socializing has dwindled. With Republicans in control of both houses of Congress and the White House, there are ever fewer reasons for the two sides to exchange views, or even pleasantries.
"... There are known green room talkers, chief among them Charlie Cook, the political analyst, who never lets a fellow guest escape without a nugget of political wisdom, and Haley Barbour, the boisterous Republican governor of Mississippi, who has been on the talk show circuit for years.
"There are brooding, silent types (Representative Barney Frank, the Massachusetts Democrat, among them) who study a newspaper or focus on their BlackBerries rather than shaking hands, sometimes ignoring their fellow guests until stepping onto the set. Patrick J. Buchanan, the conservative who earned his chops under Richard Nixon, is known for his unexpectedly sweet demeanor behind the scenes; his wife, Shelley, always waits for him in the green room while he is on the air.
"Frequent guests develop their own tactics. One Democratic strategist, granted anonymity because he did not want to alert his rivals to his cunning ways, said he often shares a false preview of his on-air arguments with the makeup artist - loudly - in order to throw eavesdropping guests off course."
Is that last James Carville? "Loudly," you know; "cunning ways" was the lagniappe (Averted Gaze).
Enquiring minds want to know, though. (SundayStyles)
Howard Dean: "Who's Bad, E.J.?" EJ Dione: "(Disintrested) You're Bad, Howard." "And don't you ever forget it, homeslice" (image via Stephen Crowley/The New York Times)
Like Vegas, only with a less attractive and decidedly less-tanned cast of revolving characters, what goes on inside the network and cable green room stays among ... the talking heads. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
But if those walls could talk! There are so many things we'd like to know, like: Are there, like, high class escorts in DC -- there has to be, right? -- and, if there are: Who frequents them?
Also: Who is the stupidest person in Washington (We hear: Rick Santorum)? Does Chuck Rangel still wear a man-girdle? (Averted Gaze) Is Rahm Emanuel as brusque, impatient and as arrogant as he is appears? Does Campbell Brown "party"? Does Wolf Blitzer toss so many fucking softball questions on Late Edition that he should be named "Wolf Pitcher"?
But we digress. (The Corsair smiles sweetly like a Venetian schoolboy) According to the Old Gray Lady:
"In an earlier, less polarized era - in the days when senators in opposing parties played poker, when partisan fund-raising had not yet become a blood sport - the camaraderie inside green rooms might not have been so noteworthy. But as the tenor in Washington has grown more rancorous over the last decade, bipartisan socializing has dwindled. With Republicans in control of both houses of Congress and the White House, there are ever fewer reasons for the two sides to exchange views, or even pleasantries.
"... There are known green room talkers, chief among them Charlie Cook, the political analyst, who never lets a fellow guest escape without a nugget of political wisdom, and Haley Barbour, the boisterous Republican governor of Mississippi, who has been on the talk show circuit for years.
"There are brooding, silent types (Representative Barney Frank, the Massachusetts Democrat, among them) who study a newspaper or focus on their BlackBerries rather than shaking hands, sometimes ignoring their fellow guests until stepping onto the set. Patrick J. Buchanan, the conservative who earned his chops under Richard Nixon, is known for his unexpectedly sweet demeanor behind the scenes; his wife, Shelley, always waits for him in the green room while he is on the air.
"Frequent guests develop their own tactics. One Democratic strategist, granted anonymity because he did not want to alert his rivals to his cunning ways, said he often shares a false preview of his on-air arguments with the makeup artist - loudly - in order to throw eavesdropping guests off course."
Is that last James Carville? "Loudly," you know; "cunning ways" was the lagniappe (Averted Gaze).
Enquiring minds want to know, though. (SundayStyles)
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Picture Pages, Picture Pages ...
Wigga, please! (image via thecobrasnake)
The judges score this particularly acrobatic horizontal Weekend-drunken-bender taxi dismount an impressive 9.5 (image via thecobrasnake)
Come on, guys, please? (image via thecobrasnake)
Wigga, please! (image via thecobrasnake)
The judges score this particularly acrobatic horizontal Weekend-drunken-bender taxi dismount an impressive 9.5 (image via thecobrasnake)
Come on, guys, please? (image via thecobrasnake)
"'Um folks, we�re going to need to shoot that again ..." "... But Mr. Tarrantino, we've already done 37 takes on my feet!" (image via thecobrasnake)
When her uptight friends ask her what she sees in her loud, obnoxious boyfriend, she reverentially seperates her hands by a distance of about three quarters of a foot ... and the subject is never broached again. (image via thecobrasnake)
"... I have this sudden impulse to turn the wheel quickly, head-on into the oncoming car. I can anticipate the explosion. The sound of shattering glass. The ... flames rising out of the flowing gasoline!" (image via thecobrasnake)
no posts tomorrow. --R
The Conde Nast Luncheon Seating Arrangements
The winner gets to sit next to this man ... (image via forbes)
So, we go to the NYPost's Keith Kelly to tell us who sat at the right hand side of the feudal lord of Conde Nast, Si Newhouse. This is where the interlocking Dantean circles of peripheral contact with the sweet air that Si breathes is deciphered.
Keith Kelly, our translator of Conde Nast cultural anthropology, he of the intrepid "Kelly Clan," no doubt crouched in the air vents -- knees-against-the-chest --- at The Four Seasons days previous, surviving on a steady diet of uncooked Ramen noodles and Wild Irish Rose, casing out the joint, in anticipations of this robust mosel of scoop. And, a robust scoop it is:
"Christmas came early this year.
"No, not the lighting of the Rockefeller Center tree but the elite luncheon of the top editors, publishers and executives who work for billionaire S.I. Newhouse Jr. inside the glitzy Cond� Nast publishing empire.
"This year's extravaganza at the posh Four Seasons restaurant was the first to stretch beyond Cond� Nast's traditional top-bracket titles such as Vogue, Vanity Fair, GQ, Glamour and The New Yorker, to include the less prestigious titles of its Fairchild group, home to Jane and W, and the more pedestrian Golf Digest Companies.
"The addition of more tables, bringing nearly 100 people to the meal, has already engendered grumbling that the gates have opened too wide. 'It's gotten too big,' said one veteran."
That's what you've got to love about the Conde Nasties. The sheer fucking disdain they have for the very concept of democracy and equality, and the candor with which they express that unfashionable disgust. Goddamned refreshing. To Conde Nast employees it is, and will always be, the 14th Century. Only they are of the landed gentry, hudled in their towering castles (sewage flows downwards), and everyone else, with the possible exception of Jude Law, George Clooney and, quite possibly, Catherine Zeta-Jones is, well, a peasant carrying the Bubonic Plague.
Seriously: It's cathartic to watch delusional thinking of that magnitude -- that: Conde Nastitude -- play itself out so dramatically and in high heels.
"The biggest guessing game was, of course, which top editor would sit with Si Newhouse.
"Vanity Fair Editor Graydon Carter surprised everyone by skipping the event entirely.
"Unlike several years ago, when Carter simply forgot, this year, he knew he'd be in Europe and had called in his apologies ahead of time. Wired's Anderson snagged the Si table, thanks in no small part to his designation as the Ad Age Editor of the Year a few weeks earlier. In a surprise appearance, Architectural Digest's Paige Rense sat at Si's right hand. Joanne Lipman landed a choice table chaired by her immediate boss, Cond� Nast Editorial Director Tom Wallace � but David Carey, her business side-partner in the new business magazine venture, came in from the cold and sat with Si."
Sweet joy. And now we can sleep well, knowing that chestnut. Do you think they talked about Peter Braunstein? Full story here.
The winner gets to sit next to this man ... (image via forbes)
So, we go to the NYPost's Keith Kelly to tell us who sat at the right hand side of the feudal lord of Conde Nast, Si Newhouse. This is where the interlocking Dantean circles of peripheral contact with the sweet air that Si breathes is deciphered.
Keith Kelly, our translator of Conde Nast cultural anthropology, he of the intrepid "Kelly Clan," no doubt crouched in the air vents -- knees-against-the-chest --- at The Four Seasons days previous, surviving on a steady diet of uncooked Ramen noodles and Wild Irish Rose, casing out the joint, in anticipations of this robust mosel of scoop. And, a robust scoop it is:
"Christmas came early this year.
"No, not the lighting of the Rockefeller Center tree but the elite luncheon of the top editors, publishers and executives who work for billionaire S.I. Newhouse Jr. inside the glitzy Cond� Nast publishing empire.
"This year's extravaganza at the posh Four Seasons restaurant was the first to stretch beyond Cond� Nast's traditional top-bracket titles such as Vogue, Vanity Fair, GQ, Glamour and The New Yorker, to include the less prestigious titles of its Fairchild group, home to Jane and W, and the more pedestrian Golf Digest Companies.
"The addition of more tables, bringing nearly 100 people to the meal, has already engendered grumbling that the gates have opened too wide. 'It's gotten too big,' said one veteran."
That's what you've got to love about the Conde Nasties. The sheer fucking disdain they have for the very concept of democracy and equality, and the candor with which they express that unfashionable disgust. Goddamned refreshing. To Conde Nast employees it is, and will always be, the 14th Century. Only they are of the landed gentry, hudled in their towering castles (sewage flows downwards), and everyone else, with the possible exception of Jude Law, George Clooney and, quite possibly, Catherine Zeta-Jones is, well, a peasant carrying the Bubonic Plague.
Seriously: It's cathartic to watch delusional thinking of that magnitude -- that: Conde Nastitude -- play itself out so dramatically and in high heels.
"The biggest guessing game was, of course, which top editor would sit with Si Newhouse.
"Vanity Fair Editor Graydon Carter surprised everyone by skipping the event entirely.
"Unlike several years ago, when Carter simply forgot, this year, he knew he'd be in Europe and had called in his apologies ahead of time. Wired's Anderson snagged the Si table, thanks in no small part to his designation as the Ad Age Editor of the Year a few weeks earlier. In a surprise appearance, Architectural Digest's Paige Rense sat at Si's right hand. Joanne Lipman landed a choice table chaired by her immediate boss, Cond� Nast Editorial Director Tom Wallace � but David Carey, her business side-partner in the new business magazine venture, came in from the cold and sat with Si."
Sweet joy. And now we can sleep well, knowing that chestnut. Do you think they talked about Peter Braunstein? Full story here.
Goodbye, Trio
(image via idahocable)
Trio, in a sense, never had a chance. Okay, it did, but it wasn't handled right. The budgetary constraints, for example, were too great. The channel, while not without its moments -- as the instance when shady media types were allowed to program the channel for a day; I, Claudius was inspired programming -- eventually, though, it fell into the boring routine of show business documentaries, Egg: The Arts Show (Averted Gaze), and, most unfortunately, "Brilliant, But Cancelled," which seemed more like a way for Trio's programmers to make the most of meager budgetary scraps than, as advertised, an ironic look into overlooked small screen classics. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
We have blogged massively about Trio TV, which we used to love, going so far as to outright ask Laura Zalaznick to let us program the channel for a day. They declined our picks of the epic "Stoned," starring Scott Baio (This epitomizes the 1970s for me), the British cult classic -- read: cheaply acquired -- "Poldark," Fame the tv series, and The Richard Pryor Show.
Trio, if you don't already know, is dying a broadband death. According to the Los Angeles Daily News:
"NBC Universal is shutting down Trio, but will keep the cheeky pop-culture television network alive as a broadband offering.
"Trio, perhaps best-known for show-business documentaries and its 'Brilliant, but Cancelled' series resurrecting short-lived TV shows, is currently available in only 9 million of the nation's 110 million television homes. It will sign off at the end of the year, NBC said Monday.
"Its fate was effectively sealed last year when it was bought by NBC Universal, which also owns the similar and more widely distributed Bravo. Trio was subsequently dropped by DirecTV, taking away more than half of its distribution, and prospects for going wider were dim.
"But it will relaunch on Jan. 1 as a broadband network under the BravoTV.com banner, a prospect that would have been laughable only months ago but now is a serious business prospect. MTV, VH1, Comedy Central and Nickelodeon have all recently started their own online networks."
So, while not laughable outright, it surely cannot be construed as a promotion. And since artsy sites don't make much in the way of ad revenue, here's hoping some young, ambitious person takes hold of the site and does edgy things with it.
Trio will be remembered by its gay longtime companion, Bravo TV.
RIP, Trio.
(image via idahocable)
Trio, in a sense, never had a chance. Okay, it did, but it wasn't handled right. The budgetary constraints, for example, were too great. The channel, while not without its moments -- as the instance when shady media types were allowed to program the channel for a day; I, Claudius was inspired programming -- eventually, though, it fell into the boring routine of show business documentaries, Egg: The Arts Show (Averted Gaze), and, most unfortunately, "Brilliant, But Cancelled," which seemed more like a way for Trio's programmers to make the most of meager budgetary scraps than, as advertised, an ironic look into overlooked small screen classics. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
We have blogged massively about Trio TV, which we used to love, going so far as to outright ask Laura Zalaznick to let us program the channel for a day. They declined our picks of the epic "Stoned," starring Scott Baio (This epitomizes the 1970s for me), the British cult classic -- read: cheaply acquired -- "Poldark," Fame the tv series, and The Richard Pryor Show.
Trio, if you don't already know, is dying a broadband death. According to the Los Angeles Daily News:
"NBC Universal is shutting down Trio, but will keep the cheeky pop-culture television network alive as a broadband offering.
"Trio, perhaps best-known for show-business documentaries and its 'Brilliant, but Cancelled' series resurrecting short-lived TV shows, is currently available in only 9 million of the nation's 110 million television homes. It will sign off at the end of the year, NBC said Monday.
"Its fate was effectively sealed last year when it was bought by NBC Universal, which also owns the similar and more widely distributed Bravo. Trio was subsequently dropped by DirecTV, taking away more than half of its distribution, and prospects for going wider were dim.
"But it will relaunch on Jan. 1 as a broadband network under the BravoTV.com banner, a prospect that would have been laughable only months ago but now is a serious business prospect. MTV, VH1, Comedy Central and Nickelodeon have all recently started their own online networks."
So, while not laughable outright, it surely cannot be construed as a promotion. And since artsy sites don't make much in the way of ad revenue, here's hoping some young, ambitious person takes hold of the site and does edgy things with it.
Trio will be remembered by its gay longtime companion, Bravo TV.
RIP, Trio.
Naomi Versus Nicole at Bungalow 8
(image at danwei.org)
Clearly, the gorgeous but highly volatile Naomi Campbell has anger management issues. Big time. We were quite surpised actually that she went so long without beating someone silly in the cookie with some electronic gizmo or doodad as is her wont. This time, though, not content with dispatching a single foe, she picks a fight across the gender divide with both Marc Jacobs and Nicole Ritchie.
(A considerable pause) We cannot fail to note here that Jacobs and Ritchie are among two of the most nonthreatening motherfuckers on the planet earth.
Perhaps Naomi is losing some of her "fierce forces"? (The Corsair pours himself a snifter of 1981 Armagnac Cames) There was once a time when the name Naomi Campbell was synonymous with ultraviolence in modelling. Yachting in St. Barts enough times, we suppose, will take the street out of anyone, even Naomi. According to Lowdown (link via Gawker):
"Nicole Richie seems to have learned the hard way that hell hath no fury like Naomi Campbell scorned.
Lowdown hears that in the wee hours the other night at Bungalow 8, Campbell exploded into a profanity-laced tirade about the diminutive 'Simple Life' star - a longtime friend - after she apparently ignored Campbell's instructions not to hang out with Nicky Hilton, a Naomi nemesis who was partying nearby in the club.
"An eyewitness reports: 'Naomi started screaming at her publicist, 'That f-ing b- Nicole Richie, I hate her!' ... Nicole was sitting 3 feet away, and Naomi was just screaming over her head. Nicole clearly heard, but was ignoring it.'
"After Campbell was done slicing and dicing her pal, says the spy, she directed her wrath at designer Marc Jacobs, 'cornering him against the wall, yelling at him about something.'"
(image at danwei.org)
Clearly, the gorgeous but highly volatile Naomi Campbell has anger management issues. Big time. We were quite surpised actually that she went so long without beating someone silly in the cookie with some electronic gizmo or doodad as is her wont. This time, though, not content with dispatching a single foe, she picks a fight across the gender divide with both Marc Jacobs and Nicole Ritchie.
(A considerable pause) We cannot fail to note here that Jacobs and Ritchie are among two of the most nonthreatening motherfuckers on the planet earth.
Perhaps Naomi is losing some of her "fierce forces"? (The Corsair pours himself a snifter of 1981 Armagnac Cames) There was once a time when the name Naomi Campbell was synonymous with ultraviolence in modelling. Yachting in St. Barts enough times, we suppose, will take the street out of anyone, even Naomi. According to Lowdown (link via Gawker):
"Nicole Richie seems to have learned the hard way that hell hath no fury like Naomi Campbell scorned.
Lowdown hears that in the wee hours the other night at Bungalow 8, Campbell exploded into a profanity-laced tirade about the diminutive 'Simple Life' star - a longtime friend - after she apparently ignored Campbell's instructions not to hang out with Nicky Hilton, a Naomi nemesis who was partying nearby in the club.
"An eyewitness reports: 'Naomi started screaming at her publicist, 'That f-ing b- Nicole Richie, I hate her!' ... Nicole was sitting 3 feet away, and Naomi was just screaming over her head. Nicole clearly heard, but was ignoring it.'
"After Campbell was done slicing and dicing her pal, says the spy, she directed her wrath at designer Marc Jacobs, 'cornering him against the wall, yelling at him about something.'"
A Little of the Old In and Out
(image via chron)
In: Howard Stern. Stern, who will be profiled by Ed Bradley on 60 Minutes this Sunday (No spraying of hot tears, but there were misty eyes when Ed took him back to Roosevelt, Long Island), is not only changing the landscape of radio, but Video InDemand as well. According to Reuters:
"There was a time when Howard Stern fans could hear -- but not see -- a naked porn star giving a hot-oil massage on TV uncensored.
"But that was before Stern began offering his work on video-on-demand November 18 with new TV partner In Demand Networks. Stern has dug up never-before-viewed moments that were too raunchy for his previous TV home, E! Entertainment.
"The freedom of subscription-based cable and satellite might keep Stern from testing the FCC's patience. But something else will be put to the test as Stern provides In Demand fresh product not only from his vault, but his new Sirius Satellite Radio program next year: Can Stern help redefine VOD as a home for original programing and In Demand as a leading source of that content?
"'I think he can for In Demand and I think he can for video-on-demand as well,' In Demand president and CEO Rob Jacobson said. 'Both of us are really going to benefit from a personality of his caliber.'"
Drudge behind the scenes on Stern's 60 Minutes here.
Oof! (image via caglecartoons via slate)
Out: What will Eisner do Next? Who gives a fuck? Well, Tinseltown, apparently; it's the new parlor game. The word "Broadway," quixotically, keeps coming up in connection to the name Eisner (The Broadway play was the pimp move in, like, 1957, Michael). According to the LA Times (link via iwantmedia):
"How does a media mogul who has run a world-famous corporation for two decades suddenly transform himself into an entrepreneur? If you are Michael Eisner, you turn to people you know and trust � the ones who previously worked for you.
"Since retiring as chief executive of Walt Disney Co. Sept. 30, Eisner has reached out to two senior executives who still work at the Burbank entertainment giant. Although he has stopped short of offering them jobs, he has broached the subject of working together in the future.
"The overtures � to studio production chief Nina Jacobson and former head of strategic planning Peter Murphy � underscore just how bound to Disney Eisner remains.By putting out feelers to former colleagues, Eisner, 63, has provided the first real clues about his budding post-Disney plans. In Hollywood, where information is power, his schmoozing has also enlivened what was already a favorite parlor game."
(image via israelnewsradio)
In: Gay Weddings. George Michaels announced in, we guess, a careless whisper that he is marrying his partner Kenny Goss next year. Next, South Africa's highest court affirmed the right of gay marriage. The 3AMGirls, who are casing the Elton John-David Furnish beat, posting daily updates, such as:
"Rod Stewart is prising open his wallet to hire a private jet to fly in for the big day from Belgium where he will be playing... Elton is torn between orchids and tulips for the wedding breakfast table centrepieces... David is eyeing up rings... there are problems over the ceremony's lighting - too harsh."
Gay marriage is the new black.
(image via CBSNews)
Out: Vladimir Putin. When last we left Putin, the Bush administration, stretched thin by the Iraq War, outsourced Iranian nuclear overight to Russia. This elegant diplomatic solution gave Russia what it has always wanted -- a little respect in the global theater. Putin got his groove back.
Before the international goodwill could even begin to manifest itself, however, Putin worked himself some wiggle room, restricting NGOs on the grounds of fear of Western corruption a la the rose and orange revolutions.
"Dictatorial paranoia, is the more likely culprit. (Averted Gaze)
Now, Putin is in rare autocratic form, letting his freak flag fly; this, from an editorial in today's Boston Globe:
" HARSH law on nongovernmental organizations that Russia's President Vladimir Putin and his Kremlin coterie are pushing through a docile Duma shows Putin's true colors. This is the move of an antidemocratic ruler acting on the paranoid belief of his security services that foreign human rights, educational, and medical organizations are disguised tools of Western intelligence agencies plotting to orchestrate a popular uprising in Russia like those that toppled corrupt regimes in Georgia and Ukraine.
Russian liberals are opposing Putin's crackdown on the NGOs. Former US senators Jack Kemp and John Edwards, co-chairmen of a Council on Foreign Relations task force on Russia, signed a cogent letter to President Bush last month warning that Putin's proposed legislation ''would roll back pluralism in Russia and curtail contact between our societies,' enabling the Kremlin 'to close down public organizations simply because it finds their views and activities inconvenient.'
"If the Kremlin is to be deflected from its effort to take control over the last remaining spheres of freedom for Russian civil society, Bush and other leaders of democratic nations will have to tell Putin that he cannot assume the chairmanship of the Group of Eight developed democracies in January while at the same time asphyxiating independent NGOs.
"The first reading of the proposed legislation, which was approved by a parliamentary vote of 370 to 18 last week, would extend to the 400,000 NGOs in Russia the sort of centralized control that Putin's inner circle has already imposed on the media, the judiciary, the major energy companies, and the regional governors, who are appointed by Putin."
(image via fishbowlny)
In: Lunch at Michael's. It looks like everyone whose everyone is back from their Thanksgiving excursions (The place was rather dead on Monday when we went) and Michael's -- once again -- is the power-center of the Chattering Classes, the place where a hungry media mogul can go to get a bowl of the greatest goddamned crab bisque in the entire cosmos. Our favorite Canadian, Rachel Sklar, assesses the talent in the room for FishbowlNY:
"Today was a busy, bustling day at Michael's under the brand-new Holiday decorations -- the place is festooned with wreaths, poinsettias, jaunty sprigs of pine and big happy red bows. All that is missing is mistletoe, which would probably make our 'Lunch at Michael's' posts even more exciting. Even so, today was pretty hopping. So without further ado, the lineup:
"... Table 6 - Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg celebrated her birthday with ICM superagent Esther Newberg, and three or four other equally stylish women. Lots of presents and a birthday cake but no singing. Aw.
"... Table 18 - We're jumping a few tables ahead because this one's a biggie: Henry Kissinger, former Secretary of State (and Christopher Hitchens BFF).
"... Table 4 - Owen Laster, head of the literary department at the William Morris Agency.
"Table 11 - MTV president Judy McGrath, sweeping in to dine with a chic woman (looked like an anchor).
"Table 8 - New York Social Diarist David Patrick Columbia, with a woman in a mink fur hat... Real estate agent Alice Mason.
"Table 12 - A fresh-faced and glamorous Ivanka Trump. No biggie unless you're into that whole rich, fabulous supermodel thing.
"... Table 14 - Big-shot editor Alice Mayhew, rumored to be working with Judith Miller on her rumored upcoming book. Remember Judith Miller?
"... Table 26 - Neal Shapiro, former president of NBC News, dining with Anne Curry of 'The Today Show,' chatting amiably. Wonder if they discussed the whole 'Will-Katie-Couric-go-to-CBS?' flap."
The full post here.
(image via chron)
In: Howard Stern. Stern, who will be profiled by Ed Bradley on 60 Minutes this Sunday (No spraying of hot tears, but there were misty eyes when Ed took him back to Roosevelt, Long Island), is not only changing the landscape of radio, but Video InDemand as well. According to Reuters:
"There was a time when Howard Stern fans could hear -- but not see -- a naked porn star giving a hot-oil massage on TV uncensored.
"But that was before Stern began offering his work on video-on-demand November 18 with new TV partner In Demand Networks. Stern has dug up never-before-viewed moments that were too raunchy for his previous TV home, E! Entertainment.
"The freedom of subscription-based cable and satellite might keep Stern from testing the FCC's patience. But something else will be put to the test as Stern provides In Demand fresh product not only from his vault, but his new Sirius Satellite Radio program next year: Can Stern help redefine VOD as a home for original programing and In Demand as a leading source of that content?
"'I think he can for In Demand and I think he can for video-on-demand as well,' In Demand president and CEO Rob Jacobson said. 'Both of us are really going to benefit from a personality of his caliber.'"
Drudge behind the scenes on Stern's 60 Minutes here.
Oof! (image via caglecartoons via slate)
Out: What will Eisner do Next? Who gives a fuck? Well, Tinseltown, apparently; it's the new parlor game. The word "Broadway," quixotically, keeps coming up in connection to the name Eisner (The Broadway play was the pimp move in, like, 1957, Michael). According to the LA Times (link via iwantmedia):
"How does a media mogul who has run a world-famous corporation for two decades suddenly transform himself into an entrepreneur? If you are Michael Eisner, you turn to people you know and trust � the ones who previously worked for you.
"Since retiring as chief executive of Walt Disney Co. Sept. 30, Eisner has reached out to two senior executives who still work at the Burbank entertainment giant. Although he has stopped short of offering them jobs, he has broached the subject of working together in the future.
"The overtures � to studio production chief Nina Jacobson and former head of strategic planning Peter Murphy � underscore just how bound to Disney Eisner remains.By putting out feelers to former colleagues, Eisner, 63, has provided the first real clues about his budding post-Disney plans. In Hollywood, where information is power, his schmoozing has also enlivened what was already a favorite parlor game."
(image via israelnewsradio)
In: Gay Weddings. George Michaels announced in, we guess, a careless whisper that he is marrying his partner Kenny Goss next year. Next, South Africa's highest court affirmed the right of gay marriage. The 3AMGirls, who are casing the Elton John-David Furnish beat, posting daily updates, such as:
"Rod Stewart is prising open his wallet to hire a private jet to fly in for the big day from Belgium where he will be playing... Elton is torn between orchids and tulips for the wedding breakfast table centrepieces... David is eyeing up rings... there are problems over the ceremony's lighting - too harsh."
Gay marriage is the new black.
(image via CBSNews)
Out: Vladimir Putin. When last we left Putin, the Bush administration, stretched thin by the Iraq War, outsourced Iranian nuclear overight to Russia. This elegant diplomatic solution gave Russia what it has always wanted -- a little respect in the global theater. Putin got his groove back.
Before the international goodwill could even begin to manifest itself, however, Putin worked himself some wiggle room, restricting NGOs on the grounds of fear of Western corruption a la the rose and orange revolutions.
"Dictatorial paranoia, is the more likely culprit. (Averted Gaze)
Now, Putin is in rare autocratic form, letting his freak flag fly; this, from an editorial in today's Boston Globe:
" HARSH law on nongovernmental organizations that Russia's President Vladimir Putin and his Kremlin coterie are pushing through a docile Duma shows Putin's true colors. This is the move of an antidemocratic ruler acting on the paranoid belief of his security services that foreign human rights, educational, and medical organizations are disguised tools of Western intelligence agencies plotting to orchestrate a popular uprising in Russia like those that toppled corrupt regimes in Georgia and Ukraine.
Russian liberals are opposing Putin's crackdown on the NGOs. Former US senators Jack Kemp and John Edwards, co-chairmen of a Council on Foreign Relations task force on Russia, signed a cogent letter to President Bush last month warning that Putin's proposed legislation ''would roll back pluralism in Russia and curtail contact between our societies,' enabling the Kremlin 'to close down public organizations simply because it finds their views and activities inconvenient.'
"If the Kremlin is to be deflected from its effort to take control over the last remaining spheres of freedom for Russian civil society, Bush and other leaders of democratic nations will have to tell Putin that he cannot assume the chairmanship of the Group of Eight developed democracies in January while at the same time asphyxiating independent NGOs.
"The first reading of the proposed legislation, which was approved by a parliamentary vote of 370 to 18 last week, would extend to the 400,000 NGOs in Russia the sort of centralized control that Putin's inner circle has already imposed on the media, the judiciary, the major energy companies, and the regional governors, who are appointed by Putin."
(image via fishbowlny)
In: Lunch at Michael's. It looks like everyone whose everyone is back from their Thanksgiving excursions (The place was rather dead on Monday when we went) and Michael's -- once again -- is the power-center of the Chattering Classes, the place where a hungry media mogul can go to get a bowl of the greatest goddamned crab bisque in the entire cosmos. Our favorite Canadian, Rachel Sklar, assesses the talent in the room for FishbowlNY:
"Today was a busy, bustling day at Michael's under the brand-new Holiday decorations -- the place is festooned with wreaths, poinsettias, jaunty sprigs of pine and big happy red bows. All that is missing is mistletoe, which would probably make our 'Lunch at Michael's' posts even more exciting. Even so, today was pretty hopping. So without further ado, the lineup:
"... Table 6 - Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg celebrated her birthday with ICM superagent Esther Newberg, and three or four other equally stylish women. Lots of presents and a birthday cake but no singing. Aw.
"... Table 18 - We're jumping a few tables ahead because this one's a biggie: Henry Kissinger, former Secretary of State (and Christopher Hitchens BFF).
"... Table 4 - Owen Laster, head of the literary department at the William Morris Agency.
"Table 11 - MTV president Judy McGrath, sweeping in to dine with a chic woman (looked like an anchor).
"Table 8 - New York Social Diarist David Patrick Columbia, with a woman in a mink fur hat... Real estate agent Alice Mason.
"Table 12 - A fresh-faced and glamorous Ivanka Trump. No biggie unless you're into that whole rich, fabulous supermodel thing.
"... Table 14 - Big-shot editor Alice Mayhew, rumored to be working with Judith Miller on her rumored upcoming book. Remember Judith Miller?
"... Table 26 - Neal Shapiro, former president of NBC News, dining with Anne Curry of 'The Today Show,' chatting amiably. Wonder if they discussed the whole 'Will-Katie-Couric-go-to-CBS?' flap."
The full post here.
Kate Moss Guest Edits French Vogue
(image via fashionweekdaily)
Superloser and ex-rentboy/crackhead/ "minuteman" Pete Doherty (Averted Gaze), who just got out of the same rehab that his ex-girlfriend left, was just arrested on suspicion of drugs. In fact, the 3AM Girls report that Doherty allegedly rolled a joint while waiting to be questioned by the cops. Classy.
Kate Moss, on the other hand, is experiencing a career rennaisance. According to Fashionweekdaily:
"In the special December issue of French Vogue, which hits newsstands in Europe later this week, the supermodel utilizes her guest-editing skills in a series of couture-centered stories that peg her as the 'scandaleuse beaut�,' or scandalous beauty.
"In a firsthand look at the issue, a Daily exclusive�of which four covers were created based on director Jean Cocteau�s 1946 French film, La Belle et la B�te (Beauty and the Beast)�the magazine�s creative director, Fabien Baron, offered a simple reason for choosing multiple covers instead of the traditional single. 'We couldn�t make up our mind which one we liked the best,' he offered.
"... After Moss� unfortunate drug allegations generated a worldwide scandal, the model, who had designed the initial structure of the stories, sought rehabilitation and as a result, became unavailable to finish several of the main fashion wells. As Baron noted, a couple of pages had to be reinvented and 'one of the stories should�ve had all photos of her, but it wasn�t her in the end.'
"Baron didn�t want to give away too much, but he did touch upon some highlights. The issue�s longest article, written by Sheryl Garratt (a freelance English journalist who was once editor in chief of The Face), traces Moss� life, career, and her rise to fashion icon status, and is accompanied by a series of photos Mario Testino shots, along with Moss� own personal pictures, as well as French Vogue�s own portraits. A portfolio homage to Moss was also created, where major photographers from Bruce Weber to Steven Klein to Patrick Demarchelier to Testino, each dedicated one photo and quote about Moss and how inspiring she has been to each of them.
"But even with all the pretty dresses and sugary quotes, what�s most potentially touching is the picture Moss herself selected for the issue�s opener. The 'This was not a paparazzi photo; Kate took it herself and gave it to us,' Baron stated."
The full article here.
(image via fashionweekdaily)
Superloser and ex-rentboy/crackhead/ "minuteman" Pete Doherty (Averted Gaze), who just got out of the same rehab that his ex-girlfriend left, was just arrested on suspicion of drugs. In fact, the 3AM Girls report that Doherty allegedly rolled a joint while waiting to be questioned by the cops. Classy.
Kate Moss, on the other hand, is experiencing a career rennaisance. According to Fashionweekdaily:
"In the special December issue of French Vogue, which hits newsstands in Europe later this week, the supermodel utilizes her guest-editing skills in a series of couture-centered stories that peg her as the 'scandaleuse beaut�,' or scandalous beauty.
"In a firsthand look at the issue, a Daily exclusive�of which four covers were created based on director Jean Cocteau�s 1946 French film, La Belle et la B�te (Beauty and the Beast)�the magazine�s creative director, Fabien Baron, offered a simple reason for choosing multiple covers instead of the traditional single. 'We couldn�t make up our mind which one we liked the best,' he offered.
"... After Moss� unfortunate drug allegations generated a worldwide scandal, the model, who had designed the initial structure of the stories, sought rehabilitation and as a result, became unavailable to finish several of the main fashion wells. As Baron noted, a couple of pages had to be reinvented and 'one of the stories should�ve had all photos of her, but it wasn�t her in the end.'
"Baron didn�t want to give away too much, but he did touch upon some highlights. The issue�s longest article, written by Sheryl Garratt (a freelance English journalist who was once editor in chief of The Face), traces Moss� life, career, and her rise to fashion icon status, and is accompanied by a series of photos Mario Testino shots, along with Moss� own personal pictures, as well as French Vogue�s own portraits. A portfolio homage to Moss was also created, where major photographers from Bruce Weber to Steven Klein to Patrick Demarchelier to Testino, each dedicated one photo and quote about Moss and how inspiring she has been to each of them.
"But even with all the pretty dresses and sugary quotes, what�s most potentially touching is the picture Moss herself selected for the issue�s opener. The 'This was not a paparazzi photo; Kate took it herself and gave it to us,' Baron stated."
The full article here.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
The Conde Nast Holiday Lunch; Or, Who Sits with Si?
As in Dante's Paradiso where the name of the game is proximity to The Big Guy, similarly, at the Conde Nast holiday luncheon today, the name of the game is to sit at Si Newhouse's powertable. (image via cinemythology)
Ah, joy: It's that time of the year again. The Conde Nast holiday lunch. The Byzantine politics of Conde Nast are laid bare in the stark symbolism of who sits where (The consumer magazines, no doubt, will be relegated to the outer periphery of Si Newhouse's nimbus of obscene power). The farther away one's table is from the benevolent grace of Si, the closer to the Dantean rings of the Inferno -- namely: existence in the absence of Si. The excellent Keith Kelly of the NYPost will, no doubt, be casing the joint with a photographer in tow to give us the goodies.
Forget outmoded questions like: Will Graydon Carter light up indoors? (Averted Gaze) Rather, ask yourselves the meaty, ground-of-being question: Who will be sitting at Si's table? Will Jay Fielden of Men's Vogue get a ticket to the big leagues?
Next question -- more juicy by a whisker -- Who ought to be sitting at Si's table, but isn't? Lance Ford of Cargo ought to be at the Si table, IMHO, the only table that matters -- but will he?
Last year, we speculated:
"Ah, the holidays are here again, and that means missletoe, the ambient dulcet tones of Manheim Steamroller, pine needles on the street, the Charlie Brown special (The Corsair gets a tad fucking misty during that show), and, to be sure, that silly woman who makes a proper ass of herself and invariably gets dragged home through the chilly streets of New York by her patient chums because she drank too much brandied egg nog at the company party ('You guysh ... are the besssst'), and, finally, the Conde Nast Four Seasons editor and publisher bash.
"Imagine for a moment the ambitious, Prada-clad collective egos assembled in that VIP room ever-ready to brown their noses on Si Newhouse's billionaire tushy; all that fucking hot gas and fake bonhommie in a single combustible location. (Averted Gaze) No wonder there is no smoking permitted.
And, from Medialife last year:
"'Medialife: Every year it seems you have devoted some words to the seating order at the tables nearest Si Newhouse and what it all means. Cond� Nast watchers of course gobble up your insights. Yet each year it also seems you quote Maurie Perle, CN's spokesperson, tossing cold water on the whole notion that where people sit means anything at all. Who's right here, you or her?
"Keith Kelly: ...It is not as perfect as the old Cond� Nast annual group picture. They abandoned that some years ago, right around the time Tina Brown dropped out of the scene. I think they should bring it back. It was always Anna to the right of Si, Tina to the left. The seating is not quite as meticulous as the photo, but there is some thought process behind it. I think it is no coincidence that the embattled Graydon [Carter editor of Vanity Fair] got a good seat this year. And when The New Yorker finally went into the black a few years ago, they were sitting pretty as well. And you can be pretty sure that Si and or the CEO are not going to look at someone through a long holiday lunch and then fire him first chance they get in the new year. Given that, there is also a conscious effort to rotate. So in the end, neither one of us are 100 percent right. They are just clues that have to be put together with other clues."
More of The Corsair's take on it:
"... Oh, look (waves fakely; Condenastyish), and there's Lucky Editor in Chief Kim France who, like Christ's neighbor, the crucified robber who repented at the last minute, now sits on Si Newhouse's left hand ('... and ascended into heaven'), at the power table ('.. to judge the living and the dead').
"Metaphors of Paradise abound, ringing -- like Silver bells -- true here as Conde Nast is the Nirvana of glossies, lo ultimo. Just as Dante Aligheri places the true Paradiso in the Empyrean, situated outside the universe, and therefore, my fellow grad-students of the Byzantine rituals of Conde Nast, outside of space and time, those outer tables, those Fairchild consumer magazine tables, far away from the Mystic Rose, that celestial choir that is Si Newhouse, are less appealing, less -- shall we say -- 'holy.'
"And would it be a far stretch of the imagination to envision the editors at Conde Nast dressed in ermine like Castiglione's courtier? Why, Teen Vogue Editor-in-Chief Amy Astley is seated so close to Si that she can just ... just dip her head, slightly ... and gently brush her rose lips 'gainst Si's signet ring.
"Not since the Court of the Sun King has anyone assembled such a crowd of nonpareil beauty and excellence commingles with a desire to kiss Si's ass. There -- look -- far out in the distance, out of the consoling heat of Si Newhouse's ambit, Eva Dillon of Cookie. If she cranes her neck just so, she might -- just might -- catch a gander at Si's lordly brow, framed by a fawning Graydon and Anna, as Si tucks meaningfully into his luncheon of oh, let's say: beef cheeks. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) A feast, to be sure, for sore, Conde Nastish peepers. "
As in Dante's Paradiso where the name of the game is proximity to The Big Guy, similarly, at the Conde Nast holiday luncheon today, the name of the game is to sit at Si Newhouse's powertable. (image via cinemythology)
Ah, joy: It's that time of the year again. The Conde Nast holiday lunch. The Byzantine politics of Conde Nast are laid bare in the stark symbolism of who sits where (The consumer magazines, no doubt, will be relegated to the outer periphery of Si Newhouse's nimbus of obscene power). The farther away one's table is from the benevolent grace of Si, the closer to the Dantean rings of the Inferno -- namely: existence in the absence of Si. The excellent Keith Kelly of the NYPost will, no doubt, be casing the joint with a photographer in tow to give us the goodies.
Forget outmoded questions like: Will Graydon Carter light up indoors? (Averted Gaze) Rather, ask yourselves the meaty, ground-of-being question: Who will be sitting at Si's table? Will Jay Fielden of Men's Vogue get a ticket to the big leagues?
Next question -- more juicy by a whisker -- Who ought to be sitting at Si's table, but isn't? Lance Ford of Cargo ought to be at the Si table, IMHO, the only table that matters -- but will he?
Last year, we speculated:
"Ah, the holidays are here again, and that means missletoe, the ambient dulcet tones of Manheim Steamroller, pine needles on the street, the Charlie Brown special (The Corsair gets a tad fucking misty during that show), and, to be sure, that silly woman who makes a proper ass of herself and invariably gets dragged home through the chilly streets of New York by her patient chums because she drank too much brandied egg nog at the company party ('You guysh ... are the besssst'), and, finally, the Conde Nast Four Seasons editor and publisher bash.
"Imagine for a moment the ambitious, Prada-clad collective egos assembled in that VIP room ever-ready to brown their noses on Si Newhouse's billionaire tushy; all that fucking hot gas and fake bonhommie in a single combustible location. (Averted Gaze) No wonder there is no smoking permitted.
And, from Medialife last year:
"'Medialife: Every year it seems you have devoted some words to the seating order at the tables nearest Si Newhouse and what it all means. Cond� Nast watchers of course gobble up your insights. Yet each year it also seems you quote Maurie Perle, CN's spokesperson, tossing cold water on the whole notion that where people sit means anything at all. Who's right here, you or her?
"Keith Kelly: ...It is not as perfect as the old Cond� Nast annual group picture. They abandoned that some years ago, right around the time Tina Brown dropped out of the scene. I think they should bring it back. It was always Anna to the right of Si, Tina to the left. The seating is not quite as meticulous as the photo, but there is some thought process behind it. I think it is no coincidence that the embattled Graydon [Carter editor of Vanity Fair] got a good seat this year. And when The New Yorker finally went into the black a few years ago, they were sitting pretty as well. And you can be pretty sure that Si and or the CEO are not going to look at someone through a long holiday lunch and then fire him first chance they get in the new year. Given that, there is also a conscious effort to rotate. So in the end, neither one of us are 100 percent right. They are just clues that have to be put together with other clues."
More of The Corsair's take on it:
"... Oh, look (waves fakely; Condenastyish), and there's Lucky Editor in Chief Kim France who, like Christ's neighbor, the crucified robber who repented at the last minute, now sits on Si Newhouse's left hand ('... and ascended into heaven'), at the power table ('.. to judge the living and the dead').
"Metaphors of Paradise abound, ringing -- like Silver bells -- true here as Conde Nast is the Nirvana of glossies, lo ultimo. Just as Dante Aligheri places the true Paradiso in the Empyrean, situated outside the universe, and therefore, my fellow grad-students of the Byzantine rituals of Conde Nast, outside of space and time, those outer tables, those Fairchild consumer magazine tables, far away from the Mystic Rose, that celestial choir that is Si Newhouse, are less appealing, less -- shall we say -- 'holy.'
"And would it be a far stretch of the imagination to envision the editors at Conde Nast dressed in ermine like Castiglione's courtier? Why, Teen Vogue Editor-in-Chief Amy Astley is seated so close to Si that she can just ... just dip her head, slightly ... and gently brush her rose lips 'gainst Si's signet ring.
"Not since the Court of the Sun King has anyone assembled such a crowd of nonpareil beauty and excellence commingles with a desire to kiss Si's ass. There -- look -- far out in the distance, out of the consoling heat of Si Newhouse's ambit, Eva Dillon of Cookie. If she cranes her neck just so, she might -- just might -- catch a gander at Si's lordly brow, framed by a fawning Graydon and Anna, as Si tucks meaningfully into his luncheon of oh, let's say: beef cheeks. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) A feast, to be sure, for sore, Conde Nastish peepers. "
A Little of the Old In and Out
(image via artnet)
In: Gore Vidal. The Corsair finished the Michael Gross' meticulously researched and perfectly gossipy 740 Park, and, afterwards, Voltaire Almighty, and now we are on to The Lessons of Gore Vidal published by Duke University Press.
Something tells me that the infinitely witty, urbane and learned Gore Vidal, who'se political career calls to mind Tom Paine (With a dash of Somerset Maugham by way of Suetonius), would approve of this whole blogging-as-the fifth-estate phenomenon (Why, o why isn't he on the HuffPo?). From Carlin Romano of the Philadelphia Inquirer:
" Vidal, the grandson of U.S. Sen. Thomas Gore (D., Okla.), remains the patrician, elegantly groomed, acerbic commentator who for decades turned up on the nation's talk shows from David Susskind to Dick Cavett, dispensing urbane wit and battling the likes of Norman Mailer and William F. Buckley Jr., before disappearing back to his privileged life in Italy.
"Now Marcie Frank, an English professor at Concordia University, offers up Vidal as one of the first literary figures to grasp the need for novelists and intellectuals to leapfrog the print/TV gap. To her, he's the writer who 'more ably negotiated the shift from print to screen' than any of his contemporaries, who exemplified 'successful management of literary fame in the age of TV,' who still "seeks the broadest audience that he can access.'
"Frank cites Vidal's own pronouncements as part of her evidence. Once, she reports, when assured by an interviewer that he was still a famous novelist, Vidal replied, 'There is no such thing anymore.'
"What he meant, Frank explains, is that by the mid-20th century, 'one could be famous and a novelist but not famous as a novelist.' As Vidal put it in his book Screening History, 'Today where literature was, movies are.'"
Let's hope the blog figures prominently somewhere in there, shall we? The Lessons of Gore Vidal is available here.
The bitch-face, triumphant. (image via rp-online.com via AP Photo/Joe Cavaretta)
Out: Jacko. We don't really want to know what "Booger Sugar" was doing in Michael Jackson's underpants -- underpanties? --where, to be frank, his blotchy wenis ought to be nestled, snugly; but if the British press says it is allegedly so, then we'll take their word for it.
Perhaps Jacko's over-surguried waifer-thin nasal cavity is unable to handle the "volume"? We can only speculate idly as to why residue of Bolivian Marching Powder found its way onto his the crevices of his groin region.
We love to cover, though, the Felliniesque atmospherics that surround Jacko's universe (Complete with an eerie Nino Rota soundtrack of electric noise and an ancient, sarcastic laughter). What, when Jacko is not allegedly mourning the post-coital assasination of his pet monkey, Bubbles, or -- better yet -- lounging about with his personal court jester, Majestik Magnificent, or even when he is, ehr, "regurgitating all the way to the bank," like, well ... a freak without warning. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
Now, according to Emily Smith of TheSun:
"TRACES of cocaine were found on Michael Jackson�s underwear during a police raid, it was revealed yesterday.
"The discovery emerged as the troubled singer faced shock new claims that he is abusing and trafficking drugs.
"Cops are secretly investigating allegations by former aides that Jacko, 47, is hooked on anti-depressants and painkillers.
"They say he pops up to 40 pills a day � and was seen falling flat on his face after injecting himself with a mystery drug."
WTF?!
(image via edge.org)
In: Lunch at Michael's. Pouty lipped media scribbler Michael Wolff is still MIA at Michael's. Oh, Michael, really, just accept the flowers and rejoin The Chattering Classes at Table 5, already; sheesh. According to our favorite social chronicler, David Patrick Columbia, who according to the intrepid Page Sixxies, is going to "host a party tonight for Julie Baumgold's new book, 'The Diamond,' at Graff's Madison Avenue store," and writes in NYSocialDiary:
"Michael�s, now resplendent with its holiday decorations of swags of evergreen and big red bows decorating the rooms, drew a big luncheon crowd including ... New School president, former US Senator Bob Kerrey; uber-editor Alice Mayhew talking shop probably with uber-agent Binky Urban. A table away, former uber-editor/literary agent Joni Evans probably talking some kind of shop with National Television Academy (Emmy Awards) Peter Price ... Marc Rosen holding forth at a table of eight, Broadway producer Fran Weissler; mag editors, Good Housekeeping�s Ellen Levine and Newsweek�s Dorothy Kalins; Lorna Graev, Mike Strohl, Beverly Camhe; former Paramount exec and film colony scion John Goldwyn; Bway producing partners Terry Allen Kramer and Liz McCann; Manolo Blahnik president George Malkemus with the Times� premier fashion critic Cathy Horyn; Barbara Walters at the corner table ... and at the table next to mine, the queen of 'Can We Talk?' that glama-puss herself, Miss Joan Rivers."
The full, unexpurgated list here.
(image via usatoday)
Out: Google. Ann Mather's ascention notwithstanding, newly minted millionaire Jason Calacanis has some interesting things to say about Google and the possible impending bubble bursting. According to Reuters:
"Shares in Web-search leader Google Inc. slid 4.7 percent on Tuesday, their biggest decline in a year, as analysts expressed concern that its stock was overpriced after soaring 40 percent in two months.
"Merrill Lynch analyst Lauren Rich Fine said in a research note on Monday that Google needs to develop new sources of revenue beyond its booming search advertising business to justify the current valuation on the stock.
"But she also pointed out that as Google enters new businesses and becomes increasingly dominant on the Web, it was starting to get negative publicity, which could dampen some interest in its shares."
(image via artnet)
In: Gore Vidal. The Corsair finished the Michael Gross' meticulously researched and perfectly gossipy 740 Park, and, afterwards, Voltaire Almighty, and now we are on to The Lessons of Gore Vidal published by Duke University Press.
Something tells me that the infinitely witty, urbane and learned Gore Vidal, who'se political career calls to mind Tom Paine (With a dash of Somerset Maugham by way of Suetonius), would approve of this whole blogging-as-the fifth-estate phenomenon (Why, o why isn't he on the HuffPo?). From Carlin Romano of the Philadelphia Inquirer:
" Vidal, the grandson of U.S. Sen. Thomas Gore (D., Okla.), remains the patrician, elegantly groomed, acerbic commentator who for decades turned up on the nation's talk shows from David Susskind to Dick Cavett, dispensing urbane wit and battling the likes of Norman Mailer and William F. Buckley Jr., before disappearing back to his privileged life in Italy.
"Now Marcie Frank, an English professor at Concordia University, offers up Vidal as one of the first literary figures to grasp the need for novelists and intellectuals to leapfrog the print/TV gap. To her, he's the writer who 'more ably negotiated the shift from print to screen' than any of his contemporaries, who exemplified 'successful management of literary fame in the age of TV,' who still "seeks the broadest audience that he can access.'
"Frank cites Vidal's own pronouncements as part of her evidence. Once, she reports, when assured by an interviewer that he was still a famous novelist, Vidal replied, 'There is no such thing anymore.'
"What he meant, Frank explains, is that by the mid-20th century, 'one could be famous and a novelist but not famous as a novelist.' As Vidal put it in his book Screening History, 'Today where literature was, movies are.'"
Let's hope the blog figures prominently somewhere in there, shall we? The Lessons of Gore Vidal is available here.
The bitch-face, triumphant. (image via rp-online.com via AP Photo/Joe Cavaretta)
Out: Jacko. We don't really want to know what "Booger Sugar" was doing in Michael Jackson's underpants -- underpanties? --where, to be frank, his blotchy wenis ought to be nestled, snugly; but if the British press says it is allegedly so, then we'll take their word for it.
Perhaps Jacko's over-surguried waifer-thin nasal cavity is unable to handle the "volume"? We can only speculate idly as to why residue of Bolivian Marching Powder found its way onto his the crevices of his groin region.
We love to cover, though, the Felliniesque atmospherics that surround Jacko's universe (Complete with an eerie Nino Rota soundtrack of electric noise and an ancient, sarcastic laughter). What, when Jacko is not allegedly mourning the post-coital assasination of his pet monkey, Bubbles, or -- better yet -- lounging about with his personal court jester, Majestik Magnificent, or even when he is, ehr, "regurgitating all the way to the bank," like, well ... a freak without warning. (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
Now, according to Emily Smith of TheSun:
"TRACES of cocaine were found on Michael Jackson�s underwear during a police raid, it was revealed yesterday.
"The discovery emerged as the troubled singer faced shock new claims that he is abusing and trafficking drugs.
"Cops are secretly investigating allegations by former aides that Jacko, 47, is hooked on anti-depressants and painkillers.
"They say he pops up to 40 pills a day � and was seen falling flat on his face after injecting himself with a mystery drug."
WTF?!
(image via edge.org)
In: Lunch at Michael's. Pouty lipped media scribbler Michael Wolff is still MIA at Michael's. Oh, Michael, really, just accept the flowers and rejoin The Chattering Classes at Table 5, already; sheesh. According to our favorite social chronicler, David Patrick Columbia, who according to the intrepid Page Sixxies, is going to "host a party tonight for Julie Baumgold's new book, 'The Diamond,' at Graff's Madison Avenue store," and writes in NYSocialDiary:
"Michael�s, now resplendent with its holiday decorations of swags of evergreen and big red bows decorating the rooms, drew a big luncheon crowd including ... New School president, former US Senator Bob Kerrey; uber-editor Alice Mayhew talking shop probably with uber-agent Binky Urban. A table away, former uber-editor/literary agent Joni Evans probably talking some kind of shop with National Television Academy (Emmy Awards) Peter Price ... Marc Rosen holding forth at a table of eight, Broadway producer Fran Weissler; mag editors, Good Housekeeping�s Ellen Levine and Newsweek�s Dorothy Kalins; Lorna Graev, Mike Strohl, Beverly Camhe; former Paramount exec and film colony scion John Goldwyn; Bway producing partners Terry Allen Kramer and Liz McCann; Manolo Blahnik president George Malkemus with the Times� premier fashion critic Cathy Horyn; Barbara Walters at the corner table ... and at the table next to mine, the queen of 'Can We Talk?' that glama-puss herself, Miss Joan Rivers."
The full, unexpurgated list here.
(image via usatoday)
Out: Google. Ann Mather's ascention notwithstanding, newly minted millionaire Jason Calacanis has some interesting things to say about Google and the possible impending bubble bursting. According to Reuters:
"Shares in Web-search leader Google Inc. slid 4.7 percent on Tuesday, their biggest decline in a year, as analysts expressed concern that its stock was overpriced after soaring 40 percent in two months.
"Merrill Lynch analyst Lauren Rich Fine said in a research note on Monday that Google needs to develop new sources of revenue beyond its booming search advertising business to justify the current valuation on the stock.
"But she also pointed out that as Google enters new businesses and becomes increasingly dominant on the Web, it was starting to get negative publicity, which could dampen some interest in its shares."
"Duke" Keeps His Pension, Floor Access
(image via photos1.blogger)
Disgraced former Congressman "Duke" Cunningham will keep not only his pension, but, incredibly, unlimited floor access to the House of Representatives, which, ironically, could allow an admitted bribe taker to actually lobby members of Congress at a fat salary after he gets out of the pokey. From Jackie Kucinich of TheHill:
"Rep. Randy 'Duke' Cunningham (R-Calif.) will soon relinquish many of his properties and his freedom after pleading guilty to charges of fraud and conspiracy, but he will keep his government pension and could retain the privileges enjoyed by other former members of Congress.
"Cunningham has served in the House 17 years, and his right to his federal pension will not be affected by his crimes, according to a senior House aide familiar with the rules.
"... Ordinarily, upon leaving Congress, former House members, like former senators, get lifetime floor privileges, access to the gym and a parking space."
The floor privilege access would make The Duker a gold prospect for any lobbying firm on K-Street. Come on, Congress (The Corsair intones for posterity): Revoke his privileges!
(image via photos1.blogger)
Disgraced former Congressman "Duke" Cunningham will keep not only his pension, but, incredibly, unlimited floor access to the House of Representatives, which, ironically, could allow an admitted bribe taker to actually lobby members of Congress at a fat salary after he gets out of the pokey. From Jackie Kucinich of TheHill:
"Rep. Randy 'Duke' Cunningham (R-Calif.) will soon relinquish many of his properties and his freedom after pleading guilty to charges of fraud and conspiracy, but he will keep his government pension and could retain the privileges enjoyed by other former members of Congress.
"Cunningham has served in the House 17 years, and his right to his federal pension will not be affected by his crimes, according to a senior House aide familiar with the rules.
"... Ordinarily, upon leaving Congress, former House members, like former senators, get lifetime floor privileges, access to the gym and a parking space."
The floor privilege access would make The Duker a gold prospect for any lobbying firm on K-Street. Come on, Congress (The Corsair intones for posterity): Revoke his privileges!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Picture Pages, Picture Pages ...
Chill out, kick back, crack open an adult beverage if you will, and stare -- you are now becoming sleepy -- into the insouciant eyes of .... Hasseloff. (image via gofugyourself)
It was a jaded town after all, so when "Ass-for-Free" was suddenly offered, everybody seemed a little skeptical. (image via thecobrasnake)
If the legendary 70's Mime-tertainers Shields and Yarnell had creepy test-tube babies ... (image via thecobrasnake)
Chill out, kick back, crack open an adult beverage if you will, and stare -- you are now becoming sleepy -- into the insouciant eyes of .... Hasseloff. (image via gofugyourself)
It was a jaded town after all, so when "Ass-for-Free" was suddenly offered, everybody seemed a little skeptical. (image via thecobrasnake)
If the legendary 70's Mime-tertainers Shields and Yarnell had creepy test-tube babies ... (image via thecobrasnake)
Washington's Culture of Corruption
Greed. (image via bryan-talbott)
It is almost impossible to name a recent fundraiser for either party that doesn't carry about them the stink of corruption. Remember former Senator Torricelli, moist eyed, shamelessly running for reelection (!) with a tristate area ad blitz of the campign commercial entitled, unironically, "I'm Sorry"?
Aggressive fundraising and the whiff of sleaze go together, forever, like peanut butter and jelly. One doesn't get to Congress without a certain amount of boldness, and boldness, above all other virtues, is rewarded in DC. Too much so, perhaps; the accumulation of power leads to a feeling of invulnerability which leads to ... corruption. The catastrophic fall of Congressman Duke Cunningham only refocused our attention on the ball that the DC media types have clearly dropped: the influence of money in DC is far, far too great.
In Washington, eager, ambitious Congressmen and Senators rise quickly in their party ranks by shilling to the corporations and the lobbyists of K-Street, shucking and jiving with stale jokes and robust backslapping at rubber chicken and wine dinners as massive checks in exchange for a "seat at the table" and "favorable legislation" are passed, like the Dutchie, to the left hand side.
Everyone knows this; nobody does anything. Such is the state of American politics in the hour of the wolf.
Senator John McCain tried, for years, to curb this extravagant display of magnificent horseshit. Undeterred, the influence of money in politics staggers forward with hideous strength. Today Jeff Birnbaum of the Washington Post writes:
"For several years now, corporations and other wealthy interests have made ever-larger campaign contributions, gifts and sponsored trips part of the culture of Capitol Hill. But now, with fresh guilty pleas by a lawmaker and a public relations executive, federal prosecutors -- and perhaps average voters -- may be concluding that the commingling of money and politics has gone too far.
"After years in which big-dollar dealings have come to dominate the interaction between lobbyists and lawmakers, both sides are now facing what could be a wave of prosecutions in the courts and an uprising at the ballot box. Extreme examples of the new business-as-usual are no longer tolerated."
One of the reasons that these stories weren't really pursued in the press is that the Washington press corps -- unlike bloggers -- are so stuck up the goddamned asses of the lobbyists. The excuse is generally that campaign finance reform isn't a sexy medium for the cool medium of television, but, IMHO part of the reason also is that lobbyists are a part of the general social fabric of Wasington so negative stories by, say, a Cokie Roberts -- who's brother Tommy Boggs is the king bitch of K-Street -- is unheard of. There is miniscule wiggle room between the corporate interests and those of the press that covers them; their children attend the same schools, they are each others' godparents, they attend the same embassy parties, they all live in the Watergate. As a result, with press fanfare only ex post facto:
"No fewer than seven lawmakers, including a Democrat, have been indicted, have pleaded guilty or are under investigation for improper conduct such as conspiracy, securities fraud and improper campaign donations. Congress's approval ratings have fallen off the table, in some measure because of headlines about these scandals.
"'The indictments and the investigations have strengthened the feeling that people have that in fact there's too much money in Washington and that the money is being used to influence official decisions,' said William McInturff, a Republican pollster with Public Opinion Strategies. 'Polls show that neither party is held in high regard.'"
Washington is becoming a cozy little tea party to which the resident journos have all become the invited guests (For further reference see: Bob Woodward, Judy Miller). It is up to bloggers -- dispassionate outsiders, unlike to Cokie Roberts crowd -- to keep the city on the up-and-up.
More Jeff Birnbaum here.
Greed. (image via bryan-talbott)
It is almost impossible to name a recent fundraiser for either party that doesn't carry about them the stink of corruption. Remember former Senator Torricelli, moist eyed, shamelessly running for reelection (!) with a tristate area ad blitz of the campign commercial entitled, unironically, "I'm Sorry"?
Aggressive fundraising and the whiff of sleaze go together, forever, like peanut butter and jelly. One doesn't get to Congress without a certain amount of boldness, and boldness, above all other virtues, is rewarded in DC. Too much so, perhaps; the accumulation of power leads to a feeling of invulnerability which leads to ... corruption. The catastrophic fall of Congressman Duke Cunningham only refocused our attention on the ball that the DC media types have clearly dropped: the influence of money in DC is far, far too great.
In Washington, eager, ambitious Congressmen and Senators rise quickly in their party ranks by shilling to the corporations and the lobbyists of K-Street, shucking and jiving with stale jokes and robust backslapping at rubber chicken and wine dinners as massive checks in exchange for a "seat at the table" and "favorable legislation" are passed, like the Dutchie, to the left hand side.
Everyone knows this; nobody does anything. Such is the state of American politics in the hour of the wolf.
Senator John McCain tried, for years, to curb this extravagant display of magnificent horseshit. Undeterred, the influence of money in politics staggers forward with hideous strength. Today Jeff Birnbaum of the Washington Post writes:
"For several years now, corporations and other wealthy interests have made ever-larger campaign contributions, gifts and sponsored trips part of the culture of Capitol Hill. But now, with fresh guilty pleas by a lawmaker and a public relations executive, federal prosecutors -- and perhaps average voters -- may be concluding that the commingling of money and politics has gone too far.
"After years in which big-dollar dealings have come to dominate the interaction between lobbyists and lawmakers, both sides are now facing what could be a wave of prosecutions in the courts and an uprising at the ballot box. Extreme examples of the new business-as-usual are no longer tolerated."
One of the reasons that these stories weren't really pursued in the press is that the Washington press corps -- unlike bloggers -- are so stuck up the goddamned asses of the lobbyists. The excuse is generally that campaign finance reform isn't a sexy medium for the cool medium of television, but, IMHO part of the reason also is that lobbyists are a part of the general social fabric of Wasington so negative stories by, say, a Cokie Roberts -- who's brother Tommy Boggs is the king bitch of K-Street -- is unheard of. There is miniscule wiggle room between the corporate interests and those of the press that covers them; their children attend the same schools, they are each others' godparents, they attend the same embassy parties, they all live in the Watergate. As a result, with press fanfare only ex post facto:
"No fewer than seven lawmakers, including a Democrat, have been indicted, have pleaded guilty or are under investigation for improper conduct such as conspiracy, securities fraud and improper campaign donations. Congress's approval ratings have fallen off the table, in some measure because of headlines about these scandals.
"'The indictments and the investigations have strengthened the feeling that people have that in fact there's too much money in Washington and that the money is being used to influence official decisions,' said William McInturff, a Republican pollster with Public Opinion Strategies. 'Polls show that neither party is held in high regard.'"
Washington is becoming a cozy little tea party to which the resident journos have all become the invited guests (For further reference see: Bob Woodward, Judy Miller). It is up to bloggers -- dispassionate outsiders, unlike to Cokie Roberts crowd -- to keep the city on the up-and-up.
More Jeff Birnbaum here.
A Little of the Old In and Out
(image via jsonline)
In: Morgan Freeman. The idea of short DVD windows is hott. The archaic 45-day DVD window is simply absurd in this age of rampant piracy and dwindling Hollywood profits. According to PaidContent:
"Disney CEO Bob Iger says he's even suggested that exhibitors sell the DVD at the theaters for moviegoers to pick up on the way out while the interest is still fresh. In exchange, the owners would get a cut of the sale. 'They think we are out of our minds,' Iger said during a Monday q-and-a at the Wall Street Journal. But he thinks the roughly four-month theatrical exclusive when most of the screen money is made in the first few weeks may be costing everyone: 'We are spending too much time chasing box office (dollars) and we are waiting too long to enter the next window.'"
That's why Morgan Freeman's new venture ClickStar is so particularly intiguing and ahead of the curve. With Freeman's star power behind the company, it can't go wrong. According to the Business2business blog:
"Intel and actor Morgan Freeman's Revelation Studios announced a new venture called ClickStar to distribute movies online as soon as they hit theaters. The rest of Hollywood might resist, but this is inevitable. The days of Hollywood's staggered movie release schedule (first theaters, then Pay-Per-View, then DVDs, then cable) are numbered. If Hollywood bothered to listen to its customers, it would hear that they want their movies delivered to them in a manner and medium of their choosing. At least Morgan Freeman is listening."
And: watch film piracy become more manageable; see: "Easy Reader" just made an easy billion.
Alba displays her considerable assets. (image via cfox.com)
Out: Jessica Alba. Easy on the eyes, to be sure, but essentially lame and, worse, greedy to boot. No one would mistake Jessica Alba's career with that of Cate Blanchett or, for that matter, John Malkovich. There is, of course, quite a difference -- a yeawning chasm, really -- between being a movie star and being an "actor." Alba has forsaken the latter altogether and embarced wholeheartedly the former, unfortunately. (Averted Gaze)
Indiewire's Reeler blog duly skewers Jessica Alba, who has released more bombs this year than Hamas, and feels no intrinsic need -- how ghetto -- to even cover up her shameful deeds. According to Indiewire:
"I used to think the only thing separating siren Jessica Alba from B-movie oblivion was her films' budgets. Sure, she is hot enough to buckle pavement, but if Into the Blue and Fantastic Four are not this year's Camp Tandem From Hell, then I am Armond White:
"However, this week's "Stupid Questions" feature in Entertainment Weekly exposes even more of Alba's appeal--to wit, an unmistakeable whiff of ambivalence about her own sultry canon:
"EW:What about Dark Angel did you find more implausible � the fact that you played Max, a hot chick with genetically engineered superpowers, or the fact that you played Max, a hot chick who shared the same name as an old Jewish man?
"JA: A genetically engineered superhero is a little far-fetched. An old Jewish man is a bit more relatable. Long walks to school and the whole nine...
"EW: I never got around to seeing your 1998 kiddie comedy P.U.N.K.S. � which featured both a suit with supernatural powers and Randy Quaid � but can I assume that it kinda S.U.C.K.S.?
"JA: It was a job. You do what you gotta do."
Yes, well (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment), thanks for the warning: Just don't expect us to plunk down $10 to see you "do what you gotta do" next time around, 'kay honey? (Averted Gaze) How ... meaningful do you think it is, my keemo sabe's, that her fiance's name is "Cash"?
(image via newmediamusings)
In: Craig Newmark. The Newmark-Jarvis venture is drawing major buzz. According to EditorandPublisher:
"Details are slowly starting to crystallize around the online news venture Craigslist founder Craig Newmark mentioned last week at an Oxford University symposium.
"Blogger Jeff Jarvis explained that the project Newmark is involved in as an angel investor is actually the one he signed on with some months ago. At his Buzzmachine blog today, Jarvis pointed readers to a post he made back in May when he announced his departure from Advance.net: 'I will act as editor in chief of a new news start-up founded by Upendra Shardanand (ex Firefly, Microsoft Passport, AOL, and Time Warner) and a sterling team.'
"Jarvis' latest post says the project is still in development and those involved are not ready to talk about it in any detail. But he reveals: 'Our goal is to create a platform to organize the world's news using the best of technology, community, and editors. We see an explosion of interest in and coverage of news from incredibly varied sources around the world and see a need around that.
"'We plan to have a beta in the spring. And as I've blogged before, we will be looking for talent in various areas; we're not ready to take on more folks yet but I'll let you know when we are. And of course, we'll post the jobs on Craigslist!'"
More here.
(image via lisarein)
Out: Al Sharpton. Even a 'ho's gotta eat! Damn; this -- to paraphrase Ford Maddox Ford -- is the saddest link ever(link via Wonkette), in the Washington Post under the dubious title "loan ranger":
"Al Sharpton, 2004: candidate for president of the United States. Al Sharpton, 2005: pitchman for car title loans.
"Car title lenders give cash to those who own their cars free and clear, with interest rates that can approach 300 percent annually. The lender can repossess and sell the car if the short-term loan is not repaid on time. The controversial practice is permitted in about half the states, and consumer groups are pushing hard for more regulation. 'These are predatory small loans,' said Jean Ann Fox of the Consumer Federation of America.
"'If I felt this is in any way abusive, I would stop doing the ads,' Sharpton said yesterday."
Therin lies the problem with Al: His connoiseur meter is stuck on the Ghetto setting.
Nina Garcia and Vanessa Neumann. (image via nysocialdiary)
In: Nina Garcia. According to Fashionweekdaily, "Nina Garcia receives her U.S. citizenship this Friday." The Corsair wishes the Elle Fashion Director a hearty congratulations.
(image via jsonline)
In: Morgan Freeman. The idea of short DVD windows is hott. The archaic 45-day DVD window is simply absurd in this age of rampant piracy and dwindling Hollywood profits. According to PaidContent:
"Disney CEO Bob Iger says he's even suggested that exhibitors sell the DVD at the theaters for moviegoers to pick up on the way out while the interest is still fresh. In exchange, the owners would get a cut of the sale. 'They think we are out of our minds,' Iger said during a Monday q-and-a at the Wall Street Journal. But he thinks the roughly four-month theatrical exclusive when most of the screen money is made in the first few weeks may be costing everyone: 'We are spending too much time chasing box office (dollars) and we are waiting too long to enter the next window.'"
That's why Morgan Freeman's new venture ClickStar is so particularly intiguing and ahead of the curve. With Freeman's star power behind the company, it can't go wrong. According to the Business2business blog:
"Intel and actor Morgan Freeman's Revelation Studios announced a new venture called ClickStar to distribute movies online as soon as they hit theaters. The rest of Hollywood might resist, but this is inevitable. The days of Hollywood's staggered movie release schedule (first theaters, then Pay-Per-View, then DVDs, then cable) are numbered. If Hollywood bothered to listen to its customers, it would hear that they want their movies delivered to them in a manner and medium of their choosing. At least Morgan Freeman is listening."
And: watch film piracy become more manageable; see: "Easy Reader" just made an easy billion.
Alba displays her considerable assets. (image via cfox.com)
Out: Jessica Alba. Easy on the eyes, to be sure, but essentially lame and, worse, greedy to boot. No one would mistake Jessica Alba's career with that of Cate Blanchett or, for that matter, John Malkovich. There is, of course, quite a difference -- a yeawning chasm, really -- between being a movie star and being an "actor." Alba has forsaken the latter altogether and embarced wholeheartedly the former, unfortunately. (Averted Gaze)
Indiewire's Reeler blog duly skewers Jessica Alba, who has released more bombs this year than Hamas, and feels no intrinsic need -- how ghetto -- to even cover up her shameful deeds. According to Indiewire:
"I used to think the only thing separating siren Jessica Alba from B-movie oblivion was her films' budgets. Sure, she is hot enough to buckle pavement, but if Into the Blue and Fantastic Four are not this year's Camp Tandem From Hell, then I am Armond White:
"However, this week's "Stupid Questions" feature in Entertainment Weekly exposes even more of Alba's appeal--to wit, an unmistakeable whiff of ambivalence about her own sultry canon:
"EW:What about Dark Angel did you find more implausible � the fact that you played Max, a hot chick with genetically engineered superpowers, or the fact that you played Max, a hot chick who shared the same name as an old Jewish man?
"JA: A genetically engineered superhero is a little far-fetched. An old Jewish man is a bit more relatable. Long walks to school and the whole nine...
"EW: I never got around to seeing your 1998 kiddie comedy P.U.N.K.S. � which featured both a suit with supernatural powers and Randy Quaid � but can I assume that it kinda S.U.C.K.S.?
"JA: It was a job. You do what you gotta do."
Yes, well (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment), thanks for the warning: Just don't expect us to plunk down $10 to see you "do what you gotta do" next time around, 'kay honey? (Averted Gaze) How ... meaningful do you think it is, my keemo sabe's, that her fiance's name is "Cash"?
(image via newmediamusings)
In: Craig Newmark. The Newmark-Jarvis venture is drawing major buzz. According to EditorandPublisher:
"Details are slowly starting to crystallize around the online news venture Craigslist founder Craig Newmark mentioned last week at an Oxford University symposium.
"Blogger Jeff Jarvis explained that the project Newmark is involved in as an angel investor is actually the one he signed on with some months ago. At his Buzzmachine blog today, Jarvis pointed readers to a post he made back in May when he announced his departure from Advance.net: 'I will act as editor in chief of a new news start-up founded by Upendra Shardanand (ex Firefly, Microsoft Passport, AOL, and Time Warner) and a sterling team.'
"Jarvis' latest post says the project is still in development and those involved are not ready to talk about it in any detail. But he reveals: 'Our goal is to create a platform to organize the world's news using the best of technology, community, and editors. We see an explosion of interest in and coverage of news from incredibly varied sources around the world and see a need around that.
"'We plan to have a beta in the spring. And as I've blogged before, we will be looking for talent in various areas; we're not ready to take on more folks yet but I'll let you know when we are. And of course, we'll post the jobs on Craigslist!'"
More here.
(image via lisarein)
Out: Al Sharpton. Even a 'ho's gotta eat! Damn; this -- to paraphrase Ford Maddox Ford -- is the saddest link ever(link via Wonkette), in the Washington Post under the dubious title "loan ranger":
"Al Sharpton, 2004: candidate for president of the United States. Al Sharpton, 2005: pitchman for car title loans.
"Car title lenders give cash to those who own their cars free and clear, with interest rates that can approach 300 percent annually. The lender can repossess and sell the car if the short-term loan is not repaid on time. The controversial practice is permitted in about half the states, and consumer groups are pushing hard for more regulation. 'These are predatory small loans,' said Jean Ann Fox of the Consumer Federation of America.
"'If I felt this is in any way abusive, I would stop doing the ads,' Sharpton said yesterday."
Therin lies the problem with Al: His connoiseur meter is stuck on the Ghetto setting.
Nina Garcia and Vanessa Neumann. (image via nysocialdiary)
In: Nina Garcia. According to Fashionweekdaily, "Nina Garcia receives her U.S. citizenship this Friday." The Corsair wishes the Elle Fashion Director a hearty congratulations.
The Queen Sofia Gold Medal Gala
Abe Rosenthal dramatically reenacting a "woozy" scene from his infamous "crazy period." (image via nysocialdiary)
Neither did we know that yesterday, after having our monthly lunch ast Michael's with David Patrick Columbia, our favorite social chronicler, he was off to spend time in the society of personnages almost -- but not quite -- as fabulous as The Corsair. From NYSocialDiary:
"Last night at the Pierre. The Queen Sofia Spanish Institute of New York held The Gold Medal Gala, a reception and dinner in the presence of Her Majesty Queen Sofia of Spain, chaired by Oscar de la Renta, Chairman of the Queen Sofia Spanish Institute; and honoring Julio Iglesias, Dr. Henry Kissinger, and Mrs. Beatrice Santo Domingo. The evening was under the honorary patronage of President and Mrs. George W. Bush and Their Majesties King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofia of Spain. Senator Hillary Clinton also attended the dinner and was seated on the right of Mr. de la Renta, with Queen Sofia to his left (and he, to her right of course).
"... There were several long dresses with trains last night. And lots of jewels � more than one usually sees as these occasions. Mrs. Jayne Wrightsman was in the crowd � an unusual occasion for the now dowager of what makes up the top tier of what is now described as New York society. Also in the crowd I saw Mr. and Mrs. Sid Bass, the very regal looking Nancy (Mrs. Henry) Kissinger, Carroll Petrie who was with John Christensen and her daughter Andrea, the Marquessa de Portago who has just finished a book of photography on Native American culture; Rafael the duc de Feria, Prince Dimitri of Yugoslavia. The prince and the duke soon learned on meeting that they were wearing the same Royal Oak watch by Audemars Piguet, except Prince Dimitri�s was accompanied by a wristlet with one large black pearl ..."
Prince Dimitri to Rafael the duc de Feria, "Dukey: check out this here pimped out bling." (image via nysocialdiary)
The Black Pearl. (image via nysocialdiary)
Abe Rosenthal dramatically reenacting a "woozy" scene from his infamous "crazy period." (image via nysocialdiary)
Neither did we know that yesterday, after having our monthly lunch ast Michael's with David Patrick Columbia, our favorite social chronicler, he was off to spend time in the society of personnages almost -- but not quite -- as fabulous as The Corsair. From NYSocialDiary:
"Last night at the Pierre. The Queen Sofia Spanish Institute of New York held The Gold Medal Gala, a reception and dinner in the presence of Her Majesty Queen Sofia of Spain, chaired by Oscar de la Renta, Chairman of the Queen Sofia Spanish Institute; and honoring Julio Iglesias, Dr. Henry Kissinger, and Mrs. Beatrice Santo Domingo. The evening was under the honorary patronage of President and Mrs. George W. Bush and Their Majesties King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofia of Spain. Senator Hillary Clinton also attended the dinner and was seated on the right of Mr. de la Renta, with Queen Sofia to his left (and he, to her right of course).
"... There were several long dresses with trains last night. And lots of jewels � more than one usually sees as these occasions. Mrs. Jayne Wrightsman was in the crowd � an unusual occasion for the now dowager of what makes up the top tier of what is now described as New York society. Also in the crowd I saw Mr. and Mrs. Sid Bass, the very regal looking Nancy (Mrs. Henry) Kissinger, Carroll Petrie who was with John Christensen and her daughter Andrea, the Marquessa de Portago who has just finished a book of photography on Native American culture; Rafael the duc de Feria, Prince Dimitri of Yugoslavia. The prince and the duke soon learned on meeting that they were wearing the same Royal Oak watch by Audemars Piguet, except Prince Dimitri�s was accompanied by a wristlet with one large black pearl ..."
Prince Dimitri to Rafael the duc de Feria, "Dukey: check out this here pimped out bling." (image via nysocialdiary)
The Black Pearl. (image via nysocialdiary)
Will Kate Moss Star In Stella McCartney's Forthcoming Ads?
Kate posing for Stella this week in St. Barts. (image via vogue.co.uk)
Stella McCartney is red hott right now. So is Kate Moss. So, of course, media speculation that these two will sign on the dotted line and collabo together is entirely justified. According to British Vogue:
"KATE MOSS may not have starred in the ad campaign for Stella McCartney's H&M line, but the two are clearly still in business together. Kate, who has posed for Virgin Mobile, Longchamp and Roberto Cavalli in recent weeks, looked more gorgeous than ever as she posed for Stella on a beach in St Barts just days ago. While it remains unconfirmed that she will be the star of McCartney's own forthcoming ads, the pair are clearly enjoying working together � whatever they're planning."
Kate posing for Stella this week in St. Barts. (image via vogue.co.uk)
Stella McCartney is red hott right now. So is Kate Moss. So, of course, media speculation that these two will sign on the dotted line and collabo together is entirely justified. According to British Vogue:
"KATE MOSS may not have starred in the ad campaign for Stella McCartney's H&M line, but the two are clearly still in business together. Kate, who has posed for Virgin Mobile, Longchamp and Roberto Cavalli in recent weeks, looked more gorgeous than ever as she posed for Stella on a beach in St Barts just days ago. While it remains unconfirmed that she will be the star of McCartney's own forthcoming ads, the pair are clearly enjoying working together � whatever they're planning."
Monday, November 28, 2005
Robert Novak: "The Senate Has Hardened..."
(image via cnn)
Our favorite punchy, three-piece suit wearing Dickensian villain, Robert Novak, waxes philosophical this time around:
"On Nov. 16, as Congress raced to adjourn for Thanksgiving, Senate Democratic Whip Richard J. Durbin found time to sit down with Republican political activist C. Boyden Gray. It was unpleasant for Gray, who followed with what looked like a prearranged letter of apology to the senator. After that, Durbin was reported to have lifted the 'hold' blocking Gray's confirmation as U.S. ambassador to the European Union.
"That very day, Durbin engaged in public confrontation with Republican Sen. Ted Stevens, the Senate's president pro-tem. Durbin took the Senate floor to accuse Stevens of making it easier for oil executives to lie to Congress. When Stevens demanded an apology under the rules, Durbin refused on grounds the rules did not apply.
"I have been watching the Senate for nearly 49 years, and there once was a time when Durbin's busy Nov. 16 would have attracted attention. But it went virtually unnoticed. The Senate has hardened, and so has Dick Durbin."
Ka-Pow! A cautionary tale from the DC journo with the stiffest right cross in the city ...
(image via cnn)
Our favorite punchy, three-piece suit wearing Dickensian villain, Robert Novak, waxes philosophical this time around:
"On Nov. 16, as Congress raced to adjourn for Thanksgiving, Senate Democratic Whip Richard J. Durbin found time to sit down with Republican political activist C. Boyden Gray. It was unpleasant for Gray, who followed with what looked like a prearranged letter of apology to the senator. After that, Durbin was reported to have lifted the 'hold' blocking Gray's confirmation as U.S. ambassador to the European Union.
"That very day, Durbin engaged in public confrontation with Republican Sen. Ted Stevens, the Senate's president pro-tem. Durbin took the Senate floor to accuse Stevens of making it easier for oil executives to lie to Congress. When Stevens demanded an apology under the rules, Durbin refused on grounds the rules did not apply.
"I have been watching the Senate for nearly 49 years, and there once was a time when Durbin's busy Nov. 16 would have attracted attention. But it went virtually unnoticed. The Senate has hardened, and so has Dick Durbin."
Ka-Pow! A cautionary tale from the DC journo with the stiffest right cross in the city ...
Liz Hurley and Arun Nayar vs. Athina and Dodi
(image via terra.com.br)
Duelling weddings! In the corner to our right, we have the Wedding of the Year, the Athina Roussel-Doda nups. According to Ekathimerini.com:
"Onassis heiress Athena Roussel�s wedding on December 3 in Sao Paolo to Brazilian equestrian Alvaro Alonso de Miranda Neto � otherwise known as Doda � marks her victory in the love stakes. Possessor of a huge fortune � albeit administered by Swiss trustees, inherited from her mother Christina and her grandmother Tina � Athena is preparing for her big day despite the reservations of her father Thierry, who has made known his view that the marriage is premature. The paparazzi are already packing their bags, as the wedding is expected to be a magnificent affair, with both Catholic and Greek Orthodox ceremonies. When Athena reaches the age of 21 on January 29 next year, she will have a husband by her side in her new homeland of Brazil, where she has bought two floors in an apartment building in a Sao Paolo suburb � a home furnished by a German decorator. Jennifer Lopez will sing at the wedding at the 'Oscar and Louisa' reception center for guests from around the world, although the guest list is still a secret.
We give the grade of A, mostly because of JLo singing in Sao Paolo (originally reported, we cannot fail to note, by NYSocialDiary), but also the inspired East-West blending of Christianity with its Orthodox cousin and, no doubt, exquisite, glottal Byzantine chants. The Swiss trustees are just gravy at this point. The maintaining of a double secret guest list one week before the actual wedding is also quite swellegant.
(image via mundodelocio)
And, in the corner to our left, according to the extremely downmarket Newsoftheworld:
"LIZ HURLEY will marry her millionaire boyfriend ARUN NAYAR in India next year, I am delighted to reveal.
"The pair are planning to tie the knot in a lavish three-day ceremony�with Arun making an eye-popping entrance on an elephant.
"The star-studded bash will take place in the grounds of the 16th century Devigarh Fort in Rajasthan, India�now a swanky five-star hotel.
"Guests will include DAVID and VICTORIA BECKHAM, PATSY KENSIT and PAMELA ANDERSON.
"Actress Liz's close friends ELTON JOHN and DAVID FURNISH will also be there, with David taking the unusual role of �maid of honour'."
A grade of C-plus, needs remedial work, see me. And: Patsy Kensit? (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
The 16th Century Indian wedding is a definite exotic plus, but the lamentable inclusion of Pamela Anderson, most recently of the even more lamentable "Stacked," on the guest list sounds vaguely ... jinxy. (Averted Gaze) Plus, 3 days of partying? We won't even entertain a snarky commentary on the elephant.
And, let's be honest, 21st Century Elton isn't the same as the existential 1970s Elton; nowadays he'd attend the opeining of an envelope.
A gilded envelope, to be sure, but still -- sniff, sniff -- 2nd class postage all the same. (Newsoftheworld)
(image via terra.com.br)
Duelling weddings! In the corner to our right, we have the Wedding of the Year, the Athina Roussel-Doda nups. According to Ekathimerini.com:
"Onassis heiress Athena Roussel�s wedding on December 3 in Sao Paolo to Brazilian equestrian Alvaro Alonso de Miranda Neto � otherwise known as Doda � marks her victory in the love stakes. Possessor of a huge fortune � albeit administered by Swiss trustees, inherited from her mother Christina and her grandmother Tina � Athena is preparing for her big day despite the reservations of her father Thierry, who has made known his view that the marriage is premature. The paparazzi are already packing their bags, as the wedding is expected to be a magnificent affair, with both Catholic and Greek Orthodox ceremonies. When Athena reaches the age of 21 on January 29 next year, she will have a husband by her side in her new homeland of Brazil, where she has bought two floors in an apartment building in a Sao Paolo suburb � a home furnished by a German decorator. Jennifer Lopez will sing at the wedding at the 'Oscar and Louisa' reception center for guests from around the world, although the guest list is still a secret.
We give the grade of A, mostly because of JLo singing in Sao Paolo (originally reported, we cannot fail to note, by NYSocialDiary), but also the inspired East-West blending of Christianity with its Orthodox cousin and, no doubt, exquisite, glottal Byzantine chants. The Swiss trustees are just gravy at this point. The maintaining of a double secret guest list one week before the actual wedding is also quite swellegant.
(image via mundodelocio)
And, in the corner to our left, according to the extremely downmarket Newsoftheworld:
"LIZ HURLEY will marry her millionaire boyfriend ARUN NAYAR in India next year, I am delighted to reveal.
"The pair are planning to tie the knot in a lavish three-day ceremony�with Arun making an eye-popping entrance on an elephant.
"The star-studded bash will take place in the grounds of the 16th century Devigarh Fort in Rajasthan, India�now a swanky five-star hotel.
"Guests will include DAVID and VICTORIA BECKHAM, PATSY KENSIT and PAMELA ANDERSON.
"Actress Liz's close friends ELTON JOHN and DAVID FURNISH will also be there, with David taking the unusual role of �maid of honour'."
A grade of C-plus, needs remedial work, see me. And: Patsy Kensit? (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment)
The 16th Century Indian wedding is a definite exotic plus, but the lamentable inclusion of Pamela Anderson, most recently of the even more lamentable "Stacked," on the guest list sounds vaguely ... jinxy. (Averted Gaze) Plus, 3 days of partying? We won't even entertain a snarky commentary on the elephant.
And, let's be honest, 21st Century Elton isn't the same as the existential 1970s Elton; nowadays he'd attend the opeining of an envelope.
A gilded envelope, to be sure, but still -- sniff, sniff -- 2nd class postage all the same. (Newsoftheworld)
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