Paris Cheats on Paris in London



Above: Whoopsie! (image via chadmuska.org)

The Mirror's 3AM Girls have been hunting Paris Hilton as she moves through the continent of Europe as if she were big game. From Cannes to London, they've stalked the increasingly "boozy" socialite-porn star-cryptoracist skank. And they've saved us some gibblets:

"This time, Paris didn't turn up at the launch for her self-titled scent at Il Bottaccio restaurant in the West End until 11pm.

"Her behaviour became increasingly bizarre until she left at midnight to go clubbing, and ended up dirty-dancing with model Sam Branson, son of Sir Richard.

"Yet earlier she was gushing to 3am about her love for latest boyfriend, Greek billionaire Paris Latsis."

See, and we thought Greek shipping heirs always trumped the children music entrepreneurs, no matter what title is involved. You learn something new every day.

"'I'm very loyal to my man,' Paris told us. 'I really missed Paris when I was in Cannes. I never even looked at any other men. We're not in any rush but we hope to start a family in two years.'"

Simultaneous Paris Hilton Translator (TM): After a fashion, Paris really is loyal to her man. The report stopped short of actual sex. She only cheats when he's not there. The loins want what the loins want.

"'I wanted to bring my chihuahua Tinkerbell with me, but we're not allowed to bring dogs to London.'"

Simultaneous Paris Hilton Translator: That was the reason Paris Latsis couldn't come. Haha. The dog's part rat. He'd fink me out to The Other Paris for a doggy treat and a bowl of Evian. I couldn't risk it.

"Straight after that odd comment, she did an impromptu dance on the stage to a Michael Jackson number, which involved flinging her arms around and rubbing her back against the wall."

Simultaneous Paris Hilton Translator (TM): ??? We give. Postmodern interpretive dance?

"Next, she mimed to her own unreleased song called Screwed, but couldn't remember the words.'"

"Paris then headed straight to the bar and ordered a Pink Paris cocktail - a tipple named in her honour made with vodka, grenadine, lime and lemonade.

"Our spy reveals, 'She took one sip and spat it out in the barman's face. She said it was horrible and asked for vodka and Red Bull instead, leaving the poor guy dejected.'"

Simultaneous Paris Hilton Translator (TM): The barman will dine out on the tale of the night he "made Paris spit up" for years to come.

"After an hour, and tired of being pestered for autographs, Paris left for Kabaret's Prophecy club.

"There she sat in a booth with 18-year-old Sam - who is set to inherit �1billion from his dad's Virgin empire - and it wasn't long before the pair were doing a raunchy dance routine."

Simultaneous Paris Hilton Translator (TM): The "raunchy dance" is Paris Hilton's naive but well-intentioned way of saying, "Isn't this club neat"? Flavio Briatore means the same when he sires out-of-wedlock babies.

"We hear: 'They were inseparable all night. Paris spent the evening grinding with Sam. They looked like they were really enjoying themselves.

"She knocked back Cristal champagne, tequila shots and more vodka. They were very touchy-feely with one another. Paris was dancing on her chair with him at one point. But she left the club at 4am with her pals."

Paris is really getting into "the happy juice" this European tour. Big time. We'll be chronicling the upcoming "Paris Hilton's Road to Betty Ford (TM)" special with rapt attention. The full story here.

For fresh, new posts with a bold splash of wit -- September 2010 -- check out The Corsair.

A Little of the Old In and Out


In: Mickey Rourke's Distraught Bitchface. The Corsair is not going to say at the outset and out loud that Mickey Rourke's botched plastic surgery on display at Cannes this week made him look like a "distraught bitch" ... we'll just splash the bewildering photo up above and let the reader draw his or her own inference.



Above: With considerable effort, several uncomfortable minutes, loud groaning and, ultimately digital aid, Oz correctly answers the riddle, "What's 3 minus 2?"(image via cmi.ac)

Out: Midget Slavery. Jaded snarky blog readers who thought they have heard it all will be pleased at the discovery that there are still human vices left to sample. And, of course, Ozzy Osbourne has already beat us to the finish line. In an "ownership society," midget slavery shouldn't surprise. According to our favorite crimefighting-gossip duo, Rush and Molloy:

"Ozzy Osbourne remembers when he lost his patience with the midget Black Sabbath hired for a tour. 'He showed up late, he drank ... It got to me after awhile. So, one night, when he wanted to get on the tour bus, I threw him in the luggage compartment.

"Somebody grabbed me and said: 'What you're doing is not only illegal but it's inhumane.'"

A lone roadie voice of moderation and restraint among the Satanic prole horde. Afterwards, of course, they probably killed and smoked this man's remains in a giant antique hookah.

"(Ozzy) lost it. I yelled: 'He's my [bleeping] midget and I'll [bleeping] do what I want with him.' There was a silence and then a small voice emerged from the luggage compartment: 'He's right: I'm his midget and he can do what he wants with me.'"



Above: Charlie Rose ... the man, the myth, the drinking game. (image via smu)

In: The Upfronts. What are the upfronts? James Poniewozik of Time describes it thusly, "... The annual New York City ritual in which the major broadcast networks announce their schedules for next fall. Like all things televisual, the upfronts are a little bit about art and a lot about money."

Actually, they are almost completely about money (i.e. Impressing advertisers, creating ad buying buzz). Rounding out the upfront news in the blogosphere, we begin with the TVSquad, who are all up in this bitch. The big news, reported by Drudgie Poo, is that 60 Minutes 2 was cancelled (Man, this really isn't Dan Rather's millennium), allowing the always tired-looking Charlie Rose a chance get some slumber. We, ironically enough, achieve a consistent and most perfect watching Charlie Rose. (And dreaming of destroying Ann Coulter's ass)

On ABC this Fall, Geena Davis, that quixotic perennial longshot for Olympic archery gold, will be President. We ask because you won't: Is America truly ready for a President with pouty blowjob lips?

Defamer detects the cloven-hooved evil of CBS overlord Les Moonves' and his unholy love of the "18-49 demographic." Do you remember when CBS was the old folks' network, with such televised chloroform (Zzzz) as Murder: She Wrote and Trapper John, MD? The broken hip is all healed up nicely, and CBS now sports a slow, "pimp stroll." The only question we have is: How will NBC News steal Kelly Ripa is Hope and Faith is being re-upped by ABC for another season?



Above: Ms. Couric expresses her thoughts regarding all the Kelly Ripa as replacement chatter. (image via strangepolitics)

Out: The Today Show. Do viewers really prefer the "poised, creamy insincerity" of Diane Sawyer over Katie Couric's juicy, unblemished "gams"? Is this the beginning of the end of the present configuration at NBC's Today Show? Will hottie Kelly Ripa -- she of the shapely camel toe -- replace Katie? According to Drudgie poo:

"FLASH: CEREAL WAR: ABC 'GOOD MORNING AMERICA' WINS ALL MAJOR CITIES TUESDAY MORNING; NBC 'TODAY' SHOW ONLY TAKES SAN FRAN... 'GMA' MOST-WATCHED IN NYC, L.A., CHICAGO, PHILLY, DALLAS, BOSTON, DETROIT.... "

And, in further Katie-Today Show friction, Page Six reports:

"FORMER 'Today' executive producer Tom Touchet wasn't disliked by all at the NBC show ? just Katie Couric. To show his love and appreciation, 'Today' co-anchor Matt Lauer held a private dinner for Touchet last week at Primavera on First Avenue. 'It was held in a private room,' said our spy. 'Al [Roker] and Ann [Curry] were invited [but could not make it], and all the top brass came. Everyone but Katie, who was not invited.' A rep for 'Today' said: 'This dinner was a casual and informal dinner with Matt, Tom and a few 'Today' staffers. Al, Ann and Katie had nothing to do with it and all wish Tom well.'"

Richard Gere: Roving Ambassador



Above: Richard Gere, Diplomatic Man-whore at large.

According to Hello!Magazine:

"Richard Gere has met up with Jordan's King Abdullah and former US President Bill Clinton in an effort to solve humanity's most pressing problems."

Because, you know, when The Corsair thinks of geopolitical concerns such as -- Third World Debt relief, rogue nuclear weopons, the trafficking of slavery and, last but not least the international gangsterism of the Yakuza and the Russian mafia -- Richard Gere, diplomatic problem solver, he of the immaculate silver coif, that chic Buddhist, immediately comes to mind.

"The three men are among 25 Nobel Prize winners and 19 international figures taking part in a pioneering summit of the world's greatest minds."

Yes, Richard Gere, Koizumi's "private dancer," a dancer for money (Averted Gaze), he'll do what you want him to do ...

"The conference, which is taking place in the Jordanian city of Petra, is hoping to find consensus on how to tackle international issues like poverty, disease and violence. Among the other VIPs jetting into the ancient location were the Dalai Lama and Trinidad-born British author VS Naipaul, along with top physicists, economists and humanitarians. King Abdullah, who is co-hosting the 'World In Danger' summit with Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel, is hoping it will give a much-needed boost to efforts at building a more just world."



(link via Joebobbriggs.com)

They seek to build on a world in which Richard Gere, who played quite the complex "man-whore" in "Breathless," was paid millions, while unchampioned "man-whore's" throughout Southeast Asia are being paid significantly less, and, comparatively speaking (Averted Gaze), the genre of clientelle are (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) altogether dissimilar.

"In a rousing speech to the assembled delegates, the Jordanian monarch said that many young people in the Middle East 'have no memory of a time without conflict,' before warning that globalisation is failing to deliver on its promises. 'People see a huge gap between rich and poor.' "

Would that "gap" be Paris Hilton?

"... They see diseases that wealthy nations have wiped out, that are still crippling people in the developing world. They see gender inequality holding back talents of half the world. They see the harm as well as the hope brought by globalisation.'"

Bleh, bleh, blah blah blah ... and the other thing. So, in other words, another international confluence of hot wind and gassy rhetoric thus hath comes to pass. Absolutely nothing is accomplished, no solid policy proposals are made, but -- and this is the point -- at swishy dinner tables across globe, the swells will have an anecdote-at-the-ready for the next time someone asks, "...But what are you doing about the conflicts in the world?" That, and the after party at the confab had to be smashing.

The Newsweek Periscope Fiasco: Ay Carrumba!



When the State Department is in Defcon mode correcting the mistakes of a single newsweekly upon a war effort and the international reputation of the last standing hyperpower abroad, you know it's a bad week for the media in general. The Corsair feels for Newsweek's editor Mark Whittaker. When this is over, whether or not he still has his job and reputation intact, he will have considerably more gray hairs and a significantly diminished subscriber base.

Newsweek is now guilty of acting in the same manner as The White House did in the run-up to the Iraq War, namely "sexing-up" the facts to partisan advantage. Partisan politics has an aversion to finding "the truth" of any matter (Finding "the advantage" is the ultimate goal in the partisan game); partisan politics hates ideas. If you listen to Limbaugh-Hannity nexus, you'll hear such chestnuts as "pathetic," "libs," and "loser," or "what's why you lost the election," when referring to the opposition, which is always -- this is partisan politics at its idea-averse worst. If you listen to Air America at any time of the day, you will hear a quixotic array of sometimes quite cracked-sounding voices screeching about the disgusting actions at Abu Ghraib, in the telltale "I told you so" tone of voice. This also is partisan politics at its worst.

The Corsair doesn't understand this clinging to the Abu Ghraib tragedy as a political strategy. One, it is ridiculously negative. Two, Ghraib carping offers nothing by way of solution. Three, it only serves to widen the gulf between the Democratic Party and enlisted men and women, which, quite frankly, is naught else but sheer political madness. Four -- as we are now witnessing, tragically -- Ghraib Screaming serves the purposes of the enemy.

Social Scientists have coined the term "The Iron Law of Emulation," which states that organizations in conflict tend to emulate one another, the best example being the KGB and the FBI (Think: Cointelpro and the Civil Rights movement). Perhaps The Iron Law of Emulation explains why presently Newsweek, like the White House during the President's first term especially, have both had the overall effect of damaging America's reputation in the world theater.

No decent fact checker (And The Corsair was one) or editor (Guilty again) at even a fucking consumer magazine would let slip by "Koran being flushed down the toilet" without an eyewitness source's okay via phone or email. What was Newsweek thinking? Common sense also tells us that a book -- and certainly not an especially large book -- cannot be flushed down a prison toilet. This smacks of hysterical rhetoric and ought to have been dismissed as such at the outset, filed under ridiculous. Perhaps -- dare The Corsair say it? -- Newsweek wanted it to be true, so badly, in fact, that they literally assumed the worst, suspended disbelief, and, without checking the facts very carefully, ran the item anyway.

Perish the thought.

There is no way of saying how this nightmare will end. Already American flags are being burned in Pakistan and Afghanistan where they weren't being burned one moth ago. If Musharaaf is toppled by the fundamentalists in the next few months, this story will have been the prime cause. If Egypt falls to the fundamentalists over the torture issue in the near future, you know the proximate cause. Never has a media fuck up been the direct cause of turning the tide in a war situation/front (Afghanistan) already considered somewhat stabilized. More lives, and, quite possibly, more heads, will be lost over Newsweek's faulty report. There is no doubt to me at least that an editor's retraction means absolutely nothing to the ignorant fundamentalists at this point, who presently will use the article as the perfectly pitched propaganda -- the ultimate recruiting tool -- and will regard any such backtracking from up the masthead as pressure coming from the President, the same way Putin -- bizarrely -- thinks that the Administration sacked Dan Rather.

Newsweek's greatest mistake was to issue a tiny apology at the outset of the scandal. Although everyone piled on the Old Gray Lady during the Jayson Blair scandal -- which, The Corsair admits, is comparatively microcosmic -- The Times spent a tortured, monstrously introspective apologia on the paper's culpability. The Times was probably harder on itself, in a sort of Hamlet-like way, than anyone else. Newsweek should have been at least as hard on itself as The Old Gray Lady over the deaths of 16 people and God knows how many more in the future. And for that we will see apologies all week, for the rest of the month, on all the news programs from the masthead of Newsweek.

Then, after the apologies and conservative media rage are exhausted, there will be an outside panel with some respected conservative and moderate Establishment types. Some will lose their jobs, and there will be lots of slumber-inducing discussion on C-Span, heated debate on the press review shows, on panels, and in the blogosphere about "the role of the press." After the war is over, if this war even ever has a definitive end, Newsweek's fumbling will be an mild asterisk -- not scimitar -- in the history books.

Will Newsweek get the Dan Rather treatment, and, if so, who, in particular, gets the hatchet?

Whoever gets sacrificed, the cause of this particular scandal -- partisanship -- will continue to plague us. It began with the divided 2000 election, subsided for a bit after September 11, ebbed again at the Iraq War, rose when Karl Rove strategically pitted the Evangelicals against the sophisticates, and is now at its peak in the Senate -- supposedly the Platonic Eidos of compromise and gentlemanly discussion -- over filibusters. Partisanship is the mind disease of America. We are caught in its fevered grasp. And the filibuster battles beginning tomorrow will give us all a front row center seat at the Circus Maximus of Madness.

A Little of the Old In and Out



In: David Letterman (link via CNN). Mirabile dictu. According to Drudgie Poo, David Letterman beat Jay Leno's synthetic ass, carried aloft by the tidal wave finale of Everyone Loves Raymond (A show, BTW, that Letterman's TV production company made happen) :

"'RAYMOND' BLOWOUT AT CBS: FINALE PULLS 21.3 RATING/29 SHARE... CBS 'CSI: MIAMI' 16.0 RATING/24 SHARE OVER FOX '24' SCORE OF 7.9/11... ABC LIVE 'BACHELOR' 7.2/11... MONDAY NIGHT SWEEP... LETTERMAN TAKES LENO 5.5/13 TO 4.5/11..."

Now all we have to do is get Drudgie poo to stop shouting the info.



Out: Donna Karan. At some point we imagine the highly efficient men with nigh-unbreakable straightjackets are going to one day swoop down and fucking cart ol' crazyface Donna Karan back to whatever stylish institution from which she escaped. This will be done tastefully, though. What the fuck? According to Fashionweekdaily:

"As for Donna, clad in a flowing black dress and hammered gold necklace, she refused to name favorites. 'Yes, I liked the glass bowls a lot but I really like everything. I love the whole exhibition, how it was set up, and I love the energy in the room. Dutch art is really wonderful �and going Dutch on a date is cool, and actually, I�m looking for a Dutch guy!'"

"Then Donna laughed and climbed up the staircase .."

*The Corsair shudders*



Above: Bill Mahar's date for the BET Awards in a tasteful "bottomless" shot (image via eurweb).

In: Bill Maher and Superhead. Our favorite libertarian has a lot of panache. He practically lives at the Playboy mansion. And when he's not there romancing the 'cone, he's hosting Real Time, saying -- on air -- the incendiary things most people are too afraid to say out loud but are probably thinking. Finally, Maher, like Robert Deniro -- how does one put this in a family friendly blog? -- appears to have a taste for "the dark meat." (But, unlike Deniro, Maher prefers his dark meat on the "gamey," side) And sh'e just good old reliable "superhead."

First there was the very busted-looking "Coco," voted by her high school class Most Likely To Go To A Swishy Restaurant And Ask For The "Shrimps" (Averted Gaze; Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment). Maher's taste has evolved, though, we must say, now he's progressed to "Superhead," the skanky seconds of Fred Durst. And they are actually a "couple."

According to Lloyd Grove:

"It looks like hip-hop video vixen Karrine Steffans - who claims in an upcoming book to have gotten up close and personal with everyone from Vin Diesel to Shaquille O'Neal - is spending some real time with Bill Maher.

"'He makes me happy,' the 26-year-old Steffans told Daily News contributor Jawn Murray yesterday about her 49-year-old manfriend, the comic host of HBO's political talk show 'Real Time With Bill Maher.'"

To paraphrase Woody Allen, the loins want what the loins want.



Out: Madonna. We've always stated on this blog that the reason Madonna sucketh so mightily of late is the simple fact that she is too egocentric. If Madonna would do independent, challenging, gritty films where she played against type -- a Midwestern middle aged crystal meth addict, say -- she would win Oscars, critical acclaim and finally attain that elusive movie star status she so craves. Not going to happen, though. Madonna's central psychological characteristic is a near-infinite narcissism. It is an insurmountable wall she appears unable to climb. Madonna's self-love is Schwarzenneggerian in scope.

Madge's latest self important film, Re-Invented Process was essentially deemed just a tad too masturbatory for inclusion at Cannes. So Madonna's taking her show to the Venice Film Festival. And if they don't accept her latest ... we hear Cinemuerte has a horror film festival that might be open to the Ciccone "honey touch." And there's always Dick Tracy 2, and a resuscitation of the "Breathless Mahoney" character. According to the 3AM Girls:

"... We're told that the mum-of-two, 46, will jet in to Cannes later this week for meetings with organisers of the Venice Film Festival, in an attempt to persuade them to include her Jonas Akerlund-directed documentary in their programme.

"'Madonna was very disappointed when Cannes organisers decided against showing the film, 'a festival insider reveals. 'Especially after she hired a top director and then re-edited it especially for the festival.'"

"Now Madge will hold back-to-back meetings in the Hotel Du Cap with Venice organisers.

"'She could have sent a flunkey but she knows that if anyone can twist their arms, it'll be her. She can't trust someone else with something this important.'"

Self-important.

"... Because Mariah Needed Guidance"



Above: Classic Deer-in-the-Headlights Mariah, image via ananova

No truer words have been uttered in the English language than, "... because Mariah needed guidance." (Sotto voce) So true. Even the hoi polloi know it. Those strands of truth come to us from the hale and hearty Page Sixxies, forsooth:

"MARIAH Carey, who is regularly mocked for her got-it-flaunt-it fashion sense, is getting a style makeover from her new best friend � Vogue editor-at-large Andre Leon Talley.

"Talley escorted Carey to Karl Lagerfeld's dinner at Matsuri last week ..."

No doubt, Karl has the sauteed Mare, a --yum, yum -- "Belgian treat," to be sure (Averted Gaze).



Question: Karl, the ponytail, the horse-flesh diet, the coltish manner ... Aren't you going a little too far with the whole cheval motif?
Answer: Neeeyyyyyyy... (image via stern)

"... took her to Oprah Winfrey's celebration of African-American legends over the weekend near Santa Barbara, and hung out with the songbird yesterday in L.A.

"According to Carey's rep and pal Marvet Britto: 'I introduced them two months ago because Mariah needed guidance."

A long considerable pause. Nods head in affirmation.

"'She has an incredible sense of style � but then she went out in outfits like cutoff shorts and tank tops. It was her old team of people telling her to wear that."

So ... no more "poom-poom" shorts?

Dave Chappelle: In Johannesburg



(image via Time)

According to Time Magazine (link via Gawker), Dave Chappelle isn't "nutso," he's just a little ... (sotto voce) "ghetto":

"Dave Chappelle shows up to our interview in a red t-shirt, blue jeans and shiny white sneakers. He lopes around in his usual style, pacing a lot, but does not seem like a man struggling to speak or to order his thoughts at all. He's lucid and thoughtful and a couple of times asks me to give him some time to think about answers. He concedes that he is dealing with a lot of issues and mentions that he had consulted a psychiatrist about a week ago for a forty minute session. He is also quite fastidious about keeping his new sneakers clean and stops at least twice to wipe smudges off their toes."

Way to keep those "kicks" pristine, playboy! That's a solid "6.5" on the patented Corsair Ghett-odometer (TM)." Had Chappelle taken the opportunity, thusly, "to blow on a Nintendo to make it work," well, then Dave would have scored that ever elusive "Perfect Ghetto: 10." That goes without saying. (Huffily)

Seriously, though: The Corsair is always hardest on the ones he loves. It is our cold, Geminian way. Better to take some time and studiously consider the whole "entourage" thing rather thing than go the MC Hammer route. Is it better to go at things "all by myself," like Eric Carmen said, or throw one's lot with attentive lackeys? We think Chappelle is on the right track.

Good to hear that Dave Chappelle isn't institutionalized -- just that he's sort of smoothing his head out, $50 million precariously in the balance -- looking to "fill (his) spirit back up," with close pal, Salim Domar, which ... may or may not be "Xhosha -click-click language" for "$15 million room and board, sucker"


(image via Americanblack) A little ... Sun City R n R? (Kidding)

David Carr Bitchslaps Tina Brown



(image via CNN)

Has Tina Brown's "honey touch" (TM) gone mysteriously MIA? So says the notoriously prickly David Carr, in the latest New York Times' blog-influenced media smackdown (For further reference see Alessandra Stanley's damning "blog entry" on Couric). Or maybe The Corsair is blowing this way out of proportion. (The Corsair rubs his hands together diabolically)

We've always rather liked the essentially harmless Tina Brown, although that hasn't hampered our style of always bitchslapping the media luminaries with whom we have grown particularly fond (For further reference, see our delicious harassments of Arianna Huffy, Allegra Beck Versace and good ole Bill Clinton over the years).

But David Carr -- oftentimes a guest on Topic A -- somewhat bitchslaps Lady Tina ("The start was rugged - she frequently looked surprised when the camera came her way ...") in the pages of The Old Gray Lady today:

"It was supposed to be serious fun, but almost no one joined the party. Broadcast in an infomercial ghetto - Sunday nights on a business channel - her show managed the ratings of a night-light, an average of 62,000 viewers in the last year. The final show will be broadcast May 29.

"All in all, not a surprise. But the shuttering of her show was seen as a second strike by competitors and media watchers keeping or settling scores. Now they can say aloud what they whispered after the expensive pratfall of Talk: that the chief bestower of buzz had lost her honey touch. (It doesn't help that Ms. Brown's next big project, a biography of Princess Diana, underscores a career-long crush on royalty that has not been diminished by growing public boredom.)"

Oh no he didn't! There is even a quixotic mention of Tina's "ratlike cunning." Finally, on reports that Tina left the chat show on her own initiative, "She and CNBC insisted there was no push, but Ms. Brown, who can be good at math if not budgets, knew the score."

Wha-pow! Score: 15-Love, Carr. More bitchslapping.

A Little of the Old In and Out



(image via KeninSwitzerland)

In: Amon Versus Amon. Oh, it's on like Gray Poupon! According to our favorite crimefighting gossip duo, Rush and Molloy:

"When it comes to allegations of drink-throwing, hair-pulling, head-bashing and adultery, society divorces don't get much livelier than the case of Amon versus Amon.

"Maurice Amon is chairman of the SICPA Group, a 78-year-old Swiss firm whose specialized inks are used in 90% of the world's bank notes, including U.S. greenbacks.

"Maurice's wife, Roberta Amon, is fighting for her share of the money that money has brought them.

"Having divided their time between New York and Switzerland, Roberta wants their divorce heard in Manhattan Supreme Court, where she has accused Maurice of 'cruel and inhuman treatment.'"

Apparently, when not dividing their time between The Continent and New York City, Roberta has *allegedly* been concentrating on dividing Maurice's skull:

" ... Maurice told Southampton Police that, on July 15, 2004, at 5:40 a.m., Roberta woke him 'and began to hit, push and yell at me. She bit my shoulder ... [and] hit me on the head with a vase,' which required Maurice to have his head stitched closed at Southampton Hospital.

The old vase over the head, eh? Old School. It gets worse:

"Though Maurice did not press charges, he claims Roberta's temper flared again on Feb. 10, 2005, when she encountered him and (Maurice's alleged girlfriend) while they were lunching at the Eagle Club in the Swiss ski resort of Gstaad.

"Susanne told local police that, after berating her, Roberta 'grabbed my veal sausage' and 'threw hot wine at the table. ... Two waiters tried to restrain her.'"

What did the table do to her? The real "Swiss pimp move (TM)," however, would have been to mush the seared Muscovy Duck in Maurice's face a la Cagney's infamous "grapefruit massage." Anyway, full monte here.




(image via NYSocialDiary) R Couri Hay, exquisite phony, "Glad-handing," cell phoning.

Out: R Couri Hay. It appears our favorite social mountaineer, R Couri Hay has fallen off "Mount Basabe" (Averted Gaze) and is in for a "digital colonoscopy." Is Fabian Basabe "fingering" R Couri Hay? (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment). Really, it's not what you think. Apparently, the two were on the same page of the same "manual" (no pun intended, otherwise, of course, we would have gone in for "man-ual"), but not anymore. According to Lloyd Grove's Lowdown:

"... I'm told, Basabe is fingering the press-friendly Hay as the source of several damaging gossip items that were printed in other columns - notably a claim that Basabe was banned from the Bush White House after his notorious dirty-dancing escapade last year with presidential twin Barbara Bush."

Hmm. Grisly visual notwithstanding, Grove gets to the bottom (again, no pun intended) of this story, plumbing the depths (ehr), excavating this:

"... 'There's been no falling out. He's my friend, I like him very much,' Hay calmly told Lowdown, adding that he was never Basabe's publicist to begin with.

"'There's never been an arrangement beyond those two brief projects' - the modeling gig and the wedding party.

"But an hour later, Hay was agitated when he phoned back with Basabe also on the line.

"'This is outrageous that you allow a source to manipulate you!' Hay thundered. 'You're very lucky that we have enough respect to call you. You've got a source who's a liar! You have to go back to your source with a whip! You have to cut people like that off at the [private parts]!'

"Hay then pleaded: 'Fabian, tell him. Are we friends?'

"Basabe tersely complied. 'We're friends,' he said tonelessly, without elaboration."

If the whole "PR pitcher-catcher" dialectic can be characterized thusly. Full dreadful story here.



(Surprisingly sexy image of Sharon via The Mirror, from Basic Instinct 2)

In: Sharon Stone. Newly adopted parent Sharon Stone, who the British press inexplicably have nicknamed "Shazza," is in. According to the 3AM Girls:

"(Sharon Stone) already has a four-year-old son, Roan, whom she adopted with ex-husband Phil Bronstein, but last week she announced she had adopted another child, and named him - wait for it - Laird Vonne Stone.

"... Arriving at the press conference 45 minutes late, Shazza swept into the Nikki Club in the Carlton Hotel, declaring: 'I don't want to talk about my private life.'

"But in the same breath she said: "I couldn't imagine that life could get better after having the experience of being a mother to Roan.

"'Vonne was my aunt's name and is my second name,' she said, without explaining where she'd cobbled up 'Laird.'"

Out: Dick Tracy 2. We studiously avoided the first Dick Tracy, on the grounds that the Dick Tracy comic book franchise sucks ass. The Fantastic Four is more to our liking. Apparently, though, Warren Beatty is up for the sequel (link via Cinematical). Suuper. We are glad to see that Beatty's judgment since Ishtar and Town and Country is still in fine form.



Above: Evil media overlord Les Moonves and his best bot Julie Chen powernosh at the Four Seasons. (image via NYSocialDiary)

In: Philanthropy. The Corsair found this story especially uplifting. According to our favorite social chronicler, David Patrick Columbia in NYSocialDiary:

"Last night at The Four Seasons restaurant the Irvington Institute for Immunological Research held its annual Sunday night buffet dinner. More than 275 attended and they took in more than $400,000 for the Institute.

"Basically, the Institute is a world leader in the funding of basic research in immunology--the study of the body's defense system against disease.They support innovative scientific research that can lead to therapies and cures for AIDS, cancer, diabetes, lupus, and rheumatoid arthritis, and other serious conditions and diseases. Through Irvington's renowned Postdoctoral Fellowship Program, talented young investigators from the United States and around the world receive three years of funding to carry out research of their own design under the mentoring of senior scientists at leading universities and medical centers in the U.S."

Sounds goddamn good.



(image via PBS)

Out: Morley Safer. We do not fancy the rheumy-eyed 60 Minutes correspondent Morley Safer. Can we put him out to pasture already? Those who can't do "shock" (for further reference see: Madonna) Last night's bullshit meditation on the subject of bullshit did not further endear us to Old Morley's campaign. But --oh -- he looked so delighted at the prospect of saying "Bullshit" on camera. And while we do not begrudge the elderly their fun, the report, which extolled the virtues of the dubious pseudo-philosophical bestseller "On Bullshit," is truly astonishing in its exploration of the "thimble depths." (Averted Gaze)

The report begins by instantly "pooh-pooing" such "dreary" works as Kierkegaard's infinitely interesting Concept of Dread in favor of the controversial ("Conversational") bestseller. Who needs Kierkegaardian irony when one has Jon Stewart at the ready cracking wise on Ari Fleischer's bullshit spin. Oh, Ha-ha, Morley safer, ha-fucking-ha.

Morley Safer does so deeply aspire to be the "engager philosophe" of the cultural liberal elite. (The Corsair shoots a look of pure disgust) Safer stinks of the 92nd Street Y and Martha's Vinyard. Alas, Safer lacks the gift of taste, so necessary to become a distinctive cultural figure for the ages, like Montherlant or Mircea Eliade. Safer also lacks the powers of concentration necessary to taste's cultivation. And so, Safer champions naught else but utter shit, like, for example, the sloppy paintings of Botero, or the pretty but distinctly middlebrow opera of Renee Fleming.

To call Kierkegaard's works "dreary (however psychologically dark and ground-of-being)," and, in its place, to champion the facile Harry G. Frankfurt?! (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) If Safer had a rigorous thought process, and not just raw cultural ambitions masquerading as passionate logical inquiry, he might have found that Kierkegaard actually approached the same subject, often, and in his examinations put Franfort's shit philosophy to shame. But ... no, Safer cannot be bothered to accumulate Kierkegaardian on such (Averted Gaze) "dreary" subjects.

Star Wars 3 at Cannes



Above: "Watch it back there," sniffs Billy Zane, as a clone stormtrooper arrests the aggressively metrosexual Titanic star on the social misdemeanor of: "Excessive Fabulosity."

Hello!Magazine covers Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith at Cannes:

"... Director George Lucas said that the latest episode, which is a prequel to the original, reflects events in Iraq, in the same way that the first movie, 30 years ago, was inspired by the Vietnam War."

"Battalions of storm troopers and fights with light sabres set the impressive scene for the red carpet event, which was graced by the likes of Sharon Stone � ultra elegant in pale gold � and Eva Longoria."



Above: Sharon Stone, ahead of the crowd, early adopter

"A �1-million party featuring huge ice sculptures of the sci-fi saga's characters followed the lavish screening.

"The most striking effect of the evening, though, was Natalie Portman's hair � or lack of."



Above: A dirty little Sith trick executed flawlessly by George Lucas instantly renders the normally sassy Natalie Portman into "Press Junket Compliant."

"The 23-year-old staggered onlookers by making her entrance with a shaven head. 'After all the crazy hairstyles I had to endure for the (Star Wars) films, it's quite liberating to have no hair,' she said of the new 'do, which is a pre-requisite for her new movie, V For Vendetta.

"Her co-stars Hayden Christensen and Samuel Jackson joined her at the premiere, though Ewan MacGregor was unable to make it because he's rehearsing for the West End musical Guys And Dolls.



Qui en mas macho:



??? (via allposters)

The whole story here.

60 Minutes: Prison Inmates Are Crafty



(image via Brentwoodmagazine)

The Corsair has always had this sick fascination with the uncanny craftiness of prison inmates. A show like "Oz" never jumps the shark. That's why that whole James St. James-Michael Alig "Phone Call From a Felon" dialogue was so culturally significant, IMHO anyway. Gurdjieff tells a story of being in an Far Eastern prison where some of the inmates were so crafty, that they could throw an origami note through a tiny airhole many yards upwards, to their waiting relations on the other side. In that Subterranean cosmos of society's refuse -- prison -- there is still commerce and invention, just ... nothing we would ever want to get involved in.

Who -- for example -- was the alchemist who pioneered jailhouse alcoholic "sterno" out of the odd fermented commissary fruit cup? (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) Was it "Mother Necessity"? And what about the construction of "The Shiv"? First one makes it, then one hides it from constant checks, then, finally, one contrives to slip it in between the enemy ribs. How do cons achieve such a level of "craft"? Were they always such filthy schemers? Are some men simply born that way?

But We Digress. Leslie Stahl, who always has the trendiest hair in investigative reporting (Sorry, David Gregory via wonkette), brings us this story, at considerable personal risk, on 60 Minutes on Sunday:

"The prison involved is no less than Pelican Bay State Prison in Northern California; specifically, its isolation unit called the 'SHU,' or Security Housing Unit, where inmates are housed in nearly solitary confinement, locked in their cells for 22 and a half hours a day, searched regularly for weapons and their personal effects X-rayed for contraband. Yet members of the Aryan Brotherhood, Mexican Mafia, Nuestra Familia, and other prison gangs are able to run thriving criminal enterprises out on the streets from inside the prison, 60 Minutes has confirmed from state and federal investigators. What kinds of crimes are orchestrated from the SHU?"

"'Anywhere from murder to money laundering, bank robberies, armored-car robberies, home invasions, drug deals, prostitution,' according to Epi Cortina, a former member of the Nuestra Familia who lived on the SHU for nine years. And how easy were inmates able to get messages out on to the street? 'Real easy,' according to Cortina and other former gang members interviewed by Stahl."

Good idea to put the sweet-smelling and feminine Leslie Stahl in with these Maximum Security gang bangers. Then again, something tells me the worried looking correspondent Bob Simon would be just as " Das Ewig-Weibliche" to this gang of mugs. With just a dash of the Stahl charm, and the promise of "Fama" via television, these men become suggestible to her agenda. Outsmarted. Thus, they reveal things ... on 60 Minutes ... only the most watched show on Sunday, the most attentive socially conscious audience ... and these things ... are directly incriminating and against the convict's self interest. But the instinct to fame makes them powerless to resist, or even anticipate the prison reform, the making it so much harder, that their boasting will, no doubt, precipitate. And that, in a way, is the bigger story.

"Inmates on the SHU are able to break their isolation and scheme with one another through a myriad of clever methods, including talking through storm drains and ventilation pipes, as well as through something called 'fishing,' in which inmates fashion a fishing line from the threads of their underwear, bed sheets and socks and tie tiny notes onto the end. The inmates then slide the notes under the prison doors, hook their lines and reel in each other's secret messages."

Jesus. Imagine the tenacity, the motor skills, the sheer reptile cunning involved:

"Once they communicate with each other, the most effective way they get their messages to their foot soldiers on the outside is through the U.S. mail. Sending letters is one of their rights guaranteed by law. Inmates write letters using codes that have been so hard to decipher, they have been sent to the FBI's cryptologists in Washington. Inmates also embed secret codes in their intricate prison artwork that is then mailed out to their 'homeboys' on the street."

"'And so what happens,' says Lt. Steve Perez, a senior official at Pelican Bay, 'is that when this [artwork] goes out, if you're not paying attention to what's happening, if you're not looking for the indicators of how they communicate, a beautiful piece of artwork becomes a message to have someone killed.' Adds Perez, 'These are the most creative, the most ingenious men, deeply committed to achieving their criminal goals.'"

Are you going to be watching it? The Corsair will be watching it.

A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Sophie Marceau, Cannes. Elegant French actress Sophie Marceau in the middle of an, ahem, "wardrobe malfunction," (functionnaire mal d'amoire) at -- of all places -- "Cannes" (Averted Gaze). The Sunday Herald finds her pretentious. We, however, find her to have ... chic.

Out: Nuclear Option. By the time Star Wars Revenge of the Sith is out in theaters across the country, unless this last minute meeting with Senate leaders all up in Bill Frist's "bitch" on Sunday afternoon (Too early for Wolf Blitzer's wrap up?) bears fruit, we are in for one of the most wrenching Senate battles over the fate of our republic. Will there be a Senate shutdown a la "Gingy's" fightin' 104th Congress?

Although TheHill seemed skeptical of the outcome of this "hootenanny," they wrote:

"Frist said Friday that he planned to host a group of several senators for a social event at his home, then volunteered that Sen. Pete Domenici (R-N.M.) will be cooking duck for the group.
"Frist also indicated that he was considering several options to end the judicial filibuster next week, including some that differ from the so-called 'nuclear' or 'constitutional' option, which involves a parliamentary maneuver executed with a simple majority. One other idea that has been floated involves changing the standing orders of the Senate. Standing orders have the effect of rules, and have been used to guide committee action and other procedures. Another would involve passing a resolution setting up a 'fast-track' procedure for judges, similar to one used to speed trade legislation through Congress. 'We have six or seven options,' Frist told a small group of reporters Friday. 'Everybody assumes that the constitutional option is the only way to go. It is not.'"

Will Senator Trent Lott be supplying possum with all the fixins and the ... "bacon drippin's"? Will Ted Kennedy be supplying the Chivas Regal? Or, will the Senator's be forced to draw from ancient jugs of Olde Bobby Byrd's West Virginian Pre-Prohibition Moonshine (TM)? Is it true, BTW, that Teddy's wife, Victoria Reggie, has him on "lockdown," eating rabbit-food and drinking in moderation? What's this world coming to (Averted Gaze) if Teddy K can't put back a bottle of "The Chivy," during a marthon session of groupie sex on his boat of Hyannisport?



(Warhol headshot of Kempner via Jablonkagallerie)

In: Nan Kempner. The next time you hear Vader-like wheezing at Swifty's, it may not be the odd investment banking billionaire righting himself still hours after after sexing his trophy wife; it might be not that but the indomitable Nan Kempner. If Nan Kempner didn't exist, then it would have been necessary to invent her. The icy-thin, American socialite launched a thousand parodies (and "air-kisses") from the pages of Spy, and served as the prototype for Vanity Fair's Nan Darien. Now, According to Gatecrasher:

"The gaggle of young socialites at Memorial Sloan-Kettering's 'Aces Are Wild' benefit on Thursday was buzzing with concern over the health of Nan Kempner.

"A family friend confirmed to me yesterday that the socialite superstar, 74, had been in a medically induced coma but is now recovering.

"She was admitted to intensive care at New York Hospital and placed on a respirator.

"... Kempner has recently been in declining health and breathes with the aid of an oxygen tank. In her 30 years of heading up Memorial Sloan-Kettering benefits with pal Pat Buckley, she helped raise a staggering $75 million for the cancer hospital."

We wish Nan Kempner the best.



(image via freenet)

Out: Paris Hilton. Paris' conquest of Cannes continues apace. Despite the fact that she has not a single movie in competition, her massive entourage and dramatic yacht entrance are garnering all the press buzz. Damn. Just when you thought she was about to go away, Paris gets all "international." Just like an unpredictable Aquarian, she. According to the 3AM Girls:

"NINE hours of boozing is never quite enough, especially when your name is Paris Hilton.

"Determined not to call last orders on a mega-bender in Cannes, the hotel heiress demanded that the �500-a-night Hotel Du Cap re-open the bar just for her and her entourage.

"And that was despite the fact that the 24-year-old - who is in Cannes to promote her latest film, National Lampoon's Pledge This - was so trollied that at one point she stumbled into the gents' (bathroom)...

"A source at the hotel tells us: 'She and her pals started drinking on a yacht at 6pm. Then they moved on to a few other swish drinking holes.

"'By 2.30am they were still up for a party so they headed to the du Cap, where Hollywood stars such as Val Kilmer are staying.'"

Well, Val Kilmer is not exactly a star. He is, of course, a malevolent celestial occurence of some kind, true. Gaseous, yes; flatulent, absolutely. But not a "star," per se.

"The bar had closed at 2am but that didn't deter Paris and her pals.

"Our spy says: 'She looked a little tired and emotional and headed straight for the bar. She was politely told she was too late, but Paris doesn't take no for an answer.'

"A flunkey was soon dispatched to sweet-talk the bar staff, while Paris, who was looking unusually buxom, staggered into the gents.

"Our spy continues: 'Paris and her friends were in a state of undress in the bathroom when a male guest walked in.'

"When she realised her mistake Paris shrieked: 'But the sign doesn't look like a man!' then legged it to the ladies. After sharing a cubicle with her pal she started wiping herself with paper towels, wailing, 'Look! I've got vodka and tequila all over my dress and my skin!'"

More story here.

The Chappelle Mystery, Continued



(image via dga.org)

It only gets stranger. And what -- you ask -- can be stranger than the funniest man in the world entering a South African sanitarium? According to The LATimes (link via Drudgie Poo):

"Late last month, comic Dave Chappelle called his bosses at the Viacom Inc.-owned cable network Comedy Central with some distressing news. He had suddenly decided to quit 'Chappelle's Show,' the enormously popular sketch series that has made him a $50-million star and a household name among young fans of his outrageous spoofs and impersonations. The reasons were murky, and network President Doug Herzog stayed on the line for a long time, working hard to turn his star around."

The Corsair has a --wink, wink -- transcript of the conversation:

Doug Herzog (Answering line): Hello, Dave. (Kissing Ass a la Hollywood) You honor me. What can I do for the star of this network.

Dave Chappelle (Pfft!): Dougie Fresh, yes, about this whole $50 million deal -- I, I just don't think it will work out. I'm sorry.

Doug Herzog (Astonished at Losing the Top Dog): Dave .. What is this about? Do you want to negotiate more of the revenues from the DVD sales? That can be put back on the table. Talk to me, Dave. What? How can I make you change your mind?

Dave Chappelle: Hold on a second, Doug (The Sound of water churning; a deep intake of air --blissful silence -- then, violent, tumultuous coughs). Oh, yeah -- that was a good one. Who is this on the phone, again? Why are you calling me! Is this the CIA! Get out of the tinfoil!

Doug Herzog (In a Nervous, Ingratiating Hollywood Tone): Doug Herzog, the President of Comedy Central, Dave. Your friend. Homeslice. Your boy. The man who is making you rich and powerful and --

DC (Incredulous, into the receiver): Is this the voice of The Great Tempter? (Pfffft) The Spirit "Humwawa"? "Puzuzu," is that you? Momma always said you'd be coming for me. Aint this the shit. Hey! This sounds like the voice of ... Hollywood Corruption. -- Of The ... Boulevard of Broken Dreams; Midwestern cheerleaders. -- And soiled casting couches and broken assistants. (Emotionally, Spraying Hot Tears) Hollywood?! Are you there? "Jojo Dancer," your life is calling!
DH: It's. uh, Doug Herzog, of Comedy ...

DC (Manic Mood Change): Oh, hi Doug. Swell and lovely. Thanks for calling. Nice to hear your soothing voice. I was just thinking to myself here. See, riches ... (Trails off)

DH (Concerned): Dave, are you still there? Maybe we should get you some help.

DC (Stunned) Ah yes ... Where was I (Pfft) ?

DH (Growing Frustrated, But Taking Control): Riches, Dave, I ...

DC (Energetic) Yes! Riches! Rubies and Dubloons and Drachma and stuff. Who needs them, Doug. Does anybody ever take them with them to, like, Heaven and stuff? Who needs power and riches when you can just "walk the earth." I want to "loaf," Doug Herzog, loaf like that misunderstood cat in Somerset Maugham's "Razor's Edge." Get into adventures and shit.

DH: Dave, Have you been doing bong hits naked while watching Pulp Fiction again?

DC (Suspicious) How did you know that? Has ... has ... Comedy Central rigged up camera's in my crib? What is this ... some kind of Comedy Punk'd? Is this a camera in my bong? You went all up in my bitch like that, Doug? I'm Dave Chappelle, bitch! Where's Ashton Kutcher?! (The sound of furniture being tossed around). I'll murder his little test-tube-baby ass!

"... Days later, Chappelle relented and said he'd stay after all, according to two sources familiar with the situation."

Dave Chappelle (Recorded message after the beep): Hahaha. Woo! Hi, Doug. Dave Chappelle. $50 million man. Whew. Kinda wild, there -- haha. About that conversation a few days ago? I don't remember the details; don't want to. I don't know why my sofa and tv are floating in the pool. But, all systems are go for the show. My heads screwed on straight now. I can come correct on this.

"But then matters unraveled entirely. Chappelle, who failed to report to work April 29, fled to South Africa and mysteriously cut off contact at least temporarily with some of his family members and closest advisors, according to sources inside Comedy Central and close to Chappelle. The following week, the network announced that the third-season premiere of its No. 2 show (after 'South Park') would be postponed indefinitely."

Tragic-comedy Central?

"'It's crushing on a lot of levels,' Herzog said in a phone interview Friday. 'There's no question about it, he was the hottest thing on the network?. It's tough to lose your big power hitter like that.' Clearly, Chappelle's disappearing act comes at a bad time for Comedy Central, which has been piling up record ratings and counting on fresh Chappelle episodes to help launch a full slate of new programs this summer. Now, executives can't say when ? or even if ? 'Chappelle's Show' will return. The 31-year-old Chappelle, like many performers, has been known to reschedule tapings at the last minute and engage in other unpredictable behavior, Herzog said. But his abrupt and unexplained departure left virtually everyone close to the comic baffled.

"'He's never just dropped off the face of the planet like this,' Herzog said.

More here

No posts today. Taking the day off to recharge. Be back tomorrow.

Cannes Roundup


There are lots of stories about what's going on at Cannes on the web. Dark movies for a darker world. Scarlett is not Woody Allen's muse. The Weinstein's are going crazy, generating international monster buzz, making "2 deals (at Cannes) in less than 24 hours," reports Indiewire. The rise of India, Indian film, and Aishwarya Rai.


Reuters writes of Kilomatre Zero:

"Kurdish Iraqi director Hiner Saleem needed a statue of Saddam Hussein to star in his 2005 movie 'Kilometre Zero.'

"No Kurd would agree to make one, so Saleem finally convinced an Arab sculptor to travel to the Kurdish north. The only problem was, when the Kurdish authorities discovered the effigy of the toppled leader, the artist was put in jail.

"Such logistical headaches surrounded the first Iraqi film to be shown in competition at the annual Cannes Film Festival, reflecting one of main themes of 'Kilometre' -- the tensions between Iraqi Arabs and Kurds."

A Little of the Old In and Out



(link via SUNY/Albany)

In: John Simon. The Corsair is sorry to hear that our favorite Illyrian gangster, theater critic John Simon is leaving New York after 37 years (And Mamet takes his shot via The Huff). We were a fact checker at New York back in 1995, and met the aforementioned John Simon, who was anything but cool. He was a courtly gentleman, preferring to stand for about nearly an hour, while The Corsair factchecked his copy at his desk rather than dislodge us from the chair which we were occupying (In those days, New York always had an eccentric "chair" to "employee" ratio; when we watched the historic OJ verdict in Kurt Andersen's office, 90 percent of the staff either stood or lay doggo on the floor). That's why this story on John Simon's surliness in Lowdown struck The C as kind of, well, odd:

"I hear that wags at New York magazine - whose editor in chief, Adam Moss, just fired theater critic John Simon - fondly remember the politically incorrect Simon's off-the-cuff pans in the office. 'Sheer faggotry!' is how he's alleged to have dismissed more than one show in his heavy Slavic accent. On another occasion, apparently angry at a fact-checker who fiddled with his copy, Simon is supposed to have shouted: 'I will kick him in the testes, and if she is a female,' well, same general area. Yesterday the 79-year-old Simon told me: 'I never said any of those things - it's baloney,' and added: 'This might be their attempt to besmear me.'"


Above: Washington DC. We shall know their velocity. (image via wonkette)

Out: "Take off your shoes and Run." Washington DC is not a place where buff and tanned bodies need apply. Power is the only coin in Babylon. When The Corsair thinks of DC, lines like "vast expanse of pasty skin," and "in need of a robust multivitamin" immediately come to mind. "Running" is a verb used only with regards to a campaign, during which black SUVs are the preferred mode of transport.

That having been said, it is particularly amusing when events conspire in such a way that the inhabitants of that imperial city are forced to briskly pick up the pace and haul ass. Like yesterday covered by The Washington Post (link via Drudgie Poo):

"'Move, move! This is not a drill!' police officers shouted repeatedly as senators in suits and sightseers in shorts scrambled down marble staircases to the sunlit sidewalks surrounding the Capitol.

"Some walked slowly to Union Station, taking out their cell phones and conducting business as usual. Sen. Edward M. Kennedy (D-Mass.) shuffled in the afternoon heat, leaning against a pole and pausing to catch his breath.

"House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) was literally lifted out of her pinkish high heels by Capitol Police in a hallway outside the House chamber. One shoe was later found; the other remains missing."

Of course the scare was only an unidentified, unauthorized but harmless two seat plane. But, Dear Lord, to jhave seen Ted Kennedy in mid-sprint, sock-suspenders exposed, life flashing before his bloodshot eyes; or Pelosi hoisted aloft like a laughing toddler; or, for that matter, to see Congressman Charlie Rangel, busting his man-girdle in the rush! And this:

"Tourist Ryan Bower, 24, from St. Joseph, Mo., was in the Senate chamber when the chaos commenced.

"'We were watching the session. All of the sudden, guards came into the chamber and told all the senators to start running,' Bower said.

"'Everyone was evacuated equally. It was like a dead run. I found myself running with Senator [Patrick] Leahy and other senators,' Bower said of the Vermont Democrat."

The Boston Herald says otherwise of Teddy K:

" As thousands of startled lawmakers and staffers rushed to evacuate the Capitol, Kennedy (D-Mass.) coolly mapped his own private escape route to The Monocle, a clubby restaurant favored by pols and lobbyists for decades.

"While panic gripped much of Capitol Hill in the wake of yesterday's security scare, Sen. Edward M. Kennedy opted for salad and some ice tea."

Ice tea? Not Chivas Regal? That's got to be fake. And:

"U.S. Rep. Stephen F. Lynch (D-South Boston) was nearly run over by Democratic congresswoman Loretta Sanchez, who tossed away her shoes and sprinted barefoot away from the House chamber amid a throng of folks scrambling for a hasty getaway.

"'I saw Loretta Sanchez go screaming by at about a buck-eighty,' said Lynch.

"'There was some serious tension. It was alarming to see all those folks running at a dead run.'"

A Latina with arroz con pollo in the trunk made a Southie eat her dust. Priceless. We cannot wait to hear what Gore Vidal makes of all this thusness on Bill Maher's Real Time tomorrow night.



Above: Helen Gurley Brown and Ellen V. Futter at "Dinosaurs: Ancient Fossils, New Discoveries." This one is too damn easy.

In: These Lovely Bones. Our favorite social chronicler, David Patrick Columbia (Who, incidentally, we hear had quite the killer show last night) covers the monied classes at "Dinosaurs: Ancient Fossils, New Discoveries" at the Museum of Natural History in NYSocialDiary today.

Out: The Cut. The Corsair has previously had nice things to say of Tommy Hilfiger. But this new idea, "The Cut," which borrows -- heavily -- from the success of Heidi Klum's Project Runway ... is not something that a public company ought to be doing. It goes without saying. According to Fashionweekdaily:

"As with PR, The Cut searches for America's next great designer through a series of fashion and business challenges. Like the Project Runway cast, the Cutters will live together in a Manhattan residence and mug for camera crews for the next 16 weeks.

"But while Project Runway offered a cash prize and an apprenticeship with Banana Republic, The Cut looks to aim higher. Its grand prize reward? The chance to design a whole collection under the Tommy Hilfiger label.

"... The series premiers June 9 at 8 pm on CBS. "

Hm. Okay, so, like, if the line fails -- which it likely will -- thus eating up company revenues, further imperiling the Hilfiger brand, are shareholders allowed to "choke a bitch"? Or, how about we run up on Tommy Hilfiger and (Averted Gaze) "do a Rambo." 'Cause, like, that would only be par for the course; playing with The Corsair's money is like playing with our emotions.



(image via GTN)

In: Sir Harry Evans. A touch of Harry in the night? Sir Harry now has an opportunity to get out of that musty study in that duplex we hear so much about and shine a little. Stretch those legs. Work it, girlfriend. According to The Guardian (link via IWantMedia):

"The BBC has chosen former Sunday Times editor Sir Harold Evans to take over its Radio 4 slot vacated by the late Alistair Cooke.

"Since Cooke died in March last year at the age of 95, there has been uncertainty about whether the Letter from America programme, which the legendary broadcaster presented for 50 years, would continue.

"But the BBC confirmed yesterday it had approached Sir Harold to take over.

"A spokeswoman said the corporation was in talks with Sir Harold and that it was 'hopeful' of striking a deal, while stressing no contracts had yet been signed.

"After Cooke's death Helen Boaden, then the controller of Radio 4, said the BBC had decided against finding a replacement on the basis that 'Alistair was unique.' The feeling was echoed by Sir Harold last night who said Cooke was irreplaceable and he was aware the BBC didn't want some 'pseudo clone.'

"Speaking from Ohio, where he is on a tour promoting his latest book, he said: "I think Alistair Cooke, well he is sui generis."

"There's a possibility that I might do it, but it's no more than that at the moment."

Oh, for the love of God, Harry, please do it. You know you'd be super at it, and -- don't you think the whole coffee table book genre (Exagerated cough suggesting feigned detachment) has --er -- exhausted itself?



(image via nbccableinfo)

Out: Dennis Miller. First, CNBC's Tina abruptly announces her last Topic A show is at month's end. Now, hairplug advocate (and consumer) Dennis Miller gets the axe in the breadbasket. At The Huff, a newly unemployed Dennis Miller Show producer has an arch inner monologue (in green) over his former boss, the CNBC President's canellation-consolation email:

"I wanted to let you all know that we will be expanding our signature Business Day programming into Primetime on the East Coast and will be adding an additional airing of 'Mad Money with Jim Cramer' at 9 p.m. ET/PT."

Wait a minute. That's my time-slot.

"We will be introducing a new Business Day program at 7 p.m. ET sometime in the Third Quarter. I will share additional details about this program in the coming weeks."

Forget the Third Quarter. What's happening now? How about a few more additional details re: that first paragraph?

"Dennis is an exceptionally talented comedian with an unmatched wit and he and his team consistently delivered a very entertaining program."

What's this? Flattery?

"I want to personally thank Dennis, Eddie Feldmann and their entire group."

In an email?

"... CNBC is a trusted, real-time investor network and our viewers rely on us for actionable information wrapped in the most compelling business stories of the day".

Does this count as one? More.



(image via TheA-List.org)

In: Pop bitch. This week's gossip includes:

"Which colourful US female popstar has a secret lesbian love in London? Whenever she's in town, the star likes to get the party started with her record company lover. Both girls have a thing about bikers: the popstar dates them, while the SonyBMG girl has a copy of Hard Dykes On Bykes on her laptop."

Hmm. Who could the "colorful" popstar be? Could it be "Pink," of the colorful name who has dated "biker" Corey Hart? Ashlee? Who is it?

And this little chestnut via a tipster: "SG writes:

"One of my friends is working in post production on the movie Herbie, which stars Lindsay Lohan and a VW bug. After the third or forth test screening, the Disney execs came to the conclusion that Lindsay's breasts were too big and some necklines were too low.

"So they have spent millions of dollars on CGI effects to raise her necklines and lower her cup size. But the best part is the dvd the graphics people sent comparing the before and after breasts. Her breasts went from mountains to molehills in nanoseconds over and over again."



Out: Cameron Diaz. Alleged Shame (image via TheSun). According to The Sun:

"JUSTIN Timberlake's bride-to-be Cameron Diaz has been caught snogging a married man.

"The Hollywood babe, 32, was spotted in a clinch with the TV producer while her pop star fianc� prepared to go into hospital for a throat operation. Witness Oscar Duran said: 'Cameron wrapped her arms around the guy and started kissing him on the mouth. They stood kissing for a good three minutes.'

"Cameron and producer Shane Nickerson, 33, who works on her MTV travel show Trippin have enjoyed more than just a professional relationship, according to a US magazine.

"Mr Duran told how he saw the pair emerging from the Oracle Post studio in Santa Monica where Trippin is dubbed and stop behind bushes in broad daylight.

"He said: 'They seemed to glance around to see if anyone was watching.'

"Mr Duran confessed: 'I was surprised they would stand there in public on the sidewalk kissing.'

"Nickerson's wife Elisa is a high school teacher. They have a one-year-old daughter Lucy."

Oh no she didn't! Allegedly, according to TheSun.

Dave Chappelle: In A South African Mental Hospital


(image via stressfactory)

As Paper Magazine's Mr. Mickey once told The Corsair, sagely, "Africa is a freak with two 'A's.'" And now (Averted Gaze), Dave Chappelle (link via Gawker) as well, albeit in a mental health facility of all places. Poor Africa. First, Angelina Jolie took it upon herself to use the continent as so much organic scenery to her seduction of Brad Pitt ("What's in the boooxxxx"). Then, last Saturday, the New York Times Magazine launched yet another of their slavery-rape-war-famine-pillage pieces on the continent, so liberals could experience "utter shock" (a novelty emotion) on a Sunday. Now, this.

Was it the $50 Million? We have to know. Is $50 million too much to "break off" for a brother all at once? Was it the weed? "Hydro"? Was the herb just a little bit too purterb? Was it the success? Was carrying a network (with backup from Jon Stewart) too much?

To wit, via loosie:

"(Chappelle) regularly arrives hours late for shooting and has disappeared for days at a time without offering an explanation for his absence."

Now, The Corsair doesn't want to offend anyone, although astute minds will see what is coming. The question must needs to be asked: Does showing up late for work w/o explanation mean Dave is losing it, per se: Or was Chappelle simply exercising "ghetto priviledges"? CP time.

Just asking.