kthxbai

If Hillary had left the Democratic race earlier, I would have felt bad for her. I'm past that threshold now, because frankly, I'm tired of having my intelligence insulted by her tone-deaf campaign staff.

See, there's Good Hillary and Bad Hillary. Good Hillary is witty and speaks passionately about helping others. Bad Hillary is condescending and can barely hide how aghast she is that she couldn't just walk into the race and claim the nomination just because her last name was Clinton. Unfortunately, the more Obama wins, the more we see of Bad Hillary, who is just baffled that people are getting excited about her opponent's talk of bringing people back together rather than the fine details of her health care plan.

Don't even get me started on how premature that whole discussion is, by the way. Hate to break it to folks, but the new president, whoever it is, will have to make compromises with a Congress of 400+ people and 100 Senators. Whatever bill that addresses health care won't be a carbon copy of either Hillary or Obama's idea, so focusing so incessantly on that particular issue strikes me as just a waste of time.

After Obama's win in Iowa, the Hillary campaign tried to co-opt the "change" theme. Sorry, someone who's been in the public eye for the better part of the last twenty years can not turn around and cast themselves as a fresh voice. That's not to say that an Obama presidency is the only venue for such change. Had Edwards not dropped out before Super Tuesday, I may have voted for him, because I think he had a lot of the same virtues plus a better chance in the general election. The kind of "change" people are demanding goes a lot deeper than race or gender...it's about some kind of challenge to the system.

I won't go into how the Clinton machine did the impossible during the South Carolina primary (made me dislike Bill Clinton), but the most irritating part of all this is their constant, pathetic attempts to turn everything into a "Scandal." Going over every word Obama's ever said, desperate to get people outraged. Oh my god, Obama used lines from a Deval Patrick speech! Oh my god, Obama wanted to be president when he was in kindergarten! Newsflash: Nobody gives a shit. It's only a scandal if people actually care.

Never mind that her campaign's defense of her Iraq War authorization vote boils down to "I voted for the authorization, but I didn't think he would actually do it!" Give me a fucking break. She knew exactly what would happen, she just hoped we'd be welcomed with flowers and smiles instead of what we have now. She may not be consistent, but she's not an idiot.

Though her horizons look grim, I'm not counting her out yet. She may yet pull off another comeback in the next round of primaries....and if she wins the nomination, I'll do my best to resist the temptation to vote for Nader. Still, if she does pull it off, it better be by a large margin, because if these "superdelegates" override the will of the voters, we're up chocolate creek without a popsicle stick.

Who Played the Pitbull?

6/8. Not bad, certainly better than some recent years. Not too many upsets, the big one was Marion Cotillard beating Julie Christie for Best Actress. I had considered the possibility, but I didn't really feel it could happen until La Vie En Rose won Makeup. That was early evidence that there was heavy support for this obscure little movie and Cotillard could do what no woman done since Sophia Loren in the 60s, win an acting Oscar for a non-English performance.

Supporting Actress was always the wiliest category, and Tilda Swinton's win definitely makes sense in the context of this year's ceremony, where every Best Picture nominee walked away with at least one award. It felt like No Country For Old Men stomped all over the place this year, but looking at the results, the wealth was decently spread.

Taxi to the Dark Side surprised me by beating the critic favorite No End in Sight for Documentary. Bourne Ultimatum had its own mini-sweep in the tech awards, wining Editing, Sound Mixing and Sound Editing. Pretty fun show, nice of the producers to keep it under four hours this time. Till next year!

Picture: No Country For Old Men
Director: Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country For Old Men
Actor: Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood
Actress: Marion Cotillard in La Vie En Rose
Supporting Actor: Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men
Supporting Actress: Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton
Original Screenplay: Diablo Cody for Juno
Adapted Screenplay: Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country For Old Men
Documentary: Taxi to the Dark Side
Animated Feature: Ratatouille
Foreign Language Film: The Counterfeiters
Cinematography: There Will Be Blood
Visual Effects: The Golden Compass
Art Direction: Sweeney Todd
Costume Design: Elizabeth - The Golden Age
Film Editing: The Bourne Ultimatum
Sound Mixing: The Bourne Ultimatum
Sound Editing: The Bourne Ultimatum
Makeup: La Vie En Rose
Original Song: "Falling Slowly" from Once
Original Score: Atonement
Documentary Short: Freeheld
Animated Short: Peter and the Wolf
Live-Action Short: Le Mozart Des Pickpockets
Honorary Oscar: Robert Boyle

Oscar 2008 Educated Guesses

Check my recent posts.

Top Ten Films of 2007

Latest list ever. I can blame my own busy schedule...but this was also a fairly week year as far as movies go. In a stronger year, some of these films would not have made it on, but it is what it is, I guess. The annual Oscar predictions are next week.


10. Sicko: When Michael Moore's latest documentary came out, it carried with it a promise that health care would finally be the subject of a substantive discussion within American culture. However, the prevalence of the issue today owes much more to the current presidential campaign than Moore's movie, which invited critics to distort the issue with the concluding sequences in Cuba. That finale became the discussion, rather than what truly makes this film great – its first half, which is almost entirely composed of personal stories from regular folks who, try as they might, could not find suitable care for their serious ailments. And these were the people who had health insurance. Now on DVD, hopefully Sicko will be understood not as the movie that made the big, bad communists look good, but as an expose of America's health care system, driven by profit rather than a desire to provide any actual care.


9. No Country For Old Men: I'm not positive this film deserves the tremendous success it's currently enjoying on the awards circuit, but there's certainly much to admire here. The stark and beautiful cinematography, breathtaking suspense and the already legendary performance of Javier Bardem as the freakish hitman Anton Chigurh are high points of a primal adventure that gradually morphs into a commentary on the separation between ideals about justice and the unfair truths of real life. Directors Joel and Ethan Coen have taken a break from the playful attitude that has pervaded their recent work, and have delivered a bleak portrait of humanity with exceptional craftsmanship.


8. Paprika: Most movies would use the premise of being able to explore the dreams of others as the basis for simply a creative adventure or thriller. Satoshi Kon is not so easily satisfied. Paprika uses this idea to explore a hypothetical debate about the ethics of invading the last truly private element of human life. It’s the director’s most challenging film yet, but it’s also easy to sit back and get lost in the gorgeous animation and another tremendous score from frequent Kon-collaborator Susumu Hirasawa.


7. Sweeney Todd: It’s hard to think of a better movie to see if you’re pissed off at the world. Sweeney Todd begins as an irresistible tale of vengeance, almost like a supervillain’s origin story. But there’s no hero to pit against Sweeney’s nihilism, just a corrupt elite all too deserving of a few slashes from his blade. Yet as the body count piles up, this adaptation of the classic musical brings things to a tragic conclusion, even though the grisly actions of the characters involved surely brought the suffering on themselves. Burton does a great job of staging the dark world Sweeney inhabits, but it’s Depp’s peerless performance that makes the movie soar.


6. Eastern Promises: David Cronenberg made a name for himself with films like Scanners and Videodrome, science-fiction tales that were also milestones in terms of on-screen gore. These days, he specializes in visceral yet poetic dramas like Eastern Promises, the story of a nurse (Naomi Watts) whose search for the truth behind an orphaned child gets her involved with the vicious Russian mob. Viggo Mortensen disappears into the role of Nikolai, a chauffeur who is much more than he first appears. The film features some truly shocking twists, layered characters, and the most animalistic fight scene in years.


5. Ratatouille: It’s not unusual to see a Pixar film make this list, and certainly not one with Brad Bird in the director’s chair. As with The Iron Giant and The Incredibles, this film does a superb job of wholly involving the audience in the story while dazzling them with animation sequences worthy of the late Chuck Jones. The idea of kids watching the work of a director who has always focused on talented individuals overcoming the restrictions placed on them by a society focused on uniformity is encouraging. It’s not exaggerating to say that at least one child may decide to follow his or her dreams based on what the rat character in this film accomplishes, and that’s a great thing.


4. Michael Clayton: You’ve seen the “crooked corporation” story before, but never like this. Tony Gilroy’s Michael Clayton begins by slowly immersing us in a remarkably convincing world where the titular character works as a “fixer,” getting wealthy corporate clients out of potentially embarrassing situations. It also takes the time to give insight to a character whose attempts to find an escape from his morally bankrupt career have all blown up in his face. By the time the intrigue seeps in, it’s frighteningly realistic. A terrific supporting cast, including Tom Wilkinson as a cog in the machine who finds his conscience and Tilda Swinton as a ice-cold executive, seals the deal.


3. Hot Fuzz: I would humbly suggest that each one of the millions of people who spent their hard-earned money to make Meet the Spartans the highest grossing film of the weekend it debuted go rent Hot Fuzz on DVD and discover how a master spoofs Hollywood. Director Edgar Wright crafts a detailed satire of self-important Bruckheimer-esque action films while also paying tribute to the simple pleasures those kinds of films provide. The script also takes the time to develop the two lead characters to great effect. As a buddy-cop team, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost put Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker to shame. This was the most purely hilarious fun I had at the movies all year.


2. Juno: Picture a young woman who doesn’t neatly fall into any stereotype. Easy, right? Well, not in the movies. Writer Diablo Cody (with director Jason Reitman) has given birth (no pun intended) to a character who may one day be looked back on as the voice of a generation. There hasn’t yet been a film that so nails the sardonic sensibilities of the new century’s youth culture. The examples of this are both obvious (Juno’s opening joke about her mother’s abandonment) and subtle (As she declares her love for her baby’s father near the end, her voice unexpectedly rises as if she’s asking a question…the implication being that she fears a possible backlash from a teen society that mocks any examples of real feeling). The fact that the film refuses to cater to other stereotypes helps as well: a caring stepmother, a cool-headed father. This instant classic’s near-guaranteed win for Best Original Screenplay at this year’s Oscars will be one of the most deserving of the night.


1. The King of Kong: Without a hint of condescension, director Seth Gordon turns his camera on the sub-culture of video-gaming enthusiasts dedicated to scoring new high scores on the early classics. Specifically, we get the story of the battle between Billy Mitchell, who has held the record in “Donkey Kong” for decades, and the humble Steve Wiebe, a quiet genius looking for some recognition to highlight his otherwise normal life. The documentary profiles a cast of characters as endearing and eccentric as any fiction comedy, and it’s one of those great examples where life resembles an underdog sports story. Hilarious and gripping, The King of Kong finds art in one of the most unlikely places possible.

The Monster's not under your bed...he's in the White House

Ned Lamont told me I should blog more. So I'm gonna try. I'll talk more about that later, but there's gonna be some new stuff here soon, different that what my few readers are used to. For now, enjoy this rumination on the horror genre:

As October rolls around, I see more and more Halloween shops breaking out
the traditional skulls and capes to take advantage of the season. I enjoy
walking around those shops, playing with the theater masks and laughing at
the dog costumes on sale. I'm also a sucker for plastic toy weapons like
swords and spears, and often can't resist the temptation to take one out of
the bin and try it out in a spot where there aren't too many shoppers.

However, being a movie buff, I also wonder what sort of horror movies are
going to debut this month. So far, Saw IV is set to open right before
Halloween, the latest in a persistent strain of torture-themed films that
often top the box office but also have steadily received derision and scorn
from critics and pundits.

Some of this criticism is a bit disingenuous. After all, many of these
pundits lavished praise on The Passion of the Christ, even though I think
that gorefest could easily be re-released as "Saw 0: In the Beginning."
Still, I too am often put off by the torture films. Even in an aesthetic
sense, they often fail to do justice to their genre. Audiences squirm at the
gore, but there's nothing to really linger in your memory as you try to go
to sleep that night. Being revolted is not the same thing as being scared.

Still, it's a mistake to simply dismiss them as unworthy of some
examination. My own interest in horror movies over the years stems from
their ability to show what people are really afraid of, or were afraid of at
the time of their release. This applies to horror-themed literature as well.
Consider Dracula and other vampires. Conceived at a time when European
empires still held a great deal of power, Dracula was a foreign creature who
was able to make others in his image, a creature who could, if left
unchecked, turn an entire nation into vampires. In short, the colonizers
would become colonized. Vampire stories of that era showcase nations
insecure as to how long they would hold their grip on other parts of the
world.

Over in Japan, Godzilla, a monster created by atomic experimentation, was
the brainchild of a nation still traumatized after being struck with two
A-bombs. The clash of culture that defines the 1960s (often emblemized by
Time Magazine's infamous "Is God Dead?" cover) gave rise to a series of
films dealing with the unholy and the Satanic. Rosemary's Baby, The
Exorcist, The Omen. If people really were turning away from God, who knows
what evil might be able to take hold of society? These fears did not take
long to find their way onto the silver screen. In the 1980s, fear of AIDS
and other STDs spreading among youth created the "slasher" genre, in which
teen promiscuity brought down cosmic retribution from the likes of Freddy
Krueger and Jason.

So what can be deduce from the popularity of the Saw and Hostel films?
Unfortunately, it means torture is very much on America's mind. The grimy
settings of these films are eerily reminiscent of the Abu Ghraib photos, the
first major incident that revealed the dark underside of our current foreign
policy. The damage the Bush administration has done to the civil liberties
of Americans in the six years since 9/11 is substantial. They push for
torture, they have shut down habeas corpus, and they push for warrantless
wiretapping (and don't even try to convince me that following the laws would
somehow allow terrorists to communicate undetected. The existing FISA court
rules allow intelligence personnel to tap someone's line for up to 72 hours
before they need to get the warrant, allowing for any sort of emergency
situation to be taken care of without having to deal with paperwork right
away. I could write a whole other column about how that issue is always
purposefully misrepresented).

Thanks to all this, there's nothing to stop the Bush White House from
declaring you an "enemy combatant," throwing you into a black van, and
flying you off to some secret torture chamber in Eastern Europe. No warrant
needed, no access to a lawyer, and no means to challenge your own
imprisonment. That's scary. A lot scarier than Saw.

If It Bleeds.....I Don't Like It.

After a slow first couple of days, this week at work has become shockingly...and depressingly, violent.

Last night, some lunatic shot two people outside of a hotel in Southington apparently without any provocation. Then he shot himself. That's pretty upsetting, but it wouldn't have been as bad if it hadn't just come after the Cheshire murders.

Twenty minutes down the road from where I work, two guys broke into a home, killed a mother and two kids, and burnt the place to the ground. You would think we had stepped back into the Dark Ages. Something like that extends far beyond the community in which it happens. The mother was also a nurse at a prestigious private school in Cheshire which had several students in Southington. This gave me the agonizing task of talking to these kids who are still shell-shocked and trying to hold back tears.

The story I come up will be more about the fond memories these people had than about the gory details of the incident, but I learned vividly that other papers went about it very differently. The Hartford Courant is essentially the paper of record for our state, but their coverage utterly disgusted me. The writers delved into nauseating, unncessary detail and the whole thing reeked of sick sensationalism.

I seriously considered quitting this profession when I read those stories....but that said just as much about me as it did the Courant.

I've discovered that I prefer to write about good news...and of course, politics (I'll have a lot of fun with the local elections this year). I'm not the type of journalist who salivates at the thought of a grisly story breaking. It's the opposite really, I tend to get full of dread when I realize I have to cover something like that.

Guess I'll never work at the New York Post.

Transformers

Many of my peers would probably avoid trying to place Michael Bay's update of the classic 80s cartoon Transformers in any kind of scholarly context, but I'm not always known for toeing the film critic party lines. In a sea of massive blockbusters, this one stands out as one that will be discussed in future years when the history of big-budget spectacle is revisited.

In terms of special effects, it's on par with the original Jurassic Park in terms of sheer grandeur. This is some of the finest CGI ever put on film. The movie also seems to highlight the disconnect between professional film critics and more casual movie buffs, a divide growing ever more pronounced and visible thanks to the internet…but more on that later.

Michael Bay may be an action maestro (the last 45 minutes of the movie is a protracted and massive brawl), but he's no Steven Spielberg. This is evident from the opening scene, in which a suspicious helicopter lands at a U.S. military base in the Middle East and proceeds to turn into a giant robot and destroy everything in sight. This is the first glimpse of a Transformer and I really hoped the sequence would be filled with awe. Unfortunately, Bay doesn't seem to have time for that. There's a lot of stuff around that needs to be blown up.

After that, we meet the high-strung young hero, Sam Witwicky (the charismatic Shia LeBeouf), an all-American lad about to get his first car. The beat up Camaro he drives home from the dealers turns out to be a Transformer itself, and Sam gets drawn into a galactic conflict of epic proportions. Set on destroying the Earth are the evil Deceptions, who turn into fearsome machines like tanks and fighter jets. Pitted against them are the autobots, which turn into more benevolent vehicles.

The Autobots are led by Optimus Prime, who is voiced by the tremendous Peter Cullen, who has been playing the character since the 80s. Recruiting him is the movie's ace in the hole; nobody else is qualified to play Prime and it's refreshing that the studio had enough sense to realize that. Cullen's distinctive characterization of the robot, both intimidating and full of warmth, is even more appreciated in such a sleek production. Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, is voiced by Hugo Weaving, so everyone start your Matrix jokes. ("You lead two lives, Mr. Prime. In one life, you are a mack truck….")

I've read interviews with the producers who describe Transformers as really just the story of "a boy and his car." Sounds nice, but I'm not sure I buy it. Not when that plotline is just one of numerous subplots contributing to the film's bulky running time. There's the British NSA agent (Rachel Taylor) and her goofy hacker friend (Anthony Anderson, going through his usual "loud doofus" motions), Pentagon officials screaming at each other, Agent Simmons (John Turturro) of "Sector 7," on-hand to offer some fun twists about the movie's backstory, and a small squad of U.S. soldiers (led by Josh Duhamel and Tyrese Gibson) who thought dealing with Iraqi insurgents was going to be the scariest thing they did out in the Middle East.

You get the feeling some of this fat on the script by Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman could have been trimmed, but at least the soldier subplot offers one of the movie's most thrilling battle sequences: a stunning clash between a small division of the military and a scorpion-like transformer amidst crumbling ruins in the desert.

What you make of all this depends greatly on expectations. Contrary to popular belief, only the most uptight critics are immune to simple pleasures. The movie is a heaping helping of fun. The action and effects are tremendous, and it's often very funny. However, there's plenty to pick apart as well. The script is messy and bogged down with subplots, there isn't quite enough pure wonder to go around, and character exposition is often incredibly forced.

The almost inevitable response to that is something to the effect of "Who cares? Stuff blows up!" The invective-filled internet communities filled with those who seem to look at a movie as nothing more than a two-hour distraction will point to the high grosses of critically eviscerated films like Norbit and Wild Hogs as evidence that film criticism is obsolete. Critics often react with the knee-jerk response that the success of those films only proves that American are all idiots, but that only plays into their hands.

I propose a compromise. I do recommend Transformers for those looking for a blast of old-fashioned movie-magic and fun. If we could appreciate that in itself without running around calling every new blockbuster the "best movie ever," I think we'll all get along better.

Sicko

A few years ago, a woman told President Bush during a public hearing that she had to work three jobs to sustain her family. Bush smiled and replied, "Uniquely American, isn't it?" Maybe it is...but that's not something to be proud of.

That's one of only a few clips of Bush that appears in Sicko, his new documentary which has a much tighter focus than his last few films. He's taking on the health care system here in America, the costs and restrictions of which take a heavy toll on millions of Americans like that woman working three jobs.

Moore has already criticized Bush extensively (and before it was trendy, no less), and this time he lays the blame on just about everyone currently in Washington. He flashes back to the 90s, when Republicans and the Health Care lobby dismantled Hillary Clinton's proposal for Universal Health Care, and then turns around and blasts Hillary for the disgusting amount of contributions she has received from the same lobby in the years since.

However, the focus of Sicko is not really on polticians at all, but on average American folk. The opening minutes chronicle the struggles of a few people without any health insurance, like the man who lost two fingers but could only afford to get one replaced. Yet most of the stories come from people who do have health insurance and still can't get any treatment because the industry is entirely committed to making money instead of, you know, helping anyone.

There's the woman who drove into Canada because her insurance company refused to cover treatment for her cervical cancer. The widow of a man who was denied a bone-marrow transplant until it was too late. The old couple who lost their house to massive medical bills and had to move into their daughter's storage room. Moore wisely stays behind the camera during these sequences, only providing his signature sarcastic narration. In fact, he doesn't appear on screen until about 45 minutes in, when he's interviewing his own aunt and uncle.

The second half of the movie drags and is less strong. Moore goes to Canada and a few European countries and shows off their socalized health-care systems. It's not hard to make the point that most of the Western World has better health care than us, yet this section goes on for almost an hour. It's also hard to swallow that a world-famous filmmaker like him can still try and pass of the image of himself as a wandering, salt-of-the-earth John Q. Public.

The final sequence, in which Moore takes 9/11 rescue workers to Cuba for medical treatment because they couldn't afford it in the USA, has already drawn considerable controversy. It's vintage Moore, which both helps and hurts. His showboating is often hilarious, but it also gives his critics ammunition. They tend to be selective in their attacks, and will no doubt dissect the admittedly fairy-tale quality of this whole segment.

They won't talk about the testimonials, however. What can anyone even say? It's the power of these stories alone that makes Sicko one of the finest films released this year so far. The movie has come at the right time, when a looming presidential election is getting candidates to discuss what they would do to help those manhandled by the current health care system. Most politicians propose adding a few band-aids to try and fix the current one, but Moore is advocating the socialized system of the other countires he visited. It's quite audacious, given that there's still a scary and disproportinate fear of socialism left over from the McCarthy era. Maybe that's the solution, and maybe it isn't. I'll venture this, however: Nobody can walk away from Sicko and think that the system is just fine the way it is.

Mitt Romney's Dog Problem, Evil Ann Coulter, and a Summer Movie Gem

I haven't been following politics for all that long, but this is the wierdest little story I've ever seen masquerade as political news:

The reporter intended the anecdote that opened part four of the Boston Globe's profile of Mitt Romney to illustrate, as the story said, "emotion-free crisis management": Father deals with minor -- but gross -- incident during a 1983 family vacation, and saves the day. But the details of the event are more than unseemly -- they may, in fact, be illegal.

The incident: dog excrement found on the roof and windows of the Romney station wagon. How it got there: Romney strapped a dog carrier -- with the family dog Seamus, an Irish Setter, in it -- to the roof of the family station wagon for a twelve hour drive from Boston to Ontario, which the family apparently completed, despite Seamus's rather visceral protest.

Yep, they strapped the dog to the roof and he crapped himself. Anyone who has been reading this knows Mitt Romney annoys the hell out of me, but I will feel genuine sympathy (amidst my own howling laughter) if the poor sap winds up having to answer a question about this during a debate because of all this coverage.

What really cracks me up about this, though, is that picture, which I saw on the Huffington Post. The split-photo gimmick usually implies an adverserial relationship. It's used for things like Harry Reid vs. President Bush, Tom Cruise vs. Brooke Shields, Rosie O'Donnell vs. Other Obnoxious Blonde Chick with Squeaky Voice on "The View."

Here it's Mitt Romney vs. The Dog. Not his actual dog, of course, which makes it funnier. You can type in "Irish Settle" in Google Images and find that same photo. Probably only took 10 seconds in photoshop to produce that...but the laughs are priceless.



Now to switch gears into something that is decidedly not funny. Ann Coulter is making the rounds again....and again I'm perplexed that she can get away with breathtakingly bigoted and hateful comments; comments far worse than the ones that destroyed Don Imus, for example.

She was on Fox News talking about a speech by Barack Obama in Hartford last weekend. At that event (which I attended), Obama said that the right-wing had "hijacked" religion...specifically Christianity. This was the rare instance where I would have preferred to listen to someone like Pat Robertson. He probably would have at least tried to aruge Obama's actual point. Here's Coulter's thoughtful response:

"I do think anyone named B. Hussein Obama should avoid using ‘hijack’ and ‘religion’ in the same sentence.”

Get it? Cause Obama's actually a Islamist terrorist cause his middle name is Hussein? Remember King Hussein of Jordan? Everyone loved him...but that's beside the point. Is this the insightful analysis we're going to see on the news these days?

What's really obnoxious about Coulter, and why I use the word "evil" to describe her, is that I'm not even sure she means this crap. O'Reilly does...and though he's an idiot, he can be ironically charismatic in a cartoon supervillain sort of way. Even Sean Hannity seems to at least believe his own bullshit, which strikes me as a little more respectable than just saying whatever bilge will sell books to those who need their prejudices reaffirmed in print.

I mean, why else would you call John Edwards a "faggot?" Or say that the death of his son is "a bumper sticker?" Now she's on Fox responding to Obama's comments on religion? You expect me to believe she's actually a representative from the Christian Right? If she supports them, it's only because it meets expectations of the "typical" right-winger. She's the kind of person who will rail against depictions of drug use in the media and then go home and snort some cocaine.

I'm usually reluctant to use the word "evil" to describe someone. When talking about bloggers in my book about the CT Senate Race, I take a moment to criticize those who referred to Joe Lieberman as evil. Obnoxious? Sure. Totally self-centered? You better believe it. But not evil. Ann Coulter believes in nothing but herself, and has made a fortune by exploiting the worst ignorance in American society. That is evil.



To try and end this mish-mash on a positive note, I'll say that anyone looking for a randomly terrific movie in the middle of an uneven summer should check out 1408. To say too much about the plot would spoil a lot of the fun, but anyone who has seen commercials knows it's about a haunted hotel room. I'll just say quickly that the movie has a tremendous build-up to the fateful night in the haunted room, and it meets those high expectations. Really awesome horror film that's actually scary at points. More movies like this might get us out of the already played out torture movement dominating the genre right now.

Coming Soon: Reviews of Michael Moore's Sicko and Pixar's Ratatouille

No Place is Safe

So I'm pumping gas this morning and I see a strange little speaker mounted onto the front of the pump station I'm at. As I pull on the lever to start the flow of gas, a loud voice suddenly comes over it. It didn't take me long to realize that this was an advertisement. I got annoyed and looked at the speaker to see if there was a way I could turn it off. I saw a Mute button and thought to myself, "That's a nice courtesy at least." I pressed it....it didn't work.

At this point, I got really mad. I began to repeatedly shout "Shut up!" at the speaker, unwittingly sounding like Bill O'Reilly whenever he's losing an argument. As other drivers gave me strange looks, I finally opted to press my hand over the speaker itself, effectively drowning out all the sound. When my hand stopped vibrating, I knew I had won. The ad was over, and I had not retained any of it.

I stopped to wonder why this had pissed me off so much. There's a simple reason and a broader reason. The simple reason is that normally pumping gas is a quiet experience. If you're alone, it allows for a few minutes of relaxed thought. When you're already dropping 40 frickin' dollars to fill up the gas tank of a little Cavalier that once only required 20-25, the last thing you want is for a loud annoyance invading what little personal space we have left in our lives.

And that leads into my larger point: Throughout my twenty-three and a half years of life, I've seen advertising becoming more and more invasive. It used to be that commericals were the price you paid for watching TV or listening to the radio. These sponsors paid for the programming, and so you have to hear their two cents. That's at least fair. Now it's almost the reverse: ads are shoving their way into entertainment that we pay for. A $10 movie ticket now means you have to sit through fifteen minutes of commericals. The internet service you pay for every month is now constantly interrupted by insipid ads popping up in your face....and apparently, you can't even pump gas without having something pitched at you.

Several months ago, Matt and I put on a DVD of Full Metal Alchemist episodes during a lazy afternoon at my house. There were previews at the beginning of the DVD, so my finger went for the "Menu" button. Didn't work this time. Neither did the button that skips to the next scene. Not even the damn fast-forward button was working. The same "This operation is not currently permitted by disc" or whatever that message is kept popping up. We were essentially being forced to watch this commerical.

I wouldn't stand for it. I muted the TV and stared at the ceiling for several minutes until I knew it was over. I won't have my arm twisted into watching/hearing more corporate bullshit when I paid for entertainment....and the next time that speaker starts going while I'm pumping gas, I won't shout at it, but I will again firmly place my hand over it.

I hope others do the same.