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After a couple of days of late nights at work, I finally got home at a reasonable hour and decided not to spend the time watching the news. Mostly because it reminds me that when I’m 65, my kids will ask me where I was when Obama was inaugurated, and I will tell them, “On the toilet, because I really had to finish drafting those tax certification forms, and once I was done, I couldn’t wait. Shouldn’t have put all those raisins in my oatmeal.”

Here’s what I’ve learned watching basketball and mildly surfing the internet:

1. Paul Blart: Mall Cop is the number one movie in America. I don’t regard that as some sign of the apocalypse or anything, I actually thought it didn’t look bad…as a rental. Look America, I know it was cold out, but do you think Kevin James is really an A-list movie star? Because that’s what you just made him.

2. I’ve seen none of the Oscar-nominated movies. Looks like I have to get on that if I am going to anger moviegoers with contrarian blog postings. I still get the occasionally shitty email for my reaction to “There Will Be Blood.” Although I’ll say this right now: No “Benjamin Button”. I saw “Meet Joe Black” in the theater many moons ago, and Brad Pitt, “three hour movie”, and me will never go together again.

3. If you like basketball, and you think Charles Barkley can’t be replaced, check out the comedy stylings of Chris Webber and Gary Payton on TNT while they sub for him.  Here’s a look at their little-seen NBA TV work:

We may have just found the new Wayans Brothers.

4. Jim Beam has a series of ads that are kind of jaw-droppingly sexist, basically, they represent the worst of male fantasies and thoughts, and proudly associates Jim Beam with them. In the one I saw tonight, a scantily clad, hot woman speaks of how she likes slightly fat men with back hair who go to strip clubs. It then says “the girlfriend”, and Jim Beam is “the bourbon”. Yeah, okay. You gotta be drinking a bottle of Jim Beam to think that’s going to happen. When I think sexy girls, I think Jim Beam, that’s what they drink. Yeah, sure.

What’s even worse is they’re trying to mask it as “ironic” by having a video contest where you make fun of these plodding, pathetic, and obvious ads.  So you can make fun of how impossibly sexist they are. Because you know it’s not true, right? Way not to man up, Jim Beam.

The ad campaign that is now bombarding me when I trudge through the Union Square station on my morning commute is the one pimping the film   Notorious”, about the life and times of the rapper  Notorious B.I.G. It opens January 16th.

 

 Half-awake as I made my way through the station, I thought to myself, doesn’t the word “history” mean anything anymore? I mean, somebody’s dead five minutes and they’re making biographical epics? Honestly? Okay, at least this guy is actually dead, unlike George W. Bush, but still, can we get a little perspective on the timeline before we take someone’s life story to the big screen?

 

Then I realized that he died almost 12 years ago.

 

That’s probably more of a testament to my being old and forgetful than a lack of perspective on my part. Still, it was stunning. Twelve years! Earlier this year, I admitted that I wasn’t quite ready for ‘90s nostalgia with the release of The Wackness”, a movie about a guy coming of age in Giuliani’s New York. I guess with the arrival of this movie, it’s here and it’s never going back. Besides, I’m sure the public has been clamoring for an on-screen remembrance of Biggie.

 

What better time for it than before Martin Luther King Day weekend, and the one right before America’s historic inauguration? The only way it could get better is if there was a re-release of “Juice” in theaters. Now that would be a double bill!

 

Not sure if I’ll see it. While biopics can be very predictable, and it’s generally hard to bring anything new to the format, they can be successful if well-done. I saw “Milk” and thought it was very well-done and compelling, so why not the story of BIG? After all, they both end the same way, and half the fun will be in hearing some moron audibly gasp in surprise when it happens. (Slight difference: I would expect far, far, less man-on-man action.)

 

I think once upon a time I might have railed about this movie, But I guess enough time has passed and he’s still an important figure in the hip-hop community. I just hope it brings a little more to the table than just re-enacting scenes from his life; it needs to either give us a sense of the man or the movement. Anybody can re-enact the studio session where he recorded, “Ready to Die”, what needs to be done is to convey they moment, the urgency, and the thought and creative process that leads to a hip-hop classic. What made him unique, what was his vision, if he had one? Or was it a lack of that same vision that led to a beef that ultimately ended his life? This movie has to do more than make you go “Man, it was nice to hear Hypnotize again.” It has to make you understand or interpret the person in a new and different way, enhance your understanding and your appreciation of the artist as a person.

 

I guess I’ll see it if I’m assured I’m getting more than just a really hot soundtrack. It would be nice not to recoil this time from my ever-more distant youth and begin to be able to enjoy a little hip-hop history lesson, mixed with some nostalgia.

 

I’m not going to lie, I am not expecting that.

 

In the meantime, since there’s no biopic for Tupac anytime soon, I’m just going to have to work the following phrase into my vernacular more often in remembrance: “It’s all fun and games until you go to the MGM Grand to watch a Mike Tyson fight.”

 

What? I haven’t even pointed out that I am amazed they managed to find another human being that has fat on his eyelids to play Biggie. Or that the guy’s rap name is “Gravy.”

 

Sometimes, the jokes write themselves…

Vote John McCain. Obama doesn't even watch "24", and therefore is not serious about terrorism.

Today we turn to what was once considered an insane idea in 1986 but has now become a cultural institution today. That’s right, I speak of the Fox network. Now soon to be 22 years old, It’s is no longer considered the ‘fourth network’. Sure, some people thought Rupert Murdoch was out of his mind. Well, those people didn’t understand the plan: Absorb years years of losses, exploit the underserved minority viewing population, overpay for football, then put on a glorified karaoke show and…voila! You’re a major network.

So, what is Fox offering us this season that’s caught this jaded blogger’s eye? Will, its easily most hyped new show is “Fringe“, a new show from J.J. Abrams (and some other dudes in smaller print) about three people looking strangely and fascinatedly into a toilet. Well, that’s what its subway ads make you think, anyway. I guess there’ll be scary monsters and storylines and strange creatures and intense scenes. It basically looks like the” X-Files” meets “Lost”. Fox insisted on starting early, so I could have actually reviewed this show, which now has two episodes under its belt. I chose not to.

Also new from Fox: not much else. With their lineup pretty much set, consisting of steady performers like “Prison Break”, “24”, “Bones”, and “Family Guy”, there were only two other newcomers that garnered my attention:

The first is “Hole In The Wall”, a form of Human Tetris, I guess, where teams contort themselves into cut-out holes. This is going to perfect for people who really miss “Wipeout”, which had its season finale the other day. This show is probably good for the whole family as well, and provides a perfect opportunity to for a chance to make glory hole jokes. Fun for everyone!

Also on the docket: “Do Not Disturb“, a sitcom about a cheesy hotel owner played by Jerry O’Connell. You can tell Fox must love its chances based on the hard work they’ve put into the website. (None, if you don’t bother to click on. Come on, is this any way to treat the bastard stepchild of Fawlty Towers?)

But what I’m really looking forward to is my favorite Fox show every year. No, not the still-amusing-but-clearly-past-it’s-prime “The Simpsons”. I’m talking about “Horrifying Reality Show Pulled Out of Fox’s Ass To Be Named Later.” Every year, Fox has a few cancellations, and faster than you can say, “That can’t be a real show!” they pull a “Temptation Island” or “Moment of Truth” out from the Fox Reality dungeon. THey can do this because if the show’s not successful, they can just dump it on the Fox Reality Channel, where classics such as “My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss” live on. I look forward to this year’s. I’m going to predict something involving cheating spouses. Maybe a show where they move the illicit lover into the house! You know it’ll be good. And by good, I mean “slightly better than ‘Prison Break’.”

So, are they back in the jail again, by the way? They seem good at getting out of prison, but bad at staying out of it, apparently.

Katie who?

Katie who?

Well, since I’ve previewed the other two networks, decorum dictates that I devote a day to everyone, so tomorrow will be Fox, and Thursday will be devoted to the CW, where I’ll probably just re-post my rant about the advertising on Teens Doin’ It!, um, er, “Gossip Girl.”

Anyway, the three TV shows CBS seems to be heavily pimping for the fall are “The Mentalist”, “Gary Unmarried” and “The Ex-List”. And by heavily pimping, I really mean, “There’s no way CBS thinks these shows have a real chance.”

The Mentalist” stars Simon Baker as a guy with really sharp powers of observation who solves crimes.

Yawn. This show appears to be “Psych” but without the humor, the put-upon black costar, and Corbin Bernsen. In case you’ve never seen “Psych”, the lead character uses keen observational skills as well, but he plays it for laughs. There appears to be pretty much no difference between these shows except one is on broadcast television.

Let’s move on to “The Ex-List“, a show where a lonely single girl finds out from a psychic that she has already met her soul mate, and if she doesn’t reconnect with him in a year, she will die alone. So she lists every guy she ever hooked up with, befriended, or dated, and goes back to seek them to see if they are indeed The One.

First of all, this show just screams “cancel my ass!” Why give her one year? And what if the show’s a hit, how can you continue to sustain it if you have a finite list? Second of all, how dumb is this woman to believe this psychic? If this person is your soul mate, how the fuck can you put a clock on it? How come they didn’t connect the first time? If they’re a random person you ran into, wouldn’t you just run into them again at a more cosmically opportune time?

Third, shouldn’t you automatically sue this psychic for malpractice when this woman inevitably goes back to the abusive, coke-and-porn addicted, egomaniacal asshole who she just couldn’t give up and it took four breakups and a restraining order for her to finally see the light? You know he’s out there, but somehow they’ll skip that episode.

Besides, this show is slated for Friday nights, meaning it’s aimed at married women who can feel superior and go “Thank my lucky stars I’m not single and trolling the streets for ass tonight.” I don’t give it much of a chance. 

Finally, we have perennial comic underachiever Jay Mohr in the sitcom “Gary Unmarried“, about a newly divorced dude who has to juggle a new ex-girlfriend, two kids, and an ex-wife, who also has a fiance. Blah.

The single dad embarking on the world of dating is comedy gold! Why give him a steady girlfriend right out of the box, that makes no sense. I mean, I understand some dudes are strictly long-term relationship one woman guys, but that just makes this an extended family sitcom.

The spice of the single-parent sitcom is that that they characters get to be loving, doting, responsible parents who also get to juggle the issues that come along with trying to laid. It’s the reason “Two and a Half Men” is such an inexplicable massive hit. Yeah, Charlie sheen my be “acting” like a womanizing douche, but you see the interaction with the kid, and then you think, sure, he can’t form a true emotional bond with a woman, but he can be close and caring with people in other ways. When he’s not screwing over some lady he picked up at bar the night before. So the audience has it’s dirty fantasy cake (“yeah, dirty bachelor, you go!”) and eat it with responsibility while looking to the future (“aw, he just taught the kid a valuable lesson about not quitting!”)

Kids humanize the womanizer/man-whore. You take that element away in “Gary Unmarried” and you just have a show about a perpetually annoyed guy. I don’t give this one much of a chance either, unless they retool the show by dumping the girlfriend and creating a storyline where he has to hide his newfound dabbling in fetish parties from his ex-wife and kids.

We need hope! Bob Hope!

We need hope! Bob Hope!

NBC is just not what it used to be. After ruling the ’80s and ’90s with “The A-Team“, “The Cosby Show“, “Cheers”, and “Seinfeld”, the decent showing of “The Office” is what passes for good news in the entertainment division. Jay Leno, Conan O’Brien, the “Today” show and the Olympics pretty much seem to be propping up the whole damn network.

But while watching “Football Night In America”, I saw a couple of promos for the fall season that caught my eye.

First, they brought back “Chuck“. People must really be tuning in to see if the goofy nerdy guy ever really does get with the hot chick. While saving the world, of course. I never watched this show, and, ironically, the hot girl is what held me back. The premise, a nice little play on “knowledge is power”, would have been fine on its own. But nooo, they had to throw in a hot girl that the guy pines for. I personally have never benn a fan of these storylines, especially on a TV series. It’s just tiresome. How about getting him a looks-appropriate love interest? Ok, like TV ugly, but still. Instead of Chuck constantly eyeballing a chick he can’t have every stinking week slowing the show down, how about he have a bookish girl who understands him or something? At least it would be differerent. And I emphasize, she’d be “TV ugly”.

Then, there’s the new Knight Rider. Whee. But why do they call it “Knight Rider: The Series”? Last I checked, there wasn’t a Knight Rider movie, unless it went in and out of theaters with Eric Bana as Michael Knight, Hugh Grant as the voice of KITT, Sir Ian McKellen or Alec Baldwin as the old dude who was Michael’s boss from FLAG (I believe that’s the Foundation For Law and Government, but we don’t do so much fact-checking here), and Hot Brunet of the Moment as KITT’s mechanic, who of course flirts with Michael, but is having trouble competing with the bad guy’s girlfriend played by Hot Blond of the Moment, played by Middle-Aged Slumming British Actor. So, once again, why do they have to remind us that it’s “The Series?” What’s next, “Manimal: The series?”

But the most glorious moment of all came when my buddy Adam K dropped his serious conversation about music with my roommate Diddy to exclaim, “Christian Slater has a series?!” Yep yep! Christian Slater stars in “My Own Worst Enemy“. Or as I like to call it, “True Lies: The Series” (see, that makes sense). He apparently plays a normal, Jack Nicholson-imitating family dude who has a double life as a guy who spies and carries big-ass guns. I’m sure he also steals secrets, protects us from the terrorists, and as any successful operative must, flirt with evil skanks who can’t see past the cash they’re getting for a new Prada bag to the fact that they are helping to destroy our way of life. But of course Christian can’t sleep with them, he’s a happily married man. To a woman that’s probably “TV average housewife” hot. Slater hasn’t made the streets this safe since “Kuffs”, y’all.

It seems like NBC is squarely aiming at expanding the young male demographic they seem to be pulling in from “Heroes”…if those same viewers suddenly suffered an inexplicable brain injury. NBC is clearly targeting males with these hour long action dramas. I’m not positive as to why they’re trying to become Spike TV, but hey. they gotta do something, right? Let’s see how this develops.

Oh yeah, and by the way, take a good look at this post, Sarah Palin fans…this is sexist media coverage. Especially take note of the casual objectification and reduction. You know what’s not sexist? Dead-on impersonations by Tina Fey.

That’s what they need to call this “Gossip Girl” show, judging from the ads. I cop to totally knowing nothing about the show, its origins, it’s stars, and its purpose. I do know it’s on the CW. (their motto: “We will try just about f***in’ anything.”)

But the ads make it seem like the whole show is pretty much about young, beautiful people doing the nasty. Somehow they revolve a plot around it, because let’s face it, you can’t bone and not have drama. I suspect episodes revolve around who hit it with who and when and what time and what acts were performed. Who boned and thought a relationship was underway, only to find out that the guy they thought they were making love to was getting busy in a horse-drawn carriage the next night. With her best friend, which is female code for arch-rival, of course.

All this is fine, after all, sex has been a staple of the primetime soap opera for years. But at least there used to appear to be some storylines that didn’t involve boning. I believe Dallas and Dynasty were set in the oil industry. It was like, yeah, people were boning, but that was for the express purpose of getting control of the oil. Like the episode where J.R. Ewing gave Dick Cheney a reacharound. Very controversial. But germane to the storyline. (Okay, that didn’t happen.)

But there’s no oil or gold or bread or ant farms or gossip or any other commodity at stake, it appears with this show. It’s not about the trials and tribualtions of class structure and cliquishness among well-to-do, affluent teenagers. Then again, maybe it is. Point is, I wouldn’t know from the ads. Maybe it’s even a show about the trials and tribualtions of class structure and cliquishness among well-to-do, affluent teenagers…who bone at every opportunity.

I guess there’s nothing wrong with that if that’s what the show’s about. But if I ever tune in and detect some semblance of a plot, or see a storyline that is not boning-related, then this show will have done the drooling 40-something “To Catch A Predator” crowd these ads are aimed at a cruel injustice. So it’ll be back to the porn, Viagra and MySpace for them. So sad.

But somehow I doubt it. I’m sure this ad campaign completely reflects the true nature of the show. I won’t watch, but I trust that the season premiere, “Wrong Hole”, will have all the twists and turns I expect (if you know what I mean), and at most ten to twenty lines of dialogue. Mostly about teabagging, hopefully. I’m trusting you, American Bonefest, er Gossip GIrl. Don’t let America, and by America, I mean “assholes who think they’re too good for porn”, down.

It’s been a while, but I haven’t forgotten you, my readers. I am carelessly neglecting you, as I’ve said before. I used a vacation day to create a three day weekend for myself, so I thought I would get you guys caught up:

  • Here’s how it works, people. You go up to the counter. You order the tacos. They call your name. You pick up the tacos, and then you eat the tacos. Simple enough, no? You’d be surprised at what shots of Jagermeister can do to make that process not go smoothly.
  • Went to PS 1 this weekend, and some guy’s idea of art was to show video some fat dude boxing with a topless woman. I guess I should be happy the fat guy wasn’t topless, but, really. Because you open said video installation with some observation about how it could be about your father but it’s really about your mother, it’s art? As opposed to, say a “documentary” called “Big Titty Fight Club?”
  • At this point, if you give out huge-ass, two-foot long straws with your drink, (I forget what Rusty Knot officially called it, but it was essentially a soup tureen full of of ‘zombies’), then you can’t complain about the fifteen minutes of “I drink your milkshake!” jokes that will inevitably follow.
  • You know, the party doesn’t officially start till the sloppy drunk blond albino girl falls all over your friend, who is scared half to death. Then she hits on him, and the fun really begins.
  • Ardbeg Scotch: If you like your scotch to taste like old cigars strained through through sweat socks, this is your drink. They were giving it away and the bartender was stunned when I asked for another. Not for the faint of heart.
  • A solemn but hopeful goodbye to Mickie, my favorite late-night bartender at San Loco. You’ll be missed, and good luck in Austin!
  • The number of black people we counted at the Sunday night Bruce Springsteen concert I attended at Giants Stadium other than myself and Clarence Clemons (not including concessions, security, ushers, and parking): 4
  • The essential dilemma of the middle-aged rock concert with middle-aged patrons: Sit, or stand? A fight nearly broke out in front of us. Luckily, it happened during “Tunnel of Love”, not necessarily a crowd favorite.
  • For a nearly 60-year old dude, he puts on a top quality, fun, energetic show, especially for his Jersey people. I don’t think I’m saying anything new by saying if you ever have a chance to see him live, do it. But I said it anyway.
  • Props to Max Weinberg, who we swore was gonna have a stroke, he was working so hard.
  • What do you get when you go to White Castle at 1 a.m. on a Sunday? Well, aside from indigestion, the line of the night from a very, uh, let’s say flamboyant gay man to someone who was harassing him and his tranny pal outside: “Oh no! You don’t mess with me! I might walk like Tina, but I fight like Ike!” He later bragged about his boxing trophies. Good times.
  • Cost of seats at Bruce Springsteen concert: $68. Having your white friends from Indiana clown you for engaging in what might possibly be the whitest activity alive, apparently: priceless.
  • “Step Brothers”: If you liked “Anchorman” and “Talledega Nights”, you’ll like this one. It might be the funniest of the three, I laughed pretty consistently, I have to say. And I went in quite worried, to be honest.
  • After the gym and some dinner, I decided to take the one of the movie tickets I gave blood for and see another one rather than sit around the house. After finding out that “Indiana Jones” is indeed long gone from the theaters, I decided to see “Hancock”. Review: I liked the beginning. I liked the ending. But they seemed to belong to two completely different movies. It wasn’t bad, but I think if they had stayed on a more comedic path, they would have had a better chance a  more consistent, classic comedy. In the end, it just ends up being okay. If you want to check out my spoiler-filled musings on the twist and ending it’s on my tumblr.
  • Also on my tumblr, I detail some really bad news about my living situation. And by bad, I mean a comedy filled train wreck that may leave extra cash in my pocket.

So, what’s the overall point of this weekend: 1. I need to take more days off, 2. I’m not going to apologize for liking Bruce Spingsteen, 3. sometimes it takes an albino damsel in distress to divine the line between good and evil, and 4. there’s still time for me to write the truly Great American Alcoholic Superhero Movie.

Some of my friends work in fabulous industries where going to parties all the time isn’t just a perk, it’s part of the job, whether it’s being seen, being the coordinator, or just registering people at the door, parties are par for the course.

Not this kid.

Our company is so cheap, they feel it’s better to put on a summer “staff party” than a traditional holiday party. Right, because they care. Anyway, because the firm had a really, really good year (Hooray for corporate scandal and internal investigations!) us peons got the annual part-tay stepped up.

So the other day found us at Cipriani 23. For those of you who are not quite up on these things, it is the latest crown jewel in the Cipriani empire. The place is pretty nice and swanky, it radiates an air of class straight out of the Gilded Age. In other words, it makes the banquet hall where your cousin had her wedding look like an International House of Pancakes.

 

The food was plentiful and tasty, but impressively light. I mean, I ate constantly and consistently but did not ever get that “Oh God, my intestines just split” feeling that you get at say, Old Country Buffet. The cold seafood buffet was quality. Not a false note, I have to say. One of these days, when I make my millions from self-help book “So You Think You Got Problems?!” (with co-author Garden Salad Joe) and my nightly talk show “This Is What I Got To Say”, I may even have a dinner there.

More importantly (to me, and to your alcoholic heart), nothing says class like a place where you don’t have to ask for top-shelf liquor. That’s right, no Well Whiskey Fridays here, my friend. Gin and tonic meant Bombay Sapphire and Tonic. Automatically. Which is why the probably why the bartenders could barely hide their sneering at mail-room guys who asked for Grey Goose by name. As if they would give you Georgi without telling you. What do you think this, a club?

Well, some guys did think it was a club. On the dance floor, one guy was giving my poor female co-worker the old “I’m going to lean in really close to your ear, pretend to engage you in real conversation, and then bam! I seductively proposition you with something like, ‘You look good in that dress, but I’ll bet you don’t need it!’ or ‘So, you wanna go upstairs to the balcony and do a l’il sumthin’ sumthin’?’ ” I’ve never seen her sprint so fast. Unbelievable.

All in all, it was a great venue and a great setting, and if you’ve got mad cash around, it’s a great place to have a party. Until I write my book, I’ll be continue to get my swank on at the San Loco on North 4th in Williamsburg, where they take care of you too, but you have to request the Goose by name. Someday Cipriani 23 (or its other fabulous locations), we will meet again.

 

 

Bryant and wife (I think)

So I was winding down a long day by reading the Washington Post’s website when I came across this article reviewing the fourth hour of the Today Show. According to reviewer Robin Givhan, the fourth hour of the show seems to be a throwback to the olden days when men worked and women stayed home and took care of the house. Not sure when that was, might have been 1957, coulda been 1987, whatever. Here was the real point for me:

they’re not on at 10 a.m.

There’s a fourth hour of the Today show?!

I guess I could see the reasoning to try and keep the show going as long as possible, the venerable broadcast institution is practically an ATM for NBC Universal. But really, what the hell are you going to put on? Of course there’s nothing but weight-loss crap and extreme makeovers! After four hours, you’re pretty much out of news.

So, instead of creating a brand new NBC morning show called, oh, I dunno, “Crap We Think Women Might Be Interested In Instead of News”, they take the “Today” brand name, shuffle Matt Lauer, Meredith Viera, and Al Roker off to safety and leave Ann Curry to interview women on their “relationship deal-breakers”?

I don’t get this TV business at all sometimes. Why would you dilute your best product and stretch it out beyond belief, when really, in actuality, you’ve just put on an entirely different program? I mean, why not have a second hour of “Meet the Press”, except in the second hour, Tim Russert leaves and Dan Abrams interviews a Hollywood celebrity?

(Using the same Tim Russert interview techniques, of course: “But Mr. Stallone, we’ll put up this graphic. You told GQ in March 1996: ‘I wouldn’t embarrass myself by playing Rocky and Rambo into my 60s.’ What changed your mind, your conspicuous lack of hits over the next ten years, or human growth hormone?”)

Or how about a second hour of “To Catch A Predator”, but we replace Chris Hansen with Keith Olbermann in “To Date a Douchebag”, where they use an actor to play a $10 Bud Select-swilling jackass with a popped collar, who lures some unsuspecting clueless female back to his place. When he leaves the living room for a second to see “if he has any box wine left”, Olbermann busts in and drops some science on the young lady.

Keith: So you really thought, and let me read this right, ‘would you like to come back to my place to see my gooch’ meant that this guy was going to give you a night of quality lovemaking? Honestly. Do you even know what a gooch is? And you were going to sleep with him?”

Clueless female: Uh, no….

Keith: We have you on tape calling in sick for work tomorrow.

Clueless female: Dammit! (runs out of apartment)

Keith: (voiceover) What she doesn’t know is that the girlfriends she abandoned at the club to go home with our ‘chump’ are waiting for her outside the apartment. They are drunk, and boy, are they pissed.

You know, on second thought, if the fourth hour of Today is stuff like this, I think I’d be interested….

Okay, so I do always try to catch one segment of the Academy Awards telecast. The annual “In Memoriam” segment, where they honor those in the film industry who died over the last 12 months. (Or as I like to call it the, “Oh, Snap, They Died?” segment.) All are worthy, and I’m glad these people get their due. Sometimes it’s informative (I didn’t know that Calvin Lockhart had died. I remembered his work, and quite frankly, was shocked.) and it’s just a nice thing to do.

But I have to say this, and I hope I won’t be the only one out there who has the temerity to say it (mostly because no one reads this): How does Heath Ledger go last in the segment over Ingmar Bergman?! I’m not calling it a crime against humanity or anything, but, I mean, while Ledger’s tragedy is fresh in our minds and surely affects many of the people in the audience, Ingmar Bergman accomplished a lot more, I hate to say, than Heath Ledger. I vehemently disagree with this call. Ledger could have gone next to last with a long pause and then Ingmar Bergman should have taken us to the moment of silence.

As you can tell, I feel very strongly about this. Look, recent tragedy is tough to to deal with, but that doesn’t earn you points to leapfrog one of the most important filmmakers ever. Sorry if you’re offended, but I’m just sayin’.