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Well, after reading for months how homophobic, 19th century redneck attitudes of the folks in red-state America were limiting Brokeback’s sales in the heartland, I guess Hollywooders showed themselves to be hypocrites by chickening out on giving the any of the gay shepherds or their movie the Oscar (except Ang Lee for director, which might amount to a ‘career accomplishments’ award).
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Click for deeper and higher resolution insights into Ricci’s technique.
We very very very rarely go to a movie I’d like to see. Most of the time, we go to movies I not only do not particularly want to see, but that offend my sense of decency and decorum until I am as numb and sickened as Ignatius J. Reilly at a Paris Hilton bar opening.
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This is a long post, and I don’t care. I had to get this all down in case I ever forget, I can read this and remember what a great time it is in my life and how good it feels to love someone so much and be so affected by someone who didn’t exist for the first decades of my life, but who has influenced it more since than everyone else who came before put together, and almost everyone who will come after him. I actually started writing it a month or so ago, but Christmas and different things going on in my life made me want to put it up now and finish it. So here it is.
I just started writing and more and more came. Its mostly all true. I don’t know if it will mean anything to anyone else, but its pretty much all that matters to me these days. Everything I do hinges on this single fact: I have a little boy to watch out for now. And I do so with an alarming ease.
I know you moms out there are going to say “Wait until 2 1/2” or “Wait until he’s 3” or whatever, but for the last year I’ve been dealing with a 16-27 month old, and I have got to say, the terrible twos are not that terrible. Or am I just that good? I dunno, you tell me:
I knew there would be music in Tim Burton‘s Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, I just guess I didn’t know there would be that much music, that the music would be rather forgettable and sung by non-singers to boot.
Johnny Depp is great in any role he does (well, other than his Southern accent in The Astronaut’s Wife) but he isn’t much of a singer, and it really impinges upon his acting. You can’t really act when you’re singing, because the phrasing and timing serve the music, not the plot points behind the lyrics.
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…calling themselves scientists scam fed money for their bullshit "studies" and dumbass reporters use it for "funny headlines"
Jawa Report posts about a “humorous” study that supposedly proves showing men photos of blondes makes them stupider, at least in a short term quiz taken right after looking at the pictures of blondes, rather than brunettes or redheads.
I hate these bastard “scientists” so much I hope they fucking die. This is yet another example of a blatant rip-off of grant money used for bullshit studies. I bet these con artists enjoy a good laugh when they cash the check.
Yeah yeah, we’re all supposed to hate on Mel Gibson. Personally, I don’t think its that big a deal, in fact, namecalling and tirades when appropriate are perfectly acceptable. If one of my gay friends is being a douche, I say “hey you little faggot, knock that shit off”, just like Isaiah Washington, and I can’t get fired for it either.
Its been a heady 24 hours, with visions of luscious lipstick lesbians and a mannish presidential candidate who probably wears less make-up than John Edwards, who’s butcher than Joe Biden and bigger testicles than Dennis Kuchinich (that’s not saying much, I realize) but hold your strap-ons ladies, this fantasy is over.
Mister Buzzkill is here to debunk all our sapphic speculations.
Patterico consults a buddy from the LAT, editor Matt Welch, a super-plugged in super-editor who knows all the beautiful people, is privy to all the insider insideness, and he is here to school us all how hysterically wrong everyone yakkin’ about a sex scandal is. Let’s forget for a second that the LAT record on reporting sex scandals is not very good, and see what he has to say:
I didn’t make it to the movies to see Grindhouse. The one night I probably could have gone, my gf wasn’t in the mood to sit through a three-hour schlock-fest.
The fact is, she never is in that mood. And the only time I go to the movies is with my gf. I’m not going to go to a movie alone. I did rook her into going to 300 and she was pretty unhappy.
Anyway, I had to wait until Grindhouse came out on DVD so I could buy the movie at Amazon.
Boohoo. Supposedly the assholes who made a film about Bush being assassinated, then the US falling into a Republican controlled fascist dictatorship claim their lives have been threatened.
Every leftard who receives a nasty email starts crying about having their lives threatened. The Ditsy Chicks milked an entire documentary whinging about how they had received mean mail and bloggers and radio heads had said unkind things about them just because they had claimed America sucks while overseas.
Poor fucking babies:
1st Radio Psychic: (show in progress) So I’m seeing a man with dark features and hair, like you say you have, he’s older than you.
Caller #1: Yes! That must be my father!
1st RP: He’s taller than you. I sense he’s passed away.
Caller #1: Oh yes, oh this is amazing! As I said, he passed away when I was a child.
