Tora! Tora! Tora! Three-score and a year ago the Japanese planes brought forth a day of infamy. But enough about that. (By the way, what does that "Tora" business mean? I just now it as the title of a movie I have yet to see.)

Susannah is possitively stoked about the brief write-up she got on Playboy (cover date: January 2003). At last notice she hadn't read it and it can't be found on-line, so as a public service, here it is:

THE REVERSE COWGIRL'S BLOG

The Reverse Cowgirl's Blog (blogs.salon.com/0001437/) is where I turn for a daily dose of sex-related news, gossip, tidbits and cartoons. Susannah Breslin is one funny freelance sex writer; and her weblog has attracted a large readership. I asked her why she started the blog, and she explained that it gives her the opportunity to report on "things that are too weird, too kooky or too extreme" for her editors. "I wanted it to be edgy and funny and sexy, and not so damn helpful or PC or boring or dumb, like a lot of writing about sex." Oh, and if you're wondering what a "reverse cowgirl" is, you'll just have to look it up on Google, because Breslin isn't telling.
—MARK FRAUENFELDER

Not to pick a nit, but that little entry is illustrated with a photo from Salon's Russ Meyer feature with their logo on top. Makes it look as if the Cowgirl was writing for Salon itself. Playboy should have used the Cowgirl's own brand instead; alas, I guess the design department just pulled something out of their bottoms to meet a deadline.

Another quick fix (which can be found on-line but is buried among the clutter) comes from the New Yorker. For some reason, the poo-bahs who decide which movies get the nod for a full review decided to pass on Adam Sandler's latest.

Eight Crazy Nights? No surprise there, dude!

Not that one, damn it! Maybe I should have said P. T. Anderson's latest.

PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE
Paul Thomas Anderson's whimsical romantic comedy is a bit like an amusement-park ride that builds tremendous forward momentum and then suddenly juts to the side. Even those of us who enjoy perversity in movies may be put off by its skittering, against-the-beat rhythms. Adam Sandler plays Barry Egan, a frightened fellow in a bright-blue suit, a nerd who sells merchandise out of a San Fernando Valley warehouse and stammers his way through the simplest encounters. At dawn, a harmonium is dropped from a truck outside the warehouse; a bit later, a lovely woman (Emily Watson) inexplicably falls in love with Barry as the music track offers drumbeats in arbitrary counterpoint to the imagery—in fact, everything that happens is arbitrary, and the characters are mysterious without becoming interesting. Anderson wants to say something quirky and powerful about love and the miraculousness of ordinary lives, but his world neither intersects with ours at any point nor hangs together as an independent magical creation. There are touches out of Harold Lloyd's and Jacques Tati's comedies and old Hollywood musicals, but just touches.
—David Denby

Hmm... I'm sure I had an opinion about this movie stored somewhere... Ah, here it is! Omelet asked me back in November 5 if I had seen it. My answer:

Punch-Drunk Love: Saw it two weekends ago, was wowed by it. It's grating at the beginning and quite sweet in the end. Kinda like Adam Sandler himself, I guess.

But enough about that.