Sunday, January 25, 2004

My Favorite Idiots   A couple of nights ago, when I was sleep-deprived and cranky, I wrote about my picks for most annoying idiots of the day.  But, thanks to a weekend and some leftover cold medicine (antihistamines are not just for itchy eyes anymore!), I am rested and returned to my usual kindly state, and will be devoting today's blogging to my favorite idiots who COULD be annoying if you really let them get to you, but when you have enough sleep, they don't. Yes, what better way to start a new work week than with an update on what some of our old friends have been up to?  Winning the lottery and telling the boss to shove it, you say.  Sorry, not going to happen.  You are doomed to toil at your tedious job until you drop dead of a stress-induced coronary.  So, get your revenge now by using your employer's time to learn what's new in wingnut news. First, let's check in with Dennis Miller: Dennis Miller has usually been happy to spray his acerbic wit across the political spectrum, but things will be different on his new CNBC talk program. President Bush is in a mock-free zone. "I like him," Miller explained. "I'm going to give him a pass.  I take care of my friends." [snip]  The show will feature interviews, a rant on a selected topic, a "Weekend Update"-like comic newscast and a pundit panel he calls "The Varsity." And a monkey. You read that right.  Miller wanted a simian presence, believing a monkey occasionally scampering across the studio floor will keep both guests and viewers on their toes, he said.  Well, if you're going to have a Bush-free show and you still want that simian presence, I guess a monkey is the way to go. 11:17:38 PM     comment [] trackback [] TownHall: A Little Dab'll Do You   It's the weekend, and none of them really care about this crap.  Kathleen Parker As you will recall, last week Kathleen showed us why the "delightful" Judith Steinberg dressed too casually to be allowed to become first lady.  (Because "Americans have a right to visit with the woman who would represent their feminine side to the rest of the world," and so when we barged in on her some Sunday morning, she might be wearing sweats and a T-shirt, and then we'd all become lesbians). Today Kathleen announces that Howard Dean and John Kerry are "unpresidential" , and so we should let the George Bush Action Figure govern us for another four years.  In his State of the Union address, President Bush offered few surprises, other than his weird concern about steroid use among athletes, but he did demonstrate something reassuring. He conveyed that he has grown into his role. As he strode down the center aisle toward the lectern in the House chamber, greeting members of Congress, Cabinet members and generals, Bush looked the part: dignified, warm, comfortable in his skin, more statesman than cowboy, fully possessed of that rare quality we call class. And then he spilled a glass of water on Dick Cheney, conveying that he is a klutz who secretly hates Dick Cheney. But Dean unleashed his auto-exorcism in plain view of the entire universe, including our fans in the Arab world. And we want them to model their countries after ours? See, if the Arabs see a candidate yell a little too enthusiastically when addressing his supporters, they will know that democracy is evil.  It just goes without saying.   George Will George tells why Democrat Gavin Newsom's win over Matt Gonzalez, the Green party candidate, in San Francisco's mayorial race means that Howard Dean's won't get the Democratic nomination.  Because Will says so, that's why.  And hey, Newsom's wife used to be a lingerie model.  That must signify something about the Dean campaign, or Will wouldn't have mentioned it. The city has about as many camels as Republicans, so Newsom is called a "conservative." This smear gained currency even though Newsom supports "transgender rights," meaning the city pays for its employees' sex change operations, including -- this may be more than you want to know -- expensive hormone treatments.  Actually, I (and everybody else) already knew that the process of changing sexes included expensive hormone treatments, but thanks for worrying about my delicate sensibilities, Will Neil Cavuto Neil Covutu says we shouldn't listen to pundits, because they're always wrong.  You know, like that that guy who told us, "Mark my words and save this column, holiday sales are going to be huge.  Huge."  We should expose these charlatans for who they are -- tea leaf readers who couldn't distinguish Lipton from Lipitor. They haven't a clue, and deep down inside they know they haven't a clue. Robert Novak Hall Monitor Bob grades the Democrats on their courtesy during the SOTU address.  He doesn't tell us what grade he'd give the Republicans who clapped for the continuation of the terrorist threat. The most discourteous Democrat in Congress during this year's State of the Union address was veteran Rep. Maxine Waters of California. She refused to clap or stand when President Bush entered the chamber, even though Rep. John Lewis of Georgia, a fellow Black Caucus member, tried to get her out of her seat. The most courteous Democrat Tuesday night was Rep. Harold Ford Jr. of Tennessee, another Black Caucus member. He was usually the first Democrat on his feet for Bush's applause lines, sometimes was the only Democrat standing and on occasion beat Republicans in getting up. Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, known to grimace when Bush addressed Congress in the past, was on her best behavior this time -- usually joining Republicans in standing ovations. She retrogressed into eye rolling and head shaking, however, when the president claimed "dozens of weapons of mass destruction" had been "identified" in Iraq. I commend Ms. Clinton on the restraint she showed in her body language.  I believe I laughed out loud at that part -- good thing I wasn't present for the address, or Bob would have reported me to the principal.      And BTW, Bob, what the Prez really said was "Already, the Kay Report identified dozens of weapons of mass destruction-related program activities."  Try to pay attention!  No wonder the Administration has bypassed you, and now leaks to the Brits.    Paul Jacob Paul has penned a patronizing little piece on why Dr. Judith Steinberg (whom he consistently refers to as "Judy Dean") is his "favorite Democrat."  But he does at least refute the notion that Kathleen Parker (and Kathryn Lopez, and several other snide women) have advanced about it being somehow sinister that Dr. Steinberg doesn't campaign for her spouse. Baking cookies is not a crime.  TownHall: use in moderation.  And appoint a designated thinker before indulging. 4:49:48 AM     comment [] trackback []   What You Need to Know About Mars   A couple of weeks ago President Bush announced a program culminating in "human missions to Mars and to worlds beyond. (Applause.)"  But when nobody but James Lileks and Charles Krauthammer were appropriately inspired, and then the Martian rover Spirit malfunctioned (or was SABOTOGED!), the President fired the guy who thought up the whole space idea and secretly put Marvin the Martian on his "Evildoers to overthrow whenever we get the chance" list.  But now, with the successful landing of the second NASA Martian rover, Opportunity, Mars may be politically fashionable again.  So, what do you need to know about it?  First: That it holds the secret of the origins of the human species, but is otherwise pretty boring.  We learned that from Mission to Mars, a film directed by Brian de Palma.  We'll share our summary of it with you in a day or two. Second: Mars hates it when we send it our surplus Val Kilmers (and, as I'm sure you'll agree, even one is too many).  This was the moral of Red Planet, a recap of which we will also be featuring in the not-too-distant future. Third: Mars is very litigious. And last, but most importantly, that it needs women.  See for yourself:  MARS NEEDS WOMEN (1967) Directed and written by Larry Buchanan A girl is playing tennis with a dork—-when she vanishes! A pudgy, middle-aged guy goes to get some cigarettes--and his date disappears! A blonde is taking a shower--then suddenly, she’s gone! Either aliens have discovered the secret of stop-motion photography or else women have learned how to ditch annoying men and avoid showering on camera. Meanwhile, an Air Force colonel races to NASA’s secret decoding and U-Store-it site, where he is briefed on the message from space they have been receiving for the past three days. "It’s just three words," advises the lab-coated extra, in what sounds frighteningly like a song cue. In fact, the message reads: "Mars needs women." The Colonel looks rather dubious about this being our first contact with extraterrestrial intelligence, but the movie title confirms it: yes, Mars Needs Women.  And Mars apparently felt that NASA would be in a position to understand their situation, seeing as it’s staffed mainly by former members of the AV Club. After being briefed on the terse interplanetary pick-up line, the Secretary of the Hair Club for Men picks up the Hot Line to inform the President about the horny Martians. The President presumably feels the Martians’ pain. The Colonel and NASA’s four remaining employees (apparently everybody else quit when they figured out that NASA was unable to get anyone women) are loitering in NASA’s combination recording studio/lunch room when Tommy Kirk materializes to reaffirm that Mars needs women--and pretty damned quickly, as they are getting really tense and cranky. He states that he and his crew are "medical missionaries" who have come to Earth to pick up chicks. See, the Martians have been having problems with their DNA, and now the ratio of men to women is 100 to 1, which makes it very hard for an average guy to get a date for New Year’s Eve. Tommy mentions that before the opening credits his team attempted to seize three women by "transponder", but this was unsuccessful. (Translation: they struck out, and are looking around for some fresh women who aren’t lesbians.) All Mars is asking for is five healthy, fertile, female volunteers to help repopulate their planet, or to have lots of sex while trying. The Colonel is unwilling to part with even five of Earth’s women, since Colonels need women too and he hasn’t been doing too well at the Officers Club mixers himself. "Your suggestion is insane!" he shouts. Tommy says fine; they'll just get some girls without NASA’s help! And he pops out using the Martians’ advanced "Bewitched" technology. After a "Batman" dissolve, we see some USAF stock footage of airplanes. The four NASA employees gaze at the ceiling while this is being run in order to convey the idea that planes fly in the air. We then stare at a speaker for several minutes while a voice informs us that the Martians have jammed our radar and such. It’s a FedTro speaker, and it seems to work very well for channeling voices from stock footage. So, when Earth is under attack from Mars and you’re in the market for speakers, choose FedTro! After crippling Earth’s defenses, the aliens are free to land their craft, a copper wok, in an abandoned ice plant in Houston. The Martians, sporting wet suits and earmuffs made from yo-yos with antennas glued to them, make it easy to understand why their own women won’t have anything to do with them. The Martians have less than 24-hours to find and nab suitable women for "Operation Sleep Freeze," their code name for the plan to abduct frigid women who will refuse to sleep with them. And since their only weapon is the power of hypnotism (which they acquired from reading those "How to Seduce Any Woman" books advertised in the back of Hustler), their mission seems hopeless. But they vow to give it their best shot, on behalf of losers everywhere. Tommy starts his girl hunt at the Holiday Inn. He pretends to be a humorless, gay medical reporter from Seattle, since Martian research has shown this is catnip to women. The first step in his plan to capture a mate is to stay in his hotel room and watch TV. While so engaged, he catches a story about Dr. Yvonne Craig, Ph.D., a "stunning brunette" with a Pulitzer in Space Genetics (her horn-rimmed glasses verify her academic credentials). She has come to Houston to help the government deal with the libidinous Martians. When Tommy sees a poster advertising her upcoming lecture on Space Sex (admittance only to accredited journalists and others willing to pay $4.99 a minute), he decides to attend, in hopes of meeting Adam West. Yvonne’s press conference isn’t going as well as she had hoped--the audience consists solely of three doughy guys who make sexist remarks and flirt with each other instead of her. Yvonne takes off her glasses and prissily informs them that unless somebody can ask a pertinent question, the conference is over! This was just the opening Tommy was waiting for, and he throws out something about gene mapping, chromosome research, and how occasional impotence can happen to any man. Yvonne is very impressed by Tommy’s question and tells the other reporters they should all try to be more like him, causing them to give Tommy a wedgie and steal his lunch money as soon as the lecture is over. But Yvonne is smitten by Tommy’s total lack of manliness and asks him out. So, Tommy and Yvonne walk to the planetarium, where they watch stock space footage and fall in stock love. Meanwhile, the other Martians pursue their dream girls. "Fellow Two" knows exactly what kind of women Mars needs and immediately heads for a strip joint. His choice for the mother of the new race is a rather matronly gal in an evening gown whose act consists of poking out her butt and waving her arms in circles. But she seems really smart. "Fellow Three" grabs a stewardess, since they are almost as genetically superior as strippers. "Fellow Four" finds his candidate at stock footage of a football game—she’s the Homecoming Queen, and so the "ideal woman" of drunken frat boys everywhere. "Fellow Five" is running out of time, and decides to take any girl who can pass that drawing test from the Art Institute of America. He meets a girl who can sketch a tree, and he’s done! So, everybody has a girl stashed in the flying saucer except Tommy, who still isn’t quite sure what he’d do with one once he got her home. The authorities, as represented by the four NASA employees, the Colonel, and space sex expert Yvonne, assemble in the NASA room to discuss the interplanetary situation. They instantaneously deduce that four women are missing, that the women were all "built like goddesses" (although the film can’t really back this up), and they were kidnapped by Martians using hypnosis (which is, after all, the most common cause of missing women). Then, by putting pins in a poster of Julie Newmar, Yvonne concludes that the Martians are hiding in the old ice plant! She also states that the Martians are planning on freezing the stolen women, to keep them fresh and crispy during the journey (she doesn’t have horned-rimmed glasses for nothing!) The Colonel announces they’ll raid the place that night, and then swears everybody to secrecy. Of course, Yvonne loses no time in telling Tommy that they’ve located the Martian base and plan to attack it in about an hour (she needed something to break a lull in the conversation). She and Tommy race to the ice plant, where Tommy warns the Martians of the Earthlings’ imminent raid. He says they must take off for Mars immediately, leaving behind the girls, who have only had time to get slushy and so would probably spoil in transit. It’s at this point that Ph.D. scientist Yvonne figures out that Tommy isn’t really a medical reporter from Seattle . . . although he may actually be humorless and gay. Anyway, Tommy wants to stay on Earth, but the other Martians say that either he or Yvonne must go with them to Mars, since they are the only two name stars in the film and SAG rules are very strict about things like this. So, Tommy sacrifices himself and returns to Mars, where there are 100 men for every woman . . .and 99 men for every other man. As she gazes up at the stock footage of the Milky Way, a tear slides down Yvonne’s cheek. Yes, Tommy Kirk was the best she could do, and yes, he got away. But not without stealing her heart, and not without giving her space VD. The End. Who can’t empathize with the Martians’ predicament? Alone in the darkness, just looking for a little love, a little warmth. Reaching out to Earth for help, only to be rebuffed. But NASA scientists were hardly the right people to contact if Mars needed women. No, the Martians should have approached the community with a history of helping the unfortunates of this world, men with big hearts, big bucks, and plenty of chicks to spare: Hollywood celebrities. We like to think that stars like Russell Crowe and Tom Cruise would have immediately donated their slightly used women (Tom’s would have been just like new) to aid the cause of intergalactic horniness. Probably the philanthropists of Tinsel Town would have also volunteered their services for a big "Mars Needs Women" telethon, inviting viewers to contribute any spare women they might have lying about the house. Remember, the donations are not only for a good cause, they’re also sex deductible! Or how about Mars Needs Women: The Musical! It could help revitalize Broadway while also generating enough box office and cross-promotional merchandising to just buy each of the Martians a hooker. We have already started the libretto—maybe we'll share it with you later. Mars Needs Women: The Musical.  Now and Forever.  We're planning on getting Leonard Bernstein to do the music, PeeWee Herman to choreograph, and having Andrew Lloyd Webber killed. Call us if you want to invest. 3:06:03 AM     comment [] trackback []   Awww! Jim Capozzola of The Rittenhouse Review announced today that, due to financial constraints, he'll be leaving Philadelphia and relocating to the middle of nowhere.  Having personally done something similar (well, it was a move from a suburb of Washington, D.C. to a suburb of the middle of nowhere) I can say that while a step like brings its wake feelings of alienation, loss, and culture shoc (and the move itself is a major pain), there are compensations.  For instance, there are rarely traffic jams in the middle of nowhere.  And the locals have their own quant folkways, and are good people, once you get to know them.  And having family near by is often a blessing (and sometimes a curse -- but that's true of all relationship.) And the best news is that Jim will have new things to blog about.  Change, while not always welcome, does offer chances to gain new perspectives.  I for one am very pleased that Jim will continue with both his blogs, albeit at a lighter pace until the transition is over.  Jim, my brother in soon-to-be exile, I salute you for your courage and fortitude in dealing with your reverses, and wish you all the best in this new adventure. 12:54:14 AM     comment [] trackback []

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