I realize we don't have the best of relationships, you and I, dear Hollywood, but really, I swear on this one you won't get screwed on the deal and might honestly conclude that you came out with the better end of the bargain. Are you ready for it? Ok, here goes.

Ahem.

Please, please, please hire Sigourney Weaver to act in something so she doesn't have to demean herself with these pitiful DirecTV commercials.

It's great that she has a sense of humor about herself and the character that brought her worldwide fame, but really. The schtick behind these commercials instantly went straight to hell the minute DirecTV hired El Slutta herself, Pam Anderson, to be in one. Signourney is better than this. Hire her.

I mean, honestly, it's not like she sucks.

Posted by: Kathy at 07:43 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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A fanatic about locally sourced ingredients, Guy Bertrand of Le Singe Amoureux prized ortolan above all other delicacies. He was not alone; devotees of the elusive songbird paid handsomely for his multi-course tasting menus.

Yet Bertrand's legacy was ultimately determined not by a menu, but by a newspaper: the April 6, 1962 edition of Le Monde, which carried a front-page review alleging that Bertrand had been passing off ordinary yellowhammers as ortolan. Reaction was swift; reservations were cancelled, Relais and Chateaux launched a formal inquiry, and ortolan mongers cut off his supply.

The chef denied the charges, but the scorn was unrelenting. Finally, he came to believe the accusations, and on August 14, 1962, Guy Bertrand took his own life with an ortolan boning knife.

Four years later, correspondence was discovered revealing the reviewer's vendetta---born of a failed attempt to woo Mme. Bertrand. Subsequent testing of a confiscated ortolan terrine and fricassee revealed the integrity of their ingredients.

In 1966, Bertrand was posthumously awarded the Legion d'Honneur and today the ortolan is more revered than ever.

---swiped, again, from the local French joint.

{Ed. That must have been a painful way to go. Owie.}

Posted by: Kathy at 12:27 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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No sommelier had ever risen so rapidly as Bordeaux native Henri Marnier. At age 30 he had built a storied wine cellar at Au Troll Mignon in Neuilly. By the time he was 35, Henri's opinion could make or break entire harvests.

Across the ocean in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, no star at Cletus Siding blazed brighter than that of Burt Stump, winner of a national sales incentive trip to Paris.

So it was, on April 4, 1966, that the two had their one and only encounter. Following Henri's counsel, the Stumps ordered a '58 Chateaux Margaux. Stump took a sip and pronounced it "undrinkable." Marnier pronounced it "eminently drinkable." Stump said, "Fine, you drink it." Marnier answered, "Fine, I will," then finished the bottle in front of the Stumps, taking two hours to do so. "Margaux," he said, "will not be swilled."

Two hours later, France's premier sommelier collapsed. Three weeks later, he succumbed to Margaux-induced sepsis.

Four decades later, Henri Marnier remains "Le Martyr de Bordeaux." Burt and Brandine Stump enjoy an active retirement in Coral Gables, Florida.

---from a handout that encompassed our check at the local French joint.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:41 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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To paraphrase the husband: There's a reason why AT&T's nicknamed "The Death Star."

AT&T Inc. has joined Hollywood studios and recording companies in trying to keep pirated films, music and other content off its network — the first major carrier of Internet traffic to do so.

The San Antonio-based company started working last week with studios and record companies to develop anti-piracy technology that would target the most frequent offenders, said James W. Cicconi, an AT&T senior vice president.

The nation's largest telephone and Internet service provider also operates the biggest cross-country system for handling Internet traffic for its customers and those of other providers.

As AT&T has begun selling pay-television services, the company has realized that its interests are more closely aligned with Hollywood, Cicconi said in an interview Tuesday. The company's top leaders recently decided to help Hollywood protect the digital copyrights to that content.

"We do recognize that a lot of our future business depends on exciting and interesting content," he said.{...}

{my emphasis}

So, basically what we have here is an ISP saying they're going to start patrolling their pipes for copyright infringers. This means not only will BitTorrent whores be singled out for their bandwidth hogging ways, but could, conceivably, extend to anyone who looks at a clip from a tee vee show on You Tube. AT&T is doing this because they value their relationship with Hollywood more than they do the customers who fork over God only knows how much per month for internet service, and who, essentially, keep their business in business.

Ironically, they're doing this so they have access to future content to sell to said internet subscribers.

Who won't be able to download it without thinking long and hard about whether AT&T could potentially cut off their internet service if they do.

Idiots.

The only funny bit about this is that Cingular, which as the commercials incessantly remind us is "now the New At&T" is launching the iPhone at the end of the month. It's not clear what, specifically, this means for iPhone suckers users, but I don't suspect it'll be anything good when it comes to providing content for that nifty little screen you're supposed to be able to watch movies and tee vee on.

See also: Tech Crunch and Tech Dirt

Posted by: Kathy at 11:00 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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{Insert the sound of my bald head smacking against my desk here. Repeat fifteen times, then take some advil.}

This should be a big honkin' sign you have too much bloody money:

{...}"I've taken the time to familiarize myself with the impressive field of Democratic candidates and am convinced that
Hillary Clinton is the most qualified candidate to lead us from her first day in the White House," Spielberg said in a statement.

Spielberg, a founding partner of DreamWorks Studio and the director of such films as "Jurassic Park," "Schindler's List" and "Saving Private Ryan," had waited several months to decide which candidate to endorse as Democratic hopefuls jousted for Hollywood's financial backing.

His decision reflects Clinton's growing support among show business heavyweights following a period in which many donors hedged their bets by giving money to several candidates, including Clinton, Illinois Sen. Barack Obama and former North Carolina Sen.
John Edwards.

"My sense is that there continues to be three very strong talented Democratic front-runners, and there's a long way to go," said Andy Spahn, Spielberg's political advisor.{...}

{my emphasis}

Steven Spielberg has his own political advisor?

Are you kidding me?

There is actually a class of working politicos who advise film directors as to whom they should endorse for the Democratic nomination for president?

Again, are you fucking kidding me?

Give it to the poor, Stevie. Give it to the poor. Or, in the absence of any poor people in Beverly Hills, give it to me. I'll spend it wisely. I promise.

I'm so glad he chimed in with his decision, too. Because I've been waiting for it like I've been waiting for the sequel to War of the Worlds.

Or a case of the clap.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:48 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Ok, that's just sad. And stupid.

And people wonder why I don't subscribe to the Strib.

I'm serious about that, too. I can be chatting with a neighbor or someone I met at a party, something that was mentioned in the paper comes up, and I'm clueless; they inform me of what's going on; I shrug my shoulders and say, "Well, I haven't subscribed in years." They express shock and wonder at this statement, and perhaps look down on me, like I'm an idiot, that of course I should be subscribing, otherwise how will I know what Garrison Keilor has written this week? I honestly don't give a rat's ass what the Strib has published and, in general, the People's Republic of Minnesota is a much nicer place to live when you're not aware of what a select group of idiots (coughcoughMinneapolisCityCouncilcoughcoughStateLegislatorscoughcough...) are up to. I mean, honestly: what does it matter if I pay attention anyway? Will anyone in the establishment listen to me if I complain? No. So, why bother?

What's funny is that a few months back, when I wasn't blogging, I was actually called by a Strib reporter, who shall remain nameless because I can't remember his name. He left a message on my voice mail in regards to Mike Zabawa and could I please call him back? I have a brother that goes by that name and I wondered what he could have possibly done to merit attention. I call the guy back, and I find out that it's not my brother he's asking about, but rather this guy, who, allegedly, tried to wipe a Waseca family out of existence on a cold February night. I told him I didn't know him, and if I was related to him I certainly didn't know anything about it. Since he seemed disinclined to believe me, I had to explain that "Zabawa" is actually a pretty common Polish name, so, no, even though my maiden name is the same, I probably wasn't related to the guy. The reporter was also surprised that I didn't know anything about this. He seemed to assume that everyone knew all about the story and when I told him I didn't, because, ahem, I didn't subscribe to the Strib. His reply: "Shame on you." And he was half-serious, too! I told him I subscribed to the FT, and that shut him up. It just goes to show you what a ridiculous air of entitlement this newspaper---and some of its employees---gives off. It seems they just assume you should subscribe because you live here, that quality of content doesn't come into the equation. It's a ridiculously blind way to go about your business.

It's like a pot dealer not realizing that their market is eroding due to meth sales.

That said, I kind of had the feeling Lileks would get the ax, or a demotion, at some point. His column has been whacked at with the column-inch weed whacker for years, so that it's barely a shadow of what it used to be. They changed it from "The Backfence" to "The Quirk" and they moved it from the Variety page to the Metro section when they changed the name. (At least I think they did. The only time I pick up the paper lately is at the oncologist's office.) It's been coming for some time. God only knows what they're going to do to him next, but he's much too talented a writer to be forced to churn out stories about the Internet. I'm sure he'll give it his best shot, because that's just who he is, but it's a magnificent squandering of talent if I've ever seen one.

{see also: Martini Boy's Bartender and the Llamas}

Posted by: Kathy at 02:38 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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George Tenet from his 60 Minutes interview on Sunday:

{...}Tenet admits the CIA's mistakes and his own. But what makes him angry now is how the White House ignored CIA warnings, cooked the books on intelligence, and then used "slam dunk" to brand him with the failure.

"The hardest part of all of this has just been listening to this for almost three years. Listening to the vice president go on 'Meet The Press' on the fifth year of 9/11, and say, 'Well, George Tenet said, slam dunk.' As if he needed me to say slam dunk to go to war with Iraq," Tenet tells Pelley. "And they never let it go. I mean, I became campaign talk. I was a talking point. You know, 'Look at what the idiot told us, and we decided to go to war.' Well, let's not be so disingenuous. Let's stand up. This is why we did it. This is why, this is how we did it. And let's tell, let's everybody tell the truth." {...}

{my emphasis}

What is that I hear? Could that possibly be the world's smallest violin playing the saddest of all sad songs just for you, George? Could it be? I think it is. Because God only knows you've had it rough over the past three years, living the life of a fat cat government retiree with a book deal. Poor you. Gosh, it must really be hard to have to hear Dick Cheney bad mouth you on national tee vee. How do you stand it? Copious amounts of scotch? Vicodin? Hookers? What? George, how do you manage to make it through the day? America wonders.

Far be it from me, however, to point out that for all your bitching and moaning about how hard it's been to listen to Dirty Dick badmouth you, there are other people who have it worse than you do. People with a far greater sense of honor, courage and fortitude, who are living through Hell on Earth, fighting bad guys left, right and center and who, sometimes, only manage to survive by the hair of their chinny chin chins. They, too, are facing the direct consequences of your actions, yet they don't get to go on 60 Minutes and whine about how hard it's been for them the past three years. Scott Pelley sure as hell doesn't want to interview them---that is, unless they've been accused of doing something wrong Then he's all over them. But until that point? Nope. They suffer in silence. And that's the way they like it. Because they don't see it as "suffering" per se; they see it as "doing their job."

And you just made it harder for them.

Nice double whammy, asshole.

In case you're wondering whom I'm referring to George, well, it's the men and women of the United States Armed Services, who went to war because their Commander in Chief ordered them to---a Commander in Chief who based his decision to wage said war on intelligence you delivered and which turned out to be bad. Surprisingly, however, they don't mind that. They're in Iraq, and no matter how they got there, they want to finish the job they started. Yet, you take no responsibility for your part in all this. Instead, you choose to whine that you've been scapegoated by an administration who never appointed you in the first place, and who should have, by all rights, fired your sorry ass on September 12, but who not only gave you the benefit of the doubt after 9/11, and who also went to bat for you when critics bayed for your blood. This is how you repay them. This is how you repay the men and women who risk their lives everyday for this country. You whine about how hard it's been to be badmouthed on Meet the Press?

Well, far be it from me to say so, George, but perhaps there should be a little rendition in your case. As in they should throw your lard-ridden ass on the back of a C-130 (no private jets for you, George), fly you to Iraq, dump you in the middle of Baghdad (and not the Green Zone, either) and see if your perspective changes a bit.

Methinks you'll still feel sorry for yourself, but it'll be for other reasons then.

See also: Hitchens and Fausta.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:43 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 733 words, total size 4 kb.

No, I'm not back.

I'm simply here to make a point so I can get on with the Christmas baking, unencumbered by a nagging twitch at the back of my brain. Twitches of this sort I've noticed, my neglected Cake Eater readers, tend to spoil the fudge.

I present for your edification, Moralism kills hope of less vicious vice:

{reprinted in its entirety because it'll slip behind the subscription wall soon enough}

Morality is choosing to live one's life by a code of behaviour. Moralism is inflicting a puritanical code upon others. Moralism kills. It leads to making prostitution and the use of drugs illegal. That brings ghastly results. Now, when the murders of five prostitutes in Suffolk are gripping the attention of the UK, all must see just how ghastly these results can occasionally be.

Finding prostitution abhorrent is quite understandable. It is equally understandable that people find the sale of dangerous drugs abhorrent. But policy should focus on consequences, not such emotions. Prohibition merely drives these practices further underground, thereby making bad worse.

In the UK, prostitution is not illegal. The position is far worse in the US, where it is illegal in all states, except Nevada. But even in the UK, soliciting and advertising by prostitutes, as well as "kerb-crawling" and, most important, living off the earnings of prostitutes are all illegal.

A brief glimmer of sanity broke out, with the publication of a thoroughly sensible review, Paying the Price, by the often unjustly condemned Home Office in July 2004. It did not take long for the UK's tabloid press, that whited sepulchre of hypocritical moralism, to douse the light once more.

Nothing will now be done to make the business safer for those engaged in it. That can only happen if it is possible to establish businesses, with secure premises, with proper security and medical checks. In other words, it can only happen with the legalisation of brothels. Instead, action against kerb-crawling is being intensified and the idea of establishing legal red-light areas has been abandoned.

This will merely drive the business yet further underground, where it will remain intertwined with another business driven into the darkness: drugs. Paying the Price estimated there were 80,000 people working in the sex industry in Britain, with 95 per cent of the women involved dependent on drugs. A close link exists between illegal drugs and prostitution, with pimps often suppliers of both.

Unable to work within properly regulated businesses, prostitutes are far more vulnerable to violent customers. Nobody can now try to ensure the safety of prostitutes even, as we can see, from the deranged attacks of a serial killer. Public indifference to the fate of these women explains, but cannot excuse, this immoral policy.

We will never eliminate either prostitution or the demand for drugs. But we can minimise the damage done by these twin evils: prostitutes must have the opportunity to work in safe and secure environments; addicts must be allowed safe and secure access, through the health service, to the drugs they crave. This is not to condone vice. It is to recognise the limits imposed by human frailty. Those who persist in peddling moralism instead have blood on their hands.

Am I the only one who finds it curious how, according to the FT editorial board, everyone is to blame for murdered prostitutes except, apparently, for the killer himself?

Supposedly the only one who is allowed to inflict his own particular brand of moralism with impunity is the murderer of these poor prostitutes.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:52 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 590 words, total size 4 kb.

Damn.

ATASCADERO, Calif. - A retired salesman alleged a stripper and her friend beat and robbed him in his home. John Skinner, 54, said he was on his way to Bible study on Jan. 23 when exotic dancer Maureen Murphy, 25, knocked on his door and offered him a free strip-o-gram.

Murphy said a friend had already paid for the show, police said.

When Skinner agreed to let her perform, knife wielding Richard Adam, 23, allegedly forced his way inside and told Skinner he owed Murphy, owner of Bikini Assassins, and another woman money for earlier services.

Skinner said he owed Talbert money for sex one time but not for a previous time when he said she fell asleep before they could have sex.{...}

And all of this happened as he was on his way to bible study, too!

Posted by: Kathy at 01:08 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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...but it'll do.

{Hat tip: Chrissy}

Posted by: Kathy at 09:41 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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While I shouldn't judge, because I can't drive a stick, either---and am generally of the belief that if God gave someone the impetus to invent the automatic transmission, it would be a shame not to use it---it nonetheless would seem as if that's pretty basic goddamned information for James Bond to know---or, as in this case, anyone playing James Bond.

{...}The latest hitch on the set of "Casino Royale," the new 007 flick, reportedly occurred when the star revealed he couldn't drive the super-suave superspy's trademark Aston Martin. Craig, 37, found himself shaken, not stirred, when he was confronted with a manual gearshift instead of an automatic, British newspapers said today.{...}

I mean, honestly. Every single Bond film has an extended car chase sequence in it. Every single Bond film shows Bond driving. And every single Bond car has a manual transmission. Where, exactly, did Daniel Craig get the idea that Bond would suddenly be driving a automatic? Particularly since Aston Martin's are hand built and the Vanquish model, which was the last Bond car in Die Another Day, does not have an option for an automatic transmission?

Well, there's no denying it now: he's The Pussy Bond (TM). Any leeway I ws prepared to grant him because of Layer Cake is now gone. Ghandi. Poof. Disappeared into the ether.

{Hat tip: Chrissy}

Posted by: Kathy at 10:14 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Chad Hedrick is a complete and utter ass.

I hate him.

I hate his big, freshly fake enameled teeth. I want him to fall and break one of those suckers right off.

I hate how he makes sure all his Nike branded gear is front and center for the camera every time he weasles his way in front of one. I hate how he always tries to make eye contact with the camera, like he's got an imporant message for all the folks at home. I hate how he changed his hat right before he got his medal to make sure Nike was getting their money's worth. You're about to get a gold medal and THIS is what you're thinking of? Make sure the sponsors are being taken care of? Then you have the GALL to bitch at Shani Davis for favoring himself over his country because he chose not to participate in the team pursuit? What THE fuck is the matter with you, Chad? Patriotism at the Olympics is apparently only important to you when you can win more gold, eh? THEN you expect us to believe that's not the case? That's bullshit.

I hate how he apparently listened to his PR people and came up with a "story" to make his gold medal seem more important. The day he won was "the thirteenth anniversary of his grandma's death." The THIRTEENTH anniversary of his grandma's death. THIRTEENTH. She'd been dead a pretty long time, don't you think, to create such a maelstrom of emotion in her grandson? I wonder what he was like on the first anniversary of her death. He must have been prostrate with grief for days. If that day hadn't been the thirteenth anniversary of his grandma's death, I'm pretty sure he would have come up with some story about how his dog had been run over by a car back home and he was worried about fido. Or how it was a year ago today that his girlfriend broke up with him. OR had refused to give him head or something equally stupid. If he was actually torn up about his grandma's death, then I'm tall enough to reach the top shelves in my kitchen cupboards---which I'm not, just in case you were wondering. Someone told him he needed a story, so he came up with one. It's all bullshit.

I hate everything about him. He's a Grade A Prime Shithead. I sincerely hope he bombs his last race. He's a poor sportsman and an even worse American.

He's the dumb asshole the rest of the world thinks all Americans are, and I, for one, am ashamed to have him representing my country at the Olympics.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:06 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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Wham!

"Look at what happened to James Frey in the last two weeks. That's a great book and so is the follow-up book. And just because his publisher chose to say that these were memoirs, it took it out of being a great work of fiction... to this guy having to go be sucker punched on Oprah by one of the most powerful women in television, just to grind her own axe about it. Hey, Oprah. You had President (Bill Clinton) on your show and if this prick didn't lie about a couple of things, I'm going to set myself on fire right now. James Frey is a writer, OK? He can write about whatever he wants. It's fiction. It's just shameful how he was treated in some of these things."

{emphasis mine}

Now, I disagree with Bruce on most of this. Personally I think James Frey got what he deserved. He lied. He did it in a big, fat, egregious way, he reaped huge benefits from lying, and he expected to get away with it: he was just dumb enough to think he'd get a fair shake on Oprah's show after she'd been reamed by the critics for a week and a half. Her name is her brand, which is worth billions of dollars; she's not going to lay that on the line for you, James. She's just not going to. That would be dumb, which, whatever else you want to call Oprah---bitch is at the top of the list for me---is not a good descriptor for her. Also, I'm not really quite sure what dear ol' Bruno is talking about when he refers to Frey's books as "fiction" because while it's apparent that's what they are now, they were published and sold as memoirs. (Which, of course, leads to a whole 'nother conversation we could be having about the standards of fiction publishing nowadays, and if this book was flushed as fiction, but bought by as a memoir---both by the same freakin' editor at Random House who basically got a pass on Oprah's show---well, Lucy, you gots some 'splainin to do, but we'll choose to avoid going there for the sake of expediency.)

Yet... I'm relishing the exceedingly enjoyable shot he scored against Oprah's bloated sense of self-righteousness using Bubba Clinton as a hockey puck.

We've got a word for that here in Cake Eater Land: GOOOOOAAAAAALLLL!

{hat tip: The Evening Star}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:34 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Don't f@3k with grandma.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:28 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Forget all this hubbub about cartoons depicting Mohammed in a blasphemous way.

I've got something much, MUCH worse than all of that. You see, I found an Arabic version of one of the most famous and beloved songs in the American Songbook.

Ahem.

My devoted (and undoubtedly shocked) Cake Eater readers, I present to you the Arabic version of {insert sexy baseline here} Shaft.

Blasphemy against Isaac Hayes aside, I think we're safe in saying, however, that the dude whose work this is could not be considered a sex machine to all the chicks.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:27 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Brrrr.

{...}Brillstein-Grey Entertainment literary manager Kassie Evashevski, who represented the author of "A Million Little Pieces" for more than four years, said she's not representing him anymore because of his tall tales.

"In the last week, it became impossible for me to maintain a relationship once the trust had been broken," Evashevski told Publisher Weekly for a story on Tuesday. "He eventually did apologize, but I felt for many reasons I had to let him go as a client."{...}

Putting aside the issue of Frey's lying for a secong, let's see precisely what the business angle is here. How much money did she and her agency make off Frey? Somewhere between 10-15% of the net of any royalties he gets---if not more---and that's after advances, options and the like. Methinks this has more to do with the fact that Warner Brothers is rethinking making the book into a movie. That's why they're dumping him, not because of any "trust" issues. They've gotten their money out of him, and will keep collecting money from any new sales, but that's all they're willing to do for him. Which is shitty, if you ask me. Yes, it's the real world, but damn. The guy did, after all, make you a boatload of cash. You could at least stick by him until the storm blows over and then dump him quietly.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:27 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The Cake Eater Sister, Christi, sends this email along:

I have lately been bombarded with commercials advertising Curious George. I love George and so do the kids. It is done by Ron Howard, so you would think he is on the up and up...but, i have one huge gripe...on the commercial, there is an astounded "Man With the Yellow Hat" saying to George,"You followed me all the way from Africa?"

Okay, okay, do we really need to coddle our youth of today that much? Really, now, we can't tell the little kids that the nice man with the yellow hat really captured George to bring him back to a zoo in the United States?

Here's the trailer which has the offensive, coddling, politcally correct line that Christi's talking about. Although, it looks like more than just a line, but rather an extensive change in plot. Replete with a boat named the "H.A. Rey."

Christi then requests that I should do some research about this and "blow Ron out of the water" but I don't really think that's necessary at all as she covers the bases quite nicely.

Feel free to add your angst to hers, my devoted Cake Eater readers. That's what the comments section is for.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:21 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Are you ready to play, boys and girls? All righty then. Who said,

"You, American mother, if the Pentagon calls to tell you that your son is coming home in a coffin, then remember George Bush. And you, British wife, if the Defense Department calls you to say that your husband is returning crippled and burnt, remember Tony Blair."

Eh?

Was it leading anti-war activist, Cindy Sheehan?

Was it Daily Kos?

Was it Congressman John Murtha?

Was it Senators Kerry or Rodham Clinton?

Nope. It's none of those. It's {insert drumroll here}...AYMAN AL-ZAWAHIRI!, CURRENT #2 IN AL-QAEDA!

When your rhetoric comes out sounding exactly like that of an Egyptian nutjob terrorist, you might want to rethink how you word things.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:10 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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As in, "That is..."

{...}SPIELBERG: I think we all have been given our marching orders ... Maybe I shouldn't get into this. [Pause] I just feel that filmmakers are much more proactive since the second Bush administration. I think that everybody is trying to declare their independence and state their case for the things that we believe in. No one is really representing us, so we're now representing our own feelings, and we're trying to strike back.

So Bush has been good for film?
SPIELBERG: I wouldn't just say Bush. The whole neo-conservative movement.

CLOONEY: Because it's polarizing. I'm not going to sit up and say, "This is how you should think." But let's at least acknowledge that there should be an open debate, and not be told that it's unpatriotic to ask questions. Steven, you're taking it from all sides right now.

SPIELBERG: [Laughs] I feel wildly popular.

Did you expect the political reaction to "Munich" to be this heated?
SPIELBERG: I knew we were going to receive a volley from the right. I was surprised that we received a much smaller, but no less painful, volley from the left. It made me feel a little more aware of the dogma, and the Luddite position people take any time the Middle East is up for discussion.

So many fundamentalists in my own community, the Jewish community, have grown very angry at me for allowing the Palestinians simply to have dialogue and for allowing Tony Kushner to be the author of that dialogue. "Munich" never once attacks Israel, and barely criticizes Israel's policy of counterviolence against violence. It simply asks a plethora of questions. It's the most questioning story I've ever had the honor to tell. For that, we were accused of the sin of moral equivocation. Which, of course, we didn't intend—and we're not guilty of.{...}

See, here's the thing. I like Spielberg. I like Spielberg's movies. I think, on the whole, he's a decent man. And he made Schindler's List which is a movie I can only watch on rare occasions because it moves me to explore the wells of sympathy that I know I possess yet rarely like to plumb because it's painful to do so. He's a man who, most would think, is on the right side of the moral equation. He knows right from wrong. He knows how to tell an entertaining story, and no one can deny that he's been very successful at telling tales, but...

...when I read that these words, "I just feel that filmmakers are much more proactive since the second Bush administration. I think that everybody is trying to declare their independence and state their case for the things that we believe in. No one is really representing us, so we're now representing our own feelings, and we're trying to strike back." came from his mouth, I don't exactly feel sympathetic, ya dig? Poor widdle Stevie Spielberg is feeling disenfranchised. He's not feeling "represented." So he's, "striking back."

Fight the powers that be!

/channelling Public Enemy

Forgive me while I bend over and laugh myself silly.

It's absurd. Ludicrous. And any other number of adjectives that describe how just plain dumb it is that Spielberg thinks he's disenfranchised. That he's not being represented, that he has to fight to get his ideas out there to beat back the awful phenomenon that is neo-conservatism, even if it appears he's using The Guardian's lax, imprecise, and boogeyman-ish definition of that particular school of international relations theory. He would have us believe he's just one more Ordinary Joe fighting the powers that be.

Well, Stevie, really. Sell your crazy elsewhere, we're all stocked up here.

This man could get a hangnail. If he wanted to, he could publicize the fact that he had a hangnail, and everyone in the world would pay attention. CNN would run stories on Spielberg's hangnail, and would bring on doctors to discuss what would happen should said hangnail become infected. The pundity-doctors would then go on to discuss whether neosporin should be used to clear up his infected hangnail, or if he should just expose it to air and let nature take its course. I could go on, but I think you get the picture, eh, my devoted Cake Eater Readers.

Spielberg has clout. He has it in Hollywood. He has it everywhere in the world. He has it because, ahem, he's earned it. He's worked hard to make his mark, and he's done precisely that. And yet, for some strange reason, he wants us to believe that's not the case. That's he just one more disaffected, early-21st Century Dude who has no say in the way things are run.

No, Stevie. I dont have a say in the way things are run. You, Stevie, are the establishment. There's a bit of a difference. Learn it, please. You're making a fool of yourself.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:13 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Because I can't quite help myself.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:12 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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