MOVIE LICKS

they're so money (and they know it)
The numbers are in and somewhat surprisingly, Wedding Crashers came in as #1 this weekend after trailing Charlie and Chocolate Factory for two weeks. This is remarkable on a few levels: first, the movie only lost 20% of its audience from last week which means that mostly strong reviews and more importantly, good word-of-mouth is packing people in. According to the above-linked article, if the movie sustains this success, it's on track to be the highest grossing R-rated comedy of all time.

I admit, S and I contributed by going to a matinee of the film this weekend and like William Hung (ha, take that Junichi), I have no regrets. Few quick comments:

• The last third of the film really nose-dived but not enough to ruin the film for me.
  
  
• Personally, I enjoyed Wilson and Vaughn's chemistry and wordy, chattering repartee. The romantic comedy subplots might have been weak, but as a buddy film, this succeeded quite well.
  
  
• I can see why Rachel McAdams is the current "it" girl in Hollywood though I don't have any illusions that she'll hold the spot for more than a few more films. Isla Fisher was kick ass but hey, it's always fun to play crazy. Ali G's a lucky dude.
  
  
• As someone who's watched Alias since S1 (and lived to regret that at times), it's weird seeing Bradley Cooper cast as a complete asshole. I thought this was a misstep with the script. Not like WC is high on realism, but his character was just so insanely alpha-dog, the choice between him and Wilson is like choosing between stapling your finger and getting a back-rub.
  
  
• Will Ferrell works but only in very, very small doses.

Somewhere at New Line, I'm sure there will be whispers of "sequel" brewing though it's not the kind of film which really lends itself as such. I do think we're going to start seeing a lot more of Vince Vaughn in the next two years and quite possibly, another Vaughn/Wilson team-up down the road. Maybe both of them can play characters in Wes Anderson's adaptation of Roald Dahl's The Fantastic Mr. Fox (am I the only person who thinks that story, in Anderson's hands, could be rather wack?)

By the way, I just read an interesting take on the movie by Slate's Debra Dickerson who asks, how come they don't crash any Black people's weddings?

Anyways, as sweet as this weekend was for Wedding Crashers, Stealth crashed and burned on take-off, perhaps smashing into The Island on that way down. These two $100,000,000 films are going to lose enough money to hopefully get a few folks fired. And the thing is...if you saw the previews for Stealth, you just knew it was going to suuuuuuuuck. It looked terrible and I just hope Jamie cashed that check ASAP. As for The Island, my friend Josh give it one of the best mixed reviews I've seen, something to the extent of, "it blew but it was the best Michael Bay film since The Rock." I'm not sure if that's damning with faint praise or praising with faint damning. Either way, all of Bay's "I'm critic-proof!" chickens are now knocking on the barn door.

I still have yet to see this but March of the Penguins is now the third highest grossing documentary of all-time. Michael Moore needs to look over his shoulder for all the flightless birds coming his way.

---

IN OTHER NEWS...

Microsoft's Virtual Earth erases Apple's HQ in Cupertino.

MC Chaucer. Provided, I haven't heard this yet, but it just sounds painful.
(credit: Kris Ex)

Test your breaks. 16/16 suckas.

Chinese/Puerto Rican relations take a hit. Maybe those trash-talking sessions worked.

I agree, this college football/hip-hop comparison is pretty funny. Here's the entry for my alma mater:

"Cal/Common

A lot of people want to see these guys blow up, mostly because they are often associated with hippies and liberal politics, and considered "smarter" than those at the top of their game. Uses the media to bitch about others blowin' up spots they think they rightfully deserve. Known to send feelers out to the big leagues with middling results."

(credit: Different Kitchen)

Forget neurotoxins, you gotta watch out for those erotoxins. Gives the term "porn addiction" a whole new meaning.
(credit: Kris Ex)

--O.W.

YOUNG WHITE AND LIFTED, PT. 2

Have you seen me? Have you seen me on the news?

Both O-Dub and I have written about the media's propensity to only report missing persons who are young, female, attractive and white.

Completely supporting this thesis is the fact that Natalee Holloway is still getting thousands of times more news coverage than LaToyia Figueroa, a missing 24-year-old who is five months pregnant and the mother of a 7-year-old daughter. Figueroa was last seen on July 18th, 2005 in Southwest Philadelphia near her boyfriend's home.

Both are equally tragic stories. But Figueroa has only been missing for ten days, whereas Holloway has been missing for two months and, at this point, most people know what she looks like and where she disappeared. Which is to say, news coverage is more likely to bring Figueroa back home, safe and alive.

Yet, Holloway is still getting more press today than Figueroa. (A quick comparison search of Google News confirms this.) Sadly, the roughly 200 articles on Figueroa is a humongous improvement from a few days ago, when you could count the number of Figueroa articles on my two thumbs.

I didn't even hear about Figueroa until fellow bloggers pushed the story and cried foul to the networks. Perhaps this post is the first time you've heard her name, as well, which only further highlights the injustice at play.

Frankly, Figueroa's story is even more compelling and fit for television than Holloway's since she's pregnant (like Laci Peterson) and the mother of a young child. Both she and Holloway are young, female, and attractive.

The only obvious difference between them, of course, is that Figueroa is not white.

(credit: Dan Marcus)

* * *

On a related note, why is there still so much coverage of the London bombings and virtually no coverage of the Egypt bombings? Both were surprise terrorist attacks on foreign countries allied with the US, although the death toll was higher in Egypt.

Similarly, why is there so much coverage of the London bombings and virtually no coverage of the climbing death toll of either Iraqi civilians or US military in Iraq?

--Junichi

I FOUGHT THE LAW FIRM

The Practice, but without interesting cases or people

Last night, NBC dumped its latest reality show, "The Law Firm," to the resounding thud of thirty seven Americans too lazy to change the channel.

The show features twelve attorneys handling "real" cases to compete for a $250,000 prize. (The cases are "real" to the same extent that the litigation on the People's Court is real, which is to say that actual litigants settle their cases and stupidly agree to let a TV show arbitrate their dispute.)

It's always fun for me to watch lawyers argue in court, but most people will probably find this as dull as reading the legal notices buried in the local newspaper. Celebrity attorney Roy Black plays the Trump role, but he has far less charisma and presence than the Donald to sustain the show. As of the first episode, none of the attorneys had personalities strong enough to create any real drama or laughs; their trial blunders were the only entertainment. They need to live in the same house, learn ballroom dance, wallow in rat feces, swap spouses, and swim naked if they want to earn the ratings necessary to avoid being replaced with reruns of Law & Order: SWV.

Kelly, an Asian American female attorney, was one of the first two dismissed. Either through unfair editing or her own incompetence, she fit the horrendously inaccurate stereotype that Asian women are not fit and fierce enough to be litigators.

Sadly, in her exit interview, Kelly said she did her best and then said "I have no regrets."

I hereby implement the William Hung Rule for Asian American reality show contestants: Never say "I have no regrets." It's going to become a stereotype that clueless Asian people have no regrets. I'd hate to become the victim of a hate crime where my attacker is yelling "you have no regrets, bitch!"

* * *

For those who've known me since the last millennium, yes, this is, technically, that show I auditioned for and became a finalist for back in 2000, which was subsquently cancelled in 2001, but which was revived again this year with David E. Kelley attached. Yes, I received a call in 2004, letting me know that my name would be passed on to "Mr. Kelley," but I never heard back and I never followed up. It looks like they got Deep to fill my quota.

For those interested in the backstory, here below are my initial and very long observations about the audition process, written a few years ago, back when I was single, naive, and fresh out of law school. I only recommend reading it if you have absolutely nothing better to do.

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE READING...

My Reality TV Show Audition

In autumn 2000, while clerking for Judge Browning on the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, I received an email from Stanford Law School alumni services letting us Class of '99 alums know about a new TV show that a company called Renegade 83 Entertainment was developing. This company was seeking cast members for a show they pitched as "L.A. Law meets The Real World."

(Renegade 83 Entertainment, by the way, also produces the show Blind Date. This is the show where a man and a woman go on a blind date and we get to see what they're allegedly thinking in the form of a thought balloon. I saw one episode of Blind Date where a fairly well-endowed woman had thought balloons coming out of her chest. Classy.)

At the time, the concept for this "reality law show" was this: eight attorneys, of all different levels of experience, form a new law firm in Los Angeles. They actually practice law and try real cases. All clients/cases will be pre-selected by the studio. In exchange for free legal services, these clients waive their right to privacy and attorney-client privilege by having all conversations video-taped. More than likely, the cases will be settled in binding arbitration to obtain a quick and final decision, which would ensure that the nationally-broadcasted conversations not be used against them in future litigation.

However, the focus of the show will not just be on the legal developments, but, allegedly, the inter-office politics of the attorneys and any potential romances that develop. Attorneys will live in various houses paid for by the show and their entire lives will be captured on film.

Given my belief that the rest of the world could not possibly continue living without watching me trim my nose hairs on their boob tube once a week, I sent in my application.

I didn't hear back for several months. I assumed that the reality shows' ban on people of Japanese ancestry was still in effect.

Also, the application said they were seeking "attractive, interesting, smart" lawyers. I figure 2 out of 3 wasn't good enough, and "attractive to flies" didn't count.

Then, in January 2001, I receive a call from Greg Goldman, Renegade 83's Director of Development, notifying me that I made the first cut. Hooray! To qualify for the second cut, I was instructed to send in a 15-minute video tape of me being "myself" in front of the camera -- by the following week! Yikes! So, with the help of my bigtime pal Gary Chandler, I managed to make a video -- all in a single day's work.

Most of my audition video consists of me talking about myself, interspersed with clips of me on The Price is Right, playing music, and my dancing/singing cow act in the law school musical. I generally ignore the suggested list of "things to discuss if you can't think of anything to say or do." One of their suggestions, however, was to deliver a mock opening statement or closing argument. This, I decide to do.

So I write a humorous mock opening statement defending my fictional client, "Greg Goldman". But instead of just reading it in front of the camera, Gary and I find amusing San Francisco backdrops and he films me delivering the opening statement in a bunch of public places, completely unannounced. In a single afternoon, we manage to capture me delivering the statement to people on a MUNI Bus, inside Victoria's Secret, on the escalators of the San Francisco Shopping Centre, in McDonalds, on a cable car, at the entrance of an X-rated movie house, and in a public restroom. I send in the tape, hoping to make the second cut.

Weeks later, I get another call from Greg Goldman.

I make the second cut! He tells me he loved the video. Says it was the most hilarious audition tape he's seen.

I ask him how many people applied for the show and how many made the second cut. He tells me that over 700 people applied. And 25 were chosen for the second cut. I'm in the final 25!

I also ask him what television network picked up the show, in light of an article about the show in the Daily Journal, which claims that a "major network" has picked up the show. I think to myself that this show will air on UPN, at 2 a.m., if reruns of "Homeboys from Outer Space" are cancelled. Instead, he tells me that ABC will be airing the show. On PRIME TIME. And they've picked up at least 6 episodes, without a pilot.

ABC - PRIME TIME!

At this point, I'm giddy as a little girl on ecstasy. ABC and Renegade pay for my flight to Los Angeles to do a videotaped interview with the casting director, as well as the "Managing Partner" of the firm, Geoff Feiger. If you've never heard of Geoff, he's probably most well known for being Jack Kevorkian's lawyer. He also successfully brought a wrongful death suit against the Jenny Jones Show on behalf of the family of the gay man who was killed by a man to whom he expressed his secret love for on the show. Geoff Feiger is obviously a media hound who loves those high profile cases. In addition, he was the Democratic nominee in the Michigan gubernatorial race several years ago. (He lost.) Incidentally, his brother is a member of The Knack, the band most famous for the song "My Sharona."

So I fly to LA. My, classmate, friend and favorite Swedish blond in the world, Lina Ericsson, not only picks me up from LAX and hosts me the night before, but she also serves as my fashion consultant and insists on ironing out every shirt wrinkle.

The next morning, a Renegade 83 shuttle picks me up from the airport and takes us to this gorgeous, palacious home in Palos Verdes (the house where they film "Chains of Love," another quality show produced by Renegade 83 Entertainment). I quickly meet and hang out with all the other 24 finalists.

I predicted the other finalists there were going to be freaks or geeks with no interesting practice and a law degree from a mediocre school (e.g., San Bernadino Legal Academy, Long Beach Night School of Law, Yale Law School, etc.). As it turns out, the others are all very interesting, very smart, and very attractive. Crap! One guy looks just like Mike Tyson, except with no lisp. Another guy looks like Sylvester Stallone, except with a lisp. Another woman looks like Meg Ryan. Many work as DAs or Public Defenders. Some are sole practioners or serve in interesting public interest positions. I probably have the least interesting job, which fits nicely with my being the youngest (i.e., most inexperienced) person there and the only person who was seconds from conducting Beethoven's First Bowel Movement in my pants.

Many of them have fascinating stories. One woman is half-Jewish, half-Vietnamese, and model material. Her mother lived in Vietnam and was impregnated by an American GI who didn't know he fathered a child. For all her childhood, she knew nothing about her father. Finally, after spending her life tracking down her father, she finally meets him -- one year before his death. How am I supposed to beat this story? Talk about how I once got suspended in high school? The only edge I have on this woman is that she is happily married (read: BORING) and my breasts are slightly bigger.

It's now my turn to be videotaped.

The interview with Geoff Feiger goes great. The interview is conducted in pairs -- I was coupled with an intelligent, attractive, lesbian SF attorney, who was just like me, except for the part about being intelligent, attractive, or an attorney. He askes her which Ricky she prefers: Ricky Martin or Ricki Lake. She chooses Martin. He asks me the same question. I say, "I got one word for you: Schroeder." He seems to really enjoy my response. I think it's lame.

I do get in a good sound bite, however, about why my most recent dating experience ended. I state, "well, it eroded when we realized we weren't religiously compatible. She was Catholic and realized she needed somebody Catholic. Or if not Catholic, at least Christian. Or if not Christian, at least religious. Or if not religious, at least not anti-religious. Or if not anti-religious, at least not the anti-Christ." At the end of the interview, Geoff Feiger complements both of us on a fun and lively interview.

My interview with the casting director feels sub-par, however. I end up talking about some random topics: why I generally didn't date Asian people in my hometown ("Because I didn't want to date my cousin or my mom"), my tendency to judge potential dates by their CD collection ("If she owns any Counting Crows, forget it."), and my affliction with the incurable disease I've suffered with for the past several years -- I.A.S., also known as Itchy Ass Syndrome. Several times, I stare into the camera, with a face that says "what the hell am I talking about?"

I leave LA knowing that I wasn't supersized for the interview. I probably came up several fries short of a Happy Meal. Which is to say, I don't think I make the cut.

Greg tells the finalists that we should hear "in a few weeks."

A few weeks pass. No word.

Another few weeks pass. No word.

Finally, on April 9, 2001, I send Greg an email wondering whether I should interpret the weeks of silence as a sign that I didn't get chosen. I tell him that I need to make plans with regard to my job and potential summer activities, and wasn't sure whether to commit to anything before hearing from him.

FIVE MINUTES AFTER I SEND THE EMAIL, he calls me! And he tells me the following: First of all, the 25 finalists have been reduced to 15. And I am still in the running. (At this point, it took me every ounce of restraint to not scream in orgasmic joy.) Second of all, he tells me not to make any plans for the summer. Why? Because I am "seriously in the running." Third, he tells me that every single Renegade and ABC exec who watched my video tape and my video interview segments thought me "hilarious" and "loved me."

However, they can't make a decision yet, because in the group of finalists, they didn't get enough single people. He says, "everybody is either married or in a serious relationship ... except for you." To which I reply, "tell me about it!" And he drops a bombshell: they are going to conduct an additional search to try to get more single attorneys.

My heart sinks. This means that I'll just be competing with the rest of the world again. If they find four fabulous single people in this second search, for example, they have no reason or incentive to keep me. It's not like there's a seniority system and it's not like they've invested that much in me. (Sigh.) I think of drowning my sorrows in liters of Dr. Pepper.

However, he then proceeds to tells me, "oh, by the way, I think we found this hot Asian chick for you." The implication being that he's trying to find another single woman who is compatible with me to put on the show -- with hopes, obviously, that we hook up and have hot Asian children. Of course, I never indicated and never have had a preference for any racial category of women, but hey, who am I to be politically correct when Hollywood is trying to hook me up? He clearly seems to be operating under the assumption that I'm in like Flynn.

So, in sum, the worst possible perspective: I'm competing with the rest of the world again. Best possible outlook: Greg Goldman is conducting a nationwide search to find the ideal mate for me.

Two weeks later, Greg calls me again and leaves a voicemail message at work stating that they are very close to making a decision and I am very much in the running.

Very much in the running!

Score! Holy soiled briefs, Batman! If this actors' and writers' strike happens, I could be the replacement for Dylan McDermott. I have delusions of getting mentioned in Teen People.

Days later, I hear from a friend about her friend whose friend is a reporter with the New York Times and wants to interview me about the show. The New York Times! Before I agree, however, I am barely smart enough to ask Greg for permission; he tells me that ABC wants everybody to avoid any press until production begins. So no interview.

Does this mean I made it?

I wait on pins and needles, or, sometimes, pans of noodles.

Finally ...

I get a call from Greg Goldman.

May 8, 2001 A.D. at approximately 4 p.m. PST.

The entire casting process finally comes to an end.

He tells me two things:

First of all, all the directors, bigwigs, and executives who were involved in the casting process made a list of who they wanted in the 8-person cast. Apparently, they were unanimous in at least one of their picks: me. Greg says they were all in hysterics over my interview. No doubt on my being part of the cast.

Wow! I have delusions of being in a corner square on the "Reality Law Show" edition of Hollywood Squares. (What now, Jim J. Bullock?)

Second of all, he tells me the show has been cancelled.

The show was cancelled.

The show is cancelled.

It takes a good minute for this to sink in.

The show is kaput.

Yes, ABC pulled the plug. Competely. No plug residue left.

This is one outcome I never imagined. I thought I might be rejected from the outset. I thought I might get close, but be denied a cigar. I thought I might get on and become the next Asian American male television star. Actually, the only Asian American male telvision star. I thought I might get on the show, but no episode would air because ABC would realize that lawyers' lives are generally uninteresting. I thought I might get asked to be an expert witness on gynocomastia.

I never thought I would make the FINAL CUT, and then find out in the same conversation that the show was cancelled.

I should have seen this coming, however, when the writers' strike was settled (making it likely the actors' strike will settle, and thereby restoring next season's original programming). Clearly, the studios have less need to hedge their bets by developing every reality law concept in sight.

Apparently, ABC was also concerned with some of the legal or ethical aspects of the show. I don't blame them.

So Greg says it's "95% dead." NBC and ABC previously engaged in a bidding war over the show. NBC obviously lost the bidding, but as a result, they started production on a competing reality law show where they follow around District Attorneys in their jobs. So as a result of this show, NBC is out of the question, and it's unlikely CBS, FOX, or UPN will bite, based on previous negotiations. While there is still some possibility that it might get picked up (especially if the actors' strike goes forth), Greg made it crystal clear that nobody should assume the show would happen. Greg himself sounded very depressed and distraught.

Unfortunately, this is the end of the story.

So no reality TV life for me. (Hank, you can stop working on developing the first Junichi fansite.)

But strangely, I receive satisfaction from the fact that I effectively made the final cut. I feel like I placed my self-esteem on the line and put my ego in a defenseless and vulnerable place to see whether others could be convinced (as I was) that I could seriously deliver, if chosen. And I now know that others recognized I had something to offer.

No doubt, however, I'm disappointed.

But I have no regrets!

--Junichi

JUDGE ROBERTS IS A JUDICIAL HOTTIE!

Now is a superb time to get that abortion you've been putting off.

The media describes Supreme Court nominee John Roberts as "cute" and "sexy" and a "dashing ... judicial hottie." The Daily Show, usually reliable for criticizing the press, even calls him "Judge Cutie." Frankly, I think he looks more like a creepy neighbor that molests your poodle when you leave for vacation.

But why is the media focusing more on his handsome face and his polite personality, instead of his controversial views? And why is anybody pretending not to know where Roberts stands on the ideological spectrum?

Apparently, the press is waiting until after the hearings. Many have noted, including commenters to this post, that his work as a lawyer in the Justice Department & White House, as well as his organizational memberships, doesn't necessarily tell us about his own personal views.

But his individual, non-"client"-mandated opinions are out there to analyze in the form of thousands of released pages of his individual work product. Today's NY Times analyzed his internal memos as follows:

"On almost every issue he dealt with where there were basically two sides, one more conservative than the other, the documents ... show that Judge Roberts ... advocated the more conservative course. Sometimes, he took positions even more conservative than those of his prominent superiors. He favored less government enforcement of civil rights laws rather than more. He criticized court decisions that required a thick wall between church and state. He took the side of prosecutors over criminal defendants. He maintained that the role of the courts should be limited and the president's powers enhanced."

He also wrote that affirmative action programs were bound to fail because they required "the recruiting of inadequately prepared candidates."

These aren't positions he took on behalf of the US government. Rather, these were his own opinions that he advocated to his superiors.

Furthermore, while his wife's opinions may be different from his, I find it illuminating that Roberts' wife was the board of directors for the anti-abortion group Feminists for Life of America from 1995-1999 and still provides pro bono legal counsel for them. This group has filed multiple briefs challenging the constitutionality of abortion. If you believed in reproductive freedom, would you marry someone who is working to ban abortions? Ok, but what if she wasn't that hot?

Those on the left have been comforting themselves with his previous statement: "There's nothing in my personal views that would prevent me from fully and faithfully applying [Roe v. Wade]."

But Roberts said this when he was being considered for the federal court of appeals! A federal appellate judge is required to apply precedent. As a DC Circuit judge, he has no power or authority to overturn SCOTUS opinions like Roe v. Wade. On the other hand, as a Supreme Court Justice, he would be sitting in the only court in the land that has the authority to overturn SCOTUS precedent.

Even if he pinky-promises to apply Roe v. Wade as a Supreme Court Justice, his commitment doesn't stop him from weakening or chipping away at it.

Indeed, all the available evidence suggests that Roberts would gladly uphold anti-abortion laws.

Also, why is everybody pretending that his membership in the Federalist Society doesn't matter? While federalism as a philosophy may reflect different ideologies, the Federalist Society itself has taken extremely conservative positions, most obviously evidenced by its vehement opposition to abortion.

The Post reports that: "Many key policymakers in the Bush administration are acknowledged current or former members. ... In conservative circles, membership in or association with the society has become a badge of ideological and political reliability."

Most revealingly, Roberts declined Monday to say why he was listed in a steering committee of the Federalist Society and he allegedly has no recollection of belonging to the conservative group. Whatever. If leadership or membership in the Federalist Society doesn't suggest a political bent, then why is Roberts and the White House trying to hide it?

Do you think the GOP wouldn't care if a Democratic nominee were an ACLU member?

Finally, why hasn't a single senator indicated his or her initial opposition to Roberts? Even if they only examine positions he's taken in the solicitor general's office, he was nonetheless the individual who drafted the White House's arguments for overturning Roe v. Wade and allowing prayer in public schools.

It seems principled for a Senator to oppose the nomination of a Supreme Court candidate who has advocated reversing decades of that Court's long-standing reproductive and church/state laws ... even if the hearings haven't begun.

Get a spine, Democrats! Don't be swayed by his judicial hotness!

--Junichi

ANGER MANAGEMENT AND MORE

you want my towel? you can't handle my towel!
Not only do I not get out for live shows much at all, but that goes gazilliony true for arena-sized shows. Prior to attending the Anger Management Show in San Jose the other week, the last rap show of comparable size was back when the Beastie Boys were on the Hello Nasty tour and came through the Oakland Coliseum, back around 1997 or so. As much of a spectacle as that was, it was like a low budget baby birthday party compared to Anger Management (AM) which is, by far, the most elaborate rap concert I've seen yet. I was sent there to review the show for XXL. A few observations and perspectives:

1. Since moving to the Bay Area in 1990, I've lived in Berkeley, North Oakland, and now, the Sunset. As anyone who is familiar with these neighborhoods can tell you, they might be "diverse" in terms of not being racially monolithic, but in many other ways, they're all very much homogenous, especially when it comes to the kind of white people you see. In S.F., for example, the city is overrun by either hipster or hippies (I'm generalizing but...not really).

Going to San Jose for this show reminded me that there's a much bigger variety of white folk outside of the immediate, urban Bay Area. Like guys who look like Fred Durst and women who dress like Britney Spears, or at least listen to either artist. Yes, I realize, I live a sheltered life in my little island, separated from the mainland/stream of suburbia U.S.A. (This is not coincidental).

2. Lil Jon and the Eastside Boyz were first up - I walked in somewhere around the middle of their set. There was a giant caricature of Jon in the back, his big head wagging, complete with shades and gold fronts. To the left of this crunktacular puppet was the pimp cup and I'm pretty sure there were some 22s on the left (but I couldn't quite tell from where we were sitting). Highlights: Pitbull came on stage for a few songs and had what sounded like the whole audience chanting along with him in Spanish during his choruses. Lowlights: Jon and the Boyz performed the Yin Yang Twins' "Wait," and one of the hypemen had his belt unbuckled and was swinging the loose end like it was his penis. Not a good look.

3. Once Jon was done and G-Unit's set prep began, they killed time by running a series of G-Unit ads and infommercials on the video monitors flanking the stage. There were plugs for Tony Yayo's new album, Olivia's new album, the G-Unit Reebok line, G-Unit wristwatches, G-Unit clothing, G-Unit tax preparation services, G-Unit annuity funds, you name it.

4. The G-Unit set was clearly inspired by Escape From New York and was easily the most eye-catching of the three. 50 didn't step to stage - he leaped from the second floor ledge of the backdrop, help up by wires, with a full pyrotechnic display exploding behind him. In fact, the whole f---in' evening, they'd set off these mega-loud explosions, apparently to destroy whatever was left from our ear drums from all the deafening music. My man Todd Inoue compared it to the firecracker scene from Boogie Nights.

5. If you were a G-Unit fan, then this was your show to go to. Not only was Fiddy performing, but so did Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, Tony Yayo, Olivia plus recent signees like Mobb Deep and M.O.P.

5a. During Young Buck's performance, he had a long monologue about enjoying some San Jose purple and he exhorted for the rest of the audience to light 'em up, which this guy behind us did. This young dude and his girlfriend next to us asked if they could take a hit, which they did...only to have security bear down on them a minute later and kick them out. Oops.

5b. Time has not treated either Prodigy or Havoc well. Those dudes look like 28 going on 58.

6. The problem with the G-Unit set is that it ran at least 15-20 minutes too long and just couldn't sustain consistent audience interest with the seven or so different folks performing. 50 tried to bring things back at the end with a medley of songs from the first album but by then, it felt too little, too late.

7. It didn't help things that Eminem's set took at least an hour to set up and once unveiled, it wasn't particularly impressive. It was a series of doors mounted on top of a projection screen. Em had some silly video footage of him pretending to be contemplating suicide which was incredibly contrived, but I admit, he knows how to work a crowd, stepping to stage rapping "Evil Deeds" and connecting with the audience in a direct, intimate way that I never felt like 50 did. 50 is a preener and a very good one at that but Em has a subtler intensity.

8. Then again, in addressing the rumors about his retirement, Em decided to pull his pants down, give the crowd a full shot of his Emin-ass, and then tell folks to, "get their facts right" or something to that effect. The ladies loved it. Luckily, a stage speaker blocked my view of the pale moon.

9. Em mostly performed songs off the new album, which makes sense except for the fact that Encore was filled with really slow, monotonous beats (think "Mosh") which might work once or twice, but building a concert set of songs around them means just hitting the audience with the same, lumbering pace. You could actually feel how listless the audience was after a while, especially as Eminem's set dragged over an hour long. It's very hard to get all that hyped up for "Puke."

10. As for D12, Stat Quo and Obie Trice, after the G-Unit revue, Em's sidekicks couldn't remotely muster the same excitement, though Bizarre is nothing if not entertaining, coming to stage with pink-dyed hair and a shag, pink vest with a poodle on it. By the end of Em's set, the crowd was just plain tired but the saving grace was Em's encore - "Lose Yourself" - which was the perfect way to close by bringing the audience's energy level all the way back. All that was left was a cloud of exploding glitter and the evening was over.

---

ELSEWHERE

MUSIC

• The Game gets invited to rap for Prince Harry, boasts about showing the Queen his "royal jewels."
  
  
• Anotated discography of New Orleans' Eddie Bo, complete with label scans. Scary complete.
  
  
• Canadian story on the digital DJing which draws some strange conclusions, including: "I don't think the clubbers should have to go see the DJ. The DJ should come see the clubbers." Uh, if that works for you, fine...but most of the DJs I know (myself) included, would love to have greater barriers between us and obnoxious, drunk club-goers who keep requesting the same song 20 times over.
  
  
• I interviewed Dante Ross for Wax Poetics and in there, he basically called the rap group H2O (who he once produced for) "weak." H2O barks back at Dante.
  
  
• Hua Hsu on R. Kelly. To wit: "Whereas decorum compels romantic singers to convey their feelings using puffed up terms like "lust" or "desire," Kelly comes across as a plain and desperately horny man."
  
  
• Blog alert: The Bay Finta Blow by Oliver Monday who is not actually, you know, me. I'm Oliver Thursday, thank you very much.
  
  
• "Kanye urges rock fans to buy his records", since, like, he likes Jon Mayer and what not. Ever the humblest: "If you have a White Stripes album or a Franz Ferdinand album, you should also have a Kanye West album," says West.

TECH

• A story about bloggers talking about blogging and bloggers. Better known as a clusterf---. What is truly entertaining about this article - which includes many of Poplicks' favorite bloggerati - is how self-depricating bloggers are about blogging even though they still blog. Example, here's Village Voice music blogger Nick Sylvester: "Everywhere I looked, some blogger was talking to another blogger, probably about sweet new blogs, pointing out that the DJ was a blogger himself. If you screamed ‘Free wireless! Over here!’ my guess is half the room would have emptied out, just to blog about finding free wireless."
  
  
• Everyone's on the hunt for the next iPod killer.

FILM

• Jeff Chang and Sylvia Chan smash on Crash.

  --O.W.

A MESSAGE FROM LANCE ARMSTRONG'S EX-WIFE

Oh yay! Lance wins his 7th Tour de France! Lance is an American hero! Well where is my magazine cover? While Lance was out chomping on fromage and sipping wine during breaks between biking through the French countryside, I've been changing his three kids' diapers -- without the help of a professional support team!

Everyone yaps about his yellow jerseys, but what about my yellow sweaters? My V-necks were originally white, but now they're yellow because our freaking kids -- Luke, Isabelle, and Grace -- keep peeing on me.

Nobody seems to care about my time trial victories! For four years, I pumped three gallons of breast milk per day! And what recognition did I get? I got a little "Kristin's Corner" on his website. Yeah, I got my own corner. Just like a f^@king prostitute.

And then he divorces me! And now I don't even have a corner!

Am I bitter? Hell to the yes! See, I liked Lance back when he was only winning pink 6th place ribbons for Austin's annual Schwinn-sponsored training-wheel race. Back when guys with bike pants were never considered sexy. Back when he had two balls. Oh, but once he started winning the big tournaments and beating his cancer, suddenly, I wasn't good enough!

Apparently, I have to be a multi-Grammy winning, former Michael Jackson backup singer in order to be good enough to hug him at the trophy ceremony. Everday may be a winding road for Sheryl, but it's a child-rearing road to Prozac and Jack Daniels for me. Everytime I see that tramp kissing him in his Postal Service jersey, all I wanna do is have some fun and go postal on them!

Now, at the decrepit age of 33, he's retiring and collecting checks from product endorsements! What a lazy bastard. I still have to work another 30 years! Well America, instead of buying yellow wristbands from UniBall's LiveStrong charity, maybe you can purchase some wristbands from my LiveBitter organization. All the bands are genuine yellow from Lance Armstrong's abandoned children's urine!

(with thanks to Yanna B.)

--Junichi

QUESTION OF THE WEEK #16

What I hum when I can't sleep

This Week's Question:

If you were in hell, what commercial or commercial jingle would be playing over and over?

--Junichi

ME & YOU & EVERYONE WE KNOW LIKE HAPPY ENDINGS

Everyone wants one.

I detest romantic comedies. Any genre of film that demands encores of Meg Ryan or Hugh Grant deserves to be maimed.

Hence it's nearly impossible for me to find a film that presents both romantic optimism and comic observations in a manner remotely resembling fresh. But to my amazement, I just watched two, one after the other.

Happy Endings and Me and You and Everyone We Know provide humongous breaths of fresh air in yet another suffocating summer of stale sequels and brainless blockbusters.

How good are they? It's way too early in the year but I'd like to nonetheless offer, for your consideration, these two films for multiple Oscar nominations.

Happy Endings, written and directed by Don Roos (who also wrote/directed the brilliant The Opposite of Sex) is yet another intertwining multiple-storyline ensemble film about frustrated and disattached people in L.A. Unfortunately, with a flawed script and several characters whose motivations escape me, the film isn't on par with its cinematic cousins: Crash, Magnolia, and Short Cuts.

But Lisa Kudrow (yes, that Lisa Kudrow) delivers a comic/tragic turn that transcends every other performance this year. (My bias against Kudrow as a legitimate actress was so strong that it took me a week before I finally conceded to myself how stunning she was.)

Maggie Gyllenhaal (whose haunting Billy Joel karaoke cover remains stuck in my head), Jason Ritter (the late John Ritter's doppelganger son), and Tom Arnold (yes, that Tom Arnold) also provide stellar supporting performances. Call me a meth addict, but I think the phrases -- "Best Actress Lisa Kudrow" and "Best Supporting Actor Tom Arnold" -- might come to pass one day.

Similarly swimming with lonely souls is actress/writer/director/performance artist Miranda July's indie debut - Me and You and Everyone We Know. I don't have much to say about this poetic ode to human connections in the digital age that hasn't already been said. It's only July but I'd comfortably place the film in my list of 2005 Best Picture nominees and give Ms. July a writing and directing nod for a film equal parts funny and moving, and altogether perfect.

To reward those who have seen the latter film, I offer the following secret message:

))<>((

Back and forth. Forever.

--Junichi

MPS = THE NEW NYPD?

killed over a bad jacket?
So how badly did London's Metropolitan Police Service f*** up last week? As the BBC and other news orgs are reporting the guy who got chased down, knocked down and then had five shots pumped into him (while he was dog-piled on, mind you) turned out to be not remotely a bomber but a Brazilian national wearing an unseasonably heavy jacket and who had the misfortune to run when confronted with paranoid Brit cops. Who else is having very bad flashbacks to 41 shots?

Apologists are predictably going to chime, "well, if he was innocent, why did he run?" Why is this always the chorus from people who think that fear of police = admission of guilt?

Alas, there's some unfortunate dumb s*** being said on the other side. This comes from the victim's cousin: "How could they have confused and killed a light-skinned person who had no resemblance at all to an Asian?" So, just to get this right...if your cousin had looked more "Asian," then getting popped five times in the back would have been more understandable?

--O.W.

EVERY SPERM IS SACRED

The Buffalo Bills win the Super Bowl!

Nothing excites/incites me more than when fundamentalist religious leaders discuss sex and sex education.

Jimmy Swaggart set the bar when he proclaimed that "sex education classes in our public schools are promoting incest."

Jerry Falwell raised it after he stated that "AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals; it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals."

But the most amusing passages stem from those advising young people. For example, Mormon leader Mark E. Petersen wrote a guide called Steps in Overcoming Masturbation that suggests: "When the temptation to masturbate is strong, yell 'Stop!' to those thoughts as loudly as you can in your mind and then recite a prechosen Scripture or sing an inspirational hymn."

Perhaps Mr. Petersen wasn't aware that young people could buy a masturband, a black bracelet that functions as a reverse scarlet letter by signifying that the wearer has refrained from pumping at the self-service station.

But all of this pales in comparison to the wisdom of the Density Church, which, according to its website, is a community of "Happy-clapping Children of God."

On the church's website's section on Bible Answers, church leader Brian Tamariki answers the following question from 14-year-old Robert Rakiti:

The other night, while I was asleep, I had a nocturnal emission. I woke up to discover a wet patch. I had no control over this obviously, because I was asleep. But I felt a lot of guilt about it afterwards, and wondered if having a nocturnal emission is a sin? Should I ask for forgiveness for this?

Tamariki responds:

Thanks for your question, Robert. Your sense of guilt is for a very good reason. Having a nocturnal emission is a sin, and is just as much a sin as killing someone - even though it is completely involuntary.

Quoting Leviticus, he further admonishes that if you "spit your semen at anyone else lying near you," that person becomes just as unclean. He wisely advises -- "You don't want to be spat upon by an unclean ejaculator!" - which, coincidentally, is the title of my forthcoming motivational lecture series.

Awesome! This church is off the Dick Cheney! (credit: DH)

--Junichi

A BARNEY IN THE HAND IS WORTH TWO IN THE BUSH

A spoonful of cocaine makes the medicine go down

Here's a video remix of the most recent Bush inauguration speech, which is almost as brilliant as this classic cut-up of an earlier Bush State of the Union address.

While both of these political edit jobs are clever, neither is as incongruent and dissonant as this mashup video of Barney and friends performing a 2Pac song. I love you, you love me! Grab your glocks, all eyez on me! (Not safe for work, unless your employer prefers violent lyrics about fornicating with others' spouses.)

Of course, no clip makes me spill soy milk out my nose like this previously-posted video of Dominic Errazo at the National Spelling Bee where he channels Napoleon Dynamite, live on ESPN, before spelling the word correctly. A dozen viewings later, it's still hilarious to me.

--Junichi

SUPREME COURT JUSTICE JOHN G. ROBERTS?

Your uterus is in my hands.

By nominating D.C. Circuit Judge John G. Roberts Jr. to replace Justice O'Connor, President Bush is sending the message that his highest priority is to kiss up to his hardline reactionary zealots base with the same passion that the rest of us Americans are invited to kiss his inner cheeks.

Well-connected to the GOP and right-wing organizations, Roberts, who has only been a judge for two years, has the conservative credentials to make Pat Robertson and the Klan proud.

Judge Roberts is a strict constructionist, evidenced by his membership in the Federalist Society, which includes such petrifying people like Justice Scalia, Justice Thomas, Ann Coulter, Ken Starr, Robert Bork, Linda Chavez, Orrin Hatch, and John Ashcroft.

While working as White House counsel and a former deputy solicitor (for Ken Starr!), Roberts advocated a hard-line anti-civil rights policy that opposed affirmative action. He also would have made it nearly impossible for people of color to prove a violation of the Voting Rights Act and would have essentially (further) resegregated public schools. The jury is still out on whether he finds slavery unconstitutional.

A practicing Catholic, Roberts also has taken super-anti-choice positions in two Supreme Court cases, one that severely restricted the ability of poor women to gain information about abortion services, and another that took away a key means for women to access clinics and combat anti-abortion nutbags.

As Deputy Solicitor General, Roberts argued in a brief before the Supreme Court that "we continue to believe that Roe was wrongly decided and should be overruled. The Court's conclusion in Roe that there is a fundamental right to an abortion...finds no support in the text, structure, or history of the Constitution."

He also has filed an amicus curiae brief in support of Operation Rescue and individuals who routinely blocked access to clinics. The brief argued that the protesters' behavior did not discriminate against women and that blockades and clinic protests were protected speech under the First Amendment.

He has also taken positions in legal publications or briefs arguing:

• that more religion in public schools does not violate the Establishment Clause
• that anti-flag burning laws do not conflict with the First Amendment
• that environmental lawsuits should be limited
• that criminal defendants' rights can be crippled

I am generalizing, but not over-exaggerating. This nominee is far more reactionary than I ever would have predicted.

As I surf between the evening news shows, the pundits keep emphasizing that Roberts' professional positions as an advocate may not reflect his personal views, but all signs suggest that Roberts is a flaming good ol' boy reactionary.

If you've been waiting to pick and choose your battles, this is the one to pick. No matter where you stand on the political spectrum, your comrades have been waiting 11 years to see the Court lean your way.

As a young 50 year old (I think Justice Stevens is 85) with lifetime tenure on the highest court in the land, John Roberts will affect our rights long after Bush leaves office and perhaps long after he's reinstalled the feeding tubes to our decrepit comatose bodies.

For the sake of our children and the future of this country, it's on, W. (And don't think you're going to distract me from the fact that Karl Rove lied to the FBI!)

*

Breaking news: Bush chose his nominee by considering their exercise habits! One of the candidates he didn't pick apparently failed to do his doctor-recommended cross-training. Your honor, how much can you bench?

--Junichi

COMMON IN URB

Rapper Common is the topic,
you know we gonna rock it,
O-Dub represents,
read my interview when I drop it.

Two choice quotes:

URB: These days, it seems like most rappers treat the label “conscious” like a kiss of death. They want to distance themselves from it.

C: When they started saying that to me I was defensive the first time like “why do they have to label me that?” Then I started looking more throughout music history and you look at the artists they say are conscious, then I am proud to be called that. You’re looking at Bob Marley, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, KRS-ONE. That lineage right there? Okay, call me conscious. When you look back in history, if I’m labeled as a conscious rapper it’s going to mean something. More than the booty shake rappers.


URB: Electric Circus took hard knocks from the critics and more importantly, a lot of your fans say it’s their least favorite of your albums. Do you think you were unfairly judged on that album?

C: I don’t think it was unfairly judged. People have their opinions and they’re going to feel what the feel. I think it was a case of me coming through the door with a certain look and a certain feel. I think I took a big jump. And what’s funny is people say to me “Why did Ahmir [aka the Roots’ ?uest Love] and them give you that music?” And I be like, “Look, they don’t give me nothing that I don’t already ask for.” Ahmir used to ask me, “You sure you want to go this far? You’re taking them all the way to the end.” But I guess I wanted to because I knew this was a new beginning. I had to get to this new beginning. That was the end of that chapter and I don’t apologize. I won’t say it’s the perfect record but I feel like it was some good work.

--O.W.

SNOW YELLOW

Mirror Mirror On The Great Wall ...

Each time Walt Disney Studios releases yet another animation featuring a racial or ethnic group, a new group of Americans suffer because of its historical inaccuracies, cultural appropriation, and stereotypes sung to catchy Alan Menken melodies.

Just as Pocahontas serves as most children's primary source of Native American history, Aladdin is the genesis of my generation's (mis)understanding of Arab culture ("It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home"), which then gets transposed onto everyone from Iran, India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and any other place perceived to have magic lamps and pet monkeys (Neverland Ranch excluded).

The only good thing about characters like Mulan or the "Africans" and "Chicanos" in The Lion King is that it provides job opportunities for voiceover talent and parade actors of color. (A Pilipino friend of mine broke into Hollywood when she was chosen to play Pocahontas in the Disneyland Main Street parade.)

So when Disney announces that its next animated film will feature hunchbacks or mermaids, Jamaicans and Native Hawaiians everywhere breathe a sigh of relief.

Hence it is now with great sadness that I announce that Disney is making a new film version of Snow White where her seven dwarves will be Shaolin monks. This is bad news for Chinese, Asians in general, and monks. Good news for dwarves.

I wish this were a joke. But Yuen Wo-Ping (fight choreographer for Drunken Master, the Matrix, and Crouching Tiger) will be directing Disney's forthcoming Snow and the Seven, a martial arts epic that remakes Snow White and replaces the seven dwarves with kung fu monks.

Is anybody here going to pay $10 to watch Prince Charming replaced by Prince Chao Ming? Or worse, for Snow Yellow to wake up from the kiss of a blond-hair capitalist?

Ok, I may not be able to resist, either. This is destined to be a camp classic.

If this is successful, we can all expect the following Disney remakes: Emperor Akihito's New Groove, Alice in Pakistan, 101 Malaysians, Beauty and the East. I could go on.

But if this just ends up creating another generation of stereotypes in song, guess where I'm going to go with my flame-thrower and jug of gasoline?

I'm going to Disneyland!

--Junichi

QUESTION OF THE WEEK #15

14 Shots to the Half Dome

This Week's Question:

What image should have appeared on the new California quarter (instead of John Muir being attacked by a giant Condor in front of Half Dome in Yosemite Valley)?

--Junichi

RAVING RANDOMS

middle kingdom, not middle earth
VISUALS

• Fans of the Thai action flick Ong Bak can soon catch more of Tony "Wire-Fu Is For Pansies" Jaa in his upcoming film, Tom-Yum-Goong, a period melodrama based loosely on Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, set in the bucolic countryside of 19th century Thailand. There's no fighting but apparently, there are some nice sonnets. You can hear some of the poetry when you watch the trailer.
  
  
• Designer Eugene Kuo has put up a kick ass site of his photography. That's one of his pictures of China above and he also covers Turkey, Syria, Japan, France, Peoria, etc. (Ok, not really Peoria but I'm sure that will be soon).

MUSIC

• The Village Voice's Nick Sylvester rings the death knell for Live 8. My favorite line: "Every three seconds, a child dies in Africa from hunger," explained the Fresh Prince, who then waited three seconds and snapped his fingers symbolically, then waited another three and did it again (and again, and again, etc.). Then he got the crowd on that for a minute, staring grimly down the camera and hoping we knew from his face that he, who on this very day in 1996 co-led a defensive against aliens destroying planet Earth, was dead fucking serious.
  
  
• Eric Arnold writes on Lyrics Born for the East Bay Express.
  
  
• Monkeyfunk interviews Steinski, one of the nicest dudes you'll ever meet (and oh yeah, he makes cool music too).
  
  
• The Arabic Assassin loses his job at the airport. Houstonsoreal, indeed.

SCIENCE

• Those wacky Freakonomics dudes take on child seat safety in the NY Times Magazine and determine that sometimes, a seat belt will work just as well as those fancy-schmanzy car seats that over-anxious parents drop Franklins on.
  
  
• Annalee Newitz looks at a pressing, push-button (*nudge nudge*) issue in human sexuality and corporate pharmaceutical interests: how to sell the female orgasm. Forget Viagra for women - they're trying to engineer orgasms in a pill, no faking necessary. Resist the temptation to snicker - this is a great example of science journalism (not surprising since it appears in Wired) that isn't just interesting but illuminating on how the quest to understand women's orgasms brings together a collision of cultural, social, business and scientific values and interests.

RACE

• Black and Latino students face off in an L.A. high school. Given that the changing demographics of California schools is at least one of the factors involved in some of these tensions, the next 10 years will be a proving ground for how well community folk and school officials will be able to keep tensions from flaring again.

  --O.W.

MORE RANDOM RAVES

Will the Asian spellers please choose a number divisible by seven?

MUSIC VIDEOS

• Since the election is over, Eminem's video for "Mosh" has been updated with a new ending. John Edwards and Dennis Kucinich have never looked cuter. Peep the last 60 seconds.

• The Decemberists channel UN Ambassador nominee/bully John Bolton in their "16 Military Wives" video, which finally unites MTV and Model UN.

• With a repertoire that includes a song about intercourse near butter rolls and tossed salads, R. Kelly is the very definition of self-parody. But "Trapped in the Closet (Chapters 1-5)" is genius dot com. Has there ever in the history of music been an epic five-chapter song-video-soap opera? Especially one about a gay minister and speeding tickets, with no hook, written by an accused child pornographer who married Aaliyah when she was only 15? Yes, the lyrics are often cringeworthy: "I closed my mouth and swallowed spit / And I'm thinking to myself, 'This is some deep shit!" But the narrative is more compelling than a four-Hummer freeway collision; I couldn't take my eyes away.

TV

• Check out Morgan Spurlock's 30 Days on the FX channel. The episode where a Christian guy stays in a Muslim family's house was so necessary and informative that I nominate it to be mandatory viewing in our country. (Two complaints, however: they depict the prophet Muhammad, which is a no-no in Islam, and they don't do a great job differentiating Muslim from Arab from "Middle Eastern.")

• I'm officially sold on HBO's Entourage. While some of last season's episodes reeked of a guys-on-the-hunt-for-Pootie-Tang frat-cam show, the characters are more fully developed this season and the writing has considerably sharpened. I loved that line from last Sunday's episode where Drama defends his choice to do a Valtrex commercial by bragging that the make-up girl went down on him before she put the cold sores on. C'mon, that's funny.

• I'm not afraid to admit that I watched VH1's Strip Search, a reality show about 15 guys who compete for the chance to be in a Vegas male revue troupe that is the American version of 'The Thunder from Down Under.' It's refreshing to watch men go through body image issues, for a change. I nominate robotic pscyhopath Johnny Marco for the reality tv character hall of fame.

BOOKS

• Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney's Humor contains comic gold. I wish I had written Tom Ruprecht's "It's Not Actually a Small World."

STAGE

• Upon initial reflection, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee on Broadway just felt like a really funny two-hour skit. But in retrospect, the writing was exceptionally clever and the ensemble cast's comic timing was impeccable. Featuring characters like Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre (the adopted daughter of two gay parents) and William Barfee (who spells with his magic foot), this musical engenders huge laughs out of adolescent anxiety. Except for Avenue Q and The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?, I've never had such a good time at the theatre.
  

• In this video, Kenny Muhammad is the featured solo musician performing with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. What instrument does he play? He beatboxes. Fresh. (credit: KayZee)

--Junichi

WILL THE DIRTIEST JOKE EVER TOLD BE BANNED IN THE USA?

The next great movie about free speech?

As somebody who thinks comedy should be studied more seriously, I can't wait to see the buzzed-about documentary, The Aristocrats, which features 102 famous comedians -- including George Carlin, Sarah Silverman, Jon Stewart, Phyllis Diller, Eric Idle, Whoopi Goldberg, Steven Wright, Andy Richter, and The Onion (!), to name a few -- telling the same 'dirtiest joke ever told.'

In the movie, this oft-repeated joke about an obscene family act, handed down from the comics in the vaudeville era, gets performed differently by each comedian.

The problem is that this brilliantly-conceived documentary may not be coming soon to a theater near you. The AMC theater chain made a "business decision" not to show the doc on any of its thousands of screens, denying that it's engaged in corporate censorship. AMC's ban is undoubtedly a cowardly move and a decision as poor as its selection of the tapeworm-looking filmstrip as its ubiquitous mascot. C'mon, Mr. Tapeworm, let America watch!

Of course, the content will probably disgust or outrage many. Once you see the South Park creators' (Trey Parker & Matt Stone) disquieting contribution to the film, you might easily conclude it's as filthy and offensive as a film can get without showing blood or buggery.

You can view the main trailer for the film here. Click here for the film's website.

--Junichi

GIMME SIX REASONS

This little piggy went to Pink Cheeks

• Another Reason Not To Move To L.A.: You want to bleach what part of your body?

• Another Reason Not To Insult the Motor in the Back of Your Wife's Honda: Brooklyn newlywed Judy Castillo-Thomas was just acquitted of manslaughter, after being accused of stabbing Jason Thomas, her husband of three weeks, to death. While Mr. Thomas physically abused his wife, it was his insult that her butt was "too small" that allgedly sent her over the edge. Needless to say, Mr. Thomas likes big butts and he cannot lie live. Welcome home, chickens.

• Another Reason To Learn To Say You're Sorry: Before Japanese customers can eat in a Chinese restaurant in the Chinese city of Jilin, they must apologize for their country's wartime occupation of China. Political activism at its tastiest.

• Another Reason Not To Piss The Wrong Guy Off: In an obvious act of vengeance, somebody sent out dozens of letters to a Ontario man's employer and neighbors, claiming that he is wanted in Mexico for indecent exposure and the attempted rape of a cow. Fortunately for the defamed man, the Daily Bulletin reported that the allegations are entirely false. Unfortunately, I suspect that the Daily Bulletin is a one-page bulletin ignored every morning during home room at a high school nowhere near Ontario.

• Another Reason Why Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction: Do you remember that ridiculous scene in My Big Fat Greek Weddding where Aunt Voula says to Ian's parents:

You family now, so I tell you a story. All my life, I have this lump on the back of my neck, right here. When I reach the menopause, the lump get bigger. I go to the doctor, and he did the bio .. the bios .. the bobopsy. Inside the lump, he finds teeth and a spinal cord. Yes. Inside the lump ... was my twin.

If so, you'll trip, as much as I did, over how doctors in Bangladesh just removed a long-dead fetus -- complete with limbs and all -- from the abdomen of a 16-year-old boy who was complaining of stomach pains. (credit: f*bomb)

• Finally, here are three more reasons why FM radio will die soon (in addition to corporate consolidation, shrinking playlists, and the future that is podcasts, audioblogs, and Sirius satellite radio):

1. Stupid radio promotions. After being promised $100,000 in an on-air contest, WLTO listener Norreasha Gill was only given a Nestle's 100 Grand candy bar. She sued.
2. Unbearable morning shows. Wild 94.9 in SF fired their "Morning Doghouse" crew a few weeks ago for sexually harassing comments. Their replacement? Rick Delgado, the recently-fired author of Hot 97's Tsunami Song that mocked the tsunami victims as "screaming chinks." By bringing him to the bay, Clear Channel clearly knows how to hit the APA population hardest. To take action, click here.
3. Even Berkeley, famous for its independent radio, is imploding. KPFA seems to be in the midst of a hostile work environment meltdown and the FCC just pulled the plug on Berkeley Liberation Radio. Stay strong, KALX!

--Junichi

RED ROVER, SEND KARL ROVE RIGHT OVER TO PRISON

K-Rova = Soon to be Locked Up

While I have not yet drowned in my own drool, I continue to gush saliva over the likely prospect that White House Deputy Chief of Staff and GOP mastermind Karl Rove will be fired, and possibly, imprisoned.

For starters, the media is finally grilling the White House over Karl Rove's involvement in the Valerie Plame expose, as if the press corps just realized they're not part of the executive branch of government. CNN is certainly making up for lost time by comparing this scandal to Watergate.

Both Bush and McClellan remain silent as mimes in a vegetative state with regard to whether Rove was involved, whether he will be fired, and whether Rove and Cheney descend from the same line of balding vampires.

But their silence is practically a confession of guilt since Newsweek, among other places, is reporting that Rove is, in fact, the source of the Plame revelation.

The consequence? BushCo is on record for stating that leaking Ms. Plame's identity would be considered a firing offense by the White House. Likewise, federal prosecutors have been thirsting to convict the source who leaked an undercover CIA agent's identity, which is a federal crime.

While many have been speculating Rove's involvement since the alleged retaliation against Ambassador Wilson and his CIA agent wife began, I never imagined we would see "the Architect" who calls the shots in the White House -- whom the President refers to as "Turd Blossom" -- facing prosecution. After four years of dirty tricks, this probe of Turd Blossom is like icing on the cake up the wazoo and I'm mixing too many metaphors now.

I predict Rove will be gone by November, to paraphrase Wyclef. And given Dick Cheney is due for a fatal heart attack any second, that means Bush II will soon be running in circles like a mildly retarded chicken with both heads cut off.

Granted, any potential victory here is minor, relative to the war-related crimes and lies of the Bush regime. But still, this might be a turning point.

Here's to the Rove probe! Bottoms up!

--Junichi

I WORK HARD FOR THE MONEY

Here Comes the Hammerlock

I recently found out that a female friend of mine makes money on the side as an independent contractor by wrestling.

She tells me there are many men and women in the bay area who are willing to pay her to come over and wrestle with them -- and nothing more. Apparently, fetishists tip well.

This, and my current month of unemployment, inspired me to revise my list of alternative career paths to pursue if teaching/law doesn't work out.

Here is my current Top 20 list of interesting jobs I wouldn't mind having based on ease, pay, and/or personal amusement:

1. Lactation consultant
2. Driver/interviewer for Taxicab Confessions
3. Process server
4. Dancer for Mighty Mighty Bosstones
5. Zoologist specializing in accelerated panda mating
6. Editor-in-Chief of Last Month's Newsletter, the periodical published by the Procrastinators' Club of America
7. National Spelling Bee Comfort Counselor
   
8. Toy booker for cereals and happy meals
9. Conflict creator for reality television show
10. Spam writer
11. Chief Justice, International Court of Justice for Animal Rights
12. Body double for Jet Li's nude scenes
13. Cooler
14. Dim sum tester
15. Psychic butt reader
16. Caption writer, Maxim magazine
17. Operations Chief for the S1W (Security of the First World)
18. Dalai Lama
19. Pet therapist
20. Stylist for the band Slipknot
    

Any leads appreciated. FYI: except possibly for #12 and #13, all of these jobs currently exist.

--Junichi

QUESTION OF THE WEEK #14

Another teacher, Debra LaFave, facing jail time for having sex with a 14-year-old male student

This Week's Question:

What should the legal age of consent be? Which is to say, at what age do you believe a person can "consent" to sex?


FYI: In the United States, the legal age of consent ("AOC") varies from state to state. In California, for example, the AOC is 18, while it's 16 in Jersey. The AOC sometimes varies based on the gender of the "perpetrator" and the "victim;" in a few states, it's illegal to have male-male or female-female sex, at any age. The AOC is as low as 14 for males in Iowa and Missouri and 16 for females in numerous states. In other countries, the AOC varies from 12 to 18, assuming such a law exists. Click here for more details.

--Junichi

McDONALDS: YOU GOT BILLIONS & BILLIONS SERVED

What'chu talkin' about, Ronald?

The latest Golden Arches news to shower on you:

• McDiversity: Black Enterprise magazine just honored McDonald's as one of the "Best Companies for Diversity in America." Is that a good thing? Isn't this equivalent to HUD congratulating Sing Sing prison for having the most racially diverse housing unit in the country? Given that the supermajority of McJobs in the fast food industry are unskilled, paid minimum wage, frequently turned over, lacking benefits, and void of vertical mobility, I say McDonald's should only be praised when their reliance on employees of color plummets.

• McPhat Farm: In an idea as ill-fated as the McDLT, McDonald's has approached FUBU, Rocawear, Russell Simmons, P. Diddy, and Tommy Hilfiger, among others, to design a new "hip" and "urban" uniform for their employees. Can you imagine a company called "For Us-By Us" designing threads for a company whose motto is "Billions and Billions Served"? I'm not lovin' it. I swear if Chuck D starts repping Mickey D's, I will drown myself in a vat of nugget grease. Hey, McMarketing team: if you had any sense, you would have chosen Wu-Wear. Because when you flip the W upside down ... Bam! It's the golden arches! McWord!
  

• McAsians: Just in case you thought they were only targeting the black community, let me remind you that McDonald's owns the domain to http://www.I-Am-Asian.com. While providing a list of "what holidays Asian and Pacific Islander Americans celebrate," this harebrained site bombards you with images like this:

Here's the implied caption for the above photo: "When I get upset at my Chinese New Year parade lion dance partner, Wang, for getting up in my grill and trying to enter my dragon, I like to wash down my anger with a Filet-O-Fish, which is the seafood dish of choice for assimilated Asian Americans like myself."

On the main page, there is a slide show of various Asian Americans chowing down happy meals. (What, no chopsticks?) But in a peculiar twist, the last photo in the montage features a dog with an "I am Asian" shirt. Aside from a potential shout-out to the Shitzu or the Pekingese, what is the message there? FYI, McDonald's: We're not dogs, although we prefer to eat them over your foul hot mustard sauce.

Where did they get this photo of O-Dub & me at the beach?

Does anybody believe they care about Asian Pacific American heritage? What a Ray Kroc of sh!t.

• Bringing the McBeef: McDonald's just sent $254,773.19 to a Hindu Heritage Endowment fund. But before you conclude that McDonald's makes generous donations to worthy causes, you should know that this payment was part of the court-ordered $10 million settlement after McDonald's was caught cooking their "vegetarian" french fries with beef tallow.

• McRobbery: Finally, early yesterday morning, a masked man, armed with a pistol, robbed a South Carolina McDonald's and forced employees into a walk-in freezer before escaping with significant assets. I'm not saying I know who did it, but I'm guessing the suspect looks something like this:

Robble Robble!

--Junichi

TO CIRCUMCISE OR NOT TO CIRCUMCISE? PT. 2

Snip

About a year ago, I went out on a limb and decided to vigorously oppose doctors with knives, well, going out on a limb.

Especially when attempting to persuade expecting parents, I defended my stance as follows:

Male circumcision isn't medically necessary, much less recommended. The American Academy of Pediatrics says that the medical benefits of circumcision "aren't compelling enough to warrant the AAP to recommend routine newborn circumcision." While circumcision may have a few potential minor medical benefits, they're outweighed by significant complication rates of infection, hemorrhage, and the possibility of even death.

The history of circumcision in America speaks for itself. Non-religious infant circumcision didn't become routine in the US until late 19th century. The procedure became popular only because it was thought to control masturbation, which everyone considered to be a sinful act that engendered illnesses ranging from blindness to epilepsy to death. By restricting movement of the penile shaft, circumcision was thought to reduce the propensity for males to shake hands with their governor. (Source: CIRP.)

A flip side of this argument is that circumcised men experience a loss of sexual sensation. (Of course, a loss of stimulation sounds like it could be a potential benefit, but I won't comment any further.)

Another oft-cited reason for male circumcision relates to cleanliness, which most experts today dismiss as a concern. The alleged dirtiness of uncircumcised penises was announced during an era when we didn't have all the modern cleaning tools that most families now have at their disposal: Biore Foreskin Wash, Smegma Oil of Olay, or something like that.

So the only reasonably persuasive factor is aesthetics. Americans often argue that since most men in the US are circumcised, those uncircumcised might feel embarrassed because their johnsons have a longer raincoat. But why conform if everyone else's appendage looks like a cross between Darth Vader and Dick Cheney?

From a global perspective, uncircumcised penises are the norm as the overwhelming majority of babies are not circumcised. Indeed, 82% of the world’s living men are intact.

In fact, according to this doctor, the United States is now the only country in the world routinely circumcising babies for non-religious reasons. Yes, we are the only member of the United Nations that routinely snips our members.

You can read more about these facts from the book soon to be on every nightstand: The Joy of Uncircumcising.

Besides, it seems silly to talk about aesthetics when debating genital mutilation. I find big toes to be aesthetically displeasing, but I don't advocate whacking them off with a machete.

In sum, the US is the only country that routinely performs medically-unnecessary non-religious male genital mutilation, which was only popularized as a way of controlling the epidemic problem of masturbation.

As much as I consider myself an American patriot, I'm going to have side with the rest of the world on this one.

It doesn't make sense to circumcise.

Well, now I might have to eat my words.

Dan Marcus, PopLicks' Bureau Chief for Foreskin Affairs, reports of a new study that concludes that male circumcision reduces the risk that men will contract the HIV virus through intercourse with HIV-positive women by 70%.

So for those who agreed with me before: doesn't this study, if true, present a good argument in favor of circumcising our sons (or ourselves)?

--Junichi

GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS ROCKS

Just the good ol' boys?

I realize it's obnoxious to recommend costly limited engagements only viewable in Manhattan. But for those in or visiting NYC, I recommend the revival of Glengarry Glen Ross on Broadway.

This Times review nails it, so I won't say much.

But I will say that this version of the play is, miraculously, better than the movie. This all-star cast (the star of M*A*S*H! and Arrested Development! and NYPD Blue!) squeezes every drop out of Mamet's profanity-laced masterpiece on male hubris, humility, and emasculation in the cutthroat world of business.

Whereas the film functioned as the Jack Lemmon/Shelly "The Machine" story, this production manages to make every role seem meaty, although Liev Schreiber (in the Richard Roma/Al Pacino role) is the undeniable standout.

One last comment: do you recognize the actor in the picture above at whom the yellow arrow is pointing? That's Tom Wopat a.k.a. Luke Duke of The Dukes of Hazzard. I saw his name on the marquee, but I didn't believe that it was actually him. It's hard to accept that one of my childhood idols is old enough to play an elderly man more feeble than Uncle Jesse. Which is to say, either he's a damn good actor or I'm getting old.

--Junichi

CAN MISSY SELL IT WITHOUT TIMBO?

now 70% mosley-free
I'm assuming that one of the major issues that people will raise with Missy Elliot's new Cookbook CD which hit stores today (and the internet weeks ago) is that Missy without Timbaland is like Guru without Primo, like Big Daddy Kane without Marley Marl, like Rob Base without DJ EZ Rock...er...rewind that back one. Anyways, I didn't realize Timbo was that MIA when I first listened to The Cookbook since, let's be honest, his style has been bitt...um...the source of much inspiration for other producers that the line between Timbaland/not-Timbaland is increasingly thinner. And personally, I don't think The Cookbook suffers that badly for his absence though one could argue that had he produced more of the album, it might be even better than it is already.

I haven't seen the critical consensus on the album handed down yet but Entertainment Weekly wasn't exactly feeling it (C- !) and they largely attribute this to Timbo's absence, going as far to say that, "this disc's uninspired musical foundation makes repellent lines such as ''He wants to take me to a motel/See if it's good enough to smell'' (''Can't Stop'') vulgar rather than playfully profane."

This is an interesting argument and not one that I think holds up very well. I don't doubt that the quality of musical production can improve the sound of one's lyricism (again, go back to my Guru example for one of hip-hop's most obvious examples). What reviewer Margeaux Watson is basically saying is that Missy's verses are garbage without Timbaland arming her with some stoopid, "Work It"-like heat (an opinion that I know many of Missy's long-time detractors have held near to their heart as well).

I'm willing to accept some of this polemic to an extent but really? I thought The Cookbook was an intensely fun and energetic album that has a few flat moments (I agree with Watson that "My Man" - a duet with Fantasia - was straight bleah) but for the most part, should keep Missy's fans happy and moreover, is a nice opportunity to hear some producers get a turn to work with Missy after Timbo had her on lock for the last five albums.

People were raving about the electro-inspired "Lose Control" months back though I was always more partial to the loopy, video-game-button-smashing "On and On" instead (the Neptunes aren't as prolific as they have been, but to me, their biggest tracks this year - "Hollerback Girl," "Drop It Like It's Hot," - have been solid gold). "My Struggles" is wicked sinister though can someone explain how Grand Puba's been making these power cameos lately, first Beanie, now Missy? "We Run This," which samples from Sugarhill Gang's "Apache" has party jam scribbled all up and down its bongo beats.

As for Rich Nice's production on "Can't Stop" which borrows heavily from a live (or sampled live) drum line...BONKERS. Even more drum line heat on that dancehall-influened "Bad Man." Likewise, I was surprised how much I liked "Click Clack" with its Southern fried slow thumps and hollerated chorus. I was less impressed with the ballads (if I recall, Blender thought the ballads were uniformly bad while EW thought they were the album's saving grace. Go figure), though I did like "Time and Time Again," which was a breezy, smooth way to end the CD.

Certainly, this isn't Missy's best work ever but all things considered, it's definitely listenable and I expect to hear more than a few of these tracks burn up the rest of the summer.

---

BONUS THOUGHTS ON DEATH CERTIFICATE

I was listening to Ice Cube's Death Certificate while doing laundry and the following thoughts popped up:

1) DC was, in all respects, a remarkable concept album, arguably the zenith of the "conscious" gangsta rap era. There are some truly incredible songs on here. There is also some unbelievably bad songs, namely "Nappy Dugout," and "Horny Little Devil" which, despite funky Sir Jinx production, are just plain corny, especially in comparison to songs like "A Bird In the Hand," "Steady Mobbin'" and "Colorblind."

2) How is it that Cube could record "No Vaseline," one of the hard-hitting dis tracks ever recorded...yet have no comeback to "The Bitch In Yoo"?

3) I - and I think many others - have under-acknowledged just how badly Cube fell off after DC. The Predator had some decent songs but by the time Lethal Injection arrives, his brilliance is all but completely dimmed out and that's been permanent. We like to poke fun at Big Daddy Kane for nose diving but really, Cube went from the most important artist on the West Coast to a talented multi-tasker in every realm except for music within two albums.

4) Relatedly, and this is not an original observation, but 1992 must have been both Cube's greatest moment and worst because not only did the L.A. Riots/Rebellion confirm his warnings but it also left him without direction (one can only say, "I told you so" on so many songs) and that vacuum promptly got filled by Dr. Dre and Snoop with The Chronic.

--O.W.

QUESTION OF THE WEEK #13

Recognize

This Week's Question:

If your first name was your favorite flavor of ice cream and your last name was your least favorite food item, what would be your new porn star name?

--Junichi

HAZY SHADE OF CRIMINAL

ready for his close-up but where are the cameras?
By this time, everyone in America has heard of Natalee Holloway - just the latest in a string of white women who've made front page news and 24 hour cable shows, aka the latest damsel in distress whose misfortunes have gripped America's attention (joining dubious company with Terry Schiavo and that nutty Runaway Bride). Just in case the name doesn't ring a bell, think instead of the 18 year old high school student missing in Aruba and I'm sure the lightbulb will spark up.

As many others have pointed out, there's a complete double-standard being enforced here: if you're a white woman in some kind of trouble, you're instant fodder for the media machine. God forbid though if you happen to be non-white and missing/killed/raped/etc., since apparently, Nielsen families don't get a hoot about your fate.

CNN.com's recent coverage of the Holloway case is even more abhorrent. On their interactive gallery, note what you see: a big smiling picture of Holloway (innocence personified no doubt) but what's truly striking are the bottom photos: we see Holloway's picture again, another white girl, a police car, a white police officer and then pictures of three black men and women. When you click on the first two, you see photos of the first two suspects arrested in the case. The only thing is: both were released on lack of evidence. The third photo is of a black police officer, taking away evidence connected with Joran Van Der Sloot, who is the current suspect and is supposed to be charged soon. Van Der Sloot is white but where is his photo in this gallery?

Maybe this is just a coincidence. Maybe it's just an oversight. But isn't it just a little odd that CNN's gallery would be missing the photo of the main suspect while it's still running photos of two suspects who've already been cleared and released? Let me just speak it plainly: a photo of a white teen surrounded by photos of black men creates drama in our racial imaginations and CNN seems to be cynically exploiting this. As anyone who saw how the Charles Stewart and Susan Smith cases went down - as well as the recent Runaway Bride debacle - blaming Black men is America's national pastime and as Holloway's case shows, the formula is easily exported to Aruba and beyond.
(credit: Kris Ex)

--O.W.

EVERYONE IS A FREAKING NAPOLEON

Flippin' Sweet Dance Moves

The snowballing cult status of Napoleon Dynamite has now eclipsed the geek devotion triggered by other cult films such as Office Space, Clerks, Heathers, Showgirls, This is Spinal Tap, Princess Bride, or Scarface. Watch your back, Rocky Horror.

Thanks to their best-selling DVD of ND, the Mormon BYU-alum husband-wife team of Jared and Jerusha Hess continue to gain hardcore converts a year after the fim's theatrical release. (I feel like those of us who saw the film in the theater during its first run deserve an award or a delicious bass.)

You know your film has blown up when there are countless midnight screenings, character quizzes, lecture circuits, "Liger" g-strings, and Dennis Quaid is on The Daily Show wearing a "Vote for Pedro" shirt.

Here are the more amusing signs of the film's empire:

• The Idaho House of Representatives unanimously passed Concurrent Resolution No. 29. Here are my excerpts of the resolution:

WHEREAS, tater tots figure prominently in this film thus promoting Idaho's most famous export; and

WHEREAS, the friendship between Napoleon and Pedro has furthered multiethnic relationships; and

WHEREAS, Uncle Rico's football skills are a testament to Idaho athletics; and

WHEREAS, Rico and Kip's Tupperware sales and Deb's keychains and glamour shots promote entrepreneurism and self-sufficiency in Idaho's small towns; and

WHEREAS, the "Happy Hands" club and the requirement that candidates for school president present a skit is an example of the importance of theaterarts in K-12 education; and

WHEREAS, Kip's relationship with LaFawnduh is a tribute to e-commerce and Idaho's technology-driven industry; and

WHEREAS, Napoleon's tetherball dexterity emphasizes the importance of physical education in Idaho public schools; and

WHEREAS, Tina the llama, the chickens with large talons, the 4-H milk cows, and the Honeymoon Stallion showcase Idaho's animal husbandry; and

WHEREAS, any members of the House of Representatives or the Senate of the Legislature of the State of Idaho who choose to vote "Nay" on this concurrent resolution are "FREAKIN' IDIOTS!" and run the risk of having the "Worst Day of Their Lives!"

NOW, THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED by the members of the First Regular Session of the Fifty-eighth Idaho Legislature, the House of Representatives and the Senate concurring therein, that we commend Jared and Jerusha Hess and the City of Preston for showcasing the positive aspects of Idaho's youth, rural culture, education system, athletics, economic prosperity and diversity.

• The Chamber of Commerce in Preston, Idaho, where the movie was set, recently organized the successful Napoleon Dynamite Festival 2005, which featured a tour of the Rex Kwon Dojo, an FFA milk-tasting competition, a tetherball tournament, and a tater-tot eating contest. (The person in the photo above is contestant Brittany Peterson doing the moon boot dance at the festival.)



• Peep Dominic Errazo take advantage of his 15 minutes of fame on ESPN and channel Napoleon Dynamite while competing in the National Spelling Bee. (credit: pickinboogers)
  



• Finally, here's Napoleon on Letterman. (credit: Kay Zee)

--Junichi

SUPERSTAR

Luther Vandross R.I.P.
April 20, 1951 - July 1, 2005

A million days with that voice is never too much.

--Junichi

THE SUPREME BATTLE BEGINS

Sandra Day is Audi 5000.

Justice O'Connor is quitting the game.

My friend Dan Marcus is curious whether Vegas has put up an over/under on how long until Roe gets overturned.

--Junichi

LOSING MUSCLE

Do Salt 'n Pepa still want a man with a body like Arnold (with a Denzel face)?

The Governator's politcal muscle is rapidly withering into the atrophied flab of what he would unendearingly refer to as a girlie-man.

Latest polls indicate that only 39% of Californians are inclined to vote for Schwarzenegger again, down from 56% just four months ago.

Apparently, 17% of Californians just woke up from a post-recall drunken stupor and realized, despite a Hummer-size hangover, that maybe it wasn't such a smart idea to believe that the star of Jingle All The Way could repair all of California's problems.

Let's hope Golden State voters' coldness towards Governor Freeze continues when we have to vote on his toxic special-election November initiatives, which if we are coked out enough to approve them, will cap critical state spending, strip lawmakers of important powers, curb union rights' of political expression, and make it harder for public school teachers to get tenure.

* * *

In other political news:

• Given that Wal-Mart heir John Walton, the 11th richest man in the world, just died in a plane crash, it may seem crass to attack Wal-Mart at this time. But given that the megacrap-chain never stops executing their blueprints for evil, I can live with myself by sharing their latest act of reactionary activism: Wal-Mart is refusing to carry the morning-after pill -- Plan B -- in all its stores. Given its giant marketshare biceps, this ban effectively bars emergency contraception in hundreds of towns in rural America, meaning Wal-Mart may have more influence on reproductive rights than the Supreme Court.



• It's been a relatively good week for gay rights. Spain just joined the lonely duo of the Netherlands and Belgium by becoming the third country to legalize gay marriage on a nationwide basis. Canada's House of Commons just paved the way for Canada to become the fourth country. For those weak in math, that means the number of countries that have legalized gay marriage just doubled in one week. Less significantly, the California Supreme Court let stand the new state law that grants registered domestic partners most of the same rights available to married couples. Unfortunately, 99% of the gay and lesbians in the world, lacking legal equality, aren't reaping the benefits of any good news. Even worse, they just switched to Geico, but didn't save a bunch of money on their car insurance.



• Suddenly, the Republican Party likes black people.
  
  
• Mexico also loves black people (who are apparently "endearingly" referred to as "Morenitos," which loosely translates to "darkies"), but prefers the outdated caricatures of them on their national stamps.







• Finally, nobody should ever talk to a reporter from Time Magazine again.

--Junichi