Idiot vs. Shrew--Place Your Bets!

These were my initial impressions of the Jon and Kate Plus 8 nightmare, summer of 2009:

I hate covering reality programming in my entertainment reports. Unless it's a competition show like American Idol, Top Chef, or So You Think You Can Dance, reality shows tend to leave me covered in an oily film that won't budge with any amount of Ajax and vigorous rubbing. So when the Jon and Kate Plus 8 drama started to unfurl a couple of months ago, I held off as long as I could.

I had seen the show, I was familiar with the archetypes represented by overbearing and bossy Kate and laid-back (catatonic?) Jon. Yes, she had a tendency to emasculate. No, he had very little idea what was actually going on at any given moment. The children are all very cute and age-appropriately irritating. Fine, capitalize on your ridiculous decision to bring sextuplets into the world. You can afford their therapy when they grow up. And then came the adultery and lying and cries of "woe is me with my huge house and motorcycle and free vacations--all these cameras are just too much!" And that's when it became a publicity juggernaut.

So now the Gosselins are doing the decidedly un-Christian thing and calling it quits on their marriage with no visible attempt to get counseling or outside help. The show will continue taping after a brief hiatus, since they owe TLC 40 episodes this year-- and we the viewer will get to watch these kids transition through one of the most difficult periods of their lives. It's just gross. TLC and both parents will shower them with more presents, more trips, more toys, in an effort to keep them happy enough to smile and giggle and act like kids who do NOT have freshly divorced parents. This whole situation and the fact that any of the Gosselin children will be able to see their parents' marriage implode on tape for eternity is how people end up drinking themselves to death, or getting married 7 times, or getting knocked up at 16. This is how people end up with tassles on their boobs with a stage name like Dusty or Blaze.

Jon's attitude on the "special episode" was ridiculous. He let Kate rule the roost, huh? Perhaps because she was the one who gathered together all of the disparate pieces of their lives, public and private, and kept them on track. Jon, in the meantime, acts out like one of the children when he feels slighted, instead of having a real live conversation with his wife. Maybe if he had spent more time reading and less time flirting in high school he'd be articulate enough to communicate his needs. Jon is going to end up one of those sad sack paunchy guys with a suspiciously full head of hair-plugged hair that attempts to fit into the Big City lifestyle and recapture his early 20's as if he had never contributed to the creation of 8 defenseless yet powerfully noisy small people. "Hey hey," he'll say all swagger and bratty frat boy attitude, and try to pass himself off as a swinging single who just happened to have some TV exposure once a long time ago. And then the girls will recognize him and throw drinks in his face and kick him in the shins because he's got 8 FRICKIN' KIDS and should act like it. He's an immature tool.

And the first person to come up with a reality show that blends that dating show The Cougar and a Brady Bunch style reality show tracking blended families should sign Kate up now. It'll be her weekend to have all 8 of hers, and she'll go on a group date with some random man that has 7 kids of his own and then they'll get married and film it and call it Kate and Dean Plus 15! or whatever. Before then she will have abruptly switched her public persona from one who is overbearing and mean to the one who wanted to work the marriage out, and she'll have climbed up on her cross and firmly nailed herself there.

And the kids will hate them forever.

Step Away From the Buffy

There are a few things I deem holy. Untouchable. So incredibly perfect in their creation that should anyone except the original creator decide to toy with it, I will personally spearhead the revolution. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is one of these holy things. I have neither the time nor the patience to explain exactly why the TV series with the funny name is so deeply ingrained in my consciousness; suffice to say that the characters are in my blood; the writer and creator, Joss Whedon, pulls words out of my head and strings them together in such a way that I look like a philistine; and the mythology is so layered, so analogous to the tormented adolescent existence that I am grateful, every day, for having had the TV show for 7 years. Now there are comic book tie-ins by Master Whedon, adding to the canon and allowing folks like me to continue to revel in the misadventures of the Scooby gang.

So what has my proverbial panties in a twist? This news story. The director of the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie (remember that suck-fest? Kristy Swanson? Donald Sutherland?) is going to take the conceit-- a Chosen one, fighting demons and vampires and all matter of undeadness-- and make a new movie out of it. Without Joss Whedon. Whedon wrote the movie, true--but watched as directors and producers turned it into something too Velveeta to even be called cheeseball. He then took it back and crafted what we know as Buffy from that point on. So the original director maintained some rights to the idea, obviously, and now wants to jump on the "vampires everywhere" bandwagon evidenced by the Twilight series, HBO's True Blood, the CW's new Vampire Diaries coming in the fall, and on and on.

To which I say, just try it. Scores of Whedon fans will revolt, there will be metaphorical blood in the streets, and her project will die a terrible death if she tries to tie this to the Buffy franchise in any way. Let it stand on its own, or try to get Joss in on the project, but never, never, NEVER bastardize my Buffy. And leave Angel alone while you're at it.

UPDATE: Variety is reporting that the head of Vertigo Entertainment, the studio trying to get this off the ground, is saying "Studios are looking for a franchise and vampires are relevant again." WTF? Money-grubbing-intellectual-property-raping jackass.

Originally written 3.09

Carrie Prejean - Ridiculous.

It's not like gay marriage comes up in my entertainment reports often. And it's not like this issue is really about gay marriage. But, for the record, I'm a big supporter. Like, I think it's ridiculous we even have to debate a person's civil rights. Duh. She's definitely not representing me as a Californian. But I digress.

Her stance on gay marriage is NOT why Carrie Prejean should have her Miss California sash ripped off her body faster than you can say "Your nipple's showing!" She needs to have her crown, her sash, her cash award, her cache, her all-of-it taken from her because she lied about two separate sets of "semi-nude" pictures AND she's using her status as Miss California USA to endorse a political movement that wasn't approved by the Miss USA pageant.

I'm telling you right now--I don't care about her answer to Perez Hilton's question. Hilton is a bad example of your everyday gay person that lives all across the US. He's shrill and over-the-top; he's also a hack gossip columnist who gets off making other people feel badly about themselves. So he was baiting Prejean, make no mistake. And yes, she could have been more articulate, but she's allowed to think whatever she wants--this is American. And she is totally, completely hot in her pictures. Not the point. What I DO care about is that slimy Trump character commenting that the pictures she took when she was 17(!) and in her underwear were "in many cases, absolutely magnificent photos." He made no comment at all about the second set of pictures that were released that showed her entire breast, nip and all, and were taken a year before the Miss USA pageant. Then what the hell is the contract for in the first place? If he is going to allow the girls in his pageant to violate their contracts multiple times and still keep their title, what message is that sending? If Carrie Prejean had less attractive breasts, or was a brunette, or had NOT stirred up such a firestorm with her politically incorrect answer on stage, would she still have her crown? How exactly is it OK that a runner-up has now stolen all of the spotlight from the actual winner (Miss North Carolina, if you forgot)?

Miss Nevada 2006, Katie Rees, had her title stripped after pictures showed up of her kissing girls at a party--let's ask her what she thinks about Prejean and her charmed life right now? "An accurate word to describe me is irate."

At least everyone's little girls can grow up with the knowledge that they can, indeed, get a boob job paid for by someone else, pose "semi-nude," and breach a contract as long as they're hot and Donald Trump is still a perv.

Originally written 4.09

Congress + Christmas = Bad Ending

The first ridiculous part of the story is that Congress put together a Christmas resolution at all.

The second ridiculous part is that they actually brought it to a vote. Last Christmas-time, the House of Representatives voted 372-9 to pass a resolution that declared the United States is predominantly Christian, and that Christianity contributed greatly to the development of the country and Western civilization. The dissenting votes were all Democrats. My issues with this sort of time-waster are so numerous I have neither the patience nor the focus needed to enumerate them. So I'll give you the highlights.

1. California will soon be predominantly Latino. Should we all start celebrating El Dia de Los Muertos then? Would this white-boy representative from Iowa be OK with whatever is "predominant" in society being forced on everyone else if we were talking about Illinois swallowing Iowa? Illinoisans are predominant in that part of the country, right?

2. Rep. Steve King is allegedly making a statement about Christmas. As usual, those who shout loudest about their "faith" have failed to do their research. Christmas is a pagan holiday, it always has been, and its rituals were co-opted by the Church two millennia ago in order to convert those nature-worshipping country folk.

3. I thought Greece and Rome had already shaped Western Civilization by the time the Christians managed to band together. Democracy, philosophy, critical thinking, art...everyone with a brain knows these are the building blocks of our society. Well, that and slaves. Slaves built this country, not Christians.

I could go on, but now I'm annoyed. We pay these yutzes to run our country, and this is what they're doing on the day Bush vetoes the child health care bill.

Originally written 12.07

Holidays Make People Insane

I'm unsure as to why I'm always stunned by vitriol.  By the human capacity for meanness.  We are a selfish species, driven by material wants and personal vendetta, jealous and schadenfreude-ian.  Right?  This becomes obvious during the holiday season, when people are trampled for a $40 dollar digital frame and yet homeless shelters and soup kitchens are hard up for donations.  People drive like maniacs, fight over parking, yell at the Best Buy clerk, under-tip their waiters, and encourage their children to act like greedy little pigs.  God bless us, every one!

Let's try something new.  It's controversial, but go with me on this.  Say "thank you" to the Best Buy clerk.  Tip your waiter 40 percent.  Pay for the coffee of the person behind you in line, like these people did.  Let someone merge onto the freeway in front of you instead of gunning the gas to get to the mall first.  Spend time at home with your kids, playing with all of last year's toys before they get tossed aside.  Put on some cheesy Christmas music and dance around your living room (maybe with some spiked egg nog.)  Be thankful that you have friends and family to buy presents for at all, even if you don't like all of them.  Go check out the giant Christmas tree in Union Square (but take public transportation.)  Volunteer.  Smile.  Breathe.

Not everything is an exercise in Darwinian selection.  You getting that last iPod Touch is not because you deserve it--it's probably because you elbowed that little old lady on the way in.  So pick her up off the ground and and apologize.

Originally written 12.07

One Pet Peeve Post. Just one.

   
This is the one time I’m going to pick a pet peeve and expect you to care when I rant about it.  This one’s a big one, and many many folks are hypocrites about it.  If you are one of those people that just hates it when your fellow drivers are talking on the phone, then make sure you never talk on the phone while you’re driving.  I don’t.  Why should I?  It’s always noisy in my head anyway, and I have to deal with tidying my apartment and fixing something for dinner and figuring out the next day’s game plan when I get home, so why in the sam hell do I need to discuss all of those things with various and sundry people on my way?  What is so ferociously important?  Nothing, that’s what.  

The guy that ran a red light today and turned right directly in front of me, causing me to lock up my brakes and swerve a bit, was probably telling his wife that he would like two olives in his martini when he gets home, please.  The girl eating ice cream and going 4 mph on Gough was probably extolling the virtues of butter pecan.  The dude with the earpiece that cut me off in the middle of the Broadway tunnel was probably talking up his buddy about the hot new girl (or boy) in accounting and wondering if she (or he) is the type to put out on the first date.
 

And don’t get me started on people who think they can text while they drive and still maintain a modicum of safety.  You can’t.  I don’t care what you say, you cannot.  Driving, especially within the confines of San Francisco, is a full-on interactive experience.  People are pulling over, not using their blinkers (DAMN those people), veering across three lanes of traffic because they didn’t read the No Left Turn sign, and that’s not even mentioning the hara-kiri-committing pedestrians that also go retarded when they get on the phone.  The incessant desire to be connected to people is not only degrading our language via text message, but it’s creating a nation of people who think their hand-eye coordination is secondary to their ability to keep their foot on the gas pedal.  I’m not looking out for those people anymore.  I’m going to be a chatty driver’s worst nightmare.  I’ll lay on my horn, I’ll tailgate, I’ll “flex” on ‘em, as the kids say.  Because I can’t take it anymore.  So watch out for my Toyota.  I’ll be the one actually looking at the road.