By Troy Brownfield
04.08.04
|
A
Justice Department intern was fired today after playing
a tiny little pratical joke with the 9/11 Commission
subpoena list.
(Picture copyright AP)
|
I was
going to start this one off by asking: "How the hell
can Camille still be on Idol? She's more pitchy than
Kerry Wood, has the self-confidence of a squirrel crossing
the L.A. Freeway, and the song-choosing ability of a sorority
girl shouting out for Dave Matthews during a Brit pop act."
However, her lousiness has finally been voted off by
a merciful America. Then again, they stuck us with Clay Aiken,
so they can't be that merciful.
Truly
Outrageous:
Supposedly, the "next big thing" in pop is an act
named Jem. Once again, I'm proven to be cooler than even I
initially believed. I listened to Jem years ago when she was
still with The Holograms. You know who isn't very happy with
her sudden ascent? Jerry Only and Doyle. If you actually get
that joke, then I love you for it.
Ten
Years, Man!:
Rather unbelievably, it's been ten years since Kurt Cobain
committed suicide. It makes me realize that a) he made some
great music, and b) yikes, I'm old.
Shaky
Pictures:
Shakira is putting out a DVD. If there's any justice, there
will be a special track that is nothing but 120 minutes of
her shaking her rump in tight focus. To someone else's music.
Ironic:
At the Juno awards, Alanis turned out to be the highlight
of the evening by being funny. She parodied Janet's Super
Bowl moment and offered Miss Jackson refugee status. Take
Michael while your'e at it, eh?
The
Shield: What a great show. Tuesday's episode was wrong
on an epic scale. If the FCC throws a fit over it as I sort
of believe they will, expect to hear the phrase "oral
rape" used a lot in connection with this episode. Some
folks tend to forget that often our most profound art is our
most honest and brutal. (And I mean brutal in different way
that "Wow, Camille singing Good-bye Yellow Brick Road
was brutal.")
Three
is the Magic Number:
On a totally divergent note, Becky's and my cat Comet turned
three just the other day. Were he human, he might be found
criminally insane. Occasionally having to fish a cat out from
inside the love seat keeps things interesting.
Testify!:
Condy Rice finally goes to talk in front of the 9-11 commission.
I don't expect any huge bombshells. And neither did they!
BADA-BING! Sorry. At any rate, I find it interesting that
Rice finally decided to get with history and acknowledge that
people can testify while serving. Perhaps they all
forgot that President Clinton had to testify over something
as menial as a blow job (oh wait, I'm sorry; blow jobs and
cigar abuse) while he was still in office. The law of the
land must apply to everyone. Except of course, when Florida,
the Supreme Court, or rich corporate executives see fit.
Hell,
boy!:
I was pleased to see Hellboy take the top slot at the
box office. Notice that after several weeks of Mel Gibson's
pummelling Passion owning number one, it was beaten
down by zombies, ghost-fighting kids with a dog, and underworld
refugees that fight Nazis. Some people may get deep fulfillment
out of their stuff, but I gotta say, my entertainment world
usually feels a heck of a lot more fun.
The
Swan:
Don't bother to go see Nicole Kidman's satire-free remake
of The Stepford Wives. We've got the real thing right
here. I can only imagine what this pitch meeting was like:
"Let's take a bunch of homely chicks with low self-esteem,
fix 'em up, then mangle their rebuilt esteem in a beauty pageant!"
When they drag the women up to the mirror (they allegedly
don't see their reflection through the 3-month "we can
rebuild them, we have the technology" process), don't
you sort of expect Paige Davis to jump out and say, "Open
your eyes! How do you like your new rack?!"
Eventually,
we just need to throw all of the marginal reality celebrities
into a coliseum and let 'em duke it out with Simon Cowell
in the role of Caesar ("The gay naked Survivor is impertinent,
but I like that. Thumbs up! However, Average Joe Adam is tedious
and off-putting. Feed him to the tigers!") I'd watch
that.
Radio
Radio:
You know the airwaves are bought and paid for when you're
driving from Indy to Terre Haute and you hear Usher's "Yeah"
on four different stations with four different formats in
fifteen minutes. Why don't we just get rid of non-satellite
radio and combine all of the broadcast stations into one company
that sends everybody in America the same mix tape? Actually,
doesn't the Now! series already fulfill that function?
Sports:
The Pacers have clinched.
The
Cubs have huge potential. Why do both of those things make
me incredibly nervous?
And
Finally, A Congrats: Congrats
to friend of the site, friend of Samsell, and friend of me,
Steve Hayes and his new wife/former long-term girlfriend Jamie.
Steve plays bass with The Common, the fun outlaw country combo
Nashville, TX, and occasionally joins with the ne'er-do-wells
of No*Star. Wish them much goodness, eh?
Troy Brownfield is the Editor-in-Chief of Shotgun Reviews.
Email Troy at psikotyk@aol.com
|
