Is George Bush DUMBER Than Tom Cruise?

Tonight, I will attempt to figure out who is nuttier - the President of the United States, the Admiral of Atrocity, George W. Bush, or Scientology expert and cock-respecter extraordinaire, Tom Cruise-Holmes.

First, let's consider Tom Cruise's recent behavior. Dancing around like a nutjob on Oprah, reacting angrily after being squirted in the face with water, advancing highly illogical arguments on "The Today Show," looking like he may, at any moment, pounce on Matt Lauer like a frightened puma. Check. Definitely nutty.

But NOW let's take a look at the President's speech tonight from Fort Bragg. I think his brand of delusional religious fanaticism tops Tom's any day. After all, how many massive technologically-advanced militaries does Tom Cruise control? Not many!

My greatest responsibility as president is to protect the American people, and that is your calling as well. I thank you for your service, your courage and your sacrifice. I thank your families, who support you in your vital work. The soldiers and families of Fort Bragg have contributed mightily to our efforts to secure our country and promote peace. America is grateful and so is your commander in chief.

George likes to do this...he refers to himself in the third person, but gets away with it by using his official title - "Commander in Chief" - rather than just saying George Bush. Or, you know, "me." It sounds less egomaniacal. For example, I saw him give an interview (to Bill O'Reilly, that veteran newsman) where he defended that embarrassing "Mission Accomplished" aircraft carrier landing..."The troops like to see their Commander in Chief," Bush explained, probably because he's sound super-ridiculous saying "The troops wanted to see me!" like he's their favorite uncle or something.

"Oh, gee whiz, General, isn't Uncle Traveling George coming to visit this Thanksgiving."

"I don't know, Private...He gets awful busy around the White House this time of year...Maybe if you're really really good and he's desperately in need of a photo op..."

The troops here and across the world are fighting a global war on terror. The war reached our shores on September 11, 2001. The terrorists who attacked us and the terrorists we face murder in the name of a totalitarian ideology that hates freedom, rejects tolerance and despises all dissent. Their aim is to remake the Middle East in their own grim image of tyranny and oppression by toppling governments, driving us out of the region and by exporting terror.

Way to hit them talking points, Chimpy! I haven't heard these same facile arguments from you a thousand times before. Blah blah blah freedom is on the march blah blah blah tyranny and oppression. I get it. We all get it. Now shut the fuck up.

To achieve these aims, they have continued to kill in Madrid, Istanbul, Jakarta, Casablanca, Riyadh, Bali and elsewhere. The terrorists believe that free societies are essentially corrupt and decadent, and with a few hard blows they can force us to retreat. They are mistaken. After September 11, I made a commitment to the American people: This nation will not wait to be attacked again. We will defend our freedom. We will take the fight to the enemy.

The enemy, of course, being random Iraqis, chosen seemingly at will. That wasn't really the commitment he made to the American people. You may recall that commitment, as it's a speech the Republicans dredged up again and again and again and again during Campaign 2004. The President, in the rubble of the World Trade Center, promised the workers and citizenry gathered there that the people responsible for that tragedy would "hear you."

Well, the people actually responsible for that tragedy have heard about it, all right, but they don't seem to really give a shit. We haven't caught Osama, we haven't really seen any dramatic improvement in public safety here in America or in a decrease in world terrorism.

So, yeah, the President made a commitment. And then gave up on it and went after Saddam Hussein.

Iraq is the latest battlefield in this war. Many terrorists who kill innocent men, women and children on the streets of Baghdad are followers of the same murderous ideology that took the lives of our citizens in New York, in Washington and Pennsylvania. There is only one course of action against them: to defeat them abroad before they attack us at home. The commander in charge of coalition operations in Iraq, who is also senior commander at this base, General John Vines, put it well the other day. He said, "We either deal with terrorism and this extremism abroad, or we deal with it when it comes to us."

I told you he was tricksy. I told you he was false.

This is pretty deceiving, I have to say. Karl Rove, you are good. See, the only reason Iraq is the "latest battlefield in this war" is because we went and randomly invaded it. There was no battlefield in this war, which is what makes it a difficult war to fight. But randomly inventing a battlefield doesn't really work out so well, as the citizens of Baghdad would probably tell you at this point.

See, the President has this weird notion about a finite number of terrorists. This plan only makes sense if the terrorists have a set number of guys, and we can wear them down over the course of a few months and destroy them all.

If that were the case, it would make sense to lure them out into the open and then take them down.

But of course, that's not the case. The case is, the more brutal, unfair, random and heinous American policy turns towards the Middle East, the easier it will be for terrorists to recruit, and thus the more terrorists there will be. So it's not like we went to Iraq and lured out a few thousand terrorists, and are right now merrily gunning them all down in the streets, like in that old Nintendo game "Duck Hunt." It's more like we created a horrific gauntlet of chaos in what used to be a country, like in that old Ninetendo game "Contra." And chaos breeds further chaos, just as violence breeds further violence. We're digging a hole deeper and deeper, not burrowing our way out of one.

Our mission in Iraq is clear. We are hunting down the terrorists. We are helping Iraqis build a free nation that is an ally in the war on terror. We are advancing freedom in the broader Middle East. We are removing a source of violence and instability and laying the foundation of peace for our children and our grandchildren.

I think we can all agree on most of this stuff as our "mission." Like the President says, I'd like to see an Iraq where terrorists were being hunted down, Iraqi civilians were founding a legally sound sovereign nation out of the ashes of the old despotic system and that whole part of the world were much less violent. OF COURSE that's what we want to see happen...you don't need a press conference to say that.

But we're not doing any of these things. We're hunting down terrorists, fine, but we wind up imprisoning mostly innocent people, and our tactics for rounding up evildoers has caused more problems than it has solved. Iraqis aren't anywhere close to being able to build a free nation, defend themselves or even provide basic requirements for civilization like power and water. We're not advancing freedom in the broader Middle East, we're propping up other dictatorships because we need allies. (Pakistan? Saudi fucking Arabia? These are nations dedicated to freedom?) And we're not removing a source of violence or instability, we are a source of violence and instability.

The work in Iraq is difficult and it is dangerous. Like most Americans, I see the images of violence and bloodshed. Every picture is horrifying and the suffering is real. Amid all this violence, I know Americans ask the question: Is the sacrifice worth it? It is worth it, and it is vital to the future security of our country. And tonight I will explain the reasons why.

But this is a lie too. Bush may very well see the images of violence and bloodshed, but Americans don't because our corporate-controlled media won't beam us the images. You can find them online (mainly as published in the Middle Eastern or European press) if you really search for them, but the American government only wants you to see their version of the war, and it's for the most part bloodless. Occasionally, some young American dies and they can't totally ignore it, and we get a fleeting photo on the news or a small article buried in the paper.

But Bush isn't attending these funerals, we're not seeing any caskets on TV, and some right-wing media companies won't even run an episode of Nightline in which Ted Koppel reads the names of the American casualties of the Iraq War. So, no, Mr. President, you're keeping us from seeing those pictures you call "horrifying" depicting the "suffering" your war has caused. But we should see them. (Also, how dare this man, who has had every priviledge provided to him for his entire life, even talk about the sacrifice of military families and how their sacrifice is "worth" his extended socio-political goals?)

Some of the violence you see in Iraq is being carried out by ruthless killers who are converging on Iraq to fight the advance of peace and freedom. Our military reports that we have killed or captured hundreds of foreign fighters in Iraq who have come from Saudi Arabia, Syria, Iran, Egypt, Sudan, Yemen, Libya and others. They are making common cause with criminal elements, Iraqi insurgents and remnants of Saddam Hussein's regime who want to restore the old order. They fight because they know that the survival of their hateful ideology is at stake. They know that as freedom takes root in Iraq, it will inspire millions across the Middle East to claim their liberty as well. And when the Middle East grows in democracy, in prosperity and hope, the terrorists will lose their sponsors, lose their recruits and lose their hopes for turning that region into a base for attacks on America and our allies around the world.

Some wonder whether Iraq is a central front in the war on terror. Among the terrorists, there is no debate. Hear the words of Osama Bin Laden: "This Third World War is raging" in Iraq. "The whole world is watching this war." He says it will end in "victory and glory or misery and humiliation."

Okay, he's doing the same thing again. He's pretending that the terrorists chose Iraq as the battlefront in the War on Terror, when they clearly did no such thing. He's saying, "Look, all these terrorists are fighting us there! That's why we need to be in Iraq!" But they're only there because of us. We started the fight, and now he wants to use the fact that they are fighting back as proof the fight was important in the first place. It's totally nonsensical.

It would be like taking a dump in your neighbors yard, and then going back the next day and installing an outhouse. "Hey, if people are going to shit here, you might as well have a bathroom!"

I also like that Osama quote at the end there. It's maybe the first time I've ever heard the President openly declare that we might lose the War on Terror. He doesn't say "the terrorists know they must win this battle, but of course, they can't beat us! We're America." He just says, "they need to win."

The terrorists know that the outcome will leave them emboldened or defeated. So they are waging a campaign of murder and destruction. And there is no limit to the innocent lives they are willing to take.

See? The "outcome" used to be certain for GW. Is he conceding the point that the future is unknown? But hasn't God already assured him that we're totally gonna kick ass?

Also note that sentence..."There is no limit to the innocent lives they are willing to take." Isn't that true of us, as well? What if the Senate had a proposal in front of it to litter the Middle East with bombs? We'd kill all the terrorists, but a lot of innocents as well, hundreds of thousands maybe. But we wouldn't have to fight the War on Terror any more. It would be over, we won, the world is safe from suicide bombings. How do you think most Americans would vote? I'm not sure...but I'm tempted to say a surprising amount of them would go for the deal.

And the attitude of George in the War on Terror all along has been "we will fight these guys at any cost," "this is a war we must win," all that stuff.

We see the nature of the enemy in terrorists who exploded car bombs along a busy shopping street in Baghdad, including one outside a mosque. We see the nature of the enemy in terrorists who sent a suicide bomber to a teaching hospital in Mosul. And we see the nature of the enemy in terrorists who behead civilian hostages and broadcast their atrocities for the world to see.

All these things are true. I won't deny that fanatical Islam is a worthwhile opponent, something we should be working against. But I do wish he would be more selective about his choice of language. The President constantly talking in terms of "enemies" is so creepy, so backward. Can't we for once focus on positive, forward-thinking proposals, and stop fear-mongering for one little speech? Is it so much to ask?

These are savage acts of violence but they have not brought the terrorists any closer to achieving their strategic objectives.

LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES!

Osama bin Laden has achieved all of his strategic objectives from 9/11 and then some. I dare say, the entire enterprise probably worked beyond his wildest expectations.

(1) He has united most of the world against America

Even people that aren't Muslim and hate terrorists are united in their present opposition to American foreign policy. Hell, I'm united in my hatred for American foreign policy and I fucking live here. Remember, you don't have to like terrorists to hate the way America has behaved in the last several years.

Plus, that Abu Gharib-Gitmo stuff? That is like a 2 hour sloppy wet blowjob for Osama bin Laden. That is like every birthday present he ever got times 1000, and he grew up fabulously wealthy so you know the guy got some cool birthday presents.

(2) Terrorist recruitment is through the roof

All these young kids whose parents and siblings and friends we're arresting and torturing and murdering en masse? They're the future of al-Qaeda. The more we decimate their homeland, the more anxious they'll be to decimate ours.

(3) We're involved in a protracted land war in the Middle East, for which we have no exit strategy

That's what they want! Obviously, al-Qaeda doesn't have an Air Force. We're not going to fight them on the High Seas like in fucking Master and Commander. If they're going to kill infidels and beat us down, they have to do it on their own turf, guerilla style.

Seeing as our nation was founded by guerilla warriors, you'd think we would catch on to this, but we keep marching into these kind of situations over and over and over again, like Napoleon if he had that amensia disease from Memento. It's retarded.

(4) Everybody is still fucking talking about al-Qaeda

Pre-9/11: Osama bin Laden is some bearded buttmunch whom Americans can't tell apart from any of those wacky Muslim sheiks. Or Omar Sharif in Lawrence of Arabia for that matter.

Post-9/11: Osama bin Laden can release a video tape and beat out Lindsay Lohan for the front page. Think about that...He's not more important than Lindsay Lohan.

You can't buy that kind of publicity. You can only earn it by crashing planes into large skyscrapers when a trained ape happens to be president.

(5) Americans are losing faith in their government, their economy and their military

Isn't that really what terrorism is all about? Fear? Panic? Isn't that how you'd describe the American mood post-9/11? I wish some brave politician would come out and admit the truth - we as a society have played right into Osama bin Laden's hands, and it's time to look at our own behavior and how it affects the world instead of trying to arrest every brown, bearded guy.

So, yeah, George, explain again how Osama bin Laden didn't achieve any objectives? You were saying?

The terrorists, both foreign and Iraqi, failed to stop the transfer of sovereignty. They failed to break our coalition and force a mass withdrawal by our allies. They failed to incite an Iraqi civil war. They failed to prevent free elections. They failed to stop the formation of a democratic Iraqi government that represents all of Iraq's diverse population. And they failed to stop Iraqis from signing up in large numbers with the police forces and the army to defend their new democracy.

Do I even need to point out how pathetic this is as an explanation? Okay, I'll do it quick, because it's immensely feeble.

This is really the meat of this speech. This is his defense of our position in Iraq. This is why he thinks we are winning the war. And it's a fucking joke.

First of all, he uses the same incident - there was an election - over and over again, as if it were different successes we'd won in Iraq. Yes, there was an election. That means there was a transfer of sovereignty, a government has formed and there is a new democracy.

He doesn't discuss how this is a democracy in name only. How the people in charge are not permanent, how large sectors of the country didn't vote, and how many of the government's key officials are US puppets. Also, how there's no real organization for the government yet, and it hasn't even been decided, most importantly, how long the US will have a presence in the country, and how the constitution will be drafted.

Big important decisions, those. My point is, it's a little early to talk about a democratic government that represents all the people. Stop-gap, semi-official elections held during a time of chaotic violence and warfare in the streets is hardly something to crow about from the rooftops.

The lesson of this experience is clear: The terrorists can kill the innocent but they cannot stop the advance of freedom. The only way our enemies can succeed is if we forget the lessons of September 11, if we abandon the Iraqi people to men like Zarqawi and if we yield the future of the Middle East to men like bin Laden. For the sake of our nation's security, this will not happen on my watch.

There it is for you, clear as day. George Bush wants your friends and family to willingly die for an abstract. An abstract that happens to be really important to him, but also extremely vague. I'm not saying it's always wrong to die for an abstract. Millions of people throughout human history have, and I can't deny that often times, it's noble. But that's a decision each man and woman must make for themselves. Is this idea worth dying for?

I think most Americans would say that they concept of a democratically-elected Iraqi government is not really, to them, worth the lives of their children, parents or friends. Now, maybe, if you said, "I'll kill you, but your death will immediately cause Iraq to be free, and controlled by a benevolent, fairly elected governing body," a lot of American swould go for it.

But that's not dying for an ideal. Dying for an ideal is..."your death will mean something toward the cause of worldwide freedom." Umm...okay...I guess...but couldn't I live a while longer?

Bush goes on and on and on (this is so far only Page 1 of 3 in the speech transcript), and frankly, there's no need to continue fisking the speech like this. You see where the guy is going. It's just more mindless horseshit, signifying nothing at all.

America has done difficult work before. From our desperate fight for independence, to the darkest days of a Civil War, to the hard-fought battles against tyranny in the 20th century, there were many chances to lose our heart, our nerve or our way. But Americans have always held firm, because we have always believed in certain truths. We know that if evil is not confronted, it gains in strength and audacity and returns to strike us again. We know that when the work is hard, the proper response is not retreat, it is courage. And we know that this great ideal of human freedom entrusted to us in a special way and that the ideal of liberty is worth defending.

Ugh...What balls...He's equating a war he started with the war against the British Crown, the Confederacy, Nazis. Hey, FDR didn't lie about Hitler, pretending he wanted to invade other countries and kill Jews, when really he had two panzers and a couple of underground bunkers. Der Fuhrer had already invaded a couple countries when we joined the war effort.

And, yes, Iraq invaded Kuwait in the early 90's, and we stepped in and got them out, and then left. In 2003, all they did was fail to let in Hans Blix for a few days, before finally letting him in anyway.

Not quite the same thing.

Using this kind of rhetoric, he could excuse any war. Any war. Think about it. "The ideal of liberty." How exactly is this a fight for the ideal of liberty? It's not. It's a fight over who's going to run this faraway country, and whether or not we're going to set up shop there permanently. It has nothing to fucking do with liberty.

Next week, our nation has an opportunity to make sure that support is felt by every soldier, sailor, airman, Coast Guardsman and Marine at every outpost across the world. This Fourth of July, I ask you to find a way to thank the men and women defending our freedom by flying the flag, sending letters to our troops in the field or helping the military family down the street.

This is his grand design? This is the big plan at the end of his speech to give us hope for teh future? Fly the fucking flag?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?! Is he fucking serious?

I can't even go on. That's it for me.

So, who's dumber, Cruise or Bush? All I have to say is, if our President is a measure of sanity, then I'll take Xenu and the exploding "Dianetics" volcanoes any day of the week.

Worst. Religion. Ever.

I had lunch with my brother, mother and grandmother today. Got into a disagreement with my sibling, Jon, over whether Scientology is dumber than Christianity.

My brother thinks they are equally dumb. Christ didn't rise from the dead just as Xenu didn't sacrifice thousands of people to a radioactive volcano, so both religions encourage you to repeat stories that are clearly false. And both are based on a moral system that at times seems arbitrary. Is the Christian prohibition against meat on Fridays any more or less sensible than the Scientologist's ban on psychiatry?

I say, basically, that it's a little bit less stupid to be a Christian than to be a Scientologist. I mean, yes, the mythology behind neither religion is true, but Christianity at least builds off of several thousands years of tradition. It has been a significant communal and cultural force that has dramatically shaped Western civilization, so by practicing it, a person joins a long and storied tradition.

Not neccessarily a proud tradition, unless you're a fan of Inquisitions, but a tradition nonetheless. It's a faith that has been forged by not just one guy, but a large community throughout the ages, and therefore it has value, even if it isn't spiritual value.

Scientology on the other hand is based around the book "Dianetics," a self-help tract written by a loopy sci-fi writer with a history of personal and psychological problems that used to be advertised on daytime television. Zoroastrianism it ain't.

If you'd like to read more about why Scientology is really strange, I'd recommend Laura Miller's excellent "review" of "Dianetics" from today's Salon. She delves into a lot of valuable information about L. Ron Hubbard's personal idiosyncracies and how they influenced his "religion."

Hey, Hey, BTK, How Many Families Did You Kill Today?

I know it has been a few weeks since our last Braffy nomination. For that, I sincerely apologize. But there's been some volatile action behind the scenes here...I'm afraid I have a rather sad announcement...Cedric the Entertainer will be unable to host the Braffy awards ceremony, now tentatively set for mid-July.

It seems, like Dave Chappelle, Cedric is burned out on celebrity life, and needs to take a long South African vacation. He told me he will be hanging out with his Muslim spiritual advisor, and is considering a full-on conversion to Islam. His new name, by the way, will be Mohammad Mohammad Saddiq the Non-Entertainer, Because Entertainment Is An Affront to Allah, which is kind of a cool name, I guess, even if it probably won't easily fit on a marquee.

So I was faced with a massive replacement host problem. Who to get? Who could possibly represent what the Braffies were all about as succinctly as Cedric the Entertainer? More important, who was so queer for fame, they would accept an invitation to host an awards ceremony for a low-on-readership satirical blog whose author mainly wanted to insult him?

The answer was obvious...Sean Hannity. He'll be guest-blogging in the next few days, as a way to introduce himself to all of you, my blessed, special readers. So look out for that. And look out for this next Braffy nomination, our first genuine, verified mass murderer!



That dazzling young man is none other than Dennis Rader, the charming fellow who has admitted to an ongoing killing spree that has shocked and appalled the town of Wichita, Kansas since the 1970's. Rader has admitted to 10 different killings, which he refers to as "projects". Sorry, ladies, but he's already taken...married for 35 years with TWO GROWN CHILDREN!

Rader, 60, of Park City, entered the guilty pleas as his trial was to begin.

Referring to his victims as "projects," Rader laid out for the court how he would "troll" for victims on his off-time, then stalk them and kill them.

BTK, by the way, is a name Rader chose for himself in one of his many communications over the years taunting the police. It stands for "Bind, Torture, Kill," which was my third guess. After "Bleu Cheese, Tartar Sauce, Ketchup" and "Byron, Tennyson, Kipling."

Yeah, he was one of those cinematic serial killers who would send the police clues about his crimes and identities. In fact, it was one of these stupid clues that wound up getting him caught.

After years of silence, the killer resurfaced last year with a letter to The Wichita Eagle that included photos of the 1986 strangulation of Vicki Wegerle and a photocopy of her missing driver's license. Her case had not been linked to BTK until then.

That letter was followed by several other cryptic messages and packages. The break in the case came after a computer diskette the killer had sent was traced to Rader's church.

His church! He was taunting the police using discs stolen from his church!

Now, I've been thinking this for a long time, but I can't keep quiet any longer. It is clear to me that lots of adults who attend church are also guilty of violent crimes. Like the Washington DC sniper. Surely we can't deny any longer that church is clearly to blame. People hear these violent sermons and they want to go out and copycat that violence. These are adults with impressionable little minds. It's high time we banned church, so that people will stop being violent towards one another.

Oh, and we'll have to get rid of The Matrix, too, obviously.

All sarcasm aside, I really don't get the "taunt the police with evidence" concept. I mean, yeah, maybe you're so brilliant, you've thought out all the scenarios and there's no way to be caught...it's still an unneccessary risk. And isn't getting away with murdering an entire family enough of a "fuck you" to the cops? Do you really have to rub their noses in it after the fact as well? What did they ever do to you?

And, I mean, imagine getting caught because you stupidly sent a disc to the cops that they then traced! This guy will be in jail for the rest of his life because of that one little dumb mistake. Oh, he must want to kill himself, considering the state won't do it for him. (They don't have the death penalty in Kansas, or at least, they didn't at the time Rader was committing his misdeeds).

When questioned by the judge about the motivation for the Otero slayings, Rader said: "That was part of what you call my fantasy."

Pressed further, Rader said, "Sexual fantasy, sir."

Rader has not been accused of sexually assaulting his victims, but he admitted masturbating over some of them.

If anyone out there feels any sort of compulsion to whack it over a freshly-killed corpse, I have an alternate suggestion for you. First, go hire a prostitute. I'd suggest the cheapest prostitute possible, because what do you care if she's attractive or not? You're just going to masturbate over her pretend "corpse" to begin with. Her being ugly will probably enhance the effect.

Then, apply some make-up to look like she's been beaten or had her throat slit or whatever sick crap you're into. Then, have her lie motionless on the floor in front of you.

Okay, so then, go about your dirty, sinful business. When you're done, pay the girl and get the hell out of there. Done, done and done. And, if you really really can't help it, fine, go ahead and actually kill her. Hey, it's better than killing a whole family. Just do the right thing, and give her pimp an extra couple bucks afterwards. That's just good manners.

Yes, you're out maybe $100 (unless you didn't take my advice and went for a more expensive escort, but that's just wasteful), but there's very little chance you'll do any serious jail time. And the wife and kids probably will never find out. That's much better than having them find out you've been spending your time laying waste to whole families, then masturbating on them, then taking pictures of them and sending them to the cops from church.

Now here's, to me, the single most troubling aspect of this entire situation:

He described to the court how he chose his victims.

"If you've read much about serial killers, they go through what they call different phases. In the trolling stage, basically, you're looking for a victim at that time. You can be trolling for months or years, but once you lock in on a certain person, you become a stalker. That might be several of them but you really hone in on one person. They basically become the ... that's the victim. Or at least that's what you want it to be."

Doesn't this guy sound rational? I mean, he's describing the behavior of serial killers like he read a bunch of books about them, not like he's one of them. I always thought of these guys as utterly disconnected from reality - psychos acting purely on crazed, homicidal instinct. I thought a guy like BTK killed because of some deep, poorly understood compulsion that science has yet to figure out.

But this guy seems fully aware of what he was doing. He knew purposefully that he was following a pattern established by other serial killers. It's almost as if he refined his abilites intentionally, as a knowing part of a larger sub-culture. I mean, "they go through what they call different phases"? Do serial killers actually refer to their "work" in those terms?

Well, I guess I'm entering my stalking stage now, as I've located a proper victim and will now begin following her...

Is that how serial killers think? I always imagined something more like..."The voices in my head command me to kill this girl and feast upon her duodenum! I'm covered in ants! STOP LOOKING AT ME!!"

It's way more scary if these guys are fully self-aware. Like, they're walking around, thinking about being a serial killer, observing their own behavior with emotional distance, recording their actions like data. Chilling...

Even his confession that he kills becuase of "sexual fantasies" is kind of peculiar. If he knows that these are just aberrant sexually deviant feelings, it seems like it would be easier to control them. I mean, if you were fully rational, and it got into your head that you couldn't find any inner piece without murdering a whole bunch of people someday, what would you do? Calmly decide to become a serial killer, or seek immediate professional help?

Silly Love Kongs

Good sweet lord. The first trailer for King Kong is online right now, and words are kind of failing me, which kind of defeats the entire purpose of having a blog. This thing looks really tremendous. Jack Black, Adrien Brody, Naomi Watts and an island filled with dinosaurs and giant apes? And that's not even mentioning the period-perfect recreated Manhattan.

You've got to watch this thing immediately. It's going to play before War of the Worlds in a few days, I believe. Audiences are going to collectively shit a brick when they get a look at this stuff.

Welcome to Crazytown, Population: Cruise

I know it hasn't been in the news a lot lately, but Tom Cruise has a new movie out. Oh, yeah, and he also wishes to make it known that he's totally batshit insane.

Of course, first it was that whole "I'm suddenly in love with Katie Holmes!" flipping out on Oprah thing. Whatever. Seemed a little odd to me, but hey, who am I to judge? If I suddenly found myself with a girlfriend who looked like Katie Holmes, I'd probably jump around like a crazed simian myself. It's just unlikely I'd be a guest on Oprah at the time (unless the topic that day was "Overweight Bloggers With Surprisingly Attractive Girlfriends".)

Then, he started going off on Scientology all the time, promoting it publicly and fervently in a way that was fairly unprecedented for the formerly shy and reserved star. I mean, anyone remember the old Tom Cruise? The guy who was married to Nicole Kidman? He used to be really private about his personal life. He used to speak about religion and love and stuff like that only when prompted. These days, he's making more public confessionals than the entire cast of the "Real World."

What happened? Did Team Dianetics finally get pissed at investing all this time into his case without benefit? Maybe they're telling him to start publicizing their particular brand of nutjob semi-spiritual hooey or else.

I don't know. But on Friday, things finally got completely out of hand. I think we can now move from the "Something Weird is Happening With Tom Cruise" phase into the "Tom Cruise has lost his mind" phase. The Cruise Alert Meter has gone from Orange to Yellow. You may officially start to panic.



That's a photo from Friday morning, of your boy TC berating Matt Lauer on the "Today Show" about psychiatry. It's weird. Matt asks a fairly innocent question of Tom about some comments he made a few months ago, about Brooke Shields taking anti-depressants for her severe post-partum depression.

CRUISE: i've never agreed with psychiatry, ever. Before I was a Scientologist I never agreed with psychiatry. and when i started studying the history of psychiatry, i understood more and more why i didn't believe in psychology.//And as far as the Brooke Shields thing is, look. You gotta understand, I really care about Brooke Shields. I-- I think here's a-- a-- a wonderful and talented woman. And-- I wanna see her do well. And I know that-- psychiatry is-- is a pseudo science.

I'm reminded of an interview I read a few years ago with Tom's fellow Scientologist, Fat Actress Kirstie Alley. I love that you can now refer to Kirstie Alley as Fat Actress Kirstie Alley without being deemed cruel or offensive. Anyway, she said that she would not agree to appear on the "Cheers" spin-off "Frasier" because it made a hero out of a psychiatrist.

The interviewer then asked the obvious question...wouldn't it then be wrong to appear with the Frasier character in "Cheers," as he was still a good guy, just not the show's star? She shrugged this off, saying that he was being mocked on "Cheers" but was the hero of "Frasier."

Anyway, I always thought that was stupid.

TOM CRUISE: Matt, you have to understand this. Here we are today where I talk out against drugs and psychiatric abuses of electric shocking people (PH), okay, against their will, of drugging children with them not knowing the effects of these drugs. Do you know what Aderol (PH) is? Do you know Ritalin? Do you know now that Ritalin is a street drug? Do you understand that?

So, already, Tom's kind of sounding strange and paranoid. Connecting a woman taking some relatively mild drugs to treat a genuine diagnosed mental disorder to the one of the most divisive and severe treatments in the history of psychiatry is kind of a stretch. No one suggested electocuting Brooke's uterus. Well, except me.

She's just popping some Zoloft or something.

MATT LAUER: I understand there's abuse of all of these things.

TOM CRUISE: No, you see. Here's the problem. You don't know the history of psychiatry. I do.//

Here's where Cruise starts going totally off the rails. I hate when people use this kind of argument, first of all. The "you'd agree with me if only you knew more about this" thing. Ugh, so obnoxious. It' susually a sign that someone is losing an argument, when they feel the need to fall back on credentials.

And where exactly did Tom learn all this stuff about psychiatry? From Scientologists? Because then, it's clearly biased information, and any educated person knows not to accept information solely from a single, obviously biased source.

So I'd trust Matt Lauer's more limited but reasoned knowledge of psychiatry to Cruise's half-assed expertise.

TOM CRUISE: But what happens, the antidepressant, all it does is mask the problem. There's ways of vitamins and through exercise and various things. I'm not saying that that isn't real. That's not what I'm saying. That's an alteration of what-- what I'm saying. I'm saying that drugs aren't the answer, these drugs are very dangerous. They're mind-altering, anti-psychotic drugs. And there are ways of doing it without that so that we don't end up in a brave new world. // the thing that I'm saying about Brooke is that there's misinformation, okay. And she doesn't understand the history of psychiatry. She-- she doesn't understand in the same way that you don't understand it, Matt.

Were I Matt Lauer, and the biggest superstar in the world had just tossed this kind of insane rant my way, I genuinely don't know how I would react. I'd probably try to steer the conversation back to more comfortable ground.

"So, yeah, psychiatry's weird, how about that. Tell me, did you an Anthony Edwards really pal around on the set of Top Gun, or is it all just an act? Because you two look, like, totally natural together."

I mean, first off, he refers to all anti-depressents as "anti-psychotic" drugs, which isn't exactly true. Or true at all. Most of them are anti-anxiety drugs, and I guess that's a family that includes anti-psychotic drugs, but it's inaccurate to refer to them as the same thing. Also, he's using the term "anti-psychotic" because it's weighted - it sounds really serious, because if you're psychotic, you're a mad dog killer. But really, it's just a name, like any other scientific name, for a family of medication.

Also, can you imagine going to a doctor for severe depression and him prescribing "vitamins or something"? You'd probably punch him through the wall. If you could gather the strength, that is.

I also like that Tom argues psychiatry is filled with misinformation. Almost as if a guy just made it up about less than 100 years ago. Like some Southern California science fiction writer just dreamt up this thing called "psychiatry" and started writing books about it and encouraging famous and wealtyh people to join him.

Oh, wait...I got mixed up...

MATT LAUER: Well, if antidepressants work for Brooke Shields, why isn't that okay?

TOM CRUISE: I-- I disagree with it. And I think that there's a higher and better quality of life. And I think that promoting for me personally, see, you're saying what, I can't discuss what I wanna discuss?

Now at this part, Tom starts to feel kind of backed into a corner, I guess, so he starts using two different, equally classic George W. Bush tactics. Check it out.

(1) When asked why someone else should be banned from engaging in an activity to which he objects, he doesn't offer an actual argument, but repeats his initial objection.

Why can't Brooke Shields take antidepressants? "I disagree with it." Why can't gay people get married? "I disagree with it." Why can't we do research on stem cells? "I disagree with it." Well, tough shit, Tom.

(2) Rather than defending his point of view as valid, he insists on his right to express a point of view regardless of its validity.

He doesn't say "Psychiatry is wrong and this study/essay/theory proves it!" He says "I'm allowed to criticize psychiatry." Well, of course you're allowed, but that doesn't mean you actually have anything salient to say.

TOM CRUISE: Matt. Matt, Matt, you don't even-- you're glib. You don't even know what Ritalin is.// //if you start talking about chemical imbalance, you have to evaluate and read the research papers on how they came up with these theories, Matt, okay. That's what I've done. Then you go and you say where's-- where's the medical test? Where's the blood test that says how much Ritalin you're supposed to get?

MATT LAUER: You're-- you're-- it's very impressive to listen to you. Because clearly, you've done the homework. And-- and you know the subject.

I've included this part both because it makes Tom Cruise sound like a lunatic, and because it shows the depth of Matt Lauer's ass-kissery. Seriously. The man in front of his is spouting garbled nonsense about Ritalin. It's supposed to be an interview about War of the Worlds, but it's starting to sound more like a retarded guy reading aloud from Battlefield Earth.

And Matt somehow finds the strength deep within himself to praise the guy. Imagine if your job was like that. All the time, morons would come in and yell some bullshit at you about whatever crap was on their minds, and when it was over, you had to compliment them. "Hey, that was some interesting bullshit. You're a thoughtful guy."

It must get old fast.

MATT LAUER: You-- you're so passionate about it. And I'm--

TOM CRUISE: I'm passionate about learning. I'm passionate about life, Matt.

So, there you have it. Hard-hitting news man Matt Lauer once again gets all the facts. Tom Cruise: passionate about his loony, fictional religion.

High Roller: The Stu Ungar Story

Goddammit, why do all poker movies have to suck? Seriously. It's an interesting game. It's inherently dramatic. Poker rooms around the country are genuinely filled with funny, interesting characters. I mean, what could be more intense than gambling? It's conflict in its most pure form - two players, only one winner.

And yet the movies about poker just don't ever get it right. They never seem to trust the game itself to maintain viewer interest. The movie is always over-directed, over-explained or distracting, because the filmmakers want to include everyone, even people who don't care about poker. But fuck that - you want to make a poker movie, make a movie about people who play poker, not the same old tired "fall from grace" bullshit but set in a casino.

High Roller: The Stu Ungar Story tells, yes, the true story of three-time World Series of Poker champion Stu Ungar, who died at 45 in a motel room following years of drug abuse, alcoholism and degenerate gambling. This is an interesting story. Ungar was something of a child prodigy at cards, and yet his success was undermined for his entire life by his outrageous gambling addiction. He would lose up to $100,000 in a single day on football. He would lose $1000 on a stupid double-or-nothing bet after a night of winning at gin rummy. He would repeatedly blow thousands on games he knew nothing about, when he was virtually guaranteed to win if only he stuck to cards.

So why doesn't writer-director A.W. Vidmer allow the story to unfold naturally? He needlessly complicates the film, mainly by adding a ridiculous, corny "bookend" featuring Stu (Michael Imperioli) narrating his life story to a disembodied Grim Reaper figure (for real). It's embarrassing. I'm thinking Vidmer decided to make a poker film more because it's, like, totally hot right now, rather than any appreciation for the game.



Stu was a real guy, but that doesn't stop Vidmer from retelling his story in a thoroughly formulaic, trite fashion. I mean, first of all, there's that "narration from beyond the grave" bullshit, which made me want to shut the movie off in the first 10 minutes.

But then, we get 20 minutes (!) of material featuring Stu as a kid, dealing with his overly-strict Jewish dad and a local gangster (Michael Nouri) who takes the boy under his wing. This stuff essentially riffs on the same ideas as in Goodfellas, and the casting later of Imperioli (himself a 'Fellas vet) and Steve Schrippa, Mike's "Sopranos" co-star, as his friend Anthony kind of cements the entire idea.

Basically, Stu is a total shit. He loves his wife Angela (Renee Faia) but he also likes to blow thousands at the track, fuck strippers and do lots of blow. He can win almost any time he sits down at the card table, but still loses it all on sports gambling, at the racetrack or on stupid side pots. And even on the rare occasions that he's sober, he's self-involved, whiny, manipulative and lacking in any sort of real personality.

But, a movie about a total shit, I could deal with. I like Owning Mahoney a good deal, and that's about a pathetic gambling addict who screws over everyone in his life (and embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars from the bank where he works). But Mahoney in that film is kind of fascinating. He seems to thrive on losing, and as he digs himself a deeper and deeper hole, it's terrific to watch the brilliant slow-burn performance of star Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

I don't know if Imperioli is capable of that sort of performance, because High Roller never even gives him the chance. It's much more straight-forward. Brilliant guy wins at cards. Receives admiration. Messes up repeatedly. Loses everything. Dies penniless and alone. Message: gambling's bad, wife and kids rule.

Sigh...I'm sure this guy's life had some left turns in it, took some unexpected twists. That's what the game of poker itself is all about - you think you have it figured out, but you don't until everyone turns over his/her cards. I had High Roller figured out in ten minutes flat.

Oh, and it looks cheap, a lot of the supporting actors suck (particularly the kid playing the Young Stu...sorry, little guy...).

And one more thing we've got to talk about. The constant, atrocious musical montages. There are no less than 10 musical montages in the film. Every change in Stu's life is set to some really loud, horribly obnoxious, cheesedick country song. For real. So, it's like, Stu making a big wager in a poker tournament with Big & Rich wailing about cowboys in the background. Then (for real!), Stu shopping for meat while some chick wails about how her man done left her. It's absolutely atrocious. How about you write a concise scene that expresses a goddamn idea, Vidmer, instead of hoping that country music radio will do your exposition for you, jackass.

Next!

Sallie Mae: One Messed Up Bitch

Okay, so on Thursday, I wrote this post about the harrassment I've received from the Sallie Mae Corporation this week about my ongoing non-payment of my student loans.

It's a fairly complicated fiduciary matter, but allow me to sum it up thusly for the laymen in the Inertia audience...Sallie Mae shelled out $40,000 for me to get a useless Master's degree from USC, and now they want that money back. Unfortunately, at this time, I can no more afford to pay off my student loans than Donald Trump's April Visa bill. So, in other words, they can call my cell phone at odd hours all they like, but unless Harvey Weinstein has just bought my screenplay without my knowledge, they ain't getting a dime out of my any time soon.

This morning, I received the latest in a string of annoying, early phone calls. Well, for me, they're early. Today's arrived at 10:30, which doesn't seem early, but when I tell you that it's one of my two days off, and that I went to a party and drank last night, and that the children outside are already very noisy, maybe you will understand why I'd rather not take calls.

But, stupidly, in a half-awake daze, I answered the phone. A chipper lady informed me that Sallie Mae wanted her fucking money or she was gonna take my thumbs.

No, no, not quite. What she said was that she represented some mysterious, yakuza-like organization known as the "Ed. Fund" (or, in some circles, the Dark Army of the Night). The "Ed. Fund" was "concerned" about my payment of my loans, and wanted to advise me on some future action.

The first thing they suggested? That I start paying my loans! Isn't that weird? That some helpful company, out of nowhere, would take it upon themselves to call me early on a Saturday and instruct me to pay my Sallie Mae loans? For no benefit to themselves, just out of concern for me? It's sweet, really.

I think it's now safe to say that Sallie Mae has taken a personal interest in leaning on me for this money. I don't know why. Perhaps when I signed up for the loan, I accidentally checked the "three points off the vig" box, and my interest has now accumulated to several hundred thousand dollars. Perhaps a sworn enemy of mine works the phone bank at Sallie Mae. I'm not quite sure. But whatever the reason, they're after me, and I'm not sure I'll live out the weekend.

Anyway, I explained to the helpful and not-at-all obnoxiously chirpy "Ed Fund" representative that I had already requested a three-month deferrment, and that I didn't really need any more of their super-terrific awesome helpful advice. BUT SHE WASN'T DONE YET! No, no!

"Well, can you fax us in your economic hardship form, so we can verify it's filled out properly?"

What, what? Oh, come on! It's not even 11 in the morning on a Saturday. I refuse to even hear the word "fax" on my day off. Someone calling me, waking me upon a Saturday and telling me to go fuck myself would, to my mind, be more civil than calling me and asking me to fax them stuff.

It's just an unpleasant word. FAX. It sounds like some sort of rendering process or something. "Then, the hog fat slucces down this chute and enters the FAX machine. Here it will be boiled and the impurities will be removed. Please try not to vomit from the smell."

So I refused this request, because I'd already stuffed the form into an envelope and I didn't want to have to get it out again, and because I hated this woman deeply and wanted to get off the phone with her while I still had a few days left in my 20's. She seemed crestfallen, as if the opportunity to look over my personal financial information was genuinely exciting to her. Or maybe they teach you to say that line in that voice.

Anyway, I finally finally got off the phone, and I even made her promise to have Ed. Fund (aka "The 7 Tribes of Kutaku-Olima") stop calling me. You know, seeing as I haven't done anything wrong and don't have any money. Hopefully, they'll take it under consideration. If not, I'll probably be shot and my family will be sent a bill for the bullet. Oh, and that back $40,000 I owe.

Overnight

Had a discussion at Laser Blazer the other day about the nature of Los Angeles. Namely, why Los Angeles is filled with so many massive assholes. Ivan's theory is that this is itself a popular misconception, that Los Angeles has no more or less assholes than any other city. He postulates that people who are themselves obsessed with the entertainment industry think LA is filled with assholes, but that's only because they have chosen to obsess over a business that is filled with assholes.

In other words, one notable breed of Los Angelino tends towards the assholeish, whereas all other Angelinos are perfectly nice, normal Americans, as you'd find in any other American city.

This is bullshit.

Of course, there are some cool, normal, nice people in Los Angeles, as you'd find in any other American city. But there is also a massively disproportionate number of self-involved, boorish, ego-maniacal jerks who think they are somehow better, cooler, hipper or more important than everyone else. This is a fact. And here's why.

Los Angeles attracts assholes like cooling pies on windowsills attract hungry cartoon characters. If you're a self-involved, boorish asshole in Madison, Wisconsin, convinced that you are star material and deserve wealth and fame, where are you gonna move to? Des Moines? Tuscaloosa? Newport News? Walla Walla, Washington?

No! One of two places: New York or LA. And unless you want to be a model, which is a particular, niche sub-strata of asshole, it's probably LA.

So we have a lot of assholes here. A lot. You deal with them all the time. People who are certain they are bound for fame and fortune. But beyond these aspirations, aspirations which many reasonable people share, they carry with them an excessive sense of entitlement. Not only will they be rich and famous, but they deserve it. It has already been promised to them, somehow, and they are eagerly waiting to collect.

I can't think of a better poster child for this obnoxious attitude than pseudo-filmmaker Troy Duffy, the subject of the fantastic documentary Overnight, that hits DVD on Tuesday. (See how I brought that all back around? I'm a fucking genius. Someone hire me to do this for millions of dollars NOW!) The filmmakers are long-time associates of Duffy who served as co-managers for his failed rock group Brood at one point. So, clearly, they have an axe to grind. What they have produced is not so much a definitive dossier on Troy Duffy the man, but a portrait of almost obscene disappointment. Of dreams coming desperately close to realization, only to be cruelly taken away. And even worse, fo that disappointment coming as the result of one's own mistakes and personal flaws. It's sometimes funny, but always heart-breaking.



Troy Duffy made headlines in 1997 as one of those heartwarming rags-to-riches type local news stories. A Boston native, blue-collar all his life with dreams of stardom, he worked in West Hollywood as a bartender. By nights, he wrote the script that would start a bidding war in Hollywood, a post-Tarantino pulp riff called "The Boondock Saints."

Eventually, Miramax co-chair Harvey Weinstein would buy "Boondock Saints" for an exhorbitant sum in a deal that included a number of outrageous perks for Duffy. Not only could he direct his own script, despite never having directed anything before in his life, but his band, Brood, could produce the soundtrack. As well, Weinstein promised to invest with Duffy in the West Hollywood bar where he worked.

Well, things didn't quite work out. Overnight chronicles Duffy's split with Weinstein, and then the long and troubled process of getting the film made and distributed. See, Harvey Weinstein's kind of a powerful guy in Hollywood. (When a low-level film producer is asked in the film how much power Weinstein has in Hollywood, she answers "all of it.") When he decides he doesn't like you, and he doesn't want your film to be made, things get kind of tough for you.

Amazingly, Duffy does manage to secure the ability to make Boondock Saints, which debuted rather successfully in 2000 as a direct-to-video title. But his arrogance, greed and delusional self-aggrandizement undo any chance of personal success, career or otherwise. During the course of the film, Duffy will alienate not only some of Hollywood's powerful elite, but his agents, friends, fellow band members, and his own brother, Taylor.

Duffy exhibits all the notable attributes of the Hollywood asshole. He never speaks (on-camera, at least) about his desire to do anything but obtain massive wealth and exert massive influence. For a man striving to become both a musician and filmmaker at once, he's not driven by any sort of creative or artistic impulse. Only the base desire to accumulate.

Despite not yet having secured an album deal, Duffy already speaks as if he's Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney rolled into one. Absurdly, he wears a hat emblazoned with a "Boondock Saints" logo before the film has even entered pre-production. He repeatedly declares himself the first man in history to secure a record contract while producing his first feature-film. More than once, he speaks of going toe-to-toe with Miramax, and defeating them within the industry they partially control.

Duffy is drunk through most of the film. Whether this is a function of the filmmakers bias or Duffy's real life behavior is unknown to me. What I do know is that you could follow me around with a camera for a decade, and not get this many shots of me falling on my ass after slugging too much Jack Daniels. Close, but not quite this many.

It's his paranoid aggression that eventually drives those closest to him from his side. When the band secures a record contract and garners a cash advance, the filmmakers are denied any compensation. Duffy explains that they only worked hard for the band hoping to get something in return, so they don't deserve anything. It's confused, twisted logic, obviously designed to cheat them out of money. Overnight, I suspect, is their revenge.

But despite the personal motives of Tony Montana (yes, that's how he's credited) and Mark Brian Smith, Overnight is a remarkably touching success. It's one-sided, in that the filmmakers obviously dislike Duffy and seek to portray him as a jackass (this doesn't seem very difficult), but they don't totally ignore some of the complexities at the edges of the story.

They grant that, as written, "Boondock Saints" was a pretty good script that deserved a shot. And they definitely lend credence to the theory that Harvey Weinstein buried the movie out of spite, having disliked Duffy's arrogance and resented his lack of appreciation for Miramax and Weinstein's generocity. And the filmmakers even include themselves in the very sad montage that ends the film, showing Duffy and all his friends, who had once been so sure of their success and financial security, working day jobs and living like schlubs. (Montana is seen tossing down shots in J. Sloan's, the same bar Duffy worked at the film's beginning).

This is a terrific movie, one of those documentaries that came together purely out of divine providence. The fact that Smith and Montana were right there the entire time with cameras, to document the rise and fall of this sad little man, is something of a miracle. Overnight might be hard to hunt down in mainstream video stores - who knows...maybe Blockbuster will carry it - but if you can find it, watch it. It will grant you at least some perspective on why LA is pretty much the worst city in the world. Except maybe Baghdad.

Bugsy

The entire time I was watching Bugsy, I kept remembering Martin Scorsese's The Aviator from last year. The films take place within 10 years of one another, with Aviator opening in the 30's and Bugsy in the 40's. They are both autobiographies of notorious dreamers; Scorsese's film takes on the remarkably ambitious yet mentally ill Howard Hughes, while Barry Levinson's Bugsy looks at ambitious yet neurotic gangland figure Benjamin Siegel (Bugsy to the press). They were both outsiders who fell in love with the style, glamour and women of Hollywood.

But beyond these surface details, the films share a fealty for the past, a desire to create not just a portrait of a memorable historical figure, but a panorama of this period in American history. Both succeed on some level, though I'd say Aviator is by far the greater film, more heartfelt, more nuanced, more imaginative, and far more cinematic. Bugsy doesn't so much envelop the viewer into the fully-realized world of period Hollywood the way Scorsese does, but the film does get a lot of the details right, and it does tell a fairly remarkable true story.



All the famous gangster names from the 40's kind of get jumbled together, and people don't really remember what each individual guy was known for. There's Mickey Cohen, Meyer Lansky, Bugsy Siegel, Bugsy Malone, Legs Diamond, Dutch Schultz, Lucky Luciano...and a whole shitload more. Lots of contemporary films have tried to reenact their struggles for power and the inner-workings of their relationship, but it tends to become overwhelming, complex and unsatisfying. Remember Mobsters? Or Hoodlum?

Bugsy screenwriter James Toback instead focuses on just the Benny Siegel story (though it involves Lansky, Cohen, Luciano and other notable figures from the criminal underground fo the time). This makes sense, both because star Warren Beatty had worked to get a film made about Bugsy for many years, but also because of Toback's career-long fascination with gamblers.

At its heart, that's what Bugsy is all about. A man so obsessed with gambling that he continually and pathologically put everything in his life at risk. Meyer Lansky (played in the film's best performance by Ben Kingsley) says about his childhood friend that "Benny never cared for money," and we come to see that this is true. Money is merely the means to an end; it is useful only in that it can be sacrificed in the realization of some grander vision.

For a businessman like Lansky, money is the end point, the final result of a lifetime of hard work. But for Siegel, it exists only to provide him with attractive women, respect, fame and power.

The film focuses on two significant events in Siegel's life. The first is his meeting Virginia Hill (Annette Bening) while hanging out on a movie set with his friend, actor George Raft (Joe Mantegna, who oddly doesn't look or sound anything like the real George Raft). Though Siegel's married with two children at the time, he will eventually leave his family for Hill, the love of his life. The second is his visit to a small bar/casino owned by Meyer Lansky in the Nevada desert.

Famously, Beatty and Bening actually fell in love during the filming of this movie, and their real story kind of echoes the one they're acting out. An older womanizer meets a striking younger beauty on a film set and falls in love with her. So it's strange that the romance never really comes alive on screen.

He's a terrific actor and I don't want to fade him because once he was very nice to me, but Warren Beatty is kind of the problem here. In the scenes focusing on Siegel's raw ambition, Beatty is great, adapting a kind of fast-talking, shifty demeanor that's kind of different from any other performance of his that comes to mind. But he seems kind of distracted during the scenes with Bening. The plot turns on Siegel's complete devotion to Hill, but when they're together in the film, he doesn't ever even seem that into her.

Late in the film, LA gang leader Mickey Cohen (Harvey Keitel) warns Benny that Virginia may be stealing from him. Benny reacts angrily, violently, denying that it could ever be possible. It's the first time we've seen him express his love for Virginia emotionally. Unfortunately, by that point, the relationship has been established and the plot's final movements have already been set into place.

That scene, though, brings up the other real shortcoming in the Beatty performance. Bugsy Siegel had a massive temper, and there are several points in the film in which he's called upon to explode in rage or even violently attack someone. Beatty never convinces us of this man's internal struggle with anger or that he would ever be an imposing threat to those around him. Maybe it's that Warren's a few years older than anyone else in the principal cast, or maybe it's that he tends to play reserved, thoughtful guys rather than mad dogs. But whatever the reason, his attempts to portray Siegel's sociopathic criminal tendencies aren't believable, and even get a bit silly at times.

Considering his emotional attachment to this material, it's surprising Beatty didn't simply direct the film himself, rather than turning over the reigns to Barry Levinson. I like Levinson, he's made some good films (Tin Men being a particular favorite of mine) and he does a nice job. The film has a really old-fashioned kind of visual style that's obviously appropriate to the material, and the realization of 40's Union Station in LA or of the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas upon its initial opening is handled really well.

But the whole thing's a touch obvious, a bit clear from the beginning. I mean, obviously, the film is based on true historical events, so you can't fudge the truth to make it more surprising at the end. But there's this feeling of inevitability over the proceedings that I didn't really care for.

An example: there's a whole sequence, set in Cuba, in which Lansky, Luciano and other gang leaders from America discuss the Bugsy situation and how to handle it. We're tipped off at this point that they all basically want Bugsy dead, and that his friendship with Meyer is the only thing keeping him alive.

It's a nice scene, and of course it's fun to see all of these notorious, iconic figures in such a setting, but it also kills the momentum of the film's final act. Most regrettably, Toback then provides Kingsley with a silly monologue that essentially explains the theme of the movie to the audience. "Benny's a dreamer. He didn't care about money. He wanted to build something that would last." And on and on.

But even before that, the movie insists on foreshadowing Benny's fate constantly, and nothing makes a film feel flat more than constant telescoping, setting up exactly what's to come. It makes the entire experience of film-viewing feel rote. Films, particularly crime films, should never feel this obvious, whether or not you already know the story going in.

Like its subject, the film Bugsy is kind of a dreamer. It hopes to be a searing American epic, a romantic biography of an iconic figure told in big, bold strokes. It never quite gets there. But it's nice to see a movie with oversized ideas anyway, I suppose, even if it's not The Aviator every time.

A Play in Five Acts

Lons' masterwork, entitled "Five Stupid Conversations I've Had While Working Retail," premiered at Los Angeles' Geffen Playhouse in April of 2005.

ORIGINAL LOS ANGELES CAST:

Lons - Jude Law
Customer #1 - Jason Schwartzman
Customer #2 - Bea Arthur
Customer #3 - Vin Diesel
Customer #4 - Molly Shannon
Customer #5 - Jim Broadbent
Sig - Luis Guzman
Ivan - Patton Oswalt
Mark Hamill - Himself
Robert Carradine - Himself

We present here the full text of the play.

FIVE STUPID CONVERSATIONS

I'VE HAD WHILE WORKING RETAIL

A Play in Five Acts

SCENE 1

[A reasonably crowded suburban Barnes & Noble store. CUSTOMER #1, a young man wearing a band T-shirt and oversized, baggy shorts, enters clutching a loose leaf piece of paper. He's walking with purpose towards the information desk. Behind the desk, picking grime from beneath his fingernails, is LONS.]

CUSTOMER #1

Hi. I'm doing a report and I need a few books.

LONS

Uh-huh.

CUSTOMER #1

I need to find some stuff on the Spanish Inquisition.

LONS

Back there in history.

CUSTOMER #1

Okay, so is that in fiction or what?

LONS

What?

CUSTOMER #1

Wait...Is fiction the stuff that's true or the stuff that's fake?

SCENE 2

[The same Barnes and Noble store, slightly less crowded than before. CUSTOMER #2, an older lady, comes in carrying a massive, overstuffed purse. She walks to the Information Desk after wandering around aimlessly for a moment.]

CUSTOMER #2

Do you work here?

[Lons looks around in amazement...He is, after all, behind the Information Desk.]

LONS

Um, yeah.

CUSTOMER #2

I need a book for my son.

LONS

Okay.

CUSTOMER #2

He needs it for his English class.

LONS

Okay.

CUSTOMER #2

It's a play. It's called "Hamlet." I don't know the author.

SCENE 3

[Laser Blazer, a large, bright, well-stocked DVD store, hums with activity on a weekday afternoon. LONS and IVAN stand behind the counter, busying themselves, when CUSTOMER #3, a real mook wearing a wifebeater and sweaty from a workout, enters. He hands LONS a DVD.]

CUSTOMER #3

Yeah, I just want to return this.

LONS

Okay.

[He enters some information into the computer.]

LONS

Actually, there's a $1 late fee, because it's a day late.

CUSTOMER #3

When was it due?

LONS

Um...yesterday.

SCENE 4

[Laser Blazer, much the same as before, except now a batty old lady, CUSTOMER #4, is browsing around. LONS and SIG stand behind the counter, cleaning discs and labeling. CUSTOMER #4 walks up to the counter carrying a stack of movies.]

CUSTOMER #4

I'm looking for a specific movie...Maybe you guys can help me.

SIG

We'll try.

CUSTOMER #4

It's a remake of this old Cary Grant movie...

LONS

Okay...

CUSTOMER #4

It stars Matt Damon.

SIG

Hmm....

LONS

Hmm...

CUSTOMER #4

I think it was out a few years ago.

LONS

I can't actually think of a Grant remake with Damon...

SIG

Me either.

CUSTOMER #4

I think it was a remake of Charade.

SIG

Oh, that was The Truth About Charlie.

CUSTOMER #4

Oh, great!

LONS

Except, it stars Mark Wahlberg, not Matt Damon.

CUSTOMER #4

What? Oh, that's not it, then.

LONS

No, it is.

CUSTOMER #4

No, no, this had Matt Damon.

SIG

I don't think he ever remade Charade.

LONS

He didn't. You're think of Truth About Charlie. And it sucks anyway.

SIG

Yeah, that's what you mean.

CUSTOMER #4

It was Matt Damon. Oh, well, I guess you guys just don't have it.

SCENE 5

[Laser Blazer is packed and buzzing with activity. There's currently some sort of autographing event going on in the background. Star Wars star MARK HAMILL can clearly be seen on the panel, as can Revenge of the Nerds star ROBERT CARRADINE.]

[A large man, CUSTOMER #5, speaking in a bizarrely-forced English accent and looking by all accounts like a homeless person, waits patiently in line. After a brief period, he reaches the front register, where LONS is waiting to assist him.]

CUSTOMER #5

Yes, I'd like to purchase these movies.

LONS

Okay.

CUSTOMER #5

You may recognize my voice, I do a terrific amount of voice-over work.

LONS

Okay.

CUSTOMER #5

I just finished working on the new PIXAR film, it's called Razzamatazz. It won't be out until 2007 though, I'm afraid.

LONS

Okay.

CUSTOMER #5

It was lovely to see Bobby Carradine and Mark again. We simply must work together some time soon, you know. I've worked with so many of the great ones.

LONS

You're insane.

[Here, the CUSTOMER notices a DVD box set next to the counter. He looks at it with affection.]

CUSTOMER #5

Oh, you have that new Christopher Lee set of Hammer films. He's a dear old friend of mine. We first worked together almost 30 years ago, can you believe that?

LONS

Move along, sir, or I'll be forced to kill you with my bare hands.

CUSTOMER #5

I spent a good deal of time at his estate in New Hampfordshire. Massive place, you know.

[LONS leaps over the counter and begins to strangle CUSTOMER #5 to death.]

[Curtain falls.]

THE END

Loans and Groans

I don't use the Master's Degree I earned a few years back from USC. In fact, I've never really even considered a job where the Master's Degree in Communication Management would prove useful. Once, I went for an interview at a production company that owned a lot of comic book properties, and I think maybe the degree would have been useful had I got the job, but I'm pretty sure they hired someone more adorable than me to run their office.

And I can't blame them. I'd rather come in to work every day and look at some beautiful, statuesque Los Angeles co-ed than a paunchy, sweaty bearded guy, regardless of his educational background. (Well, unless he went to Bartending School - then he might be worth keeping around).

In fact, the Master's Degree as a concept seems like half a scam at this point. My program only lasted about 2 years, which I wouldn't say it quite enough time to "master" any given subject, particularly one as massive in scope as "Communication" and the management thereof. But "vague familiarity" doesn't sound as good as "Master," and USC has to get students to enroll, after all. So, VFD (Vague Familiarity Degree) gives way to MA or MS.

And even once you have a Master's, and we all assume you've mastered whatever subject you studied, there aren't a lot of opportunities out there open to you in the work force. Most jobs don't require an MA or MS, and quite often, the time a student spent studying was time other people spent actually working their way up in a given profession.

My own life is a perfect case study of this syndrome. I worked my way through the MA program at a post-production company, although several other students simply attended classes without working. When I graduated, I was surprised to discover that most potential employers didn't want to hire me - they were put off by the fact that I hadn't been actively interning at other companies over the past few months, and they were afraid that I was over-educated for entry-level positions.

So you see, the MA really worked against me. I have about $40,000 in student loans...What if I had spent that money to live for a year while working some high-level but non-paying internship? (Now, bear in mind, I personally don't want some high-level internship...Laser Blazer is just fine for me for now...I'm using my situation only as a case study in why Master's Degrees are a total rip). Instead of that useless degree at the end of two years, I might have spent some time climbing the ladder. At the very least, maybe I'd have some kind of paid position waiting for me on the other side.

Which would be useful, because the company that provided my loans, Sallie Mae, apparently thinks it's the Cosa Nostra. Every few months, I start getting harrassing phone calls. At first, there is no answer from the calls (which arrive from an Unknown Number...so I always think it's my parents...) Then, a message comes on telling me to call Sallie Mae. Then, when I do, it's more computers I have to talk to, and more language I don't understand.

What is a "forebearance" as opposed to a "deferrment." What is "economic strain," really? When you accept that I am under "economic strain," what's the point of continuing to call and harrass me for money? Isn't that like telling someone he has third-stage syphillis and then asking in the same breath how he'd like to plan for retirement?

So all I had to do was fill out a form and send it back to continue delaying payment. I'm sure this will stop working eventually, but it's still working now. I'm not too worried, though...I bet I can still blog from debtor's prison. Might make things more interesting around here, trading in my whiny movie reviews and Worst Person Alive nominations for tales of soap bar beatings.

Do they have soap bar beatings in debtor's prison? To debtor's go to the normal pentientiary with all the rapists and murderers and recreational drug users? Or do they get their own special prison where it's just tax cheats and guys who defaulted on $40,000 in student loans because they were working in video stores? Cause, if things continue the way they are now, I'll be spending some time there.

And can I just ask...what's the deal with calling your vile, money-grubbing loan agency "Sallie Mae"? It makes it sound like you're borrowing money from some sweet old Southern lady who's not going to pressure you to give it back.

"My stars, I sure would like to help y'all out with y'alls education...Here, take this. It may not be much, but it's all that I have."

"Aw, shucks, thank you kindly, Sallie Mae."

"Don't mention it, dearie. I have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

But it's not like that at all. These guys are like fucking Vito Corleone over here. I call up to renew my forebearance, and they tell me that, one day, a Sallie Mae Representative will call me and ask me for a favor and will give me further instructions. They don't have a helpful website, but they do have a bagman.

Life Beyond Google

I want to try an experiment. But before we get into the specifics, let me give you the background.

Today, I found myself discussing albino porn. Now, after doing a brief Google search, I was unable to verify the actual existance of such a thing. That is, I could not access any genuine albino porn through the use of a few basic search engines.

Now, this is disappointing, both because I'd genuinely like to see what an albino porn looks like and because it kind of shakes my faith in the Internet. They say you can find any fetish at all online, any sexual activity imaginable has its own devoted fanbase somewhere online, right? So the fact that I can't find any albino porn would seem to indicate that there's a vast untapped market out there. Someone really needs to get on this.

As for albino porn itself, it would probably be just like regular porn, except everyone's really pale. I guess it's possible the actors could get into it, and start doing albino-exclusive dirty talk, but I'm not sure they're all that clever. I've almost run out of funny albino jokes, and we're only a few paragraphs in. Imagine if I had to riff on this for 20 minutes and maintain an erection. It'd be tricky...

But here's the weird part...Even though I couldn't find any actual albino porn links, a Google search for the subject "albino porn" brings up over 3,300 results. It's something people are talking about.

Which brings us to the experiment. Can you think of a phrase that's obscure but still sensible, that doesn't bring up any results on Google? It can be the combination of two things that are incongruous - like "monkey lamp" - but not completely nonsensical, like "toadstool protestantism."

Oh, and don't actually use "monkey lamp," because it brings up almost 9,500 results.

I'm tempted to say no one will actually be able to stump Google with a genuinely sensical phrase. Remember, we're looking for concepts that are physically possible but just haven't been discussed at all on the Internet, not phrases that make so little sense, no one has ever thought to put tme together before.

Good luck!

Giving an Arm and a Leg

It's important to read obscure Australian science news websites. Or at least, it's important to read the FARK links associated with obscure Australian science news websites. Where else would I have found out this information?

People should be able to have healthy limbs removed by choice, say two Australian philosophers who are exploring the phenomenon of "amputee wannabes".

Amputee wannabes become obsessed with cutting off a particular part of their body, even though it may be healthy.Past research has suggested this rare condition may be because they believe their body part is diseased or ugly, because the notion of becoming an amputee sexually excites them, or because of a mismatch between their body and their image of it.

Cutting off your arm for sexual excitement? I've heard of rough sex, but this is ridiculous...I once slept with a woman who was missing an arm - she liked to do it three-legged doggy style. When I met my wife, she called me disarming - she'd rather chew off her own arm than date me. I tell you, I get no respect, no respect at all.

Sorry, slipped into Dangerfield mode for a second there. I feel better now.

I'm just wondering how any sort of professional can approve of sanctioning people to remove their own limbs for sexual excitement. I mean, even if that's the greatest orgasm ever, once it's over, you've got one less leg. Now how are you supposed to go to the kitchen for a snack? You can't - you've only got one leg. And forget if you want to go at it again a few minutes later.

Dr Tim Bayne of Macquarie University and Dr Neil Levy from the University of Melbourne argue that people who want a healthy body part amputated are suffering from a condition known as body integrity identity disorder (BIID), or amputee identity disorder.

Writing in the latest issue of the Journal of Applied Philosophy they say "such amputations should be morally permissible" on the grounds that people with BIID are not "globally irrational" and that they are experiencing suffering that can be alleviated through amputation.

What are they basing this stuff on? Someone who appeals to the government to allow the voluntary removal of your healthy limb isn't irrational? That's like the dictionary definition of irrational. Look, this is not like having your tonsils removed. Imagine only having one leg; you can't get around. I know lots of people in LA who can't live a few days without their cars, and they have fully functioning undercarriages.

And missing an arm? Voluntarily? I hope you don't want to play on the company softball team, jackass.

That's the sort of decision you don't make lightly. "Do I really want to ditch this whole left arm thing and just go with the right one? I mean, the left one doesn't quite feel right. I know it's attached to my shoulder and all, which would seem to mean it belongs on my body, but I don't know...it somehow lacks integrity..."

The authors also say that people who don't have access to a surgeon may attempt to cut off a limb themselves or may damage it to the point that amputation is necessary.

"Surgery might be the least of all evils," they write. "Where a wannabe has a long standing and informed request for amputation, it therefore seems permissible for a surgeon to act on this request."

An informed request for amputation? An informed request?

And, by the way, where are the links to the stories about people cutting off their own limbs in their home workshops? That's the stuff I want to read! Not more of these Social Security, Iraq, missing Aruba chick articles! Come through for me, Fox News!

The first person to use the term BIID was US psychiatrist Associate Professor Michael First from Columbia University, who interviewed 52 wannabes as part of a recent study which has been submitted for publication.

He found that 15% of wannabes identified sexual arousal as a reason for amputation, 63% wanted to be restored to their "true identity" and 37% said the limb "felt different".

Thirteen percent said the limb didn't feel like their own and six people had tried to perform their own amputation, including using a chainsaw.

See, the guy doing the chainsaw amputation had a demon in his hand, okay, that came out of the Necronomicon. So he had no choice but to cut it off.

I have to say, that is some creepy shit. Can you imagine going through life with the feeling that one of your limbs was "not [your] own"? Like, everything else feels normal, but you've just got a phantom shin? Weird...What neurological wackiness could possibly cause a reaction like that? Some neurons just misfire and you develop Frankenstein Shoulder Syndrome.

Levy says it's unclear exactly what causes BIID, although it may be the result of a cortical misalignment between how the brain "sees" the limb and what's really there.

He says in the case of so-called "phantom limbs", people who lose a limb may experience the sensation that it's still there. This is because the way the limb is represented in the brain hasn't caught up with the physical change.

But amputee wannabes may have the limb but not the cortical representation.

Oh...Cool...See, you really learn something by reading the whole article, and not just skimming the first few paragraphs for funny crap.

Stupid is as Stupid Does

I hate Forrest Gump. Sure, I liked it when it first came out. But I was 14 years old.

What's your excuse?

Cause that movie is insane fascist propaganda. Seriously. I've made this case many times in my private life, and now I will frame the argument in brief for you, faithful Inertia reader.

At its heart, Forrest Gump is the story of a relationship, the love of a simple but kind man, Forrest, and his troubled neighbor and one-time sexual partner Jenny. Any simple comparison of these two characters and their story arcs will reveal the film's secret, and sinister, message.

Okay, so Forrest is a good boy. He does what he's told. He doesn't ask questions. He dutifully goes to war when asked, performs as a hero, and is celebrated by his president as a hero afterwards. He plays professional sports. He invests his money in big corporations like Apple. He designs funny, silly little T-shirts that make great gifts. And, of course, he starts up a small business that becomes a massive conglomerate, turning him overnight from a simpleton into a powerful millionaire.

In short, he's the ideal American if you're a CEO or a government official. He's represents mindless consumerism better than any fictional character I can think of - merely by doing what others tell him, he makes money, avoids trouble and leads a happy life free of care or worry.

Now, let's look at Forrest's counterpart, Jenny. She's a rebel. She's constantly questioning both herself and the world around her. She experiments with drugs, she explores her sexuality and she dabbles in political radicalism. She likes folk music and attends anti-war rallies. Oh, and she contemplates suicide, raises a child as a single mom and eventually dies of AIDS.

Do I have to draw you guys a picture? The producers of Forrest Gump are trying to tell you to turn off your brain, to stop thinking for yourself and just accept the corrupt world for what it is. Only then will you achieve any happiness. Those people intent on actually using their mind, well, they're doomed. They're all going to die of AIDS, didn't you know that?

And that's without even getting into the film's political and historical context. It wants to turn Nixon into a joke, Watergate into something light and cute from the past that we can all share a laugh about. And then the depiction of great liberal figures of the civil rights and anti-war movements...offensive caricatures every one of them. How did a film that represents the Black Panthers as a bunch of juvenile buffoons get the reputation as something clever or charming? How did a movie that reduces the entire youth revolt against Vietnam into a skit about screechy obnoxious self-involved hippies become so popular in a town full of ex-hippies?

I have no idea.

Anyway, I find the movie pretty deeply offensive, the kind of movie that I disagree with not just on an aesthetic level but on an emotional level. There's something about the whole idea of revisiting American history through the eyes of an uber-patriotic moron we're meant to admire that just strikes me as creepy and questionable to begin wtih.

I bring up The Gump because of AFI, those rotten bastards. They've just published the latest in their thoroughly useless and dull 100 Years lists, this one celebrating the Best Movie Quotes of the past 100 years. Check out Part 1 of Cinegeeks coverage of the list here. Most of them are pretty obvious, although some of them are oddly out of context.

For example, the line "Nobody's perfect" from Some Like It Hot is on the list, even though it's not funny without Jack Lemmon's line setting it up - "I'm a man!" Even with Lemmon's line, I don't think it's all that funny. To hear film critics talk about Some Like It Hot, "nobody's perfect" is the single most ingenious piece of movie dialogue ever constructred, a sublime gerund the likes of which Rodney Dangerfield, George Carlin, Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy all working in tandem for 1000 years could not equal. I've always thought that movie was mildly amusing and nothing more.

To have that so high, out of context, and then not include a single quote from This is Spinal Tap, (which, though it features a fake English band, is clearly an American film) strikes me as ignorant in the extreme. Also, if I were writing this list, there would be a line more lines like this one from Scanners:

"We're gonna do this the Scanner way. I'm gonna suck your brain dry."

Not once on AFI's list does anyone threaten to suck anyone else's brain dry. Too bad.

Also, no quotes from Ghostbusters? Here are a few to choose from: "Someone blows their nose and you want to keep it?" "That's a big Twinkie." "Nobody steps on a church in my town!" "Ray, the next time someone asks you if you are a god, you say yes!" "I feel like the floor of a taxicab." "Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!"

And those are just off the top of my head, people!

But the one that pisses me off the absolute mostest?

Coming in at #40:

"Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." -
FORREST GUMP

Ugh. 40? The 40th best movie quote ever? Let's look at some other quotes on the list that are below this line:

"Stella! Hey, Stella!" - A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE

"You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?" - DIRTY HARRY

"A boy's best friend is his mother." - PSYCHO

"Say 'hello' to my little friend!" - SCARFACE

"Get your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape." - PLANET OF THE APES

Let me pause here to say that Retard Tom Hanks blubbering about candy on a park bench beating Heston yelling abouty damned dirty apes on any movie list is total 100% bullshit in every way. You need photographic evidence of this point? Say no more!



or



How about that? That do anything for ya?

And, might I also just add, life is nothing fucking like a box of chocolates. Yes, sure, you bite into a chocolate from a box of candy, you don't know whether it will be a butter cream or a cherry cordial or whether it will have nuts or nouget or whatever. But you can rest assured it will be something at least somewhat delicious, unless you are appearing on Monty Python's famous "Crunchy Frog" sketch. I mean, even if you don't like raspberries and the confection you have tasted is filled with that raspberry liquer stuff, it's not exactly a tragic circumstance. You just spit that into a napkin, dump the napkin in the nearest potted plant and go get another piece of candy.

So how, exactly, is that like life? If you make a mistake in life, bite into what you thought was a metaphorical prailine turtle and instead find it's one of those metaphorical gross-out Russell Stover marshmallow monstrocities, you can't just spit it up and dump it. Your'e stuck with your decisions. That's not caramel you're tasting, it's a scorching case of herpes! Or homelessness! Or any one of the millions of horrible things that can happen to a person in the course of living a life.

So, might I suggest a replacement line, something not quite as cute or coffee-mug appropriate, but far more accurate:

"Life is like a box of chocolates. It's really good for a while, and then you kind of get sick of it, and before you know it, it's empty, and you throw it away and never think about it again, until eventually the paper itself is recycled into one-ply bathroom tissue for use in prisons and dorminatories."

Bunker Busters

I watched a documentary on The History Channel last night called "Saddam's Secret Tunnels." The title is deceptive - the show is far less about the tunnels than about the massive bunkers connected via tunnels. It's almost as if they purposefully changed the title to make the show seem more boring.

They could have called it "Saddam's Hidden Bunkers" or something, which is a bit sexier than actually including the phrase "tunnel" in the title of your TV show. If I were designing an hour-long documetnary for TV, I wouldn't think to include the word "tunnel" unless I absolutely had to. If the documentary is about the Holland Tunnel, though, you're kind of screwed.

Anyway, the documentary was okay, even though it did contain a lot of the same file footage repeated over and over again. Soldier Opening Heavy Metal Door, you've now officially had your 15 minutes of fame, plus an extra 45, not counting commercial breaks. What took me by surprise is how completely the film bought into the American government's view of the war in Iraq.

The entire film comes from an American mindset - Saddam was a great criminal, we went in to find him and set the Iraqi people free, we did so swiftly and efficiently, now he's in jail where he can't hurt anyone and Iraq lived happily ever after.

I mean, during a discussion of the spider hole in which Saddam was actually found, the film cuts from an image of Saddam being arrested to Iraqi kids dancing in the streets and waving American flags. Now, I mean, sure, there is some file footage in existance of happy Arabs praising the US. But would you say that's a fair representation of the aftermath of this war? Or of the aftermath of even Saddam's capture?

Granted, it's not terribly hard to make Hussein look like a bad guy. He is a bad guy. A spectacularly bad guy. An accept-his-brother-in-law-into-the-family-only-to-turn-on-him-and-have-him-tortured kind of bad guy.

But the documentary was so focused on revelling in his malevolence, elevating him and his nitwit small-time Iraqi goon squad to the SS at the height of the Third Reich.

I'm not saying History Channel is despicable or unAmerican or anything. Just that it's amazing to me how quickly this stuff becomes set in our minds, becomes "history" instead of just "factual information." Will this be the official narrative of this war? Will future textbooks read like this:

9/11 - The Aftermath

In the months that followed the attacks on the World Trade Center, American president George W. Bush made a concerted effort to track down terrorists abroad, using what he and his Vice-President Dick Cheney termed shock and awe tactics. In one instance, American troops liberated the nation of Afghanistan from its cruel, totalitarian regime The Taliban. In another, the military briefly occupied the city of Baghdad, deposing thuggish dictator Saddam Hussein and replacing him with a government of the Iraqi people, under the authority of the Halliburton Corporation and RJ Reynolds.

Discussion Questions

1. Doesn't George W. Bush kind of resemble an ape? Explain.

2. After his arrest in Tikrit, many things were removed from Saddam Hussein's beard. Identify and briefly discuss three of these things.

3. Did you know that members of the Taliban had been in Washington only a few years before the invasion of Afghanistan, to discuss the American War on Drugs? Who gives a shit?

Hostage

Hostage is based on a popular novel by Robert Crais, so it has one of those twisty, complicated, high-concept kind of plots that sounds appealing to guys about to get on a trans-continental flight. See if you can stay with me here...



Bruce Willis plays a hostage negotiator in LA. Something goes wrong, he feels guilty, and he moves with his daughter and wife to Ventura County to become a local police chief.

In the small town where he lives, some hooligans break into a lovely home owned by single dad Kevin Pollack and his two kids, a young son and teenage daughter. When a cop shows up doing a random check, the hooligans freak out and start shooting, taking the family hostage.

Okay, so far, seems like a solid set-up for a movie. Willis' negotiator is shattered, can't focus, can't concentrate, needs to do the job but doubts his own abilities. So far, I was totally with the movie. It's intense, it's well-made (a bit flashy for my tastes, but solidly constructed and it looked nice), Willis is always fun to watch in this kind of role. You know, reasonable entertainment.

But Crais' ever-malleable narrative is just getting going. It turns out, Pollack has something really valuable in his house that some shady underworld figures are trying to get their hands on. They, in turn, kidnap Willis' family and hold them for ransom - if he'll use his authority to get their compact disc out of the house, they'll let his family live.

And as if that weren't enough, the film keeps piling the complications on. The house is outfitted with a Panic Room-style security system, giving the young thugs the upper hand in much of the early negotiating. Then there's the inevitable power struggle among the hostage-takers, Willis' clash with the other authorities trying to wrest control of the investigation and even one of those "take the shot"/"don't take that shot" arguments that, by law, appears in every movie featuring snipers.

Things really get out of control by the overblown action conclusion, which I guess the filmmakers felt they owed Willis' core audience but which really wasn't neccessary in this sort of film. One of the hostage-takers suddenly turns into the elite badass mercenary from hell, assaulting the SWAT team with gasoline bombs, kidnapping girls at will, and seemingly unharmed by conventional weapons.

By the time the entire house has gone ablaze and Willis is plunging through flaming thesholds with several family members attached to his back, I was basically all done with Hostage. It starts off with some amount of B-movie promise - an intriguing set-up, the willingness to explore intense scenarios involving gory violence and the threat of even more gory violence against women and children, the cooperation of Bruce Willis, who rode these sort of roles to stardom.

But it loses its nerve, or at least its belief in its own abilities as a suspense movie. Believability kind of breaks down, the structure sags and gets sloppy, and the movie just starts to fray at the edges. Also, as I said before, the direction is way over doen. Director Florent Siri, along with the well-received French film Nid de Guepes directs the Splinter Cell series of video games, so he's got the timing of the action sequences fairly down pat (and also shots of a guy sneaking around a corner to disarm another guy...all that looks fine). But as you'd expect from a video game guy, the storytelling isn't quite where it should be.