tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11578983.post-77511500788977863782009-01-11T12:13:00.009-05:002009-01-12T07:30:42.293-05:00<img height="400" alt="USW" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3482/3187611485_df9955f3fc_o.jpg" width="292" /><br /><br /><div class="tabletxt" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:-1;"><li><span style="color:red;"><b>They cut down trees for this:</b></span> Grateful for my patronage, an online retailer has been sending free sample subscriptions to magazines I’d otherwise never buy. One is <i>Wired</i>, a techno journal with tweaking and nitpicking among elitists with Too Much Goddamn Money. By the time I reach the contents page, boredom has reared its ugly head. Another freebie is <i>Us Weekly</i>, often making a direct flight from mailbox to bathroom to trash can in less than twelve hours. Obsessed with celebrity dollbabes and children, it has endless photos of rich women jogging, eating and paparazzi-posing when not gagging their little ones with the silver spoon. A lot of these stars I’ve never heard of, but by the time I’m out of the john and back online I’ve forgotten my momentary urge to Google them. Lately there’s been a feud between Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston splashed across their pages, with <i>Us</i> perched in Jennifer’s corner. I guess it’s because Jennifer appears sweet, non-threatening and as bland as Wonder Bread in contrast to AJ’s lascivious whole wheat vamp. Has Jennifer done anything as amazing as AJ’s <i>Gia</i>? Inquiring minds want to know!<br /><br /><li><b><span style="color:red;">Short notice:</b></span> Here are some films I’ve seen recently: Michael Clancy’s <i>Eulogy</i> (2004) is like a mainstream Robert Altman movie, meaning it’s coherent and occasionally funny… <i>Towelhead</i> (2007) is unbelievable, the work of an idiot aiming for De Sica-style pathos without the humanity… The Adam Sandler movie <i>Click</i> (2006) <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290139724479882834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 165px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8a69UJ6odWE/SWpaDRHOZlI/AAAAAAAAAcI/LiRrJyQ3Y0Y/s320/TS2.jpg" border="0" /> was a Christmas gift from someone who found out I like movies; it’s about a suburban schlub fast forwarding through his life, only to croak out the words “family is everything” on his deathbed… From Stephen King, <i>The Mist</i> (2007) works as a <i>Twilight Zone</i>-type of horror-mystery, until the last fifteen minutes sinks it — director Frank Darabont should have his license revoked… Andrew Fleming’s <i>Threesome</i> (1994) came as a surprise, a mature look at adolescent sexuality, sporadically marred by too much forced hilarity and the disquieting oddity of Stephen Baldwin (inset), a man cursed with the face of a chipmunk sucking on lemons…<br /><br /><li><span style="color:red;"><b>In <i>Vanity Fair</i>:</b></span> Bruce Handy offers an excellent article about composer John Barry — <a style="COLOR: red; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2009/02/john-barry200902?currentPage=1" target="_blank">click here</a>.</span></li></div><br /><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11578983-7751150078897786378?l=flickhead.blogspot.com'/></div>Flickheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08501032829800803300noreply@blogger.com8