Hmm. How do I put this without sounding like I’m picking on the gal?
I’m sure you’ve heard that the mainstream media are giving Sarah Palin a hard time. There’s the NAFTA incident, but North America is a big continent and it’s hard to keep track of the whole thing. Also, cut our favorite hockey mom some slack on Africa: continent and country are both c-words, a fact I’m sure she can wrap her head around.
Plus, McCain’s aides probably got this one wrong: I think Palin was talking about Australia, which you can refer to as either a country or continent (and, in the right context, you can call it Earth’s largest island). But Palin remains undaunted, in fact, and I’ve grown concerned for Sarah, her family, and us, America.
I’m beginning to think Palin doesn’t know that the election is over.
The drawing would be of you, dear reader, looking very dignified and responsible. You’d be in a voting booth casting your ballot.
That’s it. Not too funny, really, but I think it’s an important picture.
OK, fine, you’re in a thong, but it’s in no way a comment on the democratic process. You see, the thong’s underneath your clothes. So it’s your little secret.
The clip summarized: In reaction to political cartoons that depict Sarah Palin in a bathing suit, Greta van Susteren and Cindy McCain comment that such a sexist gesture would never be applied to the likes of a male candidate. In other words, they conclude, no one will put John McCain in a swimsuit.
OK, ladies, you asked for it. Here’s our hilarious political cartoon of John McCain in a swimsuit!
Ever wish you could travel back in time to see how our presidential and vice-presidential candidates were represented online—before they became household names? Well, thanks to Google, your wish has come true.
In celebration of its tenth year, the quintessential search engine now allows users to surf the Web like it’s January 2001. Plug in the individual names and you get the results circa 01/01. If this were golf, guess who’d be the big winner in terms of hits? Give up? It’s Sarah Palin.
Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11 failed in ousting the Bush administration from the White House in 2004. Slacker Uprising, the new film by Moore documenting the 2004 tour of the same name, gives him one more chance to proclaim, “Mission accomplished,” and be correct this time. (On a personal note, I don’t see how this film could fail in getting rid of Bush.)
If there’s anything the TV industry trusts, it’s precedent, which has brought us a parade of Judge Wapner impersonators, provided sixty-seven variations on CSI and Law and Order, and given Chevy Chase the opportunity to have a late-night talkshow. In other words, precedent is responsible for some of the great travesties in televisual history. Following suit, the new 90210 is monopolizing on the uberhip ’90s original Beverly Hills 90210 and it’s all about being up-to-date.*
Airing on the illustrious FOX network, Do Not Disturb, at first blush, seems to get its name from the fact that it’s set in a hotel. But I discovered, too late, that it had been named by my TV Guide, warning me not to mess with this show because I wasn’t going to like what I saw.
With a chic New York City hotel as its backdrop, this half-hour sitcom centers a lot of its action in the bowels of a hotel, expelling awful things from its back-office mise-en-scène.
Ethan and Joel Coen (not to be confused with Etan Cohen, co-writer of the great Tropic Thunder, or Joe Colen, my adult-film pseudonym) put the audience in a privileged position with Burn After Reading. In fact, we feel that we are in cahoots with the Coen brothers.
This dark comedy oozes tragic irony, which the Sarcasm Society, if they can be believed, defines as the “form of irony [in which] the words and actions of the characters, unbeknownst to them, betray the real situation, which the spectators fully realize.” We know more than the characters and sit uncomfortably at times, and elatedly at others, as bits of information are misunderstood or imperceptibly slip by the characters in an intolerably cruel way.
The results of the 2004 presidential election gave us, among other things, a potentially reverse-engineered acronym.
PEST, or post-election selection trauma, refers to an overwhelming dissatisfaction with and denial of election results that causes some to seek therapy. In 2004, the vitriol with which some regarded the re-election of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney had become unmanageably consuming. That’s the rumor, at least. An Internet search for the condition yields conflicting results. Among the legitimate-looking news reports of therapists seeing patients are sources that point to PEST’s dubious origins.
I am so horribly offended by I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, and I hope that whatever defamation league that fights for a comedy’s right to be comedic comes out to protest this juggernaut of hackneyed material and predictability.
Adam Sandler and Kevin James, the ostensible stars of this film, deliver, perhaps, their most inspired performances, which is to say lackluster. They play lifelong pals who feign to be a homosexual couple in order to reap the legal benefits of domestic partnership for the children of the widowed Larry, played by James (don’t think I didn’t consider making a King of Queens joke, Mr. James).
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Hmm. How do I put this without sounding like I’m picking on the gal?
