Friday, April 22, 2005

tell me something good

Some times I imagine I could sustain myself on negative energy alone. That's why A.O Scott currently has me at hello, as he is on a spectacular roll with dissing films. May I present to you two choice gems:

On House of D
"The reasons to avoid "House of D," David Duchovny's earnest, unwatchable coming-of-age drama, can best be summarized in a simple declarative sentence. Robin Williams plays a retarded janitor."

On The Interpreter
"Sydney Pollack's new film is described as a political thriller, but it is as apolitical as it is unthrilling."

Yes, despite hours of mood music and melancholy poems, my evil streak remains unharmed.

Also, a note on iTunes celebrity playlists: if you put one of your own songs on your playlist, you're a d****-b** of massive proportions. If you plug your own song even further by recounting a famous artists' reaction to your sorry a** song, there is just no hope for you in this world (Russell Crowe, I'm looking at you).

I think I'm going to design a t-shirt that will read "I watched The OC, and all I got was five minutes of Death Cab". Seriously... I can't believe I sat through all that nonsense for such a short glimpse of Ben Gibbard. Gah.

Since I'm on rant mode today, let me also say that I hate Stair Master. With a fiery passion. But you know what I hate more? Working out on Stair Master while Extreme Makeover is on every television screen at the gym. WTF?!? When something like that happens, my enraged mind starts mapping out all these conspiracy theories on the master plan. And let me just say that Extreme Makeover is the most clear evidence I've seen to date that the universe is eroding at an alarming rate. Apocalypse now. Seriously. All I want to do is not fall apart when I'm in Peru. Do I have to suffer through watching scary transformations to that end? For a second (maybe it was due to the dizziness), I really weighed out the cost-benefit ratio of buying a Stair Master. Then I came to my senses and went home.

But then I lost my mind again and watched ER. I'm an idiot! Sadly, so are the makers of ER. If there's one thing that really bothers me about NBC (but alas, there is much more than one thing), it's their love of the whole ripped from the headlines vibe. I'm SICK of it. I read the headlines, mofos, and a lot of times, I read the article following the headlines. I don't need you to dramatize it for me! Yesterday's ER was like reading the science section of the NY Times, except all the Times writers had been replaced by morons. Also, there's this idiot on the show now who bears a vague resemblance to Doogie Houser, and should be slapped silly. While we're talking about Doogie, I have to admit that I fantasize he grew up and became curmudgeonly House, MD.

OKAY... enough with the rage. Here's a small bag of happy: an awesome article on the friendship between Chuck Close (I lurve him) and Philip Glass, and how that translated into a dialogue of tributes between music and art. Also, I tempered the rage last night with some retail therapy, and now... drumroll please... I have a new cell phone! Details at 11.

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