Monday, March 31, 2008

Welcome To The Terrordome

Greetings, new friends! Thanks for all the e-mails. I'll get back to everyone eventually. Or not. I can't predict the future. Or can I?

Note: No, I can't.

Entertainment Weekly, Jan. 18, 2008


Your sidebar claims political movies have had a hard time at the box office recently. What a silly observation. As if such fare is catnip to theatergoers!
Joe Andros

Capitola, Calif.


Dear Joe,
When you wake up in the morning, do you slap your forehead and think, "Oh no! I'm a stupid mongoloid!", or does your brain just play a continuous loop of a chimp banging cymbals while you gently wet yourself? Your catnip line makes absolutely zero motherfucking sense for any number of reasons, chief among them the fact that catnip has no effect on theatergoers (or any other humans) one way or the other. Second among them would be that even if catnip did have the same effect on people it has on cats, that effect would be to actually make them happy, which kind of negates the whole point of your letter (unless you were trying to be sarcastic - which, I have to tell you, is an exercise in pointlessness when you're writing for EW readers). Or else you're pointing out that political movies aren't catnip to viewers, and thus it was a silly observation on EW's part because it seemed self-evident, in which case you felt the need to expend energy and time pointing out how futile their observation was with an equally-futile-by-definition observation, which seems like utter insanity, if you ask me. The fact is, it's unclear what the hell you're trying to say, so I'm going with my first interpretation. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, though - you probably meant to use the word "anathema" and confused it with "catnip". It's a common enough mistake. I myself frequently say "Suck my dick, bitch!" when what I mean is "Thank you very much". That particular slip of the tongue has led to many an awkward conversation, let me tell you! Although I imagine going to the pet store and asking what aisle the anathema's on can be fairly embarrassing as well. See, we've found a common bond! And isn't that what this whole process is really about? So please, rather than take up any more of your obviously precious time, allow me to say "Suck my dick, bitch!" for your letter.

Papa was a rodeo,
John

People, Feb. 25, 2008

Miley (Cyrus), keep the hair, tone down the makeup. You're only 15 once!
Sue Dozier

Louisville, Colo.


Miley Cyrus chats with long-time fan The Planet Jupiter

Sue,
Guess that depends on your definition of "once". As I recall, you're 15 for an entire year (four years if you were born on Feb. 29th!). And I think even you'll agree with me that a year is an awful long time to go without painting your face like The Joker's personal whore, especially for a teenager. Everybody knows that young women have self-image issues, and if there's one thing our culture has taught us it's that girls are naturally unattractive and should slather on as many cosmetics as necessary to hide this horrible truth. Haven't you ever hung around with a group of guys? All we do is sit around and talk about how so-and-so applied an insufficient amount of rouge or what's-her-name picked the totally wrong shade of mascara to go with her eyes. It's a harsh reality, and maybe when evolution stops selecting for butt-ugly females things will change. But until then, how dare you try to shame poor Miley for doing the very thing society demands of her. You know what happens when you attempt to live outside society, Sue? You end up starving to death in an abandoned bus in the middle of Godforsaken Alaska, that's what. Why do you want the poor girl to starve to death in some fucking hippie bus, Sue? What did she ever do to you? Except make you feel incompetent for accomplishing more before she hit puberty than you have in your entire life, I mean.

While we're on the subject, I don't know why you thought it was necessary to tell her to keep the hair. What did you think she was going to do, shave it all off in some drunken bid for attention/cry for help? I'd like to see the day one of our young pop stars resorted to that. Surely such an act would signal the imminent doom of everyone now living. Please stop imagining such preposterous scenarios. That's what we pay J.K. Rowling and the White House Press Secretary for. Now, if you'll excuse me, there are nachos to be eaten.

The roar of the masses could be farts,
John

Friday, March 28, 2008

You Put The Lime In The Coconut And Then Blow Your Stupid Brains Out

Well, I've finished my first week of posting daily, and I only considered taking up heroin twice. Since my stint in the Army had me considering shooting heroin hourly, and I managed to last 4 years in that "profession", I'd have to call this little blog experiment an unqualified success. With one qualifier: it hasn't made me any richer. And after a full week, don't you think it should have?

Before we move on to the letters, some shout-outs (you can skip the next 2 paragraphs if you're just here waiting for the bile to spill): Thanks to Violent Acres for her post about my blog, which increased traffic to this site by about 2,000%. Solely based on this fact, I approve of everything she does in this life, and recommend you all go check her blog out (even though 99% of you came here from there anyway). I only hope she doesn't turn out to be some pedophile or something which will cause me to regret my endorsement.

Secondly, I went to see my fave rave Bob Mould at the Great American Music Hall on Wednesday, and I was very pleased with the show. I was a little apprehensive going in, because let's face it, neither of us is getting any younger, and it can be a bit pathetic when an artist and their audience are approaching middle age and their concerts end up being nostalgic wank-fests/cash-ins, but the man rocked pretty damned hard and still seemed relevant, even when peddling the Husker Du and Sugar stuff (I myself was very happy to hear "Divide And Conquer" and "New Day Rising"). My only complaint would be that the drummer seemed a bit sloppy - well, that, and it was too friggin' loud, ya damn punks! This ain't the Mabuhay Gardens in 1981! Some of us old bastards need our hearing so that we may note the faintest creak in our residences at 4:00am and bolt upright in bed, paranoid that somebody's trying to break in. Trust me, that's the only excitement left to you after you turn 35. My point is: go see him if he happens to swing by your hamlet. Anyway, sorry for the love-fest, but occasionally it's pleasant to write about subjects that don't make me want to projectile vomit all over my monitor.

Finally, to answer the question e-mailed to me by reader Tony: No, I'm pretty sure something like that isn't possible (and if you think I'm going to post the disgusting fucking picture you attached in your e-mail here, you had some crack rocks mixed in with your Cocoa Puffs this morning). Even if it is possible, I don't want to know. Images like that are what the phrase "ignorance is bliss" was coined for, ass-wipe (I don't really think you're an ass-wipe; I just hate ending sentences with prepositions). Also, as those of us who've actually seen vaginas up close can attest, that shit's obviously Photoshopped. By the way, thanks for including the 47,000,000 forwarded addresses in your e-mail. I'm sure when I start my own Viagra spam campaign your friends will be thrilled that you didn't know where the "backspace" button was located on your keyboard. Thanks for writing, and may the times you see only one set of footprints be the times that God carried you.


People, March 10, 2008

Why can't everyone just leave Britney alone and let her try to get her life back on track? This poor girl has been misused by the very people who should have been protecting her. I personally feel very sorry for her. Let's not forget that she is a young mother who is suffering from a mental illness. I hope she starts surrounding herself with people who genuinely care about her.
Eileen Hutchinson
West Linn, Ore.

In hindsight, this is when Britney was actually wholesome

Yeah, Eileen, I can't imagine why "everyone" won't leave poor Britney alone. Surely not because cover stories on her trainwreck of a life equal newsstand sales, or because even readers who claim to find the whole sordid saga unappetizing nevertheless feel strongly enough to write letters to shitty magazines that cannily attempt to deny their own complicity in the whole process. What kind of topsy-turvy Bizarro World have we become trapped in when celebrities self-destructing become fodder for water cooler conversation? Next thing you know, political sex scandals will become the lead stories on the nightly news! Oh, for the good old days when the famous were all upstanding Christians and the tabloids were filled with recipes for pecan pie.

Anyway, I don't really see how she was "misused" - as far as I can tell, she was used, in perfect accordance with the way most people are used. If she had been misused, she'd probably be the model of mental health and integrity right now. Because, see, in this case being used is a bad thing, so to be misused would be - oh, fuck it; something tells me you're not going to get the joke here no matter how remedial I make the explanation.

I don't think anybody's forgotten she's a young mother suffering from mental illness - not when it's plastered all over every form of media on a weekly basis - but maybe you're forgetting that she's an incredibly wealthy mother suffering from etc. etc. Perhaps you should save your pity for the mentally ill mothers who are living on the streets with their fucked-up, doomed kids in every city in the world. On second thought: don't bother. There's nothing sexy about some boil-ridden hag with a load in her drawers smelling up the entire subway system and nattering on about the chip the government's implanted in her brain. We're here to help Britney get her life back on track. Gosh, how will she ever go about picking up the pieces? If only she had access to the finest mental health professionals and detox clinics in the galaxy, as well as some sort of round-the-clock live-in daycare workers for the kids! Ah, cruel fate! How could a loving God allow such injustice? Oh, well - guess there's nothing she can do at this point but wait to die like a common mule.

Please send me evenings and weekends,
John

People, Feb, 25, 2008

Everyone has the right to decide which religion they wish to belong to, including Tom Cruise. If he does not want to be criticized for his belief he should stop professing that his chosen religion is the only way to live your life. The public wouldn't be so quick to judge Mr. Cruise if he did not come across as a narrow-minded know-it-all. If Scientology really is a wonderful religion, people will realize it; he does not have to force it down their throats. It's time for Tom to relax.
Jessica Buzinski

Saskatoon, Sask.


Tom Cruise: A heterosexual who loves kissing women


Jessica,
How generous of you to include Tom Cruise among the people who have the right to decide which religion they choose to belong to. Does he also have your permission to make a poopy in the potty all by his widdle self? Or should those kinds of decisions be left up to our benevolent government?

You're correct about the proselytizing, though. I don't see why every single other religion on Earth can seem to get by without its adherents trying to shove their beliefs down our throats, but not $cientology. I mean, good holy fuck, everybody knows religion doesn't need a marketing department to spread the message - people will just naturally come to it of their own volition if it's "really wonderful". This principle holds true across all disciplines, which is why Ikiru is the number one box office hit of all time and Singles Going Steady has been in the Top 200 of the Billboard pop charts for the past 30 years. Stupid Scientologists - when will you learn to be more like those symbols of tolerance and humility Pat Robertson and Kirk Cameron? Did Battlefield Earth teach you nothing? You're never going to attain the level of Operating Thetan if you can't control your impulse to preach.

But back to you, Jessica: Scoff at the cult of Cruise and Travolta all you want, but if you're looking for a worldview that offers tangible results, Scientology would seem to have an inordinate amount of rich and famous followers. Heck, if I was the kind of confused rube who needed a spiritual crutch I'd be more willing to believe Tom's religion was the One True Way than that of 2 pasty-faced bicycling virgins in cheap white Sears business casual shirts just based on the success of its most visible members (who have the Mormons got - Mitt Romney? And if I was a Jehovah's Witness I'd want to seriously downplay the fact that Michael Jackson and Prince were part of the flock). Besides which, since you're doling out Constitutional rights to the guy, surely you want him to have freedom of speech as well as freedom of religion, right? I mean, if you start abridging Americans' freedom to express themselves, the next thing you know nobody's allowed to write dick-brained missives to pop culture rags, and we're both totally fucked. And not in the good way (anally), either.

Don't you realize this is Respectable Street?,
John

Thursday, March 27, 2008

And Now, A Word From Our Idiots

People, March 10, 2008

As a child I experienced the same condition as Jacob Hanna. I didn't talk to relatives, classmates or teachers, and everyone assumed I was just shy. Like Jacob, I made good grades but I couldn't overcome my fear of speaking to people. My condition was ignored by adults who thought I would "grow out of it". Now, as an adult myself, I have anxiety when it comes to speaking in front of others - especially people who I am not comfortable with. It makes everyday tasks seem so difficult. For Jacob's sake, I hope they can find a way to make this little boy feel confident enough in himself that he can become an outgoing individual. Hang in there, Jacob.

Michelle Booe

Joplin, Mo.


Michelle,
Not to be a total dick, but I'm not sure you're exactly a ringing endorsement for Jacob eventually feeling confident with himself. I mean, if you're going to try to encourage youngsters, the first rule is to not tell them how fucked up your life is due to the condition you share. This is one reason they don't bring in fresh corpses to cheer up cancer wards.

Be that as it may, I have my own story about social anxiety to share: I once had a friend named Ben, who experienced discomfort bordering on panic when faced with any situation that involved people he didn't know fairly intimately or lots of loud conversation. His condition was made all the worse because of his chosen profession: he was a clown at children's parties. I can't even tell you how many deposits he had to refund when parents found him curled up in their kitchen cupboards chanting "Mommy and I are one" on an endless loop. Anyway, eventually his therapist suggested he isolate himself completely from the rest of humanity for a period of time, the thinking being that once he was cut off from human contact he'd begin to understand how vital interaction with others was. So Ben bought a sailboat and loaded up on supplies and headed out to the middle of the Pacific ocean. He stayed in the same spot for three weeks, until his vessel was attacked by an Orca and he drowned, sinking to the bottom of the briny deep like a burlap sack loaded with delicious ham. You know, now that I read this over, I guess my story's not much more inspirational than yours. Even so, I think we can agree on one thing: no matter what the hell you do, you're going to die.

Still, I support you in telling Jacob to "hang in there". In fact, I'm even going to include a graphic representation of the phrase in the hopes of calming the lad:


There! Doesn't the world seem a much more stable place now? Go forth, Jacob, and fret no longer!

This is Joe Public speaking - I'm controlled in the body, controlled in the mind!,
John

Kudos to Fergie for speaking out about teen sex. It was a very informative story. And she said it accurately when she stated that she wasn't a perfect role model but a realistic one. A lot of young people look up to her. I think Fergie is a class act.
Billie Walker

Cosby, Tenn.


Consumer report: When your hooker's foot is larger than
her head, you've just paid for a tranny.

Billie,
Yeah, what a class act. I personally was shocked that they didn't declare her Queen of England after she sang the elegant yet understated hymn "My Humps". And now you tell me she's speaking out about teen sex? Somebody call the Pope hotline and nominate this humanitarian for sainthood!

I didn't read the piece in question, but I've also got an informative story about teen sex: I once had a friend named Ben, and he died a virgin due to his inability to interact with others. If he'd only had sex as a teenager, I wouldn't be here describing him to all the world as someone who died a virgin, causing complete strangers to snigger at the poor doomed bastard. Do you see my point? Teens should start having sex with as many partners as soon as possible, because you never know when your boat is going to be rammed by a killer whale. I believe that is also the message of The New Testament, or at least the subtext. So come on (no pun intended), teens of America! I know you all buy into that abstinence-only line they teach you in Intelligent Design class, but I for one think it's high time the youth of this nation started becoming sexually active. It's an idea whose time has come, like starting a war with Iran or making health care prohibitively expensive for the lower class. If we can all pull together (pun intended this time) on these issues, the terrorists won't have won. USA! USA! These colors don't run, motherfuckers!

I'll salute the new age and I hope nobody escapes,
John

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Meaty Beaty Big & Bouncy

People, Feb. 18, 2008

While I am happy that Matthew McConaughey has found love and is about to become a father, I wonder why he doesn't marry Camila? From what I read, he seems reluctant to take the step towards marriage and commitment. If that is the case, how is he going to handle being a father? Parenthood, like marriage, is a lifelong commitment. I wish the child lots of luck.
Stephanie Freeman

Santa Rosa,
Calif.

So, Matthew and his girlfriend are expecting a love child. Mr. McConaughey is not fooling anyone. He is a man who is unable to make a legal commitment to his child or the child's mother. Unfortunately, he is only one of many. It is a shame that kids look up to these so-called stars as role models.
Pat Britton

Battle Creek, Mich.


How to tell if Matt's high? He's wearing a shirt!

Dear biddies,
Since you're both looking at the issue through the same stupid-colored glasses, I'm going to lump your letters together like so much tepid mashed potatoes and respond as if you're one person. Which, given the hive-mind mentality of People readers, seems a perfectly reasonable strategy. I do hope this doesn't offend you. And by that, I mean "I don't give a fat fuck if it offends you or not". But if you've been reading this at all, you probably already decoded that yourself(ves).

Anyway, why should he marry Camila? He already did her the honor of fucking her silly (literally - how else to explain her decision to keep his child?); however she chooses to react to the consequences of his selfless act is all on her. As I grow increasingly weary of reminding you all, this is the 21st century- she's not going to be burned at the stake for having a child out of wedlock, and if the kid's going to grow up in L.A., I guarantee you half the children in its kindergarten will be in exactly the same boat. Anyway, why do you make the mistake of equating marriage with commitment? I've been in a relationship for 9 years without getting married - are you telling me couples who got divorced after a year were actually more committed than I am? Pardon my French, but if that's what you think, you're one dumb-fuck heap of stool. Guess what, heap of stool? Marriage is nothing more than a gesture, some "official" pronouncement printed on cheap paper that's as meaningless as its epilogue, the restraining order: if you're determined to violate it, the empty words typed out by some bureaucrat aren't going to be enough to stop you.

Besides, haven't you seen Matthew McConaughey? He's dreamy! All glistening and incoherent, just like an astronaut! Heck, I'd have his baby if I could. Sadly, my womb is as barren as a cookie jar at fat camp.

Anyhoo, I don't know why you feel the need to wish the kid luck - there's obviously nothing to worry about genetically (pot doesn't fuck up your chromosomes, in case you missed the results of that particular Reefer Madness scare in your Leave it To Beaver bubble world), and the kid's trust fund is probably already several times your lifetime earning potential. And no doubt the tyke will be loved - have you ever been to Hollywood? Damn near everyone there tells you they love you at the slightest opportunity. It's the most beautiful place on Earth (aside from Arby's when you're really hungry).

As for why kids look up to so-called stars like McConaughey as role models - well, they don't. Have you ever in your life heard a child say they want to grow up to be just Like the creepy dude from Dazed and Confused? Haaaail no you haven't, fool. They want to grow up to be like 50 Cent, which is as it should be.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

I Love My Dead Gay Son!

Look here, folks: I said I was going to update this every day. I did not say I was going to update this every day at 5:00 am on the dot so people on the East Coast could read it over their morning lattes. It seems some of you are under the impression that I'm your trained monkey, eager to amuse you at your collective whim. Well, I've got news for you: slavery ended in this country over 40 years ago, racists! As long as I post an entry at some point within the 24.067 hours that constitutes "Tuesday", I have kept my promise. Open a book about our treaties with the Native Americans if you need more examples of what constitutes fair and legal agreements among different parties. In fact, just because some people couldn't refrain from pestering me, I'm only going to post one letter today. Hopefully this will teach us all an important lesson about respecting others, as well as the unforeseen consequences of venereal disease. Also, it will give me a free day to post the entry about Matthew McConaughey I was going to include here, so that I may lie around leisurely in a kiddie pool filled to the motherfucking brim with equal parts Alpo and whipped cream, as is my wont.

Entertainment Weekly, Feb. 15, 2008


Conan O'Brien's strike diary provided much-needed levity. My own supply of DVR'd shows was dwindling, so I needed something to take my mind off the pain.
Kimberly Ciesiolka

South Bend, Ind.


Every child's view of their drunken uncle at Thanksgiving

Kimberly,
I think we all felt the pain you describe. After all, what is more painful than not having new episodes of Scrubs and According To Jim to watch every week? Besides actually having new episodes of those shows to watch, I mean.

I myself didn't read Conan's strike diary - I don't read anything other than Danielle Steel and Big Booty Bitches mag, as together they tell me everything worth knowing about life in the modern world - but I managed my own pain with liberal doses of Oxycontin (though, in the interest of full disclosure, that's how I manage when I'm not in pain, as well). How you were able to cope without a team of humanitarian relief workers at your side is beyond me - you must be one courageous sack of humanity to have survived such an ordeal. Maybe you should write out your heroic story and send it to the Lifetime network - I bet they'd make a Lifetime Original Movie out of it! Maybe even starring Valerie Bertinelli, now that she's back in the spotlight for having learned to not binge-eat. I'm not even being sarcastic, either. I'm pretty sure somebody over there would be willing to greenlight this.

Anyway, I'm sure there are many people who'd tell you, in the supercilious tone middlebrow white people love to adopt, that instead of suffering due to the writers' strike, you could have gone out and experienced life rather than watching actors simulate experiencing life: maybe sign up for a class at the local community college or go to a cafe to meet new people, or make the time to appreciate the everyday miracles we take for granted: the sunset that would never contain quite the same hues as any other, or the serene majesty of a local lake, or whatever the higgedy-hell it is that such people are always popping boners over. But we both realize they're really just obnoxious pricks, and fucking liars to boot - when people claim they "don't watch TV" it's code for "I watch about 47 hours a week more than you", and the ones who claim to not even own a TV simply watch everything on their computers (which not only makes them cheap, but thoughtless - they apparently don't care that any guests they might have over are going to be forced to sit around staring at their goddamn walls all night, like common refugees). I only hope you didn't completely run out of DVR'd shows before the strike ended, because otherwise I don't even want to imagine the agony you must have endured. In fact, the mere thought of it has me reaching for the Oxycontin right now. Sweet, beautiful Oxycontin. You are my lover, and the only one that truly understands me. Ahhhhhh, there's the stuff. Life has once again been elevated to the level of "tolerable" thanks to the tireless work of this nation's many selfless chemists. Now if only that horrible fanged polka-dot cow fetus that lives in my toilet and incessantly taunts me about my womanly calves would disappear, I'd be a pig in shit.

Love is the drug,
John

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Life! It's A Shame

All right. It's been a while, but I'm going to start doing this (week)daily from now on. To accomplish such a superhuman feat, I decided to answer just a few questions each day rather than an entire issue's worth at once. Please, let me know if you approve of the new format. The best way to do this would be to never contact me, ever.

People, March 31, 2008

Move over, Shiloh. Nicole (Richie) and Joel just had one beautiful baby girl. As the mother of a 3-year-old beauty, I know the pleasures that lie ahead for them. I wish the new parents all the best.
Kerri Miller

Webster, Mass.


Nicole Ritchie sunbathes after giving birth

Yeah, move over, Shiloh! Ain't nobody give a damn about your stankin' ass no mo'. This business is all about youth, kid, and once you hit 3 months you might as well move into a fleabag motel and start shooting junk. Also, if I may be blunt, you've become a bit of a fattie, and that shit isn't gonna fly in this town, sister - not on my watch. And if there's one thing you can say with near certainty about Nicole's spawn, it's that she probably isn't going to have a problem with childhood obesity. I must therefore implore you, for the sake of your own dignity, to stop trying to get the paparazzi to cover your every belch and gurgle, and let the next generation have their moment in the sun. It's the right thing to do, and a tasty way to do it. Don't be a little bitch.

As for you, Kerri: I'm not exactly calling you a punk-ass liar when you tell us how attractive your tot is, but consider this: There's no shortage of hideously ugly babies out there - somebody has to grow up to become all these ugly adults, no? - yet I bet all of their mothers think their own kids are "beauties" as well, much the way nobody thinks they, personally, lack a sense of humor. So maybe - just maybe - you should shut the fuck up before you look more a fool than you already do.

I don't know why I love you,
John

Entertainment Weekly, March 21, 2008

Calling The L Word "soft-core porn" is unfair (Television). Many shows with heterosexual romances use graphic material to win viewers but don't get labeled as such. Lesbian relationships aren't just male-fantasy fodder.
Jamie Lewis

Chicago


Jamie,
Of course they aren't. They're also fodder for the fantasies of other lesbians. See, this is why lesbians get a rap as man-haters: why so defensive and self-righteous all the time? Why can you not allow red-blooded men to masturbate to art you view as significant social commentary on your particular experience? You get to feel validated, they get to feel the sweet temporary release from dread that orgasm affords, and believe it or not, there's nothing worth constructing a political agenda out of in the entire exchange. So why don't we join together, based on our common humanity and mutual love of breasts, and admit that one man's soft-core porn is another man's (no offense) richly observed subculture study.
Anyway, if it wasn't for the soft-core porn element, do you honestly think that show would still be on the air? Despite what you may believe, this country, for the most part, does not in the least resemble the Bryn Mawr Women's Studies program (though they do wear a lot of flannel and mullets in the South and Midwest), and a show about the vicissitudes in the life of the Average Lipstick Lesbian without the T&A would draw about as big a share of viewers as the pork futures market report or whatever boring crap they show on basic cable at 3:30 am on Sunday morning. So you should be thankful for the lecherous men you seek to condemn - without them, you'd have to wait for reruns of Ellen to glimpse a mirror into your world. Or, alternatively, you could get on with your own lesbian life in the real world and not look to Hollywood to serve it back to you in melodramatically amplified form. It's a little suspicious to accuse others of voyeurism when you're all watching the same thing, you know.
Now take off your bra!

I'm going out looking for a cynical girl,
John

People, March 24, 2008

For you to describe Mary-Kate and Ashley as "bizarrely garbed fashionistas" is a hoot.What it shows is that $300 million may buy bodyguards, cigarettes and a lot of booze, but it certainly does not buy style or fashion sense.
Chris Sullivan

St. Louis, Mo.


Howler Monkeys: So Like Us

Sully,
Actually, the term "bizarrely garbed fashionistas" is not so much a "hoot" as it is a "glaring contradiction". Nevertheless, this is no time for a semantics debate, because you bring up a Serious Issue: The fact that money doesn't buy style or fashion sense (though I admit I'm having trouble seeing the difference between the two). Now, it would have been hackneyed if you'd claimed money doesn't buy happiness, because that crusty old truism has been hauled out every thirty seconds for the last billion years to explain some captain of industry's suicide or Orson Wells' nostalgia for his sled or blah blah blah. But now you're telling us money can't even buy you the shallow and superficial, which flies in the face of all conventional wisdom. Let's be clear: if money can't buy you happiness or fashion sense, what the hell good is it? I mean, products I can steal, and hookers I can just get really drunk and then duck out the fire escape without paying, but if money isn't going to enhance my sense of self-worth in any manner, maybe I should just move to the friggin' Sudan, where at least life will be unpredictable. On the other hand, you do make the case that money buys cigarettes and a lot of booze, so perhaps it's best to just stay where I am.

Making fun of bums - bad karma thing to do,
John

Sunday, March 2, 2008

What A Piece Of Work Is Man

All right, let's catch up.

According to a friend of mine, someone I don't even know named Brandi (hereafter referred to as "Moesha") doesn't think I've been updating enough. Did Moesha attempt to spur me on by sending money to my PayPal account or naked pictures to my inbox? No. No she did not. Nevertheless, I decided to honor her wish, because it's always good to make new friends - that way, you have a larger pool of people you can potentially exploit should the situation ever require it.

Why have I not been posting as often in the first place, you (the royal "you") ask? I'll be brutally honest with you (actually, I will lie my ass off to make myself look good, as is the way of my people): going through the 47 million letters these fools have written is not my idea of a righteous way to spend my free time, so rather than trying to find correspondence to mock in a half-inch thick stack of human stupidity, I'm going to jump ahead to the letters in the current issues. Maybe eventually I'll get around to finishing the older letters. Most likely I won't. What the hell is it to you? I don't exactly see anybody whipping out their checkbooks to reward me for my fine and noble project.

Also, I'll divide the entries between EW and People - that way I won't get so depressed slogging through the hideousness all at once, and I'll update more often. So kwitcherbitchin. I am only one man. One sexy, irresistible man.

Entertainment Weekly, Feb. 29, 2008

Unlike many female leads, Juno is not a superhero or a loser - she falls somewhere in between.
Kenneth L. Zimmerman

Huntington Beach, Calif.


Kenneth,
You, also, seem to fall somewhere between a superhero and a loser. Why don't we just call you a "super-loser" until some Poindexter comes up with a more satisfactory term, eh? Works for me.
Now where's that salad I ordered, motherfucker?

Every little thing the reflex does leaves you answered with a question mark,
John

Thanks for putting Ellen Page on the cover ("Juno Nation"). I'm nicknamed Juno at school for wearing flannels and being sarcastic. Anyone who says teens don't talk like Juno should spend a day with me.
Catherine Cortale

Sea Cliff, N.Y.


Catherine,
I don't think there's any need to make threats. It is just a movie, after all. Why don't we all calm down, before one of us does something they'll regret?
Anyway, I do believe teens talk like Juno, which is why I don't hang out with them. They're fucking annoying, to be honest. Especially with all that "John, maybe we should use a condom" whining. Don't try to put a bridle on me, Chelsea! I cannot be tamed!

p.s. Are you sure your nickname isn't "Juno" because you're a big ol' slut? That's another thing about teenagers: they're lying sacks of shit.

Ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn't've?),
John

I've been in awe of Ellen Page since "Hard Candy" and saw "Juno" before it became a sensation. I was worried it would disappear quickly, so imagine my joy when mainstream audiences embraced it.
Angela Rawling

Salt Lake City


Angela,
I'm imagining your joy as kind of manic and smothering, with a faint hint of clingy desperation around the edges. Am I right? Do be sure and let me know.

How many times must the cannonballs fly before they are forever banned?,
John

Ellen Page: Bitch, do you ever change your shirt?

As a young woman who likes quirky indies, I'm the target audience for "Juno". But I can't say I liked it. "Juno" tried too hard to be cool, which came off as annoying. I prefer the "weirdos" in "Ghost World".
Meredith Munoz

Sterling, Va.


Merde,
I'd be careful about going around describing myself as a "young woman who likes quirky indies" if I was you. That's a phrase that can lend itself to various interpretations, none of them favorable, especially to drunk douchebags in bars. Trust me - I've got the stains on my jeans to prove it. The beautiful, soul-gratifying stains.

I know what you mean about the movie trying to be too cool, though. It should try to be bland and uninspiring like most movies. Who does it think it is, Jack Nicholson? Now there's somebody who's cool without even having to try, and is not in any way a pathetic geriatric caricature depressingly clinging to his withered memories of a "rebellious" youth. If Juno had been more like Jack, it would have made me a happy boy, because then it would have been so predictable I'd never have bothered plunking down shekels to see it. Ah, Jack. Is there any problem you can't illuminate?

But I digress,
John

Did I seriously just read a review of the new Star Trek trailer (Movies)? Does this country suffer from such an acute case of ADD that we can't even wait for a movie to come out before we start to judge it?
David Drake

Henderson, Nev.


David,
Is that a rhetorical question? Or did you just plop into our modern world from the era of the Taft administration via a wormhole? Because if you did, a word of advice: when you tell people you're feeling "gay", it doesn't mean what you think it means anymore. "Donkey show" still refers to the same act, though, so some things have remained constant. At least you're not totally awash in a sea of chaos.

There's gonna be a Borstal breakout,
John

Thanks for telling us why Amy Heckerling's "I Could Never Be Your Woman" never made it to theaters ("Would You Dump This Woman?"). I'm bummed the movie's going straight to DVD, but I hope she keeps doing her thing.
Mark J. Parker

New York City


Mark,
Well, apparently, her "thing" now is making movies that go straight to DVD, so your entire last sentence would appear to be a contradiction. Even so, I won't hold it against you. Any grown man upset by Amy Heckerling's career trajectory already has enough going against him in this world.
I didn't read the piece in question, but perhaps you can enlighten me: did EW also tell us why some of her previous movies - for example, Look Who's Talking Too and A Night at the Roxbury - weren't released straight to DVD? Because that really seems like the bigger mystery, if you want my opinion (and you do, or why else would you have written your letter?). I breathlessly await your reply.

Balloon Man blew up in my hands,
John

How ironic Gordon Pinset of Away From Her was snubbed by your Snubbed-by-Oscar Must list. His performance was most deserving of accolades.
Grace Deacon

Levittown, Pa.

Grace,
I think I speak for everyone when I ask you: What in the name of sweet holy fuck are you talking about? Gordon Pinset? Wasn't that the guy who played Balki on Perfect Strangers? Look, do you see me going around lamenting the fact that Throbbing Gristle never won a Grammy? Of course you don't, because I do not live in Elvish Unicorn Faerieland, and I understand that nobody with even the most tenuous grip on reality gives half a wet fart about the subject. You'd do well to follow my example, and never voice your thoughts in public again. Starting...now!

You said that irony was the shackles of youth,
John

Your Taylor Swift story ("American Girl") says MySpace and the singer drew teens to country. But Rascal Flatts' and Kenny Chesney's fan base proves younger ears were already listening.
Kenny Mansfield
Evansville, Ind.

Kenny,
Of course younger ears were listening - what else would they be doing? Whistling? Baking quiche? Writing sonnets in iambic pentameter? Maybe this info bypassed you somehow, but ears are specifically designed for listening. Do I need to explain to you how vision works as well? All right: first, light (which travels, strangely enough, at the speed of sound) (1.2 meters per hour) enters your cornea (what Native Americans call "maize-ea") and then bounces around inside your head until it is processed by the hot rods and ice cream cones located at the back of your eyes and converted into a digital signal that goes to the HDTV receiver section of your brain. From there it is turned into trans fat which gets diverted to your liver, at which point it is immediately ejected violently from your body via the sebaceous glands. Once it is released into the atmosphere, it provides oxygen to the trees, allowing us all to breathe without requiring gills. Hope that clears things up.

Private eyes are watching you,
John