Sometimes pop culture can be deeply disturbing. On Entertainment Tonight tonight, Gwyneth Paltrow was discussing wearing a 300-pound fat suit in her next movie, “Shallow Hal.” It chilled me to the bone to hear tiny, bony-pretty Paltrow say that she was so glad she could be part of a project that was all about “people being proud of themselves and who they are, no matter how they look.” Lots of shots of Gwynnie’s actual 300-pound body double, said to be similarly thrilled, although she didn’t say that on camera, of course. No shots of Paltrow in the suit – don’t want to freak people out, after all. Actually put on the pounds, then we’ll talk. Some people can’t shed their sub-par appearances so easily, Gwyneth.

Just got back from a screening of (hold on to something) “Josie and the Pussycats.”

Amazing fact #1: Yes, I paid full, after 5 p.m. price to see this film.
Amazing fact #2: We were not the only people in the theater.
Amazing fact #3: It was actually pretty entertaining, considering how badly it could have sucked.

Perhaps I’ve been brainwashed by the subliminal messages embedded in the film, but there were definitely some funny and (I can’t believe I’m saying this, stop me) clever moments. Qualified therapists, please call or e-mail me immediately.

And after seeing this film, I have just two words for you: BODY GLITTER!

Celebrity nickname which must be scrubbed from the minds of everyone on earth with a wire brush, so there’s no chance of it ever being uttered again, especially by Ebert or Roeper: J-Lo.

Happy Mother’s Day

I love you, Mom.

I spent the afternoon yesterday sitting out on the patio of my building overlooking the lake. No one usually goes out there, since most people have their own private porch/sunroom. I sat out, reading Microserfs (more on the book later), and feeling the breeze blow. It was green and blue and cool and wonderful. I’m lucky.

Great writing, period. Go read it. (stolen from Tin Man)

P.S. This post and the previous one are just a coincidence. I swear.

Learning about homosexuality with The Simpsons:

(Marge is trying to tell Homer that his new friend John the antiques dealer is gay)
Marge: He….prefers the company of men!
Homer: Who doesn’t?

Is it wrong to complain about a free service? How about if you would gladly pay for said service, and then have a justification for expecting a certain level of performance, but no such pay service was available? “You’re welcome to this free Yugo. It breaks down a lot, and once in a while it dumps you beside the road. You can always come back and get another free one, when this one explodes.” Grrr.

Those anti-TV types don’t know what they’re missing. Last night, the death of the beloved Mrs. Landingham on The West Wing at the hands of a drunk driver was a shocker, and proof that a well-told story and an interesting character can be deeply affecting, no matter what the medium. It was handled in a brutally abrupt way, just as an unexpected and tragic death of a friend would be. There’s no foreshadowing, no big leadup. “Is she OK?” says Leo McGarry. “No. She’s dead,” says Charlie Young. The West Wing has the best writing on television, bar none. How do they keep doing that?

Just finished “How to Overthrow the Government” by that closet populist, Arianna Huffington. Entertaining, witty and funny, it’s a fantastic (if not too shocking) account of how our public servants are neither. If the book has a flaw, its that the title isn’t really fulfilled – activism is dealt with only sketchily at the end. I wouldn’t mind a sequel.

Here’s a sample, dealing with Bob Dole’s cringe-inducing ads for Viagra:
[Dole] even compared his campaign to Betty Ford’s fight for breast cancer awareness. As far as I know, no drug company ever paid Betty Ford. Pfizer’s chairman, by contrast, not only paid Dole but pomposly praised him for making “men’s health issues a priority for 1999” and “advocating for Americans with disabilities.” (So that’s why all those handicapped spots are always taken.)