BlueCarp

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The final ever episode ever (for ever ever?) comes on HBO in a few hours.

I am reading the current edition of Entertainment Weekly. They have a list of what they consider the top 10 episodes of the show.

Number 4 is the Pine Barrens episode. I have no problem with the ranking. I have a problem with the description of the episode. EW says, "Paulie and Christopher botch a hit on a drunk Russian."

No, they do not.

There is no "hit" on the Russian.

A "hit" is ordered by a boss. A random attempted murder is just a random attempted murder.

Paulie was just supposed to drop off a payment with the Russian. He was not supposed to kill him. In fact, killing him was a major problem, because the Russian worked for Tony Soprano's Russian money launderer.

Paulie, being as short on social graces as he is with his temper, tried to kill the drunk Russian over an argument about a universal remote control. (I kid you not.)

He failed. Hence, the conflict of the episode.

There was a hit on Jackie April, Jr. There was a hit on Silvio. There is an outstanding hit on Tony himself.

There was no hit on the drunk Russian. (Even though he was an interior decorator that killed many Czechoslovakians.)

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Gwen Stefani's current hit song "The Sweet Escape," features Hip-Hop Flavor-of-the-Week Akon.

I am not sure why.

His contibution to the song consists of yelling "woooo-hoooooo" alternated with yelling "weeee-hoooooo."

I kid you not. He does not rap. He does not sing. He goes "wooo-hoooo" and "weee-hooooo."

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Tony Soprano dies.

But it is in a flash-forward. He dies of old age, in a tomato garden. With an orange slice in his mouth. Chasing a grandchild among the tomato vines.

That would be beautiful.

Or, in the alternative, he kills or alienates everyone in his life that ever meant anything to him. He is in control. He is the boss. But the final shot is him in a big, expensive chair, all alone, with Lake Tahoe behind him in a plate glass window, as the camera pans out. Fade to black.

Or, perhaps, AJ becomes an opera singer. At his big Metropolitan Opera debut, Phil Leotardo has ordered a hit on Tony. On the stairs outside the Met, one of Phil’s guys draws a gun. Chaos ensues. Shots are fired. Meadow is hit in the chest. She dies in Tony’s arms as Tony screams in anguish.

Okay, probably not.

I do think it would be cool if that Russian dude from the Pine Barrens makes a cameo and kills Paulie.

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The Christian Science Monitor wants the goverment to have more power over television.

In response to one argument against governmental expansion of power, the Monitor says, "to simply state that parents alone are responsible for controlling their kids' access to media violence is also to say they should be responsible for such things as safe streets."

That is a misquided sentiment.

Parents are clearly not responsible for safe streets. Parents, however, are responsible for not letting their child venture down a dark alley at night alone. Likewise, parents are responsible for what their little children watch on television.

There are bad streets. There is bad television. It is parents' responsiblity to keep their children away from both. It is no one else's responsiblity, especially some government official. 

The Monitor also says that "television violence is ubiquitous." I do not think that word means what they think it means.  Television violence is NOT everywhere. In fact, it is only on television. It is not in the park. It is not in the backyard. It is not at school. It is not on a soccer field. You get the point.

"Television violence" is not even everywhere on television. It is not on "American Idol." It is not on "Sesame Street." It is not on "Seventh Heaven." It is not on "Jeopardy." It is not ubiquitous.

Televisions, even the brand new ones, have off buttons. That is all the regulation they need.

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This per the IMDB.com TV/Movie News:

'Terminator' Revived for 2009 Movie

The Terminator will be back, thanks to a new takeover by entrepreneurs Victor Kubicek and Derek Anderson. The pair have bought the rights to the film franchise, which has already scored three blockbuster hits, from producers Andy Vajna and Mario Kassar, and they're planning to have a fourth film in cinemas by 2009. It's unlikely that Arnold Schwarzenegger will return as the title character and no director has been attached to the fourth Terminator film. The new movie will center around character John Connor, who was a teenager in the first Terminator films, as he leads mankind on a futuristic battle against machines taking over the planet. (Emphasis added by me.)

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Well, "hate' may be a little too strong, but it is damned annoying.

When you go to ESPN.com, the little video player near the upper right corner will automatically start playing.

I usually keep three or four windows open, and flit back and forth depending on what I am doing. (Some might call that an inability to focus, I like to call it "multitasking." Thank you Bill Gates.)

I will frequently go to ESPN.com and immediately minimize the window before it completely loads. (Yes, I have a cable connection. Do you think I'm a caveman? ... Wait, don't answer that.)

I go about my business with the minimized ESPN.com. Usually, I am listening to the now completely legal Napster or perhaps XM radio.

All of a sudden, and completely unexpectedly, I will hear a commercial playing from ESPN.com. When it first occurred, I had no idea what was going on, and I was frightened and confused.

After a short period of time (five or six months), however, I figured it out. ESPN.com plays commercials before it streams highlights or Stewart Scott yelling Ebonics.

I immediately decided to post this scathing comment.

ESPN.com does not even have an option to disable this absolute annoyance.

It has made CBS' Sportsline.com that much more attractive.

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Want to know more about me? Learn more about my son.

Check out his MySpace page.

If you study it, you will find out my dad is a great-grandfather. And his wife is a fine looking great-grandmother.

Posted by BlueCarp at 08:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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I've been distracted from blogging for several reasons, not the least of which was the discovery of Twitter. Check it out.

I will be back, however, stronger, faster and better.

Posted by BlueCarp at 08:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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Willow Bay is back, bay-bee!

I have always thought she was a complete babe.

Now she can be seen on Lifetime. She hosts a show called "Spotlight 25." The ad blurbs ask "What do today's 25-year-old women have to say about life, love, sex and trying to have it all?"

I don't know. But Willow does.

As much as I love her, I think she made a mistake with her stage name. "Willow Bay" sounds like an apartment complex. Or maybe a resort in Minnesota.

Posted by BlueCarp at 03:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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Sanjaya Malakar is still "singing" each week on American Idol. At first, I thought it was just a matter of time before his fanbase of 12 year old girls who think he's sooooo cuuuuute would fail to keep him on the show.

No longer. He could win the thing. He is so bad, his support is growing. And I am the newest Sanjaya fan.

He is not just a train wreck: He is a commuter train running head on into a troop of charging elephants.

Television has created fame where no talent exists for years. Sanjaya is the ultimate conclusion.

He is the logical product of everything reality television mogul Mark Brunett has created. We should embrace Sanjaya. We should crown him the King of Crappy entertainment.

Much like a kid who is forced to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes, we should make American Idol crown Sanjaya its champion.

We need not worry about the good singers on the show. Melinda Doolittle and LaKisha Jones have done enough. They will get their record deals even if they get voted off next.

Chris Daughtry came in fifth last year. Taylor Hicks won. Daughtry has a number one song. Hicks does number one.

Winning does not matter. The exposure matters.

Let's expose American Idol. Vote Sanjaya. He's soooo cuuuuute.

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Terrence Howard's new movie, Pride, is about inner-city black youth who become competitive swimmers.

It is based on the true story of Jim Ellis, who taught a group of kids in Philadelphia how to compete and win back in 1974.

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North Carolina State gave a valiant effort today as they attempted to win the Atlantic Coast Conference tournament. The Wolfpack won three straight games, an underdog in each, to advance to the finals against favored North Carolina. If the Wolfpack won, they would have made the NCAA tournament. If they lost, they would be relegated to the NIT.

The Wolfpack fell, 89-80. They were led by freshman Brandon Costner, who led all scorers with 28 points.

Costner's excellent game led me to announce that "Costner did his best to go dancing with the Wolves."

Tip your wait staff and try the veal. Thank you, you've been great. 

Posted by BlueCarp at 06:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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Thanks to NetFlix, my wife and I have almost finished watching every single episode of Alias.

Jennifer Garner's acting ability ranges from "looking like she is about to cry" all the way to "looking good in a mini-skirt."

Posted by BlueCarp at 10:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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6:30 The Show Kicks Off with Hostess Ellen DeGeneres.

It is the first year that the host dressed in drag.

Ellen came straight from the thrift shop to host the event.

She’s wearing a burgundy tuxedo, open collar white shirt and white shoes.

Ellen with the international shoutout: “Penelope Cruz, Mexico with a record number of nominations!” Except that Penelope is Spanish. It is hard to keep those foreigners straight, is it not?

6:53 Will Ferrell, wearing his ‘fro, was joined by Jack Black and John C. Riley in a musical number that ended with them promising to take home both Helen Mirren and an Oscar one night. I do not doubt they will.

7:11 DeGeneres acknowledges her Penelope Cruz mistake and says Judy Dench is not present because she is having a boob job.

7:12 A choir of people that make sound effects with their mouths takes the stage. Apparently that guy from Police Academy beat them all out for a movie career.

7:14 Greg Kinnear, famous actor, presents an award. I remember way back when he hosted Talk Soup on E! Aisha has not caught up to him yet.

 7:17 Jessica Biel and James McAvoy are presenters. Jessica is taller than James. A tall actor in Hollywood is harder to find than Katie Holmes since she was kidnapped by Tom Cruise.

7:21 The camera cuts to Djimon Hounsou. He is wearing Ellen’s tux, but in black. It looks better on him.

Jackie Earl Haley is nominated for Best Supporting Actor. Most people do not realize he played Kelly Leak in the Bad  News Bears movies, then took a 40 year hiatus.

7:30     The animated Cars was nominated for best Animated Feature and for Best Song. I reckon that this will be the first and last time that the Academy Awards ever nominate anything featuring Larry the Cable Guy.

8:25     Robert Downey looks like he just got out of bed. Either that, or he has reprised his role from Less Than Zero. Keeping alive the theme, he makes a joke about his drug addiction.

8:45     Jennifer Hudson won for Best Supporting Actress. I guess you do not have to be an American Idol finalist to be successful. Right, Justin Guarini?

8:55     In less of a surprise than Helen Mirren’s upcoming victory, the liberal fear-mongering elite in Hollywood gave the Best Documentary award to An Inconvenient Truth. Al Gore said global warming was a “moral issue.” What? I think he should look up that word.

9:14     Why is Jack Nicholson bald?

9:16     Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst present an award. Tobey is shorter than Kirsten. Yes, I know Kirsten is wearing heels, but Tobey is still a short dude. They should give these short guys a box to stand on.

9:41     I love Kate Winslet.

9:54     Helen Mirren gets the Oscar. She takes it from former child actor Sandy Lyle.

10:04   Forest Whitaker won, too. Seems like yesterday he was playing Jefferson in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

10:08   Martin Scorsese finally gets an Oscar. The crowd goes wild. For my money, The Departed was the best movie of the year. Of course, The Departed was the only picture nominated for Best Picture that I actually saw.

10:14   Bald Jack Nicholson announces that a movie in which he participated, The Departed, is Best Picture. I was right.  

Posted by BlueCarp at 10:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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Rich actors pleased themselves by attending an "eco-friendly" Golden Globe party.

The limousines in which they arrived did not seem to be solar powered, however.

Posted by BlueCarp at 08:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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* Justin Timberlake, fresh off his hit parody "D*** in a Box, presented the second award, for Best Original Song in a Motion Picture. Prince won for "Happy Feet." 

After announcing the winner, several moments passed before Justin realized the Purple one was not present to accept the award.

Justin bent his knees, making himself about a foot shorter, and accepted the award on behalf of Prince.

* Presenter David Spade was introduced as "the star of The Showbiz Show." I don't think The Showbiz Show has been on in a while. I think it has been, as they say in showbiz, "axed." But I guess when the other choices are "Joe Dirt" and "The Benchwarmers," a cancelled cable show is not a bad way to go.

* Tina Fey appeared all dolled up, but she did not wear her glasses. Tina Fey without her glasses is like Barry Bonds without steroids. It's what makes them beautiful. Put the specs back on, Tina. We love all four of your eyes.

 * Patricia Arquette was nominated for Best Actress in a Television Drama for her role in "Medium." It has been a long time since she played the lovable call girl Alabama Worley in "True Romance."

Edie Falco was also nominated in this category for her part in "The Sopranos." How can this be? "The Sopranos" has not been on television in years. Kyra Sedgwick won for her performance as "The Closer." I still have not seen this, but I can not believe she can be that good as a Major League Baseball relief pitcher.

 * Will Ferrell was in the audience, sporting a whiteman 'fro. He looked like he was auditioning to play Greg Brady.

 * It was only appropriate that Sean Combs, known to have lit a few joints in his time, handed the trophy for Best Supporting Actress in a Television Drama to Emily Blunt.

 * Annette Bening and Warren Beatty look like somebody's grandparents. Somebody's really good looking grandparents, but grandparents nonetheless.

* Eddie Murphy won for Best Supporting Actor in a Musical for his role in "Dreamgirls." He's come a long way from "Party All the Time."

 * Bill Nighy won an award. I remember when he was just "Bill Nighy, the Science Guy."

* Cameron Diaz is sporting a jet black hairdo. I hope the 'do is for a role. She looks like Ashlee Simpson's other sister.

 * Geena Davis and James Woods presented together. Poor James. Geena is a half a foot taller than he is.

* They just showed Prince in the audience. He must have been late. I wonder if Justin has given him the trophy yet.

*Hugh Grant just recognized Prince and asked him to take a bow. I did not see the trophy on Prince's table. Justin may have brought sexy back, but he has not given Prince his trophy back.

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As I sit watching the college football championship game on television, I can not help but get a certain connection out of my head.

Am I the only one in the country that is reminded of "Happy Days" and "Married With Children" star Ted McGinley everytime Ohio State wide receiver Ted Ginn, Jr., makes a catch?

I guess it is just me.

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"Cash in the Attic" is a television show on BBC America. (Yes, I have watched it. Cut me slack, I'm married, and we can't watch football and re-runs of "The Shield" all the time. I've tried.)

In the show, antique "experts" go to someone's home and look for things to sell at auction in hope of raising money to buy something new.

Apparently, there is a huge market for ceramic figurines in the United Kingdom. Or, as I like to refer to them, crap that collects dust on a shelf.

There must be a shortage of souvenirs in London. I could go to one of those tacky gift shops on the beach, load up on ceramic chickens and Elvises, fly to Heathrow, sell them at auction, and pay for my trip, including a layover in Monte Carlo.

I might have to do this. I'll bring the wife.

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Everyday, I am amazed by something new.

Today, I am amazed because "The Knack," who had a big hit with the pop song "My Sharona," has enough material to issue an album called "The Best of the Knack." Not only that, but it has 17 tracks on it, and only one of them is "My Sharona."

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In today's Rocky Mountain News, Erika Gonzalez laments Britney Spears' recent skanky ways.

Ms. Gonzalez wants Ms. Spears to clean up her act, and points to Christina Aguilera as an example of whom to emulate:  "Consider Christian Aquilera, who with her piercings and crotchless chaps was once a walking billboard for stripper-wear."

Ms. Gonzalez fashion advice is unassailable, but her knowledge of cowboy lore is lacking.

All chaps are crotchless. Otherwise, they would be pants.

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Denerstein wrote that Gibson "has a tendency to treat violence and death with a bizarre (perhaps even twisted) sense of reverence."

How should one treat death? With a sense of disrespect and scorn?

Treating death with reverence seems appropriate to me.

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A Guns N' Roses concert scheduled for November 6 in Portland, Maine, was cancelled by lead singer Axl Rose. Why? Because local officials would not let him drink on stage. 

Axl later apologized, but blamed "particulary Draconian" authorities for the cancelled show.

Yeah, those damned authorities that were going to keep you from drinking for a whole two hours. Sheesh. Somebody might need to stage an intervention for ol' Axl.

Posted by BlueCarp at 02:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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The Wikipedia entry on actress Ava Gardner describes her as “exotic.”

Gardner was born in Johnston County, North Carolina. I have spent time in Johnson County, North Carolina. Being born in Johnston County, North Carolina, precludes one from being “exotic.”

Gardner was definitely beautiful. “Exotic” she was not.

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Suzanne Somers has a best selling book right now about how to stop the aging proces. (Yes, that Suzanne Somers.)

The book asks

Is aging without illness possible?

Is your own internal fountain of youth waiting to be discovered?

Yes, yes, and YES! says Suzanne Somers, the bestselling author of The Sexy Years. It can all be true when you take advantage of the new science of antiaging medicine—a revolutionary approach to achieving the ageless life.

Wow. Sounds pretty good.

But wait! According to Entertainment Weekly (where else would one go for criticism of a medical book by Suzanne Somers?) the book "has been dismissed by some physicians as medically irresponsible."

Say it ain't so Chrissy Snow, so it ain't so.

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In the movie 8MM, Nicolas Cage plays a private eye trying to find out if a "snuff" film is legitimate or not.

Joaquin Phoenix plays a clerk in a porn store. Phoenix' character serves as Cage's guide in the ugly world of pornography.

Phoenix warns Cage that the journey will change him forever. He says. "There are some things that you see, and you can't unsee them. Know what I mean? "

I do.

The latest episode of the F/X television show "Nip/Tuck" has a scene featuring a brief, but all too long, shot of Rosie O'Donnell's ass.

It is an image so frightening, so wrong, it will haunt me as long as I live.

Posted by BlueCarp at 07:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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In no particular order, and in no particular hurry, I am in the process of reading all of Chuck Palahniuk's fiction.

Like most people, Fight Club was the first Palahniuk book I read. I loved it and still do. 

Since then, I have read Diary, Survivor, Choke, and most recently, Haunted.

Haunted, his most recent novel, is disappointing. Palahniuk has decided to forego satire and mimicry of our superficial culture and has gone for gross out gags instead.

As far as I'm concerned, that's not growth. That's regression.

In the afterword, he brags about how many people have passed out during his readings from the book. That, indeed is something of which to be proud....

if you are a sophomore in college on a camping trip.

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Lisa Kennedy, Denver Post film critic, writes today about the "the proliferation of things loud, proud and spoken with an unmistakable twang" throughout the United States.

Her thesis is that NASCAR, the Blue Collar Comedy Tour and the like have taken hold across the country. She points to the success of Will Ferrell's movie "Talledega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby" and the popularity of Larry the Cable Guy in support.

So far, so good.

She then asks if the glorification of southern culture is a good thing, since it "has been tied closely to bigotry."

I am tired of this ill-conceived stereotype. Too many, for some reason, believe bigotry was born in the backwoods of Missippi where it slowly spread throughout the southeastern states before being confined to the Confederacy by Abe Lincoln. 

Yes, I am a southerner. Yes, bigotry exists in the south. I resent the implication that somehow the south is more bigoted than any other region.

Even in Abe's Union army, the all black 54th Massachusetts Infantry was subject to less-than-equal treatment. Indeed, they were subject to homegrown, Yankee bigotry.

Boston is 1500 miles northeast of Natchez, Mississippi.

In 1986, three black teenagers were assaulted by white kids in Howards Beach, New York. Again, this bigotry was homegrown, New York City-style.

The Big Apple is 900 miles northeast of Huntsville, Alabama.

Where was homosexual teenager Matthew Shepard killed? Shepard was the victim of homegrown, Laramie, Wyoming bigotry.

Savannah, Georgia, is 1800 miles southeast of Laramie.

Laramie is 1800 miles northwest of Savannah, Georgia.

The list goes on. And on.

The South is not the birthplace of, nor a special incubator for, bigotry.

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I know they have a historical connection, but why do magazines insist on categorizing the two together? Denver's Westword, like most magazines, is guilty.

When I am looking for a blues band, I am not looking for a jazz band. Not even close.

Do Muddy Waters and Miles Davis sound similar? No. How about Spyro Gyra and Robert Johnson? Again, no.

Let's stop this unnecessary and confusing practice. List "Jazz" and "Blues" separately.

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One of my guilty pleasures is ESPN's boxing reality show "The Contender."

Sixteen professional boxers started on the show, and each week two fight. The winner advances to the next round. The loser goes home.

The fights are five rounds. ESPN appears to show the entire fight, but they are edited for dramatic effect. Perhaps too much effect.

You know a big punch is coming when the video goes to slow motion and the music rises ominously and the camera cuts to the punchee's girlfriend covering her eyes.

The foley artist no doubt works overtime overdubbing the sound of gloves hitting skin. He could tone it down a bit. Each punch sounds like a two-by-four slapping a naugahyde couch.

Posted by BlueCarp at 07:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

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