This week I partook of the sweet nectar that is “what everybody else is doing” (versus my usual activity of “mostly working and not much else”). Yes, I picked up a copy of Grand Theft Auto IV: Lord of Illusions and I went and saw Iron Man on opening weekend.

Iron Man made eleventy-billion-ten dollars and seventy-five cents domestically, and five-twenty times that combined with its international numbers. (I know because I work in entertainment journalism, so don’t get too impressed.) Oh, and the $10.75 was from me, thank you very much. So you know it had to be a good movie, even if our particular screening didn’t show the secret scene after the credits.

Grand Theft Auto IV, on the other hand, lets you punch a bitch out for absolutely no reason. If you’re like me, you do this often enough that it actually gets in the way of your trying to do the missions in the game. Like, I’ll need to get from point A to point B — it’s simple really, just go there. But on the way a homeless man asks me for money, so I hit him with a brick. Then the cops come (since when do cops care about homeless people?) and I have to steal a car for a fast getaway, which makes them even more duty-bound to stop me, or whatever. So now I really need to escape, except I’m not very good at driving yet because I’ve spent most of my time hitting people with bricks. It doesn’t help that in my panic I inevitably grab some delivery van or airline luggage cart. So it takes a ton of time to lose the fuzz, and by then I have to go do something in real life, and I can’t finish the original mission: getting from point A to point B.

You learn a lot about yourself from playing this game, which means it’s educational, which means it’s good for kids.

I have a conservative grandfather and I have a liberal grandfather. Neither is what you would call fanatical in his beliefs, but both definitely have an opinion and aren’t afraid to forward it along as an e-mail attachment. Oh yes, my grandfathers took the senior cruise across the digital divide, lingered in the “using e-mail” seminar and then grabbed a nap during the “please don’t forward everything” post-seminar lecture.

Interestingly, I get a lot of the same things from both of them, with slight differences. Replace “Hillary” with “McCain” or “communist” with “racist” or red font with blue font and much of what they send is basically identical. I usually refrain from responding to it, as I hate to encourage them, but a while back I got one that I couldn’t ignore.

It claimed that recently all the schools in the U.K. banned teaching about the holocaust in order to avoid offending Muslim students. There are about a million reasons that immediately flashed through my mind that there’s no way in hell that would happen, but to be be sure I checked a couple places. Turns out I was right, the U.K. didn’t ban teaching the holocaust, although that did happen in one school, apparently.

But boy, this is how prejudice takes off running and keeps on truckin’, isn’t it? My poor grandfather read that and believed it. He’s a really smart guy, too. I once saw him build an airplane out of a rake and some rubber cement. But he believed this forward enough to send it to everyone whose e-mail address he has. The message ended: “How long will it be until we forget about September 11th?” Or some crap like that. Look, no one is forgetting, okay? Who could forget? More importantly, even if the “banning the holocaust from history class” thing were true, that wouldn’t be forgetting. That would be altering curricula to placate the religious beliefs of a certain group, something we’d never do in the U.S., right? Oh, wait…

And sure, people who deny that the holocaust happened are operating on a level of blind faith that I can’t begin to imagine, but so are people who pray to an invisible man who apparently died for our sins (well, for the sins of those who pray, at least) and now lives in a magical, wonderful place where there’s no evil and no pain and free cookies.

There was a point in there somewhere, but I blacked out. I suppose things like this don’t need to have a thesis that’s all neat and tidy. That’s for college kids. Doesn’t the bloggers’ handbook say that you aren’t allowed to conclude a post with a paragraph that begins “In summation…”? This is “take away what you will” prose. What does it mean to you?

In summation, you don’t need to travel to dusty foreign countries to find religious fanaticism running rampant over sacred, government-run institutions. Take a walk around the block.

(By the way, this post had nothing to do with sex. What made you think it should?)

Craigslist: Edit Spaish Website. Must be detail oriented - $40/hr

Spanish. I read a lot of Craigslist postings from companies looking for writers or editors. There’s always something special when the headline proves their need to fill the position.

Oh, and the site needing translation is www.lamejorliposuccion.com, which translates to “The Best Liposuction” (dot com).

I played in the World Poker Tour Celebrity Invitational Saturday and wrote about it for Hollywood Reporter’s Past Deadline blog here.

That little post doesn’t go into much detail about my personal experience at the tournament. I was planning to do more of writeup for this site at some point in the not-too-distant future. “Planning.”

Here’s the short version:

I hung out at the same party, pulling hors devours from the same trays, as some celebrities like Don Cheadle, Jennifer Tilly, James Woods, the guy who played “Donkey Lips” in Nickelodeon’s Salute Your Shorts, Corey Feldman, Montel Williams. The list goes on. More importantly, I was drinking beer delivered by the same cocktail servers as those drunk by poker players like Erick Lindgren, Gavin Smith, Amnon Filippi, Antonio Esfandiari, Daniel Alaei. The list goes on. Yes, me. Charley Daniels from Grants Pass, Orygun. Rubbing elbows, etc. I made eye contact with Norm Macdonald.

It was a cool night. My table was a little boring on the celebrity front. Best we could do was former Miss USA Shandi something-or-other (apparently she’s best known for her stint on Dancing With the Stars) and Andrew Firestone, who sat right next to me and said he was there because he was on “some reality show.” The topic came up because I asked him if he hangs at the Peet’s on Larchmont. He doesn’t. I see a lookalike there sometimes. Very nice guy. Firestone, not the guy who looks like him. Well, maybe that guy’s nice. I don’t know him like I now know Andy F. And I don’t judge him even though he was not only on The Bachelor, he was The Bachelor — or one of them at least. As Isabelle puts it, he was the only normal bachelor. That makes sense. In an Isabelle sort of way.

Bit of poker talk below the fold (this is my new way of saying “after the jump.” It’s newspaper jargon, even though “news” isn’t even on the list of things this site knows the definition of).

(more…)

I spend a good deal of time assuming that our next president will be an order of magnitude better than our current president. Which is fine, since I also spend a good deal of time realizing that that probably isn’t true and our president will likely always leave something to be desired, and by that I mean I’ll almost certainly have to vote for the least bad of two people I probably wouldn’t even trust to run a wet T-shirt contest.

But maybe I shouldn’t be so critical of the candidates, especially since when it comes down to it, if I were a Democrat on the fence during primary season, this might help me decide:

And if it did help me decide, would that make my vote count any less? Would that make the title any less important to the person who is elected?

This may not be an official product of the Hillary Clinton campaign, but if it’s not it’s genius negative publicity, so the opposition gets points for that.

Yes, yes, I know. I’m not even going to start by acknowledging that it’s been a while before I’ve posted anything. Ah hell, I just did. Moving on …

At some point in the last several months I predicted that 2008 was going to be the greatest year of my life, and so far I’ve been right, provided you read the fine print in which I specified the definition of “greatest” in that case as relating to tons of work and not enough time. Yes, I went and got a new job with a weird schedule, have half-assedly took on too many extra things, and am still finding time to make up cool new words like “half-assedly” and “extra” (you just prove that I didn’t make that up, smart ass). But things should settle down. When I’m dead.

And this month — don’t even get me started on this month. The writers strike ended, which is great now that it’s over because I’ll have a smidge less work to do, but jeez it was hell while it was ending. “Smidge.” Did I make that up, too? Lookit me go!

Also, Oscars are coming. Cue Jaws suspense music. That weekend will not be good for me, lemme tell ya. Speaking of Jaws, Roy Scheider died. Defamer had the best headline (though I’m sure it was oft-repeated in many forms, I saw it there first): Heaven’s gonna need a bigger boat.

I’ll stop complaining right after I mention that we’re trying to move this month, and at this point we have nary an option for parking our belongings. But hey, there’s still 16 days left in February. No sweat, right? Wrong! No time, no time! Help me!

Also, I’m getting sick, so that’s good.

In politics, Clinton and Obama, McCain. Huckabee? Not Romney, etc. That about sums it up. McCain is the Republican frontrunner. The Democrats don’t have a frontrunner because they’re commies, and that’s not the way commies roll. Back in April I wrote a post on this blog defending John McCain in a way, though I was mostly defending the idea that politicians should be allowed a bit of levity. I said:

Look, If politicians aren’t allowed to have a sense of humor in a situation that’s informal and lighthearted, maybe we should just skip to the part where robots take over, since we’re already at least a third of the way there.

What I was referring to was a joke McCain made in which he took the hit Beach Boys cover “Barbara Ann,” which is the title and 95% of the lyrics, and cleverly switched the words to “Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran.” Many people saw that as callous, and I definitely agree, but that’s sort of why it’s funny, so I’m not very torn. When you have a choice, humor always trumps tact. Always.

So now he’s the frontrunner, and if he becomes the nominee I’ll definitely be giving my support wholeheartedly to not him. With this in mind, it’s a good time to get that video out again and revive the outrage. I mean, do we want this callous megalomaniac running our country?

I should have posted about this sooner, but the last couple weeks have been crazy. Stephanie Haranczyk, who disappeared more than a year ago, has made contact with her family and is doing well.

Thanks again for everyone who showed up seemingly out of the clear blue sky to help a bunch of strangers.

Special thanks to Maryam Scoble, Teresa Valdez Klein and Hasan Diwan, whose efforts got a lot of attention for the cause.

Updated to add Maryam Scoble to the short list. She certainly isn’t the only one I left off, so thanks to anyone and everyone who belongs there. Feel free to remind me in comments and I’ll keep adding.

I’m mostly sorry for not posting, but it’s been a hectic few weeks. I have a new full-time job, which wasn’t part of the plan, but hey — plans change. I’m now a news editor for this little website, which is cool, but my schedule is way different now and I’m trying to adjust.

It’s like I’ve made a decision that could alter the course of my entire life.

More like this here.

One day I’ll post more. One day.

Hey NBC! Why not have the new American Gladiators serve as hosts and presenters at the ailing Golden Globes? Picket-line problems solved! Also, I’d totally watch that.

“And the winner for best actress in a musical or comedy television series is …”

Someone was talking about Christmas truces the other day. I apologize for not remembering who it was. At the time, I thought, “Wow, that’s a really great story.” And I meant that, although I must admit I was a bit skeptical about how true it was.

I mean, soldiers from opposing sides in a war go from killing each other on Dec. 24 to singing carols and giving each other presents on Dec. 25 and then back to killing each other on Dec. 26. It sounds like a movie plot that you would find ridiculous. And it ends sadly, true, but that middle bit is the part we should try to focus on and maybe even emulate — and not just on Dec. 25.

The link above mostly verifies the truce story, and that makes me happy. Granted, it’s from Wikipedia, so you never know, but the references seem legit. Aside from that, I’m going to just go ahead and believe it. I’m going to have a little faith this x-mas eve day. And thanks to Cardhouse for reminding me to read about that.

Probably won’t be much posting from me for the rest of the year, but you all have my permission to make it the greatest week of 2007. In fact, I order you to go out with a bang. I predict that 2008 will be the best year of my life, and I hope you’re similarly optimistic. If you’re not, I hope 2008 proves you wrong, because if every year isn’t better than the last, what the hell are we trying to do here?

CNN: Jamie Lynn Spears pregnancy raises legal questions

Yes, she’s pregnant, she’s 16, her boyfriend is 18, and there’s a bunch of hubbub. Depending on where they got down, it could be illegal. Blah blah blah, who cares. What’s really at issue is the unfortunate choice of phrasing used by the law professor whom CNN interviewed:

“You have a disturbing disparity in how these laws are enforced,” said Jonathan Turley, a law professor at George Washington University. “I have no problem at all with nailing adults who sleep with children, but I have a problem with the prosecution of teenagers in consensual relationships.”

You get ‘em, Turley!

This is pretty cool:

Full version here.

[via YesButNoButYes]

I read this question and I said to myself, “Who is Jose Castillo and why did pirates have him?” It took me probably a full 20 seconds to realize it’s a baseball question (I didn’t read the answer options while I was considering this, obviously). Then I thought about what an awesome world I’d live in if that were a news question.

Will the pirates who captured Jose Castillo regret the decision to let him go? And why? Was he a good hostage for leverage? Or is he unstoppable when seeking revenge? Will he hunt the pirates and their families while they sleep? Do pirates have families that they care about? Oh, wait, it’s just a baseball question. I don’t know anything about baseball.

With celebrity cameos!

[Via Bob and David]

I know this is old. Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw tears Halo 3 a new one, and he’s absolutely right, for the most part. I enjoyed the game, but everything he says in this review is true. The multiplayer aspects do make it worthwhile, but the single-player campaign is terrible. Most importantly, he’s pretty funny.

Time for another exclamation-filled edition of Hey You! (Advice you didn’t even know you needed!).

Hey expecting mothers! If you think Dale is the perfect name, you’re right! There is a catch, however: There’s no little girl version! For Christopher, there’s Christina; for Charles, there’s Charlotte; for Nicholas, there’s Nicole — but what about Dale? Lovers of Dale with newborn girls need bear this burden no longer! For Dale, there’s Female Dale. It rhymes!

Hey interviewers and panel moderators! When you’re asking an interviewee a question, try to make it simple and open-ended, and definitely try not to answer the question for them! When an audience goes to see a panel discussion or Q&A, they aren’t interested in you, the moderator. For example, say you’re moderating a panel discussion that features the person who invented the spork. You might ask, “Where did you get the idea to combine a fork and a spoon?” Simple, direct, and open-ended! A less-successful attempt at the same question might go something like this: “So I read that one day you were having a picnic with your family and you only packed forks, which turned out to be a disaster because one of the dishes you brought along was a soup. And I mean, some soups work fine with a fork, and you can always drink the broth instead of scooping it, but even still that situation made you realize it would be great and economical to have a utensil that’s both a fork and a spoon…” And on and on until the spork guy interrupts you with some sort of answer (probably just “yes,” since you basically answered the question while you were asking it). Keep it simple, interviewers and panel moderators!

Hey big-drinking world travelers! Got 10 grand and a month to spare? Go on The World’s Biggest Pub Crawl! Twenty-five days of straight drinking! In 60 pubs! Across 12 countries! Spanning four continents! You haven’t drunk unless you’ve been drunk around the world!

Whew! Wheeehew! I did it, man. NaBloPoMo didn’t defeat me, even though it tried. And my November journey came full circle, as yesterday I was finally able to lay down a long, loud honk of solidarity for the writers whose trust I abused earlier this month. I’d tell the story, but it’s essentially the same as the one I linked to above, except instead of there being no writers, there were at least two dozen. Oh, and I was in the left lane for this version of the story (the studios are on the right), so it didn’t have the maximum effect, but I needed a coffee and that was on the left on the next block. I don’t think that’s too big of a deal, though, and neither did they, because my honk was still accepted with enthusiasm

It’s a victory all around.

Tonight I’ll be watching Bender’s Big Score, which I’m so effin excited about that I forgot how to swear properly. Tomorrow I’m going to a screening of No Country for Old Men, followed by a Q&A with Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin. I’m pretty excited about that, too.

Perhaps my most important plan for tomorrow, though, is I’ll not be posting a blog entry here. In fact, my posts here may be pretty sporadic through the rest of December, as I’m still super busy and likely to be swamped right up through the new year. Come January, however, blogging is basically all I’ll be doing. I plan to get this bad boy in shape, like I’ve said so many times before. The difference is, it looks like I’m going to have the time and, Josh willing, the energy to do it.

Been paying attention to job postings a little more closely lately for whatever reason, and some of them are pretty interesting. Take this one:

We need a creative, corky, romantic and fun writer to help with our online site for Friday 11/30/2007 and Monday 12/3/2007.

That is the entire text of the listing. But no more needs to be said. You can tell all you need to know about the company from just the one sentence. First, they have an online site to work on. So that’s good. Very now. Their online site is in need of something to be written, obviously. So they’re looking for a writer who’s creative — a creative writer. There are plenty of those. But how many creative writers can say they’re fun, romantic, and corky? Not many. Plenty are fun, several are romantic, and some are corky, but all three? Could be tough.

This ad is perfect. It took just one sentence for them to ask for a writer and leave no doubt that they need one.

Well, I did it. Or I’m doing it. Giving up my full-time job to pursue those ever-elusive “other things.” Excited? Yes. Apprehensive? Yes. Ready for anything? I’d better be, because who knows what’s going to happen.

I’ve been running myself ragged this month, and it’s starting to show in all of my work. Let’s recap. For starters, there’s this NaBloPoMo ordeal, which hasn’t really taken a lot of effort (as if you couldn’t tell), but knowing there’s one more thing to do each day is mentally draining, even if the task itself doesn’t usually amount to much. So there’s that. Then I’m at the office from 10 a.m. to at least 6 p.m., Monday through Friday. The last few weeks have been especially busy there, so I arrive at work, sit at the computer, begin editing, eat a sandwich while editing, find a place to stop editing, turn off computer, go home. Once I get home, it’s BuzzDash and Digital Theatre time.

Lots to do, not enough hours in the day. So getting rid of the full-time gig is the best option. At this point I’m uncertain about my future with the Nielsen Company. We’re trying to work out an arrangement where I can become a part-time employee, but to be honest it sounds like a long shot. And even if they get the bosses to agree to allow me to be part-time, there’s no telling if we’ll be able to come to an agreement that suits me and the company. They’ve asked me to stay at least until they find a replacement, and I said I’d do what I can, but that come January, I need to have at least three days a week off (that’s work days, not weekends).

So I’m doing it. I’m leaving stability and comfort for instability and happiness. In theory. To be honest, I have no idea how this is going to work out. I’m really excited and, honestly, scared to death.