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Showing posts from February, 2010


I Am The World

So, my obsession with the "We Are the World" remake is finally waning. While I spent a good 24 hours attempting to distinguish who's who on the track after purchasing it on iTunes (my first charitable donation of the year) - and before I watched the star-studded video - a few thoughts popped into my head:

1. Justin Bieber shouldn't have opened the song. I'm sure Lionel Ritchie & Co thought it was good idea to immediately hook in the 15-year-old girls with this tease, but it just wasn't the proper note on which to start such an epic number. It's like asking Abigail Breslin to read the opening to War and Peace.

2. Upon her return to the recording studio after several years, I could sense Barbra Streisand's frustration over her unmet expectations: "You expect me to sing less than 20 words? I could belch out the lyrics to 'Hello Dolly,' and it would be better produced."

3. Enrique Iglesias? Still can't sing.

4. The filter placed on J…


The Saturday Evening Ghost

I remember when Natalie and Tootie had a double wedding. I remember when Blanche was accused of stabbing a lover to death during a murder-mystery weekend. I remember Harry Weston's unconditional love for Dreyfus. I remember Sandra always trying to pull Mary into some neighborhood scheme.

I remember Saturday nights in a way no one born after 1990 can remember. From the mid-80s to the early 90s, I, along with millions of others, actually stayed home on Saturday nights and fell in love with the aforementioned characters. The Facts of Life. The Golden Girls. Amen. 227. Empty Nest. The short-lived Nurses (anyone?). Even Mad About You got its start on this comedy block.

Then, naturally, came the revolving door of 10pm dramas. First there was Hunter, then Sisters, then The Pretender (a Mom favorite). And of course, Profiler (poor Jamie Luner jumped off Melrose to land on another sinking ship). I never stayed up to watch a full episode of either of these shows. My normal routine would consi…


Tokyo Nobody

When you think of Tokyo, images of neon signs, bicycling commuters and crowded streets may come to mind, bringing up an urge to rent Lost in Translation. I haven't visited Japan's capital in over 5 years, but I do remember that it's roughly the size of 4 Manhattans squished together - with opposite-side driving. Pretty intense.

Tokyo Nobody is a book exhibiting the work of Japanese photographer Masataka Nakano. All of his photos are taken in and around Tokyo, the key point being that not one person can be seen in any of them. It's definitely an interesting sight to see some major areas of the world's largest metropolis in such an unusual and eerie state. There's one shot of a carless highway running through a downtown sector that would look great above my living room couch. Just saying.


Random Thought of the Week #13

I'm kinda jonesing for a mini Felicity marathon. I don't know if it's the reruns of old WB shows that play on TNT at the gym every morning, but I've developed a longing to revisit that whispered dialogue, that acoustic soundtrack and one of my all-time favorite television ensembles.


Friday Night Gaga

Friday night I saw Lady's Gaga's breasts.

It wasn't just a flash of boobage glimpsed during a quick wardrobe change. It was more like a lingering observation made from a darkened jail cell, staring at a video monitor while standing behind her proud parents...and her grandmother.

While this may come off as some bizarre vision dreamed up as a result of a toxic combo of vodka Red Bulls and too much dancing at The Factory, it was an actual moment I shared with Mama and Papa Gaga (and a production crew of 20) in an abandoned prison on the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles. I was on the set of her latest music video, "Telephone," the second high-energy single from the wildly entertaining album, The Fame Monster. The scene in question took place a few yards from where we sat. Gaga donned a black-and-white-striped prison gown complete with amplified shoulder pads and a slit down the middle, exposing her pale torso underneath (what would you expect from the woman who once w…


Today is a Good Day

The man to the left, illustrated so colorfully on his latest piece of work, which comes out today, is one of my favorite musicians of all-time. I've waited a long time for this album to come out, his first collection of artist collaborations in nearly seven years (2006's This Binary Universe didn't really count as it was more of an experiment in ambient orchestrations). BT (a.k.a. Brian Transeau) is one of maybe four artists whose albums I'll buy regardless of reviews - on an actual CD.

In addition to this smile-inducing release, today is also the day Oscar nominations are announced. It's the gunshot that kicks off a race meticulously observed by anyone and everyone in this town.

And if that wasn't enough, tonight marks the final season premiere of Lost, a show that will go down in history as one of the best and most influential dramas to grace the small screen.


I may need to be pinched.

H.P.M.