August 20th, 2007

(no subject)

Ben Peek offers this from Robot Chicken, a stop motion extravanganze featuring JK Rowling, Hitler, Thunderbirds, Clifford the Big Red Dog,and Corey Haim and Corey Feldman rescuing the Bush daughters from inebriation and worse...

To the winners of the contest I ran before leaving for Europe: I've yet to receive the books from the dealer who was supposed to mail them from Readercon, but bear with me and I'll get them to you before too long.

I went to see Invasion Friday and I offer this for what it's worth. It's easily the worst of the four films made from the novel. Watching it, I had a sense that Hirschbeigel, who surprisingly remains the director of record, was going for a low-key psychological horror pic. Whether it would have worked or not, hard to say. But once James McTeague introduced a few lame chase scenes and tacked on an improbable upbeat ending, the result was unbearably stupid and lacking the slightest tension.


I knew there had to be a reason...

Actor Steven Seagal is seeking an apology from the Federal Bureau Of Investigation, for allegedly harming his career by implicating he hired a private detective to intimidate journalists from writing unflattering stories about him. The 56-year-old has made 12 movies since 2001's Exit Wounds - all have been released directly onto DVD, bypassing cinemas, and Seagal is convinced the leaked release of an October 2002 FBI affidavit linking him to the mob is responsible for his decline in popularity. The affidavit detailed how Seagal hired private eye Anthony Pellicano to threaten reporters, before the investigation focused entirely on Pellicano, who is now in prison awaiting a trial on charges including wire-tapping, But Seagal has never been publicly cleared by the FBI, and the actor wants this done so his reputation is immediately restored, reports the Los Angeles Times. Seagal recently said, "False FBI accusations fuelled thousands of articles saying that I terrorize journalists and associate with the Mafia. These kinds of inflammatory allegations scare studio heads and independent producers - and kill careers." He added, "I was sick of hearing my name associated with a crime the government knew I had nothing to do with. Until it happens to you, you can't imagine what it does to your life."
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Michael and Jeri Bishop on TV

A week or two ago, the Bishops were interviewed for GOOD MORNING AMERICA on the death of their son Jamie. The result is--tentatively, but with high probability--scheduled to air on the GMA show of Tuesday August 21, between 7-7:30 AM.

Tune in, if you would.

Posted by Paul DiFi.
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Todd Schorr: Variations in Kitsch

The anonymous respirator-wearing worker tending the giant bubbling vat of lava-lamp fluid leaned over just a bit too far. Out of his shirt pocket fell a small, curious pebble he had picked up on the way to work that morning. That pebble was, in fact, the remnant of a thousand-ton meteorite from beyond the Horsehead Nebula, all that had survived the burning passage through Earth's atmosphere, and it possessed uncanny properties.

The lamps filled with the contaminated fluid were shipped around the nation.

One went to Kaarlo Krisp, a Broadway set designer who lived in a Greenwich Village apartment surrounded by all the nostalgic icons of his youth acquired through assiduous collecting.

Kaarlo tripped while carrying the lava lamp upstairs and dropped it, opening a hairline crack in its vessel. Nervously running his finger around the glass, Kaarlo simultaneously cut himself and absorbed some of the alien fluid into his cut.

During the next ten hours Kaarlo experienced a trip like no other human had ever undergone. He journeyed to a world where cavemen manned a NASA-style Mission Control, and another where tubby porkers bowled an infinite succession of perfect games. The menage a trois with Sheena Queen of the Jungle and the Fujiyama Mama brought a tear to his eye. He was just getting used to the constantly shifting scenery and characters when a small crocodile wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a sombrero materialized and said, "Hey, kid, is your ticket punched?"

"No," Kaarlo replied.

Despite its diminuitive size, the crocodile conductor had no difficulty with getting the prongs of his punch into Kaarlo's ears, or with squeezing real hard.