Daily Archives: January 22, 2011

                      Good Brit                                               Bad Brit

Gervais      Morgan2


Ricky Gervais was a brilliant host at the Golden Globes.  The best jokes have an edge, and Ricky socked it to some big shots, including Johnny Depp, Angelina Jolie, and Robert Downey, Jr.  Proof of Gervais’ success came in the form of Entertainment Weekly,  in which Hollywood kiss-butt Mark Harris whined that the comedian was “unprecedentedly nasty.”  Harris wouldn’t recognize comic genius if it kicked him in the balls — because he hasn’t any.

As I feared, Piers Morgan is off to a rocky start with his new show on CNN.  Morgan’s “interview” of Oprah Winfrey was an embarrassing display of sycophantic fawning, blubbering, and journalistic Jell-O.  We learned that Oprah is all about love and giving back to the little people.  We also learned about the depths of Morgan’s insecurities.  Morgan’s interviews later in the week, with Howard Stern and then Gervais, were a bit better, but only because the guests were more interesting than Winfrey.








I’m not sure how to broach this subject without coming off as a homophobe, but as long as I’m trashing Entertainment Weekly …  EW should really consider changing its name to The Advocate.  Not a week passes without the magazine gushing about the gay-centric TV series Glee, and EW’s gay-centric slant is apparent in most of its celebrity profiles.  The mag reached critical mass this week with a cover story about gay teens on TV, and yet one more spread about its beloved Glee.  I fully expect next week’s issue to arrive in the mail with a bouquet of roses.






It’s too soon to know the complete story behind Keith Olbermann’s departure from MSNBC, but if it was a matter of Olbermann versus The Suits, I will always, always side against The Suits.  And if Comcast had anything to do with this, then screw Comcast.  And if this blog mysteriously vanishes, it’s because my Internet provider is Comcast.






Roger Ebert’s new show is misleading us, because  Ebert himself is conspicuously absent.  The first episode reminded me of Alfred Hitchcock Presents — if you tuned in expecting Hitch to direct, you would be disappointed.


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by Richard Bachman



In the introduction to this edition of The Long Walk, King attempts to explain his decision to create “Bachman,” whom he describes as his dark half, a writer more disposed to gloom and doom than the sunny, optimistic author most people know as Stephen King.  But I’m not buying it.  I defy anyone – other than King himself – to read any back-to-back Bachman and King books, without knowledge of the “author,” and then confidently declare which book was written by which version of the writer from Maine. 

Somehow this distinction seems to be important to King, but I doubt that his “constant readers” give a damn.  What does matter is story, and that’s where someone – King, Bachman, or the Ghost of Christmas Past – excels.  The Long Walk was published in King’s prime (1979) and chronicles a mysterious march undertaken by 100 boys walking without pause from the Canadian border to Massachusetts.  This bizarre societal ritual takes place in some alternate universe, but Walk for the most part steers clear of something that I believe trips up so many King novels:  the supernatural. 

Walk’s ending is abrupt, and the teenagers suffer a bit from “Dawson’s Creek Disease,” in which the boys are implausibly wise beyond their years – quoting Keats, making literary allusions, debating philosophy – but the story itself is absorbing, suspenseful, and original.


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