The Grouchy Editor

Life’s Little Irritants

We all hate commercials, but there is one species of advertising that is especially insidious:  the jingle commercial.

I can easily tune out most TV ads.  Some familiar pitch will show up on the screen, and I’ll go back to reading my newspaper.  But ignoring the jingle commercial is next to impossible.  You can be out in the garage, or enjoying a constitutional in the john, and suddenly the hair-raising strains of Neil Patrick Harris crooning “like an angel” for Xfinity will set your ears on fire.  You might be outside mowing the lawn when the gag-inducing “Nationwide is on your side” will drift out the window and infuse you with a desire to disassemble the blades from your mower and use them to slit your own throat.

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Showtime had a free preview, so I tuned in.  With a few exceptions, including The Big C, Showtime has the same problem today that it had 20 years ago, back when I was a subscriber:  Crappy programs.  There are simply way, way too many straight-to-video-caliber movies.

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I’m sorry, but American audiences are like trained seals.  Why on earth do we feel compelled to applaud:  1) the chorus-line kick; 2) people who reach old age; and 3) couples who have been married a long time?

The Rockettes’ high kick doesn’t look particularly challenging.  For all you know, that old geezer you’re applauding could be a lifelong child molester.  The married couple might have endured 50 miserable years together.  But like those trained seals, give us our cue and we’ll applaud.

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Funny guys who strike me as funny only when I channel my inner 12-year-old — and sometimes not even then:  Zach Galifianakis, Adam Sandler, Will Ferrell, Tim Allen, and most of the cast of Saturday Night Live.

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Life’s Little Joys

If you blog long enough, eventually some sort-of-celebrity will leave you a visitor comment.  I have had two such comments at the “Weekly Review,” one of them complimentary, and the other … not so much.  But thank you, Liz Sklar (above left) and Debi Sue Voorhees (above right).

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I don’t know.  I think police might have screwed up when they arrested this guy.  Seriously, does he look like the type who would shoot at an airplane?

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Institutional Fails

The Press

Years ago, a tabloid published a picture of Arnold Schwarzenegger groping an obviously underage Asian girl.  The future governor of California was standing behind the girl, grinning as he reached around her and fondled her breasts with his two gigantic paws. The girl’s eyes said, “I can’t believe he’s doing this.”

Yesterday, I did a Web search for the picture but couldn’t find it, which seemed odd because it was on the Internet in the past.  What’s even stranger is the absolute failure of the press to cover Arnold’s decades-long sexual shenanigans.  The L.A. Times did publish an expose in 2003.  There was also an article in Premiere in 2001.  Somehow, most of this stuff has vanished from the public eye.

The Court System

Lindsay Lohan gets sentenced to two weeks of house arrest.  Poor thing.  Next time I get arrested, I want to be sentenced to a stay in a palatial estate, too.  No wonder so many people have no respect for our criminal justice system.

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Things I managed to (mostly) avoid this week:  Oprah, American Idol, the Casey Anthony trial.

But it’s hard to overlook the pictures of accused child-killer Anthony that are circulating on the Web, so here’s another look.

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This, uh, “guy” has been making the talk-show rounds, promoting his/her book, Transition.  I didn’t quite know what to expect from the former daughter of Sonny and Cher, but now I do:  Chaz Bono (pictured here with girlfriend Jennifer Elia) seems to be one of the most well-adjusted, affable, funny, and intelligent blokes you might ever have the pleasure of meeting.

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THE END OF

THE WORLD 

The world ends today, so don’t feel obligated to read this post.  Have a beer, instead — if you have time.

I had a feeling something like this was going to happen because the other night I watched an obscure 1960s movie called Twisted Nerve, and in it Hayley Mills sees a man’s penis in the woods.  The moment I saw that scene, I knew the world must be ending.  I mean … Pollyanna?

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Crazy Chicks Edition

“Yes, it improved the way I look, but this surgery was necessary for medical reasons.” — role model Bristol Palin, 20, explaining the plastic surgery that gave her a new face.  Right, Bristol.  Your surgery had nothing to do with your new career as a reality TV star.  Did you learn how to lie from your mother?

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The older I get, the less crazy that Shirley MacLaine seems to me.  Shirley is now promoting her new book, I’m Over All That, but I’m going to read the book that initially crowned her Queen of the Flakes back in the ’80s, Out on a Limb.  Reincarnation?  UFOs?  Hey, you got any better ideas?

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Correction:  It appears we committed a grievous error in the March 13 edition of the “Weekly Review.”  Apparently we misidentified Kate Middleton’s royal rump.  It now appears that the bikinied bottom we reproduced belongs to Middleton’s wild-and-crazy sister Pippa.  We apologize to Kate’s arse, and to Pippa’s arse, which is rising in popularity now that it has its own Twitter account:

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Hilary Swank is a movie star who, let’s face it, is not blessed with movie-star looks.  But L.A. radio host Kim Masters was a bit harsh when she told Swank, “[Meryl Streep] is not a pretty girl, and you’re not either.”  Swank took the insult in good humor.  Good on Swank, bad on Masters.

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Media Bullshit of the Week:  David Letterman (age 64), Chris Matthews (age 65) and other TV knuckleheads have been calling the late Osama bin Laden “old.”  Bin Laden was born in 1957.  It is scientifically, socially, and journalistically not possible for anyone born in 1957 to be “old.”

Now get off my lawn.

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Is there anyone more physically repulsive than the American politician?  Someone, I forget who, once said that the average politico is an egotist too homely to go into acting, so he (or she) pursues public service instead.  Anything for attention.

What makes the politician even more repellent is his vanity — these guys, cringe-inducing as they are, actually believe that they are attractive.  This is made possible because they have power.  People will overlook a pile of feces in the street if there’s money buried beneath it.

I am ranting about this because I just watched a politician named “Dutch” Ruppersberger on the news, and I didn’t hear a thing he was saying because I was too distracted by the ridiculous toupee on his ancient pate.  Is no one in this guy’s inner circle courageous enough to tell him he’s making an ass of himself?

To me, the hands-down winner of any Ugly on a Stick competition has to be Newt Gingrich:  fat, smarmy, scrunch-faced, slit-eyed and with an attitude that says, “Tom Cruise, eat your heart out!”  Would the nation ever recover from a president this ugly?

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We can’t conclude this week’s “Review” on such an ugly note, so let’s forget about politicians and instead remember Yvette Vickers, the Playboy Playmate who, sadly, was discovered dead and mummified in her California home last week.  Here is Yvette back in her 1950s Playboy glory days:

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