Screw the Oscars. I plan to spend this evening watching my new DVD of Lost in Translation, the best film of 2003.

I just finished reading GODS AND MORTALS, the first of four volumes collecting George Perez's relaunch of Wonder Woman for DC Comics in 1986. It's a superb read -- Perez was at the top of his game, and draws the most stunningly gorgeous Wonder Woman I've ever seen. The book also captures that elusive, electric energy that was running through the whole DC line in 1986; as a preteenager reading books like Legends, the Superman revamp, the Giffen and DeMatteis Justice League, Suicide Squad, Green Lantern Corps, and so much more (funny how many more comics I read when the cover price was 75 cents and not $2.99...) I felt like I was witnessing a renaissance in the DC line that must have been just like the birth of the Silver Age.

But that's not actually what I want to write about. This collection, I think, represents the first time DC has used any of the hundreds (if not thousands) of pages of character studies that were drawn for its encyclopedic Who's Who series in another context. The last few pages of the volume reprint the (recolored) art and text from those entries, and it makes me wonder what else DC could do with the Who's Who art in its files. I've been very surprised, for instance, that DC hasn't put together a Jack Kirby portfolio with his late-career takes on just about all of the super-hero and adventure characters he did for DC over the years. They put together a collection of Kirby's Green Arrow stories, for Jebus' sake; surely there'd be interest in a collection of his Who's Who entries?

This Salon article about the possibility of a Democratc win in Arizona jumped out at me because I'm in the midst of Rick Perlstein's fantastic book Before the Storm: Barry Goldwater and the Unmaking of the American Consensus. It's intriguing, but written by that tool Sidney Blumenthal, so make of it what you will.

There's a fascinating article about Brian Wilson's lost album in today's Washington Post:

Wilson was the fragile musical genius who wrote, produced and performed on the Beach Boys' exuberant hits during the 1960s. "Smile" was reputed to be his ultimate achievement, a densely packed song cycle of intriguing melody and rich harmony that should have appeared at about the same time as the Beatles' classic "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" album.

But somewhere on the road to completion in the spring and summer of 1967 Wilson lost his way, scrapping large chunks of "Smile" and descending into nearly three decades of drug-induced madness from which he began to emerge only a few years ago. And "Smile" descended with him. A few pieces of the puzzle appeared on various albums to tempt and torment Wilson's fans. But the great work itself vanished, as if it had never existed.

Until now.

This past week, Wilson, now 61, has been treating British audiences to a modern version of "Smile," performed for the first time live onstage at Royal Festival Hall here. It's been an event of extraordinary power and poignancy, sold out for five nights, fronted by a man who barely makes eye contact with the audience, whose voice often struggles to remain on key, and whose every hesitant gesture suggests a lifetime of pain and turmoil.

Read the whole thing, even if your knowledge of the Beach Boys as artists is limited to the nagging feeling that much of their work is probably horribly underrated which you got after seeing how well Cameron Crowe used "Good Vibrations" in Vanilla Sky.

This is the "cover image" at Salon.com today:

San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom stands between newlyweds Cissie Bonini, left, and Lora Pertle during a reception at San Francisco City Hall Feb. 13.

Um, Mayor Newsom? It's not cool to be checking out the bride like that. I'm just sayin', here, is all.

Josh Marshall nails President Bush's puch for a no-gay-marriage amendment:

It's his dad and the flag burning amendment all over again. Is there really anything that tells you more about a man's character than this?

Slate talks about those bizarre Quizno's ads:

What are these creatures? As I say, they're called spongmonkeys. I don't know why and neither did Hall. In your mail to me, you've called them: gerbils with birth defects; Mr. Potato Rats; drug-addled, castrato hamsters; and "hell lemurs" (which, while catchy, is not really accurate, as the lemur body type is far more ectomorphic). Whatever they are, they're clearly Photoshopped, and if pressed I would say the base element is a pygmy marmoset.

You gotta be kidding. Many of you are repulsed by the spongmonkeys, can't fathom how they would make you desire a sub, and worry that these ratlike creatures suggest an unsanitary sandwich-prep environment.

Hall says that Quiznos needs to be "dramatic" with the airtime it buys, because it's got a smaller ad budget than its competitors. It's a brand that's still in a growth stage, and its main goal right now is awareness—i.e., water-cooler talk. Mission accomplished, I'd say. By the way, this is an ongoing strategy for Quiznos and has met with some detractors in the past. Last fall, Ad Report Card critiqued a Quiznos spot in which a man suckles at the teat of a she-wolf.

This is genius advertising! You know what? I totally agree! Teat-sucking was over the line, yes, but the spongmonkeys are delightful. They've got a certain winning charm—you can feel it in the way they sing "pepper baaarrrr!" And come on, the pirate hat? Kudos.

Is this ad incomprehensibly weird? Yes. Quiznos transformed a piece of outsider art into a nationwide ad campaign. And I'm all for it. I hope their next ad somehow features a 16-foot model of the Lusitania built entirely of toothpicks and wood glue.

Also, believe it or not, there is some classic marketing strategy going on here. As others have pointed out, this spot—unlike shock-spots with, say, flatulent horses—actually centers on product attributes. We're told that Quiznos subs are tasty, crunchy, warm, and toasted. We're introduced to the concept of the pepper bar, which one imagines is a bar stocked with a menagerie of peppers. (Not really my thing, but still, a selling point of sorts.)

Personally, I find the things pretty fucking repulsive, but that's just me. Go eat Schlotzky's instead.

Although, damn, that song is pretty infectious...

Score one for the good guys:

You know, if I were Todd McFarlane, I would simply have apologised a long time ago. Instead, Todd threw a lot of money at lawyers, and lost the legal case in every way he could lose it, and then threw a lot more money at lawyers to appeal and just lost it again, for good.
...

Anyway... it's still full steam ahead now for the Miracleman plans, and now I need to figure out what I want to do with Angela, Cogliostro and Medieval Spawn.

More good casting news about the new Batman film was released yesterday:

The Hollywood Reporter is now stating that Ken Watanabe has been cast in Christopher Nolan's BATMAN movie. Watanabe will reportedly be playing the part of the criminal mastermind R'as al Ghul, arch-nemesis to the Dark Knight.

The Japanese actor is up for a Best Supporting Actor this coming weekend for his performance in THE LAST SAMURAI.

This is very, very cool. Watanabe was far and away the best thing about The Last Samurai (a film I really enjoyed, in spite of the woman sitting next to me who kept describing what was happening onscreen to herself -- "Oh, they're riding horses!" "They're fighting with swords!" and so on...) and I'm sure he'll do a great job playing the last great Batman villain.

But the fanboy ranting has already begun, as you can see here:

But hasn't Ra's always been European?

Also, does anyone know how good Watanabe's English is? It was heavily-accented but understandable in TLS; it's possible that his American accent is much better and he was merely pulling a Lambert Wilson for the dramatic effect. Oh well; at least it guarantees he'll sound cool calling Bale "detective".

Does this mean that Talia will also be Japanese, or what?

And here:

Ra's is supposed to be of mixed Arabian blood, I believe. According to Julie, Ra's al Ghul is an Arabic phrase.

What's funny here, of course, is that we see a character who actually belongs to a racial/ethnic minority, and Hollywood in its infinite wisdom casts a different racial/ethinicity.

As the philopospher Mike Nelson once said, what the hell?

I've always imagined Ra's as ethnically indeterminate, with a bloodline incorporating ethnicities and cultures that no longer exist. The guy's nigh-immortal, right? So why fix him to a particular ethnicity, and demand that in the casting, instead of being happy that a really, really good actor has been cast as the villain in a Batman film that just might not suck? There's no ethnicity that's essential to Ra's' (that doesn't look right...) character, so why not just go with someone who can bring the appropriate presence and menace to the role?

Good news: Teen Titans toys! Now I just hope they're in scale with Mattel's Justice League line...

Snort.

This just in: Comics journalism is not very good.

Now this, this is just plain wrong.

Trachtenberg isn't ashamed of her physical attributes, though, and is amused by how prominently her cleavage is displayed on the "Eurotrip" poster, especially when she learned that her image was not enhanced in any way.

"Maybe it was the way I was sitting that day," she muses, "or maybe I had a lot of salt."

Oh, Sherilyn, Sherilyn...

Sherman Hemsley, known best for his work in "The Jeffersons," is returning to the sitcom. At least his voice is.
Hemsley will give voice to the talking horse in FOX's remake of the 1960s sitcom "Mister Ed," according to The Hollywood Reporter. The show, about a man who owns a horse that talks, is being updated to have a more "urban" sensibility.

David Allen Basche ("Three Sisters") and Sherilyn Fenn ("Twin Peaks," "Dawson's Creek") have previously signed on to the pilot, which comes from 20th Century Fox TV and Original TV, playing Mister Ed's owner, Wilbur Post, and his wife.

According to Cinescape, Kevin Smith has been tapped to do a Green Hornet movie:

Smith will write the script and direct the movie for Miramax Films as his next project, hoping to have the camera rolling by late summer. No stars are attached to the project so far but the CLERKS helmer thinks the idea of having George Clooney and Jet Li as the Hornet and Kato isn't such a bad idea.

This marks the second time that Smith has worked on a superhero project for Hollywood, with his last experience being the disappointing SUPERMAN screenplay he submitted to producer Jon Peters. "I always said I'd never do one, based on my limited experience writing on SUPERMAN and having to answer to the studio, the producer, the comics company and eventually a director," Smith explained to Variety. "Then there's a fandom that gets up in arms if you even try to stray from their character." Since the Hornet has been relatively low key in the public and the genre, Smith will have a freedom for exploration and his own vision that won't step on too many toes.

I imagine the movie will consist largely of two-shots of Green Hornet and Kato arguing at paragraph-length in front of brick walls. Which would still be more interesting, visually, than the old Green Hornet series, which was a bigger teast than Lana Lang is on Smallville. It got you expecting action! and excitement! with that incredible theme music, and then showed you half an hour of middle-aged men in suits and car chases at 20 mph and Kato did all the real work, anyway.

Well, this strategy worked wonders for Paul Simon in 1988, Howard:

Howard Dean returned home to Burlington, Vermont, early on Wednesday carrying a decision to quit his presidential campaign but remain in the race for the nomination, the Los Angeles Times reported in Wednesday's editions.

"Though Dean is not going to formally drop out of the race, he is going to stop campaigning," a Dean aide told the newspaper.

"The move would allow his supporters to continue to vote for him in the upcoming primaries and have a say at the Democratic National Convention in July," The Times reported.

Link via Drudge.

Here's an extremely uninformative, teaser interview with Joss Whedon and John Cassaday about their upcoming run on a new X-Men comic.

And here's a deranged thread from John Byrne's message board in which a bunch of people get really, reall mad over Whedon doing an X-book.

In my e-mail today, I've got messages from "Sexy People," "25K Grant," "Cash," "Cigarettes," "Bigger Breasts," and "No Debt. Sure, they e-mail, but they never come by the house. Stupid fair-weather friends.

After watching fifteen hallucinogenic minutes of HR Pufnstuff and Land of the Lost on TV Land last night, I can authoritatively say that the Lord of the Rings movies would have been vastly more entertaining if Sid and Marty Krofft had made them. Sigh...I guess it just wasn't meant to be.

Neil Gaiman vs. the Gelatinous Cube

Yesterday afternoon we went to see Neil Gaiman be interviewed at the Fitzgerald Theatre in St. Paul as part of MPR's "Talking Volumes" series. Gaiman was his usual self --witty, insightful, surprising, in short, the perfect person to see asked questions about his craft. Even the insipid, lame-ass questions the MPR person was asking her.

There were only two things detracting from the experience. One was the air of MPR smugness that overhung the entire event. Before things got started an MPR apparatchik came onstage and, looking over her glasses at us, thanked us for coming out to an event about books, when we could be home watching the television or going out to a movie! Because, of course, People Like Us Who Read Books don't pollute our brains with the sorts of things commoners amuse themselves with. I continue to marvel at the ability of Minnesota Liberals to make my skin crawl even when I'm otherwise inclined to agree with them.

The other was the gelatinous cube who sat next to me throughout the event. I refer to her by the name of the freakiest D&D monster of them all not because of her size, which was ample, but because of her monstrous ability to ooze into every possible micrometer of space that came to exist between us throughout the event. Look: I know theatre seating is narrow and uncomfortable and there's sure to be a bit of touching. I understand that. But for God's sake, learn to, you know, get something out of your purse without splaying your legs to their maximal if limited capacity. Learn to, say, cross your arms once in a while to get your forearms out of the way. Don't repeatedly shove your hamlike upper arms into the person sitting nest to you. What was most annoying is that her companion, whom one might describe as Jack Sprat-like, sat on the aisle seat next to her. Yo, Cube! Maybe you should try sitting on the aisle once in a while, and they way the only person you're touching is the guy with whom you're going to spend the event engaging in sensual -- and I sensual, I mean grosser and more unnecessary than hands-in-each-other's-back-pockets goth couple wannabes at the Mall of America -- hand-holding activities the whole god-damned time, anyway. Do what you want with your cream-cheese filled fingers, lady, just do it in the dark and away from other people, 'kay?

And I haven't even gotten to the audio portion of the gelatinous cube's performance.

She brayed. Last month I had occasion to describe a guest at the potluck from hell as a braying ass. I was wrong. This woman brayed throughout the talk. Every time Gaiman said anything mildly amusing, she couldn't just laugh -- she let out these piercing, shrill bleats of something that an alien might consider laughter. Sort of a "NYEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE HEE HEE HEEEEEEEEE HHEEEEEEEEE!" sound. Perhaps she's related to Howard Dean. But remember that Gaiman is an incredibly funny person, and then imagine that sound going off right next to your right ear three or four times a minute for over an hour, and you'll understand that I really, really respect Neil Gaiman, becase at no point did I turn to the gelatinous cube and tell her to SHUT THE FUCK UP SO I COULD HEAR THE GODDAMNED PERSON I PAID TEN BUCKS AND JOINED MPR TO HEAR.

The worst parts came whenever Neil talked about the creative process itself, because she turned the volume up to eleven and added hand-clapping and nodding to the performance -- and that's what it was, a performance to show everyone else just how smart and witty she herself was for finding the smart and witty writer so smart and witty. No doubt the gelatinous cube fancies herself an pan-media artist, writing sonnets about flowers in glue and glitter on black velvet, stalking the aisles of Michael's looking for sales, writing fan fiction in which she's the fourth Charmed sister and they go through the Stargate and meet Richard Dean Anderson and the power of her love and creativity turns the casts of both shows into ocelots and they all have sex with her.

Let me put it this way: It was so bad, that after fifteen minutes or so, the small children sitting in front of us turned and stared at the gelatinous cube every time this happened, and the children's faces appeared to say, "Gee, Mommy explained to me how to behave at the theatre. I wonder why no one ever explained it to that lady? And how come the lady looks like a gelatinous cube?"

I'm just sayin', here, is all.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!

A statement from The WB:
For the last seven years Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer have been cornerstones of our network. The sum total of the work done on those shows has produced some of the proudest moments in our history. Like some of the great series that are leaving the air this year, including Frasier and Friends, the cast, crew, writers and producers of Angel deserve to be able to wrap up the series in a way befitting a classic television series and that is why we went to Joss to let him know that this would be the last year of the series on The WB. We have discussed continuing the Angel legacy with special movie events next year, which is still on the table. In a perfect world, all of these details would be completed before this information went to the press so that we could be definitive about the show's ongoing future. But in any case, we did not want to contemplate this being the last year of Angel without giving the show the option of crafting their own destiny for this character and for this series. David Boreanaz continues to be one of the finest, classiest and friendliest actors we have had the pleasure to work with and we hope that the relationship furthers from here. The same can be said for all the actors and producers on the show.

Is this what Doug Shaftoe meant by "displaying adaptability"?

According to the Israeli daily Maariv, Israeli police have a bizarre new way of preventing suicide bombings.

The police are going to begin implementing their plan to hang bags of swine fat in buses and other public places, in the hope it will deter suicide bombers from entering them...The suggestion is based on the fact that Islam, like Judaism, regards the pig as an unclean animal. Strict Moslem tradition holds that any Moslem who touches a pig before dying will be denied access to heaven.
What about those observant Jews within proximity of bags, won’t they be offended? Apparently not, because a rabbinical permit has been issued endorsing the measure. Rabbi Eliezer Moshe Fisher of the Jerusalem Rabbinical Court warned:

[I]f the police do not use pig fat in buses, tens of thousands of ultra-Orthodox Jews will arm themselves with spray guns filled with liquid lard, which they will spray on terrorists whenever the need arises.
No doubt the suicide bombers will be able to elicit fatwas, or religious decrees, of their own permitting them to carry out the bombings, despite the presence of the bags.

This just in: NYPD Blue is still on.

This is not what I wanted to see when I logged on this morning after being without Internet access all weekend:

Comics writer Mark Evanier has reported the unfortunate news that comics legend Julius Schwartz died this morning at Winthrop Hospital in New York City at 2:30 AM. He was 89.

Schwartz was a pioneer of the Silver Age of comics, joining DC and immediately having an effect on the publications of that company. The majority consensus agrees that the Golden Age of Comics gave way to the Silver Age of Comics with the publication of DC's "Showcase" #4 in 1956 when DC revived the Flash. The job of editing the title fell to Schwartz and the changes to the Flash were guided by him. The response was so positive that the character was brought back in future issues of the anthology and the character was ultimately awarded his own series in 1959. The impact of this book changed the landscape of super hero comics forever. To this day he is considered one of comics' greatest editors.

Mark Evanier has plenty of reminisces about Schwartz at his web site; just go here and keep scrolling down.

I was lucky enough to meet Julie at a small, local con in 1988; he and Curt Swan were special guests and each one signed my copy of The Greatest Superman Stories Ever Told, the first hardcover comic collection I ever bought. I think it cost the princely sum of $16. Both Swan and Schwartz are gone now. Dammit.

I'm hoping DC will do a tribute book entitled "Strange Schwartz Stories." The kickoff should be 1985's surprise birthday issue of Superman, which you can read here.

Monitor Duty has this to say about the eventual Lord of the Rings DVD boxed sets:

Box sets? Can there really be anyone who loved these movies who hasn't bought them already?

Considering that the hard-core "LOTR-is-the-best-movie-ever" crowd has been gleefully buying two versions of each movie on DVD, one with the theatrical cut and one with the super-terrific-happy-special edition, with full knowledge in buying the first that the second will be out in just a few months, why wouldn't the studio expect that the lemmings will line up for a boxed set as well? Just throw in ultra-super-terrific-happy extras and outtakes and they'll fall all over themselves to buy it.

What's sad is the eager willingness of these folks to fork over their money for these things with nary a complaint. If George Lucas were to try the same nonsense with the original Star Wars movies, Skywalker Ranch would be burned to the ground with torches. The fans would still buy every version, of course, but at least they'd have the good sense to grumble about it, for God's sake.

If the casting news is any indication, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy movie might not suck:

Sam Rockwell, star of CONFESSIONS OF A DANGEROUS MIND and known to science fiction fans as Guy the security guy in GALAXY QUEST, will be sipping Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters shortly because the actor has been cast as Zaphod Beeblebrox in the HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY movie. The two-headed President of the Galaxy is one of the two that pick up the last Earthman, Arthur Dent, and his companion Ford Prefect after the Earth has been destroyed by the Vogon contruction force. Martin Freeman, Mos Des and Zooey Deschanel have already been cast as Arthur, Ford and Trillian, respectively, in the film.

Sam Rockwell, of course, kicks ass like a great giant ass-kicking thing that kicks asses. I've been willing to watch him in just about anything ever since I saw him doing an interview for Galaxy Quest in which it became quickly apparent that he had constructed an elaborate backstory for his character, who was, really, not much more than a bit part. If I ever get around to picking up Confessions of a Dangerous Mind on DVD, I'll make a point of watching his screen test for the role of Chuck Barris.

I am 42.80079% - Major Geek.

And for political entertainment of a more rousing sort than that mentioned in my previous entry, Bob Dornan is running for Congress again. Boo-ya!

Make sure to read the comments so you don't miss this:

That interview was almost as weird as the time I turned on Mystery Science Theater 3000 and realized that Bob Dornan was the star of the movie they were watching.

Posted by: Chris Puzak on February 4, 2004 02:27 PM

If you have a perverse desire to watch a bunch of people shouting at each other like total asshats, go read this thread at Peter David's message board/blog. I swear to Jebus, nearly every person who's taken part in this thing needs to be fitted with protective, padded headgear lest they give themselves brain damage.

Peter David's a hell of a good writer of comics and fantasy and Star Trek novels. And as a political commentator, he's a hell of a good writer of comics and fantasy and Star Trek novels.

I've been thinking about this for a while, and I think each of the major Democratic candidates can be mapped onto a character from King of the Hill.

John Kerry is Hank, the solid, reliable, dependable guy. Howard Dean is Khan, the screaming lunatic neighbor. Joe Lieberman is Bill Dauterive, the lovable loser down the block. John Edwards is Boomhauer, the slick good-lookin' feller with the accent. And Wesley Clark is Dale Gribble, the paranoid conspiracy theorist next door.

Look, it's about as solid as most political analysis you'll find on the Internet.

HDTV versus porn:

If HDTV is sharp enough to reveal a G-rated entertainer's humanity, the technology's harsh gaze must be all the worse for those who make their livings in the nude. So when DirecTV announced last week that it would be broadcasting pay-per-view adult movies in HDTV, starting last night after the Super Bowl, one had to wonder whether the company's decision-makers actually bothered to watch some samples. A big part of the allure of porn—at least the relatively highbrow variety that DirecTV shows—is that the participants appear to share few of our species' physical foibles, thanks to clever lighting, makeup, and surgery. Your spouse may suffer from a dearth of gym time or the occasional bout of acne, but Kobe Tai's on-screen personas are always in tip-top shape.

...
Of course, as long as they've got some bedroom skills, adult performers needn't be absolute world-beaters in the looks department, so they tend to be a lot less lovely than your average Hollywood star. In addition, they end up revealing a lot more nooks and crannies than their mainstream peers, which means many more physical flaws can wind up on-screen. That's no big deal for peddlers of lowbrow or amateur smut, in which bad bodies are the norm. But keep in mind that DirecTV will be broadcasting films from two sources, Playboy and the Spice Channel, both of which pride themselves on being vendors of classy porn. The action on Spice is tame compared to what you might find at the local XXX store, and the stars typically sport toned, pneumatic bodies without visible shortcomings. If Cameron Diaz's otherworldly reputation can't survive HDTV intact, what chance does the Spice Channel's talent have? And will HDTV customers readily fork over $14.99 per three-hour movie block once they realize that the naughty sorority sister their order conjures up has amateurish implants, and the lucky TV repairman's skin redefines the word "leathery"?

There's a long article at the Washington Post about Mickey Dolenz, his work on Broadway in the musical Aida, his thoughts on the Monkees from a few decades out, and other stuff, but this bit is what jumped out at me:

"The Monkees really becoming a band was like the equivalent of Leonard Nimoy really becoming a Vulcan," Dolenz says. "It was that weird. Mike used to say it was like Pinocchio really becoming a little boy. We transcended the imaginary and became this supergroup."