12 October 2010

She keeps her Moet Et Chandon in a pretty cabinet; "Let them eat cake," she says, just like the Notes From The News

Hello hello! Good to be back! Sorry to have left you hanging yesterday, but a bit of a bug laid me up and kept me from doing my bloggerly duties. But I'm feeling better today, and am ready to get back to the grind. I'd also like to take a second or three to welcome some new readers who have wandered this way from Blip.fm; glad to have you here, sorry I suck at moderating and publishing comments. I'm a bad person. But you knew that. And now, the news!


And lo, the seventh seal was opened, dept.: Because Marmaduke was just the most awesome thing that ever awesomed an awesome (he said, his voice dripping sarcasm like sap from a Vermont maple), the studios are all scrambling for the next desperately unfunny film comedy with which to make our nation's eyes bleed and our spirits despair and dissolve in the vitriol of middle of the road pablum mixed with fart jokes. And we have the winner: The best, the ultimate, the ne plus ultra bull moose make you want to kill yourself with a thousand toothpicks to the eyes winner. 20th Century Fox and Walden Media have acquired the rights to . . . dare I say? (Dare! Dare!) The Family Circus. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to leave a long circuitous dotted-line trail on my way to the bathroom so I can vom.


Caitlin Sanchez, the 14 year old actress who performed Dora the Explorer's voice between 2008 and 2010 is suing Nickelodeon for unpaid fees due from Reruns, DVD sales, and promotional work. Nickelodeon calls the suit baseless and says they have negotiated a more than fair deal through her agent. Caitlin cries bullshit (or would if she were old enough to use the swears) and says in her suit that she was given 22 minutes to sign a deal with no attorney present, and that she is owed "many million dollars" -- many million being the figure that comes directly after umpty-leven but before eleventy-threeve. Good luck, kid.  


io9 thinks it knows who the villain may be in the next Batman movie, based on a lot of speculation that is, well, baseless, and on the tweets of comic scribe Mark Millar, whose information is, well, not always that reliable. Sure is fun to speculate about, though. It's so speculative!


The entire internet is abuzz about "street artist" and endless self-promoter Banksy's extended opening sequence for The Simpsons the other night, which you can see in the link here if you're one of the three people who hasn't seen it already. The amusing thing to me is that the media is pretending to find this all controversial and outrageable and depressing, when really it's just a typically Banksy-ian statement about the disconnect between western and eastern cultures and how we here in the west don't care how what we get is made so long as we can get it, filtered through The Simpsons sensibility. It was meant to be risible and provocative. Honestly folks, it's fucking Banksy. What did you expect?  And actually, the fact that people's sensibilities were so upended by this is, if anything, a sign of how unbelievably tame and non-provocative The Simpsons has become. 


I can has euthanasia now please, dept.: The kid from Two and a Half Men is making $300,000 an episode now. This makes him the highest-paid child actor in Hollywood. This makes me 400% more likely to never turn on a TV set again so long as I have breath in my body and scotch in my veins. 


Ohhhhhhh SNAP, dept.: Damon Albarn essentially just told Glee to go fuck itself. They can't have any Gorillaz music, because their slicked up versions are a "poor substitute for the real thing." And as the A. V. Club's Sean O'Neal so rightly notes in the linked article, "When the leader of a cartoon band that originated as a commentary on the substance-free superficiality of popular music essentially calls you a bunch of flash-in-the-pan fakes, somehow it hurts a little more."


Wow: the Spider-Man reboot is becoming ever the more intriguing with the casting decisions. First we got  Andrew Garfield as Peter/Spidey, then they switched us up and cast Emma Stone as Gwen Stacey (and not Mary Jane Watson as everyone in the industry first suspected), and now they've cast the villain for the piece. The identity of the villain is being kept under wraps because durr hey, but we know who the actor is and . . . wow. Rhys Ifans. Seriously. This is so very out of left field and it has every likelihood of not working, but if it does work it would be utterly fucking marvelous. Somewhere, Sam Raimi is biting his nails and wondering just what in the hell went wrong. 


Seriously, just fucking kill me now, dept.: Fran Drescher, the woman with the most annoying nails-on-a-chalkboard-while-playing-a-musical-saw voice in the universe, is getting a talk show. Doesn't this qualify as cruel and unusual punishment under the Constitution? 


Today in who gives a fuck: Stieg Larsson wrote a fourth book (which is actually the fifth book) in the MIllennium series and you'll never be able to read it you poor Swede-hungry slob you; Fox ordered six episodes of a Napoleon Dynamite animated series in a laughable and fruitless attempt to wrest its Sunday nights away from Seth MacFarlane's iron-fisted fascism of suck; and Carrie Fisher tells us the planet of Hoth was made entirely of her cocaine boogers. 


Pop Quiz, hotshot: say you're a director looking to extend a valuable franchise like, say the Jason Bourne movies in the wake of Paul Greengrass' departure. Do you: A) hire the best writers around and convince skittish star Matt Damon to sign on in spite of his reluctance to work with anyone but Greengrass, B) accept the fact that Damon won't be back without Greengrass and recast the role, hoping audiences will come to see the show anyway as long as you can make it good, or c) pen the sequel yourself and write out the character of Jason Bourne entirely, using new characters that have no relation to anything in the previous three movies? If you answered C, then your name is Tony Gilroy and you are a monumental weeblely twat. 


And that's the news. And now: DIABOLIK!




. . . man's just made of road rage, isn't he. 


Later! 

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