Guess Who's Going to Bed?

Nobody tells Sidney Poitier when to go to bed

In honor of Elizabeth Taylor's death today yesterday, I dampened my cheeks to the stylings of Katharine Hepburn in Guess Who's Coming to Dinner.

The movie was enjoyable and I even laughed out loud a few times, which is rare (ask my biographers that follow me everywhere and never have a good tip on a horse). Sidney Poitier was dashing, aggressive, and effective. Katharine Hepburn killed several monologues and the rookie from Connecticut, Katharine Houghton (Hepburn's niece, whom you might remember from her recent performance as Katara's Grandma in The Last Airbender), was the one who made me laugh the most.

Spencer Tracy, on the other hand, reminded me way too much of Robert DeNiro in a comedy, which is a polite way of saying he turned in a poor performance, but unfortunately one not as poor as those of Scott Baio in Arrested Development, which are so poor they come back around again to be funny and are therefore unique and redemptive.

'Maggie the Cat' indeed

If only Most Hideous Man Alive® Bruce Vilanch hadn't stolen my copy of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof I might have cut a more respectable figure this evening as four of the world's leading massage therapists worked me over in the screening lounge aboard my jet and my biographers scribbled wildly. Blaming him for everything that went wrong is so fun these days, especially when the accusations are true.

As it was, the only movie of Ms. Taylor's I had lying around was Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and even though she knocks that role right out of the galaxy it isn't exactly how anyone would like her to be remembered.

In your honor, Liz, I am going to bed with this image on my brain instead:

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Snapshot of America: March 2, 2011

The most popular stories on the New York Daily News site. Read 'em and weep, America...

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It's March 1st--Do You Know Where Your D-List Load-Dropper Is?

For those of you who mopes out there who don't know what it means when people call you a mope, here is a fascinating education, courtesy of the LA Weekly:

The porn industry is many things. Subtle is not one of them. So when Porn Inc. went searching for a job title for people like Stephen Hill, the choice was "mope." It's based on the off-camera life of these fringe actors, hangers-on who mope around the studios hoping for a bit role, which if they're lucky might bring them $50 plus food — and the chance to have sex with a real, live woman.

The average rate for a mope is $50 a movie, $75 if the porno gods are feeling benevolent. So financially, mopehood is a losing proposition in an industry where just getting the HIV testing required to work costs $135.

"They're worthless, D-list load-droppers," says Jim Lane, also known as Jim Powers, the director of such fare as Young and Anal 39, Ganged and Banged and White Trash Whore 40.

Unlike mainstream Hollywood extras, Lane notes, "Mopes don't know they're mopes." Instead, most cling to a delusion. "They all think they're going to be stars and millionaires."

Mark Kulkis, the head of Kick-Ass Pictures, a company that specializes in specific niche porn such as foot-fetish and gangbang material, says, "We pay $50 for a foot job. And we shoot one a week for the site. There are only so many of those gigs to go around. These guys are hanging on the edge economically."

Hill, whose screen name was Steve Driver, used to say his signature was "monster hands." According to set photographer Gia Jordan, Hill "would wear these hands, like, from a Halloween costume. That was his shtick. He'd jack off on the girl with the hands and when he'd come he'd yell, 'Monster hands!' It was ridiculous."

Wow. Okay. The only thing I would argue there is that mainstream Hollywood extras lack delusions of grandeur, which anybody who has spent any time with extras knows is patently untrue. 95% of extras expect to be millionaire actors, whether those millions come from 15 years of nationwide Verizon commercials, a role on CSI, or the fat paychecks commanded by an A or B-list movie actor they are expecting it one way or another--IF THEY CAN JUST MAKE THE RIGHT CONNECTIONS.

It's good to know foot-job dicks can be rented for only fifty dollars. This is knowledge that's good to have up your sleeve when you run out of other options. It also helps explain how homeless men in the Valley get all their booze money and how male Hollywood extras are able to stretch out their paltry paychecks during lean times.

But just so you know, not all D-List Load-Droppers go quietly into the night, clutching a bottle of Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill, and stretch out on a piece of cardboard along the cement-lined Los Angeles River, never to make a name for themselves.

Todd was a pioneer among the D-List Load-Droppers

Take Stephen Hill (aka Steve Driver), for example, who was mentioned above--the lovable "Monster Hands" dude. Now here is a guy who moped his way to infamy in style.

Check it:

Female porn actor Charley Chase recalls, "I only worked with [Hill] once. It was a boy-girl scene and it was terrible. Mainly from bad hygiene."

Christian Bale Reacts to the Charlie Sheen Situation

"You think you're a fucking badass, Charlie? You're a small-screen trained monkey whose audience is far from discerning. They're gonna replace you with John Stamos, for Pete's sake. I'm Batman, Patrick Bateman, John Rolfe, John Connor, and a boxer from Boston.

"I grew up in Wales and even though you're nine years older than me I was chewing kids' ears off in the park for no reason at all ever since you were in short pants. I beat-up every single person I see, just so they know not to fuck with me. Your Dad is Martin Sheen and mine was a pilot (who later married Gloria Steinem). My Mom was a circus performer. I had to be exponentially more crazy than you could ever imagine in order to escape my humble beginnings and beat you out for all the good roles and all the good girls (the kind you don't have to pay for).

"I think we all know it's been a long time since Platoon + Men at Work, but still you were the highest-paid actor in television history until the other day and I guess that is a commendable accomplishment for somebody in your field. It takes dedication to put up with the grueling schedule of a television show. I know I would never want to do it, that's for sure. I prefer to do my work in intense chunks, in exotic locations, and then take several months off to drink vintage wine and fornicate with native women on a white-sand beach somewhere warm while the footage is edited in preparation for a lavish premiere and I marinate in Cuban rum, fresh pineapple, and rare orchids.

"But I no longer need to fake my respect for your humble dedication because you were fired by your boss--an ugly guy who made even more money than you, had more than enough of your annoying bullshit, and put you in your place on the world stage.

"How does a man respond to this? There isn't one good answer, granted, but surely none of the answers are 'doing the talk show bitch circuit and proclaiming yourself a warlock who's "tired of pretending like [he's] not bitchin."'

"Boy, that must be fun. Can't wait to watch you get shot-down by Barbara Walters on The View before your on-air pedicure even begins to dry.

"Oh! You think you got a comeback for that one? You don't. You never will. You're a puff pastry at heart. You'll never have the fire your dad has and it kills you. Even with a full arsenal of Hollywood stylists at your disposal you look about as bad-ass as an Olsen twin. Proof:

"In conclusion, shut up and go to bed, Charlie Sheen. You're wearing out the world's patience. You're tired. You're broke in every manner of speaking other than financially. Make sure you get a good long sleep by finishing the entire bottle of pills and I promise everything will be better in the morning. The whole world will be a safer, happier place for everyone--especially those closest to you--and it will help set-up another Oscar win for my 'vicious,' 'lifelike' portrayal of you in the made-for-TV movie of your pitiful life."

- Christian Bale

[Disclaimer: Nothing in this post was written or spoken by Christian Bale although he may have thought it at some point and nobody can prove he didn't. -Ed.]

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An Open Letter to Teenagers Everywhere

Kids today really need to get tougher skins or they'll all be dead in five years and the world as we know it will slowly draw to a close, Children of Men-style.

A 14 year-old girl hangs herself because the friends of her alleged rapist were tormenting her?
Numerous high-school kids killing themselves because kids make fun of their sexuality?
Kids so afraid to go to school because they are getting bullied that they drop out, go into highly-medicated therapy, get even more depressed, and kill themselves later?

I love to break it to you, kids, but this shit has been going on since the dawn of human society. Deal with it, just like everybody has done for millennia. You are not special, this is not a new and more potent form of torture that the human psyche is unable to withstand.

You think it's awful that people make fun of you in the school cafeteria? That you get text messages that say "Suck my dick, faggot!" or "U R a lesbo LOL!"? That mean people write mean things on your Facebook page that you can immediately delete? Oh, no! Your life is so unimaginably difficult--nobody else could possibly understand because cell phones and Facebook and fags weren't around when they were kids!

Return to Serfdom

How do you know your job sucks? When they attach semi-permanent suicide nets to your employee housing:

Foxconn Technology Group — the Taiwanese company that manufactures hardware for Apple, Dell, HP, Nokia and Sony and has been hit by a dozen suicides at its plants this year — is holding rallies at all of its factories to raise morale. The theme? “Treasure Your Life, Love Your Family, Care for Each Other to Build a Wonderful Future.” The impact so far? Check out the picture above.

In case the rallies, slogans and pay increases don’t raise morale enough to stem the tide of suicides, Foxconn left suicide nets in place at its facilities that are designed to catch workers before they hit the ground, although it removed them from one facility.
"No matter how hard we try, such things will continue to happen,” is how Louis Woo, assistant to the founder of Foxconn’s parent company Hon Hai Precision Industry explained the situation at its factories, in a statement.

After the rallies, Foxconn left them up at all of its factories except for its Taiyuan Campus location, said Woo in his phone statement, because more employees there have the support of their friends and family. The nets remain in place at the other facilities.

(courtesy Wired)

Strange that an employee workforce of 470,000 people [Literally! -Ed.] living in dormitories on the same campus would not make some friends to build support networks.

Or maybe when they try the prison guards dump barrels of hot oil on them and stretch them on one of the racks in the mess hall?

If there was ever a more direct modern parallel to medieval serfdom, I don't know I don't what that would be...

Long live King Woo, Lord of Foxconn Castle, loyal subject of King American Corporations!

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Message Received

This just in from the Mexican front, via Huffington Post:

Violence peaked in Tijuana in 2008 amid a showdown between two crime bosses – Fernando "The Engineer" Sanchez Arellano and Teodoro "El Teo" Garcia Simental, a renegade lieutenant who rose through the ranks by dissolving bodies in vats of lye.

Garcia was arrested last January. While killings have continued, the most gruesome displays of cartel violence – decapitations, hangings and daylight shootouts – subsided.

Last week, in the wake of Calderon's visit, several bodies were found beheaded and hanging from bridges in Tijuana, leading to fears that the cartels were resuming brutal tactics to send a message that the government is not in control.

Vats of lye? Ohhhhhhkay. Huh. Considering all this new shit comes in the wake of that rural mayor getting stoned to death in the back of a pick-up truck and the following certified-nutso statistics, I find little reason not to believe them:

Upon taking office in December 2006, President Felipe Calderon deployed tens of thousands of troops and federal police to fight drug cartels in their strongholds. An unprecedented 28,000 people have been killed in drug gang violence since.

Ciudad Juarez has become one of the world's deadliest cities amid a turf war between the Sinaloa and Juarez drug cartels. More than 2,000 people have been killed this year in the city, which is across the border from El Paso, Texas.

Oh, Mexico...I love you but you're bringing me down.

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For Your Consideration:

The Last Two Feet are the Hardest

Tales from the Front:

BAKERSFIELD, Calif. -- A doctor involved in an "on-again, off-again" relationship apparently tried to force her way into her boyfriend's home by sliding down the chimney, police said Tuesday. Her decomposing body was found there three days later.

Dr. Jacquelyn Kotarac, 49, first tried to get into the house with a shovel, then climbed a ladder to the roof last Wednesday night, removed the chimney cap and slid feet first down the flue, Bakersfield police Sgt. Mary DeGeare said.

Dr. Jacquelyn Kotarac, 49, first tried to get into the house with a shovel, then climbed a ladder to the roof last Wednesday night, removed the chimney cap and slid feet first down the flue, Bakersfield police Sgt. Mary DeGeare said.

While she was trying to break in, the man she was pursuing escaped unnoticed from another exit "to avoid a confrontation," authorities said.

DeGeare said the two were in an "on-again, off-again" relationship.

The man's identity was not revealed by police, but the man who resides in the home is William Moodie, 58.

Moodie, who runs an engineering consulting firm, said Kotarac was a superb internist who often provided service and medication free of charge to her patients.

Kotarac apparently died in the chimney, but her body was not discovered until a house-sitter noticed a stench and fluids coming from the fireplace Saturday, according to a police statement. The house-sitter and her son investigated with a flashlight and found Kotarac dead, wedged about two feet above the top of the interior fireplace opening.

Firefighters spent five hours late Saturday dismantling the chimney and flue from outside the home to extract Kotarac's body, DeGeare said.

Officials said Kotarac's office staff reported her missing two days prior when she failed to show for work. Her car and belongings remained near the man's house.

A cause of death has not been determined, and an autopsy was scheduled or Tuesday. Foul play is not suspected, though investigators have been looking into the incident as suspicious.

(courtesy Huffington Post) 

Let me get this straight--a man hears his girlfriend trying to get into his house by crawling down the chimney, leaves for three days--in order "to avoid a confrontation," and hires a housesitter (over the phone?) who eventually smells something funny / sees stuff dripping into the fireplace?

What sort of person's first two choices for forced entry into a residence are a shovel and the chimney? Was this Moody guy holed up in some kind of impenetrable fortress? Were there not windows that could have been broken? I mean, the houses in Bakersfield were not exactly built to last...

And where did this guy go all of a sudden, anyway? Was he across town, in bed with some other broad, making this poor sap the laughing-stock of the community, as she breathes her last breath in his chimney--no doubt immediately post-vow to haunt him for eternity?

Probably.

Also, why does it matter that the woman was a doctor? If she were a garbagewoman [Do those even exist? Why are women not forced to represent 50% of the garbage collectors? -Ed], would this article have read "Garbagewoman Dies in Chimney Trying to Break into Boyfriend's Home?"

I think not. You see, we expect that kind of behavior from garbagewomen--when doctors do it, it's newsworthy. It sells papers.

"A doctor did it? Hmmm...well, there must be some kind of juicy story behind this...doctors are usually so put-together and never have to worry about money...oh, look, it says here she was a 'superb internist'..."

-Woman reading aloud to her cat while eating her third bowl of Kix

Meanwhile, the carcasses of her last twelve cats decompose in the nearby chimney, totally unnoticed by the world until Hoarders comes through and turns that ole garbagewoman's life right-side-up in thirty minutes of too-hot-for-TV, soul-crushing depression and feigned re-birth.

Don't miss it!

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Senator Palpatine Living in New Jersey

86-years-young Senator Frank Lautenberg (D-NJ), aka Darth Sidious

Sure, he may look bone-chillingly evil, but Senator Frank Lautenberg is actually pretty liberal.

He supports the gays, the women, the poor, the sick...WTF, right? Is the Dark Side in the throes of some generations-long, total-mind-fuck takeover scheme that will crush our spirit forever?

Probably. They've always been more cunning than the good guys...

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It is the end of August and I feel thirsty.

So, apparently, does the mewling alleycat outside my window, but unfortunately for me, my thirst is not so easily slaked.

No passing stranger of the opposite sex can solve my hydration problem, even if they wanted to, but here this greedy cat will take all comers and get as much as she wants.

Or maybe my perspective is wrong.

Maybe satisfaction looms in the distance, tantalizingly on her radar but frustratingly never within reach. Maybe she is a tormented soul whose thirst, like mine, is bottomless. Maybe we are two of a kind.

Much like the insatiable central characters in the 1976 Japanese arthouse porno, In the Realm of the Senses, which I watched this evening in (mostly) wide-eyed surprise.

Never in my life have I seen so much penis--and I own one.

Never in my life have I seen two people engage in so much public fornication, to such blase reaction. To say the sex is gratuitous misses the point, but still--it is exhausting to watch.

Here is what Mr. Criterion has to say about the movie, for all you bumpkins out there that ain't never heard of it:

SYNOPSIS: Still censored in its own country, In the Realm of the Senses (Ai no corrida), by Japanese director Nagisa Oshima, remains one of the most controversial films of all time. A graphic portrayal of insatiable sexual desire, Oshima’s film, set in 1936 and based on a true incident, depicts a man and a woman (Tatsuya Fuji and Eiko Matsuda) consumed by a transcendent, destructive love while living in an era of ever escalating imperialism and governmental control. Less a work of pornography than of politics, In the Realm of the Senses is a brave, taboo-breaking milestone.
SYNOPSIS: WARNING: THIS FILM IS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT

I wish I could agree with their pornography versus politics angle, but there was so little politics involved in this movie that I was bored stiff. Imagine saying that! I wanted more politics!

What exactly...were the politics? I saw some soldiers march past in one scene, but who knows what that's supposed to mean. What I do know is that the entire movie involves a former prostitute fellating, ravaging, and beating/strangling her master-cum-husband, whom she rapidly turns into her willing sex slave.

I'll put it this way--there is a good reason the narrator feels the need, at movie's end, to reveal the events took place in 1936, because any other movie that took place in Japan in 1936 and even hinted at politics would have found that designation superfluous.

Game, set, match. Verdict: Porno. Sorry Criterion--there was no need to salvage this one.

That being said, if you are in for an initially titillating movie that ultimately makes you never want to have sex again, this 'masterpiece' is for you. Enjoy!

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Finally, a Pop Singer Takes Responsibility

The douchebag in the middle--Charles Haddon, lead singer of legendarily obscure British pop band Ou Est Le Swimming Pool, which just rolls off your tongue--climbed a telecommunications tower in Belgium yesterday and jumped to his death. Immediately following a performance at a music festival with a funny name, which, when translated, means "PimplePop."

What gives, right? After only three singles, OELSP's transgressions against humanity's ears/minds had already reached a tipping point?

I can only assume so, since only forty people have ever heard any of their music. And two of them are now dead.

Ou Est Le Swimming Pool's first album--Christ Died for Our Synths (how's that for agonizing guilt?)--is scheduled for an October release.

The real question, though, is whether or not Christ will finally forgive the band for their synths and move on, stop torturing all mortals by lording his own death over millions of guilt-ridden believers.

Something tells me that won't happen, but I'll keep my finger on the pulse for ya.

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Heidi Montag Knows Hyperbole

She may not know what the word means, but Heidi Montag should receive a Celebrity Merit Badge for Hyperbole.

First, her freaky, hyperbolically-curvy, wax-figurine body, courtesy of plastic surgeon Frank Ryan:

Second, the Team Heidi-approved Twitters after said plastic surgeon drove his Jeep off a cliff along the Pacific Coast Highway and died:

I am devastated to hear the news of Dr. Frank Ryan's death. He was the most amazing person I have ever known. He was an angel and changed my life and the lives of everyone he met. He was the most brilliant talented surgeon who will ever exist. Dr. Frank Ryan changed the world.

My thoughts and prayers go out to his mother, family, friends, and anyone who was ever blessed enough to meet him. He is in a better place.

(Courtesy Huffington Post)

"The most brilliant surgeon who will ever exist," who "changed the lives of everyone he met?"

Yeah, right. I believe that almost as much as I believe Heidi has the capacity to be "devastated" by anything, or that Dr. Moron "is in a better place"--he's in Hell, baby! Yeah!

Which, for the record, is much worse than being paid millions of dollars for totally unnecessary surgical procedures and then using the money to cavort around Southern California changing people's lives for the worse, all the while giggling and doing lines of silicone off the dashboard.

I have no evidence to support this claim, but something tells me Dr. Frank may have driven off a cliff because his latest 'perfect' monster (Two heads with six tongues, mounted on a giant breast!) was giving him head and it was so fantastic he just couldn't take it.

Or maybe that's just some hyperbole right there...who's to know?

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Hypocrisy, By the Numbers

All life, even that of unwanted, unborn babies the size of pencil erasers, is important. It is the most important thing in the world. How important?

Way more important than dealing with all the starving/malnutritioned, poorly-educated children all over the country who were born into a life of poverty, crime, and neglect.

So important that right-wing asshole ideologues will kill medical personnel to make sure there isn't any killing going on.

Since 1977, there have been eight confirmed murders of abortion providers or other clinic staff, 41 bombings, 175 arsons and 96 attempted bombings or arsons, according to the National Abortion Federation.

(courtesy HuffPo)

Breaking the law to interfere with legally-sanctioned activities and ignoring all the most important tenets of every major religion, all in the name of hypocrisy. Thanks, Red America.

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Okay, So...These Guys Are Fucked

Something tells me oil doesn't wash out of your stomach very easily, so something (Jeebus?) also tells me these two firemen are sacrificing their lives to try to stop an oil spill caused by the explosion of a pipeline in China.

I'm sure the massive trillion-dollar company in charge of the pipeline greatly appreciates their efforts and will reward their bereaved families with $100 of free gas at the very least and $150 at the very most. The environment thanks them for their heroic efforts, but that has never been a very tangible reward and has certainly never put food in anybody's bellies or cured their cancer.

The pipeline blaze:

Whoa.

Also whoa:

"We don't have proper oil cleanup materials, so our workers are wearing rubber gloves and using chopsticks," an official with the Jinshitan Golden Beach Administration Committee told the Beijing Youth Daily newspaper in apparent exasperation. "This kind of inefficiency means the oil will keep coming to shore. ... This stretch of oil is really difficult to clean up in the short term."

(courtesy HuffPo)

Oh, it's difficult to clean up an oil spill with chopsticks? No shit, asshole. Maybe you and everybody else in town should have thought about that before you let Asia's largest oil company run a pipeline into your bay.

Has there ever been a pipeline that did not leak at some point?

Also, aren't all of the world's plastic shovels and buckets and pasta strainers made in China? Do they really need to resort to chopsticks, or is there some sort of perverted national pride going on here?




[Photos courtesy AP]

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If there was ever a wedding to nuke...

That hearing aid practically gets her off by itself. You should try it sometime.

It was Rush Limbaugh's recent embarrassingly expensive wedding to his fourth wife:

...according to a News Corporation wire report, the Rocket Man, 63, serenaded the 400 guests into the wee hours Saturday night to celebrate the marriage of Limbaugh, 59, to Kathryn Rogers, 33, in the Ponce de Leon ballroom of Florida's fabled Breakers hotel in Palm Beach. Sir Elton's fee: $1 million, the report notes.

Amid dozens of giant bouquets of white roses (and very tight security), reports the Palm Beach Post, guests at the wedding included former Bush adviser Karl Rove; actor-politician Fred Thompson; former Kansas City Royals slugger George Brett; Fox News commentator Sean Hannity; former New York City Mayor Rudolph Giuliani; New England Patriots owner Bob Kraft; former Clinton adviser James Carville and his wife, GOP analyst Mary Matalin; and golfer Tom Watson. A wedding guest also tells PEOPLE that among the others was Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas.

Diggler Lives!

 
BP, eat your heart out--this is the best news story I have seen in a long time (or at least since this gem):

Sword-Wielding Porn Actor Dies After Falling Off Cliff in Standoff

LOS ANGELES (AP) -- A porn actor suspected of killing a colleague with a sword was taken into police custody Saturday after he fell some 40 feet from a rocky hillside from which he had been threatening to jump, officials said.

A "less lethal munition" was used against Stephen Clancy Hill just before his plummet, said police Officer Bruce Borihanh, who had no other details about the weapon that was used.

SWAT officers spent part of Saturday afternoon trying to talk Hill down from the outcropping as he clutched a sword.

It was unknown whether the sword was the murder weapon in Tuesday's deadly attack at a DVD production center that also left two people injured.

Hill fled to the Chatsworth neighborhood hillside after leaving a house where he was barricaded for most of Saturday.

Borihanh said Hill, 34, would be booked on murder and attempted murder charges after he was treated by paramedics. His condition was unknown.

The charges were filed against Hill Friday after Eric Jover, who runs the Ultima DVD production house, offered a $2,000 reward on the company's website for information leading to his arrest.

Hill attacked a colleague with a sword that was used as a film prop during a social gathering at the Ultima's studios about a week after being told he was being fired and that he would have to move out of the production facility, where he had been living, authorities said.

He then turned on two others who rushed to their co-worker's defense. One of those who attempted to help, Herbert Hin Wong, 30, was killed in the attack.

Hill, whose professional name is Steve Driver, fled in an SUV with the murder weapon, authorities said.

Ultima is located in the San Fernando Valley, known in the adult film industry as Porn Valley for its large number of porn businesses. The small company produces niche films featuring fetishes and sexual domination of men.

Hill was convicted of second-degree assault and a handgun charge in March 1999 in Maryland, according to court records.

UPDATE: The LA Times reports that Stephen Hill has died as a result of head injuries suffered from his roughly 50 ft. fall...Developing...

(courtesy Huffington Post)

Wait a minute--he lived at a "DVD production company?"

Dottie popped over for a cup of tea before her big date with Bjorn.

I'm just gonna skip over the fact that this porn actor--who was only involved in fetish and "sexual domination of men" porno, mind you--lived at the studio he also shot porn in because I love how the person who wrote this won't even dignify porn movies with the sobriquet "movie," but rather insists on referring to the company as a "DVD production company."

Harrumph! Nothing those filthy people make would ever be projected in a theatre! They're not movies! They don't even shoot them on film anymore!

I wonder what exactly this swashbuckler did to get fired. Did he lose his six-pack? Forget to shave his chest? Shoot so much heroin into his dick it won't work anymore? Fuck one of the boss' whores?

I also would like to know how this guy is able to travel around LA so freely--he drove from the studio to a house that "he was barricaded for most of Saturday" to another house in Chatsworth --after murdering somebody with a sword in a place of business.

Also, do enough people really frequent the website of this niche porno company to warrant posting a $2000 reward for information leading to arrest? Did it work? Who are these people?

Also also, "less-lethal munition?" They won't admit what it was? Well, here a few guesses:

Acoustic

Acoustic Bullets: High-power, very low-frequency waves emitted from one- to two-meter antenna dishes. Results in blunt-object trauma. Effects range from discomfort to death.

Curdler Unit: A device that is plugged into a sound system to produce a shrill, shrieking, blatting noise. It is used to irritate and disperse rioters and has a decibel range just below that of the danger level to the human ear. It is used in night operations to produce a "voodoo" effect and breaks up chanting, singing, and clapping.

Infrasound: Very low-frequency sound that can travel long distances and easily penetrate most buildings and vehicles. Long-wavelength sound creates biophysical effects: nausea, loss of bowels, disorientation, vomiting, internal-organ damage, or death may occur. By 1972 an infrasound generator had been built in France. When activated it made the people in range sick for hours.

Acoustic & optical

Photic Driver: A crowd-control device that uses ultrasound and flashing infrared lights to penetrate closed human eyelids. Potential for epileptic fits because of the stroboscopic flashing effect.

Psycho-Correction: A technology invented by a Russian scientist that involves influencing subjects visually or aurally with imbedded subliminal messages.

Barrier

Coating, Slick: Teflon-type lubricants that create a slippery surface. In the 1960s the term "Instant Banana Peel" was coined to describe the capability provided by Riotril. When applied to a hard surface and wetted down, this dry, relatively inexpensive white powder becomes ice slick. It becomes virtually impossible for an individual to move or stand up on a hard surface so treated.

Biotechnical

Biodegrading Microbes: Microbes that turn storage tanks full of aviation fuel into useless jelly. Such microbes may produce acids or enzymes that can be tailored to degrade almost anything, even concrete and metal, so their potential use as nonlethal weapons could be extensive.

Genetic Alteration: The act of changing genetic code to create a desired less-than-lethal but long-term disablement effect, perhaps for generations, thereby creating a societal burden.


Neuro-Implant: Computer implants into the brain that allow for behavioral modification and control. Current research is experimental in nature and focuses on lab animals such as mice.


Project Agile: Series of military-science studies in Asia conducted in May 1966 for the Advanced Research Projects Agency. One such study centered on developing "stink" bombs that were race specific.


Pheromones: The chemical substances released by animals to influence physiology or behavior of other members of the same species. One use of pheromones, at the most elemental level, could be to mark target individuals and then release bees to attack them.

Electrical

Police Jacket: Police jacket that jolts anyone who touches it.

Holograms

Prophet: The projection of the image of an ancient god over an enemy capital whose public communications have been seized and used against it in a massive psychological operation.

Soldier Forces: The projection of soldier images that make an opponent think more allied forces exist than actually do, make an opponent believe that allied forces are located in a region where none actually exist, and/or provide false targets for his weapons to fire upon.

Death: Hologram used to scare a target individual to death. Example: a drug lord with a weak heart sees the ghost of his dead rival appearing at his bedside and dies of fright. 

Marker

Invisible: One concept envisions a fluorescent powder sprayed into crowds from a pressurized container. Particles adhere to clothing and are visible only under ultraviolet light. Another concept envisions sponge grenades impregnated with infrared dye so that rioters can be later identified.

Obscurant

Smoke, Colored: Colored-smoke concentrations produce greater initial psychological and panic effect than white smoke. Caucasians are said to have a greater repugnance to brilliant green smoke, whereas Negroids and Latins are declared to be most adversely affected by brilliant red. Rioters confronted with a strong concentration of colored smoke feel, instinctively, that they are being marked, or stained, and therefore lose anonymity.

Riot-control agent

Tear Gas, Invisible: Invisible tear gas cannot be seen by rioters once it emerges from a grenade or mechanical dispenser, and therefore has a greater psychological panic-producing effect than tear smoke.

(Find the rest here. Thanks, Harper's)

It's nice to finally see some of the cutting-edge products our tax dollars have been funding over the years. Good job, scientists!

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'Temple of Doom' in the House, Yo!

This is why this whole MMA fad must be stopped:

Jarrod Wyatt, a 26-year-old mixed martial arts fighter, is accused of brutally murdering his 21-year-old friend, Adam Powell. According to the Times-Standard, prosecutors claim the pair took mushrooms along with two other friends in late March. The paper reports that witnesses say Powell and Wyatt "became preoccupied with the idea that a tidal wave was coming, that the end of the world was upon them and that a struggle between God and the devil was taking place."

When police arrived, they found Wyatt naked and covered in dried blood. According to an officer at the scene, Wyatt admitted to cutting out his victim's tongue and heart. Powell's corpse included an 18-inch incision on his chest, and Wyatt allegedly said he cooked the 21-year-old's heart in a wood stove to "stop the devil."

The accused killer faces murder charges in Del Norte County (Calif.) Superior Court. The Times-Standard has additional details on the charges.

(courtesy Huffington Post)

And so is this: cauliflower ear.

And this: some dude thinking he can replace Mr. T.

In other news, I ate mushrooms all weekend long and giggled a lot as I played rummy with Arthur Killer Kane and little baby Jesus in a giant time-traveling spaceship made out of eggplants and baby food.

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Missing the Boat: By the Numbers

A cell phone company in Bulgaria supposedly suspended (five years ago?) the number 0888 888 888 because the last three people who used it have all died.

Sounds like an eerie coincidence, right? There must be voodoo at work, right?

Well, here is a brief profile of the last three people assigned this mobile number, courtesy of the Telegraph:

1. The first owner Vladimir Grashnov – the former CEO of Bulgarian mobile phone company Mobitel which issued the number – died of cancer in 2001 aged just 48.

2. The number then passed to Bulgarian mafia boss, Konstantin Dimitrov, who was gunned down in 2003 by a lone assassin in the Netherlands during a trip to inspect his £500 million drug smuggling empire. Dimitrov, who died aged 31, had the mobile with him when he was shot while eating out with a model. [You kinda wish 'with' wasn't there, right? Me, too. -Ed.] Russian mafia bosses – jealous of his drug smuggling operation – were said to have been behind the killing.

3. The phone number then passed to Konstantin Dishliev, a crooked businessman, who was gunned down outside an Indian restaurant in Bulgaria's capital Sofia after taking over the jinxed line. Dishliev, an estate agent, had secretly been running a massive cocaine trafficking operation before his assassination in 2005. He died after £130 million of the drug was intercepted by police on its way into the country from Colombia.

Hmm. So...some 48-year-old guy died of cancer...no big deal there...two criminals were shot dead...no big deal there, either...three rich people wanted the only Bulgarian vanity mobile number that consists of the same digit...ditto...snore...

Call me crazy, but I find the fact that two nine-figure international drug traffickers were both thriving in Bulgaria far more fascinating than this whole telephone-number thing.

The GDP of the entire nation is only $45.9 billion, after all (by contrast, the US GDP is $14 trillion). Assuming Dishliev's operation was about triple that last bust (it could well have been more), these two drug smugglers alone accounted for $1.27 billion--or 2.8% of Bulgaria's GDP.

That is the equivalent of two men in the United States independently running drug empires worth a combined $39.2 billion, or roughly the entire GDP of Bulgaria.


To give you an even better perspective on that number, when the DEA dropped in on Pablo Escobar's secret cocaine factory in the jungles of Colombia in 1984, they seized 14 tons of cocaine--worth only $1 billion. At their peak, the entire Medellin Cartel was only making $25 billion a year.

The bottom line here? Who knows. Selling drugs is lucrative? Don't carry a cell phone?

Oh, wait--I know:

If you are an illicit captain of industry in a small European nation and worth a staggering sum of money, you should probably travel with a grip of bodyguards in a fleet of bulletproof Mercedes sedans.

Also, you should avoid having a phone number that is so easy for people to remember (or perhaps take a page out of Stringer Bell's book and avoid phones altogether); aren't you supposed to be minting money in the shadows?

And, while you're at it, what with those crafty Russians and their penchant for poisons, you should probably hire a food taster. May I recommend a voicebox-less Carrot Top? I'd love for somebody to take that asshole off our hands...

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Life Imitates Art: Anthony Hopkins Murders Wife, Stores Body in His Freezer

MOBILE, Ala. — An Alabama evangelist who authorities say terrorized his family while preaching at revivals has been sentenced to life plus 51 years in prison after being convicted of killing his wife and storing her body in a home freezer.

Circuit Judge John Lockett imposed the sentence Thursday on Anthony Hopkins, 39, who showed no remorse during the proceeding. He got the maximum sentence of life for murder and additional time for convictions including sodomy and sexual abuse.

(courtesy Huffington Post)

Okay, so...it isn't the Anthony Hopkins we all wanted it to be--cuz we all love a great hook that follows through, no matter the cost, right?--but it is an interesting story nonetheless.

Stay with me now:

During Hopkins' trial in April, prosecutors said he killed his 36-year-old wife, Arletha Hopkins, in 2004 after she caught him molesting a girl, then stuffed her body in a freezer at their home in north Mobile. Investigators discovered the body in 2008 after a young woman abused by Hopkins told child advocates about it, authorities said. Police arrested Hopkins while he was preaching at a revival in the south Alabama town of Jackson.

Defense attorney Jeff Deen said his client admits putting his wife's body in the freezer, but he doesn't know how she died.

"There's evidence in the trial that it could've been by natural causes, and it needs to be explored on appeal," Deen said.

Okay, so...there was a body in Anthony Hopkin's freezer for four years, while he was parading around the South preaching gospel to a bunch of suckers, molesting young girls, doing research for a role. Sorry.

I hate that it's the case, but this whole tragic affair in Alabama is no big surprise. I read about shit like this every day. Yes, the rise of the internet--not to mention the ready availability of audio recorders, video recorders, still cameras, traffic/security cameras, cell phones...--has been a sword with two razor-sharp edges.

Are people more corrupt and disgusting these days? Lord, no--think about the kind of shit the medieval aristocracy were up to, not to mention the Kennedys; think of how easy it was to cheat on your wife when phones didn't even exist. People today just get caught a whole hell of a lot more often, although, thanks to The People's short attention span and general ignorance, they rarely pay any price.

Anti-gay politicians busted for being gay, family-values politicians busted with mistresses/second families, deficit hawks voting for unlimited defense spending, Catholic priests molesting thousands of children, Popes kissing Nazi boots, televangelists raking in millions, Tom Cruise pretending he's not gay, Southern preachers molesting girls and murdering wives...it's all there on the internet, all there recorded for posterity, all there being ignored by 99% of the population. I wish the unwashed masses--who, unfortunately, have all the political muscle--were aware of all this shit, or at least aware of what it all means.

If you're reading, dear, dear, unwashed masses that I love more than little baby Jebus himelf, here is what it all means:

We cannot implicitly trust anybody in power to do the right thing--EVER--despite what they may or may not say with their mouths when they want your vote or get caught on camera with their dick in a small child or barnyard animal. Rather, we need to judge them based on their deeds and then hold them accountable; we need to look into the issues and identify those who act against our interests. This requires that we not only do our due diligence and read Huffington Post, Harper's, and Nothing is Sacred every chance we get, but also that we process what we are reading, come to intelligent conclusions, and act upon them.

Sadly, much like when they were in school, the unwashed were not paying attention.

They are all out there in this magnificent world, soiling theater seats as they chortle at lazy donkey-fart jokes in Shrek Again! In 3D!, petitioning the government to get their goddamn hands off their Medicare, Photoshopping fake Kenyan birth certificates, spacing out during reruns of Two and a Half Men as they reminisce about how cool high school was, playing video games, beating up fags on their way to the gay bar, staring at the wall and saying "Duh...", or taking advantage of the awesome drinkability of shitty domestic beer as they needlessly wave around a loaded handgun at their five-year-old's backyard birthday party, as part of some kind of elaborate joke nobody gets until they accidentally shoot a child in the face and they all crack up until they realize what actually, somehow, happened.


What is to be done about all this? Nothing.

That's right--nothing. Eventually, the people will do the right thing and revolt en masse. Eventually the cycle will repeat itself and people will wind up in the exact same place. It is what we do.

Why do you think intelligent people who are not also thieves and assholes always have such a frustrating time of things?

The secret is to not care, to stop giving a shit about the gross injustices perpetrated every day across this once-great (before mankind spoiled it) globe.

The rich have gotten richer, the rich will continue to get richer, evils are rewarded, and the businessmen and politicians may change but they will all stay the same. The day when naive voters are turned away from their polling places by ear-splitting, paralyzing sonic rays emitted from a Halliburton Soft-Kill Crowd-Control Cannon is nigh, folks. It is nigh.

So drink up, tune out, fuck around, and stop washing yourself so damn much.

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