Slowly Going Bald

Crap. You know? Just ... crap.

--------

At the beginning of last year, I managed to get myself worked up on more than one occasion about the awards races, mainly the Golden Globes and the Academy Awards. The point I tried to ramble toward in those pieces was that collecting award hardware, especially Oscars, is often viewed by many to be an automatic distinction of class, pedigree or skill for a film. I felt then and still believe that this is misleading, because plenty of high-quality films, filmmakers, actors, and others go unnoticed annually; additionally, some films that win major awards flat out don't deserve them.But there's a bigger and better argument to be made, and that is that film awards are ultimately too subjective to carry any real weight. Yes, it sounds good and feels nice to say that a film won two or three or 11 Oscars, but that doesn't make it a better film than something that went home empty-handed. FIlms are, or many endeavor to be, art. And art is unquantifiable.Loving movies and all media like I do, I agreed not long into my university experience to enter into a peaceful truce with most other men my age when it came to their all-encompassing love for sports and my preference for a moving story well-told to any kind of televised sporting event (except for curling, the sight of which I find oddly transfixing). I sit in awe at the feet of those who can regurgitate stat after stat, or who can give me the medical history of any player on the field. In a kind attempt to reach a common ground of understanding with their less overtly masculine counterpart, my friends often referred to the Oscars as my version of the Super Bowl. (Advertisers actually refer to the Academy Awards as "the Super Bowl for women," and man, that did wonders for the ego.) And I saw the parallels between the two events, and thought the metaphor apt.But it's not, and for one huge reason: Sports are quantifiable, and movies aren't.Sure, a lot of films aren't trying to be art. They're entertainment, after all, and some of the ones that purely set out to please you can turn out to be the most enjoyable. But some filmmakers are genuine artists, and there have been some amazing American films over the past 50 years that are good, or moving, or powerful, or sad, or uplifting for a thousand reasons you can't measure. On the other hand, you can argue about who "deserves" to win a game all you want, but the winning team is the one that scores more points. I know it's a tautology to say that the winner is the one that wins, but that's the truth. Did UT deserve to beat USC in the Rose Bowl? It doesn't matter; they did. The concept of deserving never enters into it.I feel this is the best day to bring this up. Nominations were announced this morning for the 78th Annual Academy Awards, and this Sunday is Super Bowl XL (too much fun for L, not quite enough for XXL). Two major television events in American culture, and while one will yield a clear, verifiable winner in the midst of overpriced commercials and bad musical acts, the Oscars will have to pick one among greats to go home with the major trophies.Walk the Line wasn't nominated for best picture. Does this mean it's not a good movie, or at least not as good as the ones nominated? No. Sadly, Crash was nominated, a disappointing but almost unavoidable turn of events. But when it comes to Capote versus Munich, no one can say that one is measurably "better" than the other.All that to say: Whoever wins the Super Bowl will claim they deserved the win, while the loser will say they'll be back next year, and the fleeting glories of Sunday's game will be forgotten in a few months by all but the most devout/unbalanced sports fans. But the films nominated today, and the dozens that weren't, will continue to be emotionally resonant long after the awards have been handed out.

--------

Over at USA Today, the paper of record for people who read People, Susan Wloszczyna attempts to profile the spread of Brokeback Mountain-related humor, and how this apparently means that culture is changing, or becoming more tolerant, or something. She interviews Bruce Vilanch, which takes any chance her column might have had to be considered credible and pretty much destroys it; Vilanch remarks on the "irresistible" humor of gay cowboys, etc.She does make one somewhat relevant comparison in her lead, though she drops the ball after that. She writes that "I wish I knew how to quit you" is the new "Show me the money." And to a greater extent than she realizes, it's true.The instant ubiquity of "Show me the money" after the 1996 release of Jerry Maguire turned the film's co-star, Cuba Gooding Jr., into a household name, though he's since squandered our collective goodwill by paying us back with Snow Dogs and Boat Trip. But the phrase redefined the film, turning it into a pop culture event, and in doing so it made us all forget that, writer/director Cameron Crowe's past and future glories aside, Jerry Maguire really isn't that great. Sure, it had a few memorable lines, including the other phrase that blitzkrieged the country, "You had me at 'hello'"; Tom Cruise seemed to tone it down a little; Renee Zellweger was still attractive, and could be counted on to act as a female romantic lead without the viewer's calling into question the very nature of reality. Cruise says something sensitive; Renee melts; slow push-in on the camera as the Springsteen music swells; repeat until credits.But my point isn't that Jerry Maguire is overrated, or not just that; it's that those phrases, especially "Show me the money," blinded us to the film's true mediocre nature. Instead of a movie, we had an idea of a movie; instead of a story, we had a stereotype, not unlike, say, gay cowboys.Which brings us full circle. Yes, "I wish I knew how to quit you" has, since just after Thanksgiving, been spreading faster and faster throughout culture, and Brokeback humor has spread from everything to Top Gun parodies to hints that He-Man might have had a thing for Skeletor. And, yes, the jokes range from funny and predictable to stupid and predictable, or sometimes just weird and predictable; regardless, there's always a kind of, you know, predictability about them.But latching onto the jokes and the catchpharses, as entertaining as it might be for 15 minutes, leads us away from the actual nature of the film, only instead of making us think a so-so film is actually good, like with Jerry Maguire, we're starting to think that a great film like Brokeback Mountain is only a middling work. Erring on the side of kindness for Crowe's film is one thing, but reducing Ang Lee's moving love story to a pile of cliches is something else entirely. It's a film with real characters, and real sadness, and the onslaught of "Bareback Mountain" jokes and the like are, an inch at a time, making us forget that.

--------

The Fametracker is an enjoyable site that ranks celebrities based on actual fame versus deserved fame (James Franco, for instance, is as well-known as Joaquin Phoenix but should acually be on the same level as Joshua Jackson, all things being equal and assuming the existence of a benign Creator), and they've just released a book compiling famous character actors. There's a companion database of same on their site, and it's a great and interesting resource of all the recognizable faces whose names often slip your mind. Sure, everybody knows J.T. Walsh (or you'd better, anyway), but what about Arye Gross? What about John Kapelos? And who doesn't love Stephen Tobolowsky? And you gotta give it up for Daniel von Bargen.Seriously, check it out: Hey! It's That Guy!

--------

Dear Mr. Zucker,First, congrats on "The Office" and "My Name Is Earl." Even if you had to rip off a great show to get a hit, still, it's nice to see you putting your weight behind single-camera shows with no laugh tracks and unique senses of humor. Granted, going from first to fourth place after losing your cash cow probably opened you up to new possibilities, and I respect that.Also, I'm happy to see that you offered Aaron Sorkin a hefty payment for his spec pilot, formerly titled "Studio 7 on the Sunset Strip." Sorkin's "Sports Night" was amazing but underviewed, and the first four years of "The West Wing," with Sorkin and director Thomas Schlamme at the helm, were the best of the series. Some moments in the show's second season are the best in TV. So I'm glad you bought "Studio 7," and that you've cast Matthew Perry for the new show. He was great but inderused in his guest spost on "The West Wing" a couple years ago.But here's the thing: You need Josh Charles."Sports Night" was the distillation of Aaron Sorkin's philosophical and emotional worldview, and the sometimes clunky beginning to his comedy. Most of the plot lines were grafted onto "The West Wing" when "Sports Night" was canceled after its second season: Sam Seaborn's (Rob Lowe) parents got divorced for the same reasons Jeremy Goodwin's (Joshua Malina) did, etc. And White House Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman (Bradley Whitford) was an almost direct transfer from Sports Night co-anchor Dan Rydell (Charles). Both Dan and Josh faced possible suspension/firing early in their respective series ("West Wing" pilot, "Sports Night" episode 1.2), they were both Jewish men from New England with dead siblings; etc., etc. But Dan Rydell was the heart and soul of the cast of characters, acting as both moral compass and sense of humor.Having Charles on the new Sorkin show would just be right, you know? Plus, it's not like the guy's actually all that busy; aside from some small roles in recent films, he might just be hanging out at home, living off Dead Poets royalties. Hire the guy.Well, that's pretty much all I had. Just stand back and let Sorkin do his work. And this time, if he gets into the blow again, just let it go. Your network needs him.Sincerely,Daniel CarlsonP.S. All your other shows suck. Except for "Scrubs." That's good. But everything else: bad.

--------

"I feel the need,the need for speed.If only Goose were here now..."Clickety-click.

--------

The photo ran with a story about Rumsfeld boasting that the Army wasn't overextended in Iraq and Afghanistan, probably grinning like Satan while he laid out the numbers. But the photo is a group of soldiers at Bush's speech in Manhattan, Kansas, the other day. Sleepy's my favorite, but really, they all look so enthralled by their commander-in-chief it's hard to pick a winner.

--------

The best documentary I've seen in a long time:Clickety-click.Also, please visit the film's official site, which has some amazing clips. This goes double for those of you living in small towns where this film will never open.

--------

I don't know if it was the cruel hand of fate or some station programmer with a sense of humor and and eye to the future, but whatever the cause, scheduling Footloose to air the night Chris Penn dies is just plain amazing. That's just good comedy, folks. Thanks, HBO, for making our night a little more surreal and special.

--------

Dear Sir,Stop staring at me. It's freaking me the hell out.Also, stop walking so slow, talking so high, and shuffling down the hall after the women with your head cocked to the side and your eyes squinted around a vacant stare. Seriously, it's just creepy.Thanks,Daniel Carlson

--------

Prince In Unintentionally Torn-At-The-Crotch Gap JeansDuke That Shops The Clearance Rack At BananaVague Royalty Cruising For Trim At SkechersNice Guy That Maybe Irons A Shirt Every Other Week

--------

Floating dog? Yep. Floating dog.

--------

3:25 p.m. on a Monday.Time for Mathman. [RealPlayer req'd.]

--------

After seven years, four of them amazing, "The West Wing" will end its run on NBC this May. And I, for one, think it's about time.Aaron Sorkin, the show's creator, and director Thomas Schlamme left after the fourth season ended, and quality took a nose dive. The ratings soon followed suit. With Sorkin gone, the show lost the heart that so brilliantly placed head and shoulders above other network programming its first few years. Executive producer John Wells took the reins solo, and before long, "The West Wing" began to look like Wells' other show, the long-in-the-tooth "ER." The warm lighting and formal framing have given way to shadows, sharp angles, and camera work that's supposed to be edgy or original but is really just distracting. The stories have devolved, too: The sense of hope, of minor triumph in the face of major adversity, is gone, and all that's left is a herd of disappointed characters looking lost in the world they used to rule.So long, "West Wing." Now, bring on Sorkin's new project: "Studio 7 on the Sunset Strip."

--------

Coming soon to a screening room in Colorado Springs.Clickety-click.

--------

Believe it or not, Colin Farrell doesn't drag the whole thing down.Also, I use the word "apotheosis." Enjoy.Clickety-click.

--------

I'm pretty sure you all saw this coming, but I just couldn't resist it. Were I in middle school, I'm sure this experiment would have taken on a much bluer, Weird Science-like tone, but as is, I just went with my default emotional setting of randomness.First up: An idea born from a class The Sis is taking right now, and a slogan that turned out to be eerily self-aware.Next: No idea where it came from. But here it is.Again, this site seems oddly prescient, or at least loaded with a healthy sense of irony: Sometimes, this is all I want to do:And my favorite:

--------

Pretty.

--------

I found this site, which will create a slogan with any word you want to stick in the box. I went with my name, but really, the possibilities are endless. It also gave me "You Can Really Taste The Dan!," which is kind of weird, and "It Takes A Tough Man To Make A Tender Dan," which I found unsettling but oddly flattering.

--------

I walked through the lobby of my building into the small cafe to buy a drink for lunch, and as soon as I entered I was stopped in my tracks, held firm by the music on the speaker in the wall, because it was there, amid the Sun Chips and the peanuts and generally overpriced sodas, that the rockin' chords of Bryan Adams' "Summer of '69" came thundering down to me in all their lite-rock glory. Suddenly, I looked into the eyes of the woman in front of me in line and sang "Those were the best days of our lives." She began to dance, not that erotically but still pretty hot, while the man working behind the cash register went into the bridge: "...we were young and restless / we needed to unwind / we knew nothing would last forever...," his rich baritone carrying out into the lobby, where I saw upon my exit from the cafe two security guards and a UPS man engaged in some kind of spontaneous background dancing. One of them did a suprisingly moving air guitar face. The perspective changed to third-person, as I saw myself move through a series of slow-mo shots, as in a trailer for some Bruckheimerian opus about a young schlub with a grammar hangup (boxoffice disaster, but I think the international sales would put it back in the black). If anyone wanted to write that trailer, by the way, that'd be cool.As I waltzed out onto the street, the whole of Wilshire Blvd. caught up in some kind of brotherhood-of-man lovefest brought on by the gravelly tenor of Canada's favorite son, I realized: California's a magical place.

--------

THR has a story (reprinted on CNN) about Fox's upcoming slate, but the heartbreaker comes about halfway down: Peter Ligouri, Fox entertainment president, says the return of "Arrested Development" for a fourth season is "highly unlikely."Now, this isn't exactly surprising, but still, it stings.I said most of what I needed to say when I posted about this a few days ago. So long, "Arrested Development." It was really great while it lasted.

--------

Sometimes, my friends don't understand why I seem so tired of the whole thing, by which I mean the ongoing struggle to present some relatable, sane form of religion to the world. That's when I show them stories like this one, which make me want to turn my back altogether.Thankfully, the proposed rule was rejected, but that's hardly cause for celebration. It never should have come up.Seriously, sometimes I just sit and wait for every Christian over 70 to die or give up, so things can move on. I can't take this crap much longer.

--------

The Associated Press has already been more on my mind than normal during the last week, thanks to their egregious error in overlooking "The Colbert Report." But their story about this year's Golden Globe winners proves to be just as nearsighted.Beneath the headline "Alternative lifestyles get Globes nod," the AP story emphasized those wacky homos and their out-there ways by highlighting, just in case you missed it, that Brokeback Mountain is about dudes kissing. The clause that most irked me was this one: "...Philip Seymour Hoffman won the dramatic actor award for playing gay author Truman Capote." As the star of Capote, Hoffman gave an amazing performance, but limiting his role to "gay author" is unfair to his work. He was white, too, and male. Why not mention those?I guess I'm just disappointed that the AP saw fit to write the by-the-numbers story that reinforces stereotypes and might only be seen as balanced by the members of Bill O'Reilly's America, who probably couldn't give the first crap about these movies.

--------

I've got to say, David Foster Wallace is frustratingly good at what he does, which is write fiction and nonfiction that seeps into your brain and lives there, leaving behind sentences and images that you can't shake. Trust me, I've tried.Anyone able to tear themselves away from the never-less-than-enthralling content here in the main area of the site may have noticed that Infinite Jest sits permanently on the sidebar. It's one of the best things I've ever read. I hope others pick it up and plow through it. Don't be frightened by the 1,000-page-plus length, or the copious, self-reflexive footnotes. It's amazing.Here's a taste, for those unfamiliar with his work: An essay from the mid-'90s titled "F/X Porn," about how special effects can kill storytelling in films. Enjoy.

--------

Anyone who's tired of conventional stand-up would do well to check out Zach Galifianakis. While you're at it, be sure and rent The Comedians of Comedy, and keep your eyes peeled for episodes of the "Comedians of Comedy" show on Comedy Central. [If you're in my neck of the woods next week, just catch him at Largo.]The rest of you can go watch whatever you want, like Leno or something. I don't care.

--------

These are the states I've been to (the site is here). I've got to admit, it's not that impressive. And I've only left the U.S. to go to Mexico.

--------

I know what you're thinking: "Dan, you pasty, arrogant little guy you, Wedding Crashers came out on July 15. Why are you only now talking about it in January?" Well, I didn't see the movie until recently. I meant to see it over the summer, sure, but I was busy and broke, and the weeks kept slipping by and I just never saw it. I was never assigned to review it, either, and since I'm no longer in a collegiate setting, there was no pressure to see it so we could all begin endlessly quoting it. Also, getting to more than one movie a week, though enjoyable, isn't always possible. But, thanks to my roommate's generosity, I was able to sit down last night with the "Uncorked Edition" DVD, which presumably manages to get, you know, just off-the-charts insane in 8 extra minutes of re-inserted footage, including extended conversations between Jeremy (Vince Vaughn) and Gloria (Isla Fisher). Um, awesome.The longer edition is unrated because it wasn't submitted to the MPAA for rating, not, as many might believe, because it's extra raunchy or sexy or whatever. The additional scenes do nothing to enhance the story, and in fact only drag out what's already an over-long comedy. This is the main problem with Wedding Crashers: Among other things, it needs to be at least 20 minutes shorter.Director David Dobkin, of Shanghai Knights infamy, oscillates between sex comedy and trite romance, and this kills the momentum. As John, Owen Wilson is forced to play the straight man in a sappy romance subplot, while the viewer is left wanting more of Vaughn. What should have been done:Cut out most of the third act. After Claire (Rachel McAdams) inevitably discovers John's secret life as a tail-chasing wedding crasher, she blows him off and begins to plan a sad wedding and unhappy marriage to boyfriend Sack (Bradley Cooper). John hatches an elaborate plot to crash their engagement party as a waiter, only to be ejected and beaten up by Sack and his cronies. This whole thing is pointless. Similarly, Jeremy and Gloria get engaged, and John and Claire reunite at their wedding, which takes far too long. This is Wedding Crashers, after all, not some actual movie. Just have John and Jeremy crash Claire's wedding and rescue her.Get rid of most of Will Ferrell's scenes. He cameos as Chazz, the guy that supposedly invented the "rules of crashing" and handed them down to John and Jeremy. But watching him yell "Mom! Meatloaf!" gets old fast. Have him show up for the finale, at the wedding. Less is more, especially with Ferrell.Kill most of the beginning. We meet John and Jeremy at work, where they do ... something. Divorce arbitration? It's never made clear. Why give them such a successful job if they spend each wedding season inventing vocations and looking for bridesmaids? Give them crappy jobs, or don't even mention it.I could go on. Trust me. But I won't. And don't misunderstand me, either: I liked the movie, especially Vince Vaughn as an older, more desperate version of Trent. But the film's reach far outmatched its grasp, and the result is less than satisfying.

--------

It's the time of year when critics, pundits, and pretty much anyone who wants to compiles a list of their favorite films from the year before. The IMDb is also offering its annual user poll, where visitors to the site who've signed up for a free account can cast their ballots for best picture, actor, actress, director, and superlatives in several other categories. And this, as you might expect, can be dangerous.I'm a huge IMDb fan, and have been since high school. It's the biggest and most-used site of its kind, and holds a wealth of information. But their active users tend to skew differently than you'd think. Sure, The Godfather is among the site's Top 250 Movies, currently ranking at #1, but Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King sits at #4, a position far too high for such a historically unproven and terribly overrated movie. Taxi Driver (#39) and To Kill A Mockingbird (#40) are on the list, but they're not as high as The Matrix (#34). Frighteningly, Crash (#65) outranks Double Indemnity (#69). Reading their Top 250 list is like listening to that guy in college who thought he was smart or deep or edgy or whatever because he liked stuff like The Boondock Saints, when really that guy's kind of pitiable.Anyway, they've opened their polls for the best of 2005, and so far, the results are both what you'd expect and below what they should be. Brokeback Mountain currently sits in second place in the best film poll, but it's an aberration compared with the rest of the list: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, King Kong, and, sadly enough, Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith. The only other non-fanboy title on the list is Crash, this year's version of the "deep" film for people who don't understand why it's actually not that good. Right now, Harry Potter is winning with 22% of the vote, or 9,326 votes, to Brokeback's 13%, or 5,584. The acting categories are disturbing, as well; last I checked, Rachel Weisz and Maria Bello were competing with Emma Watson and Dakota Fanning.Now, I feel I should repeat, for the people I know won't understand this post: I have nothing against the more mainstream stuff on the list (except for Crash, but I'll deal with that later). In fact, I think Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is the best Potter film yet. But comparing Watson's performance in that film to Bello's in A History of Violence? Even pretending that they're on the same level is an insult to Bello, and to film in general.I guess what I'm saying is: Reach for the treetops, IMDb voters. Sure, War of the Worlds was fun, but maybe you should dig a little deeper when it comes to deciding what films were really among the best of the year. Or, you know, don't. That's fine, too. Just do what you want. Vote your little non-caring hearts out. Maybe go home and watch Dead Poets Society, which is in no way saccharine or overhyped. Everything's fine.Everything's fine.

--------

A great place to get Criterion discs on the cheap: Right here.And there's also this site, which is a good resource.

--------

Here's the great thing about late-night cable: Where else can I watch Frank Whaley romance Jennifer Connelly (sporting a truly epic set of eyebrows, with a tiny dot of dark hair between them, just above the nose; seriously, they should get separate billing) in a movie written by the man behind Ferris Bueller and directed by someone who's gone on to helm episodes of everything from The West Wing to The Office? Dermot Mulroney even shows up as a petty thief. Amazing.

--------

It's been announced that the third and current season of Fox's Arrested Development will be shorter than normal, only 13 episodes instead of the standard 22. This, in turn, has fueles speculation that this will be the final season for the smart, critically loved but viewer-deprived show. And, as much as it pains me to say it, it might be time to let it go.Full disclosure: I love the show. It's a single-camera sitcom with no laugh track, sharp writing and quick humor. I fell in love with another show with similar stylings a few years ago, Aaron Sorkin's Sports Night. That was the first show I ever really loved more than anyone should love a TV program, and it was canceled after two seasons. I've thought many times that I'd gladly give up an arm if only I could rewrite history and get just one more year with the cast and crew at CSC, the fictional sports network at the center of Sports Night, but the passage of time and the beginning of an understanding of the cruel reality of network TV have persuaded me that maybe, just maybe, things are okay this way.Most shows that last for 6 years, or 7, or even 10, rarely maintain the level of quality with which they began. Notably, Sorkin's The West Wing faced a huge drop in quality when he left the show after its fourth season. Friends ran for 10 years, of which maybe 6 were worthwhile. It's a tough balancing act for programs: Live too long, and you jump the shark; die too soon, and you're missed all the more.Sure, I'll miss Arrested Development, as will others of my generation. But look on the bright side: We got three (well, two and a half) perfect seasons. And I, for one, am thankful.

--------

This morning, on the 101, I rear-ended a driver and caused a minor accident. We each exited our cars and began screaming at each other, trading racial slurs and stock obscenities as we struggled to come to terms with our humanity.Just then, a city bus drove by. Ludacris was sitting in the back, staring out the window and looking contemplative, as if he was also internally debating the very same human condition in which I now found myself immersed.What a psychologically deep and in no way cliche, derivative, or hackneyed turn of events. Someone should make an overhyped movie about it. That'd be awesome.

--------

It's not that bad, but it makes me dread the rest of January and February. There are some horrors on the horizon, believe you me. Anyway:Clickety-click.

--------

Learn it. Know it. Live it.Clickety-click: The best of the year.

--------

The best and worst of 2005

The Matador

The New World

End of the Spear

Why We Fight

Annapolis

--------

I'm putting together a list of songs that should be played at my funeral, and also burned onto a CD and distributed to any mourners who might show up as a kind of really weird parting (ha) gift. It'd be cool if the CDs could be black, as well, but regular ones are fine. That way, during the service or the car ride home, people could pause from their grief to say, "Wow, this is a good CD." Possible track list includes:"Peaceful Valley," Ryan Adams and the Cardinals"Please Tell My Brother," Golden Smog"No Depression," Uncle Tupelo"Sorrow," Bad Religion"Sin Nombre," The Refreshments"Won't Be Home," Old 97's"Another Travelin' Song," Bright Eyes"Houses on the Hill," WhiskeytownOnce the list is finalized (for now), I should probably laminate it and stick it in my wallet, so that my donor information and musical preferences can be preserved, unless of course my death involves some kind of plane crash on a deserted island, in which case someone can just come back and look this up online. I can't do everything for you, now.Any additional suggestions for the CD are welcome.

--------

As I walked down the hall to the bathroom, I passed a guy from the art department, who's dating a girl in my department, both of whom are ardent USC fans. They know I'm from Texas. After quickly nodding our heads back and blurting "Hey," which is how men speak, he said to me: "So you must be a pretty happy camper today, huh?," alluding to last night's Texas victory and my apparently automatic ensuing joy."Well," I said, thinking on my feet and grinning the tiny grin I use on adults and in job interviews, "I don't want to rub anybody's nose in it." At this point his girlfriend, who'd just left the bathroom, appeared behind me and walked towards him. "Thanks, Dan," she said with a smile that actually made me believe she was depressed and appreciated my kindness. As I entered the men's room, we made a couple more minor jokes. All in all, a successful encounter.With that in mind, let's check the updated scoreboard for January:Doubts About My Ability To Meaningfully Connect With Other People: 3,490Me: 1As long as it's not a shut-out.

--------

In the rush of activity this holiday season, I forgot the most important thing of all:

--------

It's time for the '06 Bloggies, which despite their name are real awards and in no way made up just to boost our egos, which are already pretty substantial.Seriously, though: Cast your ballots. [Direct link here.]

--------

This is my parents' dog. They, out of an apparent lack of entertainment options, decided to bathe him in the kitchen sink. The dog probably found this pretty confusing, as evidenced by his plaintive look into the camera, and also maybe insulting, especially since he's already neutered, and probably figures the people that feed and house him must take some small comfort in toying with his happiness. I wanted to name him Rusty the Nutless Wonder, but that was vetoed. I can only assume my sister gave him the mohawk.

--------

You know, a catchphrase or something I can spout at people or chant to myself to pick myself up when I'm down or explain myself to the world. Right now, all I can come up with is "This is the 80s, I'm down with the ladies," but it turns out that Tone Loc already took it. Curse his raspy manliness.So, anyway, if anybody thinks of one, let me know. Till then, I'm motto-less.

--------

Okay, so, here's the thing:Jenny died of AIDS, right? So doesn't that mean that she would have transmitted it to Forrest the night they had sex, the night Forrest Jr. was conceived? And doesn't that mean that Forrest Jr. has it, too?I'd prefer an answer from an expert in the field, or, if he's reading this, Robert Zemeckis.

--------