I finished the second season of Gilmore Girls this weekend, and feel relatively well-qualified to comment: to discuss. Lots to talk about. (Does that mean there’ll be more of these lengthy posts? Maybe! Obsessive now.) But mostly… I’m thinking the Nip/Tuck boys need to stand down, and our favorite morticians should get accustomed to being second-best. Lorelei Gilmore (elder) has got to be the most messed up, fascinating, conflicted character on my television screen. (Vic Mackey lost his edge somewhere in the third season.) What a total piece of work she is. ...

Jesse Jackson wants Terry Schiavo kept alive (original). I must confess a certain bleak curiosity; will those on the left who excoriated Ralph Nader hold Jesse to the same standard?

Still no government.

If del.icio.us (original) was a calendar, it might look like Upcoming.org. Intriguing stuff. I keep thinking about writing a script to screenscrape movie showtimes and turn ‘em into an RSS feed; if I did that, I could also feed (say) the Brattle and the Coolidge schedules into Upcoming. Hm.

Look, people are either likely to see The Big Sleep if they get the chance or not, right? But there are going to be some people with good intentions who never get around to it. To those people I say this: go see the damned thing if you ever get a chance. That’s what movie theaters are for, after all. The plot makes little sense. Somewhere in the transition from Chandler to Faulkner (who wrote the screenplay) by way of Leigh Brackett (who wrote an earlier version of the screenplay, and who much later wrote the first version of The Empire Strikes Back), some of the connective tissue of the novel vanished. No harm, as they say, and no foul. It’s not so much the plot that matters; if you’re seeing this movie, you ought to be seeing it for the lushness of the women and the dialogue and the violence. Virulent violence, really. There’s nothing like a thug. ...

This is to blame. She was: Working next to me A rare thing Fine as: a bee’s wing so fine a breath of air might blow her away A lost child Running wild Sleeping rough back on the Derby beat Even married once, to a man named Romany Brown I was: Nineteen when I came to town In love with a laundry girl We: Busked around the market square Picked fruit down in Kent ...

This (original) struck me as just a stupid loudmouth. This made me relieved that the people getting violent are ineffectual. This has me worried. I’m not sure why; perhaps it’s that the third time is a charm, or perhaps it’s that Hal Turner has an audience. Maybe it’s because Jeb Bush nearly sent armed men in. Hopefully it’s just a publicity stunt to boost Turner’s ratings; hopefully none of his listeners take it as an indication that they should join him. ...

The Brattle begins their LA Noir film series tonight with Los Angeles Plays Itself. It’s a documentary/clip show about the way LA has been portrayed in film over the decades. In a weird kind of a way, it sounds like Ackroyd’s London in cinematic form; Los Angeles is a character in this movie, not just a subject. Also showing over the course of the next week or so: Chinatown (Jack), Criss Cross (not the boy band), This Gun For Hire (Veronica Lake, Alan Ladd), Point Blank (Lee Marvin and Angie Dickinson), Collateral (Tom Cruise), and To Live And Die In L.A. (everybody Wang Chung tonight). Sweet lineup. Must viewing.

Via Alas, a blog (original), here’s a free source of living will documents (original).

Here’s the plan: FanTasia 2005 (original) takes place from July 7th to July 24th of this year. I’m going for either one or two weeks of that period; haven’t decided which yet, won’t decide until the schedule is out, which will be sometime in June. I’ll be renting a furnished one-bedroom near the venues, and anyone who I know and don’t mind sharing space with is welcome to come crash there for any or all of my visit. I figure it’s my God-given duty to inflict weird and fantastic movies on people, see. ...