A Mad Break: Saying So Long to Two TV Faves

This weekend brought the series finales to two of my favorite television shows: Prison Break and MadTV. Although I've watched both shows infrequently lately, I've been a fan and have seen most episodes of each series, so I made sure to catch these last ones, (1.) for that necessary sense of closure and (2.) to see if my faithfulness would be rewarded with a satisfactory resolution. Though both shows are vastly different in genre and format, they delivered the best they could considering the circumstances. Indulge me an analysis of each.

Prison Break

"A brother's love . . . is a brother's love." -- Detective Roland Castlebeck (portrayed by Delroy Lindo) in Gone in Sixty Seconds

I confess, I didn't watch Prison Break's hasty return to television last month. Fox didn't hesitate to advertise the last half of this season as "the final episodes," so, if the network barely cared about the series, why should I? Still, four years later, I just had to see if/how the brothers Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows survived their run from the law (though the show's plot couldn't take place for a period of time more than just several months). To summarize the series' twists into a single, comprehensive synopsis, near as I can tell (spoiler alert): Lincoln was framed for the murder of the Vice President's brother so Michael would develop the prison break skills and a secret society led by their mother could plant him in a Panama prison to break out the man capable of delivering Scylla, a hard drive with data about global infrastructure. In the end, Michael protects Scylla from his mother and the Company, another shadow group with evil intentions, and he eventually cuts a deal with the United Nations in exchange for his comrades' freedom.

Trust me, the four seasons' worth of television was much more interesting than that synopsis. Fortunately, I was less interested in the perpetual mystery and more in the development of the characters, specifically Scofield and Burrows, who, as this finale explains, symbolize the concept of nature versus nurture. While Lincoln lived a criminal life (he wasn't hard to frame), Michael overcame their neglected childhood to become a successful architect. Further, these characters could've been the Hardy Boys for a new generation, as Frank was definitively the brains and Joe the brawn -- except in Prison Break, their mystery was too self-oriented. Indeed, with a title like Prison Break, even when the show didn't take place in a prison, it focused on issues of both internally and externally exposed exile, escaping both circumstantial bonds and the constrictions of one's own perceptions and personality. If you're branded a criminal, are you forced to live that life, even if you were originally innocent? Ironically, even an innocent man on the run is guilty of being a fugitive! As this show's bittersweet final moments prove, some things in life simply can't be outrun.

MadTV

What, me canceled?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: MadTV is better than Saturday Night Live. I use the present tense because many of MadTV's sketches retain a timeless comedy that should experience success via the likes of YouTube and Hulu or years to come. The secret to this success is simple: MadTV always put comedy first. SNL has frequently struggled with relevance and casting, and when either has suffered, the show has, as well; MadTV has been consistent in its content and delivery from day one. While many comic book fans don't consider MadTV a traditional page-to-screen adaptation, its goofy satire reflects what the magazine has done for decades. Unlike SNL, it never took itself too seriously to think it could make a difference on any social or political landscape, and it only sought to remain relevant in the realm of comedy, by offering memorable characters like Stewart, or by making celebrities like Kenny Rogers so exaggerated they might as well be as made up.

Consider the recent Presidential election. In their skits about Sarah Palin, SNL gave us a barely costumed Tina Fey simply reiterating the candidate's verbal pratfalls verbatim, as if giving America a chance to laugh at it again is genuinely clever or original. I actually blogged about this before, when I wrote, " . . . a squirrely old McCain that frequently asks for his shawl is much more subversive than a Palin lookalike that reiterates the source material with a smirk that’s somehow supposed to make the reality of it all more derisively funny. 'Mavericky' isn't a punchline; it's a shortcut. Obama and McCain in a dance-off, which would most likely and ironically receive higher primetime ratings than one of their debates anyway? Hilarious."

I'll especially miss Bobby Lee's characters: the Asian interpreter and his catchphrase, "Uh oh, hot dog," or Tank, or most recently Johnny Gan. For fourteen years, MadTV made Saturday night a night worth staying home -- and I couldn't help but take its mock charity fundraiser season finale a little emotionally. That's right -- I took it hard, and sloppy.

Like I said at the top, these final episodes did the best they could with what had been established, surprisingly faithful to longtime viewers with imagery and callbacks to first season standards. I was wondering why I felt like something was lacking after each finale, but I realize now -- it's not that the episode was missing something. It's that, now my life will be . . . not that I won't be looking for a substitute, though. Indeed, television is the prison from which we can never escape.

Taxation With Plenty of Retaliation

I love protests. In fact, I so love protests that I self-published a photo journal of the protests I’ve attended in the past several years, and I still have some copies available if you’d like to purchase one for the cost of reproduction and shipping. Anyway, I love protests because they inspire people to be seen and heard -- hence, the chant, and the picket sign. These simple expressions are often so thoughtfully executed, bringing a camera is critical to any demonstration. A well-executed protest is also an art exhibition, free of charge and in your face, which if often the best kind.

I also love living in Fullerton. I haven’t much mentioned this on-line, but I’ve attended school, lived, and worked in Fullerton, California for twelve years. Fullerton is a relatively small town in many ways; its longtime citizens are also its politicians and teachers, and community events are often held monthly, or even weekly during the spring and summertime Farmer’s Market. Yet, as a college town, Fullerton strives to reach its big city potential, with a renovated downtown that the Los Angeles Times once dubbed “Hollywood East” for its thriving nightlife. On many levels, it’s a happenin’ town.

So you could imagine my excitement when I heard that an anti-tax rally was coming to my town. Protests of this caliber are usually reserved for Los Angeles or Hollywood, presumably for the media’s convenience since they’re headquartered there anyway. In this case, KFI 640 AM’s John & Ken Show sought a more central location, and their weeks’ worth of promotion for this “Tax Revolt” brought a staggering 15,000 people to my little college town. I think they’ve padded those numbers a bit, but my girlfriend, my old friend John, and I braved the crowd, and in their midst the people easily numbered into the thousands. If Fullerton ever needed a tourist board . . .!

Like usual, I snapped away at every sign or crowd-driven quirk I could find, with the intention of cropping and editing the pictures to emphasize my targeted details later. No time for worries like framing and focusing in the heat of the moment, after all. When my old pal Eric and I would attend the old anti-war rallies in Hollywood, I’d always marvel at the raw cityscape in the background, its building’s grays and landscape’s green a stark contrast to the red, white, and blue of the patriotic picket sign. These pictures strike the same cord, yet . . . it’s where I live and work. Particularly in the brick, and the winter worn trees -- surrounded by rampant activism, I’m gripped by the stillness of my city. I’ve loved it for a long time, and in many ways it’s both the most persistent and frail place I know. I can appreciate that.

Of course, the crowd and its signs are the stars of this show, and as a fanboy with Arnold Schwarzenegger as its governor, I can also appreciate the geek factor implemented in this protest. With imagery from the Terminator franchise and Total Recall and Predator, with effigies including action figures . . . with folks dressing up like Jack Sparrow (?) and the anti-hero from V for Vendetta . . . this protest could’ve been an extension of Comic Con. Some of the posters were definitely small press worthy, in either their embrace of caricature or graphic design. My favorite was the kid and his lemonade stand, complete with a sign adorned with his mascot, the Lemonader! An entrepreneur and an artist! The next Stan Lee, ladies and gentlemen!

This protest was particularly family friendly, even with carnival booth games. I won a T-shirt on my first attempt to keep the bowling ball over the hump, lest its momentum roll it back toward me, symbolic of getting over the impending statewide tax hump. John and Ken also encouraged attendees to bring Arnold merchandise for destruction, and to put his and other local politicians’ heads on a stick, which despite any other illusion made the whole event Shakespearean in scope to me. For all of the obvious quips involving True Lies, Total Recall, and even Last Action Hero (i.e. Tax Action Zero), I regret not seeing anything about Kindergarten Cop or Jingle All the Way. How about Arnold and impeached governor Gray Davis are now like Twins? Eh? Eh? If you’re bringing the family, remember the PG flicks, too!

Ah, but who knows if protests like this really produce results? They definitely rally the troops, but if the call to action isn’t a lifestyle, then these exhibitions are just that -- mere bursts of raw, reactive emotion. You know, I’m actually fine with that. Most art is really just a quick burst of raw, reactive emotion -- purging the demon from the artist while capturing it on a canvas for others to relate. I’m happy to be a part of the latter end of that equation, in some ways a blank slate myself until impressed with the emotions of an impassioned protestor. After all, how can it be a protest if someone’s worldview isn’t put to the test?

I've posted plenty more pictures on my Flickr, but I wanted to include these last two here because they spotlight topics I've addressed in my first two "Vs. Current Events" comics!

Vs. Current Events #2: Rush to Judgment!

Last weekend, Rush Limbaugh gave a speech that has sparked controversy about his role as the voice of the Republican party. In short, Rush has publicly expressed that he hopes President Obama fails -- pretty much at everything. The thing is, however you feel about Obama, the anomaly of his race and his well spoken demeanor has brought the kind of celebrity to politics that has attracted the interest and excitement of younger, presumably previously apathetic voters. You can disagree with him, but to hope for outright failure? Nothing will alienate that generation more than partisan politics as usual. Three years ago, Republican pundits were claiming that the Democratic party was dead in the water; now that the roles are reversed, the GOP should follow the Dems' example and find some fresh blood. Ironically, Rush threatens to slow their resurrection down.

Incidentally, I feel compelled to explain this comic, as the few people that read it before this post failed to grasp the punchline without some conversation. Basically, Rush realizes that having a deadline inspires him to produce his best work yet, coincidentally about a speech against Obama's withdrawal from Iraq deadline. I know Republicans have expressed concern with publicizing a withdrawal date, because it empowers terrorists to think ahead, like, "America's out of here August 21? Let's attack on August 22!" Yet, any procrastinating college student knows how one can produce their best work against a deadline. If our military marketed this pull-out plan effectively, it would exude the kind of confidence that elicits fear. The message shouldn't be, "We're out by August 21," rather, "We'll be done with you by August 21 -- and we're going to leave some troops behind to make sure you stay down."

From an artistic standpoint, this "Vs. Current Events" series is fun, because its reactionary tone toward news demands an immediacy in production. If I don't finish it within a day of its inspiration, it's outdated, so I'm forced to draw it, post it, and be done with it. I'm enjoying the use of shading, too, which is something I've never tried before. It distracts from some of my imperfect inking and adds an independent quality I dig. Of course, I think I overindulged in this sophomore effort (resulting in poor resolution on my lettering), so we'll see what the next headline brings. Rush would attest -- projects like this are about finding your voice. Fortunately, in this case, I can speak for myself.

The Screening Process: Recent Thoughts About Television and Film, part 1 -- The Boob Tube

A few nagging tidbits about television and film have plagued my thoughts lately, so I've decided to purge them here for your enjoyment!

* While I was as compelled by the last season of American Idol as the squeaky teeny-bopper, I'm half-watching this season -- literally, since it airs on the Wednesdays I usually participate in a local poetry open mic. Even if I did reserve Hump Day for the latest round of Idol antics, a moment from season eight's premiere may have turned me off to the hunt for America's next diva altogether. Rocker Randy Madden betrayed his sensitive side when he cried for the camera, and after his ambitious performance of Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer," the judges said that Randy hadn't learned any of the industry's hard lessons, that he wasn't qualified based on a lack of experience and presumably its subsequent disappointments. In the same segment, they let a sixteen-year-old girl through to Hollywood, based on, gasp, her singing voice. The judges sugar-coating their critique with claims that life lessons are necessary for stardom when in the same fifteen minutes they open the door for a middle class teenager with nothing to lose . . . is hypocritical. It cheapens the show, even these first few episodes apparently dedicated to superficial value judgements based on a virtual freak show of wanna-be singers. Randy wasn't "make it to Hollywood" material, but at least guys like him know what they want. Me, I don't know how much entertainment I can derive from watching them fail anymore, especially in the face of judges that don't even know why they're there.

* Prison Break has been cancelled, probably for its own good. I've read the episodes that have been filmed will air in April, but the series finale hasn't been shot yet and maybe never will be. As a fan of the show, of course I'm anxious to see how these four seasons reach their end, and while such an action-packed show would undoubtedly demand a significant budget for a finale, I don't see why Fox wouldn't deem it worthy. First of all, a concise conclusion makes for a great complete Prison Break boxed set; second, a few more episodes might cement syndication sales. I mean, who would watch the reruns knowing that it all just leaves you hanging? Finally, since the show has always been an allegory for overcoming others' perspectives (the whole reason Lincoln was successfully framed and convicted for killing the Vice President's brother was because of his lifestyle as a thug, plain and simple), a series finale makes symbolic sense. We viewers have been chasing after the show's dangling threads for years; now, here we are, face to face with the fugitive that is Prison Break in the proverbial leaky sewer tube, except, unlike Tommy Lee Jones, we do care. Don't leave us hanging here, Fox! Like Michael Scofield, learn that hard lesson: finish what you start, no matter what!

* Sean Hannity recently interviewed Rush Limbaugh about President Barack Obama's economic plans. I didn't watch the interview, and I don't know if I have to, because I can predict how they feel and really can't get past the conversation's very concept. Its logistics. Hannity interviewing Rush is like a person getting interviewed by his own echo. It's like my left testicle high-fiving my right. It's like that verse in the Bible that says the Bible is the inspired word of God because the Bible tells us so! (That's 2 Timothy 3:16, folks.) Of course, the interview wasn't really a chance for Rush to share his thoughts on just-inaugurated President Obama -- he has a nationally syndicated talk show for that. No, sitting down with Sean Hannity was a purely militant move, akin to a platoon beholding its field commander chatting with their staff sergeant. The message is loud and clear: "As the newly elected minority, the more of us in a room, the louder we can be!" Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity: Keeping the can in Republican!

* In the wake of the holiday season, I've realized how important The Late Show with David Letterman is in my life. Long-time friends will remember my "Top 10 Boy" alter ego in high school, but on a much more personal level, unlike other television staples Letterman has adhered to a few traditions on his show that have become integral to my sense of the holiday spirit. For instance, on Thanksgiving night, when Dave began the "guess the pie" segment with his mom from Indiana, I nodded fondly, familiarly. Then again, when Jay Thomas tossed a football to knock down the Christmas tree meatball in December, I smirked knowingly, remembering I had seen the bit some years before. Dave's always been a sensitive guy, but especially since his heart attack, September 11, and the birth of his son, his vulnerability for tradition is apparent now more than ever -- and I'm all the more appreciative of his comedy as a result. When I first moved to California, I thought I should pledge an allegiance with Leno by way of coast, but Dave proves it every year: home is where the heart is. I couldn't deny my own late night nature for too long.

Now, these thoughts aren't in order of importance or anything, but I consciously concluded the diatribe on a high note. Needless to say, when it comes to the boob tube, I usually always have something to get off my chest . . . but the silver screen isn't safe, either! To be continued!

Inauguration Day

Good luck finding anything on television today. Not that Inauguration Day doesn't deserve a little coverage, especially this one, the historical day Dr. King's dream comes true and blah, blah, blah. Honestly, the news media hyperbole dried up weeks ago, culminating in today's practically speechless awe toward now President Barack Obama's first official day in office. I caught a few minutes of Fox's network coverage (preempting my beloved Steve Edwards and Good Day, L.A.), and Shepard Smith's (or someone that sounded like him) commentary was practically golf-game in its hushed reverence. To paraphrase, he explained, "The eyes of the world are on America today, as it inaugurates its President in a way no other country does." In other words, we throw the biggest party . . . and why not? So long, Circuit City -- you've been replaced with the most successful brand name in recent history: Obama. Are we inaugurating a President or cutting the ribbon on a new Starbucks over there?

How much does Inauguration Day cost, anyway? I'm sure U2 and Bruce Springsteen didn't perform for free, and since tickets are supposed to be free, what covers the cost of logistical arrangement, broadcast preparations, additional security . . .? Of course, I'm asking these questions without doing a lick of research, which, in this context, would make me a great conservative talk show host. Point me toward the closest golden microphone!

I'm grateful Hilary Clinton didn't win (for many reasons), but chew on this: If Hilary was being inaugurated today, only two families would've held Presidential office since 1988, if you exclude Bush, Sr.'s two terms as Vice President. That's practically my entire lifetime, in an American led by only two families: the Bushes and the Clintons. Considering today's ceremony, I'd think less "Hail to the Chief" and more "God Save the Queen." Thankfully, change has come.

Indeed, I'm really as excited for President Barack Obama as the next guy, but I'm less interested in the house warming party and more in his getting to work. True change will be the day a Presidential nominee opts for less pomp in favor of dire circumstance, the day a politician holds up his hands and says, "This isn't about me. Now, where do I clock in?" This is the same day Dr. King's dream is so fulfilled, we don't even have to mention it anymore. Can we get there? Yes, we can . . . dream.

Saturday Night is Alive . . . But Is It Really Living?

On Saturday night, my girlfriend, my best friend, some other friends and I were combing the Arizona desert with flashlights and cordless drills in a treasure hunt (I'll save that one for another post), so I missed the originally airing of Sarah Palin's appearance on Saturday Night Live. Considering the coverage her cameo received in the mainstream media, watching it on Monday afternoon like we did, one would think we were months behind the times, as her performance had already been thoroughly analysed and evaluated, as its ultimate impact on the overall election had already been considered and dissected with the same weight and clarity as any one of the four debates. In fact, Palin's appearance on SNL was something of a debate, with her greatest rival yet -- not Biden, but the media itself, specifically entertainment media. Palin has given the likes of The Daily Show, SNL, and David Letterman so much fodder that one had to wonder (1.) if they could really do it to her face, (2.) if she would give them even more ammunition in their very midst, and (3.) how she should stand up to them, with either a sense of stoicism or a sense of humorous humility. My verdict . . .?

Sarah Palin vs. Saturday Night Live -- Winner: Palin.

Considering the strength of SNL's writing lately, I couldn't tell whether or not they'd put on the kid gloves, but Palin emerged victorious by proving she could dwell in the lion's den and not get her arm chewed off. In fact, I dare say that SNL muzzled its own maw, stifling any true potential for comedy with a dire need to remain relevant in a world where comedy has its own central station, and even where it isn't the only show in the town of Saturday late night. Yes, I dare say MadTV offers a more lighthearted approach to political satire, which keeps its spoofery (I'm trademarking that one) so lighthearted and obnoxious one might forget that Obama and McCain are real people and not exaggerated characters like their classics Stewart or Ms. Swan. Indeed, a squirrely old McCain that frequently asks for his shawl is much more subversive than a Palin lookalike that reiterates the source material with a smirk that’s somehow supposed to make the reality of it all more derisively funny. "Mavericky" isn't a punchline; it's a shortcut. Obama and McCain in a dance-off, which would most likely and ironically receive higher primetime ratings than one of their debates anyway? Hilarious.

Finally, the Palin/SNL faceoff reminded me of another sketch comedy pet peeve. Basically, for years, SNL has been able to make even the most accomplished actor look like a bad high school play thespian, barely able to remember his lines. Alec Baldwin's contribution to the show's opening sketch could've been a show stealer; he confuses the real Palin for Tina Fey and slanders the V.P. candidate while pleading to Lorne Michaels about pitting the two together. His blatant reading of cue cards reminded me of The Simpsons episode with Krusty the Clown saying, "And now my favorite part of the show! What’s that say? Talking to the audience? Aw, this is always death!" Baldwin was just a hiccup away from: "[Palin] represent everything we stand . . . What's that say? Oh, yeah. Against!" Her retort, "Stephen is my favorite Baldwin," was more convincing. Sure, it's only one, easily memorized line, but who's the actor in the room?

Of course, for all of this analysis, I don't think anyone has changed their mind about their Presidential pick based on a few minutes of Saturday Night Live. My only gripe with the whole thing is that SNL comes off like someone should have, that satire shouldn’t just echo reality anymore, but shape it, too. It's a cyclical thing. If the reality of our national situation wasn’t hilarious enough by itself, we really wouldn’t have anything to ridicule in the first place. Unfortunately, in the case of electing the next President, I keep getting the creeping suspicion that we the people are the punchline . . . and I still don't get it.

ADDENDUM: This image is going around on the 'net, and while I wouldn't call it satire, it's absolutely hilarious. Entitled, "Next Season on Dancing With the Stars." Exposes the celebrity in politics, eh!

Fox TV Round-up

Fox, Monday night.

If Prison Break never aired another episode, I’d be completely happy with that.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t dislike the series. In fact, I liked this past season the best. Each season has had its distinguishing characteristics, from the first’s planned escape, to the second’s fugitive treasure hunt, but the third season, dropping Michael and company in the no holds barred, perpetually sweaty Panama, truly tested each enduring character’s real mettle. Watching Lincoln strong arm his way through his brother’s master plan was an exciting exercise in the timeless brains over brawn dilemma, and beholding Bellick’s and Mahone’s “badge syndrome” disintegrate into pure bestial self-preservation was a justified delight two years in the making. Of course, Wentworth’s Scoffield remains the world around which these tough guys orbit, and his emotional stability in the face of frustration and death is admirable -- the most unbelievable element in a world of aligning coincidence and conspiracies. This Panama prison brought out his best and worst, and sans tattooed pre-planning, put his intelligence and integrity to the utmost test. He passed.

So, the season finale, and we have Michael pursuing the conspiracy that framed his brother and killed his beloved. Though many questions are still unanswered, again, I’d be satisfied with this as a resolution, if only to affirm that Scoffield is the kind of guy that always needs a cause. If he, Lincoln, LJ, and Sara rode off into the sunset, I don’t think he’d be happy for long. Come on, this is the guy that tattooed a cryptic blueprint on the better part of his body and help up a bank at gunpoint to save his brother. Can anyone walk away from such a righteous, complicated project and not suffer some post-traumatic stress? Further, Lincoln, LJ, and Sofia look like a nice happy family now, and though Sucrae is back in jail, he wasn’t exactly innocent in the first place. That T-Bag has become the self-proclaimed king of said prison, well, talk about a pig in . . . you know.

If Prison Break fails to pull anything off successfully, it’s increasing tourism for Panama. Based on this season, Panama is one half naïve tourist trap, one half corrupted justice system. I’d hate to short change the guy from whom I’m buying that snow globe -- I’d end up holding T-Bag’s pocket.

Fox, Tuesday night.

American Idol. Last night’s offering of male performers was the worst selection of “top 12” candidates I’ve seen since this show began. First of all, ranging in age from 17 to 29, all of them struck me as incredibly metrosexual, if not blatantly gay. I don’t have a problem with that, but when Simon insists that the purpose of the series is to find a contemporary pop star, he must realize that a homosexual singer couldn’t appeal to widespread mainstream audience. Remember what happened to Clay Aiken when just the rumor of homosexuality clouded his career? He certainly wasn’t invisible, or invincible, or whatever his hit song was . . . and he’s proven the critics wrong by becoming a Broadway star.

Further, is assigning the first night’s performances a ‘60s theme the best way to find a contemporary singer? I’m sick of Simon criticizing singers as “too karaoke” to make it big. Yes, Simon, your whole show is the very definition of karaoke -- vocalists performing to pre-recorded songs performed by a canned studio band. The inclusion of a few guitar players doesn’t elevate Idol to real Hollywood audition status. When it comes to music, I idolize artists that are capable of capturing their emotions via originally written material. By the time Idol gets to its top five contestants, the kids should have to write their own stuff. I guarantee you’ll end up with at least one better than “Since U Been Gone.” At least they’ll take the time to spell the whole word.

I do often agree with Simon’s other critiques, particularly his oft eye rolls toward Paula Abdul. Last night, she praised a singer for his many colors. Listen, Pocahontas, you’re making me wonder if there’s more than Coke in that big red cup of yours, if you’re “seeing” the music. Randy was on Letterman last night praising your new song -- Why don’t you try to become a real idol before judging others’ capabilities? When you sang “Opposites Attract,” were you talking about you and, uhm, talent?

The contestants are obviously over the judges anyway. They got everything they needed from America’s favorite pop culture trinity -- it’s up to us, the voting public, now. Good thing we’re already in a voting mood, what with Obama and McCain whetting our appetite for grander schemes. Now, there’s a couple of men’s men.

Current Events Round-up: Commercial Appeal, Update

The Presidential Elections: Two more thoughts, both highly cynical and ignorant, yet therefore relevant to the current climate of political discourse . . . If Deep Space Nine and the U.S.S. Voyager were ready for a black and a woman leader, respectively, I think 21st century America is, too, but I'd like to see these headline-grabbing candidates run on something more than platitudes. Wil Wheaton, awesome blogger and insightful self-styled geek, referenced his poignant reasons for voting Obama, yet despite the Senator's moving statement, I see it as little more than the national equivalent of a Student Council campaign speech. "I will make every Friday pizza day in the cafeteria! I will permit hand-holding in the hallways! I will support weekly Senior ditch days . . . for everybody!" The whats are sweet, dangling carrots, but the hows are the most important part of the race. Of course, I know a speech about the lengths of policy-making would be boring, but, the bottom line is, despite Clinton's femininity and Obama's ethnicity, the pigeonhole of this election is age. Obama is younger, thus more capable of rallying hope and change. Hey, if it worked for Batman in Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Strikes Again, it works for me, I guess.

Still, if you're like me, your best option is to vote for the candidate capable of providing the theatre of pop culture the most entertainment, which is why California opted for Governor "Ahnold" lo those many years ago, I reckon. "Wouldn't it be cool if the Terminator were governor?" should have been his only campaign platform; it would have been just as effective, and less arduous than sneaking all of those old movie quotes into his speeches. Therefore, since I think the Clintons are the most entertaining in the underdog position, floundering for power rather than simply attaining and abusing it, Obama's my man. His youth and polished appearance might even elicit a blue dress-like scandal of his own someday. See, I knew the Kennedys would relate . . .

Heath Ledger: His cause of death has been revealed. It doesn't change anything. Perhaps he wasn't suicidal, but the means of his end were just as self-inflicted, by no control of the self-inflictor, I presume. Sounds like the guy just wanted a good night's sleep -- the kind of happiness money can't buy.