The best documentary of the year so far, hands down. One of the best of the century, no lie. Plays like a suspense thriller and a poem at the same time.

A Robocop-era outtake of Gene Siskel and Rogert Ebert, to wit: “He asked the McDonald’s girls if he could have apple pie with his order before they asked him! Wants some salad with your apple pie? They worked through the whole fucking menu! He ordered every fucking thing they have!” (YouTube clip stolen/copied from Patrick Goldstein‘s bloggy-blog…I think. I still can’t tell the difference between the blog and the weekly dead-tree “Big Picture” column because those lazy-ass Times designer guys can’t be bothered to create a real stylistic distinction.)

An unnamed major film critic recently asked a journalist friend about “that Kevin Costner baseball movie.” Baseball movie? “Yeah,” the critic said. “It’s Costner doing the usual jowly working-class schlub thing…what, it’s not a baseball movie?” No, he was told. My friend then said to the critic, “You know, if someone like you — a film critic who ostensibly keeps up — isn’t getting what this movie is about, the marketing for Swing State is doing something wrong.” I’m sorry — Swing Vote!

Wilshire Blvd. near Gayley, heading east — 7.22.08, 10:55 pm.

Santa Monica’s Montana Avenue near 16th Street — 7.22.08, 8:45 pm.