Dan Savage to Bill Maher around 5:05: “There’s no such thing as a blue state — there are red states with big blue cities in them. What Democrats have to do is unapologetically be the party of urban America the way Republicans are unapologetically the party of depopulated America, the party of rural America, exurbs and suburbs. If more people had turned out in the cities, Donald Trump would have never won the election. Democrats need to stop chasing voters they’re never going to get. Sending John Kerry out to shoot something with a gun right before the election didn’t win him any votes in knuckle-dragged America.”

I hate the hyphen, for one thing. I hate that they’re rebooting Spider-Man for the second damn time. I hate the idea of paying to see a film that is entirely about drooling corporate hunger. I hate the obliging whore instinct that played a part in the current 94% RT score. What’s in it for me to sit through this thing? Maybe a little amusement or diversion, but how long is this Marvel Comic Universe shit going to continue? You know the answer. Until people start saying “Fuck Kevin Feige…I’m bored and I’m done.” I just don’t want to see Spider-Man: Homecoming. I really, really don’t. Who’s with me? That was a joke. The studios crank out another and the herd comes right over and starts slurping. I’ve loved a few Marvel flicks but c’mon, man…enough. Okay, I’ll come back for Ant Man 2 if Peyton Reed directs, and for Black Panther. But you know even Black Panther is gonna be more or less the same old slop in the trough.

I tried to hang this IKEA kitchen storage thing in the proper way. I measured everything six ways from Sunday, and then oh-so-carefully drilled the two holes, inserted the anchors, re-measured and eyeballed the damn thing and whirred the screws into the wall. Tweaking, adjusting. It’s very hard to do this right if you’re all alone. Did I use a level? No, but I kept eyeballing it over and over…this angle, that angle, standing back, tilting my head. Don’t go by this photo — it’s very close to being perfectly level. Alas, my eye is telling me “nope, it’s off by a just a scosche.” Fuck it — I raised the right side with a couple of finishing nails. Now it’s fine.

If only the Americans who are too dumb or deranged to see what’s happening to this nation under Donald Trump (backwater dumbshits, arch-conservative banshees like NRA spokeswoman Dana Loesch, etc.)…if only these lunatics would listen to Neil Young‘s “Children of Destiny“, their minds would start to change and the general tide of rightwing insanity would start to recede, thus paving the way for a Congressional turnaround in ’18, which would presumably be followed by Trump’s impeachment. Incidentally: Whatever happened to Young’s Pono player?

You don’t have to be an incorrigibly dull, low-wattage flatline type to wake up this weekend and say “let’s go see Despicable Me 3!” But it would help. For those with a passing interest in what’s really happening at the movies over the Independence Day holiday, the only thing to talk about is Baby Driver. 

Jett caught an Arclight showing yesterday afternoon (he tried for The Big Sick but it was sold out) and loved it. “You liked the ending, the last 15 or so?” I asked, somewhat incredulous. Yeah, he said. “But you’re a huge Drive fan!” I countered. “That was a different thing,” Jett replied. “This is a kind of satire of Drive with a La La Land attitude.”

What’s the verdict from the HE first-wavers who caught it last night or the night before? Deadline is projecting a five-day Baby box-office of $27 or $28 million.

Weddings are often described as joyous, touching, festive, life-affirming and maybe a bit nerve-wracking, at least in terms of pre-ceremonial jitters. But yesterday’s ceremony at La Piedra state beach — Tatyana, myself and wedding maestro Chris Robinson of oficiantguy.com — was mostly peaceful. We just did it, no prob. Smiles and serenity. The sea, blue skies, bright sun and mild breezes cooperated perfectly. We didn’t actually do the deed until 4 pm. Traffic from Sunset and PCH to central Malibu was beyond ridiculous, and the way down to the beach wasn’t a path as much as a challenge for mountain goats. But man, it was perfect. The post-nuptial celebration (including my son Jett, Svetlana and David, longtime attorney pally Mark Kane) happened at The Little Door.

You can dismiss what Richard Clarke is saying here about cyber Russian invasions (not ’16 as much as ’18 and 2020) and sea-level rise and Trump’s seeming indifference to both. Go ahead, ignore the former anti-terrorism czar who specifically warned the Bushies about Osama bin Laden‘s plans for attacking the U.S., etc.