If a person complains about the recent rash of smash-and-grab robberies, does this mean the complainer is racist?

There was a smash and grab robbery at Westfield Sherman Oaks yesterday afternoon pic.twitter.com/4PTzPqUiQG

— Downtown LA Scanner (@DowntownLAScan) August 25, 2023

My 7-day Avis rental isn’t exorbitant but I’d rather pay less. I hate the idea of shelling out $700 or thereabouts (including gas) for two six-hour drives (Albuquerque to Telluride and back again) with the car just plotzing in a parking lot for six days (Wednesday afternoon, 8.30 to Tuesday morning, 9.5). The 50th annual Telluride Film Festival runs five days this year — starting Thursday, 8.31 and ending on the evening of Monday, 9.4.

Yesterday I thought I’d post an offer on Ride.Guru. What the hell.

At the very least the late Bob Barker deserves respect for career longevity. Born on 12.12.23, he started as a radio show host in the early 50s, hosted Truth of Consequences from 1956 to 1975, and The Price Is Right from 1972 (three year overlap with Truth) to 2007.

Barker retired in ’07 at the age of 84. He passed earlier today at age 99. Good genes, good health, quick mind.

One-eighth Sioux and a member of the Sioux tribe, Barker spent a good portion of his youth on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in Mission, South Dakota.

Did he ever stand with his people against the evil of Mount Rushmore and Alfred Hitchcock‘s completely reprehensible exploitation of same in North by Northwest (’59)?

Sometime last spring I bought a relatively inexpensive pair of Sony wireless headphones. Nothing special but good enough. Six or seven weeks ago they disappeared. Being the occasionally-absent-minded-professor type, I sometimes leave things of value in cafes, libraries, movie theatres, 7-11 stores, etc. I checked and called around everywhere but couldn’t find the damn things.

So after a brief period of mourning I bought a pair of black Apple “Dr. Dre” beats. A bit more costly than the Sonys but very nice to have.

Yesterday I was driving north on Wilton’s Route 7 when the car in front of me (a sensible Volvo wagon) abruptly slammed on the brakes…dead stop. I naturally slammed my own a millisecond later. After recovering from the trauma (it could be been a serious banger if I hadn’t reacted as quickly as I did) I looked down and saw the effing Sony headphones. They’d been under the driver’s seat the whole time. I’d checked the car top to bottom during my initial search, but obviously not thoroughly enough.

Now I have two pairs. Maybe Sutton would like the Sonys — they’re relatively new.

I don’t want to draw too many analogies between the sagas of Donald Trump and James Cagney‘s Cody Jarrett. Both are sociopaths, of course, but the world is full of those. It struck me yesterday that Trump appears to be going through a kind of last-stand defiance that resembles Jarrett’s during the final five minutes of White Heat (’49).

“They think they’ve got Cody Jarrett,” Cagney says with a kind of madman chuckle. “They haven’t got Cody Jarrett!”

Either you know these six scary words like the back of your hand as well as what movie they’re from and what they mean, or you don’t.

From a Beyond The Frame article on Roman Polanski‘s Rosemary’s Baby (’68), written by David E. Williams and posted on 3.29.17:

This 47-minute Criterion Collection documentary about the making of Rosemary’s Baby is drop-dead brilliant — a huge turn-on about a perfectly made film. I’ve been watching this 1968 classic for over half a century. Easily among the best horror flicks ever made, and one of the best films of any genre or era, directed by anyone or anyhoo.

If you haven’t seen the Criterion doc, please remedy that. Now, for example.

Paramount’s Rosemary’s Baby 4K disc (shitty jacket art) arrives on 10.10.23.

It’s two-day-old water under the bridge and not that big of a deal, but Carlos Santana folded like a coward. He said it straight and plain like any doctor or biologist or sane human would have said it prior to the Crazy Town takeover, and then his nervous nelly manager and agent got to him (i.e., read him the riot act) and he recanted like a good widdle boy.

Yes, Ozzy Osbourne actually bit a bat’s head off –a cruel and atrocious act. Bats deserve as much of a shot at health and happiness as any other species. I’m sorry but I feel much closer right now to Carlos the pussy than Ozzy the biter.

Deadline update: