Jeffrey Wells

Kamala Harris! What a wounded showhorse of a vice-president, not to mention the target of a devastating profile that will almost certainly make things worse all around. The N.Y. Times reporter, Astead W. Herndon, is a sharp-minded dude of color who doesn’t miss a trick, and he clearly has issues with her.

Five words: Herndon’s portrait is not flattering.

Kamala is basically seen as mostly a recipient of good luck and fortunate timing — a beneficiary of racial-political largesse, a diversity hire with nothing especially dynamic under the hood, a blah and brittle vp with no defining visionary issue apart from the usual incremental wonky talking points, and no personal charisma or rhetorical pizazz. A soporific, eyes-glazed-over spouter of “word salads.” A testy, defensive tactician whom no one outside of one key demographic and identity group — black females — really likes.

Plus she’s an absolutely dreadful public speaker with a weak, whiny voice and no sense of musical rhythm in her phrasings. Plus she’s quite short (5’2”) — the word is actually elfin. Plus there’s no ignoring the fact that aside from that one moment when she attacked Joe Biden over busing, Kamala never began to connect as a presidential candidate in ‘19 and early ‘20. Plus she sheds senior staffers left and right. Plus there’s that cackle. Plus she reportedly devotes huge blocks of time to her hair. (Okay, that’s a cheap shot.)

She’s basically a drip-drip, slow-motion, can’t-sell-it implosion who terrifies many democrats and is obviously an easy target for righties.

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Spike Lee in recent Washington Post interview:

HE (i.e., me) several weeks ago:

Down here on earth, the RT consensus is that David Gordon Green‘s The Exorcist: Believer is a stinker.

I love Lily Gladstone’s Montana shitkicker accent, and especially the way she pronounces the last name of her Osage Nation character (“BURRKhahrt”) and the word “murders” (“merrduhhrrrs“). Born in ’86 and raised on the Blackfeet Nation reservation in Browning, Montana, Gladstone is an authentic country gal…talks it, owns it…forget the coasts.

From yesterday’s “I’m Not Kidding About Barbie vs. Poor Things” thread:

Friendo notes similarities between Barbie (as played by Margot Robbie) and Bella (i.e., Emma Stone’s character in Poor Things):

1. Both are manufactured creations — Barbie built by Mattel, Bella built Mary Shelley-style by Willem “Scarface” Dafoe. And as such, both are wholly innocent as they begin their journeys.
2. Both are abused by men — Bella blatantly by her cruel, misogynist Londön husband during her first life, Barbie by being infantilized and otherwise diminished or pigeonholed by her Mattel creators.,
3. Both learn hard lessons about the real world.
4. Both acquire social justice awareness during film (awakening/awokening)
5. Both are vag-centric, vag-obsessed — “What’s this thing between my legs”?
6. Both female leads are pretty.
7. Both films feature terrific dance sequences.
8. Both films feature brilliant sets, costumes, makeup,
9. Both films diminish masculinity, reward wimpy background males.
10. Both have fun with meta humor.
11. Both Barbie and Bella trick & transform stupid male characters into falling for this or that.
12. At the end Barbie and Bella choose to live and thrive in the real world, empowered & surrounded by women.

All hail Marty’s St. Crispin’s Day clarion call, but in terms of mainstream theatrical venues the game hasn’t just been lost but forfeited, starting around the dawn of the Obama era.

I’m hugely grateful that elite cinema havens (Metrograph, Film Forum, Jacob Burns in Pleasantville, New Plaza, Elinor Bunin Monroe, Netflix Plaza, BAM, Alamo, Angelika) are part of our NYC-area culture, and that elevated film festivals (NYFF, Tribeca, Montclair, Woodstock) are still going concerns. But over the last 15 years or so the moronic masses have made their position clear.

As far as the megaplex gladiator arenas are concerned (excluding the odd-but-welcome Nolan-brand detour that was Oppenheimer), your average Millennial or Zoomer schlubbo is averse to paying through the nose for “cinema” in a theatre. I wish it were otherwise but apps and streaming are carrying the ball these days.

This isn’t to say that classic Marty-style cinema shouldn’t be “fought” for but…

Since she began talking a few months ago and using this and that nickname, 22-month-old Sutton has referred to Joey as “Jo-Jo.”’ Yesterday morning, only a few hours after Joey’s sudden passing, she asked the above.

I was three when the reality of pet death sank in. Here’s what happened.

From The Sun‘s Joe Morgan, four highly persuasive simulations of four dead super-celebs — 88 year-old Elvis Presley (born on 1.8.35), 62 year-old Diana Spencer, 77 year-old Freddie Mercury and 87 year-old Marilyn Monroe.

Micah Daigle is the AI designer. Excellent work.

No sociopaths allowed. George was warned to leave Kristi Coulter alone. He went right ahead and slagged her anyway. That’s it — game over.

Here’s what did it: