Maybe it’s my recent Cannes exhaustion but I decided last night that I’m sick to death of the toxic belittlers on this site, particularly the deniers of the woke plague. I’m now therefore actively looking for any reason at all to cancel their presence and send them to hell. Do it, do it…make my day.

Put more gently and reasonably: Life is relatively short, and every five years or so I find myself unable to stand the toxicity, and I lash out. All I know is that I will not tolerate wolverine behavior any further. I’ve been at this racket for just over 40 years, and things have only become toxic over the last 10 or 12 years, it seems. I am a performance artist, yes, in the sense that I adopt a certain persona while writing this column, but mostly I just eyeball things as they seem (to me at least) and describe them as plainly or bluntly as seems fitting.

The uglies know who they are, and they’re about to feel the sword.

Interesting, thoughtful, well-phrased and above all respectful opinions of any kind are eternally welcome here. But the shitheads, mark my words, are getting the boot.

I believe in beauty, redemption, catharsis and the daily cleansing of the soul. I live for the highs of the mind — for the next nervy retort, impertinent crack, witty turn of phrase, turnaround idea or wicked joke.

But I will not permit the infinite array of reflections about life, movies and politics that could and should appear on Hollywood Elsewhere to be suppressed or pushed aside by relentless sneering and personal putdowns.

“These things gotta happen every five years or so, ten years. Helps to get rid of the bad blood. Been ten years since the last one.” — Clemenza to Michael Corleone in Francis Coppola‘s The Godfather (1972).