|THE BLACK LIST: LET'S GET BACK TO BUSINESS, SHALL WE?|
|By The Black Table|
It's perfectly natural that we would all be suffering from Republican National Convention fatigue. It's gone, great, now let's get back to life. But we must admit, after the long Labor Day weekend, we barely even remember that it was here? Was it here? Did it really happen? Did Bush really speak? How'd that guy get elected, anyway? Did THAT really happen?
The convention has long since passed. The election will be here before we know it. And we're still not sure who all the nominees are. Is Arnold running? Did we read that right?
Anyway, we're gonna try to clear our head after the weekend, and nothing does a better job with that than the Black List. We've got 11 reviews this week. We need more, or our lives will be empty and without relevance. So use the form to the right!
REBOUND SEX: Dude, there's a reason I'm wearing my sluttiest red tank top, with hair out-to-here, acting like I've had one too many shots. I mean, I have had one too many shots, but I know exactly what I'm doing and that's why I targeted you an hour earlier when I walked into the bar. You're cute but not threateningly so, those black-rimmed glasses are sexy, and you were checking me out, too. Sure, sure, I'll stay the night, and I'll give you my cell phone number -- but please don't call. Let's just let tonight be what it was: the easiest way for me to put sexual distance between myself and my cold-hearted no-good bastard of an ex-boyfriend. A- -- Mayna B.
FOX NEWS STUDIOS: It smells like mildew. For all its thundering opulence, Fox News is a ghetto operation featuring with the worst green room in news-stale donuts and coffee. It's populated by cheery PA's happily inebriated by proximity to all-powerful television cameras, quiet union crew and abrasive talent with too-little-chicken like skin pulled over too much bone and eyes that quiver in fear with the singular thought "Must feed the ratings beast with platitudes and divisive babble". And I'm not any better, willing to sell out what I believe for some early morning face time droning about whatever some producer in DC tells me too. I think we're all pals, naive, stupid me and these entitled, conservative cunts. As I loiter side stage, comfortable in their ego-stroking grasp and seconds before airtime, they tell me they're introducing me as a writer for a show that I was once involved with in an online capacity -- but they want to misrepresent me as a former big wig. Why? To bleed some
second's worth of slander about a liberal leaning show out of me, make-up slathered me? Thank God no one was watching me but a handful of apocalyptically frigid soccer moms and a couple bitter, faithless salesmen rotting in an airport at 11 in the morning. Thank God I had qualified their cheap lies on air. They decide. They report. I can't wait to go back. B+ -- John DeVore
CINDY ADAMS: Conservatives, telemarketers and perpetrators of smooth jazz notwithstanding, I don't make a habit of hating people I don't know. Enter New York Post columnist Cindy Adams, an impressive low for gossip writers, overindulgent small dog owners and anyone concerned for the health of the English language. Though I don't expect someone who got her job by virtue of acquaintance with the Shah and Imelda Marcos to hit me with poetry, honey, don't boldface the name of your Yorkie in proud sentence fragments about how it crapped on your floor. Even Post readers deserve better. F -- lauren
NEW ANTI-DEFAMATION LEAGUE ADS: Plastered on every corner of Manhattan is the new ADL ad campaign. Look! It's a young Asian boy with the quote "Anti-Semitism is Anti-Me." Hmm. Is it though? Really? Oh! There's Naomi Campbell with the same quote, "Anti-Semitism is Anti-Me." And of course, my personal favorite, a butch lesbian sporting a priest's collar, declaring "Anti-Semitism is Anti-Me." WHA?!?!? This is nonsense. How about "Anti-Semitism is growing up in rural Virginia" or "Anti-Semitism is Mel Fucker Gibson and his looney-tune father." F -- Catherine W.
CITY COUNCIL MEMBERS WHO LIKE LOUD MUSIC: Don't get me wrong, city council people are more than welcome to like to play their music loudly. That can even make them "cool" and "hip" and "with it". But city council members who live underneath me and who play their music 24 hours a day seven days a week and make my floor shake with the bass deserve to be taken into the street and whipped with rubber hoses. Then removed from office. And given a cardboard box to live in. I mean really -- set an example people. F -- Natalie Murray
SARAH JESSICA PARKER WEARS GAP?: I won't say that Sex and the City wasn't huge, but hasn't it been over for half a year? Sure, I know a cultural event when I'm bludgeoned over the head by its maxi-pad pink subway ads, but that still doesn't explain why Sarah Jessica Parker is modeling for Gap. Is she already that strapped for cash? When did horse-faced, age-denying, anorexic women over 40 represent a serious shopping demographic for Gap? It's not like "SJP" ever wore any clothing on her stupid show valued under $500.00, except for that nasty (it may look sexy to the bored shut-in, but chafing, people, chafing!) rhinestone studded thong from D&G's section of Fredericks of Hollywood. How is this meant to influence me? I look at her Gap ensemble, pearls and much overrated Manolos, and here's what it says to me: If you want to look really fucking spooky this fall, shop Gap! D -- P.F.
REALIZING NYC HAS TURNED ME INTO AN ASSHOLE: I was visiting with family/friends in Philadelphia over Labor Day Weekend and realized I have become what I most dread -- a New York Asshole. Standing on a street in Old City trying to figure out plans sent me into a snappish frenzy. Watching a bar tender chat up a customer for minutes as the clocked ticked closer and closer to closing time got me so agitated that my friend told me to sit down. Then he said what I knew was true but never articulated: "New York is getting to you. You've got to relax." It's taken nearly five years for this to happen, so I figured I was immune. Alas, no. I am impatient. Others irritate me. These feelings of contempt toward my fellow man used to be limited to the five boroughs. But now I'm taking the animosity on the road. I don't like acting or feeling this way, so it seems the only cure is to get out of town. There's a lot of deprogramming ahead. D -- Aileen Gallagher
YELLOWCARD'S VIOLINIST: I'm sure these fellas throw down with the best of their pseudo-emo ilk, but it's Violin Guy who's gonna ring this band's death knell. Enough with the bouncing, Violin Guy! Every overzealous leap draws your inevitable expiration date closer. I mean, I know it may not look like it now, what with the heavily rotating video, massive tour bus and green rooms stocked with your own ice cold Yoo-Hoo. But trust me on this: Violins are not a cool Top-40-band accessory. The exception to the rule, of course, is Boyd Tinsley. But even Boyd learned early on to hang back, chill and wait for the right moment to shine. In fact, on "Tripping Billies," Dave took to calling out Boyd's cue to rock out. I can assure you, though, Boyd never did bounce. C- -- keith h.
BILL SIMMONS' TAKE ON INDIANS 22, YANKEES 0: Most Red Sox fans are big pains in the ass. They whine and bitch and bitch and whine about how their team is going to break their hearts -- again -- but as soon as the Olde Towne Team goes on a little bit of a run, they get in Yankee fans' faces and tell them how much of a "wicked hurtin'" the Sawx are going to put on the Bombers. No sense of caution, no idea that 86 years of history might not be wrong. The only rabid Sox fan I can stomach is Bill Simmons of ESPN.com. His column on the Yanks' horrible game against the Indians and their lead slippage in the AL East was thoughtful, gave great analysis of both teams and came out cautiously optimistic that Boston could prevail (I don't agree with Bill, but that's just my Yankee fandom talking). If only Bob Ryan, Dan Shaughnessy, or Mike Lupica could write sports columns like this ... I might actually buy a newspaper again. A -- Joel Keller
BILL SIMMONS' "FIVE-DAY-A-WEEK" UPDATING STATUS: We're all glad you're back from the Jimmy Kimmel show and working full time at ESPN, Bill, we really are. But the seams are already showing; you're spreading yourself too thing. Merely updating the quote of the day on your page does NOT count as an update. The ongoing movie review section smacks of filler. Your intern is extremely annoying. Oh, and hey, listen: We love Chuck Klosterman. Always have. But your dialogue from last week brought out the worst in both of you guys. I know you both love The Real World and The Karate Kid. But enough already; we love pop culture too, but we're going into sugar shock here. Oh, and this is the worst sentence you have ever written: "Is there anything more elusive and confusing than the writing process?" What? You sound like a freshman in Short Story Writing 105. And while I'm bitching, what you pulled with Football Outsiders -- the football fan site was doing a tribute to your writing, just like it did with Gregg Easterbook and Peter King, but you contacted them and screamed at them to stop it, accusing them of trying to "cock block" your writing - was pretty bush league, man. Listen, we like you. We're glad to have you back. But let's stop being so insecure and step it up a bit, all right? C -- Will Leitch
CHECKING OUT A HOT CHICK WHILE YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW IS THERE (AND YOU'RE A GIRL): OK, so there we were -- my husband, my mother-in-law and me -- in the vintage-clothing store. And, probably for the first time ever, my husband and I ended up checking out the same very nice-looking store clerk. My husband knew. I knew. The clerk knew (because grown adults generally don't stammer over an answer to "how can I help you," trying desperately not to say, "newly bisexual, and you?"). Did my mother-in-law? One can only hope not. On the plus side, I did get a great gunmetal-blue leather trench coat for $35. C+ -- Stacie
Each and every week, Black Table readers like you write the Black List and get absolutely nothing in return. Ain't that some shit.