I Wished I Looked as Smoldering and Pensive in Eye Makeup as Edward Cullan

I'm not one to hate on vampires. They've been through a lot these past thousand years. The whole condemned to darkness, eternal damnation thing seems like it might be difficult - even more difficult than waiting for the next season of "Mad Men." And I love shows like "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," and mildly tolerate "Angel." Underworld was pretty baller, too. But seems like everyone's been bitten nowadays with something I like to call the "VampStamp." That is to say, latching on to a trend that was popular nearly a decade ago, and approaching it with as much creativity and insight as Sarah Palin does with foreign policy.

Case in point: Twilight. I, of all people, am not immune to pop culture phenomena: the Harry Potter series, "Gossip Girl," gaucho pants, and blue eyeshadow. But this is where I draw the line. I justify The Boy Who Lived with intellectual excuse: J.K. Rowling may be a literary magpie, a wordsmith of wile, but she begs, borrows, and steals from credible places. Hidden within all of the expecto millions and marketability, Rowling cleverly embeds references to classical Greek mythology, Celtic legend, and enough pathos and humor to keep the reader interested.
You're, like, totally hotter than my last girlfriend, Buffy.

As a social experiment, I decided to find out what all the fuss was about with the Twilight series. And so, I swallowed my pride as I marched in to Barnes & Noble and marched out with a shiny new copy of Twilight. On the subway ride back to my flat, I read the first chapter. "First Sight." Alright, I said to myself. This could be promising, in a sort of YA-bit-of-guilty-pleasure-to-hide-under-the-bed-when-English-major-friends-come-to-visit way. Like a cookie. Sinfully indulgent. But, as I sat on the L train and read the first few words, ("My mother drove me to the airport...it was 75 degrees in Phoenix...the sky was blue...") I cringed. This was everything - EVERYTHING - I fought so savagely against in my college workshops. Unimaginative, dull, poor writing.

It's every story I have heard before. The estranged and awkward (but appropriately pretty) new girl, Bella, has moved from her warm roots of Phoenix for upstate Washington to live with her father. (Fly Away Home, anyone?) Her new school is unfamiliar and bizarre. She seems out of place, though she manages to find friends to sit with at lunch. She asks one of the girls, Jennifer, about those five svelte hotties with the alabaster skin sitting all alone at a table in the corner. "That's Edward. He's gorgeous!" Jennifer says. Bella and Edward Cullan lock eyes. We know where this is going.

I could not make it past the first chapter. Call me closed-minded, call me a vampire-hating fishmonger, but when books are that obvious, there's little point. Please, humor me, and let me make my educated guesses:

Bella and Edward find they have much in common - mostly, their ridiculous good looks and incredible glow-in-the-dark pallor. Neither of them say much, because when you're that hot, what's the use? Oh, except he's a vampire and wants to suck the lifeblood out of her. Brilliant. Where have we seen this before? Not Joss Whedon's ingenuous "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," no? Of course, there is trouble in paradise, and something keeps Edward and Bella from being together. Insert a dark character shrouded in evil mystery. There's probably a kidnapping, a near-death scare, and a prom thrown in there somewhere.

Maybe I'm as off base as snow in Phoenix. But, maybe not. Does that mean that I'll boycott the film? Probably not. It is my patriotic duty to screen and suggest to you, loyal readers, what is quality and what is not.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to avoid the sun and try and seduce a mysterious man with a pallid complexion.

Quote of the Day: "He's gorgeous!"

If I'm Going to Die, I Want to Die in Manhattan

The storm's been percolating on this season's horizon: each character set up for the grand culmination. Peggy's secret lovechild with Pete; Don's erratic behavior; Betty's gradual liberation from the Stepford Wives; the Campbell's marital problems; Joan's unhappy engagement; Sterling Cooper's merger with Lowe. The Cuban Missile Crisis. The only question is ... what will explode?

This week's episode, "Meditations in an Emergency," is the title of a Frank O'Hara anthology of poetry - a moody, reflective collection that comments on dystopia. The episode certainly reflects upon that notion.

In last week's episode, Betty found that she was spotting. So she goes to see the doctor. Turns out, there is a third Draper bundle of joy on the way. The doctor is curious why Betty isn't delighted, even more so considering an abortion. "I find it hard to believe that a married woman of means is even considering that," he says. Don comes back from his sojourn to California, the prodigal husband. Betty has just finished riding (though the doctor has told her explicitly not to) "I want to be with you," he says. And who has ever resisted a sales pitch that Don Draper has made? Betty Draper, that's who. "Things haven't been that different without you," she says. Score one for the Home Front!

Meanwhile, the ever-ambitious Pete Campbell finds out he's got promoted to Accounts Director, as Duck has been promoted to the new president of Sterling Cooper. It is everything he has wanted. To be the new Don Draper. And, we see Duck's true colors. He has no wife, no life outside of Sterling Cooper; with this new promotion, he is eager to fell the mighty warrior of advertising.

Don's homecoming to Sterling Cooper is not a jubilant one. People no longer down gin like it is going out of fashion, no light-hearted jest, no laughter. People, hunched around the television. Tense radio broadcasts. Whispers of Castro. It is not the effervescent carnival of before.

"Mad Men"'s brilliance lies in the ability to simultaneously alienate and amalgamate - it's off-putting, for instance, that forty years lie between Don Draper and us - to paraphrase Dylan, the times, they have a-changed. But, there is a strange parallel between the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Economic Crisis of today. Though maybe not in the form of an empty Times Square or angry bickering at the local beauty parlor. Worry translates throughout the decades.

The nuts and bolts of the episode belong to the women: Peggy, Joan, Betty. Betty Draper. Betty Draper, Bonnie Parker. What's the difference there? Both are experiencing sexual liberation. In one of my favorite scenes all season, Betty goes to an upscale bar after dropping off the children with Don. A man on the other end of the bar buys her gimlet. "This means he'll come and talk to you," warns the bartender.

"We'll see about that," Betty says, taking off her coat and adjusting her new suit. The vintage McDreamy comes over to woo her, but Betty dismisses him like last year's fashions at Bloomingdale's. "Thank you so much for the drink, I'd just like to enjoy it, if you don't mind."

Back on the home front, Don and the children have ordered room service at his hotel. Sally and Bobby seem nonplussed by all of this...they're just happy they can watch "Leave it to Beaver" and eat burgers in bed.

Cut back to Betty: she asks the bartender to look over her parcels. We think she's just going to the ladies' room, though she lingers outside. McMystery comes back, obscured in shadow. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"I'm waiting," she responds. He opens the door to the back room and looks at her expectantly. "I'm married," Betty says, more as a statement than an excuse not to go in. It's an interesting juxtaposition - Don at "home" with the kids, and Betty being the solicitous adulteress. It's a classic role reversal.

Then, it is time to meet with the new owners of Sterling Cooper. Tempers flare as Duck proposes a more surgical, sterile approach to advertising. "There's more than one way to run a company," Duck says, making a not-so-subtle jab at Don. To Duck, that means buying time on television. Lots and lots of time. To Duck, it's not about the client; it's about what sorts of profit the client can procure. To Duck, it's about what is owed to him. It's clear that his nerve is hanging on a thread, and he makes it known. Poor Duck; not only does he have an unfortunate name and no business prospects, but he's a lightweight.

"No, he never could hold his liquor," says one of the Brits.

The office clears out for the weekend, with some thinking it will be their last. Peggy and Pete are the only two left. So, Pete asks Peggy to stay for a drink, which, of course, leads to talking on the self-same sofa where they engaged in lusty, passionate copywriter passion. "I think you're perfect," Pete confesses, gazing into her eyes. "I wish I'd picked you, then."

You expect Peggy to swoon, you expect her to look at Pete and say that's all she's ever wanted, you expect her to say that there's still time. Peggy's look is hard to interpret. "I could have had you," she finally says. She confesses that she had his child and that she gave him away. Pete's less than dapper response:

"Are you serious?"

"One day you're there, and all of a sudden, there's less of you," Peggy explains. It wasn't in the cards for her to keep that child. She leaves Pete in the emotional equivalent of an atomic bomb being dropped. And you wonder, why can't the Academy Awards apply for television? Because that scene was the stuff of legends.

And Don, content again to be the supportive father and husband he once was, wrote a note to Betty, begging her to take him back ("I'll be alone forever"). So, Betty invites him back to their house in Connecticut. And, what a better way to end. The perfect, Norman Rockwell painting of a family in front of the television. Mother, father, sister, brother. It would be cliche only if you know the backstory; both husband and wife have been with other people, Betty wants an abortion. They're on the brink of oblivion. Their world is crumbling from the inside out.

What, then, is in store for next season? (That is to say, if there will be a new season - AMC has not ordered any more shows as of yet.) I see the repercussion of Joan's rape by her fiancee, daddy issues, mommy issues, the Merger, at a lot more smoking and drinking, to be vague. Suffice it to say that they'll keep us coming back for more.

Way to Normal

In the elusive school of the unwilling, begrudging school of the errant hipster, Ben Folds might just be Dean. Or President. Or the guy who sits in the back of MUS 101 with a scowl on his face aimed at the Jonas Brothers, Miley Cirus, et. al. who seemed to have grasped success more so. And with his third solo album, Way to Normal, Folds flies the flag of the social outcast in Ray Ban's who never quite understood cool. Or didn't want to participate in it.

Fans of Folds will be delighted to hear iconoclastic Folds that Songs for Silverman seemed to sorely lack. From the hard piano rock of "Dr. Yang" to the soulful piano ballads ("Kylie from Connecticut") Anthropological issues are addressed, everything from gender to love to class. In "Free Coffee," Folds laments "when I was broke I needed more/and now that I'm rich I get free coffee." "Effington," like a sequel to "Jesusland," flips the bird to American conventions. The notion to marry, settle down, lead a quite life. "

The two standout tracks ( in my humble opinion, at least) are "Cologne (Piano Orchestra Version)" and "You Don't Know Me," featuring fellow piano prodigy Regina Spektor. The first is haunting in melody and message; semi-autobiographical in nature, a moody Folds decides to end things with his significant other, how they might have been happy if circumstances had been different. Besides being the top iTunes download, "You Don't Know Me" boasts serious indie-pop potential for the "Grey's Anatomy"/"The O.C"/"One Tree Hill"/"Gossip Girl" crowd of complex beats and existential meanings.

Regardless, Folds has proven that the way to normal is not the yellow brick road of promise. Let's hope, for listener's sakes, that it takes Folds many, many more albums before he becomes "Normal."

Quote of the Day: Bitch Went Nuts.

A Show to "Pie" For

"Pushing Daisies" is revived for a thrilling second season.

If, one night, the Brothers Grimm went to a bar and drunkenly went home with Tim Burton, Nancy Drew, and Dr. Seuss, "Pushing Daisies" would be its' awkward offspring. From brainy brawny Bryan Fuller comes forth the fascinating fantasy of Ned the Piemaker (Lee Pace,) a pious person who precipitates people back to life. Such is Ned's tale (narrated by Harry Potter veteran Jim Dales) - to resurrect his childhood crush Chuck (Anna Friel), only to spend the rest of his life wearing bells on his slippers, avoiding the second fatal touch.

That is the premise; perhaps a little kitsch, but Pace and Friel play each flawlessly, with just enough deadpan to counter-act the whimsy. Equally as interesting is the pint-sized Olive Snook (the charming Kristen Chenoweth) who banishes herself to a convent to keep her secrets silent. In homage to The Sound of Music, Chenoweth swirls round and round a mountainous plateau like a blonde Julie Andrews, only to be told "here we value silence." Probably for the best, since Olive is harboring some zingers: that Ned accidentally killed Chuck's father, that Chuck's aunts don't know she's alive...again, that Aunt Vivian is really Chuck's mother.

It would seem, though, that "Daisies"'s producers felt it proper to summarize the entirety of Season 1, as fair-weather viewers will only now be tuning in. The effect seemed haphazard, shoving a savory season one into a To Go bag without the extra condiments or spice. Why not re-air the Emmy-winning "Pie-Lette" rather than recapitulate?

That aside, "Bzzzzzzzz!" presented a strong season premiere, with writers having more time to think about the story in the Writer’s Draught of 2008. No more agoraphobia for Aunts Lily and Vivian, it seems. They are out and about in the town of Cour d’Cour and are ready to live life again. Vivian (Ellen Greene) is the more naïve of the duo, unaware that her sister seduced her husband and a little bundle of joy in the form of Chuck resulted nine months later. Lily (Swoosie Kurtz) haunts Olive like indigestion from a bad slice of boysenberry pie, even to confessional. (The quote “Forgive me, Father, for I don’t like to be poor” is a smiley surprise).

And what of the weekly morgue investigations? More gruesome every time, this week’s victim, Kentucky Fitz (Autumn Reeser) is covered by livid bee-induced welts. And after Ned kills (or re-dead’s) her, a swarm of bees explodes from her mouth. Things are getting stranger, more bizarre. It makes you wonder when the mortician will interject more than the brilliant, “Mmmmm hmmmm” every time the Scooby Gang investigates a crime.

There are a few cosmic questions left unanswered: how much longer can this innocent It Happened One Night romance play out between Ned and Chuck? Eventually, they’ll have to touch, or at least try to. And then what? What about Olive obtaining a porky friend named “Pigby” to replace the canine one of “Digby”? And what of the strange juxtaposition of Emerson Cod (Chi McBride)? First, he’s a P.I., then he knits tea cozies for stress, next he makes pop-up books to find his daughter, what will he do next? His character most of all seems the most inconsistent.

For now, though, I’m stuck to this sweet forensic fairy-tale like Chuck’s fingers are after tending to her many beehives.

Bethertainment Weekly Grade: A-

Quote of the Day: Ned: “If I could breathe, I would vomit,” when Ned thinks Chuck’s aunts have seen her alive and well at the Pie Hole.

I Couldn't Find Waldo in Beijing's Closing Ceremonies

Fireworks. Wall dancers. Behemoth LCD screens. The Chinese version of the Death Star. Arguably more spectacle and theatrics than a production of Les Miserables. Yes, the Closing Ceremonies of the 29th Olympiad have come and gone, leaving the world with the warm glow of universalism and the fuzzy feeling of a global community. But what of the next four years? How will London prepare for such a daunting task?



Good question. You might want to ask them. But, if not - here's the plan in a London-sized nutshell. East London will be transformed - specifically, the Lower Lea Valley, a location which has "great untapped potential," according to the site. More than 200 buildings will be demolished to accommodate this task to make room for the Olympic Park, from an Aquatic Centre to Olympic Stadium, and the Velodrome. . And, after the Olympics have ended, the site will be metamorphosed to Europe's largest urban park.

The green may be good, but the gold is better, as the saying goes.

Maybe it doesn't. But it should.

Thought of the Day: I, too, was not ordained "cute enough" by the American government to publish this post. It has been type-synced so the optimal amount of cuteness has been reached.

Mad about Mad Men

Imagine you are sitting a smoky bar in Manhattan. It's 1960, and you are fabulous and drinking a martini, with a Lucky Strike cigarette hanging nonchalantly from your fist like some Humphrey Bogart. The terror of the Cold War has passed, the nightmare of Vietnam is nothing more than a vague whisper: you are rich and fabulous and work on Madison Avenue at Sterling Cooper Advertising Agency.

You are Donald Draper, Mad Man.

But things are more than they seem: Draper, the creative force behind successful ad campaigns, must deal with Peter Campbell (Vincent Kartheiser), the newlywed Account Exec who nips at his heals; his alcoholic boss Roger Sterling (John Slattery), and - of course - his own infidelity with his ex-model wife, Betty (January Jones). In this world of smoke and mirrors, people are naive to health risks (Betty's pregnant friend smokes heavily, Merlot in hand), easy to judge (the new divorcee who shamefully works at a local jewelry store), and slow to forgive (insert any number of unfaithful spouses).

Into this world comes wide-eyed Peggy Olson (Elisabeth Moss), fresh from secretarial school. She quickly learns to keep her mouth shut, to show and not tell, and to type 70 words a minute. This is no small town.


After watching the first season, it's no wonder this behemoth of a show snagged a staggering 16 Emmy nods. Each episode is a rich, 42-minute movie, complete with stunning cinematography, painstakingly accurate attire (down to the rather pointy underpinnings), and witty dialog. It's incredible what strides feminism has taken in the past 45 years. On Peggy's first day, Pete Campbell comments how she should show more leg. Housewives are meant to stay home and dutifully raise the children while the wily men live their fabulous Manhattan lives. And let's talk about Draper himself, brilliantly played by Jon Hamm. Never is it overdone, never too much. When he pitches, you believe he knows what he's selling, and he'd throw himself from the roof of Sterling-Cooper to prove it.

So, grab a Smirnoff, some stunning lipstick from a basket of kisses, and a Lucky Strike cigarette, and watch perhaps the best period drama to hit television. Ever.

Networks, Expounded

Stations have always (and I use this term lightly, since always implicates infinite existence) been giving themselves aesthetic face lifts. Things to make them pretty. Shiny, even. But what's in a network? What is the signature thing that makes someone say, "Oh, that's an ABC show, right?" Just what I was wondering. Let's investigate, shall we?


ABC
American Broadcasting Company.

Known Best For: Endearing dramadies, heart-warming home renovations, crazy islands outside of the space-time continuum, wipe-outs
Famous Faces: Meredith Grey's whiny self-indulgent mug ("Grey's Anatomy"), Ty Pennington ("Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," Sears commercials), Scared and/or nervous people from "LOST," Mickey Mouse.
Catchphrase: "Start Here."
Underrated Show: "Pushing Daisies." No matter what Entertainment Weekly pundits have to say about it.
Shiny Factor: Invented

NBC
National Broadcasting Company

Known Best For: Deadpan comedies, Laws and Orders, The Olympics, More Reality TV, Conan.
Famous Faces: Michael Scott (Steve Carell of "The Office"), Ann Curry, Liz Lemon/Tina Fey ("30 Rock").
Catchphrase: "Must See TV."
Underrated Show: "Chuck." It's cute and cuddly and nerdy and is available on a Friday night. What more do you want?
Shiny Factor: Flashy as a peacock.



CBS
Columbia Broadcasting System
Known Best For: Demeaning Reality Television, Moderately Good Sitcoms, A Lot of Crime Shows
Famous Faces: The sad little children exploited for "Kid Nation"
Most Underrated Show: "Jericho," and also: "Twin Peaks."
Catchphrase: Let's See Who Next to Exploit.