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Vicious Murder Now Quickest Path to Instant CelebrityJune 24, 2002 |
Network talent scouts are quick on the scene of the debut of next year's breakout star. n the past, the best way to become a celebrity overnight was to do something remarkable in a relatively short period of time. The old joke was even that it takes 10 years for an actor, writer, comedian, entertainer in any field to become an overnight success. Now some overnight successes are becoming celebrities practically overnight.
The popularity of murderers has grown significantly in recent years. Basic cable crime shows like The Discovery Channel's The New Detectives and The Justice Files have demonstrated the public's fascination with both alleged and convicted criminals, as well as our hunger for real crime stories. Now, new shows on NBC and ABC are bringing the murderers right into our home, allowing us a first-hand look-see at someone else's horrible p...
n the past, the best way to become a celebrity overnight was to do something remarkable in a relatively short period of time. The old joke was even that it takes 10 years for an actor, writer, comedian, entertainer in any field to become an overnight success. Now some overnight successes are becoming celebrities practically overnight.
The popularity of murderers has grown significantly in recent years. Basic cable crime shows like The Discovery Channel's The New Detectives and The Justice Files have demonstrated the public's fascination with both alleged and convicted criminals, as well as our hunger for real crime stories. Now, new shows on NBC and ABC are bringing the murderers right into our home, allowing us a first-hand look-see at someone else's horrible pain. On shows like NBC's Crime & Punishment and ABC's State V., viewers are taken from the legal beginning of an actual murder trial to its inevitable legal conclusion, all within the span of an hour. Now the messiness of following a long-lasting court case is made more convenient for fans of true crime death and mayhem.
"We take the majority of the trial, edit it down to the juicy bits, and pop it in after Just Shoot Me or something for some easy high ratings," said some person in the President of NBC's office. "And who knows? If everything works out, we'll be getting the first big glimpse at one of tomorrow's major media stars."
Even without major ratings success, the shows already have a significant improvement over fictional shows in their cheap production costs. Shows about true court cases require neither writers nor paid on-screen talent; and, in contrast to the news department, traveling is limited to the continental United States. The country's interest is only in domestic murderers, foreign murderers with subtitles have yet to capture America's imagination. Also, there's much fewer of them.
According to some industry analysts, the true crime court trial show could be bigger than the Survivor and Who Wants to Be A Millionaire? fads, even a new dominating genre of shows.
"We've been heading toward this for years now," said Court-TV correspondent Mickey "Dutch" McMichaels. "First there were the ratings for the O.J. Simpson trial. After that, we've been covering various trials intently, the biggest ones or the most brutal or the strangest cases. And not just day-by-day trial updates. We're talking camera-in-the-courtroom or extensive court record accounts. Showing full or partial testimony, still pictures and drawings, even dramatizations. I think I saw David Schwimmer playing John Wayne Bobbitt somewhere, maybe before Friends was a big hit."
Celebrity court cases like those for O.J. Simpson, Robert Blake, even lesser offenses like for Robert Downey, Jr. are already proven successes; but in addition, court cases are making new celebrities of their own. Like Andrea Yates, alleged Daniel Van Dam murderer David Westerfield, and Thomas Junta, the infamous "hockey dad" who murdered a fellow father at one of his son's games. It may have taken longer than expected, but the major networks are finally bringing the public what it wants: more murder stories and more murderers, right after or before their favorite "fake" murder shows, like C.S.I. and Law & Order.
"It's a complex story, with heroes and villains, with victims, a beginning, middle, and end, especially with these new shows that wrap it up in an hour," said McMichaels. "Plus, since it's real, you feel like you've watched real news without all the boring parts like world events and politics affecting our country."
As the style of popular shows change, say industry insiders, so will the kind of celebrities. The stars of tomorrow are planning their murders today.
McMichaels agreed. "If I were a washed-up actor in need of a big hit, like Burt Reynolds or Andrew McCarthy, I'd stop reading tired old scripts and start reading In Cold Blood," he said, referring to some book or something. the commune news is available with everything seen here, figures sold separately. Ramon Nootles is a commune correspondent and the rumor around the office is he'll be the first to go when we downsize. That's just what we heard.
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 November 26, 2001
Volume 8Dear commune:
Ed Phillips here again. I was in the midst of another college prank, trying to see how many people I could squeeze in my Yugo when the cops came down on me hard, those punks. As usual, they didn't understand and were very forceful in arresting me, although I told them, to be fair, I didn't kill any of them myself.
With all the terrorism and crap happening lately, I can sort of understand why the overreaction. So many Americans are willing to relinquish a little bit of freedom to make themselves feel safer. I, however, am not. How do we strike a balance? Do I have to write a signed letter with a notary public signature or something to verify that I am willing to sacrifice any security at all in order to retain all my freedoms? If that's the case, I would also like to sacrifice the current security I have in order to gain new freedoms other Americans do not enjoy.
If it sounds good to you, I'd prefer to be shot at maybe once or twice a day in order to enjoy legalized marijuana. If I could have sex with underage teenage girls without repercussions you could go ahead and give like three or four of them some serious disease or a huge boyfriend, that would give me pretty good odds, I think. I'm also looking for a way to commit a murder here or there, but I'm not sure what I can sacrifice, maybe you could serve me some bad undercooked pork or something real dangerous.
I have to go as I just made bail, God bless mom and that...
º Last Column: Volume 7 º more columns
Dear commune: Ed Phillips here again. I was in the midst of another college prank, trying to see how many people I could squeeze in my Yugo when the cops came down on me hard, those punks. As usual, they didn't understand and were very forceful in arresting me, although I told them, to be fair, I didn't kill any of them myself. With all the terrorism and crap happening lately, I can sort of understand why the overreaction. So many Americans are willing to relinquish a little bit of freedom to make themselves feel safer. I, however, am not. How do we strike a balance? Do I have to write a signed letter with a notary public signature or something to verify that I am willing to sacrifice any security at all in order to retain all my freedoms? If that's the case, I would also like to sacrifice the current security I have in order to gain new freedoms other Americans do not enjoy. If it sounds good to you, I'd prefer to be shot at maybe once or twice a day in order to enjoy legalized marijuana. If I could have sex with underage teenage girls without repercussions you could go ahead and give like three or four of them some serious disease or a huge boyfriend, that would give me pretty good odds, I think. I'm also looking for a way to commit a murder here or there, but I'm not sure what I can sacrifice, maybe you could serve me some bad undercooked pork or something real dangerous. I have to go as I just made bail, God bless mom and that bake sale. I'll be mailing this on the way home and thinking up some good freedoms I'd like to get as well as securities I don't really need. Ed Phillips Hackensack, NJ
Dear commune: I have recently discovered your online publication and have to say I enjoy it, though I don't always agree with it. As an alternative source of news and opinions, it's successful in presenting ideas usually not found in the mainstream media. I find all of the columnists very interesting, though I have to admit I don't enjoy Ned Nedmiller at all. It's nothing personal against the man, I just don't understand him. He barely seems to be speaking English, and none of it amounts to any sort of sense to me. What is the story with Nedmiller? Deborah Kling Daisy, IDDear Deborah:
Sorry, but we're not sure what you mean. We have no Ned Nedmiller on staff at the commune.
the commune
Dear commune: I am writing Dark Shadows fan fiction for the famous Dark Shadows website BarnabusBytes.com. As is usual, I try to stay true to the vernacular of the period. My questions: What is the past tense of smote? My initial thought was that it is smot, but my friends say that's not true, Barnabus would never say he smot someone. Arnie said smote is the past-tense of smite and the past-participle is smitten, but I thought smitten was a good thing, to say you were smitten by someone, whereas to smote someone is very bad. So what is it? By the way, feel free to check out all the great Dark Shadows fan fiction by me (SheriffJonas@aol.com) and other fans at BarnabusBytes.com! SheriffJonas@aol.comDear SheriffJonas:
Smote is a dangerous street drug lethal if taken in large amounts anally, though the same could be said of just about anything. Smite was the 19th vice-president of the United States, killed in a duel over smote, ironically. Smitten is the famous German candy with a touch of cinnamon.
Thank you for your invitation, but we find the whole thing very sad. At least that's the general reaction as we passed a printed copy of your e-mail around the office, though some found it hard not to laugh long and loud.
the commune Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for your outfit, we distinctly said you didn't have to wear that dress tonight. So put on the red light, Roooooooooooooooxaaaaaaaanne.º Last Column: Volume 7º more columns
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|  December 23, 2002
Everyone's Half-Assing the Christmas SpiritNot to shit on everyone's Christmas spirit, but it just seems like no one is making an effort anymore. All year long I look forward to gathering up the toys and, quite frankly, busting my balls to get all the stuff to everyone and there doesn't seem to be much reciprocation on everyone else's part.
I'm not going to name names, but let's just talk about what some people are leaving under the tree. It used to be cookies and milk, and boy, does that ever get boring after the thousandth house, but at least they were homemade cookies and milk. These days I'm lucky if I can get some half-broken Oreos and a juicebox. I'm not saying the kids are to blame, they're probably the reason I get the Oreos, but somebody out there is just not giving a damn anymore.
You know what I want for Christmas? Well, since you ask, a big fat plate of babyback ribs sitting under the tree would be nice. Just one house, you know, not everywhere. I realize it's more of a hassle than you're used to, but at least in neighborhoods can't you get together and work something out? These cookies are going to give me a heart attack, it's really too much sugar. I have a family history of diabetes, you know. What I basically need is something high-carb 'cause I lose a lot of energy moving from house to house with a finger aside my nose. That burns calories.
And all you construction workers out there, you've got to start making the roofs a little flatter. I can't handle those...
º Last Column: If I Were a Carpenter I Would Build You a Home Out of My Heart º more columns
Not to shit on everyone's Christmas spirit, but it just seems like no one is making an effort anymore. All year long I look forward to gathering up the toys and, quite frankly, busting my balls to get all the stuff to everyone and there doesn't seem to be much reciprocation on everyone else's part.
I'm not going to name names, but let's just talk about what some people are leaving under the tree. It used to be cookies and milk, and boy, does that ever get boring after the thousandth house, but at least they were homemade cookies and milk. These days I'm lucky if I can get some half-broken Oreos and a juicebox. I'm not saying the kids are to blame, they're probably the reason I get the Oreos, but somebody out there is just not giving a damn anymore.
You know what I want for Christmas? Well, since you ask, a big fat plate of babyback ribs sitting under the tree would be nice. Just one house, you know, not everywhere. I realize it's more of a hassle than you're used to, but at least in neighborhoods can't you get together and work something out? These cookies are going to give me a heart attack, it's really too much sugar. I have a family history of diabetes, you know. What I basically need is something high-carb 'cause I lose a lot of energy moving from house to house with a finger aside my nose. That burns calories.
And all you construction workers out there, you've got to start making the roofs a little flatter. I can't handle those 45-degree angles anymore. Or just build a deck or something. I'm not worried about the lack of chimneys and the locked doors and security systems—they haven't built a house that can keep me out. But you build a house with a pointed roof and then put satellite dishes and all sorts of shit up there, you're just begging me to skip your house.
While we're on the subject of making my life just a tad easier… kids: Get into something a little easier on St. Nick, will you? Those goddamn Playstation 2s and video games by the ton are not only impossible to make, but they're starting to seriously do some damage to the ol' back. It would be a real crying shame if some of you got into sports again, just asked for a football or a baseball glove or sneakers or something—hardly any of you are in great shape, you know. It wouldn't kill you to go outdoors once in a while.
Oh, and you know what really pisses me off? All those kitschy adults who think it's so funny to write a Christmas list to Santa with their friends. Some group of half-baked intellectuals or cutesy-ass yuppies hang out at Starbucks for a half-hour penning some dumb-ass request for Gap clothes and S.U.V.s and you think it's so funny. Well, you know what? I'm legally obligated to answer all of those letters in some fashion. Yeah, the price-capping laws make it so I don't have to bring you the S.U.V. or anything, but what really pisses me off is that you're wasting my time when you're going to go out and buy the S.U.V. anyway. I have serious business to tend to, real kids who need real Christmas shit, I don't need your jerk-off Christmas lists cluttering up the naughty/nice ratio.
Whew. Sorry. Just bugs me, a lot.
It's not so bad, I guess. Despite everything, all the complaints, I realize I got a pretty good job. I spend about four months driving the elf workforce in the toy production, but they can basically run that themselves, then I bust my ass (and I really do bust my ass) one night a year, which basically leaves me with about eight months to just chill, do nothin'. And for that work I'm celebrated by children everywhere, more than their parents, who do at least half the work I get credit for. Yep, in some ways, it's the sweetest of gigs. Merry Christmas, everyone. º Last Column: If I Were a Carpenter I Would Build You a Home Out of My Heartº more columns
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Quote of the Day“I have not yet begun to fight! When I have begun, it will look quite different. Fists will be flying about, and you will hear a high-pitched whistling sort of sound that will actually be a scream. In fact—I'll make a little hand gesture to let you know. When you see that, that will let you know I'm fighting.”
-John Paul Jones RingoFortune 500 CookieThat tumor-sized growth isn't what you thought, but it could mean big money, so don't despair. One homosexual dream doesn't make you gay, but try one more. What are you in the mood for tonight? Roasted chicken, with sautéed potatoes. Eat less fiber, what the hell. Lucky numbers 10, 10, 34, 10, and 194.
Try again later.Top-Selling commune Paraphernalia| 1. | the commune's Book on Tape: Everyone's favorite verbose classic War & Peace printed in tiny type on the non-sticky side of a roll of Scotch tap | | 2. | The "I Sued the commune for Libel and All I Got Was This Lousy Mug" Mug | | 3. | "Pin the Paternity Suit on Lil Duncan's Babydaddy" Home Game | | 4. | Boris Utzov Guide of English Slang | | 5. | Ivana Folger-Balzac. Please, somebody take Ivana Folger-Balzac. | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 1/1/2000 Hey troops, welcome back to Entertainment Police! Sorry for the gap in my columns, but apparently DUI stands for Don't Underestimate Interpol! Goodness me, well needless to say it's great to get back onto Yankee soil and back to the hunt for worthwhile Entertainment. A lot's happened since our last EP: the Oscars, the Golden Globes, the Peabody... and somebody told me Carmen Electra got married! Bless her heart. I asked around, but nobody seems to think Harry Connick Jr was the lucky guy... poor Harry. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. It's useless to dwell on the disappointments and massive cocaine busts of our past though, so let's get on with the show!
In Theaters Now:
Being John Malkovich
Hey troops, welcome back to Entertainment Police! Sorry for the gap in my columns, but apparently DUI stands for Don't Underestimate Interpol! Goodness me, well needless to say it's great to get back onto Yankee soil and back to the hunt for worthwhile Entertainment. A lot's happened since our last EP: the Oscars, the Golden Globes, the Peabody... and somebody told me Carmen Electra got married! Bless her heart. I asked around, but nobody seems to think Harry Connick Jr was the lucky guy... poor Harry. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. It's useless to dwell on the disappointments and massive cocaine busts of our past though, so let's get on with the show!
In Theaters Now:
Being John Malkovich
Daring use of the helmet cam demonstrates the multitude of possible ways people on the street can say "What the fuck is that on John Malkovich's head??".
Bicentennial Man
Robin Williams stars as a Tennessee-native traveling soap salesman who won't shut up about his state's 200th anniversary. A chilling portrait of state pride. Eventually he's killed in Harlem. Watch for the surprise ending.
Man on the Moon
Hearing Neil Armstrong's boozy rant about how he's the "Greatest goddamn thing to ever happen to this planet" is amusing for maybe the first ten minutes, but this documentary has long dry spells between the magical moments. Moments like when Armstrong demonstrates that he can still urinate without getting up out of his recliner, or when he shows how he can take his dentures out and watch them float around the room in zero gravity. It's touching though when he begins to cry and explains that the dentures only float when no-one's watching, and now he's got carpet fuzz on his teeth. The last twenty minutes of the film show Armstrong snoring in his recliner, a daring artistic move that challenges the way we think about on-screen napping.
My Dog Skips
A fierce argument for child-safe windows is made in this film about a schnauzer who tries to chase cars, from the back seat of his family's Suburban.
Sweet and Lowdown
A deadly terrorist who leaves packets of America's favorite coffee-sugar substitute as his calling card is blowing up all of Seattle's great coffeehouses? Who do you call when the odds are long and the stakes are this high? Wesley Snipes, motherfucker. Always bet on black, and hold the cream!
The Talented Mr Ripley
An exciting but altogether bullshit-packed biopic of the late Robert Ripley, collector of oddities and the human bizarre. Nunchucks in one hand, highball in the other, this film paints Ripley as one bad, kung-fu motherfucker who had a soft spot for little kids with brass rings around their necks and guys who could eat shopping carts. But when he trounces an entire school of expert ninjas using only his gargantuan member, one is left to wonder: Believe it... or Not?
Now on Video:
American Pie
The touching story of an alcoholic from Wisconsin who wants nothing more than to be a chef at Baker's Square, this documentary documents his struggles through at-home, Thanksgiving and bake sale pie-making attempts and leaves you hanging with the final question: Will he ever earn that poofy hat?
The Iron Giant
This rote sequel to The Giant Iron isn't nearly as scary and didn't once keep me up at night, wondering if I heard a mister button clicking out in the hall.
The Red Violin
Seeking to snatch the inanimate-object leading man kudos from Disney's Brave Little Toaster, this is one communist-sympathizing musical instrument that's going to tickle your animated fancy. When he teams up with The Fascist Bathtub and the Socialist Salad Shooter, you know the fun's not going to stop until the capitalist pigs are dead.
T with Mussolini
Look out, action fans! Fresh off his Oscar-winning turn in Life is Beautiful, Benito Mussolini is back and this time he's left the pacifism at home! Mussolini teams up with American acting institution Mr T for this high-octane tale of Harleys, shotguns, and shit blowing up all over the place.
Wild Wild West
Adam West is back as a hard drinking, hard-loving two-fisted bar-brawling motorcycle-racing crazy man in a film that practically blows out it's own intestines in an effort to introduce West as an action hero for the new generation. West's credibility in this role is marred slightly by his paunch, thinning hair and the Ben Gay tie-ins throughout the film. Also destined to miss it's mark is his questionable catch-phrase of "That was so dangerous, I think I need to change my adult diapers."   |