 | 
Studios to Replace Feature Films with Trailers August 19, 2002 |
Hollywood CA Junior Bacon You’d better eat that popcorn fast, chubby
According to the studio heads, movie trailers will now replace full-length feature films in American theaters. Trailers, the previews for upcoming films that until now were shown for free preceding the main feature, have grown over the last ten years from one minute in leng...
he heads of MGM Studios, Paramount Pictures, Columbia Pictures, Sony Pictures Entertainment, Time Warner Entertainment, Disney Enterprises, and Universal City Studios called a press conference today to announce a dramatic restructuring of the way movies will be released and promoted in America. The announcement was the final step in a ten-year plan designed to cope with Americans’ shrinking attention spans and the prevalence of Attention Deficit Disorder among American teens, who drive the movie industry. According to the studio heads, movie trailers will now replace full-length feature films in American theaters. Trailers, the previews for upcoming films that until now were shown for free preceding the main feature, have grown over the last ten years from one minute in length to the four to five minutes of today. While trailers once served to whet an audience’s appetite for a film with only a slight tease of what was to come, they had been gradually expanded over the years to tell the film’s entire story in capsule form. Purists criticized the dumbing-down of the medium and the spoiling of surprises, thought to be the handiwork of inept studio execs. But today’s announcement revealed it to be part of a larger master plan, with major studios gradually weaning film-going America off of the old system both by making the trailers complete experiences in and of themselves, and making modern feature films so unbearably long that watching only the trailer instead would seem like a reasonable alternative. “This is the completion of a logical progression,” stated Columbia Pictures head Amy Pascal. “For years we’ve been faced with the problem of how to deliver an audience their favorite stars doing the things that made them famous, without all of this plot and writing getting in the way, and without taking up so much of a movie theater’s valuable time. Now we can get the seats filled, get the stars up there on the screen for a few quick one-liners and an explosion, some T&A, whatever, and a few minutes later they’re out the door, buying tie-in key chains and hats and what have you. Filmgoers interested in a more immersive movie experience will still be able to watch the entire film in the Deleted Scenes section among the Special Features on the DVD release. It’s perfect.” “It used to be, you see the trailer, you get hooked, you go see the movie,” continued Pascal. “If for some reason the movie leaves you wanting more, you go buy the book. Way, way too much work. Now, you eat the sandwich, you get hooked, you go see the trailer. If you still want more, you can watch the whole movie on the DVD, if you’ve got that kind of time. So watching the movie is like what reading the book used to be. I suppose you could still read the book after that, which is the equivalent of what used to be having written the movie yourself, but we prefer if you just start over and buy the sandwich again. Or ride the ride.” Studios are currently in debates over what to call the new, three-minute long versions of the films, since Americans may still be resistant to shelling out eight bucks to watch anything called a “trailer.” Among the front-runners are “The Ritalin Cut” and “The Director’s Bad-Assed Niece’s Cut.” Others prefer renaming the full cut of the movie “The Marathon Cut” while giving the 3-minute version an appealing tag like “The Buzz Cut” or “Flavor-Blasted.” Still others argue in favor of Reader’s Digest magazine’s offer to sponsor all new films as “Reader’s Digest Condensed Classics,” though some think that a title like “Reader’s Digest Condensed Classics Presents Adam Sandler in The Hockey-Loving Retard” will lose teens who forget what they’re doing before they get done reading the title. the commune news has liked pretty much every movie ever made, except for Good Burger. Ivana Folger-Balzac has been tougher to get out of Ivan Nacutchacokov’s life than a deer tick from a Yorkie’s ass, but the staff has become endeared with her and her charming near-constant stream of vitriol.
 | Coke to Introduce New Pepsi-Flavored Coke August 5, 2002 |
New York, NY COURTESY COCA-COLA C Beating them at their own game: Pepsi Coke
The apparent coincidence of the two launches is a familiar trick in the ruthless cola wars, in which the business world’s two most famous and petty rivals are forever scheming to one-up and stink-finger each other. Pepsi is hoping that its own blind stab in the dark, Pepsi Blue, a berry-flavored cola described as “what it would taste like if fruit could scream,” will be the aorta-spurting death blow it has been hoping ...
s Pepsi’s heavily marketed new nasty blue cola starts hitting store shelves this week, Coke is putting the finishing touches on its own new soda: Pepsi Coke. The new cola, subject of heated rumors for months and developed under the code name Cokesi, is a Pepsi-flavored version of its Coca-Cola Classic brand, and will appear in regional markets in August. The apparent coincidence of the two launches is a familiar trick in the ruthless cola wars, in which the business world’s two most famous and petty rivals are forever scheming to one-up and stink-finger each other. Pepsi is hoping that its own blind stab in the dark, Pepsi Blue, a berry-flavored cola described as “what it would taste like if fruit could scream,” will be the aorta-spurting death blow it has been hoping to deal to rival Coke for decades. Naturally, Coke wants its hunk of the spotlight as well, and has little interest in “being stomped into asshole powder,” by rival Pepsi, as the industry jargon goes. With the release of new Pepsi Coke, Coca-Cola hopes to hit Pepsi right where it lives, namely in producing Pepsi-flavored sodas for the national market. Coke’s tactics are not new in the industry. The last time Pepsi tried to re-invent the wheel by making it a different color, Coke responded quicker than the producers of the 1988 comedy Vice Versa. Pepsi’s Crystal Pepsi, a clear cola that tasted like a robot had pissed on a box of Nerds candy, was quickly one-upped in 1992 with Tab Invisible from Coke, a move that confused consumers and sent them back to drinking water. Hoping to not only match Pepsi, but match them twice, Coke is also hedging its bets by releasing its own new berry-flavored blue drink, Fanta Berry, ensuring that Pepsi Blue won’t be lonely during its short slide into pop-culture trivia obscurity. Stan Villanowski, a Coke spokesman and terrific liar, denied that Fanta Berry is being launched in response to Pepsi Blue. “Pssssh. Who told you that? What an imagination. Fanta is the No. 1 fruit-flavored soft drink in the world,” he said. “Plus, it comes in those cool cascading dispensers that make it look like Fanta is already being digested. Fanta Berry is a logical extension for the Fanta brand, bringing balance to the Fanta Univerise.” Besides, the drink will also be more of a cobalt blue rather than the “dirty antifreeze blue” of Pepsi’s new cola, he added. Fanta, sold in over 70 flavors at failing fast-food chains in over 188 countries, was relaunched this spring as a national brand in the U.S. and is sold in four flavors: orange, strawberry, grapple and pineappleberry. Pepsi appears to give less than two shits about the new Coke brand. “It seems our idea ‘blue’ them away,” said a Pepsi spokesman, Harvey Pearsons, pausing expectantly for a laugh that never came. If we’re going to have to choke down blue Fanta when the fifteen year-old vegetable behind the counter puts it in our Icee cup on accident, then will we at least have the consolation of seeing how they work in a blue Fantana — a new member of the fruit rock group created for Fanta’s ad campaign? “There is a Fantana that represents the four major flavors of the Fanta brand,” Mr. Villanowski said. “They’re not the only ones on the island of Fantana, however, so it wouldn’t surprise me if a berry Fanta eventually joined the Fantanas here in the U.S. for their New Year’s jam with the Cokeanistas and TABBA,” Villanowski continued, getting a paranoid look in his eye. “I’m buying up all the tickets I can so I can scalp them when the time of the concert grows nigh. Then, with that money I can finally quit this lousy job and move to New Zealand, where the Fantanas would never think to look. And I’m bringing lots of bottled water.” Mr. Villanowski continued much like this for about three-quarters of an hour, cutting patterns into his tie with a pair of scissors as the commune news gradually inched its way closer and closer to the door. the commune news is available in three languages: English, Shouted English, and Pig Latin. Ramrod Hurley is the commune’s resident expert on cola flavors and can name off every place in the city that sells Mr. Pibb.
| Study finds low I.Q. causes lead paint eating, not other way around |
|
|
| 
 August 19, 2002 The Child Star Collector's Guidethe commune's Clarissa Coleman wants to bag you in plastic I'm a ravenous collector myself—be it shoes, dresses, slacks, blouses, socks, or jewelry, if you can wear it and it impresses people, I can collect it. But it's not just limited to normal collectible items. I also collect strange and fun items that most people don't know about.
For quite a few years now I've collected valuable birth control pills. It's a peculiar market that takes a lot of time and effort to learn about, and I've expended the time and effort. My agent even jokes I've spent so much wasted time on my hobby I could've been taking acting classes or pursuing more auditions—he's a terrific kidder.
Birth control pills become collectible when they're not taken and result in pregnancy—obviously birth control pills that are taken cannot be collected, ...
º Last Column: Wearning to Pway Guitah
º more columns
I'm a ravenous collector myself—be it shoes, dresses, slacks, blouses, socks, or jewelry, if you can wear it and it impresses people, I can collect it. But it's not just limited to normal collectible items. I also collect strange and fun items that most people don't know about.
For quite a few years now I've collected valuable birth control pills. It's a peculiar market that takes a lot of time and effort to learn about, and I've expended the time and effort. My agent even jokes I've spent so much wasted time on my hobby I could've been taking acting classes or pursuing more auditions—he's a terrific kidder.
Birth control pills become collectible when they're not taken and result in pregnancy—obviously birth control pills that are taken cannot be collected, at least not without grotesque invasive procedures. Birth control pills that are not taken and have no consequences are plentiful, especially when taken by people who are not having sex. The real diamond out there is the birth control pill not taken and ends with a baby. I started out collecting them after I found out my mother said she already had one, though she never told me the full circumstances of how she got it and how she knows it resulted with pregnancy. Since I already had that one to start me, I started seeking out other valuable birth control pills to start a collection, not only for fun, but to provide some financial security in my golden years, 35-40.
It's a hard market to get in on, I know that from experience. People look at you like your crazy when you ask them if they have any valuable and rare birth control pills for sale—by my best guess they either don't know the market or are hoarding their own private stock. But a few guys, who at first glance seem pretty unreliable and swarthy, in fact have a great collection that they're occasionally willing to part with, for the right price. From one guy I got six different pills of differing value, one resulted in the birth of Freddie Prinz, Jr., and several others led to the births of the members of O-Town, though they're obviously not as valuable as, say, the birth control pills that caused N*Synch—birth control pills both despised and priceless.
The most treasured in my collection—and I'll never tell where I keep it or how I got it, though a drug addict down the street hooked me up with it, that much I'll tell—is the birth control pill that failed to prevent the birth of Prince Charles of the Whales. It's a real rare and old birth control pill from early in the century, back when they made them to look and smell like Altoids. And I got it real cheap from the guy. What a sucker!
My birth control pill collection has grown so much that I had to give up some of my other hobbies to concentrate on it, namely my collection of Who's Your Daddy? memorabilia, which office nerd and financial wizard Ramrod Hurley actually said is worth quite a lot of money now. Still, it didn't mean as much to me as my new collection, although I hate the idea of all that lost money.
I had it all, too— Who's Your Daddy? bedsheets, Who's Your Daddy? pressurized cheese, Who's Your Daddy? "cast sings the blues" CD, and Who's Your Daddy? birth control pills. Too bad I couldn't cross over that collection with my latest in some way, but those damn things work too well, from what I've heard. Anyway, that stuff was so rare that some of the items fetched a price between $100 and $2,000, so I almost wish I had held on to some of that stuff. Instead of selling it to Ramrod Hurley. But hey, a collector's pride is in adding the rare and hard-to-find to your collection, not in financial payoff. At least for me. Ramrod Hurley seems happier with his new Lincoln Towncar. º Last Column: Wearning to Pway Guitahº more columns | 
|
| |
Quote of the Day“If you can't stand the heat, turn down the goddamned heater.”
-Cheri S. TrumanFortune 500 CookieYou will find great happiness in wok. Be on the lookout for signs, they may guide you to riches or prevent you from driving on the railroad tracks. A large dog will determine your fate. Remember: Just a dab heals dry skin, but larger quantities can lube an entire baby. Lucky numbers: 0, 0, 0, 6.
Try again later.Top Easter Memories| 1. | Stuffing all those eggs up the bunny's ass. For the children. | | 2. | Knee-deep in Peeps. | | 3. | Kicked out of church for eating wooden Jesus. Thought it was chocolate. | | 4. | I'll be damned, family really can tell ham from Spam. | | 5. | Boil the eggs next year. Sweet Jesus, boil the motherloving eggs. | |
|   NASA Photographs Infuriate Shut-Ins, Conspiracy Geeks BY roland mcshyster 8/19/2002 Hey is for horses, America! And since at last count, horses were unable to manipulate computer keyboards with their big, stupid paws, I'm going to go ahead and assume we've got real live people in the house tonight. So I won't be serving up any hay today people, just some hot, steaming vittles of entertainment flavor. Hopefully that sounds just about right up your alley, as the British say. And hopefully that's not some kind of nasty euphemism for sex, though I've got a bad feeling about it since nearly everything the British say is, so the odds aren't in my favor. But enough about the British! When's the last time they made a movie worth seeing? I thought not. Let's get our minds back on the great U.S. of A, and the thing we do best: selling dreams and soda pop. On to the movies!
Hey is for horses, America! And since at last count, horses were unable to manipulate computer keyboards with their big, stupid paws, I'm going to go ahead and assume we've got real live people in the house tonight. So I won't be serving up any hay today people, just some hot, steaming vittles of entertainment flavor. Hopefully that sounds just about right up your alley, as the British say. And hopefully that's not some kind of nasty euphemism for sex, though I've got a bad feeling about it since nearly everything the British say is, so the odds aren't in my favor. But enough about the British! When's the last time they made a movie worth seeing? I thought not. Let's get our minds back on the great U.S. of A, and the thing we do best: selling dreams and soda pop. On to the movies!
In Theaters
Adventures of Pluto Nash
Yet again, Eddie Murphy plays another troubled mathematical genius trapped in the body of a cartoon dog. Yawn. This time around it's on the moon, as if that's supposed to stir up our Malt-o-meal something fierce. Rosie O'Donnell co-stars as the hot young multi-ethnic thang on the lunar block, which goes a long way toward showing how little attention went into making this film. Murphy's obviously still pissed about not landing the Eddie Murphy role in the Men in Black films, but his revenge here is misguided: I highly doubt Will Smith is going to get suckered into sitting still for two hours to watch this turkey.
One Hour Photo
A picture's worth a thousand words, and if you say 'em slow enough it takes about an hour to say all one thousand. At least that's the message I got from Robin Williams' latest philosophical snorer about an annoying birthday party clown who learns the value of family when he kills one with his Suburban. Williams flees the scene of the crime with only a worn photo he pulled from the flaming wreck, a family photo that haunts him and always seems to trigger eerie harpsichord music. As you may have guessed, by the end he's learned the value of laughter, seizing the day, respecting the insane, cross-dressing and eating leafy greens. I might have been more touched if he didn't do that leprechaun voice so much.
Serving Sara
Another great cannibal comedy starring a Friends alumnus, I guess that's one formula that really can't go wrong. Matthew Perry carries in his pocket an innate likeability that makes him a natural to play the American-Psycho-next-door at the heart of this crowd-pleaser. Don't clog up your brain cells worrying about the plot, since the writers sure didn't, just know that it'll be worth your eight bucks when that stuck-up heifer Elizabeth Hurley finally gets hers in the last act. And take it from me, you haven't laughed until you've seen a surprised Perry spit a breast implant across the table at his family's Thanksgiving dinner.
Simone
It's true: great films have been made on far skimpier premises than a producer's drunken bar boast that he can make a star out of an inflatable sex doll. And for a while, this one works, making us laugh at Al Pacino's frantic bumbling attempts to make an A-list movie and recording star out of a polyurethane actress with a BJ mouth. But the comedy turns mean when Pacino's creation turns out to be a huge success, rubbing our noses in the fact that we'll pay good money to see any rubber-boobed bimbo who smells hyped and has been seen dining with Harrison Ford. It may be true, but it's a cheap shot nonetheless.
Undisputed
Look, anyone who can walk on his hands to Kansas wins my respect right away. I don't care if you make crappy movies, or you can't act your way out of an airsickness bag. You're still the man. Keep that in mind when seeing Wesley Snipes' new popcorn-muncher, a prison male-bonding picture in which Snipes spends way too much time cradled up against Ving Rhames' big, manly tit. I mean, it could be worse, you know? You could be at dinner theater.
Well folks, that's the way the shammy shakes, at least this week. Now it's time to get out there and do your patriotic duty to keep those turnstiles turnstiling. It may not always be fun, but where else can you find such a large, captive audience with which to share your fascinating cell-phone conversations? We'll be back next time with cakes, cookies and… dare I say movies? Maybe! You'll just have to check back then if you want to find out.   |
