The Introduction to the Pantheon
As the year closes, The Other Letter Pantheon must cull the herd. Because of the limited clout I have, the only way I can effect any change at all is by removing from the Pantheon the less than desirable and exemplary. If these women ever clean up their acts, they can resubmit their application for admittance.
Until they get it together, my readership will take a huge hit as these three — Ashley, Gwynnie, and Nikky — are the favorite destinations in all Other Letter. I will soon be swimming in debt, and begging friends and acquaintances for loans, or outright, cash handouts. If Other Letter is crushed with unpaid debts, these are the girls we should feel free to blame.
The following Pantheon women do not meet our modest criteria for inclusion, and have been excised here:
Ashley Judd, the Jesus meathead, the Jesus freak, was given the choice between Pantheon inclusion and her Baby Jesus. She has decided to continue kneeling before her mighty Baby, Jesus the Christ, so we don’t need her here. Her idea of fun is genuflecting five times daily in her home prayer room, and leafing through her 78-volume, Bible collection. Her prize tome, which she paid seven figures for, is the same New Testament that Jesus read from, or so the Bible salesman told her.
She prays in the direction of Jerusalem for world peace, and for a continued supply of her cherished Milky Way bars as she now weighs over four-hundred-and-fifty pounds. Besides praying for candy, Ashley also prays for grandma roles worthy of her talents. More than anything else in Creation, Ashley desperately needs the soft imaginary touch of her Baby Jesus, and his whispered comfort and conversation.
Ashley has often said that were it not for Baby Jesus, her only other friend would be Mother Nature where she sets up her tent ten to twelve months of every year. This is where she first got hooked up with Milky Way bars, for energy at first, then for companionship. Other hikers can sense her nearby, as the ground quakes. Ashley once needed to be Medivac-ed out of the Smoky Mountains as she rolled on her side like a flipped turtle. The copter could barely lift her off of the ground, as she exceeds passenger-weight specs for Sikorsky horizontal-rotor craft.
60 Minutes did a segment on Ashley entitled, This Woman-Child from Kentucky. In it, a neighbor recounts a typical summer night: “Ashley runs down from the hill country in the buff, and speaking in tongues. So yesirree, Bob, she is a bit strange for these parts...”
Everywhere on Goop, Gwynnie represents herself as a paragon of virtue, and Christian living, never good times, but there does appear to be more to this story.
Replying to a Christmas 2019, question from BFF, Kate Hudson, Gwyneth Paltrow said that she drinks every day, and doesn’t care that she does (mobile devices cannot process offset, so the Youtube should be set at 6:16 to witness Gwynnie’s mea culpa). To anyone familiar with Alcoholics Anonymous, drinking daily is a sure sign of being afflicted with the disease of alcoholism.
As part of her Pantheon Rehabilitation Program, we have sent her the names of several long-term, State facilities, with nominal cost. Gwynnie’s kids will become wards of the State. This way her moppets can keep their standard of living above that of Hondurans. Gwynnie has accepted all this, as she forfeited all rights to circulate among the civilized. In the cruelest twist of fate, Goop operations, now in receivership, will be handed over to her arch-nemesis, Martha Stewart.
In more damning Gwynnie news, she is the new face of Dubai luxury. Ms. Paltrow has done promos for this city in the United Arab Emirates. The only problem being that this city has a terrible human rights record, and she is implicitly endorsing an evil regime. She may have uncovered this fact, and severed ties with everyone who set her up for this; or she did nothing, and intends to do more for Dubai, the UAE, and their “good life.” So far, she’s said nothing about her dunderheaded gaffe, or is it just another hefty, Marvel-size, paycheck? Maybe she is just putting her head in the sand, hoping the controversy will die down, and then endorse San Francisco for the next go round.
Everyone knows how bright Gwynnie is, but does she intend to use this intelligence in a Trumpian way? Will she say that this interchange with Kate Hudson was “perfect,” and provide an elaborate cover up as the Donald would? Or would she follow the progressive lead and admit all wrongdoing, including admissions before a jury of her peers? À la Jimmy Swaggart, will she beg for forgiveness from her family, her friends, and most importantly, her public-at-large? Other Letter will keep you posted on all new, and vital, developments.
I know for a fact that Gwynnie appreciates this intervention, so don’t worry about her putting out a hit on me, especially when I ♥ Radio has done so already (get whom?).
Then there’s Nicole Kidman. My readers are crying: “Is no one sacred in an Other Pantheon world?” No, if you run afoul of our guidelines, there is no place to run, or to hide. Nicole is so fawning, and so clingy over her husband who isn’t affectionate in return.
It is nauseating. Her touchy-feeliness is likely trying to make up for getting stewed to cope with what is apparently a completely-tanked, and loveless, marriage. Then there is this: Nicole is pale-skinned, and she is Northern European (or Australian, same thing), so is she in the Gwynnie Alcoholics Anonymous camp?
Will Nikky, fully resistant to treatment, and avoiding Twelve-Step program, be joining Gwynnie in the day room, one without windows, at some anonymous, poorly-run, State facility for those deep in the cups? A place without visitors, and where you’re only identified by number, not name, where corporal punishment methods are still used, and where the meals are thrown on the floor, to be fought over. This is no Siberian Gulag, this is modern day alcoholism treatment for the Southern and Hollywood impoverished.
While Stateside alternatives to AA are approximate to prison camps, down under they resemble POW camps for American soldiers in the 1960s. Because of Nicole’s proximity to Cambodia, she should expect tiger cage lock downs, and dinners of raw gristle. Most Asians of great means are able to opt for the Betty Fu Center in Sydney.
Nikky, however, will have her money tied up in litigation over where the kids will be sent for foster care, so she will be spending months, or even years, in the tiger cage. Nicole may be able to trade Eyes Wide Shut performances for cigarettes and leniency, so the beatings will not be as severe as she will deserve.
I hate to the bearer of bad news, but at the rate Nikky is going, she’ll have a tough time getting work acting in commercials, forget feature-length movies.
Reese Witherspoon continues to fraternize with the enemy, the enemy being Oprah Winfrey and Meryl Streep. More than anything, Oprah wants ratings, and will get them anyway she can. This includes taking down Michael Jackson with those perjuring their own court testimony. Tragically, Witherspoon thinks Streep is the world’s best actress. Sure she is, if exaggerated, arms-flailing, non-organic acting is the criteria.
Reese’s production company promotes women, not men, so how is this not reverse sexism? Reese is noted for her perkiness, but for a Hollywood mogul, do we think she’s hip enough? Hmm, does anyone?
Other Letter readers often corner me at exclusive parties, and ask: “Why was Jennifer Aniston removed from the Pantheon?”
I reply: “Because she was never included. I never understood Jennifer’s star-vehicle, Friends. Did anyone? What is the subtext for this congregation of so-called buddies? Is this meant as some Dionysian joke, a riddle perhaps. Why are they together? Is it only the physical longing of the physically attractive? While there always seemed to be Oedipal or Electra complexes looming beneath the surface, this was hardly explored in the first fourteen seasons. Only in season nineteen, did the troupe come out as either gay and/or lesbian or a non-binary mix.
“While each of the Friends girls were promiscuous, Monica was the one most available for any and all comers. Season twenty-seven opened with her chasing down some guy in a tuxedo for a meal ticket, and Joey running for the United States Senate. Both events were followed by lengthy, house meetings, led by concerned yet perplexed, Rachel and Chandler, with their now famous call-to-arms, “let’s sort this crap out.” Friends had officially jumped the shark.
“The all-time funniest Friends episode was the one where Ross bought a chick for Joey’s birthday, and Joey didn’t realize until too late that he was getting a chicken, and not the girl of his dreams. The hilarity was considerable, if and only if, you had no other exposure to humor. Yet most watched Friends because this was Gilligan’s Island for the 1990s, a mindless romp with updated Gingers and Mary Annes shimmying to native rhythms.
“As for Rachel’s obvious overtures towards the other female cast members, there was never full exposition. Viewers were left wondering, that Rachel-Phoebe axis, why did this never evolve? Rachel, Phoebe, and Monica lived in the same apartment, yet there was never any testing or breaking societal demands for heterosexual relationships? Was Friends filmed in 1995 or 1955?
“Was Friends meant to be a celebration of girlfriends, heterosexual pairing in infinite combinatorics? Then there’s the congregation’s mecca, the Central Perk. Sure Rachel, Phoebe, and Monica, were perky, that is the obvious metaphor, but is that the full culmination of womanhood, to simply be perky? As for sexual congress, all were chaste until Rachel married Winslow, thus ending all romantic tension.
“See, no subtext, no revelatory discoveries. With so much left unresolved, can one actually say they were truly a Friends fan? No, of course not, Friends was a source of endless frustration, for all but those shut-in and watching in institutional day rooms, like felons doing hard time. Was this their intended demographic?”
My fellow party-goer scratches their head, “But wasn’t it at least didactic?”
“Hardly, no, never, because...” Another exclusive party wasted discussing Friends theory and practice ad infinitum.
Anyhow, this is why Jennifer Aniston isn’t included in the Pantheon...
Salma Hayek is Ashley’s bff from their days on the set of Frida. Here’s a few surprises about Salma. Did you know that because Salma is so top-heavy, she has a walker? She might go wheelchair when the going gets tough, but mostly it’s the walker.
Salma cannot stand upright without a back brace. Every movie, if you pay close attention, she’s always reaching for a wall for support. She regularly face plants, even in restaurants. Most scenes she’s sitting to avoid face plant reshoots. Salma has annual back surgery, not just an exam, surgery.
All these girls in the Pantheon get hit on every day, in any situation. I’d imagine it gets very annoying after awhile, although in any boring, social situation, I bet Salma knows to lean over.
Anyhow, Salma is taken, by a guy who could easily buy Fort Knox’ gold, so we very wisely exclude her from the Pantheon.
In Salma’s stead, and in her class of top-heaviness, but somehow even more stacked, we have Christina Hendricks. She looks like the most sweet-hearted woman, she always looks happy. For those keeping score at home, Christina starred in Mad Men as Joan. Joan was beleaguered as the ambitious girl in the secretarial pool, in the male-dominated world of 1960s, Madison Avenue advertising.
Ashley Judd would have been on her way out of the Pantheon due to her associations with bad elements. If you follow this Pantheon you know we mean Pope Jorge (his real name), anti-Choice Melinda Gates, and tax-evader, Bono (his alias). A little birdie told me she is not so foolish anymore, but I still have her on Double Secret Probation to avoid relapses.
Tina Fey was pulled because she backed Jimmy Fallon. This was after the firestorm he created when he snuggled up with Trump on the Tonight Show during his election campaign.
My complaint with Fey of Saturday Night Live infamy, and her ilk as well, is that her SNL stole the writers of: National Lampoon, Second City TV, and Mad TV, then replaced these great shows with often unwatchable drivel (this point about talent theft was made very clearly in the film, National Lampoon: Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead).
To add insult to injury, they had host Trump twice, before he was elected President with fewer votes than his opponent, Hillary Clinton (the election heist was pulled off via the Electoral College’s wealthy people loophole, where land mass means more than the size of the electorate — just like in the Senate).
Tina has begun petitioning for inclusion back in to the Pantheon U.S. Edition, but frankly, we do not see this ever being ruled in her favor. It’s like having a felony on your rap sheet, even if you become Mother Teresa, it stays there forever. Don’t expect me to pardon you, Fey, it ain’t gonna happen. Sorry. Many are called, but few are chosen.
Tina, I know you’re out there, don’t bother resubmitting your application. It is a lengthy, time-consuming, and expensive process. You may think you’re made of money until you find yourself caught in the legal morass that is the Pantheon Review Board. Just be thankful that you did belong to the Pantheon for a few illustrious months, and just leave it at that. This is all we can do. I know you think you’re worthy, but you’re not. I’m sorry, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not good enough. SLAP!!! Wait for effect: SLAP!!!
Lindsay Lohan (Lilo) was given the bum’s rush once she decided she was pro-Trump and pro-Weinstein, not much to add to that. Anyone can see that Lindsay is very warm-hearted, but her politics are suspect, and we have to present the Pantheon to the world as a unified front. Lilo, you’re still young. Take notes on Jane Fonda’s social and political consciousness. You want to be, Jane, just without spending all the time in jail that she does...
Jennifer Lawrence was yanked off of Other Letter when she was rude to Lilo. J-Law said she “pukes like Lilo without the drugs or alcohol.” And J-Law herself pukes because of nervousness, or because of the same reasons she accuses Lilo?
Diane Keaton fell victim to Baby Jesus proselytizers. This is so incredibly sad, but the actress who gave the world Annie Hall in the flesh, has become a mindless Jesus freak. I would give her a pardon, but anyone wearing several crucifixes around their neck, has instantly earned our complete contempt...
Any of those listed above will be considered for re-inclusion in the OL Pantheon once they prove they are worthy of Other Letter forgiveness, either with selfie bedroom photos, or starlet mansion invites. Other Letter is the new power player in town, all hail the king!
Dinner for Super Models
Gigi Hadid enjoys tooling around her family farm in Pennsylvania, especially with all the Coronavirus downtime. Why just recently she slaughtered Porky the Family Pig with just a stun gun, ax, and pickax.
With all this clean, fresh air, Gigi loves to get her farm girl on and slaughter livestock. She shows you how you can join in on the fun in her new Youtube: Gigi Hadid Loves Killing for her Dinner. She’s decked out in haute couture, yet wait until the video takes a Tarantino turn in favor of blood splatter. Way to be, frontier woman, Gigi.
I hesitated posting this, because it might somehow be offensive to Gigi. But she’s a model, and they take abuse for a living. I mean, just look at the get-ups they’re stuck parading on the catwalk.
Watching a fashion show, it is easy to tell which models the powers that fashion be are ready to set packing for the red-eye, and the Greyhound back to Dubuque. These models are decked out in the most, absolutely appalling “haute couture.”
Karlie Kloss was feeling the heat from her being related to the Trump family, so she was attired in stuff that wouldn’t move at a 99¢ sale at Walmart.
Surprisingly, smiling doesn’t help a super-model’s career. Down to a model, they all stroll the catwalk stone-faced.
Cara Delevigne was spotted with two forearm tattoos. These will be noted in the logbook as a penalty of eight demerits apiece. Once she has them removed, the demerits will vanish from the book. Cara, I run this Pantheon with an iron fist, if you don’t like it, then I suggest you find another Pantheon. We don’t need tattooed glamazons here, even when they’re still glamazons...
Bella Hadid doesn’t smile as much as her sister, Gigi. Is this because Bella is younger, and is more reserved? Bella is definitely more attractive when she smiles.
Part of the job of being a model — and surprisingly, it is a real job — is wearing really ridiculous outfits with just as strange make up. Does Bella get uncomfortable in wacky get-ups?
On the James Corden Overnight Show, Justin Bieber was asked to rank his wife’s girlfriends. Bieber could have eaten a bull penis to avoid answering. Instead, he chose Kendall Jenner first, Gigi Hadid second, and Cara Delevigne last. While Justin claims Canadian citizenship, this isn’t how a Canadian answers this question.
First, he should have cleared a rules modification with Corden to allow ties. Then, he has tied for first: Cara and Gigi. Last place goes to Kardashian relation, Jenner, whose step sister, Kim, and in-law, Kanye, viciously, verbally attacked Taylor Swift. Bieber is just a White boy from Beverly Hills, sorry to say.
Kendall Jenner closed out a Versace fashion show, not because she is so gorgeous — sisters Gigi and Bella Hadid were also walking that night, and are much more refined and better-looking — but because she is a Kardashian. This is sickening as step-sister, Kim, and her husband, Kanye West, viciously took down Taylor Swift. As Kendall’s name suggests, she looks like a boy. The first family of reality noxiousness, and Trump pretension, couldn’t hold a candle to the sisters from the Continent...
The question most on my mind about Gigi, and the rest, is: Would they get out of bed for under $10,000 a day? Iconic, Nineties, Canadian super-model, Linda Evangelista, said, “no, never.” Would the current roster of super-models get out of bed for under $10,000 a day? If yes, has modeling hit hard times with the end of the Victoria’s Secret Angel Showing? Then it’s time to regroup, unionize, find a union hall, and go on sex kitten strike.
On Karlie’s Project Runway, someone produced a very weak dress design, one that its sneering creator said could be worn by Karlie at a State function. Will Ms. Kloss forever be a target because she is three degrees of separation from Donald Trump? (Her husband is the brother of Ivanka Trump’s husband.)
She’s similar to Taylor Swift in politics, yet she’s somehow aligned herself with the far Right. Was her marriage a terrible mistake, or was it all that she had hoped, and every day is a blessing, with whatever her husband’s name is?
Wait, is it Joshua Kushner, and his brother is Jared? Gees, how cute are those names? Karlie is a Jew now. Does she enjoy all those Jewish holidays? There’s like thirty of them, and inexplicably they never fall on the same date every year. You need to attend temple services, just so a rabbi can tell you when you’re on holiday. It certainly adds exclusivity to their congregation...
Why on Earth did Karlie marry into the Trump family? She seemed so cool, and she could put Taylor to shame on the dance floor. Now, she’s become a Republican sellout, and a GOP toady?
At New York’s Fashion Week, We have the Tale of Two Models...
Twiggy was one of the first super-models. Cheryl Tiegs made the scene soon thereafter, and a bit later, there was Christie Brinkley, the uptown girl. George Michael’s Freedom 90 highlighted the best in class of super-models of the Eighties.
Today, a few standouts quickly come to mind: Karlie Kloss, who’s been put out to marriage pasture at 25 years of age (and has the biggest, warmest smile of any model, ever); Gigi Hadid, the rising star; and Cara Delevigne, who’s super talented (she can expertly play the drums and is an actress, among other talents), yet has apparently lost all interest in her original claim to fame, which was modeling. I hate to say this, but Cara does seem rudderless as well as being on the self-destructive side, and she seems to carry a bit of wild heroin chic with her.
Fashion models get ranked on for being as lazy as sin, but unless they make a substantial effort, they will never make it to the upper echelons. Some warm to the camera, others remain icy and distant.
Cara Delevigne does seem so lackadaisical at this show. Meanwhile, Gigi Hadid is a real charmer, and is a real trooper (in this photo her heel broke so she’s barefoot). You can just tell she likes her work, but she hasn’t forgotten that that’s what it is, it’s work. I’d have to say that she has the brightest future after looking over dozens of photos I saw from NYFW.
I bet Cara sees herself as an actress who models to pay the bills. She is very talented but she looks like she hates modeling.
Besides Gigi, Karlie also approaches modeling as a career, she’s another pro. Even though elite modeling is a lucrative field, many models at that level can’t even muster a warm, easy, unforced smile. They’re either spoiled rotten, don’t understand their role as a fashion presenter, or are scared stiff.
I see Gigi getting at least as far as Karlie has (and Karlie looks as though she defected to the dark side — she married Joshua Kushner, the brother of Jared, Ivanka Trump’s husband). Whatever Gigi is doing, she’s doing it right. She’s the pro out of the whole lot of the super-models at NYFW. Gigi sure wears fashion well, Cara isn’t doing so well. Gigi has risen to the challenge of super-model greatness, Cara doesn’t look like she cares anymore — about anything...
Gigi is knocking them dead again, this time in Paris, for the Americans in Paris fashion week. Gigi has a younger sister, Bella, who is two years younger than Gigi, and who seems a bit more serious. This might stem from Gigi being intense, professional competition, especially when she’s a member of your own family.
More proof that Gigi Hadid is a super-heroine, just like Batgirl or Wonder Woman, or maybe we should just call her the Gigi-goddess. She bounced a catwalk prankster right off the stage. Nothing to it for this super-heroine. When the fashion season is over, she’s a bouncer down in Hell’s Kitchen. The legend of Ms. Hadid lives on. Way to be, Gigi, super-star...
Bella Hadid just had a détente session with Selena Gomez over a misunderstood Facebook post. I’ll tell you, listening to those two compromise on the complexity of a single social media exchange, one is very surprised that they’re not actually negotiating a Middle East peace initiative...
Cara Delevigne bounced back from whatever she was going through. She’s doing just fine now. Clear-eyed, and twinkly-toed, Cara is back in it to win it. Whew! Wasn’t that a close call?!
Another super-hot, super-model is Emily Ratajkowski. Her body fat must have been divinely placed in all the right places.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Big Four
Each of the Big Four has super, girly-girl powers, and commensurate experiences. Unfortunately, they are often called upon for unfitting publicity (sadly, because of Heather Graham’s great looks, she seems to often be foisted with this). In a typical Big Four cover, the caption reads: The Power of Women Issue; in the photo beneath: the actresses are spread eagled, and licking a Popsicle...
Charlize Theron is our movie producer; is an Oscar-winner; and represents the international perspective. She is Dutch, speaks Afrikaans, and is a White, African-American, from South Africa. Charli (as she is known by her closest compadres) is three years younger than Gwynnie, five years younger than Heather, and eight years younger than Ashley (we know that women hate revealing their age, but they’re all good sports here).
Gwyneth Paltrow runs contextual commerce site, Goop; is CEO of a multi-national; is an Oscar-winner; and is our culture arbiter. She has hosted functions at her home for the National Democratic Party, including one for former President, Barack Obama.
Ashley Judd has federal government experience; has worked at the United Nations; is an equestrian; was considering a run for Senator from Kentucky (seriously); has a Masters in Public Administration from Harvard University; and is well-versed in spiritual principles.
Heather Graham has movie-directing experience; has acted in films exploring the sexual facet of life, among many other themes; she regularly appears on sexiest, and most beautiful women lists; she has personal familiarity with “the rock n roll scene”; she has worked closely with child advocate, Children International; and has been a practitioner of Transcendental Meditation (aka TM) for decades.
You’re bored, play our quiz...
There was a documentary that followed the lives of schoolchildren entitled Seven Up. If I remember correctly, they discontinued the project at Fifty-six Up — seven installments, and forty-nine years later.
Surprisingly, the original Seven Ups were the Big Four — Charlize Theron, Heather Graham, Ashley Judd, and Gwyneth Paltrow (not in any particular order). Without further ado, here is a quiz matching the Big Four to their quotes from then.
|1. I’d like everyone on earth to be very, very, happy, someday.||A. Charlize Theron|
|2. I’d like to one day become a billionaire, or else marry one, or just have two kids.||B. Ashley Judd|
|3. I’d like to be able to levitate myself into the clouds. And every child needs to be loved.||C. Gwyneth Paltrow|
|4. I’d like to rebuild my country.||D. Heather Graham|
Do not look at the answers until you’ve given this the old college try. That may not be saying much about college, but so be it.
The answers: 1., B.; 2., C.; 3., D.; 4., A.
Actresses To Be Included
These are a few of the unforgettable, Pantheon women I hope to include once I find the time, the energy, and a full-time research assistant who wears low-cut blouses. This incomplete list has unexpectedly gotten very long, and I have made serious omissions due to blind spots in my admittedly limited knowledge of the entertainment industry.
Julianne Moore would get first dibs, but she keeps turning down my advances, so I’ll profile someone who knows what it takes to succeed in this town:
Eva Marie Saint
Dame Helen Mirren
Dame Judi Dench
Dame Julie Andrews
Dame Maggie Smith
Sarah Jessica Parker
Sarah Michelle Gellar
D. Vanessa Redgrave
The Pantheon Big Four are much like the Beatles, the Fab Four:
(Okay, this is the problem I have. None of the Big Four girls want to be Ringo, but they all want to be Paul. This whole Big Four/Beatles project might have to be scuttled. You cannot have four girls being one Beatle, I am sorry. The Big Four needs to be distributed evenly one-to-one to a relevant Beatle. I am in charge here, so I decide which Beatle approximates Big Four behavior, adjusting for gender and looks. If a Big Four girl has issue, they need to write me, and plead their case, beg me really, okay?)
There’s Gwynnie, a huge Paul McCartney fan, that ever-popular and talented Beatle. Gwynnie is very successful, and, like Paul, may be criticized for being too pop-centric, or too up front about, shh, sex (okay, not Paul, this might be more Gwynnie). Gwynnie is a single Mom of two perfect kids (who excel at absolutely everything, they do) trying to make it in a World of status-seekers, and insane pressures.
Then there’s Ashley, John Lennon brought back to life in a gorgeous, feminine package (the Big Three get jealous when I show bias). She sticks to her principles at all costs, and faces huge agitation from idiots who try to stand in her way, all the while making the world safe for defenseless, street urchins from India to Bangalore. In the streets of Calcutta, Ashley is often mistaken for Mother Teresa because of her kindness, but certainly never because of appearance — Ashley looks like a super-model.
Charlize, our George kindred spirit, the quiet, Zen Beatle, into self-actualization, and also into doing good for the world. I keep Tweeting her that she should get a refund from the orphanage because of the spirited, linoleum lizards she adopted (who already have Charlize’s loving heart), but my schemes are to no avail, Charli, the Face, is so true blue towards everyone.
Last, but never least in any sense, there’s Heather, a Doppelganger for wild Ringo (a Doppelganger if Ringo had a large bosom, and a super model’s face), who is always up for a good time — when she’s not saving Gotham. Life is a party, this is Heather and Ringo’s motto. To put this more simply, Heather is the tailgate party Beatle. She is a real sweetheart though, and as a philanthropist assists with Cambodian relief agencies.
The Annual Pantheon Sextravaganza We’ll be having the Annual Pantheon Sextravaganza again this year. Same place, the El Dorado Bar and Motel — it’s the motel by the Hollywood Freeway underpass. One change this year is that instead of party clothes, to reduce the spread of STDs, you’ll get a sterile, paper hospital gown to switch into upon arrival. We have use of the lost and found bin so we’ll use that for your clothes.
Okay, I’ll admit the year prior attendance was lighter than we had hoped... Okay, it was just Kim K and Kenya, and Kenya was asked to leave after he charged the podium. Kim stripped and shimmied in the lobby for tips, which wasn’t entirely unwelcome as she was between pregnancies for once, and the game was on anyway.
Next year we hope to have the Pantheon girls climbing the side of the Trump Building naked to get the word out about our Sextravaganza. If you would like to help with next year’s Sextravaganza with any suggestions, such as truck stops with lodging that are unfrequented by the police, you may send them using this link.
Regarding Copyright Please read this link for information how Copyright Law, and the Fair Use Doctrine, permits the use of stills on this page. Considering that their placement here promotes movies and their actresses, I fail to see how anyone could have cause to ask for their removal. Yet if you have legal standing, and you want me to remove your photograph displayed here, just send me a note indicating the photo and the reason for the removal request, and I will do so immediately. Priority service goes to those sending nude photos...
1. Just before schooners set sail for extended voyages to discover new passageways; a fair, captivating, friendly, and charismatic maiden would stand ashore blessing their craft, bidding them farewell, wishing them Godspeed and a safe return transit. Later, desperately home sick for their life on land, sailors would think of her the most, and prayed she awaited them upon their return. In point of fact, she is acknowledged as the reason why they stayed true to a most perilous course. A woman such as this was known as a ship-launcher.
2. Keepsakes reminding one of a ship-launcher.
3. A Pantheon woman.
Why wasn’t I included in the Pantheon? You may be a Hollywood actress wondering why you have not yet been inducted into the Other Letter’s Pantheon page. You’re a likable actress. You’re professional, you’re not a prima donna. You’re noted for your work — both on the sound stage, and for the public good — as well as your intelligence. Your talents sets you apart from the pack, and you never got an acting job by sleeping with anyone, or out of nepotism. If this sounds like you, then you’re in, we welcome you to the Pantheon.
If the Pantheon appointee has signed on to endorsement deals with which the Other Letter Nominating Committee — or in this instance, the Review Board as well — finds exception, we will work with said Pantheon appointee until an agreed upon “middle ground” is reached. This adjudication process must take place regardless of however arbitrary the Pantheon’s negative evaluation may seem to the confused neophyte. Usually this means pulling out of her endorsement contract by the end of the week, but the starlet knows full well that this is a small, small price to pay for inclusion on this acclaimed web page, one reviewed daily by those who matter most in Hollywood.
All we need for you to do now, is to send us your admission request, along with any publicity stills I might use. This will soon be the premier go-to, online resource destination for casting directors, so be sure to make the photos your most becoming ones (we’re sorry, but nudity is not yet displayed here, but it will be accepted with your admission packet as an expedient to the admissions process to help us see who you really are). Please be aware, Pantheon candidates who are unattached in relationships get much faster service than those who are (something to do with Screen Actors Guild, marriage status declarations).
Looking at the Pantheon, and seeing the interrelationships between each appointee, you see that being within two or three degrees of separation from Gwyneth Paltrow, Charlize Theron, or Ashley Judd — and recognizing the hunger and ache they have been known to generate in males — will only help your cause immeasurably. Email your admission request packet today, including any neighbor preferences or dislikes, to: Feedback AT OtherLetter DOT com.
Where do super-models stand vis-à-vis the Pantheon? Super-models take note: this is just a Hollywood Pantheon. Unless you have strong ties to Hollywood, or you have a very accomplished resume with substantial supporting imagery, especially the kind South, far South, of an R rating, you’ll need to plead your position with our Admissions Appeals Board.
The reason the point is raised is because we field dozens of Pantheon requests from super-models each and every day. Take someone like Karlie Kloss. She is a very career- and fitness-minded, dedicated, Victoria Secret, super-model — who wouldn’t want her to be on their team? Ms. Kloss is one degree of separation from Taylor Swift so you would suppose she would be a shoo-in for the Pantheon. The Nominating Committee and myself were mulling over this very issue the better part of yesterday — is she Pantheon-worthy or not?
The answer, you may be interested to learn, is yes and no. Karlie has no movie billing to her name, let alone roles in films appearing in theaters as required for an Oscar by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. If there was a Modeling Pantheon, then of course her inclusion would be a given. Yet because the Pantheon rules were written to accommodate jealous starlets, we would have had to turn down her admission request, had she actually sent one to us, which she apparently forgot to do.
I’m Pantheon, how can I vote another off the Island? If you are a Pantheon woman and you just do not feel a fellow appointee is withholding the traditions of Other Letter’s clean-living, pure-as-the-driven-snow oath — they smoke more dope in a weekend than Bob Marley did after ganja harvest; or they’re given the sun, the moon, and the stars, and they still want anything that’s left — you have the right to vote them off the island, so to speak.
In other words, just get five other Pantheon women who agree with your position to establish a quorum — much like the Supreme Court. Have them forward their position statements to me, giving you the right to supersede my authority, and I will remove the offender immediately. This defines democratic governance, the ability to remove undesirables from your presence.
If you are not Pantheon-worthy, either by gender, resumé, or both, you can still vote an appointee off the island, although the requirements are much more stringent. Just organize 100 of your friends together, and have them send us 100 emails stating the valid reasons why they do not like a particular appointee. She will then need to look elsewhere for someone to tout her career, because purity and appearances are of the utmost importance here, as it is everywhere in life.
This is a non-smoking Pantheon. Take a walk among the Pantheon’s grounds. The birds are chirping. Taylor is teaching Charlize and Nicole the lyre, and after a few master classes, Tay will have Cameron singing pitch perfect. Gwyneth is rappelling down the sheer, vertical face of the eleven-story Other Mansion running through a few, tactical security maneuvers in grease paint and khaki fatigues with Uma and Heather. Joni is guest-lecturing on watercolor to Amy. Ashley and Reese are hiking into the back country.
Yet as far as you can see, across Other Meadow, along the beach at Other Lake, or high atop Mount Other, no one is smoking. Why? Because Pantheonettes could get emphysema, or any of the cancers, especially breast cancer. Sure, Pantheon-o-Rama, and Pantheon-4-U do not care if their Pantheonettes fall ill and die, but here at an Other Letter Pantheon, we do care. Go smoke your butts over at a lesser Pantheon, get used to smoking in the cold in January and catch the grippe, and try to forget you’re strapped down to an iron lung.
The Pantheon of Hollywood Women
Betty “Sue Ann” White
(Still from The Mary Tyler Moore Show
Betty White can do no wrong — ever. She is the ultra rare breed of women who really never makes a faux pas. No missteps, no gaffes, never had a undeserved, mean word for anyone. She’s all sweetness and light — and doesn’t this make her a force of nature? She is one of the very few left, or the only one left, in Hollywood who is universally loved and admired...
Betty White is known for a tremendous list of performances, but the ones that I remember most were those of her turn as Sue Ann Nivens on The Mary Tyler Moore Show. There she played the neighborhood nymphomaniac, a competitive, man-obsessed schemer given a WJM Twin Cities, Minnesota, cooking show.
Her homage to the home front, The Happy Homemaker, featured segments like, “A salute to fruit,” or “What’s all this fuss about famine?” Murray Slaughter, the WJM news editor (played by Gavin MacLeod, Captain Merrill Stubing on the Love Boat), would quip that Sue Ann, and her show, should be renamed ”The Happy Home-wrecker.” Sue Ann would address poor Mary Richards, aka Mary Tyler Moore, with perfect condescension “Dear, sweet, naive Mary ...”
While the writing was absolutely top-notch for both The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and The Golden Girls — the shows where she won the most accolades — the awards she values the most are for her comedic acting in The Mary Tyler Moore Show. In a Movieline Interview, Ms. White said of the foundation value of the scripts, “If it isn’t on the page, we can’t do anything about it.”
According to IMDB Pro, Betty has nominated for twenty-one Primetime Emmys, and has taken home seven of them, six for acting. She has also received four Golden Globe noms. Ms. White has appeared on ninety-nine different television shows. She also earned a Screen Actors Guild Lifetime Achievement Award.
Ms. White is the oldest person to host SNL, and won a Primetime Emmy for doing so. Betty is in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the female with the longest career in television.
Ms. White is a registered Democrat, and an ardent animal rights activist. Betty supports gay rights as well, stating, “If a couple has been together all that time — and there are gay relationships that are more solid than some heterosexual ones — I think it’s fine if they want to get married. I don’t know how people can get so anti-something. Mind your own business, take care of your affairs, and don’t worry about other people so much.”
Her husband, television host and personality Allen Ludden died of stomach cancer in 1981. When asked if she would ever remarry, she has been steadfast, “Once you’ve had the best, who needs the rest?” (In the past, Blythe Danner has expressed — and much more than likely still feels — a similar sentiment after the love of her life, Bruce Paltrow, died.)
Cloris “Phyllis” Leachman
(A still fromThe Mary Tyler Moore Show)
Followers of Mary Tyler Moore know that Cloris Leachman’s turn as haughty Phyllis Lindstrom was the only regular on the show with a child in tow, her precocious Bess Lindstrom (excellently played by Lisa Gerritsen, the omnipresent, always working, Seventies child actress). Phyllis was MTM’s landlady and self-described best friend to ever-popular Mary.
Ms. Leachman went on to play the title role in the spin-off series Phyllis for which she won a Golden Globe. Its cancellation after two seasons was partly due to the deaths of three cast members; it became difficult to write scripts when the actors portraying mainstay characters were no more.
Ms. Leachman won the Oscar for Best Actress in a Supporting Role for The Last Picture Show. Cloris is also the biggest Primetime Emmy individual award winner of all time, having won eight statuettes, and nominated over twenty times, for MTM and Malcolm in the Middle, among others. In the latter, she did a turn as Grandma Ida, the Slavic and embittered Canadian (don’t ask me why the part was written as her being Canadian, Slavic, or embittered, because I haven’t a clue).
Cloris appeared in three of Mel Brooks films. She played servant Frau Blücher in 1974’s Young Frankenstein, appeared as the deranged psychiatric nurse in 1977’s High Anxiety, then she did a turn as Madame Defarge in History of the World: Part I from 1981.
Ms. Leachman competed in the Miss America pageant as Miss Chicago, and at Northwestern University she was a classmate of character actor Paul Lynde. After winning a pageant scholarship, she went to the Actor’s Studio in Manhattan to work with Elia Kazan. She has appeared on Broadway in As you like It with Katharine Hepburn.
Cloris was good friends with Judy Garland and Marlon Brando. She is the oldest person ever to appear on Dancing with the Stars.
Carol “Miss Wiggins” Burnett
(Still from The Carol Burnett Show
That’s an über strung-out Norma Desmond
from the recently colorized Sunset Boulevard,
or is this Carol Burnett?
Gabi Rona | © MPTV | mptvimages.com)
Carol Burnett won yet another award, this time at the Golden Globes. She made a few, very interesting remarks about how The Carol Burnett Show could never be created today. For one, it was too expensive to produce, so it would be too dangerous financially to be green-lighted in the present day.
What I need to know is how she ever became so charming, geez, is that woman attractive. Carol, how do you get to be so well-liked? Bottle this, and you will be the richest woman on Earth...
We caught up with Carol Burnett at the Other Letter Comedy Festival, and asked the television legend what she thought of up-and-comers like Amy Schumer. To quote Carol: “I just love what Amy is doing with potty-humor. I mean I love hearing about gas, and of course, women’s periods are pure comic gold. She did such a wonderful job in, what, ‘Stand up and Fart!’ She’s leading the way for the next generation, in her profession, with women in general, and especially all those teens who might look up to her. I’m just in love with her and her work.
“In fact, I was just discussing this with Betty, Betty White, the other day. She said, ‘More than anything we need jokes about drunkenness and drug use. I’ve spent my whole life, all 95 years, waiting for comedians who found the joy in making fun of drunks. Potty humor, too, I love that just as much as the next Hollywood veteran — if not more. And four-letter words, I just can’t get enough of them. Give it to me, Amy.’”
There is a rather pronounced difference between comedy of the Sixties, and that of the late Seventies and beyond. In the former, the comedy is classy, and directed towards people or situations. In the latter, it is directed at people — it is much more pointed, coarse, more edgy, and some might even say, rude. I would say that like music of the same era, the new, hard-edge is a product of the American War in Viet Nam. That televised, steamy jungle bloodbath, was brought to us courtesy a tragically misled Johnson Administration, and an entirely untrustworthy Nixon White House. It blackened and soured America’s character, a sullying from which we have never recovered. Fortunately for us, The Carol Burnett Show just got in under the wire...
I always needed a context and a forum to say what I just said about culture and Viet Nam, and unfortunately for Ms. Burnett, I just got one. The Carol Burnett Show sketches I remember most were: Miss Wiggins, the secretary with her own entirely, separate agenda from her boss, Mister Tudball; Norma Desmond, silent screen star; Tim Conway answering a fire call in imperceptibly-slow motion; and the Char Woman mopping up when it was all said and done. The theme song for her show — originally, and not so aptly, entitled Here’s Agnes — is actually touching: “Aren’t we glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh, or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it, comes the time we have to say, so long...” I remember every word forty years later.
The reason she ended every show by tugging on her ear was to indicate to her grandmother that all was well, grandma didn’t have to worry about her. Both of her parents were dealing with their alcoholism, and rather icily, her mother even discouraged her ambitions to become an actress, simply on the basis of her not a super-model looks.
Then there was her Tarzan bit, which I doubt she could pull off if she looked like Marilyn Monroe. Carol also had more than just a few parody sketches during her eleven year run at CBS, including: Went with the Wind, a play on Gone with the Wind, and As the Stomach Turns, a take on the soap opera, As the World Turns.
Jane “Golden Age” Fonda
How can anyone not love Jane Fonda, a woman who’s eighty-one years of age, and who was arrested for protesting an American government that is at the behest of Big Oil, that refuses to seperate oil and State, and that makes clean energy a low priority.
Ms. Fonda is an American hero, she isn’t afraid to fight for all she believes. Is there anyone that stands up for her principles, has her strength of character, and of her convictions that Jane does? She doesn’t just make octogenarians proud, she makes anyone with a conscience proud. Keep fighting the good fight, way to be, Ms. Fonda...
When Jane Fonda was standing beside a Viet Cong anti-aircraft gun in July of 1972, her intent was to shorten a war that was already eight years long, whose carnage was on the nightly news daily, and whose bloodshed had no end in sight. Looking at that picture, and seeing her smile with her hands clasped in what is apparently prayers for mercy from American aggression, she made her point (unfortunately, I lack the Copyright to display the image).
With Nixon certain of a landslide re-election, the prevailing ethos, if you would like to call it that, was to carpet bomb and napalm the yellow-skinned ox-mushers until the end of time. Isn’t that the Spirit of America, to squash Viet Nam’s self-determination by a nation founded on it?
Ms. Fonda was attempting to make a statement against imperialism — and trolls are still forcing her to reiterate it unto this day, more than forty years later. How else to demonstrate that they’re not the mortal enemy, when they’re just like us. Given the American-initiated carnage, I am just surprised that she herself did not open fire on U.S. planes. Ms. Fonda was a major participant in the anti-War movement who, with her formidable courage, did all she could to turn the tide against the bloody slaughter.
Ms. Fonda just won the American Film Institute’s Lifetime Achievement Award. All those who spoke there touched on her uncanny acting talent, her activism in a wide variety of causes and her philanthropy, being a fitness guru, her tremendous breadth of life experience, her stellar degree of accomplishment, her unparalleled courage, and her stellar depth of character.
By the way, she has won two Academy Awards: for Klute, and Coming Home, as well as five nominations for On Golden Pond and The China Syndrome among others.
Meryl “The Trickster” Streep
See if you can see the same overacting with the performances of the “World’s Greatest Actress” that I see...
The problem one can see with Meryl Streep, and her overacting, is that she doesn’t emote, or feel for her character, she much more relies on thought processes than she does emotional ones.
Her arms flail nearly spasmodically, yet she remains far removed from genuine authentic human expression. You could blame the director, except she does this in almost every film of hers.
This is the problem I have with The World’s Greatest Actress — she overacts. Her gesticulations, while maintaining interest, do not occupy a portion of the human register for genuine, authentic expression.
She is a modern and mechanical actress, a Method one, who’s less in tune with the natural emotion of the script, than she is with playing it up big, and over the top, for the Hollywood cameras.
This is fine in the American acting school, but it does not hold up well against the European, and especially French, standard. The French are fluid and understated; Stateside, their leader is hyperactive, unusually demonstrative (as if she were a silent film actress), and wooden and stiff emotionally.
Have a look at a few prime examples, like the Julia Child biography, Julia, Julie, made in 2009. Her director or drama coach may offer some type of an explanation, but still, finding other examples didn’t take very long at all. This was not send up comedy either, where the actors are expected to ham up their performance...
I only offer this so Ms. Streep can become a Hollywood screen legend like Greta Garbo. Greta embodied authenticity, the genuine, and staying true to human nature. Can Meryl surpass or even approach Greta Garbo’s performance in Camille? None other than Bette Davis was gob smacked by Greta’s talents, and “her mastery over the machine [and acting entirely naturally while acting in a role]...”
Meryl Streep has been nominated for more Academy Award and Golden Globes than any other actor ever has, 18 and 28, respectively. When she doesn’t win the Oscar she’s been nominated for, is it only because it is time for someone else to win?
Every Oscar-win and nomination that went to Streep could have went to someone who didn’t overact, but the Academy was blind to Streep’s unnatural portrayals. For instance, how many times was Blythe Danner overlooked in her career in favor of Streep’s wildly swinging arms?
Blythe “America’s Mom” Danner
Still of Blythe Danner in Madoff. Eric Liebowitz/ABC | © 2015 American Broadcasting Companies, Inc. All rights reserved.
Used without permission, and I haven’t a clue as to how to get it. I’m promoting your work, so leave me alone. Sorry, Blythe, just talking business with Eric here.
Blythe Danner recently described Chadley, her daughter’s (aka Gwyneth Paltrow’s) fiancé, as being someone she adores and is well-grounded. Couldn’t a friend of her son Moses — the one the whole family is tiring of, because he only shows up conniving for ice cream treats — be described with the same set of adjectives? Okay, I’m jealous, but why wouldn’t Gwynnie and Blythe want to add a blogger to the Paltrow-Danner clan? What does Chadley have that I don’t?
I have six-pack abs, I can bench over 400 pounds, and my sexual stamina is the stuff of legend. I have been a member of Mensa, the one for geniuses, since the second grade, and I regularly prepare Cordon Bleu meals that rival 3-Star Michelin restaurants in Paris. What is not to like, Ms. Danner? Same question for you, Gwynnie: What is not to like?
Don’t fall for some weakling who couldn’t take Gwynnie to new heights. While those two are thinking this over, I’ll do 20 sets of 50 rep curls of 150 pounds each bicep. Robert Downey Junior shouldn’t be doing Ironman, that part was written for me...
Blythe Danner is known everywhere for her stage, silver screen, and TV work. She won a Tony for her portrayal of a devil-may-care divorcée in Butterflies Are Free, and was nominated for two other Tonys, one for A Streetcar Named Desire, and later for Betrayal. Ms. Danner has been nominated for five Primetime Emmys, taking home the statuette for Huff. She was also nominated for a Golden Globe for her work in Back When We Were Grownups.
Ms. Danner has starred on Broadway in The Country House, an homage to stage actors, as they might appear to be a vanishing breed. While the New York Times review of the play was essentially positive, they could not say any kinder words for Blythe than they already did — the review they gave her was absolutely glowing.
Congratulations on another great performance by Ms. Danner in the Sundance Film Festival sensation, I’ll See You in My Dreams. Believe it or not, in Blythe’s fifty years of performing artistry, this is her first leading role on the silver screen, and it had gotten buzz as a possible 2016, Oscar contender. This woman is so endearing, any praise she gets she deflects, she is that modest.
The roles for which many cinema-goers might know her best though, are as a mom in Meet the Parents, and its spin-offs, Meet the Fockers and Little Fockers. She also did a truly wonderful turn in Brighton Beach Memoirs, playing Neil Simon’s always-insightful mother in another of the playright’s classics. For five years, Blythe frequently appeared as Marilyn Truman, the WASP-y mother of Will Truman on the unusually progressive Will and Grace. Ms. Danner regularly gets cast for wholesome, and far less than wholesome, maternal figures, ones who possess an understated charm. Ms. Danner has a classy, socially gracious, feminine manner that is so enjoyable to watch.
Blythe is Mom to Gwyneth Paltrow, and they have appeared together in 2003’s Sylvia, the story of Sylvia Plath. Here, Ms. Danner played the mother of Gwynnie’s title role. In 1992, they were also together in Cruel Doubt, a TV movie.
Ms. Danner has performed in the Williamstown Summer Theater Festival for 25 years, serving on its Board of Directors as well. Ms. Danner is very active in a number of causes including those concerned with the environment and oral cancer — the disease that took the life of her husband, Bruce Paltrow, in 2002.
“Elvis’ Girl” Ann-Margaret
Ann Margaret will be the first to tell you that Elvis represented an innocence lost forever. In interviews, she cannot stomach jabs at Elvis, her ex, as he has been the victim of mean-spirited derision for years and years. Ann Margaret has walked out on any interview where they tried to compromise her memory of him.
For ten years until his death, Elvis Presley sent her a guitar-shaped flower arrangement to every stage show she opened in Vegas...
Ann-Margaret was born Ann-Margaret Olsson in Sweden (a strawberry blond knockout, who would have guessed?) She is a triple threat in entertainment. She can sing with authority, dance like it was her only talent, and she can act like nobody’s business. Bye, bye, Birdie is a classic of hers. She falls hard for rock star Conway Birdie, then realizes he’s very superficial.
She was twice nominated for an Academy Award, for Carnal Knowledge as the open-hearted giver opposite an icy and abusive Jack Nicholson. Ann-Margaret was later nominated again for Tommy as Tommy’s mother, Nora Walker Hobbs, a role where, covered in food, she got really, really messy.
For much of her early career she was labeled a sex kitten, so she chose many dramatic roles to showcase her acting talents, and to prove to critics that she was much more than an exceptionally great-looking woman. She’s been in seriously good company. She sang “Baby, Won’t You Please Come Home” at President John F. Kennedy’s private birthday party at the Waldorf-Astoria, one year after Marilyn Monroe’s famous rendition of ”Happy Birthday.”
In 2000, she broke three ribs riding her motorcycle in rural Minnesota. Honest to god. She’s that hardcore.
Susan “Janet” Sarandon
The Rocky Horror Picture Show)
Can anyone ever forget Susan Abigail Sarandon as the haughty, yet so overwhelmingly sexy, virginal Janet Weiss in The Rocky Horror Picture Show? Her hot as blazes breakthrough performance in that 1975 cult classic firmed up her reputation as a seductively feminine, delicious force of nature. Susan abetted this reputation with a turn in The Hunger, where she most scandalously (for the time, at least) had a sapphic encounter with French siren Catherine Deneuve.
Yet these were only a small portion of her work in the cinema as Ms. Sarandon has been billed as an actress in 127 films (at last count). Susan has earned Academy Award nominations for leading roles in five of these, the one foremost in many minds being the girls-on-the-lam buddy movie, Thelma & Louise. Yet Dead Man Walking — the true story of a nun, played by Ms. Sarandon, who befriends a death row inmate in Louisiana — is the one role that brought home the Oscar for her.
Susan is deeply involved in progressive causes such as ending poverty and hunger, stopping LGBT discrimination, taking down racists, and galvanizing anti-war support. In her pacifism efforts, she has teamed alongside Jane Fonda. She is also a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador, and Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations, Goodwill Ambassador.
Diane “Broadway Baby” Lane
(Still of Diane Lane in Fierce People
Diane is having a nice life, but not exactly a charmed one.)
Diane’s career has been taking off of late, which is great news considering that most actresses past fifty are ready for the old age home. She has been in features each of the last seven years, and she currently has another two films, and one TV pilot, in pre-production. That woman is doing something very right, and she’s so nice and sexy about everything while she is. Sigh...
If every woman looked like Diane Lane, was as kind as Diane Lane, and aged like Diane Lane, you know what this would mean? That’s right, an overpopulation crisis like this world has never ever seen. Let us all give thanks that Diane is the only one as beautiful as she is...
Thankfully, Diane hasn’t gone the way of Jenny C with boob reduction work. Just like we preserve our national parks, we really need to preserve starlets’ natural resources, and that is their cleavage. We’re pretty sure Diane chose aesthetics over hoisting and holstering manageability. Bravo, Diane, bravo. We’ll see her at the movies.
Next up, is Charli getting all these great roles recently because her chest isn’t threatening to both men and women? And is Diane being overlooked because her over-sized knockers frighten many, if not most, women?
Because these actresses don’t do Triple-X, or even NC-17 rated fare, we never see what’s under the hood so to speak, we never see them topless. It’s foolish to make them smaller to make them look better, we never see the goodies unsheathed, we only see the outlines of them. So even if they are sagging navel-grazers, with proper boulder-holders, we, the interested movie-goers, are never the wiser...
Diane Lane reminds me of both Maggie Gyllenhaal and Jennifer Connelly. Ms. Lane has the looks, the smarts, and the talent, but she has not been given the roles worthy of them. She has been in 36 films, of these, I knew of only Under the Tuscan Sun and The Perfect Storm. Hollywood is very capricious and fickle especially when you’re less the latest trend, her acting prospects are more proof of this.
Notwithstanding, she was nominated for an Oscar for her work in Unfaithful, a drama about Connie Sumner, a fundraiser who enters an extra-marital affair, after a chance encounter with a man on the street (this is about as hot as it gets in legitimate cinema). She has also earned three Golden Globe nominations.
In Hillary, Diane was to play the title role in NBC’s scheduled bio pic about Hillary Rodham Clinton, but the production was cancelled due to the potential for Republican demands for equal broadcast time. She is living proof that more mature women can still look great, I mean really, really great — Blythe Danner being another sterling example.
Along with Tony Shalhoub, known for his long-running television show, Monk, Ms. Lane starred in the Lincoln Center’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater production of The Mystery of Love and Sex. This is the story of a pair of childhood friends whose relationship turns romantic over their parents’ objections. Once it does, long-held secrets of both families are revealed, throwing everyone into a tumult. Unfortunately, this was a 2015 limited engagement, hopefully she will be doing more theater work soon. Before Love and Sex, Diane last appeared on the New York stage at the age of 12 in 1977 in the Shakespeare Festival’s Agamemnon.
Most recently, Diane was at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, and looked as glamorous as ever — she simply will not age. Ms. Lane is a joy to behold. Diane has so much going on upstairs, and she seems sweeter than pie.
Diane was just at an Oceana something or other, some celebration of what, water? But she looked great as she always does. She is a breathtaking woman. Honestly, she’s fifty-plus, she could pass for under forty... 2016’s SAG Awards, again, sigh.
Meg “Sally” Ryan
(When Harry met Sally ... trailer)
The New York Times has called Meg Ryan, “the soul of romantic comedy.” She played Sally Albright in Nora Ephron’s When Harry Met Sally ... with Billy Crystal. Then she portrayed Annie Reed, a reporter finally finding true love opposite Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle.
Another major starring role was that of Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail. In this rom-com, emailing lovers do not realize the object of their affection, outside cyberspace, is someone they do not like. Meg was nominated for the Golden Globe for all three of these performances.
Most recently, Meg will produce and star in a new comedy on NBC about a former big-time, big-league, New York editor. Meg’s character returns to her previous publishing house employ where her young, neurotic boss was her former intern. Meanwhile, she has to keep her teenage kids, her husband, and her mother-in-law all happy, but when she tries her best, it inevitably makes matters much worse. Ricky!
Ms. Ryan supports environmental causes, and with them, supports the party that has the better record in that area.
Marisa “Mona Lisa” Tomei
Marisa was recently at the White House honoring the Friends of the White House, or some such party-til-dawn extravaganza, probably trying to scrounge up enough cash to build another wing. They have an East and a West Wing, maybe they need a wing for recreation, say to have skeet shooting off the balcony. You never know down there in Washington. She might have asked me to go with her as her date, but I’m pretty sure I had other plans that week, so thanks, but no thanks. Bet she looked a tad foolish trying to hold her own in foreign policy cocktail talk without me by her side. Oh well, what can you do? There’s only so much one man can accomplish by himself...
Watch Marisa Tomei’s interview on the CBC from 2012 with George Stroumboulopoulos, and you can easily see that she has a gift in relating to people. Marisa is not a scripted talking head or a rehearsed sound bite, she has plenty to offer on an usually wide variety of topics.
I am not even sure how physically good-looking Marisa is, but she has to be one of the most sexy women on the planet. Her sex appeal is just off the charts.
Facets of her appeal are based on experiential, social, and cultural sophistication, whereas many starlets’ attractiveness is only based on the fact that they are the end products of the handiwork of a scalpel-wielding plastic surgeon. This Tuscan charmer impresses with every turn — yet she is not the least bit jaded. Marisa unwittingly, yet instinctively, draws you into her heart, and into her soul.
A recent survey of the literature, or the paparazzi porn, as it is more affectionately known, shows Ms. Tomei looking not much different — or not any different at all — from the way she looked when she first won over our hearts twenty-three years ago, in My Cousin Vinny. Follow the link prior, and you get to cry at the misfortune of not being her boyfriend (I wouldn’t say “the misfortune of never being her boyfriend,” because winning Lotto is also within the realm of human possibility, and her complete inaccessibility is otherwise too depressing to contemplate).
On March 13th of 2014, Ms. Tomei began a week of previews for her sixth Broadway stage play, The Realistic Joneses (she has had leading roles in three of them). This is the comedy about two couples with the same last name and identical homes, who must choose between a perfect fantasy, or a hard reality, a choice that will have deep reverberations throughout the rest of their days. The playwright, Will Eno, was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in Drama, so between the acting and writing talent, this has to be one top-notch production.
...Ms. Tomei remains extremely busy, as she will be performing the recurring role of Mimi Whiteman in Fox’s Empire. Ms. Whiteman is a billionaire who desires beautiful young women, and she makes sure that she gets all she desires. Marisa will also be Aunt May, Peter Parker’s surrogate mom, in the next installment of the Spiderman franchise. Then Ms. Tomei will portray Gloria Steinem in the soon to be produced biopic about the feminist leader’s life.
Marisa has been nominated for three Academy Awards, and won Best Actress for her work in My Cousin Vinny. Marisa radiates a natural, effortless gracefulness, but I bet this very stylish, Oscar-winner only dates philanthropists.
Sandra “Congeniality” Bullock
(While You were Sleeping trailer)
Part of Sandra Bullock’s popularity lies in her disarming candor and sincerity. She is a great comic actress, as seen in Two Weeks Notice. Yet in The Blind Side, her versatility and range is evinced. In this non-fictional portrayal of Leigh Anne Tuohy — an adoptive mother of an abandoned youth who later became a Baltimore Ravens offensive lineman — Ms. Bullock plays a take charge, no time for nonsense, very confident Tennesseean. For her work in this, Ms. Bullock won a Golden Globe, a Screen Actors’ Guild award, and an Oscar.
Most recently, Saundra was again Oscar-nominated for her leading role in Gravity. In this gripping, sci-fi spectacular, Sandy plays an astronaut cut from her mother ship tether, and left adrift in the vacuum of outer space.
Sandra’s work bringing Ryan Stone to life made $716 million internationally for Gravity, and also put her atop Forbes 2014 list of the highest-earning actresses with $51 million. Using a common metric, you are doing just fine if you earn the equivalent of your age times one thousand. Ms. Bullock, recently celebrating her fiftieth birthday, earns her age times one million.
The same year, in the sleeper, The Heat, Sandy was Ashburn, a by-the-book New York City, FBI Special Agent teamed with Mullins, her foil, a streetwise Boston cop played by Melissa McCarthy.
Sandra gave a million dollars apiece to relief organizations: after the tsunami in Asia, to the Red Cross after 9/11, and to Doctors Without Borders, after the 2010 Haiti earthquake. By every indication, Sandy is the easy-going and down-to-earth type, it’s easy to become friends with her.
Julia “Megawatt Smile” Roberts
Mystic Pizza rightly made Julia Roberts the star she was born to be. Her buoyant portrayal of Daisy Arujo is truly remarkable. Not only is her Daisy having a time she will never forget, one senses Ms. Roberts is as well. This set the stage, as it were, for later leading lady roles like Pretty Woman.
Julia possesses great strength of character, and has an exceptionally interesting and well-rounded personality. She is not just another pretty, silly girl prancing across the sound stage in stiletto heels.
Ms. Roberts was nominated for four Oscars, and brought the statuette home for her work in Erin Brockovich, the true story about a legal assistant who almost single-handedly takes on a multi-billion dollar water supply polluter. If you want to see a completely convincing acting performance, see Julia as Erin.
Her movies have grossed $2.6 billion, putting her 17th on the all-time money list for actors, and in second place for actresses, behind Cameron Diaz. She has been on People’s annual list of the “50 Most Beautiful People in the World” eleven times, tying her with Halle Barry.
Halle “Freedom” Berry
Today, Halle posted a photo of her with a butterfuly on her hand. A troll found the joy in diminishing the otherwise happy moment by saying that her “hand looks like a construction worker’s.”
Then does the full body of this full-figured beauty look like a construction worker’s as well? Halle handled all of this graciously, and in stride, even though social media is run over, and run by, homo trolls...
Halle Berry, née Maria Halle Berry, is the first actress with an African-American lineage to win an Academy Award for a performance in a leading role. She won this for Monster’s Ball, the story of a prison guard who falls in love with the wife of the prisoner he just executed. Halle has been involved in producing five of the films in which she has starred.
She also won a Golden Globe for playing the title role in Introducing Dorothy Dandridge, the true and poignant portrayal of an actress very cruelly victimized by racism, yet still nominated in 1954 for an Academy Award. Ms. Berry has also been nominated for three other Golden Globes. Besides all this, she has squared off against Sharon Stone in Catwoman.
Halle regularly sweeps the awards for people of color including the Black Entertainment Television (BET), and NAACP Image Awards, and she was nominated seven times for MTV Movie Awards.
Ms. Berry has strongly voiced her support of women’s issues, and just as vociferously her objection to paparazzi terrorizing her kids. Halle has been on the lists of the most beautiful, sexiest, and hottest women on Earth, by People (making the Top Ten seven times), Esquire, FHM, Empire, and Men’s Health.
Ashley “Ruby, Ruby, Ruby” Judd
“Judy, Judy, Judy,” is what Cary Grant said about Judy Garland. “Ruby” is from Ashley’s first movie, Ruby in Paradise, one that drew unusually positive notices. In 1993, Roger Ebert called it: “one of the very best performances of the year.”
If you’re wondering about the endless sarcasm directed at Ashley here, it’s because she blocked me on Facebook without any cause. With her smile, how long could I remain angry? Indefinitely, apparently, or I’ll go easy on her once she apologizes...
(This is a still in promotion of Big Stone Gap. This movie is mostly unknown, except to die-hard Ashley fans like me. She’s doing that cute thing she always does.)
Ashley is known in Hollywood as the one who should have had a much bigger career than she did...
Ashley is the type of woman that you could take camping, and while you bitch and moan about every last mosquito, she doesn’t complain once...
“Ass, grass, or cash, no one rides free.” Is anyone old enough to remember this bumper sticker, and its hitchhiker payment arrangement? This later became the mantra of the entire militant feminist movement. Ashley will explain:
“It demonstrated the young woman’s desire to be independent, and to be self-sufficient. Personally, I felt it was liberating and comforting that I could secure transport as a sexual quid pro quo.
“Traveling this country was now in reach for me and all my girlfriends, simply by pitching in, and putting out. I have put several copies of this American treasure of a bumper sticker onto my bedroom wall. It was available in pink, that’s my favorite color...”
“Okay, here’s my elevator pitch: I’ve been working on this script to great effect. It’s called Annie Ashley get your Cross. I cannot tell a lie, it’s very loosely based on Annie Oakley get your Gun, but boy-oh-boy, is it ever packed with Christian fun and excitement.”
“...In the climax, frontier Ashley says: ‘You’re a tough man to fall in love with, Jerold McKinley.’ She gives the sign of the cross. Then, in defiance of her moral compass, she kisses this bearded renegade in slo-mo. Then she shakes her fists skyward, again in slo-mo. She shouts: ‘It’s love at last.’
“Once baby Jesus transmits his blessings to her, she can enjoy star crossed love between a gunslinging gambler and a Great Plains, Sunday school teacher...
“But let’s turn back the wheels of time. In the pilot, Annie Ashley wants to build a little, red schoolhouse, one founded on the Christian principles of purity and austerity. She’ll call it The Highway to Heaven School for Curious Learners. But where will she get the money for her edifice, and the students to occupy the seats?
“Well, along comes Jerold. He has gambling loot, but is he as ethical as the Lord and Annie Ashley require? That could be trouble, lots of it.
“Yet the kids part of the equation promises to be easy-peasy. There are plenty of teenagers available as a troupe is ready to compete in the Christian Nationals. Nearby Omaha is hosting the big show, and they’re passing through Tippemerry Bluffs, where Annie Ashley has staked her claim.
“After brief discussion, Annie Ashley convinces the troupe that they need the learnin’, and she will provide this learnin’ if they work, dawn-to-dusk, her 200 acres of wheat fields, making cereal for Chicago. The troupe signs on, and boy-oh-boy are they in for adventure, and good, old-fashioned work, plenty of it.
“In the Easter episode, the County marshals ride into Annie Ashley’s farm, having heard talk of slave labor conditions, and of teens detoured from Christian fun and excitement in Omaha. Annie Ashley brings all her charges out for inspection, but they are all well-fed, and docile.
“The marshals realize they don’t have much of a case against Annie Ashley, the kids are fed after all, so they ride on ahead to the Bluffs to get water for their horses.
“In the end, the troupe actually wants readin’, writin’, and ’rithmetic from Annie Ashley, who now has 200 acres of fertile farmland, and Jerold McKinley, remember him? Well, Annie Ashley and Jerold hit it off big time.
“After all-night negotiations, and Annie Ashley’s first taste of scotch whiskey, Jerold bankrolls the schoolhouse.
“In the presence of the Lord, they soon enough get married, and have their honeymoon. While they’d love to have children, Annie Ashley is on in years, so she can’t honor Jerold with spawn. But the troupe’s teens are their kids, who needs wee ones? Curtain falls on episode 17.
“What do you think, Oprah?”
Ashley was answering questions at her most recent TED talk, when someone asked if she was really Harvard, and if her erudition was actually an affectation. This is her response, verbatim:
“Funny you should ask, it’s not an affectation. I am the real deal. I really am Harvard, I’m Class of ’10. We were “the Perfect 10s.” I’m not bragging, our class really was perfect. It was a stairway to heaven of greatness, and I played a major role.
“We represented an oh-so-glorious assemblage of future politicians, stateswomen, doctors, lawyers, each greater than the prior. I had the extreme privilege of socializing with these giants of thought, these captains of industry, present and future. From an ecumenical and epistemological basis alone, it was ethereal, heaven-like really.
“I shall never forget the raucous, even naughty, celebrations where my girls shared their militant, feminist camaraderie. I was on top of the world, looking down on creation, and the only reason I could find to explain this wonderful rush of superiority, was that I was, in fact, superior to the hoi polloi of lesser institutions.
“These included the seven, other Ivy League schools, which were effectively correspondence, night school, community colleges, only worthy of granting GED, high school equivalency diplomas.”
Ashley made a few, disastrous political picks. Her selections for President, Kirsten Gillibrand, and Elizabeth Warren, somehow missed the mark. After a businesswoman conference at her alma mater, Harvard Inc., Ms. Judd has decided to open a betting service with a twist.
She makes betting recommendations, and you bet opposite of her. Incorporated in Delaware as Bet Against Ashley, she will make picks for NCAA basketball games, political races, Oscar contention, the sky’s the limit.
Just look at Ashley’s starring roles. She consistently picks losers. Can you imagine how lucrative her Oscar bets would be, if you just Bet Against Ashley. Her University of Kentucky Basketball team is floundering this year, but do you think she’ll ever pick Duke or UNC Chapel Hill against her Wildcats? Ashley says UK, you say Michael Jordan’s alma mater, UNC, and ka-ching!
Ashley has a preternatural ability to pick the wrong team, movie, guys, anything. Get behind Ashley, when you Bet Against Ashley. Betting picks are by subscription only, and is only $500 a month. (There is no guarantee of improved returns, but come on, Ashley can never pick ’em right)...
Ashley has been pitching her new, eight-part, limited series, Ashley Knows Best, to television studio executives:
“I’m Ashley, just like my character here. I play a single mom who is Harvard-educated. I’m raising two, teenage girls, named Cindy and Marsha, in suburban Nashville. My estranged husband, Mike, left town with his floozy. She’s Melania, and she appears in episodes two and eight.
“His complaint with Ashley is that she was a terrible cook. Ashley hated that Mike never told her that he loved her. Once it became clear that Mike would remain unaffectionate, Ashley rejoined her Church group, to be with her first, true love, Baby Jesus.
“She always loved the easy camaraderie of those imbued with the spirit of Baby Jesus. Ashley quickly rose up the Church hierarchy, and she soon became the first, female deacon of her parish.
“Her children were immensely popular at the Church socials where they excelled at playing the banjo, and where they sang in the Gospel choir to standing room only crowds.
“By the final episode of Ashley Knows Best, Ashley, I mean the TV character, is creating a State-wide council of churches to fight prostitutes, battle anti-Christian sentiment at the grade-school level, promote worldwide, Christian purity and celibacy, and end misogyny.
“After I do all this, I run for the Senate and win. I have to fight the Crown Virus with double gloving, and hazmat suits. Even accused of fear mongering, I win again, but there are no businesses left, but I still win because Jesus brought the busineesses back to life with another of his Hail Marys. The message: We always win with Jesus...
“All the while, I’ve been wrestling with Baby Jesus’ position in my world. He has a profound disgust for gays and lesbians. He did nothing for African Americans, and he is against women’s reproductive rights, as well as their leadership in his Church.
“But I am deeply in love with Baby Jesus even though we disagree a bit. My pastor said that I just need to pray harder, and I’ll see things the way my savior does. Ashley, I mean the character Ashley, looks skyward for a sign of deliverance from lack of faith. Tension builds. Curtain falls.
“What do you think, Oprah?...”
Ashley Judd’s Mom, Naomi, was a registered nurse, yet never served in the war in Viet Nam. As a (former?) Republican, Naomi must have backed the War there, unless she was removed from any news source, and didn’t hear of Nixon’s secret bombing of Cambodia, and other war crimes by her GOP.
Somehow she never saw: The napalmed, naked girl; the Kent State murders by the National Guard; the Viet Cong shot in the head; and the self-immolating monk. Because she never learned how heinous the mostly Republican-led war was, sadly, she signed on with the GOP.
Ashley Judd was on a nonstop flight from JFK to Tokyo recently. She chewed out the man sitting next to her for five hours, because he loosened the belt of his trousers.
Standing before everyone in a cabin full of frightened travelers, she started to yell: “Keep it in your pants, women-hater. This is assault. You’re assaulting me! Stewardess! This passenger is a misogynist! Stewardess! Don’t turn your back on me! Do you see this?! People, I’m Harvard!”
Ashley was so incensed that she threw and landed punches. The pilot was almost forced to land in Hawaii so sky marshals could restrain Ashley’s outburst, but instead, the stewardesses fed her lunch so she couldn’t speak or fight. She spit that out, so the crew had to rely on their final resort in their passenger restraining arsenal, the ball gag. Later, she calmed down a bit after they plied her with booze.
By the time the 747 landed at Tokyo’s Benihana International Airport, Ashley could only be taken from the jet in a wheelchair. Judd got a gag order against release of this timely news from a female Los Angeles federal judge in exchange for back rubs.
I only heard this through the grapevine, because I regularly take the same flight to Tokyo for Other Letter’s Sumo wrestling coverage, but I was covering Trump and the coronavirus at OL New York HQ during this particular news cycle...
In response to the Coronavirus, Ashley Judd will be praying to Baby Jesus for absolution. She is setting out on a Praise the Lord Marathon. She will be taking a naked, late Winter hike of the entire Appalachian Trail in hopes that she catches the Coronavirus (or its equivalent).
Then she expects Baby Jesus to intercede, and “Stop that virus dead in its track, or my name isn’t Ashley Judd, blesséd by the Lord, Baby Jesus.”
Ashley also added: “I’m looking for yet another Baby Jesus miracle, and by catching Coronavirus, I know I’ll have one soon enough. I’m already on track, because I’ve seen Marian apparitions — the ghost of Mary, Jesus’ mom.
“Once Baby Jesus saves me from Coronavirus with his miracle, then I have a clear track to beatification, and sainthood. I’ve always wanted sainthood ever since Mother Teresa was a big deal. I have scores of years left on this Earth, but I want an exit strategy in keeping with my Lord, Baby Jesus. I need to honor him to the highest with my profound passion for him.
“Plus, I’ve been to Our Lady of Fátima. I could have seen all that Da Vinci and Michelangelo crap on my trip to Europe, but I spent the entire summer in Fátima contemplating the miracle of Baby Jesus....”
Our favorite heroine will soon be releasing her memoir, Ashley Judd was Robbed. In it, Ashley recounts how rapists stole her innocence, and Harvey Weinstein ended her greatest career prospects. She was about to become a Hobbit in Lord of the Rings, before the now-disgraced movie mogul derailed those plans for Lilliputian greatness.
I caught up with Ashley as she was climbing Mount Katahdin in the deepest brush of rural Maine. Ms. Judd explained how she rose from the darkest of despair, and you may be surprised at what kept her going:
“I started to learn the Negro, slave spirituals of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. My mom, Naomi, knows all of them. I’ll give you a sample:
‘You gotsta believe in Baby Jesus, you just gotsta. Since I was a youngun’, I just knew Baby Jesus would get here by hook or by crook, and wudja know, I get to see him in visions.’
“Now here’s the tricky part, the chorus:”
“‘Dang, Baby Jesus, dang. I love you so effin’ much. Tra, la, la. Tra, la, la...’ Then the next verse, its in rondelay form. I hand it off, you hand it back. Think hot potato, and you got it!’”
“Okay, I guess, but isn’t the Negro lyric racist?”
“Not at all, it celebrates how the Hill people happily live, side-by-side, with their shackled Negroes.
“And it seems spoken, not sung.”
“It’s yelped, not exactly sung, which is the native tongue of us Kentucky hillbillies. We’re lifelong yelpers.
“Our spirituals reflect where we stand on the totem pole. Jesus honors the poor, and so do we, because poverty is where we belong in Kentucky, right beside our Senator McConnell, looking up at the rest of America. Poverty shows closeness to God’s principles. Poverty is close to godliness.
“Just because we keep voting in McConnell and we’s still dirt poor, don’t mean we’s stupid, we just gotsta love Baby Jesus more. The problem ain’t McConnell, our poverty is because we might miss church once a year. Church gets our minds off of doing anything about our poverty, and instead, thinking all about the black maze of Baby Jesus.
“When I feel blue, I start chanting ‘I gotsta love my baby Jesus,’ over and over. I forget everything except this chant. This cleans my thinking right up.
“If I want to remember who I am, I transport myself back to being a child. I was living in a one-room shack with no indoor plumbing, and my family hitched rides into Louisville to be domestics in mansions where boss ladies screamed at us because we dressed in rags. That’s who I am. I’m a hillbilly who gangsta loves baby Jesus.
”Yet with the gotsta-love-Jesus culture, I cannot help but remember how pure of spirit we were, and how elated we were just to be alive, because Baby Jesus gave us life...”
Here’s a find, an Ashley Judd Youtube on the Kentucky Bible Broadcasting Network:
“If you’re going at Baby Jesus long and hard like I do, you need both quality refreshment, and serious hydration, so you need Ashley Judd’s Holy Water. Each 12-ounce bottle has been blessed by me, and I’m a certified marriage officiant...”
Then Ashley broke from her own commericial and offered this sage, insight regarding Christian devotion:
“...Once you get on board the baby Jesus love train then you can leverage your profound passion for him with your desire for loving from the twelve apostles, who take turns with their last supper offerings.
“Then you got it going on all cylinders, and you can really set the joint on fire. Hot! Hot! Hot! Christian women got it all going on!...”
Here’s a YouTube find. Ashley was competing for Miss Kentucky, and out of boredom, the master of ceremonies cut her off during the explanation of her aspirations:
“Our next contestant is Miss Asheville. Tell us about yourself, and why you’d like to be Miss Kentucky.”
“I’m Ashley Judd, and I’m cute and perky, with a dash of militant feminism. I’d like to take my Miss Kentucky crown and parlay it into a Senate seat followed by a run for President. Then I’d free all the beasts of burden—”
“Our next contestant is Miss Louisville. Tell us about yourself and why you’d like to be Miss Kentucky.”
“I like to wiggle my butt, then lean over in low-cut dresses, and guys whistle when I do.”
“Miss Louisville is our new, Miss Kentucky...”
I always shed a tear watching Ashley’s youthful optimism squashed.
Regular readers of these pages know what I think of Ashley’s South. Using an example, let me try to phrase this succinctly.
When the Klan lynched Blacks just because they could get away with it, why did they burn Crosses? Was this in defiance of their Lord, Jesus the Christ, or in solidarity with him? The consensus I received was that it was in solidarity. Their Christ looked positively on murdering people, solely because of their skin color. Christ celebrates making people fear and run for their lives.
The de facto Southern religion is Christianity, and these two-faced Christians did absolutely nothing to stop both bigotry and lynching. Somehow, with the Confederate flags waving, they are proud of being bigots and murderers. If there was a real savior, he would be coming at the lot of them with hatchets, and AK-47s.
The new South is the old South with Whole Foods Markets, while their open-carry gun culture is increasingly lethal, and their religion increasingly oppressive of rights, especially women’s reproductive rights.
This brings me back to Ashley Judd, and the reason for raising holy Hell here. She is a well-known progressive, a voice of reason, a beacon of light shining through the Southern filth. Then why is she living in ground zero of hatred and intolerance? If I ever met her, I would ask her: What the Hell are you doing in that Southern snake pit?
Dean Cain is an actor I had never heard of, and likely, no one else had either. Cain tried to take down Ashley Judd because she has a puffy face, and because she just did a promo for Presidential candidate, Elizabeth Warren. He wanted to hurt her by belittling apparent obesity.
Well, Cain, a capo of the Fascists for Trump Campaign, made an a*hole of himself. She’s puffy faced because she has migraine headaches, and she’s being treated with Botox, a medication whose major side effect is bloating.
Given that Cain is ape excrement, let us turn our attention to Ashley Judd’s treatment modality. Botox has the potential of ruining her face, and the beauty of her face is an obvious selling point in her career as an actress. Vanderbilt, where she’s being “treated,” is not a U.S. News and World Report top hospital, but New York Presbyterian is (NYP has interns from Ivy League, Cornell, and Columbia).
IMHO, Ashley is being treated on the cheap, likely by Mexican med school grads flooding the Southern border in caravans at nightfall. To Ashley, and her medical treatment “straw hat and dungarees team,” good health-care, is good enough health-care.
Vanderbilt is the equivalent of Mexican health-care. I mean, come on, it’s South of the Mason-Dixon Line. Southern health-care is seen elsewhere as a form of doctor-patient sadomasochism. When Ashley emerges from “treatment” as Joan Rivers incarnate, and when the movie offers all disappear, she won’t have anyone to blame but herself. People will refer to her as Joan, or Ms. Rivers, here forward.
I wanted to be her health proxy, and put her on the course to wellness, but she ignores my entreaties. Ashley confided in me: “I’m not good enough to get modern, Northern, health-care. I’m not. I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m a Southern woman after all, and I live for Christianity, which is a homophobic, misogynistic cult. Just do the math...”
Ashley, at your Weinstein sexual extortion trial, be prepared to serve as prosecutor. Your attorney could come up lame. Develop a legal patter. Raise your voice and point at Weinstein. Slam your fist on the table and demand a change in venue. Because we all know you’ll never get a fair trial in this town.
Offer appropriate penance for Weinstein. Demand castration so no one has to again go through what you did. Bring sushi knives to the bench to drive home the point. Brandish the knives while you interrogate Weinstein. Hurl one right by his ear. Discuss Lorena Bobbitt at length, and ask Weinstein if castration is acceptable punishment for a lifetime of abuse. Brandish the sushi knives at key points in your delivery.
If the judge asks what this has to do with your interrogation, say you’re getting to that. Make it known early on that this isn’t questioning, its interrogation. The judge will appreciate that you’re so direct and to the point, as court time costs money.
And if you can get the witness to spill his guts early on, you could all wrap it up early and go golfing. Or play your favorite, basketball, play whatever leisure activity you want while you’re not in the courtroom grilling witness after witness.
I was once a newbie like you, Ashley, anxious to stick it to the man. Well, the man backed off. Now, it’s your turn to get justice.
As I watch the Screen Actors’ Guild Awards, I wonder what Ashley Judd is up to. These are all her peers, but she may have gotten beyond the vanity of the silver screen. She needs to find a Second Act.
Now that Bombshell bombed, Charlize Theron is a greeter at Burger King. She has found precious dignity asking: “Would you like fries with that?” and “Take a seat anywhere, have it your way.”
Heather Graham was just seen with a Facebook-Celebrity-Edition date that she scrounged up. Apparently, Heather’s life is secure as a trophy wife for some producer type. She no longer needs to work for the post office as a postal courier, and doesn’t care about her loss of financial independence being her man’s pet.
Gwynnie is set for life with her Goop, and her husband, Chadley Wonder-bred. She’ll be hawking vibrators until she’s 95 years old.
But what about Ashley, point woman of the Big Four? She gave up on politics, she now lives on the periphery of society hunting raccoons with her 12-gauge. Last I heard, she spends her Screen Actors’ Guild pension on Milky Way bars, and she weighs North of 450 pounds.
Is there anything Ashley can do besides get fat? Couldn’t she work at Thorntons, the convenience store at the gas station chain? That’s dignified labor, not so vaunted as chasing Oscar gold perhaps, but it is something. Working nights, and far off the radar, can be her self worth, and her salvation.
Ashley, if you’re out there, bring your pillow to work to keep in your employee locker. I mean for down time, when it gets slow...
Here’s the latest from our favorite comeback star:
“Ashley Judd here, with another Baby Jesus TV Minute. Are you tired of all the humiliation you get because of your passion for baby Jesus? Then just consider with whom you’ll be spending eternity. That’s right, with Baby Jesus.
“By all accounts, he’s well toned, a great conversationalist, and an even better lover. Every girl engaged to Baby Jesus can pepper him with questions, and love him fiercely (there’s a trillion instances of Baby Jesus, so everyone has at him at once).
“Every Jewish woman is eating their heart out. I’m Ashley Judd, and this has been another Baby Jesus TV Minute.”
Ashley Judd has published yet another spirituality book. This one is entitled: Where can I put the Love of Baby Jesus? In it, she answers many nagging questions about her faith:
“...You know how much I love baby Jesus — so effing much. Yet I am asked all the time how our Savior can be so good to Hollywood superstars, but he locks out the poor people from the feeding trough.
“The answer is simple: Jesus allows poverty because the poor deserve their poverty, they enjoy living in squalor. God is just, good, and true, but if you’re just a loser, what can he do? Baby Jesus is all-powerful, but he isn’t that all-powerful. South Americans take note. That was an easy answer.
“Why do Christians proselytize Jews and Muslims? Come on, do I have to answer this? Christians are pure and holy, everyone else is dirty and gross. We know that Jews and Muslims have a raw deal. We know their religion sucks, so we straighten them out by baptizing and cleansing away their lesser religion.
“We have mayo and Wonder Bread, we have puritanical sex, we’re better than all those homos and lesbos, so we extend our hand out to the heathen to join us on the other side. Teenage and preggers is just fine when you walk with the Lord.
“We’re all sinners, but I get redeemed for my sins. If someone is an alcoholic, they don’t need to suffer guilt, they can just keep on drinking. If you’re into the sacramental sauce, where else do you belong, but with Christianity.
“I sin all the time, every time, all Christians do, and if Jews and Muslims were honest, they’d say they’re the filthiest of sinners. Baby Jesus died on the Cross for our sins. If he hadn’t done that, we’d all live in the filth of our sins. By dying on the Cross, Baby Jesus proved his love for the Christian biomass...”
Ashley Judd has just put out a book about her spirituality. It’s entitled: Ten Days To A New You With Ashley Judd — And Baby Jesus... Here’s a passage:
“...Once you join Baby Jesus, and take on his fight, then it all falls into place. Your existence — your religious, spiritual, and professional spheres — align with Baby Jesus’, and it is all systems go.
“Once you firmly have Baby Jesus in your camp, you’ll notice how powerful you are in interpersonal relationships, in business negotiations, and yes, even day-to-day chores like cooking and cleaning are suddenly a snap. You have Baby Jesus’ genius, charisma, and his strength from on high is at your fingertips. Baby Jesus typically maintains a service orientation.
“You are in charge of your life now, no one else takes your steering wheel except Baby Jesus. You call the shots, it’s your show, and Baby Jesus and your pastor is your director. There isn’t any looking back again. You wave goodbye to all the inferiors who’ve held you back your entire life. Say: ‘Bye, bye! I’d like Baby Jesus’ Penthouse, please.’ That kinda spiritual elevator to the heavens. Whoosh!!
“Baby Jesus is your drug from here forward, forget drinking, smoking, or eating. You don’t need peer pressure to quit eating Milky Ways, or vino, you have ever-present Baby Jesus at your side, nudging you forward, to bounce off ideas to keep your sobriety. You’re up in the Heavens gazing into Baby Jesus’ loving eyes.
“You’ll hop out of bed every morning, looking forward to chitchatting with Baby Jesus. My opener at 6AM is: ‘Baby Jesus, whatcha got?’ He makes it clear what I’m to do, and I do it!!! What could be easier or simpler?
“It’s just you and the Baby Jesus forevermore. Keep it cool, but for all you girls out there, he makes a great lover. Soon, your passion for the Baby Jesus will be without bound. I threw feminism out the window once Baby Jesus arrived from Heaven. I’m the fair, weaker sex, and he protects me from harm, so I submit to his will. If this is extortion, count me in.
“If my head is spinning, Baby Jesus tells me to lay down, and he’ll take care of everything. He’ll offer new found Baby Jesus pearls of wisdom, which I greedily swallow whole. I am so blessed to have Baby Jesus in my life, and you can be, too.
“Your ultimate goal is to marry Baby Jesus, and Chapter 38 is devoted to marrying the Lord without joining your local nunnery. You will also be making other goals with Baby Jesus, some he wants for you, others you’d hope he’d accomplish with you.
“Memorize the 893 pages of this book, and soon you, too, will be on Baby Jesus’ wavelength, you’ll be playing from the same play-book that Baby Jesus does. Follow my program, show Baby Jesus all the passion you have for him, and guaranteed, you will reach the highest high. Nothing could be that simple.
“Don’t forget to visit your Methodist Church, now in two flavors: Traditionalist, or actively trying to exterminate the gay problem through intervention; or modern, and just holier than thou. Because when you’re one of the chosen people, you have god’s permission to go at anyone...”
Ashley offers the celebrity, freshman orientation at Harvard. Because Ashley is a famous alumnus, she only shows around the creme de la creme de la creme. I caught up to her in Harvard Yard as she delivered her well-memorized spiel:
“You’re Harvard because you want to network, and hobnob with other very important people. If you wanted to be a grunge, you’d be going to MIT. You’re not Harvard because you want to learn anything. No, you’re Harvard because you want to cultivate relationships with the powerful, wealthy, and influential. Ones just like yourself.
“Now, if you look to your left, this is where the annual panty raid is held for incoming freshmen. Ah, such warm memories of being a freshwoman. You’ll quickly learn your place in the pecking order of the Harvard patriarchy, as I did. Although you could just go lesbo, and become a Lesbian Studies major. Ick!
“Here, on the other side of Harvard Square, is the spire of the Cathedral of the Holier than Thou. I spent many nights there getting in touch with my Baby Jesus as we discussed his plans for me, and he told me of all the passion he had for me.
“Hey, Jews! You’re missing out on civilization! It’s never too late to convert! Join a real goy, and come on back to my celebrity quarters for Wonder-Bread and mayo, my treat.
“Well, thank you very much for letting me guide you. As promised, here are your framed, eight-by-ten-inch glossies of myself to put on your Harvard dorm-room, mahogany credenzas. Does anything say Harvard more than mahogany, and oak-panelled dorms?
“When you have the world’s largest endowment, luxury and extravagance just comes with the territory. By the way, Harvard does not believe in socially conscious investing, so we’ll be on top of the heap until the only ones left on Earth are the cockroaches...”
Ashley’s wonderful hate group, the Methodist Church, just held a vote. They have decided to separate the 53% majority, the hard core bigots, from the rest of the mildly intolerant. My question for Ashley would be: Are you joining the institutionalized-homophobia and bigoted Traditionalists, or are you sticking with the slightly loony?
At issue, Methodists’ traditional opinion that same-sex union is against the teachings of Baby Jesus. Should gays and lesbians be imbued with full human rights, or should they continue to be locked out in the name of Baby Jesus?
Somehow you crazies are to decide the rights of others who are complete strangers to you. Ashley is stewing over this question as we speak, mulling over her precious Harvard texts on how to resolve moral dilemmas, and conferring with other loony-bird Christians.
I’m sure Ashley gives a ton of money to her church as they’re in the process of changing its name to Saint Ashley’s Protector of Kentucky.
When she took communion her preacher said: “May this story that changed everything change you.” Her pastor was, of course, referencing the story behind the construction funding of the Ashley Contemplation Wing of Saint Ashley’s. The Ashley Vestibule is expected to contain a bookshelf with very current Biblical monographs.
Deacon Blues went on to say that Ashley’s giving, changes Ashley at a DNA level. What’s more, she needs to fork over more dough to stay in good stead with her Savior. Otherwise, she can forget front row of pew seating.
I will just add this: Ashley disappoints me to no end, we do not have any commonality of belief to pursue this imaginary relationship. It is because her religion is so screwy, as is her politics.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ashley Judd wrote back to me!
“Other Letter, I see what you wrote about me. You will never know the passion I feel for the Christ child. How he straightens me right out, how he is always around, and not spending time with two billion other Christians.
“He’s by my side, and he would be your side, too, if you only let him into your bedroom, your home, your neighborhood.
“Baby Jesus is the dope, Other. You haven’t lived life until Baby Jesus is front and center everywhere in your life’s path. I am not just another whack-a-doodler Christian, I am well on my way to achieving Baby Jesus enlightenment!
“Deacon Blues guaranteed that I’d soon be getting my Madonna Blue Belt, ready for down and dirty baby Jesus scuffles, and even combat. Heathens better watch their keesters! Ashley’s comin’ to get y’all!
“My pastor, my spiritual advisor, my therapist, my psychologist, and my psychiatrist all say that I need to dump anyone that steps between me and my gorgeous baby Jesus.
“Baby Jesus always comes first! He is my spiritual master! I cannot live without him! He is so potent and overpowering! I love baby Jesus so effing much!”
Have you ever had an epiphany, when you finally know what someone is all about? When you have done everything in your power to get them to see the light, and they permanently remain entirely blind?
When you realize that she’s not for you, that her real soul mate is a Jesus freak at a Jesus freak convention. This is my Ashley Judd epiphany. I have much better things that I could be doing with my time than deprogramming, and getting friction from, a pathetic Jesus freak who is completely brainwashed, one who’s on a par with a Scientologist...
There is a footnote to my romance with imaginary Ashley. We spent months in premarital therapy. The relationship counselor said we had too much Sid and Nancy going on, and not enough Bogey and Bacall.
Our typically, ice-water-in-her-veins therapist ran out of a session after a particularly long argument, crying: “I can’t work under these conditions!!” This was the end of our marital therapy, and the end of the Other-Judd axis of power...
We were dancing our last waltz, when I asked Ashley: “Who did you want more, Baby Jesus or me?”
Eyes glazed over, she replied: “Baby Jesus, I need him more than life itself. He is my morning, noon, and night. He is my sun, my moon, and my stars. I cannot survive without the love of my Baby Jesus, with my pastor’s patient counsel being a close second.
“Other, join us in Christ, it is the only way [she extended her hand, which I pushed away, like in a scene from Invasion of the Body Snatchers]...”
Ashley Judd has believed in a loving god, and has felt this belief helps form a foundation of serenity, and has tried to spread the “good word” in the past. Yet she should be clear that it’s a loving god for her, many are not blessed as she is.
How are poor neighborhoods in America overseen by this loving god? The entire Third World has been cursed from cradle to grave. Then why did god force them to live in poverty? If this incompetent god isn’t keeping the world from bursting at the seams, what is?
Humanity is one of the very few species in Creation that will kill their own kind. The force preventing species annihilation is our sexual drive, because it’s typically intertwined with love and caring. Humankind tends to nurture as a result of this sexual drive.
The only loving god we have is the kindness that might be found in one another. Goodwill towards men, women, and children, keeps the earth revolving.
Does Ashley believe that some guy in the clouds runs the show, someone who’s somehow found the time to oversee billions of peoples’ lives? Having a loving god typically means that this god knows you on an individual basis, is a source of providence, and might look out for you, but the implausibility of this “loving god” is rarely addressed.
If Ashley is still devout as she seemed earlier, she refuses to speak about this religious confusion. In fact, she may have felt that the standard definition of god always put a square peg in a round hole, this omnipotent, loving god has a poor fit with reality.
Ashley is very familiar with Twelve-Step programs, yet disconnecting from a wholly impractical definition of god, one which is a central tenet of the Steps, can easily be an impediment to recovery.
The real spirituality is everywhere around us, but never in the clouds above us. To summon strength, anyone can witness the fortitude and methods of those before us, and of those today...
Ashley is at peace with her all-powerful creator. If you don’t know, Ashley had an abortion after being impregnated by a relative, so how could she ever be in peace with her creator? By Ashley’s religious calculus, she has to resolve how a brutal rape was in God’s plan.
If she believed in an initial set and forget, or a create and wait, force behind Creation, she’d understand that our existence, and our life experience was never preordained, pre-governed, or predetermined.
Instead, with a greater, more practical application of Creation’s purpose, we exist to keep our lives and those around us on track. We are tasked with keeping Creation on the straight and narrow. The creator’s work is finished, he (or she or gender-neutral) has given humanity the tools to move mountains, he won’t be moving any himself.
If Ashley so chose, she may provide support to those who find themselves dealing with sexual assault. This would make the worthwhile, and joyful, out of the worthless, and excruciatingly painful...
Here’s a question via the dedicated chat line I have with framed women’s libber, and militant feminist, Ms. Judd:
Ashley, wouldn’t you say that if women learned at an early age to defer to men, men would go easier on women, and women would put up less of a fight when they were used?
Everyone would be happier if women accepted being second class, and internalized their inferiority, as well as their biological limitations.
Ashley, why don’t you circulate these ideas with your United Nations pals as part of a rights package honoring women’s limitations? I await your response, and careful consideration...
I was culling my old video tape collection, when I found this gem:
“...Which is why Paltrow would only do the Shakespeare in Love remake for over $30 million. Although she’d do it for much less if there was an intelligible script, but the entire cast couldn’t carry the Elizabethan English last time. How could they carry it this time without another snow job read?”
“You gave Shakespeare four stars, didn’t you, Roger?”
“You’re done, Gene. Our next movie, Elves Take Over Santa’s Toy Factory, answers the question: If the labor relations between elf and Claus disintegrated, and the elves staged a walkout during the Christmas rush, could the holiday be saved?
“Quentin Tarantino has put together another masterpiece of modern cinema. Toy Factory has it all: women being murdered, men murdering the women, women being tortured — except it all takes place on the North Pole with mostly elves, not humans, who aren’t gender-neutral. Could anyone ask for more?
“Unfortunately, Gene, we don’t get to review many movies about elves pitted against Santa, but we have a great one here. The title role, Che Guevara-Elf, is done to a turn by Ashley Judd. Here, Ashley plays against type and gender as a male, violently-aggressive leprechaun. Her role as a bloodthirsty elf in mortal combat with Santa might at last be her Oscar-winner.
“This is the superhero breakout role we’ve all been waiting to see Ashley play. I never thought I’d be rooting so much for an elf, one dead set to do in Saint Nick, but I was on my feet when Ashley-Che Guevara-Elf signals the other elves in the toy factory to charge Santa’s back offices of Claus Enterprises.
“After a full half-hour shootout, the casualties are massive. With their superior firepower, Mister and Missus Santa are able to put away the rebellion, but not without Santa losing a hand, and a foot. The G rating was well-deserved, because everyone must see Elves Take Over Santa’s Toy Factory. It’s a breath of fresh air during another, tired Christmas season.
“Gene, we review thousands of movies each and every year, but have you ever felt so exhilarated watching a live-action, super hero movie about rebellious elves with assault rifles, hand grenades, and machetes?
“This movie was absolutely cathartic. It made me rethink Christianity, and Jesus’ place as a seasonal, economic stimulus. This relights the fires under our blessed, capitalistic, Christian holiday trees.
“Once the elves realized that lower toy output meant economic recession, Ashley’s character, Che Guevara-Elf, got her elves right back in the toy factory. This was my signal to do my share to get the economy in high gear, so as soon as I left the aisle seats at the Rialto, I hustled Christmas gifts for all my brood.
“Gene, I’m giving this thumbs up, way up. This was enthralling. I am a changed man. Ashley Judd has saved Christmas for all of us this year.”
“I can’t agree with you, Roger. Don’t have a heart attack on me, big guy. I just wasn’t convinced that they were real elves. Ashley Judd is not an elf, she is not the red-and-green, Rambo super hero she plays here. She took out, what, three dozen, non-union elves?
“I’m not being Scrooge, but I just couldn’t buy into Ms. Judd with green-and-red tights, prancing around, doing an Irish jig, with a semi-automatic assault rifle. I’m sorry, but this just didn’t work for me.
“I love our next movie though, it’s a sequel that’s forty years in the making. It interleaves the Dirty Harry series with the Charles Bronson blaxploitation classics. This warmed the cockles of my heart.
“Every single person that bled to death, had it coming big time. The pusher, the junkie, all blown to bits. Is there anything more satisfying in cinema, than subway shootouts between the under-armed, underclass, and SWAT teams in armored vehicles, especially for the holidays?...”
Ashley Judd has a new gig. In a University of Kentucky coaching shake-up, Ashley will be interim head coach of UK Basketball. It’s late in the season for Ashley’s favorite team, and their current coach was caught up in yet another recruiting scandal, so alumni wanted to bring in UK’s favorite alum.
Ashley has been a huge UK basketball booster for decades, but could she take home an NCAA title for the Wildcats? Ms. Judd is also Harvard and this has effected her coaching style. I caught up to her as she led her team through drills:
“I’m dribbling, I’m dribbling. I’m looking around. I’m using my peripheral vision. Where’s Jenkins? Okay, I don’t see Jenkins. Now, wait, where’s McIntyre? Okay, do I dish outside to McIntyre, or do I post up the middle for the score?
“I’m dribbling, I’m dribbling. I need to decide if McIntyre gets the ball, or do I keep it? Do I dish, or do I not dish? I dribble between my legs. Can you bring the ball over here? We shouldn’t showboat.
“I move outside the perimeter, then back inside the perimeter. I see an open shot. Do I shoot, do I pass? What should I do? Okay, I like this shooting opportunity. I get ready, two hands on the ball, I aim, I jump, and I fire.
“Okay, that didn’t hit the backboard, it was really meant for Jenkins, and Jenkins scores. This shows the importance of teamwork.
“I call for the ball. I have the hot hand, so I get the ball. I’m dribbling, I’m dribbling. I’m surveying the hardwood. Are there any likely candidates who can receive my pass of the ball?
“Jenkins defense is seven feet from him, and McIntyre’s defense is five feet from him. Then is Jenkins the one to get the ball? Yet McIntyre is closer to the net, so perhaps he deserves the ball?
“We can’t run Harvard’s Nordic Model here. We cannot use math models right now, we just don’t have the time. I can’t ask my teammates what to do. Do I call a timeout to have coach help me decide?
“You don’t have unlimited timeouts though, and besides I’m also the coach, so we have an existential two-body problem. I can’t call a timeout just so I can speak to myself. In a multi-verse with a time warp perhaps this would be feasible, but we’re only limited to three dimensions here.
“This is the conundrum, let’s call it Ashley’s Conundrum. A player cannot call on the coach for help, when the coach is herself. So I’m dribbling, I’m dribbling. My passing options are only finite, they are by no means infinite.
“I’m checking the clock. Tick-tock, tick-tock. I take a mental note of the time. This could be important later, but now we plow forward, we’re staying in the moment. Do I have enough time to succeed in my mission to pass the ball?
“I’m dribbling, I’m dribbling. I’m taking mental notes of the entire defensive alignment. I compare this with similar notes of my offensive alignment. Who do I pass the basketball to who can exploit weaknesses in their defense? Where are there holes in their stratagems? What models do I have that can be quickly deployed as counter-defensives?
“I’m dribbling, I’m dribbling. I use one hand while I dribble, two handed-dribbling is a rules violation. I know you’re all new to my game insight, so I’m giving you every tactical advantage — employ one-handed dribbling, at all times.
“And don’t you dare pull any Harlem Globetrotter nonsense. The alumni paid a pretty penny to watch you win ball games, not to watch you showboat...”
Ashley Judd will be facing off against Harvey “The Pig” Weinstein. Weinstein is up on charges because he short-circuited Ashley’s acting career. Weinstein’s M.O. is that he never romances women, he uses his wealth, power, and prestige to coerce sex out of them. If he fails, he goes about ruining the actress’ career, just as he did to Ashley.
Weinstein chose a woman named Donna Rotunno as his attorney, solely because, nominally as a woman, she is supposed to represent Weinstein’s unbiased appreciation for the opposite gender.
This brings to mind Rachel Mitchell, who was the one who tried to take down Dr. Christine Blasey Ford. Dr. Ford testified against the lecherous pretender to the Supreme Court, Brett Kavanaugh. Mitchell was a Republican lackey and toady, who was just as disloyal to her own gender as is Rotunno.
Like Mitchell, Rotunno’s greatest concern was not acting ethically. Both the Kavanaugh and Weinstein lawyers didn’t, and don’t, have any problem betraying their gender. Money means everything, morality really doesn’t figure much with either of them.
Rotunno’s life work is springing men from jail sentences for sex crimes (or is the polite term, defending?) Rotunno must have sold her soul to Satan, she must have a vendetta against women who have been victimized, or she feels women who are raped should learn to just enjoy it.
Weinstein exploits any women he’s ever been in contact with, including his wife, and his lawyer is no exception. Rotunno’s profession obviously exploits her for her gender, even for her case work not involving Weinstein.
The defense team wants to portray Weinstein as being capable of calmly and chastely interacting with a woman in a courtroom. They need to have the jury see Weinstein whispering in her ear without signs of duress, or reaching for his groin.
Weinstein has been seen limping around the courthouse, but who would buy into this being any real disability? Faking illness to avoid jail time was a tactic of Casa Nostra Capo, Vincent Gigante. Would anyone put a faux sympathy appeal beyond Weinstein, especially since he’s been seen of late hobnobbing at posh night clubs?
Faking frailty could easily prejudice a jury towards leniency of Weinstein, so if Weinstein cannot walk, sit him down in a wheelchair, or lash him to a walker, where he belongs. And if he’s having a heart attack, put him in a hospital for a day or two, until he snaps out of it...
This is the holiday season which means just one thing, Ashley Judd Public Service Announcements for Baby Jesus. Here is one of her best:
Ashley in anger: “Kent, you can’t have it both ways, not on my watch.”
Then a man in a beret: “And cut!”
A stagehand calls out to Ashley: “Great work, Ms. Judd!”
Ashley, walking towards the camera: “I know it was, but did you also know that Baby Jesus is under attack by the homo. That’s right, the homo is attacking our pure and Holy house of worship, be it Methodist — where I call home — Baptist, Fundamentalist, or Pentacostal. Dang, even the Catholics are getting hit hard by the homo.
“That’s right, the queer are everywhere. The only way to save your house of worship from the homo is by eradicating them via your tax-exempt donations. We have very effective, political action committees in place that work at blocking the homo from all civil rights, they just need your contributions.
“Please, give us your money, so we can root out and terminate the gay and lesbo. I am Ashley Judd, and on behalf of the Methodist Church, I endorse this message...”
[Last Easter, Ashley was still espousing her affiliation for the Methodist Church, another Christian, hate-group. She may have changed her tune, I cannot say for certain. This is an admittedly, very weak attempt to keep her on the straight and narrow (no pun intended)...]
Nicole “Ginger Tabby” Kidman
The high priestess of passion, from a still that promotes Eyes Wide Shut. Nikky plays Alice Harford, a woman bored to tears by an increasingly loveless marriage.
Nikky keeps an airplane cabin mock-up in her living room just for kicks. If she could, she’d always be flying the friendly skies. Ms. Kidman had dreams of staying a stewardess, now long shattered by accepting Hollywood movie offers.
That’s right, she went to flight school where their mantra remains: “Coffee, tea, or me?... Thank you. I’ll be right back with your snacks.” If she shaked her booty, she would be the snack, and invited to some wealthy man’s hotel room for liberated girl experiences that later appeared in Eyes Wide Shut.
All that remains of these happier times, is the wide body, cross-sectional cabin of a McDonnell-Douglas DC-10 she keeps in the back of her living room. It was given to her as a gift from her fellow stewardesses. As Nikky often says: “I’m Nikky, fly me to anywhere on earth. I’m ready to please you, and satisfy your every traveling need...”
Nikky even confided to me that if there was trouble on set, she would run home to sit in her airplane cabin. She sits and thinks about the olden days when life was so much simpler, and stewardesses wore short skirts instead of trousers...
Nikky looks better recently than she’s been. She looks twenty years younger than other recent photos. I spoke with her publicist, and she said that three-hour long, Pilates sessions with her master mentor, Dylan MacGyver, is the main reason.
Also, she cut back on coffee, and afternoon shots of tequila, as well as no longer doing peyote with her buds from the “Nashville enlightenment scene”.
The “Nashvilles” as they are more popularly known, eschew brewed buzzes for mind blowing cacti remedies in efforts to forget the cares of the day, and anything else, permanently...
All the movie studios keep this quiet, but Nikky is seven-foot-tall. In every role she’s ever been in, she plays opposite leading men on stilts.
She was considering the WNBA, the Women’s National Basketball Association, but she got the lead in Bush Christmas (1983) (in the Land of Oz, the Bush means the Australian Outback, not the un-Christian term).
If she ever finds herself back in the romance market, or on the auction block as a super-hot property, I’ll take her regardless of her gigantism. Just find me an extra pair of stilts, and we’re good to go.
(Don’t believe the rumors that Nikky’s actually 5' 11" tall, and not 7' 0", but Karlie Kloss is 6' 1½")...
Nikky does seem to be unusually warm and affectionate but also a bit naive, especially regarding her ex, Tom Cruise, and Scientology...
Following the intergalactic invasion, we have this from the Aussie-sector slave auction:
“Nikky Kidman: nice look, nice spirit, I open bidding at 5 million Krupets. She will do windows without any backtalk...”
Nicole Kidman appeared at the Critics Choice Awards. Hmm, was I wrong all along about Ms. Kidman? I mean she wasn’t goofy, she was clear-eyed, and as sharp as a tack. If she did love the sauce, she doesn’t love it anymore. The best keeps getting better.
Nicole Kidman just flew into LAX for the Golden Globes. Yet there is very sad news to report: Nicole’s home in the Aussie countryside was reduced to ashes, along with all the precious memories that she and her husband have shared, and there have been at least one or two of them.
There are times, Nikky, when you just need to say: “Let it burn.” (Before anyone sends me any hate email, or firebombs my house, please read below...)
At a 2020, New Year’s Eve show, Keith called his wife, “Baby girl...” Is this meant to be affectionate, or condescending? It sounds like a put down to me, a huge one, and he unloaded it just before she was going to speak.
If anyone believes that celebrity is a ticket to permanent bliss, they are so sadly mistaken. The famous have much more tools like money, litigation, and a powerful, bully pulpit, to go at one another...
Nicole was the weakest in the cast of the Stepford Wives. She looked lost. She’s not a comic actress or one known for melodrama. She seems to gravitate toward serious roles.
The dialog for her character may not have been fully crystallized. She may have been dealing with personal trauma — her moppets went Scientology (I don’t care at all for the cult of Scientology, just as I don’t for the human rights-repressing cult of Catholicism).
I don’t remember Nicole ever playing a character part or the sidekick, only the leading lady. Nicole was phenomenal in Eyes Wide Shut and Moulin Rouge, but not here.
(Although those who cannot act, critique acting...)
Nicole has a Christmas card photo for Instagram of her and her husband. Nikky wears a fedora raked downward that might befit a cannabis distributor, while her husband wears a baseball cap that would be seen on a farm equipment salesman. Nikky, when you tire of Mr. John Deere, look me up. I’m in the Yellow Pages under “Other Letter — Global Blogger”...
Besides Nicole not joining Tom on the dark side with his divisive Scientology, there’s a second reason why they divorced. Nicole is five-foot-eleven-inches and Tom is five-foot-three-inches tall (with heels). Paparazzi would burst out laughing anytime they stepped out onto the red carpet. It can take any kind to make a marriage.
Scientology leadership was furious that prospective, dues-paying recruits would see Cruise’s wife with much more stature than Tom did. Having Tom wear stilts was ineffective as he feared heights (Scientology Svengali, L. Ron Hubbard, didn’t figure out how to defuse this particular fear).
A few years of the height taunting, the humiliation, and the bad press, proved to be more than the Kidmans could handle, so they had to call it quits, and file for a divorce...
Most are well aware of perhaps the most bitter rivalry in all of Hollywood, including the one between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. This is, of course, the endless tit-for-tat between Nicole Kidman and Naomi Watts. Both have longstanding restraining orders against one another. If you even say the word, “Naomi,” to Nikky she will practically hit the ceiling in fright, the hatred is this intense.
Ages ago, the two Aussies were the best of friends. In fact, they went to the same theatrically-oriented, North Sydney Girls High School, where a gentle rivalry turned into the most heated of feuds. It got so bad once, that Nicole and Naomi were pulled out of their classes for a day’s worth of detention, because of unnecessary hair-pulling, spitting, and teacher-unapproved cat fighting (things are a bit different in the land down-under).
There has been nothing but bad vibes between them since, going as far back as Mulholland Drive, when Nikky auditioned for innocent, Hollywood newcomer, Betty, but Naomi walked off with the role.
There was a scene that Naomi performed for director, David Lynch, a scene that Nikky felt was just too sexual. Nicole is a firm believer in chastity just like her savior, Baby Jesus, demands of her. Nikky told Lynch that instead of the self-pleasuring scene, the Betty character should play tennis against a cement wall, that this achieved the same effect, and hid all uncomfortable, shameful, eroticism.
Lynch could not be convinced, and the role went to Naomi. Once this casting die was cast, they never spoke a word to each other again...
The Nikky faithful are mounting a campaign to have her mane return to ginger, instead of blonde. The problem is that the characters are written as blondes, or dirty blondes, so Nicole must dye her hair yellow over and over.
Many of us believe this is just plain wrong, so we are asking Ms. Kidman and her agent to negotiate a ginger contract rider to allow her to grow in her natural, flaming, red-hot, hair color.
Why play yet another, air head blond, when she can play a fiery, agile and dynamic, think-for-herself, redhead? Many more will be missing her next blockbuster in protest, and some will be carrying picket signs to the tune of: “Bring Back our Ginger Babe!...” Please join us, and make a difference!
“Dreamy” Jennifer Connelly
(Still of Jennifer Connelly in Mulholland Falls
© 1996 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc.
All Rights Reserved.)
I’m hardly one to trash the husband of any of these gorgeous, Hollywood women, but Jenny C. married down. Just saying, no offense. These husbands all understand, because they’re jealous of me, and my primacy as a blogger.
They all know that I can beat them inside on the paint, then dish outside for the tray, or block shots from downtown. I’m just too much competition for them, so they’ve learned to respect me for this.
Ashley Judd knows this is the god’s honest truth, I’ve played pickup games with her in Nashville, games where she doesn’t even show up, in more ways than one...
For her supporting role as Alicia Nash in Ron Howard’s A Beautiful Mind, Jennifer Connelly received an Academy Award, a Golden Globe Award and a BAFTA Award. Besides her Oscar-winning performance, she’s known for He’s just not that into You, she was the best part of Rocketeer — lighting up the screen, and stealing every scene, she was that good in this — and in 2014, she co-starred with Russell Crowe again in the Biblical saga Noah.
The problem with Rocketeer though, was that it had all this stuff about rockets, when it should have just been about Jenny C smiling, and making conversation with everyone. They hardly know how to create fine, engrossing cinema anymore.
Ms. Connelly — along with her trademark, playful, coy, knowing, or devilish half-smile, as well as her brunette hair and green eyes, her buxom figure, and her deep, sultry voice — has appeared in 41 films. In 2005, Amnesty International named Ms. Connelly an Ambassador for Human Rights Education. She has been a Revlon cosmetics cover model, and in addition, was a child model. Periodicals such as Time, Vanity Fair, Esquire, as well as the Los Angeles Times have all included her on their lists of the world’s most beautiful women.
In Career Opportunities, Jennifer portrays an unusually intuitive, young woman, who is beset with issues at home, and doesn’t quite know what to do with her life, until she is trapped overnight with a janitor at a department store. One can easily see her overwhelming sex appeal and femininity in yet another, understated, never-recognized, and grossly under-rated performance. It is just a treat to watch her in this film, and this is so early in her career.
I would have to think she did all her own roller-skating in this clip, partly because it would have to be so difficult to find that voluptuous of a body double for Jennifer, and partly because in the shots where it is obviously her doing the skating, she is doing it very well.
Ms. Connelly studied English at Yale University, transferring to Stanford, and completing her degree in Drama there. Not many know this, but growing up in the Catskills of Upstate New York, Jennifer was nick-named “The Mountain Cat.”
Heather “The Pinup” Graham
If you looked at the pinups of earlier generations such as Betty Grable, and even Rita Hayworth, Ms. Graham still stays on top. Heather is one, unusually good-looking woman. Plus she’s whip-smart, if you know what I mean...
(Still from 2011’s Son of Morning. Sigh. Meaning, WOW! Move over, Marilyn!)
Heather was in an excellent movie that I would bet not many people have ever seen. It is called, Miss Conception, and it’s about a woman whose biological clock is running out of time.
Both Ms. Graham and her supporting cast all gave excellent performances. Who knew Heather could give a Gwynnie Paltrow-caliber British accent, not to mention her GP-worthy performance?
The movie is not hard-core drama, meaning there’s no squirm-in-your-seat Tarantino carnage, but this doesn’t mean it isn’t both poignant and enjoyable.
The Hoopla website, which is available with most library cards, has the movie for free. (Unfortunately, the Opera browser won’t work with it, you’ll need Firefox, or equivalent.)
As an actress nearing fifty-years-of-age, Heather Graham knows her days being gainfully employed are numbered. So she brainstormed with Macy’s, and will now be putting out a line of winter clothing to be called Heather’s Wisconsin Winter Ware. The line will include pyschedelic, pink and tangerine, scarves, and paisley gloves, in honor of her tenure as Austin Power’s Felicity Shagwell.
(Heather’s Wisconsin Winter Ware is named after Heather’s native Wisconsin, where she won Milwaukee Igloo Queen, three-years running. She would have won a fourth year, but she found work in Tinsel Town. Also stopping a four-peat was controversy over Igloo Queen term limits, which would have likely led to her disqualification for a fourth year.)
Ms. Graham is also involved in a charity getting the Cambodian children to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. The genius solution: Have Heather’s Cambodian kids make Heather’s Wisconsin Winter Ware. There initially were concerns about their psychosocial development after working eighty-hour weeks in the Heather Graham Sweatshops.
Yet Heather and her management team agreed that the work experience gained far outweighed any downside from unlit, fire-hazard, sweatshops. Expect a February launch to Heather’s Wisconsin Winter Ware.
Here’s a quote from a recent two-part, 60 Minutes interview, with Heather Graham:
I’ve been waiting forever until my career waned to get ’em done. I needed big boobs professionally. Now that they’re smaller, I get to play character roles, and work on my gymnast routines.
Big boobs are for leading ladies, smaller ones are for quirky, nutty, character roles. The acting is more challenging for smaller boobs’ parts.
I used to make up for deficiencies in my method acting by jiggling my boobs. Now, it’s just me and the camera. I’m a much better actress after I had them reduced...
Heather went on a Facebook - Celebrity Edition date with some anonymous Hollywood type. If she does marry him, as widely expected, I will have to decide if she stays with the Pantheon or gets tossed asunder.
At 48, Heather is reaching the end of her love life longevity, and her desirability as a woman. So she’ll be clawing onto this “guy” for dear life, desperate for a wedding ring, even one with a very puny, speck of a diamond. Heather will at last fulfilled her life’s ambition as a trophy wife. Well, let’s not get rude.
She didn’t want to be a trophy wife her entire life, she did have hopes and dreams before her 45th birthday, but no more. She was seen leaving the restaurant, a midtown McDonalds, trying to piggyback on the “guy’s” back, in an obvious sexual overture.
If I do drop her from the Pantheon, I will most likely get Certified™ Registered™ letters from both her and her publicist, begging for re-inclusion, and including a sizeable bribe. The letters get put in the circular file for compost, although I do pocket the lettuce.
(As a one-time postal courier, Heather is one of the very few people on earth who know what a Certified™ and/or Registered™ letter actually is. Heather gave up the great outdoors and friendly people on her route, for domestication, endless primping, and serving her “man,” but, oh, her designer gown budget is the stuff of legend...)
How many times has a Heather Graham, movie character been named “Candy”? If you guessed “23,” you’re going to Disneyland!!!
Is there any woman more feared in Hollywood, than Heather Graham? I mean, just look at her. Talk about intimidating great looks. Harvey Weinstein was scared of her, and not a girl has ever stood in that pig’s way before. She must have to reject more men in a single day, than most women do in their entire lives. Her modus operandi becomes: take no prisoners.
When Heather is forced to unleash Heather-apolcalypse, there is nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. She is an esteemed actress and a businesswoman, and if you cannot produce credentials that you are worthy of her time, move it along. Ms. Graham is most likely a real sweetheart, but she never returns my calls, so I can’t get a good fix on the real Heather...
Heather and me were heading out for another road trip, because I wanted to get to know the Cheeseheads for which her region is so well known. See, Heather is from Wisconsin, the Dairy State, and they eat more cheese than anyone else in America (only the Swiss eat more cheese on earth). To stock up on supplies, we stopped at Kwik Trip.
What most surprised me about this convenience store, is that Kwik Trip sells milk by the bag, honest, they do. Not only that, the Kwik Trip chain has their own dairy, they have their own dairy cows. On Long Island, I couldn’t verify at press time, but I’m almost certain that our convenience stores, 7-11, and even Dairy Barn, do not have their own cows.
Kwik Trip will also cook to order off of a small menu. Now, I don’t have to check that one out. There isn’t a single convenience store in the entire Northeastern United States that will cook to order anything. You need to go home, and fire up your George Foreman Grill, or turn up your hot plate...
As many may know, Heather’s big break was from her role as Brandi aka Roller Girl in Boogie Nights. Heather has said that since then she no longer had to audition for parts, she would just be offered them, and for big movies.
According to IMDBPro, Gwynnie Paltrow was offered the role for Roller Girl, but turned it down. That would have been the all-time miscast...
Heather Graham is well-known in keeping her private life private, and away from prying eyes. But get this, she will be releasing a tell-all autobiography this Fall. The finished manuscript is one page long, and includes the time she skinned her knee in gym class. At least her treatment was somewhat forthcoming about her past. A ghostwriter hopes to flesh it out into four-hundred-pages.
I, for one, am glad she’s coming clean on dishing about private details about her life. I have paid her way with movie tickets — we all have — and it’s time for pay back. I am not an unreasonable man, so I know she needs to make more of an effort being explicit about her past, including all those physical relationships with girls.
Heather, if you’re out there, don’t tell me this is private, because you traded your privacy for fame. Check the fine print on that Faustian bargain you signed thirty years ago. You surrendered all rights to your sexy past for others enjoyment...
If you follow Heather Graham’s Instagram, and Ashley Judd or Gwyneth Paltrow’s ones as well, you’ll notice that on Ashley and Gwynnie’s pages the trolls are there, out in full force, and out for blood. Yet Heather’s social media feed is fairly civilized.
The reason is that Heather doesn’t stir up much controversy. She mostly talks about rice cakes and sunscreen, whereas Ashley has extolled her love of tax-cheat Bono, and Gwynnie pontificates over pelvic eggs as a panacea for the blues, and whose discussion even embarasses her mom, Blythe.
It is always clear where Ashley and Gwynnie are on the New Age or political spectrum, which makes them the targets of trolls. Yet we only know of Heather’s discretion, and her love of those slimming rice cakes.
To make them all feel free to express their opinions without retaliation, the real solution is to promote their own web sites which they have already built. Ashley already has AshleyJudd.com, and Gwyneth has GwynethPaltrow.com. They devote far more time to the social media platforms than their eponymous web sites, even though the former is where they get all the abuse.
Or they could be as tough as nails, and capable of withstanding any abuse thrown their way. Yet, if you have home field advantage on your own web site, with a much more devoted readership, and without casual or hurtful readers, the discourse will remain that much more civil. Surprisingly, however, Ashley and Gwynnie currently do not have their own forums.
What’s more, a private web site would have a much tighter rein on membership with a significantly more elaborate, and reviewable, member profiles, which can readily cull away trolls. In Facebook, you’ll only learn that whomever is trolling you belongs to the National Socialist Party, their favorite public figure is Adolf Hitler, and their true passion is assault rifles. There isn’t any reason why they are visiting you other than they are desperate to cause you as much trouble as they can...
Winter is approaching fast in the northern Midwest. Heather has begun chopping wood, and tuning her Skidoo to make sure it’s ready for the weekly blizzards. She is making sure her lake fishing cabin is structurally sound, adding caulk where necessary.
Heather is also checking her fishing tackle to make sure the knots are secure, because this may be the year she catches the record crappie, which in Northern Wisconsin is over ninety pounds (a record she owned just eight years ago)...
Heather just brought her fishing hutch off of Lake Oshbegosh. Yeah, if it’s not ashore by late May, it goes to the bottom of the lake. Into Spring, car traffic is not allowed on the lake any longer. Heather is saddened when winter ends, longing for the return of Arctic temps, so she can drag her beloved fishing igloo out onto the lake again, and catch yet more crappies.
Heather has her Peterbilt pick-up truck to facilitate moving the hutch back and forth for her “hobby.” It’s 8-cylinders on a 10-liter, overhead cam power plant. She has drag raced at Milwaukee Nationals. When the ice-fishing isn’t any good up North, she trailers it down to Daytona for more fun, her Peterbilt is that fast and competitive.
If you ever get the chance, catch Heather on the NASCAR Channel leaving rubber in fourth gear, in her 250 MPH-plus souped-up pick-up, funny-car. Everyone knew she was fast, and wastes no time, but 250 MPH-plus fast?
Heather has often said that racing “is all in the wrist, I concentrate on my wrists out on the track.” When a newbie asked about her: “accelerating engine fatigue when racing.” She only offered this: “I was grinding gears before the day you were born, punk. Eat my fireproof suit...”
Heather Graham varies a great deal in the quality of her screen work. Some of it is really top-notch, and some of it is a paycheck. I blame the writing. If an actress is given lines to read that aren’t credible, or compelling, Meryl Streep couldn’t pull off making that part convincing.
Then, because of prior weak scripts, an actress is relegated to more, very weak scripts. If she is in this “quicksand” I don’t see how she can dig herself out of it, and develop professionally...
It is winter. This means just one thing to Wisconsin born and bred, Heather Graham, and that’s returning home for ice fishing. This is the time of year that Heather forgets the inanities and ultra-seriousness of Hollywood, puts on her hip waders, and heads out on her Ski-doo for a day in her ice fishing hut on Lake Oshbegosh.
(Heather has a 2007 Grand Touring Ski-doo. Everyone she’s ever known has owned a ski-mobile. She does all the work on hers — she has a lift in her garage — much to the amazement of her friends on the lake. Heather has even taken it across frozen Lake Superior to Northern Ontario for lodging and dancing with First Settlers.)
The temperatures are typically 30° below zero, but Heather just loves the peace and quiet communing with nature out on the Lake. All her girlfriends are into the sport, and they help net the tuna-size crappies that she often catches.
After they bring in their haul — Heather’s are always biggest — they take turns where they hold a big fish dinner. Heather’s sisterhood of the ice fisher women date back to when she was just seven years old.
Heather holds the record for crappies, not only on Lake Oshbegosh, but for the entire State of Wisconsin. Crappies are typically panfish, and eight inches long, but somehow the biggest ones from up and down the entire Mississippi River all end up on the end of Heather’s fishing line. She must have the magic touch.
So next you see her playing her typical vixen or cheerleading coach, just imagine her grinning and holding up a trophy-winning, eighty pound crappie for the cameras. Smile, Heather!...
Uma “Mia Wallace” Thurman
(Still from Pulp Fiction © Miramax)
Ms. Thurman was in a horrific auto crash over a dozen years ago, mostly because she was prodded into it by her director, Quentin Tarantino. While still dealing today with the joint injuries from that crash, she puts the blame squarely on Harvey Weinstein for covering it all up. Weinstein is by no means a sympathetic figure to anyone anywhere, but he cannot be blamed for everything wrong in cross-gender relationships.
The reason why Uma will not blame Tarantino for this is simple — or to me, it’s simple — she needs the work, and she likes or loves him. Her entire career is associated with Tarantino, if she is looking for continued franchise opportunities, in say, Kill Bill Volume 8, she cannot be badmouthing Tarantino, because he is her meal ticket. I am not one hundred percent certain I am right about this, but it all adds up in my estimation...
Ms. Thurman will be appearing on Broadway in The Parisian Woman. This is not a dinky, pitiful off-Broadway production, mind you, or even dinkier, and more pitiful, off-off-Broadway. This is the Great White Way.
Bear with me, I’m Drama Desk for the New York Times, I only speak the well-honed truth, even about which I know surprisingly little. My colleague at the Times just did an article on her, which congratulated her staying power having been in Hollywood for more than five years (but I’d say she’s been gracing our screens for closer to thirty).
Anyhow, after the dust settled, and all the readers vent their unfounded hostilities they harbored towards Uma in the Comments Section of the piece, it is on to me, yours truly, with the only opinion that truly matters, my own.
My concern with Uma is tempered by her being such a towering presence on the silver screen, where her profoundly sensitive portrayals are bigger and more majestic than life itself. Instead, I wonder if I have ever seen her happy, near-tearful grin — not even once. (I’ve seen Ashley Judd tearfully grinning, and Gwynnie, too — both of these joyous divorcées look like they’re having a better time of stuff.)
Uma sure seems to me to be one introspective chick, when she smiles, is that often a wistful smile, or am I just being hypercritical? True, Uma has spent much of her career working with Quentin Tarantino, and we all know what light-hearted romps he makes about forgiveness, with each production having its own incredible arsenal of blood-seeking, revenge weaponry.
If I cast her in any of my nascent productions, I will be sure that she grins, and not just once, a few times, several times even. Until I see any evidence of grinning, she will never appear in any of my screenwriting masterworks. Her photos on the Internet, at least, are not of a beaming woman enjoying life to its fullest...
Uma Thurman’s Pulp Fiction portrayal of a moll won her an Oscar nomination. At the same time, the film established her as the muse of Quentin Tarantino, the film’s famous director now best known for relying on incredible visceral sequences. Uma went on to receive Golden Globe nominations for that cinema classic, then for Kill Bill Volume I and Kill Bill Volume II, and took home the Globe for Hysterical Blindness.
The latter is the story of how a few women in 1980’s New Jersey go looking for love in the bar scene, and ultimately find that their friendship is what truly matters most. In the Kill Bill series, Uma plays Beatrix Kiddo, a woman introduced as a bride covered in blood, who is later out for revenge against the killer of her ex-lover. Ms. Thurman spent three months learning martial arts for the part.
In a 2003 Time magazine piece, Tarantino professed his admiration for his favorite actress, putting her right “up there with Garbo and Dietrich in goddess territory.” To date, U, as she is often called, has 51 acting film credits to her name.
Partly because of Uma’s obvious great looks, and partly because of her commanding stage presence — being a five-foot-eleven glamazon cannot hurt — Lancôme and Louis Vuitton retained this part-Swede’s services as a spokeswoman. The Government of France has also knighted her for her achievements in the Arts and Literature.
Uma grew up in Boston, although she did spend a good deal of time in India. Her father, Robert Thurman, is an Ivy League, Buddhist academic who brought the family to the Himalayas on occasion. The Dalai Lama was a very good friend of her Dad, and Mr. Thurman once brought the religious leader home. Nena von Schlebrügge, Uma’s Mom, was briefly married to Timothy Leary, the one-time, Sixties psychedelics pioneer. ‘Uma’ is an alternate name of a Hindu goddess, and it means ‘light.’
Amy “Oscar Nom” Adams
(Still from American Hustle
Francois Duhamel | © 2013 Annapurna Productions LLC)
This is the scene where she is the visiting,
adjunct professor of astrophysics at MIT, and she tells her class
to withhold judgment at what she claims is the new dress code.
Has anyone ever seen Amy Adams when she wasn’t smiling? As far as anyone knows, Amy is the happiest actress in Hollywood...
Amy Adams is firmly in the Charlize Theron camp of extreme beauty. Amy has such joy, but she’s married as the day is long, so we avoid her discussion...
It has often been said that a man who criticizes a woman’s weight has a death wish. Yet I am concerned — frankly, I am much more than concerned — about a Pantheon actress. Amy looks significantly heavier than she has in the past. Maybe she is only hormonal, but if you see a recent photo, you would doubt this. Did her marriage tank, did her kid have to take remedial French (who hasn’t been there?)
Please, if you live in Amy’s neighborhood, and can assist her: walk her dog, get her car washed, re-shingle her roof, read lines opposite her for her latest, referee fights with her significant others, or make her a nutritious breakfast, please do so. I have done my part in alerting the Universe (and so am now a target for all of Hollywood).
Now it is up to you, Amy’s friends, family, and neighbors, to pick up the slack, and get Amy back in fine fettle. For key roles, Hollywood actresses have been known to lose sixty pounds in two weeks, but still, starvation diets leave stretch marks, and Amy, we don’t need you looking like a prune...
Amy is not a natural redhead, she is actually a blonde. The same goes for Emma Stone. Tragically, and with no sense of remorse, both have been pulling the wool over our eyes for years, make that decades. They whisper Hollywood has no soul, that it’s all fake, well, now we know the rumors are all true. Virginia, there is no Santa Claus, okay?
Nicole Kidman is an actual redhead. For those keeping score at home: Charlize Theron is a blonde, Gwyneth Paltrow is, too. Unless we get anymore shocking news, like we did with Amy and Emma, Lindsay Lohan is also a redhead. Kim Kardashia was originally a blond (see Taylor Swift section for explanation).
Amy said that once her ’do went ginger, she started getting all the feisty, quirky, fun roles. When she was a blonde, she got roles playing stuck-up bimbos. By the way, if you read about a hair color fraud of which most are unaware, or better, notice one yourself; please drop us a line at the Other Letter Tip Line...
Charlize “The Face” Theron
Isn’t she that Afrikaans, Dutch girl? Is she ever good-looking.
Of the entire lot on this Pantheon page, the one I have the most respect for is Charlize Theron. (Or Charli — pronounced Shar-lee — to those closest to her. Her best buds also know her as “Dimples.”) She isn’t entangled in Baby Jesus, or alien, matrimonial scenes. She’s got it all together, and from every outward appearance she is an unusually pleasant woman.
This promotional still is from 2017’s sci-fi, Star Trek takeoff, The Orville. The only better-looking women are not found in our galaxy.
Charli was seen at the SAG awards trying to chat up Quentin Tarantino. You’re thinking: Doesn’t she have more class than to join a maker of violent exploitation flicks? His pulp fiction is not a parody of pulp fiction, they are pulp fiction in and of themselves.
Here’s the low-down. Charli is 43 years old, and past 40 in Hollywood means that she is suddenly invisible. These days, she is hustling work from anyone with a 35 millimeter camera.
Charli could have been Manson’s sidekick in Once upon a Time... In Blood-red Hollywood. She could have been Eva Braun, Hitler’s wife, in Glorious Bad Guys, if it meant she could stand before the camera when Tarantino shouted, “Action!”
In the final analysis, if Charli cannot find work any longer, then all she has left to do every day for the rest of her life is dust the furniture in her house (her food is all part of a daily, rotating, take-out plan).
Charli, now that you’ve been pushed out of Hollywood because Bombshell bombed, I have an excellent employment idea. Apply to be a Burger King day manager.
Don’t do the night shift even though you’ll earn a pay differential. Night shift is extra cash, but are you ready to say goodbye to your children forever? Because you’ll never see them again.
Whoppers are discounted as an employee perk. Charli is now very interested. I kid you not, you get a third off on your whopper meal. I know, unbelievable. Welcome to America, Charli. There’ll be a new spring to your step. Mm, whoppers, mm. You can even become a BK greeter...
Charli couldn’t resist this good thing, and was an immediate BK hire starting in the vaunted greeter position. We caught up with Charli donning the maroon and gold uniform, including cap:
“Hello, welcome to Burger King, I’ll be your hostess. I’m Charli. Why don’t you place your order to my left? That’s right, go ahead.
“I’ve had the fries today and the King is making quite the scrum-delicious batches back there. The deep fryer has been piping hot since 11AM. I should mention that from two to four PM, fries will be 99¢ not $1.09. That’s twenty percent off, and I’m talking all week, but please, only from two to four PM.
“Enjoy them, folks. In times like these, everyone could use BK fries, and why not double down with the whopper. Please, be my guest, sir. All menu items are value-meal priced.
“Yes, ma’am, you can have it your way. This is Burger King, not satanic McDonald’s. Yes, we do accept twenty dollar bills, but we request the order be more than ten dollars. Sir? Why not complete your order with a milkshake? Hmm?
“Yes, ma’am, the napkins are complementary. Take three because the whopper is that juicy. Enjoy your burgers, okay? Have you tried the catsup? It makes for quite the condiment. And please cap off today’s meal with a twisty freeze, now in four flavors, including lime, peanut butter, and red...”
Charli is crestfallen. Her latest epic, Bombshell, didn’t do as well as expected at the box office. Because of Hollywood’s infamous one strike and you’re out policy, she’s in early talks to teach Intro to Cinema Studies at UCLA. This would be the San Bernardino Campus, two hours North of Los Angeles, and two blocks East of the porn studios.
Her first lesson plan includes which foods to eat to gain thirty pounds like she did for Monster. I understand eating Milky Ways in bulk figure large in a super-large, camera-ready butt. I’m ready for my close-up, Missus Jenkins...
After Charli brushed me off (see below), I did run into her on a JFK to Tokyo non-stop, without layover. I was doing the usual, perfecting the human genome on my laptop, and Charli was rehearsing her spiel to promote her latest, Centurion, Halt!
Anyhow, to make a long story short, I explained to her my reverse-Stockholm axiom. The Stockholm Syndrome occurs when you take on the traits of your kidnappers. Reverse-Stockholm Syndrome is when you do the exact opposite of your tormenters. Your daughter, Jackson, may have this.
Charli looked at me like I just landed on Earth from Mars, but then she said, “You’ve got opening remarks in Berlin at the Global Symposium of Acceptable and Exploitable Gender Roles. I still don’t believe anything you’ve ever said, but my family’s medical team as well as the entire Harvard Medical School, who will all be in attendance, may find this just as amusing as I find you.
“Here, I have a front-row ticket. Scalpers sell these for thousands all along the Ebertplatz. You’ll be sitting next to Sigmund Freud’s granddaughter, Helga Freud. I would come prepared, Other, careers delving in the mental sciences, are won and lost here.”
With that, Charli slept the rest of the flight. After the plane taxied, she hightailed it out of the 767’s cabin, and I haven’t seen or heard her since. I RSVP’d at the Symposium, but they said I was never formally invited. Oh, well...
I’ve been needling Charlize so she’ll promote a male orientation for her daughter, Jackson. Because I am the authority in the field of developmental psychology, my viewpoint is the only one worth hearing. Well, Charli actually wrote me back attempting to trump me with the views of the “friendly” Harvard Gender Reassignment Panel. Here are her remarks:
“Thanks for your scribbles, Other, but the Gender Reassignment Panel came back from Harvard with its findings, and Jackson’s 2.78, with a perfectly acceptable margin of error, so everything’s cool.
“Listen, I’m flying into Zurich, then it’s onto Sydney. Gotta win those awards, and plug those pictures. The moppets are with certified nannies. Let me know if I’m starring in your movie. Toddles.
“Wait, before I leave in my private jet, the Harvard Panel decided that I needed to keep Jackson as far away from males as possible so as to avoid gender contamination. If I ever invite you to my manse, you’ll be required to wear a mask of a non-threatening female. I’ve already chosen Doris Day for you from my mask collection. This would be from her Pillow Talk period, when else?
“Oh, and all athletic sporting events must be female ones. Girls’ field hockey, and cheerleading squads wearing skirts are acceptable — and this is top-level Harvard making the decisions, so we know it’s all good. Other, I’d like to say it’s been real, but it did lack gender nuance...”
I’ll be staying a few weeks in Charlize’s South Africa, so I needed to know what’s good eats. I have to be frank here, the selections were not as varied as they are Stateside, but I’m not saying that they’re any worse.
South Africa does have a prestige collection of dried fruit and nuts, apparently they are produced in great abundance there. The Food Lovers Market looked very good, and I’ll be sure to stop in to the Market for the Asian-spiced pork neck roast.
American tries to be everything to everyone, and satisfy everyone that marketing metrics say needs to be satisfied, with scientifically-measured enticements. The South African approach is much more: “This is what we know that you’ll love...”
Charli won a lifetime achievement award from a major organization. You want me to tell you which one, don’t you? Okay, I’ll look it up, one second, and I shall let you know... She won the Career Achievement Award — at the tender age of forty-four — from the Hollywood Film Awards.
In her usual gracious manner, she gave all thanks to me, whom she studied under at the Institute for Advanced Film Studies. I even get the credit for her riveting performance in Monster.
Remember when she waved the gun in the air, and told everyone that this would get her on the cover of the Rolling Stone? All that “improv” was from yours truly, yet I don’t have the Oscar, Charli does. There isn’t any justice in Hollywood. I won’t begrudge — good work, Charli...
Everyone knows that Charli curses like a sailor. Well, now, it’s effecting the bottom line of her movies. Something needed to be done, so now she has a cussin’ jar in her kitchen with proceeds given to charity.
Any profanity she utters means a Benjamin, a hundred dollar bill, goes from her purse into the tip jar. Because of her donations, her cussin’ jar has financed a sewer district in her native Ruwumba. Way to be, Charli...
Okay, I must say this, and jeopardize the super-fine relationship I have with Charlize Theron. Charlize, sit down — no, not there, here.
Better, okay, I seriously doubt that your son who’s now defined as a daughter is so set on being a girl. Does Jackson want a boyfriend? Is he, err she, effeminate in many ways? Long hair doesn’t count. Kids want to look all rock star.
I remember reading that you had a break-up scene with Sean Penn, and Jackson witnessed this. He was absolutely grieving of the whole situation. I understand that his home environment before you adopted him was also traumatic, and left at least a few scars. Well, will Jackson think so highly of men after this? Yet how many men are present in his life today? Are there any at all?
My point is: Before you buy him the Betty Crocker Little Girl Baking Kit, and indulge him with all kinds of crazy girl stuff (and do you ever have the money to indulge him), watch sports with him. See if he would rather be out on the field, or be a cheerleader on the sidelines. I may be way out of line, and grossly oversimplifying the entire situation, but I think I raise important points.
One more point: Why didn’t you adopt the kid who was Harvard, grade school, early admit? Or take on the kid who can bench three of his classmates? Just put him in your home gym, and let him loose.
You wanted to adopt a kid who needed your love the most? Still, the Mensa moppet, or the NFL prospect, would have been far more cost-effective. When everything is reduced to a financial equation, we’re all happier...
Charlize Theron, Oscar-winner, has made a name for herself as an action hero — of all things. In some quarters, this is great. Charlize is super-hot looking, and we get to see her as a bad-ass.
But as far as I’m concerned, this is a waste of her exceptional talents on blood-and-guts combat. True, she’s past forty, and in Hollywood this means that roles for actresses are far and few between.
They must take whatever is thrown their way, even if it involves butchering a sworn enemy in vengence. There is a scene in one of Tarantino’s movies, I cannot recall which one, where Uma Thurman is a cannibal eating her enemy’s carcass by a bonfire.
Anyhow, this is what I fear of Charli, that she’s in some God-forsaken Tarantino movie chomping on the remains of someone’s forearm. If this can happen to Uma, can’t it happen to Charli? Of course it can, and will, if Charli doesn’t leave the dark side of Hollywood...
Finding Your Roots is a long-running show on PBS (Public Broadcasting System), hosted by Henry Louis Gates Jr. In it, celebrity guests learn everything about their genealogy, even learning some things they probably didn’t want to know.
Charlize Theron was on the show recently where her true racial identity was revealed. Born in South Africa, she’s an African American who’s actually White, or is she?
Mr. Gates ran her DNA against the Mumbabwe tribal databank in Dahomey Kingdom. Mumbabwe 16th Century, papyrus birth certificates were kept in a central depository inside a quonset hut, in the middle of every village. Once the show’s investigators found the depository (beneath hundreds of bibles left behind by frustrated missionaries), it was not a problem at all verifying Charli’s genetic results.
As it turns out, Charlize is both an Oscar-winner, and a Black, albino African. During the ruthless, colonial slave trade, the Chieftain had all the albino men and women of their Black tribe intermingle and mate. This way, Charlize’s direct ancestors would be overlooked as slave prospects because they appeared White.
“That’s right, Charlize, your great, great, great, great grandmother was Lamoyne, but your great, great, great grandmother was Mary Elizabeth. How does it feel to be one hundred percent Black African? — if simply albino Black.”
“I am stunned, I’m a Black person in a White shell?”
“That’s right, you were protected from becoming a slave by having your bloodline made ivory, with albino Blacks.”
“I have to tell my kids this. I adopted two Blacks kids and they always looked at me askance for being White bread. Well, now they won’t have to, I’m one of them, right down to the genetic level...”
Charlize Theron is releasing her new stoner classic: Why Everybody must get Stoned. In it, she plays a wake and bake clerk at a super store of an inconsequential town named Dullesville, one where no one has ever gotten high. Charlize takes every customer into the storage closet and proceeds to blow their minds with the strongest sinsemilla.
Eventually the entire town is toking, including Mayor Numbnuts, Pastor Buford, and Sheriff White-bread, all former owners of Dullesville’s once-thriving whiskey distillery, yet now dreadlock-donning stoners...
By the curtain close, Charli is getting high fives all around for her primo bud and cannabis marketing acumen. Why Everybody must... is headed for a Christmas release under Charlize’s own production company, Daphne and Dubuque, and Hallmark Heart Warmers...
Who caught the Golden Globes? And did you see who the looker among the lookers was? That’s right, our Charli Theron. There is a huge professional problem with her beauty, because any one she plays automatically lacks realism. No one but Charli looks this good. Ms. Theron has been relegated to become an Oscar-winning action hero. She is passed over for any serious dramatic scripts.
Well, I have the solution, Charli. You need to look your age, you need to honor your maturity, you need crows feet, you need lines on your face. Then you will have realism, and roles that adults would appreciate. This is how you get that aging: Live for a month in a bus terminal, or in the woods. Follow this with a three-month cocaine bender. This is what is known as method acting.
That is how you succeed in Hollywood, looks do not matter there, we all know this. To get out of the action hero trap, you must look your age, Charli. Now, get ready for your agents constant calls, ones begging you to play wizened women deciding whether to kill for a Happy Meal, or to kill for a cigarette. Oh, wait, did you already play that in Monster?...
Charli finally followed my advice and tried to arrange a return of her adoptive moppets. Things did not quite go as planned, however. Charli presented them to the orphanage, and the orphanage director told her their policy: “Orphans sold here will not be accepted for return.”
Per my earlier coaching of Charli, she started throwing everything in sight: computer monitors, pencil sharpeners (it was an old facility), chairs, desks, on and on. Orphanage workers started filming this on their cell phones, and that’s when things really got nasty.
Ms. Theron started screaming: “I DO NOT WANT THESE MOPPETS!!! DO YOU UNDERSAND ME?!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WORK IT TAKES TO RAISE THEM!!! TAKE THEM BACK, NOW!!!” And then she ran outside with every employees cell phone and threw them into oncoming traffic on the one-oh-one, where the phones were all run over and smashed into bits.
After Charli told me this, I knew we needed to come up with a better plan, but unfortunately for her, I didn’t have one... Yet, they were orphans from Africa — that’s it! We would Fedex them back to Africa, where they came from! High fives, all around... To be continued...
Gwyneth “Vino Viola” Paltrow
There are as many opinions about Gwyneth Paltrow as there are stars in the Milky Way Galaxy. Although they generally fall into two camps: lovers and haters. Haters are quick to point out her: Hollywood royalty, family connections; and charmed life. Gwynnie lovers note that her Dad passed away when she was thirty-one, that she survived a very trying marriage, and that her talents on the sound stage are among the best in the world...
In the Christmas Goop video with Kate Hudson, Gwyneth said she drinks every day. If you are in anyway familiar with Alcoholics Anonymous, you know this is a sure sign of being afflicted with the disease of alcoholism. I’m keeping this on the Q-T (the quiet), so any value here as an intervention cannot happen. She may have taken steps to remedy any dependence, but this note is staying put as incentive for her.
(Snapshot from a c. 2020, Goop video. Used without permission. She doesn’t go around hassling people though. She’s cool.)
Who could anyone ever get mad at someone with that sweet of a face? Isn’t she beautiful? You can almost see the girl from whence arrived the woman...
These are many of Gwynnie’s celebrity friends. They are mine as well, but I’m far less public and showy about it.
Because Gwyneth was born Hollywood royalty, she went to two private schools: New York’s Spence School and Santa Monica’s Crossroads School. The motto of austere Spence is: “Wealthy youth congregate here.” More liberal SoCal, Crossroads is known as: “A great place for learning, and smoking grass.”
Gwyneth has two teenagers named Apple and Moses (mommy is a Californian, remember) who live in yet more rarefied air. While Gwynnie was expected to do coursework, her moppets are expected to interpret their environment, given various tableaus of experience. It is the latest in New Age youth training.
Apple arrives at the room of her choice for that day, and takes notes on her surroundings. At the end of week, she is graded on her ability to interpret her senses.
Moses is required to do similar exercises, although because he is an avid skateboarder, he presents an optional short speech to licensed New Age faculty on this week’s downhill odyssey.
Apple is showing great progress. Whereas she originally only chose one homeroom, now she selects sensory input from one of five homerooms! Moses skateboarding skills are now exemplary, so he will be skating at the school’s Salute to Tony Hawk!
Metabolizing and digesting our feelings are nice insightful turns of phrase that I heard at Goop. Although listening to Gwynnie’s hour long video with her intimacy coach becomes; “How can we better feel what we're already feeling?”
Gwynnie’s husband, Bradley Wonder-Bred, was there for all the fun and exciting action, and looked like he was ready to bolt at the fortieth minute. Gwynnie was sitting on the floor, and she put her arm over his thigh, as if to say: “If you leave early, before the full hour, then I will vivisect you, and cannibalize you, in front of your children...”
Girls, Ryan told a joke, so it’s time to laugh: Ha, ha, he, he... Again, ha, ha, he, he... Once more, ha, ha, he, he... That’s what I like to hear, my mentorship, and girl solidarity, on the Red Carpet...
I was absolutely flabbergasted when Gwynnie tied the knot with Bradley Wonder-Bred. The Gwynster and me go way back. I had sent her at least a dozen Tweets. I was in her inner circle. I saved top-shelf remarks for her like: “You’re such an attractive woman, Gwyneth.” She was so profoundly effected by this comment that she liked it.
How could I not think that 3-Star Michelin dinners in Paris were next? We’d soon be globetrotting, right? You don’t think we’d be walking down the aisle very soon? What drugs are you on? I was hearing wedding bells loud and clear. But whatever happened to our love, Gwyneth? Again, I was flabbergasted, stunned, floored, crippled really. Was there anything Bradley Wonder-Bred could offer her that I wouldn’t be soon?
Wonder-Bred was a TV-gag writer of a limited-appeal, teen, homosexual soap opera. What made Gwynnie so fascinated with him? Okay, honest appraisal: He spends most days in the gym, but he wears a toupee (honest).
Anyhow, I see Ms. Paltrow parading around town with Wonder-Bred in tow, heading for the latest premiere, or just to pick up bean-juice, kale, and cauliflower for some hideous, wretch-worthy, dinner to share with her depressed, blended family.
Then I wonder where Gwynnie and me ever went wrong. I said all the right things, my career is catapulting to super-stardom. Honestly, Gwyneth, what gives? Why did you drop the ball on romantic perfection?
Gwyneth belongs in long-term psychoanalysis, perhaps alongside heavy sedation, although likely not hospitalization or prison. Gwynnie’s kids need to be taken from her (and I am sure her kids would agree). The list of prospective, society sanctions against her is never ending. You name a punishment, and she deserves its administration...
Let’s see how sharp my readership really is: On Instagram, Gwynnie, along with her Bradley Falchuk, plugs an organization that supplies medical teams with PPE (personal protective equipment). On the prior post, she is proudly decked out in PPE, a face mask, that could be sent instead to medical teams. Her rationalizing Emma could explain, I can’t.
PPE won’t help someone in a super market — unless they’re already sick and don’t want to pass along their germs.
The upshot is that Gwynnie expects people to give money to a cause when she is part of the problem, albeit a small one — her house is not floor-to-ceiling face masks. At least, not that we know. Yet her millions of followers could be following her example of denying medical teams PPE.
The problem that Gwynnie has always had, is that she refuses to accept scientific fact on face value, in favor of a quick hit of hopefulness. Her mantra becomes: Maybe the medical establishment has it completely wrong. Just maybe that diagnosis you received, saying you need to have a burial plot in your name, or that your chronic fatigue was untreatable, was all lies.
Gwyneth is first and foremost an entertainer, where she departs from her calling is when she plays medical doctor...
In celebration of America’s Coronavirus, at-home buying spree, Gwynnie will be offering a new selection of a $1,000-plus-apiece, dried apricots. It’ll last until cockroaches rule the world, which, given the worldwide panic, may be sooner than we know.
Gwynnie got slammed again without cause. After so much of this troll abuse, she must wonder if there is a legal remedy, or maybe there’s a magic incantation to get the haters to go f*ck themselves.
Anyhow, the insanely hyper-critical felt that introducing a high-end clothing item is inappropriate, because Coronavirus will level America in a few days. The haters cite readers of crystal balls who are saying that within 48 hours, life as we now know it will cease to exist.
The Centers for Disease Control stated that the average flu season does much more damage, but if nothing else, many Americans are irrationally very fearful, and superstitious.
The attacks on Gwyneth lack all rationality. What does her business’ usual price point have to do with the Coronavirus? You’re supposed to block any new product offerings in light of a pandemic? I thought the best way to maintain calm was to keep to business as usual. Is the CEO of Amazon, Jeff Bezos, delaying launches of products costing more than $250 in respect for the inane, or the viral dead?
Gwynnie’s Goop needs to have a caveat: “If expensive clothing items make you ill, more so than Coronavirus, visit Martha Stewart’s website. Stewart’s site will have instructions on how to make doilies, and styrofoam balls to grace your dress at your provincial, Easter pageant.”
Have you heard about this? Gwynnie is engraving Goop homeless coupons to be distributed among homeless camps. This is Gwynnie’s latest Goop philanthropy initiative. The homeless cannot redeem the coupon because they have no money to buy anything.
Yet the token gesture gives the impression that Gwynnie’s company is being generous to the unfortunate when it’s only a cheap publicity stunt. They are geniuses over at Goop, they really are. Congrats! Hats off!
(Editor’s note: Gwyneth actually contacted me about this piece and the next one. She said: “I was going to sue you for libel, but then I realized that I could use the extra publicity. So instead of litigation, I say, keep up the good work, Other Letter! Hats off!...”)
The latest issue of Goop is a real shocker. The sensationalist headline reads: “I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body!” with a picture of Gwynnie after hormone treatments.
She has a mustache and beard just like she did in Shakespeare in Love. Are the testosterone injections she received in 1997, the same ones she’s getting now? Enquiring minds need to know...
Isn’t it interesting how Gwynnie’s Goop has evolved? In 2011, she featured how-to articles on Unsubscribing From Email Lists, yet now, in 2020, her go-tos are how-tos such as, Getting Your Boyfriend To Put Out.
(The link above is from the Goop National Archive. This is a partnership with Michael Bloomberg and the Smithsonian’s Blossoming Feminism Initiative.)
My understanding of the Paltrow moppets is that they run their junior high, and high school, drug concessions with an iron fist. Yet sage Momma Gwynnie tells them: “Don’t be so aggressive, they will come to you for bud product. Soft sell, not hard sell, this is how I sell sex toys at Goop. Use the same method in selling your cannabis.”
Moses, Gwynnie’s youngest, is not yet in high school. His sister, Apple, is arranging a dealership for him, including clientele introductions, when he gets to Beverly Hills High. Their popularity, and name recognition, guarantees brisk sales for their shadowy, sponsoring “syndicate”...
Gwynnie’s commercial offerings do seem to have matured, while she looks younger than her years. I’m a long-time fan of hers. I remember 1998’s Shakespeare in Love, and anyone could tell she was (and is) both super-bright, and equally beautiful. Obviously, she’s also a wallflower.
Part of Gwynnie’s struggles with fame is that she has had an embarrassment of riches for most of her life. Yet her father passed away when she was just thirty-one years old, and she is divorced. Besides that, she has entered a scientific field of wellness, without the background people expect of her. She has taken enough lumps for false starts that she now has learned to at least partially temper her earlier, (some might say) wild enthusiasm for treatment modalities.
Her Goop Lab, on Netflix, sounds like lots of fun to watch. Although there have been caveats issued about trying what is seen on TV for yourself (caveats from Gwynnie, and a few in the medical profession). Gwynnie, herself, has always generated tons of interest, not always positive. To me, she’s a very sweet and attractive woman, she is Viola de Lessups from Shakespeare in Love...
I had heard that there are some low lives who give Apple Martin a hard time because of her mother’s product line. Gwynnie sells stuff to better enjoy a woman’s life. If you’re that much of a jealous and petty prude, then you can spend the rest of your life in church, but leave an innocent teenager alone...
Gwynnie got taken to task yet again. This time by the chief of the British National Health Service. More of the same criticism, she blurs her hopes to inform, with her interest to entertain. Gwynnie has become a bit of a whipping post, she gets dressed down regularly.
There is a balance somewhere between entertainment and science, and so far it has been rather elusive for Gwynnie. Any New Age claims without substantiation, a medical doctor could rip to bits in a one-minute sound bite. Anecdotal evidence typically cannot stand up to double-blind studies (placebo versus active drug).
My personal opinion is that she could make more mainstream fare interesting, but she’s been avoiding that route. With limited reporting resources, there is a limited menu of tantalizing subjects. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, are the safest bets, although maybe not from a medical perspective. Gwynnie has, perhaps unwittingly, become the Barnum of this age...
As part of Other Letter’s Force for Change Imperative, I sat down with Gwynnie in the kitchen of her Bel Air mansion.
“What’ll it be? Hello? What’ll you drink? My in-house bartender has off tonight, some annoying holiday. I can’t remember which one. What is that Mexican holiday — Dawn of the Dead?”
“Well, I’m driving.”
“Who cares? I have Ripple, Thunderbird, Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill? I got into the fortified stuff, so it’s really sweet.”
“Hmm, I’m kinda in the mood for OJ.”
“That’s a joke. I’m funnier than my husband, the world-famous, TV gag writer. Okay, I get it, you can’t hold your liquor. No problem. I’ll take some of the kids breakfast juice. And I shall get my favorite, Ripple. Cannot go one day without this stuff.”
We had a miserable time, and Gwynnie chased me around the kitchen with a meat cleaver at one point, but I may have made an impression on her, and her desire to drink every day.
Ray, let me tell you about how great a man that my Dickweed really is. Master Dickweed and I were on an Amtrak train to Chicago. Dickweed noticed the train was going far too fast at a critical downhill juncture (if I remember, this was just outside of Jolene, past the stacks). With preternatural abilities, he decoupled the locomotive from the passenger cars thus saving the lives of hundreds.
So before you go trashing the man I love so dearly, remember that Dickweed is a national effing treasure. I mean, come on, he wrote episodes of Glee. He proved to me that an Oscar-winner doesn’t measure up to an Emmy winner. He is a peerless man without peers. Lest we forget, Dickweed is a tireless supporter of victims rights, especially train-wreck victims.
The first Gwynnie videotape was uncovered recently, and put on Youtube. Here is the transcript verbatim:
“...Thanks for the intro, Mr. Cunningham. Yes, I’m Gwynnie, your eighth grade class president, as if you didn’t know this already. We’ll be having a bake sale next month, and I’m in charge of it. Thanks so much for putting me in charge of this vital function, Mr. Cunningham. You’re aces, you really are.
“I have already assigned roles for everyone. Cindy, you’re product development, and Rich, you’re finance. I will be making the brownies. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.
“Class, you are to report to one of us. Everyone got that? It’s for a great cause, kids without coordinated and dynamic, fashion accessories. Yes, it’s tragic, but they exist in SoCal.
“I will be throwing a social this afternoon at my estate in Malibu. You should have received invites if I felt you were worthy. This is not BYOB, don’t bring your own anything. I will be providing the refreshments. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. How cool is that? I have an indoor pool so there will be swimming, although bathing suits are optional, if you get my drift.
“My parents are away scouting locations, so I can do anything I want. Mr. Cunningham, you’re invited if you’d like. Otherwise, that’s it from the Paltrow end. You may continue with your fascinating class, sir...”
This just in from the America-Is-Far-Too-Often-A-Bunch-Of-Sleazes-Department: Larry Singer took this photograph (he says), and Gwyneth, published it on Goop, and she did not ask for his permission first. Singer claims this photo is worth $150,000.
I don’t know, folks, but I see this photo, and I do not see the work of Ansel Adams, I see amateur hour, I see someone wanting a huge payout for nothing, I see someone exploiting any possible loophole in copyright law, and I see a nuisance lawsuit.
(By the way, Ansel Adams originals go for between ten and twenty-thousand-dollars, Singer is charging ten times more for his crap.)
Singer’s profession may be as a photographer, but who knows? He looks like his real profession is getting a free ride on the Gwynnie Paltrow gravy train.
Damages are given based on how much money the plaintiff lost, and the defendant gained, because the photo was plagiarized. How much money did Singer lose because this crummy little photo was published by Goop? It sounds like he’s getting tons of publicity now though.
How much time and energy did Singer require framing and re-framing, sitting in a dark room for hours to finally get the exact color composition? Singer is a real professional, a real professional thief.
Gwynnie must be sitting pretty with all the money she got for publishing this photo. Either that, or is she looking around her house and office for cameras of that prank show, Punk’d. This is just so bizarre...
Gwynnie, and her extended family troupe are skiing at Aspen. Gwynnie’s hiding her TV gag writer husband, whom she’s nicknamed, “Baldy.”
Her apparent ex, Chris Martin, is with his new girl, Dakota Johnson, which may be his forever girl, if you get my drift. Dakota may be a bit of a masochist, or else she enjoys the frostbite from being in sub-zero temps with a big hole in the knees of her jeans.
Gwynnie’s kids are encamped in the pinball room of the Aspen Hilton desperate to escape the paparazzi. Yet where is Momma Blythe? As part of Murdoch’s Sun wiretapping network, we picked up this phone message off of Gwynnie’s answering machine (easy hack):
“Hi, dear, it’s your mother, Blythe Danner. I have to beg off of skiing at Aspen. They all know how to ski there, which is big, and the guys have money to spend on a girl. But dear, it’s just too early in the season.
“Granular is for you younguns. I’m just too old to ski crud. If I’m not thigh deep in powder, why bother? Get me on a helicopter and drop me off into virgin powder, and I am in heaven, heaven, Gwynnie. Get some avalanche action going. Remember when I out-skied that avalanche in the Grand Tetons?
“There won’t be any triple black diamond trails open yet, so what’s the point, dear? Aerials are why I ski, and they’re no fun at all on ice. I planned some new jumps, that I’ve been mastering, dry run, at the gym, but I’m sorry, dear, not on a skating rink, and you won’t be seeing me get soaked in slush. I’ve never caught an edge with any of my landings, and I don’t intend to now.
“Okay, dear, I’d join you for buff studs and drinks après ski, but that only comes after a full day of carving perfect turns.
“No, sorry, I take that back, kiddo. I need to bring down my times for the Senior Winter Olympics. I’m not gonna be competitive sipping brandy before the fireplace all night.
“Gwynnie, there is no way that I’m going back on the half pipe. It’s just too easy. I did 360s, then 720s, and I wasn’t getting any more lift to have more revolutions. Bummer, dear. Plus, the skiers hate the snow boarders, and vice versa. I was expecting full-scale civil war between the two camps.
“Give me a call in January, make that late January, before President’s Day. Every trail will be open then. It’ll be chilly, but I have my flask of Jack to keep me toasty. Only the hearty will brave the cold then, sweetie, no goddamn lines. Keep it real, dear.”
Everyone who follows Gwynnie Paltrow knows how thin her skin is. Shaking her fists at the ceiling, tears streaming down her cheeks, she personally takes to heart every negative comment on social media. Nothing rolls off her back.
She weeps openly moments after she starts to read her Instagram account. Goop employees know to leave her alone as she sobs over every post by any and all Facebook trolls...
Gwynnie brings me to all kinds of places as she wants to introduce to new cultural influences. Most recently, she brought me to the Old Tijuana section of Los Angeles to Grotto el Mexicano which is a favorite among Hollywood types.
Gwynnie always orders the huevos rancheros, and she often goes in the back to tell the Hispanic chefs how the dishes should be cooked. I could hear her loudly shout: “Wrong, wrong, wrong! Butter is last. Buttero es lasto. How did you get to be so stupid, when I got it all going on? Hmm?”
Gwynnie critiques the musical selection and its execution: “Not 8/8, 4/4 time signature, slower, goddammit. I’m not a Mexican jumping bean, you know. Imbecile!
“And play my Grotto favorite, MacArthur Park. Someone left my cake out in the rain. Green icing dripping down. Come on. Sing it like you mean it. Gees, how lame can you get? MacArthur Park, where’s the contemporary feel? Why don’t you have castanets? Hmm? I’ve never heard of a mariachi band so much on the cheap.
“You want el tip-o, don’t you, Gracious Dead? Other, I like to throw pennies on the ground that they scramble for. Throw some pennies. Come on. East meets West, North meets South, rich meets poor. Feel the power of capitalism.
“Hey, the Dead, why do you all look like you’re asleep? Do I have to go out to my car and get my whip? Other, they have trouble with simple instructions. Sing with me, Other. On this verse, hit it!... Someone left my cake out in the rain...”
Gwynnie showed me around the city of Angels when she wasn’t shooting her latest, greatest, Pirates are Forever. She really gave me the insider’s look.
Unbeknownst, every Angeleno eats hot-and-spicy Mexican, or at least Tex-Mex, at every meal. Most here have colitis ulcers because of the endless hot pepper sauce which is even sprinkled on desserts like the apricotos, or the pepperinos.
Very surprisingly, White children in L.A. today, are all proudly named either: Jose, Magdalena, Conchita, Nestor, Ronaldo, Consuela, and Miguel, after Mexican, Incan, or Mayan, folk heros...
Reese “Roseanne” Witherspoon
(Photograph by Tabercil from the 2014 TIFF)
Hey, Reese, we know you’re friendly with Kerry Washington, and we know she’s Black. Then you know how taboo it is to have a Black girlfriend like her. Reese, you might be blacklisted by Hollywood for contact with the Black race. Plus, because you’re a Southerner, you know you have to keep social distance with Black folk. You’re supposed to stay with your own kind.
Whatever you do, don’t bring it to the next level, and mix socially with Hispanics and Asians. We don’t need double trouble. Or if there’s a Native American on set, no powwows, you’d only be asking for a career ending spectacle, with cross-burning (or Apache equivalent), witnessed before Entertainment Tonight, and The New York Times.
Reese, I know how to at last get your career going. First and foremost, “Keep it White.” Mix with your own skin color, this is the only place to find true friendship. Whites are so successful, because of inbreeding, and exclusiveness.
Reese, you reached out to me. You wanted to know how to finally get your career going. So I made this your new mantra: “Keep it White!!!”
Reese I’m not saying to be ashamed of your Black acquaintances, but you must never be seen with any Black woman in public. If you go out to lunch with one, and there are paparazzi, be safe, and run to another restaurant without photogs for cover. You’ll thank me for my progressive and patient mentorship. Remember, Reese, please: White is right!!!
Reese is a very thoughtful woman who doesn’t believe in blatantly displaying her sexuality. This is in sharp contrast to tawdry Duchess Kate who relishes any and all opportunity to flash her booty.
Reese has said that she will never openly display her sexuality in any men’s magazine. This isn’t just because of her upbringing — as she claims — but instead, because she had issue with her own physical appearance.
In her Vanity Fair feature, she claimed that “funny doesn’t sag.” Hers may one day sag, yet don’t sag yet, but she’s running out of time to prove it. Otherwise, she’s saving up that Maxim pictorial for a guy she hasn’t yet met.
(Reese, I know that gentlemen never tell, but I have payroll to make, and a multinational to run. Sorry...)
Reese has done her best to alienate Pantheon screeners who are now vetting for the Oscars season. Somehow, top-level Other Letter has found it to forgive her for her many, many indiscretions (see below concerning Oprah’s treatment of Michael Jackson). That said, is there anyone perkier, and more upbeat in Hollywood as Reese is? She competes with Taylor Swift for the sunshine crown...
For all anyone outside of the Witherspoon family knows, Reese’s husband may have died a few years prior. No one knows if any of the Pantheon husbands are even alive, because they rarely hang out with their wives in public.
They have the strangest, non-committed marriages. Why would they ever get married, if they don’t absolutely adore the ground on which each other treads, and don’t want to spend every waking minute together?...
Reese Witherspoon was removed from an Other Pantheon because of her close ties with Oprah Winfrey. Oprah was the one who said “Hope lives” after Trump was inaugurated. Winfrey also allowed those who testified for Michael Jackson in court, to testify against him on Oprah, so they can promote their new movie.
In Reese’s moving, yet a bit rambling, excerpted, 87-page attempt to get back into the Pantheon, she claimed that Oprah was just a, and we’ll quote:
“...a ton of cocoa blubber...[and that] The Other Letter welcoming a dwarf such as myself into the Pantheon has made my lilliputian burden that much lighter to bear...You are a national treasure, Other, more so than even Streep, of whom I agree with you, she does overact in her movies...
“Put me back on your Pantheon, and I’ll even show you my world class collection of Elvis memorabilia, including his headband and cape from Viva Las Vegas! It is in mint, I mean mint condition. I was at an Elvis swap meet just last November, and I scored these beauties.
They’re insured for over $10,000, but they’re priceless, just priceless. Other, these are museum quality, easy. Where is Elvis when you need him? You know what I’m saying?
“I’m up for almost every role in Hollywood where they need a kid who has the acting chops of an adult. As a dwarf, I can play children, I regularly get offered these parts. I even tell my agent to underestimate my height. I’m five-foot-one, but I tell William Morris to say I’m four-foot-seven. I mean every actress overestimates her bust measurement, why can’t I fudge my height a little?
“Quentin had called my agent just last week. He’s remaking The Sound of Music, and I’m up for Liesl. I’m getting down the method acting for her now: ‘I am sixteen, going on seventeen, la, la, la.’ I cannot wait. This is a plum dwarf role, in a long line of plum dwarf roles I’ve played. Playing Liesl? This is every actress’ dream come true!!
“Quentin said he’ll be playing up the carnage side of The Sound of Music. You know, when the Nazis invade wherever the Hell it is they invade.
“Anyhow, I really admire Quentin for his use of bloodshed to advance the narrative. Mister Tarantino told me that Liesl will be toting a semi-automatic rifle for her entire performance. I’ve got my finale down cold: “The hills are alive with the sound of rat-tat-tat.” I’ll be singing it, because the Julie Andrews role doesn’t make it past the First Act.
“In the Swiss Alps, she dies in a friendly fire incident, one related to the war effort. You know when they escape at the Von Trapp performance near the end? In Quentin’s version, there is no escape. Bodies laying everywhere bleeding in the theater. Talk about drama. Isn’t that a fascinating use of artistic license? Quentin is a genius.
“I’m getting a little tired of playing characters where they strap me up on stilts like with Kiss boots (I had them play at my kids’ birthday party), or Elton John boots. You know, from his early days. Or they’ll say, ‘We can’t use a dwarf, Reese, we’re sorry.’ But I’m not breaking my ankle for any movie anyhow.
“Give me a shorty role, and I am one happy girl. Playing Roseanne Cash, they had me on stilts. Shh, I’m not authorized to discuss my height prep for Roseanne. But that’s why I stopped auditioning for adult parts, my podiatrist said I had to avoid more sprained ankles, or I wouldn’t be able to stand up without crutches.
“I’m Hollywood’s go-to for adults playing kids. Kids can’t remember their lines for beans anyhow. I’ll tell you though, I’m really looking forward to Quentin’s Sound of Music. They just need to sit me in the makeup trailer a little longer so I look like a teen, or even a tween. Shoot, to be getting any parts at forty-three! I’d play a newborn.
“And if you look at what I can do, and what I’ve done, my nearest midget competitors in the history of Hollywood were the Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz. And did they win Oscar gold? Of course not, they were untrained dwarves, but I am a supremely-trained dwarf. I took the all-time biggest dwarves to the mat — no pun intended.
“Other, how’s that for success in Hollywood? I’m a legend among midgets. I am so worthy of inclusion in your Pantheon, so worthy. Don’t disappoint me, I can get you a job in Hollywood. We all started in craft services, can you flip soy-burgers?...”
“Famous” Kate Hudson
Kate Hudson wears a surgical mask and gloves to the super market. This is obviously not enough. She needs to wear a head-to-toe, hazmat suit with full-face helmet and oxygen tank. When will Kate have enough protection from the elements? That get-up may approach what she needs...
Kate received her Oscar nomination for Almost Famous, don’t call me to the mat for calling her “Almost” Kate Hudson.
Dream girl Kate Hudson didn’t miss a beat in her Oscar-nom, yet she only received the Academy Award finalists, not the Oscar (Marcia Gay Harden won in 2000 for Pollock).
The role of super-groupie-hipster Penny Lane was made for Kate, in part because of her Rock ’n Roll lifestyle, great looks, and kind nature. In many of her movies since though, critics had little to say except that even her beautiful, warming sunshine was not enough to brighten these screenplays’s dismal prospects.
Ms. Hudson carries herself as someone older might, yet she is only a youthful-looking 40 years old. She is famous friends with Gwyneth Paltrow.
Kate has appeared on Glee as Cassandra July, famed dance instructor at the occasionally celebrated New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts.
Ms. Hudson is a devout Buddhist, as is her Mom, Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-in alumna Goldie Hawn — and just like her Mom, she is much smarter than she appears to be.
Sofía “I’m Up Here” Vergara
(Peter | © 2012 American Broadcasting Companies, Inc.)
Sofía Vergara had planned on a career in dentistry, and was two semesters shy from completing her undergraduate degree, when a photog noticed her on a beach in her native Columbia. This led to modeling work, and then to co-hosting Fuera de serie (or Out of the Ordinary), a travel series where Sofia reported back from exotic locales all around the globe. This show, and her beautiful, effervescent personality, made her a huge hit in the Univisión Latin American television market.
Because of turmoil in her homeland, she hoped for a better life in America, so she moved to Miami. (Her older brother was murdered during a kidnap attempt in 1998; and in 2011, her younger brother was deported back to Columbia.)
Ms. Vergara has appeared in several movies and television shows — both English and Spanish-language — but the vehicle that really moved her show business career into high gear was Modern Family.
For her Modern Family role alone, Ms. Vergara earned four Golden Globes, four Primetime Emmys, and seven Screen Actors Guild Awards. The financial periodical Forbes ranks Sofia as the highest earning actor on United States television.
Sofia appeared with Reese Witherspoon in Don’t Mess with Texas about a prisoner and a police officer on the run. Sofia has great, sexy dance moves you would never see North of the border.
Jessica “The Tycoon” Alba
Jessica Alba is the cutie-pie with the absolutely adorable, megawatt smile. Considering Jessica has been in 50 movies in her 33 years, she may well be one of the hardest working women in all of show business. Ms. Alba chooses to work in the most unusual films. She has been in Machete, and its sequel Machete Kills. She appeared in It Has Begun: Bananapocalypse, and had a leading role in more mainstream films like Little Fockers.
Ms. Alba recently wrapped up a sequel to Sin City entitled Sin City: A Dame to Kill For. With the redux, Jessica reprised her role as Nancy, but unlike the very well-received original, the next edition met with lukewarm reviews. The reason it was even made is because Hollywood would much rather bank on remaking a successful, known quantity, than take risks on anything new yet unproven. Watching the sequel, one got the sense that the director behind the second installment of the franchise, one ten years in the making, spent much more time on visual design than spent time rewriting the script — assuming the premise had any more life in it, and it may not have.
While Jessica’s biggest money-makers are in the sci-fi, action-thriller genres, including Fantastic Four, and Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer, one readily gets the sense that she possesses the intellect to do much better than appear in those simple fantasy roles, or crime-thriller ones like Awake or The Killer Inside Me. In fact, Ms. Alba studied acting with William H. Macy and his wife, Felicity Huffman (the ones who were nailed in an admissions sting), at the Atlantic Theater Company, one developed by Macy and David Mamet, the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright.
An avid swimmer and PADI-certified scuba-diver, Jessica was well-suited for the part of Maya on the television series Flipper. Sky Angel, as IMDB Pro lists her alias, elevated her game a notch or two playing Max Guevera in the TV series Dark Angel, a role which won her the Golden Globe.
Ms. Alba co-founded The Honest Company, a distributor of 100% natural home and baby products. The company fulfilled an unmet need in Jessica as she has two young girls, and she found it difficult to find products to care for them that were non-toxic. The company floated an initial public offering expected to raise $1 billion in corporation capital for Jessica, and the two other co-founders, as well as an investment consortium.
Albz — she definitely has interesting nicknames — identified with feminism by the age of five. While her family is very conservative, she was always the opposite. Ms. Alba broke ranks from the Church after she was hit on continually, and the youth pastor said it was because she was dressing provocatively when she knew she wasn’t. He said that the unwelcome advances were her fault, that she was coming on to these leches, and that she had to redeem herself for her past. Jessica saw the weak roles women played in the Bible, and this further alienated her from Christianity.
Ms. Alba is regularly included on listings of the most desirable, hottest, and sexiest women of People, FHM, GQ, Empire, and Maxim magazines. Directors want her to be nude in their films, but she has a no-nudity clause inserted in all of her contracts. Unlike many of her peers, Jessica has also made it very clear she will never sleep with anyone to advance her career.
Besides all this, Jessica gives as much of her time and energy as she can to Habitat for Humanity, environmental causes, AIDS prevention, and women’s and gay rights promotion and recognition.
“Softspoken” Maggie Gyllenhaal
(Still from The Dark Knight
DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. © 2008
Seen here and elsewhere, Maggie
possesses an irresistible and charming glow.)
Maggie seems so endearing and sweet, but she’s married as the day is long, so we won’t be putting any moves on her...
Sadly, Maggie Gyllenhaal is not getting all the parts she very richly deserves. While obviously a looker herself, Ms. Gyllenhaal is so much more than just the eye candy seen of every other starlet. As a rule, Hollywood people don’t have degrees. Maggie is brilliant, she has an Ivy League sheepsking from Columbia University. An Ivy Leaguer and an Academy Award nominee for Crazy Heart, plus she was nominated for Golden Globe awards, for Sherrybaby and Secretary.
She may be best known for her very sexual portrayal of submissive Lee Holloway in Secretary. Besides her performance, Maggie can also be credited for not worrying about what others think of her...
One of Maggie’s favorite turns is playing the lead in a meaningful, and timely, mini-series from the British Broadcasting Corporation (the BBC) called, The Honourable Woman. Ms. Gyllenhaal portrays Nessa Stein, daughter of an Israeli arms dealer who ultimately turns the destructive family business into one supporting communication infrastructure between the Arabs and the Israelis...
And Ms. Gyllenhaal won the Golden Globe for her tour de force, bravura performance as Nessa. That was her first Golden Globe win, and the hope here is that this will more doors for Maggie.
Maggie has a soft, honey-sweet, and beautiful speaking voice. If I was Ms. Gyllenhaal’s agent, I would be lining up voice work for her.
With remarkable candor, Ms. Gyllenhaal discusses being a new mother on the Chelsea Lately show.
Kirsten “Turn-on” Dunst
(Promotional still from On Becoming a God in Central Florida)
There’s a bit of an X-rated optical illusion in play below...
I’ve seen several of these Pantheon women (Kirsten seems to me like one, Gwynnie seems like another), and who they get saddled with as marital partners — along with dealing with excess baggage like offspring. (Offspring aren’t excess baggage unless they are accidents, as they seem to be in some cases here.)
Saddled is probably the wrong term, but an unhappy marriage — especially one where their kids may not be healthy because of constant fighting — is a major burden that sucks the life right of, well, life.
I don’t know any of these women, or their carefully-chosen spouses, but they do seem to have really settled. They’ve married down. They marry much younger guys, they marry far less successful guys. There is no point in having these husbands tag along on to the red carpet with these women, their “better halves” don’t have any star power.
It seems like there’s a lull in their career, and they hook up with the next acceptable candidate for life-long companionship that comes along. They may be ignored by their industry, and shut out at awards ceremonies, so they do the equivalent of slumming it. As they say: Marry in haste, repent at leisure...
Kirsten’s star is on the rise though. She’s top-billed in On Becoming a God in Central Florida. Ms. Dunst was most recently on the Sirius Radio Network where she lamented the lack of appreciation she has gotten for all her great work.
At Other Letter, we know the real reason Kirsten hasn’t been getting the kudos she deserves — her boobs are too big to be taken seriously by Hollywood. To casting agents, she’s got a corporation up front, and this corporation says porn star is her real calling. Big knockers are not taken seriously when the casting director is looking to fill a Grace Kelly-esque part.
Kirsten has said that: “My boobs precede my reputation wherever I go, I can’t help it, they do. They intoxicate the audience, but they’re just boobies, you know what I’m saying? So I’m typecast as the flirty sex pot. If everyone will just see around them for once, I’d start taking home awards trophies. I just bet I’d be taking home gold by now...”
Kirsten was at Coachella, except she spent some time at Churchella. That’s some goofiness her manager pulled on her, we’re pretty sure: “Go to Churchella, Kirsten, improve your movie demographics with people who spend all day praying for forgiveness. You’re not getting the roles you deserve, Kirsten, spend Sundays at Mass chatting up the congregation. Work your fan base.”
Managers like to suggest Church chat to their clients, unless there’s a new Kirsten, one who loves Jesus the Christ. It’s just too sad to contemplate.
Amanda “Linda” Seyfried
(© Nine Lives, LLC.
Nine Lives still)
Amanda had quite a health scare at the age of nineteen. She was absolutely certain she had a brain tumor, and that it was going to kill her. She was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and depression.
Until the age of seventeen, Amanda took classical singing lessons. This prepared her for the role of Cosette in the 2012 film adaptation of Les Misérables. Ms. Seyfried can sing in perfect pitch, just listen to how she sings and plays guitar on the Sixties classic, Little Red Riding Hood. Amanda also has Bette Davis Eyes.
Amanda lives life on her own terms, and possesses quite the intellect. She studied meteorology for a spell, even hoping to make it as a career before people noticed her acting abilities. Ms. Seyfried is also fascinated with taxidermy, and she has several museum-quality specimens — yes, taxidermy.
Katy “Tay’s Understudy” Perry
Does Snow White have to be a blond?
Katy is being sued for $150,000 because she posted a photo onto her Instagram account of herself taken by someone else. She was decked out in a Halloween costume.
The implication is that Katy pocketed $150k in Katy-traffic by not offering attribution — except she’s not selling anything. Then did Ms. Perry contribute $150k to her bottom line by posting this photo? How on Earth did they ever arrive at that $150k figure?
Is it because she’s well-off, so she can be soaked?...
Some of her best songs include: Wide Awake, Waking Up in Vegas, Roar, Firework, Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.), California Gurls, and I Kissed a Girl.
Given her writing and performing interests, it’s surprising that her parents are both Pentecostal ministers. Katy began her career singing California Gospel and initially had limited exposure to secular, non-religious music. The next genre in her musical evolution was country compositions. Again, a far cry from what she sings today.
Katy is not from money, and her family struggled for awhile when she was young. Unlike many of her peers, she has done significant charity work, specifically relief efforts in poverty-stricken Madagascar with UNICEF.
Taylor “Country Legend” Swift
Taylor was always a songstress, although now she can add sex pot to her curriculum vitae. She went from average-looking to va-va-voom, gorgeous in three years. I say it’s hair coloring — and getting Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, the badasses, off of her back.
If you ever wondered why Taylor Swift is the biggest name in popular music, this is why: She has cornered the market on attractiveness, being insightful, and she holds title to unsullied sweetness and goodness. Yet she never, ever, sounds outdated. Taylor is one hipster of a chick.
(Facebook account of Taylor Swift
All Rights Reserved, © 2019, Taylor Swift)
This is bosomy Taylor Swift after she stopped starving herself. She filled out in all the right places. I posted the photo linked above when Taylor still looked like a camp survivor, so I get all the credit for her transformation.
Girls, your results may vary. You could make Krispy Kreme part of your routine, and just as easily become a Kim Kardashian double wide, instead of a double-D.
Today’s women have bigger boobs than they did a hundred years ago. This is because they didn’t have enough protein back then, or food in general. The scientists are still hard at work trying to prove my maxim, but don’t worry, I know of which I speak.
Do Kim Kardashian and her boyfriend have any talents? Besides picking fights with Taylor Swift for publicity, that is? Her siblings just fight with her, they are all argumentative. All they ever do is bitch about nothing, and somehow get paid eight figures in the process. The whole lot of them are disgusting, and they know it.
Taylor, the very, very, good apple, has done it again. She’s been giving out several, $3,000 checks for those who lost their jobs because of the Coronavirus pan(dem)ic. Gees, can a girl be any more of a sweetheart?
This would explain her holding court over a bevy of beauties, ones who she was very close with, and who saw her as their leader (they have grown apart as Taylor readies herself for matrimonial duties with another British actor she met at one of dozens of annual, industry showcases).
Everyone gravitates to Tay, except of course, alien life forms like Kim Kardashian, and Kanye West who engineered a vicious tape-edit takedown. The New York Times is attempting to resuscitate Kim’s public image with a piece highlighting her current interest in prisoner rights, and her devotion to the cause of Trump.
Ms. Swift has taken her haters all in stride, as she follows one of her earlier mantras, Shake it Off. Don’t you remember her call for inner peace: “The haters gonna hate, hate, hate...”?
Taylor, we haven’t chit-chatted in so long. I’ll fill you in with what’s new here. Remember I told you that after my debut album, recorded live at the Garden, I was working on my debut studio album?
Well, I’ll be dropping Girls, your Adonis has Arrived this Friday. The album explores my irresistible yet humble personality, and how having my NFL-caliber physique effects my relationships with women.
This is where you come in. I’d like you to promote this. You know, press junkets, radio interviews, and stuff like that. Just say that you know well the legend of The Other Letter, and you’ll do anything to bring him to the next level.
Don’t grovel, but just prove how privileged you are to be on the same planet with me. You can combine it with whatever else you’re shilling. I’m trying to accommodate your career while Girls, your Adonis has Arrived goes solid gold with your advertising skills.
If I pay you, then you’ll just think I’m just using you. So it’d be best if you worked gratis. I’ll treat you to a sack of sliders from White Castle. Don’t worry, I’ll treat. How’s that? That’s right, Taylor, your Adonis has arrived...
I just wrote an open letter regarding White trash, Kim and Kanye, in service of my Lord, Taylor Swift...
I have this question for my readers: Is there any truth to the rumors that Taylor served a year in the Tennessee Penitentiary for Women because of a grand theft auto conviction?
And that the sentence was commuted by the Governor, because in jail it was discovered that she had lots of talent as a banjo player? And that she was much cuter than her cell mates? And that she has a prison tattoo covering her back of a calico kitten named Bocephus?...
I’ve noted a bit of a flaw in Taylor’s psychological makeup. Readers shudder in fear, but want to know more. When discussing her career, she frames the discussion entirely as one about herself. To be brutally honest, she sounds a bit self-absorbed. Readers wonder if it is somehow possible that the leader of Swifty Nation is not perfect.
Once she starts going into a “me, me, me,” tear, I want to give her a good spanking. She might try including other artists in her in-depth interviews. If they ask Taylor who her influence is, she should think of someone beside herself.
Just think of someone that everyone will agree with, like Billy Joel, and for good measure, Eric Clapton, and Steve Winwood. Taylor, you want to be a guitar hero, don’t you? And you want to be a piano virtuoso, too? Well, go with them, and if you pick up the drums, say your influence is Ginger Baker, or Buddy Rich.
Or go with a real scene stealer, and tell a few amusing anecdotes you have about all the time we’ve spent together. Talk about how we first met under the awning of the White Castle when it was raining on that Valentine’s Day. I held open the door for you. Remember you said, “Oh, such a gallant gentleman, Other, I swoon.” We entered the Castle, and then you told the slider sack (not me): “Where have you been my thirty, long-tortured, years?”
Then you gave me a grand, and the code to your mansion gate, because you had never had a friend like me before — don’t you remember?
Or when we snuck into the Super Bowl, and once the ushers realized who you were they sat us in Barack Obama’s Skybox. Or when you introduced me to the standing-room-only crowd at Madison Square Garden, and Swifty Nation gave me a standing ovation? Don’t you remember? I sure do!
Taylor, we know I’m carrying your burden much of the time, but I do it in hopes that you become a superstar that’s widely respected and admired, instead of another, self-immersed Kim Kardashian...
Taylor and me chit-chat at least once a week, or more when she’s touring, but we’ve kind of lost touch. She has her music empire to keep going, and I have my blogging empire to keep at the top of the heap.
Usually, we find the time for me to help guide her musical career. This is our special time together, because she highly values my patient but assured mastery of all that baffles women, but this guy knows in spades.
My fear, and you’ve seen this with her bff Karlie Kloss, is that we have no time for our so-valued tête-à-têtes. I can easily see her career tailspin as a result, because I’m really all she has as her clinician, and as her master of the universe. Without me, Taylor roams the seas, rudderless.
We both know this, about her extreme isolation (her Rhode Island Breakers home is her sad, forty-room, Batgirl cave), and her completely-thwarted desire to live a fulfilling life. Unfortunately for her, all the good things in life just aren’t possible without my help...
Taylor has recently talked of turning her back on her fans, and her music career. I’d imagine it can be a drain, and all encompassing, but she’s a bit young to be in a rocking chair. My sense is that her music is her best therapy, especially now, because her Mom has cancer.
When Taylor stands before tens of thousands of screaming fans, she must be entirely enthralled and electrified. She is the all-time, reigning wholesome charmer, the only one loved by every age. She wants to trade this in for quality time with her cats?
Ms. Swift, remember when you could get the best table in The Ivy Restaurant by just snapping your fingers?
(Apropos of nothing, Ashley Judd was a hostess there, before her career took off. The Ivy is where Hollywood goes to be seen by paparazzi.)
If you walk away from music at the height of your powers over all of us, then you’ll walk into The Ivy for a table, and the next Ashley Judd will say: “Taylor who? Rich, do we know any Taylors?... Okay, the only seat we have is next to the kitchen door.”
Do you see my point, Taylor? Play music about the latest guy you dumped, or sit on a rocking chair with your cats, and be denied a table at The Ivy. The choice is yours...
According to her Miss Americana biopic, Taylor may bow out of show business by the age of 35. Female pop stars are sent to the “elephant graveyard” by then. Of course, this is very saddening to all her fans.
Taylor could bail out of this trying pop world, and just live life to the fullest, and anyway she sees fit. Then, Ms. Swift can freely express her mind and politics without any concern for hurting her record sales. Given her mind-numbing level of global exposure, getting off the merry-go-round of popularity could be exactly what the doctor ordered.
Taylor could also devote full attention to her Mom, who has brain cancer. While I am sure that Taylor gets the absolute best of medical care for her family, there are definitely charlatans in the field. I’d hope she doesn’t choose her doctors, the same way she chose her career management (like choosing Scooter Braun who turned on Taylor with his renunciation of fiduciary duties)...
In Taylor’s biopic, Miss Americana Deserves Revenge, she is given the news that her epic, Reputation, fell short with the Grammy noms, it didn’t even get a nomination for Best Album. In 2018, Ms. Swift had the biggest selling album, and was the highest-rated artist on Billboard magazine.
Yet Other Letter has the real story, one overlooked by trade newspaper, Variety, and Rolling Stone. Listen closely to Delicate off of Reputation. There’s a D7 chord followed by an A minor chord, then of all things, a G minor chord — a what?!!! The critics, the Grammy people must have all gotten ill, hearing that chord progression. It was that flawed of a composition — ouch!!!
For Taylor’s part, she did say that she would only try harder next time. She knew the top-selling album of the year wasn’t enough, not with that chord progression — yikes!!! Swift was caught resting on her laurels yet again. For shame, Taylor, for shame!!!
I’ve noticed, just looking at how they treat Taylor, that these awards shows are extremely subjective, and just as political. Taylor could have been voted off the island just because she’s not a slut, and the Grammys are moving towards slut.
There’s an even more troublesome issue: Taylor has very valid political viewpoints, especially regarding gay and lesbian rights, but not viewpoints the Trump crowd will allow (that is, not fascist). She makes flawless records, and the winners make slapped together crap. One just needs to do the math...
I have some sad news to report at The Other Letter: Taylor identifies with Christianity. Given that religion’s position on homosexuality, she isn’t much different from a Jew admiring Hitler. I know that she is relatively young, and under extreme stress — her Mom has a tumor in her brain — yet what is Baby Jesus ever going to do for her?
Depend on your family and friends, or even your fans, and if the absolute worst happens, you can channel your Mom — you generally know how she’d respond to different types of questions.
Oh, yeah, the tumor is also sad news, but the passion for Baby Jesus is even worse. It implies a feebleness, cowardice, and any other character defect I can think of right now. Baby Jesus must be stopped, and let it begin with my Pantheon.
Taylor, I know this isn’t the best time, but please, please, toss out the homilies and the Bibles, either via trash compactor, or better, if you have an incinerator, fire it up. Sprinkle the ashes over at your Church, one that oppresses gays, lesbians, and women in general...
In Taylor’s new biopic, Miss Americana, she talks about her eating disorder and all else, but not a word about Scooter Braun, the one who snapped up her catalog behind her back. He wishes her well, and is fond of her. This is like a rapist saying how fond he is of someone he just raped. If he cared about her, he would’t have stolen her life’s work in the first place.
Braun seems to think that all’s fair in love and capitalism. He’s just scum as far as I’m concerned. The best that could happen to him is that Taylor’s fans buy nothing from her older catalog, the one he bought. Taylor, you should learn to do a cover of Dirty Deeds done Dirt Cheap...
Taylor Swift made a huge admission, or at least I thought so, except I suspected it all along. She has an eating disorder. Taylor’s dieting and staying thin became so fixated with being a good person that she almost starved herself to death.
Ms. Swift was being rewarded for being thinner and thinner still, so she would regularly starve herself. She began chasing the elusive dragon of a perfectly-flat tummy at the expense of her health.
Thankfully, she’s so much healthier now, and these days, if I may say, she has a great rack, and a very nice tush. Every woman should look like Taylor now...
Ms. Swift is starring in her autobio pic, Miss Americana. Taylor, we haven’t seen the sights for so long. We haven’t danced in the streets, well, it seems like forever. Do you remember the cobblestones of Old Quebec City? Or the Fens in Boston? Tay, have you forgotten everything we shared together?
Doesn’t this seem like yesterday: the gelato in Miami, the deep-dish pizza in Chicago, the tossed green salad in Malibu? Time keeps moving on, so we march right on with it. For shame, time, for shame...
Taylor is never in a bad photograph. She is never pouting, she is always smiling (either exterior or interior smiles), and if this whole music biz doesn’t work out, she could easily find work as a super model. Do other girls hate her because her good looks are a bit outside the norm?...
Taylor Swift is unadulterated sunshine. If you’re feeling down and blue, just listen to her music, and you’ll pop back up to life. Taylor will be your girl for the next few hours...
On December 13th of 1989, I looked out into the night sky, and the moon was unexpectedly in the constellation of Aquarius. I knew this was big, really big.
As foretold in scripture, this meant just one thing: The Age of Aquarius had begun again, and the next messiah would be born in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. She would be a pop megastar, she would be Taylor Swift...
Taylor Swift is recuperating from her involvement in Cats, the Movie and the Fur Ball. Sadly, this movie was a bit of a disappointing misfire. Yet, because of the millions invested, Taylor still has to slog out to the talk shows, and pretend that the production was the greatest time ever.
More upsetting for both Taylor and her fans, was that Jennifer Hudson was in the cast. Jennifer has an operatic voice, Taylor doesn’t.
Taylor Nation searches desperately for consolation. Wait, kids, Taylor writes her own music — Jennifer doesn’t! Whew! That was a close call. All clear! Feel free to get up and move about your pod. Taylor Nation is secure once more.
(For those playing our home game, Beyoncé has neither an operatic voice, nor writes her own music, yet Beyoncé is a much bigger star than Jennifer is, or will ever be...)
Taylor makes sure her parties, aka her “gatherings,” and “happenings,” are ethnically, sexually, and racially well-balanced.
She often invites token Blacks, Asians, Indians, Pacific Islanders, and even an Eskimo, who popped up at her Fourth of July bash this year in native bearskin.
Taylor played Maria in the recent Sound of Music remake, and she got to know several shepherds who are into the bestiality scene, ones who bring along their sheep girlfriends when they’re visiting Taylor in the States. This fills out her sexuality complement of her “happenings.”
This mix is all carefully orchestrated to make the photo ops more presentable to both the fans, and the mass media, alike. If you don’t believe me, browse through Taylor’s Instagram until you find the many “happenings” with sheep front and center. See what I mean?...
It’s time to play an inning of hard ball with Taylor Swift. I am typically one-hundred-percent behind everything Taylor does. Yet does Taylor ever talk about stuff besides being pitted against the Man while being worth $400 million?
I don’t understand why she’s complaining. I heard others raise the point as well that she’s so unbelievably privileged, to complain regularly about her not reaching professional and financial goals sounds so disingenuous and insincere, and just as self-absorbed.
The rest of America doesn’t own a private jet, but do you ever hear any of us complain about it? Taylor, please, you need to see your personal torment in light of the greater perspective...
Because of an unexplained ripple in the time-space continuum, I sent this on her birthday. If I knew it was her birthday, I’d have sent her a cake, not a nasty gram...
Taylor Swift can still buy the rights to her recording masters, can’t she? As soon as Scooter, the record executive who screwed Taylor, runs out of cash, he’ll have to sell the Swift music collection, the crown jewel of his investment portfolio.
Because of Taylor’s outrage over his walking off with her music rights, she has iced the demand on her entire catalog. Her fans are losing interest in buying her old albums.
Scooter has an extremely expensive asset that he might not be able to make profitable. If an asset like Taylor’s is distressed, and is not profitable, these would have to be sold, and I’d have to think, Ms. Swift would be the highest bidder — and the auction price could be struck at a fire sale...
Here’s a few notes from Taylor Swift’s, London Capital FM, Jingle Bell Ball (I took the big bird in to Heathrow to catch her performance). This pop juggernaut can sure put on a show, she loves working the crowd. She enjoys both creating her work and singing it before tens of thousands of ecstatic fans.
Ms. Swift is a better on-stage dancer than she once was. There was a time when Karlie Kloss had her bettered, but now Taylor is on a par with her bff. Taylor had a few philosophical, polished and expert, song intros, one about the vagaries of love.
Taylor is worth four-hundred-million-dollars, so she isn’t doing the concerts for the money anymore. She’d do this for free, or ten million U.S. (kidding).
This particular concert featured her latest, greatest, the nostalgic, Christmas Tree Farm. Taylor played old home movies on a screen in the back of the stage which evoked happy memories of when her family was still altogether (her parents had divorced within the last few years).
Taylor has the gift of being able to melt the heart of the most hardened of the battle-weary. She is pure, unadulterated, audio sunshine. Looking at the video, is that a fishing lure she got for Christmas? I am trying to figure out how appropriate would it be for a six-year-old to get a fly lure.
Nonetheless, Taylor is overjoyed by the new fishing bait. She must be looking forward to going casting with it on the Susquehanna River, where she spent much of her childhood digging up earthworms, before the over fishing...
Taylor Swift just released her holiday, latest, greatest, which is entitled, Christmas Tree Farm. Via home movies from when she was a youngster, the video recounts her storybook upbringing in rural Pennsylvania as the farmer’s daughter.
Yet, there is much more to the story as recounted by her now forgotten sister, Melody. The christmas tree farm was deeply in debt, and unless Taylor pulled her weight as a twelve-year-old, Dad Swift would have to torch the christmas trees to collect insurance loot. Taylor begged her dad not to set the farm aflame, because birds nested in the trees, and her cherished cats loved to eat the birds.
The reason that the farm was failing was because it was situated on I-80 by Exit 293 - Scranton. There aren’t any christmas tree shoppers by Exit 293, there are only truckers, and the truckers were much more interested in Taylor, than they were in buying christmas trees.
Ma and Pop Swift had heard great things about setting up shop along the Scranton-Allentown corridor, but there just wasn’t the seasonal traffic they had expected. Taylor’s parents needed to come up with something quick, however half-baked, because Tay, and her brother, Austin, were beginning to show signs of malnutrition.
Mom and Dad Swift would drag Taylor down to the Scranton Waffle House, across from the truck stop, where she would busk for tips. On a really good day, Taylor would bring home three dollars, and on a bad day, under a dollar.
If it rained or snowed, Austin would hold an umbrella for Taylor. If Austin wasn’t around, she forgoed the guitar, held the umbrella for herself, and sang a cappella.
Poppa Swift kept reminding Taylor, that it was either eight hours a day of this, or the whole family was out on the street. This is where Taylor Swift learned the value of hard work, and toughened her for any of life’s bumps and bruises like Kanye West and Kim Kardashian.
It wasn’t until Taylor rushed the stage at a Willie Nelson concert, her guitar in hand, that Nashville royalty finally took notice. She was escorted backstage, where Willie heard her play, I’m just a Country Girl at Heart, and he was hooked. The rest is country and western genre, young adult demographic, history...
Hi, I’m Taylor. My breasts are now larger, and I write kickin’ tunes. How about I pencil you in for next weekend, and we’ll see if we can make sparks fly. Do we have a deal? Hmm?...
The Other Side
Doris “Runs Heaven Now” Day
(Pillow Talk, 1959)
Doris Day (aka Doris Mary Kappelhoff) is a scene stealer. Try to catch any of her films on cable channel, Turner Classic Movies, and you’ll see exactly what I mean — even up against Hollywood legends such as Rock Hudson who seems stiff in comparison.
She has appeared in a great number of bedroom comedies like Lover Come Back, Send Me No Flowers, and Pillow Talk, which not only ride on her considerable sex appeal, but on her comedic abilities. She does slapstick, physical comedy, in these films as well. Doris is also an unusually accomplished singer.
TCM has noted her comic timing, yet what I notice is that she appropriately interprets the script. There is nuance and intonation in the expression of meaning, character, and theme. Of the movies I’ve seen of hers, she carries the show.
Ms. Day was teased unfairly for her demure femininity. The line goes: “I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin.” Yet this woman is so inherently likeable. She just melts your heart. Hollywood today is so dour, and so bitter. Doris Day is pure, unadulterated sunshine.
She belonged to a generation of superstars, from the Golden Age of Hollywood, that seemed to just have more star power wattage. It’s as if there was a stronger, tighter-knit community, that established a more suitable crucible for creating screen legends. Did greater camaraderie make for less conflicted stage and screen personalities, ones capable of more fluid performances?
Or were scripts written during a time when the movie production could not fall back on special effects making them that much more effective, and the resulting film that much more watchable and enjoyable?
Ms. Day is an activist for animal rights. She is the founder of The Doris Day Animal Foundation, and is dead set against using animals for fur coats.
Mary “Wrong Party” Tyler Moore
(Still from The Mary Tyler Moore Show
Lou Grant, her boss, was very upsetting to poor Mary Richards.)
While we obviously have no proof, is there a chance that five days into a Trump Presidency, and seeing the havoc he has already reeked, soured our loveable Ms. Moore on not only her Republican Party, but on life itself, and caused her death?
In other words, did Trump turn her world off by being vile? Did Trump make a worthwhile day and suddenly make it seem like nothing? We’re sure now Mary knows it, with each glance, and every little movement she showed it. Trump is all around, Mary had need to fake it, she had the town once, it’s too late to take it. Today, she discovered he might just build that wall after all...
IMDB includes a synopsis of The Dick van Dyke Show, a show where Mary Tyler Moore was once a mainstay. They state that Mary’s turn as Laura Petrie was as a “loopy” house wife, although if you have ever watched that show, every character is fairly loopy.
That turn led to her most famous role, the part of Mary Richards in the revered Mary Tyler Moore Show. Here, easy one-liners were eschewed, and in their place were jokes built on the relationships of well-defined characters. As the theme song suggests, Mary Richards was going to make it on her own, without being beholden to any man, especially when that meant being just her hubby’s wife. This radical feminism was unheard of in American TV of the 1970’s.
I must again take exception to the IMDB biography — otherwise well-written, although perhaps penned by a non-believer — in that they claim in the opening credits, that despite her well-established vegan sentiments, she tosses “meat” into her shopping cart. Okay, that looks like poultry to me, and besides, she is not throwing the package of animal product into her shopping cart happily. Rather, she is doing it with obvious disdain, raising the question to all of us in TV land with half a brain: what the hell is in her processed foods, and more relevantly, what is in ours, being raised in the same American corporate farmlands? At the time, this was a clarion call across the U.S. as people could start to see that what they were shopping for, preparing, then setting on their family’s dinner table, was inhumanely-treated crap.
Mary got the Oscar nom, but not the nod, for Ordinary People in 1981, yet the Hollywood Foreign Press Association had the common, good sense to give her three Golden Globes, and to nominate her six other times. She has also won six Emmy awards.
Ms. Moore has Type I Diabetes and supports efforts to find a cure. To that goal, she also supports the very progressive, oddly anti-Vatican policy of stem cell research.
Yet Mary watches a lot of Fox News, and Ed Asner, her MTM co-star, has said she has gotten much more conservative over the years. Given she: “can turn the world on with her smile, she can make a nothing day and suddenly make it seem worthwhile. Well, it’s you girl, and you should know it, with each glance and every little movement you show it. Love is all around don’t need to fake it, you can have the town, why don’t you take it, you might just make it after all (this is worth memorizing just as I have, you never know when such learned esoterica will come in handy).”
You might just make it, Ms. Moore, if you disavow Fox News. As it stands though, you are hereby relegated to Pantheon probation, which will be lifted once you tidy up your politics, and get with the program. Cloris, Ed, and Betty will have their say on your behalf as character witnesses, if they so choose. We run a very tight ship here, Mary, we suggest you toe the line.
Lauren “The Whistler” Bacall
(“You know how to whistle. Don’t you, Steve?”
Just put your lips together ... and blow.)
Lauren Bacall was perhaps best known for her leading roles as the ‘it girl’ opposite Humphrey Bogart in The Big Sleep, Dark Passage, and Key Largo. Besides film noir roles, Ms. Bacall did have starring, comedic turns such as How to Marry a Millionaire with Marilyn Monroe and Designing Woman opposite Gregory Peck.
Lauren had appeared in movies with a Who’s Who of Hollywood’s royalty including: Henry Fonda, Tony Curtis, Natalie Wood, Paul Newman, Shelley Winters, Julie Harris, Robert Wagner, Janet Leigh, Ingrid Bergman, Albert Finney, Sean Connery, and Nicole Kidman.
Lauren Bacall had just two Academy Awards on her mantel, the first for a supporting role in 1996’s The Mirror Has Two Faces, and the second, an Academy Honorary Award, “in recognition of her central place in the Golden Age of motion pictures.” Lauren was an exceptionally accomplished stage actress as well, having won Tonys for the musicals Applause, and Woman of the Year. Lauren Bacall was ranked 20th of the top 25 actresses of all time by the American Film Institute.
Ms. Bacall was married to Humphrey Bogart, and the couple was good friends with Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. After Bogart’s passing, she was involved with the Chairman of the Board, Frank Sinatra, blowing him off once she saw who a few of his friends were.
Because Lauren possessed the courage and conviction to speak out against McCarthyism, she was denied the well-earned accolades she deserved from the motion picture industry, Hollywood, and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Ms. Bacall will always be an absolute giant in Hollywood who only earned her first Oscar, in just a supporting role, in 1997 at the age of 73.
Ms. Bacall had always been proud of her well-grounded, leftist political viewpoints. Lauren was the first cousin of Shimon Peres, the current Prime Minister of Israel.
Greta “Lonely at the Top” Garbo
Watching Greta play her Oscar-winning, title role in Camille, we see Greta’s character change her mind just with facial expressions. She was really quite a phenomenon to watch.
At a few other points in Camille, she must have been playing for the back row of the theater, as her expressions appeared exaggerated. A sophisticated actress, and screen legend, of her caliber wouldn’t overact though. It must have been recognition of 1930’s projection resolution and screen size limitations.
Greta successfully transitioned from silent to talking pictures unlike Nora Desmond of Sunset Boulevard...
Bette Davis had once said, “Her instinct, her mastery over the machine, was pure witchcraft. I cannot analyze this woman’s acting. I only know that no one else so effectively worked in front of a camera.” This was very great praise indeed...
Greta had interests far beyond Tinsel Town’s confines (sounds like Kim Kardashia, doesn’t it?) She amassed an art collection worth millions. Greta chose not to participate in the Hollywood publicity machine. Greta retired at the age of thirty-five after appearing in twenty-eight films. As she was famously quoted, she would rather “be alone,” perhaps with friends, than play the Hollywood game.
Ms. Garbo never married, and didn’t have any children. She was often rumored to be a lesbian. She did say that she “always wanted to be the boss,” and that her favorite pastimes were smoking stogies, drinking six-packs, and watching boxing matches with unshaven legs and underarms (her pastimes were not entirely confirmed at press time, they do sound much like Madonna’s).
Greta Garbo epitomized timeless, effortless, elegance and glamour. One of the most golden from the Golden Age of Hollywood, she began her acting career in Sweden. Ms. Garbo had a very independent spirit from an early age. She spoke her mind, even more so when there was a just cause to sponsor.
The Academy nominated her four times in the Thirties, but only gave her an Honorary Award in 1954. She did not show up at the ceremony to receive it. Her Marguerite Gautier in Camille earned her the most accolades.
Elizabeth “Superstar” Taylor
An Elizabeth Taylor performance is what actresses see when screenwriters read Shakespeare, in other words, stage perfection. As an on-screen legend (and an off-screen one as well), she is imbued with all the spirit and vitality of Creation. Most performances when scrutinized under a pundit’s microscope, find the slightest of flaws in lack of authenticity or genuineness. If you try to find any in Giant, you will come up empty-handed...
Many actresses seen on the silver screen today look as though the air conditioning on the set was set too high, they just do not look comfortable. Elizabeth Taylor looked as though she was sunning on a Hawaiian Isle. Soft caressing ocean breezes, the field hands all eager to placate her every need. In other words, Liz looked as though she was completely composed, in actresses’ Heaven, enjoying every moment...
Be they co-stars in her movies, or friends in her real life, Ms. Taylor could always connect with people. Early on in her career, critics regarded her sexuality as precocious, with her exceptionally rare, violet eyes adding to her allure. To many inside and outside the entertainment industry, she is considered to be the greatest actress to appear on the silver screen. Gloria Steinem likewise described her as a “movie queen with no ego ... expert at what she does, uncatty in her work relationships with other actresses.”
Her charitable work is also legendary. She won a Presidential Citizens Medal in 2001 for raising $200 million for AIDS research, and bringing awareness to the plight of those suffering.
Marlene “Blue Angel” Dietrich
(Shanghai Express still)
Marlene Dietrich’s depth of character risked her very life. As the World geared for Hitler’s vicious, madman aggression, Ms. Dietrich was offered very lucrative contracts to return to her native Germany, and become the premier film star of the Third Reich. It was an offer she somehow found the courage to refuse, and she became an American citizen in 1937.
In the Blue Angel, arguably her most famous screen role, Marlene played a cabaret singer who brought on the downfall of a once respected University professor.
Even early in her career, she would wear a jacket and tie, or other masculine clothing, indicating her refusal to be subjugated to a male-dominated World.
Ms. Dietrich, an accomplished singer, went to Germany in 1944 with General George S. Patton to perform with the USO. Even though she was just a few miles from the Nazi lines, she felt the need to be there “aus Anstand” — “out of decency.”
In the latter stage of her career, and backed with Burt Bacharach as her arranger, she made many cabaret performances in London and Las Vegas. Peter Bogdanovich observed that, with the songs she sings, “she lends each an air of the aristocrat, yet she never patronizes.”
She returned to Germany in 1960, and received a mixed reception, with protesters shouting “Marlene go home!” and with non-Nazis giving her a much warmer welcome.
She succumbed to alcoholism, and a painkiller dependency, at the age of 90.