George Hurrell photo of Jane Russell.

When I read that Knowing, the new film with Nicholas Cage took the top spot at box office this weekend, it made me think of how clueless the American film going public is. During the Great Depression in the 1930’s, Hollywood’s offerings included lavish musicals, stunning actresses, dapper actors, stunning photography (George Hurrell). There was a high art to the film industry that barely exists today. Now, with the studios marketing to the lowest common denominator, what would you expect? A film that gets panned such as Knowing and Friday the 13th land at the top of the heap. I mean…what?!? It’s as though there is no interest in capturing the glory days of Hollywood because there’s be no one to buy the friggen ticket. The horrendous lack of taste and reference from the public leaves our culture void of any depth.

Look, I watch reality TV so I am clearly not a snob, but wouldn’t it be lovely to have film choices beyond “bromances” (boy do I hate that expression), sensationalist catastophies, slasher flicks, and wait…how many comic books must we turn into films? Can we please do a movie with Betty, Veronica, Archie, Reggie and Jughead. It seems so timely with Gossip Girl and all. Except naturally, it would have to be R rated to spice it up or it wouldn’t sell one ticket. So, I guess I will just keep to my mindless reality TV until the industry retools itself to reflect the resurgence of the Golden Age of Hollywood. And no, I will not hold my breath.

The Original Deep Throat

Now that I have your attention, here’s what I am wondering about. Not that Linda Lovelace isn’t riveting, but I am referencing the Deep Throat from Watergate. Let’s face it, if I put up a picture of W. Mark Feit, you’d not even get this far.

In every corporate or political intrigue, there are unwilling participates, albeit with great hesitation. They are conflicted because it goes against their better judgment, moral fiber, values; however, they simply are doing their job. You know, like Nazi-lite. So my question is, where are all the Deep Throats of the financial calamity? Are you trying to tell me that there isn’t a boat load of unwilling participants that knew how wrong these sub-prime mortgages were, or noticed all these weird, jillion-dollar, Madoff-Ponzi-scheme checks, or were horrified at those top level meetings at Citibank on the eve of ordering their new jet or million dollar redecoration plans. Where are they all? Afraid of losing their jobs? Afraid of being murdered? What? Come one. This whole corporate intrigue stuff is so hokey.

I saw Duplicity last night with Julia Roberts and Clive Owen.

Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, Duplicity

Though the movie is delicious-to-look-at, lite entertainment, more importantly it centers on corporate intrigue and things that really, if you think about it, make large corporations look like they are run by such a bunch of moronic buffoons. People you wouldn’t give two shits about or would want to spend two minutes with and frankly, wish ill will. And anyone that screws over Julia and Clive deserves to go to the pokey. (Corporate=Doing the Hokey Pokey)

And this is why I got to thinking. Where are all the people that surround those people? In every office, in every bank, in every brokerage firm, at the Big 3 car companies, in the Congress. Where are our new Deep Throats? Is it just too soon in the game before they come forward unable to live with their guilt and start tipping off the Feds? And since just about everyone in Washington now has dirt on their hands, where would these Deep Throats go to? The newspapers? (Do they yield as much power as in the case of Washington Post in the early 1970′s?) Perhaps The Huffington Post, my online bible?

All this outrage about the money comes down to a very simple rule that Deep Throat (not Linda) told Woodward and Bernstein, “Just…follow the money.” And it is with this I say to prosecutors, journalists, online and newspaper editors, the angry-at-AIG-mob and Katie Couric, go…find your Deep Throats. Help bring all this to light once and for all, so we can really see how despicable these greed mongers are. Let’s not forget that Greed is number three of the 7 Deadly Sins hit parade, with a bullet.

And perhaps most importantly, we should expand all college curricula to include:

• ETHICS 101
• THE BUSINESS OF ETHICS
• ETHICS=TRUE SUCCESS
• THE ETHIC OF ETHICS
• MASTERING ETHICS
• ETHICAL CULTURE
• ETHICS FOR DUMMIES

The Enchantress.

The Enchanted.

What fun. Marianne Faithfull is in New York City for a couple of weeks and its been a flurry of meals followed by long meaningful chats overlooking the Hudson River from The Standard Hotel in the Meatpacking District. Pinch me. We met in 2000 when she was staying at Carrie Fisher’s house, where I used to be under employ. There was a party that evening, then again there was a party every evening in “the good ol’ days”, and I noticed Marianne sitting alone in a room filed with people. I couldn’t resist going over to her and introducing myself. It was before her album Kissin’ Time was released, and the album began playing. She started singing the lyrics to Sex With Strangers and that was it. I was bit. We formed (what I am beyond pleased to say) a lasting friendship. We have kept in touch over the years, though Marianne lives in Paris, and seeing her after so many years, felt like it was just the other day that we sat alone in a room full of celebrities, un-bothered by our surroundings and speaking from the heart and sharing a moment that would last forever.

Thursday: The first night we went to dinner with Francois, her manager/great friend (the latter portion being what evolved after a long, romantic relationship… but who hasn’t been there) to Morimoto.

Marianne: I am going to be on the CBS Sunday Morning.

Abe: Fantastic. I love that show.

Marianne: I hope they don’t ask me things that will overshadow the new record. Like about The Stones and Kate Moss, you know.

Abe: Just be yourself. People have always loved that about you. It’s part of who you are, honest, irreverent.

Marianne: Really? Oh, I don’t see that.

Abe: You need to spend a few days with me, I’ll remind you who you are.

Marianne: Oh, good.

Somehow the conversation shifts to blow jobs.

Abe: It’s been way too long.

Marianne: Allen Ginsberg tried teaching me how to give a blow job. He said it was like prayer.

Abe: That’s hilarious. Maybe you can talk about that on the Sunday Morning Show. How many people can say that?

Friday: We met again to run errands. Exciting things like cashing checks and buying nail brushes and moisturizer. You know all that very exciting celebrity stuff that everyone imagines is riveting. First we went to lunch at Fig and Olive (also in the Meatpacking District). The waiter came over and graciously or gratuitously went into a long, meaningful rendition of olive oil (the movie).

Waiter: This olive oil comes from the bla bla region of Greece, and the bla bla bla with a nose of flora…

Marianne and Francois are looking at each other avoiding eye contact with the waiter. Marianne holds back a smirk.

Waiter: And finally, this olive oil comes from Italy, and has bla bla bla bla, hint of seasoning. I’ll be right back with your Pellgrino.

Marianne: What was that, that poor dear boy. (Burst into laughter.)

Francois (is his beautiful French accent): Marianne, this is how he makes his 20% tip. In America they have to put on a show.

Abe: It’s sad.

Marianne: I mean, come on. (Snickering) These olives were picked by moonlight in Tuscany at mindight. I thought I was going to laugh in his face.

Somehow the conversation shifts to blow jobs.

Marianne: I hear Carrie gives a mean blow job. I don’t know how I heard that. But I did hear it.

Abe: I am sure Carrie told you.

Marianne: Yes, you’re quite right. She did tell me.

Saturday: We’re due to meet later today for manis and petis and a bit of shopping. Can’t wait. Surely our favorite topic, blow jobs, will come up again.

Marianne’s new album is fantastic and getting great reviews. Check it out. xoxo

http://www.easycomeeasygothealbum.com/english/music.html

Rest In Peace.

It takes the loss of someone we barely know, if at all, to put things in perspective. I am reminded that life is so fleeting, that we are here for such a short time to have our impact, to make our statement, to be a good person, to be generous, kind and considerate. This is what we hear about Natasha.

So for today, I am not going to go on and on about the ills of the financial world, or dish anyone’s upper lip augmentation. I am going to be still and remember that today is all I have. And I will do something that makes me know that I am a person who lives his life making choices that are in the best interest of others as well as myself. My heart goes out to the family members of those loved ones they have lost.

Believe me, I’ll be back with a vengeance, persnickety and annoyed. But it takes a day of reckoning to sit back and consider whether I am being the best I can be. My friend Tim’s dog Cain passed away yesterday as well. Loss of a loved one is a critical moment of change. It washes over you and ultimately re-shapes your destiny.

Bye Bye Cain

I wish all of you that experience loss, God speed.

Mamma & Dadda's Boys

Aww, poor babies. Did it hurt when the SEC yanked the silver spoon out of your ass? Andrew, Mark (and Mommy Dearest, Ruth) are trying to act like innocent bystanders, victims of their own circumstance. I ain’t buyin’ it. These boys are like the thousands, if not millions of spoiled rich kids, who on their own merit could not make a hill of beans out of themselves and resort to working for Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. And then, when that doesn’t pay enough for what they think they are entitled to, they run to Mommy, Mommy, Mommy for chunks of dough to buy houses. Having been raised in an upper middle class suburb, I’ve seen these prissy boys my whole life. My dad died when I was in high school and I’ve been fending for myself ever since…and proud of having graduated the School of Hard Knocks. I learned how to handle my life on life’s terms, to take full responsibility and control of my destiny. Same with my sisters. They are amazing at taking care of their families and relying on better judgment to get them through. What can I say, we is feyess.

Join the club...buy your t-shirt today!

You can’t blame the Madoff boys exclusively for being such big takers. The Boomers tend to be the most codependant, overcompensating, hypocrities and now we have a generation of spoiled brats who need to tug on the apron strings and suckle from the nipple of control-freak parenting. But, like anything else, we all have to grow up and stand on our own two feet. If you’ve been through any kind of therapy, one of the break-through moments is accepting who your parents were and forgiving them. ‘Cause we all accuse our parents for screwing us up. It would be critical for these boys to learn how to detach from parents that (clearly in this Madoff case) used money as a means of controling their kids. Many of us know people like Andrew and Mark, a.k.a. members of the Lucky Sperm Club. We can’t pity them, we can think they are annoying and tsk tsk their situation.

Sidebar: In 1958 Michael Young wrote a  book called “The Rise of Meritocracy”, which was prophetic in that it suggested that the children that come from wealth would create a rise in the new, exclusive social class. In fact, this is what has happened, and having been spoon fed, this new crop of spoiled brats are less cultured, have limited reference and take things at face value…hence we can change the name of that book to “The Rise of Mediocrity”.

And while we are on the subject of Lucky Sperm Club, I thought it would be fun to post a few well-known (well-heeled…or shall we say just HEELS) members to prove my point.

Gross Baboon, Brandon Davis.

Yikes

Brook Astor's son & his fat wife

These two clowns are implying that the AIG payoffs are “no big thing”. The only no big things here are the size of your dicks. ‘Cause surely they have little dicks, which render them entirely useless. Honestly, they are both assholes. I know, spewing toilet humor is so beyond me…but who can listen to these people? And if every media outlet is going to give these guys unprecedented visibility and airtime, well, then here you go…toilet humor plenty.

Gross baboon.

If we are ever to move on (speaking of which, what ever happened to moveon.org), we are going to have to ignore these loud mouth bafoons and let them eat cake. Some dry, old, stale peice of cake.

Andrew Cuomo & Tina Fey

These two are pretty awesome. Attorney General of New York Andrew Cuomo put the pedal to the metal yesterday for those crooks at AIG and as of 4:28PM was issuing subpoenas to those who were planning to ignore the national outcry against the multi-million dollar bonus fest. He is demanding the list of proposed recipients of the dough, their job descriptions at AIG, and copies of their “contracts”. You know, those things are are usually meant to be broken, except in the case of these AIG scumbags…’cause we all know…that the rules don’t apply to those creeps. I mean…what?!? Get your silly asses out of here…$165,000,000 indeed. Oh, and by the way, I have a parcel of land in the Poconos if you’re interested. Bye.

Now onto my heroine. Tina Fey is just fabulous. She’s the smart, new face of comedy and a great role model for women. 30 Rock is hilare and I even liked Baby Mamma. Amy Poehler is fab too, I look forward to seeing her new show “Parks and Recreation”, though it does look like a knock-off of “The Office” with that hand-held, quasi-reality look.

Back to my hero, Andrew. I was a fan of his dad (Mario) when he was Governor of New York and I am sure Andrew will de-thrown that Spitzer replacement, what’s-his-name…oh yeah…Patterson. Yikes,that guy is totally toodles. Andrew, this is your watershed moment. Enjoy it. I am convinced that he never wanted Hilary Rodham Clinton’s job as junior senator of New York. Gee, what would you rather do, be the lead national story for your fierce conviction of dethroning these financial zealots or go to Oswego and speak to area farmers about funding for eco-manure. Who replaced Hilary again?

AIG = Manure

Manure = AIG

Better hope you get a singing Betty Hutton.

Look, far be it from me to tell anyone what to do…but when you think about how many friggen kooks there are strolling the planet, I for one, would surely not want to be an AIG employee caught in the quagmire of some crackpot that’s decided “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!” and go on a friggen rampage at your offices. So, might I suggest that you people cave. Cave, bitch, cave. Don’t take that money and run. Just run. Run for the hills. ‘Cause if you ignore this nationwide outcry…I would surely get no pleasure is saying, “See? I told you so”, when some toothless, unemployed yahoo in army fatigues comes a callin’ with a rifle in one hand and a pistol in the other. Sound far fetched? Well, I hope so for your sake.

As far as I am concerned, this situation is beyond tenable, it’s now borderline scary and you might consider being the ones to help set a new tone in regards to the blessed buck and participate in the new culture that is bubbling under the surface. It’s a culture not solely based on greed, but a hybrid of capitalist with a spiritual edge. That means, you care what others think and if need be, do with a bit less. Wanna sound like Sarah Pailin and call me a socialist or a commie? Be my guest. What I intend to sound like is someone that has your best interest at heart. So listen up, be gratious, back off the $165,000,000,000 bonus packages, hug your family and thank your luck stars that your offices are not in the Midwest…cause you’d be a cooked goose by now.

You know she is guilty as shit in this whole debacle too. According to Ellen Bueno, the manicurist that did his-and-hers manicures for them, she noticed that Ruth handled the money. Let’s face it, she’s Jewish, and no doubt rules with an iron fist. I’m Jewish I can say what I want, unlike “some” bloggers (hint, he’s a fag and not Perez Hilton) who’s deep rooted anti-semitic inclinations are seeping out in his text as a result of the recent conflict in Palestine…but I digress. Between Ruth’s reputation of not being a big tipper in restaurants and the clandestine money transfers prior to his arrest, this women will go down for sure. The bad tipping kharma alone will definitely catch up with her. Have you ever been a waiter? Then you’ll know what I mean. And once the SEC attempts to justify their existance (which I can’t), she will end up with nothing except the residuals of her Jewish Cookbook, which I am sure is not enough to keep her cheeks nice and perky. Ruth, if you get put in the slammer, just think, you could take a job in the kitchen making kugel and brisket for the other inmates. They will love you for it.

Fresh cheeks, in you ask me.

NEWS FLASH: AS OF 9:30AM, FOX NEWS REPORTS THAT RUTH MADOFF IS 67.