Saturday Night Date

Sometimes I will see movies only for the actresses in them. Usually it's Kate Winslet and the film is often very good. Sometimes it's not, like with Debra Messing and her new film, "The Wedding Date." Maybe it's not weird. There are people who see films based solely on directors or writers or other actors/actresses. Maybe I'm just feeling embarassed because I went to see such a film on a Saturday night alone. All that I ask is you don't judge.

Poor little Ward Churchill though. You couldn't fuck up more if you set out to try. He's an embarassment to Americans everywhere, and what's more, he gives the right ammunition to go after academia and judges and college campuses, which they see as the bunkers of leftist resistance. So thanks, Mr. Churchill, for shitting on your country, on the dead, and on the face of the people you claim to stand up for.

But the real outrage this weekend? They cancelled 'Star Trek.' Ben won't have it. I didn't watch it much, at least since Deep Space Nine, but this was just starting to get good.

I found a new blog by fellow writer Crawford Kilian today. I was thinking about character description because I'm reading The Eyre Affair right now and a perfectly good novel grinds to a halt six chapters in when Fforde breaks the cardinal rule: never have your character look in a mirror and describe themselves. I avoid detailed physical description as well, preferring to let the reader fill in most of the blanks.

Took a break from the novel tonight. Debra Messing, remember.

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