January 2002

Samuel Butler Meets Rusty and Andrea Yates

 

“Poor people! They had tried to keep their ignorance of the world from themselves by calling it the pursuit of heavenly things, and then shutting their eyes to anything that might give them trouble.” — Samuel Butler, The Way of All Flesh Related Links Transcript of Andrea Yates’ confession This is very, very sad and hard to forget. You may want to just skip it. Read more →

Ted Demme

 

Director Ted Demme dies while participating in a celebrity basketball game. I can’t think of any plausible reason for attending a celebrity basketball game other than watching some fat cokehead keel over. Kudos, Ted! Read more →

Paul Lynde

 

I’d forgotten how funny this guy was. Here’s a link to Lynde’s best Hollywood Squares one-liners. Samples: PETER MARSHALL: Burt Reynolds is quoted as saying, “Dinah (Shore)’s in top form. I’ve never known anyone to be so completely able to throw herself into a . . . ” A what? PAUL LYNDE: A headboard. PETER MARSHALL: Prometheus was tied to the top of a mountain by the gods because he had given something to man. What did he give us? PAUL LYNDE: I don’t know what you got, but I got a sports shirt. Read more →

Hockey is Fun!

 

Thomas Junta, a 275-pound “hockey dad,” was convicted of manslaughter for beating to death another parent, 156-pound Michael Costin, at a youth scrimmage. The point that Junta was trying to get across to Costin was that Costin’s sons were playing too rough and spoiling a nice, fun game of hockey. Way to go, Dad! Read more →

Disband Man

 

Former Netscape CEO Jim Barksdale is disbanding his venture firm, the Barksdale Group, after two years of operation. Many of the firm’s investments received favorable publicity mentions, none actually made any money, and some are defunct. This guy is the kiss of death . . . Read more →

Julia Phillips

 

Julia Phillips — producer (The Sting, Taxi Driver, Close Encounters of the Third Kind), author ( You’ll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again), cocaine addict — dies of cancer in West Hollywood, Ca. She was 57. Her book, a memoir of life in Tinseltown, made her an icon and a pariah simultaneously. “I wasn’t a pariah because I was a drug-addicted . . . rotten person [but] because I lit them with a harsh fluorescent light and rendered them as contemptible as they truly are.” Read more →