Last year, when the hype began for a movie called The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, I was stoked. And mortified. On the one hand, it was great that someone finally made a quality biopic about the one and only Lord of the Ring, Hulk Hogan, and his fellowship of leotard clad brutes, the WWE. On the other hand, hype like that mortifies me. In Hollywood, hype = franchise, and franchise = crap. So I let it pass. Despite being a devout Hulkamaniac, I never saw the film.

Hey, kids, it's December. And you all know what that means: it's time for another installment of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Rings director Peter Jackson is the genius behind such great flicks as The Frighteners, Bad Taste, Dead Alive, and Heavenly Creatures. I have so much confidence in Jackson, that I'm not even going to bother to see this movie before I review it. Jackson has talent and vision unlike so many other talentless hacks out there (or as I like to call them, “George Lucas”).

INTERESTED IN WINNING A COPY OF THE GUNS, GOD AND GOVERNMENT DVD, AUTOGRAPHED BY MARILYN MANSON? YOU ARE? I THOUGHT SO. WELL, HOP ON OVER TO OUR CONTEST SECTION (LABELED "WIN FREE SHIT"), AND ENTER TO WIN! ISN'T THAT HOT? AREN'T WE NICE?

I remember the first time I saw footage of Muhammad Ali fight. He wasn’t boxing. Boxing was him. He owned it-- the sport and the ring. Left hook, right hook, then dancing-- like the ground below wasn’t good enough for his feet. He wasn’t fighting. He was painting, like Picasso, or playing, like Jimi-- with uninhibited freedom, and heart.

Usually when I do a review of any kind, I try and offer up good points with the bad points. In all honesty, reviews are bullshit and all critics are fucking hacks. Who in the hell am I to say what is good or what is bad? What you should or shouldn’t buy? I am only one man with one opinion. And I can’t even make music. I could not create what the kids of TRUSTcompany have done with their debut disc, The Lonely Position of Neutral (Geffen). I can’t play one instrument. I only sing to myself,.. and poorly, I might add. I have no right to critique anything about this album.

I'm not much of a Beatles fan. I mean, I am now. Kind of. I dig the weird shit they did with Sgt. Pepper. That was a good Beatles' album. But the ones where they just rattle out some basic '60s R & B love ballad don't rock me so much. Those were their early years. Ben Kweller? These are his early years, captured on his full-length debut, Sha Sha. Sort of. I mean, this kid's young, but he's been around. He's 20-years-old. He's been in a band that released an LP and an EP. They broke up, so he chose to pursue the solo route.

He imagined himself the star of his very own film. He thought of this morning's walk to school as the big opening sequence where credits flashed across the screen announcing him as the star. He sees himself as Ferris Bueller, Judd Nelson from The Breakfast Club, and Stifler, all rolled into one. This day of school would become the stuff of legend. Something was in the air. Something amazing was going to happen today.


EXTERIOR: WIDE SHOT - JIMMY'S PARENTS HOUSE - EARLY MORNING

That's right. You heard me. I've got mono, and I'll lick your glass. Oh yeah, you think that's funny? Keep laughin' and I'll spit in your eye. I've got mono and I'm all pissed off. I already licked your mom's glass. Mono is the worst thing in the world. Worse even than that time that your dad got me all drunk on Mad Dog 20/20 and put his finger in my butt. Mono makes me really tired; even more tired than I am after I stay up all night playing Dungeons and Dragons on the Internet with your dad.

She opened the door, glancing at her watch as she tossed her backpack hastily onto the couch. It was 3:40; she had a little over a half-hour before she had to leave again. Her class had run a little late, and she'd gotten stopped at the light coming out of the parking lot, so she was a bit behind schedule. Factoring in time for changing clothes and finding something to eat, she estimated that she had about 15 minutes of free time.

When Charlie walks to the liquor store it's with long strides, and slow. His reflection dances from shop windows.
Many people hustle past him, not knowing who he is, which is okay with Charlie. He doesn't know who they are either.
When he gets to a corner he doesn't wait for traffic or look both ways; he just crosses. Car horns mingle with shouts and slamming brakes. Charlie grins and continues walking. He knows his stride is bulletproof.
He knows other things, too.
He knows that good people he's never met are very hungry, and that it's not his fault.