Head Of The Class

Mr. Moore (Howard Hesseman) demonstrates that a mullet on a teacher was actually once socially acceptable in the 1980s.

I found a bunch of old Head Of The Class tapes. It's more of a guilty pleasure than anything: the scripts were pretty weak, some of the actors playing students were 30+ years old, and for supposedly smart kids they sure stayed around in high school far too long.  Some of the most cringeworthy aspects to the show were the unironic rat-tail, and later mullet, that Hesseman's character Mr. Moore sported, and I can't suspend my disbelief long enough to buy that high school students (even an honors program) would have the ability to come up with a video for the time capsule that used state-of-the-art-for-1987 computer effects set to the tune of Timbuk 3's "The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades" (an exercise in cheese).

Recurring characters Manfred (John Cameron Mitchell) and Monica (Kirsten Holmquist) performing "White Boys" in a style that presages the singing music teachers from SNL

For a mid-level sitcom shot on tape, though, it was at least decent at least for the first four years.  It did go downhill when Howard Hesseman was replaced by Billy Connolly, mainly because Connolly's character didn't so much teach as go on extended comedic tangents (just imagine if they couldn't find a teacher at a real high school and they just had Craig Ferguson rant for an hour).  I am surprised how many recognizable guest stars I've spotted on the show, though, mainly Elaine Stritch, Stephen Root, Roscoe Lee Browne, Lori Petty (Tank Girl), John Cameron Mitchell (Hedwig and the Angry Inch), Kirsten Kemp Becker (then known as Kirsten Holmquist, Property Ladder), and Brad Pitt (tabloids).  They also had a few interesting episodes based around the cast doing a musical theatre production which actually incorporate the "opening night performances" (based on the episodes' individual writing credits, the shows creators Rich Eustis and Michael Elias had a thing for musical theatre), and were the first American sitcom to shoot in the Soviet Union, giving what was generally a mid-level sitcom added notability.

I doubt the show will be heading to DVD season sets anytime soon because music licensing is a big hurdle, at least for the musical episodes, and there likely isn't a strong enough market for it to justify the cost.  Part of the reason a lot of worse and shorter-lived shows are on DVD is because they can make money back on those (which explains why Small Wonder is actually getting a DVD release).  It wasn't great by any stretch of the imagination but I am having fun watching my old tapes again as I transfer them to disc (and removing countless ads for 1-809 sex lines that used to run late at night on CKY-Winnipeg, but that's better as the subject for another post).

The students included one of Tony Soprano's mistresses (top row centre), the men responsible for the career of Kenan Thompson (top row left), and the victim of Tobias Funke's glitter basket (bottom row centre).

SNL 35.1 Megan Fox / U2 post-mortem.

I thought I'd do something different for my SNL reviews this season; rather than do a sketch by sketch analysis, I thought I'd just to a shorter summation of my impressions of last night's show.

Tonight was the season premiere of the 35-year-old show, which has received renewed notice  thanks in part to Tina Fey's Sarah Palin impression.  Although they didn't quite sustain the momentum from the pre-election shows, last season was the most solidly enjoyable year since Will Ferrell left in 2002.  This, plus the two teaser Weekend Update Thursdays that ran so far this season built up expectations for the season premiere. 

During the summer, news broke about two featured players being fired (the horribly misused Casey Wilson and the solid Michaela Watkins) and being replaced with two new females, Jenny Slate and Nasim Pedrad; as well as speculation that Darrell Hammond and Don Pardo were both gone.  As well, SNL continued with its tradition of booking a not particularly promising host for the season opener by selecting Megan Fox, the bargain basement Angelina Jolie, to kick off the year; they did try to compensate by pairing her up with musical guest U2, whose previous two appearances provided instantly memorable moments such as Bono spontaneously running around the studio and reducing some of the female SNL cast to tears.

The show was particularly weak.  Pardo was back but Hammond was gone.  There was one particularly notable moment (which I'll get to later), but overall the writing wasn't there (aside from Weekend Update).  Megan Fox wasn't absolutely terrible as anticipated (she was at least better than Michael Phelps), but she wasn't another Anne Hathaway: she did not add anything to the sketches she was in and did not really seem to have an innate comic sensibility or even much of a game-for-anything vibe that less funny hosts have been able to coast by on.  The phone chat and Grady Wilson sketches were the biggest laughs of the night (maybe Transformers too, cheap as it was), but the sketches about the airplane and the Russian bride didn't go anywhere, and they found it necessary to dilute an otherwise strong WU with an appearance by Kenan Thompson's awful Jean K. Jean character: it wasn't funny the first time and it wasn't funny the 43 times they've done it in the following 18 months.   Even U2 was somewhat underwhelming: aside from a big video screen and Bono swinging a bit on his microphone for "Ultraviolet" (a song almost 20 years old) during the goodnights, it was a pretty laconic performance.

I've learned long ago that the season premiere of SNL is usually not one of the stronger shows of the season.  What this show is going to be remembered for, though, is the mistake that happened at about 12:40 am in the otherwise unmemorable Biker Chick Chat, a showcase for new featured player Jenny Slate.  The main gimmick of the sketch was the constant use of the euphemism "frickin'", but when a script repeatedly uses a word clearly intended to take the place of another you can't say on network TV, and combine it with someone new to live network television, something's bound to happen.  And that's precisely what happened.

This is not the first time an f-bomb was dropped on SNL, as three cast members and a number of musical guests already broke that taboo long before.  It was also a clear accident and not premeditated.  What makes this notable, though, is that this is Slate's first SNL, and despite appearing a few times last night, Biker Chick Chat was her first speaking role, let alone first sketch where she played the lead.  There is speculation on the internet about whether this spells the end of her SNL tenure (if fired immediately, she would be tied with Laurie Metcalf and Emily Prager for shortest SNL stint), but if the self-appointed guardians of morality cause a huge outcry over the accidental use of a four letter word that has been said on network TV before, and after midnight to boot, they really need to get over themselves. 

I'd be more concerned that Lady Gaga will try to outdo Slate on the October 3 show by changing every other word in her song to the c-word and then mark the 17th anniversary of the Sinead O'Connor incident by shaving her head and tearing up pictures of multiple popes.

SNL: Live vs. Rerun

There are a number of reasons why I'm a SNL fan, including an appreciation for sketch comedy in general as well as the massive cultural impact the show has had over the past 35 years.  It can be hit or miss, and some seasons are definitely more 'miss' than 'hit', but when the show is running at its peak in terms of cast, writing, and cultural relevance, it's really something.

One thing about the show that fascinates me is that a rerun of a show that plays either on the network or on cable may not necessarily be the same thing that aired from 11:30 pm to 1:00 am ET the night of the original show.   When I was building up my collection I noticed that the sketch rundowns of the shows I taped off the Comedy Network didn't quite match the order listed on the episode guide; sketches would often be shuffled around and, on occasion, something would be dropped in favour of either a sketch from another show or material that never made it to a live broadcast.   On these shows you could see a disclaimer run at the very beginning:

Most of the reruns I taped were pretty representative of the original show that aired, but when it turned out there was a big omission in the rerun, it could get pretty annoying.  There are still a few holes in my collection that I haven't been able to fill just because rerun versions of SNL are so much easier to come by than original airings: by default, any episode aired after the live air date is the rerun version unless none exists (usually the weak and controversial shows would fall into this category).  

Older reruns sometimes substituted bits for segments from other shows: a lot of material added to a rerun also appeared in a show without the rerun disclaimer; if a show without a disclaimer turned up in the rerun package, it usually meant the show was not repeated on NBC.  Later reruns were a little more unusual in that the content that replaced what was cut didn't seem to be from any other episode.  Sometimes it would be a live sketch done in the studio with the same host and cast, sometimes it would be a short film or commercial.  One of these bits was actually the Roberto Benigni segment of Jim Jarmusch's "Coffee and Cigarettes".

The reruns from the last 25 years or so (from the point where Lorne Michaels returned to the show after his five-year hiatus) have some more subtle changes.   Fans with sharper eyes and ears than mine had mentioned in various places online how the reruns sometimes replaced sketches from the live shows with performances from dress rehearsal.  The differences were usually very minor, not really noticeable unless you made a point to look for them or if they made the change to remove something offensive.  I did notice, though, the clock on the main stage with no other purpose but to show the time in the studio would sometimes visibly show it was a point earlier during the evening during monologues and musical guest introductions. 

From what I guess, the strategy is to make the best possible rerun: if something went better in dress, then that's what they'll use.  As well, because a new episode of SNL is live, it's more prone to technical screw-ups, miscues, and awkward "dead seconds"; reruns give a chance to fix some of that.  The audio is also remixed a bit for the rerun, which often includes a faint bit of 'sweetening' to the audience response (just a few extra laughs mixed in).

I'd heard of all these things from different sources and noticed a few things here and there when I watched reruns of shows I'd seen when they aired live, but it didn't come together until the night I finally saw a recording of the live broadcast of the first show of 1985-86 hosted by Madonna.   This episode is probably the most extensively edited SNL rerun; the most well-known change being that reruns remove the cold opening about Brandon Tartikoff getting urine samples from the cast for drug testing, giving the impression that the show just went straight into the opening montage.  Other changes include a second Simple Minds musical performance added to the later part of the show, the replacement of the original Sarah Charlesworth "collage" opening montage with the filmed "limo ride" used from the fifth show of the season on (as well as all bumpers to keep consistent), dead seconds removed, hot mics were fixed, the Weekend Update title card was changed to the one used for the rest of the season, and Don Pardo's line "Two Junkies be located..." in a commercial parody was removed (probably for the same reason the drug testing had to be taken out).

The thing about that live show that really brought everything together for me was the opening seconds of the Weekend Update segment: usually, when the bit starts and Pardo announces "Weekend Update with Dennis Miller", the audience cheers and applauds.  On this first show there is no response whatsoever.  Miller actually sarcastically quips, "Thank you, Don Pardo, for whipping them up into a frenzy".  I didn't remember the audience being dead when I saw the episode before so I checked my recording from Classic SNL, and sure enough, there were cheers and applause (and Miller's comment was left in, dethorned by the editing).   It became clear to me how much of a do-over the rerun really is. 

What's better?  The rerun version seems to be the final product judging by how prevalent these are in SNL packages and how much is done to ensure these are the strongest product.  But part of the show's title is that it's live: it's still live in a sense that the sketches were performed in front of a studio audience, but a lot of what's done to the rerun is essentially cheating.  Part of the appeal of watching the live broadcast is that anything can happen.  Something may not go right.  Actors may break character.  Somebody might drop a "shit" or "fuck" or tear up a picture of the Pope.  You lose the unexpected aspect with a rerun anyway, but the extra editing only takes it further away from being "live".

Celebrity Hungry Hungry Hippos: A Review

This was originally posted on an SNL message board: I had originally written this as a potential sketch but got bored when actually coming up with dialogue.  I actually think this works better in a review form.  

Just in case there's any confusion, this is not a real show.  This does not have the endorsement of any of the actors depicted herein nor that of the FOX television network.  Furthermore, I don't think they would allow the suggestion at the end to be published.

The reality TV phenomenon has rightly been blasted for lowering the bar of what is considered entertainment, and it was only a matter of time before it reached yet another nadir. Such new depths were plunged Wednesday night with the premiere of what appeared to be the result of letting a mentally incompetent 6-year-old choose the next cheap unscripted show, FOX’s monstrosity Celebrity Hungry Hungry Hippos.

I’ll admit there was a glimmer of hope that this would not be as painful as what the networks have been subjecting us to lately; unlike many other pointless celebrity competitions, this show’s pool of celebrities are not the same overexposed has-beens who populate every other reality show. In fact, much of the reality genre’s target audience would have a hard time placing the four contestants from the premiere episode, most of them long retired from acting: Jan Smithers (Bailey Quarters, WKRP), Sagan Lewis (Dr. Jacqueline Wade, St. Elsewhere), Frank Cady (Sam Drucker, Green Acres), and the then-young man with the blonde hair who was a frequent extra in The Mary Tyler Moore Show, whose name the producers of CHHH didn’t even bother to give. Although it was welcome to see some long absent faces again, I have a feeling this celebrity lineup was chosen due to a combination of an inability to draw bigger names, called favours, blackmail, bribery, and even kidnapping.

Only the 93-year-old Cady seemed like he genuinely wanted to play, as when introducing himself he remarked that even though he’s worked with Alfred Hitchcock and has costarred in a beloved TV show, his real life’s ambition was to “whoop some behind at Hungry Hungry Hippos”. It was less clear why Smithers and Lewis were playing. Lewis appeared confused and disoriented throughout, at various points denying her resemblance to one of the characters on House and stating that it was her understanding that the contestants would be playing with real hippos. Smithers was for the most part diplomatic, although several times in the show it was apparent she was not too happy with appearing on the show. This became apparent after the host made some insensitive comments regarding her being “the one that wasn’t Loni Anderson” on her old show, and ignorantly asking about her “brother” Waylon. The extra, apparently appearing under duress, made several unsuccessful escape attempts throughout the game.

It would have helped if they found a charming and affable host. Unfortunately, the best the producers could come up with was Dave Coulier. Smithers was the most visibly annoyed at the former “Full House” co-star, at one point threatening him “Watch it, Stamos.” In what had to be the most uncomfortable moment in an entire show of them, Coulier admitted that he wished he was John Stamos, followed by almost 30 seconds of silent staring between all parties. Making matters worse, Coulier evidently had not been briefed on the rules of the game and after the fifth fallacy regarding gameplay, had to be screamed at by an off-camera voice.

There were myriad other problems with the production. The show was apparently shot with a nonexistent budget on either a poorly lit set or an unfurnished basement (investigations into the matter were inconclusive), with the actual board game resting on a card table with its short leg propped up by a book. In the most egregious example of a lack of planning on their part, the network did not bother to ensure that the game had all the marbles. As the contestants were notified of the situation, Cady tried to keep order but Smithers wasted no time in socking Lewis in the jaw, and the extra tried to use the distraction to make a break for it. Whether or not this incident was staged to create conflict is up for debate, but I doubt the producers would have had the talent to properly stage something.

All the ineptitude of the production aside, the gameplay itself was rather dull due to the obvious nature of the strategy, eating the most marbles. If not for the revelation that Cady was cheating at the game (at one point hiding his opponents marbles in his mouth), and Lewis continually consoling her plastic hippo (dubbed “Freckles”) it would have been an otherwise uneventful game; clearly not something with a lot of inherent drama. However, the show continued to invent new levels of awfulness, particularly in the awarding of the game prizes: the main prize (ostensibly to be donated to charity) was a gift certificate for McDonald's, while the runner up received the book propping the game table’s leg up; adding insult to injury, this book was Coulier’s unpublished memoir Cut It Out. By this point in the game, Coulier had used his catchphrase so many times Smithers threatened to cut him if he didn’t stop saying it. Even after the threat, Coulier could not resist.

At this point the show descended into chaos: Smithers hit Coulier with the book while Lewis grabbed the hippo from the board and attacked him, screaming “Get ‘im Freckles!” The extra managed to escape, and in the midst of what was happening around him, Cady began shoveling marbles into his pockets. At this point the videotape mercifully cuts out.

Surprisingly, considering the issues regarding the hippo and the table leg, several other episodes have been taped, although I don’t know what FOX would be trying to prove by airing them besides its utter contempt for people with any of the five senses.

If anyone is given the choice of watching this show or shoving their face into a moving propeller, I would suggest they think hard for a minute, then run face first into the blades. It’s a sacrifice I believe the sane would make, as they wouldn't have the lingering memory of having watched this show.

On Michael Jackson

I'd like to add my voice to the din reacting to the death of Michael Jackson.  I don't get CNN at home but I did manage to catch a few minutes of the incessant coverage.  I have a feeling they will be covering a sensationalistic event like this nonstop, while in the "other news we don't give a shit about" ticker, we'll see something about bin Laden's body or the cure for AIDS being found.   It's just a fact of life in today's world.

Farrah Fawcett died the same day, but her impending death had been something that was obvious and expected.  Whatever state Jackson was in the past few years, the story came suddenly and out of the blue.  The resulting outpour of grief has been compared to what happened with Elvis Presley and John Lennon.  Lennon was a much more brutal loss considering the sheer awfulness of the circumstances, but Elvis, like Jackson, was this larger than life figure whose biggest successes were behind him and in later years was a mess, a clear shadow of his youthful self until his body gave out on a random hot muggy day.  Others have noted the eerie parallels between the two Kings: I wonder if there's going to be a cottage industry of Michael Jackson impersonators and alleged sightings.

A lot of the discussion of Michael Jackson has to include his bizarre behavior in the second half of his life, particularly the accusations of child molestation.  If he did actually do what a lot of people say he did, there is no excuse.  I'll have to admit that the two similar scandals ten years apart doesn't really work out in his favour, but I can't ultimately judge Michael Jackson in the same light as someone like Gary Glitter.  There was a bit of a naivite to Michael Jackson: he didn't really seem to fully comprehend how some of his actions looked to society.  He was pitiful at times.  There were a lot of things in his life that would have contributed to the collapse of his mental state.  In a way the Michael Jackson of Off The Wall and Thriller had already died around 1984.  Not that his later scandals have completely eclipsed his early triumphs, though: I doubt OJ Simpson is going to get the same reaction if he were suddenly to drop dead.

That said, the first thing I thought of when I heard the news was "I wonder what kind of hilariously inappropriate joke Andrew's going to come up with".  After David Carradine was found dead, my friend posted that he never knew David Carradine was an INXS/Michael Hutchence fan.  I've heard some good ones in the last few days, mainly focusing on his penchant for being surrounded by young boys.  I was then reminded of all the other jokes about him over the past 16 years and whether we can watch them in the same light again, knowing the conclusion to the story.  Stuff like Norm MacDonald's "Michael Jackson may be a child molester, but he's no song stealer" bit, or the many Clutch Cargo bits on Conan. 

I don't own any Michael Jackson music.  Yet for all his eccentricity, his massive, massive contributions to entertainment can't be ignored.  He was the biggest thing going in the eighties and so many people are familiar with the songs, the videos, the moonwalk, that his death has created a void.  That the 25th anniversary edition of an album most everyone had already, by someone who was written off as a wacko at best, sexual predator at worst, still ended up being the best selling catalog album of 2008 speaks volumes.  The music industry is so fractured now that someone being as big a figure as Michael Jackson in terms of talent and popularity is just not going to happen.  That Jackson died so suddenly only sealed his legend.

When other legendary music figures die, will the reaction be as huge as with Michael Jackson?  There are still people with greater contributions to the world of music, and there are still big stars, but the chances of a big jolt like this grow smaller as they grow older.  A friend of mine believes that whenever Bob Dylan passes, though his contribution to culture was incalculable  it will be almost anti-climactic because he has become myth ages ago.  But like Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson's notoriety was so far-reaching and ubiquitous, transcendent of a lot of barriers.  The music industry has changed so much that a universal figure like that isn't possible anymore. 

In the end, though, it's just another dead famous person, and despite the media coverage indicating otherwise, there are other things in the world to do.  There are other easy targets for jokes, and there is music I prefer listening to over his anyway.

Underrated Song Corner: "Build Me A Bridge"

I decided there had been too much emphasis on TV on this blog so I'm going to try to fix that by doing some music-related posts here and there.  One of the things I want to do is make posts about songs that I feel should get a little more recognition, so I'm going to start things off with a 1983 track by Adele Bertei, who has had a very interesting career not only in music but as a writer and filmmaker.  She was a player in the No Wave scene about 30 years ago with the Contortions and the Bloods.  Her lengthy and varied career in the music industry includes only one sole full album to her name as a solo artist but she appears on a number of singles as a vocalist, and collaborated with Anubian Lights a few years ago.   For more information about her long and varied career, check out this interview she did a few years back with Gene Gregorits.

"Build Me A Bridge" was produced by Thomas Dolby ("She Blinded Me With Science"); Bertei would sing backup on his "The Flat Earth" the next year.  This is from around the time that she appeared in the cult film Born In Flames.  There is a lot of synth in there, of course, but I find that stuff from around this time has this really solid sound to it, particularly in the bottom end.    Bertei's vocal performance is the real standout.

On music stores

Back when I lived in Winnipeg, I used to enjoy browsing the racks at the HMV in Kildonan Place. This was before I had completely developed my musical taste but it was the time when my family finally had a CD player, and I no longer had to make do with the limited selection of music available on cassette. I used to be in awe at the different albums that were available and remember seeing countless copies of Van Morrison's "Astral Weeks" and Tom Waits' "Closing Time" in the racks, the shrink wrap covered with the red WEA "super saver" logo. I also remember prominent displays of jazz CDs in the aisles: Miles' "Sketches of Spain" and "Kind of Blue" (both recently remastered), Ornette Coleman's "Free Jazz"...this made an impression on me.

I moved to New Brunswick in 1999; the first HMVs in the province opened in 2005. I was aware the store had made a few changes in the interim thanks to a few trips to the Halifax stores, and the new mall stores not only were cramped and had annoying music piped in through the PA system, but their jazz, indie and catalog selection left a lot to be desired. Even so, I was still impressed that I could find $7.99 copies of "Giant Steps" by John Coltrane and the Gram Parsons twofer. They also had a decent selection of music that was under the 2/30, 2/25 and 3/30 promotion; the 2-CD "The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads" only set me back $15. Sure, I'd often leave the store with a vaguely dissatisfied feeling, and their "blacklists" of certain artists was just petty, but New Brunswick doesn't have great music retail anyway, so another store was welcome.

Unfortunately, the entire music retail sector is on a downswing. CD Plus, the store in the mall that inexplicably filed all their music by the artists' first name, closed shortly after. Music World went out of business. Big box stores with music sections are reducing shelf space to the bare minimum, and there are towns and small cities that used to have decent music stores but now don't even have anywhere to buy CDs aside from Wal-Mart or Zellers. 

What's even worse is that in the past three and a half years, HMV has reduced shelf space to make room for more DVDs, video games and books. I still go there just to see if they have something I want on for cheap (and I admit sometimes more often than not they do), but I know I'm not going to find any Miles Davis albums aside from the cardboard pack version of "Kind of Blue" and "The Essential Miles Davis". Most of Dylan's back catalog is absent save for compilations, "Blonde on Blonde" and "Highway 61 Revisited", and while I can still find indie/alternative stuff, it's usually the newest release and the more well-known artists. 

There are a handful of good stores in Moncton: Frank's Music in particular. It used to be the Sam The Record Man location in the mall until the chain went bankrupt, then soldiered on under a new name before moving out by the power center. The prices are quite often higher than what you'd pay everywhere else but it's the only place in town that still has the classical and jazz in it's own room, there's a rack of new local and independent stuff, and the staff is actually quite knowledgeable and helpful. On more than one occasion, I've seen the face of the guy behind the counter light up when he saw what I was ringing out with. As well, there's a pretty good used place downtown where I've scored countless finds.

I accept that the rule is that stores have to be able to make money to survive, and these measures are just to keep the expenses down and sales high. But every time I see good stuff no longer available so they can clear two whole columns of space for the new Nickelback CD, I die a little. More and more independent stores are closing down for good, and the only way to find a lot of this stuff is to download it or buy it online with a credit card. It's like if you don't like what the "unwashed masses" like, you don't exist.

I wonder how different my tastes would have been if the stores I had browsed in my younger days didn't have all that different music displayed prominently; while the Internet has made it easier for people to find good music that hasn't caught on with the public (for the record, this is how I got into a lot of indie music), fact of the matter is that having the music visible and convenient for people to discover does make a bit of difference. Jyn Radakovits talks about this in her rant about music retail: with the internet, you have to dig deeper; the good stores put this stuff in the light.

The landscape is changing, whether I like it or not. To me it feels a lot less like a natural change than something like the forests in New Brunswick being cut down and then replenished with homogenous acres of pines with the Irving logo up front.

On Natasha Richardson

I can't say I really followed of Ms. Richardson's career. I don't even think I've willingly seen any movie with her in it (I might have seen a few moments of my family's video copy of The Parent Trap). She was always one of those actresses that I was more familiar with by reputation than anything I've actually seen her in; just another blonde Englishwoman who happens to act. Sure, she was Vanessa Redgrave's daughter and Liam Neeson's wife but even that seemed secondary. Yes, her death this week was a tragedy. That goes without saying; 45 is still young, and for it to happen the way it did, just coming out of nowhere, makes it all the more sad. 

What I'm more upset about is the way the media handled themselves; it was to be expected considering the vultures they were with Terri Schiavo and Pope John Paul II four years ago but when the New York Post and Fox News were posting rumours as fact before the family had a chance to make their statement, that was a new low. I realize with all the pressure to get the story first (especially in a world where the internet allows information to get out like that) these things do happen, and those sources are not particularly esteemed for dedication to the truth anyway, but come on! The family obviously was keeping quiet for a reason. Some articles made sure to qualify that there was no official word on the prognosis and kept their headlines accordingly ambiguous, but putting "BRAIN DEAD" as a headline is just irresponsible at best, and sickening in what it reveals.

What it looks like to me is that these news agencies and gossip columns were actually rooting for her death. Perez Hilton, in his ever so responsible way, made one post with the title "It's looking grim!" like he was creaming himself with anticipation of a great story (and he had already prematurely posted that she had died at that point, to boot). Death does get more people to pay attention, I'll give them that. But where is the line between the hot scoop and the actual pain and suffering involved? The way the story was handled, everyone was rushing for the boasting rights to be first to say that Liam Neeson is widowed and a number of family members are grieving. It's definitely some perverse schadenfreude operating here.

What I'm saying is not a new idea in the least. I just wonder how far it will go.

It's Official

No matter what gender or orientation they are, most people think Bailey was the hotter of the two female WKRP characters, not Jennifer.