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Weblog Archive: December 25, 2005 to Dec 31, 2005 Wednesday, December 28, 2005
The Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights predictably expressed outrage and called on Comedy Central to ban further showings of the episode. (The president of this alleged civil rights organization recently claimed, "Hollywood is controlled by secular Jews who hate Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular.") South Park offends some group or other nearly every episode, and the network has consistently backed the show's creators against complainants. Until now? Comedy Central has seven episodes of South Park scheduled tonight from 9:30 to 1:00 (EST). Ads have touted this block as a mini-marathon of the show's most recent seven new episodes, from "Two Days Before the Day After Tomorrow" (season 9, episode 8) through "Bloody Mary" (season 9, episode 14). My local TV listings follow this plan. However, the schedule at comedycentral.com shows a 1998 episode airing at 9:30, followed by episodes 8 through 13 of season 9 — with no "Bloody Mary". Has Comedy Central caved to censorship pressure? I can't think of any other reason for "Bloody Mary" not airing tonight. This would be a very sad precedent. FOLLOW-UP: "Bloody Mary" did not air. Bastards. UPDATE: The MSM has picked up the story after the blogosphere broke it. Hell, even the North Koreans are pissed off. I had no idea they got South Park in North Korea. Tuesday, December 27, 2005
The face is alluring (big dark eyes, long lashes, plump lips, caramel skin), but she looks wounded. And there’s something else. At first I can’t quite figure it out, but then it hits me: She looks a little like her uncle, albeit a waify ninety-eight-pound tiny-footed version. Sexy Osama! I hold that thought while I listen to her explain that she’s his half niece and one of hundreds of bin Ladens, most of whom are in Saudi Arabia, where she hasn’t been since she was 10. She has no contact with most of her relatives, including her father, doesn’t speak Arabic, has an American passport. She worries that the Osama connection might hurt her chances of snagging a record deal. On the other hand, that connection is the one catchy angle that sets her apart from the hordes of wannabe starlets in NY and LA. It's a tricky play for fame. More Wafah Dufour photos from GQ. A New York Post profile of Wafah Binladin (before the name change) last March was less flattering. But friends say Wafah is wearing out her welcome with her upscale pals. "She wants to be a pop star, but no record company will have her," said one pal. "At first, we all had sympathy for her and thought she was a nice girl with an unfortunate family connection." But the pal said Wafah's "attitude" is alienating people. "She's this extremely wealthy girl who is used to getting what she wants and having people jump at her every word," the friend said. "She keeps saying, 'Poor me — I have no family because I left to pursue my dream.' She has no family because her uncle is a terrorist," the pal said. "And the way she treats people! Now she is trying to make money by giving French lessons. But if people don't want her French lessons, she'll hang up and scream, 'Bitch!'" Wafah has also been known to scream at "friends" whose connections did not pan out for her: "You are of no use to me!" One pal said, "She called up my [connection] and screamed at them: 'You will meet with me! Now!' They were like, 'No way!' She's a spoiled rich girl, and it's wearing thin." So she's an Arabian Paris Hilton with less talent. Great legs though.
Philosophers are supposed to see the world with clear eyes; with clear philosophical eyes, we can note that Sartre was a troll. He was five feet tall. Neither handsome nor dashing, nearly blind in one eye, and scornful of even the most basic conventions of bourgeois dental hygiene (mossy is a word that comes easily to mind). And yet he got girls like he was in the Beatles. As strange to the American mind as escargot is the French custom of beautiful young woman finding brilliant older men attractive merely for being brilliant—and then sleeping with them! In October 1945 Sartre gave a lecture entitled "Is Existentialism a Humanism?" The answer was no, and the crowd went nuts. A Parisian newspaper described the scene: "A young woman with radiant blue eyes drinks in Sartre's every word. Another collapses in adoration before him: she has just fainted!" . . . Existentialism did not become a humanism, but it did become a way to get girls. If we are truly free and every moment is contingent, why not share your essence with my existence? Helping Sartre pull the strings of his desire was de Beauvoir. Rowley's book highlights various, and in some cases rather vile, machinations of the philosopher king and his philosopher queen with the young entourage at their feet. The tales of their amorous intrigues make disturbing and disappointing reading. No details, alas. If any Daze readers read this book, please send me page numbers of the dirty parts. |
