Well, one good thing to know is that the Tea Party routine is a failure. Getting big money to back candidates to go to D.C. either results in morons being moronic or results in just putting more greedy cats on the greedy gravy train. It doesn't create change; it reaffirms the status quo.
Choire, I love you, buddy, but this is just shit. The failure of the "Tea Party routine" to achieve anything positive is owed entirely to the complete lack of merit (or even coherence) of its ideas and the total divorce from objective reality of its adherents.
Are you really arguing that it's clear that harnessing a grass-roots movement's energy into traditional political channels can't/won't produce progressive change because it didn't work out that way when a bunch of confused, angry old white people banded together and managed to get a handful of politicians elected who were either similarly crazy or just that willing to pander to go down to DC with a mandate to 'take their country back' and 'keep the government's hands off their medicare' and other nonsense that doesn't even make sense as a slogan, let alone a policy platform!?
The Tea Partyiers problem wasn't an inability to effect real change, but the lack of coherent, actionable ideas about what kind of changes they wanted to effect. Imagine a political movement with similar influence instead fighting for a) meaningful regulation of financial trade and b) serious campaign finance reform unapologetically aimed at reducing the ability of moneyed interests to dictate policy. Just imagine it.
I'd wager that the problem isn't so much that screenwriters find it "un-overcomeable" to have men have sex with a woman other than the one they're 'supposed' to end up with in their movies, so much as it is the studio reps - armed with reams of focus group testing data - telling them they have to take those kind of scenes out because the audience will find it un-overcomeable, and the sad, but unavoidable, fact is that they are probably 100% right.
The big change-over seems to be that Hollywood has pretty much entirely ceded the romantic comedy genre to women. It took a while, but at some point they started realizing that women might actually leave their homes without their menfolk and go see movies together. And then when home video became the dominant mode of taking in movies, it became that much easier for the geriatric men who still make most of the decisions to envision a market for rom-coms dominated by the female gaze - well, at least, their conception of it.
Sadly, they calculated, rather correctly, that they have a better shot of getting smart women to 'slum it' with Heigl-fare than they do of getting those women who can go see The Ugly Truth on opening weekend without a hint of embarrassment to go see anything that doesn't perfectly conform to the simple romantic conventions they expect.
It's kind of hilarious how the pink shaded area happens to correspond with where on the map this type of service would be least necessary.
I keep misreading National Duck Out for a Drink Day as "Take a Duck Out for a Drink Day." I think I might be quacking up.
I would argue that the past few summers have all been without real Songs of the Summer in any traditional sense. I mean, shouldn't there be some sort of standard or threshold for universality? It's no secret that the itunes and pandoras and internets -- not to mention the death of MTV as the last arbiter-titan of pop music -- has changed the musical landscape. The pie is just being broken down into too many pieces for any one of them to be as large as they once were.
So at what point do we stop awarding the prize to the largest of the minority candidates, the way in presidential elections, we do at 51%? California Gurls may have been the most popular song of last summer, but did it achieve the level of cultural ubiquity to warrant the capitalization as Song of the Summer? When more people can hum the tune of a song in tween girl's vanity-press music video that people enjoyed making fun of on the internet than any of the "Songs of the Summer" in recent memory, isn't it time to admit that we're not talking about the same type of phenomenon anymore? And aren't all these rhetorical questions getting annoying?
The way I see it, the last true Song of the Summer was Gnarl's Barkley's Crazy, and unless there's a huge sea change in media consumption in the future, it could end up being the last ever.
If you're close to the L train, than, perversely, your best bet ends up being taking the L to the A INTO MANHATTAN to Penn Station, setting you up for an amazingly fast and uncomplicated LIRR-to-Airtain connection to JFK -- ~40 minutes from when you leave Penn Station, including transfer time.
@Tuna Surprise Can't speak for Manhattan, but I served on a Grand Jury in Brooklyn for three weeks, and the NYPD wasn't cut any slack at all by my fellow jurors, all of whom had at some point witnessed first-hand pre-meditated acts of cop sleazitude.
My cat doesn't get the whole "waiting for me to die" part.