Rose's Cantina

How brave, George Clooney. To bring attention to himself -- ah, the cause in the Sudan -- Gorgeous George got himself arrested in Washington, D.C. for daring to cross a police line. He brought his dad, who was equally arrested. In another part of America, Jason Russell, the cofounder of Invisible Children who made the viral Kony 2012 video was reportedly detained in San Diego for "being drunk in public and masturbating," This according to NBC San Diego. While these stories are unrelated, there is a theme. A person can use their celebrity status for good. Or evil. George actually risked his life and the crease in his jeans. He could have been hurt. He should have brought his wrestling gal pal Stacey Kiebler, but not our George. He went balls out, figuratively speaking. Jason went cojones out, literally. Don't like my movie, wank, wank.  What gives? Russell's wife is calling bullshit. She says Jason was being framed by the haters on the Int...

Maybe it was the wine, but I had a good time watching the Oscars last night. Not because of the show, which pretty much blew as usual. I found it entertaining because of what E! put in its disclaimer. We're live, so anything can happen. Viewer discretion is advised. Better to be live than dead. The night got off to a good start when Sasha Baron Cohen dressed in character to promote his film, The Dictator , stumbled and dumped an urn of ashes on Ryan Seacrest. The ashes were supposed to be North Korean's Kim Jong -- not the remnants of the last five winners of American Idol . Or Dick Clark for that matter. Then we got to watch Jennifer Lopez accidentally slip a nip. It wasn't much of a slip, as far as I could see but it created quite a buzz on Twitter. I mean the dress didn't leave much to the imagination to begin with. But guys like Michael Douglas need something to live for, right? And the cherry on top was when that that old hasbeen Sean Young got ...

I don't know about you, but I'm already sick of the Oscars. Brad and Angie. George and the girl wrestler. All those stupid movies about Paris. Silent. Black and white. Who the hell cares? Scott and I watched The Tree of Life last night and I found it ridiculous. It was like tuning into a period piece only to be interrupted by the Discovery Channel. And it's been nominated for about a gazillion awards! Just so Brad and Sean Penn could get paid handsomely for what amounts to a couple of lame cameos. Sheesh. I am looking forward to Billy Crystal. Hopefully, he can save this barfest. The whole preoccupation with George Clooney and Brad Pitt puzzles me. Sure, they're okay looking, but they would make any movie made in 3D look 2D, they are so non-dimensional. Some people call these nuanced performances. I say these two guys phone in their performances. The Artist is about to win Best Picture yet it hasn't been able to translate into ticket sales. ...

I was feeling a bit sorry for myself yesterday, peering pitifully at my trusty digital tape recorder, not looking forward to hours of interview transcription. I love being a journalist, really get off on doing interviews with fascinating characters and trying to capture their essence in print. It's what I live for, really. But I do not live to do transcribing. Old school fellars never taped interviews and I resisted technology for ages, but somewhere along the line, my brain got soft and I realized that the digital tape recorder was an invaluable tool to get accurate quotes and, basically, ensure that you don't get sued. It's come in handy on a couple of occasions with very difficult subjects who basically accused me of quoting them out of context or inaccurately. The recorder has saved me. It also made them look like fools. Ah ha! But transcription is a dreary and laborious occupation and I hate it more than doing dishes. Anyway, half-way through the transc...