It’s hard to top Dave Barry, especially when he throws in items like this one:
OCTOBER: … the Boston Red Sox, ending an 86-year drought, defeat the St. Louis Cardinals to win the World Series, defying exit polls that had overwhelmingly picked the Green Bay Packers. The Red Sox get into the Series thanks to the fact that the New York Yankees — who were leading the American League championships three games to none, and have all-stars at every position, not to mention a payroll larger than the gross national product of Sweden — chose that particular time to execute the most spectacular choke in all of sports history, an unbelievable Gag-o-Rama, a noxious nosedive, a pathetic gut-check failure of such epic dimensions that every thinking human outside of the New York Metropolitan area experienced a near-orgasmic level of happiness. But there is no need to rub it in.
Nope, none at all. The worst choke in all of human history really speaks for itself. (Via JoyofSox, the only blog that offers both Red Sox coverage and far-out left wing conspiracy theories in one convenient package.)
THE YEAR IN REVIEW (IN TV): Look, I watched Entourage. I even kinda liked Entourage. But Alessandra Stanley, do you really, really think that Entourage was the best television show of the year? I mean, for serious?
THE YEAR IN REVIEW (IN MOVIES): I don’t mean this as a commentary on the artistic quality of any of the movies in question (though I liked Sideways less then most people), and I’m on the record as saying conservatives need to have less of a chip on their shoulder about Hollywood, and no, I don’t expect art to be the handmaiden of conservative social mores or anything . . . but, well, check out Stephen Holden’s top ten movies of the year.
Let’s see: You’ve got a movie about a cross-dressing victim of a pedophile priest (is there any other kind?); a film about a female drug mule whose title and ad campaign trade cynically in Catholic language and imagery; the tale of “a selfless abortionist” (is there any other kind?); the “sober, sympathetic” account of Alfred Kinsey’s struggle to bring sexual enlightenment to the masses; and the “fearless, taboo-breaking” story of a grandmother who has an affair with her daughter’s fiancee.
Admirable films all, no doubt. But I have just one question — what, Mr. Holden, no Motorcycle Diaries? (Wasn’t political enough for him, I bet.)
ALTHOUGH: Honesty compels me to mention that I rather liked The Motorcycle Diaries.
FINALLY: Kate Bosworth is a peach. And I won’t hear a word against her.