Celebrity Blogging

First off, my apologies for the lack of recent posts. I've spent the bulk of the past week trying to arrange a return visit to the Cannes Film Festival. Unfortunately, I have outstanding debts at most of the local cheese shops so this was not possible. Don't feel too bad; I'm not the only American who's the victim of fairweather French. I understand the only way Michael Moore could get in this year was by posing as Roger Ebert's decoy. Tell est vie. At least we're both on a diet.

Another consolation: star-packed film festivals near nude beaches on the South of France no longer represent the vanguard of the entertainment industry. Blogging is where it's at. Yes, you no longer have to work maintenance at a rehab clinic to read the daily thoughts of prominent entertainers. Among those following the blog-path blazed by true pioneers like myself and David Berkowitz are Tom Green, Ru Paul, and everyone's favorite comic gender-bender, Dave Barry. The trend is sure to continue as the Internet grows and more big names get placed under house arrest.

Now celebrities sounding off, diary-style, is really nothing new. You could say the blogging form itself began with the liner notes to Frank Sinatra's 1956 All Alone And Feelin' Reflective LP ("Time: 1:43 am. Activity: Eating bacon and eggs off a whore's ***. Soundtrack: The Nelson Riddle Orchestra. Mood: Top O' The World"). And of course, the late Hogan's Heroes star Bob Crane was the world's first video blogger:



Contemporary celeblogs range from cheap device for movie promotion to cry for help. Here's a sample of Rosie O'Donnell's blog:

oprah is a hybrid human
i am sure
decades from now
they will exhumne her remains
and find the dna
of the rest of us
in the future
evolved

Pretty chilling, isn't it? It's as if Anne Frank's basement had broadband.

Then there was last week's debut of The Huffington Post. Following her success as failed gubernatorial candidate's wife and failed gubernatorial candidate, Arianna Huffington has created a blog consisting entirely of posts from her famous friends. What a great idea. There are just so few venues for the already well-known to express an opinion. Finally the blogosphere is opening up to people whose only prior outlets were TV, movies, radio and major publications. Viva Democracy!

I hope I don't sound bitter. I'm not resentful of the Hollywood glitterati poaching on my turf. I know that when this whole blogging craze dies down, they'll go back to their wealth, fame and adoring public, and I'll still have a body of work I can be proud of, assuming I delete two-thirds of my archives.

Up Next: White House Demands Newsweek Retract Down Arrow



Lomblog, brought to you by Praxil© Anti-Depressant Medication and Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, now playing

Advertising Acceptance

As much as we evoke the effortless spontaneity of children at play, the actual production of this site is both expensive and time-consuming. My travel budget alone would break the back of Jeff Gannon's wealthiest john. We also lack prominent financial backers, unlike so many other blogs that rely on the helping hands of media conglomerates, wealthy political allies and parents who still speak to them. All we have is you - and that's not enough.

That's why Lomblog has reluctantly agreed to accept regular advertising:



Don't worry: these ads will be as inconspicuous as possible, appearing only at the top and/or bottom of every post. They will not affect the content of the blog, only the way it appears on your screen. Nor will there be any toning-down of our anti-establishment edge. If you know anything about me, you're aware I can't resist biting the hand that feeds me, especially if that hand contains a tasty morsel of wholesome goodness manufactured by Nabisco®.

So the sponsorship will cause no conflict; my work will continue to be published unexpurgated and unverified. And without the pressure of trying to round up cash every week, I'll be able to focus on all the big stories of the coming months: the close of the Cannes Film Festival, the Michael Jackson trial, the Tom DeLay controversy, and last but not least, the opening of the final Star Wars film.

Granted, I'm not a big fan of the series as a whole, but this is a major event. Call me a nerd if you must, but I'll be in line first thing Thursday morning with a creamy BLT and a heart beating extra fast from anticipation. Maybe some of you will join me.



Lomblog, brought to you by Mellman's All Natural® Mayonnaise and Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, opening May 19th

Up Next...



Preview CBS's two-part drama about a simple gal from Tennessee who overcame her modest talents to become a minor recording artist

And for the rest of you, don't miss the following soon-to-be-posted items:

"Exactly Where Are They Now?: Global Positioning Device Tracks Your Favorite '80s Rock Stars"

"Oh Baby, Baby: UPN Signs Spears Fetus For Eight Part Reality Series"

"Study: Bush Hatred Directly Proportional To Bush Knowledge"

"America's Least-Read Blogs, Volume 1: Diary Of A Midwestern Proctologist & Obsessive Quantum Leap Fan"

Don't miss the excitement...

Lomblog: We're Just So Into You!

A Personal Note

As you know, Lomblog often highlights the foibles of the famous and powerful. Largely this is the natural outsider iconoclasm that makes me a hero to so much of Y Gen. It's also the simple fact that aside from Tommy Lee and Kim Jung Il, very few of these subjects were personal friends. Not until now have I faced the difficulty of writing about a close pal's very public crisis.



Yes, many have had a field day mocking the explicit voice mails of Insider host Pat O'Brien, formerly of Access: Hollywood. I've stayed mum, not just because I've had my own inappropriate brush-up with infamy, but because Pat is one of my oldest and dearest H-wood friends. Truly, at every difficult point in my LA existence, he's extended a helping hand and words of encouragement. Whether it was the breakup of my first marriage, the breakup of my second marriage, or my various stints in rehab, Pat was always the first one there to put an arm on my shoulder, lean in and say, "Hire a hooker, get crazy, get some coke". It was so reassuring to hear in those familiar nasal cadences that have made him America's #1 conduit of news and information absolutely no one needs. And he did it all without asking for anything in return, besides friendship and ten minutes alone with my girlfriend.

That's the kind of man Pat-O is: not an infotainer but an infogiver. Or something like that.

In addition, Pat has always been the consummate professional. No matter how mind-blown on coke, he always had it together enough to march into a studio, stand alongside the likes of Nancy O'Dell and deliver the news that "Vin Diesel is packing them in Fast And Furious at the box office" or "Tom Cruise proved this weekend that beating him at the box office is a Mission: Impossible." There hasn't been journalistic commitment like that since Walter Cronkite covered the Kennedy assassination while wiped out on ether. And while I would never endorse drug use as a creative stimulus, I certainly preferred the harder, edgier O'Brien Access to the saccharine, commercialized version hosted by Billy Bush.

That's why I'll be there to help Pat in any way I can, provided it isn't over the phone. And I encourage the rest of you to approach him with a forgiveness born of fellowship, understanding and just a smidgen "There but for the grace of DELETE go I." Remember, all of us are just one drunken escapade away from facing the ultimate punishment: an hour with Dr. Phil.

Coming: Al Queda Fugitive Captured In New Mexico



The story of Jenn'afar wil-Banqs - a terrorist who sought to break the heart of the infidel

Pyong-Yukks

From time to time, Lomblog presents reports from overseas correspondents. This week's edition of Lomblog International is excerpted from the foreign policy/Eighties hair-metal newsletter, The Gunnar-Nelson Report. The author writes to us from the North Korean capital where the activities of Kim Jung Il's government continue to arouse suspicion.

Greetings from Pyongyang,

You may have read that North Korea is again conducting nuclear tests. But what really has the capital city buzzing is a speech by the country's First, Second or Third Lady - no one is quite sure - Kora Il-Jung. Virtually all members of the state-sponsored press agree she tickled more ribs than an electric truncheon.



The following transcript from this year's NK Correspondents Dinner & Loyalty Swearing reveal why some are calling Kora "the first concubine of comedy":

"Gentlemen and gentlemen, I've been attending these dinners for years and just quietly sitting there. That's because my unswerving devotion to Dear Ruler demands total silence."

laughs

"Dear Ruler always says he's delighted to come to these dinners. Phooey. He only eats with the press 'cus he can't execute on an empty stomach."

big laughs

"Of course while he's off, I like to watch Desperate Housewives."

guffaws

"If those women think they're desperate, they ought to try living in North Korea. Can you imagine if that show were produced here? Teri Hatcher wouldn't have to starve herself!

huge laughs

"I'm the real Desperate Housewife. Seriously, I have no free will."

laughs

"Can you believe it? There are people who say my husband is the world's most evil man - and he hasn't even held them as sex slaves!"

loud guffaws, applause

"But the Great Leader and I are complete opposites. I'm quiet; he's Stalinist. I'm introspective; he's murderous. I can't pronounce 'nuclear' and he can't stop proliferating."

loud laughs, applause, standing o

"Still, he's grown a lot since I first met him. Can you believe that when I was first abducted from a state farm by his family's henchmen, he didn't even know which end of the cow to milk?"

laughs

"Of course it's even more difficult now that they all have three heads!"

loud laughs, whistles, applause, standing o

"Seriously, both of us would like to thank you for inviting us - as if you had a choice!"

laughs

"Thank you also for staying in total thrall to the People's revolutionary agenda."

applause

"See you next year - if you're good!"

laughter, loud applause

POSTSCRIPT: The whereabouts of Kora Il-Jung are currently unknown.

England's Pleading

Today, Private Lynndie England will plead guilty to charges in the Abu Ghraib prison abuse case. These prosecutions were a long time coming, and I think all Americans - including the Bush administration - are relieved to see at last justice done and goats scaped. After all, the president has laid down a clear marker: anyone who believes that torture and abuse are acceptable tools in US foreign policy is worth no more than the meaningless backwater post of Attorney General.

And this approach has been a success. In the year since the Abu Ghraib story broke, there has not been one published instance of an Iraqi detainee tortured by an American serviceperson on film or video. Woo hoo! Weez on a roll!

But what of young Lynndie England, earthy star of this pageant of pain? Well, hers is a cautionary tale. She was once America's Swinging Sixties sweetheart in films like Barbarella and Barefoot In The Park. Then she took a wrong turn and landed overseas. Soon, all the world saw her smiling alongside enemy combatants, appearing to cheer on their efforts to humiliate the United States by stripping naked and mounting a body-pile insurgency. Now she was a symbol to America's enemies and the very embodiment of the addle-brained radical-chic politics long associated with small-town West Virginia. Could she ever apologize enough to satisfy her critics? The whole furor came to a head last week when she visited St. Louis for a hood-signing and was spit on by an angry Vietnam vet who she refused to give a reacharound.

Note: portions of the above are recycled from my review of My Life So Far.

Lynndie could spend a maximum of eleven years in prison. That's a long time, but I'm sure she'll find plenty of interest when she's released and resumes her favorite hobby, posing for very authentic Civil War reenactment photos:



Coming up: Nutrient Found In Wendy's Chilli May Be A Hoax