Good, bad, ugly, and the empty chair too, I love arguing Eastwood
Every few days this realization makes me pause, as if I’d been struck with Déjà vu or forgotten my keys somewhere. As a lifelong Eastwood enthusiast (having winced my way through some of his ‘80s choices only to beam with pride when he came to his senses), I dread his absence – and also his last laugh at leaving us to ourselves.
Will I know what to do with myself when that day comes? Yeah. But I’ve never lived in a world without with Clint Eastwood – have you?
Every now and then some Eastwood reminder will come my way or I’ll exit my house past a huge The Good, The Bad and The Ugly poster that hangs by our front door. Not enough space here to list all the reasons I admire the man, but the three that most frequently come to mind are his elderly grace, professionalism, and class. You see, I love ‘im for what he is now because it makes what he was then so much cooler.
There’s never been a better time for a feature-length documentary giving viewers an intimate look at how bullying affects kids and families. So why isn’t the MPAA on board?
Though it’s already won multiple awards for accuracy, effectiveness, and candor, “The Bully Project” (set to be released March 30 by The Weinstein Company) has just received a final R rating by the Motion Picture Association of America, effectively blocking its screening in schools across the country becauseof “some language.” Really?? Language? Do the voting members of the MPAA even know any teenagers? As the death toll from Northeast Ohio’s Chardon High School shooting rises to three, as here in Los Angeles 10-year-old Joanna Ramos is mourned after succumbing to blunt force head-trauma at the hands of a schoolmate, this is a seriously bad time for the MPAA to demonstrate its disconnection from the young moviegoers it aims to protect.
It isn’t as if the film is simply capitalizing on alarmism or fear-based, reality show-style hype. No throbbing music leads to a nine-year-old flipping her classmates the bird; no Junior Tarantino action stars run around with shotguns intended for ravage and rape. There’s nothing about any of the movie’s advertising that suggests the audience will have a good time with bad words. This is about fragile faces and hurt hearts learning that “the power of hearing one voice in solidarity with you can be transformative.”
“The Bully Project” is a marketing tool, sure, but it’s more of an awareness campaign with a documentary film used to highlight its central theme. It’s encouraging, not selling. “The Bully Project” exists – all by its lonesome – to advocate for everyone’s involvement, to re-imagine education as an instrument of “social and emotional learning” where empathy and responsiveness are “built-in” to the classroom. It is guaranteed to provoke strong emotional reactions from its audiences regardless of whether or not it contains foul language.
Bullying is a crisis that is choking the life out of more young people than most of us realize, and the film’s point is to prompt us to start realizing it before it’s too late. So listen up, MPAA: Telling teenagers they’re too dumb to differentiate between language and a need to be heard makes you part of the problem, not part of the solution.
For more information, check out these links and the Bully trailer.
Change.org’s petition to the MPAA to change “Bully’s” rating to PG-13
When Lincoln Brown, a white Illinois teacher, found the N-word in a note passed during his majority African-American sixth grade class, he paused to discuss the slur in detail, even explaining why it hurt him to say it. Midway through the lesson, the school’s principal walked in and Brown wound up suspended without pay.
First of all, isn’t a child learning about the N-word better than him or her simply picking it up from some dummy? I say yes, but I’m not sure we need Teacher Brown’s Federal lawsuit against Principal Gregory Mason and Chicago Public Schools (CPS) to get us there. Brown is claiming a violation of his First and Fifth Amendment rights, alleging that his 5-day suspension is both unjust and based on an inaccurate depiction of the episode submitted by Principal Mason. Read more
“Los Angeles beckons teenagers to come to her on buses,” sings the band Soul Coughing in a song called “Screenwriter’s Blues.” Besides being literally true, the same lack of imagination applies to anyone who looks for the reactions of others before rendering an opinion: the copycats and the skittish; the birdbrains and the sheep; the neophytes and the misfits, all of whom seem to be drawn to my otherwise great city. Read more
There was once a woman who worked as a nanny, who wandered the streets in her off hours photographing pedestrians, policemen, and passersby. Thousands upon thousands of pictures she took, tossing countless rolls of undeveloped film into drawers and boxes without an apparent need for approval or accolade. Tonight in Los Angeles, Vivian Maier’s legacy of fascinating self-direction and independence will be given the art gallery treatment with a reception at Merry Karnowsky Gallery on La Brea Avenue.
From what we know of Maier, courtesy of John Maloof, discoverer of all of those lonely rolls of film and the imagined stories behind them, she did not seek fame or fortune. She wasn’t competitive nor driven by a need for attention or even very much company. For such a rare and precious discovery, I’m both excited and afraid for my expectations of whom her work will attract. Will the “look-at-me” L.A. crowd be up for her self-contained legacy? Stay tuned.
By not following through on things, I’ve caused more damage to my self-image and confidence than all of the frustrations or bad luck the world has ever thrown at me.
The older I get, the harder the could’ves and should’ves tend to bite. On the other hand, when I start something and I finish it, I feel like I have a full tank of gas and a wallet full of cash. The feeling is like body armor against the bullet points on lists of others’ accomplishments: Read more
Swearing off all usage of the phrase “shock and awe” almost as soon as I heard it helped me deny its imprint, so now it can land where it wants, such as with street photographer Vivian Maier’s recently discovered body of work. I am in shock that Maier could hide the outcome of a life’s passion from the world so effectively, and I’m in awe of the work itself. I’m also in shock that someone unknowingly found thousands of Maier’s photos and undeveloped rolls of film, and I’m in awe of that person’s willingness to rise to the occasion and share them.
The celebrated prostitute risks cholera and ridicule for beachside photo ops with fans that live on $1.71 per day. Her bodyguards will eat enough to feed 300 of the children who might otherwise touch the reality television star without warning.
Kim Kardashian's visit to Haiti is expected to empower the Haitian people to buy Kardashian Glamour Tan and Kardashian Beach Bunny SwimWear
I know, I know – why start a conversation about Kim Kardashian at all? Hey, I go where the B.S. takes me.
Kardashian is a myopically self-obsessed individual with a grossly deformed ego and a missing moral compass, and in fact there is currently no better example of a person who’s become a character at the expense of actually earning any.
Estée Lauder Introduces European-Specific Skincare Line, Reminding Us of Our War Against American Women
Personally, I believe most cosmetic facial creams and moisturizers do nothing for women’s skin besides hydrate it, and I think the cosmetics industry sells mostly ageism, vitamin A, and water. I also firmly believe in what Estée Lauder must have when she began selling the facial crèmes she invented with the help of her chemist uncle: that “there are no ugly women, only women who don’t care or who don’t believe they’re attractive.” Read more
Yesterday I participated in a call-in radio interview with station 1290 AM in North Texas called Real Life Talk, hosted by author David Sabine, Ph.D. The man is an accomplished clinical psychologist who, as you might expect, has a soothing tenor and is easy to speak with, plus you couldn’t pay the guy to interrupt you.
I was invited twice previously to Sabine’s show to discuss personal responsibility, excuses, and the mental cases/ethical shape shifters we Americans are quickly becoming. First we usually bat around the ball of my background and the story behind my forthcoming book, Where Excuses Go to Die, and from there we get down to business. Today that meant Dr. Conrad Murray and Mr. Herman Cain. Read more
Every few days this realization makes me pause, as if I’d been struck with Déjà vu or forgotten my keys somewhere. As a lifelong Eastwood enthusiast (having winced my way through some of his ‘80s choices only to beam with pride when he came to his senses), I dread his absence – and also his last laugh at leaving us to ourselves. 
