Second Star to the Right and Straight on 'Till Robin Williams

In many ways, Robin Williams was a man who defied definition.  There are few people in any arena who could lay legitimate claim to the title of Unique, but if there were any more deserving of the title than Williams, none come to mind at present.    Perhaps that was one of the reasons that on August 11, 2014, I found myself sitting in my cubicle at work having to hold back tears; with the death of Robin Williams it seemed that the world had lost something truly irreplaceable.

Though almost invariably associated with comedy, for me Robin Williams always stood for his more dramatic (or at least non-comedic) work, i.e., AWAKENINGS, GOOD WILL HUNTING, THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP, THE FISHER KING, INSOMNIA, ONE HOUR PHOTO, WHAT DREAMS MAY COME, DEAD POETS SOCIETY, etc.  He was one of those few who was able to so completely transcend the boundaries we set.  Williams was one of only a handful of people, along with other greats like Bill Murray or Steve Martin, who could successfully cross--seemingly at will--the dreaded No Man's Land that separated genres.

This Town Deserves a Better Class of Celebrity... Apologetica Celebritatus

Apology accepted, Kanye.

There is a lot to be made of our relationship with the concept of celebrity. In a lot of ways, this
relationship has become a cultural barometer, and the current forecast is slightly hazy with a seventy percent chance of bullshit.

In a recent example of the current climate, one Jason Biggs (you know, the pie-fucker), was slammed by a bunch of… bored assholes (I guess?) for a comment he made on Twitter about the recent Malaysia airlines crashes and/or acts of aggression. The first reaction for many people was probably the obligatory jokes about Biggs’ current level of popularity in comparison to the AMERICAN PIE days, followed by jokes about various articles of food that he’s probably fucking these days, followed by making up culinary-inspired titles of porn movies in which Jason Biggs could conceivably star (PIGS IN A BLANKET, PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME, DONUT HOLES, DONUT HOLES 2: BOSTON CREAM, TEA BAGGIN') followed by resurfacing memories of Shannon Elizabeth topless, followed by a hurried, late-night Internet search for her playboy spread when you’re sure the wife and kids are soundly asleep, followed by a relaxing 3 a.m. shit, followed by a few episodes of Breaking Bad, followed by calling in sick for work, and finally followed by--for some people--righteous indignation.