Redefining "Train Wreck"

LiLo as Elizabeth Taylor

I don't honestly don't understand the fascination with the downward spiral that is Lindsay Lohan's career. The Disney princess who fell from grace, Lohan showed promise as an adorable moppet in the remake of The Parent Trap and actual talent in Tina Fey's Mean Girls. Then, something awful happened. 

The product of two completely dysfunctional parents and a group of toadying sycophants who don't know how to say "No," Lohan has been reduced to a sad pop culture joke, which even she doesn't get.

Multiple arrests for drug and alcohol offenses; several traffic accidents; a failed lesbian relationship; a shoplifting scandal; a very public fight with her mother; a father who behaves like a child and her most recent arrest for a brawl in a New York nightclub are all signs of someone in desperate need of an intervention.

This past Sunday, Lifetime aired Liz and Dick, starring Lohan as the iconic Elizabeth Taylor. Universally panned and reduced to a drinking game, the TV movie may well be the nadir of Lohan's film career (though I Know Who Killed Me comes in at a close second). Not that anyone really expected a Lifetime movie to be good... 

Of course, Lindsay has yet another film on the horizon, The Canyons. Written by hack novelist Bret Easton Ellis; directed by Paul Schrader (Cat People) and co-starring porn star James Deen, The Canyons is supposedly a thriller set among life in modern L.A. The trailers have been nothing short of ridiculous, much like Lohan's life of late.

It seems to me, what Lohan really needs is someone to hold her hand and guide her away from all the negative influences in her life, including her ne'er-do-well parents. Fame is as dangerous and addictive a drug as meth or heroine and despite the many slaps in the face Lohan has had of late, I must admit that I won't be surprised when her premature death is announced in the next few months. What a sad waste of a life which showed so much early promise. A truly beautiful young woman with so much potential shouldn't end up as a comical footnote in Hollywood history.

More, anon.
Prospero

Hurripocalypse!

She's here! Just days after the devastating East Coast earthquake, hurricane Irene has hit the U.S. Of course, I don't mean to make light of a serious situation (as of this writing, 5 people have lost their lives), but it is 11:26 PM and the most we've seen here in southeastern PA is a lot of rain. Yes, it's windy. Yes, the rain is very heavy and dangerous to drive in. But my power is still on and none of my possessions has blown away.

Now, Uncle P isn't stupid. I'm not about to tempt fate and shout a hubristic "Nyah-nyah-nyah!" at Mother Nature. The full force of the storm is still about 3 hours away. And the street on which I live, prone to temporary flooding during heavy rains, is already underwater. The sidewalk and apron in front of my house is completely submerged and the water is lapping steadily higher up my driveway and I live at the high end of the street. The wind has died down a bit, but the rain is falling hard and heavy. I've got water, milk, bread and flashlights with fresh batteries. I have a 1000+ page novel to finish by candlelight, should the power go out. My ancient flip-phone is fully charged (I really should upgrade to a magic phone). I think I'm going to be just fine.

But in case I'm not... My friends and family get first pick among my book, CD and DVD collections. What's left over should go to my local library. My sister is already the beneficiary of my life insurance policy (such as it is). Should any of my screenplays be produced posthumously, the royalties should go to her, as well. Of course, none of this would be necessary if I had a hunky Hawaiian BF to keep safe. Of course, it could be much worse. It could be a Nuclear Hurricane!

Oh, Jack Scalia... when will we ever learn?

More, anon.
Prospero