Walmart is apologizing for selling sweaters that appear to show Santa with lines of cocaine.
The sweater says “Let It Snow” and includes three white lines on a table in front of Santa.
Part of the description said: “The best snow comes straight from South America” and that “Santa really likes to savor the moment when he gets his hands on some quality, grade-A, Colombian snow.”
Cocaine Santa? CANCELED!
Pop culture’s recent reconsiderations of ’90s tabloid figures have tended to flatter liberals’ belief in the left-leaning arc of the moral universe. Documentaries like O.J.: Made in America (about Simpson) and Lorena (about the Bobbitt case), as well as dramatizations like I, Tonya (as in Harding) and The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story (as much about prosecutor Marcia Clark as Simpson himself), have excavated histories of abuse and recontextualized the scandals in light of newer, more nuanced understandings of gender, race, and power. But hardly any of these projects, which implicitly celebrate the social progress of the past two decades, hail from conservative points of view. That makes Clint Eastwood’s Richard Jewell, about the Atlanta security guard falsely accused of bombing the 1996 Summer Olympics, a notable exception, if not necessarily a notable film.
A movie shows a person harassed and victimized by the government and media being harassed and victimized by the government and media?!? Goddamn you, Clint Eastwood, you crazy Republican Man!
I don’t advise it, but if you have never subjected yourself to Slate’s Inkoo Kang it might be worth reading it. She’s one of the worst movie and television critics around. She doesn’t review movies and television so much as subject them to a struggle session to see how well they conform to her little red book. And most are found wanting.
Clint Eastwood? CANCELED!
Work in Progress is a loosely fictionalized version of the foibles of Abby McEnany, a 45-year-old Chicago improv scene stalwart who identifies as a “queer fat dyke” and, in the first episode, struggles with mental health hurdles that include lining up 180 almonds gifted to her by a “fuckin’ bitch” at work. If her life doesn’t improve by the 180th almond, she tells her therapist, she is going to take her own life. One problem, though, is that her therapist has literally died during her session, almost gleefully staring at the ceiling, maw agape, as Abby details her suicidal ideation. “Are you fucking kidding me?” whispers Abby, once distraught, after lightly kicking her shrink’s leg. It creaks, rigor mortis set in.
It’s a credit to McEnany’s comedic skills that a scene that could have been overly maudlin, even cliché, is actively hilarious, never belittling the depression her character is experiencing but skilled enough to contextualize it with an unpredictable sort of gallows humor. In the pilot episode, which McEnany shot for $3,000 and screened at Sundance before Showtime picked it up for a series, Abby balances a sort of resigned gloom about her future with bursts of often-awkward hope, like when she ends up on a date with Chris (Theo Germaine)—a cute, much-younger trans man working at a lunch spot—after her sister Alison (Karin Anglin) gives him Abby’s phone number.
Traumatic. Trauma. Like being shelled by the enemy for three days straight. Like watching your friends starved to death in a prison camp. Trauma. Oh, the lives destroyed by sketch comedy!
Comedy Sketch from 25 years ago? CANCELED!
Did the car consent? Did anyone even ask it?
Tawny Kitaen from 1987? CANCELED!
(Side Note: Kitaen’s first cinematic starring role was in the sword and sandals gigglefest, The Perils of Gwendoline in the Land of the Yik Yak
Flip through the photos on that imdb link. It looks fantastically bad.