Hearts, not guns, kill people.

Or at least that's the insight I gleaned from the trailer for The Dark Tower, a.k.a. "The Chronicles of N(a)R(ni)A"—now available on Blu-ray!—a coulda-shoulda-woulda summer blockbuster from Sony Pictures with a storyline that, strangely enough, resembles that of Last Action Hero, a high-profile bomb for the studio 24 years ago.

"You taught me that it's wrong to lie, George."

"'After just 22 minutes of deliberation Webster convinced me to plead guilty,' said George Papadopoulos, an aide to President Trump during his 2016 campaign."

Anna Faris, uncredited 19-year-old background actor?

I thought I spotted her in the final scene of the 1997 Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy Picture Perfect on Netflix earlier today, but according to IMDb, I did not.

Kaley Cuoco of The Big Bang Theory, which airs on CBS, the home of Anna Faris's sitcom, Mom, appears in Picture Perfect in a credited role—"Little Girl"—but she was only ten in the summer of '96, when the movie was shot.

If you were a teenager that summer, and you're a blonde, and you currently star in a CBS sitcom, please leave a comment.

Why did Bob Dylan appear in a Victoria's Secret commercial in 2004?

Because he wanted to be just like Late Night With David Letterman regular Larry "Bud" Melman.

"He mentioned he always saw Larry [walk on] with those gorgeous models," Letterman's longtime bandleader, Paul Shaffer, told Chicago Sun-Times reporter Dave Hoekstra in November 2009 while promoting his memoir, We'll Be Here for the Rest of Our Lives, cowritten with David Ritz. "Dylan said, 'Why is he with those chicks?'"

Two decades after first appearing on NBC's Late Night—Dylan also performed on the penultimate episode of Letterman's next venture, CBS's Late Show, in May 2015—the singer-songwriter was given the chance to emulate his hero. Well, almost—Adriana Lima is the only model, gorgeous or otherwise, who shows up in Dylan's ad for Victoria's Secret.

There are legends, and then there are legends. Advantage: Larry "Bud" Melman.

"My name is Prince and I am funky ..."

"... but not between the hours of 9 AM and 5 PM Central Standard Time. Because my supervisor sits in the cubicle right behind mine, I am all business during those hours, with the exception of a half-hour unpaid lunch break and two 15-minute 'personal' breaks. Thank you for your patience."

"Oh, God! You Devil" ... is not the subject of this post, but the title of that 1984 sequel is entirely appropriate here.

A total of 666 IMDb users have given The Little Hours, an American comedy about naughty nuns in 14th-century Italy, an average rating of 6.6 (out of 10) as of 5:20 AM today, July 18, 2017. And because those nuns are naughty, the movie's critic-based Metascore of 69 is simply divine.

Good morning, excessive heat warning.

Last August I started watching the first 20 minutes of Good Morning America every weekday before heading off to work. I like catching up with the previous day's news (I never said anything remotely like that even when I was working at CNN almost 20 years ago), and I like seeing meteorologist Ginger Zee. She obviously knows her stuff, which is one reason why I have a crush on her, but she also happens to be very attractive.

I'm sorry for objectifying you, Mrs. Zee, but I promise to never send you a creepy fan letter or tag you inappropriately on Instagram. Your "excessive heat warning" is on my radar, however, as it was on yours yesterday morning:

A few weeks earlier, on May 11, you said, "It is very elongated in some areas," describing severe weather that formed in the scrotum of Texas and Oklahoma before climaxing in North Carolina. Or at least that's how it looked to me, a recovering adolescent, on your weather map:

I also seem to recall you referring to midwestern homes pelted with hail that "took a pounding in the backyard," but maybe I overslept one morning and dreamed that particular weather report. If I did, it wasn't "the wettest on record," to quote you once again, with "up to six-plus inches possible" (like you, I believe in science, not fiction, no matter how detrimental it might be to my ego), but if my crush could be represented on your high-tech ABC weather map, there's a 100 percent chance it would be a blushing bright red.

History. History. (Notice how it repeats itself?)

"What's particularly striking in the new book, though, is the cluelessness of the stalwart Republican grandees of the Ford presidential campaign, who were both blindsided and baffled by Reagan's guerrilla victories in their own midst. A panicked internal Ford camp memo struggles to parse the 'unexpected Reagan success in certain caucus states,' where the voters who turned out in shockingly large numbers were 'unknown and have not been involved in the Republican political system before' and were 'alienated from both parties.' As if describing an Indian ambush in the Old West, the memo goes on to exclaim that 'we are in real danger of being out-organized by a small number of highly motivated right-wing nuts.' Among those shocked was the canny Texas political operator James Baker, the George H. W. Bush paladin, who couldn't get over how 'absolutely ruthless' these uppity Reagan shock troops were. 'Our people just aren't used to this uncompromising hardball stuff,' he told Time."

—from Frank Rich's review of The Invisible Bridge: The Fall of Nixon and the Rise of Reagan by Rick Perlstein, The New York Times Book Review, August 3, 2014

David Ellis at his second best?

Ellis, where were you when James Patterson was writing Along Came a Spider and Kiss the Girls? Those books could've been twice as good with your contractually credited but professionally unacknowledged contributions to Patterson's effortless storytelling. You're fired!

Who'd you get down with in '94, Will?

On The Get Down, Netflix's megabudget, disco-era series, Dizzee, played by Will Smith's son, Jaden, draws himself as an alien.

Is he actually Men in Black's Agent J as a teenager?

You're welcome for the crossover idea, Sony, since your proposed Men in Black-meets-21 Jump Street mash-up movie never got off the ground.

Like in 2012's Men in Black 3, J will travel back in time, but in the fourth installment I want him to meet The Get Down's Zeke, played by Justice Smith, and say, "Wait, are you teenage me? You look more like me than Dizzee from certain angles. Allow me to break the fourth wall here for a second: Did I sleep with a Puerto Rican woman around Thanksgiving of '94? I know 'Smith' is a common last name, but you're freakin' me out right now, Justice!"

Stay away from drugs, children. Play double Dutch instead.

Nina Hagen's "New York New York" (1983) ...

... sounds like it snorted a few lines of Frankie Smith's "Double Dutch Bus" (1981).

a groove that fits like one of Mickey Mouse's gloves

I like Paul Carrack's "I Live by the Groove." But on first listen 11 years ago it instantly made me think of the kind of song that might've played over the opening credits of a Disney-distributed Touchstone Pictures or Hollywood Pictures comedy in the early '90s—with the credits entering and exiting from the left and right sides of the screen—as our hero drives around in his expensive convertible negotiating some sort of multimillion-dollar contract for a client before picking up flowers and Champagne for a hot date with his hot wife. Then his whole world falls apart, albeit hilariously: he arrives home to find the wife cheating on him with the big client in his own bed, of course. 

Most likely starring Jim Belushi or Tim Allen and, playing an early prototype of the "manic pixie dream girl," Penelope Ann Miller as the love interest who gives the male lead a new outlook on life.

dystopian future

We're all watching The Apprentice now. And we're all going to pay for it one way or another.

—from "All TV Shows, All the Time" by Joy Wang and Michael Hastings, Newsweek, June 27, 2005

an appropriate song (and singer) for a sad occasion

Rest in peace, mother and child.

click click click, glug glug glug

It was bound to happen: clickbait writers, stressed out by the sheer volume of headlines they're forced to crank out on a daily basis, began drinking at work, leading to head-scratchers like the one below.

How are we going to survive reality for the next four years?

In the summer of 2001, one year after CBS's Survivor became the first breakout "reality" hit on network TV, encouraging all the networks to produce similar shows, I remember hearing friends and other people say, "This trend won't last." But the following summer American Idol debuted, and it was as big, if not bigger, than Survivor. The fox, and not just the Fox network, had gotten into the chicken coop.

The networks, and especially cable channels, like reality shows because they're cheaper to produce than scripted shows. Donald Trump's presidential campaign spent half as much money as Hillary Clinton's, but Trump still won the states necessary for him to win the election; the star of NBC's hit reality show The Apprentice, produced by the same company that unleashed Survivor on the world, beat the odds.

And even though reality shows aren't really "real"—they're partly scripted to maximize drama, and the people on-screen, despite not being professional actors, are often seen acting out for the camera—they indulge viewers' appetite for voyeurism and rubbernecking, just as Trump indulged in racist, xenophobic, and misogynistic comments to woo like-minded voters.

My supervisor at work reminded me of the scene in Back to the Future in which Marty McFly is trying to convince Doc Brown, in 1955, that he's traveled back in time from 1985.

Doc asks Marty who's the president of the United States 30 years in the future.

When he hears the answer he scoffs, "Ronald Reagan? The actor? Then who's vice president—Jerry Lewis?"

President Reagan reportedly liked Back to the Future. But the thought of four years (or more) with Trump as our president sends chills down my spine.

a comedy sketch I wrote for a Second City writing class in 2004 about the Chicago Cubs and failure

For once—and only once—I'm happy to be proven wrong. Congratulations, Cubs.

"FAILURE" by Robert Cass

3/14/04 (version #2)

CAST

Peter Hillman - white, 36

Alex Hillman - Hispanic, 12

(The Hillmans' backyard on an afternoon in April.)

(Peter and Alex are playing catch.)

PETER

You're going to have the best time tomorrow, son.

ALEX

I guess.

PETER

Your first Cubs game. Your first chance to see the legacy up close.

ALEX

I've already been to a Cubs game.

(Alex drops the ball.)

PETER

What?

(Alex picks up the ball and throws it back to Peter.)

ALEX

When I was six. It was Orphan Night at Wrigley Field, so the orphanage took us.

PETER

                     (disappointed)

I didn't realize.

                     (loudly)

Grounder!

(Peter throws a grounder to Alex, who bobbles it.)

ALEX

All of us got our picture taken with Sammy Sosa and the Dominican flag. Nobody seemed to care that we were Puerto Rican, but it was still fun.

                     (pause)

I still want to go tomorrow.

PETER

Okay. Good. Because becoming a Cubs fan isn't just about baseball.  It's about learning how to live with failure.

ALEX

What do you mean?

PETER

The Cubs haven't won the World Series since 1908. They haven't even been in the World Series since 1945, which was almost a century ago.

ALEX

Well, actually, it's 1908 that was almost a century--

PETER

                     (continuing to talk)

Some people would say the Cubs aren't worth the hair that's about to start growing all over your young body, Alex, but those people know nothing about hope. They think it's easy to create a winning team out of thin air, but it's just like bringing a child into this world. It takes perseverance. And lots of money. And maybe even a scientific breakthrough of some sort.

ALEX

The Cubs never give up, huh?

PETER

No, they give up every season sooner or later. But the fans never give up, no matter how many times they're let down. And tomorrow you'll begin to understand what hope really is. Tomorrow you'll begin to see what failure is all about.

ALEX

What if the Cubs win?

PETER

(laughs)

That's my boy!

                     (loudly)

Pop fly!

(Peter throws the ball high up into the air. Alex catches it a few seconds later, then speaks.)

ALEX

Dad?

PETER

Yes?

ALEX

I don't want to play Little League this summer.

PETER

What are you talking about?

ALEX

There's a summer math program at MIT that my teacher told me about. It sounded like fun, so I applied for it.

                          PETER

Well, don't be disappointed if you don't get in, okay? Think of it as a learning experience so you can brace yourself for future disappointments.

                          ALEX

But I got in. The letter came yesterday.

                          (Peter doesn't say anything.)

ALEX (cont'd)

So is it okay with you if I go? Mom said I could.

PETER

Alex, you signed up for Little League last month. You have to honor your contract, just like the Cubs do.

                     (loudly)

Hard grounder!

(Peter throws the ball at Alex's chest.  Alex catches it, then drops it, then picks it up and throws it back.)

ALEX

That wasn't a grounder.

                          PETER

I changed my mind. You've got to stay focused.

ALEX

Okay, but ... see, MIT's practically paying me to go there for the summer. The Stanley's Wash-and-Shine Rangers aren't paying me anything.

PETER

That's not how Mr. Stanley operates.

ALEX

But I don't like playing baseball. I'm not a good athlete.

                     (slight pause; proudly)

I'm a mathlete.

PETER

Alex, remember what we said about not using made-up words in the house? That applies to the backyard too.

ALEX

Sorry. But it's true. I'm never going to be any good at baseball.

PETER

(long sigh)

You're right. You're absolutely right. You're not that valuable to the team.

ALEX

                     (surprised by Peter's honesty)

Well ... yeah, I guess.

PETER

So you admit you're a failure at baseball! See, Alex, you're no better than the Cubs or me!

(Alex holds the ball in his throwing hand and doesn't toss it back to Peter. There's a long pause.)

ALEX

I don't think you're a failure. And I'm not a failure, either. I just know what my strengths and weaknesses are, and I try to concentrate on the strengths the best I can.

PETER

(at the borderline of a breakdown)

Oh, so if I was able to conceive children with your mom, that would be one of my strengths, but since I can only shoot blanks, that's my weakness? Well, I can't control that, my darling little boy! And you can't let the things you can't control control you!

                          (There's another long pause.)

ALEX

I'll just be gone for eight weeks.

PETER

(composes himself)

Sounds good.

                     (pause)

And I'm sorry for that little outburst. I just ... it's just that I sometimes forget you already had a father before I came along.

                          ALEX

But I never even knew him.

                          PETER

I know. But you're his flesh and blood, not mine. You'll never be like me. And I can't change that.

                          ALEX

But you're my dad. I don't have your eyes, or your smile, or your short temper, but I do have everything you've taught me.

(Alex throws the ball back to Peter. They resume playing catch.)

                          PETER

Alex, there's nothing I can teach you that you don't already know. You're a kajillion times smarter than I'll ever be.

                          ALEX

                     (slight pause while he thinks)

But I wouldn't be this good at math if you hadn't asked me to calculate the stats from all those scouting reports during the off-season. 

                          PETER

I won a lot of bets in spring training because of those stats.

                          ALEX

You sure did.

(Peter walks over to Alex and puts his hand on the back of Alex’s head.)

                          PETER

Hey, here's a math problem for you, buddy -- if you add a little brother or sister to our family, how many family members will there be?

ALEX

                     (excitedly)

You're serious?

PETER

I've got to have somebody to take to Cubs games while you're gone. I can't just lay in bed with your mom for eight weeks!

(Blackout.)

"Howard, See Train"

If this Chicago Transit Authority electronic update board was a scratch-and-sniff children's book, it would smell like marijuana, urine, and expired hope.

Advertising or prostitution?

Sometimes it's the same thing, I guess. Sex sells. But did this store really have to pimp out the little mushroom in addition to mama mushroom?

I consider myself a fun guy, but this crosses the line.

Grim Sleeper, Wacky Neighbor, Texas Ranger

Lonnie David Franklin Jr., the serial killer known as the "Grim Sleeper," was sentenced to death one week ago today after being found guilty of killing eight women and two teenage girls in Los Angeles between 1985 and 2007. (He allegedly didn't commit any murders from '89 through '01, thus his nickname.)

Franklin was arrested and charged with those ten murders in 2010. One year earlier L.A. Weekly investigative reporter Christine Pelisek interviewed Enietra Washington, who survived an attack by Franklin in November of '88, after which he wasn't believed to have killed again until early 2002. One particular detail stood out to me in Pelisek's article:

"Task-force detectives have tracked down about 10 men associated with the victims, and have taken DNA samples from them to test against the killer’s DNA. They have checked hundreds of clues, many of which got tossed into the reject pile. One tipster insisted that Kramer from Seinfeld should get a close look, because the 13-year gap in the Grim Sleeper’s activity coincides with the years Seinfeld aired, the killings resuming after the comedy went off the air."

Seinfeld first aired on July 5, 1989, then didn't return to NBC's airwaves until May 31, 1990, for a first season comprised of only four episodes, an inauspicious debut for what would eventually become one of the network's biggest hits. The sitcom's final episode was broadcast on May 14, 1998.

But Seinfeld didn't have any black cast members, and Washington had identified her attacker as a black male. (On November 17, 2006, Michael Richards, who played Kramer, was caught on cell-phone camera yelling the N-word at black patrons during a stand-up set at an L.A. comedy club. He didn't kill that night, but he is guilty of bombing in the most offensive way possible.) Did any black actors appear as series regulars on any other long-running network shows that debuted after January 1, 1989, and ended before December 31, 2001?

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury of tipsters with too much time on their hands, I give you Clarence Gilyard Jr., one of Chuck Norris's costars on CBS's Walker, Texas Ranger, which somehow lasted nine seasons, starting with a three-episode tryout in the spring of '93. Before that he was one of Andy Griffith's costars on Matlock (1986-'95) for four seasons, beginning in September of '89. Gilyard fits the too-busy-to-commit-crime-because-he-was-on-TV-fighting-crime profile, tipsters!

According to the Chicago Reader, however, Gilyard went back to school to study theater after Walker aired its series finale in May of '01—and in Dallas, not Los Angeles.

You're free to go, Mr. Gilyard, but we'll be watching you (in reruns, of course).