"And to them I say, nobody can eat fifty Creme Eggs." -- Ugh, one is enough for me, and frozen, please. Check out this cautionary tale from Salon, and have an eggy Easter weekend...

It's a lovely April day, raw, grey, 40 degrees, with sleet in the forecast -- so while you're hunched over your mug of tea, check out the underwater photgraphy of David Doubilet. Feeling the sand on your toes yet?

For a chiffon-wisp of a movie, we have a whisper of a TicketStub:

* Blades of Glory -- Rounding out Will Ferrell's Anchorman/Talladega "trilogy of humbled arrogance" is this gentler, sillier comedy on ice. Without the raunch factor of the first two, this movie made us feel a little old for it, which was enhanced by the 95% teenage audience. But come on, two dudes in sequined Lycra? Comedy gold! Cleverer than it deserved to be, yet deftly skirting homophobia in favor of timeless nut gags, it's an 85-minute prescription for the end of a long workweek. Then again, I'd pay to watch Will Ferrell reading the phone book. (B)

"And it's why they can't stand McCain even though his views are actually more doctrinally 'conservative' than Giuliani's -- because McCain doesn't seem to hate liberals viscerally enough and seems to believe in some (very minimal) limits and restraints on what the Leader can do." -- Read Glenn Greenwald's essay on Rudy Giuliani's recent musings on Presidential authority, and then ask me why I'd rather have Mitt Romney in the Oval Office any day. This one's for you, Michelle! :)

And they say American music is dead? -- I just received a frightening email from TicketMaster. It suggests I "won't want to miss these event(s) that matched [my] interests," and proceeds to list a Frankensteinian hodgepodge including: Earth Wind & Fire, Morrissey, Boz Scaggs, Pat Benatar, the professional soccer quarterfinals featuring Trinidad & Tobago playing Guatemala, something called the "Solid Gold Dance Party," Michael McDonald, Evanescence, and as a final blow, High School Musical: On Ice! Memo to Ticketmaster: I'd only pay to see Morrissey on a Smiths Reunion Tour, duh.