The image that sticks with me is this obscene kind of “hunting”… dyspeptic old men groaning their way out of cars to have farm-raised birds released right in front of them so these ancient farts can stand there and merrily blast them out of the sky, afterward leaving them to rot. This is not hunting for food, and barely even for sport. It’s just wholesale slaughter for amusement. It’s excessive and sickening.

It’s hard to have an objection to people who kill to eat, who show respect for the animal they’ve brought down. And I’m no vegetarian. But killing any living creature for simple amusement isn’t just wrong, it’s evil. And it’s typical of Cheney, who, more and more, lives up to the caricature of dark excess he’s earned over the past six years.

Yes, Salon, you are to be congratulated for publishing these photos when few others would. But now that they've been on your front page link for, what, nearly three months now, it just smacks of smug self-congratulations to keep that link on the front page EVERY SINGLE DAY. Any effect that these photos have or will have is past now... and you just look like a four year-old begging Mom to "Watch me, Mom! Mom! Watch me! Mom!" It makes you look less like brave investigative journalists, and more like petulant instigators.

Let me add my vote to the lovers of this movie. No, the story wasn't as strong as it could be, and it did feel a tad long... but the adventure and spectacle and kraken attacks and the sheer visual ingenuity of the crew of the Flying Dutchman put a smile on my face for almost the entire 2 1/2 hours. Everything you want in a summer movie.

James Ellroy’s prose is an acquired taste, but one I will heartily vouch for: his rat-at-tat style drips with atmosphere even as he strips down the language into bare-metal parts. Ellroy is a pontillist, building each spare sentence into a large, overwhelming picture of exquisite detail. .To be sure, Ellroy’s book “The Black Dahlia,” written earlier in his career, shows only a glimpse of the stylist he would become, but Stephanie Zacharek’s throwaway characterizations of Ellroy as a poor writer and “Dahlia” as a “bad book” can’t go unchallenged.

But having said that, the movie I eagerly anticipated is awful, full of campy, overwrought acting and dialogue, and a score that drips with fat-saturated cheese. All of the actors are working way too hard and trigger far too many unintended laughs. If “LA Confidential” hadn't been such a triumph, I would have great pessimism about translating Ellroy to the big screen. As it is, I think I can safely blame De Palma for this particular train wreck.

McCain was a politician I got excited about, and I NEVER get excited about politicians. As a centrist conservative who thinks the GOP got WAY too far gone with God 'n' war 'n' gays 'n' corruption, I was thrilled with his stances... I donated money, joined his "Straight Talk" thing... I bought into the whole deal. Even Dems who I talked to trusted him, and would have voted for him.

I had my eyes open, though... I knew he could win a general election (maybe easily), but not the Republican primaries.

Then he started campaigning for Bush in 2004, and sold his soul.

Now? His right-wing pandering has made him Just Another Politician in my eyes. And I think I'm not alone. It feels like a betrayal. I want the 2000 McCain back.

I liked "Rome"... I didn't have the same passion for it as I did "Deadwood," and it did feel a bit rushed at the end, but the finale was pretty satisfying. My bone to pick was with the show was the utter miscasting of Cleopatra. She had not a hint of the erotic exoticism that would lead Mark Antony to be believably smitten, to throw away his life and be dragged into debauchery... she looked like a slightly-more-attractive-than-normal Caucasian housewife. Here's where someone with a more exotic look and an intensity would have really shone. Every scene with Cleo was distracting as a missed opportunity.

It's got nothing to do with his politics or his lifestyle, but I cannot stand Rufus Wainwright. His crooning is like nails on a chalkboard; he has a range of seemingly three or four notes that he sings completely out of his nose, and he NEVER SHUTS UP. He gives the music no room to breathe, because he croons over the top of nearly every second of his songs. For me, it's ghastly music.

...since I finally had a place to express my long-held sour opinion of Rufus Wainright, I am enjoying my holiday weekend much more. Food tastes better. The air smells sweeter.

I have to laugh at these candidates who try to “out-God” each other, then act righteously indignant when their “deeply-held” beliefs are questioned. Mitt Romney squealed, Huckabee complained, and now Obama is being hoisted by his religious petard. If you’re going to trumpet your God credentials, then those become fair game for examination, as well as possible discredit and ridicule. It's no longer a "personal decision" if you're going to stick it in my face. Just mutter some vague platitudes and make sure that religion stays far out of the dialogue, stop going to “faith forums,” and keep that wall of church and state high. This whole thing serves Obama right.