Who says Jon Stewart won't have AC on his show?

Because he did. Back when she was merely sickening, not plainly sick.

Oh boy! Do I get to be the one spoilsport here? Because The Holiday is enjoyable. Ms. Z is almost always spot-on, and I too find Meyers' previous movies too cute, too pat, and too sit-com zippydoo. (Meyers is uncannily indistinguishable from James Brooks and Nora Ehpron in tone, content, and comic timing. How do they do that? Is there a secret society in Westwood with its own blood ritual? Is Neil Simon still alive? If not, where is his body?)

Still, it's mere nostalgia to insist the classic romantic comedies possess deep truths and eternal poetry that The Holiday is bereft of and is therefore condemned. We saw those movies when we were young. Of course they left an impression. Youth is impressionable. New love tends to suffer when compared to old loves. Movies too.

We in fact love those old movies as much for the delivery vehicles as for the writing. We love the stars, the sets, the dreamscape. Good writing channeled through the mouths of Cary and Barbara et al becomes great writing. Romantic comedies were ridiculously idealistic, then as now.

Me Loov wanted to see The Holiday. I was game, cynical (I scanned Stephanie's review; I scan her entries every Friday to plan my weekend because she's a great critic), and was therefore set up to be pleasantly surprised. It has all the ingredients of the Oldies: a charming cast, snappy banter, dream homes, surrealism end to end.

I object to the notion that Nancy Meyers is soullessly cannibalizing classic Hollywood. She is soulfully cannib . . . er, quoting. Homage-ing. I was touched by her reverence for Eli Wallach character; I've enough history in that town to know he's 100% authentic. The "nine movies" gripe -- so what? The line is true to his character; like the rest of us he needs to dwell in his own private Hollywood. His speech to Kate about leading ladies of yore is, frankly, an example of the sharp dialogue that we insist no longer exists in romantic comedies.

More points for Meyers: After the stupid early snowy driveway scene, she ceased all further slapstick; she foreshadowed the inevitable exploding stove moment -- then dropped it. Whew, that was close. She gave Jack Black the right combination of jackblackness, stopping him short of his desperate scene-stealing yet leaving in his excellent boob-graze solo break.

Meyers seems to have made progress here, trusting smaller gestures from her actors. Maybe I was in an unusually receptive mood, feeling especially generous toward humanity after seeing The Queen. (Don't miss it.) But I thought all four leads were precise, loose, and sly of wit -- not a rim shot in the entire film. Cameron Diaz really has a knack for this stuff. I love the way Meyers loves Kate Winslet in this movie.

Meditative? With an opening scene mimicking how Michael Bay would direct the world's worst wildlife hunter?

This is basically a hack boo! movie. Lots of boo!s with an explosion on the soundtrack in case the visual assault isn't enough. Sometimes Will is coo-coo, sometimes he's a world-class scientist, and there's no shading to his wigwags.

The desperate zombies are unaccountably well-nourished. Lady zombies wear proper foundation garments. The zombie hordes crawling up the sides of buildings struck me as quite realistic, however, compared to the melodramatic cheeseball dialog between real humans in the prior scene.

This movie is a sorry mess at every level except for the entertaining fact that the zombies resemble Rudy Giuliani.

Jonah Goldberg never, ever engages the likes of Glenn Greenwald, Spencer Ackerman and John Holbo. He dispenses of their thorough debunkings with arrogant and irrelevant one-liners.

That is because Jonah Goldberg knows he incapable of defending his cute inventions against intellectually honest people.

Goldberg is store-bought-college smart; he's educated beyond his innate intelligence. Therefore he's the perfect "intellectual" for the credulous, who are the lifeblood of today's inarguably fascistic GOP.

I miss SZ when she was on the bubble. I can sympathize. I once had a movie-reviewing gig that required seeing merely one or two a week. After a couple of years I found myself hating nearly every movie too. Compulsory movie-going takes its toll.

There Will Be Blood is a curious, outrageous, compelling, quirky, ballsy and for me consummately fascinating movie, flawed yet still great.

To insist that DD-Lewis' "performance fails" says nothing about the movie, the director or the actor. It says everything about SZ's resistant state of mind. A year off might soften the thick calluses SZ has developed.

I gave money to Wes Clark's campaign in 2004 the moment he announced.

Alas, we learned that Wes Cark cannot campaign as well as he looks on paper.

Like John Edwards did running for VP in '04 and Bill Richardson did this past campaign, Wes Clark stammers, chokes and second-guesses himself when it's time to deliver the sharp, smart rhetoric.

Clark is just not fast enough on his feet. In fact, Barack is the only candidate out there who, when off script, speaks clearly, intelligently and as if he's addressing grownups. May he bring that art back into fashion.

Glenn, this post is a gift that will keep on giving to those of us who need an elegant summary of moral strength and American First Principles. Thank you.

Fight boorishness with more boorishness. Real smart.

"The media" loves this squabble. It loves all squabbles.

However, Jon Stewart's essential point remains lost: CNBC as "financial journalism" is a farce, a disgrace -- both before the crash and afterward.

I'm 60 and last year resumed the peak-bagging life with a longtime climbing pal. Most excellent. I used to struggle with the 4 a.m. starts. Now I'm up peeing anyway.

Two points:

-- Hiking poles. Great upper-body workout going up, protects (what's left of) the knees while descending.

-- It's spelled "graupel." Please 86 that dorky looking non-word "gropple" ASAP.

ad nauseam