Perhaps a more nuts & bolts approach would have it "Justice Meeted Upon Delay." But you have got to love the deer-in-the-headlights look on his puss, i.e., in the earlier editions of WaPo. Be that as it may, it won't constitute justice until the greasy prick is frog-marched (and thank you for that visual, Joe Wilson & John Holmes) in an orange-jumpsuit.
On the other side of Sewer Hill, Bill Frist, the other majority white meat, is looking a little doped-up as well, for his shinola is hitting the fan, but hard.
Meanwhile the ice under ol' Dubya's skates looks to be glazing thinner & thinner, and we ain't talkin' Global Warming.
[Sigh!] Only 3-1/2 more years to go.
This dreary comedy reminds me of the climax scene in Devil's Advocate, where Al Pacino, playing Beelzebubba, works himself into a frothy malted as he raconts his vision of piling all earthly corruption high into the sky, to where it will stink out even Heaven itself. And I cannot recall, or count as high as that, the number of times I would think of that scene while reading in the news the latest Republican outrage.
My guess is the movie would play to a far wider audience today than it did in '97, especially if the marketing blarred something like: "Ripped From The Headlines!!"
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Footnote: Spotted Jack Valenti in the Tenleytown Showcase audience that opening weekend in '97 -- Chontos & I did. Contended here that his is the representation of grease swinging both ways.
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Inside the Other Actors Studio
Who better to comment sardonically on the current state of Hollywood than the underappreciated screenwriter? Here now are some of our favorite screenwriter blogs, reflecting both those who have made it and ...
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