THE WEEK FROM MY VIEW
by James Killough
I rather like Nicole Kidman. As an actress, I mean. I’ve heard varying reports on what she’s like to work with. I try to discount the Hollywood Personal Assistant Network, a.k.a. Nannywood, which naturally labels her a “bitch.” But being hot gossip around Nannywood is rather like negative confirmation: if you’re not a bitch or “total weirdo/asshole” (for the guys) then they don’t talk about you, anyway.
Mcconaughey is the “Cannes revelation” because of his recent career-changing roles.
Indeed, there’s no point being nice to PAs because that won’t make them feel empowered when the network assembles to compare notes; they cannot feel they have the moral high ground over you, cannot one-up each other with who is more of an insider with the gods than whom.
THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES
by James Killough
There is something highly comical about cosmetic surgery of any kind, whether it’s just botox treatment or a full facelift. Vanity is amusing. The vanity of middle-aged people is even more amusing; there is nothing funny about aging gracefully, but fighting it kicking and screaming with excessive nip and tuck and plump and freeze and augmentation can make for some visual slapstick.
Regrettably, transgender icon Amanda Lepore isn't nearly as interesting as a person as she looks. In fact, she's rather dull and kinda stupid. But maybe that's just her reaction to me.
There are instances when plastic surgery is heroic, when it reconstructs a body after an accident or a birth defect. But that isn’t the bread and butter of the industry, although if I were a surgeon, I would find the reconstructions and the defect corrections far more interesting and challenging than the fountain of youth stuff. It goes without saying that, Amanda Lepore’s character aside, I consider sexual reassignments corrective surgery.