We'd like to start this week's nonsense by sending big ups to the Foundation for Ethnic Understanding, Russell Simmons' new organization devoted to teaching black people that Jews are OK. P Daddy knows: Just peep his lawyers!

It appears Lil' Stevie Malkmus' new live outfit includes the backup vocalizing and tambourine wizardry of his girlfriend. If it was anyone else we'd disapprove of such a move, but in Steve's case we'll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he means it as an ironic mocking of solo artist pretensions. Either that, or he really has gone all rockstar on us.

That "Karma Chameleon" is a damned catchy tune. Damned catchy.

Big Dumb Face, Wes Borland's solo thingy, features the bass playing of a guy named the Cardboard Urinal. Eewwww. While we approve, not only of names like the Cardboard Urinal, but of Wes in principle (y'know, the wacky but seriously musical guy in godawful fratboy metal band), the record is a bunch of bollocks, reminiscent of a Primus side project, all Munchkin voices, dopey rock opera conceits, and excessive time changes. Yet it's still a bazillion times better than Chocolate Starfish, etc.

Slammin'. It's a slammin' outfit.

Palm Pictures spending money to bring Cousteau to the U.S. for SXSW is even dumber than Michael coughing up 500 bucks deposit on an apartment with no bathroom sink . . . In the course of one upcoming March weekend, NYC's stages will be graced by the Young Fresh Fellows, the Soft Boys, and the Waterboys. It's like there's been a tear in the space time continuum, and Well Hung's Golden Age heroes have returned to save us!

Karma karma karma karma chamel . . . sorry . . . If the XFL does nothing more than make Lorne Michaels "despondent and enraged," well, we're OK with that . . . The only thing duller than the Westminster Dog Show is the NPR report that morning . . . By the way, Hitmen (with the exception of Mike Archie, who had two touchdowns. Hey Mike, so what if you got cut by the Titans, it's not like they ever won a Super Bowl or anything) SUCK!

There's a new stage production of Rashomon currently running in NYC. We heard it was really good and then someone else told us it wasn't so good . . . Taylor Hanson cast his Grammy vote for Radiohead. Nuff said . . . Hollywood's Couple of the Moment is apparently Russell Crowe and Courtney Love. You know what's really nauseating about that? Everything.

Meet the Beat-alls is the best Beatles pastiche this side of the first Crowded House album . . . Josie and the Pussycats would have been a nightmare anyway -- have you people seen Can't Hardly Wait? -- but the fact that they are dicking over Dan DeCarlo really bites.

Boy, between his assholish behavior around the release of The Contender and this whole not taking credit in Hannibal because he couldn't get enough of it, that Gary Oldman is a real piece of work . . . We've said it before and we'll say it again: Wednesday is the best night on television, even if there is nothing on from 9 to 10.

We saw the trailer for Ted Demme's Blow, which almost certainly will. After all, when was the last Johnny Depp movie which didn't? And when the hell is Penelope Cruise . . . erm, Cruz going to play a character that is actually from Spain?

Finally, the correct answer is Gladiator, Ed Harris, Julia Roberts, Benecio Del Toro, Kate Hudson, Steven Soderburgh. We don't necessarily like it, but there ya go. e-mail to Sqwubbsy@aol.com

JASON COHEN and MICHAEL KRUGMAN
(February 17, 2001)