Gravity: Underpants and Confusion

Okay, so I owe my dad a post about peeing in New York (that was weird to write) and it's coming, I promise - especially since I have another travel week on the horizon - but first: my review of the critically-discussed movie Gravity. Massive spoiler alerts. Sort of.

As a disclaimer: I'm not really into space. I actually think space is pretty stupid and don't understand why anyone would want to go there. Did you run out of amazing places on Earth to visit? Yeah? Liar. It takes forever to get NOWHERE in space. There's no wine. You can't bring your dog. I'm pretty sure there's no internet. No bookstores. Space is literally infinitely boring.

So the whole premise of the movie - some lady like, falling out of her spaceship or whatever* - is not that sympathetic to me. If you fall out of your spaceship, that is your fault. For being in space in the first place. I feel much the same about people who get eaten by bears while camping in remote areas. Do you know that we invented hotels? People bring you new soaps every day. Nice soaps. And towels. You want to sleep in dirt, fine. But don't blame the bears. You failed a Darwin test. There are no bears in hotels.

Anyway, you're like 'so why the fuck did you go see Gravity, you joyless harpy?' Fair question. Kyle had two free movie passes, and we'd heard Gravity was kind of visually ill when viewed on IMAX/3-D, and that was happening at the theatre near Kyle's house, and the idiot government is still shut down - you might have heard - so no museums are open, and it was rainy, so we were like 'let's just do that'. Everyone likes George Clooney. Even if he's in stupid space.

Before we left, we spent a moment with the new inhalation contraption favored by cool kids and people like Action Bronson. Kyle took a shot of E&J in the basement, because that's where they keep their E&J. We had weird/great/unnecessarily strong mango margaritas at a Mexican place near the train station. This paragraph kind of explains the rest of my review.

We got tickets to the 5:30 show. It took forever to get popcorn and Junior Mints, and once I was out of the line we walked through the first door we saw with 'Gravity' scrolling across the marquee line. Inside, the ONLY seats left were in the middle of the very front row. It didn't seem like we had much choice, so we just sat.

It was close to 5:40 - figuring three to five minutes for previews, we didn't think we were in such bad shape. But everyone was SUPER SETTLED IN. No shuffling around or anything; it was sort of intimidating. I was a bit put off. How seriously can you take any situation where every person in the room is wearing the same silly glasses? On screen, Sandra Bullock was deep into some existential crisis, and I was like, Jesus, space movies are IMMEDIATE bummers.

But whatever, we were there, so I tried to commit. Even though the first row of a 3D IMAX movie is unpleasant as HELL. It should be illegal to sell tickets to those seats. If you have any kind of seizure disorder, I am almost sure you could sue AMC for triggering the shit out of you.

After ten minutes, I was pretty bothered by the lack of set-up. Was this movie just throwing conventional narrative structure out the window? That seemed unlikely, given the target audience. Something was wrong. Kyle was on the same page.

"Do you think this is maybe the middle of the movie?" It seemed possible. We had no idea what was going on. Then George appeared. He and Sandy already seemed familiar. He dropped some knowledge. I elbowed Kyle: "Yo, let me look at the tickets." He handed them over. They said 5:30, and it was only 5:58, so this must be the beginning. It took another five minutes for me to realize the movie might be playing on several screens.

"This has to be the middle of the movie." We agreed. "Should we leave and find the right theatre?" We could not decide. Kyle'd become invested. That more or less settled it. And it was cool, I kind of was too, and we'd likely have similar problems in the right theatre at this point. I was mostly just annoyed that no one seated around us had the decency to be like 'hey, morons, this is the middle of the movie' when we walked in.

Anyway, onscreen: Clooney gives Sandy a pep talk, justifies her child's death-related depression, then disappears. I assume George died earlier in the film and that was his space ghost or something.  The talk works, because he's George Clooney, and Sandy's inspired to live or whatever. So she punches a LOT of buttons in an attempt to send herself back to Earth - like honestly, she gets out an instruction manual and just presses a ton of shit randomly-  it's exactly how I approach every DVR/cable set up I've ever encountered, so now I'm pretty confident I could be an astronaut. Then she blasts back to Earth and lands on a tropical beach, and gets out of her pod and lies on wet sand (gross) and cries, and she's wearing a tank top and underwear and I was like "When did she take her pants off? Did they burn off on re-entry? Is this Bali?" And those remain my biggest questions about the movie. Because then it ended. Also, Sandra Bullock is like, 50 years old and looks AMAZING in her underwear. Just wanted to shout that out. Hot-ass middle aged people in this movie, if that's a drawing point for you.

I asked Kyle if  we should  find someone and explain what we did wrong and see if we could watch the beginning parts that we missed, and he replied "I don't really feel like I need to, and now we have time to catch the Sox game." Which - word. Because it was probably better with more George Clooney, but even the parts in space that we did see were pretty boring, because they were in SPACE and that shit is boring as hell. So then we both went home. On my way, I bought some brown rice sushi at the Foggy Bottom Whole Foods and it was terrible. But there was still a whole box of Junior Mints and half a bottle of wine in my purse, so I'm chalking it up as a win.

Overall, pretty great little Saturday.

*My confusion regarding the premise of the movie will become clear in a moment.

Crack Rock

Guys.

I am crazy about Frank Ocean.

Like, I know, 'woohoo, Katie, you and everyone else who listens to r&b, congratulations.' But it's more than that. I haven't listened to an album over-and-over-and-over again like this since...well, since Fiona Apple's new album came out a few weeks ago, but she's my soulmate, so that's sort of an anomaly. Anyway...'Channel Orange', my goodness. It's on Spotify, it's on iTunes, it's on his Tumblr, there's like, a thousand ways you can listen to it, so just go.

And not to be ungrateful, Frank, but it's about g.d. time. 'Novacane' came out like, a year and a half ago. I remember exactly where I was the first time I heard it - in a rental car, lost in New Bedford, looking for some old shipping magnate's house to take pictures of in the rain. I stopped at the Visitor's Center to pee and get directions (Dear everyone who works at the New Bedford Vistor's Center: you are fucking delightful humans, and your facility is lovely) and when I got back to the car, the first song on the radio was Mssr. Ocean's debut. The DJ was like 'Okay, I don't even know guys, this dude is on some new school Prince shit, and it's...it's just crazy, listen' and he played it, and I was like 'OH MY GOD THIS GUY IS SORT OF ON SOME NEW SCHOOL PRINCE SHIT, AND IT IS CRAZY' and then I totally missed the turn and forgot the directions and ended up in Rhode Island, which like, isn't hard from New Bedford, but still.

So then 'Swim Good' came out, all that 'Nostalgia Ultra' business, and he did some shit on 'Watch the Throne' that was pretty ill, but not enough! Of him. So I pretty much decided 'this guy is never coming out with a full album because he hates me' and I half-forgot about him, because I have ADD and I am not medicated.  Or not, whatever, sometimes there's just a lot to think about.

Then, recently, I'm sure you've heard, he wrote this really lovely post on his Tumblr/blog/whatever about his first love, who happened to be a man. And mostly I was like 'Oh shit, Frank Ocean's album is dropping soon!' (I actually think stupid shit like that) because, honestly, if you can fall in love with someone, isn't that just nice enough on it's own? But the internets went batshit, and it made me think about how true it is, that hip-hop and r&b are so straight-centered, and it was pretty fucking brave and beautiful and honest of him, to put that out there, and then Pitchfork gives Channel Orange a 9.5, and fuck, guys, this might make a difference.

Some of the songs are girl-centric, some are pretty gender-neutral, and then there's something like 'Forrest Gump', which besides having an adorably smart chorus, is totally progressive in that sex-light I've been talking about. I mean...I don't know quite why everyone's always so focused-insistent about hip hop's homophobia issue -- of course, I get it, it is, but it's like everyone trips over themselves to talk about how homophobic hip hop is, when, in reality, is indie rock so much better? Is ANYTHING? Go anywhere. Even 70's glam rock. Mick Jagger was apparently fucking David Bowie for half the decade, but he's still singing about Angie* and heroin. 'Channel Orange' might be, after a full lyric breakdown, the most interestingly sexually progressive mainstream album like...ever?

Oh, and also, IT'S FUCKING AWESOME. I've listened to 'Thinking Bout You' approximately 85 times in the last four days. (I know he released it last year but I missed that.) Even if you don't give a crap about anything I just talked about, if you like music, just listen to this shit. Actually, first, look up the performance of 'Bad Religion' he did on Jimmy Fallon last week. Watch ?uestlove's face. It's crazy to see someone you idolize get that 'Oh my fuck' look. It's amazing.

So, to reiterate: Guys. I am batshit crazy about Frank Ocean. Get yourselves there.

*And I know, Angie was Bowie's wife? The 70's were crazy.

If Pandora Were A Person...

10:25 p.m.. On a Sunday. The Sunday after Christmas. It is snowing. Sort of.

Pandora plays Mobb Deep's 'Hell On Earth'.

Pandora: What kk? What?

Me: Are you trying to get me pumped up right now?

Pandora: Yes. You look like you're falling asleep over there. It's time. For you to get pumped up!

Me: For what, exactly?

Pandora: I want you to get really pumped up --

Pandora plays 'Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuthing Ta F' With'.

Pandora: to MAKE YOUR LUNCH FOR TOMORROW! YESSSS!!!

Me: I have to admit, I'm legitimately excited to make to go make my lunch right now. Spinach salads better recognize!!! But why are you using all this motivational goodness up on me right now?

Pandora: I know you, love. Better than anyone else. And I care about your well-being in a completely proportionate amount. If I'd played that one-two while you were getting ready to go out last Saturday? Scary things might have happened. That close to the full moon and the solstice AND the eclipse? People might have died. Or at least disappeared. Wait, what are -- are you doing the butterfly right now? Hang on.

Pandora plays SWV's 'Rain'.

Pandora: Are you...is that a little better? I don't want you to stab yourself over there.

Me: That was exactly what I needed. Now I'm relaxed. Unpumped, a little. But still ready to continue chopping. Also, the SVW got me thinking about Taj, the lady in the group who got to be in SVW, marry Eddie George, and then was on fucking Survivor. Like, she is so awesome. Holy shit, I just Googled her to link to her name, and her Wikipedia page is unexpectedly inspiring. I was not expecting to read that and be like 'what an incredible story!' She is going to be so creeped out when I write her a letter asking if I can write her biography.

Pandora: Can you repeat that? I didn't catch it all, I'm playing pretty loudly right now. You turn it up a few notches when you're two to three glasses into the bottle. I'm not judging. I just notice these things. Hello, my whole appeal is in the observational data I gather and process. What were were talking about? Taj. Don't look at me like that! I mean it. I want to know. It's not silly. Tell me again. Oh my god, you're just going to tell me later anyway, spit it out. No, I'm not laughing. No. No (snort) I'm sorry, honey, now you're making me laugh. With your angry face. It's a perverse reaction, I know. Didn't I just get you all pumped up to make that salad? I can't relax for a minute? I'm listening to these songs too. Are you...what, you're not talking to me now? Don't test me, child.

Pandora plays an insipid commercial block, then threatens with the monthly listening limit warning.

WWPJD?

The election is making my head hurt. Every day I am in front of Brian Williams, his giant head all up in my living room delivering the nightly news, and I am saying "Why, Brian Williams? WHY? I am SO CONFUSED. Why does nobody care that the nutty Alaskan bitch couldn't win a seat on the PTA in most communities and that old man is obviously senile for appointing her and he is CLEARLY GOING TO DIE IN THE NOT SO DISTANT FUTURE AND THEN WE WILL HAVE A PRESIDENT WHO THINKS DINOSAURS AND PEOPLE ROAMED THE EARTH AT THE SAME TIME SO CAN YOU HELP ME UNDERSTAND HOW THIS IS HAPPENING BRIAN WILLIAMS, CAN YOU PLEASE?????"

And Brian Williams just gives me this look like, "No, kk, I can't. My head hurts, too. The physically inexplicable white rings beneath my eyes that you've been obsessing over for the better part of the last decade are even duller and less snowy-hued, haven't you noticed? I'm doing my best, I swear. I wake up every morning, and I look at my glorious coif in the mirror, and I say to myself: "Brian Williams - what would Peter Jennings do?" And then I think "JESUS CHRIST, Peter Jennings never had to deal with this shit. Peter Jennings had Nixon and Nam and the crack epidemic and Reaganomics and Bill Clinton and I have RETARDS IN THE OVAL OFFICE AND LARGE SCALE WEATHER DISASTERS AND AN IMPENDING ECONOMIC COLLAPSE AND OK MAYBE THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO BE A JOURNALIST AND MAYBE I'M JUST FREAKING OUT BECAUSE IT'S A LOT OF PRESSURE TO ENDEAR YOURSELF TO THE NATION AS A TRUSTED NEWS SOURCE AND I DON'T KNOW HOW PETER DID IT ALL AND STILL HAD TIME FOR HIS FAMILY, NEVER MIND A BALANCED DIET AND NOW I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND WHY HE SMOKED BUT THAT'S ALSO WHAT KILLED HIM, AND I'M JUST REALLY STRESSED OUT, OK, KATIE?"

And then I'm like "Jesus, Brian Williams, I'm sorry. I didn't realize." And he's all "WELL NOW YOU DO."

And then the news is over and Entertainment Tonight comes on and I have to give myself a lobotomy before they start talking about Miley Cyrus and my face explodes.

Live Action Oscar Rambles

Oooh look! The Oscars are on! I didn't realize those were tonight. Hey - Jon Stewart is hosting? Yay! I love Jon Stewart! I'm going to watch this.

8:15 - Ok, there is a half hour pre show? On ABC? Hasn't E been doing this all day? I'm going to walk the dog.

8:30 - Finally. Opening monologue. I love you Jon Stewart. I even love your jokes that fall flat. Love you, love you.

8:40 - Initial thoughts on Oscar Hair 2008: so far both Ellen Page and Jennifer Garner are rocking messy textured hair that would look a whole lot better if it was just a little shiny. Messy hair is cool, but reassure me that it's clean, ladies. Jennifer Garner's hair actually looks exactly like mine did this morning. But I woke up on the couch this morning, after arriving home Saturday night and determining that my bed was simply too far, and the path there littered with too many shoes. Jennifer Garner's hair looked like it shared the evening with mine.

8:47 - Hey! George Clooney in the audience! Did you know his girlfriend was a waitress until like 15 minutes ago? Vote Clooney!

8:50 - 80th Oscar Birthday Montage. I dig the montage. By the way, when did the whole cultural backlash against Billy Crystal begin? Like, all of a sudden everyone hates him. What the hell did he ever do to you?

Oooh, I wish I had been alive when Isaac Hayes performed Shaft. That should win the Oscar for best performance in Oscar History. Then the category should be closed. It was that awesome. And Jesus, Hollywood was really open about its rampant drug use in the 70's. Oh, and the 60's. And the 80's.

8:52 - I love Anne Hathaway's skin. Her dress, however is heinous. It looks like she snipped a red lei in half and stapled it to her chest.

Jesus, I have seen no movies this year. This whole 'waiting till shit appears on HBO/On Demand' thing is killing me. Was Hot Rod nominated for anything? No?

Katherine Heigel...so, one shoulder brightly colored dresses are in this year? Kinda ick. But I am digging this pale skin thing.

Hey, the third Pirates of the Carribbean movie came out already? I still haven't seen the second one.

8:55 - I'm seeing La Vie En Rose like, immediately. I just developed the hugest crush on Marion Cotillard.

9:00 - I hate the Oscar songs. Always. These songs always suck. Except Shaft, of course. And when Three Six Mafia was nominated. The song sucked, actually, it was just a really weird cultural moment. Why the hell is Amy Adams singing about scrubbing toilets? Why is she wearing an outfit from my elementary school music teacher's wardrobe? Her heels are killer, though.

9:05 - Yes! The McDonald's commercial with the b-boy kid dunking his apple slices! I want to hang out with that kid.

9:07 - When did The Rock become a legitimate actor? What did I miss? I mean, he's not presenting for Best Actor or anything, so he's not that legit...yet. At this rate he'll be the mayor of someplace in three years. Oh, you don't believe me? Did you know that Jesse Ventura was in Predator? Wrestler --> Actor --> Politician. That's how the politically ambitious and heavily muscled roll.

9:10 - Vanessa Paradis has lipstick on her teeth. I didn't know that actually happened in real life.

Ooh, Cate Blanchett is presenting. I LOVE Cate Blanchett. It's almost impossible to believe she's real. Did you see Notes on a Scandal? She's super human. I could write poetry dedicated to her hair in that movie. And I like her dress, except for the collar. What the hell is going on at the neckline? It looks like she's holding the fabric up with a floral boa constrictor.

9:20ish - Best Supporting Actor Award, presented by Jennifer Hudson. Goddamn, Jennifer Hudson. Did you take like 4 Ambien and attack your dress with a pair of scissors before you got on stage? Are you a robot? Is your system malfunctioning? Someone help her.

Javier Bardem wins! And then immediately makes out with the old lady next to him. Isn't he dating Penelope Cruz? Did he just love all over his mom? That was weird. She looks like she rocks though - check out her bracelets! And dope speech, Javier. God, he's sexy. Ok, but stop making out with your mom, man. It's creeping me out.

9:30ish - I adore Kerri Russell, and her necklace and her dress...but why is the bodice so huge? I love that she's cool with her small chest...but a camera with a birds eye view could make this shit x-rated real fast. You're Kerri Russell. Get it fitted.

Woah, the song from August Rush does not suck. Who is this little girl singing? She's incredible. Is she wearing track pants?

And the Oscar for Whitest Moment of the Evening goes to Jon Stewart...for referring to the ubiquitous white person dance as 'the cabin patch'. My flame of love for him flickered a little there.

9:40: Best Supporting Actress Award. Tilda Swinton wins! Goddamn, Tilda looks a hot mess. That is the ugliest dress I have ever seen. And I love the pale skin this year, but this woman looks dead. Like she was buried for 3 months, and dug her way out of the ground just in time for the ceremony. She is still wearing the shroud she was buried in. Her speech was cool, though. She said 'nipples' and 'buttocks' in the same minute. Jesus, how freaking hot is George Clooney? I need to see Michael Clayton.

9:45 - Even Jessica Alba is pale! I love it! God, she's gorgeous. But what the hell is with all the horrendous bodice-feathers tonight? The inspiration, apparently, was a very timid showgirl.

9:50 - Best Screenplay Based on Material Already Produced or Published or Something...damn, didn't this category just used to be called 'Best Adapted Screenplay'? How do they fit all that on the Oscar? There's not much room for text.

9:52 - Another wack song. Miley Cyrus terrifies me, although her dress was beautiful. (Did you know Miley is short for Smiley, which is what her parents called her as a baby? That is the stupidest nickname I have ever heard.) Kristin Chenowith is so cute, I wish she wasn't torturing my ears with this heinousness. Do she and Kerri Russell shop at Too Big In the Bodice 'R Us? It's cool that you own your flat chestedness. But you're rich. Find a tailor. Oh my God, this song is awful.

10:02 - Is it weird that I have an ENORMOUS CRUSH on Seth Rogen? I don't usually go for pudgy guys with JewFros. And yet.

The Sound Mixing and editing Award...Tommy Lee Jones was in No Country for Old Men? I didn't know that. There's this whole weird segment of the population who insist he looks like my Dad. Really! Whenever my Dad used to tell me this, I never believed him, because he looks nothing like Tommy Lee Jones. Then we were having lunch one time and our waitress ACTUALLY ASKED HIM if he was Tommy Lee Jones. It was bizarre. Other, normal members of the human race think he resembles Mike Lowell.

10:10 - Best Actress Award. I knew nothing about Marion Cotillard before tonight, but now I adore her. Not the mermaid dress so much, but she's French, they can get away with that. Cutey speech, too.

10:18 - It was sort of strange that they came back from commercial to Jon Stewart and the August Rush singing girl playing Wii Tennis. Was this product placement? Or did the writesr burn out before they edited this segment? Oh Jesus, another fucking song. Hey! Is Colin Farrel talking about the song from Once? I loved that movie! And all the songs! Are they going to perform? Yay! And who don't I have a massive crush on? Because Glen Hansard? I love him. You know what? I'm going to put the wine down for a little bit.

10:25 - Best Picture Montage. I have seen exactly 26 of the Best Pictures. Out of 79. I feel like I should have seen more. But there are some movies I am just never going to see. Like Lord of the Rings. Oh, get over it.

10:32 - I hate Nicole Kidman. I have to say that before I admit that she is wearing the most gorgeous necklace I have ever seen. Now, I will repeat: I hate Nicole Kidman.

The Honorary Oscar Presentation. Dude - Robert Goyle looks INCREDIBLE for 98. 98! He came out wearing a towel like Rocky, and then spouted nonsense for five minutes. Do your thing old man! 98! This might wind up as my favorite moment of the whole night.

10:45 - ANOTHER song from Enchanted? Really? Hey look! John Travolta! Oh my God! Why is he dancing to this crap? Ah, because he's going to announce the winner. If the song from Once doesn't win...Yay! It wins! And Glen Hansard told everyone to make art and I totally love him and I almost cried a little. Shit, how did this wine glass get back in my hand?

10:58 - Cameron Diaz has my favorite dress of the night.

11:00 - I got hungry here and prowled around the kitchen for a while and missed the people-who-died montage. Ok, I did it on purpose. That shit makes me cry.

11:26 - Best Original Screenplay. Diablo Cody's badass Betty Rubble dress rocked...and her near breakdown was adorable. Look at all these people with emotions tonight! Emotions and pale skin! It's all very deconstructed this evening.

Yes, I need to see Juno, too. I told you! I wait till shit comes out on HBO! It costs at least $10 to see a movie in Boston, and I can never decide which one to see, and I get thirsty or have to pee at least once, and I can never find my seat again, never mind the correct screening room - one time I left to find the bathroom and somehow used an exit that deposited me directly INTO THE PARKING LOT. It took me forever to figure out how to get back into the building. Movie theatres are stressful. Plus, I am a girl who is taking notes during the damn Oscars. I am easily distracted. I like possessing the ability to rewind.

11:30 - Best Actor. I'm actually loving the retrospectives. But I can't even see a clip from Philadelphia without tearing up, so I'm already misting a little when Helen Mirren takes the stage. Weird dress, but she's the shit. Obviously, I am rooting for George Clooney, but everyone says Daniel Day Lewis is going to win. DDL's my Dad's number one man-crush, though, so I'm not mad at him. And he wins! Look at his crazy old school suit! He bows for Helen Mirren! I am so, so charmed by his crazy ass. I know he's supposed to be this super intense method acting nutcase, but his speech was sweet and humble...so charmed. He's a real artist. Make art!

11:41 - Best Picture. Hey! Denzel! My Momma (who is the truth, as mommas go) has loved three men in her life, that I'm aware of: my Daddy, Peter Jennings, and Denzel Washington. As such, I have similar feelings of warmth. Man, I really need to see No Country for Old Men.

Hey, its over? Cool. I'd like to thank my parents and their non-Tommy Lee Jones-resembling, Denzel-loving, pale-small-chested-child producing asses; my brother, the other pale flat chested relative I love; and my dog, whose studded collar was the best accessory of the night.

Don't Be Loony, Vote for...

I don't want to talk about the election. Because if I start talking about the election, I'll eventually get down to sort-of endorsing someone, and I don't want to do that. As a feminist, I should be really, totally stoked that I have the option of voting for a female president - which I am, in many ways. But the reality is that I'm now a disgruntled feminist (yes, there are other kinds) because here we are, with a lady on the ticket...and I don't like her.

So? I'm going to endorse my own candidate.

George Clooney.

I am 100% serious. George Clooney would be the best president ever. Americans have shown that they're totally ok with an actor in the Oval Office, and I think everyone can agree that George Clooney is a way better actor than Reagan. Plus, he's not a snitch.

George Clooney has done his time in the trenches of his profession. This shows us he is not afraid to work hard. He appeared in Return of the Killer Tomatoes. This shows us he doesn't take himself too seriously. He also had a reoccurring role on The Facts of Life. This shows us that he is human, and had bad hair in the 80's, just like everyone else.

Foreign dignitaries like George Clooney. George Clooney owns property in Italy, and can interact with people from other cultures without behaving as if he has entered an interactive zoo exhibit. George Clooney is making a movie to raise awareness in Darfur. Has our president been to Darfur? Can he find it on a map? Does he own a map?

George Clooney is a man of the people. He was once a carpenter (like Jesus! If that's your thing). He eats dinner with lowly reporters and locates the faulty carbon monoxide detectors in their apartments by scrambling around in their crawlspaces (I know this because I saw it last night on E News. Yes, sometimes I watch E News after I watch the regular news. Sometimes I need to. It's like a current events chaser.). George Clooney is pro-union. When the writers were striking, he explicitly stated that he would not cross their picket line, even at the Oscar's. And he is nominated for an Oscar.

George Clooney is intelligent, charismatic, grounded, charmingly self-deprecating, and has enough cash to finance his own campaign. George Clooney is also exceptionally attractive. This means that people will vote for him even if they have no idea why. This means that people who would otherwise not vote for anyone will leave their homes on election night and vote for George Clooney. This also, conversely, means that people who become pissed off when they witness the uninformed masses flocking to the polls to vote for George Clooney, will become inspired, and will themselves go out and vote, just to make their individual voices heard above the Clooney Chorus. In this way, George Clooney will have increased participation in the democratic process. Can George Clooney do no wrong?

That was a really great argument.

George, if you're interested, I will happily sign on as your assistant campaign manager in charge of visual aids. I've never made buttons or drafted nifty slogans before, but I could bedazzle the crap out of any campaign paraphernalia you send my way.