"Evil exists," Hannity asserts. "It is real, and it means to harm us."

And Hannity is unafraid to place the blame for America's woes where it belongs: with the liberal establishment.

I remember when Ronald Reagan began to chart a path toward the projection of American power in the direction of no longer appeasing but winning the cold war, and sending Pershing missiles into Europe in 1983, attacking Gadhafi in 1986......then the voices of appeasement on the Left were outraged then, yet the Berlin Wall fell in spite of them.

I remember their constant whining about "deficits as far as the eye could see" in the 1980's, yet we now know that the bold vision of Reagan's supply-side tax cut spurred the longest period of growth in American history.

Then, as now, God almighty has given us another Republican president who has cut taxes to spur economic growth, then as now we have budget deficits "as far as the eye could see"(the problem is the eye can only see so far!!!), and then as now a Republican president is facing America's enemies and using our vast resources for the projection of good in this world, and the Left cries bloody murder again.

Will they ever learn? Probably not. But it's good to have a reminder that the Left was wrong before, and they are wrong yet again. Thanks Sean!!!!!

One word comes to mind to describe Ann Coulter's writing style: pithy.
This book successfully describes in brilliant detail the day-to-day numbing of public opinion by a few powerful media types in New York City that control all of the news we as citizens receive and govern our lives by.
I agree completely with her analysis of the NY Times as a bastion of left-wing reactionism, and outright hatred for the current President Bush. For example, terms like "enormous Bush tax cut that caused the deficits we now face..." that isn't news, that's commentary! Yet the Times will say that in their straight stories, not the editorials only.
Her take on Katie Couric and the Today show is right on the money, how they, in their own perky morning way, try and slant stories towards a Leftist point of view time and time again.
A work like this is especially important now, when our country faces the imminent threat of attack and we are relying on the media to give us the straight story and not advance a political agenda or try and pull down our President.
Hopefully, this will have the effect of raising the awareness of enough people in this country to realize we shouldn't just accept the gutless reactionism of left-wing media types.
Go get 'em Ann!!!!

After having played around with his Godfather trilogy many times over the years, Francis Ford Coppola felt it was time to tackle another one of his cinematic beasts from the past, namely Apocalypse Now, his 1979 nightmare Vietnam epic about a group of American soldiers (led by Martin Sheen) heading up river on a mission to assassinate a crazed colonel (Marlon Brando).

With Apocalypse Now Redux, Coppola has re-edited his original masterpiece, inserting 49 minutes of additional footage and, though interesting as history, it is debatable as to if the extra scenes actually add to the film in general.

Sure, the bonus footage of Robert Duvall's surf and napalm-lovin' Colonel Kilgore is a welcome addition, as are some additional scenes of interplay between the soldiers and a monologue by Brando's character, Colonel Kurtz. Others (an additional encounter with Playboy bunnies, the legendary French plantation sequence) are much less welcome, not only softening the film's grip of terror, but making it seem about twice as long as the 202-minute running time.

Thank goodness then for DVD, a medium that can allow viewers to easily decide which version to watch by inserting or dropping any additional scenes at their own pleasure.

John Coltrane is well known for his technical prowess, as manifested on the impossible-to-play "Giant Steps", but he truly distinguishes himself through his ability to hypnotize the listener with his intensely penetrating and spiritual saxophone work. Much of his work with his early 60's quartet was spent searching for a deeper emotionalism. 1962's Coltrane, though uneven, is an excellent example of the beginnings of this style, which is typefied by long, intense, modal soloing and a great facility with producing a variety of sounds, some rather uncouth, on the horn. 1964's Crescent shows Coltrane in a similarly contemplative form throughout, simplifying his style even more, to the point of playing only the head of "Lonnie's Lament". But the ultimate crystallization of Coltrane's spirituality is the album that was his gift to God: A Love Supreme. A suite in four parts, this album calls into question where one "song" begins and the other ends. The album flows together in an amazingly natural way, and takes the listener on a ride accordingly.

Weaving between fiction and reality, Woody Allen's Deconstructing Harry tells the tale of a writer's sexual exploits, romantic failings, and dealings with depression. Allen's character Harry transfers his life's problems into his books, which causes much strife between the real-life counterparts in his world.

Once again Allen has leveraged his considerable fame to draw in Hollywood's elite. Throughout the film, every face is a familiar one. Billy Crystal is portrayed as the devil who steals Woody's romantic lead, Robin Williams as a blurry actor who can't get his focus, Kirstie Alley as a ex-wife who discovers Harry has cheated with a patient, and countless more celebrity cameos.

The joy in partaking in this film is evident in the celebrity actors who appear. There's a certain prestige in such an endeavor, and we, the film audience, can identify just about everyone in the film. At the same time, each character that appears has so much baggage in our minds. For instance, Demi Moore appears as an ex-wife. How many of us can honestly think of her in any way other that her celebrity profile. While this isn't a major problem, identifying with some of the celebrities proves difficult at times.

Deconstructing Harry catalogs Woody's struggle with sexual desire and his inability to love. Early on we discover that he has finally found true love in a pupil, Elizabeth Shue, but she has fallen in love with his friend.

The plot is shaped around Harry's self-identity questions, and the character's goal is to go to an honorary ceremony at his alum. He has nobody to take. His ex-wife won't let him take his son, his girlfriend has left him, and a hooker is the only one around that will take him up on his need for companionship.

The play between Allen's semi-autobiographical stories, which flash to and from reality, illuminate the film and shows how Allen's writing channels his depression and gives him a release from an otherwise ugly life.

After viewing Deconstructing Harry, I wonder how autobiographical it really is.

If you're a Woody Allen fan, Manhattan Murder Mystery is as comfortable as an old shoe. Every time it plays on TV I find myself watching it-I've probably seen it, oh, six or seven times now-even though it's not Allen's best.

Best, for me, are notable Allen films from the 70's: Annie Hall(1977), Love and Death (1975), Sleeper (1973), and Manhattan (1979).

Manhattan Murder Mystery is a notch or two below those terrific works-but it's still worth watching.

Originally, Mia Farrow was to star opposite Allen, but...well, you know the story. The two broke up (very publicly) and Allen-who likes to work with familiar faces-turned to his prior leading lady, Diane Keaton.

Manhattan Murder Mystery also reunites Allen with writer Marshall Brickman (the two share screenwriting credit here as they did on Annie Hall and Manhattan). Like those films, this one contains some very funny one-liners. I also liked the whole set up (the murder mystery of the title). And there's terrific chemistry between Allen and Keaton, who play sort of grown up versions of their roles in Annie Hall.

I really enjoyed the back-and-forth between Allen and Keaton. Allen plays Larry Lipton and Keaton plays his wife Carol. He's a book editor at Harper's and she's looking to open a little restaurant ("basically French, although international cuisine would be fine"). They live in Manhattan and have a grown son in college. Their marriage is comfortable, but Carol feels Larry's become rather stodgy and fears turning into "a dull, aging couple" like the older couple in the apartment down the hall.

Early on they spend an evening visiting this couple and are then surprised when a day or so later the wife turns up dead. It's deemed a "classic coronary", but Carol becomes suspicious of the husband (played by Jerry Adler), who seems "a little too perky." On a subsequent visit to offer condolences she stumbles upon an urn in his kitchen and recalls an earlier conversation where the widower's wife had talked about twin cemetery plots. So why then does it appear he had his wife cremated?

Right from the beginning Larry doesn't buy into her suspicions. But an old friend Ted (Alan Alda)-a recent divorcé who has a thing for Carol-goads her into thinking that maybe their neighbor killed his wife. A few scenes later Carol actually breaks into this guy's apartment looking for clues a la Hitchcock's Rear Window. Larry thinks she's nuts, but she feels he's being a fuddy-dud-that it was a cinch to get the key from the super-and she has caught the widower in yet another lie. He's not going snorkeling with his brother in Florida-as he previously told them-but instead has tickets for two to Paris.

The mystery gets even more complicated and I don't want to give much away because there's some fun surprises. Part of that fun involves Anjelica Huston, who plays Marcia Fox, a "dangerously sexual" novelist who has a thing for Woody Allen's character.

To deflect her advances, Woody sets her up with Alan Alda because deep down he really loves his wife and he doesn't want to mess that up, although the movie plays with the notion that the two are growing bored with each other-that they might both be attracted to other people.

It's the murder mystery that adds some juice to their marriage. At least that's the way Carol sees it: "Look, Larry," she says, "we've got plenty of time to be conservative. You know what I'm saying...it's like this tantalizing plum has just, like dropped into our laps. I mean, life is just such a dull routine and here we are, right? I mean, we're on the threshold of a genuine mystery."

As Manhattan Murder Mystery winds down, the one-liners fly fast and furious. But I also appreciated how the movie very subtly recalls Annie Hall with a reference to Wagner.

The two of them have this arrangement: she'll sit through an ice hockey game if he'll watch an entire Wagner opera. She fulfills her part of the bargain, but-as a Jew-he has a problem upholding his side ("I can't listen to that much Wagner, you know; I start to get the urge to conquer Poland").

In Annie Hall Allen was convinced that the record store salesman-a big, tall, blonde guy with a crew-cut-was trying to tell him something when he announced the store had a sale on Wagner ("So I know what he's really tryin' to tell me very significantly Wagner").

In Manhattan Murder Mystery he's still that same insecure guy-a little older, but still defensive and neurotic. There's something comforting about that.

I will start by saying this, to all the men and women who are in destructive relationships and they know it(!) but have been trying to fool themselves into believing that things will eventually 'work out', please see this film.
Yes its a typical Woody Allen movie, with his deeply intelligent insight into human relationships, but unlike alot of his films, I was actually angry when I finished it. This is no shortcoming of the movie let me tell you, but rather a shortcoming of people (myself included) in general. It was so hard to watch the characters in the film, Sydney Pollack, Mia Farrow, Juliette Lewis, Liam Neeson, etc...enter situations that they knew were doomed from the begininng, out of desperation and loneliness.
Obviously me feeling so strongly after the film shows that it is a subtly powerful film about human relationships and how stubborn we all are when we want something but know its not good for us. See this film please!!!!

The key to a great Woody Allen film is always the dialogue. It made Annie Hall a bizarre take on a very original
idea. But that is the charm of Woody Allen, he takes everyday things completely twists them up with wit and satire and the overall
product is something both entertaining and very nicely polished.

Here he takes adoption by the horns ... Anyway, he's married to Helena Bonham Carter they decide to have a baby, they do, they love it and then
suddenly Woody wants to meet the boy's mother.

What Woody discovers is that the boy's mother is a adult actress wanting to make it big that has starred in the most
outrageous of pornos and is now working in prostitution. Except, she doesn't work the streets she more rather, makes appointments ...

Woody becomes enamored by the prostitute mostly because she's a colorful character and he can't believe she
conceived his son. They come close to falling in love, but it's more of a fascination than anything. (typical Woody move)
Here, he connects the story in tune with Greek mythology, there are hilarious scenes in which Woody consults with the Gods as
to what to do.

Mira Sorvino, who plays the prostitute, won a Well deserved Oscar for her performance. She completely holds the
audience by the throat with her ditzy hooker with a big heart. The reason I loved this movie so much was the exchange of advice.
Woody with the Gods, and then his relationship with the hooker. His relationship with his actual wife in the movie is sort of side-plotted
and isn't very important but maybe it is. Maybe Woody was showing sub-consciously even, that sometimes you can go looking for
your baby's mother and you wonder if it's the power between you raising it and her inner feelings as a mother, to be a replacement
for an unhappy marriage? That sounds complicated and I must admit is trivial to the plot, but I sort of felt sorry for Woody in this film.
The bond between him and Mira Sorvino developed in something more than lust and love, it was almost like finding your best friend.

The dialogue in this film is particularly mature, filled with curse words and extremely perverse references the film is
unsuitable for children of any age and might offend those who enjoy Woody Allen movies and expect a sweet tale. Just a warning,
the language is very graphic. I'd also like to mention Michael Turturro's performance as the dumb boxer, suits him well and he makes
him a lovely addition to this almost perfect film.

One of the many great albums by the Count, this one has it all.

On October 14, 1962 a United States spy plane flying high over the island nation of Cuba took a photograph of a chilling sight: a military encampment being run by a group of Soviet army personnel. The Russkies were busily installing medium range ballistic missiles that would put the eastern half of the United States within range of a nuclear attack. For some reason that remains hidden to history, then Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev didn't think this little project would raise any hackles in Washington.

Khrushchev was wrong. From the time that President John Kennedy learned of the threat until the time the Soviets backed down and began to remove the missiles, a little less than two weeks later, was one of the most tense, and possibly least understood, periods in United States history.

I lived through the Cuban Missile Crisis as a child, lived through the daily "duck and cover" exercises at school, as if covering your head with your hands could help you survive a nuclear blast. I lived through my father's regrets over moving his family from the relative safety of Calgary, Alberta, Canada, to the prime target that was New Orleans, Louisiana, a target that sat so far below sea level that the construction of bomb shelters was not possible. I breathed in my parents' fear and uncertainty, saw the dread written on the faces of my teachers, and tried to decipher as many snippets of worried adult conversation as I could pick up. But until I saw Kevin Costner's new movie, Thirteen Days, I had no idea that we, as a nation, literally came within hours of nuclear Armageddon.

In this tightly scripted outing by David Self, (based upon the book, The Kennedy Tapes - Inside the White House During the Cuban Missile Crisis, by Philip D. Zelikow and Ernest R. May) the true terror of those days comes alive. Costner plays Kenny O'Donnell, a college friend JFK has appointed as his special advisor. Through his eyes, we watch Kennedy and his brother, Robert, play a heart-stopping game of diplomatic and military brinkmanship, fighting not only the Soviets, but also their own military commanders, who, despite Kennedy's record as a war hero, never trusted their commander in chief.

Thirteen Days features a number of strong performances, including Dylan Baker as Robert McNamara and Bruce Greenwood as President Kennedy. Kostner is competent, but his Boston accent is uneven, and that was a bit of a distraction. When is Costner going to learn that accents are not his strong point? One would have thought after the embarrassment of Robin Hood, the man would have never attempted another accent again as long as he lived.

Roger Donaldson shows a sure hand as the director, giving just enough information to keep the audience informed without overwhelming them. One warning: this is an adult film about adult subject matter, something that would bore younger children, and frighten older ones. Get a sitter, so you can enjoy Thirteen Days and all its complexities without interruption.