The reviews of “300″ are in. From the looks of it, “300″ is one of those films that gets critics worked up into such a frenzy that they have to go out prove the old adage that the pen is mightier than the sword. Slate’s Dana Stevens (a person who, for the record, I absolutely adore) calls it “a mythic ode to righteous bellicosity¹”, The New York Post’s Kyle Smith imagines that Hitler Youth will be “heil-fiving each other throughout” and A.O. “Call Me Tony” Scott rips it as being “about as violent as Apocalypto and twice as stupid.” Ouchers!

But despite the critical onslaught, your Uncle Grambo will probably pay to see the movie twice this weekend. Once because I’m a fanboy who LIVES for big screen cinematic spectacles like this, but TWICE because my boy Eric Gillin sent me the following review after attending a screening on Monday night: “Tits. Violence. Anger. Repeat. It’s the shit.” Hallelujah hollaBACK, witches!

• For those of you who haven’t been following All Things Uncle Grambo as closely as I have, it’s important to note that I have been in the middle of not one but TWO beefs on Gawker Media sites this week. First, Ben Mathis-Lilley took the opportunity to close his 2007 Detroit Tigers preview by rehashing a particularly nasty comment I made about him way back in 2004. Although he wrote that my actions “disturbed some people in my family when they Googled my name”, it turns out that they did NOT, in fact, ever see this². Because, as I pointed out that day in the comments (which makes me a Deadspin commenter, I suppose), Google didn’t even RETURN this search result until the publication of his piece. So, Ben, I would like to take this opportunity to let you know that I don’t have anything personal against you. I just hope, for your sake, that your employers at Slate employ better fact-checkers than they do at Deadspin. Wouldn’t want to see you wind up back in Midland because of some some Jayson Blair type shazz!

  The second beef involved a petty little piece that Idolator wrote about Stereogum’s decision to make fun of Celine Dion. Apparently in Idolator’s eyes, poking fun at the “vaunted” 33 1/3 book series and their decision to release a book about Celine Dion is tantamount to crossing a line in the sands of coolness. Blogga PLEASE! Your retaliation post would’ve made a lot more sense if you would’ve at least disclosed that someone at Idolator is apparently friendly enough with Carl Wilson (author of said Celine text) to have invited him to participate in their inaugural 2007 Jackin Pop Critics Poll. Now don’t get me wrong, I can respect the fact that you want to defend your friend, but next time why not just preface your post by admitting as much? To borrow a phrase from long-time Stereogum (and Klosterman!) fave Billy Joel, “Honesty is hardly ever heard. And mostly what I need from you.”

• The Onion recently launched a new blog called The Hater. Its tagline, “The pop culture blog for people who can’t fucking stand pop culture blogs”, is probably the best tagline for any website since “PHCFYSB.”

• This just in: Winona Ryder is NOT dead. I repeat, NOT dead. Phew. Your Uncle Grambo spent about 20 minutes yesterday mourning her loss, glad she’s still with us.

• Your Uncle Grambo isn’t normally one to spend much time watching E! … Aside from Catt Sadler and “The Soup”, there’s nothing even remotely redeeming about the network. But thanks to The Senator, I’ve found myself watching “The Girls Next Door” on more than one occasion. I don’t know about you, but I’m of the opinion that Holly is quite the catch for an old cad like Hef. Well, it turns out she hasn’t always been the girl next door. Before plastic surgery, she was more like the hideous wretch down the street.

In closing, your Uncle Grambo would be lying if I said that I wasn’t missing The Blowout. In an email exchange last night, JTL put it best: “Go ahead. Tell me you miss it. The Molson sweats on the morning commute. The cable-knit sweater mouth as you go through your work day. The bulge of a crumpled-up Blowout lineup in your front pocket. The ‘Hamtramck Stumble.’ Go ahead.” You’re god damn right, I miss all of those things and more. After all, your Uncle Grambo has some very fond memories of Blowouts past. But just like it will for my beloved Betty Marie Best (who is rumoured to have moved to Chicago), a time will come for your Uncle Grambo later this evening in which I’ll be walking down some dark street, wishing it were Joseph Campau. At that point, the nostalgia will begin mixing with the booze and I’ll decide that it’s time to begin making my way back to Murray Hill. When the M15 drops me at home, I’ll fire up The Internerd™ and check out what Loftus has to say on The Metro Times Music Blahg. And what Jasper is raving about on WebVomit. And I’ll even fight off the slumber long enough to log onto Motor City Rocks, just to find out how many Molsons Big Matt drank that night. Have fun at The Blowout, kids. Your Uncle misses you tons. Pound a few for me.

¹Don’t worry, I had to look it up, too.
²He would later admit to this in the comments.

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