HollywoodIdiocy.com

Watch out, suppliers of golf apparel ladies and men enjoy; if you happen to advertise on Fox News, the ultra-libs have you in their gun-sights. That’s right, MoveOn.org is out to scare advertisers into not promoting their products on the most-watched cable news channel on the market today.

Yeah, that makes sense. Avoid an audience that might buy what you’re selling. Because so many drug-addled hippies buy so many golf memberships, golf supplies and golf apparel. And yeah, the future-hippies rotting their brains on MTV are SO your target-market.

Liberals used to criticize conservatives who tried to boycott programming they didn’t like, appreciate or agree with. But the “D” in Democratic Party has always stood for “double-standard,” and now that Fox News is in their sights, all bets are off and boycotts are OK again … at least when liberals do them.

Hollywood loves celebrity, it has been written, and the only thing they love more than building one up is tearing them down again. Enter evidence exhibit number P-1250521: Lindsey Lohan.

While the young actress’ career is not well-served by her latest film, the ridiculous and poorly-made “I Know Who Killed Me,” having Hollywood Reporter movie reviewer Michael Rechtshaffen call it “the worst film of the year” is unnecessary overkill. It’s like calling “Gilligan’s Island” a silly, stupid comedy. Or calling Simon Cowell, “a bit rude.” Is it even necessary?

And yet, while all of Hollywood sighs and moans and grieves the “60, no wait, 30, no wait not even quite 20″ days in jail served by Paris Hilton, who for whatever reason they still like, Lohan’s private life foibles - not altogether all that different from Ms. Hilton’s - have incurred their wrath. Or at least Rechtshaffen’s.

Lohan showed promise earlier in her career, making a name for herself by doing a respectable job with two much-loved Disney films of yesteryear: THE PARENT TRAP and FREAKY FRIDAY.

While she’s made increasingly bad career choices since then, it seems it’s her personal life, which includes rumors of alcoholism and promiscuity far younger than it was probably based in any true events. And so, now everything she does must be criticized with particular venom.

Put it this way: the year’s not even half over. Even Hollywood sites that revel in showing off the worst in Hollywood prefer to save the “stinker of the year” moniker until all the candidate films are known, and then usually don’t apply it to something as clearly B-Grade as “I Know Who Killed Me,” but apply it instead to some bigger-budget flick with larger stars, that seemed to be reaching for an Oscar only to fall flat on its pretentious face.

Kind of like Rechtshaffen did with his overly and unnecessarily cruel review - which critiques not so much the film, but Lohan herself. Personally.

Makes one wonder if the reviewer liked setting wounded flies ablaze with a magnifying glass on sunny days, as a kid, also. Or tossing squirrels into an outdoor fireplace.

Not to say he did any of those things. But his cruelty doesn’t exactly exclude the possibility, now, does it? Hollywood Idiocy hereby prematurely declares Michael Rechtshaffen the worst movie reviewer of all time.

How ya like them apples, Mikey?

Sometimes I wonder if TV producers today have their brains on a diet patch regimen. That’s about the only way producers of ABC’s forthcoming sitcom, “Cavemen,” could be interpreted as not being a metaphor for racial integration.

Yet that’s the claim producers Mike Schiff, Will Speck, Josh Gordon, and Joe Lawson were making to the press this week as the media reacted to a first-blush take on the pilot episode; the episode has been ordered to be re-shot based on the network’s feeling that the series starts too late in the cultural integration process of the cavemen into modern society.

Based on the popular Geico commercials, the racial metaphor has been present ever since Speck, Gordon and Lawson came up with the campaign; yet they seem willfully unaware of the obvious.

The series of commercials have always featured militant, offended cavemen, put off by Geico’s Cro-Magnon-insensitive slogan, “Geico. So simple, even a caveman could do it.” If that’s not a stereotype of race relations over the past 40 years in the US, nothing is.

Of course, the tricky part would be admitting it. If the producers were caught admitting the forthcoming show is a metaphor for, say, the African-American experience, then every time they wanted to have one of their characters do something silly and caveman-like, like bop a spouse over the head with a club, the network would be flooded with calls from offended racial leaders like Jesse Jackson, claiming them show negatively portrays black men and the black American experience through the show.

Newsflash, guys: Jackson, Sharpton and company are probably already lining up to Imus you anyway. At least show you’re intelligent enough to recognize the metaphor potential of your show, since you’re bound to be under fire anyway.

Idiocy on parade…

Here, as Bill O’Reilly might say, is the most ridiculous item of the day.

At a recent concert in London, liberal diva for the ages, Barbra Streisand, held an audience at ransom for £600 a head. That’s roughly $1,230 US dollars.

And even after all that, the Algorian global warming disciple couldn’t even be bothered to take the stage on time, according to ThisIsLondon.co.uk.

That £600 is no small amount. In the UK, that is the rough price of a Sony PlayStation 3 … which will last a lot longer than the concert, although Babs’ endless farewell tour may just outlast it.

Of course, even British libs slobber all over themselves once the diva of all divas opens her aging mouth and croaks out a few notes. Truth is, she hasn’t been The Voice for ages; Celine Dion outperformed her at the Oscars years ago and has never looked back. Of course, Ms. Dion then went on to grow an ego of Babs-sized proportions all on her own.

Of course, neither are my style. I may be 40, but I’d much rather listen to Seattle native Brandi Carlile than either of them, any day. Or Jewel. Hell, in a pinch, I’d even prefer Pink wearing a pair of Air Jordan shoes over hear ears to those two. Get the message?

He’s many things to many people, our Tom Cruise. A film heartthrob. A huge, bankable star. A cultural icon who changes wives every decade or so. Katie Holmes’ cradle-robbing husband. Mentally and emotionally unstable. Nutty religious fanatic. Brooke Shields’ personal nightmare.

And now, trying to win back some credibility in the eyes of a disillusioned public, a Nazi-hater, to boot. Way to shoot fish in a barrel, Tom!

Mr. Cruise’s new movie is the Bryan Singer-directed Valkyrie, which casts Cruise in the role of German national hero Count Claus Schenk von Stauffenberg, the brains behind the failed plot to kill Hitler.

What an ingenious plan! Get people to like off-his-rocker Cruise by having him hate someone absolutely no one this side of Mahmoud Ahmadinijad has expressed even the slightest sympathy for in the last 60 years or so. (Not that anyone should… thus the “shooting fish in a barrel” comment.)

A better script choice might have been for Cruise to do the Ricky-Bobby role in Will Ferrell’s recent smash hit, The Ballad of Ricky-Bobby. Having Cruise recall his Days of Thunder years in a silly comedy, hanging around with the NASCAR crowd and finding joy in auto accessories might have been just the ticket to win fans back.

Or better yet, if Cruise really wants to show the world he’s not off his rocker, have him star in an epic film about Sigmund Freud, the father of modern psychiatry, that points Freud in a favorable light.

Now that would prove something.

Worse than his showdown with the Half-Blood Prince or the Deathly Hallows, the biggest challenge facing Harry Potter is the publication this weekend of the final book in the seven-book series by J.K. Rowling. For the first five Harry Potter films adapted from the series, fans have had the mystery of not knowing how all their favorite characters will end up, in the end.

That ends this weekend. With the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, all guessing games come to an end. It will be there in print for everyone to read. Will Harry, Ron and Hermoinie live? Or die? Is Snape ultimately good, or is he in league with Valdemort?

All the answers - or at least, all the answers Potter fans are ever going to get - will be known just as soon as the fastest reader can skim through the book this weekend. Unless, of course, they are lazy journalists who’ll flip to the last chapter or so and write up a news story that spoils the fun for everyone.

While millions of readers may be locking themselves away from TV, radio and Internet from the moment they pick up the book until they finish reading the last page, Potter’s movie-goer fans are in for a much longer wait; isolation for the next 2-3 years is simply not a realistic option.

Imagine the horrors Warner Brothers is facing. Almost 2-3 years before they release the book version of Deathly Hallows on the world, wrapping up the acting stints of Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint on the series, fans worldwide will know how the last film is to end.

Because of the finality of the seventh book, keeping a clamp on spoilers is a bigger concern than ever before. If, for example, Harry … or one of the other “big three” characters … does die, consider the impact such foreknowledge might have on the box office receipts of the last two films.

There will always be a core of Potter fans who will faithfully attend the final two movies; but what about the rest? Can the more casual fans keep up their enthusiasm if it becomes confirmed that Harry or someone else dies in the end?

It doesn’t take financial reporting software to figure out that Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix might be the last “huge box office” outing for Harry, Hermoinie and Ron. If one of those big three die in the last book, the more casual Potter fans may skip Half-Blood Prince altogether, though they may return for the movie adaptation of the death of a major character (or two… or “more than two,” as Ms. Rowling is fond of saying).

That would mean a box office nightmare for Warner Brothers. Don’t be surprised to see some studio exec insist that the film version, “won’t have the same ending as the book.” Another Idiot move, that…

If dismissed The View hostess Rosie O’Donnell had had her way, octogenarian The Price Is Right viewers would have been future-shocked into the decadence of the 21st century by the bawdy, loud, over-the-top comic.

In her self-serving blog, Rosie admits she wanted to “gay up” The Price is Right. One of her ideas was to replace The Price Is Right girls with some Chippendale-style male prize presenters. Hmm. Lesbian hostess “gays up” a show by … firing females and hiring males? Just what kind of lesbianism is that?

O’Donnell rationalizes endlessly in her rant, saying, “In the end, they turned me down because CBS thought I was too controversial, which wouldn’t have been the case …I just wanted to ‘gay it up.’ I wasn’t going to give away a TV set and rant, ‘So you can watch George Bush and Dick Cheney lie to America on it!’”

But Rosie isn’t heading to Destination: Vacation Home Orlando just yet. Her next gig, according to several media reports, is an extended run on FX’s Nip/Tuck.

Maybe if the Nip/Tuck docs do their job right, they’ll extend the outspoken liberal’s life by 20 years by getting her down to a healthy size. But, uh… it would be unkind to hope otherwise.

One can always count on Rosie to fill the pages of Hollywood Idiocy on a slow news day…

Name the last meteorological genius known as much for her open tip bras as for her scientific acumen. Go ahead, think. I’ll wait.

The answer is, apparently, Madonna. Not only has the former Detroit pop princess dropped her Midwestern nasal voice for a fake British accent, but the vocalist who could be Gwen Stefani’s mom now wants us to believe that she knows more about future climate change than, say, our beloved Twin Cities meteorologist, Dave Dahl.

That’s about all I got out of the few minutes of Al Gore’s global warming Kool-Aid concert that I could stomach. (Of course, the Jonestown massacre reference is probably lost on anyone under 40.)

So, while the sexbot-mom, Madonna, plots new ways to offend the Vatican during her next concert tour, remember, you don’t need a scientific Ph.D. to predict climate change impacts. In fact, it’s better if you have no scientific background at all, just like Algore and Madonna.

One final pitch: Instead of Algore Convenient Falsehood, try watching - at least once, if for no other purpose than for pennance after watching Live Aid - try watching the BBC documentary, “The Great Global Warming Swindle.”

You’ll never look at Algore (or any other invertabrit) the same way again!