AmericanFerox Presents: Cloudburst Releasing

Today is a special day - I'm giving all my valued readers a look at a really great experience now available online.  Cloudburst Releasing specializes in the presentation of oft-unseen and unique films in a public online format through the LiveStream technology.  What makes this video viewing experience so unique is that it isn't just you sitting alone at your computer, but instead, it brings together all viewing into a chat applet to the side of the film.  So now you can talk during the movie and not be scolded.

The lineup for this particular channel is above excellent - starting off with a double feature of Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead on Monday.  If you are under eighteen, I would be advised: some of the upcoming programming might be shocking and inappropriate.  It sure isn't a kids channel, with Ilsa She-Wolf of the SS and Cannibal Holocaust on the list for public showing.

Until Monday, they are showing vintage zombie trailers as a lead up to their first two programs entitled "The Living Dead: Up All Night!"  And they just added monster and monster-comedy trailers to be featured in another program called "Ghouls 'n Ghosts: The Supernatural Comedy".

Please support this excellent group.  Embedded video for your viewing pleasure.  Oh, and did I mention that it is on 24/7?  Yeah, go watch now.  I know you have time.

MAKE SURE YOU TURN UP THE AUDIO BEFORE VIEWING

TT: Is Quentin Tarantino Still Relevant?

With Inglourious Basterds coming to theaters in a little over a month from now, our cinematic glances doesn't shift to Brad Pitt or Eli Roth, but instead the conversation turns to the director. Quentin Tarantino is a lightning rod within cinema circles, and nowadays, he's a bit more divisive than in previous years. With his latest output of Kill Bill and Death Proof, the question of where Tarantino fits in the landscape of contemporary American cinema. His upcoming film has already created a firestorm online, with some calling it an instant masterpiece and others saying its abysmal. In order to comprehend his relevance and importance in cinema, we first have to dissect how he has gotten to this point.

Quentin Tarantino is always reviled as the greatest 90’s independent cinema innovator, though most of his film rely heavily on influence. It is true that nothing is truly original in art, but when it comes to Tarantino, he is often cited for bringing a fresh new perspective to the 90’s film aesthetic despite bringing only storyline to the table when making his films. When one looks at his first commercial work, Reservoir Dogs, a seasoned film scholar can recognize the off-the-cuff violent surrealism of Sam Peckinpah. In his “masterpiece” Pulp Fiction, the non-sensationalized violence evokes the spirit of early Martin Scorsese while his accusatory camera heralds to Goodfellas. It can be argued that his epic Kill Bill films are almost completely homage, as they are practically just a 1970 ultra-violent samurai flicks, all the while Tarantino photographs the film like a spaghetti western in the vein of Sergio Leone. Even in his writing and producing credits, Tarantino is always looking to recreate the past, as he tried his shot at the action-horror style of Sam Raimi films in From Dusk Til’ Dawn, as well as Eli Roth’s pseudo-exploitation flick Hostel, which has its roots in the films of Ruggero Deodato and the Japanese Guinea Pig series.

Everyone knows and loves Pulp Fiction, but it is an illusion of a film. A good one, but it still is a flurry of expert scripting and breakthrough style. As a movie, it is scattered brained and definitely not anchored by any of the acting. Despite my issues with the film, it was a worldwide success both commercially and critically. Though with his 1997 follow-up to Pulp, audiences and critics were under whelmed by his jab at the blaxploitation genre in Jackie Brown. While the critical and box office response wasn’t as pure as Pulp’s, Tarantino’s third film is arguably his most personal and successful. Jackie Brown is a perfect representation of what Tarantino can accomplish with just the spirit of influence, as opposed to using it as a crutch. While the pop culture references are present in Brown, they do not overwhelm the picture to the point that you are recognizing and getting involved in the homage. This change of pace on Tarantino’s behalf makes this film a far-better viewing experience, as it strives to not just recreate favorite moments from the director’s most coveted pictures of his past, but to inject a 90’s sensibility into a genre that has since gone the way of the Dodo.

Where Jackie Brown differs from another Tarantino film like Kill Bill, is that Tarantino doesn’t inflate the genre he is emulating. In Kill Bill the over-influence is evident from the first bloody fight in the suburban household, but in Jackie Brown, we see the film’s obvious influence in the title sequence, and from then on there is rarely a moment that seems to overtly reference the blaxploitation genre. By incorporating very little within the film that screams 1970’s, the film becomes reflective of Tarantino’s own work. But alas, Brown's reception was less than enthusiastic, with many wanting another Pulp Fiction instead of actual growth. Brown inadvertently shows that even with a better story and a more polished set of characters, those in our culture only want Tarantino for his fast-talking dialogue and extreme violence. In essence, the film’s critical reception helps support the theory of the culture built by films like Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction: that if films of the 90’s and later are going to participate in pastiche, it must be of film’s of a violent nature.

Unfortunately, Tarantino was either shaken by the good-but-not-so-good reaction to Jackie Brown or was too lazy to compile another worthy script, as his work since then has been simple re-imaginings of his favorite films. Kill Bill: Volumes One and Two lacked a sense of purpose or necessity, yet the film community embraced both, mainly due to the kinetic style of the filmmaking, which really was just piecing together action sequences from Shogun Assassin and The Wild Bunch. His last project Grindhouse, which is was completed with his more adventurous friend Robert Rodriguez, is a throwback in essence to the exploitation films of the 1970’s, even interspersed with faux trailers for fictional exploitation films to flesh out the "grindhouse" experience. Tarantino has side-stepped pastiche and in the process has created a culture of not rediscovery, but of mockery. There no longer needs to be a purpose for a homage, it just needs to simply exist. Like Gus Van Sant’s shot-for-shot remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, the film community needs to ask itself if all of this work is truly necessary.

Quentin Tarantino’s work during the 1990’s is not meant to be dismissed – that would be irresponsible, but the film community needs recognize his first two films as empty commercials for the films by other directors. Jackie Brown is the prime example of Tarantino as a master of the post-modern, not Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction. Tarantino uses the genre of blaxploitation to setup the cultural background for the audience before they experience the film, and then reels them into a story that actually strives to say something about a then present culture. The late-90’s in America was a frightening time in retrospect because it was, on some levels, all success and no repercussions.

Relevance is becoming a worrisome topic for one of America's most beloved filmmakers. The industry is going through a sort of renaissance thanks to smaller movies getting better traction among general audiences (see: The Wrestler and Slumdog Millionaire), and bigger movies moving towards more coherent, rewarding stories (see: The Dark Knight and WALL-E), so one must ask if another Tarantino film like Death Proof would be enough to turn him from the golden child into yesterday's news. I personally have faith in Inglourious Basterds from the script and what I've seen so far, but clips and paper are never a great indicator of intention or quality.

So where will Inglourious Basterds fit in? Will it be another exercise in how many directors Tarantino can crib from in a two-hour runtime, or will he get back to personal cinematic growth? This can only be answered by viewing his newest work, but he leaves us hints in his last three pictures. There hasn't been a move towards legitimacy within those films, but instead, he has proved three times that he is a student of all cinema. We get that you love all the dregs of cinema, Quentin, but either get busy making worthy movies or push out some terrible schlock that someone can call their gold in thirty years.

SPECIAL: The 5 Most American Films

In honor of our Independence Day, American Ferox is doing its best "USA! USA!" by profiling the five most American films of all time. These aren't the best American films of all time ('cause that list would look like this: Dawn of the Dead, Schindler's List, Night of the Living Dead, Ghostbusters, and Boogie Nights), but the five films that most embody the American spirit. These films live and breathe what America stands for, but they don't always paint us in a great light. Some of these aren't ones that immediately come to mind when thinking of "patriotic" or "nationalistic" films, but to me, this is a tapestry of what being an American means.

05. Mr. Smith Goes To Washington


If one film reflected the can-do spirit of our worthy representatives, this is the film. Jimmy Stewart stars as Jefferson Smith, a handpicked stooge who turns into a champion of the people and the face of incorruptible American good. Our government is filled with profiteers and people willing to pervert our bedrock to make a few bucks, but every once in a while, you get a gem. The good sometimes is not as visible at first, but it is always there. Mr. Smith shows us that.

04. Forrest Gump


Yeah, I know. I've never understood the grimacing and the dismissive wank motions when the movie is mentioned, but whatever, fuck you guys. Forrest Gump is that cat's pajamas. Despite being an excellent Hollywood narrative and also making me cry three times during the whole thing, it also is the encapsulation of the American Dream. The story of a slow-man who somehow makes a path for himself in the world, influencing and inspiring those around him - just he does it several times on a national scale. Americana in its purest form.

03. Saving Private Ryan


Was your grandfather or relative in World War Two? If you said yes, then he's infinitely cooler and more badass than you will ever be. You know those guys with the barbed wire tattoos and the TapOut t-shirts? Pussies compared to the old guy down the street who fought on Iwo Jima or the veteran of the invasion of Normandy sitting next to you at the bus stop. These were regular Americans, united by a cause greater than anything anyone had ever witnessed, but they weren't super-soldiers - just Americans. Saving Private Ryan communicates the very American ideal that one life is worth a dozen more, and it really makes you appreciate all those men did during those horrific three years.

02. It's A Wonderful Life


It doesn't deal with politics or war, but this is a movie that is as American as apple pie. A staple of our cultural landscape, in the way that every Christmas, it just doesn't feel complete without a showing of It's A Wonderful Life. Love it or hate it, this movie is steeped in tradition and is essential in understanding the good that every American is capable of. The beautiful simplicity of the story, which deals with redemption in its flawless tone, is something that every American can relate too. Plus, it doesn't hurt that it looks like a Norman Rockwell painting every step of the way.

01. Red Dawn


WOLVERINES! C'mon, it does not get more gung-ho American than this 1984 classic. Some say its just teenage 80's schlock, others say it is right-wing propaganda, but I see a fun action-oriented flick that hits all the big American points. Patriotic? Hell yeah. Flexing military muscle? You bet. The average person rising up and being more than they are asked to be? You know it. But most of all, America is about choices and having fun - this is why we make movies. To feel better about ourselves and to create a fantasy. It just so happens to involve kicking some Communist ass.

FMR: Dawn of the Dead (George A. Romero, 1978, USA)

The one thing that I've always been a fan of is movie reviews. But since I'm not a huge fan of going to see a movie nowadays (read previous blog post if you are unsure), I guess that means I must review films seen elsewhere. On Friday mornings, I will be posting a film review to correspond with the traditional opening day for many movies in the United States, but they normally won't be of whatever comes out that weekend. For the inaugural post, I chose my absolute favorite film of all time: George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead.

Due to the success of the frightening 28 Days Later… and even the awful Dawn of the Dead remake, George A. Romero's relativity in the current horror landscape is at its most prominent since the 1970's. The creator of the modern zombie in 1968's Night of the Living Dead, Romero has made two entries in his Living Dead trilogy, 2005's Land of the Dead and 2008's Diary of the Dead, and with those successes comes renewed interest in his earlier work. Following Night of the Living Dead, Romero shot 1978's Dawn of the Dead and 1985's Day of the Dead, the latter not gaining as much praise as his first two, which seemed to take the wind out of Romero's proverbial zombie sails. The two most recent works in the Living Dead series certainly pale in comparison to his first three installments, but even a Romero not living up to his full potential is worth ten Texas Chainsaw Massacre remakes. While many continue to be entranced by his gritty debut feature, it is Dawn of the Dead that has inspired a cult following and many to suggest that it might be among the greatest films ever made. Let me add my name to that list right now: Dawn of the Dead is the greatest film ever made.

The film Romero produced on those cold nights in Monroeville, PA is not only relevant today, but also more than when it was released. The film takes place several years following Romero’s first Dead film, but one would not know it without background information on the entire trilogy. The film is designed to fit in with the series seamlessly, but without familiar characters, it can distance itself and attempt to be an entirely different film experience. At the end of Night of the Living Dead, it seemed as though the whole situation with the living dead was solved by a band of cops and rednecks. But in Dawn, Romero dives into the chaotic situation at a local television station with little disposition on the zombie holocaust occurring outside. The film starts out small, and remains that way throughout the running time. At its core, it is always about the plight and fight of the four central characters, who are simply trying to survive. Our group of survivors eventually make their escape via helicopter to a shopping mall, the film's most iconic location. There they attempt to clean house and set up a utopia where they could live for years. While the TV station may be little in comparison to the mall, the dramatic elements of the characters are always local and always intimate. The setting may grow over time, and it may increase in size, but it is always about Frannie, Peter, Roger, and Steven.

The one difference between Dawn of the Dead and other zombie films is that Romero treats his zombies fairly and does not use them as villains. The creator craftily creates the illusion throughout all three of his films that these “things” are not monsters but just a mirror image of our own society. They have families and friends, homes, children, and jobs just like all of us. The zombies in Romero films, in a way, represent the dystopia we understand but hurtle our populace at anyway. These “people” are not to be seen as alien creatures, but us without the ability to feel for another. But at the same time, they represent some of the more negative aspects of our culture, most notably the herd mentality that is fostered by excessive consumerism. They are just like us and, yes, they occasionally visit the mall.

Yes, the film is extremely bloody. Yes, there is a scene with a person's head exploding from a shotgun blast. Yes, those are real pig entrails. In complete seriousness, what truly makes this film so brilliant is not just the brutality of the image, but the complex nature of the inhumanity they paint. This isn't gore for gore's sake, but actually a tool to move the story along. To prove a point and to highlight the thematic worth of the picture. While most viewers would likely point to the physical brutality -- the arm-biting in the tenement building at the beginning of the film or the motorcycle massacre scene at the end – as the most disturbing elements of the film, it is the emotional and social viciousness that strikes the deepest. The scenes where our heroic band of outsiders fall victim to the consumer culture of the mall is by far the most devastating aspect of the film, fake intestines be damned. The four survivors devolve from their rebellious nature in the first half of the film into such a meaningless existence as they protect the mall as if it was another member of their team. The luxuries of the mall become more important to the protagonists than life itself. The true monsters in Dawn of the Dead are the living, and that is the most frightening truth of the film.

This tragic reality is just another diamond in the rough, which keeps distancing Dawn of the Dead from the mainstream and hurtling it forward into classic territory. Despite its notorious history as one of the most graphic narratives ever committed to film, it is one of the great American films of the past thirty years. The images in the film are unrelenting in gore and dismemberment, which accounts for most of its mainstream popularity, but it is also an intelligent satire on consumer culture and on horror films in general. The idea that stewed in director George A. Romero’s head grew into a monstrous exposé and, in the process, established the use of gore as a vital element in contemporary horror cinema. Romero’s understanding of human nature is quite surprising, as he is the creator of the modern zombie – a dead, lifeless, and emotionless entity.

TAN: The Fall of the Moviehouse

For the past several years, I've aspired to be a teacher, in some capacity or another. I can find ways to flex my teaching abilities in everyday life, whether it is at work or in my home - there is always someone willing to learn and I'm game to help them. I am also a film fanatic, so when I'm not being an uncredited teacher, I also spend moments writing screenplays and teaching myself about parts of cinema that most people never experience. Recently, I've been playing around with the art of film programming, which is under-appreciated in cinephile circles. I recently got a nice Epson projector from my girlfriend as an anniversary gift (yeah, I know, I have the world's best girlfriend), so I've been sitting at my computer and combing through my DVD collection trying to build outdoor film programs for this summer. There isn't any profit from my screenings, and the crowd is never beyond friends, but the thrill of being the programmer is still there. So maybe, this is where the fusion of my love of film and my desire to teach is found.

Now, does my film programming of, say, a night of Italian cannibal movies come close to the nuanced schedule of the New Beverly? No not at all, because the brilliance of the Alamo Drafthouse and the New Beverly Cinema is not that their just semi-revival moviehouses, but because they program the shit out of their lineups for every possible facet of the film fanatic culture. Both of these establishments appeal to different segments of the moviegoing population that are not fulfilled completely with the AMCs and Marcus Theatres of the world. It's not like I can walk down to the Ridge Cinema and see a reunion of the cast of The Monster Squad, but the Alamo Drafthouse did that two years ago. I can't stroll into my local mall-based multiplex and see a double feature of Isla: She-Wolf movies, but on July 10-11, you can partake in that at the New Beverly.

I am definitely a jealous person when it comes to movies, and I am sadly geographically-deprived in the film world. In Wisconsin, specifically Milwaukee, the most revival we get is the once-a-month midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Oriental Theatre. Our last bastion of uncorrupted programming was the Times Cinema, but that fell by the wayside with new ownership and the lack of an audience to watch their double features of Cary Grant. While our two "art house" cinemas show a plethora of new "indie" flicks each week, they are still part of the Landmark Theatres chain. They aren't actively programming for themselves, but instead they get sent prints because the higher-ups probably think that Away We Go will play well in Milwaukee, given the significant amount of advertising dollars thrown at it in this market. Programming at the Times Cinema changed when the new owners came in, who subsequently purchased the highly-overrated Rosebud Cinema Drafthouse. If I walked into the Times today, I would be seeing Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs. For a beautiful, almost eighty-year-old theatre, this is a tragedy, but a necessary one. I suppose I would rather see the marque lights on, no matter what is playing inside.

The greatest loss here is that of the moviehouse feel. I came of age when you lined up at a multiplex to see Star Wars or Independence Day, but even that has changed. Theatres now have reserved seating for an extra couple of bucks and food served directly to your seats, but the movies haven't gotten better. I watch a film like The Dark Knight and it doesn't give me the exhilaration that I got as a child when I first saw Jurassic Park. Staring up from our regular seating, being truly mesmerized by what was taking place on the silver screen. If I watched Jurassic Park today at the Marcus Theatres Majestic, I probably wouldn't have the same feeling pumping through my veins. Call it typical aging, but I believe it is much more than that. It was uncomfortable, inconvenient, and going to a movie was an all-night affair. Now, I can order my tickets online two days ahead of time, show up to the theatre and even have them valet my car, avoid human interaction by going to a ticket kiosk, buy a super-sized soda so I don't have to get up for a refill in the middle of Transformers 2, and arrive at my reserved seat, which happens to be perfectly in the exact middle, just as the trailers come up. If movie theatres are going under, I honestly can't wait, because I could have the exact same experience in the comfort of my own home. And that is what people do not cherish anymore - the experience of going out to a movie.

Take the Oriental Theatre in Milwaukee for example. If you live in the area, just go see a movie there once - it is unbelievable. For us in Milwaukee, we truly have a cinematic gem hidden away, and even though the programming sucks a bit more now, its great that people are going to see a movie like Star Trek in that setting, opposed to seeing it at a cookie-cutter AMC theatre. They have gone to great lengths to maintain the theatre as best they can, and it has the same appearance it had in 1927 when it opened. Ornate East Indian design and the beautiful staircase leading to the balcony - just thinking about it brings a smile to my face. This is a true-to-form movie palace, just now when you walk inside it, you have to project your own experience upon it because it just doesn't give you that feeling anymore. On the website for the Oriental, the writer describes the switch in programming from "short runs of classic and cult double features" because "video and cable TV again took away the customers." Personally, I think this is a lazy excuse and more motivated by money rather than the fact that people simply went to other mediums. There is honestly more money to be made showing a Public Enemies than there is showing a double feature of Martin and The Crazies. It really just boils down to how much money does a theatre owner need before they are happy. The New Beverly has survived for years because they haven't capitulated and continue to promote their unique format. People still go there in sell-out numbers to see movies that didn't sell-out once in their first run, so I have to ask Milwaukee theatre owners, especially the Times and Oriental, why haven't you adopted this format? Why don't you go back to your roots and see if you can rebuild what you have already destroyed?

I guess it might just be too late for Milwaukee. We have these movie palaces that are great to look at but house the same stuff I can get more comfortably at a national chain. The only thing I'm hoping for is a complete collapse of the movie theatre industry, and with the interesting business models that HDNet Movies and Steven Soderbergh are playing with, it might come sooner than you think. Once that happens, maybe these smaller art houses and regal movie palaces can go back to what they did best: reminding us of what going to a movie use to feel like, and not just being a box we sit for two hours while a director beats us into submission. Moviegoers shouldn't be subservient to the masters of the cinematic domain, but active participants in their own pleasure or pain. Think back to the last movie you watched in the theatre, and figure out how much you spent.

Don't ask if the movie was worth the money, but instead, whether the experience justified the cost.

TMJO: The Sweet Baby Jesus Is A Sasha Grey Fan

So, first blog post. Honestly, I have never been a huge writer, especially a daily one. I adore blogs, but I have resisted blogging. I think that there are far better writers with better topics going at it on the internet, but why not throw my hat into the ring?

Now, what will this blog be about? Most people pick one subject and stick with it. The more specific the blog, the more people view daily. I think that is the mathematics of blogging, but I really am not going to do only one thing. The area I'm most comfortable with is film, but you might see sports, current events, and maybe even politics. So if you stick around daily, you are probably here for my writing. Don't get too cozy because I could change it all.

So, I have been recently reading whatever Zak Smith (or Zak Sabbath, to those who know his work outside of fine art) musing I can find. I would love to read his book, We Did Porn, but all I can afford right now is that lame stuff like rent and light. Anyways, if you want a fun read, take five minutes and go through his feelings on Sasha Grey's appearance on the Tyra Banks Show a few years ago (I've cited the link at the end of my post). Strangely, my girlfriend is currently watching a repeat Tyra Banks Show that is featuring sex workers from the "famous" Bunny Ranch in Carson City, as well as a young girl auctioning off her virginity to the highest bidder at said whorehouse.

Picking on the inherent ridiculous nature of Ms. Banks' show is too easy. Her show is the height of daytime schlock, run by an egomaniacal she-bitch from hell, whose microphone melts into a pitchfork around minute fifty to lead her Ann Taylor-wearing mob of thirty-something women to destroy whatever poor soul is on stage. It is infuriating to watch so much stupidity on display, and to listen to a runway model tell a grown-woman that she doesn't know what self-respect is. Not even Oprah passes as much judgement as Tyra, and she's basically the sweet baby Jesus in biblical talk show land.

The one thing that struck me between reading Smith's essay and watching that horrific atrocity on television was that our culture is still a car-accident kind of culture. As much as Tyra Banks wants to preach about how women should feel about pornography and prostitution (which, I must add, have nothing to do with each other outside of the sex), she spends two minutes at the end of her show saying just that. For the first forty minutes, she grills the steely Sasha Grey about anal sex and puts poor, opportunistic whore-to-be Natalie next to her would-be suitor, who, of course, is a 59-year-old, lanky white-haired man who looks like "The Thing" from Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark (who, I might add, has not placed a winning bid, as her virginity is still very much for sale on the Bunny Ranch's website). We are ninety-five percent Faces of Death and five-percent Public Service Announcement, culturally speaking that is.

The coverage of Michael Jackson's death is a prime example of this, with the gossip headlines and the detailing of his tragic downfall filling hours of talking heads, except without the moral lesson we use to get from our news. The reason for news coverage is not just to inform but to teach. Somebody once said television was the biggest classroom (actually, I think Ralph Fiennes said that playing Charles Van Doren in Quiz Show, but whatever), but now our teacher is TMZ "reporters" and we aren't learning much. Television news has turned from highlighting important global lessons into just some shit you watch to see what freakshow-massacre happened today. After the King of Pop's death, CNN and E! have somehow melded into the same station. They both have scrolling bars at the bottom showing news they can't be bothered to report verbally, and they talk about virtually the same stuff. It is quite sad, but looking at things like the Tyra Banks Show, it does not surprise me in the least.

I normally don't like to point fingers at anyone, but...you, TMZ. You are to blame for the perpetuation of this mentality that has infected all forms of expression. TMZ has a lot to do with how recent news events like Jackson's death have been portrayed in the legitimate medium, starting before the world really knew the pop star was dead. That day, I remarked to my girlfriend how badly a certain anchor wanted to report him dead, as TMZ had pretty much guessed it from the onset. Cardiac arrest is typically a twenty-percent survival rate affair, so predicting his death was not a feat to be measured against Nostradamus. But that afternoon, this guy was alluding to TMZ and its post, salivating to be the first newsman to call a man, who most people didn't think about anymore, dead. And when a reputable news organization actually got a valid source, MSNBC suddenly turned into a Harvey Levin-esque office with better production values, complete with some buffoon yelling "LA Times says he's dead!" TMZ runs off of the Paris Hilton's of the world and they are trying to interject themselves into what can be seen as "actual news", and we should all be frightened.

These people are promoting the base stupidity we already get on daytime talk, but they have somehow trojan-horsed it into the one place we thought we were safe from gossip: prime-time news. We, as a society, don't want news interpreted for us, just reported. A 140-character Twitter from our favorite celebrity seems to be enough news for us, and we don't need Anderson Cooper telling us what constitutes legitimate news versus the trash sites like TMZ and Perez Hilton peddle. It is all talk and no discussion nowadays.

Everyone wants to be the first to see the accident, but no one wants to get out of their car and help.