Salon: “And instead of playing the peace-loving Christian, Gibson is swatting at critics, real and imagined. Of New York Times writer Frank Rich, Gibson admits to having said, ‘I wanted to kill him. I want his intestines on a stick. I want to kill his dog.'”

And that’s not all, kids:

Sawyer: You said, “The Holy Ghost was working through me.”

Gibson: I’ve received a lot of ridicule for that statement. I think that the Holy Ghost is real. I believe that he’s looking favorably on this film and he wanted to help.

Proclaiming himself “somewhere between Howard Stern and Saint Francis of Assisi on the scale of morality,” Gibson also seems creepily preoccupied with evil, both apparently in the focus of his film and in his current situation.

Sawyer: You said at one point, “The big dark force didn’t want us to make this film.”

Gibson: Sure.

Sawyer: What was the force?

Gibson: What was the force? It’s the thing you can’t see. I’m a believer, by the way. So if you believe, you believe that there are big realms of good and evil, and they’re slugging it out.

(via A.O.)

Ro Sham Bo in lit: Unfortunately, the article stops just as it begins to reveal something.

McSweeney’s vs. Partisan Review/Agni: guess who gets more coverage.

The Book Babes are so absurd that I’ve decided to start addressing their columns on an equally absurd first-name basis. This week, they weigh in on the Amazon brouhaha, with predictably vapid results:

“How are readers supposed to trust reviews if they don’t know who the reviewers are and what their biases might be?” Absolutely, Margo. So why not cough up your own biases up right now and explain why you allowed Norman Mailer to get away with that ridiculous New Journalism claim a few weeks ago? Or why you and Ellen didn’t press Keller further? Or how you both remain silent over the pre-NYTBR regime change’s move to non-fiction? You two think you’re covering the book scene?

“Everybody is entitled to an opinion.” Everybody’s entitled to an informed opinion with a reasonable argument, Ellen. And confessing your love for a has-been as tripe-heavy and WASP-blindsided as Anne Tyler suggests to me that you might be unqualified to review literature.

Janet Maslin demonstrates how you can write a redundant-laden lead about nothing: “The history of Texas would seem to be a natural subject for the popular historian H. W. Brands. For one thing, Mr. Brands, biographer of Theodore Roosevelt and Benjamin Franklin, is a professor at Texas A&M University. For another, the much-vaunted wildness and wooliness of Texas’ story would seem to lend itself to Mr. Brands’s accessible, personable approach.” That’s three mentions of Texas in three sentences and more adjectives than you can shove onto a Hometown Buffet plate. Hasn’t Maslin learned anything from Twain?

The Daily Californian has a modest Octavia Butler profile up. Apparently, Butler’s working on a vampire novel.

Who needs the amateurism of Writer’s Digest when you can hear the same obvious swill for free from romance novelist Debbie Macomber? Before her writing ritual, Debbie reads the Bible and devotionals. And of course, Debbie’s convinced that women aren’t interested in steamy sex scenes (and, as she states, what does she know about sex being married?). Yes, kids, Debbie’s that best-selling romance novelist that you can read in the break room without embarassment. Sexed up trash? What are you thinking? Pick up Debbie Macomber tomorrow. Remember, kids: a Debbie Macomber “airport novel” purchased from a Barnes & Noble is a purchase for America! You too can turn your head away from reasonable standards and become a published romance novelist!

“Tilda! The real Tilda! Tilda and her beautiful voice! The real Tilda and I meeting in a gay bar! Tilda! Tilda! Movie-life and real-life often do not bear any resemblance to one another, but Tilda!”

Don Kleine — quirkyalone professor? I hope not.

Kevin Smith’s on tap to write and direct The Green Hornet.

No less than four recently published books agree upon the notion of an “American empire.” And in the first half of 2004, 25 books critical of Bush will be published by commercial houses. Yee haw! It’s beginning to look like 1968 again, isn’t it?

Sarah Jacobson has passed on. She died last night. She was only 32. Cinetrix points to this forum for those as bummed out about this news as I am. And if you’re lucky enough to be in the East Village, tonight, there’s a screening of all her films at the Two Boots Pioneer Theater. Words fail me.