I've posted a list of the panels I'm hosting at this year's Comic-Con International in San Diego.  Here it is.

The interview I did with Paul Harris on his splendid radio show earlier this week is now available for on-line listening on Paul's website.  Here's a link to a page with it and a number of vastly more interesting chats.

Just noticed: If you don't want to wait 'til next Monday to see Triumph the Insult Comic Dog abuse Star Wars fans, the complete video — it's ten and a half minutes, by the way — has been posted to several websites.  You can try this link or this link or this link or even this link.  One of those oughta work, at least for the next day or two.

I have a theory that God watches the monologues of the late night TV comedians and, every so often, he decides they're weak in subject matter.  It's like, "Hmm…Dave and Jay don't have much to talk about.  I'd better give them something."  If the material is really weak, he'll have a Congressman or even a President caught in a sex scandal.  If it's only so-so, he'll arrange something that offers less opportunity for jokes, like the President choking on a pretzel or Michael Jackson getting in trouble again.

And then, about once a week, he'll see that there's one news item that's so silly — so fraught with possibilities for humor — that it's good for at least 20 monologue jokes per comedian.  Here's this week's.  Watch and see if any of them can resist this.  (It's the first item…the one about the bras.)

I couldn't help it. I purchased and devoured John Dean's on-line e-book about Deep Throat (the informant, not the porn film) that is currently being hawked over at www.salon.com.  Dean originally announced he would reveal on June 17, the name of the secret source within the Nixon administration who abetted Woodward and Bernstein in their research.  When he said this, he intended to finger a man named Jonathan Rose who worked under Nixon, and who would have been Dean's third (at least) identification of the mysterious snitch.  He previously named Earl Silbert and Alexander Haig, then backed off on both.  On the way to those public announcements, he briefly believed it was Al Wong and several others.

This time, after he'd committed to a revelation on 6/17 but before it could happen, his target denied it, threatened to sue and convinced Dean he was wrong.  Stuck with the deadline and a book without a pay-off, Dean went ahead and, in this version, he proudly boasts that he has winnowed it down to several candidates and that one of them is absolutely, definitely, positively Deep Throat.  Maybe.

But it all made me realize what it is I find interesting about the search for Woodstein's famed tattletale; it's that it's a mystery that probably has an answer.  The reporters swear that there was a Deep Throat and that, when the person dies or releases them from their pledge of confidentiality, they will name him.  Having read dozens of articles and books in which learned men have analyzed the data and concluded that D.T. is definitely this guy or that guy, I think I'm less interested in the right answer than I am in who was wrong, and why.

Years ago, I spent many wasted hours/days/weeks/etc. reading up about the Kennedy assassination and watching as intelligent and wise individuals came logically and assuredly to wildly different conclusions.  Some of these folks were well-credentialed educators or experienced journalists — i,e., the kinds of people from whom we learn so much of what we "know" — and many penned essays that seemed to make absolute sense; that, taken in standalone fashion, seemed to nail down precisely how many dozens of shooters were on that grassy knoll or scurrying about in Oswald masks.  You could almost become convinced by some of them, but for the fact that there were other, equally-credible works that came to totally different conclusions.  (I especially loved the authors — and there were several — who came to finite, irrefutable conclusions about who killed J.F.K. and how it was done…and later authored other books saying it was someone else using a different plan.  And they would defend both books to the death, even though if A was right, B was wrong and vice-versa.)

But they could get away with that to a great extent because we were long past the stage when any assassination theory would or could ever be proven.  Today, if you came up with movie film of the shooter actually pulling the trigger, most folks would just say, "Aah, coming to light so late, it's gotta be fake," and press on with their old conspiracy theories.  I believe a lot of those who've written about the Kennedy killing have done so in full confidence that, no matter what silly thing they write, they'll never be proven wrong.

It's not quite that way with the Deep Throat Mystery.  Someday, I like to believe, Bernstein and Woodward will single out the guy.  And while a number of folks will loudly claim they're lying, no matter who they name, most of the world will probably accept it as final, especially if nothing about the person contradicts anything they said in the book of All the President's Men.  I'm interested in what all the wrong guessers will then say.  How did all those smart people get it so wrong?

John Dean is an extremely smart man.  I can't vouch for his ethics, especially back in his Nixonian days, but one of the reasons that administration went bye-bye was that Dean was a terrific witness.  When he testified, Republicans were poised to find the teensiest discrepancy in his testimony and use it to smear and discredit him.  If he'd said Nixon drank tea and it was actually coffee, you'd have had Howard Baker decrying, "If a man can't tell the difference between tea and coffee, we cannot take his word for anything, so I demand that his testimony be totally disregarded."  That Dean was so letter-perfect accurate — that he didn't make even the microscopic errors that any honest witness might make — is one of the reasons Gerald Ford got to be prez.

So here's this guy who knows Washington — at least during the Nixon era — as well as anyone.  He's very smart.  He's a lawyer.  And he keeps being wrong about who Deep Throat was.  After all the names he's tossed out, he may still be wrong.  Dozens of others, equally savvy, have been wrong…and if anyone turns out to be right, it may only be via the stopped-clock principle.  In the long run, I don't think it matters much who Deep Throat was, unless it turns out to be someone like Henry Kissinger.  I just think it's great that, for once, a public controversy is actually going to turn out to have a right answer.

I really enjoy Late Night With Conan O'Brien.  At times, I think it's the smartest, funniest show on TV.  I feel this at other times about other shows but Conan's often takes the lead, especially when the hand of Robert Smigel is in evidence.  Smigel is a writer and occasional performer who contributes in many ways, one of them being Triumph the Insult Comic Dog.  Recently, America's rudest hand puppet did a segment that was, like most of what he does, hysterical if one could get past its fundamental cruelty.  Triumph went to a Manhattan movie house where dedicated Star Wars fans were camped out to see the new release and "he" (Smigel, via the puppet) interviewed and unmercifully ridiculed them.

It was very, very nasty but — I'm almost ashamed to admit — very, very funny.  And this is an early TiVO ALERT (bwoop-bwoop) that the episode reruns next Monday night, June 24.  It's so funny they put it at the beginning of the show, spinning off from O'Brien's opening monologue.

Actually, since Conan starts at 12:35 in the morning in most time zones, this episode technically airs on Tuesday A.M..  This is a concept that seems to have eluded the makers of TiVos and VCRs that allow you to program a Monday-Friday recording pattern.  Late Night is actually on Tuesday through Saturday, as are all sorts of shows that air early in the morn.  You'd think they'd add this recording option, wouldn't you?

High on the list of Things Which Probably Didn't Need Doing, we find the notion of Neil Simon rewriting and updating The Odd Couple.  The play, originally done on Broadway in 1965, may well be the most-performed comedy of the 20th century with a good shot at a repeat in this one.  If Mr. Simon had passed away and someone else suggested a new version was in order, we'd stone the guy to death.  Nevertheless, this evening, I took in a performance of Oscar and Felix: A New Look at the Odd Couple, which opens this coming week in Westwood.

Press reports said that Simon had rewritten 75% or more of the play.  I didn't keep score but it felt more like 50% and I found myself wondering if, in the rehearsal period, some lines didn't get rolled back to their '65 versions.  For what it's worth, I felt that all the old stuff worked well…or will, once John Larroquette (who's playing Oscar) and Joe Regalbuto (as the other one) do more performances and find more ways to work the material.  Tonight, there were occasional moments when they seemed to be struggling to even remember it all — which, again, got me to wondering if rewrites weren't still in progress.  If so, they'd better hurry: The official opening is this Wednesday.

Some of what's new is merely updates or extensions of old lines.  Felix, for instance, no longer sends a suicide telegram.  Now, it's a suicide e-mail.  Oscar still offers the poker players their choice of green sandwiches and brown sandwiches but now the line is followed by one of them explaining he eats brown meat because, "My doctor told me to give up red meat."  (Don't worry.  I'm not giving away any more punchlines.)  A lot of it, I thought, was different but not better and about this, I have mixed feelings.  Changing one funny line to another funny line is a plus, in that we've all heard the old ones eight zillion times.  It's a minus in that we liked a lot of the old ones.  I did, anyway.  I sat there for much of the performance thinking, "That's not the next line…"  Perhaps, if you don't know the play by heart, this won't bother you.

Other changes: The British Pigeon Sisters have morphed into the Hispanic Costazuela Sisters (Maria Conchita Alonso and Alex Meneses), inheriting a lot of malaprops from the male Hispanic flight attendants who filled that function in Simon's earlier, "female version" of The Odd Couple.  The new ladies are very funny in a Jose Jiminez way, though somewhat more cartoony.  Other parts of the text deal a fraction more openly — and unnecessarily, I thought — with the notion that there's something a bit homosexual about two men living together, acting a teensy bit like each others' wives.  The closing moments, with Oscar and Felix making up after their big spat, are more serious, deeper and — I thought — vastly less effective.  If this version has a life beyond the Geffen Playhouse, I'm betting a lot of this changes further.

I didn't like either Larroquette or Regalbuto in the first scene but warmed to them as the evening progressed, possibly because they were improving.  I don't think either is ideally cast (Larroquette would probably make a better Felix) but they hit long stretches where they were as good as any Oscar/Felix combo I've seen…and I've seen a lot of them.  Peter Bonerz, by the way, directed and seems to have done a fine job.

In spite of all my reservations and quibbling, much about this play is bulletproof and a lot of the new lines are quite funny…so I had a very good time.  On the other hand, I think I would probably have had just as good a time if they'd done the old text with no update.

112 years ago today, Arthur Stanley Jefferson was born in Ulverston, England.  He eventually became a performer in British music hall revues, joined a troupe that toured America, decided to stay, changed his name to "Stan Laurel" and teamed up with a man named Oliver Norvell Hardy.  Your mileage may vary but I don't think any movie film has ever been exposed that contained more delight than the cinema antics of Laurel and Hardy.  There is something about seeing them that always makes me feel good.  Part of it is that they played charming, fascinating individuals, but part of it is just that they did what they did so well.  One of their film editors — a gent named Martin Bolger, who lived down the street from my folks' house — once said to me that nothing got into their films by accident.  They may have played two clueless babes but they always knew precisely what they were doing…and they did it just about as well as it could be done.  Happy birthday, Mr. Laurel.  Wherever you are.

For just shy of nine years, my longtime buddy Ken Gale has been broadcasting 'Nuff Said — America's only regular radio program devoted to comic books — over station WBAI in New York.  He's played host to everyone who's anyone in the field, and even a few of us who fall under the category of "anyone who's everyone."  But no longer.  Recently, the station reshuffled its line-up and 'Nuff Said was suddenly nowhere to be heard.

This may change.  The station, which is listener-supported — has received a number of complaints, though they could use more.  Ken has the particulars over on his new (change your bookmarks) website for the show, which is at www.comicbookradioshow.com.  While you're there, listen to some on-line audio of recent broadcasts and browse Ken's terrific guest list.  You will, like me, hope he gets this thing back on the air somewhere soon.

I have a request of any of you who have extensively browsed this site or who followed the column I used to write for the Comics Buyer's Guide, back before we parted company over — believe it or not — a penny a word.  As you probably know, TwoMorrows Publishing is about to bring out a paperback collection of some of those columns under the name Comic Books And Other Necessities of Life.

This week, I'm finalizing the list of which columns, and I'd welcome input.  The book will only cover those about comic book creation and collecting.  (I'm still looking for a publisher for a collection of show biz columns.)  Do you have a couple of favorites you think I'd be a lunkhead not to include?  They can be from those posted on this site but I'm more interested in whether you recall any from CBG that you'd like to see again or think others might enjoy.  I'm way too close to the forest to trust my own tastes.  If you have any thoughts, please send them my way in the next few days.  Thank you kindly.

Another moment of Show Biz History on the Game Show Network's rerunning of hoary but wonderful What's My Line? episodes.  Last night, they ran the broadcast of 3/5/67, which featured two mystery guests.  The first was Jacqueline Susann, authoress of the best-selling novel, Valley of the Dolls, which was (at that moment), "soon to be a major motion picture."  Her appearance was probably a trade-off; that is, the game show took her in order to also get the second mystery guest, Judy Garland.  Ms. Garland was then signed to play Helen Lawson in the movie — a humiliating role, some said, since the novel's ingenue (the role played in the film by Patty Duke) was partially based on Judy and her legendary struggles with drink and drugs.

Nevertheless, Garland accepted the part of the older singing star based sorta/kinda on Ethel Merman.  The night of 3/5, she was in New York to attend the wedding of her daughter Liza to singer Peter Allen — gosh, how could that marriage not have worked? — and was soon to begin filming Valley of the Dolls.

What's My Line? producer Mark Goodson later described that night's episode as the closest they ever came to invoking the emergency, no-mystery-guest procedure, which was for him to fill that function.  Garland showed up late for the live telecast, started drinking, then disappeared.  Panicked, Goodson donned his tuxedo and was literally standing in the wings, chalk in hand, ready to enter as the mystery guest when Judy suddenly appeared.  She was tipsy and Goodson briefly considered bumping her — but she barged on-stage and gave a performance that did little to counter anyone's image of her as unreliable and alcoholic.  Just before she exited, discussing the upcoming film, she quipped that her character was the only one in the book who didn't drink or take pills.  Ha-ha, very funny, what a great joke.

Less than two months after the game show appearance, Garland was fired from the movie after three days of non-productive filming.  She died a little over two years later.  It was, like the death of so many rock stars and folks like John Belushi, a death that surprised no one in the slightest.  I'm not sure if those are more or less tragic than the ones that no one saw coming…

Want to read an article about attempts to recover the 18-and-a-half minute gap on Nixon's White House tapes?  There's one this month in Wired Magazine and here's a link to the on-line version of it.  Forgive me for sounding excited about this — I'm really not, since I'm not expecting results — but it's one of the two lingering questions from the whole Watergate mess.  The other, of course, is the identity of the Woodward-Bernstein informant, Deep Throat, and that one will presumably be answered some day when the individual passes away…or, if all the suspects die and nothing's revealed, we'll know the reporters just made him up.

The tape gap has no guaranteed answer, and it probably won't change any minds about Nixon.  Still, it might shed an interesting new light on an unresolved piece of American history.  If they can unerase it, that is.

Cable modem's working again!  The folks at A.T.&T. Broadband, who were initially certain the problem was on my end, came to their senses and decided the problem was on their end.  What's more, they fixed it.  But I'll tell you…accessing the Internet via a telephone line…it was a hellish twenty-four hours there…

When he was a beginning actor, Stan Freberg did a number of odd roles.  He has a small but important part in Callaway Went Thataway, a lightweight 1951 comedy with Fred MacMurray, Howard Keel and Dorothy McGuire that runs early Friday morn on Turner Classic Movies.  (5 AM or 8 AM, depending on your time zone.)  The film was produced, written and/or directed by Norman Panama and Melvin Frank, who were responsible for — among other classics — the Li'l Abner Broadway show and movie.  It's most interesting for Freberg's brief appearance, a fine supporting performance by Jesse White and a brief cameo by Clark Gable.

Bill Maher is setting up a website at www.billmaher.tv to keep folks up to date on what's up with him.  Not much posted there yet but you might want to bookmark it and check in soon.

During Watergate, I was a major wallower.  One of my major regrets in life is that, the weekend of the Saturday Night Massacre when the story exploded, I was away at a comic book convention and therefore out of touch with reality.  But I read all the books, watched all the documentaries and even once had lunch with Chuck Colson.  (This was after he'd been "born again," long after the days when, he said, he'd run over his grandmother to get Richard Nixon re-elected.)

Unlike those who sought the appearance of fairness by saying, "I think Nixon was a good president who did bad things," I decided he was a bad president who did bad things with, of course, a few notable exceptions.  But he was never not interesting…so I watched with relish, a few years after his resignation, when David Frost conducted a series of televised interviews.  Frost was a good, take-no-crap interviewer…though even he had trouble getting anything of substance out of the ex-president.  Initially, Frost was shrewd enough to insist on over-taping — recording three or four times as much conversation as they'd need, so he could edit out all the stonewalling and red herrings.

Once the sessions began, he found he'd underestimated: Nixon could rattle on about dozens of extraneous topics, running out the clock without addressing the essence of Frost's questions.  After a day or three of this, Frost had to go in and renegotiate the taping schedule.  He demanded more hours of interviewing time.  Nixon refused.  Frost and his staff sat down and figured out the topics that Nixon most wanted to discuss and have included in his "television memoirs" and said, in effect, "Well, then we'll have to skip those areas."  Outmaneuvered, Nixon gave in and granted the extra hours…and the final interviews were truly riveting.

David Frost, who is now Sir David Frost, has recently done a re-edit of the interviews to yield ten hours.  Much of the material was not included in the original broadcasts but it's in the shows which will begin airing next week (June 17) on The Discovery Civilization Channel.  The first two hours air repeatedly that day and the next, to be followed by more a few weeks later.  I intend to TiVo them all.

In the meantime, technicians are working away on #342 of the famed Nixon tapes, attempting to use new technology to recover the audio from the legendary 18-and-a-half minute gap.  The tape in question was made June 20, 1972, just three days after the Watergate break-in — the first time Nixon discussed the matter with his Chief of Staff, H.R. Haldeman.  Nixon denied he'd erased that section of the tape — a denial that no one ever believed.  I'm skeptical that they can "unerase" the conversation but, if they can, it will be fascinating in one way if it's incriminating and fascinating in another way if it's not.  Even years after his death, Nixon can still fascinate.

I am admonished via e-mail for omitting the best anecdote about the Nixon-Frost interviews.  The sessions were taped in a private home (not Nixon's) in San Clemente and, one Monday morning, one of Nixon's advisors suggested to him that he was not being friendly enough with the guys who operated the cameras and ran the audio equipment.  Nixon, trying to show he was "one of the boys," wandered onto the set, went up to Frost and asked, so the whole crew could hear, "Well, David…did you do any fornicating this weekend?"

The story always reminded me of a certain TV star I met in the seventies who was an enormously uptight fellow, utterly obsessed with whether his tie was crooked or he was smiling too much.  You know the type: Utterly paranoid about every word, every gesture…and wholly unable to just talk to others like human beings.  Someone had told him, I guess, that he was coming across too uptight and that the way to establish a rapport with the crew on his show was to tell dirty jokes.  Dirty jokes did not come naturally to this man so (his stage manager told me) he delegated his assistant to dig some up and, each tape day before he came down to the set, he'd memorize one to tell the camera guys and grips.  We were waiting for taping to begin when the stage manager explained this to me and added, "Watch how he'll stumble over the dirty words."

Sure enough, when the star arrived on the set, he gathered a batch of staffers together…waiting until they were all there, so he only had to tell it once.  Then, displaying none of the professional ease he could muster on-camera, he told an utterly sexless dirty joke — the kind of dirty joke that's only a dirty joke because it has the "f" word in it.  And it might have been okay if he could have said the word but he couldn't.  He stammered on it and added about six "f's" to the beginning.

The crew laughed, more at his unease and to be polite, than at the joke.  Then everyone dispersed and the star untensed, since he had finished the part of his job he most dreaded and now only had to go out and appear before millions.  I told the stage manager the anecdote about Nixon and Frost and asked him how often he'd worked on shows where visiting dignitaries attempted such awkward small talk.  He said, "All the time.  Every guy who ever ran for president in the last two decades has been on a show I stage-managed.  Half of them have been like [our star] who is totally phony about communicating with 'the little people' and half have been regular guys who talked to us like real human beings…

I asked him, "So, do you vote for the guys who come off as real human beings?"

He said, "No, I vote for the ones who strike me as phonies.  I figure, in politics, they're all phonies.  And you're safer with the ones who aren't as good at it."  Maybe that explains the success of Richard Milhous Nixon.