Herc lays out a convincing rap against Kevin Williamson:

I’ll never get why screenwriter Kevin Williamson got to have that big career. Wasn’t “Scream” a whole lot of nothing? Wasn’t “Scream 2” a whole lot more of the same? Didn’t “I Know What You Did Last Summer” suck? Wasn’t “Dawson’s Creek” a nonstop chunk of nonsense? Didn’t “Teaching Mrs. Tingle” supersuck? Didn’t “Wasteland” suck? Didn’t “Glory Days” suck? Didn’t “Cursed” suck?

Those who go into The CW’s dim, pretentious “Hidden Palms” with the lowest of expectations – as I did – may still find themselves thoroughly underwhelmed. The key problem is 42-year-old millionaire Williamson is a not-funny guy who continues to believe he knows how to write funny teens.

Ouch.

Paul Mirengoff has started following college lacrosse and now laments that that the game’s popularity is expanding at the high school level, but that more college teams aren’t being added because of Title IX:

As the Post also notes, however, the game is not expanding at the college level. Despite high school talent that is probably at least twice as deep as it was 10 or 20 years ago, the number of college men’s lacrosse program has remained basically the same.

The Post doesn’t explore the reasons for this, but Title IX must be the main culprit.

Galley Brother and lax superstar B.J. could probably evaluate this better than I can, but let me take a stab anyway.

Title IX is an abomination and should be taken off the books. That said, I’m not sure it’s responsible for the lack of growth in college lax programs because while the number of Div. I programs hasn’t grown significantly over the last 20 years, the number of serious Div. I programs has exploded.

Ten of fifteen years ago, nearly every Div. I lax program was in the national Top 25 because there weren’t that many of them (I’m not going to look up the number because it’s not essential to the argument). And within that Top 25, there were only really two or three serious programs: Syracuse, Johns Hopkins, and depending on the year, either Princeton or Maryland.

If you were even a moderately competent high school player, you could get a spot on whoever the 17th ranked team in the country was (Hofstra, maybe, or Delaware). There was no depth in the college game. There was no other Div. I varsity sport where you could be a mediocre player and still find a roster spot on a school somewhere.

But in recent years, as more and more high school kids have started to play lax, you’ve seen more and more Div. I programs become serious teams that can realistically compete at the championship level: Loyola, Duke, Georgetown, UNC, Navy, Notre Dame, Cornell, UVA, UMBC. Heck, this year Albany was a contender and Delaware went to the Final Four!

Since this is the first time that there’s been enough talent to spread to more than two or three schools, I’d argue that college lacrosse is only just now becoming a normal, healthy varsity sport (instead of an exaggerated club activity). That’s good for the game. And I think you could argue that, for now, there isn’t any reason why there should be an explosion of varsity programs at the college level.

I’m late to the news that Charles Nelson Reilly died last Friday. He was one of those strange Hollywood talents. My favorite memory of him is from the Jose Cheung episodes of X-Files, but I’m always thrilled to see him on Match Game re-runs.

I’d like to think that Rip Taylor tossed some confetti for CNR this weeekend.

Pajiba has a fabulous eulogy for Veronica Mars, a show which snuck up into my list of all-time great hour-long dramas. They’ve got the perfect descriptive praise of the writing:

But the thing that hits me a moment before everything else is always the story itself. There’s a graceful kind of math to well-done structure, when characters are pulled apart or pushed together or sent sailing by each other in the night by the impassive hand of fate.

Dead on. All praise Rob Thomas and his writers.

Also, Awesome Dan Carlson has a partial list of great Mars lines. One of my favorites:

Veronica: You’re patronizing me?
Keith: To be fair, I am your patron.

Sports Illustrated has a story on it. That’s something.

Egged on by Galley Brother B.J.’s conjecture about the impending death of Mrs. Weasely, Galley Friend and Harry Potter Super Fan K.S. sends in this giant, super-crazy, and oddly persuasive theory: That Professor Minerva McGonagall is a traitor!

Read on, if you dare:

Here’s where I dork out on HP and my McGonagall theory. Throughout the books, Dumbledore says that he trust Snape. But Minerva slides under our radar: She’s just present enough to be likeable (a crotchety old maid, so to speak) and there are things that could be clues scattered throughout the series. I’ll start at the beginning. Page cites are to softcover U.S. for Books 1-3, hardcover U.S. for books 4-6.

* In Book 1, before we even meet Harry for the first time, she is waiting–as a cat–at the Dursleys. She is surprised, ruffled, to see Dumbledore at the Dursleys, and did not know he’d recognize her as a cat. So, why was she there? How did she, of all people, know that Harry was going to his uncle’s, and she questions Dumbledore about whether Voldemort is really gone. P. 9-11.

Remember also her reaction to the celebrations of Voldemort’s death: she’s cold, sharp, and angry. These are odd reactions, no? And she finds it “astounding” that Voldemort couldn’t kill a little boy and wants to know how. P. 12.

Was she there to intercept Hagrid? Did she know about–and seek to stop–the protection of Harry’s mother’s family? Another thought: How old is McGonagall? We know she’s quite old–older than Sirius/Snape/the Potters/Lupin. In a 2000 interview, J.K. Rowling says that McGonagall “is a sprightly 70” and that Wizards have a much longer life expectancy than Muggles. (2000 scholastic chat). Doesn’t that put her at school about the same time as Riddle? (Wikipedia says she was born in 1925). And couldn’t we see her as the Gryffindor Prefect at the same time he was the Slytherin Prefect?

Also, recall that she is the one who makes Harry a Seeker–and directly puts him into the line of danger when Quirrel tries to jinx his broom. Isn’t it interesting that one of the most rigid and rule-following characters in the book (she won’t let him go to Hogwarts w/o a permission slip in Book 5, for example), is so quick to break the rules to set up Harry in what could be seen as an “accident”? Recall her reaction when Harry and Ron tell her about the Philosopher’s Stone? She reacts with “suspicion and shock”. Also, why would she be the one to send him the broomstick? Isn’t that kind of weird–she would have known that he had money from his parents, no?

Also, also, recall that the chess game–McGonagall’s protection for the stone–was intact when they got to it–and they left it shambles. How did Quirrell get past it? Finally, I’m fascinated by Quirrell’s reaction when Harry confronts him. He says “Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat.” Is that JRK’s way of telling us that Snape is a red herring?

In Book 2, she’s the one who finds the final message that says Ginny was taken into the Chamber, and tries to close the school. P. 293. Then, she says “weakly” that they’d all like to know how Harry and Ginny get out of the chamber and probes repeatedly for the answer. P. 327-328.

* In Book 3, McGonagall is mysteriously absent from the scene after Peter Pettigrew escapes. And she “goes white” when she says she “never speaks ill of her colleagues”–is she talking just about Trelawney there? (or even if she is, does she recall the prophecy)? P. 109. Moreover, doesn’t she call Voldemort “the Dark Lord” when she takes Harry’s new broom (a gift from Sirius) away from him? Harry later notes that only the Death Eaters call him that.

In Book 4, who is with Barty Crouch Jr. when the Dementor administers the kiss? McGonagall (and Cornelius Fudge). We know Dumbledore didn’t want this to happen – why wouldn’t his second in command, McGonagall, stop it? Also, recall that Voldemort says his “most faithful servant” was at Hogwart’s. Is that Crouch? Too easy, I think. Sure, he’s important in Book 4, but the story arc for him is short. Perhaps I’m too quick to dismiss the obvious, but I don’t think it’s him. Snape? I don’t think so, because there are references in Book 6 to him having to go back to Voldemort after the hubbub dies down to sort out his role–he tells Narcissa and Bellatrix about this at Spinner’s End. So at the point Voldemort says this, he didn’t know Snape was coming back to him. So there must be another spy at Hogwarts. (At that point, Wormtail has already returned.) Note also that when Harry returns from the graveyard, McGonagall is one of the people trying to yank Harry away to the hospital wing. We know that it turns out badly when Crouch/Moody takes him away. Is it important that McGonagall has tried to do the same thing?

*In Book 5, McGonagall tells Harry about the importance of “keeping your head down and your temper under control”. P. 249, 319.

When she’s stunned by the ministry, which side is she on? P. 723-24. Note, however, that this is a hole in the McGonagall-as-spy theory: getting yourself stunned is not likely to be a stellar moment for a spy. And she’s nowhere near the Ministry during the fight. Note also her response to Umbridge on how long she’s been teaching at Howarts–doesn’t that track fairly closely with the number of years since Riddle was there? I think that might (though I’ve not run the numbers exactly) help confirm she was at Hogwarts during the time Riddle was a student. Also, I feel like I remember that Madam Pomfrey somewhere in here comments on McGonagall’s dueling prowess back during the day, but can’t find the cite to it.

*In Book 6, Mcgonagall also digs for info when Katie Bell is cursed, and immediately dismisses Harry’s Malfoy theory. P. 253-55.

As we know from later on, Malfoy is the one who started that curse–using the necklace from B&B. So McGonagall has–whether deliberately or unintentionally–thrown them off the track. Unless, of course, someone else has helped Malfoy. . . We know that Malfoy tells Snape the night of Slug’s Xmas party that he has “other people” “better” than Goyle and Crabbe on his side. Next, after Dumbledore’s death, McGonagall comes into the ward where Bill is. Harry tells her “Snape killed Dumbledore. ” She says “Snape. We all wondered . . . But he trusted . . . always . . . Snape . . .” P. 615

Keep reading that passage and the next–it makes sense both with Dumbledore as “he” and Voldemort as “he.” And, though McGonagall confesses she sent Flitwick to get Snape, she rather bizarrely can’t recall the details of how he joined in the fight, and she recounts her tale “distractedly” P. 117. Isn’t it an odd time not to remember what happened?

She is “curt” when saying Dumbledore would have been happier to think there is more love in the world. P. 624.

And then she tries to pry the info out of Harry about what happened, but he won’t tell him anything in return. And she immediately suggests closing the school. P. 626-627.

Given the story arc, I think it’s clear there has to have been a spy at Hogwarts and/or in the OoP. Snape’s the easy answer: hate the guy who is mean to Harry. But isn’t that too simple? McGonagall is the secret: we like her just enough throughout the books. However, J.K. Rowling herself says that McGonagall is an “old softy” and a “very worthy second in command”–but not Dumbledore’s equal. (JKR’s interview with scholastic in 2005, and 2000). Could be read both ways, no? Note also the sequence of cats Mrs. Figg has cats, Crookshanks, and McGonagall’s an animagus. Moreover, in the movies–which we believe JKR has insight into, McGonagall is wearing green, as she does in the formal parties (whenever she’s not wearing tartan).

Finally–one last thing: Wikipedia says the Queen of Spades depicts Minerva, AND spades in Tarot ind

icate obstacles, trouble, death.

Did I just blow your mind? Because that just happened. Fine work, K.S.

Well, I guess it’s up to Transformers now. (Although I have secret high hopes for the third Bourne.)

Anyway, treat yourself to Alexandra DuPont’s review of PoC: At World’s End. She’s got one of the first–and only–reviews you’re likely to see before Friday. And she’s in full effect.

It’s happening. Albeit eight years too late.

I actually don’t know who I like in a match-up of Sampras and Federer both in their primes. These theoretical tennis matches are always dependent on lots of things–for instance, are you talking about a player at his absolute single-moment peak, or at some rough approximation of how good they were during the meat of their career? In other words, if you’re talking about a player at their very best moment, I think you have to consider McEnroe, who was downright scary in 1981. But if you consider the totality of his game, he’s a top 10 (or 12) all-time player and isn’t in league with Laver, Borg, et al.

But Sampras at his general best level against the Federer we’ve seen for the last couple years? I just don’t know. Federer is such an amazing ball-striker, Sampras was probably the best pure athlete ever to play the game. Both could switch on their dominance and both had the ability to play a game basically independent of the guy on the other side of the net.

At this point in time, I give the smallest edge to Pistol Pete II, because he was so mentally tough. But I’m willing to be persuaded otherwise if Federer is able to assert himself over the coming wave of great young players who will be reaching maturity in the next 24 months or so.

(Andy Murray and Richard Gasquet, in particular, who look like monsters.)