My first show-biz party last night--Andy took me to the wrap party for his non-renewed series, "Life on Mars". My impression of TV actors is that they are short and gay. The party was at a nightclub in Chelsea that had all these private cabanas like you see Lauren Conrad, Heidi Montag, Audrina Patridge et al "hiding" from the public in on "The Hills". The show was set in the 70s and they tried to keep to that theme, but the music ran well past '85. There was live karaoke, Andy and I did "Whip It", and everyone told us we were perfect afterward, which was demonstrably untrue, just show business b.s., and I was a recipient of it!

He and I also started working on our second movie script at his new apartment in Weehauken, just around the corner from the site of the Burr-Hamilton unpleasantness.

I caught a little bit of Fox at 5 news where some doctor was talking about drops you can put on your eyelids to grow eyelashes (I'm not going to swear to that, I wasn't paying attention.) "I've read a lot of stuff on the Internet," the anchorwoman said, "and can't this stuff get in your eyes?" The doc said yes, it could, but since it started out its marketing life as a cataract medicine, while you should still follow directions, it wouldn't hurt your eyes. "That's good to know, you know, becuase I hear all kinds of things and who knows?" So it's official, the people delivering the news on TV are no longer authority figures who have investigated facts to share with us, they are our proxies, frightened villagers who think nothing is knowable and are there to express non-specific anxiety about so-called information. When the news doesn't believe the news, why are we watching the news?