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Okay, okay. Maybe Spencer Morgan just did it for attention. Maybe he just wanted angry women to comment on his fantastically misogynist piece in The New York Observer so that he could get more attention. Well, guess what? It worked.

Urban contemporary art magazine Juxtapoz's November issue is the Robert Williams issue, a big-hitter in the underground comics scene and the magazine's founder. Oh, and he drives feminists up the wall with the way his artwork objectifies women. *NSFW and possibly triggering images after the break.*

I'll admit that I only really tuned into Eastwick out of a sense of national duty - Paul Gross, like me, is Canadian, and I feel he is owed some serious cash for his talents, wasted though they might be on American network television.  (Canadian television has no such riches on offer.)  Gross was always a tall drink of water of an actor (he may be known to you as a Mountie), and yet he has what I would call a genuine edge, with a wonderful sense of humor, and there's something about him that for me just feels like home.  So whatever he's in, I watch, and so, I watched Eastwick.

To give you an idea of what kind of objections the mere presence of Paul Gross can overcome for me, Eastwick is a loose adaptation of a movie that was a loose adaptation of a John Updike novel.  And Updike, regardless of the adulation he sparks in male undergraduate English majors everywhere, hated women.  There's really no way to say that gently.  He just did.  To wit, Eastwick (like the novel itself) is about three outcast women who are brought together by - who else - a dark, mysterious man who understands these women better than they do themselves.  The women are, ostensibly, witches, in the sense that they have various powers available to them.  These powers are nonetheless heavily rooted in what Updike understands as the bewitching nature of female sexuality - their ability to control men, to make men do as they want.  In fact, in the novel, Gross' character, Darryl Van Horne, is the women's own conjuring of the perfect man - and which, apparently, they envision in more or less pure sexual terms.