The only thing memorable about Sex and the City 2 is the Number 2 part, which describes it totally, if you get my drift. Everything else in this deadly, brainless exercise in pointless tedium is dedicated to the screeching audacity of delusional self-importance that convinces these people the whole world is waiting desperately to watch 2 hours and 25 minutes of platform heels, fake orgasms and preposterous clothes. It is to movies what fried dough is to nutrition.

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AIR TODAY, GONE TOMORROW: Nothing lasts forever, at least that’s what the philosophers tell us. And now no less a philosopher than Willie Nelson has provided us with an object lesson. Known for decades for his trademark below the waist braided hair, Texas’ own balladeer has shorn his locks and now is only sporting a collar length do. More >

Ever since I wrote a column about gangsters I’ve known, I’ve received many requests to write more about them. Coincidently, a new book about Al Capone has hit the market. “Get Capone,” by Chicago author Jonathan Eig, is one of the best I’ve read. It would make a great miniseries, rivaling one of my favorites, “The Sopranos.”
With the demise of Prohibition and its huge illegal profits from bootlegging, crime bosses were looking for a new frontier. They found it in the parched sands of Las Vegas. Nevada had legalized gambling. And the mob moved in. More >