Saw Garden State. As what-will-I-do-to-add-meaning-and-joy-to-my-worthless-life movies go, it was pretty good. Not as good, on the whole, as The Graduate (which also has a superior soundtrack), Igby Goes Down, or Fight Club, but large portions of the middle of the movie were truly original, and several made me laugh so hard that I would have embarrassed myself if other people hadn't been laughing too.

[N.B. Jonathan Last is off his rocker. He thinks Closer was Natalie Portman's first adult role? There's nothing particularly nubile or childish about her role here. Indeed, Last's entire piece really seems to be nothing more than lingering fury at Portman's admittedly-chilling role in Leon. (C.f. Phoebe Maltz).]

Also, at the risk of asking an unanswerable question, what on earth is going on inside of Lyndon LaRouche's head? I thought it was bad enough when a friend was tailed through the south loop by the LaRouche soundtruck, but their anti-gay slurs in Harvard Square yesterday sent my girlfriend into an uncharacteristic rage. I thought she was going to kick the sign over; she contented herself with verbal abuse, though. Later, maybe I will do some more research.