Warning: this article contains fairly widely-known spoilers about the ending of Inglourious Basterds. August 21st saw the release of Inglourious Basterds, the seventh film from art cinema’s enfant terrible and provocateur extraordinaire Quentin Tarantino. The misleadingly marketed story of a Jewish fugitive hiding out in Nazi-occupied France during the last years of World War II (and only tangentially the story of Brad Pitt’s titular Nazi scalpers), the film is primarily a study of the power of cinema as revolution and works as both an intense, dialogue-driven thriller and a commentary on the nature of filmmaking and its potential as a sociopolitical force.

There’s a popular axiom that dictates (in a G-rated form, anyway), “Opinions are like [armpits]. Everyone has them, and they all stink.” While this is obviously not 100% true (some people have no armpits, while some armpits smell quite lovely), there lies an indisputable chunk of truth in that meme.

On July 10, Michael Pratt, the principal of the LDS seminary at Lone Peak High School was arrested by police. Pratt, who is married with three children, had alleged sexual relations with a 16-year old student. A Facebook group called “Pray for Brother Pratt,” boldly displaying the famous painting of Jesus cradling a lamb, was launched within hours of his arrest and features more than 350 members and 129 posts to the group’s wall.

The existence of symbiotic, even parasitic relationships between tabloid journalism and arbitrarily appointed “celebrities” can perhaps best be indicated by professional strumpet Paris Hilton and her ilk. The fame with which her contemporaries are met is a direct result of the economic reward given by the “journalism” that created them.

Dr. Matthew Holland, UVU’s newly-appointed president, has been praised for his charisma, the dedication of his life to the field of education and for his willingness to work with even his most critical opponents in order to accomplish universal goals and benefit as many as possible.

Given the local interest regarding all things even tangentially Mormon-related, it was fascinating to watch the so-called “Culture Wars” implode our little corner of the world last November with the brouhaha regarding Proposition 8, California’s adorably innocuously-named controversial ban on gay marriage.

Clint Eastwood’s new film, Gran Torino, is the story of Walt Kowalski (played by Eastwood), a veteran of the Korean War and a retired automotive worker, who becomes caught up in both the culture and struggles of his Hmong neighbors. The film has managed to generate a fair amount of controversy, due to Kowalski’s pervasive racism (Kowalski, in all fairness, is eventually shown to be more of a misanthrope than a racist).