An afternoon swing by Ain't It Cool News delivered terrible news. Stan Winston is dead and that's just horrible.

I had a chance to tour Stan's creature shop during and after their work re-designing the Tooth Fairy on DARKNESS FALLS. I've been on many movie sets and to every sort of fan convention imaginable. I've been to Disney World and Six Flags, World Series clinchers and ticker tape parades. But I don't think I've ever seen anything cooler than Stan Winston's creature shop, up close and personal.

I only got to meet Stan a couple of times, but they each had that sort of charge I can only associate with the times I've met Bill Clinton and Stan Lee. A fucking giant of his profession and an old school movie maker and innovator.

My thoughts are with his friends and family.

Check out Stan Winston's IMDB profile for a list of his many startling and visionary achievements.

Well who hasn't?

It's only fair, seeing how everyone I know will likely be stoned out of their fucking minds when seeing the movie for themselves next month.

Finally finished the second part of last Sunday night's HBO premiere of McCullough's JOHN ADAMS mini. I thought it was astounding.

I never read the book, though I'm tempted to check out 1776 in the near future. I love the story of this nation's founding and the perspective offered from Adams is wonderful and enlightening. But it wasn't his happening upon the aftermath of The Boston Massacre, the spirited defense of both the British soldiers involved and the laws upon which this nation's very justification rested, or the evolution of John Adams from private lawyer to revolutionary to President of the country he helped found that struck me the most.

It was the story's portrayal of Thomas Jefferson, reluctant author of the Declaration of Independence. Upon delivering his draft, famously inclusive of language condemning the sale and possession of slaves which would later be excised... poor Jefferson has to sit there and listen to Adams and Ben Franklin pick through his words and offer what amounts to the eighteenth century version of notes.

Jefferson, founder of the Democratic Party and would-be President himself, one day, had to endure the Continental Congress' version of the story meeting with studio executives, producers and marketing seated around the conference table.

I, personally, though the word "self-evident" was the better choice.

But I felt for poor Jefferson I really did.

Daily Variety has just informed me that Anthony Minghella has died suddenly at 54.

I had the opportunity to meet Minghella on a couple of occasions while interning at Miramax back before the turn of the last century. I recall him being incredibly gracious and understated -- no small feat considering his epic THE ENGLISH PATIENT was in the midst of a tear through the Golden Globes and Academy Awards, locking up the New York-based studio's first Oscar for Best Picture.

A very talented and ambitious filmmaker doing interesting work in the studio system. A terrible shame.

Not taking down the 2008 Oscars remains my biggest regret of the recently-ended WGA strike. I'm sorry, but the raconteur and destruction artist in me wanted to burn the motherfucker to the ground while holding out for a better deal.

We didn't. The Oscars went on. At least Daniel Day-Lewis won, so there is justice.

But check out this clip featuring Ryan Seacrest (first time I've ever typed, spoken or even really thought about that name, I'm proud to say) interviewing Jennifer Garner and Laura Linney... and a highly intent Gary Busey who probably doesn't know who the fuck Jennifer Garner even is, let alone who designed her dress, her shoes, her bag, etc.

Watching the Oscars fills me with more loathing for Hollywood and the movie business than just about anything else... not that I can't appreciate the high caliber of nominated work, regardless of who wins the actual award, or even the flagrant narcisicim (hey, I'm a capitalist adventurer in the screen trade too)...

But my eyes glaze over with a film not unlike dull, milky death when importance is lent to such ridiculous things. The greatest, greatest Academy Awards moment I think I'll ever see was the George Bush/Iraq War ass-excoriation laid down by Michael Moore when he won for "Bowling For Columbine" back in 2003.

In these lean times, at least we have Gary Busey keeping things real...