With Father Time currently in lockdown after being picked up over the weekend for a parole-violating DUI, and the tragic discovery of the New Year's baby in a dumpster behind Bar Lubitsch (besides a crushed top hat and filthy sash, doing just fine), it seems as if the countdown to 2008 comes under less than ideal circumstances. Still, you can't stop the march of progress, and nowhere is that more apparent than in the weekend box office numbers:

On these final few hours before the sugarplum-gorging orgy that begins at dawn, we dutifully tabulate for you, like a trembling Bob Cratchit scratching figures with a quill pen into the margins of the Scrooge & Marley ledger, the weekend's box office numbers:
1. National Treasure: Book of Secrets - $45.5 million
Frankly, we don't know what took infallible superproducer Jerry Bruckheimer and supermuse Nicolas Cage this long to bring us another Treasure chapter: With Secrets conquering this weekend's box office (and bringing in $10 mil more than the original), the American-history-corrupting adventure serial has now graduated to official franchise&trade status. We're eagerly anticipating all future installments, including National Treasure: Three Dollar Bill, in which Cage and his ragtag band of bookish fortune-hunters discover that the Lincoln Memorial's head spins to the left when a Sacagawea and Susan B. Anthony dollar are placed in its orbital sockets, revealing a secret tunnel to J. Edgar Hoover's fabled lingerie closet.

We knew that Hollywood wouldn't allow itself to limp out of 2007 on the back of a crippled, armored polar bear—celebrate the studios' late-year resurrection with a quick perusal of the weekend's box office numbers:

As Hollywood tries to shake off another lackluster set of box office performances and limps towards a more promising frame, praying that some animated chipmunks and Will Smith will save the studios from this malaise before Christmas arrives, have a look at the weekend's disappointing numbers:

In another one of those post-Thanksgiving weekends at the box office in which Hollywood serves up the cinematic equivalent of mold-encrusted stuffing and rancid cranberry sauce, the moviegoing public largely chose to stay home and avoid a grudging feast on studio leftovers. Have a look at the anemic numbers from a slow three days at the multiplex, which Box Office Mojo says was "the least attended in a decade":

· A rebounding Universal tries to shake off its recent jilting by Brad Pitt by climbing into bed with Russell Crowe, inviting the actor to partake of Pitt's State of Play sloppy seconds. [Variety]
· Even though it feels like there's been nothing good to watch on HBO since the end of The Sopranos (Flight of the Conchords notwithstanding), the network's subscriber numbers have actually risen slightly since the Best TV Show in The History Of The World went off the air. We suppose we have no chose but to credit (at least in part) all the fucking on Tell Me You Love Me for retaining viewer interest. [THR]

As you slowly awaken from your tryptophan-induced comas, only vaguely remembering the pounds of turkey and glasses of scotch consumed over the previous four days, stare bleary-eyed at the weekend box office numbers:

As you impatiently listen to the clock tick off the seconds until your Thanksgiving holiday, distract yourself from your daydreams of stuffing and candied yams with a look at the weekend's box office numbers:

As your Hollywood employer has probably decided that this Veterans Day doesn't warrant the show of respect of a day off (strike-related layoffs notwithstanding), celebrate the sacrifices of those who've served our country in the most meaningful way available to you: by observing a moment of silence as you review the weekend's box office numbers:

On this gloomy Monday morning, take a moment to review the weekend's studio strike fund box office results, allowing yourself to momentarily ignore the coordinated chants of the picketers outside your place of employment.

Ease your disappointment from walking into a Halloween party this weekend to discover that no fewer than five other people had been stricken by the same "California wildfire" brainstorm that led you to char your favorite souvenir Malibu t-shirt by reviewing the weekend's box office numbers:

It's not for nothing that Transformers should boast grosses on the high-end of 12-figures, as trumpeted by a seemingly endless succession of brushed-titanium zeroes on the pages of today's Variety: The studio has master blowingshitupologist's Michael Bay's passion and perfectionism to thank for that.

Take a quick peek out of your window: If the surrounding area is not being ravaged by wildfires, proceed to the weekend's box office numbers and begin your week:

Kick off this Columbus Day holiday—don't worry, no one is off today, so you're not alone—with an invigorating stroll through the weekend's box office numbers:

We'd wish you a happy Monday, but we know you'd just see through that transparent attempt at merry-making on the bleak beginning of a seemingly unending work week. So: have a look at the weekend box office numbers, doing your best to ignore the five days of pain that await you:

On this wintry, late-September Monday morning, take a sip of your cocoa, adjust your scarf, and try to keep warm in these frigid low-60 temperatures as you review the weekend box office numbers:

Even though most domestic entertainment consumers chose to spend the entire weekend researching their Emmy pool picks, the multiplexes remained open, hoping to lure those fatigued from the demanding intellectual exercise with pleasant, air-conditioned places in which to take study breaks. These are the weekend numbers:

Following a slow weekend at the box office, we must ask: Have you abadoned Hollywood, or has Hollywood abandoned you? Ponder this question as you review the box office numbers:

By now it should be sinking in as you sit down at your computer on this post-Labor Day Tuesday morning: Summer is over, burned off in this weekend's triple-digit heat. Make peace with the unofficial beginning of Fall by reviewing the long weekend's box office numbers (we'll list the four-day grosses because we don't want to cheat any studios out of a few million extra holiday dollars):

Ah, yes. It's beginning to feel—and smell—a lot like late August. Before slipping on those fancy trick sunglasses upon which you've glued magazine cutouts of two open eyes and checking out for the morning, have some box office numbers, freshly scooped out of the commissary salad bar: