We never thought it could happen, but the fanboy bloom may officially — and dramatically — be off the Star Wars franchise after 30 loving years of devotion: Ain't it Cool News boss Harry Knowles has written a scathing review of the franchise's new, animated The Clone Wars. And we mean scathing — vicious enough to not only shake our faith in geek compliance to its very foundation, but also rouse George Lucas from his afternoon cash-bath with a cease-and-desist order straight from the top.

Though Today's addition of Kathie Lee Gifford to its fourth hour has been controversial, at least one good thing has come of it: the manic host has made the incoherent Ann Curry look like Cronkite. So constant is the ex-Reeger's chatting that even Today regular Sam the Cooking Guy erupted at Gifford, prompting him to burst out with "Can I talk?" after one babbled interruption too many. Now the New York Times has picked up on the Kathie Lee backlash, quoting enough bitter, female viewers to power a Television Without Pity message board:

While leaving Chelsea Piers over the weekend, Suri Cruise displayed a premature case of the Mondays. Cruise was not looking forward to starting the workweek all over again. Cruise said, "I gotta start rolling calls early in the morning cause of this meeting I have at 11. I mean, who schedules a meeting then? We're all going to be zoning out and thinking about lunch or wanting to update our Facebook status. And I have another meeting in the afternoon right around my coffee break. I prefer to get the coffee myself but I'll just have my assistant do it. I'm not sure if he can get it together. Ugh. I need a vacation or at least be Friday afternoon, already?"

We'd like to think of the new 90210 reboot as America's answer to the acclaimed Canadian bildungsroman Degrassi: The Next Generation: a teen soap that "goes there" while aged refugees from the original cast cavort in the background and compare faces. Sadly, one of those taut, cheek-implanted visages might be missing from the new 90210 lineup; while Tori Spelling had been negotiating to appear on the show midseason, she's stormed off after learning that producers totally like Brenda and Kelly more. Says Nikki Finke:

Does Death's double-dipping have you disturbed? Fret not—we have an easy way to ward of the scythe. Simply slaughter a baby lamb in your office kitchen, collect its blood, then paint that along your cubicle's entrance. The Angel of Death will then skip your workspace to reap the annoyingly high-pitched temp working next door. Enjoy these box office numbers, along with your freshly spared life: 1. The Dark Knight - $26.03 million Tripping up most of the world's most esteemed box office prognosticators—even us, and we're never wrong!—once again was bat-eared juggernaut The Dark Knight. Like a seasoned welterweight pro who knows the fight has 12 rounds, Knight ceded to Pineapple Express until Saturday, when it surged ahead of the stoner crime opera to easily take the weekend. Children, take out your chalk and slates: Plus $26.06 brings us to $441.5 million, making it...? That's right: the third-highest-grossing domestic film of all time, ahead of Shrek 2, poised to creep ahead of Star Wars for the slot behind Titanic by this week's end.2. Pineapple Express - $22.4 million Just as the Pineapple kids were firing up a Friday afternoon fatty and declaring that Batman, in no uncertain Korean terms, should "prepare to suck the cock of karma!" they were served up a lung-singeing cloud of Badpod dust. No matter: $40.4 million in five days is better than any dead-of-summer comedy has any right to do. Judd Apatow can proudly carve another notch in his bedpost, moments before an exhausted Seth Rogen rolls over and keeps his creative life-partner awake all night with deep, satisfied snoring. 3. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor - $16.113 million ATTENTION: Hazardous toy recall. If you recently purchased a Rick's Wheelie Motorcycle for your child as part of KFC's The Mummy promotional tie-in, destroy it at once. Your child won't choke on its small parts (the way they do on the accompanying meal's chicken wing bones), but they might start emulating the heroics of Brendan Fraser—potentially forcing you to sit through an entire showing of The Mummy itself. 4. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 - $10.77 million Now showing at West Hollywood's Tomkat theater in conjunction with this sequel's opening is The Brotherhood of the Traveling Chaps 2, an all-male, S&M-themed take on the touching story of a circle of lifelong friends bound by their mutual affection and previously agreed-upon safe words. 5. Step Brothers - $8.9 million We literally have nothing left to say about Step Brothers, so we'll let star Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly do the talking with Step Brothers Duel—an interactive viral marketing effort sure to cheer you up on this death-filled Monday! (We couldn't get the image upload to work. Figures.)

While out burning rubber with his motorcycle gang in Italy, popular actor/director/producer George Clooney was hounded by an aspiring writer. The writer had been waiting for face time with the Oscar winner for nearly four days, during which time she completed four rewrites of her blockbuster script. The woman described her spec as Mad Men meets Silent Running by way of Judd Apatow and believed it to be the perfect vehicle for the Cloonester. The woman said, "Nobody has pushed the limits of the science fiction genre quite this hard and I think George is the perfect individual to bring this unique vision to the screen." Clooney instructed the woman to leave a copy of her script at a nearby coffee bar and he'd pick it up right after his ride.

As if the surprise death of Bernie Mac wasn't showbiz tragedy enough, before the weekend was through we'd also be robbed of music legend Isaac Hayes. What can we say about the wocka-chicka- wocka-chicka-popularizer that hasn't already been said?The guy was an innovator, a soul-butterer, a sex-machine to all the chicks, a chocolate-salty-balls-haver. And the guy never changed: Here he is performing in Chicago in 1973 (rocking a cape, gold link harness, and orange leggings), and looking as if he hadn't aged a day at the Hollywood Bowl 34 years later. The only piece of the puzzle that never seemed to fit was his devotion to Scientology, which would lead to his acrimonious departure from South Park after nine seasons voicing the beloved Chef, and at least one regrettable LP release ("The Joy of Creating - The Golden Era Musicians and Friends play L. Ron Hubbard," featuring the musical talents of fellow adherents Chick Corea and Doug E. Fresh (!)). The rule of threes suggests the grim reaper isn't yet done with his dirty work. Sam Jackson just wrapped on Soul Men, co-starring Mac and Hayes. Just keep a third eye on any hungry smart-sharks sneaking up behind you, Sam, is all we're saying. [With thanks to Dr Ned, M.D. for the photo.]

We interrupt your weekend to relay sad news: Comedian and star of TV and movies Bernie Mac succumbed to pneumonia early this morning at the ridiculously unfair age of 50. Mac seemed an unlikely candidate for crossover success: He never outwardly solicited an audience's love, instead playing on his cannily conceived persona of the put-upon, working-class every-African-American. Despite his imposing size, booming voice, and those angry eye flares, the comedic hook, of course, was his blustery impotence—like a latter-day Ralph Kramden who insisted on referring to himself in the third-person, but who could give a shit if we knew that deep down he had a heart of gold. (We'd suggest he should have played him in The Honeymooners instead of Cedric the Entertainer, but that thing was such a piece of shit it wasn't worthy of his talents. Motherfucker had an appointment with Clooney and Pitt, anyway.) Listen to the bit above about taking in his drug-addict sister's kids—what would become the premise of his underrated Fox sitcom. Of the youngest he says,"That two-year-old—she the motherfucker. She the ringleader. She was sent here by the Devil. She works for the Devil!" Peace, Bernie. You're gone too soon.

·It's never too late to wish Manoj a happy 38th birthday! ·Bomb and anthrax threats temporarily made MGM Tower the baddest-ass studio HQ in town. ·A lucky Morgan Freeman escaped a serious car accident with only a broken marriage. ·Alas, Christina Applegate, Bernie Mac and a pair of SYTYCD finalists faced more dire diagnoses. ·Matthew McConaughey's breakthroughs in placenta husbandry narrowly edged Clay Aiken in the race for the title of Best New Daddy. ·Was TV's highest-paid star among those accidentally exposed by a clumsy Hollywood madam? ·It was a close call, but Shia's pinkie will pull through. ·Defamer's political bureau stayed busy with Gwyneth Paltrow, Paris Hilton and Scarlett Johansson. ·Behold! The Chosen Blobs! ·Pineapple Express started big and will end bigger — kind of like co-star James Franco, if you catch our drift. ·Tropic Thunder RetardGate came and went. ·Meanwhile, Robert Downey Jr. will answer your stupid fucking questions now, sir. Yours, too, Debbie Matenopoulos. ·Drink, Play, F@#K and Puke, Broke, AIDS supplanted The Hobbit as the planet's most anticipated two-fer. ·Molls philosophized and we all remembered moonwalkier times as The Two Coreys took a turn for the worse. ·RIP Bernie Brillstein.

· We spotted this juicy little nugget of gossip just moments before last night's episode of Chelsea Lately aired on E! last night. One of the show's staffers maintains a Tumblr called C'est L.A. Vie, in which she often details the mundane things that happen on the show. Yesterday, all that changed when she alleged that someone who was wired with a hot mic was caught doing coke on set. Our handy video clip runs down the list of all the on-camera guests last night's episode; leave your guesses (and investigative rationale) in the comments! [C'est L.A. Vie]
· Our hearts just broke a little — scratch that, a LOT — when we read this anecdote about Life Goes On star Corky and his racist streak. This was a Wikipedia hoax; Corky doesn't see color. [Byron Crawford]
· Chuck Klosterman's latest Esquire column features a lengthy diatribe on Jennifer Love Hewitt's left femur ("Love Hewitt’s left thighbone strikes me as unusually long, and I feel like it lacks the convincing self-assurance of her right femur"), which he grades a B+. [Esquire]
· Ignore Lindsay Lohan's nipples for a second and, instead, focus on her mouth. Is she wearing braces? Grillz? Is she chewing tin foil? [Egotastic]
· And we know the day is almost over, but here are 88 ways you can enjoy 8/8/08. Our fave? "Call up Eddie Furlong and ask why there are 8 of him to a mile. Then, find out how he’s doing. Let us know." Guaranteed to be the best list until the 99 ways you can enjoy 9/9/09 comes out next year! [Best Week Ever]

All good things must come to an end, and so it goes for comedienne Kathy Griffin and her bearish beau, Apple gazillionaire Steve Wozniak. Sure, we knew this day would eventually come (and that it would most likely be filmed), but you'll excuse us if we need a moment to compose ourselves before climbing back onto our Segways. In this clip from last night's My Life on The D-List, Griffin and the Woz start running down the clock on their chemistry while attending an animal benefit known as the Fur Ball (kinda like Woz himself!). Eventually, as midnight approaches, a tiara-clad Griffin must leave the Woz behind, her mascara running as her three loyal assistants turn back into mice and the Woz, sadly, becomes a penniless pumpkin. [Bravo]

Jon Voight's recent toe-dip into the murky pool of political commentary attracted more than a few piranhas, the hungriest of whom may have been Hollywood Elsewhere's Jeffrey Wells. And after a July 29 blog item suggested freezing Voight's career as payback for his public condemnation of Barack Obama ("If I were a producer and I had to make a casting decision about hiring Voight or some older actor who hadn't pissed me off with an idiotic Washington Times op-ed piece, I might very well say to myself, 'Voight? Let him eat cake'"), Bill O'Reilly came a-calling last night with a theory about a new Hollywood blacklist against conservatives. While we (and Wells himself, apparently) had hoped for a more bloodthirsty offensive from Wells, we're endlessly engrossed by his session on Dr. O'Reilly's couch, elucidating the vengeful feelings inherent to angry industry bloggers everywhere. Seriously, Bill, this is nothing — wait until Oscar season. [Fox News]

There's money in them thar tweens, and Forbes knows it. The magazine has just published its Rich Tween list, a ranked list of moneymakers who appeal to the elusive eight-to-14 demographic that is like, so over Spongebob. Coming in at #1 with $25 million is Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliffe, who had middle school playgrounds abuzz with his daring take on Equus (coming to Broadway this fall!). But wait! Could a precocious teen starlet have tied him for the pole position? Where are the Olsens? The Jonases? The High School Musical-ites?

Ah yes, the dog days of summer. These are the kind of days where nothing sounds finer than sitting 'round the backyard with a few of your closest chums, tossing back a few cold ones and firing up the grill. But this weekend, instead of cooking up some Hebrew Nationals and a few burgers, might we suggest that you bring all the fixins for a nice Dirt Sandwich instead? The ingredients are pretty simple, and you can't beat the calorie count: all you need is an internet connection, a computer and an internet browser that's pointed right here. If you have a laptop computer and a WiFi connection then, well, that's even better. Gather your friends round the warm light of your computer screen and click play. Because nothing says summer time like topless supermodels, a John Stamos marathon make out sesh and Katherine Heigl's continued emasculation of her husband Joshua. Enjoy!

Never one miss out on a trend, Rumer Willis became the latest celebrity to don an amorphous potato sack dress while out shopping in New York City. The House Bunny star felt the shapeless outfit leaves a lot to imagination while still being fashionable and wearable. Willis said, "So many guys are just dying to look down your shirt and this outfit prevents them. You can't get this milk for free. Oh no. Dinner at Dan Tana's, then it'll become a maybe."

The 2008 Olympics literally have us 19 ways of excited at Defamer HQ, where we've retrofitted our dungeon workspace with one television for each of the NBC channels broadcasting the summer games. But don't get the wrong idea — we couldn't care less about the pole vault or women's rowing. No way. We're talent scouting, babe, in search of the next Olympian to break through the ranks as a Hollywood star. It's kind of a ritual around here, really, going waaayyyy back to the days when our old-media ancestors at the Defamer Star-Courier foretold gold-medalist swimmer Johnny Weissmuller's ascent to fame as Tarzan.Alas, for every Kristi Yamaguchi who wins Dancing With the Stars, there are a dozen others whose athletic gifts fail to blossom into entertainment careers. Defamer videographer Molly McAleer has dug deep into our archives for a few of the most dramatic missteps and failures, from Bruce Jenner's ill-advised turn in Can't Stop the Music to Mary Lou Retton's less-than-convincing '80s-era battery pitch. May the limits of their championship spirit be a lesson to all those going for the gold in '08. We'll be watching. (Read more coverage of the 2008 Olympic Games.) 5. Bruce Jenner, You Can't Stop The Music

There's something about Hollywood dads and afterbirth. Unlike Tom Cruise, who greedily pledged to gobble up every last drop of the nutrient-rich biological matter, however, Matthew McConaughey instead told CNN's Dr. Sanjay Gupta that he has something far eco-friendlier planned for his own son's:

We're not sure what kind of tomes dominated your college experience, but for us, one of our faves had to have been Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years Of Solitude. While it would be undeniably awesome to be a trustfunder who could spend 100 years ruminating humankind's inescapable potential and reality, we have bills to pay. Which, unfortunately, means we're gonna have to settle for spending this weekend enjoying a measly two days of solitude. So break out your finest bottle box of Franzia, smoke 'em (if you got 'em) and kick back for a refreshing 132 seconds of pre-weekend solitude as you take in this weekend's To Do's (brought to you, as always, by our own manic pixie dream girl Molly McAleer). Have a great weekend!FRIDAY, AUGUST 8 · Eddie Izzard at The Kodak. · Refried Fridays at the Hollywood Improv. · Art Under the Stars in Baldwin Park. SATURDAY, AUGUST 9 · Love Festival at LA Memorial Coliseum. · Henry Coombes at the Hammer Museum. · The Grown Up Noise at The Mint. SUNDAY, AUGUST 10 · Funkmaster Flex Car Show at Anaheim Convention Center. · Swinging Sundays at The Derby. · Taylor Dayne at the Starlight Bowl.

You know the night is not going to go smoothly when your frazzled blonde waitress still hasn't brought your wine out, despite the fact that it's been 20 minutes since the second time you checked in on it. Thanks to this oversight, now your bladder is full from drinking water and you're about to eat the table because the only reservation you could get at this hot shit new place was 9:30pm. Welcome to Gjelina, a new eat local, small-plate, outrageously trendy restaurant which soft opened on Abbot Kinney on July 20. The chef, Travis Lett, did time at Tengu, and the general manager, Robert Schwan, comes from the stellar Japanese locale Wabi Sabi. Unfortunately, our first visit to Gjelina only got worse from there.At least the restaurant itself was nice to look at.

So we hit the open warehouse, and let's just say, if we had $5 million kicking around, we'd have found the ideal windowless converted foundry from which to run our punk rock mini-empire/host all-night after-Junction ragers with a few hundred of our closest neighborhood drunks. Yes, Kiefer is leaving us, friends. But that doesn't mean we can't still check in with him from time to time, albeit in the altogether less intimate arena of nationally televised talk show appearances. On Late Show last night, Kiefer recalled our collective nightmare—his incarceration for a parole-violating DUI—from inside the Glendale City Jail. Explaining that his celebrity status (translation: perky little ass) earned him unwanted attention, the simple act of communal showering became a perilous maneuver worthy of Jack Bauer himself, requiring slippery neck-snappings and shivs-to-the-eye if he planned on getting out with his bitch-virginity intact.