Last night's CBS Evening News had a story on how Rudy Giuliani, our thrice-married former mayor, is faring with the more conservative voters who will choose the Republican Party's presidential nominee. In this clip, Southern Baptist Convention lobbyist Dr. Richard Land (you may remember him from such classics as getting President Bush involved in the Terri Schiavo case and his firm advocacy of "reparative therapy" to make the gays normal) explains that, while standards may have slipped, they probably haven't slipped enough to help America's Mayor with the Godite believers of flyover country.

So we read Times token "hipster" Melena Ryzik's summing-up of the genre to which "Hannah Takes the Stairs" belongs—"Mumblecore is the latest in indie cinema. It's a movement focused on the self-absorbed minutiae of post-collegiate existence—but in a good way."—and gagged ourselves with a proverbial spoon. But then we watched the trailer for the movie and... man! Don't you hate it when something that purports to speak to your generation actually, you know, speaks to you? There should be a word for that. There probably is in German. Anyway, you could check it out tonight at IFC, if you're feeling, um, focused on the self-absorbed minutiae of post-collegiate existence or something.

During Tuesday's moving finale of the NBC hit (we're trying to make up for missing the event by slowly reconstructing it through YouTube clips), judge David Hasselhoff offered a brave performance of his Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical's "This is the Moment," knowing in his heart that the larynx-eroding effects of too many wild nights of drunken, camcorded floorburger parties might prevent him from delivering a single note in its intended key. Still, Hoff belted on, nearly collapsing from the exertion necessary to execute the song's lung-bursting finish. Fuck America, Hasselhoff's triumphant expression seems to declare as he sustains a final, strangled note, I've got all the talent you need right here.

Richard Blakeley meets yet another French visitor to our city in our weekly look at the way we dress in New York. This guy? Big Dior fan. Huge.
Previously: Meet Delphine Cauce

Two CollegeHumor employees meet to go over web site ideas. "IMDb, but no actors, just the movies." "So it's worse IMDb." "Yes." "No." Click through to watch.

But could anyone better sum up the competition's 60-seat-Vegas-showroom essence than last night's winner, ventriloquist-impressionist hybrid Terry Fator? We think not. Now $1 million richer, Fator's twenty, long years traveling the bumpy show business backroads have finally paid off. (If you're skeptical of his celebrated talents, we invite you to marvel at Winston the Turtle channeling Roy Orbison above.) America's ventriloquists, so long the bottom-feeders of the post-Vaudeville entertainment world, can finally hold their heads up high, just as soon as they're done cursing the fact that the best impression they can muster sounds something like Robin Williams doing Jack Nicholson eating a sandwich.

This week's episode of "Douche Factory" finally delivered the goods: After an embarrassing segment in which the apprentice pick-up douches competed to see who could best tell a story to a roomful of little girls—both creepy and sexist, nice work, VH1!—seduction ringleader "Mystery" instructed his charges in the art of "the neg." There's a lot of science involved—particularly concerning those "DHV spikes"—so you might want to take notes.

Now, however, Mary-Kate (right? Yeah, the Mary-Kate one) is making out with Sir Ben Kingsley in indies and landing showy roles on Weeds, so we'll assume she's the one we'd always thought was destined for bigger things than So Little Time and When in Rome. Above, find a promo clip for her new Showtime gig, which in a short 40-second runtime reinforces our feeling that the show's producers probably stunt-cast the best possible Olsen as their Jesus-freak pothead.

In the Valley, going out in public without a canned, 30-second spiel for your latest project — the famed "elevator pitch" — is like not wearing underwear. You can do it, but you might embarrass your mom if someone catches you. We went to BarCampBlock, last weekend's nerdathon in Palo Alto, and tested people on the street. Every single one had his pitch at the ready, some delivered more smoothly than others. Did any of them convince you, readers? Tell us in the comments.

Chris Heuer, founder of the Social Media Club, explains, in a mile-a-minute diatribe stretching back to World War II, explains how porn drives technology, and hence, the economy as a whole. At least, that's what we think he's saying.

While disenfranchised leather daddies and various species of indigenous hipster discussed Sunset Junction's overcrowding problem over warm cups of Dos Equis at this weekend's suffocatingly hot street fair, those who couldn't be bothered with the festival huddled at Vice magazine's pool party at The Standard in WeHo on Saturday, where matters of far greater cultural import were debated over free, ice-cold bottles of Colt 45. Defamer videographer Molly McAleer files this brief video dispatch of her pre-Junction foray to the event.

After a thorough examination by former BB housemate and best friend Dr. Will Kirby, Boogie is informed that he has contracted a genital wart (see it magnified 1000x at the 4:30 mark!), prompting the crossover reality star to immediately visit Sunset Tan to get the his penis spray-tanned back to a uniform, perfectly bronzed color.

Last night on MTV's The Hills, we finally understood how someone like Spencer Pratt can wear someone like Heidi Montag down—she's young and (by some standards) beautiful, and yet totally, completely insecure and not very bright. Spencer is an ass, and an idiot, but he's managed to manipulate the bejeezus out of Heidi in the way that some guys seem to have been born to know how to do. Last night he came up with the most evilly brilliant line, one that will undoubtedly be used immediately by controlling manipulators nationwide. Whether you are the manipulator or the manipulatee, watch and learn.

Once students are logged in to BzzyBee, the workspace will screen submissions for inappropriate language, the exchange of emails or phone numbers, and soon, threatening statements. This means there will be no opportunity to score prom dates. And BzzyBee will put a stop to online bullying. The old days of forcing those smarter than you to do your work are over. Next, I'm sure, it will notify my mom when it's time to attack your mom's poor parenting skills. Silicon Valley companies should treat this as a serious threat to future recruitment plans. Without the emotional scars provided by ill treatment at school, how will the next generation of MBAs intimidate the next generation of geeks into obeying their orders?

Every PC user has the words of Microsoft's infamous "Blue Screen of Death" — the screen displayed when Windows crashes — virtually tattooed in their retinae. But, Fox News reports, An Auckland, New Zealand man, not content with that visual reminder, has actually tattooed the text on his arm.

For her maiden voyage, we dispatched Defamer videographer Molly McAleer to this weekend's Sunset Junction street fair, where a diverse population of Silver Lake hipsters, Echo Park hipsters, and lost-seeming leather daddies hanging on to the festival's more fabulous heyday gathered to listen to some bands in the stifling, 90-plus-degree heat while attempting to stay hydrated with $6 margaritas. If you've somehow never had the pleasure of losing two consecutive days to aimlessly wandering that eastern stretch of Sunset Blvd. in a near-constant state of intoxication/dehydration, we've probably just saved you $15 for next year's entry fee.

Leona Helmsley was more than just a former secretary who helped her third husband create a massive real estate empire while becoming a recognizable face to New Yorkers through a series of commercials in which she starred. She was a pioneer whose conviction on tax fraud (Rudy Giuliani was her prosecutor!) established that if a female executive is as abrasive, rude towards the help, and generally corrupt as her male counterparts, she deserves to be treated easily twice as harshly as a man would. Because, you know, that's not what we expect from ladies. In many ways, we can view the late Mrs. Helmsley as a precursor to fellow orange-jumpsuit wearer Martha Stewart. Thank you for blazing that trail, Leona! In memoriam, here's a clip of actress Suzanne Pleshette portraying the hotelier in the 1990 television movie "Leona Helmsley: The Queen of Mean."

Meet Jimmy Justice, traffic vigilante. As this "Today Show" clip shows, Mr. Justice roams the city searching for evil-doers; specifically, parking violations officials who are themselves violating parking laws. If you want to call him a superhero, so be it.