Backlash? Who could have guessed?

“The independent film stars Bella Thorne and “is about a street-smart party girl with a Jesus fetish who gets mixed up in a violent drug deal and finds a possible way out — by masquerading as a Nun.”

(The same way I got out of Vietnam, by the way.)

It may have a way to go before challenging the weirdest portrayal of Christ, in Greaser’s Palace, one of the oddest movies ever filmed.

GP centers around Jesus returning to the earth in the old west, into the shabbiest, most run-down town in any dried-up gulch. (Well, I suppose Bethlehem was no Paris either.) He’s on his way to Jerusalem to be an actor/singer/dancer, and he’s a whiz at performing 1940’s boogie-woogie. Jesus, aka “Jessy,” is wearing a black and gray striped 1940’s zoot suit and a big pink hat, and looks pretty much like Jim Carrey after he puts on The Mask.

God the Father is a crusty lookin’ old cowboy greybeard. The Holy Ghost wears a cowboy outfit except for the bed sheet over his head with two eyeholes cut out, and he’s upset because The Father never gives him a chance to do anything important. Here’s the Holy Trinity:

Seaweedhead Greaser is the guy who runs the town, and he has constipation problems. He can’t move to action unless properly spurred by mariachi music, so his quartet follows him around in case he needs them. Like all movie strongmen, he has a wimp of a son, and he kills the kid, Lamy Homo Greaser, in the first scene, but Jesus later brings him back to life like Lazarus, and …

Let’s see. Tattoo from Fantasy Island plays a tiny homosexual cowpoke who makes a move on Christ. And there’s a 90 year old man playing a character named “Petunia”, clad in pink gingham drag. And there’s really no way to describe this without going through every discontinuous scene. It was directed by the supremely odd Robert Downey Senior, and will give you a clear hint that Downey Junior’s early drug problems may have been inherited.

“Perhaps the massive star died and collapsed into a black hole without undergoing a supernova explosion first — a truly ‘unprecedented’ act of stellar suicide.” That’s just one of many speculations. It is an LBV, prone to massive variations in brightness, so there are multiple possibilities.

What we do know is that one of the largest stars in the universe seems to have disappeared from our observations.

But in one sense, Hugh was never really alive, at least not in the way that we normally conceive of life.

He would have been a perfect choice for one of those “Is he alive or dead?” quizzes. I probably haven’t thought about Hugh Downs in decades, and had no idea that he was alive.

“’The Guinness Book of World Records’ recognized Downs as having logged more hours in front of the camera than any television personality until Regis Philbin passed him in 2004.”

OK, that’s a funny concept. I get it.

What I don’t get is why a store named Canadian Tire is advertising a back-to-school special in their window banners. Kids in Canada must have a special back-to-school experience – they get some new pencils and notebooks, a few new items for their wardrobe, and a set of radials.

Based on that window banner, the fact that they sell Mr. Potato Head, and the outdoor flower display, I’m gonna take a guess without looking it up that a Canadian Tire store is not like a Firestone Tire in the USA. I guess you can’t make much money selling just tires to a nation where the most common form of transportation begins with “On, King! On, you huskies!”

I can’t figure out why, but whenever I played Wild West with my childhood friends, they would all laugh at me when I said, “I arrest you in the name of the crown!” I guess maybe I should have watched some American westerns.

By the way, my Russian ancestors failed miserably at winter transportation. My great-grandfather, Дядя Скупов, kept tinkering with animal-driven sleds, but he never could figure the right animal. I suppose his worst failing was the cat sled. You needed about 500 of them just to budge the sled, and then they’d all wander in different directions when he would bark his famous command, “On, Puff! On, you tabbies!” Now that I think about it, the cat sled wasn’t his worst idea. The poor man died tragically the first day he tested his ill-fated jaguar sled.

Maxwell is charged with enticement and conspiracy to entice minors to travel to engage in illegal sex acts, transportation and conspiracy to transport minors with intent to engage in criminal sexual activity, and two counts of perjury”

I am surprised that she was “hiding out” in New Hampshire. There are plenty of countries that will not extradite to the USA. With her money she could have led quite a regal life in Belarus, for example. As this article noted, “Maxwell has three passports, large sums of money, extensive international connections, and absolutely no reason to stay in the United States and face the possibility of a lengthy prison sentence.” Perhaps she thought she would not be indicted?

Some have suggested that Bill Clinton has had an affair with her, which is distinctly possible given her possession of a vagina, thus clearing the ol’ horndog’s only hurdle. Then again, neither of the Clintons are “public officials,” and Clinton isn’t the one who fired the head of the SDNY last week! I guess we’ll know when we know.