“With a piece as awkward and poorly realized as this, it's hard to know even where to begin-- one feels like the gourmet food critic at a free casino buffet, each neon-lit steam section of lard-coated Frenchbread pizza, pitifully cold "hot" wings and possibly fatal under-iced shrimp demand their own uniquely grotesque attention. Why, in 2003, does he pander to the sickeningly ironic? Why even attem”
