As per my modus operandi I am awake in the not so wee small hours. Cable holds little to offer. How many hours can one expound upon the delights of Jessica Simpson's miracle cure for acne, or the inumerable charms of a follicley challenged club for the insecure? Enter Gregory Peck. Yes please. Does it matter which classic it is? In this case it's one of my favorites, Gentleman's Agreement. The female lead can not fathom being considered an anti-semite. Here's a little hint if you require outside confirmation that you are not an anti-semite, racist, sexist, or just plain idiot's delight you may have your answer. In a post-modern United Nation's culture we magnetically crave the validation of external opinions to define who we are as human beings. What we see in the mirror each day holds little value as we slave to reflect back what we see on the television, in the movies, magazines, and all the other billion dollar industries thriving on our insecurities.I, myself, will consider it a victory when I no longer feel the need to ask: Do I look fat in this?
