This week’s review of Entertainment Weekly - yes, I know, it’s as disturbing to me as it is to you - was a bit more interesting than usual.  The main theme, to the extent EW has a theme, is best summed up by the article The Must List.  Upon further read, this purports to be a list of the 122 (not 120 or 125) people and things we are supposed to love and adore this Summer.  At least, that’s what the cover story banner says.

Now, the #1 people or thing we are to love is Brandon Routh.  You’re asking:  what or who is Brandon Routh.  That was my question.  First, he falls into the "people" category.  Second, he is the new Superman.  Now, to be consistent, #2 is Kate Bosworth.  Also a people, not a thing, Kate is the new Lois Lane.  Almost makes you think the producers, director and writers of the new Superman chipped in a few bucks and bought Jeff Jensen, the author of the article about #1 and #2, a drinking party with a bunch of hookers. I’m just speculating.

Included in the 122 people and things we’re supposed to love and adore this Summer are some books.  These range from the obscure to the this-one’s-been-everywhere type.  The book part of the list goes like this:

at #29. The March by E.L. Doctrow - Honestly, I thought Doctrow was dead.  Guess not.  EW  says, "Publishing insiders are calling his long-awaited Civil War epic The March the best book of the year."  This could be Doctrow’s first-person account of the Civil War.  Who knows.

at #48.  The City Of Falling Angels by John Brendt - This is the guy who wrote Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil.  Okay, I owe Brendt an apology.  Since his previous (and only) book was on the bestseller list for something like 106 years, I assumed he was done with the world, had retired to an island and was otherwise lounging around in a drunken haze.  Really, wouldn’t you have taken that road?  Not Brendt.  He’s been writing a second non-fiction crime extravaganza, this time based in Venice.

at #78.  On Bullshit by Harry G. Frankfurt - I will buy and actually read this book based on the following quote from EW,  "Retired Princeton prof Frankfurt’s slim philosophical tract theorizes that bullshitters - those who don’t care whether what they say is true or false - are more dangerous than liars."  He had me at "philosophical tract" and I doubt I’m alone.

at #82.  A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby - I am convinced it is on the list because it is on every damn list everywhere on the planet.  Hell, I’ve written about it.  Despite Tod Goldberg’s comment here that the book is earning Hornby the worst reviews of his career, the promo campaign is on fire.  And, Tod?  May your upcoming release be this hated.  Leaving this book off this (or any list), including one about the best shoes for Fall, would suggest a magazine is out of touch and EW can’t have that.

at #102.  Bangkok Tattoo by John Burdett - This one is a thriller starring a Buddhist cop.  You try pulling that off.  Enough said.

at #110.  Killing Yourself To Live by Chuck Klosterman - I don’t even understand the title.  EW  says it "…chronicles his 21-day, 600-CD roadtrip across American in search of famous rock-star death sites…"  Not.  Interesting.  To.  Me.

at #113.  Breakfast With Tiffany by Edwin John Wintle - This one has some buzz.  I say that because it was featured in People  this week.  Two entertainment magazines in one week must mean something.  It’s a memoir about a gay writer who raises his teenage niece.  And, you guessed it, it’s coming to a theater near you very soon.

at #116.  Honey And Junk by Dana Goodyear - It’s a book of poems.  Really, I could lie to you and try to describe it but I stopped reading soon after reading the poems part.

at #120. The Bachelorette Party by Karen McCullah Lutz - This lady wrote the script for Legally Blonde.  EW describes this as, "-a raucous, entertaining romp that takes place almost entirely during a scandalous all-night premarital bash and proves that chick lit isn’t just simpering single gals seeking hearts and flowers."  Look at that.  We got all the way to #120 before bashing chick lit.  That could be a record for EW.

Before you get too impressed with the list and these authors, remember this:  Mickey Rourke (yeah, he’s alive and not pickled in a jar somewhere - who knew) is #61, right between Coldplay and Melissa Etheridge.  Maybe Hornby should dump his promo guy/gal after all for not getting him a higher ranking than Rourke.

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