It’s time for another installment of “Sounds Like a Plan” over at New York Press.

This week, I answer the following questions:

Dear Mark,
Is it my place to give my friend a heads up that his girlfriend of five years has cheated on him numerous times? Normally, I would do it to help the guy out. Only problem—she’s my best friend. Do I owe him this, even though I could risk losing one of my best friends?

—

Dear Mark,
I am planning my wedding and have been fighting with my mother constantly about details—from the guest list to the flowers. How can I make her understand that it’s my wedding too?

—

Dear Mark,
I’m thinking of moving to Brooklyn. I have been a Manhattanite for years, but I know I’d get more space for my dollar in the other borough. It’s such a hard move to make it over a bridge to see my friends. How can I overcome this stigma?
—Signed,
Feeling Desperate in the Financial District

Click here for my answers!

On Tuesday night, I saw It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown! on TV, and after double-checking my calendar, I confirmed that yes, it’s Halloween. For the first time since I left for college, I’m actually in Chattanooga for the holiday, which means I get to see trick-or-treaters and give them Fun Size Snickers Bars. (Thought from what I hear, trick-or-treating is on the wane in my hometown. I think most people go to church parties now, which is fine if you’re into that sort of thing… though it seems to guarantee a decreased candy count.)

In honor of the day, I’m celebrating the weirdest songs that ever hit the top ten. But let me clarify: I’m not talking about “Pac Man Fever” or “White and Nerdy” or some other novelty tune. I’m talking about singles that were promoted as straight-ahead, serious pop, yet were still completely bizarre. When strange things are accepted as normal, then you’re truly in the spirit of Halloween, y’all.

So if you want some freaky listening… crank these hits!

Note: The following Crank That Hit! will be presented as a short play for two actors.

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Remember a few weeks ago, when I met Elton John? Well, this past Sunday, the New York Times ran the story that made that meeting possible.

The piece is about the artistic choices that turned Billy Elliot from a movie into a stage musical. I had a lot of fun researching and thinking about it, because I love this part of the creative process… where ideas evolve into finished products.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on my story, Billy Elliot, or frankly, the strange trajectory of Jamie Bell’s career.

After the jump, please join me for a critical two-pack. I start by analyzing what’s working on The Office this season, which leads me to the ways Dirty Sexy Money is sliding off the rails. 

Good times!!

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So Beyonce’s new album is called My Name Is… Sasha Fierce, which is the character she plays in the “Single Ladies” video.

My roommate Joe is a writer at SoapNet, and today he invented alternate celebrity identities that follow the Sasha Fierce pattern: You take an upscale first name, add a blazingly confident adjective, and voila! Instant ass-kicking. (I wish George Clooney really did call himself “Alexander Neato.”)

And why is this important? Because apparently, an alter ego can keep you safe. “I have out-of-body experiences (as Sasha Fierce),” Beyonce told British Marie Claire. “If I cut my leg, if I fall, I don’t even feel it. I’m so fearless I’m not aware of my face or body.”

That quote is all over the internet. Obviously, it’s inpsiring people with its genius.

So using the Sasha Fierce formula, what’s the name of your alter ego?

Me? I’m Gregory Flawless.

I try not to assume that the popular culture of my childhood is inherently superior to anything that came before or after it. It annoys the crap out of me when Baby Boomers just insist that the sixties created the most cosmically significant versions of everything. Music? Better in the sixties. Political outrage? Better in the sixties. Fashion? Food? Unfiltered cigarettes? You get the idea.

But I’m not immune to nostalgia. I pine for my lost innocence like anyone else, and like so many Americans my age, my innocence mostly involves Saturday morning cartoons. Like Jim Henson’s Muppet Babies.

I’m not saying this is the best cartoon ever created, but I am saying it’s a memorable slice of 80s pie. Like a dense poem, the following clip provokes multiple, contradictory reactions:

The Good:

– The entire show is about using your imagination to have fun. Sure, kids aren’t using their brains when they watch TV, but maybe after Muppet Babies, they’ll go outside and invent a magical world.

– The characters are all really nice to each other. Even their teasing is polite.

– For a kids’ show, the writing is witty.

The Dubious:

– Why do the girl Muppet babies have to be nurses? Couldn’t Skeeter be a damn anesthesiologist? Or couldn’t Kermit be a nurse? Let’s imagine ourselves into some nonrestrictive gender roles!

– This animation probably won’t make it in the time capsule.

The Deliciously Crazy:

– The intercut footage of an actual ambulance. Because when Muppet babies dream, they dream episodes of Rescue 911.

– Nanny’s giant stockings, which linger in my dreams to this day.

The  Questions:

Did you guys watch this show? Is it still on anywhere? What did/do you think of it?

You guys… really? They’re making electronic paper now? First, there was the E-ink cover of Esquire’s 75th anniversary issue, with its flashing text embedded into a printed page.

And now Advertising Age is reporting that electronic ink and other “printed electronics” have started appearing on in-store displays in the Chicago area.

A cardboard cutout with a video in the middle doesn’t seem that crazy to me. Here’s the section of the Ad Age story that blew my mind:

Even for hardened marketers, it’s hard to get past the gee-whiz factor. “It’s just incredible what they’re doing,” said Tom Owen, director of in-store merchandising for Henkel of America (formerly known as Dial Corp.), when Nth Degree executives showed him an 8½-by-11-inch sheet of paper running a video snippet from the original “Star Trek” series. (Moving newspaper photographs in Harry Potter movies come to mind.)

A piece of paper with a movie on it? Harry Potter’s magical newspaper on my stoop?

This could lead to some really cool stuff. I mean, I’d love to have an animated comic book.

But advertisers could also go ape shit over this technology. Oh, who am I kidding? They will go ape shit over it. And then a walk down C-Town’s frozen food aisle will be like a weekend in Vegas. The Boca Chik Patties will dance on their cardboard packaging. The Native American lady on the Land o’ Lakes container will sing about the freshness of her butter. Zac Efron will appear on an individual serving of cottage cheese, singing about how sexy it is to eat healthy snacks.

Meanwhile, stillness and silence will become hot commodities. People will spend a fortune to stay at a hotel  where the toilet paper doesn’t have an accent.

Part of me wishes this innovation would disappear, but there’s probably no stopping it. I just hope it gets used sparingly–lest some crazy person snap because the T.V. dinners won’t stop screaming.

Not all one hit wonders are like Lou Bega. Sometimes, you can remember an artist’s lone popular single without retching. You can wistfully wonder what might have been… if only they’d had a comeback, a follow-up, or a reality series.

And if VH-1 specials have taught us anything, it’s that this brand of one-hit wonder doesn’t just disappear. Instead, these artists keep making music for a smaller group of fans.

I tell you this, my friends: A couple of these persevering musicians are still worth our time. If you want to enjoy the work of one-hit wonders who deserved more days in the spotlight, then crank the following hits!

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Check out my review of Rock of Ages, which is possibly the first jukebox musical in history with genuine wit.

The show has at two sublime numbers, features a charming performance by Constantine Maroulis, and proves the enduring awesomeness of Journey. What more do you need, people? What more do you need?

For tickets, go here.

If it hasn’t yet come to your city, start monitoring the multiplexes. If it’s already playing where you live, maybe you should pick up some tickets for tonight (You can always watch Heroes online.)

Because Happy-Go-Lucky, the new film from Secrets & Lies and Vera Drake auteur Mike Leigh, is as exhilarating a cinematic experience as you are likely to have this year.

Are those big words? Yes. Do I mean them? Absolutely. Between this and Rachel Getting Married, the fall has embarrassed us with riches. Usually, I’m lucky to find two movies a year that I want everyone to see, and this time, I’ve seen two in just a few weeks. Throw in T.I.’s new song and the promise of a great season of Lost, and you’ll see why I’m in a good mood right now. (Well, that and this really delicious honey bun I’m eating.)

But anyway… Plenty of critics have discussed why this movie, about a London primary school teacher who has mastered being happy, is so remarkable. At Salon, Stephanie Zacharek points out that Sally Hawkins (as the teacher, Poppy) creates layer after layer in her character, letting us see that her kindness is not the product of simple-mindedness. Rather, Poppy is a “screwball humanist” who has worked out a way to live openly and intelligently.

In The New Yorker, David Denby applies that philosophy to the whole movie. “It’s an argument for making one’s way through life with a relaxed will and an open heart,” he says.

I haven’t given you much plot, but like all Leigh films, plot feels secondary here. Everything is in service to a grander idea.

That said, the movie is not an esoteric drag. It’s actually loads of fun: There are hilarious scenes, like Poppy’s tango classes and her regular driving lessons with her misanthropic instructor Scott (Eddie Marsan.)

Her final lesson with Scott is also a lynchpin to the film. It changes from funny to terrifying to transcendent in about three minutes, and it has even more impact because of a weird scene in the middle of the film. I’ll discuss that after the jump.

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