How I spent my week off from this column, by Geoff Carter. I did not get drunk. No sir. And that's about all you need to know. It's not that I've developed a sudden, overwhelming concern for my health and well-being - that sort of thing is for the weak. (Whenever I see people jogging, I roll down my window and holler, "Remember Jim Fixx!") No, I didn't get drunk this week because I'm going to Thailand in four weeks, and I want to keep my weight down so I can fit into a sarong. What else did I do? I watched that Robert Carlyle movie, the one where he eats people. I like Carlyle; he gives personality to a simple head-butt. If I could butt heads like Robert Carlyle, I'd be a millionaire. Imagine - a web columnist who can head-butt! Why, I'd take out half the crew at Slashdot, that Jennicam broad, that dipshit Harry Knowles ... and then I'd eat the carcasses. Perhaps I should get drunk this week, after all.

Space is big. Space is pretty. My friend Chad used to do a "Star Trek" / Public Enemy rap about space that went a little something like this (read in your best Patrick Stewart): "Space ... how low can you go? Death row / whatta brother knows..." I don't remember where I was going with that, to be honest with you. At any rate, a visit to Space.com is highly recommended. The site touches on every aspect of space exploration - from NASA's launch schedule to the episode of "Star Trek: Voyager" that was on last night - and does so in a manner that gets you excited about the subject. Watch the launch of a Delta rocket; meet the team that's modernizing the Space Shuttle Columbia; preview the new series "Roswell." Never before has space exploration and its related subjects been handled in such a hip, jargon-free and thoroughly engaging manner. You can easily spend hours here. Space is in the house, yo!
 

"Oh, mighty Isis..." I didn't give much thought to Isis as a kid. She was (is) a DC Comics character, star of a 1975 Filmation series and the opposite number of mighty, mighty fratboy Shazam (if you've no idea what I'm talking about, you're under 28; skip to the next site). She had him trumped in the costume department - where Shazam looked every bit the hapless dope that gets sent to a five-year-old boy's birthday party, Isis was cool and club-ready. Played to type by JoAnna Cameron, Isis was a leggy, no-nonsense proto-Xena in go-go boots and a skirt short enough to cause pileups at busy intersections. Her hair was long, silky black. Her eyes promised either a night of romance or a profusely bleeding head wound. Actually, she kinda looked like a Caesar's Palace cocktail waitress, but so what? You gonna say that to her face? You can get to know her at the Unofficial Secrets of Isis Website - a devoted, well-done fan page - or at the Secret of Isis page, part of a site devoted to that meathead Captain Marvel, with a lot of broken links but a fine photo gallery. But don't get too friendly with her. She can whoop your skinny ass from here to Giza and besides, she's coming home with me for espressos and tiramisu if my mom says it's okay.
 

It had a broken leg, Timmy ... it was for the best. The Advertising Graveyard digs up print and web ads that never made it past that enemy of all things creative, the client. Some are brilliant - look for the Ericsson vibrating phone ad - while others should not only have been shot down, but also incinerated and buried in consecrated ground. (That Beatles Reunion ad, for starters.) It's fascinating reading, and provides a somewhat chilling insight into the business of dreams: This is the funhouse mirror that our consumer culture has made. It's all part of Jeffrey Zeldman's clean, well-lit site and well worth an extended stay.
 

John Cusack, Cameron Diaz, Catherine Keener and John Malkovich star in "Being John Malkovich" the big-screen debut of video director Spike Jonze (Fatboy Slim's "Praise You," The Beastie Boys' "Sabotage"). And that, my dears, is just about all the straight-up information I can give you about this film. The rest seems to be wildly speculative and - not to put too fine a point on it - dog-ass weird. Here's what we know: Cusack's character finds a portal in his office (on the 7 ½ floor, natch) that leads to the inside of John Malkovich's brain. After 15 minutes (again, natch) of Being John Malkovich, the would-be Academy Award-nominee is spit out of Malk's noodle, into "a ditch on the side of the New Jersey Turnpike." About the only thing this film has against it, going in, is that I didn't think of it first. Search the official site for clues and nuggets of clarity, but mostly, check out the photos, behind-the-scenes stuff and the trailer. Oh my lord, the trailer. The heart swells. The brain opens wide and smiles.

Say ... what if someone finds a way to get into The Passenger's head? With its low clearances, crazy, crazy hairpin turns and state of general disrepair, somebody could get hurt in my noggin. I might even get sued! To hell with that ... I'm getting drunk!