I believe it was Ken Burns who observed that documentarians are the most important people in the known universe. But as a humble member of the esteemed Documentarian Community, I’ve always had my doubts about that statement. Today, with some embarrassment, I must admit that my humility may have been misplaced. There is now overwhelming evidence that my award-qualifying 2003 documentary, The Old Negro Space Program, has influenced, if not goaded, President Obama into nominating General Charles F. Bolden. Jr. as the first African-American to lead NASA.

The response:

My latest project is a new comedy on the Starz Network. Hollywood Residential gives you a picture of Hollywood that you will never see on “Entourage.” It’s about a man barely managing to hang onto the fringes of show business.

The man, Tony King, is the host of a low-budget cable show that does home makeovers for celebrities. Tony is a frustrated actor himself. A terrible actor. And only marginally better as a handyman. All he wants is to be an insider. But his celebrity guests treat him like the help. To make matters worse, Tony’s show has recently hired a co-host, a beautiful, charming woman who is instantly more successful than Tony. She’s on her way up. Tony is not.

Part of the fun of Hollywood Residential is that we shot with real celebrities playing themselves. Our eight-episode season includes Paula Abdul, Tom Arnold, Carmen Elektra, Jamie Kennedy, Chris Kattan, Cheryl Hines, John Cho and Beverly D’Angelo. They all had a blast making fun of themselves and Hollywood.

The other part of the fun is that, since we’re on pay-cable, we can have foul language and nudity. And yes, we took advantage of that. I have to say, shooting with naked people turned out to be much less awkward than I expected.

Watch Hollywood Residential on Starz. I’m proud of it.

It’s because taking an oath involves touching a bible, and he cannot safely do so without incurring second- or third-degree burns.

Bush, the devout Christian, understands this. And with his well-documented penchant for compassion and empathy, he simply refuses to put another human being in harm’s way to serve his purposes.

The press reports that Bush’s “compromise” would involve Rove speaking off the record to the Congressional committee. But that’s just the broad strokes.

In reality, the president’s compromise spells out in specific language, just how far away from a bible Rove must be at any given time, as well as what kind of protective clothing he is to be given, how often the word “bible” can be used in his presence, and what protocols should be followed if he happens to see a quote from the bible on his way into or out of the building. It’s more or less a Bible Restraining Order.

It’s not that the president doesn’t want the truth to come out, it’s just an extraordinary picture of how far President Bush is willing to go to keep another American safe.

And these kinds of precautions are not new to the Bush Administration. For example, it was widely reported that former Attorney General John Ashcroft held daily prayer meetings at the DOJ. But what’s not well known is that for these prayer meetings, the bible had to literally be teleconferenced in from a safe location. Ashcroft himself couldn’t look at the screen. But an intern from Bob Jones University would look at the screen and then paraphrase the relevant passages. It took a tremendous amount of coordination and expense. But no one disputes it was worth it.

And of course, the biggest hero in all this is Vice President Dick Cheney. Bush has begged him to take precautions against Bible Burns. But this brave man’s man strolls into the White House each and every day, wearing no Haz-Mat suit, no asbestos gloves, no welder’s helmet or anything. The press will tell you about his “heart condition,” but the truth is, Dick Cheney is being slowly burned alive from the inside by the bible across the hall in the Oval Office. An extraordinary sacrifice.

This is not a joke, just something that fell into my lap I must share. As far as I know it is a real, actual memo written by Howard Hughes at what appears to be the height of his OCD. Click on the memo to see the pdf. Here is the text:

OPERATING MEMORANDUM

Subject: Proper operating procedure for Bungalow 1 C Date October 13, 1958

There are certain areas within the Bungalow 1 C area that have been set aside by Johnny Holmes for the storage of my personal things. There are also other areas that have been set aside for future use by Johnny and his people. These designated areas, which Johnny will mark clearly or designate verbally to all concerned, should be avoided by everyone outside of Johnny’s area of operation. I do not want anybody, under any circumstances, no matter what the emergency may be, to touch these areas or go anywhere near them. I do not want anyone to touch the telephone that Johnny uses, nor any of his equipment that he has put away in storage in the Bungalow or any of my things there, or anything connected with my things.

It is extremely important to me that nobody ever, under any circumstances, no matter what the emergency may be, no matter how extreme the emergency, no matter what pressures are put on, no matter how unusual the circumstances may be, goes into any room, closet, cabinet, drawer, or any other area which is either used by Johnny or indicated by Johnny to be reserved by him for my things in connection with my food operation or any other phase of my operation that Johnny takes care of. I want to make sure that nobody opens any doors to any rooms, closets, cabinets, drawers or in any way, touches any portion of these areas.

I say again, no matter how strong the emergency may be, no matter how extreme the emergency may be, no matter how unusual the circumstances may be, no matter how extreme the emergency, it is extremely important to me that nobody – nobody ever, ever goes into any room, closet, cabinet, drawer, bathroom, which is either used by Johnny or indicated by Johnny to be reserved for him, or which is used to store any of the things used in connection with my food, magazines or anything that is used for me.

I say once more, no matter, no matter what the emergency, no matter how extreme the emergency, no matter how unusual the circumstances, it is extremely important to me; I say once more, no matter how extreme the emergency, no matter how unusual the circumstances may be, no matter what may have arisen, it is extremely important to me that nobody ever goes into any room, closet, cabinet, drawer, bathroom or any other area used to store any of the things which are for me – either food, equipment, magazines, paper supplies, Kleenex – no matter what. And, it is also extremely important to me that no matter what the emergency, no matter how unusual the circumstances, no matter what may have come up, no matter what kind of emergency, it is also equally important to me that nobody ever goes into any room or bathroom or any other area which Johnny has indicated is to be reserved to him only, and it is also equally important that nobody ever touches my telephone or piece of furniture or any fixture or anything of that kind which Johnny has indicated is reserved for him.

Instructions should be given for the operators so that they are not allowed to put calls through there into Johnny’s telephone – which is Bung. I C – so that nobody calls there. Sometimes it rings and the third man has to stall around getting through to the operator to have it switched. Something should be done so the other phone is the one that rings – do you have that kind of deal? I don’t want the third man using that phone, and when it rings it’s a temptation for him to pick it up.

I want you to get the third man on the phone and give him all these Instructions and be awfully, awfully sure when you are talking to him, be sure, be certain, be absolutely positive when you are talking to your third man today or any other time, be sure that he is not using Johnny’s phone, that he is not in a room reserved for Johnny and that he is not in a room used to store any of my things. This is awfully, awfully important to me. I want you to be sure, awfully sure, be certain, be positive that nobody goes into any room or cabinet or closet that is used to store any things in connection with my operation. This is equally important to me – it is equally important to me that nobody ever opens any door or opening to any room, cabinet or closet or anything used to store any of my things, even for one-thousandth of an inch for one-thousandth of a second. This applies even when he does not go in, you understand, even if the man does not enter, it is equally important to me that nobody ever opens the door or the drawer even for a fraction of an inch for a fraction of a second – any drawer, closet, or room, you understand – that is used to store any of my things, whether they be stored or just sitting there, because I don’t want the possibility of dust or insects or anything of that nature entering. I want every thing I have indicated here to be followed to the letter.

I want everything I have said here to be clearly gone over, reviewed, and repeated to everyone concerned. Maybe it ought to be written up – typewritten – and given to the men out in Bungalow 1 C. In fact, I think it not only should be written up and handed to them, but they should commit it to memory and repeat it back to you (Kay) so that you are convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they have it down thoroughly.

Until further orders from me, I want nobody ever to set foot in that Bungalow (1 C) or any of those rooms we have anywhere near the Bungalow excepting only Johnny Holmes, and the two waiters – Karl and Charlie – and the number three men and Harvey. This instruction includes Roy, Harris and George.

When you’re up, everyone needs to hear about it • Don’t let anyone tell you where you can and can’t pee • Fuck everything • Every once in a while, you may have to eat some shit • Don’t get near any other cocks, and don’t let them get near you • It doesn’t matter how big you are, just how loud you are • Know the pecking order • They want you, they all want you, you know they want you • Just because nobody’s listening, it’s no reason to shut up • The only thing you have to know about sex is “yes” • Subtlety gets you nowhere • Brains are overrated • Everywhere you look, there’s something edible •

Q. What part of the word “no” didn’t you understand?
A. Actually the word “no” has only one part. And I understand it completely. My persistence has nothing to do with a lack of understanding. Jackass.

Q. Do you expect me to believe that?
A. My expectations have no relevance here. I am simply stating the facts as I understand them. Pindick.

Q. Why do I get stuck with all the losers?
A. Because of your shitty haircut.

Q. Hot enough for you?
A. Yes it is. My body’s requirement for heat is being met, perhaps even exceeded. Now that I think about it, it’s actually quite a bit hotter than I would prefer. But I’m getting off track here. You only asked if it was hot enough for me, and to that, my answer is yes. A resounding yes.

Q. How many times do I have to tell you?
A. That is impossible to determine without the benefit of hindsight. I suggest we avoid even attempting to predetermine how many times you have to tell me. Simply tell me as many times as it takes to achieve your desired result, and then the answer to your question will be self-evident.

Q. Who’s asking?
A. Rocko.

Q. How much do you love me right now?
A. You got tickets?!! God, I called every place in town! They said “O” is sold out for five months! What did you do, blow the concierge or something? Hey, what’s that look for? Geez I make one little joke. Meanwhile I have to listen to you sing that awful Kenny Rogers song every time I get up from a Blackjack table. This is not the weekend I had in mind. I’m sorry. You know what? My blood sugar must be really low. Can we get a bagel or something?

Q. What will they think of next?
A. The next thing they will think of is a way to clone chicken eggs, which will reduce the cost of store-bought eggs by taking the chicken completely out of the loop.

Q. Was that a promise or a threat?
A. It was a threat. Albeit, an empty one. But not as empty as your half-assed challenge to it. Fuckwit.

Q. Who would fuck him?
A. Any person who finds him sufficiently attractive or compelling. Or a whore.

Q. Could you be any stupider?
A. No. I am as stupid, or for that matter, as smart, as I can possibly be. Of course, I am capable of learning, in which case I will become more knowledgeable. I could suffer brain damage, in which case I would become less aware. But my basic intelligence level is more or less set. Pompous fuck.

Q. Working hard or hardly working?
A. Don’t give me that fake camaraderie, you glad-handing jack-off. I’m working and you’re pretending to be like me by asking that pointless question. You’re probably going to bill someone for the time you spent on this non-conversation. Moron.

Q. What the hell do you know about butyrylcholinesterase K variants?
A. A lot more than Gandys and Schoefield, that’s for sure. I was on the original team that determined the frequency of the BCHE-K genotype in the first place, so don’t be so quick to judge. Asswipe.

Q. How bad am I?
A. Superbad, my man. Superbad.

Q. How fucking hard is it to make a good tv show?
A. Really hard.

Add your own. It’s fun.