Someone once said my column reminds them of Joan Rivers and I nearly puked in horror. Come on now. Joan Rivers is not only totally devoid of cultural relevance, but she is also dumb as a stump. Oscar night proved it. Here are some choice moments from her broadcast on E! that appeared in Entertainment Weekly:

"Gay Harden-if you're from New York, you know that's Latin for 'excited sissy'"-about Best Supporting Actress winner Marcia Gay Harden

"It's so exciting that the two of you produced Gladiator together!"-to Lucy Fisher and Douglas Wick, who did NOT produce Gladiator together

"Are you excited for your first nomination?"-to Catherine Zeta-Jones who was NOT nominated

WHAT IT FEELS LIKE FOR A G-R-R-R-R-L

Since more than one person has told me that In the (K)now is best read on the toilet, I'm assuming that you're all alone while you read this in the confines of your terribly-lit dorm bathroom. Now, close your eyes and think back, think way way back to 1995 when angry girl rock filled the airwaves, CD shelves and music video rotations with feminist venom, unapologetic male-bashing and histrionic yelps. Indeed, it was not so long ago that Alanis Morissette and her badly-dressed disciples ruled the land, deflating bubblegum pop and appropriating "bitch" as a lovable epithet. (Speaking of Alanis, I was floored when I found out that in "You Oughta Know," she isn't carping about a "cross-eyed bear that you gave to me," but rather lamenting the "cross I bear." I really think my version is much cooler, especially considering there are too few songs that discuss the importance of stuffed animals in our daily lives-i.e. whenever I get sad, I go play with the plush koalas in the Discovery Channel Store.) Anyway, to make a long story short, Alanis helped expurgate long-standing rage-and with this mass catharsis came mass complacency. The Spice Girls were born, TRL helped launch Britney, Christina and the other blonde nincompoops, and angry chic just seemed, well, old. But perhaps the world just got a bit too mysogynistic for its own good-in the past few weeks, we are seeing hints that the unconscious rage might be surfacing...

"Music" was all about her ghetto booty, "Don't Tell Me" suggested a penchant for square-dancing cowboys, but now Madonna's third single off her new album-entitled "What It Feels Like for a Girl"-shows us that deep down the Material Girl still has some hardcore rage to work out. The wonderfully subversive video was banned by MTV which now refuses to air it because it's "irresponsible." The decision is befuddling for a number of reasons. First, MTV airs "irresponsible" shows all the time. "Undressed" makes me cringe with its inane, orgiastic storylines which are no better than something you would see on late-night Showtime. And even though I adore "Jackass," it certainly is not "responsible"-the opening disclaimer is written parodically and the stunts can easily be imitated (set yourself on fire, straddle a skunk, dive into a pile of elephant poop, chase naked midgets around South Central, etc.). Second, the Madonna video-directed by her husband Guy Ritchie-is not only relatively tame, but also profoundly significant. Beautifully photographed and set to an edgy dance-remix of the song, it depicts a battered wife who tears around town bashing into people's cars, robbing men at ATMs and shooting policemen with water guns, before deliberately crashing into a pole to kill herself. Not only is MTV running scared, but they are coming across as incredibly unjust. After all, it is a strange double standard when Eminem can rap about decapitating his wife or stabbing someone in the head if they are a "fag or a lez," no? MTV's cowardly ban on the video proves Madonna's point: The batterer gets to vent, but a girl who fights back will not only be categorically silenced, but also completely ignored.

Heartbreakers, starring Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt, puts another variation on the revenge chick theme. Siggy plays a vampy mom who seduces wealthy bachelors into marriage; Love plays the slutty daughter who seduces the newly married husband, facilitating her mom's collection of a divorce settlement. The mother-daughter con team might seem like a wickedly creative path to vengeance, but the film's premise is undercut both by the omnipresence of Love's breasts which flounce around in every scene as implied compensation for her poor thespian skills (and the fact that she just started dating Alec Baldwin makes us question her doe-eyed ingénue act) and the fact that the movie never shocks us with sinister nastiness. Girls marrying rich husbands and draining their bank accounts-Anna Nicole Smith gave us a far more entertaining version of the story without making us pay $10.

And leave it to Barbra Streisand to get in on the vengeful-minx glee. In a letter to Democratic representatives, Streisand lambasted George W. Bush for being a "destructive man." Urging the Dems to declare war on Republicans, Streisand lashed out, "We have a president who was selected rather than elected. He stole the presidency through family ties, arrogance and intimidation, employing Republican operatives to exercise the tactics of voter fraud by disenfranchising thousands of blacks, elderly Jews and other minorities." Oooh, how cool would it be to see Hillary vs. Barbra for the Democratic nom in 2004? Talk about catfights...

IN THE (K)NOW SUPERSTARS!

It Show: Stephen Scott's Son... There are a couple of major productions going up this weekend. One of them is rumored to be a spectacular bust (which makes it worth seeing, no?), while the other-Stephen Scott's Son-should be a resounding triumph. Directed by Andrew Boch and written by hotshot playwright Michael Ragozzino '01, Scott's Son examines the differences between fame and greatness in a fanciful story of father and son. It's building buzz and will be a hot ticket when it opens in the Loeb Ex this Thursday night.

SOMAN'S SHORTS

www.somanintheknow.com. 100% arsenic free...Everybody looks so tan these days! But look closely and you'll see the difference between a good tan and a bad one. See, a good tan is even and gives you that golden, creamy glow. A not-so-good tan gives you that smoky I-just-came-out-of-a-burning-house look and usually indicates an overeager exposure to the sun sans sunscreen. The weird thing is that I keep noticing boys who successfully got the golden glow and girls who look revolting. Hmmm...The Oscars were mediocre, save Steve Martin and Julia Roberts. The former lightened up the ceremony with crackling wit and airy one-liners ("I was wondering why there were no tigers or dragons in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. And then I realized-they're crouching...and hidden") while Julia managed to be obnoxious and wonderfully endearing at the same time. As for fashions, the fear of hitting tabloids' Worst Dressed Lists looms heavy, so the outfits were not only tame, but thunderously boring. A couple of exceptions. Angelina Jolie looked fantastic in a white pantsuit. And Jennifer Lopez, of course, ruined a perfectly nice outfit by wearing a diaphanous top. (I literally had to get two inches from the screen to figure out whether it was indeed see-through, but my mom's bloodcurdling scream from the upstairs bedroom confirmed my suspicions.) Oh, and Oscar or no Oscar, I still hate Gladiator...I was shocked when I heard that Nicole Kidman's publicist confirmed that she had a miscarriage a couple weeks back. Celebrities usually never reveal such intimate details. But after Tom Cruise navigated the publicity storm so well by making himself out to be the victim of their breakup, it seems that Nicole's spokeswoman saw a prime chance to take revenge. Now Tom suddenly seems the callous one for dumping a pregnant woman...Strangely, I find myself listening to Ace of Base a lot these days. I guess senioritis extends to personal taste as well. But where should I draw the line? Suppose I start craving Celine Dion ballads, John Grisham novels, or-gasp-Gwyneth movies? Ack! S.O.S! Save Our Soman!