Ice falls from the sky as tears plip-plop onto wall-to-wall carpeting.

A big splashy rendering of Hollywood in hot action. The babes, the boobs, the boo-boos and the inner triumphs all brought to the screen by the uncorked youth and uncouth old bats of the San Francisco Art Institute.

A deliberately tasteless drama about televangelist scandals.

This title is also available on The World of George Kuchar.

The artists of the future and the past converge and converse as the funding dries up and extrapolation envisions extinction.

The season sweeps through in a blur of glitches, gulps and sweetened goo, as chimes wring out the old and ring in the new.

The five-and-dime store pulsates with the stench of she-who-shops. Follow this ragdoll apparition as she haunts the futuristic landscape of our buried past and rejoice in the resurrection of the cellar celebrity.

A brief visit with a graduate student in the painting department of the art college where Kuchar teaches and the discussion that follows the unveiling of his work.

George spends a week in Los Angeles on business and at eating engagements. “I eat in Beverly Hills and do my business behind closed doors for a change....”

A portrait of Marion Eaton, film and stage actress, etched with a green thumb and a brown nose.

A stay in Fairfiled, Iowa reveals the American dream being riddled with that which dwells on distant planes and the need for our nation’s people to express the forces of good and evil via videography and pyrotechnical vomit.

A black-and-white drama that lays bare the earth-shattering events surrounding the rise and fall of certain members of the communal body in a California town ravaged by subterranean forces.

A tour of literary scraps that litter the highway of lost souls in search of publications to be publicized. The crush of printed pulp as it smears its way through the various media that feed off its symbols and excesses.