I remember strolling through my college bookstore during my freshman year, leafing through just about any book I brushed against in an attempt to fill my burgeoning brain with all the world's knowledge. My fingers didn't spill over Nick McDonell's Twelve so much as they stubbed into it, and as I reflexively peeled back the front cover of the previously loved novel, I saw that a former owner had written the following on the first page: "This is a very, very horrible book." Okay, so maybe we can just call it "used." I left it there on the shelf in the hopes that I could revisit it over the course of the year and see how long it might take for someone to ignore its warning. By the time I returned the next day the book had already been sold. Evidently -- and to our collective misfortune -- that copy was not purchased by Joel Schumacher.

Schumacher's cinematic adaptation of Twelve opened last weekend to a Rotten Tomatoes rating of 4%, which suggests that the film is exactly half as good as M. Night Shymalan's The Last Airbender (8%). Even so, Twelve was accepted and then debuted at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year, the star-studded and widely loathed flick quickly becoming emblematic of everything that is wrong with Robert Redford's once respectable indie happening. The film's weekend gross of $110,238 may not seem so tragic at first, but when you consider that the film opened at 231 engagements, therefore making only $477 per theater, things suddenly get grim. Very, very grim. Comparatively, The A-Team scraped together $789 per engagement, nearly doubling Twelve's take despite being in its 9th week of release. Do you know anyone who saw The A-Team this weekend? I don't even know anyone who saw The A-Team during the last 8 weeks.