THIS EMMY SMELLS LIKE CUMIN: In case NPH hosting alone isn't sufficient awesomeness, how does a Dr. Horrible production number tomorrow night sound to you? No word on if there's any new material, who's writing, or who's involved, though tweets from Maurissa Tancharoen and Felicia Day suggest that they may be. Coverage will be live in some form during the show (though we're still deciding if just through an open thread or through CoverItLive--if you have thoughts on the subject, weigh in below.

ETA: There seems to be some CIL demand, so I think I've set one up, which'll go up not long after 7:30 to let us discuss pregame and/or red carpet. If you have suggestions for Tweets we should pipe in (we'll almost certainly be putting in Sepinwall and Feinberg's, with maybe some of the celebs who've claimed they're planning on Tweeting while there) or participants, we're more than happy.

GO AHEAD. NAME A SECOND EMMA LAZARUS POEM: The year 5770 begins in controversy as National Museum of American Jewish History has announced its first 18 inductees into its "Only in America" Hall of Fame. Sure, gimmes like Einstein, Brandeis, Koufax, Salk and Bernstein made the first cut for induction, but looking at the initial 218 nominees reveals some serious omissions from this inaugural class. Where are the Marx Brothers? Joe Shuster and Jerome Siegel, the creators of Superman? Perhaps some sporting love for Berg, Greenberg or Spitz?

Youngest nominees? Sergey Brin and Larry Page, whose religion I had never contemplated. And I'm just guessing that nominees Judah Benjamin and Bess Myerson will be waiting a long time for the induction call.

[edited for clarity]

LIGHT'S OUT: It is hard to imagine a scripted television program from today lasting another seventy years, yet that's what Guiding Light did -- fifteen years on radio, and another fifty-six years of serialized, daily television drama before ending today. Guiding Light is the only soap I ever watched -- for a few years in middle and high school, as it was my mom's show as well -- and I still have vague but fond memories of the various combinations and machinations of Bauers, Spauldings and Lewises.

The causes of the show's demise (and the soap format generally) are obvious -- scripted dramas cost much more than talk shows to produce, and the stay-at-home television audience is not what it was for reasons of feminism and economics. But it's important to acknowledge that we are rapidly losing an American cultural form as unique as the Broadway musical, however silly and archaic this one may seem, and it is a loss.

Last night, Jen and I went to see comedian Jeffrey Ross do a reading of his new memoir, I Only Roast the Ones I Love. And beyond all the well-timed barbs (NSFW) at the random members of the audience ("Who dressed you for tonight, FEMA?" "You look like the son of Art Garfunkel and ... help me out here ..." to which the respondent offered Larry Fine) was a deep respect for the roasters of an earlier age -- Milton Berle and Buddy Hackett in particular. Ross fears the art of the tummler is dying, and while he's doing what he can to keep it alive and tell stories of the past, he had no real answer for the question of what those of us outside of the comic community could do to learn more about what made the Berles and Hacketts so memorable to them. There's no YouTube of them at their filthiest, sadly (though this ain't a bad joke) -- just the oral traditions handed down within the comedic community, and the sanitized versions from network tv of what they could do. The Borscht Belt is dead, and its comedians are on cultural life support.

[Incidentally, both Ross and I are reading the same book right now: I'm Dying Up Here, William Knoedelseder's book on the 1970s Los Angeles comedy scene. More on that later.]

STANLEY WITH THE POISON PRETZEL IN THE PARKING LOT:Yes, it's Clue: The Office. Jim, Pam, Angela, Phyllis, Stanley, and Dwight must determine who "killed" Toby as part of a fun team-building exercise from Michael Scott.

THE PLACE IS LIKE A MUSEUM. IT'S VERY BEAUTIFUL AND VERY COLD AND YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH ANYTHING: Even with the interest generated by John Hughes' death, my neighbors are still having trouble selling Cameron Frye's house (hopefully they aren't using Ferris' description in the marketing materials), so much so that Landmarks Illinois has listed the home on its Chicagoland Watch List for 2009-10 (among the other interesting sites is Marlon Brando's high school). Be sure to watch the accompanying video about the house, which is historic and worth saving for many more reasons beyond it being the site of Ferrari crashing into a ravine.

And speaking of Hughes, The Chicago Tribune's Christopher Borrelli wrote an interesting look back at Hughes' high school oeuvre and how it ruined his life. Borrelli also provides a sure-to-be controversial list of the 10 best high school movies since Hughes' last (1987's Some Kind of Wonderful), which includes such perennial faves as Dazed and Confused and Mean Girls alongside more obscure choices like Raising Victor Vargas and The Class.

NOW I'MMA GONNA LET YOU FINISH: But Beyonce has the most sinister mind control video of all time.

WHEN I COME AROUND: For those of you anticipating the Green Day musical coming to Broadway, here's a review of the world premiere in Berkeley.

Also, if you've got $4.9M burning a hole in your pocket, you can buy Billie Joe Armstrong's pad in Oakland.