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Thanks to the magic of the internets and relatively affordable Southwest airbus fares, Defamer will be covering the Sundance Film Festival for an unprecedented (for us, anyway) second straight year. I'm off to Park City, Hollywood's temporary refugee colony in the mountains of Utah, to file man-on-the-street, man-waiting-in-line-for-four-hours-to-see-something-for which-Paramount-Classics-will-tragically-overpay, and, most importantly, drunken-man-at-the-open-bar-typing-on-a-Treo reports. As always, the offer stands: If you have a party with some free booze that demands guzzling by a blogger you later want to dig out of a snow drift, you know where to find me.

In the meantime, Seth will be holding down the fort locally, and I leave you to leap into his bearish, but surprisingly tender, embrace.