No Dancin' Today

Sorry for the neglect here. Things will be sporadic until I get grad school stuff figured out. Le sigh.

In the meantime enjoy this and join my internal debate over who is hotter: purple leather-clad, ex-stripper Jake or adorably babyfaced Del. Beware though. The song positively infects your head.

"What did you expect? Con-dams?"

I know everyone and their mother is all about it, but here are my top five reasons for loving "Shoes":

5) Tom Skerritt

4) "I'm gonna bitchslap ya, shitbag!"

3) The stoic girl with the guitar

2) The talking-on-cell phones montage

1) "These shoes are three hundred fucking dollars."

Remembrance: Addendum

Okay, so I was just sitting in yet another coffee shop and Beck's "Devil's Haircut" came on and oh my God, JUNIOR HIGH.

Remembrance of Fop Music Past

It's my last year of college and I'm finding that, at a time when I desperately need to be looking at my future, my surroundings are making me nostalgic for the past. More than ever I'm realizing how much my music reminds me of places and people of my past. It's like, I was sitting in a coffee shop and the barista was playing Rusted Root on the stereo. (Which, I swear, only in Ann Arbor.) Rusted Root is so undeniably autumn-of-my-junior-year-of-high-school that I am unable to separate the two. Neither realities exist without each other. If Rusted Root did not exist, my memories of that high school semester would be completely altered. So you can see why I get so nostalgic about these things. And this is why I'm unable to get work done in coffee shops.

My college years are well typified by certain artists. Royksopp and Dandy Warhols are freshman year. Depeche Mode and Zero 7 are sophomore year. Metric and Utah Saints are junior year, with Hooverphonic getting tagged in during the sad times. The summers in between each year are embodied by Franz Ferdinand ('04), Fischerspooner ('05) and Sia ('06). Going even further, Annie is my 20th birthday. Esthero is my 18th birthday. Beck is working at the Italian cafe. Salt-N-Pepa is driving around York. The Cranberries is driving around Kalamazoo with my sister; Etta James with my mom. Rufus Wainwright's Poses is high school musical practice. Nelly Furtado is my old bedroom. Faithless is visiting Michigan with Sasha. Morcheeba is moving across campus for the first time. Nightmares on Wax is snowy Ann Arbor. Arcade Fire is cloudy New York. Cirrus is mountainous Pennsylvania. And so on and on.

I suppose the point is, the future is making me way tense and I don't want to think about it. Maybe I can reconcile my old music and memories with my anxieties for what's to come. Until I figure everything out, I'll just think about that time I drank too much wine in my old room while listening to The Faint.

Stop Being Polite and Start Getting...Shameless?

Oh my. Here I am, a mere twenty-one years old and faced with the most daunting existential question of my mortal life:

Should I or should I not audition for The Real World?

Ever since hearing about the open casting call that will happen a few blocks away, I've been racking my brain to the point of sleeplessness and self-starvation. On one hand, there is the potential for reality-based television stardom and all of the perks of actually getting on the show. Free rent for a few months. A cushy job. A series of promotional gigs and lectures after the taping. All of that good stuff. And if for some strange and unlikely reason I'm not chosen for the show, at least I could get a funny story out of the audition and the chance to wear the "Yeah, I auditioned for The Real World" badge for the rest of my young adulthood and beyond.

Yet, there is always the other hand to consider. I suppose the chances of me getting on the show are a weensy bit slim. Moreover, the audition might not even be interesting enough for any sort of story, funny or not, and it certainly doesn't help that I don't have anything remotely interesting about myself to say. But most importantly: the shame. The shame of actually showing up to a Real World audition and whoring myself out with my peers. Of having to share a campus with a group of other shameless losers not even losery enough to get on the worst show on television, and consequently spending the next year avoiding eye contact with each other so that no one else may know our shame. Yes, we were rejected by the goddamn Real World. Does that make us unworthy people, I ask you? Does it?

So is it worth it? I'm looking for some answers before next Thursday. And maybe a buddy to go with. Who'll get a stiff drink with me afterwards. So that we may laugh and forget, forget the shame.

Fargo Fop City

I'm debating whether or not to see Chuck Klosterman next week when he, rather inexplicably, comes to the Borders in Ann Arbor. He comes off kind of dicky in interviews. And I didn't even know he released a new book. And I've only had enough interest in him to read Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs. Although I did like it a lot and now constantly ponder my position on the collarbone-breaking versus omnipresent-Alice-in-Chains-music dilemma as a result of my enjoyment of the book. So it could be fun. If anyone wants to go, let me know.

Project Runway Postulate #137B

Because if anything is lacking from this incisive dog-and-pony show of a blog, it's PR commentary.

Today's theory: Gay men love Laura Bennett but are far exasperated with Kayne Gillaspie. Somewhat contrarily, women (of varying attractional identities) are enamored with Kayne but hate Laura.* Discuss.

I have found very few exceptions to my theory. These two designers are arguably the two in most danger of being eliminated before the finals, with many sources already predicting a Michael/Jeffrey/Uli top three. The two stand on opposite sides of the design spectrum and, as if that weren't enough, aren't really known for getting along with each other. So whose opinion is more valid? The female viewership who would ostensibly be wearing the designed garments and who just love a florid-minded, redheaded gay boyee? Or the gay men that appreciate a prim, attractive olderish woman who never strays from all that is well-tailored and tasteful?

You can probably guess how I feel about the issue. Nonetheless, with Vincent's departure marking the end of this season's hangers-on, this week's elim is going to be affecting no matter who it is, as these five have proven themselves pretty damn well over the weeks. It should be exciting. Now I just wish I hadn't put Allison Kelly in my final three prediction after the casting special.

*Currently, no assumptions could be made for straight men as the sample size is far from significant.

Things To Get Psyched About: Fall '06

Reality shows
Project Runway is reaching its conclusion, and the nation could not be more anxious to find out who will take the crown and who will go down in flames. (Kayne.) We've also got two reality premieres that feature more ethnically diverse casts than in past seasons. Survivor has its well-publicized race brawl stirring up a commotion while The Amazing Race responds to its criticism of being mostly white by simply casting more people of color...without a gimmick! There is another answer after all. AND, we have Top Model coming soon. Or not, depending on the longevity of the writers' strike. Such drama!

Running With Scissors
The film adaptation of Augusten Burroughes's memoir looks promising in spite of Gwyneth. And who doesn't love a crizazy Annette Bening?

Leaves
Pretty!

Halloween
Alcohol + Costumery = Best. Holiday. Evar. This fop is still looking for good costume ideas, too.

Cancelled shows
It's always fun to watch the how the networks unwisely invested their money and guessing which shows will get booted first. Come on, Ugly Betty, big bucks, no whammies, STOP!

Scarves
AKA my little, colorful security blankets.

Oscar Nomination Predictions
Notice that doesn't say Oscar winner predictions. These are just predictions for who will get nominated. Although clearly filler in most entertainment mags, they're fun and totally inane since, après tout, even if your picks get nominated, they still have a healthy chance of losing.

Not snow
Sure, there's cold rain sometimes. But, say it with me class, at least it's not snow.

The Shaw Report: The End of an Era?

The people over at Entertainment Weekly seem to have wised up, twofold. First, they give Project Runway the cover story and, and!, put Heidi AND TIM GUNN on the cover. I saw it while loitering around the Philadelphia airport and got pretty giddy. It's too bad the rest of the issue had more filler than an American Idol season finale.

Secondly, as my subscription ran out back in the spring, EW and I have been estranged for quite some time now. And because I'm a masochist, while waiting for the plane I flipped right away to the Style page and...no Jessica Shaw? Just a tired feature on the red carpet at the Video Music Awards? Whuh? So I flip around frantically until, lo and behold, there's The Shaw Report on the News + Notes page. But now, instead of the usual three-by-three matrix of irrelevance, Shaw has been downsized to a tiny spot in the bottom-left corner and only one category instead of three. (Celebrity Offspring, no less. Girl, please. That's so two months ago.)

Did the editors realize how inane the feature is, and how it offers nothing whatsoever to the advancement of popular culture? I certainly hope so. Because if I wanted to read tired filler features about which citrus fruit is "in" right now, I would pick up an Us Weekly or, if I was feeling particularly shameless, an In Touch. EW gets its share of criticism, but I have yet to find another weekly mag that keeps me as unpatronizingly informed about what's going on. So, thank you, EW, but can't we just get rid of The Shaw Report altogether?

Mini-Fop

Finding a job. Unpacking my apartment. Reading. Writing something meaningful in this blog. These are all productive things I should be doing on my last few days off. Instead I just spent the last twenty minutes making this:



Admittedly it doesn't look like me. But I'm pretty sure I have that sweater. So, you know, it's good to know that even the animated version of myself doesn't set his sights much higher than H&M, too.

Crashvivor

It's official. Here comes Survivor riding the coattails of success of The Best Picture Of The Year. Because the only thing hotter than reptiles on aircraft right now is racial tension, the tribes on the upcoming season of Survivor will be segregated separated by race. Host Jeff Probst says that the move is in response to criticisms that the cast is not racially diverse enough. So why not just cast more people of color and have them assigned to tribes in other equally arbitrary but less offensive ways? Ah, because that's not enough of a "twist".

The whole thing just feels kind of icky. The cast members cannot really avoid feeling like they're representing their whole race on national television. And while there will certainly be opportunities for education on racial intra- and intergroup relations, Survivor doesn't really pack the educational punch that a show like Black. White. does. I guess it's not even that important since I haven't watched Survivor since that season where the Mormon girl didn't win, and Brian is the only person I know who still watches regularly. But it's because of these sorts of production ploys that, out of all the long-running reality shows, Survivor always will feel the most gimmicky. Feh.

Summer Movie Bonanza: An Addendum

I thought last week's Snakes on a Plane premiere would be my final film viewing of the summer, foolishly, as I did not account for the next week I would be spending in PA. Another week, that is, of the kind of hometown ennui that one can only experience a week before the start of an academic semester. Unfortunately, this led me to seeing Accepted out of sheer nothing-better-to-doedness. Despite the occasional funny line and the supporting role of Strangers With Candy's Tammi Littlenut, the less said about the movie the better.

Fortunately, the next day I cleansed my gray matter with a late-night viewing of Little Miss Sunshine. (And all by myself, might I add, being the trudependent single gal that I am. Holla!) (God, I need to get some.) Little Miss delivered on all accounts, mostly because I don't remember the last movie, especially the last comedy I saw in which I cared so much about all of the characters. None of the characters are remotely perfect, though I should mention that Toni Collette always looks supercute and Steve Carell had a subtle foxiness I've never noticed before. (Anyone agree? No?) Everyone just does such a good job. Admittedly, I felt like it was going into mawkish land, but the bits of darkness and characters prevent a total mushfest. One of the best this year. Suck on that lemon, Accepted.

To Every Season

Back to school displays assault the eyes at Target. Vanity Fair's Style Issue is out in all its twenty-seven pound (but mercifully Tom Ford-less) glory. These are the official signs of the end of summer. And I am considering my viewing of Snakes on a Plane last night the end of my summer movie viewing bonanza.

It's been a summer of good movies (A Prairie Home Companion), bad movies (Poseidon, Stick It), middling movies (The Devil Wears Prada), and those all-too-forgettable movies (Mission: Impossible 3? A Scanner Darkly? Wuh? Did I actually see these?) I, for one, am glad that we can all move into the Fall and Winter seasons that usually offer more interesting fare.

Which I guess brings us to Snakes on a Plane. First of all, I don't know why I was there on opening night, since I never, ever go to movies on their opening nights. But there I was. I have never seen so many scenesters gathered together in York County, Pennsylvania in my life. If a meteor hurled into the theater, there would officially be no "scene" left in all of central PA, which would also have unforseen economic effects on the 24-hour diner and Salvation Army branches. But anyway, Snakes. It was what it was. There is a plane. There are snakes. Snakes biting eyeballs and genitals. Snakes constricting. Snakes [Spoiler!] eating tiny dogs. Snakes delivering comeuppance. The ridiculous factor is high, which, being a vehement snakeophobe, I appreciated greatly. I don't think I'd ever see it again, but it's an experience. It's also nice to see a film live up to its hype. I guess.

TG + MW 4 Evah

Tim Gunn on Kayne's dress from last night's PR: "...it was still a hot mess. Frankly, it looked like it was going to Pattycake’s birthday party at Angela’s art camp. Oh my. Maybe we should inaugurate a Jubilee Jumbles award?"

This? Is why I love this man. He also mentioned his disapproval over the judges' decision. I hate how the producers have to throw in at least one mid-season, WTF elimination. (Season One: Alexandra elimmed over Wendy; Season Two: Emmett over Santino.) Now we've jettisoned lovely Alison over godawful Vincent. Le sigh.

Vacay All I Ever Wanted

I'm heading home to PA for a few weeks to see the fam/friends and celebrate the birthday (Eeee!). Hopefully I'll be posting from there unless I'm absolutely ravaged by laziness. Which, you know, good possibility and all.

Rock of MySpace

Vote for James or die! Vote vote now!

Heeeee. I nominated James for this Queerty Men of MySpace Award awhile ago and totally forgot about it. You have to vote so he can get the title. Go now! On with you!

Game Show Marathon

Having recently moved into an apartment that boasts, in addition to an empty keg and a nasty ant problem, the beautiful world of digital cable, I have found myself watching Game Show Network for hours and hours on end. Game shows always have had a special place in my heart, since from the ages of about four to eight, I told everyone that I was going to be a game show host when I grew up, to proudly join the ranks of the Martindales and Cullens and Dawsons. But enough about my shattered aspirations. Here is what Game Show Network appears to be offering nowadays.

Match Game
Always a classic. It really makes you long for the seventies, when it was okay to smoke cigarettes, drink G&Ts, and talk with racist accents on game shows. Between Gene Rayburn’s all-around creepiness and Brett Somers’s inability to comprehend her surroundings, the show makes for more than a little hilarity. I would be interested in any good Match Game drinking games, if anyone knows of any.

Starface
One of those unessential, celebrity-themed game shows where all of the contestants seem like they were referred by their agents. Danny Bonaduce's performance as host unsurprisingly falls somewhere between “awkward” and “gravelly”.

Chain Reaction
This is GSN’s heavily advertised update of the ‘80s game show. It’s wordy, so naturally I like it; plus, the theme song consists of detached lyrics and a synthpop beat that has kind of become my jam. It’s an entertaining and stylish little game show without too much gimmick (Russian Roulette much?). Great bonus round, too.

Lingo
Sush and I have a better time playing this game online than we do actually watching it. Those lingo balls still look fun to play with, though. Also, shut up, Woolery.

Password Plus
I have said it before and I’ll say it again: Password is the most boring game show ever to be conceived. The best thing to come out of this show is the Family Guy where Peter goes on the show and tries to describe the word flaming to Tony Randall.

Press Your Luck
And we’re talking the original here, before the whammies were updated to look like cats. My opinion remains the same from when I was seven and used to watch the reruns on USA: this the best game show in the history of the genre.

Family Feud
I have a theory that there is a huge game show contestant pool somewhere in southern California where contestants are screened based on what show is best for them. The stupidest people get sent to Family Feud, avec relatives.

PR, You Are An Obsession. You're My Obsession.

I'm sitting here thinking of something to post and, as it has become normal for Wednesday afternoons, all that is running through my head is "PR PR PR PR PR PR PR".

What is it about this show that is so all-consuming. Why cannot I focus on Mel or Lance or Suri for three seconds on a Wednesday without my thoughts switching over to Tim, Nina and even farty old Michael Kors? Even right now I'm supposed to be preparing for a job interview and my train of thought keeps slipping from "Hmm, how can I compensate for my lack of experience in this field?" to "I wonder who breaks the rules. Maybe someone cheats somehow. Or maybe there's a sabotage move. Or maybe a fight breaks out. That'd be sweet. I hope they show more of Michael tonight because his stuff sure is pretty..." and so on and so on and you get it.

The point is, Bravo has managed to craft television crack. And the crackness can only be applied to this show. It's not like I sit around spending my precious hours wondering if Joanie can overcome her snaggletooth or if the hippies will ever stop mugging. It certainly doesn't help that I have watched every episode of PR3 around an average of 2.4 times.

In my mind, Project Runway is the closest we've come to perfection in a reality show since the first seasons of The Amazing Race and Survivor. My hopes at this point are that Bravo (a) doesn't overexpose us à la The Apprentice what with the new season starting every fortnight or so and (b) doesn't tamper too much with the formula à la The Amazing Race. And please, PLEASE, never do an "all-stars" season. The thought of Santino and La Pepper in the same room is terrifying.

A City of Justice, A City of Love

Whew. I'm back from an AMAZING trip to New York City. Waking up for work this morning has rendered me comatose and largely unable to string a sentence together, but here are a few highlights:

1) If you are at all a fan of the show, go see Strangers With Candy. It's no grand work of comedic art, but it's consistently funny with a few fall-over-laughing moments. Definitely better than any comedy a Wilson brother is throwing at you this summer.

2) Vintage store workers in SoHo are the nicest people ever. Well, not really. But compared to the affectations of bitchiness that most vintagey clerks give off, it was very delightful.

3) Wow for art. Those museums are incredible.

4) The weather? She is HOT. So very hot. And I'm not feeling much relief back in Michigan either.

5) Mmm, cannoli.

6) Sushi restaurants are still good even when only ordering drinks and no sushi.

7) Mmm, bellinis.

8) Seriously, I leave my computer and internets for four days and come back only to find I missed the awesomest Mel G. act of atrocity EVER.

There's lots of other good times to mention, but I think part of me just melted, so I should attend to that.

My List Of Project Runway Contestants In Order Of Their Likelihood of Getting Eliminated Next Week Due To Cheating

1. Keith
2. Vincent
3. Jeffrey
4. Angela
5. Kayne
6. Bradley
7. Bonnie
8. Laura
9. Alison
10. Michael

11. Uli

12. Robert

I will be very surprised if anyone below number 4 ends up being the culprit. I guess we'll see.

The Devil Drinks Diet Coke and Plans Parties Now, Evidently

Having had a decently enjoyable time seeing The Devil Wears Prada, I decided to embark into the seamy world of chick-lit. Since the library was fresh out of Devil copies, I opted for Lauren Weisberger's recent sophomore release Everyone Worth Knowing, deciding that it would be fun and fluffy and perfect during the rare spots of downtime that occur in my high-pressure, overachieving, always-on-the-go life.

Everyone bears a lot of similarities to the movie version of Devil, with a young twentysomething post-grad in Manhattan dealing with a conflict between personal, kind of unfulfilling success and snarky coworkers versus friends and integrity. Now just substitute "trendy fashion mag" with "trendy PR firm". Our protagonist is Bette, a imperfect but likeable and relatable single banker who quits her job only to land, with the help of her gay socialite uncle, at the aforementioned trendy PR firm. She spends her days planning parties and contacting celebs and promoters and her nights doing business at Bungalow 8 and the like with her hot but mostly drug-addled and morally contemptible coworkers. Bette rapidly finds herself in the NYC gossip columns due to her persistent, but nonsexual, relations with British it-boy Philip Weston. Throw in the requisite disappointment from friends and family, plus a dashing love interest, and you've got a story.

I definitely got what I wanted, namely an entertaining ride full of interesting characters and unrealistic plot twists. Weisberger has received a large amount of criticism, for this book in particular, but I'm convinced that she can write a snappy and compelling story that, yes, ties up neatly at the end to an absurd level, but is still well worth the ride. The whole chicklit critical backlash seems kind of unfortunate, really, and I hope that some of the stigma associated with reading chick-lit has, at least, partially transferred to other sorts of books.

I'd recommend it though, and as cliched it sounds, it really is great for reading in an air conditioned coffee shop on a sunny summer day with some iced caffeine and a lemon bar or five. I don't really feel like I gained any insight into the PR world outside of what I could glean from a Samantha-centric episode of SATC, but I had a good time and I'm even more psyched now to live in NYC. Ah, some day.

FopOn

Kudos bars to Brian for sending me this well-researched review from Slate on the HeadOn ads. There is also a video of the ad in all its full-length, mind-assaulting glory.

Call me a lemming, but I am fully on this HeadOn bandwagon. The ad is just a beautiful thing. It's like what I always imagined commercials to be like in some sort of dystopian, Fahrenheit 451-ian, not-too-distant future. HeadOn is essentially opening the doors for other cold, repetitive ad campaigns to strip humanity of its rational thought. The way I see it, we're really not that far off from moving sidewalks and personal jetpacks and soma vacations.

Of course, despite my curiosity toward HeadOn, I have absolutely no interest in rubbing an herbal Push Pop on my forehead, directly or not. And five-plus dollars seems like an awful lot when you can just get some Excedrin for less and call it a day. If there is a way for the HeadOn people to brainwash me to the point where slathering up my forehead (directly) seems like a good idea, then they'd really be set. Perhaps a money-back guarantee that it'll make me as vacantly complacent as the model in the commercial. Until then, I'm holding onto my five dollars and my achy, unmoistened forehead.

The Freshmaker: Accessories, Adorabale Amys, and Animal Rights Activism

Fresh: Summer ascots
Fresh Last Week: Grecian sandals
Stale: Leopard-print sunglasses

Fresh: Amy Sedaris
FLW: Amy Poehler
Stale: Amy Adams

Fresh: Aiding animals in Lebanon
FLW: Committing to faux fur
Stale: Eschewing veal

We TAR The World

Evidently, the casting directors over at The Amazing Race heard my complaints about the lily-whiteness of the casts for the past couple of seasons, ones that often featured two to four people of color out of about twenty-two total racers. IGN has pictures and stats on the new TAR10 teams who look comparatively pretty diverse.

It seems that we have at least four teams that are ethnically non-white, plus a disabled racer, a pair of gays, and a freaking lesbian. Yeah that's right. A lesbian. Fortunately for the other racers, there's just one and she's on a team with her dad. She looks pretty femme, too, not that there's anything wrong with that of course. They clearly know that a team of two lesbians would finish the whole race in about a week, tops. Let's hope her and the gays represent. We got slammed last season in the first leg. And who was before that? Lynn and Alex? Bleeck. It seems like so long since we've had good gays. It makes one long for the halcyon days of Oswald, Danny, Ken, Andrew, and hell, even the Guidos. (But never Aaron and Arianne. NEVER.)

Save for the male models and the pageant winners, it looks like we have a suspiciously normal looking group of racers. My hopes are high. Don't disappoint me, Bruckheimer.

The Amazing Race 10 is sans airdate at the moment, but it will be on a new night and time: Sundays at 8 PM starting in the fall.

World Series of Fop Culture

This past Saturday while enduring the worst. Hangover. Ever. I happened across VH1's World Series of Pop Culture. I've been sort of meaning to watch it since its inception, but truthfully the format looked boring and almost reminiscent of an adult spelling bee. So, unsurprisingly, I was hooked after five minutes, rooting for certain teams and guessing along with the contestants.

The competition is a tournament format comprised of teams of three. Two teams enter each round, one gets to move on to the next round. The objective is to eliminate the other team's members by doing better than them in a one-on-one round of six open-ended questions. The team that does best out of five rounds and eliminates all of the opposition wins. The greatness of the show is really in its simplicity.

So how did I fare? Eh. Not as well as I'd hope. I was maybe getting 70% right at best, around 50% right at worst. Some of the categories I was easily able to run with (After Reality: Questions Pertaining to Reality Celebs After-show Career Moves), some I knew one or none of the six answers (Sports Movies), and some I thought I would rock but ended up suuucking (Game Shows?!? That should have been my best category. I honestly would have sworn on the lives of my nonexistent children that the final round of American Gladiators was always called The Gauntlet. Even the contestant said that. Not so. It's called the freaking Eliminator. [And of course James knew that.] I'm not bitter.)

Aside from the trivia, it's just fun to see the teams engage in popcult fisticuffs. You get the feeling that the cooler teams go out after the show and talk about their favorite episodes of The Facts of Life over a few pitchers. The coolest team by far is Almost Perfect Strangers. They're so cute! And they seem to know their stuff. Hopefully they'll go far.

If there are auditions going on at any point in the near future, I'm so there.

Einundzwanzig

ONEMONTH.ONEMONTH.ONEMONTH.

One.


More.


Month.


YES.




Any suggestions for the first legal boisson alcoolique?

Project RunYAY

The premiere is less than ten hours away. I caved and watched the casting special last night and I. Am. PSYCHED.

And a premature boo on you, Off-the-grid Ohio Angela.

Fop Rave: Sia

I am utterly in love with Sia's music video for the song "Sunday". It's hilarious and heartbreaking and completely suspended in this crazy dreamworld. I've loved her as Zero 7's go-to chanteuse, and she seems to be getting a lot of play since she was featured on Six Feet Under. Her solo stuff sounds amazing too--definitely on my to-purchase list along with the new, and evidently rather upbeat, Zero 7 album.

Watch the video. Funniest/saddest part is around 00:40 when the guy unexpectedly slaps her. I can't help but make a "biff!"sound every time I see it. The impromptu waxing looks pretty ouch, too.

Sia's "Sunday" via YouTube.

Emmys Eh-dendum

You know, I was thinking about how I feel so outside the realm of popular television. There are so many trendy shows that I have absolutely no interest in watching no matter how popular they are in my age cohort. Grey's Anatomy, House, Prison Break, The Sopranos, 24, The West Wing, the list goes on and on and on.

My working theory is that there is a combination of my inherent disinterest in the shows and the non-presence of such programs in my friends' television repertoires. And who am I mostly friends with? Queers and queer-friendly hets. Gay people don't watch these shows. At least the people I'm familiar with don't. The programs of my people are reality shows like Project Runway and America's Next Top Model.

[Aside story: At the club this past Friday, I was pulled over by some Random Gay who was trying to settle some Top Model related dispute with his friends. He said, "Excuse me, do you by any chance watch America's Next Top Model?" I didn't even give a verbal response, instead choosing to give him a downward look of "Girl, please." To his credit, he apologized, saying "Oh I'm sorry. Of course." See? One should just assume that a fellow gay is familiar with such things.]

Sure, we also have our Desperate Housewives, Six Feet Under, Sex and the City, and popular shows that have that wink-wink of gay interest. I don't know, maybe I'm totally off and I'm just trying to justify my pickiness when it comes to teevee, but it seems at least partially true. When I read gay blogs like Queerty, there are no interviews or stories related to Prison Break, but I can be damn sure to get the latest in all things Tim Gunn. I like having my own television niche, albeit a stereotypically dandified one, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The Eh-mmys: An Unfocused Rant

The 2006 Emmy Awards...

...oh who cares?

Serial. I don't really have a lot of investment in the awards, being the only person I know who was born between the years of 1981 and 1989 who has never seen an episode of Grey's Anatomy. Ditto 24, Entourage, and House. And are we really still handing nominations out to Will & Grace and Malcolm in the Middle? I don't even know anyone who still watches those shows. Why not show some more Arrested Development love? I am, however, happy about the Desperate Houswives snubbaroo and the inclusion of Kathy Griffin the reality show category. (And the subsequent exclusion of the sinking ship known as The Apprentice.) The tagline of the whole Emmy broadcast should just be, "Hey, at least it's not the Grammys!"

More important: (Emmy nominated) Project Runway starts on Wednesday. Wee!

You Can't Spell "Bum Wine" Without "Numb"

I hate when you have an awkward run-in with someone akin to something you would see in an indie movie or a multi-camera sitcom. That's how I felt the other day. Sitting in one of my favorite cafés, a (presumably) homeless man came and sat at my table, and you know, I don't even like it when a not-totally-distant acquaintance does that. So he starts talking to me and I feel the pangs of lower-middle-class collegiate guilt when I don't have anything more than $0.23 to give him. He mumbles a lot, and there is a lot of silence and staring at each other. Finally when I make a motion to leave he breaks the silence, saying something about my mom and me being a punk. Then he slurs that "[he's] never hurt anyone before" and reaches inside his coat pocket. My heart rate goes up thricefold at this point, not knowing what sharpened or possibly blunt objet trouvé he plans to beat my punky self with. I see a glimmer of light, and he pulls out...



Oh, Mad Dog. I wish this was the first time I was afraid of you. And to the guy's (non?)credit, he actually was in posession of the green colored variety of Mad Dog, whose actual flavor escapes me. (Kiwi? Wasabi?) The green colored MD is by far the worst tasting. The best would have to be Blue, which even has the "Bling Bling" design on the front of the bottle for added class.

Mad Dog. I was introduced to MD last summer after previously sticking to the high road of bum wines known as Boone's Farm. The appeal of MD to me was in its doubled amount of alcohol and myriad of colors. The downside comes when one actually drinks the stuff. Whew. Yeech. But I could stomach the stuff for a good blitzing, especially when it involves putting on plastic jewelry or yelling expletives at Stacy London while having a What Not To Wear pre-party.

As of late, however, MD has been difficult to enjoy. One memorable experience came late last semester when I thought it would be fun to enjoy my Thursday night solitude by watching Food Network and sipping a styrofoam cup of red-flavored MD. Well, considering I only had eight-ounce cups, refills happened often. And then the drunk Facebooking started. And then I think I managed to roll under my futon. And then it was 9:45 A.M. and I was dry-heaving while washing my face and prepping for a fun, sober day of classes.

A few weeks ago I gave it another shot, foolishly picking up the green flavor. I was able to drink to, oh, where the neck of the bottle stops and traded it in for a vodka-and-Squirt.

The point of all this is...I don't know. I would like to see Mad Dog take a leap forward in our cultural zeitgeist. For all of the tears and joy and tears of joy it has brought me, I think more people should be aware of its magic. Thank you, Mad Dog 20/20. It's been a bumpy road, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

(But I would trade you for another vodka-and-Squirt.)

Submitted For Your Approval

Typically when I'm flipping through teevee channels on a Sunday afternoon I don't expect any sort of exciting programs to grab my attention. However, I did get a little jolt of happiness this weekend when I noticed something in black-and-white being broadcast on Sci-Fi Network. Because that can only mean one thing, folks: The Twilight Zone. And not only that, but because of the 4th of July holiday it means it's time for the semi-annual TZ marathon. (The other being at New Year's. Seriously, I don' t remember a New Year's when I didn't pre-party by watching TZ until like 9:00 PM.)

ANYway, I get excited by this semi-annually because I? Loves me some Twilight Zone. I could watch them over and over again, and that includes the replayed-to-death episodes like Talking Tina and the one with Endora fighting off the little astronauts. And of course there's the best episode ever, namely the one with evil little psychic Will Robinson wishing his family into the cornfield. SO trippy. ("That was a good thing you did, wasn't it now.") And I totally have a dorky crush on Rod Serling, his Bert-inspiring unibrow notwithstanding.

Sure like half of the episodes are crap. I have a hard time watching a lot of the historical ones, especially if the Civil War is involved. Or any of the too preachy ones, or the ones that are too child-centric. And sometimes I wonder how they even dragged out the episode for a mere twenty-two minutes. "Stopover in a Quiet Town" comes to mind as combining don't-drink-and-drive preachiness with a concept that stretches for all of six minutes. ("Gee, I bet it's a dollhouse. Oh look, I'm right.")

But most of the time The Twilight Zone holds up, even after forty or fifty years. Yeah they're predictable most of the time, but this was the first time a lot of these stories were told. Plus, you have to give the show credit for being successful and culturally relevant despite no consistent cast of actors. The show serves its purpose of creating entertaining adaptations of short stories and screenplays. It's meant to be brief, suspenseful, and memorable. Hey, and if The Simpsons parodies something for no less than five episodes, it has to be something worthwhile.

Addendum: Hyped Just Right

In an effort to seem slightly more satisfied with the state of the world, here's a brief list of everything in the world that is actually worthy of its hype.

Deservingly Hyped
tulips
aluminum foil
Augusten Burroughs
video games
chai (iced, skim)
good music acts heavily promoted on mtvU and on college radio (see: Gnarls, The Go! Team, Lady Sovereign)
falafel
Adult Swim
community service
solid colored tees
grapefruit juice
spelling words the traditional English way (e.g. neighbour, cheque)
working
Amy Sedaris
crunk cups
Hugh Jackman's hotttnezz as Wolverine
panda bears
the campiness of Showgirls
sunglasses (not at night)
drinking games
nachos (while drinking)

This Week in Hype

Self-explanatory. Thanks to James for the contributions, as well as for the delightfully crappy Before and Afters.

Underhyped
American Apparel tees
tonic water
Canada
pears
Lifetime Original Movies
bizarre short stories
thinking of Before and Afters that don't really work (see: "Merkin Mindy")
wizards, geniuses
star wipes
pre-partying with Sparks Plus
Lily Tomlin
the hook of that new AFI song (I know. The song sucks. The band sucks. Sucky suck. But it's been in my head incessantly.)
Catherine O'Hara
the occasional cigarette
penny-farthings

Overhyped
sudoku
William Hurt
yogurt (but not the word yoghurt)
scarves in summer
music described as "power pop"
Michael Kors's snarkiness
punctuation! in band names
masculine things
those Matthew Barney films
martinis
taking up causes for "the children"
Anderson Cooper (Yeah, I said it.)
pseudo-ironic appreciation of Journey
hats

Grover, Brother

For the past week or so I've kind of been testing out a theory I've had for a long time. Well, I guess it's not exactly a theory per se. It's just something I've always assumed without even giving it much thought. And recently when the subject came up I was shocked that others disagreed with me since it has always made so much sense. So here it is:




Grover from Sesame Street is black.

Don't let the azure furriness deceive you, if you were to transplant the Muppets into the real world complete with corresponding ethnicities, Grover would no doubt in my mind be African-American. And I completely admit that I have no idea why this is true. I have been and will always be the whitest person to roam God's good Earth, but I have never thought of Grover as not being black. So imagine my surprise when my (typically) rational coworkers vehemently disagreed with me, calling Grover everything from "white" to "Mexican" to "Armenian". No, no, and no. As one of my few agreeing peers stated (and I paraphrase): "Grover being black is like Bert and Ernie being gay. It's not acknowledged, but you still accept it as true."

I suppose the overarching question here is, am I really crazy? Was there something wrong with my four-year-old brain that would make me transplant human ethnicities onto characters with seemingly nonexistent social identities? Or did Frank Oz have some sort of covert Muppet-racializing agenda? Is there really a monster at the end of the book? We may never know the answers, but I think we're heading in the right direction.

Reason #926 Why I Need To Put Down The Book Of Crossword Puzzles

I recently used the word ersatz in casual conversation. Shut up, me.

For reals, this has replaced serious reading in my life. Bright side: it's still not as shameful as Sudoku.

A Case of Bad Nostalgia

When I was younger, there were certain things in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s cultural milieu that were kind of awesome, like Tang and McRibs. And yet sometimes even the awesomest of things don’t really hold up over time, much like Tang and McRibs.

Recently, thanks to digital cable, I’ve discovered that the old Nickelodeon game show Finders Keepers can be filed under such a category. I seriously remember this game show being the shit. Contestants got to tear apart a huge fake house searching for wacky items while wacky things happened usually involving ping pong balls. After a few recent viewings, it turns out Finders Keepers is actually one of the suckiest game shows ever produced.

Okay, so the first round is pretty much a glorified round of Highlights hidden pictures but with Colorforms, which is about as interesting as your average issue of Highlights. And then when the kids get to search the house it’s just…painful. There is absolutely nothing interesting about watching clueless people search for shit. Most of the entertainment that can be obtained from the show is from to the host’s arrant contempt for children. Well that and the typical displays of kid stupidity. It’s all just kind of disappointing. And you know a show is bad when it makes Nick Arcade, a game show that is completely reliant on the viewer’s desire to watch other people play video games, look like a well-crafted and gripping competition.

Hakuna Matata

I have recently discovered the answer to the age-old question: is it possible to have a compelling reality show with no human characters? Yes, it turns out, and I have been shown the way by Animal Planet's Meerkat Manor.

Narrated by Sean "Peter Jackson be damned, he'll always be Rudy to me" Astin, the show is an ongoing documentary of the Whiskers, a family of wild meerkats watched incessantly by self-activating cameras. All of your typical characters are there: the overbearing mother, the passively protective father, the rebellious teenage daughter, and a gaggle of cute little ones. I went in to MM reasonably skeptical and unwilling, but then you just get sucked in by the cuteness. And there are actually plots and subplots! The courageous son Shakespeare was bitten by an adder and has been hanging in death's balance for a few suspenseful episodes now. Daughter Tosca gets knocked up against her mother's will. A rival family infringes on the Whiskers' territory. Those Lost writers could learn a thing or two from the meerkats about suspense and plot advancement.

The show airs on Animal Planet Fridays at 8, making it the perfect alternative to that What Not To Wear episode you've already seen eighty-three times.

Every Lush Has His Day

OMG.

Two months until the 21st birthday. The blessed day draws nigh. The underage clouds will soon part and give way to the glorious liquid enlightenment. I will imbibe the sweet nectar that has been denied to me by my cruel government oppressors. I will cavort on that day and all others in serenely legal inebriation.

Get excited. And get me a drink while you're up.

The Freshmaker: Armed Forces, Adhesives, and A-List Crotch Fruit

Fresh: Navy
Fresh Last Week: Air Force
Stale: Army

Fresh: Surgical tape

FLW: Gaffers tape

Stale: Scotch tape

Fresh: Shiloh Jolie-Pitt
FLW: Suri Holmes-Cruise
Stale: What's-his-face-doesn't-even-stand-a-chance Weisz-Aronofsky

Everyone's A Little Bit Racist

Oh, Crash.

Just when I thought you were done being everything from a popcult buzzword to a topic of contention in just about all my classes this past semester, here you go resurfacing from your deserved semi-obscurity to adulterate my life once again. Part of the program I work with involves showing The Best Picture Of The Year in order to stimulate dialogue and yada yada. I get it. It's a good film for that sort of thing.

I just feel so...so conflicted about the whole thing. I saw The Best Picture Of The Year last summer with Kaite and liked it and cried appropriately and all that. Then I joined the backlash, and then the exacerbated backlash following its win for Best Picture Of The Year. And now that I have to watch it (though thankfully not the whole thing) repeatedly this summer, I just don't know how to feel.

It's a good movie, and it's plenty entertaining. It raises issues people may not think about all the time. And I even find myself tearing up watching short segments of the movie. But then there's all of the uber-drama and the universalizing of racism and the subsequent downplaying of white racism against people of color and bling blah blee. I mean, I guess I don't hate The Best Picture Of The Year as much as I did a few months ago, and certainly not as much as Annie Proulx, and I feel guilty for not hating so much. Is there a support group for people who can't make up their minds about The Best Picture Of The Year and feel an obligation to have a firm negative stance on the film?

I don't know. I'll just blame Loretta Devine because I will watch anything that she's in. Plus, she was the only actress who more-than-made-up for Michael Rapaport's presence on Boston Public.

Unicorns

Oh. Emgee. When will Threadless stop being awesome?

For cereal, the birthday's only two-ish months away. Maybe I'll impose a Threadless swag-or-alcohol-only rule on gifts.

Happy Playlist

Here is my can't-fail, happy mood, sunny mid-day June playlist. Give it a try before you judge it as too typical. (As I'm sure you've already scrolled down and thought, "Bloc Party? Really, Mike? Really?"). But this stuff gets me happy and dancing in the middle of the day and realizing that life is fun, especially when the sun is out. Yay, happy.

"Golden", Jill Scott
"Happy", Fischerspooner
"Something Good", Utah Saints
"Feel Good Hit of the Fall", !!!
"Bottle Rocket", The Go! Team
"Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom", Vengaboys
"The Greatest Hit", Annie
"Banquet", Bloc Party
"Ladyflash", The Go! Team
"Ticket to the Tropics", Cristina
"Easy", Morningwood
"Three or Four", The New Pornographers
"Cloud", Fischerspooner
"Chess King", Freezepop
"In My Arms", Mylo
"Vending Machine," Hyperbubble
"You Gotta Know", Fannypack

Last Loser Standing

Theo? Whaaa?

Is he funny or something? I don't get it.

Candy Review: Oh Henry!

This summer I have the fortune to live only mere paces away from a frequently-stocked vending machine, meaning that I can delight in candy confections all I want at all times of the day and night. My eye is always drawn to the bright yellow wrapper of the Oh Henry! bar but I never get it because...well because who ever really wants an Oh Henry! bar? I've never had one, but yesterday my curiosity got the better of me.

Okay. First offense: it's separated into two stout, rectangular bars. And truthfully, if you ain't Mounds, you can't pull that shit off. It's chocolate coated nougat and caramel, but the nougat is so thick that I had to chew it rather forcefully for more time than I would have cared. Also, it's just not that tasty. James referred to it as an "old people candy bar" and it totally is. Because it's totally not good. The chocolate and nougat taste cheap. But points for the annoyingly endearing name and wrapper.

Overall grade: C- (I would rank it slightly lower than a Bun)

Things that Need to Shut Up, Culturally Speaking

Brandon Davis
Anyone or thing associated with American Idol. Even Mandisa.
Panic! at the Disco
Dead Mischa Barton
Any television show I don't watch that is loved by people my age
People who don't buy me this shirt
Penny-farthing haters
Brandon Davis's greasy face

Finale Night

I'm calling it right now: Danielle wins. Things will go according to past seasons, meaning that Jade will get the bitchy-girl third place slot. (Previous examples include Season 3 Amanda, Season 4 Keenyah, Season 5 Bre, and yes, I refuse to call the seasons "cycles" like Tyra wants me to because that? Is stupid.) Joanie won't win because she's too old.

I'm rooting for Danielle because girl is cute and funny and seems halfway normal, but I'd be happy for Joanie, too.

As far as The Amazing Race, of course I'd like to see Ray and Yoyo take it home, but it'll probably be the hippies or fratty-fratty-boom-ballaties.

So just to recap, the glass is half-full for ANTM and half-empty for TAR. We'll see if I'm right.

Three Reasons Why I Loathe Jeopardy!: Tournament of Champions

1). This probably goes without saying, but the questions are hard. And not only are they hard, but the contestants know the answers. Which makes me feel stupid. And I don't like that.

2) The contestants are downright spazzy. They're awkward. They always botch up the "get to know you" segment with unfunny stories and stilted deliveries. They talk over Alex when he's being "funny". Not that I'm for the placing of less intelligent contestants on the show, but come on, a little charisma never hurt anything.

3) The contestants always go out of order. This is probably the number one problem I have. I have watched Jeopardy! just enough in my lifetime to instinctively prepare myself for an ascending level of difficulty in a given category. $200 in World Capitals? Probably going to be Paris. $600? I'm going with Warsaw or Beirut. $1000? I probably don't know it because the answer has something to do with Moldova or the Seychelles. But the contestants in the Tournament of Champions are good at psyching each other out (and the audience) by going all over the place, usually in search of the Daily Double. My mind just cannot handle it. If I were on the show, I would be vaporized into a pile of ash complete with the plonk plonk sound of my eyeballs falling to the ground.

I will, however, not be complaining as long as I am not forced to sit through (a) Celebrity Jeopardy! or (b) any version of Jeopardy! featuring children, high school students, or college students.

By Hook or by Crook

Due to a recent obsession with penny-farthings (...don't ask), James and I recently stumbled upon the late, great pre-Lynchian-level-of-obscurity gem known as The Prisoner. How have I not encountered this show before? For cereal guys, I totally hate when you come across something cool and think you're all cool but you're not because everyone and their monkey is already all about it. (Personal examples for me: Metric, pad thai) Unfortunately, the box set is $120, which, ouch.

I just didn't realize how many popcult references there are to The Prisoner, including everything from The Simpsons to freaking ReBoot. And I love old British weird things. Especially when they involve sci-fi inspired clothing and giant weather balloons and that sound effect that's like drumroooollll...boop! when something quirky happens that involves bad special effects. Ah, so good.

But yeah, if someone can supply the DVDs, I'm sure I can supply the rules to some sort of inebriation-based-game because it looks like it'll be very necessary to appreciate the show.

Oh Good Lord, it's a Kids Show

All of my Wonder Showzen viewing has got me thinking about my favorite holiday: Halloween. Basically I'm thinking there could be some sweet Halloween costumes based on WS characters. And really, they wouldn't be that difficult to throw together. And based on the past three years, I've learned that group costumes are the best and get the funniest reactions out of people. AND the show is fringe-y enough to get a good laugh from those in the know. Here's what I have so far idea-wise. I'm saying it's either this or Devo.

Chauncey
yellow furriness
smallish top hat
bow around neck

Beat Kid(s)
trenchcoat
microphone
squirt gun filled with blood

Wordsworth
red clothes
blue scarf
glasses
exposed brain

Sthugar
pink wig
single fang
lisp

A.P. Gibraltar
lots of those googly eyes
microphone
suit

Princess Amy
pink foofy dress
pink headband
wand

Mr. Story
fake chest hair
top hat
moustache
tattoo spelling "READER"

D.O.G. O.B.G.Y.N.
helmet
goggles
baby doll (Black)
various dog accoutrements

Finger Force Girl
midriff-exposing shirt
tight pants
finger on a stick

Mother/Father Nature
beard
lipstick
purple dress
box of lady parts

Happy Birthday, Dear "Reality"

I don't know how many people realize it, but it's almost the birthday of a whole genre of entertainment as we know it.

It's true, what has become notoriously known as reality television will be six years old--first grade already!--this summer. I can't decide if that seems like a long time or not. Probably not. But yes, it was the summer of 2000 when we first viewed the fruition of some guy with an accent who did shows for The Discovery Channel and his crazy idea to adapt a Swedish game show for the U.S. audience. Never mind that one of the original Swedish contestants actually committed suicide because of the show, this is going to be revolutionary! And what do you know? It kind of was.

Of course I'm talking about Survivor. That first summer when we cried with Jenna because she couldn't see her kids, became enamored with cute Colleen, laughed at Sue and her crazy Wisconsin accent, thought that creepy Greg guy was kind of hot (Or maybe that was just me...), groaned over dumb doctor Sean, and ultimately approved of snake Richard's victory over rat Kelly. It was great television. And think back to when you first heard the concept of the show. "People vote each other off? The island? Guh?" It's cliched to say, but it was an event in television history.

That first summer also brought us the first season of Big Brother, so really the downward slide was already in motion just one month later.

I look back now and I'm realizing that I probably say I love reality television more than I actually do. Let's take a look at my favorite reality shows of all time. We've got Survivor, which I have personally found unwatchable since the Africa season. The Amazing Race came out of nowhere with its sheer awesomeness, but then came the victory of Flo, then the dumbing down of the clues, then the Yield, then Rob and Amber being cast, then that godawful family season, then ridiculous casting decisions what with the abusive couples. So, not so much with the TAR love any more. The Mole was probably one of the smartest, most entertaining shows on television, but no one else watched it due to ABC's fucking around with its timeslot, and then there were those celebrity editions, so it met a rightful death. The Apprentice had a good first run, but it all went to hell the next season and now it looks like it might get cancelled before the sixth is aired. And there's always The Real World, which...'nuff said.

SO that leaves us with what? America's Next Top Model is still going strong in its sixth season. And Project Runway has definitely slid into the number one spot in terms of quality. But that's about it. Now we're graced by the presence of such new gems as Unan1mous, Top Chef, The Simple Life, Laguna Beach, 8th & Ocean, Hell's Kitchen, Beauty and the Geek, Dancing with the Stars, Skating with Celebrities, Wife Swap, Trading Spouses, The Swan, The Restaurant, Blow Out,Newlyweds, For Love or Money, Rock Star ...and on and on and you get it. You get it. I acknowledge that we still had crappy shows even five years ago, mostly thanks to FOX, but at least the good ones were still good. Instead of rehashing interchangeable seasons of crap like The Bachelor and Big Brother, we need something new and something not so affected by previous shows. We need new ideas out there, not hackneyed "twists" to already dying shows. And not some rote, high-concept bullshit networks make to try and create a buzz like Unan1mous. We all get that reality TV is about as postmodern as you can get. We can't rely on that alone any more.

The question is, where can we go from here? I don't know if reality TV is going to once again reach levels of cultural change as much as it did with Survivor and The Real World, but something better happen. Because I refuse a life of watching Deal or No Deal, damn it.

I Am So Not Jazzed

The internets are down in my room until (hopefully) Monday. Blarggle.

Whither Art Thou Mullet, Mandel?

Ah, the full-time life. Today was my first day in my summer of my first forty-hour work week. I almost feel like an adult. Almost.

So this evening after a rousing run to Arby's (Marry me, Five for $5.95 deal), I decided to take part in a typical working American evening of watching 2.5 hours of television, which is granted still lower than the normal average of hours per night, I believe.

I started off with longtime favorite Jeopardy! where I alternatingly felt slightly smart (Hey! I knew a question about the Azores!) and very stupid (Shit, I don't know Maugham. Or Wolfe. Or Fitzgerald. Or ANYTHING.) I am way, way out of practice and might just have to start watching the show regularly to slowly claw my way back up. Or at least stop the yay-for-killing-brain-cells thing.

Then I caught a rerun of a recent episode of Deal or No Deal on CNBC. I watched mostly out of curiosity, what with the mixed and mostly negative press the show's been getting. For the most part I have to say I was kind of entertained with a few periods of boredom. Perhaps, boredertained? Maybe it's just me coming from a relatively working class background, but if I was offered anything over $5000 by "the banker", I would SO TAKE THAT SHIT. These people don't seem to understand odds very well, especially the fact that they have a 1 in 26 chance of taking the $1 million. I'm sure it's all very exciting being on live television with an audience and Mandel's gleaming head and distracting soul patch, but come on people. Dumb. They are, however, likeable enough to keep me watching, and I have to say that for a completely random game that requires zero skill, they put out a pretty good show.

Of course, my biggest problem is the gross treatment of the 26 models. I can put up with Vanna and even Barker's Beauties, but this is just ridiculous. Especially when a contestant's grandfather asks her to "pick a pretty one" for him. Eeeww. As much as I want to see a likeable irony in their presence, it still leaves a blech taste in my mouth. Ditch the objectification and speed up the pace of the game and you might have something I would watch semi-regularly.

Oh yeah. After that I watched Sex and the City for an hour. But Carrie didn't even wear anything that heinous in either ep, so there's really nothing worth mentioning.

Tomorrow: more pseudo-adulthood. But there's something about being an adult that really makes me...want some candy. Ooh! And a slushy!

Stick It? Fuck it.

Woo. I can check off my second movie (the first being Scary Movie 4) from my Spring/Summer Movie Shame-fest now that I have seen Stick It.

My best piece of advice: don't go in expecting all the campy fun of Bring It On because you will be disappointed. Stick It is not a good film, really in any sense, and it's disappointingly not funny a lot of the time. The film seems confused as to who the antagonist is (We're told to hate the bitchy gymnast girl, then the other bitchy gymnast girl, then the judges? Wuh?) and the story is too all-over-the-place to make us feel any sympathy for the main character.

Though the opening credits are quite fun and flashy, and the soundtrack offers some good music including two songs from one of my longtime favorite acts Fannypack. Stick It also has some cool effects going on that, coupled with the music, make for some entertaining segments. The bitchy banter among the gymnasts though is so, so underused, so when it does happen it's pretty damn funny. We're instead forced to focus on grizzled Jeff Bridges doing the whole cliched hard-boiled coach thing. Blech.

Also, and maybe this detracted from the experience a tad, I was one of about four men in a fairly packed theater. And about half of the crowd was under 14 or so. I think I would have stuck out less at Akeelah and the Bee. Wearing a feather boa.

Summer Movie Round-up

Movies I wouldn't mind seeing, but I know none of my friends would come with me:
Silent Hill
Hard Candy

Movies I want to see that make me say I feel embarrassed for wanting to see, but not really:
Stick It
A Prairie Home Companion
X-Men: The Last Stand

Movies I want to see that make me feel genuinely embarrassed:
Akeelah and the Bee
The Devil Wears Prada

Movies with sensitive subject matter that I will never, ever see, but hey that doesn't even really mean much given that I saw The Passion of the Christ, and in the theater no less, but even that didn't stop us from doing Jesus impressions in the lobby:
United 93
World Trade Center

Movies that you couldn't pay me to see in the theater, on DVD, or otherwise:
Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
Miami Vice
The Da Vinci Code

Movies I would only want to see because they feature Paul Rudd and are titled after a great one-hit wonder of the late nineties:
I Could Never Be Your Woman

Confusing Coversation with Mom: Part #42383

Mike: Hey, you know I was offered an internship in D.C. for the summer.

Mom: Really?

Mike: Yeah but I had to turn it down since they gave me too short of notice. It sucks.

Mom: Who was it with?

Mike: The Human Rights Campaign. You know the stickers? The blue and yellow equal--

Mom: The Human League?

Mike: Uh, no. The Human Rights Camp--

Mom: Oh, the Human League?

Mike: No, Mom. That's a band. From the eighties.

Mom: You know, the Human Fund?

Mike: Human Fund?

Mom: From that episode of Seinfeld?

Mike: OH YEAH. When George makes a fake charity instead of giving real Christmas presents?

Mom: Yeah!

Mike: Haha. I love that one.

Mom: Yeah that's great.

Mike: But no. That's not where the internship was.

Mom: Oh.

At Your Leisure

Ladytron? SO good live. The show was at the Metro in Chicago, which was a fun and surprisingly intimate venue. The opening act consisted of two guys in oversized t-shirts and tight pants called The Presets who played some jaunty and danceable electroclash. Seemed to go on for a while, but good stuff.

Ladytron came out after what seemed like a long time. Totally hot though. Helen and Mira were both femmed out in black, low-cut, knee-length dresses and wee little black boots. Daniel is still looking hot, sleazestache and all. Ruben is always hot. The band started off with "High Rise" and then went on to play almost everything else on Witching Hour, with my surprise favorite being "The Last One Standing". They also played some of the best stuff from the two previous albums: "Seventeen", "Playgirl", "Discotraxx", "True Mathematics", "Evil", "Blue Jeans" and a few others. We were up in the balcony area with a good view and plenty of room to dance and act a fool, and Gina and I made sure to capitalize on that.

I give the show an A+, but I probably still would if they came out and only did interpretive dances to Rod Stewart songs. Actually, that would have been kind of awesome.

Here are some YouTube links to some of their music videos. I don't really understand them entirely, but they're fun to watch:

"Sugar"
"Destroy Everything You Touch"
"Seventeen"
"Playgirl"

Gently With a Chainsaw

Oh, God. Right now I'm drowning in this paper for my film class. I have to offer a queer reading of popular film. I chose Heathers for it's lezzie undertones but mostly because I just love the movie. If I'm going to be spending ten to twelve pages on a movie, I figured it might as well be one that I like.

My main argument? Veronica and the Heathers are lesbians, and Veronica's defection is essentially a defection from her true, queer identity. Heterosexuality, represented by her relationship with J.D., is actually the deviant act. And so on. And blahh.

Seriously, does anyone have any insights to offer? This sucks, big time.

Witching Hour

Wee! The Ladytron concert in Chicago is Friday night and I'm psyched. Favorite band + favorite city + favorite people = fun times. It's my first electroclash concert so I don't even really know what to expect. I'm so excited! I'm so...scared!*

*Clearly, I have been watching too much Saved By The Bell on Adult Swim.

Coca-Cola Yukk

One of the adorable tykes on Wonder Showzen responded to the question "What is heaven?" with "A new product!", and I have to say I usually agree.

But not this time. I'm looking at you Coca-Cola Blak.

I shilled out the $1.79 for you for no other reason other than that you are new and, for at least the time being, somewhat culturally relevant. Plus I like caffeine and so-called energy drinks and will eventually just make my life easier and start wheeling around a Diet Red Bull IV with me. You started out spicy and interesting, like a better tasting Vanilla Coke infused with coffee, but then that aftertaste hits you and bleeearghhkkk. I was liking you and then all of a sudden I realized that finishing the teeny eight-ounce bottle would be a formidable challenge. And really, who cares when I could spend less money on a shot of espresso that doesn't taste like it was mixed with three-day-old Coke?

Moral of the story? Unlike the farmer and the cowman, the Coke and the coffee should not be friends.

Blah. White.

Television Without Pity is running a brief interview with Black. White. creator R.J. Cutler. It's nothing particularly revealing, but it's fun to see some of the thought that went into developing the show.

I like that he acknowledges the difficulty with the makeup, since I still think it looks fakey mcfake at least half of the time. Though I will admit that I did find myself saying, "Hey that's pretty convincing" more often as the show progressed. He kind of downplays the seemingly high level of producer intervention, which is something I think could have benefitted the show more in general--a more transparent breaking down of the fourth wall. But at least Cutler reveals what they said to the peripheral characters about the camera crew. That's been a nuisance of mine since the first ep. And I totally forgot he did that American High show that no one watched except me. And I think I only watched the first episode, come to think of it. Good show, though...maybe.

Edited to add: Did anyone else watch the BW finale tonight? Because, yaaawn. I feel bad for being so bored. There just wasn't much there. It was like, poetry reading, museum, hiking, blah blah journey not a destination blah talking blah something. Then eighty-seven hours later the families moved out. It would be interesting to see a follow-up or reunion type show. That would put better closure on the series.

Kids Say the Awesomest Things

I think I made one of the best decisions in my life this past weekend. And that decision was to purchase season one of MTV2's Wonder Showzen (né Kids Show) on DVD.

It's...wow. A beautiful thing. If you haven't seen it, go to YouTube and search for clips. You will not be disappointed. There are so many good segments. I particularly enjoy "Q & A", in which kids respond to simply worded questions. ("What is heaven?", "That's where drunk daddies drive to!") Also of note are the could-be-straight-from Sesame Street stock footage clips of factories with scathing cultural commentary by the kids. (At a TV dinner factory: "Chicken genocide! Chicken Darfur!"). The "Beat Kids" and Clarence sketches are also awkwardly hilarious.

MTV2 is currently airing the second season of Wonder Showzen, and I'm happy to report that all of the offensiveness and funny are still there. Watch it. Or God will rip your face off...and feed it to a goat.

The Freshmaker: Lit Trends, Lifestyle Outlooks and Lucky Charms

Fresh: Investigative pseudo-journalism
Fresh last week: Snarky Chicklit
Stale: Authorship hoaxes

Fresh: Superficiality for aestheticism's sake
Fresh last week: Superficiality for irony's sake
Stale: Superficiality for elitism's sake

Fresh: The purple horseshoes
Fresh last week: The green clovers
Stale: The red balloons

Battle of the Network Reality Timeslots

Recent rescheduling of The Amazing Race from it's Tuesday timeslot to Wednesdays at 8 pm is forcing reality show fans like myself (who don't watch the cultural schlock that is Crapmerican Crapdol) to choose between CBS's TAR and UPN's America's Next Top Model. I'm not a huge fan of rational choice approaches to life, but it might help to objectively weigh the pros and cons of each program.

The Amazing Race
Hosted by lovely and snarky Phil Keoghan (+5), who makes questionable wardrobe choices at times (-1)

All the fun of pretty locations and international travel (+2)

The top two teams this season, the frats and hippies, are the Tool Lords of Toolsylvania in the nation of Toolzbekistan. (-7)

Boring challenges (-2)

But, hey, no kids this time! (+2)

All three all-female teams being eliminated before the halfway mark (-3)

That motherfucking Travelocity gnome (-4) and the ridiculous product placement in general (-3)

Total: -11

America's Next Top Model
Hosted by crazy Tyra (+4), but also features grating "runway coach" Miss J. Alexander (-3).

Predictable eliminations, such as last week's riddance of the token no-personality personality girl (-6), but thankfully there's no no-chance-in-hell plus size model this season (+2)

This season's manipulative villain, a drag queen hag named Jade (+3)

Guest appearances by Janice (+4)

Seeing these girls' feelings of self-worth torn to shreds week after week (+6)

Tyra's "acting" (-2)

Nicole's "acting" every week in the "My Life as a Cover Girl" segments (+2 for unintended comedy)

Total: +10

Well, Amazing Race, unless half of your current cast chooses a Detour that involves driving off of a cliff ("This Detour option will cause death, but teams will complete the task quickly"), I guess I'll be seeing you during the Top Model commercials.

Novelty Pleasure o' the Week

Despite the apparent just-barely-controversy surrounding it, and also ignoring the general tiredness of the song, I have to say that Bubba Sparzxzxxs&8cx's video for "Ms. New Booty" has to be my favorite thing on television at the moment. (Not counting the ads for Slither which look freakin sweet.)

For me, infomercial parodies are always comic gold. Especially when the product information on the side states "Fixes that stuff up!!" Enjoy the video while its novelty lasts, because it's going to get really annoying in, oh, let's say a week tops. But at least the song and video are filling the post-"Humps" void because, Christ, can anyone stand that song any more?

Personal Me-sus

Normally I don't go for the whole personality type thing, especially since my psychology background almost requires it of me. I've taken the Meyers-Briggs before with disappointing, unmemorable results. But I took it recently and just got the results back, and I was actually somewhat pleased. I think I finally found a four-letter combination that describes me at least a little.

Here is a relatively poor but interesting description of my type. Here is another one relating to how I supposedly function in relationships which I think it more than a tad accurate. What what, conflict avoidance and a constant need for praise.

So is it all crap? Probably. (I'm really middle-of-the-road when it comes to intro/extroversion and judging/perceiving.) But it's fun, and this is the first time I've had fun with it. And at least it's better than that damn test where I'm a shepherd.

Black. Wha?

So it's become a weekly mini-tradition for me and my residents to watch FX's Black. White. and discuss everything from racism at an institutional level to omigod, this white woman is a raving lunatic. But I'm finding that I can't get over some logistics of the show.

Most significant: so I get that the families change races with makeup and go out into "real-life" situations (this is "reality" programming, après tout) where the people with whom they interact aren't clued in to the gimmick unless the family member outs her or himself. So, the big show-wrecking question for me is, what are they thinking the cameras are there for? I mean, I don't know how I would act in the situation, but if I saw someone with (a) suspiciously cakey skin, (b) a noticeable discomfort and (c) a bloody camera crew, I would be more than a little weirded out. What are these people thinking? There has to be some producer intervention, which kind of takes away from the show.

I suppose regardless of the logistics and the whole problematic nature of BW (Blackface much?), it's pretty entertaining, and it seems to get people talking. I'm more or less hooked and I'm curious as to where the show's going.

Random Movie Thoughts

Here is a collection of movies I've seen recently with some fairly haphazard thoughts.

Rent
Pretty much what I expected. It was fun since it has been an eternity since I last listened to the soundtrack or even really thought of the musical. Some of the songs were a little on the unbearable side, and Allison and I managed to hold an extended conversation at the beginning of the movie out of sheer disinterest. Sarah Silverman is grossly underused, too. But not that bad, really.

Pretty Persuasion
Started off really funny and then an hour later, not so much with the funny. Evan Rachel Wood does a great job though. And I guess...that's about it. Interesting assortment of characters but not really that memorable or compelling. Ron Livingston's always nice to see, though.

Night Watch
The beginning was so violent I almost called it quits right there but now I'm glad I stuck around. The subtitle trickery was really clever and the whole style of the movie was just wow. One of the plot points in particular falls with a big, anticlimactic thud, but other than that it was way fun. I'll definitely see the sequels.

Eraserhead
Exactly what you'd expect from David Lynch's first big filmmaking effort and more. Weird, creepy, startling and confounding. And that baby thing is just gross.

Storytelling
Not Solondz's best, I have to say. Happiness and Palindromes, for all of their bizarre characters and plot turns, are much more entertaining and present something more cohesive. The first story is much more affecting than the second and I wish more time was devoted to the former. Strangers With Candy fave Tammi Littlenut has a brief appearance in the first half, too, which was a pleasant surprise.

Fop Secret

I just don't know what to think of PostSecret. I mean, it's definitely entertaining. I would be lying if I told you I didn't check the updates every Monday morning at work. But it's just so...emo, for lack of a better word. No, come to think of it that's just the right word. The plug in the All-American Rejects video kind of helped that along, too. I mean I know they do good work for suicide prevention. The whole thing just kind of makes me roll my eyes sometimes, especially with all the media coverage of the site now.

So does it make me a superficial person to say I just like the funny ones? Or the funky artsy ones? Or the honest to God horribly immoral ones? (The card on stealing money from the non-profit org comes to mind.)

And don't get me wrong. I've entertained the thought of making my own card and sending it in. But...bleh. I can't imagine getting a rush of emotion from doing it. There would be no value at least on a cathartic level, but I do suppose it's helpful for some people. And I just can't shake this feeling of, hey, maybe we as a society should just start being more open with each other rather than anonymously glueing stuff to postcards. You know?

It Rocks, Evidently

I will be spending this weekend in sunny and beautiful Cleveland for a work-related conference. Most if not all of my past exposure to Ohio has consisted of driving the turnpike to PA, so I'm hoping this trip improves my opinion of the state as a whole. Cause really all I can go off of is flatness and agoraphobia-inducing rest stops.

The con is at Case Western Reserve which, as my research tells me, boasts such alumni as the Russo brothers who are the directors of Arrested Development, and presidential almost-candidate Dennis Kucinich. That's two points for you, Cleveland, but you'll have to show me what else you got.

John Waters: The Recent Stuff

Cry-Baby
The Plot: Set in the fifties, Johnny Depp is a high school rebel who sings a lot, gets put in jail, and then sings some more. And stuff.

From reading reviews on the internets, this seems to be the least liked of Waters's films. I thought it was kinda fun in a ridiculously PG-rated sort of way. It's a musical which gets a bleh from me right away, but Depp and the supporting characters did a good job. And the final scene provides just the right amount of Wha...what the hell? to keep it from going totally flat. Entertaining, but Waters really should have just done Hairspray and called it a day. Fortunately for us all he moved on to...

Serial Mom
The Plot: Kathleen Turner is a wife, homemaker, and mother of two who, while appearing Stepfordian in every way, has a secret, murderous side that becomes all the more suspicious when folks in the neighborhood keep turning up dead.

Oh God, definitely one of my favorites. I would argue that this is Waters's gayest movie, too. You can't get more queer than a crazy Kathleen Turner beating Patty Hearst to death with a phone for wearing white shoes after Labor Day. Turner just takes this movie and fucking runs with it, and it's great to watch. Not too cutesy, not too vile. Perfect, murderous, movie harmony.

Pecker
The plot: Edward Furlong comes from a working class family, takes some pictures, has an annoying girlfriend, becomes famous, and we all learn a lesson about life or something.

Blech. Worst of Waters, no question. Even at a brief eightyish minutes I was bored out of my mind and managed to check my email, Facebook and Myspace multiple times during the movie. There was no Waters edge at all. Nor was it particularly funny or risque. Just a predictable, poor and trashy versus rich and snobby comedy. Ricci was flat. Not a horrible movie altogether, but disappointing fare from a director who we know is capable of much more.

Cecil B. Demented
The plot: Underground terrorist/director Cecil B. Demented and his followers kidnap a shrill, obnoxious actress (who is not supposed to be anything like the real Melanie Griffith AT ALL) and force her to star in their latest film, which is more or less a reckless fuck-you to mainstream cinema.

Maybe it's because I watched this one right after Pecker but I thoroughly enjoyed myself. What a fun movie. Even the presence of Melanie Griffith didn't ruin much. (For the most part.) And Maggie Gyllenhaal is so cute as the Satanic makeup artist. The cast had a very "young, up and coming actors of six years ago" feel (Alicia Witt and Adrian Grenier, much?) but managed to do well anyway. Predictable but fun.

A Dirty Shame
The plot: After a head injury, Tracey Ullman becomes a nymphomaniac and together with her buxom daughter and a band of merry perverts, try to spread their message of sexual liberation throughout conservative Baltimore.

I refrained from watching this one since I saw it last year when it was out in theaters, and really that was enough. I remember being amused, especially during the Hokey Pokey scene, but Knoxville just wasn't that great and Tracey Ullman and Selma Blair (along with all of the assorted sexual deviants) had to carry what was left of the movie. Funny gags, and undoubtedly better than Pecker, but that's about it. Bad ending, too.

More Swag

Look at the stop sign stickers you can get off of Glarkware! The best one by far is the Vanilla Ice homage, but the Smiths shout-out is a close second. Would anyone be up for a night of petty vandalizing and, presumably, drinking? Watch out Ann Arbor, cause you're about to get FACED*.

*Okay, not really. But it's a fun idea anyway.

Threadless Swag

Omigod, I owe my life to Jai for giving me the early heads-up on the Threadless $10 sale.

Everyone should go there and order a sweet shirt and show your support for the site and the designers. But you're not allowed to get this or this or this, because those are the ones I just ordered. Although I absolutely love this illustrated shout out to the linguistically dorky among us.

Threadless is one of those things that is still underappreciated enough that you can go up to someone wearing a shirt and be all "Threadless?" and they're all "Shyeah." And then you feel all cool. I love moments like those.

The Freshmaker: Ragamuffins, Reality TV Gimmicks and Rather Inessential Kitchen Utensils

Fresh: Cameron Bright
Fresh last week: Spencer Breslin
Stale: Dakota Fanning

Fresh: Brain swapping
Fresh last week: Race swapping
Stale: Wife swapping

Fresh: Melon ballers
Fresh last week: Apple corers
Stale: Whisks

Bee Arr Bee

This is just a heads up that there probably won't be any posts for a little while (probably through this week) in hopefully what is a not-so-futile attempt to get my life back in order. Thanks.

Showy Chloe

So, I promise this will be the last Project Runway post. For a while. Maybe.

Our beloved Chloe Dao deservedly took the crown much to everyone's surprise. All of the collections had problems, but I certainly liked hers the best. It was risky, granted, but I think she had the high fashion feel that Daniel and Santino lacked. Plus, girl is cute! If I wore dresses, I would buy one of hers in a hot second.

I think her win is all the better since she undoubtedly had the best personality of the trio. Daniel just got so tiring by the end and Santino, sad story or not, is Santino.

Great job, Bravo on a compelling follow-up to the first season. Don't screw it up in Season 3!

Bad Fashion Wednesday

Like, OMG. This is like the craziest teevee night ever. Tonight is the premiere of America's Next Top Model and the finale of Project Runway. I can hardly contain myself! You might remember that they did the reverse of this programming last December with the crappy finale of ANTM (Boo, Nicole) and the premiere of PR. This is an eventful reality month with the decent start of The Amazing Race as well. It's a good thing I stopped watching The Apprentice after that season when Ivana took her skirt off. (Did anything else happen that season? Or in the two seasons since? No? Okay then.)

Going by the episode title of ANTM, it looks like the modellettes will be challenged to pose sans cheveux for their first shoot. That should be awesome to say the least.

The BooYay: Oscars Edition

Yay for Charlize for fugging it up to the fugstreme. For God sakes, someone had to do it. And someone besides you, Hillary Swank.

Boo for the totally unsurprising acting wins. More like Philip Seysnore Hoffman. Zing!

Boo on the montages for being even more inessential this year than in years previous. What was that one in the middle of the show even about? The best title I could come up with was, "Montage of, Like, Issues...In Movies".

Yay for Three 6 Mafia for taking Best Song. I mean, whoa! Black people rapping and winning awards for it! Crazy! This is such a big deal! Let's talk about it for the rest of the show because of it's sheer craziness!

Boo on me for being the only one in the free world who finds Clooney more smarmy than charmy. Stop it with the eyebrow waggling already.

Yay for Ryan Phillipe for cracking my shit up with the intensity during Reese's acceptance speech. Best Unintentional Comedic Performance by an Oscar Winner's Spouse.

Yay for Jon Stewart for giving it a noble try. I would say that he moved from a C to a B-minus, B through the course of the telecast.

Boo on Brokeback for not taking the Crash approach to Best Picture success. See, instead of two gay cowboys there should have been, say, thirty. And like, instead of being subtle, we could have had every scene about homophobia. So it's all, HOMO! PHOBIA! GAY! LOVE! And then all the characters will learn something about this crazy, mixed-up world. And...cars on fire! Yeah! Now that's a Best Picture!

And finally, yay again for Charlize for providing a multi-faceted, solid performance in North Coun...OH MY GOD THE BOW ATE HER FACE AND IS TAKING OVER AMERICA AAGGHHH!