Want to see Girls in a PG-13 nutshell? Check out last night’s sketch from Late Night With Seth Meyers in which Lena Dunham portrays her on-screen alter-ego Hannah Horvath working a pitch meeting in the writer’s room of the late night talk/sketch show. She essentially mocks the standard tropes of Girls, horrifying her fellow writers with her weird concepts of sexual humor and turning everything into a form of feminist victimization. Think Larry David in Curb Your Enthusiasm only not funny. Which is probably why the best line came from a fellow female writer who requested, ”Please do not group my pitch with yours.”
The award for most obnoxious line goes to: ”Aren’t you predominately Jewish male comedy writers supposed to be stuffing your gross faces with bagels constantly?”
While the award for most ignorant observation goes to: ”Seth lets a woman or person of color host a late night talk show for the first time ever, because that’s never happened and that’s f’d up!” Tell it to Joan Rivers or Arsenio Hall. Although this line proved the most instructive of how small Dunham’s bubble truly is.
I’d like to issue a sincere apology. It’s the thing to do these days — everyone’s sorry for something. For example, Benedict Cumberbatch apologized recently after he had the gall to advocate for minorities in show business. His great crime was using the unacceptably outdated term “colored actors” instead of the utterly unrelated and vastly dissimilar approved phrase “people of color.” For this unpardonable sin (formerly known in less enlightened cultures as a “slip of the tongue”), Cumberbatch was rightly commanded to abase himself at the stern and glorious altar of public opinion.
But Cumberbatch obviously isn’t the first — apologizing is so hot right now. It’s practically a spectator sport. Jonah Hill, Alec Baldwin, Christian Bale — they’re all buying into the craze. That many glamorous people can’t possibly all be wrong, so today I’d like to get in on the fun. I’d like to say that I’m really, really sorry.
But the thing is, not all apologies are created equal. You can’t just bat your eyes insincerely and put on your poutiest face. That is certainly not what being a celebrity is all about! No, to really apologize with the big dogs, you have to get down on your knees and beg for mercy. Luckily, The Atlantic is here to help: when Cumberbatch performed his act of penance, Atlantic staffers took the opportunity to enlighten us about how to really repent at the feet of the American press. So I’m going to use the Atlantic’s doctrine to make sure I get my own apology right. After all, Our Journalistic Overlords know best (peace be unto them).
For one thing, when I’m apologizing, I won’t dare suggest that the media goons howling for my blood over a transitory non-issue might be the tiniest bit hyper-sensitive. “Implying that anyone who took issue . . . was overly touchy” is just another way of trying to weasel out of taking responsibility for your filthy, reprehensible crime, explains The Atlantic. Saying “I’m sorry if you were offended” implies that the Left might not have every right to be outraged at your despicable bigotry. After all, it’s your fault if people are ripping you to shreds for using a term that is literally in the name of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. You’re the one who had the audacity to be white and say words.
And I definitely won’t “walk into the chagrinned-white-person trope of referencing [my] non-white ‘friends’” when I make my apology. I wouldn’t be caught dead trying to pretend that routinely being kind to people of other races in any way excuses me from the charge of virulent racism. What a laughable idea! Obviously loving your neighbor is nowhere near as important as using the precise terminology that our Great Thought Masters deemed intellectually sanitary and appropriate all of five minutes ago. As Cumberbatch himself said while undertaking his cleansing ritual of contrition, what matters most is the “need for correct usage of terminology that is accurate and inoffensive.” In other words, it’s no good actually being a decent human if you don’t let the Left tell you exactly what words to say at all times.
So when I make my apology, I’ll make sure not to say “I’m sorry” to any real live human beings whom I could actually have conceivably hurt. Instead I’ll be issuing my apology to a nameless, faceless collective known as “Anyone Whom I Offended.” That way I will forever remain at the mercy of an undefined mass of people whose imperious outrage gives them the right to judge my every thought, word, and deed at any moment. I will reach out into the beyond to address Anyone Whom I Offended through their divine oracles and representatives on earth: mainstream journalists and late-night talk show hosts. These exalted keepers of the sacred mysteries are the only ones fit to evaluate the worthiness of my repentance.
“Now Spencer,” you may well ask, “what are you sorry for?” I know — it’s difficult to imagine what it could possibly be. After all, I’m awesome. Could it be that, like Cumberbatch, I committed the grievous offense of saying an unapproved word? Or, like Billy Crystal, am I guilty of the thought-crime of holding a “socially engrained attitude” towards homosexuality “in the gut rather than the intellect”? After all, according to The Atlantic, thinking forbidden thoughts is “part of the same phenomenon that causes discrimination, suicide, youth homelessness, and murder.” So no matter how scrupulous I am, I probably thought something bad one time, and that’s the same as killing someone. I’d like to apologize. Here goes.
To Anyone Whom I Offended within the mysterious ether: I am desperately and passionately sorry for my impure thoughts. I offer my frantic apologies to all of the innocent babies who were slaughtered mercilessly in their sleep by my wayward words and feelings. I know that I can never undo these deplorable acts because I am myself a scourge on the very universe, lowlier than a worm. However, as a symbol of my righteous self-loathing, I hope you will accept this speech, which I will recite nightly on my knees before the twin altars of People magazine and The Tonight Show. I also promise to wear a hair-shirt under all my runway suits for the duration of my career, and to offer five Our Fathers a day to Al Sharpton, to whom I am apparently accountable for some reason. I will embrace suffering like a lover and pain like an old friend, to the eternal glory of Progressivism. Amen.
I feel better already. If you’re reading this out there, beware! You may have unrepented sins (such as saying something mean about Lena Dunham or thinking unflatteringly about Perez Hilton) on your conscience. I implore you to make amends by posting a heartfelt apology in the comments section of this article as soon as possible. And may Jimmy Fallon have mercy on your soul.
This essay is part of an ongoing dialogue between the writers of PJ Lifestyle and Liberty Island regarding the future of conservatism and the role of emerging counter-cultures in restoring American exceptionalism. See the previous installments in the series and join the discussion:
- Sarah Hoyt, March 22 2014: Interview: Adam Bellow Unveils New Media Publishing Platform Liberty Island
- David S. Bernstein, June 20 2014: What Is Liberty Island?
- Adam Bellow at National Review, June 30 2014 kicking off the discussion: Let Your Right Brain Run Free
- Dave Swindle on September 7, 2014: Why Culture Warriors Should Understand the 10 Astounding Eras of Disney Animation’s Evolution
- Dave Swindle on September 9, 2014: The 50 Greatest Counter-Culture Films of All Time, Part I
- Dave Swindle on September 19, 2014: The 50 Greatest Counter-Culture Films of All Time, Part II
- David S. Bernstein on November 19, 2014: 5 Leaders of the New Conservative Counter-Culture
- Dave Swindle on November 25, 2014: 7 Reasons Why Thanksgiving Will Be My Last Day on Facebook
- Dave Swindle on December 2, 2014: My Growing List of 65 Read-ALL-Their-Books Authors
- Mark Elllis on December 9, 2014: Ozzy Osbourne and the Conservative Tent: Is He In?
- Aaron C. Smith on December 22, 2014: The Villains You Choose
- Paula Bolyard on January 1, 2015: 7 New Year’s Resolutions for Conservatives
- Susan L.M. Goldberg on January 1, 2015: The Plan to Take Back Feminism in 2015
- Kathy Shaidle on January 4, 2015: Did the 1960s Really Happen? (Part One)
- Andrew Klavan on January 5, 2015: In 2015 The New Counter-Culture Needs to Be Offensive!
- Clay Waters on January 5, 2015: The Decline and Fall of Russell Brand
- Mark Ellis on January 5, 2015: How Conservatives Can Counter the Likable Liberal
- Audie Cockings on January 5, 2015: Entertainers Have Shorter Lifespans
- Aaron C. Smith on January 6, 2015: How Mario Cuomo Honestly Defined Zero-Sum Liberalism
- Stephen McDonald on January 10, 2015: Why the New Counter-Culture Should Make Strength Central to Its Identity
- Stephen McDonald on January 16, 2015: The Metaphorical War
- Kathy Shaidle on January 19, 2015: Did the 1960s Really Happen? (Part Two)
- Frank J. Fleming on January 20, 2015: What if Red Dawn Happened, But It Was Islamic Terrorists Instead of Communists?
- Mark Ellis on January 21, 2015: Adam Carolla: The Quintessential Counterculture Conservative?
- Aaron C. Smith on January 29, 2015: Objection! Why TV’s The Good Wife Isn’t Good Law
- David Solway on February 2, 2015: For a Song To Be Good, Must It Tell The Truth?
- Mark Ellis on February 6, 2015: President Me: Adam Carolla Vs. the Scourge of Narcissism
- David Solway on February 6, 2015: ‘Imagine’ a World Without the Brotherhood
- Aaron C. Smith on February 10, 2015: Kick NBC While It’s Down: Use The Williams Scandal to Set the Terms of the 2016 Debates
image illustration via here
We had a good time over at my Facebook page and on my Twitter feed (@andrewklavan) this week, running a caption contest on this picture:
Much hilarity ensued, much of it involving pudding pops and Jeffrey Epstein.
But I have to admit, the whole Cosby business saddens me.
When I was a little boy, Cos was the great hero of my life. I had all his comedy records. I had his picture on my wall. I made plans to become a stand-up comedian and made up routines in his style. I got to see him perform live several times. My father even took me to California and arranged for me to shake my idol’s hand: Cosby was on a break from filming the hopscotch opening to his first television special. That same trip, I got to watch him filming an episode of I Spy. It was my favorite show, of course. I never missed an episode.
Cosby became my hero again in my adulthood, when he stood up against the race hustlers and thug excusers and called on black Americans to take responsibility for their own children and their own lives. It’s sad that it requires courage for a black man to do that simple, sensible and helpful thing, but it does. The left — which includes the media — has built its power by dividing us, holding up white men especially as the Emmanuel Goldstein of their four-decade-long Two Minute Hate. If blacks — and women — and gays — ever figure out who the friends of their freedom really are, the left is finished. So Cosby was viciously attacked for his honesty.
Did he drug women and rape them while they were unconscious? God, I hope not. I hope the accusations are part of some kind of leftist conspiracy meant to silence him or punish him for speaking the truth. But we’ll see. If he did it, it was a pretty sick thing to do. Hard for a sane man even to see the pleasure in it. But easy enough to see the pathological cruelty. One can only imagine the mental damage it would do to the victim.
I hope it’s all baloney. But if it is true, I won’t make excuses even for my childhood hero, not as the left did for Bill Clinton and Ted Kennedy. If it is true, there can be no excuse.
As last week’s epically embarrassing “James Taylor” fiasco demonstrated, the Western establishment acts like the Sixties never ended.
All that “peace and love,” “soixant-huitard” stuff comprised but a slender slice of the 1960s, and much of that was bogus, a cynical scam that ruined millions of lives.
“OK,” some of you have said in the comments, “but at least that decade had a hell of a soundtrack!”
Yeah, about that…
— David Swindle (@DaveSwindle) December 15, 2014
From the Daily Mail, and don’t you just love those headlines?:
‘I don’t like [the pressure] that people put on me, on women, that you’ve failed yourself as a female because you haven’t procreated,’ she said.
Denial: The actress was forced to deny she was pregnant after being pictured on the red carpet in August, appearing to show a bump
‘I don’t think it’s fair. You may not have a child come out of your vagina, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t mothering – dogs, friends, friends, children.’
Since her split with husband Brad Pitt in 2005 Anniston has been the focus of intense media scrutiny in the U.S.
Almost every month a celebrity magazine in the US speculates that she is pregnant, getting married or engaged in a row with Angelina Jolie who recently married her ex-husband and has six children.
In August she was forced to issue a denial that she was pregnant after photos of her on the red carpet appeared to show a slight bulge in her dress.
What do you think? Does a career as a celebrated actress equal the life of a parent? Can’t one do both?
@DaveSwindle the reality is, if not having children really didn't bother her, she wouldn't waste time talking about it.
— S.L.M. Goldberg (@slmgoldberg) December 15, 2014
Bonus question: what is your favorite Jennifer Aniston movie?
In one of his most memorable roles, as the eponymous character of Tim Burton’s 1990 film Edward Scissorhands, Johnny Depp plays a semi-human manboy with shears for fingers, stuck in eternal youth as those around him wither. I thought of this film last week, as I watched a fifty-something Depp, drunk and clad in his usual get-up of randomly placed crosses and scarves, stumble to the microphone at a televised awards show and deliver a slurred “speech” in which he giggled, cursed, rocked, and swayed his way through a painful two minutes. Here was another manboy on display, albeit one lacking the charm and innocence of Burton’s creation.
It was a shame to see Depp, a genuinely talented and by most accounts kind and gentle man, reduce himself to this display. He is well into middle age—not that any age is an appropriate time for public drunkenness. I suspect his career won’t be dented much, if at all, by the episode. This is not just because he is a celebrity. One can’t imagine, say, Morgan Freeman stumbling onto the stage, delivering a gin-soaked introduction, and walking away with his career totally intact. No, it is Depp’s enduring “bad boy” image that affords him the extra latitude. Those crosses and scarves go a long way. If you can set yourself up as some kind of outsider, those on the inside will start to think they’re caged animals and become desperate for your kind of freedom. The bad boy’s appeal comes from nonchalantly scuffing the social rulebook with his cowboy boots and daring us not to like him because of it.
The lights went out on Mount Olympus a long time ago, but they’re burning bright on the red carpet. There’s a connection there – it’s not a coincidence that a world without Greek gods is a world that wants to know what Brad Pitt eats for breakfast. We can’t worship the ancient pantheon anymore – it would be ridiculous, and, God be praised, we know better. But like it or not, there’s a space in the human heart shaped like the pagan deities. That’s the space we’ve filled with T-Swift and J-Biebz, with Miley Cyrus and Will Smith. Absurd but true: with the old temples empty, we’ve built new altars to matinée idols.
Debbie Harry’s ex-boyfriend and Blondie co-founder Chris Stein has just released a photography collection, featuring his lifelong muse.
And why not? No less an authority than rock photography guru Bob Gruen famously said, “You can’t take a bad picture of Debbie Harry.”
Unfortunately, Stein marrs the collection with a stunningly multi-level-stupid comment, regarding his famous picture, above.
UK tabloids don’t push the limits of credibility any more than their American counterparts, but in a way they got there first. Here, Debbie is reading about sexism under the ayatollah.
Get it? Decades of well-documented, sharia-inspired violence against women in Iran was probably exaggerated, according to Stein, because it was reported by a lower class “red top” English tabloid back in the 1970s.
Stein further ingratiates himself with his British host by slagging stupid, hysterical American “yellow journalists,” too, for no apparent reason.
Factor in the word “sexism” as his mealy-mouthed synonym for “rape, torture and murder,” and it’s quite breathtaking how much smug “enlightened” ignorance Stein managed to squeeze into two just sentences.
Especially the same week that Iranian authorities executed a woman for killing her rapist.
All this from a man I feel safe in presuming voted for Obama twice, and whose views on every subject are reliably, predictably “progressive.”
But of course!
Dan McGurk from Toledo had one wish for his 30th birthday — that singer Kid Rock would come to his birthday party to help him celebrate.
“Hi, my name’s Dan and I’m the No. 1 Kid Rock fan,” said McGurk, who has Down Syndrome, in a YouTube video that garnered thousands of hits.
In the video, McGurk shows off his bedroom that is filled with Kid Rock gear — t-shirts, albums, a blanket, and walls covered with posters. “Please be there for my 30th birthday. … I hope you’ll come!” McGurk begged in the video.
This week, McGurk’s dream came true. During a celebration at Clarkston Union restaurant in downtown Clarkston, Michigan, Kid Rock surprised the 30 year old, joining the party and singing “Happy Birthday” as the birthday cake was served. The look on McGurk’s face when he sees Kid Rock is priceless. The singer put his arm around the man and hugged him and then sat down to chat with McGurk for a bit.
“I love that it worked out for me that I was going to be home,” said Kid Rock, who hails from Detroit. “Are you surprised?”
“Yeah! Yeah…yeah!” McGurk said. The two high-fived.
McGurk said that he had seen Kid Rock six times. “I’m the biggest #1 fan of you!”
Kid Rock didn’t come to the party empty-handed. He presented McGurk with a hat, a numbered poster (which he took the time to explain to McGurk), and a custom Kid Rock guitar, which he signed, after receiving permission from McGurk. “I’ll sign it for you if you want me to. You don’t want me to mess it up,” he said.
Before the evening ended, McGurk got Kid Rock to promise to let him hang out with the band the next time they played in Detroit. “He’s smart!” Kid Rock said.
Watch the sweet moment on the next page.
1. This Morning: ‘Honey Boo Boo’:TLC Cancels Show After June Dates Child Molester
TLC has CANCELLED “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” TMZ has learned, in the wake of our story that Mama June is dating a convicted child molester who sexually abused one of her relatives.
The decision comes one day after TMZ broke the story … June has been secretly dating Mark McDaniel, who got out of prison in March after serving 10 years for forcing oral sex on an 8-year-old.
2. Thursday: Mama June Dating Man Who Molested Her Relative
The new guy is 53-year-old Mark McDaniel. He was convicted in 2004 for aggravated child molestation. Prosecutors say he molested an 8-year-old child — forcing oral sex. June was dating McDaniel at the same time he molested the child.
We’re told Bryan and Michelle have been friends for years and he has wanted this baby for a long time.
Our sources say the 2 are not romantically involved but rather extremely close friends.
At the Daily Beast:
Bethany Mandel said in a phone interview that she did a practice dunk while converting in 2011. She claims Freundel told her that he required practice dunks specifically to avoid rabbis seeing women naked during the conversion process. Freundel had created the practice dunks because of an experience with a prior convert, according to Mandel. That woman, Mandel said, in nervousness over the completion of her conversion, “stood up and turned around, and like full-frontal exposed herself to the rabbis… he wanted to do practice dunks so that people wouldn’t expose themselves on mikvah day.”
Even after Freundel’s arrest, most of the women interviewed expressed uncertainty about whether they were targets of the alleged voyeurism. Several said they’d felt the practice dunks were a helpful part of the conversion process—including Mandel.
The evidence supports Wilson’s claim that Brown’s hand was on or near his gun. A forensic pathologist who reviewed the autopsy says the wounds don’t show that Brown was running away or had his hands up.
Since its release, Transmormon has racked up a number of awards, including the Artistic Vision Award at the 2014 Big Sky Documentary Film Festival. In the process, 25-year-old Hayward has become a transgender poster child, at least to Mormons. But she is a little surprised by the role. “I’m not trying to break any social norms. I’m not trying to break any walls or do anything they don’t understand.”
Hayward doesn’t mean that with a false sense of modesty. Nor is she taking the rhetorical strategy of playing down how dramatic a push for social change is by making it seem more familiar. She really just wants to be an old-fashioned girl. “I’m saying there is something wrong on the outside, fix it, and I will be a conforming member of society,” she says. After years of struggling to articulate that she was transgender, she is more than happy to have people recognize her as a woman—and leave it at that.
Making fun of Al Gore, Michael Moore and Tom Friedman is getting stale.
Those liberal hypocrites are all so… ten years ago.
Luckily, veteran English fashion designer Vivienne Westwood has stepped into the breach, providing us with a brand new clueless, tone-deaf progressive do-gooder millionaire to make fun of.
Westwood first rose to fame in the 1970s, when she and then-husband Malcolm McLaren opened the King’s Road boutique Let It Rock.
Under various names — Sex, Seditionaries — the shop became one of two where British punk germinated, the other being Don Letts’ Acme Attractions.
Westwood created the rude, ripped, rubbery clothing forever associated with the movement, while McLaren tended the musical side, cobbling together a house band to publicize the store. (Hence the name Sex Pistols.)
As the group’s lead singer, Johnny Rotten (ne Lydon) recalled:
Malcolm and Vivienne were really a pair of shysters: they would sell anything to any trend that they could grab onto.
Fast forward to 2014, and imagine, say, Jimmy Swaggart getting the Presidential Medal of Freedom. That’s how weird it should be that Vivienne Westwood was named a Dame of the British Empire by the queen in 2006.
But no one seems to think it odd at all that “shyster” Westwood remains a powerful cultural force, having switched sides from pseudo-rebel to Establishment figure.
Or, to put it more accurately, for being both things at the same time.
Via NBC News:
Talented actress Penelope Cruz can add another notch to her fame. The Spanish beauty has been named Esquire’s “sexiest woman alive.”
The star of Spanish movies like “Volver” and English-language movies like Woody Allen’s “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” is the 11th woman to be given the title by the magazine. Esquire’s previous honorees include Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, Rihanna, Charlize Theron and Scarlett Johansson.
Sad that Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz are anti-Semites, but not unexpected given Spain's sky-high Jew-hatred http://t.co/ajnvalRqP0
— Ben Shapiro (@benshapiro) July 29, 2014
Consider one of Esquire’s previous choices… The Independent in January: “Scarlett Johansson hits back at Oxfam after charity criticises ambassador over Israeli campaign deal with SodaStream“:
But the 29-year-old actress refused to back down over her campaign, stating that she “never intended on being the face of any social or political movement, distinction, separation or stance”.
“I remain a supporter of economic cooperation and social interaction between a democratic Israel and Palestine,” she added in a statement released to The Huffington Post on Friday.
“SodaStream is not only committed to the environment but to building a bridge to peace between Israel and Palestine, supporting neighbours working alongside each other, receiving equal pay, equal benefits and equal rights.”
Oscar Wilde’s 1882 journey to America continues to fascinate, and why not?
Everyone loves a fish out of water story, so the true saga of a Victorian dandy roughing it on the wild American frontier, hanging out with (and winning over) rugged coal miners and cowboys is pretty irresistible.
(That Wilde’s garish velvet get-ups clothed a beefy 6’3″ Irishman perfectly capable of beating up bullies no doubt surprised and delighted his new admirers.)
Now a new book revisits Wilde’s visit to the New World, but with a twist.
David M. Friedman’s Wilde in America presents his subject as the proto-Kardashian:
If that seems unfair to the acclaimed playwright, essayist, poet, children’s author (and gay movement mascot), Friedman reminds readers that when Oscar Wilde stepped off the ship onto America’s shores, he was, in fact, none of those things.
Jennifer Lawrence on Her Hacked Nude Photos: ‘I Can’t Believe That We Even Live in That Kind of World.’
From Vanity Fair, “Cover Exclusive: Jennifer Lawrence Calls Photo Hacking a ‘Sex Crime’”:
Lawrence speaks of the wrenching moment when she had to call her father about the hack. “When I have to make that phone call to my dad and tell him what’s happened … I don’t care how much money I get for The Hunger Games,” she says. “I promise you, anybody given the choice of that kind of money or having to make a phone call to tell your dad that something like that has happened, it’s not worth it.” She allows herself to joke a little about that terrible moment: “Fortunately, he was playing golf, so he was in a good mood.”
With her words now out in the open, the F.B.I. on the case, and a billion-dollar franchise to carry over the finish line, Lawrence seems to be regaining her footing.
“Time does heal, you know,” she tells Kashner. “I’m not crying about it anymore. I can’t be angry anymore. I can’t have my happiness rest on these people being caught, because they might not be. I need to just find my own peace.”
And what do you think of Lawrence’s explanation for why she took naked images of herself?
I started to write an apology, but I don’t have anything to say I’m sorry for. I was in a loving, healthy, great relationship for four years. It was long distance, and either your boyfriend is going to look at porn or he’s going to look at you.
Related: the new Hunger Games film was featured on today’s list of September’s 10 Most Popular Movie Trailers by Walter Hudson.
Google is a hypocritical company that victimizes women and enables “habitual pervert predators”… so claim more than a dozen female celebrities who are now threatening to sue.
The women are outraged that Google refuses to remove the various hacked nude photos from their search engines and various sites.
In a scathing, threatening letter — obtained by TMZ — Marty Singer, the legal pitbull repping the women, lashes out at Google, claiming their motto, “Don’t be evil” is a sham because that’s exactly what they are by turning a blind eye to the hacking.
Three weeks ago, compromising images of dozens of celebrities – including model Cara Delevingne and Jessica Brown Findlay – emerged online after a hacker reportedly gained access to their iCloud accounts and stole their pictures.
While it appears that she was unaffected by the attacks, actress Cameron Diaz recently expressed her thoughts on the scandal while in London to promote her latest movie Sex Tape.
Speaking on ITV’s This Morning in the UK, she said: ‘Whoever has done it, they will be caught and made examples of. This can happen to anyone. If these guys can do it to this group of people then everyone’s vulnerable to it.
‘I think that people really need to look at… how would they feel if it happened to them?’
Last month, actress Kirsten Dunst became the first celebrity to publicly criticize technology giant Apple when she posted a sarcastic message on Twitter.
The Spiderman star tweeted ‘Thank you iCloud’, the day after naked photos of her were published online.
A nasty showdown erupted on the set of The View last Thursday when the show’s moderator Whoopi Goldberg and co-host Rosie O’Donnell got into a heated spat in front of the studio audience.
Rosie was upset because Whoopi cut her off on a ‘Hot Topic’ subject that O’Donnell indicated she was passionate about backstage before the show. The segment ran out of time and Whoopi had to cut to a commercial, a show insider tells MailOnline exclusively.
The ‘Hot Topic’ was on spanking and the segment was running long, so producers told Whoopi it was time to go to commercial break in her ear. Rosie refuses to wear an ISD monitor in her ear so the control room is unable to speak to her.
‘Well I just don’t appreciate you saying that you were going to do something and not doing it. It makes me upset and I just don’t want to have to go through this,’ O’Donnell continued.
Goldberg, looking annoyed, shot back: ‘I said this was not the time Rosie.’
Not phased by the Oscar winner’s petition to leave matters alone until after the show, the 52-year-old comedienne continued to vent about Whoopi’s actions.
The View moderator then fired back to Rosie: ‘F*** it, I told you to leave it alone and you just don’t want to listen. If you want to go there Rosie, I will dammit. I’m really sick of your s***!’
A hush fell over the studio.
I’ve written before about that phenomenon — does it have a name? — whereby a particular song takes on an added layer of poignancy after a performer dies.
For me, those songs include Boston’s “More than a Feeling” (after vocalist Brad Delp committed suicide in 2007) and any number of Joe Strummer’s solo tunes, particularly his version of “Redemption Song.”
I hope you know what I mean.
(And will add your own lists of such songs in the comments.)
While I’ve never been a big Fleetwood Mac fan, if I ever do hear their tune “Sara” again, I suspect it will have a similar effect on me:
Stevie Nicks is no stranger to rumors. She finally confirmed longstanding conjecture that she wrote one of her best-known songs partly about the child she conceived with Eagles frontman Don Henley, then aborted.
Henley said more than 20 years ago that the Fleetwood Mac song “Sara,” which hit number 7 on the Billboard charts in 1979, was about the baby they never saw. (…)
In a special interview with Billboard magazine on Friday, Nicks said their baby inspired many of the song’s lyrics.
“Had I married Don and had that baby, and had she been a girl, I would have named her Sara,” she said.
Let’s push the pause button on politics, to note the decline and fall of what was a great civilization.
Have you seen this show, Dating Naked? It follows similar cable fare such as Discovery’s Naked and Afraid. These shows have “naked” in the title, which is a dead giveaway of what they’re about.
They’re about regular people getting naked for basic cable. Duh. That ought to be clear. It’s censored but still R rated stuff.
Dating Naked is a twist on earlier highbrow fare like Love Connection. Only, the daters are naked together on the first date. And they have a full crew around them shooting every word and every move in every contrived situation. And there are editors who will go over every frame of footage to condense hours of nakedness into a 30-minute show, with the naughty bits blurred out to keep the show’s maturity rating below the Hustler level.
When a person signs on to appear on Dating Naked, they’re taking enormous risks. But those risks are pretty obvious.
For one, a whole lotta people are gonna see you naked. If there’s even one mistake, one innocent error, a whole lot more people are gonna see you naked.
And what if any of the raw footage leaks onto the forever Internet? Game over for whatever might be left of your privacy and dignity.
The risks weren’t obvious to Jessie Nizewitz, 28. Her naughty bits weren’t blurred for a couple of seconds that aired. So she wants an apology, and by the way, millions of dollars. Because of all the hurt it caused her.
Jessie Nizewitz, 28, says she was repeatedly promised by the producers that her private parts would be “blurred out” during the show’s third episode in May.
So she stripped down to her birthday suit with wet beach sand covering parts of her body and performed a WWE-style wrestling move on her date while the producers egged her on, according to the $10 million suit filed in Manhattan by her high- powered lawyer, Matthew Blit.
“I felt lied to, manipulated and used. I was horrified,” Nizewitz told The Post, explaining that she was brought to tears.
When the episode aired on July 31, Nizewitz became the butt of jokes on YouTube, Twitter and Tumblr, the papers state.
“…butt of jokes…” We see what you did there, New York Post.
Even the runway model’s family caught an eyeful.
“My grandma saw it. I saw her this week and she didn’t have much to say to me. She’s probably mad. My parents are just annoyed,” Nizewitz lamented.
She says that the seconds of accidental clarity cost her a budding relationship with a boyfriend. Seeing her prancing around butt naked but mostly blurred on national TV — not a problem!
“He never called me again after the show aired. I would have hoped we could have had a long-term relationship. He was employed, Jewish, in his 30s and that’s pretty much ideal,” Nizewitz said.
You know what’s not ideal? Starting off a relationship with a lovely young woman who you really like, only to turn on the TV and see that she’s willing to romp around naked in front of her grandma and your family and everyone else, for a few thousand bucks.
To some people — horrible prudes stuck in the Victorian era, no doubt — that might even be a deal-breaker.
The whole point of a defamation suit is to seek reparation for damage done to your reputation. Indeed, in the wake of his shockingly successful defamation suit against the estate (read: widow and children) of American Sniper author Chris Kyle, former Minnesota governor turned conspiracy peddler Jesse Ventura declared that his reputation was restored. But restored to what? This guy wasn’t exactly a pillar of the community before Kyle claimed to have punched him in a bar. Here’s ten ways Jesse Ventura ruined his reputation without Kyle’s help.
10. Wrote a Conspiracy Book on the JFK Assassination
Jesse’s status as a conspiracy peddler will make repeat appearances on this list. It’s quite a downshift from governor of a state, and yet the path Ventura chose upon returning to private life.
Confirmation bias marks the conspiratorial mindset. It’s easy to latch faithfully onto information which appears to verify your presumptions, and just as easy to flatly dismiss information which contradicts your biases. Jesse exhibits that well in this exchange with former CNN host Piers Morgan.
I knew this day would come. I’ve been wondering when I would feel compelled to write about the “other” Megan Fox who is a part of my daily life whether I want her to be or not. Grocery store checkout girls gasp and giggle at the sight of my credit card, AT&T phone operators in India ask trepidatiously if I’m really HER. Several times a day, I hear, “Megan Fox? Like the movie star!” Why yes. Yes I am. I’m becoming like that poor guy named Donald Trump who is not Donald Trump but gets reservations anywhere he wants while disappointing countless hostesses. It’s mostly tiresome but sometimes funny. Recently, Fox (the other one) made the news for speaking truthfully about the state of her heart when it comes to making movies when she has small children at home:
“I’ve never been an extraordinarily ambitious girl or career-oriented, but especially once I got pregnant with my first son and now [having] my second, it’s so hard to be a working mom especially when your heart is not in your work, when your heart is with your family.”
Megan Fox is experiencing what most mothers feel the moment they set eyes on their tiny new child. Suddenly, everything else becomes less important, even when you’re a big time movie star. Regardless of what faux feminists tell women that they can “have it all” or they should never give up the rat race and press ahead by hiring nannies and using daycare, Fox isn’t falling for it, and neither do most of us. This is not to say there aren’t countless women who have to work who would rather not. They are in the same category as Fox. Necessity demands they work but deep down, here are the reasons they’d prefer not to.
5. Your giggling baby.
You never know what’s going to set them off. You don’t want to miss it when it happens.
10. Americans are all obese.
From the messy buildup in the fat folds of Mama June’s neck (affectionately known to her children as “neck crud”) to Honey’s proclivity for bathing in mayonnaise, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo embodies the myth that everyone in America weighs a minimum of 300 pounds. One of the best episodes involves Mama June dumping a 5 pound bag of sugar into 2 gallons of lemon juice in order to make homemade lemonade. For the record, 64% of Americans are not obese. But with shows like HHere Comes Honey Boo Boo, The Biggest Loser, Extreme Weight Loss, Shedding for the Wedding, Thintervention, Dance Your A** Off, Celebrity Fit Club, I Used To Be Fat, and Ruby, we’re just a bunch of big, fat Americans.
We’ve all heard of the horrors of Cop Rock and Manimal, but after receiving a reader tip on one of their worst TV shows of all time, I did some digging and uncovered these utterly classic samples of bad television that would make great material for Joel McHale or the cast of Mystery Science Theater 3000.
10. Bucky and Pepito (1959)
Produced by Sam Singer, “The Ed Wood of Animation,” Bucky and Pepito was a typical story of an “ambitious” white cowboy and his “lazy” (literally, they sing about it in the theme song) Mexican buddy trolling the old west on a zero budget. According to Toonopedia, “Cartoon historian Harry McCracken once said the pair ‘set a standard for awfulness that no contemporary TV cartoon has managed to surpass. They were great at what they did, which was being bad.’” Thanks to Bucky and Pepito, cartoonists have debated creating a Sam Singer Award for truly bad animation.
Maybe Whoopi Goldberg should stick to parsing the nuances of the word “rape.”
The View-er is now under fire for shrugging off Justin Bieber’s use of the “n-word” in a recently surfaced old video.:
You know, Canadian words — I’m going to say the word so get ready to beat me. N—-r doesn’t mean anything in Canada.
Goldberg knows this because she “did a movie last year, in Canada.”
That’s know-nothing celebrity smugness on the level of (bad) satire.
She played a nun once, too; I look forward to Whoopi’s exegesis on Humane Vitae.
I’m a 50-year-old Canadian. I have never uttered the N-word. I don’t think my mouth can form the letters.
When I was a kid, once in a while some boy would call Niagara Falls “N***** Falls.” He’d be rewarded with groans. It was considered a “low class” thing to say even in my “low class” environs.
The word has always been a slur in Canada, and a particularly virulent one at that.
After all, that’s the context in which Bieber was using it. He wasn’t referring to one of his “posse” in cringe-worthy “wigger” fashion. He was joking about cutting black people up with a chainsaw.
That makes Goldberg’s defense that much more idiotic.
She’s right Canada doesn’t share America’s history of slavery, but only because God made the place too cold for cotton — something I thank God for every day, as I’m forced to listen to you guys whine and fret about race relations 24/7.
Don’t get me wrong: Canada has its own smaller-scale “original sins.”
For the most part, however, they have been exaggerated and exploited by professional victims who are jealous of the mileage American “civil rights” hustlers have gotten out of playing the race card.
(These professional victims are the same people who love to boast about how much better we are than Americans — even though Canadians are the ones who, for example, invented school shootings…)
Alas, Goldberg’s comments will be used to bolster the already-toxic anti-Americanism that is the connective tissue of the moral preen-ers on the Canadian left, some of whom are congratulating themselves on their own wonderfulness in the comments at the National Post.
That our nation’s “moral superiority” is mostly an accident of climate and geography never occurs to them.
This is Will and Jada Pinkett Smith’s young daughter, a mere 13-year old Willow, in bed with a 20-year-old shirtless man (Moises Arias, of Hannah Montana “fame”). The couple have told TMZ through their back channels that they’re okay with the image, trusting that their teenage daughter is mature enough to not cross any lines. The photo seems much more scandalous than it appears to be. Apparently Willow was in a room with several friends, including Arias, a longtime family friend of the Smiths. Arias happened to be shirtless, but it doesn’t appear there was any funny business taking place before or after the photo was taken. It was merely an “expression of art,” so she claims.
I’m a conservative woman and an Orthodox Jew, yet despite that, I am surprisingly in disagreement with FishWrapper‘s take on the scene:
Apparently, Willow and Moises here go way back: they’ve been close friends for a long time. So they probably hung out when Moises was 19 and Willow was 12, and when Moises was 18 and Willow was 11. … you get the creepy picture. And this has always been fine with Willow’s parents because they feel like Willow is totally mature enough to do basically whatever she wants. And that obviously includes inviting, for whatever reason, a 20-year-old shirtless adult man to lie with her in a bed, and that is awful.
Why is it so hard to just take care of your children? In what universe should any 13-year-old be granted the ability to make all of her own decisions? Maturity varies from child to child, of course, but that’s the whole point: she’s still, regardless of anything, a child. And this is simply unacceptable.
So, hey, Will and Jada, do you think you could do your children a favor and actually parent them? Maybe just a little. At least enough so that they won’t be subjected to atrocities like this.
Are they they worst parents in the world? Maybe, maybe not. However, it takes an incredible amount of self-restraint for the Smiths to react in public as they have. No matter how the Smiths may have felt about the image, they would have had the best publicity response by responding how most Americans have, with abject horror. Willow’s parents, being savvy media personalities, are well aware of how they could have best recovered their reputations as parents.