Much has been made over the past week of M.I.A.’s latest music video. Is it a cheap ploy to shock people and get attention, or a masterpiece that marries art with politics? Multiple publications (WaPo, HuffPo, NYDN) were so confused on the matter that they had to take polls from their readers. Now, Ian Hamrick, the adorable redheaded boy who gets shot in the head in one of the video’s most graphic moments has made some thoughtful comments to TMZ on the subject, presumably while on his way home from the comic book store with his mom.
Upon encountering Ian and his mom in a parking lot, the TMZ interviewer asks him what he thinks the video’s message is. After stalling for a bit to collect his thoughts, he responds with this:
I guess she was trying to show violence to end violence…the video was definitely not for kids, I haven’t even seen the full video myself, but…for all the adults in different countries who are doing the genocides in real life…it’s showing violence to end it, showing what it really means.
“You’re like, blowing me away with your answers,” the flabbergasted paparazzo responds. “You’re like, a rockin 12-year-old.” While I cannot see inside the mind of a TMZ paparazzo, I can only imagine he’s excited to post a question weightier than “who are you wearing?” or “is it true that you’re addicted to oxycontin?”
This kid has all the markings of a rising star. In true celeb form, he refers to M.I.A. as “a sweetheart,” and even has the presence of mind to note they’d “passed by the car” while being interviewed. And this goes without saying, but it’s comforting to see him with brains intact. America, meet your new favorite ginger kid.
Comedienne Chelsea Handler has confirmed the existence of a sex tape she made over ten years ago when she was first trying to get noticed in the Los Angeles comedy scene. The always-observant Radar Online reports that “while she claims she made it as a ‘joke,’ if that’s true, it’s one XXX joke!” You don’t say.
Handler preempted her critics on her show the other night with a cavalier speech on the matter:
I would like to say to RadarOnline.com, thanks for ruining my surprise Christmas gift to my staff, and number two, it was made as a joke. I put it on an audition tape for a comedy club, because I’m a comedian, and I’ve been showing it at birthday parties for fucking years. So, way to get the scoop, Radar. And by the way, I just want everyone to know that someone called my attorney a couple months ago and tried to get me to pay a million dollars to buy the tape of myself, that I made, that I have. And you know what I said? I’m not worth it.
Props to Chelsea for dealing with this as one should, via jokes.
The magic blanket George Clooney wraps his face in each night must be working, because dude is almost 50 years old, and he just keeps getting more Clooney-esque. But not even the dreamiest of sex bombs can defuse actual bombs (unless you’re this guy), which is why everyone is totally freaking out over a platoon’s worth of vintage WWII era explodeables found at the bottom of the lake near his villa in Italy. The Daily Mail is reporting
The area around the house has been sealed off by Italian soldiers for the operation while navy divers bring the 500lb munitions to the surface and take them to a cave where they will be detonated. They had been on the floor of the lake for more than 60 years before they were discovered after a fisherman pulled a device from the lake bed…Residents whose houses overlook the area, including Clooney’s, have been told to stay indoors and away from windows… Michele Tortora, local prefect for the area of Como, said: “This is a very complex operation as the munitions have been in the water for a long time and are unstable.”
Menacing! Were this a movie, Clooney would probably just dive down there and disarm them with his teeth, so feel free to fantasize about how that might look. Nobody has yet said how the bombs got in the lake to begin with. While one might presume that the Italian army did not go around wasting bombs willy-nilly, perhaps they kind of lost track of stuff towards the end. Or maybe it’s a posthumous plot by Hitler to plant bombs that would someday kill one of our national treasures, leaving Italian TV hosts without a potential future boyfriend.
Ever since the Insane Clown Posse’s video for “Miracles” dropped earlier this month, people the Internet over have been making fun of it. The king juggalos’ earnest bewilderment at stuff like music, magnets, and cell-phone-hungry pelicans, combined with cheesy nature graphics that stand at odds with their nightmarish clown appearance, make it almost too easy for folks like SNL to skewer it by dialing up the stupidity just one colorful clown hair. But how does this make Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope feel? Yesterday, an interview with Vulture provided answers.
First, Violent J makes a half-hearted admission to knowing most of this stuff isn’t “magic everywhere in this bitch”, but science. Nonetheless, he’d hoped audiences would understand his metaphorical use of the word “miracle” to mean “something awesome, like a great happening or an awesome event.” “Maybe we were a little loose with the word, ’cause everyone seems to pick on the fact that a lot of the things we mention are not, in fact, miracles,” he says, before retreating to stand his ground: “Let me tell you something — a giraffe is a fucking miracle.” But like the true, cool-headed Zen master he is, Violent J isn’t mad about your failure to understand his complex use of metaphor. “It doesn’t make us angry because we’ve always been the most hated band in the world,” he says, reasonably. “But it makes me sad that people walk around unable to appreciate that shit. It makes me feel sorry for them.”
Do you hear that, haters? J pities you. He also takes the chance to reiterate his happiness that, rather than being “born inside of a rock, eating algae off the fucking walls,” we were “born on this incredible planet, with all its secrets and mysteries.” Is the rock on another planet? Confusing.
On the whole, this interview does not make great strides towards convincing me that ICP understands science any more than their original assertion, “I don’t wanna talk to a scientist/y’all muthafuckas lyin’ and gettin’ me pissed” would convey. But one important fact did emerge: they squashed their beef with Eminem via bowling, sort of. That’s one miracle we did not see coming.
From the beginning of her infidelity scandal, even mean and nasty people have felt sorry for Sandra Bullock. I mean, she’s worked so hard making movies for us all, plus she just seems like a nice lady. Poor lonely Sandra Bullock, all lonely and miserable because of love. And did I mention she is lonely? Well, the plucky actress must’ve gotten sick of all that pity, because now she has procured herself-a child, and is posing on the current cover of People with it.
She is so happy about her baby that everyone can stop feeling sad for her, now. And look at him! He’s only 3.5 months old, but he is already gazing out at us with the wise air of Clarence Thomas, or maybe the deviousness of Baby Stewie (it’s too early to tell). He even has an adorable old person name: Louis. That’s my grampa’s name! As the baby is American (New Orleans, to be exact), they maybe didn’t need to pose him with an exotic string of beads around his body, but what are you going to do?
“He’s just perfect, I can’t even describe him any other way,” Bullock told People. “It’s like he’s always been a part of our lives.” Err, you mean, your life. Anyway, it’s lucky that the adoption went through just when Sandra needed cheering up the most. I, for one, can’t wait to see what evil plans this little guy hatches.
In a shocking statement made at ASCAP’s “I Create Music” EXPO in Hollywood recently, the world’s mouthiest easy-listening musician has threatened to quit sharing his important thoughts and feelings via Twitter. He has even gone so far as to declare it as being “over.” Says Mayer, “Within in the last couple weeks, every night I think about canceling my Twitter account because I think it’s pretty much done,” he said. “I just think Twitter as a form of communication, I think it’s over to be honest with you.”
Did you hear that, Twitter? Social media expert John Mayer has declared you “over” and thinks about maybe eventually taking steps to cancel you each night after he crysturbates! Might as well shut down the servers now, because he is the arbiter of all things kewl and hip. Didn’t you see him on Chappelle’s Show that one time a few years back?
He went on to explain the medium’s severe flaws:
“I would rather see Twitter be a cork board of links to other more important things, because it’s really sort of flawed from the beginning. I can’t tell you how many times I meet people or I’m having dinner with people who write stuff and they get upset they have haters now, like, ‘Why do I want to invent more reasons to have haters?’”
Translation: Twitter is bad because it holds a gun to celebrities’ heads and forces them to twat stupid things, which cruel, jealous haters then mock mercilessly, hurting said celebrities’ feelings. Unfair. But how will he escape its tyrannical clutches?
“My challenge going forward is to basically disregard the need, the obsessive need for external validation,” he said. Then he’s going to start a punk band and have a healthy relationship.
As an analog to the continued vampirification of Little Jenny Humphrey, the actress who plays her has been dressing like a wee tart and acting like an asshole, as all teenage girls do for several cycles of their hysterical menses. But unlike Jenny Humphrey, who has try-hard dad Rufus holding her down, Momsen gets to do whatever she wants, so she thinks she is queen of everything. Witness this interview given to EW.com.
On the question of whether she’s influenced by Courtney Love, she says, “I don’t wanna be Courtney Love—I wanna be Kurt Cobain. He’s brilliant and his songs are genius,” as if he is still alive in the present tense. She goes on to say people compare her to Love unfairly “because they think we like dress the same and we both have blond hair, wear lipstick and dresses. But I’m sorry, don’t a lot of girls dress like that?” No, honey. Most girls have parents.
Witness also the condescension in how this little ingrate deals with Courtney: “The Hole records are great…[but] I look at Nirvana. I don’t look at Hole.” Bitch, please. You would be lucky to have half the talent and career of the indestructible C-lo, insanity and all.
Then the interviewer mentions the time she saw Momsen perform without the appropriate garment to cover her tiny pudenda, asking aptly, “what was up with that?” “I don’t really like pants, man,” she replies. “I like tights. I’m not really a pants person,” as if the two are acceptable substitutions for one another. Even Courtney wears some type of skirt apparatus so she can show us her panties if she feels like it, but not if she doesn’t. It’s suspenseful. In the immortal words of Blair Waldorf, “tights are not pants!”
Attention, Pete Campbell fans (all two of you). A recently published interview with actor Vincent Kartheiser reveals him to be almost as crazy as his character on Mad Men, only instead of being a grasping, uptight, asshole, he’s a compulsively ascetic, unshaven asshole. Among the more sensationalistic revelations is the fact that, despite playing a character who seems like he wipes his ass until it bleeds, his house is currently sans lavatory.
“Like, I don’t have a toilet at the moment. My house is just a wooden box. I mean I am planning to get a toilet at some point. But for now I have to go to the neighbours. I threw it all out…It was in response to going to these Golden Globe type events and they just give you stuff…One day, I looked around and thought ‘I don’t want this stuff, I didn’t ask for it’. So I started giving it to friends or charity stores, or if it is still in its box I might sell it for a hundred bucks. I liked it so I didn’t stop.”
He’s lucky he has nice neighbors. If it were me, I’d probably say, “Hey, aren’t you that guy from Mad Men? Don’t you, ergo, have the resources to both fix your crazy and purchase a commode? Then git.”
Besides the obvious imposition on neighbors, there’s also the question of overnight guests. Picture a lady who, after bedding the rugged television star, awakes in the night to find she must pee and poop outside. Not cool! I looked to the interview to shed some light on the subject. Apparently the 30-year-old has never had a girlfriend, even going so far as to wear a wedding ring to “scare off” the fairer sex, like so many varmints. “I don’t understand women, I’m off that kick,” he says. Rats.
Today, in celebrity drink tossing: after a long week of fighting with her dad, who is maybe a fame succubus, but who also maybe just wants to be able to make her go to rehab (or maybe both!), our Lilo needed to blow off some steam. So she did what any leathery divorcee would do: she stomped down to her ex-girlfriend’s job at L.A. hotspot Trousdale and heaved a full glass of alcohol at said ex’s face with all her might. Luckily for SamRo, the sometime actress’s decaying husk of an arm lacks the speed and coordination necessary to actually connect, and Lilo is now officially banned from every booze-serving establishment in the lower-48, including Hooters. Listen Lilo, I know you are jealous that your ex gets to do the easy job of playing records while you’re pounding the pavement after getting fired, but this is not a good look.
Meanwhile, in Miami, our Snooki had a dust-up with a man whose sexual attentions had frightened and confused the adorable oompa-loompa. Each threw some comestibles at the other, but the ne’er-do-well was ejected from the bar while Snooki got to stay, which means she won. And she still had time to do a comprehensive breast exam on both herself and her companion, JWOWW, for health. She is clearly the winner of today’s classy lady contest.