It was announced this week that Robert Pattinson will be presenting at this year's Oscars. Nielson should see a spike in ratings from the zygote-coffin female demographic. I'm using an older photo of him, before he Britney Spears'd himself and cut off all of his beautiful, magical locks and started allowing himself to be pictured in circa-90s flannel. You know what, though? I'm willing to overlook it.
I'll preface what I'm about to say here with the following confession: Coldplay makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out with a spork. Okay, so at the time of its release I vaguely fancied "Yellow" (I was young and impressionable and doing A LOT of drugs), and I will admit to at one time being mildly taken with the video for "The Scientist" (in the same way that under the right emotional circumstances one might find oneself mildly taken with, say, the images in an Anne Geddes calendar). But beyond those two qualified concessions I have no love for Coldplay, and generally fall in line with those who view the band as being, at best, "Radiohead Lite." And to my mind, even that sort of diminishing juxtaposition may be doing Radiohead a disservice.
The comparison isn't a new or original one, of course -- Coldplay has long been dogged by accusations of lifting liberally from Radiohead's catalog, and the band's influence on Coldplay's music is something singer Chris Martin has publicly acknowledged in fanboyish tones on more than one occasion, despite Thom Yorke's withering dismissal of Coldplay as "lifestyle music." In 2005, Martin effused, "We're like an eager dog just yapping around their heels, and they're trying to kick us away. It's like unrequited love. I'm in love with a lot of things. Some of those things love me back. And some of them don't -- and one of them is Radiohead." And as recently as June of last year Martin was quoted in a Rolling Stone interview as saying, “Sometimes I feel like [Radiohead] cleared a path with a machete, and we came afterward and put up a strip mall. I would still give my left ball to write anything as good as OK Computer."
Umm, Chris? In order for someone with your caliber of talent to write something as good as OK Computer we're going to need BOTH balls, kay?
Who knew singer Chris Brown was a woman-beater?
Last night during the Grammys Brown turned himself in to authorities after he was charged with the felony in connection with domestic violence. Against Rihanna. His girlfriend. Later authorities informed news outlets that the official charge is a one count felony criminal threat. There is also a report that she may have been assaulted with a deadly weapon.
[*UPDATE after the jump]
But things will get interesting when the group eagerly races to the Grammy's red carpet where they hope to win: Satriani has hired a herd of roving process servers to roam Los Angeles in search of the group and will go so far as to serve them at the awards.
Would you Buy a $175,000 package to attend the Oscars? I wouldn't recommend it. Because the people who put on the Oscars are not going to be honoring those tickets. In fact, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has filed a law suit against an Arizona-based company selling a package to attend the awards show.
The Academy accused the company, called Experience 6 and McMurry Inc., of selling "black-market" tickets, because tickets to the show cannot be transferred or sold.
The Oscars are like my Super Bowl. Well, no, wait. The Super Bowl is my Super Bowl (Go Steelers!), and the Oscars are my fancy-dresses-pretty-men-cry-during-your-acceptance-speech-and-I'll-cry-with-you bowl.
Sunday night, Kate Winslet, seven-time Golden Globe nominee, walked home with not one but TWO Golden Globes. This is worth remarking upon for a couple reasons:
1. It took FIVE previous nominations to get her there.
2. She was up against some pretty amazing women in both categories.
3. OMFG I LOVE HER! ALL CAPS!!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEE!
So anyway, about that Best Actress acceptance speech...
I turned on the Golden Globes Sunday night for the same reason most people turned it on: to ooh and ahh (and, fine, also ridicule) at the dresses and hair styles. (Drew Barrymore? Just ... no.) But I do like television shows and movies, so there was bound to be an award category or two that held my interest. Unfortunately, all of my favorite TV sitcoms were either left off the ticket altogether or they were totally kicked in the ass by "30 Rock."
Last night, Heath Ledger won a Golden Globe, but this is not about that. This is about the contradiction inside all of us and that old tenacious rage to burn down the confines of stasis and be something more or less - to just be, seemingly no matter what it is, Something Else.
I really love Aretha Franklin. I haven't really paid much attention to the music that she's produced during most of my life, but her older stuff is, of course, everlasting and timeless. And her voice is still rather incredible. I would listen to her sing the ingredients of a bag of Cheetos.
I'm pretty honest with myself and will come right out and say that I have no life. So you'll understand where I'm coming from when I say...
Raise your hand if this has happened to you: On the day the Oscar nominations come out, you haul your bleary arse out of your East Coast bed to watch the live telecast. And as Mr. Executive Graybeard and Ms. Perky Sunshine list the nominees, you say out loud: "Um, who?" Then you slap yourself in the face a few times (to shake the early morning cobwebs), rewind the DVR, and you still have no clue who these people are.
Well, AMPAS wants to change all that. It wants Iron Man to get a Metal Man.
I had a suspicion, after the Jimmy Kimmel "I F**ked Ben Affleck" video (below), that Josh Groban didn't take himself as seriously as it has always seemed, but his appearance on last night's 60th Annual Emmy awards makes me sure of it.
(2:15 seconds in).
Britney Spears will indeed release a new album this year -- on her 27th birthday, December 2nd.
The new album is called "Circus." The first single will be a song called "Womanizer." Which...I feel like the jokes should write themselves here. And yet...I have nothing. I am oddly void and empty and...it's like I NO LONGER CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST.
How I know that I'm a Twilight Mom: I stayed up way past my bedtime to watch the VMAs just to see the actor who is going to play that vampire in the movie adaptation of THAT BOOK. And I squeeed when he appeared. And then I maybe peed a little.
How I know that I am not alone:
So maybe Britney will be performing. Aaaaand maybe not. Who knows? But either way we'll be here to turn that mutha out with you, tomorrow night tonight, Sunday September 7th.
Join us here on MamaPop starting at 8:30 PM ET tomorrow evening tonight for a little red carpet snarking ackshon, with the official Britney opening whatever-the-hell-it-is commencing at 9pm sharp.
For the record, I'll be drinking wine and Vitamin Water (separately but simultaneously) (I may be dumb but I'm not stupid) while open thread chatting with you and MamaPop's own Amalah, HeatherB, Kdiddy, Snarky Amber, Miss Banshee, Schmutzie, and all the fabutastic MamaPop crew. JOIN US, BETCHES.
Hope to see you all then. Wear your comfiest PJs and tell your friends, yo!
MAMAPOP IS SMART POP CULTURE ANALYSIS, COMMENTARY, MERCILESS FUN-MAKING AND OTHER SUNDRY AWESOME, DISHED UP DAILY BY PARENTS, FOR PARENTS, AND ANYONE ELSE WHO UNDERSTANDS THAT PLAYTIME IS BETTER WITH VODKA. PLEASE TO ENJOY. READ MORE...
