Just saw Stephen's post about a new sculpture imagining Andy Warhol at 83. Here's another take by Ron English. Think Andy might have preferred this one?
It's not that candy porn is a particularly original pop strategy. Madonna with Hard Candy and 50 Cent with "Candy Shop" have both used it effectively. But last night Katy Perry carried it to staggering and saccharine heights with a show that left the audience in a state of sugar shock and awe.
Less of a sous chef
than an insouciant one, she has whipped adolescent sex into Stay-Puft
fluff. It may not be healthy, but it sure sells: "gimme, gimme s'mores." It's cute and creepy as evidenced in lines like "I wanna see your peacock." And never more so than when the perky poptrix mounted what was supposed to be a giant cotton candy cloud to fly over the heads of the audience. It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's a giant flying sphincter.
And there was more to come as the show ground to its
obligatory climax with a giant ejaculation of foam followed by a
blizzard of confetti that left us all like half-baked cupcakes
spatttered in frosting and covered in sprinkles.
I wanted to hate it, but loved every minute. I was no less a kidult than everyone else there. Still, there oughta be a
law against this kind of cupcakery.
This Mel Ramos pop art painting is the only possible illustration for this story of prostitution at a Dunkin Donuts.
"Police say there was more on the menu than lattes and a dozen glazed during the late shift at a Dunkin Donuts in northern New Jersey.
A 29-year-old female is facing prostitution charges after police say she took breaks to provide sex in exchange for money".
Love that the police called their undercover operation 'Extra Sugar'.
What do Eartha Kitt, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Tallulah Bankhead, Joan Collins, Bruce Lee, Ida Lupino, Shelley Winters, Vincent Price, Roddy McDowell, Ethel Merman, Otto Preminger, and Anne Baxter all have in common?
They were all in Batman. The fun, '60s version, and – in my book – the only true version. Raised on this outrageous and iconoclastic series, I've never really gone for any of the pseudo-noir modern iterations.
When I posted this there was no sign of Harry Potter in the line-up. But as Niall O'Conghaile pointed out, perhaps it's Tom Watson, the MP who has been pushing the story for a long time.
But wait, there's more! Here's a fascinating insight into the way Bellatrix Lestrange ran News of the World:
"At Rupert Murdoch's tabloids, refusing to play ball meant being pushed to the sidelines. One reporter who said he went through that was Charles Begley, News of the World's Harry Potter correspondent in 2001 when Brooks was its editor.
The then 29-year-old reporter said he wore a Harry Potter costume to work and officially changed his name to that of the fictional boy wizard, all part of the paper's attempt to tap into the Pottermania sweeping both sides of the Atlantic. On Sept. 11, hours after the fall of the twin towers, Begley was stunned to be chewed out by News of the World management for not wearing his costume. He said he was then ordered to attend the next news meeting in full Potter regalia.
Shaken by the demand, Begley never showed up, and soon afterward parted ways with the paper."
Read more horrot stories about the NOTW culture on HuffPo and the full Harry Potter fiasco explained in The Guardian
Calves, actually. Anywho, this snippet of genius Gaultier design seems appropiate to mark Strauss Kahn's imminent release. This time perhaps he will be on the plane as it heads down the runway to France.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named played by himself, Bellatrix Lestrange by Rebekah Brooks, Hermione Granger by Lis Murdoch, and Severus Snape played by Les Hinton. Minute-by-minute live blog coverage at The Guardian. It's completely gripping.
There is an interesting article by Peter Knegt in Indiewire arguing that, based on yesterday's nominations, the Emmys closely resemble the Spirit Awards.
Have always felt the differences
between the big screen and the small screen are less than the
similarities. Especially so when it comes to unscripted, since theatrical docs and reality television are really only all about storytelling. And with all the different genres, hyrbids, and channels and the platforms to show them on, this really is a golden age of documentary.
In the recent past, how your work was distributed defined its cultural status, with the theatrical play and accompanying New York Times review considered to be the tippy top. But now that's just one of the many options on an exciting menu of possibilities. It's a good thing.
