Category: Pop Culture (page 2 of 4)


I’m immediately calling for a national cease-and-desist on the use of the term “Brokeback” in the following ways:

  • Adjective
    “Why is Fred Phelps watching the Brokeback Network?**”
  • Direct Object
    “I heard Tina is going Brokeback on us.”
  • Gerund
    Is it true that Tom Cruise was Brokebacking before he turned to Scientology?”

** Bravo


Roll Out the Barrel

The 48th Annual Grammy Awards airs tonight on CBS.Grammy Award

Yeah, I don’t care either. If you continue to insist on not watching Veronica Mars instead (as most of you stubbornly continue to do) keep your eye out for the winner of one of the most important categories in the Grammy-verse: Best Polka Album.

Can Jimmy Sturr And His Orchestra continue their Grammy dominance, or is this the year young upstarts Eddie Blazonczyk and his Versatones finally break through?

I love any genre whose groupies consist mostly of 90 pound, 68 year-old, Lithuanian women who dance with one another on public access television.Some other random Grammy news & notes:

  1. Competing against one another in the Best Spoken Word Album category: Garrison Keillor, Al Franken, Sean Penn, Senator Barack Obama, and George Carlin. I see how it is. Now it’s crystal clear why the audiotape for The O’Reilly Factor for Kids didn’t get a nod.
  2. Best Comedy Album noms went to Larry the Cable Guy and the creator of the Family Guy. Bill Cosby must be rolling over in his grave… I’m sorry…what’s that…
  3. The “I’m Not Completely Out of Touch Yet Award” goes to… me, because I actually think I might have heard second-hand about one of the Best New Artist nominees. Fall Out Boy. I think they do a hybrid of Polka and Ska with a little gangsta rap mixed in. Jimmy Sturr better watch his back.


Someone Call Vincent Gambini

I guarantee is stems from all the pent up aggression resulting from the severe beatings he received at the hands of innocent little Kevin McAllister.


Even Better Than Baywatch Knights

The Internet. A breakthrough in technology that allows educators, businesses, and everyday people of the world equal access to communicate and collaborate in ways never even dreamed possible!

Or, if you prefer, a vessel for providing you the opportunity to wax David Hasselhoff’s chest hair.


Sorry, No Meds For You

So, because its all the rage these days is to peg all-American cult member Tom Cruise as “bat-shit insane” (a highly technical term) here’s how news editors stretch to frame stories to support this eyeball-catching theory. This is not to say I don’t think good ol’ Maverick is a little off his rocker these days. After the re-shuffle, a few cards have obviously fallen out of the deck if you know what I mean. I’m just trying to showcase the desperate craving we, as a society, have for entertainment news/dirt.

The title of this Reuters story is “Tom Cruise says he believes in aliens.”

You read that headline as constituted and you say to yourself, “Whoa, Tom has really dropped off the deep end. Not only did he drink the Kool-Aid, he opened up the ready-mix packets and poured them directly down into his gullet!”

When you actually read the story, which I’m sure only the most superficial of us do, you find out that he responded in such a way that suggests Tom believes that there is other life out in the universe, which I think, is a belief I think a whole lot of we non-crazy folk might actually share.

So in short, which is sexier:

Headline: Tom Cruise Believes Life Beyond Earth Likely
Implication: Who gives a crap? What are Brad and Angelina up to?

Headline: Tom Cruise Believes in Aliens
Implication: Movie star insists invasion from the war-like Meglonians from the Dreyborian Nebula is imminent and must be averted by tin-foiling strategically placed Krispy Kreme franchises.

All that being said, that guy is seriously messed up. Where is Pacey when you need him?


For Only 99 Cents Per Download You Can Feed a Hungry Child

For all you file swappers out there, just remember every time you illegally download “We Are The World,” it’s like snatching a piece of crusty old bread out of an emaciated Ehtiopian child’s hand.

And don’t even get me started on Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas.”

Sally Struthers is very, very, dissapointed in you.


A Hootie with Extra Cheese Hold the Mayo

A cautionary tale for all the budding pop and rock stars of the new millennium.

Sure, today your album may have just reached 16 time platinum status. Your record may even rank as one of the best debut albums of all-time. Your popularity at this time may be so great, major sports stars may be tripping over their sneaker laces to snag an appearance in your latest music video.

You’ll be so popular you won’t even have to try that hard to come up with an idea for said video. You can just drive around in a golf cart followed by a film crew documenting your amiable and folksy nature amidst your new jock buddies. People will love it.

You meteoric rise may be so bright and fiery that you could snag a Grammy, a People’s Choice trophy, and any number of those crappy music awards Dick Clark hands out, all within a six-month span.

All of this may come to pass, but be sure to put in the work to guarantee your second, third, and fourth albums don’t suck. If you waver in your commitment to your art, faster than a Dan Marino spiral hits a slant pattern, a decade later you could be hawking Burger King’s latest salad-dressing slathered fried chicken taste sensation on TV commercials, all the while wearing a purple sequin-covered western shirt and a ten-gallon hat.

Don’t think it couldn’t happen to you Usher.


Noah, I Am Your Father

For those last minute shoppers looking for the perfect holiday gift to bestow upon certain un-named web site owners, may I humbly suggest the Darth Vader Voice Changer Helmet.

That’s right, you too can sound just like the Dark Lord of the Sith (Or, depending on your preferences, Mufasa from the Lion King.)

I predict hours of witty repartee with my spouse will ensue:

“Commander, tear this house apart until you’ve found that remote! And bring me the Oreos, I want them alive!


“You underestimate the power of the Dark Side. If you will not handle Noah’s bath-time, then you will meet your destiny.”

Buy today! And don’t worry, my wife will thank you later.


Pieces of Me

Joe Simpson, proud papa and manager for both Ashlee and Jessica Simpson, recently described moody teen pop-rocker Ashlee’s nascent acting career thusly:

“She’s going to be a huge movie star. She’s like Meg Ryan or Cameron Diaz, with probably more depth. When we’re done, she’ll play it all.”

Yeah, I see her playing the Meryl Streep role in Sophie’s Choice, don’t you?

I suppose shooting for deeper roles than those chosen by Cameron Diaz (whose career pinnacle so far is a toss-up between memorably shaking her scantily-clad tookus in a remake of a cheesy 1970’s television show or mistaking a bodily fluid for hair gel) isn’t quite aiming for the stratosphere, but to be honest, who’s going to bet against her? She’s already spent the better part of the last year successfully playing the part of an actual singer.

And she would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling hippie kids and their curiously hungry dog.


Tommy Two-Tone

A modern day dilemma. My mobile phone company is currently offering both Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie and Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice as ring tone possibilities.

The separate ring tones, when broken down to their base elements (sans vocals,) are almost virtually identical to one another. Unfortunately, each speaks volumes to passerby about your level of ironic detachment (or lack thereof) from our pop-culture past.

I’ll probably just go with the CHiPs theme instead.

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