but did it behind my back, anyways.
Lindsey Lohan: You really shouldn't be on this list because I can only care about one set famous twins, and the Olsens have held that slot since 1995, when I started watching Full House. And I KNOW that you claim to be one person, what with the alleged camera tricks in The Parent Trap. But you're not fooling me. You can't Royal Flush yourself in poker. You can't fence with yourself. You can't cut your own hair with your eyes closed while moaning about your hair in a "fake" British accent. You're hiding a twin, and it's that twin who has tanned herself into a booby (adj) carrot who spends her nights going clubbing with Madonna and getting arrested for driving drunk.
Lizzie McGuire: (less commonly known as Hillary Duff) No! You're dating a hockey player with no teeth? You had a threesome in Gossip Girl? You make jokes about not having gone to college with George Lopez on his talk show? George Lopez has a talkshow? No no no this is all wrong. You are supposed get married to Gordo and have hacky-sack-loving babies. You are supposed to continue wearing sequined jeans and butterfly clips. What's the point of ANYTHING if sequins and butterfly clips aren't cool anymore?
Mary-KateAndAshley Olsen: I'll never forget the day I saw half of you on the cover of People magazine for anorexia. I'll never forget it because, what the heck, why didn't Ashley have anorexia, too? Just because you are both a little taller and hotter than your detective super-sleuthing days doesn't mean that you can suddenly have separate lives. This completely shameless disregard for the principles of twindom shakes me at the core. When Mary-Kate dropped out of NYU, Ashley followed. When Ashley became CEO of Dualstar, so did Mary-Kate. There's no "I" in Olsen.
Dora The Explorer: It's understandable that after 9 years of Nick Jr. stardom, you might want to ditch the M-shaped hair, the tubby tummy and the talking backpack. And the velcro-strap shoes, because it doesn't matter how old you get, shoelaces will never be fun. But why would you want to be a tween? Why? You'll never be cool enough, not even with your matching purple headband/belt/leggings. All the other girls will start shaving before you, leaving you to wallow in hairy misery during P.E. School dances won't be that bad if you have a literal circle of friends to hang out with, but once Enrique Iglesias starts singing "Hero", you'll only have a few seconds to find some spiky-haired boy to slow dance with before you lose all desirability.
0:04 ( slow guitar) - everyone has recognized the slow song
0:08 ('Let me be your hero..') - circle of friends disperses, you scan the room for people on your buddy list
0:13 ('Would you dance..) - you start walking faster, people are already pairing off
0:16 ('..if I asked you to dance?..) - hey look! there's-wait they just got asked. Over there- dangit they just asked someone else. If I sprint across the room I could ask- crap they just got asked.
0:23 ('Would you run, and never look back?..) - you look around frantically for loners looking around frantically
0:29 ('Would you cry if you saw me crying?..)- oh Lord, even Doug Lee is dancing with someone already
0:35 ('..or would you save my soul tonight?) - whatever, you've really had to pee anyways. There's nothing wrong with staying in the bathroom for the next 3 minutes and 46 seconds.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
I'm s!ck.
See, the artist formerly known as Pink isn't the only one who can make punctuation part of the alphabet! All it takes is a little wah-I'm-not-Britney-because-I-have-a-dykey-haircut-and-a-man-voice angst. Which I don't have. I have a sore throat and the irresistable urge to loop my Britney playlist.
An In Depth Comparative Analysis of Britney Spears vs P!nk (Pink) songs
1.
a) Don't Let Me Get Me : Pink is a failure who hates herself.
b) Lucky : Britney's alter ego constantly fakes happiness and perfection for the sake of her adoring fans, but on the inside she's a victim of fame who cry cry cries in her lonely heart.
Winner: Um, I'm pretty sure that I'd secretly cry in the car (JUST LIKE BRITNEY) every time Lucky came on Radio Disney. It's heartwarming, heartbreaking, and catchy, aka it's wonderful.
2.
a) Family Portrait : Wahwah dysfuntional family. A kid's chorus? "Your pain is painful"? This is the radio, not a Lifetime movie, P!nk.
b) Toxic : Whooooa wait wait, can Britney get any edgier? I can't even tell what she says in this song because it sounds like a bunch of squeaky dolphin sounds, but it's got to be good because she's wearing a glitter suit in the music video.
Winner: Dolpin squeaks aside, I think it's clear where Stephanie Meyer got her inspiration for sparkly vampire skin. Which should automatically make P!nk the winner this one, but the fact that Karen Kennedy, Mormonest Mormon on the face of the earth, had Toxic as her ringtone makes Britney the winner.
3.
a) Who Knew : It took me approx. 1.5 years to realize that this was, in fact, P!nk, and not Kelly Clarkson. The violins in the background made it really easy to believe so.
b) Hit Me, Baby (One More Time) : This song was revolutionary because Britney made lame things super-sexy. Eraser pencil tops? Sexy. Pigtails? Sexy. P.E.? Sexxxxxxxy.
Winner: Well, Kelly doesn't actully sing Who Knew, and even if she did, Kelly can't do a back handspring while singing "Oh pretty baby there's nothing that I wouldn't do." BRITNEY IT IS!
In conclusion, Paulina Lopez will have good days and sore throat days, but no matter what, Britney Spears will always be there for her, in sickness or in health. Even if she doesn't show up on the Facebook Music Info.
P.S. OHMYGOSH!!!
An In Depth Comparative Analysis of Britney Spears vs P!nk (Pink) songs
1.
a) Don't Let Me Get Me : Pink is a failure who hates herself.
b) Lucky : Britney's alter ego constantly fakes happiness and perfection for the sake of her adoring fans, but on the inside she's a victim of fame who cry cry cries in her lonely heart.
Winner: Um, I'm pretty sure that I'd secretly cry in the car (JUST LIKE BRITNEY) every time Lucky came on Radio Disney. It's heartwarming, heartbreaking, and catchy, aka it's wonderful.
2.
a) Family Portrait : Wahwah dysfuntional family. A kid's chorus? "Your pain is painful"? This is the radio, not a Lifetime movie, P!nk.
b) Toxic : Whooooa wait wait, can Britney get any edgier? I can't even tell what she says in this song because it sounds like a bunch of squeaky dolphin sounds, but it's got to be good because she's wearing a glitter suit in the music video.
Winner: Dolpin squeaks aside, I think it's clear where Stephanie Meyer got her inspiration for sparkly vampire skin. Which should automatically make P!nk the winner this one, but the fact that Karen Kennedy, Mormonest Mormon on the face of the earth, had Toxic as her ringtone makes Britney the winner.
3.
a) Who Knew : It took me approx. 1.5 years to realize that this was, in fact, P!nk, and not Kelly Clarkson. The violins in the background made it really easy to believe so.
b) Hit Me, Baby (One More Time) : This song was revolutionary because Britney made lame things super-sexy. Eraser pencil tops? Sexy. Pigtails? Sexy. P.E.? Sexxxxxxxy.
Winner: Well, Kelly doesn't actully sing Who Knew, and even if she did, Kelly can't do a back handspring while singing "Oh pretty baby there's nothing that I wouldn't do." BRITNEY IT IS!
In conclusion, Paulina Lopez will have good days and sore throat days, but no matter what, Britney Spears will always be there for her, in sickness or in health. Even if she doesn't show up on the Facebook Music Info.
P.S. OHMYGOSH!!!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
My Kid Could Paint That, Too
(as in "two".. hahahahahaha get it?)
Last week, I could've picked between studying for finals or watching My Kid Could Paint That. A High Five Fantastic Time's reaction to Bar-Lev's 2007 doc (though it was mostly a reaction to the reactions from the art majors in her class) had gotten me pretty curious.. Needless to say, I know very little about the French conditional and future perfect tenses, as will undoubtedly show up on my final grade.
It's been a few days since I watched the film, so some of the initial excitement/anger/ frustration provoked by the doc has died down a little bit. But the fact that something other than Glee could have provoked such an explosion of emotion is enough to prove that watching that film was soooooo worth watching my chances at an A in FREN103 poof into oblivion.
My Kid Could Paint That
1. Marla vs Dad. In Courtney's blog, she writes that the film proves that 4-year old Marla was responsible for her paintings. Although the doc includes footage of Marla completing a painting on her own, this footage is used to show how unlikely it is that Marla is the sole artist of her work. Bar-Lev compares the painting Marla completed in front of a camera to those that were previously exhibited in galleries and sold for thousands of dollars, and the message is pretty clear; the former looks nothing like the others in the collection in terms of composition, in terms of color palette, in terms of how the brush was used, in terms of overall aesthetics. By the time the documentary gets to this footage of Marla's 100% pure handiwork, Bar-Lev isn't redeeming the Olmstead's stained reputation by proving that Marla is "the real artist". He's materializing his doubts about the family's honesty and gouging your eyes with them. He also documents the doubts expressed by once-loyal Marla art collectors, who swear over their Hummer and all their grandkids' trust funds that "Ocean" (the redeeming footage painting) looks like it's done by a completely different artist than the one who made "Ode to Pollock" and "Asian Sunrise".
The point is, My Kid doesn't at all prove who was responsible for the all of famous Marla paintings. It proves that when placed in front of a camera and told to act natural, Marla painted "Ocean" without anyone's help. It showed how eager she was to finish the painting and go to some room not filled with documentary equipment, probably to finish a puzzle or make fun of her younger brother (who has these artsy SHENANIGANS* to blame for his inferiority complex). It showed that "Ocean", the only painting we knew to be 100% Marla's handiwork, could be interpreted as being completely different than any of her other paintings.
2. Doc about a Doc. Whether the Marla Vs. Dad question is answered isn't ever the point of the documentary, because Bar-Lev's film is a documentary about documentaries. Half an hour into the film, there's a creepy confessions session during Bar-Lev's car ride back home where he basically spills that:
- He doesn't know whether to believe that Marla's work is genuine anymore
- He wants to believe her family because they've been so nice and whatnot
- Is it bad to pretend he believes them to their faces in order to remain on good terms and finish his film?
-??????????//?/
The story develops around the notion that no one can measure anything without altering the results (PHYSICS FOR POETS**), and that any story is only a compilation of true/false. Should we expect anyone to perform 100% normally in front of a camera, let alone a 4-year-old? Etc.
3. moving on. Going back to a comment from Courtney's post: "[The people in Courtney's class] argued that because the girl was a 4 year old that it wasn't real art and that she shouldn't be selling paintings for thousands of dollars. It mocks what real artists try to achieve and struggle with."
The comment addresses some major points: a. what constitutes Real Art, b. the ethics of art marketing,
b. It's completely reasonable to be outraged by the fact that Marla recieved the recognition she did, because the fact is that all the recognition didn't have as much to do with the quality of the paintings as it did with the fact that she was four years old. If Marla had finished those same paintings when she was 23, she would probably be living off Ramen in a bathroomless studio. And I have the right to be outraged about that because there's no way I can justify that Marla's talent at 4 years old consitutes her as a modern art prodigy. Even when comparing "Ocean" to her "more polished works", the canvases generally look like accidents, some more aesthetically pleasing than others. This ties us back to point a.
a. Another interpretation of My Kid: It isn't just the marketing of oblivious 4-year olds that mocks what 'real artists' try to achieve, but the fact that work done by oblivious 4-year-olds could even pass as art. Because a piece like "Ocean" looks like it could've been done by an oblivious 4-year-old, or a Modern Art major, or a homeless war vet, or a hamster on steroids, or a blender. I'm not yet at a point in my career as an ObsDraw graduate where I can appreciate something like "Ode to Pollock" or Andy Warhol's soup cans as much as I can appreciate Degas' dancers. I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was charged $12 to see Penis Hat at the New York Museum of Modern Art. Is it wrong to be bitter about this? Penis Hat looks like it was inspired and completed by a drunk Jace Rustan. Who cares. It's 2:33 am and I can't fall asleep and I'm bitter. Suck it, 21st century Modern Art. Oh gosh that ties back to Penis Hat, and I'm so mad/tired I'm not even going to hit the backspace key. 12 effing dollars.
Last week, I could've picked between studying for finals or watching My Kid Could Paint That. A High Five Fantastic Time's reaction to Bar-Lev's 2007 doc (though it was mostly a reaction to the reactions from the art majors in her class) had gotten me pretty curious.. Needless to say, I know very little about the French conditional and future perfect tenses, as will undoubtedly show up on my final grade.
It's been a few days since I watched the film, so some of the initial excitement/anger/ frustration provoked by the doc has died down a little bit. But the fact that something other than Glee could have provoked such an explosion of emotion is enough to prove that watching that film was soooooo worth watching my chances at an A in FREN103 poof into oblivion.
My Kid Could Paint That
1. Marla vs Dad. In Courtney's blog, she writes that the film proves that 4-year old Marla was responsible for her paintings. Although the doc includes footage of Marla completing a painting on her own, this footage is used to show how unlikely it is that Marla is the sole artist of her work. Bar-Lev compares the painting Marla completed in front of a camera to those that were previously exhibited in galleries and sold for thousands of dollars, and the message is pretty clear; the former looks nothing like the others in the collection in terms of composition, in terms of color palette, in terms of how the brush was used, in terms of overall aesthetics. By the time the documentary gets to this footage of Marla's 100% pure handiwork, Bar-Lev isn't redeeming the Olmstead's stained reputation by proving that Marla is "the real artist". He's materializing his doubts about the family's honesty and gouging your eyes with them. He also documents the doubts expressed by once-loyal Marla art collectors, who swear over their Hummer and all their grandkids' trust funds that "Ocean" (the redeeming footage painting) looks like it's done by a completely different artist than the one who made "Ode to Pollock" and "Asian Sunrise".
The point is, My Kid doesn't at all prove who was responsible for the all of famous Marla paintings. It proves that when placed in front of a camera and told to act natural, Marla painted "Ocean" without anyone's help. It showed how eager she was to finish the painting and go to some room not filled with documentary equipment, probably to finish a puzzle or make fun of her younger brother (who has these artsy SHENANIGANS* to blame for his inferiority complex). It showed that "Ocean", the only painting we knew to be 100% Marla's handiwork, could be interpreted as being completely different than any of her other paintings.
2. Doc about a Doc. Whether the Marla Vs. Dad question is answered isn't ever the point of the documentary, because Bar-Lev's film is a documentary about documentaries. Half an hour into the film, there's a creepy confessions session during Bar-Lev's car ride back home where he basically spills that:
- He doesn't know whether to believe that Marla's work is genuine anymore
- He wants to believe her family because they've been so nice and whatnot
- Is it bad to pretend he believes them to their faces in order to remain on good terms and finish his film?
-??????????//?/
The story develops around the notion that no one can measure anything without altering the results (PHYSICS FOR POETS**), and that any story is only a compilation of true/false. Should we expect anyone to perform 100% normally in front of a camera, let alone a 4-year-old? Etc.
3. moving on. Going back to a comment from Courtney's post: "[The people in Courtney's class] argued that because the girl was a 4 year old that it wasn't real art and that she shouldn't be selling paintings for thousands of dollars. It mocks what real artists try to achieve and struggle with."
The comment addresses some major points: a. what constitutes Real Art, b. the ethics of art marketing,
b. It's completely reasonable to be outraged by the fact that Marla recieved the recognition she did, because the fact is that all the recognition didn't have as much to do with the quality of the paintings as it did with the fact that she was four years old. If Marla had finished those same paintings when she was 23, she would probably be living off Ramen in a bathroomless studio. And I have the right to be outraged about that because there's no way I can justify that Marla's talent at 4 years old consitutes her as a modern art prodigy. Even when comparing "Ocean" to her "more polished works", the canvases generally look like accidents, some more aesthetically pleasing than others. This ties us back to point a.
a. Another interpretation of My Kid: It isn't just the marketing of oblivious 4-year olds that mocks what 'real artists' try to achieve, but the fact that work done by oblivious 4-year-olds could even pass as art. Because a piece like "Ocean" looks like it could've been done by an oblivious 4-year-old, or a Modern Art major, or a homeless war vet, or a hamster on steroids, or a blender. I'm not yet at a point in my career as an ObsDraw graduate where I can appreciate something like "Ode to Pollock" or Andy Warhol's soup cans as much as I can appreciate Degas' dancers. I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was charged $12 to see Penis Hat at the New York Museum of Modern Art. Is it wrong to be bitter about this? Penis Hat looks like it was inspired and completed by a drunk Jace Rustan. Who cares. It's 2:33 am and I can't fall asleep and I'm bitter. Suck it, 21st century Modern Art. Oh gosh that ties back to Penis Hat, and I'm so mad/tired I'm not even going to hit the backspace key. 12 effing dollars.
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