Everyone's a liar. It's unavoidable. Right? Of course, there are lies and there are LIES. At least, that's what we are told. Putting it that way makes it seem like there is some kind of clear distinction to be made, doesn't it? There isn't. People tell you growing up that there are "white lies" — things you say to make people feel better — and that those are A-OK lies, lies of kindness. And then there are the other kinds of lies, the bad kind, which are not OK. But even that's a lie!
You realize this after you grow up and go into the world, where you discover that the lies are way more nuanced and complicated than that. There are the lies of lovers, the lies of advertisers, the lies of businesses, the lies of your government, the lies of chronic liars. There are the lies of your religion, promising you things no one can possibly know for sure. The lies of the audience, drunk and wildly clapping at your shitty Skynyrd cover. Or the lies of etiquette columnists and ethicists, who advise us to not tell people we love small true things, like that we don't think their haircut is flattering, or big true things, like that we cheated on them or that their father is not really their father.
In fact, in a way, the very definition of being a good and nice person hinges entirely on being the biggest liar — in part. Obviously it's doing and being a good person, with good acts. But it's also often seen as being the least likely to say anything that would offend anyone (which often means something true/unpleasant), or the least likely to say anything that you actually think (which is often something true/unpleasant). The reason we don't talk about religion and politics at the dinner table is that it shows our biases. Meaning, it's us being who we really are, saying what we actually think. That simply won't do.
Pretty much all of etiquette dictates that we smooth out our roughest edges, and never make our guests feel uncomfortable, which apparently either the truth or the lack of a fresh beverage will accomplish in equal parts.
And while obviously there's some amount of social fabric lying needed here to get through our existence — you can't live every moment like you're dying — at some point, there's also an ick factor. A falseness to the falseness that rings too false to put up with. Somewhere in the muck of puffing ourselves up there has to be some kind of deflating moment of reckoning. (No wonder we refer to brilliant assertions of unvarnished reality as "truth bombs.")
But this affection for the softer, nicer version of things is in our DNA. In a new study of the cooperative behavior of monkeys and apes, researchers found that animals are full of shit, too. They lie to eat, to hook up, and to form alliances. JUST LIKE US:
'Ultimately, our ability to convincingly lie to each other may have evolved as a direct result of our cooperative nature,' the researchers claim - and they say deception is still 'rife' in the animal kingdom.
They found evidence in 24 primate species that lying is more likely among animals who cooperate more, meaning it's a necessary component of being able to get along. But not just monkeys.
'It occurs in some spiders where males give worthless nuptial gifts to potential mates.' said McNally.
'It can occur in bacteria where they over-produce signals to elicit co-operation from others.
'It's even been shown to evolve in robots.'
'Our theory suggests that co-operation probably evolves before deception, but deception will follow hot on its heels.'
So, basically, to know people is to absolutely have to fucking lie to them — a lot.
But if it's so pervasive and apparently necessary, what's the big deal? Why don't we just embrace our lies and stop being such liars about lying, and own our shit? Lies are the social fabric of our lying lives! Why bother even trying to say something true?
Because we need some shit to be true. We are humans with lies in our DNA, but we also have survival and breeding on our minds. For us to really survive we have to get the things we think we are getting. And there is not a more lie-rich obstacle course for most of us than in our attempts at surviving via romance.
Cue false signals. That's when someone spends a bunch of money on your date to imprint the notion that they are loaded, when in reality they are maxed out to the gills in debt. If they're just trying to get laid, it may take for a night. But the moment you see their house, their car, their bank statement, the jig is going to be up eventually, and then what?
In a book about mating deception discussed at the Atlantic, Anna Broadway looks at the implications of our lies to lure a mate. She cites the Chinese man who successfully sued his wife when he found out she wasn't as naturally pretty as she appeared, but owed her good looks to plastic surgery. To him, this amounted to a false bill of sale — particularly when he laid eyes on his newborn daughter and found her "ugly."
That's an extreme example, but in fairness, complete and utter deception of the more "benign" kind — lying about education, salary, Botox — is perfectly acceptable according to scores of advice books that posit to men and women how to feign an entire mystery, intrigue, personality, busyness that you don't really possess, all to look appealing to your intended.
According to the authors, it's the desire to appear well off that's far more pernicious than any of that.
Geher and Kaufman argue in their book Mating Intelligence Unleashed that some of the greatest damage from mating deceptions, both individually and communally, comes from the status-enhancement of overspending.
So when we see someone whip out the cash and make it rain, we see them as generous, kind, and obviously, someone with money — all good things to look for in someone you might want to stick around, or especially raise a family with. But it's an unreliable indicator, and our desire to greenlight a potential partner via these early, tenuous symbols of wealth is fool's errand.
For both women and men pursuing long-term mating strategies, a potential partner's character, personality, and social status carry significant weight. None of these can be measured objectively, of course, status in particular. Lacking a modern-day version of Debrett's (the English guide to aristocrat's ancestry), we tend to judge others' status partly by their stuff. But that's not the only impact of casually wielding a brand-new iPad or Prada bag.
"In making social judgments of others, we infer all kinds of things from people's belongings," Geher and Kaufman write. "We infer personality traits, social status, familial background, and intelligence levels, and ultimately... we unconsciously infer genetic quality."
We do this with good looks, too. It's called the "halo effect," where you assign positive traits that you have zero proof of, like kindness or intelligence, to someone who happens to be more symmetrical.
How's this for symmetry? In a 2008 study cited in the piece, the authors mention a correlation found between debt and sexual partners, at least for men. More likely to splurge with money you don't have = more likely to fuck a lot of people. Whew, and to think I was worried reality was exactly the opposite of perception.
Of course, Broadway points out that in the book, nearly all the faux-riche posturing was done by men. But that makes sense in a world where we value men for their jobs/incomes. I would guess that the women are the ones more likely to lie about their age or cosmetic alterations.
If you're feeling very depressed now and thinking of charging up a bunch of booze on your credit card to look rich and avoid thinking about how none of us has any idea what's actually true, remember that, where there are lies, there are also lie detectors, AKA, people who are good at calling bullshit. And the authors think that this is our best remedy to the steady stream of manure we call trying to mate and ensure our genes live on by wearing good jeans.
"[H]igh levels of mating intelligence should go a long way in helping people tease apart genuine from false courtship signals," they write.
But if that doesn't work, there's a hilarious Chris Rock bit that sheds some insight. "When you meet someone for the first time, you're not meeting them," he declares. "You're meeting their representative." Ain't that the truth.
The Law on Elimination of Violence Against Women, a 2009 mandate approved by President Hamid Karzai's decree that aims to protect women's rights — specifically, one that bans child marriage and the practice of "baad," selling and buying women to settle disputes — was shot down in Afghani Parliament today.
The more religious and conservative members objected to at least eight of the "secular" articles in the legislation, objecting that they violated Islamic principles and would encourage female disobedience. Under the Quran, a husband may beat his wife as a last resort as long as she is not "permanently harmed" (Karzai, known for vacillating on women's rights issues, actually put this rule in a code of conduct issued by clerics in 2012), so the more religious Parliament representatives were opposed to giving the man a one- to three-year prison sentence.
Other objectionable issues were keeping the legal age of marriage age to 16, halving the number of wives permitted to 2 and building shelters for abused women.
One of the conservative MPs suggested that the removal of prosecuting raped women for adultery would lead to more extramarital sex, with women claiming they had been raped to escape punishment: "Adultery itself is a crime in Islam, whether it is by force or not."
Fawzia Koofi, the extremely disappointed head of Parliament's women's commission, said: "Today, the parliamentarians who oppose women's development, women's rights and the success of women... made their voices loud and clear. 2014 is coming, change is coming, and the future of women in this country is uncertain."
Image via Getty
As all different kinds of boundary-breaking female characters shoehorn their way onto TV these last few years, much has been written about Breaking Bad's "Skyler White Effect," the knee-jerk hatred of male anti-heroes' wives. Somehow, Skyler garners more fan hatred than the brilliant, evil meth cook and murderer she's married (who, it's strongly implied, rapes her, by the way) to because she's "such a bitch."
But there are still certain demographics of women who are barely on TV at all; the good news is, that a think tank run by Geena Davis that studies women in the media found that 44.3% of women characters in prime-time television had jobs, close to the real-life figure of 46.7% (the breadwinning in children's entertainment, meanwhile, was done by men 81% of the time).
The bad news is — as Jennifer Newsom, the director of the 2011 documentary Miss Representation points out — while 60% of working women are working mothers, hardly any of the televised career women have kids, because people still feel weird about women not staying home to take care of their progeny. Newsom asked a TV exec why this might be. "Well, you know, our focus study group, they weren't comfortable with the mother [character] working so hard and blah, blah, blah."
Additionally, says Newsom, "Forty and older are actually 47 percent of our population here in the U.S., yet only 26 percent of women on TV."
Another category that, unsurprisingly, garners resistance: female anti-heroes. FX president John Landgraf greenlit the Glenn Close-starring law drama Damages as well as the short-lived Dirt, in which a morally ambiguous character played by Courteney Cox runs a tabloid. Damages has done well, but neither have the fanbase that Breaking Bad has.Landgraf: "And it's fascinating to me. that we just have really different, and I think, a more rigorous set of standards for female characters than we do for male characters in this society. It's much harder to buy acceptance of a female anti-hero."
Nurse Jackie is one exception to all of these: the protagonist is an over-40 working mom as well as an anti-hero, played by Edie Falco (whose Carmela Soprano was definitely a pre-cursor to the Skyler White Effect). If there's one, there will be more, hopefully!
I don't think I'd be super off-base if I said that Greta Gerwig was the closest thing our generation has to old-school Diane Keaton; she's flighty and light on-screen, but there's melancholy and intelligence behind it. Her new movie Frances Ha, which she co-wrote with director (and boyfriend) Noah Baumbach, has been touted as the intersection of Girls, Woody Allen and mumblecore. It's received positive reviews.
She spoke to Hollywood.com about the film, as well as the snarky media hubbub that often surrounds indie-hearted female-driven movies and TV:
"I just re-read Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own, and I think that people get really angry when it's women doing it, to be totally honest. There's something that feels threatening about it and they have to be doing something other than being thoughtful. It has to be somehow an exercise in narcissism, because why else would you make anything about women? I think that the violence of the reaction has more to do with something that's not to do with the art."
Gerwig says that if she was left in a room of her own, she may not have written the movie at all.
"He's a man in his 40s and I'm a woman in her 20s, but I feel like, in a way, I wouldn't have written this unless I was writing it with him," she says. "It felt like he almost gave me permission to tell my story. Or, not my story, but the story of this woman. Because it validated it, because it was outside eyes.
I think if I were left alone I wouldn't have the courage to say, 'I'm going to tell the story of a 27-year-old dancer and her best friend and their money troubles.' That wouldn't feel like enough of a story for me, and it was the fact that he said, 'Oh, I think this can be really good, and I have a lot of empathy for this.' That allowed me to feel more magnanimous towards my generation than I might be otherwise, because I can be just as critical as anyone else."
That's a shame.
Image via Getty
The unaired episodes of Don't Trust The B- In Apartment 23 are now available to stream on ABC's website. And also Hulu! (Thanks, commenters.)
This asshole bird named the Steller's jay keeps eating the eggs of the endangered murrelet. Scientists are intervening by planting fake murrelet eggs with a chemical that immediately induces vomiting, hoping for a Pavlovian response. (Pavlov's birds!)
Nothing speaks for the zeitgeist more than pastries, and there’s always been a vaguely “This is what will make you a Lady at last!!!11” air about them: The Great Cupcake Craze of 2005, for instance, when you may as well have been an asexual cave-dweller until you paid $50 for a single treat at Magnolia. Then the Great Pinkberry Craze of 2007, which Girls’ Shoshanna would probably still be Tweeting about. The entire concept of "sad girl eating Ben & Jerry's."
What I'm trying to say is, we're eating sugary facsimiles of our vaginas.
Recently, a new confection has sauntered, John Wayne-like, up to the pastry saloon. It’s called a cronut: half croissant, half donut, all sexual. It’s also non-gendered (so far – although all it takes is one well-placed shot on, say, The Mindy Project to ruin that for us). "Are Cronuts the New Cupcake?" asks a Daily Mail headline. PLEASE NO. LET THIS NOT BE. Because, trust me, they'll stop tasting as good once pop culture starts telling you that you're only a "real girl" when you eat one in a bubble bath to a melancholy Passion Pit song. Stop ruining sweets for me, world. There is so little that gives me pleasure.
Within 35 minutes of premiering at the Dominique Ansel Bakery last Friday, the cronut was sold out. New York collectively pissed themselves because we're spoiled assholes.
It is not okay to flip off our baristas because we are out of cronuts. Wtf!— Dominique Ansel (@DominiqueAnsel) May 15, 2013
@firstwefeast One woman legitimately cried...we felt so bad, we looked everywhere to find her the last remaining cronut.— Dominique Ansel (@DominiqueAnsel) May 15, 2013
Here is the line as of this morning.May 18, 2013
I thought there was already a half-donut half-croissant, and it was called a cruller, but I'm clearly a neophyte. Don't judge.
There was only one thing to do. I would go see God in the hole of a cronut. I even had a speech all prepared in case the cronut wizards gave me any trouble. Hello! Oh, no, are you sold out? I don’t mean to be one of those people, but I write things, very important things about extremely serious issues, for the Internet. You might know my work, my name is Paul Auster.
They were sold out. This is what actually happened.
HARRIED DOMINIQUE ANSEL EMPLOYEE
"Sorry, they're sold out."
[Actively considering purchasing donut and croisssant and layering them on top of each other]
"Oh. Balls. Really? Oh.... oh, but, okay."
Fortunately, there is a support group, Cronut.org, for people like me. But shh. Let's keep cronuts a secret. Just you and me.
The probably-pregnant Beyoncé just put a bunch of gorgeous pictures from her Havana vacation on her Tumblr, in case you didn't feel like your life was horrid and un-cinematic before. This one is my very favorite.
Psst: Rumor has it that the Beybey will be named Havana. (By that logic, my baby will be named Scuzzy Timeshare In South Beach.)
Disney's remained mum amidst the controversy surrounding the princess-ier "makeover" of Merida from Brave, followed by their subsequent backtrack and quiet return to the original character design on the official princess website.
However, a Babble post by Catherine Connors, blogger and editor in chief of Disney Interactive Family, defends Disney's "coronation outfit" for Merida's induction as the 11th princess. She says it's just the old character design, except "gussied up," and people have worked themselves into a frenzy over a few pieces of concept art and a whole lot of conjecture.
First, because the original Merida hasn’t, actually, been made over: there are a few pieces of iterative artwork out there that were created for the purpose of celebrating her coronation, but these are fancified depictions of Merida, not a new Merida (who in any case is defined by far more important things than what she wears.)
Of course, Connors doesn't mention the apparent Lap Band surgery Merida was given — perhaps the most problematic design decision.
She adds that Disney princesses are meant to have iterations and different personas through clothing: "My daughter is a princess iteration specialist of the highest order: her Cinderellas are astronauts; her Belles are teachers; her Rapunzels are circus performers [...] And as they live and breathe and play and change their clothes, they remain who they are, because who they are is not what they look like."
That image doesn’t represent a ‘new’ Merida replacing an ‘old’ Merida: it’s just another iteration of Merida, who is much, much more than just red curls and a green dress. The gussied up Merida on the coronation invitation is Merida gussied up for one of the most important events of her princess career. That she’s a little more sparkly for the party is not a heresy against her independent and spirited self – I consider myself independent and spirited, and I wore the sparkliest gown that I could find when I got married, because of course I did.
It's nicely written, and Connors makes her point, but still feels like damage control more than anything.
"I want a Stark in the streets and a wildling in the sheets" is the new "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love."
Some of us go to third base on the stained futon our older brother gave us when he moved to Thailand. Others, like this Game of Boners fan in new Orleans, has an actual Iron Throne to fuck her King of the North on. (Incidentally, that'll run you $30,000. I sense that Internet Daenyris just spent the last of her slip-and-fall lawsuit money.)
Just remember: You'd get 1000% more head if you went with Jon Snow.
Ladies and their favorite celebrities, amiright? If Connie Britton jumped off a bridge, wouldn't you? If Cate Blanchett ran down Seventh Avenue in a duck suit yelling about the End of Days, hand me my beak!
H. Gilbert Welch, a professor of medicine at the Dartmouth Institute for Health Policy and Clinical Practice and a co-author of Overdiagnosed: Making People Sick in the Pursuit of Health, is worried that perfectly healthy women will undergo preventative mastectomies because Angelina Jolie had one. "I hope I'm positive for the BRCA1 gene!" exclaim all women, everywhere. "Then I can land a guy like Brad Pitt!"
The vast majority of women don't have BRCA1. They are at average risk for breast cancer. They are not Angelina Jolie. They should not have a preventive mastectomy.
Which is totally legitimate and fine, and also has been studied and confirmed, if Welch just stopped there. He doesn't. He argues against getting the $3,000 BRCA1 screening test in the first place: your family history of cancer is a good enough indication of how at-risk you are: "Population-wide screening raises complex issues. We would want to know more about how often the test is wrong, particularly how often the test is falsely positive. That's important because women falsely diagnosed as a mutation carrier might undergo prophylactic mastectomy unnecessarily. Then there are the psychological effects, not only for the patient but also for her siblings and offspring."
Go figure! That's why Cath Gilroy, the Manchester woman diagnosed — along with her daughter and sister — with the BRCA2 gene, had to nag her doctors repeatedly for the test. If a person has the financial resources, feels she might be at risk for the gene and wants to take the screening test, there's absolutely no good reason to refuse her, even if you think she's being (ugh) "hysterical."
A few weeks ago, in a New York Times Magazine piece, Peggy Orenstein related her first instinct when facing breast cancer recurrence: take the other breast too. Her oncologist responded with a simple question: "Would an average woman cut off her breasts?"
I hope not.
Image via Getty
Recall, if you will, Bruce Springsteen's contribution to The Wrestler soundtrack.
Have you ever seen a one trick pony in the field so happy and free?
If you've ever seen a one trick pony then you've seen me.
Have you ever seen a kitten with literally NO profile eat a slice of watermelon?
If you've ever seen that kitten then you've seen me.
Then you've seen meeeeEEEEEE.
In a move worthy of Charlie Kaufman, Doug Hutchison's newly non-child bride Courtney Stodden took a break from living in a sex tape just long enough to actually film a sex tape. Meta! It is a solo tape, filmed shortly after her 18th birthday, and, SORRY, it is totally private until she decides to sell it for more money than your parents' house.
She warns: "Hackers, don't even go there cause you'll find nothing. I don't want to put any images in people's mind; I'm gonna leave it up to you guys to think what you want."
Okay, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS STORY. Adam Sandler went on Jay Leno last night and told a heeeee-larious story about how for two months straight he kept waking up covered in itchy lesions, so he set up a security camera in his bedroom and caught the housekeeper sneaking in and rubbing poison ivy all over his entire body while he slept. And then he said, "Why are you doing that?" And the housekeeper went to the laundry hamper and pulled out some of Adam Sandler's soiled man-panties and said, "That. That's why." I assaulted you in the night as revenge because you consistently make me handle the stiff, reeking casualties of your leaking butthole. [End of story.] And then Leno is literally like, "Teeeeeeeeeee-hee-hee-hee-hee-heeeeeeeeee!!!" OKEY DOKEY, EVERYONE INVOLVED.
(You can watch the video here.)
I don't...I can't. I'm out. Why is this not all over the news. What is this. What is happening. Why. What. What was in Adam Sandler's underpants. Where did the housekeeper get the poison ivy. Why did Sandler not awake. Why was Jay Leno like "NBD." What world is this. I have to go. [ContactMusic]
Chaz Bono is super pumped about his 60-pound weight loss.
"[I have no cravings] at all anymore," Cher's son revealed. "I really feel very satisfied and comfortable with the way I eat now, which is amazing and for me, kind of a miracle. I never thought I'd be that kind of a person."
"To me, it was never really about a number," Bono adds. "It was just about getting healthy and feeling and looking better. So I'm just kind of letting my body dictate. I've been eating the same way now for months and months and that hasn't changed. I'm going to have to eat this way for the rest of my life."
So glad to hear you're feeling good, Chaz! I like Chaz. [E!]
Images via Getty.
In today's edition of Tweet Beat, tries to wrap his toupée-topped head around the enigma of Lil Jon (probably for money), Anthony Bourdain reflects on his Boy Scouts experience, and Flea may or may not have cried into his cereal this morning.May 17, 2013
I miss the pre-Heimlich days of Boy Scouts when tracheotomies with our rusty Scout knives were the suggested first line of treatment.— Anthony Bourdain (@Bourdain) May 17, 2013
Not leaving the house this weekend until I'm caught up on Scandal. I feel left behind & left out like the last girl to get my period.— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) May 16, 2013
are we bringing back jelly sandals this summer or what?— Kristen Bell(@IMKristenBell) May 17, 2013
Dear Dallas,I hate to do this last minute, but I have to cancel. I'd give my right eye to be there, but it's swollen and gross. Apologies.— Nathan Fillion (@NathanFillion) May 17, 2013
@jinkxmonsoon I JUST SAW THE LAST EPISODE YOU WON AAAHHH I'M SO HAPPY!!!!! Sorry I'm so behind. YAY!!!!!!!— Kat Dennings (@OfficialKat) May 17, 2013
billie holiday can make a grown man weep into his cereal— Flea (@flea333) May 17, 2013
So the 5th dentist is just an asshole, right?— Jimmy Kimmel (@jimmykimmel) May 17, 2013
Remember, time moves fast and our loves and connections die leaving us all alone — every commercial lately or is it just me ladies?— adam pally (@adampally) May 17, 2013
Yes your honor I admit it. I am fierce as hell. Send me to fierceness jail— The Mountain Goats (@mountain_goats) May 17, 2013
Does a bar called "The Wine Dive" already exist? Just selling Shaw and spiked prune juice?— Kristen Schaal (@kristenschaaled) May 17, 2013
"I'm kind of surprised Tim Horton's even exists. It's such a mediocre thing. It's like they perfected mediocrity." Dad sick of driving maybe— Tavi Gevinson (@tavitulle) May 17, 2013
"Gross" - me, thinking about pretty much everything.— Michael Ian Black (@michaelianblack) May 17, 2013
i NEED FREE 7-LAYER BURRiTOS FOR LiFE @tacobell— YUNG FORTUNE COOKiE (@JODYHiGHROLLER) May 17, 2013
When I misspell a word so badly that there are no replacement suggestions the sense of shame follows me all day.— Anna Kendrick (@AnnaKendrick47) May 17, 2013
Mustaches on the grill of your car seem to be getting popular I see... So far today I've seen 4!! Lol— Audrina Patridge (@AudrinaPatridge) May 17, 2013
Jay Z and Beyonce are expecting another baby and I'm prayingggg its me.— Christopher Manzo (@chris_manzo) May 17, 2013
Where is leonardo dicaprio I wanna sink a ship— dıpןo (@diplo) May 17, 2013
Image via Donald Trump's Instagram. LOL.
The British have Kate Middleton, but across the pond, we've got Beyoncé. The Queen of America is with child, and it is time to succumb to the wildest rumors that will undoubtedly consume our thoughts until Bey's second baby is birthed. Did Beyoncé go to Cuba to become impregnated with Fidel Castro's child? Is this just part two in her plan to subvert the patriarchy with Illuminati children? In the span of nine months, we're going to hear all kinds of shit.
1. SURROGATE! SURROGATE!
Remember when Tamar Braxton, Toni Braxton's sister that no one cares about, kept telling people that she thought Beyoncé used a surrogate for Blue Ivy because of Beyoncé Stomach-foldgate? Get ready for round two. Hopefully, Braxton will blink into a camera somewhere and say the same thing about Baby #2 because there's no such thing as too many fake lashes and fake baby bump conspiracies.
2. ILLUMINATI! ILLUMINATI!
Did you guys know the "Ivy" part of "Blue Ivy" actually stands for Illuminati's Very Youngest? Now you know. Hunker down and get some Illuminati facts before they start controlling your brain, you. Now that another Beyoncé Yung Illuminati is on the way, maybe his/her middle name will be Ivvy, for Illumanti's Very Very Yungest (Blue Ivy Aint Got Shit On Dis).
3. BABY NAMES! BABY NAMES!
Everyone likes to speculate that Beyoncé will name her second child with the same formula she named her first (color+plant). But people tend to forget that parents get lazier with their second kid. There isn't as much excitement as with the first, you have to change diapers while spitballing potential names, or in Beyoncé's case, spitballing names, watching a nanny change diapers while you're getting your makeup done so you can sing for the president and other such Beyoncé stuff. This time around, I'm thinking she'll switch things up with another simple formula: ice cream+flavor. "Cherry Garcia" and "Americone Dream" are perfectly acceptable names to me. And even if they weren't, it's Beyoncé. She runs the world, etc.
4. KOMPARISONS! KOMPARISONS!
Everyone is all about Kim Kardashian and her swollen feet these days; Beyoncé is now doubt procreating just to show Kim how pregnancy is done. Remember that stunning, pregnancy friendly one-shoulder orange number from the VMA's? Remember how she cupped her baby bump and looked like a goddess of fertility? Remember how she wasn't a gigantic sad floral sofa constantly running from the Internet? We need pregnant Beyoncé back.
5. DEEPER MEANING! DEEPER MEANING!
For generations, astrologers and old potheads from Woodstock have pondered when we will enter the Age of Aquarius. Cherry Garcia Ivvy will bring the dawning of harmony and trust between all humans, the end to wars and natural disasters. She/he will fulfill the astrological prophecy that we could so use right now. Keep your fingers crossed and your kundilini's focused on they day of Beyoncé's second child and hopefully the stars will align in our, and Beyoncé's, favor.
Awww yeah. Olivia Pope color palette.
NORTH HOLLYWOOD, CA - MAY 16: Actress Kerry Washington attends Academy of Television Arts & Sciences' Presents an Evening with 'Scandal' at the Leonard H. Goldenson Theatre on May 16, 2013 in North Hollywood, California. (Photo by Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images)
Ever since former Italian Prime Minister Silvio Burlusconi's sex parties came under investigation in 2011, I've spent many a-morning pondering the meaning of the term given to the raunchy late night escapades of the premier, "bunga bunga" parties. Initially, I thought it was a sound appropriated from Gullah Gullah Island, but that's because I have the maturity of an 8 year old. I've settled on believing that it's the sound of the undoubtedly large boobs bouncing in the sleazy Italian politician's face at his sex parties, who thenceforth referred to them as such. But I digress, though I'd love some more insight into the etymology of "bunga bunga."
Karima el-Mahroug, one of the Berlesconi's bunga bunga girls, testified in the case against three former Berlusconi aides on Friday, revealing the strange and the very strange details of those wild nights. El-Mahroug described the parties, which were held in a disco at Burlusconi's private villa where the women who performed often spent the night.
Among stories of women wearing naughty nun outfits with lingerie underneath, El-Mahroug stated that another bunga bunga woman dressed up as either Obama, donning a mask of his visage with sexy lingerie, or as a Milan magistrate who is leading the prosecution against Berlusconi, complete with a red wig and a magistrate's robe. I'm not sure if Berlusconi's spite for Obama and the Milanese magistrate manifested themselves in sexual urges or whether it was all some sort of odd joke, but either way, his boner has got some weird taste. I'm usually not one to judge people's sexual predilections because all sex is basically weird, but that is WEIRD.
El-Mahroug is knee deep in the scandal herself. She was only 17 at the time of the bunga bunga parties, though she lied about her age and just about everything else to get there. During her testimony, the now 20-year-old spoke of how she told guests at the parties that her name was Ruby, that she was Egyptian, and that she was related to former Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, which Berlusconi embarrassingly declared in defense of El-Mahroug when she was arrested, claiming that he wanted to avoid a diplomatic crisis. I wonder if he's into diplomatic crisis erotica, too?
Image via AP.
What screams "beauty products" more than kids being forced to kill each other?
Today, CoverGirl announced its sponsorship of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. While reading the book, one might be revolted by the residents of the post-apocalyptic city known as The Capitol — the headquarters of an intensely brutal government — and their over-the-top flamboyant, extravagant style. And yet! Cover Girl sees the movies as a $ales opportunity.
From a press release:
With The Hunger Games: Catching Fire partnership, we wanted to redefine cosmetics’ relationship to film with a fantasy-meets-reality beauty experience,” said Esi Eggleston Bracey, VP and General Manager, Global P&G Cosmetics. “The film inspired COVERGIRL campaign coming out this fall truly will bring beauty transformation to life in an aspirational, dramatic fashion. All of us at COVERGIRL were captivated by Suzanne Collins’ novels and the first film, so we’re thrilled to collaborate with Lionsgate on such a bold beauty partnership with the release of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire.”
“We are excited to announce COVERGIRL as the exclusive makeup partner for The Hunger Games: Catching Fire,” said Paula Kupfer, Lionsgate’s Vice President of Promotions and Consumer Products. “The exquisite beauty and style in the world of the Capitol is a focal point of this film. Partnering with an innovative brand like COVERGIRL to create an additional layer of beauty storytelling and inspiration for the fans is new territory that we’re delighted to explore.”
Right, sure, aspirational. Okay. With the first film, there was a Capitol Couture Tumblr, a focus on shoes, and an OPI nail polish collection. Now, in addition to more couture, it looks like there will be eye shadow, lip gloss, blush, who knows.
It makes perfect business sense: As the Examiner reports, "the film’s makeup department used CoverGirl products on set to create the film’s luxurious, high couture looks." Why not sell fans the same lipstick Effie Trinket uses?
But considering the overtly anti-establishment themes in the book — and the fact that the saga's heroine, Katniss Everdeen, is dirt-poor and paraded around the districts like a showpony, makeup seems like a tool of oppression and not in the spirit of the rebellion.
Honestly, CoverGirl has been making some great marketing choices lately: Janelle Monae! Queen Latifah! Ellen! Pink! Of course it's just a movie and buying Capitol eyeliner doesn't mean you're supporting the sickos responsible for killing Rue. It just seems weird that something very dark and very ugly is being turned into something easy, breezy, beautiful.
(BTW, The Hunger Games now has an Instagram account.)
Capitol CoverGirl [Facebook]