14 December 2010

Tried to warn you 'bout Geno and Daddy G, but I can't seem to get to you through the Notes From The News

Winter is upon us, the nights are long, the days are cold, and the fireplace is roaring. So throw a couple of logs at the mailman, and settle back with a cup of hot blonde, and we'll have a look at the wide wide world of wonder that is today's infotainment product. Onward!

Ohhhhh mercy. The Black-Eyed Peas are getting sued for copyright infringement. Again. Following two separate suits in October from unknowns claiming the Peas stole hooks form their demos, now another songwriter/producer has stepped forward claiming Will.I.Am and co. sampled his music without permission, going so far as to forge his signature on a licensing agreement to get the sample. The victim this time? Parliament/Funkadelic mastermind George Clinton. Doctor Funkenstein claims the Peas approached him to use a sample from "(Not Just) Knee Deep" in their song "Shut Up," but Clinton, having taste, says he refused . . . and that the Peas went ahead and used it anyway, faking his signature in the process. Now however stoned George may or may not be at any given moment, he is fierce about his copyrights, and I am more willing to listen to his side of the story on this, especially as the Peas are already being sued by others for pulling the same shit. But it's up to a court to decide who's right in this, not me. That said, fuck the Black Peas with a big fucking fuckety fuckstick. 

Hugh Jackman almost killed himself making an entrance via zip-line onto Oprah Winfrey's "Bringing Trash TV Down Under" series of shows. This is why directors don't let actors do their own stunts. Unless it's Mark Hamill, in which case nobody really cares. 

Once-promising starlet Thora Birch was fired from her starring role in an off-Broadway revival of Dracula last Friday.The cause was apparently her father/manager/bodyguard/creepazoid stalker Jack, who is alleged to have threatened one of the other actors for giving her a back-rub during a scene. This isn't the first time Jack has made trouble for Thora, but it may be one of the last; word is that unless Thora ditches her former porn-star dad and gets new representation, she's soon going to be unemployable on either coast. Which is a shame, as there just aren't enough stories about fathers giving actors direction on how to fuck their daughters during sex scenes. And now if you'll excuse me, I need to go take a shower and never, ever write of this creepy-assed mothafugga again. 

Site favorite Courtney Enlow has some thoughts about Miley Cyrus' recent bong-rippery, and what it really  means in terms in terms of young Miley's career and demographic, that hits far closer to the target than it has any right to. I'm going to have to rethink how I cover the former Ms. Montana. Or at the very least try to be more sympathetic to her stoned skank ass -- oops, sorry, Miley. 

Agitpop duo Das Racist have been denied entry to England for what they call "sticklerism on the part of UK Customs regarding paperwork," which is a funny little euphemism for "we couldn't be bothered to get our work visas," and are unable to make UK concert dates happen as a result. Das Racist has taken to its website to claim they were deported (which it wasn't since they never actually entered the country) because the UK government doesn't like their political views (which apparently consist of a low opinion of egg-and-cress sammies and digestive biscuits), and generally carrying on like a pair of self-important twats, which is about what you'd expect from a pair of Wesleyan grads who can't even describe their own music without sounding like pretentious goobers. Which leaves me with one thing to say: Well done, England! 

The Golden Globe nominations are out. Go have a look at the list and laugh at the choices. I'll wait. 

Joe Pantoliano gives a powerful, moving interview with the A. V. Club about mental illness, and his advocacy work in changing the way people view the mentally ill. If click just one of my links today, make it this one. Or Joey Pants is gonna find you and fuck you the fuck up, capisce? 

Today in who gives a fuck:
  • NBC is developing a drama about Playboy bunnies in the 1960s because HURR BOOBIES HURRR DURR HURRRDEDURRRDURRR 
  • George Clooney has a big tip -- sorry, is a big tipper. Would have been a better story the other way. 
  • This just in: Elizabeth Hurley cheated on her husband. With a cricket player. In other news, Elizabeth Hurley obviously doesn't give a shit who she sleeps with any more. Go for it guys!

Profiles in courage, dept.: People magazine is reporting that Jennifer Grey had surgery last week to remove a ruptured disc form her back -- she apparently suffered the injury on the first night of the two-night Dancing With the Stars finale. Grey was reportedly in so much pain the morning after the injury that she could hardly move -- yet somehow she pulled it together and came back to dance not once, but twice on the second night, and took home the championship. This on top of dancing through pain and injury for the entire season. Jennifer Grey is fifty years old. Grey's next project will be to swim the English Channel while carrying a team of Chinese gymnasts on her back and towing the QEII via a rope between her teeth. 

Mekhi Phifer has been cast as one of the leads in the new American production of Torchwood. He will play a CIA agent with a sense of humor that can, apparently, kill people. Word is Cap'n Jack Harkness is already turned on and aimed like a guided missile of sexual gratification in Mekhi's direction. And that's just the first five minutes of the first episode!

Nicolas Cage watch, dignity, always dignity edition: Jor-El was outside a Romanian nightclub (because duh, where else would you expect to run into Francis Coppola's batshit nephew), when someone apparently said something that set all the rage in him a-boilin'. (And knowing Nic, that something could have been anything from "Hey, The Sorcerer's Apprentice was a gigantic ball of shit and Elmer's Glue-All!" to "Hello, Mr. Cage. Would you like a glass of wine?") And when the rage does bubble, Nic makes trouble. In this case he went absolutely apeshit, screaming incoherently about respecting his eyes and getting in cars and walking away, and most of all dying for honor, because he will fucking DIE because of honor, he will fucking DIE right NOW, and HEEEEEE did it ALLLLL for the glory of LOOOOOOVVVVEEE! 

And that's it for this extra-wordy edition of the Notes From The News. I'll be back tomorrow with more magnificent madness. But now is the time on Nighthawk postcards when we break the ice a little:


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