eighton Meester, Megan Hauserman, Olivia Palermo, and more.
I’ve been monitoring this blog’s progress over the past month or so using an outside analytics software. I’m happy to report that people are reading and the readers do grow exponentially as the days go by. Keep in mind, I only really hope for one enthusiastic reader per post. That isn’t why I’m posting now, though.
Instead, I’d like to make it known that I apparently get about five times as many readers for a post about a hot girl than I do about anything else; hollywood, movies, news, music, quotes, etc. As a thank you to those girls who have made the blog more popular than I thought it would be, and a lot more fun to write, here’s an extra helping of each!
Mary Louise Parker
PS: I had to turn on the google safe search when getting some new Megan pics… so here’s an extra pic of fan favorite Hauserman! Also, Megan has been especially supportive of the blog, so sign her petition for a new VH1 show below.
Contemplating fame, what it is and how we choose to use it, is part of the reason why I write. I’ve never been one to overly care for celebrities. I ate lunch next to Oprah once, and girls were crying. I didn’t get it. I am, however, fascinated with fame and Hollywood. I can go on and on writing about Paul Newman’s filanthropy and charm, or James Dean’s reputation and iconic legacy. It’s all very fantastical and enthralling. It feels very poetic to write about. I like Steve McQueen for a very different reason.
Steve McQueen was once the highest paid actor in the industry. The number one action hero paved the way for the likes of Bruce Willis, Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, etc. He was a real life action star too, famous almost as much for racing cars as he was for acting.
As previously stated, I like writing about the likes of James Dean and Paul Newman because it feels poetic; The rise to fame, the living of the American dream, the immortality. Steve McQueen was different. He was once quoted stating that he would rather wake up in the middle of no where than in any city on earth, and he meant it too. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read an interview where some celebrity claims they’re “not into the Hollywood party scene anymore” or that they “would rather stay at home on Friday night playing Scrabble.” It’s all bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. I like you, Paris Hilton, but if you’re at home reading about finance on any Friday night ever then may God strike me dead…
… or, well, maybe God can just trip me or something.
Steve McQueen had worries and he always comes off as very human to me. He didn’t ever want to be poor, he didn’t want his family to struggle, and he knew that the platform of stardom brought security. Steve McQueen was very real. He used to have nightmares about being broke. He credits his midwestern upbringing for his moral compass and his keen sense of social justice. He perfected the anti-hero persona and used it to propel himself to superstardom through roles as likable crooked cops and business savvy super crooks. That same superstar would take the neighborhood kids on motorcycle rides through the desert in his free time.
What people liked about Steve McQueen, the person, was that he lived by his own code. He had his own rules and regulations, but he stuck to them. To me, that says a whole lot more than going with the flow of what feels comfortable, or what people tell you is right. Everyone loves a risk taker, especially when the risks pay off.
I have big plans for myself. I have people asking me “what I’m going to do with my life” every single day, and I have plenty of radical answers that often throw the asker for a loop. I like that a lot. It’s very easy to look to a Dean or Newman, and to say that dreaming big pays off. It’s a lot braver to look to a Steve Mcqueen, and to just be ready to work your ass off for everything you’ve ever wanted.
lthough I’m not yet pushing 30, I appreciate your gratitude, Parker.
A Thank-You Note to Men
By Mary-Louise Parker
from Esquire Magazine
To you, whom it may concern:
Manly creature, who smells good even when you don’t, you wake up too slowly, with fuzzy, vertical hair and a slightly lost look on your face as though you are seven or seventy-five; you can fix my front door, my sink, and open most jars; you, who lose a cuff link and have to settle for a safety pin, you have promised to slay unfortunate interlopers and dragons with your Phillips head or Montblanc; to you, because you will notice a woman with a healthy chunk of years or pounds on her and let out a wolf whistle under your breath and mean it; because you think either rug will be fine, really it will; you seem to walk down the street a little taller than me, a little more aware but with a purpose still; to you who codifies, conjugates, slams a puck, baits a hook, builds a decent cabinet or the perfect sandwich; you who gives a twenty to the kids selling Hershey’s bars and waits at baggage claim for three hours in your flannel shirt; you, sir, you take my order, my pulse, my bullshit; you who soaps me in the shower, soaks with me in the tub; to you, boy grown-up, the gentleman, soldier, professor, or caveman, the fancy man with initials on your towels and salt on your chocolates, to you and to that guy at the concession stand; thank you for the tour of the vineyard, the fire station, the sound booth, thank you for the kaleidoscope, the Horsehead Nebula, the painting, the truth; to you who carries me across the parking lot, up the stairs, to the ER, to roll-away or rice mat; to you who shows up every so often only to confuse and torment, and you who stays in orbit, always, to my left and steady, you stood up for me, I won’t forget that; to you, the one who can’t figure it out and never will, and you who lost the remote, the dog, or your way altogether; to you, wizard, you sang in my ear and brought me back from the dead, you tell me things, make me shiver; to the ones who destroyed me, even if for a minute, and to the ones who grew me, consumed me, gave me my heart back times ten; to most everything that deserves to call itself a man: How I do love thee, with your skill to light fires that keep me warm, light me up.
I’ve been waiting for this one for a while now. Contra, the new release from Vampire Weekend became available this past Monday. Of course, the album was available for streaming in its entirety for a week or so prior on myspace but I managed to hold back. The truth is, Vampire Weekend is one of those special cases that comes around once in a blue moon, usually when you least expect it. I felt I owed it to the countless plays I gave “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” and “Bryn” this past year to wait for an official copy of Contra, and to sit down and listen to the album in full when I had a moment to breathe.
Here’s what I think. I went in expecting to love the album, so it’s no surprise to me that I’m enjoying track after track as I sit here listening. Having said that, I’m very familiar with their sound and their direction. This definitely feels like a sequel that you might need to enjoy after experiencing the original. Anyone with taste will like it regardless, but to get the most from it, listen to Vampire Weekend first. This isn’t like watching Jason X where you can just jump in and enjoy seeing Jason kill tweens in space instead of at Camp Crystal Lake in Friday the 13th. I think newcomers should without a doubt give the self titled debut a spin before listening to this sophomore effort.
The sound is more complex and electronic than its predecessor. Vampire Weekend's arrangements were reminiscent of the most polished elementary school music class ever. I mean that as an extreme compliment. I like the glockenspiel.
Their sound is undeniably unique and it’s maintained on Contra. It does, however, feel like more of an effort to listen to. The simple hipster/Afro/prep style is somewhat fogged in more complex music. There aren’t stand out catchy singles on here like “A-Punk” or “The Kids Don’t Stand a Chance,” but that doesn’t mean the new tracks aren’t great. The pace feels faster, the lyrics are more abundant and maybe even a little more complex. Having had the year to prepare, I’m more than glad to participate. I’d say I’m on my fourth listen right now, give or take a couple of extra listens to the tracks I especially like.
I’ve always liked “Horchata,” the track that was released a few months early to give listeners a taste of the new stuff. The melodic tunes of “White Skies” are great. I like the cooing. This track is more or less what I was hoping for from the album, so having it on here leaves me satisfied. Therefore, I don’t have a problem with having to pay extra attention to tracks that are much more complex like the more frantic “California English” or “Cousins.” I’ve been listening to “Diplomat’s Son” and “Giving Up the Gun” on repeat. I also especially like the bonus track, “Giant.”
What it comes down to is that with each passing album, artists who are receiving an abundance of critical acclaim, great sales, publicity, etc. are pressured to evolve. I think Vampire Weekend made the judgment call to make an album for the fans rather than one that could have easily capitalized on their mainstream exposure from the past few months. For that I am very grateful, and Contra should leave the fans well-satiated for at least another year or so. However, “Bryn” will remain my track of choice.
Oh, and with regards to the post title, I like Spike too.
Lively in "Lantern," Yay or Nay? I say call Leighton.
Blake Lively of Gossip Girl fame has officially been cast as the female lead in the new Green Lantern film which is set to begin production in March.
I think this is both a good choice and a bad choice. I’d say it’s a risky choice to say the least. For one, The Green Lantern isn’t exactly the most popular super hero out there. Die hard comic geeks love Lantern, but he can’t touch Spiderman or Batman when it comes to mass market appeal. For that reason alone, Lively is an excellent choice.
I was sort of raised on comic books so I’m somewhat familiar with Hal Jordan, but this is where my problem is. I’m not a diehard, but I know these people. The diehard comic fans are going to be pissed. For one, Carol Ferris is brunette and Lively is clearly meant to be blonde. Second, Carol Ferris is almost just as well known as a super villain, Star Sapphire, and Lively is much better suited to play good rather than evil. Look at her! A dye job or a wig isn’t going to do the trick. I do, however, like Blake Lively a lot and for that reason alone, I’m willing to give her a shot. Apparently, she won the role with a knockout audition. Good for her. I’m rooting for you, Blake!
Replacement ideas? I think I read somewhere that someone thought Jordana Brewster would be a good pick and I agree. Jordana is fucking hot and she’s cut out to play a bad girl. Anyone remember her co-starring alongside Elijah Wood in The Faculty?
Me, personally… I think we all know who would be the best choice. Call Leighton!
Come on! Had no one thought of this? She has the same exact target demographic as Blake Lively, and girls like her better too. Plus, she’s proven that she has the chops to play bad.
“I turned down a scholarship to Yale. The problem with college is that there is a tendency to mistake preparation for productivity. You can prepare all you want, but if you never roll the dice you’ll never be successful.”—
hen I remembered that this horse had been beaten dead about two weeks ago.
I am very interested in Sam Worthington, though. The above picture is from Esquire. I interned with the magazine for a little over half a year and I remember that my one gripe with it was that it ended up having poor or dated cover stars. I actually ended up speaking with the publisher about it one day during my lunch break. Actually, I think I started the conversation off with, “Ben Affleck’s not cool. Why is Ben Affleck on our cover?”
I’m not sure exactly how the rest of the banter went, but I do know that what he ended with went something along the lines of, “Sam Worthington.”
Sam was the upcoming featured celebrity for September. I personally had no idea who he was, but I was intrigued enough to do some research. The cover is pretty fucking awesome. In my opinion, a pretty solid answer to anything “Ben Affleck.”
Avatar was amazing, but that goes without saying. Make the three hour commitment and just bite the bullet because it’s worth it. Anyway, this is what I’m getting to. I read his interview with Esquire and found this part particularly interesting:
From the September 2009 issue of Esquire
The walls of his room are covered. They have been for years. Lists. Pie charts. Graphs. Name after name after name. Some annotated, some circled or crossed out, lines going wildly in every direction. Identifying paths of least resistance.
The names are of other actors. They are of movies and directors. They are the systematic and scientific schemings of an impatient man.
"My room’s like John Nash’s fucking head. I cover it with fucking everything. As soon as I got out of drama school, I wrote down a list of every Australian actor there was, and then I went and watched all of their videos. So now I’ve watched every actor’s work, knowing full well that no one knows mine. So then you kind of research and then you think, well, how do I fit into that pie? Because if I’m too much like him, or I’m too much like this person, I’m never going to get a damn job. So you kind of realize where the hole is, where the gap is. Then I did the same thing in America. I researched everybody."
Article by Nam Le
I think Sam has a lot of X-factor, to say the least.
photos and quote: http://www.esquire.com/features/sam-worthington-quotes-0909