Have you heard?

In the general theme of gossip, we have the band, the show, and also the verb itself.

The band is great because their song "Fire with Fire" is my "Eye of the Tiger."

The show, Gossip Girl, is awesome in a mythical sense, like Paul Rudd.

And the act itself means that I have something to tell you. Not about celebrities or anything scandalous. I just wanted to say, have you heard of televisionwithoutpity.com? Just because, the recapper Jacob writes things every week that cause me to pause, and linger, and reread, to fully absorb the genius. In reference to Gossip Girl, Jacob writes:

"How being looked at means being responsible to the people looking at us, and how incredibly difficult and painful it is to retain your grip on anything real when every occasion is an occasion to be false, because it's drastically easier.
It doesn't matter if you're really perfect as long as everybody thinks you are; it doesn't matter if you're really happy, or a family, or good, as long as nobody sees the cracks. But what none of them can imagine -- and it is difficult -- even just one person, somewhere in a secret place, that would look you in your eyes and say they see the cracks and still don't care. That's the home they're all trying to create, for themselves and for each other, all the time -- that's all Dan is about, really; that's all Blair was saying when she said everybody knew how bad it was -- but it also comes back to this: being abject, dancing in freefall, is good. Those are the free places. But they're still not as good as owning the spot where you stand."


TelevisionWithoutPity.com Read more!

Project Runway: I'm Sorry, You're Out

Project Runway, you are officially demoted.

I rooted for you, I tried sticking up for you when you were dismissed as just another reality show. And I didn't give up on you throughout this lackluster season until last night.

Your former brilliance seems to have imploded into a black hole, stunning viewers with your absence of light, rather than the emergence of it.

What the hell, PR? I loved you. You presented challenges to the contestants, which we fans could engage with and evaluate; you judged fairly, promoted innovation and creativity, and allowed, most importantly, new talent to emerge unencumbered, bolstered by support and mentorship from the best in the industry. You were relevant, aware, and edited cleanly, without the more prevalent reality show penchant for melodrama.

And now? Now, even Tim and Heidi seem sick of this show. The challenges are rehashed, ridiculous, and seem to now focus not on challenging designers, but on challenging advertisers to come up with a new way to work product placement into every damn challenge.

Look, slumps happen. But PR is a caricature of itself now, without the meta-irony that allowed me to continue loving The OC until the end of television as we know, or the apocalypse, whichever comes first. The challenges and editing have been atrocious; whereas previous seasons slipped into sensationalism once or twice, this season, even the contestants seem to have been hand selected for their ability to create catchphrase and attention. Their ability to create fashion isn't remotely relevent, all of a sudden, because they aren't being asked much, and they are delivering even less. The aren't creating, they are getting by, and just barely. Last night, none of the dresses were impressive, and none of them were finished. On any other show, that would be odd, troublesome. On PR, it is inexcusable. (Thus, they are demoted.)

Previous seasons focused on rising to the challenge, pushing the norm, and executing the seemingly impossible. It was fun to watch because you found yourself wondering, How did they do that? And, how would I do that? The structure of the challenges was thoughtful, almost as fun as seeing how it would be interpreted. Now, we have straight-forward challenges that are met by Kenley complaining that they aren't suited to her or her abilities, and how it isn't fair. I eventually disliked one or two people each season--I have watched every episode of every season, with rapture and devotion typically reserved for religious fervor--but at least they were interesting, and usually very talented. Now, I can barely stay interested enough to hate the epitomy of all things needy and annoying, Kenley, who is nothing more than a self-important hipster cliche. Boooring. Show me a giant balding Quasimodo who writes hilarious original showtunes and delivers a pitch perfect, affectionate Tim Gunn impersonation while designing fresh, perfectly detailed designs, or an angsty recovering addict with neck tattoos and mohawked son who yells at moms and creates highly original, beautiful yellow plaid couture. They were assholes, but they had the talent to make it layered, intriguing asshole-ness, rather than annoying, go-away, Bettie Page wannabes.

Project Runway, in Intelligent Bang, its not one week you're in, and the next you're out. You pretty much have to take suckiness to new and shocking lows, which, congratulations, you did. I still love Heidi and Tim, though. Read more!

Work it Out

One good way to not feel guilty about watching TV is watching TV at the gym. Not saying you should feel guilty about watching TV. Quite the opposite, in fact--which, I suppose, means I advocate feeling TV about watching guilt? This is in situations where, after going to Catholic Mass, you decide to go to Best Buy. Or, in broader terms, feel proud for watching TV. Really.

But, if you do struggle with guilt for "zoning out" in front of the tube, the gym can really help eliminate it. You don't even have to work out, just show up in comfy clothes and sneakers, wander around, and then eventually gravitate toward a spot where you can safely watch the game while pretending to wait for the elliptical. You will look and almost feel like a person who worked out. And you can always zing people who accuse you of "sitting around watching TV" by pointing out that, A) you went to the gym and B) you were not "sitting" so much as standing.

OR, and this is my approach, watch it on the treadmill, going at a comfortable pace, the kind of strolling-with-a-friend-while-having-to-pee-and-get-to-a-restroom sort of pace, and watch four or five channels from suspended TVs, because things that are suspended are generally awesome, including, but not limited to, mobiles, glow in the dark stars, disco balls, and TVs. And I'm pretty sure watching TV this way makes you smarter, because you're not just watching TV, you are reading TV, thanks to closed captioning.

And reading TV can really be revelatory. For example,
commercials tend to have this sort of agenda. Like: they want to sell you things. Sometimes, they seem funny, or sweet, or both (I'm looking at you, Kaiser Permanente!) and you start feeling affection: I like this commercial, you think. It makes me smile. Which is why watching TV at the gym is really beneficial: when you read the captioning on the commercial, they pretty much spell it out. Its all, this product, that product, you need this. Like, I'm at the gym, totally on the treadmill, now is not the time, Carl's Jr!

NONETHELESS, not all commercials are bad (still looking at you, Kaiser! Thrive!) Some things that make me feel better, faster, stronger, and the opposite of guilty. (How I linked commercials to exercise is kind of a stretch...ha! Stretch! Get it?) Read more!

Survival of the... Stronger, Than Yesterday

The creature known as Britney Spears seems to be...evolving. Evidence suggest that the Britney, after an extended period of belated adolescence, has shed her protective layers of--for lack of better words--fatness and craziness, and is re-emerging as a tougher, better version of herself. Of course, when I say evidence, I mean gossip rags and tags online. I don't personally know her, so...your guess is as good as mine. She may be a gila monster or a swan. No judgement either way--gila monsters are really kind of cool.
But, at any rate, three cheers for the girl (since that is about how many people read this.) I mean, I don't fully understand the fascination with her; I know there is one, and that I, as a person currently living outside of a rock and who has never resided in a cave, share this fascination. Unabashedly. I love this girl and I am really, really optimistic about the new album, which is said to be coming out in about nine months. Which is coincidentally how long it took her to produce her two little boys, and they seem to be pretty awesome.
Also! She is nominated for three VMA's, so I know I am not alone in this pro-Britney campaign. Three more cheers, one for each VMA. Which means each reader has to "Cheers!" twice? Read more!

Rule Breaking

The idea of an "intelligent bang" is the idea that pop culture is not, by definiton, stupid. Sometimes, of course, pop culture is dumb, and reflects poorly on the culture's population. If this (horrible reality show, cheesy song, cliche movie) is what is popular, it's because we are all thoughtless sheep, goes the thinking. It is somewhat ironic how popular this is to say and think, how popular it's become to be wry and cynical and dismissive of anything enjoyed...or at least in my college educated and relatively pretentious crowd. So in an effort to champion the underdog, to stick up for the unpopular--or rather, unappreciated--bits that are popular and yet not--against instinct--horrible, cheesy, or cliche, this site was started. It would break the rules to champion something that isn't popular, that hasn't made a "bang." And yet, Guy Ritchie's new/old film "Revolver" is so universally reviled that I simply must break the rule.

With a stunning 6% on rottentomatoes.com, I had an idea that the movie might not be Oscar caliber. One review, by Chicago's Sid Smith, referred to a an online poll that named "Revolver" worse than "Alexander," "Bewitched," and "The Dukes of Hazard." I have seen "Alexander," "Bewitched, and now "Revolver," but unfortunately I cannot, with any authority, say anything about "The Dukes of Hazard." But I can authoritively say that "Revolver" is, to be scientific, about one trillion times better than the atrocious "Alexander" and the blindingly bad "Bewitched." Honestly.

Okay, I will concede that Ray Liotta overacted a smidge. But. Andre Benjamin played it so cool and even that he made up for any exagerrated performances, plus Jason Statham looks great with hair. I mean, God. The film is original and shot with such precision; an aerial shot of a black cadillac slowly filling up the screen as it moves down the street, all curves and angles and shiny and black, demonstrated to me a director who is in control. Yes, of course the film is stylized; intentionally, and to good effect. This is no "Batman" circa George Clooney, bless his charming little soul. The white, pristine jail cells that held (separately) the trio of Vincent Pastore, Andre Benjamin, and Jason Statham, and the aforementioned shiny black cadillac that also holds the three, are not meant to be realistic representations. They are meant to be visual representations of the extended metaphor that is the movie; it's all a game of chess. One brilliant flashback demonstrates how Statham's character passed the time in solitary confinement: he played the game against himself. The Liotta scenes are always lush with color and excess; he is in a gilded room in one scene, and an elaborate and eerie blue tanning, um, room in the next. The so easily dismissed "mTV style" of editing is not jarring or, in 2008, anything to be annoyed about. In fact, many scenes are extended and contemplative and impressive, particularly with Liotta's character--his Bellagio style casino, or maybe Versailles is a better comparison, displays his character's character in long shots, allowing the viewer to see, in more ways than one, the whole picture.

This movie is not thoughtless. It provokes thought, as it means to, but clearly quite a bit of thought went into making it. Too much thought can spoil a film, to be sure, but this is not the case. The movie is trying hard, and I appreciate the effort. I was impressed by the story line, and I thought it kept its focus, and maintained its metaphor without giving anything away. The twist isn't anything outrageous, but it is an unusual one for mainstream films, by which I mean, an indie film this is not. And it doesn't try hard in the "Look at me, I am doing so many crazy things, no one is smart enough to 'get' this film besides me, because I am a genius" way. It is in no way a poor man's David Lynch. Ritchie seems to want the viewer to figure it out--not immediately, but eventually, and gently leaves clues throughout the film. Without spelling anything out, he gives you all the letters. My intelligence was never insulted by dumbed down plot devices or contrived and truly pretentious "symbols." It did make me upset to read that the film is perceived, depending on the review, to be guilty of both of the above director's sins. So, I am breaking the rules, because "Revolver" did, and I am saying to the film's opponents: you are kinda dumb. Read more!

Giving thanks

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thank you, two wonderful people, for voting on the IntelligentBang logo.

Thanks, everyone, for your patience while we figure out how to blog with regularity.

Thank you, Britney Spears, for writing the awesomeness that is "Overprotected" way before your meltdown, because your words trump mine and now I have more proof that you are a real human.

Thank you, Donald Trump, for having a last name that means to surpass, or whatever it means.

Thank you, Hollywood, for holiday movies, like "Enchanted," with Amy "Adorable" Adams and McWhogivesadamnnowthattheshowsucksplusialwayslikedwhatshishotnessyouknowthemeanonethatusedtodatethegirlwhogothitinthefacewitharockDreamy; "The Golden Compass," with who cares, I've waited like a year and a half for that movie; "I'm Not There," with every actor ever, and like twenty more really interesting movies.

Thank you, Mason Jennings, for coming to San Diego, and for writing songs.

Thank you, NBC, for Thursdays, but mainly for "The Office," especially for the greatest love story since Pam and Jim, which is Darryl and Kelly.

Thank you, TIna Fey, for being a girl.

Thank you, Paris, for having sex.

Thank you "Greek" for whenever you come back.

Thank you Bravo, for like, everything, like usually showing good movies like "The Godfather," for trying so hard to make intelligent reality TV, plus the "Real Housewives of Orange County," plus the best announcer voice ever on all your ads....and maybe the greatest gift of all....Tim Gunn.

Thank you Heidi Klum, and a higher power, for "Project Runway."

Thank you.... mom and dad for feeding me, among other things. Thank you, boy, for being nice even when I'm not. Thank you M, for being lovely and yet just like me, but also different enough that we can still talk to each other.

Thank you, everyone creative, for creating the good and smart and wonderful. Read more!

Evolution needs guidance

It's evolution, baby. Help us pick our logo.



First or second? (Or maybe we don't need one. We don't know, we're the sort that like to embellish, often unnecessarily.) Read more!

Project Greatness

I've been struggling to care about pop culture lately. I've been bored/overwhelmed by the happenings; the fact that my day job blocks all internet access except to Staples.com certainly hasn't helped. Without celebrity blogs/movie reviews/television show recaps tempting me, I've developed a fascination with the weekly specials on Staples.com and a deeper understanding of the vast product line they offer--so much more than office supplies! But nothing to blog home about, and I've been getting worried. Has all my preaching about the values of pop culture and the pure joy of mass entertainment been false? Have I worked myself into a frenzied defense of something that is, actually, as flimsy and empty as is commonly believed? No. We mustn't forget: Project Runway returns November 14th, and will restore balance in my world, if not everyone else's. Michael Kors is gonna make hyperbolic comments and weird faces, Nina Garcia is gonna be a bitch who knows exactly what shes talking about, and Heidi Klum will be so adorable that she may be eaten with a spoon. If it wasn't for Project Runway, I might not be here anymore. Here being this site, not Earth, and I only clarify that because, I am sure that Project Runway can prevent suicide, just not in this particular instance. Let the countdown begin to November 14th, and if you are feeling down or detached from society, just hold out a little longer, and, as Tim Gunn would say, make it work. Read more!

Can You Spot the Attempts at Accepting/Understanding a Britney Spears?

You know how sometimes you see drunk people, and you feel like an anthropologist studying an uncivilized culture with rituals and traditions that seem to completely defy logic as well as human nature, and then you remember that one time you and your friends stumbled down the street singing Britney Spear's songs while wearing plastic hats for each one of the Village People roles and mustaches drawn on in Sharpie occasionally screaming "Who wants a mustache?" and making sure no one goes home without doing a pole dance on a streetlight since the girl wearing the Indian Chief hat said that it would be funny?Obviously I meant that figuratively, to demonstrate that sometimes, having an outside perspective can be revealing, and sometimes experiencing something yourself helps you understand other people's situations, and also Indian headdresses are inherently impressive; I'm obviously not one of those annoying bloggers who tries to slip in funny revealing things in order to psuedo-subtly give the impression that I lead an interesting and varied life. I will tell you right now if I wasn't so attractive I would probably have been clubbed to death in order to silence me, much like how chihauhuas are invincible despite being yappy things that shake and pee all the time. Chihuahuas and myself have developed adorableness as a defense mechanism, and have small bladders.

I meant to say, both my mom and 50 Cent discussed and ponder the girl. Her name is now slang for vagina. She is who I sing when I am drunk. She is like an abstract painting worth millions of dollars being publicly displayed in a museum, and some people say its ridiculous: it doesn't look like anything, what's it supposed to be, anyone can make a mess with a bunch of colors and then say "you wouldn't understand" by way of explanation, and, my favorite, "I don't like it and it's not really art since it was all influenced by drugs." Then some people say: it represents sadness/corruption/hunger/beauty/Socialism/if it wasn't for the Bush Administration/the feminine mystique/myself/desire/drugs/penis envy/life itself.

The thing with abstract art is, if its controversial, you know its good. And everyone is right.

Because a painting won't change after its been painted, no matter what people say; it stays the same while the world around it changes.

It would be fascinating to watch a painting trying to comply with what people think about it; I think they had something like that in Harry Potter?

Sorry, I was just watching "Who the F**K is Jackson Pollack?" and I always root for the underdog. (WAY TO GO RHODE ISLAND! THE LITTLEST STATE!)

I'm just saying, the girl is a girl. Not a painting. She's an intelligent bang alright, but thats like saying your best friend is all you could ever ask for in a stepstool. Shes sturdy, supportive, and you can move her all around when you need her. Read more!