You're probably thinking, "What's the big deal? It's not like the spiral is spinning. It's not 3-D. I don't see Mother Teresa's face jumping out at me." True. But there's something you might not realize. See the blue spiral? And the green one? THEY'RE THE SAME COLOR.
Go ahead, take a look.
Still don't believe me? Check out this post over at Discover Magazine, which explains how the mind interprets colors based on surrounding hues. Then grab a Kleenex and wipe your brain off the walls.
Now that I've typed that out, I see that more context doesn't really help. They're still weird. I mean, they both get points for altruism -- Arquette, certainly, for raising awareness of hunger issues, and Paltrow for raising awareness of...her bowels? But they both seem like they have too much time on their hands, right? Any other celebrity weirdness you saw today worth sharing? Let's make a list.
I knew big round glasses were back, but man, they are eh-heverywhere. I see them on the street (though I'm asking for it, I guess; I live in Brooklyn), I see them on fashion blogs, but now I finally know the strangest place of all: On Alec Baldwin's face in the movie Prelude to a Kiss. (Which was one of the "new movies" that cycled through on Hulu the other day, which is how I wound up watching. It's awful -- stay away.)
What in the world? I don't remember 1992 being that strange at all. Alec Baldwin as neurotic doof was a tough enough pill to swallow, but with these massive specs, it's a whole other level of head-scratching.
But the lovely Baldwin visage is hardly the first face to support such epic frames. The other two that spring to mind....
There's something wrong with Orphan's movie poster. What, you ask? Why, it appears as though the film's marketers couldn't decide between two completely different taglines -- There's something wrong with Esther and Can you keep a secret? -- so they just decided to plop them both on in hopes that one will stick. Either that, or the poster is asking me to keep "July 24" a secret. That's certainly a strange thing to ask of me. Everyone will know by at least July 23 that July 24 will happen! Silly Orphan!
Do you wish Orphan had just picked a tagline too, PopWatchers? Or am I just being cranky?
Bad news for cabbies: As of now, Kelly Bensimon is the only cast member slated to return to season 3 of Real Housewives of New York, which means we can expect more inane arguments, childish pillow fights and dopey middle-of-5th-Avenue-what-the-heck-is-she-doing? jogging sessions.
Of course, this is not to say the other five housewives -- yes, I'm counting Simon -- won't sign on for an additional season (word is the ladies are just holding out for more cash). But I find it interesting that Kelly would be the first on board, since her image was transformed from relatively respected fashionista to self-important crazy-face thanks to the show. Sure, she'll get the opportunity to redeem herself with another season, but come on, Kelly. There's a reason Paula Abdul, god bless her, only filmed one season of Hey Paula. You should really just run away when you still can! Just not in the middle of the street, m'kay?
But the whole casting sitch has also made me wonder: Which housewife could I not live without? If Bravo could only cast only one of the six -- yes, I'm counting Simon again -- who would I choose? The easy answer is fan favorite Bethenny, since the skinny girl brings a certain amount of refreshing soberness to an otherwise bonkers cast. But you know what? I'm going to go with Ramona (gasp!). Because love her or hate her, what would the show be like without her oh-so-offensive (sometimes) unintentional insults? Or her standing-in-place dancing to mysterious, inaudible music? Or her embarrassed, dying-slowly-inside daughter?
A fun activity for these economically strapped times: Go to your local library, rifle through the shelves, and try to locate the most ridiculous book you can find! Or, if you prefer to save gas money -- or are currently wondering, "What are books?" -- just log onto Awful Library Books, an awesome blog that posts the worst reads available in local libraries. The blog, which was started by two Detroit-area librarians -- see TIME's article about the duo here -- is a little like a literary version of FailBlog, highlighting long-forgotten treasures like Bert Bacharach's Book For Men, Dee Snider's Teenage Survival Guide, and Guide to the Return of Halley's Comet (useful once every 75 years!).
At the risk of sounding completely insane today instead of my typical "partially," I'm convinced that the kid in the backseat of AT&T's new Family Plan commercial was cast solely because his voice sounds exactly like Michael Cera's. Listen and learn.
Well, "learn" was the wrong word. But it's worth asking: Has Michael Cera -- or Michael Cera's high-pitched, uneasy voice -- become his/its own genre at this point? I'm noticing more and more that certain products incorporate a certain offbeat "type" to sell things. In the latest Verizon/LG commercial, I get a distinctive Clark Duke or possibly Jonah Hill vibe from the sloppy-looking, sarcastic guy who claims "I would never use that stuff!" but is secretly jonesing for a new enV cell phone so he can start using all the cool apps ASAP and become a Twitter tool like his two gushing friends. I suppose if you can't have a T Mobile-shilling Catherine Zeta-Jones show up at the potential customer's doorstep, a surrogate voice-alike or act-alike is the next best thing. It's refreshing, actually, to see more relatable people on-screen than the perfect, plasticine 'bots we're used to.
Maybe I just watched too much* Arrested Development on DVD this weekend and am all George Michael'ed out.
I like to think my iPod can do anything, including but not limited to: entertaining me when I'm bored on the subway; delighting my friends during a dance party on Fire Island; transporting me away from annoying shoppers or people on the street. And now -- if that weren't enough! -- it seems iPods can save your life, according to a testimonial by a British girl whose life was maybe (sort of?) spared after her iPod diverted the voltage from a lightening bolt that struck her.
Please watch me while I swoon even more over a lifeless gadget. From doing a little more reading about the story, though, it seems that it could have been a lot of things that spared the girl's life -- the fact that she was holding hands with her boyfriend and sitting down at the time could have contributed. But whatever. I prefer giving the savior credit to a simple musical device that only continues to bring joy to the world. First, it revolutionized music. Now: saving lives! Can the iPod do anything wrong?
What else do I love? Imagining the other headlines that could crop up from the iPod's turn as a life-saving device: "iPod Nano Serves as Life Raft for Drowning Toddler!" or "Mugger Apprehended by Rogue iPod!" Maybe? It's far-fetched, but I'm having a fanciful afternoon. For giving me a moment of fancy, for saving the life of a young woman, for your future good deeds (I'll keep you near in case I plan to get mugged or drown sometime soon), just wanted to simply say: Thank you, iPod.
It ain't Festivus, but Google Maps has given us one cool gift: a Seinfeld-inspired map that allows you to zoom in on the location of Monk's Diner, Hunan 5th Ave., and Jerry's apartment, a.k.a. Vandelay Industries. (Of course, the show was filmed in Los Angeles, but let's suspend disbelief for a few minutes here.) Looking at the map, what I find most interesting is the distance between Elaine's and Jerry's apartments. I find it quite hard to believe that a downtown gal would have the patience to constantly pop into her ex-boyfriend's Upper West Side pad, since it's hard enough to maintain crosstown long-distance friendships here in NYC. But then again, it is likely hard to maintain a friendship with anyone when you're constantly shoving them on the ground, or publicizing your previous sexual experience with their husband-to-be at their wedding. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
A few lingering questions: Where's the Bubble Boy? Where would George place his non-existent home in The Hamptons? And does Bizarro Jerry live on the Upper East Side? Finally, what other TV show-inspired Google Maps would you like to see, PopWatchers (my vote: Dexter. So I know how to stay far, far away from Miami Metro)?
I can think of few impromptu late-night TV treats better than a good old Late Night with Craig Ferguson-induced giggle fest. Really, try this. The moment you decide to shut your mental and actual computers down and scream "I've had it with you!" to reality, just turn on Craig's final interview of the night. The Scotsman's steady stream of unrelated nonsense will suck you down the rabbit hole -- conveniently, my favorite place to sleep. His voice alone is a pleasant lullaby -- albeit with no clear melody and oft-indecipherable lyrics. And with the right guest, the cacophony of two people truly delighting in each other's utter insanity is not to be missed. Part 1 of Dame Edna Everage's interview from last night is available on YouTube, but the shorter segment, embedded below, is what I caught. Maybe this hearty dose of late-night ridiculata won't come off as gem-like as I remember, if you're not in a sleepy 2 a.m. celebrities are so stupid lately stupor. You make the call. I thought this was just incredible.
It helped that I'd never seen a Dame Edna interview before. Let's make CSI: Dame Edna happen! It would be so. Fetch.
P-Dubs, what falling-asleep TV do you recommend? Clearly, the trippier, the better for me....
