The log line for Babes on a Bus, Fox's new reality dating show pilot: "At each stop, the women will be introduced to the town's finest bachelors, who will be on hand to impress them with romantic scenery and delicious local food. They even will introduce the ladies to their family and friends. At the end of each week, the women choose whether to board the bus headed for the next town — or stay." So it's a television show that positions single women as sexual vikings, via Norway, no less. I have no problem with this, and neither should you.
Since SNL announced that it will occasionally be crowd-sourcing host and musical guest suggestions — and since the first Host of the People (if you don’t count the Betty White campaign), Louis CK, had such a good turn — I’ve been brainstorming my short list of candidates for 2013. Jamie Foxx will host next week with Ne-Yo, and Martin Short and Paul McCartney are up on the 15th; after that, it’s up to America (well, sometimes). And I don’t trust America. America is too hung up on ska right now, and I see a lone wolf in the pack of commenters calling out for Eric Dane to host. What if that person has a high Klout score? I’m afraid of Americans. I’m afraid of the world. Trust no one. Except me. Trust me. Here is my SNL host/musical guest omakase:
This Bad-era demo will be seeing release on another posthumous MJ album dropping in September, this one a purposefully unfinished collection of odds and ends. According to Jackson’s recording engineer Matt Forger, “One of the main intentions is to show that these are works in progress. To pull the curtain back. To actually see Michael in his natural work environment, how he directs, his sense of humor, his focus ... His spirit and emotion are totally there. He knew in demos he didn't have to be totally perfect in his execution. So he'd be loose. He'd throw in ad libs and dance or sing or pop his fingers or clap his hands. You just hear him enjoying himself.” Sounds great: Instead of trolling for one more radio hit, as they did with 2009’s Michael — where Akon was pulled in to awkwardly plug in the many holes of maligned lead single “Hold My Hand” — the MJ estate now seems cool with just letting this stuff out, letting it be prodded and poked just as it is. More of that, please.
