Set aside an hour as soon as possible so you can watch this 1:30 video 40 times.
Now that you've spent 60 minutes in the most enjoyable manner possible, let's break down what just happened in the event that shall forever be known as "DMX vs. Computer," one step at a time.
With the summer TV pickings so terribly slim this year, Hollywood Prospectus editor Emily Yoshida has had to get creative in the search for some scripted romantic intrigue until her CW shows come back. Here's your week in ’ships on HBO's The Newsroom.
"I'm going to single-handedly fix the Internet!" Will proclaims after a couple of on-air comments plucked from the ACN BBS were not the kind of reasoned, intelligent arguments he had expected from an anonymous online commenting system. The Information Superhighway has reared its ineffable head a few times before now, but it's really starting to emerge as the MPDG of The Newsroom — the quirky, impossible-to-tie-down nymph who will confound and delight our fictional staffers (LOLs, asterisks) and our IRL showrunner alike (at least have your erstwhile writing room brainstorm like 50 commenter screen names for you to choose from before settling on "LollipopLollipop.") So many bullets could have been dodged this week if they had just switched to Facebook commenting; at least then users would have to set up a fake account and populate it with pictures of other people's cats before firing off their death threats.
I spent six hours at the emergency pet clinic yesterday. Besides being the horrible experience that it always is — the boxes of tissues, crates of miserably crying cats, howls from the back room, people sobbing openly to the always-chilly-mannered receptionists and then being handed a giant bill for euthanasia — being in the waiting room felt sort of old-fashioned. Everybody was talking to each other: Oh, what’s that, a foxtail in the ear? Is he Siamese? I hope she’ll be okay, she’s a good dog, look at her sit in your lap like that. Nobody really reached for their phones, unless it was to check to see how many hours they’d been waiting there. They were busy talking to each other or being miserable while absentmindedly patting their labradoodles’ heads.
I don't think I get Pinterest. The Internet tries to explain the point of the Most Important Website in the World, sometimes resorting to video and slideshows, but more often it just suggests, as USA Today did, that you "find the nearest twenty- or thirtysomething woman. She'll likely know what's up and can tell you about it. IF SHE CAN STOP PINNING" — emphasis mine, because I look forward to seeing Jeff van Vonderen handle that intervention. I see what Pinterest does. I just pinned, like five minutes ago. I know that I am supposed to feel something, but I don't, and am left suspended in the moment when the world cruelly proved that there was no such creature as the gangster Nancy Sinatra.
