Afternoon Links: E! Asks Us What Would Ryan Lochte Do? in New Extended Trailer
By Tess Lynch at"You have to really put that infadence on the J [in jeah]." The trailer for What Would Ryan Lochte Do? has arrived.
"You have to really put that infadence on the J [in jeah]." The trailer for What Would Ryan Lochte Do? has arrived.
South by Southwest will always be the place where it all began.
My first trip to Austin for the festival, last year, was my first big assignment. The objective: go, do things, write about them. That's all. While that was important, it also was the first real example of my Internet world coming to life. Mysterious, funny Twitter handles suddenly drinking beers, wearing tank tops, and ferociously taking notes together on their phones. Finally.
After last year's 10-day bender came to an end, I knew that in addition to the new real-life colleagues whom I now refer to as "friends," I had also found my happy place. My adult summer camp. My extremely tiring vacation oasis. And, more than anything, I knew I was coming back the next year.
The lead-up to last year's SXSW was a very confusing time for me, because I didn't know what I was doing. About a week before the festival, fellow Grantland staffer Amos Barshad graciously sent me a giant spreadsheet that was making the rounds of every single thing that needed to be RSVP'd to, along with the amount of free food and drinks that would be supplied and which musicians would be in attendance. I was eternally grateful, because up until that point, I hadn't ventured beyond SXSW.com.
This year, I made the spreadsheet. I was ready, and even though the time between SXSW 2012 and 2013 had seemingly taken six years off my life, I was convinced I could do the full 10 days again, but even better. And if the high right ankle sprain, hoarse voice, wristband tan, scruffy face, and occasional dizzy spells are any indicator, I'd say that my goal was achieved.
Bob’s Burgers, Fox’s cutesy (in a good way) cartoon comedy, flattened Annie Clark out to 2D, and had her sing a jaunty punk-rock tune about good girls going bad (but like, by fighting with their moms, not by rolling blunts on the top of their security guard’s heads). You know, when I was a younger man, the best parts about being a rock star seemed like it would be all the girls and the money and the free cheese pizzas. These days, though, it's more these kind of things — getting a fun animated version of yourself; you know, something you can frame and hold in your hands, and one day look back and reflect on — that seem to be the real perks. And now if you'll excuse me, I have some milk to warm.
Big Boi (Daddy Fat Sax if you’re nasty), reads How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Season’s skeetings!
• Darren Aronofsky tweeted that he’ll be embarking on a Mayan holiday, where I’m sure plenty of good end-of-the-world parties will be available if you can’t afford to go to Moscow. Good luck getting that flaming serpent past airport security if we all make it to December 22.
Ah, the American Music Awards. For 40 years now they've been going strong, unspooling a rich populist music history. (Did you know that in 1974 Donny Osmond co-hosted with a 16-year-old Michael Jackson? Amazing.) And yet, every year, I totally forget they exist. But they do! And last night, the 2012 edition took place at the Nokia Theater in lovely Los Angeles, California. What went down?
US
Justin Timberlake's Bachelor Party: "Bros, brews and bow ties!" Timberlake celebrated "his final days of singledom" with all his closest dudes. "Clad in ties and fedoras, his crew of 25 pals (and his dad!) hit Las Vegas, where they tossed back drinks poolside." Justin probably brought his dad so that we'd all know this was a clean-cut bachelor party where no hookers would end up buried in the desert by the end. "It was like Boardwalk Empire." So it was kind of boring but looked really nice and probably cost a ton of money? "It was mellow. Intentionally so." They jetted from Vegas to Mexico where they played beach volleyball in T-shirts that said "CASTRATION CELEBRATION!" Sigh … "He didn't want to get in any trouble. Jessica's brother was with them!" Could this be a decoy bachelor party meant to distract from the real bachelor party that will take place soon in a sex dungeon in Amsterdam?
Mitt Romney on Snooki: "I'm kind of a Snooki fan. Look how tiny she's gotten. She's lost weight. She's energetic. Just her spark-plug personality is kind of fun." She's voting for Obama.
Kim K and Kanye: The couple went to Cannes together and "caught up, wandering the streets until 7 A.M., cherishing quiet time before the inevitable flashbulb frenzy at that evening premiere of West's short film, Cruel Summer." Fighting the rumors that their relationship is just a publicity stunt, friends say they "are the real deal." Kanye is "playing for keeps. He waited for Kim. He knows they're meant to be." She comforted his anxiety over the response to his film, while "he kept brushing her cheek and kissing her." While Kanye has gotten Kim to dress "more chic, with his advice," Kim's effect is that she's "making him gentler. He isn't so intense now." Why hate? They're perfect for each other.
Sean Penn: "I am constantly embarrassed by my own personality."
Kelly Ripa: "Going to Fiji is not marriage. Going to Costco is marriage."
James Franco's Commencement Speech: "Spread your eggs. Don't like eggs? Too bad."
Usher works his falsetto as he teams up with Diplo, who outfits this post-grown and sexy jam with sad electronic growls. Taking cues from minimal techno and The Weeknd's dark down-tempo R&B, "Climax" is a quiet storm that is less about climaxing, more about edgeplay on a late-night express train to nowhere.
Grade: A
Best YouTube Comment: "whenever I hear this song I look to the nearest person to me and look them in the eyes and whisper 'body roll,' then I body roll like nobody's business." — jmkeo44
Before DVRs, part of the charm of Saturday Night Live was that it created a sort of community of viewers — granted, the kind of community who didn’t have anywhere to be on a Saturday evening, so not necessarily a club you wanted to join four times a month. Its jokes became like prehistoric viral culture, a consolation prize to rehashing the best moments of the weekend’s rager. It gave you something to talk about at brunch (brunch sucks; I’m saying “brunch” hypothetically) at the dining hall if you’d been stuck inside all weekend writing a term paper and had missed the physical experience of the club, the bar, the house party. Its relevance has always been at least partially related to the repetition of catchphrases, pratfalls, and goof-ups, within the show (legions of “What Up With That”s, “MacGruber”s, “Church Lady”s) and without (the far-reaching effects of “More Cowbell” made it leap from the mirror like Bloody Mary; “More Cowbell” essentially slimed out of our televisions and entered society in 3-D). Ever since Saturday Night Live has been available for consumption as Sunday Morning Hangover or Wednesday Afternoon Lunch Break, and perhaps even more so since the introduction of the digital short in 2005 (Lettuce), it’s become somehow more satisfying to revisit, even as it so often revisits itself. That’s why this weekend’s episode with host Will Ferrell, and a self-fellating celebration of the 100th digital short, was so good.
A double dose of Diplo this week. First, check out “Express Yourself,” a solo track from the man of a million tastes that stars New Orleans bounce don Nicky Da B. Weirdly, unlike Lady Gaga's “Born This Way,” “Express Yourself” does not rip off Madonna's “Express Yourself.” Rather, it rips off Madonna's “La Isla Bonita.” Actually, it rips off A Tribe Called Quest's “Bonita Applebum.” Actually, it rips off the original design for Nelly's Apple Bottom Jeans. Actually, just listen to it.
Bill Simmons: Here are four minutes that will make you ask yourself things like, "Why am I enjoying this so much?" ... "Are these two just going to start humping on the stage?" ... "Is there any definitive way to figure out who had a worse hairdo?"
