Friday, October 30, 2009

Robbing Paris To Pay Brian Austin Green

When fake news starts seeming more plausible than real news, I think we have a problem.

Can I get a witness? Apparently, there has been a rash of buglaries in Hollywood. The victims? Fluffy girl-type celebrities in the general stripe of Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and Megan Fox. Also, Brian Austin Green (he of 90210: Original Flavour fame), whose handgun was returned to him without him ever noticing it had been burgled in the first place. Brrr. American gun control laws are scary. The alleged criminal masterminds are a foursome of teenaged girls, who, according to the Fug Girls, used celebrity gossip sites like to stake out their targets' homes.

To which I say: what? No, seriously. This sounds like something The Onion would have concocted, along with their report on the gays and their unceasing co-opting of the animal kingdom. In a way, it's a brilliant comment on our culture's obsession with celebrities, the information era, the creation of person-as-commodity-who-then-sells-something, and other boring meta crap. In another way, it's totally bizarre and weird.

I'm a good mid-twenties citizen; I watch The Daily Show and watch Jon Stewart comment on the commenting. It works, too: he's funny, astute, and incredibly smart when it comes to reporting on the pandemic of falling down on the job the rest of the news media seems to be suffering from. But he (thankfully) leans towards the political side of things; so far, he's stayed away from the Balloon Boy shenanigans, or from inviting "reality" TV stars like those idiots from The Hills onto his show.

I mean, it's just too meta. The things we think are real turn out to be scripted; the events most likely to be scripted are actually totally legit. This girl gang and their movie-of-the-week shenanigans are the perfect blend of real and fake, gossip and news, private and public. It's really too bad that the best commentators of celebrity culture - including one hotshot by the name of Johnny Dangerous - are probably going to jail. Hell, Winona got sprung - why not these broads?

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


I love walking around town. Not for transportation - for that, I use my trusty (if slightly rusty) iron horse - but getting outside, especially during these blowsy, sexy fall days, is such a treat. It's almost like we have to save up some of this outdoorsy time for February, when it'll be mostly cabin fever and wet feet.

Anyway, this is one of my favourite times of year. Brisk at night, balmy during the day, with the added enjoyment of not sweating though all my clothes every single day. Jackets! Little chapeaux! Boots! I mean, I've sworn allegiance to the mighty flippy-floppies like a good university student, but since I found a pair of Frye boots on the sidewalk a couple months ago, I've been longing for a season in which to wear them. You can't wear to-the-knee leather boots in August. It's revolting.

So yeah: fall walks. I was in Niagara Falls last weekend, staying at the totally airless Embassy Suites. The only saving grace - aside from the admittedly exceptional bath tub - was the walk down to the Falls themselves. Yeah, the whole areas is schlocky as all hell, but just being outside, in the mist, seeing the raw thunderous power of nature? Pretty sweet. That walk totally saved my ass from being full, bored, desperate for oxygen, and cooped up in a 42-story hotel where the only food came from The Keg or a ridiculously awful T.G.I.Friday's. Barf.

Last night, I got to go for a lengthy walk with a friend. I think we strolled between Bloor and College about four times (bank, music store, bar, etc.), stopped for some playground action, peed in some alleyways, and generally had a good old late-October time of things. This city is fun, yo. Plus, sushi will make you full; what better way to burn through some of that ride than a brisk walk?

In any case, I know that, soon enough, the weather will be deeply unpleasant. I'll spend even more time in bed, rolling around under the covers "reading" (read: sleeping) and trying to stay warm. Thank the Jesus man for duvets. And fall walks. And those gigantic bathtubs last weekend. Those things were off the chain, boy.