What Kanye West’s social media meltdown says about power, cancel culture and accountability
(02/28/22 1:00pm)
Kanye West is beefing with Peppa Pig. And Obama. And the cast of SNL. And Black History Month.
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Kanye West is beefing with Peppa Pig. And Obama. And the cast of SNL. And Black History Month.
Who shall be crowned white boy of the month? Herein lies the ultimate question confronting the human race: will it be Timothée Chalamet, the ventriloquist-dummy-adjacent breakout star of “Call Me By Your Name”? Or maybe Jacob Elordi, actor of the manipulative but sickeningly hot Public Enemy Number One Nate Jacobs of “Euphoria”?
My first encounter with mediocre Internet fame was set to the soundtrack of Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage.”
Put y’all's seatbelts on, because Addison Rae is allegedly attending the Met Gala.
North Carolina Tinder is weird. A cursory glance at my Tinder deck reveals three things: first, North Carolina guys like taking unappetizing fish pictures; second, there’s not many gay men in North Carolina; third, North Carolina guys are racist.
“LEAVE HER ALONE,” cries Chris Crocker. “LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!”
“The future is in your hands,” Dinesh D’Souza warns in “2016: Obama’s America.” Panned by critics as “skewed,” “sloppy” and a “shaggy, piecemeal right-wing screed,” the 2012 documentary was a speculative investigation into President Obama’s upbringing and political intentions. In one scene, D’Souza warns viewers of a foreboding future in which the supposedly anti-white, anti-American Obama plans to convert the Middle East into a “United States of Islam.”
Dakota Johnson’s Architectural Digest home tour is therapeutic. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls, basil green kitchen cabinetry, a cozy home office lined with Hollywood memorabilia and mid-century armchairs — these are the small details that brighten up my day.
The DailyMail has an unsettling obsession with Ariel Winter. A cursory glance at their newsfeed informs readers of every minute detail of her life, be it her “casual figure in a blue hoodie as she stocks up on cardboard boxes” or “her ample bust and toned legs in a plunging scarlet maxi dress.”
Megan Fox has been through a lot.
The only video game I have ever spent money on is “Kim Kardashian: Hollywood.” The 2014 role-playing saga was an enticing exploration into celebrity culture: players entered a fame-obsessed world of tabloid drama and invasive photographers, navigating the E-list in hopes of ascending to the upper echelons of celebrity royalty. For my 13 year-old self, spending real money on the game was a gateway into the Kardashian reality — a reality that, with the impending cancellation of “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” is now uncertain.
The format of “The Ellen DeGeneres Show” is amusingly predictable. She brings someone onto the stage — preferably a child prodigy or a teacher in need of new classroom desks — and gifts them an impressive sum of money or a flat-screen TV. The crowd erupts, the recipient embraces Ellen in a tight hug and Ellen, yet again, is deified for her generosity.