Welcome to the bleeding edge! It’s official, then…this “podcasting” thing is bloody hot!
low culture is proud to present the first, inaugural, premiere episode of “No Jacket Required”, a no-holds-barred look at contemporary arts and culture. This mp3/podcast/olde timey radio broadcast runs somewhere around eleven minutes: perfect for your commute home, downtime at work, or on constant repeat throughout your day (it’s possible to enjoy “No Jacket Required” over 130 times in the course of a 24-hour period).
You’ve come to rely on low culture for reasonably entertaining satire and comedy — now give “No Jacket Required” a try. Seriously, we think you’ll enjoy it. Earnestly, even.
And maybe it’ll explain why we’ve been so damned absent of late?
No Jacket Required, Ep. 1, 11:35, 10MB
Author: guy
Lindsay Lohan at some KIIS-FM event and Janis Joplin in mid-slur
Per low culture’s reliable sources deep within Skywalker Ranch, there’s a good reason Revenge of the Sith is getting such glowing reviews — Tom Stoppard wrote the script. Producer Rick McCallum insisted Lucas find a ghost writer, and Stoppard was the only writer Lucas wouldn’t interfere with.
[Confirmed here]
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More Hard Bodies for Your Monday
Tara Reid’s putty-like stomach
via ez board
Shakira’s “La Tortura”
Massive Attack’s “Karmacoma”
Christina Milian’s “Dip It Low”
Above: Scenes from Jonathan Glazer’s 1998 video for UNKLE’s Rabbit in Your Headlights
Below: Scenes from Timur Bekmambetov’s 2005 feature Night Watch
Previously: Twentieth Century Fox, Meet Award-Winning Director Chris Cunningham
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King of Kings or King of Pop?
Through all the accusations of pederasty, paedophilia, and boy-fucking, fans of both the Papacy and Michael Jackson have stood tall. Can you tell the difference? Click through for the answer.
Totally deaf human-person Marlee Matlin deserves to be given the hand gestures for enthusiastic applause and patronizing congratulation upon the news of her appointment to head a new, conservative imprint for Simon & Schuster. Despite Matlin’s complete inability to hear, and her limited ability to speak like a normal person, she has not only won a Special Academy Award but also managed to domesticate notorious pussy-hound James Carville. The two have become ubiquitous for their “opposites attract” romance: Carville is the classic Clinton-era liberal while Matlin is completely, defiantly deaf. They both starred in the cult classic K Street and have become poster children for people who have starred in K Street.
Because of Matlin’s handicapability, her as yet unnamed imprint will undoubtedly offer its conservative titles in Braille editions. And that presumptive breakthrough, shattering the conservative publishing industry’s notorious deaf-glass-ceiling, deserves enthusiastic, visually demonstrative applause.
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The low culture Vulture
Recently seen on the scene… Penelope Cruz in a photograph from an extravagant Oscar gala, partying with the likes of Salma Hayek and Julia Roberts… Ashton Kutcher on the side of a bus, advertising his new film Guess Who… Lauren Graham on ABC Family’s 11 am showing of Gilmore Girls… Lizzie Grubman in the post just below this one…
Send your seen on the scenes to low culture!
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Brief Thoughts on PoweR Girls
For those who didn’t witness the grand guignol debut of MTV’s PoweR Girls, the show follows four primped PR interns and Lizzie Grubman – the suppurating spin doctor, that leathery, bottle-blonde grotesquerie – who is established as the show’s object of aspiration. It seemed impossible that a reality-show godhead could get more nauseating than short-fingered vulgarian Donald Trump, but with PoweR Girls, MTV’s endlessly innovative programming incubi have found reality TV’s latest emetic. Is it Lizzie’s factory-made face, the impossible sense of entitlement, or, lest we forget, the fact that she drove Daddy’s Mercedes into a crowd of people?
To her credit, neither Lizzie’s nature nor her nurture is all that – her father (who represents Barry Manilow) has a portrait of his wife’s nether region hanging over the bed – seriously. And she is the one who discovered hip-hop.
For a group of people whose entire job is to kiss ass, these women don’t quite manage to ingratiate themselves to the audience. The half-hour was enough to make me wish her offices weren’t on Lafayette but were instead in the World Trade Center. PoweR Girls was like watching a quick-cut adaptation of Bret Ellis’ Glamorama, but at least you could imagine those ciphers were attractive – with Power Girls we get four repellant wannabe’s and one revolting queen bee. God knows I’ll watch it next week – it was excellent.