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Thursday, June 06, 2002

 

Useless Polychromatic Info Dept.


Watching the White Stripes on the MTV Movie Awards provides a disturbingly close visual analog to shopping at Target.
If you don't "feel me," as the kids might say, flip on the MTV and take a look. The Movie Awards (extended parenthetical run, watch your heads!hey, kids, it's MTV's hip, young, and irreverent version of the Oscars! Where celebrities can go on TV to air-fuck each other and groom Gen-Y and Gen-Z [how f'ing old are Gen-Z'ers anyway? Are they the ones watching the Pokemon/Digimon/Sanitized Japanimation that I see everywhere?] to flip into the Big Boring Air-Fucking Pat-On-The-Back-A-Thon that enslaves the populace once a year when it's still cold out back East.) will be broadcast roughly on a daily basis from now until the ice caps greenhouse-flood us all into a New Atlantis. I'm somewhat shocked that MTV would go anywhere near a band one-third as cool as the Stripes with a ten-foot barbershop pole.
But these awards are something of a pop-culture necessity, and I do love me the pop-culture. Where else is Viacom going to fete such wonderful flicks as A Knight's Tale, Pearl Harbor, and Queen of the Damned (that Aaliyah sure could act, you know, before). And Mandy Moore run away with the online poll for Best Dressed. It's so touching how's she's getting some recognition after going brunette and chopping down her locks to distance herself from Britney "The Queen of All Faux-Virginal Jailbait" Spears.
Maybe this is just a reaction to the fact that I'm now a couple of years on the wrong side of 25 and have tumbled hopelessly out of their target demographic, try as I may to cling on to my TV-youth through The Osbournes, Cribs (nothing turns me on more than a rapper who has a 24K gold bathtub while I have a job without health insurance), and The Real World. Hell, I think that I'm getting too old for VH-1 (sloagan: We're Not Just "Behind the Music"--We Have Divas IV!) as they're playing Incubus videos now. --Sigh.--
An MTV Did You Know: College kids don't know who Kennedy is.
--Deep Sigh of Existential Crisis--
I just need to close my eyes and let Jack Black do his magic. They could have gotten Lance Bass before he's jettisoned into oribit.



About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
If You Like Bunsen, Then You'll Love Bunsen
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