Meet Ash: Your New Weekend Editor!

I’m a pop culture junkie who just graduated from college, moved to LA and rediscovered the magic of television. Because seriously, who has time to keep up with the Kardashians—or any of our favorite celebrities—amidst midterms, internships, rush week and grad school applications? Well from now on, I’m gonna make sure that you do.

Read the rest on CollegeCandy.com and, while you’re there, leave a prayer at my altar to old school Lindsay Lohan. Can her career make a comeback? THE LIMIT DOES NOT EXIST.

After four seasons of Sunday dinners, shots and sexcapades—in different continents and with a revolving seventh housemate—I still watch Jersey Shore. Not because I want to be them in any way (seriously, I’ve stopped wearing so much bronzer as of late), but because it’s a phenemon that took pop culture by storm. Fist pumping is now a permanent dance move, Ed Hardy shirts are officially unwearable; the letters GTL aren’t randomized from the alphabet and gorillas aren’t just jungle animals anymore. The extreme side of Seasode is piece of millennia Americana and it will be imitated forever, like Saturday Night Fever, The Breakfast Club and 90210. Our kids will ask us what it was like to watch the original episodes air on MTV…I mean, they’re already dressing up like them for Halloween! I don’t think the show would’ve lifted off as quickly and as loudly if it weren’t for abdominal display case and marketing genius, Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino. His decision to name his six-pack made him unforgettable and the show even easier to mock, and also lead housemates to coin terms for hook ups, friends-of-hook-ups-who-aren’t-hot, dance moves and whatever else they could get their unique lingo on. He was Pauly D’s main man, Sam’s controversial confidant and king of the Jersey Shore smush room. …but that was a long time ago. Since the first season, every girl has lost weight and every guy has upped the scoreboard. Snooki wrote a book, Pauly D released some tracks, JWoww had a fashion line for a while and Deena finally got on the show. And it’s sad that the show’s first frontman is now the last person in the room who everyone leaves and the second person they’re serious about actually evicting. All season, he’s seemed more lonely and depressed than ever before: clashing with everyone in the house, picking fights with anyone outside the house and not having anywhere to go in between. Reality television may not be “real” but the people still are. They are their own characters and screenwriters and acting coaches and directors; they bring their work home with them because they are that piece of work. It may not take as much skill or talent as actual acting, but I feel like the emotional investment is pretty sizable, growing exponentially with the rate of your fame. Since the genre is still relatively new in the history of television, the effects are only starting to reveal themselves: Newlyweds filmed a broken marriage, Teen Mom lead to a serious suicide scare. It’s just sad to watch a person decay, right before your eyes. And yet, its millions of viewers can’t look away. Though last night’s episode was slipped with understated drama that seems bound to blow up, I also gotta remember that it’s an old cliffhanger trick of clever editing. Oh, and that it isn’t taped in real time since Season 5 is already wrapped. And if my roommates and I were paid $100,000 per episode to play around in Italy, I’d stir up some juice too. Once I rewrap my head around the unrealities of reality television, I realize The Situation’s gonna be justtttttt fine.
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After four seasons of Sunday dinners, shots and sexcapades—in different continents and with a revolving seventh housemate—I still watch Jersey Shore. Not because I want to be them in any way (seriously, I’ve stopped wearing so much bronzer as of late), but because it’s a phenemon that took pop culture by storm. Fist pumping is now a permanent dance move, Ed Hardy shirts are officially unwearable; the letters GTL aren’t randomized from the alphabet and gorillas aren’t just jungle animals anymore. The extreme side of Seasode is piece of millennia Americana and it will be imitated forever, like Saturday Night Fever, The Breakfast Club and 90210. Our kids will ask us what it was like to watch the original episodes air on MTV…I mean, they’re already dressing up like them for Halloween!

I don’t think the show would’ve lifted off as quickly and as loudly if it weren’t for abdominal display case and marketing genius, Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino. His decision to name his six-pack made him unforgettable and the show even easier to mock, and also lead housemates to coin terms for hook ups, friends-of-hook-ups-who-aren’t-hot, dance moves and whatever else they could get their unique lingo on. He was Pauly D’s main man, Sam’s controversial confidant and king of the Jersey Shore smush room.

…but that was a long time ago. Since the first season, every girl has lost weight and every guy has upped the scoreboard. Snooki wrote a book, Pauly D released some tracks, JWoww had a fashion line for a while and Deena finally got on the show. And it’s sad that the show’s first frontman is now the last person in the room who everyone leaves and the second person they’re serious about actually evicting. All season, he’s seemed more lonely and depressed than ever before: clashing with everyone in the house, picking fights with anyone outside the house and not having anywhere to go in between.

Reality television may not be “real” but the people still are. They are their own characters and screenwriters and acting coaches and directors; they bring their work home with them because they are that piece of work. It may not take as much skill or talent as actual acting, but I feel like the emotional investment is pretty sizable, growing exponentially with the rate of your fame. Since the genre is still relatively new in the history of television, the effects are only starting to reveal themselves: Newlyweds filmed a broken marriage, Teen Mom lead to a serious suicide scare. It’s just sad to watch a person decay, right before your eyes. And yet, its millions of viewers can’t look away.

Though last night’s episode was slipped with understated drama that seems bound to blow up, I also gotta remember that it’s an old cliffhanger trick of clever editing. Oh, and that it isn’t taped in real time since Season 5 is already wrapped. And if my roommates and I were paid $100,000 per episode to play around in Italy, I’d stir up some juice too. Once I rewrap my head around the unrealities of reality television, I realize The Situation’s gonna be justtttttt fine.

“Is it that you believe that I am attention-seeking or shock for shock’s sake, or is it just that it’s been a long time since someone has embraced the art form the way that I have? Perhaps it’s been a couple of decades since there’s been an artist that’s been as vocal about culture, religion, human rights, politics. I’m so passionate about what I do, every bass line, every EQ. Why is it that you don’t want more from the artist, why is it that you expect so little, so when I give and give, you assume it’s narcissistic?”-Lady Gaga, Rolling Stone 5/27/2011  despite being raised in the LA area, the illuminated place where pop culture and smog are inevitably inhaled with every breath, i never had a true celebrity crush. while the walls of my sister’s bedroom were plastered with posters of Leo DiCaprio, Justin Timberlake and Keanu Reeves, mine remained blank. maybe i was just jaded too early, maybe i enjoyed the movies and the music more than the people behind them, or maybe i just couldn’t tell the difference between all the blonde pop stars and boys who allegedly dated them…but then again, was i supposed to? possibly. like when i was nine years old and echoing the lyrics of Christina Aguilera’s “genie in a bottle” and accidentally asking anyone in earshot to “come and rub me the right way, honey.” or when crop tops that cut off a hair below the stitches of a training bra were trendy after Britney Spears’ “sometimes” video first aired on TRL. back then, i had no idea what i was singing along to, i had no idea what i was watching. i had no idea what i was consuming and, to be honest, i don’t think those “artists” were really aware of what they were(n’t) producing either. with the exception of a brief infatuation i had over Shane West after A Walk to Remember, the celebrity/artist/pop-culture-figure/person who catches my admiration will always be Lady Gaga. i’m so thankful for someone who has utilized her platform for so much good, who hasn’t been consumed and completely commodified by the fame monster after three short yet explosive years in the light. she is someone who sees the BIG picture of every song, every music video, every tour; she sees the entire arch of her musical career and how she wants to impact the world. even more so, she also foresees every minute detail to execute her visions, including first releasing catchy songs with simple stories about just dancing and holding a good poker face, dropping cleverly layered hints about being a critical citizen in “paparazzi” and “telephone”, and finally broadcasting anthems of self-acceptance—right in the chorus that is constantly repeated in the song and on the radio—to a religion of the insecure, a population curated long ago by the “artists” before her and the media platforms they proudly stood upon. yet no good deed goes unpunished: her unswerving loyalty to an altruistic artistic vision is commonly labeled as a career of conceit, the ride of “a brilliant self-marketer who writes stellar hooks and looks good wearing items that appear to have been fished out of Karen O’s dumpster.” but amidst all the self-deprecating mantras that thrive in this world, why bash someone who is single-handedly trying to submit something different for a refreshing review? her third album of brave honesty is drenched in layers of nostalgic base lines, futuristic beats, revelational lyrics and uplifting attitudes. it’s not objectifying any body parts in nightlife settings, celebrating excess alcohol consumption or pining over another’s momentary affections. in a time period where more of our youth than ever is getting arrested and pregnant and homicidal and suicidal and diagnosed and addicted and bulimic and unhappy overall, and then watching all of it play back on television as entertaining reality shows, the fact that the title track “born this way” sounds like Madonna’s “express yourself” may not be the worst thing in the world…it could do some good, actually. do her songs sound a bit like something that’s already been done decades ago? if what at first only sounds like common beats and cliche chord progressions are nothing noteworthy according to your musical palate, then take a second listen. and a third because, let’s be honest: these tracks aren’t hibernating from airwaves anytime soon. and sure, though her songs give generous nods also to Grace Jones, Debbie Harry, Elton John, Marilyn Manson, Yoko Ono and more, no one criticizes britney or bieber or (insert r&b’s/rapper’s name here) when all of their songs sound all too similar within a single, lipsynced setlist (and to each other’s). in a postmodern pop culture where every SNL skit includes an impersonation and shows like family guy, south park and the simpsons can make scripts solely on allusions, is there anything even completely “original” anymore?  don’t get me wrong, i’m not suggesting we all worship her. she’s still human, after all. but damn, such bravery and, let’s face it, innovation, is already commended in every other industry. criticize her for being hailed as a god, or a queen? really, let’s check out own obsessions with celebrities altogether. why the heck are you reading my blog post about Lady Gaga instead of streaming live updates on the Joplin tornado or at least skimming headlines on the eight US troops killed in Afghanistan this morning?
Pop-upView Separately

“Is it that you believe that I am attention-seeking or shock for shock’s sake, or is it just that it’s been a long time since someone has embraced the art form the way that I have? Perhaps it’s been a couple of decades since there’s been an artist that’s been as vocal about culture, religion, human rights, politics. I’m so passionate about what I do, every bass line, every EQ. Why is it that you don’t want more from the artist, why is it that you expect so little, so when I give and give, you assume it’s narcissistic?”
-Lady Gaga, Rolling Stone 5/27/2011 

despite being raised in the LA area, the illuminated place where pop culture and smog are inevitably inhaled with every breath, i never had a true celebrity crush. while the walls of my sister’s bedroom were plastered with posters of Leo DiCaprio, Justin Timberlake and Keanu Reeves, mine remained blank. maybe i was just jaded too early, maybe i enjoyed the movies and the music more than the people behind them, or maybe i just couldn’t tell the difference between all the blonde pop stars and boys who allegedly dated them…but then again, was i supposed to?

possibly. like when i was nine years old and echoing the lyrics of Christina Aguilera’s “genie in a bottle” and accidentally asking anyone in earshot to “come and rub me the right way, honey.” or when crop tops that cut off a hair below the stitches of a training bra were trendy after Britney Spears’ “sometimes” video first aired on TRL. back then, i had no idea what i was singing along to, i had no idea what i was watching. i had no idea what i was consuming and, to be honest, i don’t think those “artists” were really aware of what they were(n’t) producing either.

with the exception of a brief infatuation i had over Shane West after A Walk to Remember, the celebrity/artist/pop-culture-figure/person who catches my admiration will always be Lady Gaga. i’m so thankful for someone who has utilized her platform for so much good, who hasn’t been consumed and completely commodified by the fame monster after three short yet explosive years in the light. she is someone who sees the BIG picture of every song, every music video, every tour; she sees the entire arch of her musical career and how she wants to impact the world. even more so, she also foresees every minute detail to execute her visions, including first releasing catchy songs with simple stories about just dancing and holding a good poker face, dropping cleverly layered hints about being a critical citizen in “paparazzi” and “telephone”, and finally broadcasting anthems of self-acceptance—right in the chorus that is constantly repeated in the song and on the radio—to a religion of the insecure, a population curated long ago by the “artists” before her and the media platforms they proudly stood upon.

yet no good deed goes unpunished: her unswerving loyalty to an altruistic artistic vision is commonly labeled as a career of conceit, the ride of “a brilliant self-marketer who writes stellar hooks and looks good wearing items that appear to have been fished out of Karen O’s dumpster.” but amidst all the self-deprecating mantras that thrive in this world, why bash someone who is single-handedly trying to submit something different for a refreshing review? her third album of brave honesty is drenched in layers of nostalgic base lines, futuristic beats, revelational lyrics and uplifting attitudes. it’s not objectifying any body parts in nightlife settings, celebrating excess alcohol consumption or pining over another’s momentary affections. in a time period where more of our youth than ever is getting arrested and pregnant and homicidal and suicidal and diagnosed and addicted and bulimic and unhappy overall, and then watching all of it play back on television as entertaining reality shows, the fact that the title track “born this way” sounds like Madonna’s “express yourself” may not be the worst thing in the world…it could do some good, actually.

do her songs sound a bit like something that’s already been done decades ago? if what at first only sounds like common beats and cliche chord progressions are nothing noteworthy according to your musical palate, then take a second listen. and a third because, let’s be honest: these tracks aren’t hibernating from airwaves anytime soon. and sure, though her songs give generous nods also to Grace Jones, Debbie Harry, Elton John, Marilyn Manson, Yoko Ono and more, no one criticizes britney or bieber or (insert r&b’s/rapper’s name here) when all of their songs sound all too similar within a single, lipsynced setlist (and to each other’s). in a postmodern pop culture where every SNL skit includes an impersonation and shows like family guy, south park and the simpsons can make scripts solely on allusions, is there anything even completely “original” anymore? 

don’t get me wrong, i’m not suggesting we all worship her. she’s still human, after all. but damn, such bravery and, let’s face it, innovation, is already commended in every other industry. criticize her for being hailed as a god, or a queen? really, let’s check out own obsessions with celebrities altogether. why the heck are you reading my blog post about Lady Gaga instead of streaming live updates on the Joplin tornado or at least skimming headlines on the eight US troops killed in Afghanistan this morning?

Thursday Throwdown: Snooki vs. Ne-Yo Remember how mad people were when the girls from The Hills were on the cover? Though I’m (sadly) a fan of both shows, I’m glad to see Ne-Yo speaking up about a publication’s compromising lack of authority in its original niche. However, I’m not really sure how he feels: it seems like he’s torn between blaming the magazine for going so far from music to sell more issues, and also trying to recover from shock that in today’s reality, maybe this tangential direction is where a music medium needs to go in order to keep a revenue. Isn’t that what MTV discovered ages ago? But to add insult to injury, the coverage presented by Los Angeles radio station KIIS FM completely sidesteps the issue: obviously, Ne-Yo doesn’t despise Snooki personally (at least, not in a way pertaining to this issue), but what she represents - no matter how sweet, funny and adorable Snooki may be, she is still a star of a reality show that has nothing to do with music (besides DJ Pauly D and their infamous fist-pumping). This conversation not only reveals that the cover of a magazine may no longer be a coveted place of authority, AND that an Internet post on a radio station will sacrifice the integrity of the artist and his justified point of view to collect more interaction on the online poll. Because the more people who answer the question, “Is Ne-Yo just jealous of Jersey Shore’s success, or is Snooki’s Rolling Stone cover a travesty?”, the larger numbers their publishers can show to potential advertisers, and convince them to place a few pricey pixels online. No wonder Ne-Yo spoke out over social media, it’s probably the most trustworthy platform where people can actually say what they want without crafty censorship or manipulative filtering! And, it’s perfect for speaking directly to an audience, the same audience who watches The Hills and Jersey Shore and convinced too many people in suits that we won’t put in our time or pull out our wallets unless one of our reality show heroines are in the headlines. I mean, that’s why I clicked the link on the radio’s website in the first place, and that might be why you’re reading this post. So then who should I really blame every time I see an orange-hued brunette riding a rocket as I wait for my coffee by a mag stand? I’ll be punishing myself for the rest of the month by not watching my favorite, guilty pleasure television show…until a new cover comes out, that is.
Pop-upView Separately

Thursday Throwdown: Snooki vs. Ne-Yo

Remember how mad people were when the girls from The Hills were on the cover? Though I’m (sadly) a fan of both shows, I’m glad to see Ne-Yo speaking up about a publication’s compromising lack of authority in its original niche. However, I’m not really sure how he feels: it seems like he’s torn between blaming the magazine for going so far from music to sell more issues, and also trying to recover from shock that in today’s reality, maybe this tangential direction is where a music medium needs to go in order to keep a revenue. Isn’t that what MTV discovered ages ago?

But to add insult to injury, the coverage presented by Los Angeles radio station KIIS FM completely sidesteps the issue: obviously, Ne-Yo doesn’t despise Snooki personally (at least, not in a way pertaining to this issue), but what she represents - no matter how sweet, funny and adorable Snooki may be, she is still a star of a reality show that has nothing to do with music (besides DJ Pauly D and their infamous fist-pumping). This conversation not only reveals that the cover of a magazine may no longer be a coveted place of authority, AND that an Internet post on a radio station will sacrifice the integrity of the artist and his justified point of view to collect more interaction on the online poll. Because the more people who answer the question, “Is Ne-Yo just jealous of Jersey Shore’s success, or is Snooki’s Rolling Stone cover a travesty?”, the larger numbers their publishers can show to potential advertisers, and convince them to place a few pricey pixels online.

No wonder Ne-Yo spoke out over social media, it’s probably the most trustworthy platform where people can actually say what they want without crafty censorship or manipulative filtering! And, it’s perfect for speaking directly to an audience, the same audience who watches The Hills and Jersey Shore and convinced too many people in suits that we won’t put in our time or pull out our wallets unless one of our reality show heroines are in the headlines. I mean, that’s why I clicked the link on the radio’s website in the first place, and that might be why you’re reading this post. So then who should I really blame every time I see an orange-hued brunette riding a rocket as I wait for my coffee by a mag stand? I’ll be punishing myself for the rest of the month by not watching my favorite, guilty pleasure television show…until a new cover comes out, that is.

currently listening to: her heart beat.

this time baby, ill be bulletproof.
I’ll be your commander.
and im only gonna break break, b-break break YOUR heart.

but when we laugh, when we dance, when we touch…
dynamite.
oh
my
god.
the dj got us fallin’ in love again,
it can’t be tamed.
I don’t wanna miss a single thing you do tonight.

baby, I like it. I-I-I like it.
all I ever wanted:
your love, your love. love all over me.
I better find your lovin’, I better find your heart.

…if it’s love,
no bull?
secrets?
“they ain’t got nothin on you, baby.”
I love the way you lie.

oh I, I swear, the world better prepare:
misery. nightmare. heartbreak warfare.
caught in a bad romance, round and round:
somebody to love,
love like crazy, and
there goes my baby.
your love is my drug, just the way you are.
i don’t know how I could do without, I just need you now.
in my head:
airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars,
I could really use a wish right now…

you and I were a teenage dream.
fine, fresh, fierce, we had it on lock.
but when a heart breaks, no, it don’t breakeven.
beautiful monster,
you lost me.
you’ve left me speechless, so speechless.
and there’s just no getting over you.
impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible.

…she won’t be lonely long.
this ain’t nothin! roll with it.
rain is a good thing:
bittersweet, the house that built me.

unthinkable? I’m ready.
yes, the only exception —
POWER.
I got the magic in me.
I’m ridin’ solo, ridin’ solo
and I’m not afraid.
I’m lookin’ at myself sober and all I do is win.
you can call all you want but there’s no one home and you’re not gonna reach my telephone.
but you probably won’t, you think you’re cooler than me.
eenie meenie,
who made you king of ANYTHING???