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Snow Update: It's Happening

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Snow Update: It's Happening Since spring is just around the corner, it makes sense that a big old snow storm is upon us. According to the windows and some weather reports, heavy snow is falling across the tri-state area. Snow will fall until midday and might pile up between one to three inches will fall on New York City. In addition to lovely fresh snow, watch out for wave surges up the New England coast, particularly in Massachusetts—which should reach 19 feet, making tides about three feet above normal levels. This will most likely cause some serious flooding. Unlike the excitable father pictured above, President Obama is not amused:

[CBS, image via AP, from 2000]


The Good Times Are Back, For Some!

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The Good Times Are Back, For Some!The stock market is reaching new highs every day. Unemployment is at a four year low. Companies are paying higher dividends than ever before. All the wealth lost in the Great Recession has been regained. The consumer is back! Strong banks are back! Real estate development is back! Luxury spending is back! The future is bright! Everyone, everywhere, cobble together what money you can, and spend! Buy! Invest!

Goodbye, recessionomics! Goodbye, recovernomics! Say hello to the new boom times! Times are booming! Boom, boom, boom! Get on board or be left behind!

The good times are here*, for a while.

*For some.

[Pic: 1laurakr/ Instagram via RKOI]

Kindergarten Teacher Terminated After Bringing Vial of Her Blood to Class, Letting Children Taste It

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Kindergarten Teacher Terminated After Bringing Vial of Her Blood to Class, Letting Children Taste It

As many as a dozen children attending a kindergarten in the western Norwegian town of Sola may have sampled some blood that a teacher brought into class for show and tell.

According to Inger Lise Andersen, director of the Dravhaug kindergarten, the unnamed teacher had returned from a visit to the doctor, where she asked a nurse if she could have some of her blood in a vial to take with her to class.

During the children's "sharing time," the teacher reportedly brought out the vial, and poured its contents into a plate for the kids to pass around.

"The children asked if they could touch it and she allowed them," Andersen told Reuters. "Then they asked 'how do we get it off?' so she put her finger in her mouth and the children followed suit."

It's unclear how many of the 12 children in attendance actively participated in the tasting portion of the lesson, but the kindergarten has already sent the blood to be tested for HIV/AIDS and other blood-borne illnesses.

The teacher has since apologized for her actions but was terminated nonetheless.

[screengrab via YouTube]

South Dakota Is Now Allowing Teachers to Carry Guns in Classrooms

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South Dakota Is Now Allowing Teachers to Carry Guns in ClassroomsSouth Dakota may be last in the nation by a variety of education measures—but soon it'll be first in the only measure that counts: guns! Gov. Dennis Daugaard just signed into law a bill that would allow teachers to carry guns into the classroom—the first such bill in the country to make it into law:

About two dozen states have proposed similar bills since the shootings in December at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn., but all of them have stalled.

Supporters say that the measure signed by Mr. Daugaard, a Republican, is important in a rural state like South Dakota, where some schools are many miles away from emergency responders. Opponents, which have included the state school board association and teachers association, say this is a rushed measure that does not make schools safer.

Yes: a stunning example of a state government putting students first and coordinating resources to improve its schools. What could go wrong here?

[NYT; image via AP]

'A Couple of Boobs': The Tabloid Epic and the Headline That Could Not Be Contained

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'A Couple of Boobs': The Tabloid Epic and the Headline That Could Not Be ContainedThis is the story of star-crossed lovers. This is the story of a newspaperman's last days. This is the story of A COUPLE OF BOOBS.

Shayna Sykes is a 23-year-old from Macungie, Pennsylvania. She has a seven-month-old daughter, Zoey, with her fiancee, 24-year-old Blake Bills. She describes herself as a "hardcore" Woody Allen fan on Twitter and recently got a foot tattoo that reads "Live fast DIE PRETTY." She also has A COUPLE OF BOOBS.

Last Friday, Shayna asked to borrow her grandmother Sharon's car. Blake had an appointment with his lawyer, Shayna said, so the young parents, who'd both had legal troubles in the past, left Macungie with Sharon's 2003 Mazda Protege. They never returned.

Shayna Sykes and Blake Bills wouldn't be seen again until two days later, 60 miles and one state away, in Camden, New Jersey, when a police officer witnessed them trying to buy drugs in grandma's Mazda. He tried to stop them, but they fled the scene. The cop sped after them, only to lose their trail when his car flipped.

That was Sunday. On Tuesday morning, Camden officer Sekou Reid-Bey was engaged in a routine traffic stop when a man and a woman jumped into his unattended cop car and drove off. A 16-year veteran of the Jersey force, he tried to run after them, but the driver hit him, breaking his leg. Blake was behind the wheel, with Shayna in the passenger seat.

'A Couple of Boobs': The Tabloid Epic and the Headline That Could Not Be Contained

Police successfully cornered the stolen police car approximately 30 minutes later, across the Delaware River, in Philadelphia. But as officers took Blake into custody, Shayna slipped away and jumped into one of their unattended vehicles, leading them on the kind of cartoony chase bloggers turn into a series of gifs. She mowed down a pedestrian, sideswiped three parked cars, and rammed into a delivery truck before her ride caught fire and she was violently slammed against a police-car trunk. (Highlights, courtesy of Philly Mag, are here.)

"I never heard of anyone stealing two police cars in one incident," Philadelphia Deputy Police Commissioner Richard Ross told NBC.

The true-crime tale was unbelievable: Two stolen cop cars! A two-state police chase. Two suspects charged with a litany of offenses! So many bad decisions, you might even say they'd acted like ... two idiots? A tandem of nitwits?

Or: A COUPLE OF BOOBS.

"It was an amazing story," said Philadelphia Daily News news editor Kevin Bevan over the phone this week. Bevan doesn't know exactly who found the Facebook photo of Blake Bills in a tank top and Shayna Sykes in what looks like a bikini top—whether it was Daily News graphics editor Jon Snyder, or reporter Stephanie Farr, or if it'd already been floating around online. But once that image had been identified as Wednesday's possible cover, there it was, tabloid destiny, bright as two beach balls:

'A Couple of Boobs': The Tabloid Epic and the Headline That Could Not Be Contained

"We were just batting it around and that came out," Bevan said. "Everybody in the newsroom said, 'Oh yeah, this is great.'" Although Bevan wrote the headline, he said the cover was a team effort that included help from Facebook, page designer Jon Snyder, and the paper's editor in chief. "We gotta hand it to the editor, Michael Days, who is willing to push the envelope and take it to the limit."

Bevan's colleagues considered the double entendre "genius." Jim Romenesko's media blog captioned it, without comment, as the "Cover of the Day." The message was so effective that at least one of Shayna's Facebook friends began fielding inquiries about her breasts.

But why did the Daily News choose A COUPLE OF BOOBS rather than A PAIR OF BOOBS, a headline with fewer characters? "We did go back and forth between 'pair' and 'couple,'" Bevan said. "A PAIR OF BOOBS, frankly, seemed a little too gynecological."

Sykes and Blake, it turns out, weren't the only ones making a flamboyant getaway. This was Bevan's last week at the Philadelphia Daily News. With 31 years at the paper—where he'd come after the Philadelphia Bulletin shuttered in 1982—Bevan was one of the staff's respected veterans who opted to take a recently offered buyout. Before we spoke, he'd been cleaning out his desk.

A COUPLE OF BOOBS was one hell of a microphone drop, as one wise Gawker editor pointed out. Would Bevan have gone with something this bold if his employment didn't have an expiration date? "Sure," he insisted. "There's always there's the possibility that it's out on the newsstand and somebody's gonna say, 'You've gone too far.' We have this dare-to-fail attitude that we're willing to take that chance. In this case, it worked out."

Alternate headlines suggested by Gawker in-house experts: FUCK YOU, JOURNALISM and BAZONGAS, PEACE!

[Philadelphia Daily News via Romenesko]

Faux Fur Pas: Saks, Bergdorf Goodman, Bloomingdale's, and Century 21 Found Guilty of Mislabeling Real Fur Coats as Faux

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Faux Fur Pas: Saks, Bergdorf Goodman, Bloomingdale's, and Century 21 Found Guilty of Mislabeling Real Fur Coats as Faux

A five-month undercover investigation conducted by the Humane Society found that major Manhattan department stores were guilty of failing to label fur on their coats. This is in violation of New York state law that went into a effect a year ago, that requires all real fur to be labeled clearly so consumers understand what they are purchasing. If an item of clothing contains any real fur, the label must clearly detail the kind of fur and the country of origin.

Saks, Bergdorf Goodman, Bloomingdale's, and Century 21 were all found selling clothing that wasn't properly labeled as contained fur—from the hoods of winter coats to an infant's sweater containing rabbit fur. Marc Jacobs coats labeled as "faux" were revealed to be made of pelts of raccoon dogs. The Humane Society reports that unlabeled fur usually comes from raccoon dogs, foxes, and rabbits usually raised in poor and abusive conditions in China; cruelty to raccoon dogs is particularly harsh and often these animals are not killed before their pelts are removed.

The investigative video reveals that sales people often don't know the origin of the fur and are unaware of the law. Tufting of the fur and the presence of skin at the base can reveal what is real and what is actually faux.

Century 21 has defended itself on its Facebook page, writing:

"Century 21 does not create garment labels, the manufacturers do. It is the manufacturer's responsibility to provide an accurate account of materials used in the garment and to be transparent with the consumer before his or her purchase. We respect the diligence of the The Humane Society of the United States to uphold state and federal laws in regards to garment labeling."

[Daily Mail, image via Getty]

International Men's Day Is November 19, You Morons

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International Men's Day Is November 19, You MoronsHappy International Women's Day! If you're wondering—as so many on Twitter are—when International Men's Day is celebrated, a quick Google search reveals: November 19. Just a heads up!

Previously: International Men's Day Is November 19, You Idiots. Image via Shutterstock

Oversharing Dude Gets Vibrating Dildo Stuck Up His Ass, Livetweets Trip to ER [UPDATED with X-Ray]

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Oversharing Dude Gets Vibrating Dildo Stuck Up His Ass, Livetweets Trip to ER [UPDATED with X-Ray]

Guess who has at least one thumb and got a vibrating dildo stuck up his ass? Twitter user televised snowmang.

The oversharing enthusiast announced last night to his several hundred Twitter followers (a number that grew exponentially thereafter) that he'd somehow managed to get a vibrating dildo stuck inside his body and needed medical assistance to remove it.

What followed was a TMI livetweet to end all TMI livetweets (sorry Women's Memorial Hermann Hospital at Memorial City Medical Center in Houston):

In between insisting the entire ordeal was all too real (but not that painful), @Grawly dropped a few photos to authenticate his story, including one of the X-ray machine that snapped a pic of his shame, and one of an ironic ad that aired on the hospital's TV set while he was awaiting the dildo's extraction.

The definitive proof — the X-ray itself — is forthcoming, snowmang vowed in his latest Tweet, so hold on to something.

UPDATE: And here it is:


[H/T: The Daily Dot, photo via Twitter]


Boy Meets World Star Danielle Fishel Sheds Childhood Innocence, Clothes for Latest Issue of Maxim

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Boy Meets World Star Danielle Fishel Sheds Childhood Innocence, Clothes for Latest Issue of Maxim

Topanga Lawrence is all grown up — and stripping down for a men's magazine.

Former child star Danielle Fishel graces the cover of Maxim's latest issue, oddly enough, as part of a promotional campaign for the upcoming Disney-produced sequel to Boy Meets World.

Boy Meets World Star Danielle Fishel Sheds Childhood Innocence, Clothes for Latest Issue of Maxim

If your inner 13-year-old can look away from the decidedly un-Disney photo spread long enough to read the magazine's interview with Fishel, you may learn that she and Ben Savage never actually dated IRL.

"We went on one date, when I was about 15," she tells Maxim, "and by the time the dinner was over we realized mutually that we were more like family than lovers."

Which is perfect, because Fishel and Savage have both been tapped to play the role of parents to the protagonist in Girl Meets World, which is scheduled to premiere later this year.

[image via Maxim]

Gas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin Bieber

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Gas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin BieberThe baddest kid you ever babysat, Justin Bieber, has had a really weird week. It kicked off last Friday with the 19th birthday he had been hyping on Twitter for days—a birthday he would later describe in a (now deleted) tweet as the "worst birthday ever." Since then, a friend on another continent has crashed his $100,000 custom car. He's been hospitalized, for either shortness of breath or drastically low levels of public sympathy. Today, he lunged at a paparazzi like a baby flying squirrel and threatened to "fucking beat the fuck out of" him. Earlier in the week, he had a kebab at 6 a.m.

It's been such a weird, action-packed few days, that even Justin Bieber might have trouble sorting it out.

Which is why we bring you: The Week in Biebz.

Friday March 1 (morning): A Sweater Made of Skin

Gas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin BieberGas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin BieberGas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin Bieber Gas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin Bieber Gas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin Bieber Gas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin BieberGas Masks, Angel Wings and Fainting Spells: The Week We Lost Justin BieberFrom top: Bieber on March 1; Bieber in concert earlier that night; Bieber in gas mask on March 6; Bieber after fainting on March 7; Bieber threatening a photographer on March 8; two more shots of Bieber on March 1; and Bieber, in happier times before his weird week, on February 27. All photos via WENN.com.

After performing a show in Birmingham on Thursday night, Justin Bieber returns to his London hotel at 3 a.m. Despite the winter weather (the low temperature on Friday was 37°F), Bieber makes the trip from his car to the hotel shirtless, his brief-clad bottom hanging all the way out of his saggy leather sweatpants. The leather sweatpants are worn for no apparent reason, as warmth is clearly not important to him and they cause him to walk like the Unclean son of Marky Mark and a gorilla. He is later photographed eating kebabs in a Lebanese restaurant at 6 a.m.

Friday March 1 (afternoon): Bad Karma

Justin Bieber's friend Lil Twist is pulled over by police in California while driving Bieber's Fisker Karma. (Bieber received the car, rumored to have cost at least $100,000 on the Ellen show one year ago as a birthday present.) Lil Twist receives a ticket because the custom tint job on the car's windows is too dark.

Note: Lil Twist was driving another of Bieber's cars earlier this year when a paparazzo tailing him was struck and killed by another vehicle.

Friday March 1 (night): The Worst Birthday Ever

Justin Bieber is unable to enter a club with a group of his underage friends, possibly including Will Smith's 14-year-old son, Jaden. Justin Bieber observes on Twitter that this has been the "worst birthday ever."

Monday March 4: A Loofah's Lament

Justin Bieber arrives on stage two hours late (according to witnesses) or 40 minutes late (according to Justin Bieber) for a show at London's O2 Arena. The next day, Justin sends out a series of tweets blaming his lateness on "technical issues," apologizing to "anyone upset" and repeatedly remarking that his relationship with the media is not "easy."

Various British papers publish comments allegedly from concert workers who say that Bieber came onstage late because he was playing video games and then, already behind schedule, refused to perform until he had showered.

Many attendees reportedly have to leave the show before Bieber takes the stage at 10:23 (7 minutes before the show was originally scheduled to end), in order to catch trains home. Parents rip into him on Twitter.

Tuesday March 5: A BFF's Big Fuck-Up

Friend of Bieber and Enemy of Cars Lil Twist crashes the Fisker Karma he is borrowing into some cement poles at a liquor store. According to TMZ, shortly after the accident, a BMW pulls into the parking lot, and Lil Twist and his passengers pick up all the pieces that have fallen off the Fisker and put them in the BMW. The men then pull away, leaving the Fisker behind. This story is not reported in the media until Thursday.

Wednesday March 6: A Passing Gas Mask

Justin Bieber goes on an extended, intermittently coherent Twitter rant, blasting rumors (the concept) and serving God ("but know this...im only judged by one power, and i serve him").

That night, he walks into London's ritzy Mr. Chow restaurant wearing a gas mask. This is the second appearance of Bieber's gas mask on the London trip; he was also photographed wearing one while shopping on February 25. Gas masks have not been so in vogue in London since WWII.

Thursday March 7: The Fainting Couch

Justin Bieber reportedly collapses backstage during a London performance and is treated with oxygen. His manager takes the stage to announce that Justin was instructed to go to the hospital but has chosen to continue the concert FOR THE FAAAAAAAANS.

Laster, Bieber posts a shirtless picture of himself lying on a hospital bed to Instagram, with the caption "Gettin better listening to Janice Joplin."

Some people question whether the alleged collapse was a ploy to stem the wave of bad press the singer has begun receiving. Here's a video of Bieber pausing for breath shortly before exiting the stage.

Fucking Friday March Fucking 8: "I'll Fucking Beat the Fuck Out of You"

Rocked back to health by Dr.Janice Joplin, Justin Bieber is in fine fighting form. As the singer hurries from his hotel into his SUV, a paparazzo begins yelling at his security guards, who have pushed photographer out of the way in order to clear a path for Justin. All of a sudden, Justin jumps out of the car and squeaks at him: "What the fuck'd you say? What'd you say? I'll fucking beat the fuck out of you!" while a security guard "restrains" him. The effect is very Malibu's Most Wanted. TMZ has a hilarious video.

Focus on Fashion

Here is a partial list of the raiments with which Justin Bieber adorned his body during while in London:
Baggy leopard print pants (brown), baggy leopard print pants (purple), leopard print sneakers, leopard print backpack worn by both straps, a velour bomber jacket, bright blue leather drawstring sweatpants, black leather pants, very few shirts, a gas mask, Jesus' head cast in diamonds (necklace), a cream-colored knitted cardigan, a hat commemorating 1994, giant gunmetal grey angel wings (on stage), and a Brooklyn Nets baseball cap (Go Nets!).

He's due in Lisbon next Monday.

Fat Dancing Speedo Man Is the Hero We Both Need and Deserve

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With a running time of nearly five minutes, this video is a bit on the long side for a viral, but stick with it, if only to watch as a middle-aged, beer-bellied, speedo-sporting Russian dance-floor maniac schools an entire pool-side step class on the fine art of living life without a single fuck in sight.

On second thought — good luck looking away.

[video via Daily Picks and Flicks]

Bloomberg is Annoyed with Movie Trailers and "Video Games—for Adults!"

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Bloomberg is Annoyed with Movie Trailers and "Video Games—for Adults!" Old grumbles Bloomberg watched what might have been the tenth film he has seen in his life, and he was borderline outraged with all that nonsense that comes before it. The parade of theatrical trailers did not amuse the "easily bored" Mayor.

Here's his take on the face of contemporary entertainment, the mediated political system, and intellectual maturity of the American consumer:

"I sat through an hour of trailers, and every one was stupider than the other. And then there were these ads for video games - for adults! And you want to know why we're dumbing down politics."

Bloomberg groused to a writer from M magazine, a quarterly men's fashion magazine, in an interview published last week. Possible theory: because he was watching the sensationally lengthy Les Miserables, he might have been misdirecting some annoyance without wanting to pile on Hathaway.

Bloomberg was also biting the hand that feeds him—publicly, Mayor Bloomberg is a champion of the film and television industry in New York which bring in about $7 billion a year of economic activity to the city, according to Bloomberg's office.

But he really doesn't only have it in for fiction films, Bloomberg continued to rant about the whole face of media generally:

"I don't see any difference between a newspaper on the Internet and a blog. It confuses everything and takes away the difference. People are getting their news from sitcoms and from movies with a political agenda. They're even getting information from games!"

Again with those pesky games! They will be the downfall of the American intellectual, if Bloomberg can have the last word about it.

[AV Club, image via AP]

'Best Restaurant in the World' Offers Ants, Roe, and Horrible Diarrhea Illness

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'Best Restaurant in the World' Offers Ants, Roe, and Horrible Diarrhea Illness Say whatever nasty things you'd like about chicken-fried bro-chef Guy Fieri and his loathed Times Square feed trough, at least it hasn't made dozens and dozens of people violently ill like the best restaurant in the world.

Noma is a famously exclusive two-Michelin-star restaurant in Copenhagen. It serves things like ants and "Potatoes and bleak fish roe." It also offers a 12-course tasting menu for $880. The food is so good, in fact, that Noma topped the S. Pellegrino and Acqua Panna list of the world's best restaurants in 2010, 2011 and 2012. But don't let all those accolades fool you, because apparently Noma still employs the same kind of unhygienic slobs the "foodies" who throng Noma might expect to find in a San Antonio Arby's.

According to Danish health authorities, more than 60 people fell ill with vomiting and diarrhea after feasting at Noma last month, thanks, it is believed, to a sick kitchen employee who was tainting all the food. Health inspectors have criticized Noma for not alerting them sooner and for not "taking proper action" after finding out its employee was sick, according to NBC News. Noma's general manager says he has contacted everyone who the restaurant made unwell and promised them compensation for their woes.

Noma remains open. If you're in Copenhagen and willing to drop a grand for ants and fish eggs, bon appetit.

[Image via Flickr user acme]

Oh My God: The First Promo for Louis C.K.'s HBO Special Is the Greatest

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To promote his upcoming HBO special Oh My God, cult comedian Louis C.K. has released a teaser promo that utilizes a plethora of light bulbs, somber voice-overs, and a solid-gold microphone to appropriately convey the show's colossal importance.

After all, it is the greatest comedy of the generation of blah blah ever to do a thing on a thing. And those don't come around every Saturday.

Except Saturday, April 13th at 10 PM. Which is when this thing will air.

[video via HBO]

It's Fridayyy: Ditch Your Necktie and Get a Beer for Free From Magical Recycling Bin in London

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It's Fridayyy: Ditch Your Necktie and Get a Beer for Free From Magical Recycling Bin in London In order to promote themselves and the free spirit lifestyle, the beer brand Sol ran a marketing campaign that offered commuters an opportunity to win a free beer in exchange for their work tie. After the amused working man drops in his cravat, he will receive a coupon that can be exchanged for a free bottle of beer. But, hey Sol! What about the ladies? Do we chuck in a high heel? Let us know, thank you.

[Design Taxi, image via Aleksey Oleynikov/Shutterstock]


James Franco: The Cynical Wizard of Oz

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James Franco: The Cynical Wizard of OzSam Raimi's greatest contribution to the land of Oz is the very modern act of tribute through mockery. Though his prequel Oz the Great and Powerful takes place about 20 years before 1939's The Wizard of Oz, James Franco's Oscar Diggs floats in a hot air balloon from Kansas (of course) and regards the foreign soil of Oz with the amused irony of someone beamed in from 2013. He has a shit-eating grin and quip for virtually all that he encounters: a winged monkey in a bellhop uniform, a porcelain doll that can talk, hot babes, good witches, bad witches, the idiotic tinkers and munchkins of Oz.

Those aforementioned characters are weird and old-fashioned, conversing in the stilted manner you'd hear coming from a Golden Age MGM soundstage, or at least, in the stilted manner of actors attempting that stilted Golden Age manner. Franco's Wizard of Oz is not. He's smarter than they are, as aware of their ridiculousness as we are, like a producer on a pseudo-sociological reality show who can't believe the material that's unfolding before him. To save these people from a pair of terrorist witches, he must fool them with smoke and mirrors (literally) and (spoiler alert) he does so exactly because he knows so much better than they do.

Franco's Oz character is fascinating because he's something of a straight man amongst all of these gasping, despairing, jolly caricatures of actual humans; but at the same time, he's the comic relief. If only screenwriters David Lindsay-Abaire and Mitchell Kapner could have spread around the depth. While Franco's dimensionality pops precisely because the characters that he shares the screen with don't, having so many actors (especially Oscar winner Rachel Weisz and Oscar nominee Michelle Williams) who are better than the scraps that they are given in what is essentially a $200 million game of dress up gets tedious. Mila Kunis, whose magnetism is so intense that she can make a Justin Timberlake rom-com watchable, is rendered virtually insufferable. She's drab and miscast, a desperate romantic that rejection drives to witchy madness. I usually can't take my eyes off this highly unique creature, but for the duration of Oz the Great and Powerful, I wanted nothing more than for her to leave the screen forever.

After Oscar lands, he makes his way through a gorgeous (albeit more spaced out and bare-landscape heavy) rendering of Oz and what unfolds is a story parallel to its predecessor. Raimi's CGI-rooted version of Oz is lovely, with giant sunflower fields, blooming gems, monstrous snap dragons with glowing eyes and rainbow-translucent bubbles. Though magic abounds, the best Williams' Glinda can usually muster is bubbles: she travels via them and repeatedly conjures thick fog that rolls out onto the ground like suds from an overflowing washing machine. Oz must deceive people into thinking that he is the magician that the prophecy says he is, and the moral of the ultimately cynical story is that a lie embraced by the masses is as powerful as the truth.

Will pop culture ever tire of this trope? It's a rehash of the end of The Dark Knight, and like the similarly eye-popping Life of Pi, it's an attempt to illustrate the practical use of religion. Lies are like witches, and a good one yields salvation. This is the note we end on (while keeping things entirely open for a sequel, which is apparently already happening) and it's just like when Dorothy Gale realized she needn't look any further than her back yard to find her heart's desire. This idea was already waiting for us in the multiplex. That we already knew all of it underscores how unneeded this mildly enjoyable revenue generator of a prequel really is.

Will Smith Performs Fresh Prince Of Bel Air Theme Song for All-Girls School in 'London's Harlem'

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While his son Jaden is off opening for Justin Bieber at the O2 Arena in London, Will Smith, 44, is spending his time touring the city's south side flanked by two members of Parliament.

"Will Smith wanted to see 'London's Harlem'!" tweeted MP Tessa Jowell, who, along with MP Chuka Umunna, the current Shadow Business Secretary, accompanied Smith to St Martin-in-the-Fields High School for Girls in Tulse Hill.

There he was welcomed by hundreds of shrieking students who immediately insisted he perform the Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme song for them.

Smith obliged, and a video of the brief but memorable a capella was soon uploaded to YouTube.

As NME notes, Smith's extemporaneous performance of the Fresh Prince rap at the South London school comes just one week after a teen's less authentic voicemail rendition of the song managed to shut down an entire school district after the line "shooting some b-ball outside of the school" was misheard by a receptionist as "shooting people outside of the school."

[video via NME]

George W. Bush's Art Teacher Says He's Painted 50 Dogs

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George W. Bush's Art Teacher Says He's Painted 50 DogsWhat does George W. Bush like to paint? Himself, nude, in the bath and shower, obviously. But also: dogs. Lots of dogs. Over 50 dogs!

This is according to Bonnie Floor, a Georgia artist who tells Fox 5 Atlanta that she spent a month in Boca Raton teaching the president to paint:

"He started off painting dogs. I think he said he painted 50 dogs," Flood said. "He pulled out this canvas and started painting dogs and I thought, 'Oh my God, I don't paint dogs!"

He has since turned, Flood says, to landscapes. (And also, obviously: the shower nudes.) "He's going to go down in the history books as a great artist," Flood tells Fox.

[Fox 5 Atlanta via Salon]

Holly Madison's Daughter Sounds Like a Very Bright Pasta

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Holly Madison's Daughter Sounds Like a Very Bright PastaWhen we first met Holly Madison, she was heroically rescuing the iconic Landsdowne portrait of George Washington from the 1814 Burning of Washington by British troops. No, wait. That's Dolley Madison. When we first met Holly Madison, it was on an episode of Cribs. She was living at the Playboy Mansion with a bunch of similarly proportioned women, calling Hugh Hefner "Puffin," and pleading with him to put a ring on it. He refused, because he would never marry again. She seemed perfectly nice.

Since then, Holly has co-starred in a successful reality TV series, received top billing in her own spin-off, and begun a relationship with Electric Daisy Carnival founder Pasquale Rotella. After she moved out of the Mansion, married a 26-year-old model. Life is unpredictable.

Earlier this week (March 5) Madison gave birth to her and Rotella's first child (a baby girl): Rainbow Aurora Rotella.

The new mother (herself born Hollin Sue Cullen) told E! News that she wanted to give her daughter a unique first name, which is why she named after a girl she went to school with:

"I wanted to give my daughter a unique name. Growing up, there was a girl in my school named Rainbow and I was so envious of that name. I thought it was so pretty and unique!"

"Aurora," is after Disney's Princess Aurora, better known as Sleeping Beauty. This should come as no surprise to Holly Madison Halloween costume aficionados; Holly and her boobs dress up as Aurora all the time. It's like if you named your daughter Dirtyoldteeshirt or Nobra.

Thus concludes a radiant pregnancy.

Congrats to all.

[E! News // Image via Getty]

When People Write for Free, Who Pays?

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When People Write for Free, Who Pays?This week, veteran journalist Nate Thayer posted to his personal blog an email exchange he'd recently had with an editor from the Atlantic. The editor was asking Thayer to take something he'd already written and adapt a shorter version for use on the Atlantic's website, but there was a catch: The editor wanted Thayer to do it for free. "I am a professional journalist who has made my living by writing for 25 years," Thayer wrote, "and am not in the habit of giving my services for free to [for-profit] media outlets so they can make money by using my work and efforts by removing my ability to pay my bills and feed my children."

It's a common enough complaint, but Thayer's response set off a chain reaction of argument and discussion. That the editor may have made a legitimate mistake in a new job—and that the article in question may have been a work of plagiarism by Thayer—didn't move the focus off the original point: Should people be writing for free?

The "No"s weren't the only voices roused by Thayer's call. Atlantic writer Alexis Madrigal penned a thoughtful jeremiad to respond to the masses outraged by the Atlantic's apparent "gall"—and other writers came out in favor of working gratis. "[I]f you do enjoy writing and you don't have a money-making writing opportunity, you should definitely be writing for free," wrote the surely well-compensated Slate blogger Matt Yglesias. "The tough choice is whether you want to write for free for some other publications or just under your own header."

The Awl hosted a Branch conversation that best displayed the media industry's cognitive dissonance about paying writers: Men and women from places low and high on the publishing totem pole wrote for free about the problems and benefits of writing for free. No workable consensus was reached, but everyone seemed to agree that paying writers is very important, unless you can't afford to, or unless you're a youngish writer looking for more prominent exposure, in which case writing for free might be a good thing.

In other words, it doesn't look like media outlets—even very respected ones. even wealthy ones. certainly not this one—are going to stop asking for free writing anytime soon. And that means at least one awful thing for the foreseeable future: The writing game will continue to be one rigged for people who already have money.

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Becoming a successful writer—or journalist or actor or wigmaker—is an ambition that, like pretty much everything else in society, is rigged in numerous ways to favor people who start off with money. Far too many successful writers will tell you that their line of work is a meritocracy, as tech blogger-cum-entrepreneur Jason Calacanis did last month, saying that the only reason there aren't more minorities in tech writing is because they're not working hard enough. This is a self-serving lie for successful writers to promote, because inherent in it is that the writer telling it is a very talented and hard worker, better than his feckless and pathetic contemporaries who are less successful.

I wish I could tell that lie with a straight face. Unfortunately, I cannot. The stock villain in these discussions is the "trust fund kid," floating through life on a cushion of riches—the sort of people whose parents can literally buy them magazine internships at auction. By that standard, most of us are humble bootstrappers.

But the truth is, in times when I couldn't sell a pitch to even the smallest of alt-weeklies, my parents were able to help me out with a rent check. If those times had stretched out too long, the worst thing that could have happened was I might have had to move back into their house. I was never going to starve or be homeless for lack of a paycheck.

This is what props up the system of internships, low rates, and writing for "exposure": the middle- to upper-middle-class parent who can drop $900 for rent money here, or $2,000 for a broker's fee there, or who can simply co-sign a lease. Their budding writers get breathing room that millions of other mothers and fathers couldn't imagine being able to provide.

And these children can compare themselves to the really rich kids in publishing, the ones who magically have a downtown apartment and money for drinks, and feel themselves struggling to make it. There they are, in a smelly apartment with roommates, riding the subway, maybe short on cigarette money before payday. They—we—are earning it. The occasional cash injection is easy to forget about.

But the money is there, nevertheless, steadily tilting the scales. Who can take an unpaid summer internship at a fashion magazine in New York City—and then take a starting salary at the magazine of around $25,000, while dressing and socializing in a suitably upscale and fashion-conscious manner? When a website like the Atlantic offers no money for 1,200 words of writing, what kind of writer is best equipped to take on that assignment? A mechanic who works 10 hours a day and comes home exhausted, or a 23-year-old still getting rent money from his father?

Gawker Media, we should note, regularly publishes and republishes work that people give to us for free, and employs lots of part-time contractors. On the other hand, Gawker also hires editorial fellows, who are paid more than interns at other publications. Like many modern media outlets, we're not completely exploiting everyone, but we are exploiting someone.

Creatives being able to create thanks to a little help from mommy and daddy is nothing new. Despite lots of sob stories to the contrary, Van Gogh was never penniless, due in large part to handouts from his parents and brother. But what kind of writing community do we cultivate by not paying writers?

As recently as October of last year, Atlantic associate editor David A. Graham wrote that it was "stunning" that 93 percent of front-page newspaper stories about that year's election were written by white people, especially considering that "[i]ssues pertaining to race and ethnicity have been incredibly important to the 2012 election."

Graham's awe at the racial disparity was merely the latest in a spate of media people wringing their hands about the fact that there isn't enough diversity in their editorial meetings and newsrooms and magazine awards dinners. These people are right to be concerned about the homogeneity of media, a problem that worries me as well.

But it's then incumbent upon all of us to recognize that this is the culture we breed when we offer to pay writers nothing or next to nothing, thereby immediately eliminating anyone who needs a paycheck in order to feed themselves and keep a roof over their heads. Some writers may be able to hustle double-duty for a while, filing short stories during the day while waiting tables at night until their big break hits. But the field will still be overpopulated by people who came into it with money and security behind them.

Wealthy musician Amanda Palmer, who last year raised $1.2 million on Kickstarter to produce and release a record, recently used a TED talk to expand on the idea that artists should be willing to work for free. After relaying a story about how she used to be a street performer, Palmer, who is married to a very successful author named Neil Gaiman, told an audience of people who'd paid $7,500 apiece to be there that musicians shouldn't "make" people pay for their work, but rather "let" people pay for their work. She also explained that she found it virtuous when a family of undocumented immigrants huddled together on their couch for a night so that she and her band could have their beds, because her music and presence was a fair exchange for the family's comfort. After about 13 minutes of explaining why she is content with people giving her things, Palmer received a standing ovation.

All in all, the creative landscape is starting to look more toxic than it's been in our lifetimes: Artists with million-dollar checks in their pockets are telling other artists that they shouldn't expect to get paid; publications are telling writers that they shouldn't expect to get paid, either; and meanwhile everyone wonders why we can't get more diversity in the creative ranks. One obvious way to reverse media's glut of wealthy white people would be to stop making it so few others but wealthy white people can afford to get into media. But in the age of dramatic newsroom layoffs and folding publications, nobody wants to hear that. So we trudge on, forgetting what a luxury it is to do what you want to do for a living rather than what you have to do to survive.

Photo via Shutterstock.

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