ANTM Look-Alikes Take Two: Lauren

First of all, I am a lazy blogger and I apologize. I won’t always take the time to find the right pictures to match up with what I’m trying to explain in my posts and i don’t know how to do my own screen caps (do you need digital tv for this? that’s how clueless i am…). This post is case in point. But if you do happen to waste your hour watching this “cycle” of ANTM, you will understand the connection I am making between Lauren and Martha Plimpton.

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Apologia, not apology

First, I’d like to apologise to anyone who might actually read this blog.  I’ve been away for a while after becoming disillusioned with the amount of hate mail I was receiving for one Zac Efron post and one Fergie post.  Both of these posts were in the spirit of distaste for these particular cogs in the entertainment machine, but of course, they have their followers who defend them in droves.  That’s fine.  KIFY was never meant to be a celebrity-bashing or gossip blog: there’re too many of them out there.  Instead, my passion is taking the everyday CRAP we are fed (through TV, ads, music, film and at the mall) and turn it upside down to get a different view.  Oprah and her unflinching consumerism become the icon of what disgusts me.  And ads that aim to target that “spiritual”/”quality of life” side are enemy no. 1.  All other product ads are enemy no. 2.  Still, I can’t deny that our entertainment is caught up in this advertising circus and so it is with this truism that I continue to consider celebrities on this blog.  So I leave you with this, an article that sums up why I felt the urge to make fun of Fergie.  She’s not the only one, but she is, for now, on the top of my list.  Enjoy.   OMG! Like, she’s, like, someone I, like, wanna be like…!

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FOX is afraid we will learn what we already know…

Notoriously right-wing network, FOX, censors Sally Fields’ acceptance speech at 2:00 into the clip…keep watching, keep watching…Makes you wonder just how ‘progressive’ shows like The Family Guy really are? Women’s voices = Power. Women’s voices as Puppets of the Patriarchy = Pathetic (Joan Rivers, take note!)

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“Winners” aptly named for Colonialist Tendencies…

If you live in Canada, you’re probably familiar with that giant outlet store that boasts new items daily–from clothing to home furnishings to lead-laden childrens’ toys. On a recent visit to my local Winners, I stopped by the home furnishing section only to be horrified by the cheap colonialist bric-a-brac festooned on their even cheaper glass shelves. Is this some sick corporate joke? The irony of a company that distances itself from racist slave labour by dealing with sellers, rather than the actual making of clothes, propping up a sort of colonialist idealism and nostalgia (with all the racism and slavery given a rosy hue under the fluorescent lights of the store) is enough to make me cry, puke and laugh violently all at once. So remember folks, history was written by the “winners” and so too shall home decor be. Below are pictures I took of various offensive bric-a-brac at a Winners here in Toronto, in a very multi-ethnic neighbourhood.

Rascist busts of what I suppose is an African slave in Western period costume. Notice the stereotypical accentuating of features and the clash with the ‘soft’ European/Western pastel hues of the costume.

Here it was beside a very idealized, classicized bust of Mozart, icon of Western civilization (versus the savage slaves that ‘we’ civilized and tamed on the plantations). Are you convinced yet that conquest and domination are wonderful things of PROGRESS?

Never mind that here in Canada, First Nations have worked hard to inform the public that they ARE NOT INDIANS for chrissakes. COLUMBUS MADE A FOOLISH ERROR, remember? But, alas, here we are again with the “redskin in a head-dress” again with certain features accentuated to make him look “authentic”. Fuck you, winners.

Of course every wealthy colonialist needs his collection of African masks to prove he had a fruitful safari.

And let’s not forget coffee: remember if it tastes good, it’s because of the “EUROPEAN BLEND”, not because of the slaves who toil to pick the beans. Don’t you feel like going to Kenya and commanding your own coffee plantation? You could look hot in a little safari outfit, just like Keira Knightly did in her Vanity Fair spread.

Ahh, yet another fine colonialist sport, shooting elephants for their ivory and then making statues out of them. The utmost example of Man v. Nature. Bravo.

And to bring it all back to a respectable English flavour, a bit of hunting today, sir?

Bravo, Winners, for making explicit your Colonialist tendencies of raping peoples’ human rights, and justifying it through racism and Western privilege of a ‘comfortable, stylish life’.

Below: More from Keira Knightley’s Vanity Fair spread for Vuitton. Doesn’t she look so pretty against the primitive backgrounds?

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Zac Efron is NOT GAY…

…he’s just trapped inside a woman’s body.

I mean come on, could he look anymore like the love child of Reba McIntyre and Laura Bush? He’s all woman…

And for anyone who’s wondering who this dude(tte) is, he’s starred in Disney’s High School MUSICAL and Hairspray the MUSICAL…not that starring in MUSICALS makes a person gay…I’m just sayin’.

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Don’t Be Sad, Owen! Your Face Loves Itself

After being inspired by this portrait of Dubya, I thought I would do a literal rendition of how I think Owen Wilson’s face is basically having sex with itself. Cheer up, Owen; you’re uniquely handsome and, after all, love is staring you in the face.
**Disclaimer! These ‘naughty bits’ are PROSTHETICS!**

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Separated at Birth: Fergie and Carrot Top

Maybe it’s the eyebrows, maybe it’s the busted plastic surgery on the schnoz and the bad collagen but I can’t shake the feeling that these two were either separated at birth or in fact are one and the same but different wigs…

p.s. please excuse very bad photoshopping today. i’ve got sunstroke.

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John Stamos’ Secret Love Child: Adrian Grenier

Is Adrian Grenier (quasi celeb douche from Entourage) the secret Love Child of John Stamos and 1980s Boglin?

+

EQUALS

in other words:

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A Turtle in a Girdle and other Man-Made Deformities

Exerpts from “Our oceans are turning into plastic…are we?” by Susan Casey:

“…all over the globe, there are signs that plastic pollution is doing more than blighting the scenery; it is also making its way into the food chain. Some of the most obvious victims are the dead seabirds that have been washing ashore in startling numbers, their bodies packed with plastic: things like bottle caps, cigarette lighters, tampon applicators, and colored scraps that, to a foraging bird, resemble baitfish. (One animal dissected by Dutch researchers contained 1,603 pieces of plastic.) And the birds aren’t alone. All sea creatures are threatened by floating plastic, from whales down to zooplankton. There’s a basic moral horror in seeing the pictures: a sea turtle with a plastic band strangling its shell into an hourglass shape; a humpback towing plastic nets that cut into its flesh and make it impossible for the animal to hunt. More than a million seabirds, 100,000 marine mammals, and countless fish die in the North Pacific each year, either from mistakenly eating this junk or from being ensnared in it and drowning.
…
Most alarming, these chemicals may disrupt the endocrine system—the delicately balanced set of hormones and glands that affect virtually every organ and cell—by mimicking the female hormone estrogen. In marine environments, excess estrogen has led to Twilight Zone-esque discoveries of male fish and seagulls that have sprouted female sex organs. On land, things are equally gruesome. “Fertility rates have been declining for quite some time now, and exposure to synthetic estrogen—especially from the chemicals found in plastic products—can have an adverse effect,” says Marc Goldstein, M.D., director of the Cornell Institute for Repro-ductive Medicine. Dr. Goldstein also notes that pregnant women are particularly vulnerable: “Prenatal exposure, even in very low doses, can cause irreversible damage in an unborn baby’s reproductive organs.” And after the baby is born, he or she is hardly out of the woods. Frederick vom Saal, Ph.D., a professor at the University of Missouri at Columbia who specifically studies estrogenic chemicals in plastics, warns parents to “steer clear of polycarbonate baby bottles. They’re particularly dangerous for newborns, whose brains, immune systems, and gonads are still developing.” Dr. vom Saal’s research spurred him to throw out every polycarbonate plastic item in his house, and to stop buying plastic-wrapped food and canned goods (cans are plastic-lined) at the grocery store.”

Read the full article HERE. Coupled with my reading of P.D. James’ Children of Men it is about all I can handle before going off the edge.

And these pictures have left me totally speechless (and nauseous):

But then, why should we care about these mammal mutations and deformities? Women voluntarily deform themselves in a subservient show of male power all the time (some NSFW):

And of course, let’s not forget Pam-An, who’s Ilsa-bot look (the bottle-blonde hair, the collagen lips, the floating devices has more than likely inspired hundreds of thousands of women to follow suit in environmentally hazardous, self-deforming practices) and her rallying for PeTA suggest that hypocrisy is the ONLY thing about her that runs deep.

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Resorting to Their Level: Joe Francis

After hearing a gossip piece on how Joe Francis is upset that Hugh Heffner did not come to his defense (as he claimed Hugh went through ‘similar’ persecution for similar things…um..ok…) I got that rage bubble again. And as his face keeps showing itself like a pesky cockroach in the kitchen, the bubble grows and grows. I don’t enjoy feeling like I have to punch someone…so I’ll vent here instead in a three-pronged prayer to any pagan goddess with a black cat and cauldron:

A) I hope his jailmates forced him to sign ‘waivers’ while he was fucked on H
B) I hope his ass is perpetually bleeding and oozing shit from all the ‘consensual’ prison sex
C) I hope his Acromegaly progresses to the point where his tongue swells up big enough to feel like a giant dick is perpetually poking his gag reflex.*

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I’m Baaaaaaaaaaack!

And to celebrate, I’m posting pics and a vid of America’s favourite feel-good kitty, Winston, by way of FourFour.

He’s the one who broke the news about Aquafina being tap water:

This one’s worth the sneeze at 00:32.

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Torn Between Love and Hate: Morrissey Chides Madonna, Praises PeTA

So at a concert in Norfolk, VA, Morrissey made a few on-stage pronouncements about Madge’s timely shift in public persona as ‘eco-friendly’:

According to 24Sizzler.com’s spy, the eco-friendly rocker told concert-goers about fur-loving Madonna, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she [Madonna] made that African boy into a coat and wore him … for 15 minutes, and then threw it away.”

And these sorts of pronouncements are why I love Morrissey and feel safe and at peace that he is somewhere, just doing things in this world! But wait…then he had to follow it up with advocacy for an organization I find absolutely, frustratingly hypocritical: PeTA:

Morrissey balanced his unkind words for Madonna, with kind words for PETA, which he supports: “You haven’t even heard what I’m gratified about yet,” said the singer, reports the 24Sizzler.com spy. ”I’m very gratified to be so close to the international headquarters of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.”

As a feminist (does that ‘f’ word still make people cringe? Fox News really did a good job of demonizing it in the late 80s/early 90s, didn’t they?) and an animal lover, I find myself cringing at the thought of supporting an organization that uses porn-star iconography, Hep-Cat Pam-Am, and stereotypes of ditzy blonde women for they’re ad campaigns. I’m also a little uncomfortable with the Ilsa-esque Aryan nature of their ‘spokes’ models…especially in the context of their downplaying the horrors of the holocaust and fascism by equating the slaughter of pigs with this historical tragedy. I’m all for a philosophical anti-humanism, but trading one kind of exploitation for another is still working within the lowest common denominators. And please don’t tell me the bleach that Pammy uses in her hair and the goo in her breasts have not come at the expense of animal rights or have not inspired a nasty strain of eco-trashing fem-bots chanting “das blonde ist besser”…

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Stanley K. Bernstein: Diet Doctor or Doctor Death?

This news is old but forgotten. I keep seeing ads for Bernstein’s diet clinics on TV and wonder what special forces it took to acquit him of attempted murder charges when all of the jewellry and Rolex watches were stashed in his home… I also wonder what kind of powerhouse lawyer he employed to get the Toronto Star to eventually take Bernstein’s name out of subsequent stories on the murder plot that you can read below…could it have been Edward Greenspan? How could he afford him? And what is up with the kidnapping of him and his wife where they were found stuffed in the trunk of a Mercedes-Benz several years later? I found these articles in the Star’s online archives. Googling Bernstein’s name gets you nothing more than “”Criminal Background checks”, so in all its glory, I’m posting some of the weird and criminal history behind Toronto’s very own Doctor Death. Enjoy the headline timeline (Only main articles published in full).

Toronto doctor charged in contract murder plot:[FIN Edition]
John Duncanson Toronto Star. Toronto Star Toronto, Ont.:Jul 21, 1992. p. A1

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Paris Hilton the New Picasso?

She sees the world through the eyes of a child. Not since Picasso has the art world seen such genius. The way she disregards the rules of perspective, her insistence on labeling everything in the composition and adding prose alongside the visuals, the haphazard use of negative space…’Tis true talent to render her traumatic experience with such innocence and naivité.

Below are some of her lesser-known masterpieces:

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Jessica Biel’s face frightens me, body okay.

I must be the only one who is frightened by jessica biel’s nose-lip combo and extreme bone structure. From 3/4 view she’s pretty, but in those straight-on views she looks like a pile of rocks with a wig on it, even in soft-focus.

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Speed Racing Does Not Mean You Have a Big One.

A truck driver was killed yesterday on the 400 highway after swerving to avoid two dinky cars that were racing too close. The trucker headed toward the medium and oncoming cars, so he swerved back to the right, and fatally landed in the ditch. The boys who were racing are 20 yrs old, 6 years younger than the number of years truck driver (a father of three) had been trucking. Not all truckers are ‘heroes’, nor do they always drive safe either…

I’ve been on a trip in a truck myself. I’ve seen women painting their toenails while driving, men reading books that they’ve propped up onto the steering wheels, parents driving while looking into the back seat to yell at their kids or in-laws, women flashing truckers, and most of all, nearly everyone fidgeting with their cell phones. If I never believed in Darwinism, I do now. But it’s not right for innocent people to die. So those of you who can’t make time to pull over and do your thing, or have been told multi-tasking is good for society, please take your absent-mindedness and drive off a cliff with it!

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Reclaiming bits of hotness

 I used to have a big crush on Jude Law, but his dalliances with bubble-heads like Sienna Miller crushed any butterflies that dared to dance in my stomach when Jude was on the screen.  Not sure whether this chick’s a bubble-head too, but she’s ‘out there’ enough to bring back some of the mysterious hotness Jude lost from being addicted to Barbie-blondes.  Reminds me of the wonder and amazement I felt when I saw Anthony Kiedis’ girlfriend: pretty but unprocessed, “funky” without hollywood-trendy.  My mind still conjures Pamela “Hep-Cat” Anderson and Heather Locklear when I think of Rockstar girlfriends.  I know.  I’m stuck in 1993.

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I’m confused! Jordan’s the mom?

Um…this reminds me of…

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Results: Holly Hallstrom beats out Holly Madison

So there wasn’t a huge response to my post “Good Ol’ Fashioned ‘Beauty-Off’, but the clicker counts on my blog stats page show that Hallstrom is definitely getting more click, while Madison’s prolly only getting old dick. Congrats Holly H. You light up my life.

Pics from THIS fansite.

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Britney to play Dagon in remake of H.P Lovecraft Classic?

Dagon by Jeff Remmer

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Stick Figure.

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Mariah Carey and The Cowardly Lion from “The Wizard of Oz”

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EQUALS…

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Paris Hilton a.k.a. Chicken Lady going back to Jail!

This is all gossip and rumours, and I swore I’d never contribute to the Paris publicity machine, but I can’t help myself today. It’s the heat. So here’s a little sump’n to make those grey skies cheer up. The indifference in the cop’s eyes (passenger seat) is what really makes it.

Let it be known that I think Paris Hilton looks like the Chicken Lady from Kids in the Hall.

Oh, and Nicole Richie looks like a busted Kevin McDonald. Damn! Kevin McDonald should have played her roles in the Simple Life when the two brats were feuding. No offense meant to Kevin McDonald.

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De-Evolution of Retro Style

Retro is always in. But in the past year, it’s been in in a very particular way. Doo-wop and 50s girls style defines musicians like Amy Winehouse (signature beehive) and the Pipettes (another female-fronted band); Christina Aguilera goes further, evoking the Company B style of the WWII era. I can’t help but feel, however, that in this era of Googlism, and complete lack of historical contexts off which to play, the irony of retro is now lost. Just because Winehouse says ‘fuck’ in her best Nina Simone impersonation, or just because the Pipettes look like they’re sassy chicks who say the other ‘f’ word (feminism), doesn’t make the parody subversive (not that they’re necessarily setting out to do so). In fact, I feel like this fake nostalgia we all have for poodle skirts and red lipstick is part of a seething, bubbling fascism that is a ‘no-no’ to discuss in the enlightened West… Thus I present my De-Evolution of Retro Style: A Descent into Fascism, Racism and Mysogyny, Again.

So the following are lyrics from Doris Day, Amy Winehouse and The Pipettes. They all confirm that notion that “boys will be boys” and, well…can’t live with them, can’t live without them…tee hee!

Read the lyrics to “A Guy is a Guy” by Doris Day (1951)

I walked down the street like a good girl should
He followed me down the street like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen and I’ll tell you what this fella did to me

I walked to my house like a good girl should
He followed me to my house like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen while I tell you what this fella did to me

I never saw the boy before
So nothin’ could be sillier
At closer range his face was strange
But his manner was familiar

So I walked up the stairs like a good girl should
He followed me up the stairs like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen and I’ll tell you what this fella did to me

I stepped to my door like a good girl should
He stopped at my door like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen while I tell you what this fella did to me

He asked me for a good-night kiss
I said, “It’s still good day”
I would have told him more except
His lips got in the way

So I talked to my ma like a good girl should
And Ma talked to Pa like I knew she would
And they all agreed on a married life for me
The guy is my guy wherever he may be

So I walked down the aisle like a good girl should
He followed me down the aisle like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
And now you’ve heard the story of what someone did to me

And that’s what he did to me

Amy Winehouse’s

“What It Is About Men”

Understand once he was a family man
so surely I would never, ever go through it first hand
Emulate all the shit my mother hated
I can’t help but demostrate my Freudian fate
My alibi for taking your guy
history repeats itself, it fails to die
and animal agression is my downfall
I don’t care ’bout what you got I wanted all

It’s bricked up in my head, it’s shoved under my bed
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?
My destructive side has grown a mile wide
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?

I’m nurturing, I just wanna do my thing
and I’ll take the wrong man as naturally as I sing
and I’ll save my tears for uncovering my fears
for behavioural patters that stick over the years

It’s bricked up in my head, it’s shoved under my bed
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?
My destructive side has grown a mile wide
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?

Feminist Complaints, The Pipettes

Broke my heart, what a shame
Played the field, but all game
Your hands lingered for too long
Teasing touch was very strong

That night you left with her in tow
Contributing to my feminist woes

Feminist woe, feminist woe
For feminist cunts, feminist cunts, feminist cunts
Oh, oh, oh

Broke my heart, what a shame
Played away, but all game
That night you left with her in tow
Contributing to my feminist woes

Feminist woe, feminist woe
For feminist cunts, feminist cunts, feminist cunts
Oh, oh, oh

That night I knew that you had been untrue
So what? What? What can I do?

Broke my heart, what a shame
Played the field, but all game

He broke her heart

COPYCATS!

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Bob Barker’s (a.k.a., Daytime Hefner) Last Dance with the Mic.

Bob Barker’s stint as host for the daytime, gameshow version of the Playboy Mansion is over. 35 years of desperate female (and sometimes male) contestants trying to make out with him, fellate his microphone, get the numbers of his Beauties and rub themselves with cash or tacky furniture inspired me, turned me on to the world of 70s porn-palaces without once explicitly referencing them. You know what the set was used for after the sun went down, don’t you?

What do you think Barker’s done with that mic?

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