“South Park” creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone are harboring a dirty secret: Much of their audience, the 18- to 34-year-old demographic, overlaps with a certain young, male, white slice of President Donald Trump’s base. You know, the ones who troll liberals online and proudly rock MAGA hats in public.
Long ago, in a time before time was counted . . . on portable phones . . . identifying as a black nerd or geek used to be one of the surest paths to social banishment. T’was a fate common to many nerds and geeks, but for nerds and geeks of color, harboring a love of swords and sorcery ran the risk of effectively placing oneself on the outer edges of the ostracized. It meant hearing, over and over again, that what we were into was some white people sh*t.
If you can walk outside of your house without hearing “Despacito” at least one time, consider yourself lucky. The Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee track hasn’t stopped playing since the remix featuring Justin Bieber was released back in April, officially making it 2017’s “song of the summer.”
There may never have been a U.S. president who has more thoroughly encouraged public mockery than Donald Trump. It is not just that he is woefully unprepared for the job, that he doesn’t seem to be able to speak English, that he paints his face orange and uses a comb over or that he is a bombastic bully; it is that Trump himself loves to mock, humiliate and laugh at others. Trump’s own cavalier “jokes” seem to invite an open season on jokes back at him.
Why We Can Safely Expect Many More Idiot Celebrities to Run for Office Now That Trump Has Shown the Way
The 2003 California gubernatorial election was nutty. It seems less so now because 18 months of being virtually lobotomized via tweets, Access Hollywood tapes, debates over hand (penis) size and dossiers detailing pisscapades has a desensitizing effect. But so wild was the 2003 California gubernatorial election that the Game Show Network constructed a game show debate entitled “Who Wants to Be Governor of California? – The Debating Game,” in which some of the race’s made-for-reality-TV candidates competed for notoriety and the chance to win campaign funds.
“Real Time” host Bill Maher went on an epic rant about the decline of summer in America during his “New Rules” segment Friday.
At the most recent edition of the Whitney Biennial, the long-running survey of American art, visitors were greeted by a quote of the sort not usually seen in museums: “The two greatest stores of wealth internationally today [are] contemporary art [. . . and] apartments in Manhattan.”
With her long, ropy, signature braid and high-waisted pants, Hailey Gates may well be the millennial answer to early-career Oriana Fallaci, or perhaps fashion’s answer to Anthony Bourdain. Seemingly comfortable in any patois, the polymath model/writer/actor (“Twin Peaks”) travels to such far-flung locales as Liberia, Mexico, France, Romania and even Independence, Ohio, to document “fashion shows and under-reported cultural phenomena,” for her Viceland docuseries, “States of Undress,” now in it’s second season. What emerges in toto isn’t so much that Liberia or Independence is the next Paris or Milan, as much as how these unexpected local fashion shows provide a portal through which to explore greater issues of gender, cultural identity, class and race.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to build up a framework that might, however provisionally, help us make sense of the strange political and cultural condition of the Western world at this point in the 21st century. That’s far too ambitious a goal amid a situation of perpetual turmoil, of course. If there’s one thing we know about history, it’s that hardly anyone understands what’s going on when they’re in the middle of it — and if there’s one thing we know about the current state of the world, it’s that whenever anyone offers up a confident, coherent and carefully wrought analysis, fate is about to make them look ridiculous.
Ivanka Trump Is Clueless About the Way the World Works and Has Shared It with the World in Her New Book
Ivanka Trump’s new book “Women Who Work” is not, as you may have already guessed or read, particularly useful, even compared to other bland corporate tactical manuals. If you are a woman who works — or know one with a graduation or a promotion or a birthday coming up — save your money. The Trump family’s rapacious worldview is in its full glory in this clip job of a so-called monograph; Ivanka (or whoever “architected” this sugar-, fat- and gluten-free life manual) takes the subhead, “Rewriting the Rules for Success,” to an absurdly literal level. The book is not written so much as it is aggregated, borrowed so heavily from certain individual sources that she ought to owe royalties to Sheryl Sandberg and the estate of Stephen Covey, not that they’re any more likely to collect now that her office is in the West Wing instead of Trump Tower. What else is the intellectual work of others but “content” for “Ivanka” to “curate” (“wordsmith,” even!) for her own profit?