When Dante talks about the Inner Ring of the Seventh Circle of the Inferno, I believe he was referring to something resembling the above photograph. Ughh.

So, yeah: 3,000 people show up to a Long Island mall for a signing this kid's having at an Abercrombie Kids. Madness breaks out, people have to go to the hospital, they've now pressed charges against a senior V.P. at Island-Def Jam for not Tweeting the cancellation of his appearence. Seriously.

Police arrested a senior vice president from Bieber's label, Island Def Jam Records, James A. Roppo, 44, of Hoboken, N.J., saying he hindered their crowd-control efforts by not cooperating. He was in custody Friday night, pending charges that could include criminal nuisance, endangering the welfare of a minor and obstructing government administration, Smith said. "We asked for his help in getting the crowd to go away by sending out a Twitter message," Smith said. "By not cooperating with us we feel he put lives in danger and the public at risk."

I wish cops would arrest me for not Twittering. Fantastic. Who's this kid again? He does this little song and dance:

Somehow, in this story, Usher is the Charlie to his, uh, "angelic teen dreaminess" or whatever, except why are teenage girls always crazy about teenage guys who look like girls? Maybe Zac Efron gets the exception card because he was in that Burr Steers movie with Matthew Perry, but still, like, the Carter Brothers? And they all act kinda hip hop-y [Except, again, for Efron: patterns!]. And early Justin Timberlake? And I mean, let's not even start on Hanson. The middle one? Are you kidding? Can someone please explain these things to me? Also, isn't the whole You + Me thing a bit tired? They should've really consulted MTV's in-house playbook before dropping that one.

Anyway, this kid, this 15 year-old Canadian kid, caused this scene:

Not exactly the reaction I had after the first time I saw the "You Oughta Know" video, but still, understandable on some level, right? WRONG. Because people were hurt. This is where G-12 Protests and Tiger Beat meet in the middle. I'm impressed, but also, kind of disappointed rubber bullets weren't at least threatened. Or even better: that they'd burn this entire Long Island mall's supply of Juicy Couture velour tracksuits. That would've stopped 'em dead in their tracks. Riot cops gotta pull out at least a few decent stops. Next time, call me. I know how to handle these things.

Anyway, a record exec is in jail—yay?—and a star is made, but whatever happened to the days when shit like this was all just A Hard Day's Night? He should learn, even though, apparently, the psychotic teen beasties of Long Island take a little more to be stopped than some clever hiding, in their great tradition of senseless consumer thuggery. Rage on, kids. Rage on.

Viva.

[Photo via HaveUHeard??]

Maher cites the CDC website that shows ingredients of the vaccine including aluminum, insect repellent, and formaldehyde, which, incidentally can all be found in the Playboy mansion grotto that Maher's known to frequent.

Maher went on to connect the dots to other procedures we now know are dangerous, like filling teeth with mercury. Without skipping a beat, in response to Maher's question as to if he ever had his teeth filled with mercury, Alec Baldwin deadpanned, "Yeah, that's why I became an actor."

Chris Matthews asked Maher why he's talking about this, Maher countered that he's just trying to have the debate. But Maher already had the debate last week with Bill Frist and was trying to use the panel to air out his grievances. Baldwin wasn't having it "Bill, you having us on the show and rehashing all the problems you got into on your last show is like going on a date and talking about your ex-wife." leaving Maher with a perfect softball to toss back to Baldwin who left himself wide open saying "Maybe we can talk about your past problems."

A 60 Minutes report by correspondent Scott Pelley revealed a demographic most susceptible to the H1N1 virus. "This is one of the really tragic parts of this epidemic. That people who are in the prime of their life - totally healthy can suddenly become so sick,"

If it wasn't bad enough that boomers left them with one of the worst economies in 50 years, The Youngs now have an epidemic with a target placed squarely on their messenger bag-carrying backs. Why does the virus have such age discrimination? Dr. Peter Palese of Mt. Sinai Medical Center in New York told 60 Minutes that older folks have built up a immunity from viruses lingering from the 1940s they came in contact with.

Will the vaccine kill you? Only one way to find out.

Jennings' real job title is "Assistant Deputy Secretary of Education for the Office of Safe and Drug-Free Schools." It is, indeed, an unconfirmed position, but it was, of course, created by an act of Congress.

The Office of Safe and Drug-Free Schools was created by George W. Bush's No Child Left Behind Act. It was designed as the successor to the Safe and Drug-Free Schools and Communities Program, which was created in 1986, as part of the general Reagan and Congress anti-drug hysteria leading up to the '86 midterms.

In other words, it was the "drug-free school zone" program for a couple years until it got tossed in with some Columbine hysteria in 2002.

Kevin Jennings's book Mama's Boy, Preacher's Son is the story of growing up gay and Southern Baptist in the '60s and early-'70s. He got a lot of grief. And he went on to become an educator himself, and the founder of the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network. There is basically not a single bad thing you can say about that organization unless you actually do think gay kids (and even not gay kids) should be taunted by teachers and classmates until they kill themselves. So, obviously, the Family Research Council is leading the charge against Jennings. They want gay kids to die. Sorry! It's the truth!

And guess who is more than happy to play along? Fox News! They officially deemed him a Czar and aired all the out-of-context quotes and read the charges against him running a heretofore completely unknown and relatively powerless little corner of the Department of Education.

The Assistant Deputy Secretary for Safe and Drug-Free Schools is, like most "Czars," responsible for almost nothing. He or she helps decide where anti-violence and anti-drug money goes and recommends how it is to be spent. He or she helps draft school violence policy. He or she goes to conferences.

So. Let's go back in time!

Eric Andell, George W. Bush's first Deputy Secretary of Education for the Office of Safe and Drug-Free Schools (you can see why the media decided to call everyone with a long title a "Czar" now, right?), was a juvenile court judge, Texas Court of Appeals justice, and a senior adviser to then-Education Secretary Rod Paige. As it was 2002, Endell's job description involved a lot of talk of Homeland Security, terrorism, and school shootings. Also, indoctrination:

Andell will oversee all activities related to safe schools, crisis response, alcohol and drug prevention, health and well being of students, and building strong character and citizenship in the new unit. His office will also take the leadership role in the department's Homeland Security efforts.

Andell left the Education Department when he was charged with a misdemeanor count of using federal money to pay for personal expenses—he pleaded guilty to traveling for "private personal and financial matters" on the government dime 14 times in one year.

He was succeeded by a woman who directed the National Prayer Breakfast and had a series of policy gigs at Bush's DoE.

Now, instead of a conservative policy wonk or a someone whose job it was to lock up children we have a dude who has written extensively on bullying and how to prevent it. Republicans are literally up in arms about him because they are afraid he will make it more difficult to bully children for being gay.

Newark police say 25-year-old Shaheed Wright of East Orange apparently put several baggies of cocaine inside his 4-year-old son's jacket after a near brush with police. The boy later shared the drugs with three other 4-year-olds at the center on Friday.

So much for Twix and Slurpees for breakfast. You know how there was always that "cool" parent that'd let you get all sugarfreaked before dropping you and your friends off at school? Well, Mr. Wright, you're him, times a million. Except you were busted by the kid's teacher, who found one of the baggies in one of the his friends' mouth. All four kids involved were taken to the hospital, and Wright's son explained to police about the "candy" his dad gave him. Yeah. His dad told him it was candy.

The interesting stuff, though, is what you're never going to read on 1010Wins. Like the criminal desperation that invokes you putting drugs in your kid's jacket and telling him it's candy. And the circumstance that puts someone in the position to do that in the first place. Or what happens to Wright's child hereafter.

Anyway: 1010 reports that "Wright was charged with four counts of child endangerment and drug offenses," and if he has any idea what's good for him, he's going to plea bargain the hell out of this.

In conclusion: Newark is apparently hell on earth.

First, it's important to keep in mind that Weaver — who's got the sickest press credentials in all the land - is only just starting out, and he already has a Wikipedia Page. His inflated Mediaite ranking is sure to follow. And after this: so is a call from ESPN. Watch as he deftly handles a question regarding who he's going to interview next, and the follow-up, in which he doesn't consider speaking with Michael Vick — who, if he were to speak with Weaver, would be granting him a courtesy interview - about dog fighting.

He might as well have said, Lady, I'm just a fuckin' kid. Back off. And he would've been right. Why, of all the questions, of all the people he just gave you, would you ask the most blatantly insensitive one? The kid's twelve, the world has Bob Costas for that kind of thing, and his ambition to be Wolf Blitzer over some MSNBC moving face surely looks like a far more nuanced ambition now than it did before. Blitzer would never toss him a few softballs and then try to hit him with the pitch.

Even better, though, was Weaver's shutdown of his questioner: subtle, as polite as possible, and intelligent. Hell, it shows the makings of a good Press Secretary, too. Gibbs: protect your neck, son. Damon Weaver's comin' up on you.

A website called Irish Central claims to have a source in the police department - and, come on, it's New York, of course they do - detailing the city's cops disbelief with what the young star's security detail has on their hands, and even more, the fact that they think they're at all capable of dealing with it.

"Enough is enough," said a highly-placed official at Police Headquarters. "His security people aren't up to the task of keeping him safe, and they have no idea how to deal with the crowds this guy attracts." The source pointed to a well-publicized incident in which Pattinson ran from a crowd of admirers and was slightly injured when he was struck by a taxi.

"That's amateur hour," the police spokesman said. "We have celebrities a lot bigger than this guy who can come and go in perfect safety because we know how to take the right precautions. We have presidents and kings come and go. This poor kid can't get in or out of a car without things getting dangerous."

The post goes further into detail about how overwhelmed his current protection is, and how they don't know how to deal with the massive crowds that show up wherever he goes. Pattinson's also apparently fairly disturbed by the attention he attracts, which, besides being inconvient and scary, is also a source of embarrassment to him. And honestly, if I were followed by Twilight fans wherever I went, I'd be embarrassed, too. Pattinson's probably still cursing JK Rowling for (SPOILER ALERT) killing his character in the fourth film in the Harry Potter series. If only he could go back to a time more magical, less, uh, psychologically fraught with emotional peril.

Young Pattinson already hates the women of New York for trying to murder him. He tried buying one of his stalkers dinner, it didn't work. He stalkers have proven themselves to generally be sexually charged alcoholic ragers. It really is out of control. Yeah, he's a bankable movie star and fine as far as genetics go. But he seems to be an otherwise nice, normal guy who invokes the hidden sexual pathos (which then manifests into bloodthirst) of what might sometimes be fairly normal human beings. Until he does receive his police protection, he can go with the whole cross/garlic combo to stave off the bloodthirsty Spinsters In Training. Or at least get a stun gun.

'Twilight' star Pattinson may be in N.Y. Police Department's spotlight [Irish Central]

No, seriously, you're way too distracted. I know I am. Things I can do while driving, at the same time:

• Use a stick shift,
  
  
• smoke a cigarette,
  
  
• change CDs,
  
  
• drink a slurpee,
  
  
• and talk on the phone.

But isn't that talent, though? I could probably eat a cheeseburger, too-which some places actually encourage, especially on the West Coast, where In-N-Out will hand you your food in a box to eat "in your car"-but it wouldn't go well with the Cig and the Slurpee. Apparently, this kind of thing isn't appreciated by The Olds at the Times, especially when teenagers do it:

"Extensive research shows the dangers of distracted driving. Studies say that drivers using phones are four times as likely to cause a crash as other drivers, and the likelihood that they will crash is equal to that of someone with a .08 percent blood alcohol level, the point at which drivers are generally considered intoxicated. Research also shows that hands-free devices do not eliminate the risks, and may worsen them by suggesting that the behavior is safe. "

So I guess what they're saying is that it's better to get behind the wheel kind of drunk than be on your phone. Oh, and some places, it's illegal.

Anyway, the only part of this Times article that's revelatory in any regard (because the entire thing is basically "if you're doing anything but driving you're going to crash," which I think they teach you in Drivers Ed but don't remember because I was napping) is that the New York Times makes crafty videogames!

Amazing. Basically, you have to use the numbers at the top of your keyboard (not your keypad, because that would be cheating) to pick out the "gate" your call will drive through while clicking letters on a phone with your mouse to simulate texting. It's pretty fun and you will laugh at how many times you crash into the gates, but also, how terrible of a simulation texting and driving is, particularly because the game has you changing five lanes every two seconds, but mostly because texting and driving is way easier than that, duh. Besides which, it's like your parents say: it's not you you're worried about. It's the other drivers.

The US Atlas Of Texting-While-Driving Laws [Jalopnik]

Drivers and Legislators Dismiss Cellphone Risks [NYT]

Silly New York Times Driving Video Game [NYT]

The story says as much about the ease with which kids behave beyond themselves in the "protected" sphere of the internet as it does about how loneliness, insecurity, and bullying can spark an already troubled mind into catastrophic action. A terrible story, but definitely an interesting, and vaguely gay-panicked?, read.

New York's Jada Yuan reported seeing the following interaction at Friday's NYC premiere of the new Harry Potter movie. Harry Potter (muggle name: Daniel Radcliffe) was doing red carpet interviews, charming people along the way. A gaggle of reporters gets in his face. One of them is an 11 year-old cutie from Scholastic.

Radcliffe (to other reporters): "One moment, one moment. I will come back to you. [Locks eyes with Scholastic News girl] Hello!"

Girl: "Hey. I'm Danielle from Scholastic News."

Radcliffe: "Hello, Danielle! Pleasure to meet you."

Danielle: "This is an HONOR to interview you."

Radcliffe: "Oh, thank you. You're very sweet. Thank you."

Danielle: "I've seen the first and second movies and read the first and second book and they are SO good. Especially the movies. I loved them, the movies!"

Radcliffe: "Thank you very much. You're very, very kind. They get even better than that, though, so when you get time or when your parents think you're old enough, you must watch the rest. They're very cool."

And then:

Other reporter: "Daniel, how…"

Radcliffe: "One moment, one moment."

Other reporter: "They told us to group together."

Radcliffe: "It will happen. One second, sorry." [re-focuses on Danielle]

Danielle: "How did Harry change from the first movie to the second? I mean, the sixth?"

Radcliffe: "To the sixth? Well, he grew marginally taller. The films have gotten a lot darker since that first film, so I think he has had to get a lot tougher since then. Thank you very much."

Danielle [holding breath, then nearly dropping mike]: "Oh. My. God. Oh. My. God. That was soooo cool!"

There's a little more where that came from. Why can't all movie stars be like the Harry Potter kids? Maybe they'll start to be. Even though Harry Potter reaps its millions of successes (read: dollars) on the strength of the actual franchise property, it surely can't hurt that parents can find something to enjoy in letting their kids be influenced by its key players. Even Radcliffe didn't have his parent-approval rating hurt by letting his cock hang out on the West End and Broadway in Equus. Who'd of thought? Young, million-dollar movie stars as role models to kids. Magic!

Update: Here's Danielle version of her encounter with the wizard one.

15-year-old Alexa Longueira took her case to the people! She was walking on the sidewalk. She was texting. Then, out of nowhere, a GIANT FUCKING HOLE appeared in the ground below her - presumably, somewhere within the periphery of where she was holding her phone, incidentally - and she fell five feet into it. Via Gothamist:

Apparently DEP workers left the the open manhole to retrieve some orange cones-and it took a little too long for them to return. She told WCBS 2, "It was just really gross and it was shocking and scary. Because of their careless mistake I got hurt... Regardless of whether I'm texting or not if there was a cone there I'm gong to see a big orange cone. I walk that sidewalk every day, I don't expect a big hole there." So, if there was a big orange, she TOTALLY would have seen it while texting, instead of the manhole, right?

One can only hope! Because if orange cones won't save us from gigantic holes in the ground, what will? Funny you should ask. Alexa also expressed her fear of something pulling her under, into the sub-surface of the ground, into Staten Island's most inner-reaches!

"I thought it was something out of a movie, where something was gonna take me under."

Mind you, she was five feet underground. Anyway, it's pretty common knowledge that if you're pulled underground by something in New York, you might be in luck. Then again, it could be the mole people. Either way, if I were a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or a moleperson, I probably would've thrown this one back out. The surface streets are dangerous enough; you don't need to be navigating the underground with a kid who can't see gigantic holes in the ground. Also, you can only talk about Twilight for so long. Seriously.

Video: S.I. Teen Discusses Fall Down Manhole While Texting [Gothamist]

An apocalyptic, borderline Mad Max sculpture by two guys who go by AIDS-3D. The center of the sculpture was a tower with the words OMG inscribed on it in lights. It originated as a GIF image file, at one point, they say. Interview with them here.

Someone sleeping in a bed, in the middle of the museum. Chu Yun, the artist, "supplied" his subjects with sleeping pills and the bed. The sleepers were being paid $10 an hour to sleep in the museum. Yun's previous work has included putting a woman with down's syndrome in a chair, in a gallery.The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

Artist Guthrie Lonergan's Myspace Intro Playlist, in which the artist remixed a bunch of MySpace intro videos. It is not intended to be funny, according to the arist.

This video of rival street gangs in Belgrade fighting, scored to a trance techno track.

Three very large banners, one of which advised me: "DON'T PAY TAXES."

A installation with videos by artist Ryan Trecartin. The room had discarded Lay-Z-Boys and part of an airliner's interior on the side of it. I also remember seeing a shelf with sand on it, and a BlackBerry in the sand. Here is a Ryan Trecartin video. I'm simply incapable of describing its contents: The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

The remnants of an art project that took place on the first floor of the museum. There was a bunch of cardboard paper, unfolded boxes, and various other "construction" scraps lying on the floor. There was a small TV in the corner depicting in fast-forward the artist and her friends, building a replica of Rome in 24 hours, and then destroying it. From New York's art critic Jerry Saltz's review of the show:

The first night, I watched kids fashion the altars and temples of Rome's archaic period; by the next morning, when I returned, they'd been destroyed ("by fires," said the artist), and I spied the beginnings of Classical Rome. Just before the opening, the whole city was again wrecked and left in ruins, as the Dark Ages began. Glynn is saying she's not going to listen to the bromides that assert that change takes time.

An 8-bit videogame called FlyWrench by artist Mark Essen. You use an original Nintendo controller to control a line going through different colored shapes: The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

The laid out contents of three people, from whom Chinese artist Liu Chuang offered to buy everything off of their person for display in a museum. One included a cell phone, some pictures of themselves, and of course, all of their clothing.

A rotating spiral staircase on a platform, entitled: Nothing Is True, Everything Is Permitted, Stairway Edit.

Photographs of adults acting out Second Life and video game scenarios.

One of the gallery attendants, wearing a white 80s tracksuit with bloodstains on it. There was a card for it; this was part of this exhibition.

The last thing I saw before leaving was a banana peel on the floor. I couldn't tell if it was part of the show or not, and I didn't bother to check.

Okay, so, some comment, and some context (I lied! Getting you past the jump: it's an art.):

I'm by no means an educated art consumer or art critic, which is why it's probably safer to read Jerry Saltz's assessment of this thing for an actual, critical appreciation. The video game was fun. The message advising me not to pay taxes was nice. But: a woman was sleeping in a bed, in a museum. I'm often advised by people who know more about art than me that much of the point of this is to ask: is it art? Don't get me wrong: as you can tell by the publication you're reading this on, I'm all about the subversive (or painfully obvious) art of fucking with someone's sensibilities. But how does one get into the position to be able to put someone sleeping in a museum and call themselves an artist? Do you have to be embedded in the art scene? Well-established? Anyway. Maybe this makes me a conservative yokel without any kind of appreciation for the more intelligent "pleasures" of life. Or maybe it just makes me someone who went to a museum and "didn't get it." On that note, however, here are some ideas for the next time the New Museum goes at something like this. I submit them in sincere pursuit of the advancement of art and human civilization's ability to express itself:

• Me, sitting in a papasan, smoking a bong, eating sandwiches of various origin.
  
  
• A bounce-house full of puppies, while House of Pain's "Jump Around" is blasted on repeat in the bounce house. This will be at a frequency the dogs can't hear.
  
  
• A full-scale replica of Waffle House installed on the roof of The New Museum, with a staff imported from a Waffle House currently in operation somewhere in the Southeastern United States. The only thing you can't order will be bacon.
  
  
• A four year-old melting plastic toy soldiers with a blowtorch.
  
  
• A New York City MTA official punching himself in the face every hour, on the hour. He will have a stack of unlimited Metrocards in his pocket that you don't know are there.
  
  
• A drawing of me drawing a drawing, drawn by something that is not ordinarily asked to draw. There will be a new one each day. We will start with a parakeet and move forward as such.
  
  
• A coffee stain.
  
  
• This painting of pancakes on Nick Denton's head.
  
  
• A performance-art version of Gawker where I go around screaming at people on the Bowery and handing out gold stars to the ones who scream back something interesting. Any of the ones trying to correct my grammar get summarily executed or "banned."
  
  
• A Starbucks gift card with exactly one cent less on it than is required to buy a small cup of coffee.
  
  
• A pillow filled with marmite, accompanying a down comforter filled with nutella, and a mattress filled with english muffins.
  
  
• A giraffe named Mercedes.
  
  
• A puppet show performed exclusively by people who hate puppets.

That is all. Oh, and this:

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

The Generational: Younger Than Jesus [New Museum]
‘Jesus' Saves - God bless the New Museum's tantalizing triennial. [New York]

An inside source notes that Angels and Kings was issued a third citation for serving to minors, so they've been shut down for three days. They also noted that their first two violations were previously thrown out in court, though, so the cops are - as they're wont to do with New York City bars - actually kind of just fucking with them. Sugar, they're going down swinging.

Last time this fair website heard from Wentz, he got all different kinds of pissed off and mad and upset when we posted a Gawker Stalker sighting of him. He blogged about it on his Tumblr, and we ran a pretty pie graph about what all of Pete Wentz's fans had to say to us!

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Wentz, despite Twittering his whereabouts, was primarily concerned with the safety of his kid, who was with him and wife Ashley Simpson (along with their two-ton bodyguard, who probably doesn't stick out at all). And we can respect a guy who looks out for his kids, and who encourages his fans - mostly kids, too, we might add - to be concerned, too. But he's clearly not too concerned with anyone else's kids, or their drinking habits, which their parents might not approve of. Being a rock and roll parent: rough stuff. Bummer. On that note, Gawker Stalkers are encouraged to be more vigilant in reporting their sightings of Pete. We wouldn't want him spiking anybody else's punch. Sightings go here. Closeup of the notice here: The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

Oh, and related: if you've never been to Angels and Kings, Joshua Stein put it best when he noted that, upon opening, "our douche canary in our douche mineshaft keeled over and died." Which is everything you need to know about the place.

I know, I know, what Lux says is true (internal: do I have to nsfw tag fleshbot links?): It's totally difficult to come up with a fresh angle on Sasha Grey. Even before the movie hype-machine shifted another gear, Sasha was giving out a lot of interview. And now profiling the smart-alternative-philosophical-fuck-machine has become just another media gang-bang that offers nothing new or stimulating.

But surely there are bigger and better questions to ask! Queries with more girth, if you will. Sasha's persona as it comes across through, uh, interviews is one of a straight-shooter who's not afraid of tough questions. Even better: She's deep. There's a feminist streak to her brand of self-possessed sexual liberation. So, myself an oversexed philosophy major, I was excited for thoughtful conversation with the candid Miss Cum Buckets #8.

Alas, as Vanessa Grigoriadis wrote in her Rolling Stone profile, "there is something about Grey that is hard to reach, like talking to a woman behind glass." And I'm here to report: It's true! Even over e-mail!

What follows is my interview with Sasha Grey. But instead of treating it like a straight Q&A we're going to deconstruct along the way, in search of answers, but perhaps finding only more questions.?.?

TAN: Do you think you can be seduced via email interview?

Sasha Grey (SG): No.

TAN: I haven't seen any of your movies (Really! Well, except for The Girlfriend Experience which I just saw — ed: these Q's were sent beginning of May.) What am I — and others out there — missing from the purely-visceral-porn side of your oeuvre? Do you consider yourself as having an "oeuvre"? I did read about you being asked to get punched in the stomach, and everyone loving that: is that something recommended, or strictly for professionals?

SG: That was sorely taken out of context; it never happened.

ed: Google says otherwise?

TAN: Everyone talks about how smart you are! It sort of feels like when Obama/black people are celebrated for being "clean and articulate." Are porn stars all idiots or something?

SG: I don't believe so, unfortunately there are people that perpetuate the stereotype but it doesn't mean we all fit into that category.

TAN: Are you familiar with the 10,000 hours theory, via Malcolm Gladwell and others? It suggests that masters/geniuses of their craft become so by somehow someway diligently working at their craft for 10,000 hours. Do you think you've hit the 10,000 hours mark for fucking? Are you a "fucking genius"? Are there masters of porn/geniuses of the craft of sex? Sexual "outliers." If one fucks for 10,000 hours will one be a genius? how would a layperson identify this sort of talent?

SG: That's just a belittling question.

I find this response telling *strokes chin*. I mean, there's an attempt at a humorous tone to my question, but the theory is real. And fucking for 10,000 hours, for pornstars at least, is real. So why the copout response? When I sent the questions these (amongst others that got cut) were subhedded as "About the Porn Industry". From the interviewer perspective, the questions are the opposite of belittling and represent a few different approaches to trying to get her to talk about work that others find controversial, but she takes very seriously. It's one thing to not answer, and be a Deniro, but "belittling"?

TAN: You often discuss the psychology of porn/sex. How that enhances the experience. Can you discuss why this is the case, and what is the best way to turn someone on psycho-sexually?

SG: I say that because many people come to set with a premeditated routine, I enjoy being able to break them out of that frame of mind, and get an animalistic response out of my partner. I don't think there is any one way to turn someone on, whether it be psycho-sexual or not, because we are all different. Everyone is turned on by something different, just as everyone likes a different color, genre of music, film, or taste of ice cream-it's such a simple fact but it's often quite overlooked.

TAN: In your Twitter-interview w/ Black Book, you mention ?uestlove being the one who got you on to Twitter (now 1,666 updates and counting!). Coincidentally, I'm in the process of trying to get The Roots more integrated into the Gawker comunity. Why do you love ?uesto, and/or The Roots?

SG: I've been a fan since I was probably eight years old or so. Their music is never disposable; you can actually listen to an entire album and enjoy all of it. The fact that they are a live hip hop band, a real band, is so rare in that "genre", they never phone shit in, and are always true to their "Roots".

TAN: On the same thread, the challenge of integrating The Roots with an audience that isn't a hip hop crowd, is similar to the challenge of being a pornstar with mainstream aspirations. There's this fighting of "the system" of American demographics. People are resistant to change, so even open-minded folks need lubing up to get comfortable with doing something out of their comfort zone. How do you handle the challenge of audiences/consumers being so fractured and niche, and yourself having such a range of interested and ideas/impulses? Seems the Artist Business Model in America is about consolidating and focusing your energies. But to cater to the "intelligent" crowd, for example, means to alienate another crowd, the "Maxim-loving frat-boy" crowd maybe, but that's an equally valuable crowd for you. Do you think about these things?

SG: I cater to many different people, partially just because of my individualism, it's never been a conscious decision of which audience I'm going to try and market myself to. If I only concentrated on one thing, I would limit myself in life. So, fuck the "system" I subscribe to my own way of operating.

TAN: You're young. Just recently turned old enough to drink, yet have obviously done and seen more than many your age. How do you feel about mortality, and getting older? It's a minor theme in the movie — how in this business you need to be extra conscious of looking good — so do you feel yourself getting jaded via the business?

SG: No, do you feel jaded being a blogger? I mean, would you ask anybody else this type of question that's not in the adult business?

Huh? Well, actually, yes, there is some jadedness to being a blogger. And, yes, I would ask anyone else in most lines of work that question. The existential influence of our mortality affects everyone, so far as I know, everyone gets older and tired and bored etc., and so I can't help but feel another door that leads to actually advancing the conversation has been closed. And very gruffly at that.

TAN: The maxim "youth is lost on the young" (or something like that) comes to mind: You're very self-aware etc, how do you handle the challenges of being a mature business-woman yet not squandering your youth and indulging it?

SG: By being very self aware and focused, you just said it yourself:) I don't waste time partying and worrying about petty things; I work hard while I have the energy.

A smile! It's not all bad. Can't wait to tell my boys about this! Still, not much meat to the actual answer. Admittedly, not my finest question ever, but I'm just trying to get in. This is the "backdoor of youth" attempt!

TAN: Finally, most view porn stars as abused or having dysfunctional issues. I saw an interview where you talk about having a healthy bond/relationship with your mother, despite her disapproval of your career choice. But you also mention a father who flew the coop. We often romanticize artists as being broken and such, that dysfunction being the fuel for their craft. Do you think we make too much of it, or is it a real thing? Are the best artists great because they're trying to fill an emotional void? Can you make art that grips you, has that fire, and be emotionally stable?

SG: Yes, I have a healthy relationship with my mother; and no my father didn't "fly the coop", my parents were divorced and I don't talk to my dad much-he has since remarried and had another kid. Sometimes too much is made of it, such as in my case...people enjoy making horror stories about the upbringing of "porn stars" so many details I've given in interviews have been looked over, and misconstrued.

The whole "trying to fill an emotional void when it comes to the best artists" is a loaded question; I don't like to generalize groups of people because everyone's an individual. I don't think any human being/artist is 100% emotionally stable, based on the human condition and our emotions that relate to it. Are you asking if I can make that kind of art, or can artists?

Here our interview ended, and fittingly with a question. There wasn't enough time to do any more exchanges. And, from what we have here, you couldn't feel certain it'd be worth the effort; I guess one could say any question asked is "loaded".

Sasha's young, and doing a lot of publicity, and kindly answered my questions. (Thank you!) But the responses, especially framed within the entire Sasha publicity complex, feel like another take of the same Experience. I mean, sure, her getting Carson Daly to stumble because she used the word "cum" on television feels like it adds to her legend, but not her narrative. Everything you read about this girl indicates there's more there. But when anyone probes, they get the glass wall. Or worse. I don't know, maybe she's just a girl who likes to fuck. And the rest is cinema.

image: via

Yes, the Knocked Up maestro has filmed some content, and will do some live stuff as well, for the February 22nd telecast. The occasion for the bits? It will be the lead up to "a tribute to comedy." Nothing more. Just a tribute to things that are funny. Man Getting Hit By Football had better be included.

Also spicing up the whole production, but scaring those young men the hell away, will be swishy director Baz Luhrman. He's creating some sort of set piece for the evening's host, Hugh Jackman. So wait, dudes and dudettes. Wolverine is hosting? But he's singing and dancing? I'm confused!

It's kind of funny and sad that the producers, Bill Condon (hey girl!) and Laurence Mark, feel the need to mete out these shadowy little plot points like breadcrumbs leading to the glorious Kodak Theater. Ain't nobody ever gonna watch the Oscars who wasn't going to watch the Oscars in the first place. Which is why every time they try to retool, it's such an annoying disaster (remember poor Peter Coyote moored backstage, yelling at people, a few years ago?) Just give us the opening musical number, the Debbie Allen shadow dancers, and maybe Whoopi Goldberg dressed as an old white lady. That's all we want.

Image via Getty

The Hollywood Reporter tells us what we've sort of already heard: that kids were laughing—laughing! at these precious words: "and so the lion fell in love with the lamb"! that is beautiful Britishy foggy dells and swoopy moors poetry! Lord Byron Shelley Austen! my crotch is sobbing!—while the film flickered on the screen.

So leave it to Variety's reported 45% over-25 audience to be the serious ones. They probably sat there all chaste and serious and adulty, whispering small benedictions to remind themselves that it's a good thing to have said "no" to Barry and that someone else will propose—he smelled like onions!—and that the living situation is just temporary and it's not that weird to have a litter box in your bedroom. Then the kids laughed and they got angry and fist shaky that, though it had looked touch-and-go there for a second, the irony which had plagued their lives for so many years was, in fact, not dead at all.

Kids have been sort of unimpressable for a while now, probably, but only recently has the idea of childhood become such a resoundingly cynical one. Markets are tested and groups are focused and everything's dangerous and sarcasm is now mistaken for cute, youthful willfulness. That 'meh' became the battle cry for this seen-it-all generation makes perfect sense; it's funny in its onomatopoeic nonsensicalness—it's like someone gave up halfway when trying to come up with a word. It's a bit sarcastic, just like kids like it, and it came from a pop culture touchstone. It worked its way up, in such a modern little cyber-organic way, through the school halls and internet chatting rooms and it's now in a big British book. It even beat out the über-popular Sex and the City term "frenemy," which was being considered too!

Maybe that means that a meh attitude isn't a path to slackerness and failure, but rather an alternative route to success! The meh sentiment demands a lot—impress me!, it yells. And maybe that's a good thing. Or, you know, whatever. Maybe not.

Who cares anyway.

The draw of TRL was never really the actual videos. It was the spectacle view of dizzying Times Square, the live-ness, the celebrity appearances, the affable and comfortably hip hosts (Carson Daly! And, um, Jesse Camp! And that girl from One Tree Hill!) It was really about the lifestyle of liking music, the thrill of just being thrilled, the ecstasy and immediacy and bittersweet fever dances of being a kid and out of school and having stumbled upon this great big infinite thing called Personality (I like this song—I am rock! You like that video—you are pop!). That celebration of the culture of music, rather than the music itself, has spilled over into the network's current top hits, like The Hills. That particular reality dollop of non-fat Cool Whip expertly employs the hit songs of tomorrow to evoke, along with the swirling cameras, a soaring and sprawling range of feelings. Like music usually is in real life, music on MTV now serves as the illustrative background to the people dating and getting made and dancing and competing and existing in the fore.

And we've TRL to blame/thank for that—for adding a bit of shape to the world as it's seen through the MTV lens. It said "here we are, set at on all sides by movies and television and pretty people and hormones, and here, in brief, is the soundtrack to accompany all of it. And you chose it."

And those huge picture windows overlooking the crowds and lights and glitz, through which we could look out and others could look in! A glass case of emotion!

!!!