So, according to Mother Jones, the United States government has apparently been using pop songs to torture prisoners in Guantanamo Bay. They even give a playlist of the various songs they allegedly use as torture mechanisms. In my mind, this is all almost too good to be true. I mean, music snobs have been talking about this as if it's a joke for years, and now it's actually HAPPENING, 4REAL, in our very own torture chambers!!!!1!

[dialogue between hipster music snobs]

STORME: Oh my god, is this "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne?

TRILLIUM: Yeah, I think it is.

STORME: Oh my god, this song is SO BAD.

TRILLIUM: YEAH.

STORME: Oh my god, they should use this to TORTURE people!!!!

TRILLIUM and STORME: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHA!

Now. If I was going to torture anyone with music, here are the songs I would choose, personally:

1. Creed - "With Arms Wide Open" (yes, I considered "Higher," but the way Scott Stapp says "Oh-puhhhn" is enough to cause your brain to spontaneously combust if you hear it enough times)

2. Evanescence - "My Immortal" (die, die, die)

3. Baha Men - "Who Let The Dogs Out" (is this too obvious? At what point in time did anyone in the world ever actually like this song?)

4. Nickelback - "Rockstar" (does Nickelback know that they actually ARE rockstars? So lyrics like "Hey, I wanna be a rockstar" are totally irrelevant, and really come off more like a snub in the face than a yeah-I-can-relate shout-out)

5. Celine Dion

print out a copy to keep -- in case you ever forget what it is you like as a white person:

Stuff White People Like

Guess what? Now there are shoes that are actually small cars you wear on your feet. You thought those were called "rollerskates," didn't you? You were WRONG.

introducing: iShoes.

There are some celebrities (henceforth referred to as cele-Britties) of whom I consistently ask (i.e. six or more times a day): HOW ARE YOU REAL?

I guess what I'm going to write is somewhat inevitable: How does Britney Spears continue to exist the way that she does? Let's talk briefly about Britters, shall we? Okay. [Keep in mind that all these stories -- every last one of 'em -- broke within the last week.]

• Our girl told doctors at UCLA she's on Adderall and has been taking ten laxatives a day (She's still looking hella pudgy, so I'm doubting the lax number, but whatevs). This was on January 31. Then she waxed poetic about how her mom's been sleeping with her latest boyfried (two things to note: if Britney Spears is officially NOT a M.I.L.F. [N.A.M.I.L.F.], then her mother is an I.G.O.M.E.A.L.M.O.F.B.I.F.T.M [I'd-Gouge-Out-My-Eyes-And-Light-Myself-On-Fire-Before-I'd-Fuck-This-Mom].; Also, Britney's new BF looks like a member of Al Qaida who dropped out to become a Backstreet Boy [picture available here]).
• The next day, the UCLA labels Britney "gravely disabled." Which I personally think is hilarious.
• Then she's committed. Obs. I guess this was expected -- reports The Superficial:

"...The LAPD and FAA already had previously arranged plans to facilitate Britney's magical journey to cuckoo town. Ever since her last meltdown, plans were laid to expedite an inevitable return to the hospital. (You're welcome, California taxpayers!) Britney's lack of sleep was the trigger for today's excursion"

• Probably my favorite part of this story is that the AP has already begun to prepare Brit's obit. This is absolutely true, as it has been officially reported by Us Weekly (over which there is absolutely no higher authority):

"The Associated Press began preparing Britney Spears’ obituary within the past month, Usmagazine.com has learned.

"We are not wishing it, but if Britney passed away, it’s easily one of the biggest stories in a long time," AP entertainment editor Jesse Washington tells Us."

Pictures of Britney in the last month have been especially good (which I'd post here if I knew how, but I'm sure a Google Image Search for "Britney + Spears + Trainwreck would yield good results).

Do I feel bad for Brit? No. But I do wonder if she's real. I've long subscribed to the theory that Anna Nicole Smith was not an actual person, but an automaton of Artificial Intelligence created by rocket scientists who sold out years ago and became underground workers for the tabloid industry. Britney's perfect cocktail of catastrophe and hilarity that is her everyday life really backs up this theory.

The real question is: Who's next?

Everyone loves the ACLU. Maybe that's not true. Torturers and rapists, for instance, do not tend to be fond of the ACLU. But even Republicans like the ACLU sometimes. It's just really hard to hate an organization whose basic goal is to protect human rights (maybe this is a little naive. I think most Republicans actually hate the ACLU. But go with me for a minute here). At the very least, no one can accuse the ACLU (as anyone could accuse Nancy Pelosi, for example) of having no balls. As Wikipedia reminds us, "The ACLU is no stranger to taking controversial stances. Often, its clients are notoriously unpopular such as Neo-Nazi organizations and the North American Man/Boy Love Association, (NAMBLA), a group which supports lifting all age restrictions on pederasty" (by the way: I am an active member of the NAMBLA, and let me tell YOU, the membership benefits for that shit are off the HOOK).

But then the ACLU goes ahead and does this stupid shit:

ACLU: Sex in Restroom Stalls Is Private

Really ACLU? Really? I mean, as if the NAMBLA thing wasn't enough, you didn't have the time or energy to put up a sign on your Web site that simply said, "We're the ACLU and we're really gay and also Larry Craig should hella bone us in a restroom stall because we like the things he buys at Men's Warehouse?"

I just think it's dumb when there's all kinds of unacceptable stuff going on all over the country that the ACLU is spending so much freaking time making liberals look like morons by parading around a nonissue like sex in restroom stalls. People like Larry Craig have the money to get a room, that's all.

Although I guess I might as well shoot this in the air: Anyone want to do it in a restroom stall with me? Because if we got caught, the ACLU could get us a lawyer. K great.

All I have to say is: Finally. Yesterday, someone finally put up a Wiki for R. Kelly's masterpiece "Trapped In The Closet." I know that ever since I first saw "Trapped In The Closet" (here's the YouTube of Chapters 1-5, but you should really get out and buy the two [UNRATED!!!] collections from Amazon or wherever as soon as possible, because the bonus features are off the hook. I know. It was all I asked for for my birthday, other than a tingler [not as dirty as it sounds].)

What Real Wikipedia has to say about Trapped In The Closet is this:

"Trapped in the Closet" is a series of songs released by R&B singer R. Kelly in the late summer of 2005. The songs relate an ongoing narrative, which Kelly exploited by sending chapters to radio stations one at a time to generate interest. It has no chorus and is told in a conversational manner, using dramatics and cliffhangers between the episodes. It tells the story of how a one night stand can set off a chain reaction of events that reveal a web of lies and deception. (continued)

While I appreciate some of the colorful language used here ("web of lies and deception" is the highlight here, obviously), the entry leaves me wanting more, asking more questions than I have answers for. Plus, the stark and simple HTML and CSS coding Real Wikipedia calls "standard" is just not up to R. Kelly's much higher, much blingier needs.

Long nights have I wasted, lying awake, wishing there was an Internet forum that gave justice to what might be the greatest poetical, musical and cinematic masterpiece of our generation.

Until now.

Highlights from the Official Trapped In The Closet Wiki Include:

• An extensive chapter guide, which not only gives profiles for the leading characters in each chapter, but also provides superlatives for each chapter (for instance, "biggest brawl," "biggest drama," and "biggest 'Oh hell no' moment." For chapter one, the biggest 'Oh hell no' moment was when "Sylvester disvoicers [sic] he's on the 5th floor and can't get thru the window," according to the site.)
• A place where you, too, can get an account and contribute to the ongoing debates and debacles surrounding the show.
• Lots of polls, where fans can debate some of the more cryptic moments in the hip-hopera (For example: "What do you think is in the package discussed in Chapter 22?" I'm not going to tell you what I voted for, as I don't want to influence your own vote, so don't even TRY to ask me.)
• Lots of hot pictures of R. Kelly looking upset about stuff.
• Character guides and Best Of moments.

(For the record: Weird Al's parody, "Trapped In The Drive-Thru" is not as good. But give him a few sequels [and a non-animated video] and it might just be another "Albuquerque" in the making.)

You thought Britney and LiLo were the only ones who were totally washed up these days. How wrong you were.

Last Tuesday some aryan Dutch kids were just minding their own business at a swank resort when an 8-foot Lego man crashed the party -- by mysteriously washing up in the Dutch sea.

I know what you're thinking: It's Amsterdam, so they were probably smoking hash that had, unbeknownst to them, been laced with (intense) acid, right? I thought the same thing. But there are pictures! There's even this aptly-titled slide show ("Giant Lego man found in Dutch sea")!

One thing that confuses me even more than the appearance of the Lego man ('cause... that's not so unusual, is it?) is the moniker tattooed on his bright blue torso: "No Real Than You." Okay, #1) WTF?! and #2) Dutch people are not going to be able to read that and #3) WTF!? There's definitely like a verb or a quantifier or some other article missing in there. And yet... it remains kind of ominous, doesn't it? What could that possibly mean?

And then I started thinking about it. And I wondered: why wasn't the disappearance of this guy reported? I mean: he's huge and bright yellow -- it's not like he could have surreptitiously slipped away, you know? It all seems awfully suspicious.

Anyway, the Dutch people eventually "placed [him] in front of the drinks stall," which can really only result in heartbreak. I mean, some totally hammered broad is definitely going to drunkenly pick Lego Guy up, take him home, and wake up the next morning with a regrettable hangover, a formidable rectangular dent in her mattress and an eerily deep desire to construct a crude model of the Death Star out of interlocking plastic blocks.

(Be warned: I'm relatively certain the following entry is about 78 percent racist)

It turns out Kanye West may be the Webster or Oxford (was Oxford a person?) of our time. Page six reports:

"Only white people and older black people say 'bling' now. If a white person uses slang too early, then that makes them look like a wigger. But if black people use slang too late, then it makes them look like a wigger."

Damn. I was just getting accustomed to saying "bling." That and "phat." Sometimes, when I was feeling really crazy, I'd say them together ("Hey Wyvern, that ice you're wearing is some mad phad bling, muthafxcka!" [although I doubt we can say "ice" anymore, either]). I guess I just really suck at being a black person. I've had to come to terms without at various junctions of my life -- particularly when I was endeavoring to be the starting center for the WNBA (fxck you too, Don Imus). Still, I think Kanye's statement on "bling"'s obsolescence begs at least three questions:

1. What constitutes an "older black" person? Whitney Houston? Bill Cosby? Or, like.... Frederick Douglass? Man, can't you picture Freddy talking about that ye olde "bling?"
2. When is it "too early" to use a slang word? 6 a.m.?
3. Can black people really be "wiggers?" Doesn't that kind of conflict with the very definition of a "wigger?" Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the "W" stands for "White." Either that or "Walrus." Or "Wu Tang Clan." Damn it, nothing makes sense anymore.

Kanye's vernacular-altering public statement on the obsolescence of everyone's favorite ugly-jewelry descriptor prompted me also to do a little research in the field of today's hip slang. Below are the ins and the outs of the urban speak of city youth. Read up if you're planning on pulling a 21 Jump Street any time soon.

STILL HOT: bro, lumps, bone, grill, word

LUKEWARM: fool, bounce, fly, trippin', rad

"ICE" COLD: gravy, talk to the hand, groovy, fab

Amend and append as you see fit.

Until I can find someone who miraculously got their hands on a Wii (and, subsequently, the Wii version of Mario Party, which I hear is AWESOME), I'm going to bide my time listening to Kraftwerk on this incredible subwoofer that was crafted to look like one of those question-mark brick blocks in the old Super Mario games. Seriously: check it out. Unfortunately, you can't actually buy these specially-made subwoofers, because they aren't for sale. But I'm totally prepared to pilfer one, because I'd rather go to jail than live one more moment without a stereo system that makes me feel like I live in the Cloud World.

If I could be any Mario character, I would surely be Yoshi. I think Yoshi probably gets a lot of tail. Oh, sure, he looks cute and innocent, but at the end of the day you know that Mario's going home with Luigi, Princess Peach is still in Bowser's trenches, Toad is crying and masturbating to pictures of Toadette, and Yoshi's picking up mad honeys.

On a related note, here's a link to a Collegehumor video that uses the Super Mario mushrooms to teach a valuable and tough lesson in existentialism. You live; you die; such is the plight of the mushrooms. And of us all...