I’ve always had a Thing for crazy twins, so the recent deaths of Igor and Grichka Bogdanoff turned out to be a goldmine (for me if not for them.) The twin brothers, who are famous pop culture figures in France, died withing 6 days of each other after falling ill with Covid in December.

They refused Covid vaccinations but denied being afraid of them, much like they denied having plastic surgery, even though they turned their faces into giant surreal puppet masks. What kills me is that they were originally good looking men who must have lost their minds together in a classic case of folie à deux.

The twins became famous in the late 70s as the presenters of the hit science show “Temps X”(described as a cross between Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Mr. Wizard.) They appeared in wacky silver space suits but this was child’s play, in terms of the antics to come.

Over the years, they received dubious doctoral degrees and published academic papers that explained the state of the universe just before the Big Bang. When their work was derided as gibberish, they sued several scientists and magazines for libel.

You will have to google them to get the full story, but if you don’t love them you have a heart of stone. I wish I could know everything about them. One of them had several children, so we’ll see how that works out.

The Bogdanoff Twins reminded me of my favorite twins of all time, Frida and Greta Chaplin. I used to be obsessed with them and I may just be ready to revisit that obsession.

Frida and Greta became famous in the 80s, when they went on trial for stalking a truck driver. They walked and spoke in unison, dressed alike, and most poignantly, says a neighbor, “They even hoovered together.”

Their story is tragic at first glance, but maybe their companionship was a blessing that most of us will never understand. They dressed by looking at each other instead of a mirror! They died thirteen years apart, which must have been an ordeal for the surviving twin, but they were eventually buried one on top of the other in a double cemetery plot.

This is how I want to be buried with my husband! I think I got him to agree to this although we haven’t discussed who goes on top.

Finally, there are Flo and Kay, who I wrote about in 2009 and ended that post by calling Dick Clark a cunt, a statement I stand by today. Flo and Kay are autistic savants, and it may sound condescendingly ableist to call them special but they really are amazing. Enjoy this documentary about them! You’ll be happy to know that they are still with us and doing well. If anything bad ever happens to them, I hope they are together until the last moment…like me and my husband, in our double plot, with me on top, because I weigh less.

Can anyone think of another female vocalist who complained so much about being dumped?

If you happened to see her perform on Saturday Night Live over the weekend, you are probably wondering how you can get those ten minutes back. A tedious new version of some song that her fans loved back in the day when it was only 5 minutes long, it was the stupidest thing ever. My husband and I both laughed and groaned throughout, wondering why there was a video of a couple mooning around in the background. Didn’t she think she could hold our attention with her big chunky white veneers and hair-flipping?

Anyway, if you didn’t see it, the new song is about her break-up with Jake Gyllenhaal, when she was 21 and he was 30. Apparently, the 9 year age difference is one of his felonies, like keeping her scarf. 21 and 30 sounds pretty normal to me. Do couples have to be within a couple of years in age these days? Is anything else exploitation or a power imbalance? Poor Jake really takes a beating, because he dared to get tired of her. But victimhood is her brand. First it was Jon Mayer, boo hoo, then a million other bad, mean boyfriends.

I admit that I don’t know why she’s a star. She seems like such an awful person, obsessed with making money and shifting genres to suit the times. I also admit to a visceral dislike of her physical self. She looks like a rodent and her hunchback or scoliosis is disturbing.

I further admit that she’s been annoying me for years and years. Here’s something I don’t even remember writing!

But it’s so nuts to read a fawning appreciating of her in the New York Times, which I thought was a refuge for normal adults.

“All Too Well” parallels the emotional work that many women have been privately undertaking in the wake of the #MeToo movement: Looking back on past encounters or relationships that left them with a seemingly outsize feeling of unease; wondering what exactly constitutes exploitation or emotional abuse; wishing they could go back and extend some compassion or wisdom to their vulnerable younger selves.

Haha, whatever. If this break-up song is a masterpiece, what is Back to Black?? To paraphrase Etta James, I’d rather go blind than see Taylor Swift perform again.

I wish I had something incisive to say about her as an “artist” or phenomenon, but I’ve always been at a loss, urging millennial friends to explain her appeal. But they always hate her too, because none of my friends are idiots, I guess.

What if all her mean boyfriends got together and wrote a song about dating her?? Why can’t we have that? All the guys would get cancelled for their toxic masculinity, sure, but why can’t they sacrifice themselves for the greater good?

If you can explain Taylor’s success, please, I would love to know! Mean while, enjoy Amy and Etta, who know how to take a romantic punch.

*Scarf exegesis here.

Today there’s an article in The New York Times called “Madonna at 60“.  I am pleased to report that I didn’t, and will not, read it. Madonna is canceled.

Madonna has already taken up too much of my time and emotional energy. I used to rant about her being a cultural scourge, a terrible role model responsible for every subsequent blonde sexpot who made a career out of hardly being able to sing. Plus Lady Gaga.

When I wrote gossip for a living, I found that on any given day, there was some Madonna news. Her family problems, her Instagram provocations, whatever. I was both fascinated and grossed out. I watched her face swell with fillers and took it personally. I flipped out when she appeared on awards shows wearing revealing outfits. I rejoiced when her legs got chunky.

Now I can stop. I don’t even need Chantix. I’m just going to take my business elsewhere. Hating Beyonce is a pretty good substitute, actually.

Who gives a shit about Madge at sixty? She’ll just insist that she’s still relevant and still sexy. Ew.

However! I have collected Madonna pictures to accompany my made-up stories and just for my own entertainment. Please enjoy or disenjoy them before I delete them. And if you’d like to give me an award for canceling her, I graciously accept.

Godammit, why am I the last to know EVERYTHING? Did you guys know there’s another Hadid sister besides Gigi and Bella? This is too much. Or rather, too many. Three too many, actually.

Until recently, I knew next to nothing about Bella. Gigi was the one I thought of as the blight on youth culture and fashion. Her soft butterface is everywhere. She always has the same expression, like she’s not quite awake. She looks like a spoiled rich kid from some obscure Eastern European republic. And she’s often pictured with Kendall Jenner, striding down a street pretending not to notice the paparazzi.

She is also the face of Maybelline or Cover Girl, tainting all my magazines with her sullen pout and weirdly arched eyebrows. She makes me remember that I used to watch the Housewives of Beverly Hills, which featured her mom, a giant blonde gold-digger who I suspected of being a man.

I was vaguely aware of Bella, who is kind of the consolation-prize sister, not blonde and not as pubescently squishy. It turns out that Bella is a big deal in her own right. She’s probably dating an important hip hop artist or NBA star.

My adopted daughter Ali told me about an interview Bella did with Complex magazine that had caused a ruckus. When I hesitated, explaining that I was detoxing from  celebrities, she assured me that it had deep cultural relevance, and she was right.

Bella is the stupidest girl in the world. You will cringe and you will wish you were never born but you will thank me for posting this video.Without it, you just can’t grasp what the world has come to.

So that’s Bella.

But why do we need Alana? What’s the point of her? Why doesn’t she change her name and move somewhere out of the spotlight? I think she’s pretending to be a designer of some kind but I want to not think about her. You can read about her here but don’t come back and tell me anything.

What if there’s a fourth sister?!??

These Hadid girls are a symbol of our decline as much as Donald Trump is, all of them nails in the coffin of civilization.  Thoughts and prayers to all us.

Regarding the recent take-down of white women called “The 5 Types of Becky,” I’d like to register my indignation, EVEN THOUGH white women are not allowed to join any conversation about white privilege.

Our white voices are not welcome because, duh, white! We can’t possibly have anything valid to offer because we are just stupid Becky’s. From our privileged vantage point, we can see and understand nothing, by definition.

All we do is appropriate the cultures of dark-skinned peoples, and we have to be lectured on this while sitting quietly and bowing our heads. Our heads better not have braids on them or god forbid a big ceremonial Native American headdress.

Fuck us, with our appropriated bindi‘s and whatnot. I just learned that gold nameplate necklaces were stolen from black girls in the hood who were innocently celebrating their unique names. God we are fuckers. Here I thought it was a Sex in the City thing but no. My Jewish hairdresser (WHITE PRIVILEGE!) told me that she was given a name-plate bracelet as a baby in an Israeli kibbutz, but fuck her family for ripping off those innocent black girls.

Now we have ruined those nameplates forever.

I read a long list of offensive cultural appropriation crimes committed during the VMA show last week. I can’t remember them (WHITE ALZHEIMER’S PRIVILEGE.) Katy Perry alone was nailed for at least five of them.

I have tried to imagine an essay about The 5 types of Keisha or The 5 types of Guadalupe or The 5 Types of Mei-Ling and I just can’t. Not because I am too nice or color-blind but because I’m not used to categorizing people of different ethnicities. Sue me. (WHITE JEWISH PRIVILEGE.) I can’t and I don’t want to. How would that help, you know?

If you didn’t know that white people have appropriated yoga, get woke! Start learning to apologize or to just suck it up. Defending yourself is a microaggression. Get used to it, Becky.

Let’s think of the small ways we can make our doomed existence more tolerable in the coming year.

I’ll start with words, because they matter.

In 2017, the following words and expressions are hereby banned. If I catch you in the act of using one, I will kill you.

Yassss – No excuse, even ironically. I WILL KILL YOU.

“Dem/Dat ____, though.” – Stop it. You aren’t in Compton. Enough with dis shit.

Push back – Just say disagree or contradict.

Cross-body –  I just hate it and that’s that.

Crop jeans/pants – CROPPED, motherfuckers!

Guys –  Even newscasters now address us as “guys.” It’s not just Taylor Swift. Knock it off.

Athleisure – We’re better than this, aren’t we?

Insta – If you’re too tired to say Instagram, just don’t talk.

Now, let’s do topics that need to be put to rest.

Why Trump won– If I hear “The people wanted change” or “You don’t understand” or “She ran a bad campaign” ONE MORE TIME, someone’s going to die.

Misogyny – I know, it’s bad, and so’s the patriarchy. Next subject!

Ridiculing college kids – what babies, safe spaces, microaggressions, stop coddling them bla bla bla. Shut up with that superiority already, we get it.

Anal sex – no longer shocking, just annoying. Happy now, Lena Dunham? Now move on.

Netflix binging – I don’t care what you loved watching if it includes anything with zombies or cyborgs. It’s safer to keep your awful taste to yourself.

The gig economy – Nope. Shut it.

Millennials –  Same as above.

For clothes, in 2017, here’s my tip: Find out what’s “hot” (bare shoulders, bedroom slippers) and staunchly reject it. If everyone’s wearing it, don’t.

For music in 2017, try listening to 70’s soul or old gospel or garage bands. Make up an obscure rapper and go around praising his influence as the real OG. I thought Lil Yachty was made up but sadly he is real.

Now it’s up to you. What are your suggestions for easing the horror of 2017?

It just occurred to me that too many people online are mentioning Back To The Future. Maybe they’re making a sequel or prequel.

I actually love the term origin story, which I just learned this week. I love it because it’s stupid and pretentious and somehow millennial.  It’s the new way to say prequel as if that term wasn’t hard enough to get used to.

Anyway, Back To The Future was a great film at the time and my kid adored it. We saw it several times.

Now it is 2015 and I could not give a shit about Back To The Future on any level. I don’t care what the original cast is doing or what the remake or prequel or origin story is about. I’ve been done with it for years and years.

Likewise Star Wars. Could not care less. Literally. But too bad for me, because I am doomed to hear about it forever and ever. If I could not have to see the words Carrie Fisher even, I would consider it a small gift from the universe.

I’m through hearing about rape culture or anything remotely related to it. I get it, but I still don’t care. I’m through hearing about how Jennifer Lawrence didn’t get enough money. “Women in Hollywood,” I’m through hearing about your problems. I just don’t care.

Are you finding that your culture is obsessed with stuff you could not care less about? Even if it has gone viral (or especially if it has gone viral?)

Let me know what it is. Please share!

But just one more thing before I forget: How much do you not care about what happened on the Jimmy Fallon show last night? Why do we have to hear about it? Wouldn’t we have watched it when it was on, if we gave a shit about it? I don’t watch it expressly for the purpose of not knowing what was on it!

Christ!

Okay, now you.

We have entered The Ass Age, and The Apocalypse is sure to follow. I would like it to hurry up.

I’m not certain about the beginning of The Ass Age. Jennifer Lopez was the precursor many years ago but no one could’ve imagined what was coming.

Astute bible students may have predicted it, though.

And when the ass saw the angel of the LORD, she fell down under Balaam: and Balaam’s anger was kindled, and he smote the ass with a staff.

That’s just one of 143 times the word ‘ass’ appears in the bible. And as we know, Things Happen For A Reason. The Lord was warning us about the worship of asses. And in the fullness of time, it has come to pass.

Kim Kardashian is the Anti-Christ, obviously. We are suffering for her sins. I am, anyway.

That huge ass is following us everywhere, threatening to block out the sun. Maybe it’s causing Climate Change for all we know. It keeps getting bigger. It will need a wheelbarrow or crane or something if it keeps growing at its present rate.

What does that huge ass want from us?

It has already spawned disturbing imitators, especially in the art of hip-hop, who might be the Apostles. How many Apostles were there? I once has an awful wall-hanging depiction of The Last Supper that I used as a rug, but I failed to count the attendees. Were there eight? Ten?

Whatever. Nicki Minaj and Iggy Azalea are two, and Khloe Kardashian makes three. When we get the full cohort, the doomsday clock will strike midnight. The End Times. It will be a bummer for most of us but for others it will come as a blessed relief. No more huge asses taunting us, frightening us, swelling uncontrollably the The Blob.

We will be free.

I signed up at Twitter, initially, to follow Mrs. Palin and Amanda Palmer.   I couldn’t handle the former but the latter rewarded me with a free concert last night.

Then, I started tweeting just to annoy people. When that didn’t go anywhere, I forgot about Twitter. Then I came back and tried again.

Now, I have 124 followers but sadly for them I have nothing to say. Nontheless, I go there a couple of times a day and torture myself by scrolling through pointless nonsense tweeted by people I don’t know and mostly wouldn’t want to know.

Why are we tweeting, everyone? Whatever the motives that are driving Twitter, it can’t be good for civilization.

Here are my limited observations so far:

1. People want you to know what they ate.
2. People need to communicate every idle scrap of thought that pops into their heads.
3. People like to LOL at one another.
4. People think they derive status from their Tweeting associations.
5. People use Twitter instead of personal email, in order to have an audience.
6. The more people you follow, the more time-consuming it is to find anything interesting.
7. Kanye West is a big deal.
8. It’s important to follow another rapper and then retweet their illiterate musings.

BUT! On a positive note, Twitter has taught me this:

9. It’s fun to read people’s tweets as they watch “X Factor” especially if you’ve never seen it.
10. Rumi Neely is actually smart, witty and gracious. I like her! I stand corrected.

Twitter is adding to the clutter I’m stuffing my brain with on a daily basis and I know it’s time to be more selective. I’ve unsubscribed to a million mailing lists with ten million more to go.   I’m finding that I know too much about Lanvin for Target and too little about world affairs.   It’s going to be tough to unlearn my bad Internet habits. We’ll see how far I get.

Okay. Now explain Twitter.

For the last few days, I’ve had the feeling that there’s nothing interesting on the Internet. Anywhere. For me, as an addict, this is pretty scary. How much fashion, YouTube, politics or gossip can anyone stand? How many weird medical disorders, conjoined twins, opinions, rants or Wikipedia entries can anyone absorb? It’s all bullshit.

On that note, here is a quiz to test your knowledge of pop culture. I’m going to make it up as I go along. Remember that the more questions you can answer correctly, the more you should probably just kill yourself.

No cheating!

1.   Madonna may be upset, but ——- “is her rock.”

2. Which young celebrity/drug addict is NOT a lesbian.

3. Who is her lesbian girlfriend’s famous brother?

4. How long did Angie breastfeed the twins?

5. What sickening actor likes to be pictured without his shirt on?

6. Who is Jessica Simpson dating?

7. What is Beyonce’s new alter ego called?

8. Name Gwen Stefani’s two sons.

8. Name her husband’s teenage daughter.

9. Tom Cruise is —.

10. What is a ‘tweaker?’

11. Donatella’s daughter suffers from ——–.

12. Leonardo is dating ___ ______ because he likes ——.

How did you make out? 12 out of 12=tragic. 8-11=sad. 6-10=average student of pop culture. 1-5=great job, keep it up! 0=cheater!

* I’m not giving answers, because you know if you know them. If you don’t know an answer, give yourself a nice pat on the back, you’re better off.