Not so long ago, I lodged the following complaint against the post-modern vampire, as personified in Twilight and the like:

Meaning enough already — what used to be fresh and inventive is now the tired norm. The romanticization of the dreamy nosferatu should signal the end of the line for this fantasy-fiction aesthetic. I don’t know that future vampire tales need to revert back to the Bram Stoker trappings, but a fresh reinvention is in order.

Naturally, my plea was roundly ignored, as the realms of fashion and pop culture continue to chug along on the fanged-undead kick:

“The vampire is the new James Dean,” said Julie Plec, the writer and executive producer of “The Vampire Diaries,” a forthcoming series on the CW network based on the popular L. J. Smith novels about high school femmes and hommes fatales. “There is something so still and sexy about these young erotic predators,” she said.

This generation of undead prowls high school hallways and dimly lighted dance clubs as menacing — and as seductive — as they have ever been. The June premiere of the second season of “True Blood,” in which Sookie, played by Anna Paquin, is reunited with her imperious fanged suitor, drew 3.4 million viewers, making it HBO’s most-watched program since the “Sopranos” finale in 2007.

Charlaine Harris has just published “Dead and Gone,” the ninth novel in her Sookie Stackhouse series, variations on Southern Gothic fiction on which “True Blood” is based. The publishing world has been intrigued by “The Strain,” a first installment in a planned trilogy written by the film director Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan, about bloodthirsty predators run amok in Manhattan.

The style world, too, has come under the vampire’s spell, in the shape of the gorgeous leather- and lace-clad night crawlers who have crept into the pages of fashion glossies.

As silly as the vampirific trend is in books, movies, and TV, it’s doubly ludicrous when applied to fashion — and that’s an industry built upon the sublimely outlandish. To me, it comes off as nothing more than goth revisited, with maybe a hint of blood-red color. It’s ironically anemic in concept.

I guess this meme will have to run its course via overkill. But even without actually directly intaking any of its manifestations, the marketing osmosis I experience from this movement has already stricken me with bloodsucker fatigue. Somebody drain me, quick…

Maybe you heard that the King of Pop died last week. But that doesn’t mean that the music’s died — far from it:

“There are dozens and dozens of songs that did not end up on his albums,” said Tommy Mottola, who from 1998 to 2003 was chairman and CEO of Sony Music, which owns the distribution rights to Jackson’s music. “People will be hearing a lot of that unreleased material for the first time ever. There’s just some genius and brilliance in there.”

The releases, Mottola said, “could go on for years and years — even more than Elvis.”

Since Jackson’s death Thursday, there has been an enormous, almost unprecedented demand for the King of Pop’s music. Nielsen SoundScan said Wednesday that three of his records — “Number Ones,” “Essential Michael Jackson” and “Thriller — were the best-selling albums of the week, and 2.3 million tracks of his have been downloaded in the U.S. alone.

When a music star of Jackson’s stature dies, labels typically comb through their archives to pull out anything they can release. New compilations of recordings by performers such as Elvis, Tupac and Jeff Buckley are still released nearly every year.

Mottola, who has described himself as the “shepherd and gatekeeper” of Jackson’s catalog and is familiar with it better than anyone, said that for every album Jackson made — including classics like 1979’s “Off the Wall” and 1982’s “Thriller” — he recorded several tracks that didn’t make it onto the records.

I subscribe to the theory that unreleased material was put into the vault for a reason, i.e. that the artist didn’t consider it good enough for public consumption. So as much as I’d love to hear “new” music from MJ, I don’t think it’s fair to posthumously expose tracks and song elements that he didn’t see fit to apply a final polish to — in fact, it’s nothing but exploitative.

That said, it appears there was at least one ambitious project that Jackson was ready to release into the wild:

Two weeks before he died, he wrapped up work on an elaborate production dubbed the “Dome Project,” which could be the final finished video piece overseen by Jackson. Two people with knowledge of the project confirmed its existence Monday to The Associated Press on condition they not be identified because they signed confidentiality agreements.

Four sets were constructed for Jackson’s production, including a cemetery recalling his famous “Thriller” video. Shooting for the project lasted from June 1 to June 9. Now in post-production, the project is expected to be completed next month.

It’d be nice if the vultures now picking over his estate stopped with the Dome Project, and let that be Jackson’s final creative legacy. Wishful thinking, I know, especially when there’s years’ worth of residual dollars to be made.

The continuing rockiness of the print media business was underscored yesterday when Vibe Magazine, one of the more recognizable pop music outlets, announced that it was shutting down.

Today, there’s news that co-founder Quincy Jones wants to buy back the publication and keep it alive. But note the approach:

“They [Wicks Group] just messed my magazine all up, but I’m gonna get it back. You better believe it, I’m'a take it online because print and all that stuff is over,” Jones told EbonyJet.com.

Jones sees a market for the magazine, especially in an online format, since Vibe magazine CEO Steve Aaron said the Web site was profitable.

Details are obviously sketchy at this early stage. But the “vibe” I’m getting is that Jones isn’t so much interested in saving the magazine that was Vibe — he primarily wants to keep the Vibe brandname going.

Because really, that name is what really holds the pop-cultural cachet. At its height, Vibe was the hiphop/soul/R&B equivalent of Rolling Stone, and was acknowledged as such. Toward that end, the Vibe brand was extended into areas beyond the magazine, notably as the notorious Vibe Music Awards — which, despite not being held in years, is still a familiar entity among music fans.

So yeah, I can see Quincy Jones lending his considerable reputation and resources toward preserving Vibe. But that preservation will be in the form of future Vibe concert tours, Vibe merchandise, Vibe music imprints — everything but a magazine, basically.

If you haven’t seen the first marketing salvos for Sacha Baron Cohen’s upcoming flick Brüno, you will soon enough. The above photo of a taxicab rooftop-signage placement has been a common-enough sight in New York for at least the past month.

What I like about it, and indeed, about much of the movie’s ad placements so far, is the presence of those two little dots above the “u”. That would be the umlaut, an accent-like diacritical marking that comes in for some heavy derision in North America:

You think you’re so damn cool, huh? Just hanging out, chillin’, above all those vowels. You’re all, “Ooh, look at me, I’m a chic umlaut. I make girls’ names look modish, like Zoë and Chloë… God, you’re such a poseur, umlaut. You’re nothing but two measly dots. You’re a Eurotrash colon lying down. Nobody thinks you’re cool.

This is precisely the effect that Baron Cohen is going for. Because it makes only the rarest of appearance in English (I believe “naïve” is the only word that uses it, and it routinely goes without the double-dotting), its appearance is an instantly-recognizable signifier of foreignness — and snooty European (if not Scandinavian) foreignness, to boot. So not only does Brüno employ it in the very title of the film, but also plants that umlaut freely among the promotional language, like a comedic badge. Thus does the theatrical release date in July become “Jüly”, and so on.

This joke wouldn’t work if umlaut usage wasn’t already pretty trod upon on this side of the Atlantic. Despite being actually useful in Germanic grammar (basically, the mark is a space-saving substitute for a following-letter “e”, so “Brüno” can also be spelled “Brueno”), its most common manifestation here has been as purely stylistic embellishment for pretentious rock band names.

So really, Brüno’s wanton use of the umlaut is only reinforcing the established tradition of diacritical mis-marking in American pop culture. It’s a visual cue that we all pick up on, and laugh with. Which is the whole point of this type of comedy. It just so happens that, as a result, no vowel is safe.

A European quest to secure a foothold in Africa’s vast energy resource supply has created an unfortunate English-language translation:

Russia’s energy giant Gazprom has signed a $2.5bn deal with Nigeria’s state operated NNPC, to invest in a new joint venture.

The new firm, to be called Nigaz, is set to build refineries, pipelines and gas power stations in Nigeria.

That’s right, “Nigaz”. It’s missing a “g”, and no doubt the accepted pronunciation will be “nigh-gahz” or even “nee-gahz”; but basically, for American English speakers, we’re in NWA territory.

For further consideration of the branding shortfall, I couldn’t have said it better myself:

Apparently Gazprom, a Global 500 company with nearly 400,000 employees (no exaggeration) doesn’t have a single marketing person who speaks ENGLISH or is even remotely familiar with American slang. YO! Gazprom! I don’t mean to be dissin’ ya’ll, but Shizzle! What the hizzle??? Nigaz??? I might just have to shoot the five witcha, or at least sick the naming po-pos on ya. Again: Nigaz???? Have you NO skrilla to do some of that linguistic or cultural screenin’?? Were you guys crunked up when you thought of that name???

Represent, Russkies.

Not content to be merely loud and mindless, director Michael Bay felt that Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen needed one more distasteful touch: Offensive African-American racial stereotyping, in Autobot guise.

The reason for the uproar are Skids and Mudflap, two robots designed as compact Chevys, fight each other, and are forced to admit they can’t read. One in particular has a gold tooth but producers aren’t saying which one.

AP Film Critic Christy Lemire described the bots as ‘Jar Jar Binks in car form.’ Harry Knowles of “Ain’t It Cool News” went one step further, encouraging his readers not to see the film…

“They don’t really have any positive effect on the film,” Tasha Robertson, associate editor at The Onion.com, said. “They only exist to talk in bad ebonics, beat each other up and talk about how stupid each other is.”

Interesting that the headlines describe these two characters as “jive-talking”. Because to me, that conjures up forebears that are less Star Wars, and more Airplane!. To wit:

I will say that the sole funny moment from the ill-conceived Airplane II: The Sequel was when Jive Dude Number 2 shows up, and he’s improbably still “talkin’ jive” into the mid-1980s…

Four years ago, I got a kick out of the sorta-tricky layout that pop artist Julian Opie used on his website: A replication of the old-look Mac Classic OS9 desktop, complete with the washed-out colors and slightly-pixelated folder and file icons.

I’m a little surprised that he’s retained that motif to this day, with only a couple of rearranged “icons” (really page links) to indicate change. But I’m also pleased, because it indicates a commitment to constancy in an ever-fluid Web 2.0 landscape. Besides, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it — especially when it works so well as an eye-catching website design that stands out from the online clutter.

I’ve gotta say that, despite being unmistakably confined within my browser window, Opie’s site still manages to “fool” me for a couple of seconds into thinking I’m navigating an old Mac computer, to the point where I’m double-clicking on “desktop items” like Sara Dancing. And I haven’t touched an OS9 machine in years. If that doesn’t speak to the effectiveness of this illusion, nothing does.

Relax, No. 6 straphangers: The Hollywood-hijacking depicted in The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 logistically could never happen on the real subway line.

“Good luck hijacking this train during rush hour,” said Mark Meyer, 61, who has been riding the notoriously crowded 6 train twice a day for the past 11 years. “I don’t know how all these gunmen are going to squeeze into the car,” he said. “They would have to empty some people out first.”

Heck, the bandits might not even make it onto the platform of the Pelham Bay Park station, said Bronx resident Angella Rojas, 46.

“That token clerk at the booth is mean and angry. He won’t even give you change for the machine,” she said. “That man could take out all four bad guys with his glare. Seriously!”

The 6 has been my default train for a while now, as I’ve somehow managed to confine myself to the East Side for practically all professional and personal purposes. It’s a long walk to/from the Bleecker Street station, but a pretty easy one. I can testify that it’s an uneventful line, so it’s hard to imagine dramatics taking place.

Funny thing about “Pelham One Two Three”: For years, I always thought that it referred to the 1-2-3 lines. Pure ignorance on my part, as I’d never seen the original movie until just last year, and so wasn’t familiar with the plot. It’s odd to refer to any NYC subway train by its departure time anyway, even if it is the origination station; but then, I’m not in the train-hijacking business, so what do I know…

As far as pop-cultural mindshare, neither movie version cuts it for me anyway. I’ll never watch the current release, not least because it dispensed with the iconic color code-names for the villains (were the producers afraid that audiences would think Reservoir Dogs‘ Mr. Pink et al were being ripped off??). And while the original was a fun ’70s time capsule, I had a hard time taking the usually-comic Walter Matthau seriously as a hard-boiled detective. Personally, I’ll always associate the title with its lyrical mention by the Beastie Boys in “Sure Shot”.

I’m not even a little bit interested in this weekend’s Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival, which looks like just one more merchandising platform in an already-oversaturated concert landscape.

But I am interested in seeing Triumph the Insult Comic Dog soon on “The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien”, when he’ll be throwing down on the Bonnaroo-er scene.

Sounds like it’s easy pickings for the cigar-chompin’ puppy-puppet:

He offered pithy observations about the festival like: “They’ve got more stages than syphilis.” About one Bonnaroo act, the now middle-aged Beastie Boys, he said: “They’re a little more like the Pep Boys logo.”…

And Phish fans at Bonnaroo (where the band was playing two headlining sets) make for nearly as good material as the similarly devoted “Star Wars” fans Triumph memorably skewered in a sketch.

Rural Tennessee may never be the same again.

On the strength of my blog mention of the author back in December, Brooklyn’s own Soft Skull Press tapped me to do a brief review of Michael Muhammad Knight’s new novel, “Osama Van Halen”. Thanks to publicity assistant Carrie Dieringer for reaching out and sending me the review copy.

“Osama Van Halen” is presented as a follow-up to Knight’s debut effort, “The Taqwacores”. While the themes and attitude regarding identity crisis for young Westernized Muslims are prominent in the new book, Knight goes a step further with a strong autobiographical angle: The real heart of “Osama” delves into the author’s struggles to reconcile his own feelings as a convert to Islam, on both the cultural and ethnic levels. There’s no attempt to mask this aim, as Knight injects himself into the main narrative, integrally interacting with his fictional characters; again, this is a next-step move, since in “Taqwacores”, he created a conventional fictional character to stand-in for himself.

Inasmuch as this is Knight’s story, presenting it as an absurdist novel often comes across as unnecessary giftwrapping. As entertaining as the postmodern punk-rock landscape here is, with Muslim zombies and Qur’an-derived superpower-granting spells keeping things lively, Knight falls back often enough on undisguised personal memoir — in particular, with the “F. Scott Fitzgerald vs. Five Desi Girls” chapter — that the read becomes too bumpy. When Knight’s character is finally confronted over his inner conflicts, the dramatic sword-tipped resolution is almost expected, and the exchange with avenging angel Rabeya veers toward straw-man argument.

The individual chapters in “Osama” feel more like separate short stories, so I wonder if this book wasn’t strung together, with a grafted-on thin narrative, to achieve that. That’s definitely the case with the book’s marketing, which focuses solely upon a single, inconsequential subplot (a revenge-fantasy kidnapping of Matt Damon). If so, I think it would have worked better as a collection of shorts, interconnected only by appearances by Knight the character and Amazing Ayyub, his radical Job-like doppelganger. The flow would have been much less forced.

That said, Knight’s depiction of American Muslim youth culture is pretty compelling. The melding of pop-rock-punk subculture with tradition-rooted religion plays out in an enlightening way. Knight’s actually at his best when he taps into this raw scene and reveals it, complete with contradictions and compromises. Even the fantasy magical-realism sequences centered around Amazing Ayyub play out pretty strongly when they’re allowed to fully take over the narrative.

I found myself being reminded of Jonathan Lethem, in terms of voice, while reading “Osama”. In particular, I detected some parallels with Lethem’s “The Fortress of Solitude”, at least in the recollection of childhood and spiritual development. Maybe it was also the superpowers featured in both books — along with invisibility, Knight throws in a mention of human flight, which may or may not be a veiled reference to plot elements from “Solitude”.

And of course, I have to take note of the New York State backdrop for much of “Osama”. While the setting is far-flung Buffalo (the same as Knight’s real-world home base), there’s a semi-cryptic mention of my own upstate hometown, Newburgh, toward the end. That’s all the more jarring considering the recent “Newburgh Four” synagogue-bombing terror plot, and Knight’s own afterword addressing another, unsettling life-imitates-art event from this book.

Overall, “Osama” is a raucous read, with an energy that overcomes a questionable plot structure. The author has plenty to say, and even if he felt the need to divide it between himself and a fictionalized version of himself, it’s worth taking all in.

What’s the most interesting thing about Dos Equis beer’s “Most Interesting Man in the World”, which has parked itself in the pop-cultural garage of TV advertising pitchmen?

To me, it’s that the current run of this campaign is, in fact, the second swipe at promoting this character and theme. The actor behind the beard, Jonathan Goldsmith, has been playing this part since 2006. And I remember the first wave of these commercials making the rounds in 2007.

They didn’t make an impact on first exposure, and went away for a long while. But Dos Equis must have seen enough promise in the concept to stick with it, because the same spots started running again this year. This time, the “Stay Thirsty, My Friends” tagline struck a chord, and a beer icon was (belatedly) born.

Shows what second chances can yield. If only it was believable that such a worldly gadabout would guzzle such pisswater…

I don’t know if this cover art for Britney Spears‘ single “Kill the Lights” came out at the same time as when the track was “leaked” online, back in November. Possibly it’s much newer than that, having come out after the “Circus” album was released in December.

Either way, it’s new to me. And while the song is pretty weak, I’m enchanted with its accompanying visual. I particularly like the arm-length leather gloves, and how they provide a strong contrasting frame for Britney’s hair and face. Simple composition overall, but well done.

Too bad the song doesn’t live up to its title. I like “kill the lights” as a lyrical hook. Something to remix, maybe…

At least I got a nice, colorful photograph out of my day-long stint at jury duty. I cameraphoned this inflatable Spider-Man on West Broadway, right outside Balloon Saloon. He was fairly large, too — probably five feet tall, which I’m guessing practically life-sized for this web-slinger (and of course, even bigger on Flickr).

He was also for sale. I was tempted to duck into the store to buy him and one other balloon-form Marvel superhero, for my little twin nephews. But I was on my lunch break, and time was running short, so I settled for this picture instead.

I don’t know how I missed this: Bret Easton Ellis has dredged up “Less Than Zero” to write a direct sequel set in the present-day, called “Imperial Bedrooms”.

“Imperial” would be a direct sequel, because much of Ellis’ fiction subsequent to “Zero” has been set in the same world, with supporting characters from prior works further carrying on a larger meta-narrative. Conversely, the former principals would reappear in the backgrounds of those later works. “Zero” protagonist Clay had a brief section devoted to his first-person narration in “The Rules of Attraction”, and as far as I know, that was the final time he “appeared” in Ellis’ world until now.

Actually, it’s a bit unclear just what Ellis has dredged up — his book or the 1987 movie adaptation — in writing this follow-up. Because they’re two different animals, with really only superficial resemblance to one another. Yet it sounds like the author has written a sequel to the movie’s storyline, instead of the novel’s:

Easton Ellis is hoping that a movie would reunite [James] Spader, [Andrew] McCarthy, Jamie Gertz and others — and, after Robert Downey Jr.’s well-chronicled substance-abuse difficulties and subsequent triumph over them, feels that the recent Oscar-nominee could bring something special to a second turn as Julian Wells. “His character in the book is sober,” the author explained. “Fragile, but sober.”

“[A second ‘Less Than Zero’ movie] can either be a stunt and seem really gimmicky, or it could work out. But I think it would be of interest,” he explained. “Now that I’m finally done with the book I’m thinking ‘God, what if Fox wants to do this as a film?’ Because Fox did the original and I think there’s a rights issue involved…I think it would be a great idea. We’ll see.”

One thing: Downey’s Julian character dies at the end of the film, unlike in the book. So I guess Easton Ellis is thinking more about a reboot of the movie storyline. Or more likely, he’s just blowing smoke, because it’ll probably be a tough sell to reunite the original cast anyway.

I’m not convinced of the merits in having Clay “reappear here”, twenty-five years later. “Zero” is a great period piece, so I don’t see what’s to be gained by updating the milieu, other than personal catharsis:

Ellis now lives in a small apartment in West Hollywood, and he has been working on a sequel to “Less Than Zero,” which will come out next spring. The narrator is Clay, the spoiled, cocaine-deadened teen of the first book, twenty-five years down the road. “Clay is probably a more villainous version of me,” Ellis said.

We’ll see. Hopefully, this won’t inspire a similar 80s revisit of “Zero” literary twin, Jay McInerney’s “Bright Lights, Big City”.

It happens to all of us eventually, especially after an election: I’ve been plucked for jury duty in the State (and County) of New York.

I already served on a jury case in Florida only five years ago, and for a juicy murder trial, to boot. You’d think I’d get a civicness chit for that and get a free pass on this…

That’s why I’m up and about. I’m due down at the juror assembly room on Thomas Street in about an hour, and I figured I would reduce the chances of any snafus by setting out early. Plus, they’ll be patting me and my gear down for security purposes, so every extra minute counts.

It’s a drag, for sure. I’m really hoping that I don’t get picked, because the timing could hardly get any worse; I’m expecting to get super-busy inside of the next week or two. As it is, I can probably manage burning off the better part of the day at the courthouse — but only because the juror pool will be provided with free wi-fi so that I can actually get some work done.

Anyway, as I see it, I’ve got a couple of options for wriggling out of this unpicked:

- The Homer Simpson Method. Decidedly chancy.

- Invoking the judge-repellent jury nullification card:

A little-known facet of common law dating back to Elizabethan England, jury nullification happens when a jury hands down a “not guilty” verdict — but not because they think the defendant is innocent. Instead, they’re making a statement about the validity of the law itself… Throughout the mid-1800s, northern juries would frequently nullify prosecutions against people who violated the Fugitive Slave Laws. And, during Prohibition, juries around the country nullified numerous alcohol control violations… Either way, most judges don’t want to deal with a juror who might pull the nullification card, so if you bring it up, you’ll likely be eliminated from the jury pool.

Also somewhat chancy, seems like. But at least it has more legal standing than an animated sitcom.

UPDATE: Rats. The summons didn’t mention that this would be a two-day commitment. Meaning that I’m going to be here likely all day today and some/all tomorrow (and an outside chance of Friday morning as well). Not pleased.

UPDATE 2: It’s early afternoon, and it’s brutal here. I haven’t been called in yet, but probably will be within the next hour or so. But I’m bored stiff. Wi-fi helps some, but I simply can’t gear up to work on even the light stuff that I had set aside for today (part of that is because I need to do some image/photo searching on the Internetz, and for some reason the New York State Unified Court System blocks access to Flickr and several other image-storage sites — weird).

Really don’t think I can stand a second day of this. I’m really hoping that the lawyers take one look at me and decide, “No way do I want this character on my jury”…

UPDATE FINAL: Banzai! Turns out that today was an uncommonly light day on the court’s docket, and they called only half the people in the room to serve as jurors. I wasn’t one of them, so I get to go home — and not need to come in tomorrow! Jury duty is completed, I get the credit, I get the big $40 check mailed to me, and my name doesn’t go back into the jury pool for another six years! Best-case scenario, really, after things started looking bleak during the long afternoon wait.

I realize I’ve come off as pretty whiny about all this, especially as expressed via my Twitterstream. It wasn’t exactly torture, but it was definitely tedious — not conducive to doing any serious work on my laptop. I’m just glad I’ve done my civic duty in the most painless way possible. See you in 2015, Unified Court System!

The chief reason why I never sought out to play “Guitar Hero” or “Rock Band” was because, frankly, I considered gyrating with that plastic guitar controller to be extremely dorky, no better than air-guitaring.

But a videogame-enabled plastic oldstyle vinyl-record turntable, hearkening back to the golden age of rap? That I’ll gladly indulge in, via the musical fantasy-fulfillment spin-off (pun!) “DJ Hero”. No, nothing at all dorky about simulated needle-scratchin’…

I’m actually not running out to buy this game kit, along with a current-generation gaming console on which to play it. But plenty of other wannabe DJs will, which is what’s prompting Jay-Z, Eminem, and other musicians to contribute their work into this outlet:

The complete list of tracks the rappers are providing is still being worked out. Jay-Z plans on including Izzo (H.O.V.A.) and Dirt Off Your Shoulder for sure. Also possible: tracks from his in-the-works Blueprint 3 album. “I have a ton of content, I just need the pipeline,” he says. “I love the freedom of (DJ Hero). I could wake up tomorrow morning with the idea for a song and call the guys at Activision and start working on getting it out.”

Jay-Z has certainly gotten the religion about videogames as an effective and lucrative channel for delivering music. That pipeline seems like a goldmine, despite a recent slump in the genre’s sales.

What I find most amusing: That a good chunk of the fans playing “DJ Hero” will never have come in contact with a turntable in any other context, given the demise of mass-market vinyl. I’m sure the youngest of tykes will assume that it was never anything else but a videogames controller.

I can’t find anything online, but at some point today, I could have sworn I overheard a quirky promo commercial for this year’s Scripps National Spelling Bee that invoked — of all things — the funk-rock ’80s classic “Word Up!” by Cameo:

Nice synergy. I guess as far as pop-cultural tie-ins go, it was either this or The Trashmen’s “Surfin’ Bird (Bird Is The Word)”.

I had absolutely no intention of Twitter-following Nine Inch Nails frontman Trent Reznor.

But that was before I saw that he was using a Robotron: 2084 graphic for his @trent_reznor avatar. Since I’m rather fond of that game myself, and like to use the above screenshot image detail as a default glyph for this blog’s Videogames category, that was enough for me to click on the Follow button.

I don’t know how often Reznor switches out his avatar. I suppose as soon as he does, I’ll have an excuse to unfollow him. Wouldn’t be the first time I determined what appears in my Twitter-stream content on the basis of those little pictures.

Disney’s sorority of princess characters has spawned a backlash, as parents and academics question the long-term effects on the target audience:

“It just encourages parents who put their kids on a pedestal - and who encourage their kids a lot and rarely criticize,” says Jean Twenge, an associate professor of psychology at San Diego State who’s done research on the way parenting affects children. “You could label that kind of parenting ‘princess parenting.’”…

Among other things, she and co-author W. Keith Campbell found the rate that college-age women were developing narcissistic traits was four times that of men, when analyzing surveys taken from 2002 through 2007. It should be noted that, overall, men of that age group still are more likely to exhibit narcissistic traits, including the belief that “If I ruled the world, it would be a much better place.”

“But women are catching up, fast,” Twenge says. And she thinks the princess syndrome is a factor, given that this generation of young women was young when some of the newer and most popular Disney princess films were released.

I thought it was pretty obvious that a lifelong princess mentality had gotten ingrained when Disney Bridal came out. Although with a choice between animated princess and soft-core porn starlet, maybe the staying-single option is most appealing of all…

As far as an overload of tykes in tiaras, I don’t see how that fantasy roleplay is any more insidious than other childhood fare. The ditzy types who cling to it past elementary school have deeper issues anyway, and would have glommed onto any other motif to fill the void; a princess fixation only makes it that much more obvious.

Clutch Tees delivered! After I blogged about the Caddyshack “Bushwood Country Club” t-shirt my friend sent me as a birthday present, I promptly emailed the permalink to get a gift certificate for another Clutch shirt. Sure enough, they sent back the $25 voucher, to be applied toward the purchase of another tee.

And I chose the one pictured above, which I’m wearing right now. Frankly, it was the only other one in their collection (aside from the Bushwood one I already have) that I could see wearing without incurring lost-youth embarrassment. The “Give Peas A Chance” tagline is cutesy, but I can live with it, and I liked the simple smiley-faced green sprites. They look good against the light-blue cloth, too (which is much darker in real life than in the photo here). Worth the minor-grade blog shilling.

So the net result is that I got two birthday t-shirts. I guess I could submit this post for yet another gift certificate, but I think I’ll stop at just two.

Just a thought:

If I were Princess Superstar, I’d be mighty pissed about Lady Gaga not only stealing my bad-girl rapper/dancehall queen schtick, but also riding it to big-time mainstream success.