Soman's In the [K]now: a pop culture compendium

Some change for the better, some change for the worse, others don't change at all

PLEASE CAREY HER AWAY!

Mariah Carey desperately needs a) clothes b) new songwriters and c) a good five year vacation because lord knows, we're all sick of her. When she burst onto the scene with shrilly bubblegum pop and the trademark range, everyone figured she'd last one year, maybe two. Sure, the songs were catchy (but so were Ace of Base's and look how long they stuck around). But for some reason--even the experts can't explain this one-- she's still making albums. And people buy them! Why??! Every song is the same! Every album is the same! They even have the same titles! "Dreamlover" -- "Heartbreaker," "Fantasy"--"Honey," "Butterfly"--"Rainbow"--"Daydream", etc. The girl is so afraid to go out a limb and try something new that she's even sampling herself--"Heartbreaker," like "Fantasy," borrows liberally from Tom Tom Club's "Genius of Love" (Test: sing "Fantasy's" verses to yourself and then sing "Heartbreaker's" verses. See?) And worst of all--and those of you who read this column last week know just how unforgivable I think this is--she's an awards whore. She's one of those celebrities who shows up at every awards show that's she's nominated for--and even the one's for which she's not nominated (Mariah, if you're not nominated, you can't win). The MTV's, the People's Choice, the Cable Ace Awards, the Tonys, the Teen People's Choice, the Soul Train Awards, the Oscars, the Daytime Emmys--you get the picture. In a recent documentary about her new video for "Heartbreaker," she begged MTV to nominate her for a Video Music Award. Pathetic, Mariah, pathetic. I think Madonna summed it up best on this one: "The same people who set O.J. free are the same people who made Mariah Carey a star."

PACEY AND JOEY? A DAWSON'S DILEMMA

This one's for you, all you teensploitation junkies. Those of you who watch the clock during your late afternoon section on Wednesday, just waiting for the clock to jump to 7:59. Because come 8:00, you and your friends will be piled up in front of the TV watching Dawson, Joey, Jen, Pacey and pals immerse themselves in a vat of teenage angst. Dawson's Creek is addictive television. It's not particularly well-written, the acting isn't great, and the storylines are pretty obvious--but it's just so damn compelling. Last season, things started to drag when the writers, for some reason, found the parents worthy of a full-fledged subplot, but now the 'rents have mysteriously disappeared and the action's heating up. It seems many Dawson's purists are livid about the slow but methodical inertia towards a Pacey-Joey hook-up. "But that will cause turmoil in Capeside's microcosmic universe!" they cry in unison. Pacey, after all, is meant for Andie. And Joey and Dawson, well, will forever be Joey and Dawson (like Brenda and Dylan). But think about this. Why'd you watch the show in the first place? Week after week, James Van Der Dork is obsessive compulsive and downright boring, and Andie, bless her heart, is pummeled each and every week by the writers' new sadistic storyline. But who made the show worth it in the first place? Yes, yes, darling Joey and smarmy Pacey. Can you even think of a better couple? (I hear they dated in real life. Scandal!) And the others? Put Dawson and Andie together-- they're both filled with enough angst to last several spinoffs. Hook Jack up with the football player he keeps eyeballing. And Jen? Ahhhh Jen. Here's my solution: Dawson's dad is on the market, isn't he?

BULWORTH, PART DEUX

Any other year, Warren Beatty running for president would be marginally relevant news. People would laugh, brush it aside, and reinitiate their criticism of Pat Buchanan. But Warren, clever little devil that he is, waited until this year to throw his hat into the ring. Next year's presidential race looked like it was going to be the most thuddingly boring event in United States electoral history since--well, the last presidential election. Poor Al Gore nor George W. Bush. They're both qualified, but that doesn't seem to matter much anymore; they don't have nearly enough scandal in their lives to cause national uproar. But Warren! He's slept with more women than Ron Jeremy and pissed off more people than Jesse Ventura. Sure, he's probably another Reagan--a glamorous personality, absolutely no idea how to be president--but at least people will vote, right? Now the Reform Party just named Oprah Winfrey as a potential candidate and Oprah quickly distanced herself from the whole mess. But can you imagine that? Oprah vs. Warren? Man vs. Woman? Spirituality vs. Sexuality? Elegance vs. Shadiness? But we can only wish...

SOMAN'S SHORTS

The boy bands are getting greedy. Earlier last week, the Backstreet Boys initiated a legal tussle with Jive Entertainment, the same group that nurtured N'Sync. But now, N'Sync's former management is slapping them with a lawsuit. The stakes? If N'Sync loses, they'll lose the rights to the songs that now comprise their yet-unreleased second album. And to who will the rights revert back? Maybe...The Backstreet Boys. Can you imagine the BSB releasing N'Sync's second album as their third album? Entirely possible...We've just secured an interview with controversial director Kevin Smith. Look for that in an upcoming issue...After Helena Bonham Carter and Brad Pitt have an acrobatic sex session in Fight Club, Carter's character breathes a heavy sigh of relief and says, "That's the best f--- I've had since grade school." Now word has leaked out that the original line that was eventually cut was: "I want you to get my pregnant. I want to have your abortion." Oh, how I love witty dialogue... Michael Jackson just got another divorce. How sad. But then again, he never even lived with this wife. They lived in different cities, never saw each other, and Michael pretty much had full custody. And rumor has it that he's obsessed with the air his children breathe--literally. He has his servants check it for germs regularly and any toys which the children touch are promptly disposed of...And finally, as I was walking down Mt. Auburn Street yesterday, I saw a plastic bag floating in the wind. It spun in the air, inflated and deflated, and crashed and burned several times. I didn't find it all that profound.

Questions, comments? E-mail schainan@fas.