– Put on that leather cuff, rock some Death Cab for Cutie, and slap the shit out of a jock: The first season of seminal teen drama The OC is streaming online for free. (The WB)

– Really weird and hilariously charming menus were handed out at a Brooklyn food celebration this past weekend. (Fucked in Park Slope)

– It’s a bad day to work at HP… (Mashable)

– In Soviet Russia, invincibility attains you! (Oddity Central)

– This is Spinal Tape (Copernicus)

– Oxford University to examine supposed Yeti DNA. (Phys Org)

After Pastor Charles Worley’s recent sermon calling for gays and lesbians to be put in concentration camps until they all die, surely even the most devout of his congregation must have had a moment of reckoning, a revelation that the trumped-up battle between LGBTs and Christians has officially gotten out of hand, a realization that this is how Holocausts get started and that any good Christian should by definition lean toward an anti-Holocaust position. Right?

Turns out no.

“He had every right to say what he said about putting them in a pen and giving them food…The Bible says they are worthy of death. He is preaching God’s word.”

You can read more and watch a video here, if you’re into that kind of thing. Myself, I call dibs on being the one to tell them that their entire religion is built around their boy Jesus getting executed for expressing himself in an unpopular way. Let’s get a camera crew and do this.

78 years ago on May 23 popular bank robbers Bonnie & Clyde met their doom in Louisiana, mere months before John Dillinger suffered a similar fate outside the Chicago Biograph Theater.

We might describe them as the first and greatest post-modern criminals. Bonnie Parker detested the provincial life of Texas and loved motion pictures, while Clyde Barrow was said to have been fixated on vengeance against the Texas penal system that turned him into a hardened criminal. By post-modern, it should be taken to mean that, like the literature of the first half of the 20th, Bonnie & Clyde’s motivations were far more complex than simply stealing money. Their nearest analogue, in a sense, might then be François Villon, a legendary poet and thief whom the great writer Blaise Cendrars called the “source” of modern poetry.

The media fascination with Bonnie & Clyde was accelerated by a rolls of undeveloped film and poetry left behind after they fled their Joplin, Missouri hideout. In the photos, the duo posed with various weapons. Bonnie Parker’s poetry even has a film noir atmosphere to it that is cinematic in flavor. (Check out Parker’s poem “The Story of Suicide Sal” and “The Trail’s End” below.) The romance and poetry of the union was hard to ignore. And in the years since it has inspired many books, films and music.

One might say that a good portion of Jean-Luc Godard’s cinematic oeuvre was inspired by the misadventures of Bonnie & Clyde. Films like “Le Petite Soldat,” “Breathless” and most creatively, the surreal “Pierrot le Fou.” Godard even famously turned down an opportunity to direct a Bonnie & Clyde film starring Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway, which eventually fell upon Arthur Penn’s shoulders.

Another Gallic artist, Serge Gainsbourg, was also infatuated with the myth of Bonnie & Clyde, constructing a theme around the criminal lovers for his collaborative album with Brigitte Bardot entitled “Bonnie & Clyde.” Merle Haggard tapped into the lovers’ myth as well for his LP “The Legend of Bonnie & Clyde.”

And although they were violent killers, to those interested in the pair’s criminal spree they are the ultimate rebels and their story — a modern and even post-modern narrative — will continue to be re-imagined in various media.

The Trail’s End

You’ve read the story of Jesse James
of how he lived and died.
If you’re still in need;
of something to read,
here’s the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang
I’m sure you all have read.
how they rob and steal;
and those who squeal,
are usually found dying or dead.

There’s lots of untruths to these write-ups;
they’re not as ruthless as that.
their nature is raw;
they hate all the law,
the stool pigeons, spotters and rats.

They call them cold-blooded killers
they say they are heartless and mean.
But I say this with pride
that I once knew Clyde,
when he was honest and upright and clean.

But the law fooled around;
kept taking him down,
and locking him up in a cell.
Till he said to me;
“I’ll never be free,
so I’ll meet a few of them in hell”

The road was so dimly lighted
there were no highway signs to guide.
But they made up their minds;
if all roads were blind,
they wouldn’t give up till they died.

The road gets dimmer and dimmer
sometimes you can hardly see.
But it’s fight man to man
and do all you can,
for they know they can never be free.

From heart-break some people have suffered
from weariness some people have died.
But take it all in all;
our troubles are small,
till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.

If a policeman is killed in Dallas
and they have no clue or guide.
If they can’t find a fiend,
they just wipe their slate clean
and hang it on Bonnie and Clyde.

There’s two crimes committed in America
not accredited to the Barrow mob.
They had no hand;
in the kidnap demand,
nor the Kansas City Depot job.

A newsboy once said to his buddy;
“I wish old Clyde would get jumped.
In these awfull hard times;
we’d make a few dimes,
if five or six cops would get bumped”

The police haven’t got the report yet
but Clyde called me up today.
He said,”Don’t start any fights;
we aren’t working nights,
we’re joining the NRA.”

From Irving to West Dallas viaduct
is known as the Great Divide.
Where the women are kin;
and the men are men,
and they won’t “stool” on Bonnie and Clyde.

If they try to act like citizens
and rent them a nice little flat.
About the third night;
they’re invited to fight,
by a sub-gun’s rat-tat-tat.

They don’t think they’re too smart or desperate
they know that the law always wins.
They’ve been shot at before;
but they do not ignore,
that death is the wages of sin.

Some day they’ll go down together
they’ll bury them side by side.
To few it’ll be grief,
to the law a relief
but it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.

Suicide Sal

We each of us have a good “alibi”
For being down here in the “joint”
But few of them really are justified
If you get right down to the point.

You’ve heard of a woman’s glory
Being spent on a “downright cur”
Still you can’t always judge the story
As true, being told by her.

As long as I’ve stayed on this “island”
And heard “confidence tales” from each “gal”
Only one seemed interesting and truthful-
The story of “Suicide Sal”.

Now “Sal” was a gal of rare beauty,
Though her features were coarse and tough;
She never once faltered from duty
To play on the “up and up”.

“Sal” told me this tale on the evening
Before she was turned out “free”
And I’ll do my best to relate it
Just as she told it to me:

I was born on a ranch in Wyoming;
Not treated like Helen of Troy,
I was taught that “rods were rulers”
And “ranked” as a greasy cowboy.

Then I left my old home for the city
To play in its mad dizzy whirl,
Not knowing how little of pity
It holds for a country girl.

There I fell for “the line” of a “henchman”
A “professional killer” from “Chi”
I couldn’t help loving him madly,
For him even I would die.

One year we were desperately happy
Our “ill gotten gains” we spent free,
I was taught the ways of the “underworld”
Jack was just like a “god” to me.

I got on the “F.B.A.” payroll
To get the “inside lay” of the “job”
The bank was “turning big money”!
It looked like a “cinch for the mob”.

Eighty grand without even a “rumble”-
Jack was last with the “loot” in the door,
When the “teller” dead-aimed a revolver
From where they forced him to lie on the floor.

I knew I had only a moment-
He would surely get Jack as he ran,
So I “staged” a “big fade out” beside him
And knocked the forty-five out of his hand.

They “rapped me down big” at the station,
And informed me that I’d get the blame
For the “dramatic stunt” pulled on the “teller”
Looked to them, too much like a “game”.

The “police” called it a “frame-up”
Said it was an “inside job”
But I steadily denied any knowledge
Or dealings with “underworld mobs”.

The “gang” hired a couple of lawyers,
The best “fixers” in any mans town,
But it takes more than lawyers and money
When Uncle Sam starts “shaking you down”.

I was charged as a “scion of gangland”
And tried for my wages of sin,
The “dirty dozen” found me guilty-
From five to fifty years in the pen.

I took the “rap” like good people,
And never one “squawk” did I make
Jack “dropped himself” on the promise
That we make a “sensational break”.

Well, to shorten a sad lengthy story,
Five years have gone over my head
Without even so much as a letter-
At first I thought he was dead.

But not long ago I discovered;
From a gal in the joint named Lyle,
That Jack and his “moll” had “got over”
And were living in true “gangster style”.

If he had returned to me sometime,
Though he hadn’t a cent to give
I’d forget all the hell that he’s caused me,
And love him as long as I lived.

But there’s no chance of his ever coming,
For he and his moll have no fears
But that I will die in this prison,
Or “flatten” this fifty years.

Tommorow I’ll be on the “outside”
And I’ll “drop myself” on it today,
I’ll “bump ‘em if they give me the “hotsquat”
On this island out here in the bay…

The iron doors swung wide next morning
For a gruesome woman of waste,
Who at last had a chance to “fix it”
Murder showed in her cynical face.

Not long ago I read in the paper
That a gal on the East Side got “hot”
And when the smoke finally retreated,
Two of gangdom were found “on the spot”.

It related the colorful story
Of a “jilted gangster gal”
Two days later, a “sub-gun” ended
The story of “Suicide Sal”.

Hey guys, did you hear about this Catholic religion? It’s changing lives, man. Just straight up changing them. According to their video they care about family, life, and morals. I do, too! Who doesn’t?

Well, apparently President Obama doesn’t. Boo! According to Catholic logic, Obama is against all three because he supports a woman’s right to choose, he supports the right for women to have birth control, and also supports gays! I know. I know. Don’t stop reading in disgust. Keep pushing onwards, Catholic soldier.

So there you are: a Catholic. And there Obama is: a terrible person. How can you stop such a terrible person for having these bizarre, alien ideas that oppose yours? Certainly the only logical answer to these problems is that the giant, magical, all-knowing all-seeing man in the sky doesn’t approve of gays (despite never having mentioned it in the Bible other than in Leviticus which also says that having sex while a woman is on a period is punishable by death), birth control (despite 98% of Catholic women using some form of birth control), or abortion (the giant invisible man does not approve of this one ESPECIALLY!)

Thankfully, our good Catholic – because fuck Presbyterians, am I right? – friends over at Catholics Called To Witness have produced this wonderful video detailing that you can beat this scary black person President Obama just by voting against him.

It might have the same production value of a PF Changs commercial but its message is clear: vote your fear faith. Anyone who votes for the black guy Obama might as well be Satan because they don’t think like you and I, pious reader. They are the ones who (probably) practice sodomy with aborted babies on top of a pile of Plan-B medication.

Quick tangent: how come everyone ‘practices’ sodomy? Isn’t anyone professional at it yet?

Anyway: CC2W would rather listen to Pope Benedict who was, we should add, part of the Hitler youth, so we should probably trust his opinion over anyone who doesn’t get their message from an invisible man who lives in a cloud and knows what you’re thinking.

Today, Brooklyn native Theophilus London just met Kid Cudi for the first time, and is apparently sitting next to Jay-Z in Cannes, according to his flurry of recent Tweets. London is in attendance to see Kanye West debut his art film “Cruel Summer,” but still had time to release a track from his upcoming mixtape “Rose Island.”

The 808 bass and dreamy synth are perfect for an 80s club straight out of “Scarface,” though London stays true to his lyrical ability in the verses to complement his catchy hook singing.

I still like to picture Al Pacino in the Babylon Club, dancing with Michelle Pfeiffer more awkwardly than my drunk uncle at a wedding.

[via Hypebeast]

Our friends at BuzzFeed dug up an oft-forgotten gem of a product from the guys at Ben & Jerry’s that gives peace of mind to the most selfish of ice cream-eaters.

In a press release from 2002, the ice cream magnates write, “The Euphori-Lock is a tenacious two-part plastic security ring that slips around your pint’s upper lid for “udder” peace of mind. And not to worry – it comes complete with an easy-to-remember secret code when you’re ready to unlock your favorite treat!”

Designed to “promote family harmony,” the locks were intended to be sold online and at local Scoop Shops way back in 2002, but weren’t available for purchase until later. Now you can pick one up for less than $7 on their website. They’re probably intended to be more of a joke than a sweet tooth security item, but the funniest part about BuzzFeed’s discovery are the plethora of solutions people have come up with to circumvent the Euphori-Lock.

You could steal the lock, cut through the pint with a knife, drain the melted ice cream through a hole in the bottom to a separate container and then refreeze — Honestly, if you’re that desperate for some B&J, just ask me for $5 and I’ll buy you a pint. Just keep your hands off of mine.

I was a BlackBerry user for three years. Three long painful years. Well, really, two decent years and one horrible nightmare year of disappointment and misery.

BlackBerry also almost put me in a commercial, but I didn’t know how to use BBM so they chose some family in the Midwest instead. All in all, my non-Apple experience was a big pile of terrible. When I got an iPhone I thought those days were behind me. Enter Siri.

Everyone I know, except for a few luddites and my mom, have iPhones, so on the night of purchasing I couldn’t wait to stick it to their years of ridicule with my 4S that has Siri, unlike their iPhone 4’s.

I clutched my phone saying, “Watch this,” and asked Siri for the weather forecast. She did nothing. I asked her to call me a cab. Nothing. Set a reminder. Nothing. Tell me the time. Nothing. Do anything at all. Nada. After two minutes of begging, I finally said, “Can you fucking do anything?” She replied one single response: “Be nice. Now.” She then ignored me for the rest of the evening.

Even my BlackBerry, which turned off at horribly inopportune times, and froze every time I touched a key, and drained the battery after one text message, never audibly embarrassed me or commanded me to do something. This was my first full frontal Siri assault—but it wouldn’t be my last.

IBM recently banned employees from using Siri, according to the Digital Spy, citing a clause in Apple’s iPhone Software License Agreement that says, “When you use Siri or Dictation, the things you say will be recorded and sent to Apple in order to convert what you say into text.”

Essentially, Siri is a sneaky spy who was never on our side. She’s been collecting data and personal records and sending them off to the iPhone’s data center in Maiden, North Carolina, where God only knows what happens to them.

When Google recently got in trouble for violating user privacy, a lot of people responded by saying they didn’t care what Google knew about them, that it probably made their Internet experience easier and more personal. I felt much this way myself. Google can spy on me. Facebook can spy on me. But Siri I will not allow because Siri is judgmental.

A friend recently programed my Siri to call me “Princess” as a joke. And while I’m fairly certain her little robot voice is incapable of this, I swear Siri addresses me as Princess with incredible amounts of snark.

Siri also never correctly hears what I’m saying, and replies loudly with embarrassing things I didn’t ask such as, “Princess, I do not know what, ‘Can you video tape my dad naked,’ means.”

Siri also lies to me about the weather. For instance, yesterday I wore rain boots in dry 75 degree weather and today I wore flats and no jacket as it rained on me during my lunch break. I think someone in Maiden, North Carolina is laughing about this. Asshole.

When I ask Siri to do complicated things, she simply doesn’t. She’s not helpful and she lies and spies and judges and I support IBM in their decision.

New York, leading 21 other states and the District of Columbia, is asking the Supreme Court — which ruled in favor of Citizens United — to let stand Montana’s state-level restrictions on campaign expenditures, according to the Associated Press.

While it seems rather unlikely that the Supreme Court would reverse its decision in Citizen United, which opened the floodgate for unlimited, anonymous corporate campaign donations (bribes, in other words), should not the conservative majority stand firm to their belief in states’ rights? No, such political philosophy goes right out the window in matters partisan.

“The federal law struck down in Citizens United applied only to elections for President and US Congress,” wrote New York attorney-general Eric Schneiderman on behalf of coalition of states. “By contrast, Montana’s law applies to a wide range of state and local offices, including judgeships and law enforcement positions such as sheriff and county prosecutor.”

Rather good point here by Schneiderman. He and the other states’ attorney generals are asking that the Supreme Court reconsider the notion that excessive campaign expenditures do not cause corruption. The argument seems obvious, but since money can buy speech in the form of TV and Internet ads, the issue isn’t so black and white. More money renders certain voices louder, like a man standing before a crowd with a megaphone; but, many scholars, observers and average Americans would argue that the government should not involve itself in how individuals and groups spend their money.

For them, the corruption is just fine. Deep down they know, however, that money buys influence and that our government is far more likely to listen to the Koch Brothers or Exxon Mobil than the average citizen.

Any music fiend loves to discover new artists from around the world, but sometimes you get the unique joy of discovering a local act with the potential to make it big. I stumbled upon hip-hop instrumentalist Ian Jones, a.k.a. ChromadaData, after his latest release entitled “FreshKickz,” and it wasn’t long before I found out he’s from St. Augustine, Florida, a quick 30 minute drive south from yours truly.

“FreshKickz” is all the hip-hop with none of the lyrics. A jazz trio of bass, drums and piano rides over a steady vinyl “hiss” that blends your grandpa’s records with a Golden Age flavor; a silky track for a summer afternoon. ChromadaData sounds fresh from 1994 on a few tracks from his “MeenMuggin’” EP; so much so that I would bet at least five MCs of hip-hop legend would put money down for Jones’s instrumental lending. At least more than the cool $4.20 he charges for his 9-track self-titled EP.

Both EPs are more than worth the minimal price, as are “Moog,” “HeadPhoneMuzik” and “Krayt Diggz,” especially for any aspiring lyricists that might put their own words over his sounds. From a fellow Floridian, I can only hope ChromadaData’s talent is recognized by some big names soon enough.

Like what you’re hearing? ChromadaData posts new releases on his Facebook, Twitter and SoundCloud accounts.

Sarah Burge is in the Guinness Book of Records as having the most cosmetic surgery, which is like being in the Guinness Book of Records for being the world’s most terrible person. The origin of her fascination with looking perfect happened after a boyfriend attacked her; so, understandably, the subject is relatively touchy and she’s more or less been allowed to get away with having well over 100 operations done on her.

Then she got in a lot of trouble for buying her 7-year-old daughter pole dancing lessons and around $50,000 in cosmetic surgery vouchers (which she can use when she’s 18), which is – you know – a totally helpful thing to do for a 7-year-old’s self esteem — to have her mother tell her that she’s not naturally pretty and that she should really study up on her pole dancing. It’s just sad. And pathetic.

So Sarah Burge went on Anderson Cooper yesterday and got kicked off the show by Anderson for being a terrible person, The Daily What reports.

I know. So perfect. Quoth the Coop’:

I honestly have nothing more to talk to you about… I gotta be honest, I gotta just stop. I’m sorry. I try to be really polite to all my guests, but I just think you’re dreadful and I honestly don’t want to talk to you anymore.

Take a look for yourself. What do you think? Was Anderson right?