Andrew Keegan has started a new religion. According to Vibe Magazine, the actor (10 Things I Hate About You, 7th Heaven) has created a “new age temple and spiritual movement” dubbed Full Circle. It is named as such due to “Synchronicity [and time],” Keegan says. “That’s what it’s all about. Whatever, the past, some other time. It’s a circle; in the center is now. That’s what it’s about.” We feel like Rust Cohle would totally approve of this religion. In March 2011, Keegan was attacked by a gang – and that’s when everything changed for him. “The significance of this occurrence is that it happened at the same time the tsunami hit Japan ,” explains Keegan, saying it was part of a larger “synchronicity” that led him to debut Full Circle. Ceremonies at Third Eye church will center on water crystals, as members attempt to use these items to focus their energies on solving crises such as the Israel-Gaza conflict. “We create a resonance of balance and equality of the crew,” Keegan tells Vice. “When you feel those chakras aligned, there’s guided messaging coming in. If there is something of spiritual ego within that, it must not exist.” In July 2011, Keegan was manhandled by the police during a house party arrest. But we wish him the best of luck with this religion.
Andrew Keegan has started a new religion. According to Vibe Magazine, the actor (10 Things I Hate About You, 7th Heaven) has created a “new age temple and spiritual movement” dubbed Full Circle. It is named as such due to “Synchronicity [and time],” Keegan says. “That’s what it’s all about. Whatever, the past, some other time. It’s a circle; in the center is now. That’s what it’s about.” We feel like Rust Cohle would totally approve of this religion. In March 2011, Keegan was attacked by a gang – and that’s when everything changed for him. “The significance of this occurrence is that it happened at the same time the tsunami hit Japan ,” explains Keegan, saying it was part of a larger “synchronicity” that led him to debut Full Circle. Ceremonies at Third Eye church will center on water crystals, as members attempt to use these items to focus their energies on solving crises such as the Israel-Gaza conflict. “We create a resonance of balance and equality of the crew,” Keegan tells Vice. “When you feel those chakras aligned, there’s guided messaging coming in. If there is something of spiritual ego within that, it must not exist.” In July 2011, Keegan was manhandled by the police during a house party arrest. But we wish him the best of luck with this religion.
Here is Dani Thorne trying to carve her own place in the world…by posting some of the worst shot bikini pics every to happen on instagram…because I guess the new age of hipster “I Don’t Give A Fuck”…is going to the trouble to upload a picture of yourself for your audience…even though that is technically giving a fuck…and making sure you just don’t pose in it… I don’t know much about the THORNE family, other than that one of them is 16 and apparently, famous, meaning the parents are hippie stage parents who figure, why not monetize kids when you have them, and this is the older one, jealous of the younger one, leading to her doing shit like this….along with other campaigns like THIS ONE and THIS ONE ….not so hot, but leveraging her sister…it works for her… TO SEE HER NASTY GAL CAMPAIGN THAT Isn’t Hot Enough to Post CLICK HERE
Hollywood.TV is your source for all the latest celebrity news, gossip and videos of your favorite stars! bit.ly – Click to Subscribe! Facebook.com – Become a Fan! Twitter.com – Follow Us! Yanni played to a packed house tonight at the Nokia Theater in LA The crowd was treated to a concert of Yanni classics. In his iconic stance, he played two keyboards while standing between them and directing his orchestra of talented musicians. Yanni also took time out to send his thoughts and prayers to the victims and families in Colorado. Hollywood.TV is the global leader in capturing celebrity breaking news as it happens. We cover all the major Hollywood events including The Golden Globes, The Oscars, The Screen Actors Guild Awards, The Grammy’s, The Emmy’s and the American Music Awards, as well as all the red carpet movie premiers in Los Angeles and New York. HTV is on the streets 24/7, at all the industry events and invited by the stars to cover their every move in Hollywood, New York and Miami. Hollywood.TV is currently the third most viewed reporter channel on www.youtube.com YouTube with almost 400 million views, and our footage is seen worldwide! Tune in daily for all the latest Hollywood news on www.hollywood.tv and http like us on Facebook!
The troubles marring the relationship between fast-talking literary agent Jack McCall (Eddie Murphy) and his wife and the mother of his baby Caroline (Kerry Washington) are nothing next to the issues A Thousand Words has in marrying wacky physical comedy and a new age exploration of absentee fathers. The film, which is directed by Norbit ‘s Brian Robbins and written by Bruce Almighty ‘s Steve Koren, is being slung at audiences as a broad family laffer of the Jim Carrey school, but spends just as much time trying to be a serious tale about letting go of childhood resentments and accepting mortality. The “deep” bits aren’t, despite a climactic shot in which Murphy actually frolics with his childhood self through a Terrence Malick-style dreamy field of wheat, and the parts that aim to be funny rarely succeed at that either, telegraphing their punchlines so far in advance that they don’t really need to follow through on them. Murphy’s journey into the lucrative and yet so often awful world of family-friendly comedies is one that’s been taken by plenty of comics, but he wears it worse than most, his edges sanded off and a too calculated look in his eyes as he prepares for the soggy reconciliations with which these stories always end. It doesn’t help that even the pratfalls in A Thousand Words look tired and recycled. McCall climbs a tree to rescue a cat only to have it attack him, making him fall. McCall bluffs his way to the front of a long line at Starbucks by pretending his wife’s in labor. (I realize this is really not the type of film at which to nitpick, but beyond the vaudeville-era mustiness of the gag, why would anyone believe that someone in a wild rush to the hospital would still stop for coffee?) McCall causes multiple car accidents trying to help a blind man cross the street without being able to speak to him. The central conceit in A Thousand Words is that, thanks to a deal he’s made with Dr. Sinja (Cliff Curtis), “the most popular nondenominational religious leader on the planet,” McCall finds that a mystical tree has suddenly grown in the backyard of his swank house of a hill. For every word he says or writes, a leaf falls off, and presumably when they’re all gone both he and the tree will die. (The tree raises some mystical copyediting issues — “dickhead” merits two leaves, but so does “sorta classy.”) McCall obviously has some issues to work through, including the usual ones of working too hard and being emotionally unavailable, factors the film links back to his dad leaving his mom (Ruby Dee) when he was young. Caroline is so upset by his apparent lack of commitment (he refuses to sell his bachelor pad in order to move them into a more child-appropriate house and neighborhood) and unwillingness to communicate (something stepped up by the arrival of the tree) that she leaves him, though not before a laugh-free scene in which she tries to reinvigorate their relationship by wearing vinyl lingerie and breaking out furry handcuffs. That sequence, like most of the other comedic set-pieces, has the feel of something that went from brainstorming board right to the screen, as the film strains its way through every possible scenario that would be awkward when you’re not supposed to talk — ordering coffee, making an international call via an operator, making a deal over the phone, having a business meeting. When the film actually stumbles on a laugh, it seems almost an accident, as when Murphy’s character, high because of pesticides (don’t ask), inserts a breadstick up Allison Janney’s nose. Murphy rolls his eyes and mugs ferociously at the camera — A Thousand Words is the miming showcase the world never asked for — but it’s Hot Tub Time Machine’s Clark Duke, playing McCall’s assistant Aaron Wiseberger, who walks away with the film’s best scene when he’s forced to fill in for his boss at a high-powered dinner during which McCall can’t speak. The only way he knows how to handle a business deal is by channelling his boss, and the entire joke is that he’s a scrawny white kid offering fist bumps and telling someone “Sit your ass down!” But it’s mostly funny because he’s trying to pull off a decent Eddie Murphy. Remember Eddie Murphy? He used to be hilarious. Follow Alison Willmore on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .
‘I’m pretty intuitive,’ actor tells MTV News about why he wanted to work with the pop star on an upcoming basketball-themed drama. By Jocelyn Vena, with reporting by Josh Horowitz Mark Wahlberg Photo: MTV News Mark Wahlberg surprised movie fans everywhere when he announced plans to hook up with Justin Bieber on the big screen. But when MTV News caught up with the “Contraband” star recently, he explained why he wanted to work with the teen phenom on the basketball-themed drama. “Intuition. I’m pretty intuitive,” he said of why he thinks shooting a film with the pop star is the right choice. “I see the guy and spent time with him, and you see what he does and how he does it, and then you actually have a conversation with him, and it’s there.” Of course, if it doesn’t come easily to the rookie actor, Wahlberg has a backup plan: “It’s there — and if not, I will extract it.” When MTV News caught up with Wahlberg and Bieber earlier this year at the MTV Movie Awards, they opened up a bit more about the in-the-works flick. “Wait till you see me and Bieber in the flick. Think of, like, ‘The Color of Money,’ ” Wahlberg said of his “old guy” role. “So I get this call from Paramount [with a story about] an old guy and a young guy. I’m like, ‘Cool, let’s get Jack [Nicholson]. Let’s get Robert De Niro. Let’s get Robert Duvall.’ And they go, ‘What about Garrett Hedlund?’ I’m like, ‘For what?’ ” he further recalled. “They’re like, ‘For the young guy.’ ” Bieber, who previously appeared on the big screen in his 3-D concert flick “Never Say Never,” said he hopes to be on a film set by sometime next summer. And while he kept his plans hush-hush, he added that his team is “working on the script.” For breaking news, celebrity columns, humor and more — updated around the clock — visit MTVMoviesBlog.com . Related Photos Justin Bieber And Mark Wahlberg Team-Up On The Big Screen Related Artists Justin Bieber
Track samples classic Bob Marley and T.I.’s verse on Drake’s ‘Fancy.’ By Rob Markman B.o.B Photo: Getty Images Since B.o.B ‘s early mixtape days, the Atlanta hitmaker drew comparisons to another ATLien. With his out-of-this-world production and rap style, Bobby Ray was at times considered a new age Andre 3000 , and on the axe-wielding Bob’s latest single, “Play the Guitar,” fans finally get to hear the two together. Beginning with a bluesy guitar riff and samples based on Bob Marley’s 1973 classic “I Shot the Sheriff” and T.I.’s verse on Drake’s “Fancy,” the Salaam Remi-produced track finds B.o.B and Three Stacks flexing their rap muscles. The song, which is the next single off of Bobby Ray’s upcoming Strange Clouds LP, was released Tuesday (December 27) on iTunes. The song’s hook is built around scratched-in T.I. vocals. “B.o.B plays the guitar” is brought in and out to set up Bob’s opening verse. “Well it’s B.o.B, flyer than a stewardess/ Fresh to death like I’m dressed for a eulogy,” he raps for starters. The “Nothing on You” MC then continues to showcase his tightly packed rap flow, reminding fans of his lyrical prowess. Rhyming alongside the highly regarded OutKast great had to provide some sort of inspiration for the youngster, and 3000 didn’t disappoint. At the top of his verse, Dre begins spitting about standing atop a Church’s Chicken restaurant playing a guitar, while B.o.B stands on the roof of an adjacent Dunkin’ Donuts. Yes, it is a strange way to set off a rap verse, but it’s fitting for an MC who prides himself on individuality. Andre continues his free-wheeling rhyme, spitting about everything from the advice his grandmother has given him to an Internet rumor that he plays the violin. In the end, Three Stacks leaves something for the next generation of musicians, spitting, “I encourage any child to pick up some instrument.” Just like B.o.B. What do you think of B.o.B and Andre 3000’s “Play the Guitar”? Tell us in the comments! Related Artists B.o.B Andre 3000
Track samples classic Bob Marley and T.I.’s verse on Drake’s ‘Fancy.’ By Rob Markman B.o.B Photo: Getty Images Since B.o.B ‘s early mixtape days, the Atlanta hitmaker drew comparisons to another ATLien. With his out-of-this-world production and rap style, Bobby Ray was at times considered a new age Andre 3000 , and on the axe-wielding Bob’s latest single, “Play the Guitar,” fans finally get to hear the two together. Beginning with a bluesy guitar riff and samples based on Bob Marley’s 1973 classic “I Shot the Sheriff” and T.I.’s verse on Drake’s “Fancy,” the Salaam Remi-produced track finds B.o.B and Three Stacks flexing their rap muscles. The song, which is the next single off of Bobby Ray’s upcoming Strange Clouds LP, was released Tuesday (December 27) on iTunes. The song’s hook is built around scratched-in T.I. vocals. “B.o.B plays the guitar” is brought in and out to set up Bob’s opening verse. “Well it’s B.o.B, flyer than a stewardess/ Fresh to death like I’m dressed for a eulogy,” he raps for starters. The “Nothing on You” MC then continues to showcase his tightly packed rap flow, reminding fans of his lyrical prowess. Rhyming alongside the highly regarded OutKast great had to provide some sort of inspiration for the youngster, and 3000 didn’t disappoint. At the top of his verse, Dre begins spitting about standing atop a Church’s Chicken restaurant playing a guitar, while B.o.B stands on the roof of an adjacent Dunkin’ Donuts. Yes, it is a strange way to set off a rap verse, but it’s fitting for an MC who prides himself on individuality. Andre continues his free-wheeling rhyme, spitting about everything from the advice his grandmother has given him to an Internet rumor that he plays the violin. In the end, Three Stacks leaves something for the next generation of musicians, spitting, “I encourage any child to pick up some instrument.” Just like B.o.B. What do you think of B.o.B and Andre 3000’s “Play the Guitar”? Tell us in the comments! Related Artists B.o.B Andre 3000
Foo Fighters, Bon Iver, the Beastie Boys also make Bigger Than the Sound ‘s midyear list. By James Montgomery Bigger Than The Sound’s Best Albums of 2011 (so far) Photo: MTV News Well, we’ve reached the halfway point of 2011, and if you’re a fan of unfortunately named politicians tweeting photos of their bulges, terrorists getting shot in the eye and Austrian strongmen who have a thing for the help, well, congratulations on having the best six months of your entire life. Of course, for the rest of us, there’s been plenty to help pass the time in 2011 — namely, a whole bunch of really excellent albums, from folks you probably know (Eminem, Lady Gaga) and some you more than likely don’t (the Weeknd, F—ed Up). But whether they’re household names or not, they’ve all helped make the first 180-or-so days of the year practically fly by — a feat that’s pretty amazing considering all the crap that’s happened up to this point. So, like I’ve done in previous years , I’ve compiled my favorite albums of the first half of 2011 — a traditional top 10, followed by some honorable mentions too. If there’s something you haven’t heard, well, you’ve still got six months to rectify that. And the same goes for me: If there’s an album that I’ve missed (a definite possibility), I’d love to hear about it in the comments below. So, let’s get right to it. Here’s my list of the Best Albums of 2011 (So Far): The Top 10 10. Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, Mirror Traffic : The elder statesman of erudite rock and good diction has been heading in a jammier direction for years now (on songs like “1% of One,” “No More Shoes” and, more recently, the Pavement reunion tour ), but thanks to the production work of Beck, he’s finally honed those tendencies into an album that’s every bit as elastic as his previous efforts, yet oddly focused too. Songs like “Tigers” and “Senator” prove he’s still not averse to an angular verse (or in-depth investigations into the sexual proclivities of elected officials), but it’s on “28 Forever” — when he warbles, “There’s no parade/ I cannot rain on with my poison eyes” — where he finally seems to be coming to terms with his past as an oft-noted sourpuss. Call it clarity, call it maturity, call it whatever: It all makes for the best Malk record in years. 9. Foo Fighters, Wasting Light : The year’s best major-label rock record was born out of risk: Dave Grohl eschewed the sanitary confines of the big-bucks studio to record an album in his own garage, on tape, warts-and-all. And then he brought in Nevermind producer Butch Vig to oversee the proceedings. The end result is an effort that positively rips, one equally packed with crackling rockers (“Rope,” “White Limo”) and muscle-y, medium-rare mopers (“I Should Have Known”). In the process, he not only reinvigorated his band, but set the bar impossibly high for any of his contemporaries. As if they’d have the balls to try something like this. 8. The Weeknd, House of Balloons : Mysterious, majestically paced R&B courtesy of 20-year-old Canadian Abel Tesfaye, whose sensibilities (gorgeously layered atmospherics, keenly placed Siouxsie and the Banshees samples) belie his years. The trope of the troubled loverman isn’t exactly new, but rarely are matters of the heart played out as honestly as they are here. A constant cycle of druggy nights, desperate flings and depressing dawns, Balloons makes no apologies, and, really, it doesn’t need to. Not when the scenery is this engrossing, this sumptuous. Mood music for increasingly moody times. And, best of all, it’s free . 7. Beastie Boys, Hot Sauce Committee Part Two : Really, this one could have gone either way. Especially after Ad-Rock’s battle with cancer forced the Beasties to scrap the first record (and, of course, To the Five Boroughs ). But, somewhat shockingly, they delivered an album that’s a total blast, a mishmash of boom-bap rattle and pop-culture flotsam that, like all the best Beastie albums, manages to tread the line between highbrow rap and lowbrow entertainment. So even if Mike D did open up a restaurant with Ted Danson, you still believe he’s got enough swagger to go toe-to-toe with Nas. And on Hot Sauce, he does both. 6. Fleet Foxes, Helplessness Blues : The folks over at Spin called it “the year’s most beautiful album,” and they’re probably right. Swooning, wide-screen vocal harmonies ebb and expand into the warm, finger-picked acoustics, creating atmospheres that are summery one minute, wintery the next. But it’s not all ethereal. In fact, frontman Robin Pecknold spends the majority of the album rooting through problems that are, in fact, very real : finding his place in the world and coming to terms with his disappearing youth. That balance is key to the album’s strength. Because for a band that indulges so much in the space of the studio, Helplessness Blues is rarely, if ever, self-indulgent. 5. Lykke Li, Wounded Rhymes : Psychoanalytic, somnambulant pop from the prodigiously talented 25-year-old Swede, Wounded Rhymes expands on the themes that she laid out in her stunning debut (2008’s Youth Novel ) and imbues them with an otherworldly spirit. Not to mention the torchy leanings of the greatest of girl groups (the Ronettes, the Crystals, etc.). So while Li is still preternaturally somber (like on “Sadness Is a Blessing,” on which she keens, “Sadness is my boyfriend”), she’s also not afraid to get dirty, either, and it’s when she’s doing the latter — like on the aptly titled “Get Some” — that she truly shines. 4. Lady Gaga, Born This Way : It’s not a stretch to call BTW the year’s most-anticipated album, and perhaps in a nod to those expectations, Lady Gaga delivered an effort that doesn’t leave anything on the cutting-room floor. From the piston-pumping electronics of “Marry the Night” and the tarantula tango of “Americano” to the twitching, “Transformers”-huge techno of “Heavy Metal Lover” and the epic balladry of “You and I” and “The Edge of Glory,” this truly is an effort that tries very hard to be everything to everyone. And sure, it’s probably too long, but that’s sort of the point, isn’t it? And if she didn’t please everyone, well, she came pretty darn close, didn’t she? 3. Bon Iver, Bon Iver : Justin Vernon has done the impossible: follow up a beloved, much-mythologized debut album (you know, the one that was recorded in a cabin) with a record that’s just as good — if not better. He’s always been one for atmospheres, but never before have those atmospheres been so dense. Or so compelling. Here, he creates a singular, breathless world, building it with layers of echoing instrumentation and his own ghostly falsetto. There are moments where the sun shines through the cracks — a horn crescendo, a silvery sliver of bell — but for the most part, Bon Iver is a mesmerizing trip through a dewy dreamscape. And, in that regard, it’s a momentous achievement — even if the last song does sound like Bruce Hornsby. 2. Adele, 21 : It’s nice when the year’s best-selling album also ends up being one of the flat-out best, but, in the case of Adele’s 21, we should’ve seen it coming. After all, she’s got the Grammy-winning pedigree . But this time out, she’s grown, and become a singer capable of both tremendous power (like on the smash “Rolling in the Deep”) and terrifying tenderness too (like on the smash ing “Someone Like You”). A roiling collection of breakup ballads and revenge fantasies, there truly is no album quite like 21, and not only is its success justified, but it probably guarantees Adele will only add to her Grammy collection come February. Some things are inevitable. 1. F—ed Up, David Comes to Life : A wrecking-ball sorta rock opera courtesy of Toronto’s hardest-working (and, most likely only ) six-piece punk collective, David Comes to Life tells the story of a downtrodden factory worker who may or may not have killed his true love. I think. Because, along the way, there’s also betrayal, heartache, bomb blasts, fisticuffs and a whole lot of plot-twisting shifts in narration too. Of course, the story behind the album is largely unimportant (if you want to keep score at home, here’s a handy guide ) especially when the album itself hits so hard. The (multi-multi-multi-)tracked guitars squeal and chug for days, and frontman Pink Eyes’ screams are so visceral you can practically feel his blood welling up in your headphones. It’s an ambitious, ringing, raging success, the kind of record you’ll listen to over and over again, either to try and follow the plotline or just get pummeled by the sheer might of the thing. Either way, you’ll enjoy yourself. Honorable Mentions Bad Meets Evil, Hell: The Sequel : Reunited with (and recharged by) Royce, Em reminds us that he’s still capable of littering the scene with lyrical shell casings, and Nickel Nine matches him shot for shot. Their friendly competition makes for a thrilling listen, and basically everything here burns with varying degrees of intensity — even the track with Bruno Mars. Bright Eyes, The People’s Key : Unjustly overlooked for reasons not apparent to me, Conor Oberst’s seventh studio album is a latticework of sonic strips, wide-eyed (yet sorta hazy) ponderances of faith and science and, on “Ladder Song,” raw, positively aching ruminations on death. Not as great as some of his earlier works, but close. And that’s still better than 95 percent of everything else. Curren$y, Covert Coup : One of approximately 750 albums he plans to release this year (and not the one that syncs up with “Weekend at Bernie’s” either), Coup bubbles along on producer the Alchemist’s hazy beats and Curren$y’s laconic, chronic delivery. If you couldn’t tell, this is the weed-iest album of 2011, by a smoky mile. Death Cab for Cutie, Codes and Keys : Ben Gibbard finally gets happy, only, y’know, within reason. Because even the sunniest moments are dotted with dark clouds, and ultimately, this is an album that’s as much about alienation as anything else. After all, falling in love doesn’t fill the emptiness inside; it only makes it more pronounced. PJ Harvey, Let England Shake : The iconic Brit shape-shifts with seemingly every record she releases, and on Shake, she’s reborn as an old-fashioned protest singer. The sad thing is, the subjects she’s singing about (conflict, bloodshed, man’s unending cycle of self-immolation) are just as timely now as they were 50 years ago. Portugal. The Man, In the Mountain, In the Cloud : Guys from the same town that put Sarah Palin on the map (Wasilla, Alaska: Population 7,831) more than atone for that fact with an album that’s sprawling, psychedelic and crawling with ambition — the latter of which is also a pretty apt description for Ms. You-Betcha’s machinations too. Radiohead, The King of Limbs : Maybe the most divisive Radiohead album of all time (or at least since Hail to the Thief ), it may not necessarily rock, but that’s because it’s not supposed to. Instead, its main focus is creating a world that’s atmospheric and amniotic, and even if it doesn’t contain guitar solos like “Lucky” or “Just,” there’s still plenty to give you chills. Just not the chills you’re probably used to. Tyler, the Creator, Goblin : Terrifying meta-commentary or simply the angry rantings of a 20-year-old kid who doesn’t know any better? Probably both. Homophobic? Sexist? Clever? Irritating? How about all of the above. It’s also visceral, wince-inducing, frightening and sorta funny too. But perhaps nobody does a better job of summing it all up than Tyler himself, when, on the (sorta) hook to “Radicals,” he growls, “Kill people, burn sh–, f— school.” Now that’s a mission statement. YACHT, Shangri-La : New-age dance duo ponder the existence of the hereafter and discover that it may very well exist on earth (or within our own minds). Too bad we’re busy destroying both. A postapocalyptic party as foreseen by the Talking Heads and Giorgio Moroder, Shangri-La is as heavy on subject matter as it is on lithe, limber rhythms, so even when things get too heady, you can still let your hips do all the thinking. Yuck, Yuck : The year’s best debut, one that channels the stray slack and sonic stumblings of Dinosaur Jr. and Sonic Youth. And considering it all comes from a quartet of kids too young to remember prime-era indie rock, it’s all the more noteworthy. Maybe the stuff can make a comeback. What did we miss? Share your favorites in the comments!
