Cameron drifted into the wrong lane, then came to the wrong border post—and just like that the Connecticut-plated BMW was under suspicion as a drug runner. We were asked to await a drive-through X-raying, then wedged between a body-rotted pickup truck and a minivan whose rear panel was being sniffed by a rangy German shepherd.
“These guys,” said Cameron, drawing our detainers into his messaging, “are making their decision based on not how we look. On the facts. And the fact is we could very well be struggling”—this slip was the only fracture in an immaculate façade of control and confidence, and he swallowed it like a spit [...]
Rebecca Black wakes somewhat too perfectly in the early scenes of her viral video, "Friday." Her eyes open exactly as the clock beside her bed flashes seven. She wears full make-up. Rare for a teen, she isn’t tired, longs not for any receding dreams.
Her cultural debt is less to Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles than Evie Vicki the robot girl from Small Wonder, we realize, as in a voice controlled by Auto-Tune she enumerates the banalities of an anti-existence: “Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs, gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal… gotta get down to the bus stop.”
She offers the camera a hostage's smile, forced, [...]