Author: Genna Rivieccio
Genna Rivieccio writes for myriad blogs, mainly this one, The Burning Bush, Missing A Dick, The Airship and Meditations on Misery.
Reggae-Infused, Clean Bandit’s “Playboy Style” Featuring Charli XCX and Bhad Bhabie Would Make Alright, Still-Era Lily Allen Proud
It’s not always advisable for anyone with a blanco skin tone to attempt to dabble in reggae (Sublime and 311 come to mind). And yet, [Read More…]
You Can’t Fuck Up a “Dating Scene” That’s Already Decimated: The Amazon by Way of Long Island City Bro Infiltration
“The dating scene,” a term that is almost as unreal in tangible existence as “the matrix,” takes on a particularly cartoonish in its laughability bent [Read More…]
Capitulate to Your Class: The Kim Kardashian Private Firefighter Backlash & What It Says About Poor People Jealousy
For whatever bizarre and pointless reason, those who are, shall we say, poor (which, in the current year signifies not being a millionaire) still relish [Read More…]
The Complex Internal Disunion of Being a Misandrist That Enjoys the Artistic Output of Men
Madonna, the only pop star with superlative taste consistently written off as having none, was quick to pay homage to both her combined Italian heritage [Read More…]
Grazie a Papà: No Bernardo Without Attilio
When one is born to a renowned Italian poet and writer (said writing also branching into the realm of film criticism) like Attilio Bertolucci, it’s only [Read More…]
Nepotism Equals Schism: The Favourite
“If you look like a badger, I’m going to tell you that you look like a badger because that’s what love is.” If that’s really [Read More…]
To Be Honest, the Offensive D&G China Ads Feel Like A Sofia Coppola and/or Wes Anderson Movie
There might have been a chance for Dolce and Gabbana, already on such thin ice with their back to back controversies–some including comments on IVF, [Read More…]
“I Finally Found a Way to Make Money That Doesn’t Involve Shoveling Shit”: Can You Ever Forgive Me?
The screenwriter writing a biopic is perhaps as instrumental to better understanding a subject as the biographer. Or, in certain cases, autobiographer. That said, Nicole [Read More…]
Maybe Van Gogh Was Crazy, Maybe Arles Was Hella Boring: At Eternity’s Gate
There is a certain romantic notion to fleeing from society. It is one that artists (of the more literal variety, mind you–none of this graphic [Read More…]
Mercury Poisoning: Bohemian Rhapsody Infers the Insidiousness of Freddie’s Personal Life on the Band
“You know how you’ve gone really rotten? Fruit flies. When they start feasting upon you. Well, don’t worry, there soon won’t be anything left to [Read More…]
