​Today The Observer has a piece on—wait, no, I'm not going to name him, if you want to find out who it is you can just click the link, but suffice it to say that it's another later-generation famous name who fancies himself a potential hip-hop star, like that actor's son who jumped on the "Black And Yellow" beat earlier this year to much giggling from the general population, or the rapping grandson of that rock and roll bard. Would the burgeoning careers of these rappers be worthy of hundreds-of-words profiles if not for the famous names attached? Perhaps; the Observer profilee has a co-sign from the much-blogged about Torontonian Abel "The Weeknd" Tesfaye, who apparently has amassed enough Cobain-like influence over next-big-thing-crazed A&R guys to get his pal signed to Warner. But would Tesfaye know who this young man is if he'd had a father not known for hawking polo shirts and cologne? Oh, the burning questions of our time!

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Twitpick via @youbigdummy

​And thus did Greenwich, Connecticut, become the vortex of bad publicity and ill-advised decisions last night, as LeBron James brought along a good luck charm to an hour-long press conference that turned into an abattoir of innocent basketball fan hopes and dreams. In the audience for LeBron's announcement that he'd be stabbing his hometown fans in the heart and moving on to Miami was none other than Kanye West, who knows a thing or two about making apocalyptically bad decisions in front of millions of people. Perhaps they even discussed strategy, as far as doing everything wrong and hurting as many innocent bystanders as possible. Or perhaps they merely stood next to each other, radiating the blissful calm and assurance that comes with being rich and utterly oblivious. Because that is certainly what was coming through our television last night. Below, Kanye temporarily joins the Boys & Girls Club of America:

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The nakedly turbulent narrative structure of VH1's Behind The Music was invented for Courtney Love. In fact, everything with her is behind the music. So when the hippie spawn who once fronted Faith No More (true story) and auditioned for the Mickey Mouse Club by reading Sylvia Plath (a piece about incest, no less) finally gets her own episode, it's a walloping two hours long. As someone who's spent an alarming amount of time analyzing this woman, I'm both inexplicably knowledgable and somewhat bored when it comes to this person. Yet. Could not. Stop watching.

To wit:

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Hole
Terminal 5
Tuesday, April 27

"Courtney Love is scary," is how the first Village Voice piece about Hole and its "genre-defying," Kim-Gordon-produced triumph Pretty on the Inside began. Published February 1992, this was the month after Nirvana's epochal Nevermind displaced Michael Jackson's pervy-eyed funhouse-romper Dangerous on the Billboard charts, but before Love gave birth to Frances Bean or famously lost her husband. Eighteen years and many public catastrophies later, who would dispute this prophecy? Well, everybody at Terminal 5 last night.

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Despite being stalwart defenders of all things that could possibly be called "joke rap"--from Plastic Little to Das Racist to Donald Glover--we've always found it impossible to enjoy LMFAO, the two twerps responsible for the phrase "I'm in Miami, Bitch" entering the lexicon. Not OK. It's even worse on a T-shirt. But we'd back Satan himself in a cage match with bumbling Republican and presumable 2012 presidential candidate Mitt Romney. And in lieu of a cage match we'd even accept a series of wussy slaps, which seems to be what actually happened on an Los Angeles-bound airplane mid-Monday, according to TMZ:

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​Courtesy of Sean Fennessey. First R. Kelly goes to #4 in the country, and now this. America we are better than what you see in the picture above. [@fennrock]

Somehow the pained, sallow face of Bill O'Reilly kinda makes it all worthwhile. [h/t Rap Radar]

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Tony Brummel, the iTunes/Ne-Yo-despising Victory Records proprietor and bete noir of DIY hardcore since time immemorial, appears to have crossed yet another line. Gerard Cosloy, whose Austin home burned to the ground completely in the early hours of Tuesday morning, took the Matablog today to share an email from someone claiming to be Brummel with the subject line "Good morning..." and, in the body of the message, a reproduction of a satirical Victory logo Cosloy once dreamed up, with the word KARMA appended above it. Brummel may be settling a score: like the vast majority of the independent music community, Cosloy's had his conflicts with Brummel in the past. "What he expressed to me today, however, is another story," writes Cosloy. "I think he deserves to have it widely circulated." No problem. In Cosloy's honor, we figured we'd revisit some of our favorite Tony Victory takedowns from over the years. (There are, you will not be surprised to hear, many.)

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Our recent interview with Janeane Garofalo prompted a whole floating online armada of psychopathic crazies to take the apparently not-common-enough opportunity to unleash their finest "Janeane Godawfulho" jokes and other classy vitriol--evidently, there are a lot of angry people out there with some weirdly specific Google Alerts. This bonkers mob, not content to merely catcall, have now brought the matter to their fearless leader, Rush Limbaugh. Though he couldn't bring himself to remember the name of this publication during his radio show yesterday, Limbaugh was sufficiently moved to offer comment. And, weirdly, to engage in some surprisingly detailed 24 folk history:

Janeane Garofalo also said, some magazine, I don't know where it was. She said that the producers of "24" asked her if she would like to meet me and Lynne Cheney when we made a visit to the set. And she said, "No, I have no desire to meet Rush Limbaugh or Lynne Cheney. I don't want to go up and get my picture taken." There's a problem with that. I haven't been to the set of "24" since she was added to the cast. The last time I've been to the set of "24" was season four, and this is season seven.

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We won't even bother to throw up our hands in outrage at Bill O'Reilly's suggestion that Barack Obama deport Snoop Dogg for the crime of holding a blunt in the general vicinity of the rapper's own Obama-by-Shepard Fairey t-shirt, so as to make it look like the red-white-blue presidential portrait is smoking weed. Instead, we'll merely note that, as with Eminem's crimes against Sarah Palin in a video no one watched more than once because it was so abysmally, irredeemably bad, Bill O'Reilly is the only guy still watching random 40-second clips of rappers doing nothing interesting on the internet. Fabolous is on Twitter, Bill! He spent all of yesterday asking where he could buy weed in Miami! Get with the moment!

Watch: Bill O'Reilly Hopes Obama Deports Snoop Dogg... [Daily Swarm]