Happy Thanksgiving everyone! As you take a break from turkey, football, and/or family, take a gander at the latest edition of my bi-weekly advice column, Sounds Like a Plan. 

Gobble gobble gobble!

Have you head Pink’s new single, “Sober?” It’s great. My love affair with “So What” ended pretty quickly–despite my initial crush, it sounds like noise to me now–but “Sober” has gone in the opposite direction. It didn’t make an impression at first, but now I can’t get it out of my head.

The video, however, made an impression right away:

You know how actors talk about “tasteful nudity?” I’d say this video has the world’s first case of “tasteful fucking yourself.”   The Pink-on-Pink sex could be played for pure titillation, but instead, it’s beautiful. 

Why? Well, for one thing, the video is gorgeously directed by Jonas Akerlund, who creates several psychological worlds for Pink to exist in. One realm belongs to Thoughtful Pink, who wishes she could like herself when she wasn’t drunk, and another belongs to Dirty Pink, who masks her self-loathing with booze and parties. A third world belongs to… um… “Photo Negative Pink,” who wears white, sits in a white room, and has white hair. To me, Photo Negative Pink suggests the part of her that’s caught between the other two—the unformed version of herself that can’t exist until Thoughtful and Dirty make amends.  

And I’d argue that the Pink-on-Pink sex scenes show us that reconciliation. That’s why their sex is so intimate, full of tender lip-nibbles and eye contact. Two pieces of the same person are finally learning to connect.

So… since it’s beautifully shot and makes a thoughtful statement, the Pink-on-Pink sex is tasteful. To me, at least. What do you think? Are there other things about the video that rock (or don’t rock) your world? 

Thanksgiving is a time of bounty, and we should be thankful for the cornucopia of great new songs that is currently spilling onto the plastic tablecloth of our hearts.

If you’re looking for five hot jams to liven up your holiday, then crank these hits!

(1) “Heartless” by Kanye West — You guys? I love “Love Lockdown,” but I looove “Heartless.” The insistence of the beat; the simple, pounding rhythm of Kanye’s rap-singing; the guys yelling “Hey!” after every line… it’s all so urgent and dark and exciting. And once again, I’m struck by Kanye’s vulnerability. He may swagger at awards shows, but his music lays down raw feeling. That’s so much more engaging than a generic rap about clubbing.

(2) “Mr. Hurricane” by Beast — Once again, the free iTunes download has done me right. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know about this Canadian band, and that would be sad. I mean, how cool is that gospel choir in the chorus? How sick is the drum loop? This song is perfect for walking down a crowded city street. You hear it, and you feel like an instant ass kicker.

(3) “Cold Shoulder” by Adele

Adele’s from the Duffy/Winehouse/Estelle school of young British woman who sound like throwbacks to the beehive hairdo. Her music is so stylishly cool that it might as well be polished chrome, and “Cold Shoulder” proves why that’s awesome. Because it sounds like it doesn’t have a hair out of place, the song treats heartbreak with cold curiosity, as though the narrator is more fascinated by her pain than controlled by it. That’s some sexy self-possession! 

(4) “Blame Me! Blame Me!” by Anberlin — Clearly, I’m in the mood for high energy music right now, because I love this song’s frantic pace. And like all the songs on Anberlin’s fantastic new album, this one lays guitar and drum noise over a strong melody. You can rock out, but you can also enjoy the pretty hook and lovely singing. Even better, the lyrics are genuinely perceptive, exploring how some couples would rather keep fighting about nothing than discuss what’s actually scaring them. For a pop song, that’s pretty deep. 

(5) “Good With You” by L.P.

Do you know why I love this song? Because of the gut-ripping wail L.P. unleashes at :34, like she’s not even trying. Because of the quavering note she sings immediately afterward, on the words “but you.” Because of the stadium-burning chorus, which has so many vocals, guitars, and violins that it’s like a fist in my face. But most of all, I love this song because L.P.’s voice doesn’t sound so great at 2:54. That shit ain’t pitch corrected, y’all, and it’s awesome. She needs to sound messed up because she wants her girlfriend like crazy. That’s a messy way to feel, and a rock song that respects that is a rock song for me.

After the jump, I’ll share some quick thoughts on recent episodes of Ugly Betty, The Amazing Race, and True Blood.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

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According to Metacritic, Danny Boyle’s new film Slumdog Millionaire has received universal critical acclaim. Based on those reviews–and my general admiration for Boyle’s freaky magic realism–I headed to Slumdog this afternoon.

And because I saw the movie near Lincoln Center, I was in a sold-out theater, which is one of the reasons I love New York. Where else could an indie film about a destitute Indian kid pack the rafters?

Of course, it’s not just Lincoln Center geeks who are being primised a good time. Critics are calling the movie a crowd-pleasing, romantic delight. In the New York Post, Lou Lumenick even insists that little kids should see it because “few movies ever have provided better and more entertaining lessons about the joys of learning.”

But I’m not sure anyone needs the Slumdog Millionaire curriculum.

I’ll break down what I learned… after the jump.

Warning: I’m going to discuss the entire plot.

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Many thanks to Holly Cara Price for naming The Critical Condition her blog of the week!

If you don’t know it, Holly’s blog Snoop Du Jour is fantastic. It features a weekly column called Horoscoop, in which she suggests activities for people based on their astrological signs. This week, my fellow Sagittarians and I are advised to celebrate the 40th anniversary of The White Album, while Virgos are encouraged to read The Critical Condition.

I think the Horoscoop is a brilliant concept, and it seems bound to produce a bestselling book. But don’t wait for the publishing world. Check it out now!

Thanks to Pamie for posting this video earlier.

Do you think there were people who reacted this way when Sarah Palin lost?

Did you know that for many women, the cargo room in a Chevy Traverse is as delightfully surprising as a downpour of shoes? I didn’t either, but then I saw this commercial:

If you’re a regular reader, you might expect me to be annoyed by the gender stereotyping of women going crazy for shoes. And I would be, except that’s been my experience. I can name half a dozen female friends who lose their minds over shoe shopping, and that doesn’t include my imaginary friendship with Carrie Bradshaw.

Mostly, I like this commercial’s confidence. The announcer’s relaxed voice and the dreamy folk song in the background create a relaxed tone, as though it’s obvious the car’s trunk space is tantamount to luxury items falling from the sky. The ad implies there’s no need to shout about it or slap us in the face: If we simply hear the facts, we’re bound to agree the Traverse is a miracle. That attitude keeps Chevy from seeming desperate, which makes me likelier to pay attention.

TV drama keeps disappointing me. Dirty Sexy Money is crappy this year, and the nation agrees that Heroes is flailing like a beetle on its back. 

And now another great series has gone down in flames. Brothers and Sisters has become subpar.

The main problem is that while the characters used to be complex, they’ve now been reduced to soap opera cliches. For instance, when did Holly Harper become an evil bitch? She was always shifty, but in the first two seasons, she had real feelings to soften her edges. Now, even her tender moments with Rebecca are staged like underhanded plots.

Conversely, Justin could occasionally be fractious, but now he’s a narcissistic wimp who is so wounded by everything around him that Dave Annable resorts to the same wide-eyed expression in every scene. 

It’s like that for all the characters, including Sally Field’s Nora. That scrapes the bone because I loved Nora. Now she’s such a nosy flibbertigibbet that I confuse her with Mrs. Poole. 

The plots stretch credibility, too. I mean, is there anything more annoying than Ryan Lafferty? To review: Rebecca isn’t really a Walker, but there’s another Walker bastard who’s name just happens to start with an R, thus validating Sarah’s guess about the last letter in her dead dad’s bank password. How convenient.

God. Reading that, it sounds like a recap of The Bold and the Beautiful. That’s infuriating because Brothers and Sisters didn’t need loopy plotlines or over-the-top characters to be great. The first season especially found drama in relatable situations. The language was heightened and the Walkers were wealthier than most, but their problems were grounded in everyday life. Siblings squabbled, aging parents felt insecure, and people struggled to tell the truth. The episodes were engrossing because they weren’t like soap operas at all.

But that’s over now. Series creator Jon Robin Baitz was notoriously ousted from the series, and it’s failing without him. I’m sure the writer’s strike has something to do with it, too, but do the remaining show runners really believe the Walkers are better when they’re doused in suds?

Sigh. I hope Big Love and Lost are exceptional this season. If not, I guess I’ll finally have time to watch Mad Men and Breaking Bad. 

Last Sunday, I wrote in The New York Times about The Builders Association, a technologically savvy theater company that does fascinating work. Their new show Continuous City tries to immerse us in the physical sensation of social networking–they don’t simply show characters using the internet, but instead stage the emotional experience of being connected to people online.

After watching videos of the piece, I’m excited to see it live on Thursday.

photo by Eamon Lochte-Phelps