Previously on the Golden Globes all this happened! Also: Mo'Nique's leg-stubble happened. With so much happening, it's still a testament to the crumbling institution of journalism that few reporters were intrepid enough to single out the night's most charming couple--novelist Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer. This site even made the embarrassing gaffe of listing Gaiman as an anonymous +1.

If you spent most of 2008 trapped under some driftwood, you probably never came across the bit of music genius that was Who Killed Amanda Palmer, the first solo offering from Amanda Palmer. The vocal half of the Dresden Dolls has since been touring extensively since in support for the record. She made a little time before a gig at Webster Hall last year to chat to BlackBook. But since then, she's gotten busier, brushing up on her Tchaikovsky, praising Lady Gaga in a tune set to the melody of a Neutral Milk Hotel song, sparking fashion trends that even influence stars like Ke$ha. And tonight, Palmer helps usher in the end of the aughts with help from the Boston Pops.

Sometimes as certain trends in fashion -- ones that baffle those outside the industry as well as within -- are worth putting the spectacle of worldwide hot-messery on hold for a moment. If only to speculate on the origins of said trend. And while TriKap walk-of-shamers and Britney Spears have invariably found themselves sans pants at some point or other, neither really made an intentional habit of upending stylistic decorum as we know it. Even in 2007, The Gossip siren Beth Ditto pulled a similar fashion coup; but the earliest adopter for the look appeared to be none other than Brechtian punk cabaret queen Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls.

Since Paula Abdul's principled exit from American Idol, producers have been trotting out a lunch buffet of guest judges whose claims to either the "American" or "Idol" parts of American Idol are dubious at best. Apart from Mary J. Blige (who is probably as close to an American idol as the show's revolving door of judges will ever get), some of these judges seem a little shaky, like Victoria Beckham and Broadway favorites Neil Patrick Harris and Kristin Chenoweth. But because we forgive their un-Idolicious standing because they're awesome. And the others, well ... they're frankly just not as awesome. Like the previously announced Joe Jonas, who is probably the least qualified for this gig. This means that even though their claims to fame are as rooted in novelty as Beckham's, there's little reason for them to be dispensing advice to aspiring pop stars when they themselves have become dusty casualties of the music industry -- and all who have become significantly eclipsed by past Idol winners like Kelly Clarkson and Jordin Sparks.

● Jeff Buckley fans will not only be horrified to learn that there is a biopic in the works, but that Jared Leto, James Franco, and Robert Pattinson are all in the running to play the late singer. [Exclaim] ● Peaches Geldof, 20-year-old divorcee and party girl, says she’s a better role model than Disney mascot Miley Cyrus. [TheSun] ● Megan Fox is all for the legalization of marijuana and doesn’t appreciate that people think she’s a “crazy hippie” for smoking a doobie once in awhile. [KansasCity]

Is no one safe from the censors? You may know Amanda Palmer for her colorful outbursts or that one time she played a Radiohead cover on the uke or simply as the louder half of the Dresden Dolls. But lately, it seems she's in the unenviable position of having to defend her latest single, "Oasis," to British music outlets like NME and MTV. It's not that they don't like it -- on the contrary, they adore it. The song just doesn't fit their stringent standards. Although, in a pop climate permeated by the subtle poetics of bitches and hos, there's really nothing incredibly NSFW about the single, which manages to poke fun at everything from date rape to loony fundies -- all in just over two minutes. See the video after the jump.

Amanda Palmer fakes her own death and hopes to partner with Jesus

Brazilian Girls, New York City (Verve Forecast). As the title of their art-groovy third album suggests, Brazilian Girls make music for urban spaces: airports, nightclubs, deserted streets. The trio -- only one of whom is female, and Italian -- are residents of New York City but citizens of the world. There are songs here in four languages, about “St. Petersburg,” “Berlin” and a plethora of cities name-checked in “Internacional.” Riff genius, immaculate drummer and fashion diva: The Girls resemble Blondie more and more every year. And that’s a good thing. -- Evelyn McDonnell