Once upon a time, we used to be a civilized nation--and our barometer for success was Lindsay Lohan's rising star. And then, the broken institution that is Child Protective Services failed to wrench Lohan away from her parasitic parents. So the Parent Trap starlet crashed, burned and became a one-woman personification of American decline. Which then puts us here: Lohan reportedly getting smacked around by ex Samantha Ronson. And according to an insider's confession, this Whitney Houston-Bobby Brown dynamic has become routine for the pair.

Last night, all of the country was abuzz with a manly display of brute force that involves (1) tossing a ball around; (2) catching said ball; and (3) jumping on top of whichever man is in possession of the ball. Yeah, I don't get why it wasn't sponsored by a gay matrimonial website, either. Seems like simple synergy, no? Alas, this is your CBS Corp.-owned America! Still, last night's event managed its fair share of its gay moments. Much to the chagrin of Tim Tebow, no doubt.

Poor NBC, all beleaguered, going all Coco-nuts and standing to become even less relevant than the CW after 30 Rock and The Office end their runs. Blame it on their decision to keep Will & Grace going for eight goddam years (I do!). And yet, the network, in spite of all its bad karma, has still found some time to celebrate culture! Why look, it's Black History Month. So in the staff cafeteria, they're offering tasty treats like collard greens, fried chicken, and 20 oz. bottles of Aquafina! Racialicious!

So you have pop stars attempting to salvage Haiti and then you have other more noble pop stars--like Kelly Clarkson--taking it upon themselves to repair the crimes against pop perpetrated by the Grammys. Crimes like that one time Taylor Swift decided to pick up a guitar, yowl out lyrics and make Stevie Nicks cower in the background. It would surprise no one if Nicks thought then, "I definitely should've opened up Stevie Nicks' Fajita Round-Up instead." Meanwhile, Swift's handlers sucked at handling her general lack of not-annoyingness at the telecast. This leaves Clarkson--definitely a survivor of record industry bullshit--to step up and do what Swift's people can't: Defend their client.

Previously: Hollywood had some major trust issues with female celebrities. Now, Vanity Fair's Peter Newcomb culls together a list that exposes another disturbing (albeit not surprising) disparity within Hollywood: Fair wage. In his list of Hollywood's top 40 earners, not a woman ranks on the Top 10, and only two rank among the Top 20. And those anomalies? Emma Watson and Cameron Diaz. Oh, America: This is your Hollywood?

Well, James Cameron thinks so at least. Sure most of us would agree that if honors were being handed out for Avatar's acting, then obviously Michelle Rodriguez's five-line cameo deserves to be the front-runner. But Cameron's likely pleading his case with thesp Zoe Saldana in mind, arguing that despite being made up, Photoshopped, and CGI'ed, Saldana's ability to remind all of us that inside our organs, there lies something squishier--feelings!--should've earned her a Best Supporting Actress nomination.

Stop whatever it is you're doing and read on. Even if you're rebuilding the presidential palace in Port-au-Prince, drop those effing bricks and read on. Those prodigal sons of last year's X Factor, Irish twins Jedward have issued their debut single: A mash-up of Queen's "Under Pressure" and Vanilla Ice's "Ice Ice Baby." You may be rolling your eyes. But stop your strabismus! Because even Vanilla Ice appears on the single (and the accompanying video.) The results are kitschy, disastrous, but also proof that in this age of Ke$ha-delivered pop messes, there is still Hope. And Hope appears well-coiffed and has a sense of fun. That Simon Cowell wants to bring this sort of television spectacle Stateside? Genius. And while this is currently burning up in Britain, somewhere in between successes by Gaga and the Black Eyed Peas, Jedward could very realistically snag a Top 5 hit in the U.S. with this tune as well. Video after the break.

So I just glanced down at my nonexistent wristwatch and y'all know what time it is? Time to put to bed unsavory rumors that find one of the world's worst pop singers will escort an Oscar nominee down the red carpet. So here you go: Adam Lambert will not be Up in the Air's Anna Kendrick plus-one to the Oscars next month. I know it's cute to think, "LOL! What if a boy who likes other boys goes with a -- gasp! -- lady to a public function where all the town will be a-flutter?" And to be fair, it wouldn't exactly be the first time, because everyone in Hollywood may be gay anyway, their ladies playing the role of well-dressed beard. And with this role priming her to slide up into the A-list, it only seems sensible that Kendrick, to the utter despair of some gay men, should elect one to be her pinkest, glitteriest accessory. After all, it's a piece of well-iced bling that helps one tart stand out from the next at the Oscars.

Have you heard? Lost--that Samuel Beckett-esque exercise in absurdity--is back for a sixth season. You'll feel many emotions when the premiere finally happens tonight. Disappointment. Apathy. Wanderlust. But most importantly, you will want to partake in any number of useful Lost drinking games. Because nothing will make sense and there are even rumors that Ben Linus, that nasty piece of work, may emerge as the series' unlikely hero. But that's all they are: Rumors. So to ease your anxiety by enjoying any/all of these simple Lost drinking games.

Every year the Oscars try their damnedest to tap the pulse of American moviegoers and every year they cock it up. Some years ago, Crash won Best Picture and we head-desked until the only thing left on our necks was bloody pulp. Renée Zellweger won one of those gold statuettes for talking in a southern drawl in Cold Mountain and we asked the universe what we had done to have such mediocrity rewarded. Sometimes the Oscars do nice things do, too. Like tossing a win to David Lynch's Mulholland Drive for Best Director or giving a nod to Babel's Rinko Kikuchi. If the Grammys' fault lies in trying too hard to appeal to Joe Plumber, the Oscars' fault may lie in trying too hard to appeal to Joe Plumber's gender-queer niece who's hopping beds around Vassar. So it's a cause for celebration that this morning, when the 2010 Oscar nominees were announced, more than snubs, there were some real gems on the list. Nine of the very best, after the break