There was a time when a movie star didn’t simply appear on screen — they descended from the heavens. Their faces glowed from billboards fifty feet tall, their names alone could open a film, and their private lives were guarded with the same vigilance as national secrets. Garbo. Gable. Crawford. Grant. These weren’t just people; they were celestial bodies orbiting above the ordinary world.

HOLLYWOOD - Every few months, American pop culture wakes up and decides to take the Kardashian family’s temperature. Are they still relevant? Do people still care? It’s become a national pastime nearly as old as their original E! series. But lately, the question feels sharper—perhaps because the answers are finally starting to shift.

HOLLYWOOD / WASHINGTON DC - Somewhere between Washington, D.C. and Hollywood Boulevard, someone in power decided the humble penny had outlived its usefulness. Just like that — poof! — gone. Copper history. National pocket lint no more. And while the country debates whether rounding up or down is patriotic or preposterous, Hollywood — that grand old dream factory of glitter and delusion — quietly shudders.

LONDON - Darlings, don’t be fooled by crowns or klieg lights — the British monarchy and Hollywood’s golden age were always in the same business: selling dreams wrapped in satin. One reigned from palaces, the other from studios, but both built empires on illusion and the fragile scaffolding of public adoration. One gilded in gold leaf, the other in celluloid sheen— but both run on the same machinery: image, illusion, and impeccable timing.

HOLLYWOOD - Long before hashtags or Twitter trials, Hollywood had already mastered the art of reputation management. In the 1930s, studio “morality clauses” ruled the industry with the icy precision of a censor’s pen. Actors who drank too loudly, loved too freely, or simply refused to live by the studio’s image could find their contracts torn overnight. The town that sold fantasy demanded moral perfection from its performers — and defined “perfection” in terms as flexible as the studio’s balance sheet.

WEST LOS ANGELES - In late October, a new call to action began rippling through online forums, social-feeds and talk-radio waves. It was initiated by Harvey Levin—the veteran television producer, legal analyst and founder of TMZ. The movement goes by the bold name OWTA, acronym for “Out With Their Assess.” And its mission: vote every member of the U.S. Congress out of office, regardless of party, ideology or whether you like your own representative or not.