In the latest installment of our animated outrage, we conjure the arcane rites of the Grammy Secret Nominating Committee—depicted here as lying somewhere between H.P. Lovecraft and Rube Goldberg—and the eternal braying of Lyor, who arrives to spoil the fun. Any resemblance to committees earthly or celestial is purely coinicidental.
PRE-GRAMMY GALA GOES GAGA FOR GERSON
Jody will be the center of attention at Clive's shindig. (12/18a)
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NOW WHAT?
We have no fucking idea.
COUNTRY'S NEWEST DISRUPTOR
Three chords and some truth you may not be ready for.
AI IS ALREADY EATING YOUR LUNCH
The kids can tell the difference... for now.
WHO'S BUYING THE DRINKS?
That's what we'd like to know.
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