If I could do a case study on some of the alarming hypocrisy that characterizes media today, I would centre it on supermodel-turned-media mogul Tyra Banks. She truly embodies the modern rule of television: anyone willing to forego dignity, self-awareness, and all ironic detachments can potentially earn about $30 million a year.

That being said, I have nonetheless derived a perverse pleasure from skipping class and watching Tyra’s latest antics on The Tyra Banks Show. Whether she’s criticizing the media or campaigning for short women as top models, the ironies of this woman’s actions never cease to captivate me. I was therefore quite dismayed when I learned that the show will soon be leaving the air forever. In its memory and honour, I’d like to recount some of my favourite – and by that I mean completely appalling – Tyra moments.

Tyra is, first and foremost, very confused when it comes to questions of body image. She has simultaneously made her career as a supermodel – a job constructed around distorted notions of feminine physical ideals – and as a spokesperson for “everyday” women struggling with their self-esteem. In one memorable episode, Tyra goes undercover as a 350-pound woman in order to discover whether people will treat her differently. Turns out they do. And what does she do to remedy this blaring injustice? She takes off the fat suit (to reveal how hot she thankfully is), and then speaks to actual obese women to discuss how being fat “made them feel.”

In another instance, Tyra appears onstage in the bathing suit that caused a stir in tabloids because it revealed her significant weight gain, telling critics that they could “kiss my fat ass.” The irony: she then explains how the photos were doctored, as she didn’t actually look that fat in the bathing suit. Later in the month, Tyra appeared on the cover of a magazine looking fabulous as usual next to the headline “You call this fat?”

While it’s very altruistic of Tyra to use her own weight gain as a means of addressing the problems with society’s unrealistic standards, her involvement in the modeling industry as well as her zealous fixation on displaying her own perfect body as a statement of “fat” advocacy exposes a women who appears to have issues about what it means to have real body issues.

Perhaps the Tyra crusade that strikes closest to home is the one where she decides to make a “petite edition” of the hit show America’s Next Top Model. The idea behind this revolutionary movement is that she could singularly change the face of the modeling industry by giving short girls a chance. Speaking as a “petite” woman, I feel neither a sense of camaraderie nor comfort from this ploy. Frankly, I like standing in the front of the chorus, I was always great at limbo, and I enjoy not worrying about finding a guy who is taller than me. I really don’t need Tyra to help assure me that I can still be regarded as womanly despite my lacking of Amazonian dimensions.

In yet another investigative exposé, Tyra goes undercover as a homeless woman. We watch the supermodel ironically get her makeup done to look ugly, have ratty shoes placed on her feet, and have camera crews follow her as she uncovers “what it’s like to be homeless.” After discovering crack pipes along skid row and washing herself in a gas station bathroom with the cheap soap she could only afford after panhandling, Tyra breaks down and cries to cheesy background music. The slogan for this episode? “Being homeless can happen to you.” But with her own production company and a status as executive producer of three different shows, I doubt it can happen to her.

As usual, I was left dumbfounded by the level of condescension and imbecility involved in playing dress-up for a day and believing that she now had the right to claim solidarity with a plight that could not be further from her own.

The end of The Tyra Banks Show by no means implies the end of the Tyra empire. Tyra will continue to believe that she is a crusader of social justice. My only question is: who will become America’s next top narcissistic-attention-monger?

Brahna Siegelberg is a Features Editor for the McGill Tribune.

Getting your band heard when you’re first starting out is rarely an easy feat, even in a musical city like Montreal. Getting your band heard by your peers at McGill can be even harder, which is why Radio CKUT is launching Thursdays (A)Live, a free showcase of McGill bands playing every third Thursday of the month at Gert’s.

“Montreal can be a bit of a closed community for musicians, and if you’re coming to a new city as a student it can take a while to know where the good places to play are and what radio stations to send your demos to,” says Erin Weisgerber, Radio CKUT’s funding and outreach coordinator.

The monthly event is aimed at giving young bands the practice and publicity they need to thrive, as well as a way to bring CKUT’s underground music to campus. Although Gert’s has previously showcased McGill talent, Weisgerber says that Thursdays (A)Live are going to be a bigger and better way for bands to be heard.

“I think we’re doing a lot better job of publicizing it [than previous student band nights]. We want it to be a bigger event, especially because we want it to continue regularly. We’re using all the resources of radio and print media. We’re recording all of the nights we’re showcasing and playing them on the radio, getting them out to the Montreal community,” Weisberger says.

CKUT plans to not only organize the night at Gert’s, but also to interview each band on the air and to play their demos with hopes of bringing lots of attention to these student musicians. Yet some McGill musicians believe that the real challenge isn’t so much breaking into the Montreal scene, but is instead catching the ears of other McGill students. Phil M., of the band Intensive Care, will be playing the inaugural Thursdays (A)Live this Thursday. In his experience, it’s getting heard on campus that has proven most difficult.

“At McGill, the only thing we’ve done is OAP. We actually tried getting in touch with CKUT many times, but always with no response,” Phil says. “When we realized we actually wanted to pursue this as an actual project, we started promoting ourselves in the local [Montreal] scene and got to know other bands, promoters, venues and all these things. So now I think we’ve basically infiltrated the scene in many ways. It’s much easier to get shows.”

Intensive Care recently released their first full-length album, Fairytales From The Island, produced by Jace Laske of The Besnard Lakes. Yet shows on campus are few and far between. OAP and, in the past, SnowAP are the big campus draws, yet as Phil explains, “It’s not really the kind of event where people sit and listen. It’s always a little awkward, but we keep applying just because we love McGill and it’s always fun to play there.”

Which is why Thursdays (A)Live is full of potential, both for musicians and for students wishing to hear their peers in action. On Thursday, three bands will be playing: Intensive Care, The Pop Winds, and The Kelp Center, with CKUT DJs keeping the music going between sets. So far only the first lineup has been chosen, but Weisgerber says that the station has already received 14 other demos to choose from.

“We’d like more [demos] in,” Weisgerber says. “A lot of what we’re getting is rock and folk, which is awesome, but we’d love to reach out to bands playing hip-hop and jazz and experimental, because we’d love to see a broader reach of music.” Bands can send their demos to Radio CKUT for consideration, where they’re chosen based on overall quality and musicianship, how well they would fit with other bands in the lineup, and their adherence to CKUT’s indie, underground theme.

If the nights are a success, Weisgerber says that CKUT would be very interested in increasing the event to more than just once a month. And with two-dollar drink specials and fresh new music, it’s worth taking a listen.

The first Thursdays (A)Live is Thursday, January 21 at Gert’s, in the basement of the Shatner Building.

I don’t know what I’m more annoyed with: the fact that Bono’s recent op-ed column was even considered for publication in the New York Times; the fact that in said column, Bono advocates for a new age of paternalistic Internet service providers; or the fact that U2 hasn’t released a decent album since 1991. Maybe all of the above.

Bono’s January 2 guest column, titled “Ten For the Next Ten,” had all the makings of a piece that, written by someone with any other name, would be simply unpublishable. A list of 10 things we should look forward to in the future (and not even 10 “top” things), the column begins in an annoyingly self-deprecating style, while being disjointed and dated at best – no one should still be talking about what you did backstage at a concert in the 90s, not even Bono. The article only goes downhill from there, straying far from enjoyable journalism, into the realm of an obnoxious, unresearched babble.

Not to mention his use of ellipses … which borders on … the really annoying.

Nevertheless, as a rock star, Bono has access to things that we mere mortals can only dream of, and inane columns are one of those things (see also his thoughts on Frank Sinatra, published last January in the New York Times).

The problem is this: writing a song is not like writing an op-ed. I can more than understand the Times publishing the piece as an attempt to attract new readers, but I feel that somebody else would probably do a much better job of presenting a compelling argument for subscription than would a disjointed top 10 list that is not funny, insightful, or useful.

Unfortunately, all of the above is evident in just the introduction. Once you get to Bono’s actual insights, what was before only annoying suddenly becomes truly disturbing with a tirade about Internet service providers that can only be called paternalistic.

“We’re the post office, they tell us; who knows what’s in the brown-paper packages? But we know from America’s noble effort to stop child pornography, not to mention China’s ignoble effort to suppress online dissent, that it’s perfectly possible to track content,” he writes.

Possible? Yes. A good idea? Certainly not.

Bono himself, of course, creates the type of content that is being so ferociously stolen by those who service providers are failing to monitor, and as a result, it’s perfectly acceptable for him to feel a little pissed off. Despite stressing that big rock stars like himself are not the victims compared to those musicians just starting out, he might have some residual hard feelings – the man is, after all, trying to build the 30-storey “U2 Tower,” so he’s probably feeling a little tight on cash at the moment.

But that’s still no excuse for paternalism.

Arguing that it’s a good idea to emulate China and monitor what users download is concerning at best – not least because it limits freedoms in a way that can only be called disturbing.

Bono argues, “The only thing protecting the movie and TV industries from the fate that has befallen music and indeed the newspaper business is the size of the files.” I would argue that another thing both music and newspapers now have in common is Bono’s involvement. It seems that TV will be next, with Bono as the next Dr. House, saving the world from cancer in ways recommended to him by “my bandmate The Edge.”

But the biggest problem with Bono’s op-ed is that U2’s last decent album was Achtung Baby, and when it came out, I was still listening to Fred Penner. And what have they done since then – released a signed iPod? Failed to get Bono some better sunglasses? Written music for “Spiderman: The Musical”? (Actually, that last one might be worth looking into.) All of which require no musical talent whatsoever.

The institution of the celebrity op-ed, such as it is, deserves to come to an end. Bono on Frank Sinatra? Annoying, not to mention exceedingly poorly written, but nevertheless understandable: a musician talking about music. Bono making snarky, more than questionable predictions about technology in the decade ahead? Unnecessary.

There is an understandable allure to publishing a guest column by a rock star, and attracting new newspaper readers is an admirable goal. I only wish that journalism, instead of narcissism – if there’s still a difference – was the way to do that.

There is a reason that U2 is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: they’ve made some good, influential music. But not all skills are transferable, and the ability to count improperly in Spanish is not necessarily an asset when composing something for the New York Times.