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In a delightful twist of superhero-sized irony, rising star Isabela Merced just learned that even Superman’s iconic “S” comes with its own secret identity protocols. The actress, recently cast as Hawkgirl in James Gunn’s hotly anticipated Superman reboot, accidentally sparked what could’ve been 2025’s first major superhero scandal — though “Logo-gate” might be pushing it a bit far.

Picture this: There’s Merced, fresh off landing one of the most coveted roles in Hollywood, sitting down for what should’ve been a routine table read. Like any excited newcomer to the superhero pantheon (and let’s be honest, who wouldn’t be?), she spotted her name next to “Hawkgirl” and did what any digital native would do — straight to the Instagram Stories it went.

What followed could’ve been a scene straight out of a sitcom. Four frantic phone calls interrupted what was supposed to be Merced’s movie night, as studio executives scrambled to contain what turned out to be an accidental reveal of the new Superman logo. “I was drawing that [S] since middle school,” Merced later admitted to Entertainment Weekly, perfectly capturing that surreal moment when childhood doodles collide with multi-million dollar franchise secrets.

The logo stayed online for roughly an hour — a lifetime in social media years — before being yanked down faster than a speeding bullet. Surprisingly, Warner Bros. took the whole thing in stride. Perhaps they recognized what fans have known for years: genuine enthusiasm beats carefully orchestrated PR any day of the week.

Speaking of enthusiasm, Merced’s take on the physical demands of superhero work offers a refreshingly honest peek behind the cape, so to speak. After a less-than-stellar experience with “Madame Web’s” super-suit struggles, she’s found unexpected camaraderie in Superman’s Cleveland-based production. There’s something wonderfully human about the image of spandex-clad superheroes taking turns fanning each other between takes in the summer heat.

“Every scene I’m flying, pretty much,” Merced shared, with the kind of excitement that suggests she’s found her sweet spot in the superhero genre. For an admitted adrenaline junkie who “likes being dropped from really high heights,” Hawkgirl’s aerial acrobatics seem like a perfect fit.

The film’s impressive ensemble — including Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, and Nathan Fillion — suggests DC Studios isn’t just rebooting Superman; they’re building an entire world around him. Merced’s Hawkgirl joins Fillion’s Guy Gardner and Edi Gathegi’s Mister Terrific in what’s shaping up to be a fresh take on the DC universe under Gunn’s creative vision.

Come July 11th, Superman will soar into theaters with his logo properly unveiled this time — though somehow, Merced’s accidental reveal feels like exactly the kind of charming mishap that makes these massive productions feel a little more down to earth. After all, in an era where every superhero detail is locked down tighter than Fort Knox, there’s something refreshingly real about an actor getting so excited about their role that they temporarily forget about studio secrets.

Sometimes the best marketing isn’t marketing at all — it’s just genuine enthusiasm breaking free from the carefully controlled confines of modern blockbuster filmmaking. And really, isn’t that what Superman’s all about?

Six years is a lifetime in the music industry. Yet somehow, Justin Vernon’s return with Bon Iver feels right on time. SABLE, fABLE landed in early 2025 like a letter from an old friend — one who’s been through the darkness and emerged, somewhat surprisingly, into the light.

This isn’t just another indie folk record. It’s a double-sided confession that plays out like a therapy session set to music.

The album’s first act — SABLE — plunges straight into familiar Vernon territory. Three tracks of brooding introspection that could’ve been recorded in that famous Wisconsin cabin (though they weren’t). “I would like the feeling gone, ’cause I don’t like the way it’s looking,” he murmurs in that distinctive baritone, and longtime fans might settle in for another beautiful bummer of a record.

But then something unexpected happens.

The album’s second act — fABLE — explodes into technicolor. It’s as if Vernon kicked down the cabin door and walked straight into sunshine. Nine tracks of… dare we say it… joy? From a guy whose brand was practically built on beautiful misery?

Take “Everything Is Peaceful Love” — a country-soul hybrid that sounds like it could’ve been pulled from some alternate-universe version of 1985 where Vernon fronted Tears for Fears. “Damn, if I’m not climbing up a tree right now,” he sings, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

The production values are predictably stellar. Vernon’s evolution from solitary songwriter to master collaborator is on full display here. R&B innovator Dijon adds subtle texture to several tracks. Guitar wizard Jenn Wasner weaves golden threads throughout the album’s tapestry. Even Jacob Collier shows up to sprinkle some of his harmonic fairy dust across the proceedings.

But perhaps the most poetic contribution comes from Danielle Haim, who — in a twist of fate that seems almost too perfect — ended up recording her parts during an unexpected snowstorm that trapped her at Vernon’s Wisconsin studio. Some things just come full circle.

What’s truly revolutionary about SABLE, fABLE isn’t its sound (though that’s remarkable enough). It’s Vernon’s newfound emotional directness. Gone are the layers of vocoder, the cryptic wordplay, the sonic obscurity that marked earlier releases. In their place? Raw honesty that hits harder than any amount of studio wizardry ever could.

The album’s structure tells its own story. From the depths of that trademark baritone to soaring falsetto celebrations, it charts a course from despair to… something else. Something brighter. “I’m a sable/And honey, us the fable,” Vernon declares on “Awards Season,” bridging the gap between the record’s dual personalities.

In an age where authenticity often feels like just another marketing strategy, SABLE, fABLE stands as something rare: a genuine transformation captured in real-time. It’s the sound of an artist finally ready to step out of his own shadow — and maybe even dance a little in the sunlight.

Who knew that Justin Vernon’s most radical act would be allowing himself to be happy?

Broadway’s latest meta-theatrical venture has finally arrived—and it’s quite the head-spinner. After languishing in development hell for 13 years, “Smash” has transformed from small-screen cult favorite into a full-blown stage production that’s equal parts tribute and reinvention.

The show’s opening at the Imperial Theatre marks a curious milestone in Broadway history. Here’s a television series about making a Broadway show that’s become… well, a Broadway show about making a Broadway show. (If that sounds confusing, don’t worry—it sort of is.)

Under Susan Stroman’s direction (she’s got five Tony Awards, in case anyone’s counting), this 2025 adaptation strips away the TV show’s soapier elements. Gone are the romantic subplots and backstage drama that characterized the NBC series. What remains is laser-focused on the creation of “Bombshell”—a musical chronicling Marilyn Monroe’s tumultuous life and career.

Tony nominee Robyn Hurder steps into the spotlight as Ivy, delivering a performance that’s simultaneously mesmerizing and unsettling. Her Method-driven descent into Monroe’s psyche becomes the production’s gravitational center, though whether that’s a good thing depends entirely on whom you ask.

The creative team—Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman handling music, Bob Martin and Rick Elice tackling the book—walks a precarious tightrope between nostalgia and innovation. Sure, beloved songs from the TV series make appearances, but they’re woven through with fresh material that’s sparked heated debates among theater critics. Robert Hofler of The Wrap wasn’t exactly subtle when questioning whether a show could survive “stopping” quite so many times before, y’know, actually stopping.

Perhaps the production’s most controversial aspect is its surprisingly cynical take on Monroe herself. Rather than the usual tragic-goddess treatment, we’re presented with what Deadline’s Greg Evans describes as “an inconsiderate, amphetamine guzzling faux-intellectual.” It’s a bold choice that’s left audiences either applauding the fresh perspective or clutching their pearls in horror.

Thank heavens for Brooks Ashmanskas, whose portrayal of the perpetually frazzled director Nigel provides much-needed comic relief. His deadpan delivery of lines like “If I ever see you giving books to an actor again, I will replace you. With an app” lands perfectly in today’s AI-obsessed theater landscape.

The technical elements shine—Beowulf Boritt’s scenic design and Ken Billington’s lighting create a world that’s simultaneously realistic and theatrical. The stellar ensemble, including standouts Krysta Rodriguez, John Behlmann, and the incomparable Kristine Nielsen, keeps the energy crackling through the show’s two-and-a-half-hour runtime.

Yet there’s something oddly appropriate about the mixed reactions this show’s receiving. Time Out New York’s Adam Feldman hits the nail on the head: the production seems to embrace its own messiness, wearing its imperfections like a badge of honor. For die-hard fans of the original series, this meta-awareness might just be the perfect tribute.

Look, “Smash” isn’t perfect—but maybe that’s exactly the point. In an era where Broadway increasingly relies on jukebox musicals and movie adaptations, here’s a show that dares to examine the messy, complicated, often absurd process of creating theater itself. It’s neither triumph nor trainwreck, but something far more interesting: a mirror reflecting both the dazzling allure and chaotic reality of show business.

And really, what could be more Broadway than that?

Talk about a power move in the streaming world. Netflix’s “The Lincoln Lawyer” just landed quite the catch, snagging Sasha Alexander for its upcoming season. And honestly? The timing couldn’t be more perfect.

Alexander’s stepping into the shoes of FBI Agent Dawn Ruth — a role that practically screams “don’t mess with me.” Word is she’ll be crashing Mickey Haller’s dinner with some rather pointed questions about an FBI investigation. Classic federal agent move, right? But with Alexander’s proven track record of bringing depth to complex characters, this promises to be more than your typical procedural power play.

The numbers don’t lie — “The Lincoln Lawyer” has been absolutely crushing it. The show’s third season pulled in a whopping 7 million views in just four days, the kind of success that’s becoming increasingly rare in 2025’s fractured streaming landscape. Manuel Garcia-Rulfo continues to own the role of Mickey Haller, bringing that perfect blend of charm and legal prowess that keeps viewers coming back for more.

Let’s talk about Alexander’s journey for a moment. From her memorable run as Caitlin Todd on “NCIS” to bringing nuance to Helene Runyon in “Shameless,” she’s proven herself time and again. Throw in appearances in “Mission: Impossible III” and “He’s Just Not That Into You,” and you’ve got an actress who knows her way around both high-stakes drama and nuanced character work.

The fourth season — based on “The Law of Innocence” according to co-showrunner Dailyn Rodriguez — looks set to push the envelope even further. David E. Kelley’s adaptation of Michael Connelly’s books has consistently delivered the kind of sophisticated legal drama that makes you forget about your Sunday night blues.

Speaking of ensemble magic, the existing cast is nothing short of electric. Neve Campbell, Becki Newton, Jazz Raycole, Angus Sampson, and Yaya DaCosta have created something special here. Alexander’s addition feels less like a casting choice and more like finding the missing piece to an already impressive puzzle.

What’s particularly fascinating about this development is how it reflects the evolving nature of streaming content in 2025. While some shows are struggling to maintain momentum past their second season, “The Lincoln Lawyer” keeps finding ways to up the ante. Alexander’s dual expertise — remember, she’s directed episodes of “Bull” and Netflix’s “You” — brings an extra layer of industry savvy to the production.

Netflix is playing coy about the release date (shocking, right?), but the groundwork being laid suggests we’re in for something special. Between the federal angle Alexander’s character brings and the show’s proven track record for compelling legal drama, season four might just be the one that pushes “The Lincoln Lawyer” into must-watch territory.

After all, in an era where streaming services are tightening their belts and canceling shows left and right, this kind of thoughtful casting and story development feels like a breath of fresh air. Who knew legal drama could still feel this fresh in 2025?

Salem’s about to get a whole lot spicier. AMC Networks just dropped the most delectable news of the season — “Mayfair Witches” is conjuring up a third chapter, and darlings, they’re trading those moss-draped New Orleans oaks for Salem’s wickedly historic streets. Talk about a bewitching plot twist.

The announcement landed just as the dust settled on season two’s March 2 finale, and honey, it’s serving more than just a change of zip code. In what can only be described as television’s equivalent of mixing Dom Pérignon with absinthe, AMC’s tapped Emmy-winner Thomas Schnauz (you know, the genius behind “Breaking Bad”) to partner with Esta Spalding as co-showrunner.

Dan McDermott, entertainment president at AMC Networks, practically floated when discussing the news. The Mayfair family drama, he noted, continues to cast an irresistible spell over audiences. Salem’s rich witchcraft history? Well, that’s just the cherry on top of this particularly enchanted sundae for their expanding Anne Rice Immortal Universe.

Let’s be real — this Salem shift isn’t just about pretty colonial architecture and cobblestone streets. It’s a bold creative gambit that’s going to weave centuries-old witch trial lore into the Mayfair family’s already complicated tapestry. Spalding’s promising a “contemporary twist” on the Salem narrative that’ll be their “most delicious yet.” When a showrunner drops words like “delicious,” you know we’re not talking about basic cable soup.

Schnauz seems equally bewitched by the whole affair. Fresh off his Emmy nomination for “Better Call Saul’s” “Plan and Execution” episode, he’s already diving deep into season 3’s creative cauldron with Spalding. Their collaborative energy? Absolutely electric.

The series — anchored by the luminous Alexandra Daddario and featuring standout performances from Harry Hamlin, Tongayi Chirisa, and Alyssa Jirrels — has become the crown jewel in AMC’s supernatural empire. With “Interview with the Vampire” also scoring a third season renewal and “The Talamasca: The Secret Order” slated for fall 2025, the network’s clearly betting big on bump-in-the-night entertainment.

What’s particularly intriguing about this renewal is the whispered promise of new “spellbound” families entering the narrative. It’s giving very much “Met Gala meets Salem Witch Trials” — established houses mixing with fresh blood, creating an absolutely divine chaos.

While they’re keeping the premiere date under wraps (such teases!), the creative machinery’s already humming. Mark Johnson’s staying on as executive producer, joining forces with Spalding, Schnauz, Michelle Ashford, and Tom Williams to craft what’s shaping up to be television’s most ambitious witch’s brew yet.

In an era where supernatural shows pop up faster than TikTok trends, this reinvention of “Mayfair Witches” proves that sometimes the boldest magic comes from knowing exactly when to switch up the spell book. Salem’s witch trials might be gathering dust in history books, but darling, the Mayfair clan’s about to remind everyone why this haunted little town never goes out of style.

Just three days into Celebrity Big Brother 2025, and already the show’s serving up a peculiar cocktail of cringe-worthy moments, unexpected alliances, and — surprisingly enough — some genuinely touching displays of human compassion.

Let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? Former MP Michael Fabricant managed to create what might be this year’s most unfortunate viral moment with an accidental poolside flash that had viewers scrambling for their remote controls. The Conservative politician’s attempt to channel his inner “sexy pool boy” went spectacularly wrong when his swimming shorts decided to rebel against their primary function — proving once again that politics and hot tubs rarely mix well.

Social media, predictably, went into meltdown. “Seen the worst f**king possible thing in my life,” declared one traumatized viewer. Host AJ Odudu couldn’t resist taking a cheeky swipe: “Well it’s not the first time a former MP has made an a** of themselves on TV, am I right?”

But amid the chaos, something rather wonderful has emerged. In what feels like a script even the most optimistic producer couldn’t have dreamed up, Love Island veteran Chris Hughes and pop phenomenon JoJo Siwa have developed this season’s most compelling “bromance.” Night-vision footage caught the unlikely pair holding hands and giggling like kids at a midnight feast — the kind of pure, unscripted moment that reminds us why reality TV can still surprise and delight.

One social media pundit hit the nail on the head: “The producers wanted to drive a Chris and Ella love story, but we’re gonna get a Chris and JoJo bromance story instead.” Funny how the best television often happens when producers just let things unfold naturally, isn’t it?

Perhaps the most significant development, though, comes in the form of the show’s thoughtful accommodation of Trisha Goddard’s participation. The beloved television personality, currently battling stage four terminal cancer, has been provided with private facilities to manage her health needs — a refreshing departure from reality TV’s often exploitative tendencies.

Goddard’s courage hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Literally losing her life and taking all opportunities coming to her to live her life and have all the experiences she can,” observed one viewer, capturing the bittersweet nature of her participation. The production team’s collaboration with Goddard’s palliative care specialists demonstrates a level of responsibility that deserves recognition.

“My palliative care team is working with the team here too,” Goddard explained, noting how her treatment schedule has been carefully woven into the show’s timeline. It’s a small but significant step forward for reality television — proving that entertainment doesn’t have to come at the cost of compassion.

As winter draws to a close and this latest iteration of Celebrity Big Brother unfolds, it’s already delivering that perfect storm of awkward moments, genuine connections, and unexpected heart that keeps audiences coming back for more. Who knows? Maybe by next week, we’ll have witnessed another poolside disaster or — hopefully — more moments of authentic human connection. Though perhaps with slightly more secure swimwear this time around.

Netflix’s latest documentary series hits uncomfortably close to home. “Bad Influence: The Dark Side of Kidfluencing” peels back the perfectly filtered veneer of social media stardom to expose something that’s been lurking in the shadows of our screens all along — a disturbing reality where childhood dreams morph into profit machines, and likes become a currency paid for with innocence.

The story begins deceptively simple. Back in 2016, eight-year-old Piper Rockelle uploaded a DIY slime tutorial to YouTube. Pretty standard fare for the platform — except what followed was anything but standard. That innocent video became the cornerstone of an empire that would eventually spark a $22 million lawsuit and send shockwaves through the creator economy.

Behind the camera stood Tiffany Smith, Piper’s mother, a former pageant mom from Georgia who’d spotted the shifting winds of child stardom. Smith had already guided her daughter to success in the beauty pageant circuit (Piper’s first crown came at age four), but the real gold rush was happening online. First came Musical.ly — now known as TikTok — then YouTube, where the serious money waited.

“She’s making this so perfect for me,” Piper told the Los Angeles Times in 2022, defending her mother’s involvement. But perfection, as it turns out, came with a price tag that no child should ever have to pay.

The allegations that surfaced in January 2022 read like a horror story. Eleven former members of “The Squad” — the rotating cast of young performers who helped build Rockelle’s channel into a viewership behemoth — filed suit against Smith and her boyfriend Hunter Hill. Their claims? A nightmarish cocktail of emotional, verbal, and physical abuse, with darker undertones that make even seasoned industry veterans flinch.

Some details from the lawsuit are almost too disturbing to print. Former Squad members describe inappropriate touching, sexually explicit comments about children’s bodies, and — in perhaps the most skin-crawling revelation — allegations that Smith mailed Rockelle’s undergarments to “an unknown individual” with specific… interests.

Sawyer Sharbino’s testimony cuts deep: “Tiffany absolutely wanted to do more questionable content to get more views and likes.” The kids allegedly faced pressure to participate in increasingly inappropriate challenges, including a “last to stop kissing” video where they received explicit instructions that no child should hear.

But the exploitation didn’t stop at content creation. When Squad members tried to break free, they claim Smith and Hill unleashed digital warfare — false flagging content, deploying bots to tank their followings, even embedding their videos on adult websites. Talk about scorched earth tactics.

What makes this whole mess particularly gut-wrenching is how it exemplifies a broader problem. The kidfluencer industry operates in a Wild West of minimal oversight and maximum profit potential. As co-director Jenna Rosher noted, many kids joined The Squad during Covid lockdowns, seeking community and creative outlet. Instead, they found something far more sinister.

The lawsuit eventually settled for $1.8 million — pocket change compared to the original ask — with Smith maintaining her innocence. Sophie Fergi, a former Squad member, put it plainly: “This lawsuit was never about money. It was to make sure she couldn’t do what she did to me to another kid.”

Fast forward to spring 2024, and 17-year-old Rockelle still commands an empire: 6.1 million Instagram followers, 14.8 million on TikTok, and 12.1 million YouTube subscribers. She stands by her mother, dismissing the accusations as “mean, untrue, and honestly all about money.”

Yet cracks are showing. In a recent video, Rockelle admitted some of her previous content “wasn’t real” — a rare glimpse behind the curtain that suggests all might not be well in the house that clicks built.

As “Bad Influence” climbs Netflix’s trending charts, it serves as more than just another true-crime documentary. It’s a wake-up call about the true cost of early fame and the desperate need for better protections in an industry that’s grown too big, too fast, with too little oversight. Sometimes, it seems, the brightest filters hide the darkest truths.

The entertainment industry’s ever-shifting power dynamics took center stage this week, serving up a stark reminder of how differently female artists’ paths can unfold in the spotlight.

Dick Clark Productions dropped some major news Wednesday — Jennifer Lopez is making her way back to the American Music Awards stage. Not as a performer this time, but as the show’s host for the upcoming 2025 ceremony. Talk about perfect timing, right? The Memorial Day spectacular in Vegas marks a decade since J.Lo first commanded the AMAs hosting gig.

CEO Jay Penske couldn’t contain his enthusiasm (and honestly, who could blame him?). “Jennifer’s incredible talent and incomparable stage presence make her the ideal host,” he gushed. Let’s face it — there’s something pretty special about booking an artist who’s the only woman to ever score a number-one album and film simultaneously.

But hold up. While J.Lo’s star continues its meteoric rise, another story bubbling up from the industry’s underbelly paints a much darker picture.

Keri Hilson finally broke her silence about that infamous 2009 Beyoncé diss track — and whew, it’s not what anyone expected. During a raw conversation with The Breakfast Club, Hilson dropped a bomb that’s got everyone rethinking what they thought they knew about the incident.

“Those weren’t even my words,” Hilson revealed, her voice carrying years of pent-up frustration. The truth? She was basically strong-armed into recording lyrics she wanted nothing to do with.

Picture this: A young artist, debut album hanging in the balance, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Producer Polow da Don hands her some pre-written shade aimed straight at Queen Bey. “Automatically, I was like, ‘I’m not saying that,’” Hilson remembered. But sometimes in this business, “no” isn’t really an option.

The controversial verse — you know the one, taking shots at “Irreplaceable” with that “move it to the left, left” dig — became the albatross around Hilson’s neck. “Super young… no power… no choice,” she shared, describing tears and protests that fell on deaf ears. The ultimatum was crystal clear: record it, or watch that debut album collect dust on a shelf.

In an unexpected twist, songwriter Ester Dean stepped into the fray via Instagram, owning up to her part in the drama. “Looking back, it was childish and didn’t age well,” Dean admitted. “I see how it hurt people, especially women, and I take full accountability.”

The contrast couldn’t be sharper. As Lopez preps for what’s sure to be a dazzling return to the AMAs stage (word is she’s cooking up something special for the show’s new CBS/Paramount+ home), Hilson’s revelations remind us that the entertainment industry’s glittering facade often masks some pretty ugly truths.

Maybe that’s what makes Lopez’s continued success so remarkable — she’s managed to navigate these treacherous waters while maintaining creative control. Meanwhile, Hilson’s story serves as a sobering reminder that for every artist who breaks through the industry’s power structure, there’s another who got caught in its gears.

As we look ahead to that Memorial Day broadcast in 2025, these parallel narratives offer more than just entertainment news. They’re a testament to how far the industry’s come — and a stark reminder of how far it still needs to go.

The Library of Congress just dropped its latest additions to the National Recording Registry, and boy, does this year’s lineup feel like flipping through the ultimate American mixtape. Twenty-five new recordings — each one a distinct thread in our cultural fabric — have earned their spot in this prestigious archive, and the selections are nothing short of fascinating.

Remember that six-second Windows 95 startup sound? (Yeah, the one that used to wake up half the office.) Well, Brian Eno’s brief-but-iconic composition just landed itself a place alongside some pretty impressive company. Who’d have thought that tiny digital chime would one day share shelf space with the likes of Miles Davis and Elton John?

Speaking of musical giants, Davis’s “Bitches Brew” finally gets its due recognition. That 1970 masterpiece didn’t just push boundaries — it flat-out ignored them, creating something entirely new from the collision of jazz and rock. And then there’s Sir Elton’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” an album so stuffed with hits it’s practically bursting at the seams.

But here’s where things get really interesting. Minecraft’s “Volume Alpha” soundtrack made the cut — and honestly, it makes perfect sense. Daniel Rosenfeld’s haunting melodies have probably logged more listening hours than most pop songs, accompanying millions through their digital adventures. Not bad for a bunch of bleeps and bloops, right?

The registry’s choices reflect some powerful moments in our collective journey, too. Tracy Chapman’s debut album, with “Fast Car” leading the charge, reminds us how a single voice armed with truth can stop everyone in their tracks. Mary J. Blige’s “My Life” — raw, real, and absolutely essential — showcases why she’ll always be royalty in the hip-hop soul world.

Some selections feel particularly poignant now in 2025. Chuck Thompson’s 1960 World Series broadcast captures a slice of pure Americana that seems almost quaint in our era of augmented reality sports coverage. Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman” hits differently too, especially given the recent developments in gender equality legislation.

The collection spans decades and genres with impressive reach. From the groundbreaking success of Charley Pride’s “Kiss an Angel Good Mornin’” to the cultural phenomenon of “Hamilton,” from Amy Winehouse’s soul-baring “Back to Black” to Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” (c’mon, you’re humming it now, aren’t you?), each recording tells its own unique story.

Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden summed it up perfectly when she called these selections “the sounds of America.” They’re more than just recordings — they’re timestamps of our evolution, preserved not just for their technical merit but for their role in shaping who we’ve become.

In the end, this year’s additions to the Registry prove something rather beautiful: whether it’s through a protest song, a jazz fusion experiment, or even a video game soundtrack, music remains our most faithful storyteller. And now these stories have a permanent home, right where they belong.

Marvel’s marketing department has officially lost their minds — and it’s absolutely glorious. In what might be the most delightfully unhinged promotional stunt since that time someone livestreamed paint drying for 24 hours, they’ve blessed us with an 8.5-hour video of Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine… breathing. Just breathing. With some ambient music thrown in for good measure.

Let that sink in for a moment.

The entertainment behemoth dropped this marathon of measured respiration to commemorate National Stress Awareness Month. “Breathe deep and feel your adamantium bones melt away,” declares the caption, with the kind of straight-faced earnestness that makes you wonder if someone’s been huffing too much Infinity Stone dust in the marketing department.

But here’s the kicker — Jackman isn’t just lounging around in sweats. He’s decked out in that gorgeous yellow suit (minus the cowl, naturally), striking poses that would probably raise your blood pressure rather than lower it. Around the four-hour mark — because apparently that’s a thing we need to reference now — he recreates Frank Miller’s iconic cover from Claremont’s Wolverine #1. It’s the kind of detail that transforms this utterly bonkers concept into something approaching… well, still bonkers, but with a dash of comic book reverence.

This isn’t Marvel’s first rodeo with marathon-length promotional stunts, either. Remember that bizarre five-hour chair video announcing the “Avengers: Doomsday” cast? At this point, it seems like someone at Marvel Studios has developed a peculiar fascination with testing just how long fans will stare at their screens. (Spoiler alert: apparently forever.)

Speaking of “Doomsday” — there’s an interesting wrinkle here. While the old Fox X-Men guard (Stewart, McKellen, even Kelsey Grammar, bless him) are all confirmed for the upcoming superhero extravaganza, Jackman’s name was conspicuously absent from that endless chair announcement. Makes you wonder what game they’re playing, doesn’t it?

The timing’s particularly curious, what with “Deadpool & Wolverine” fresh on Disney+. Their new synopsis reads like something scribbled on a napkin after one too many chimichangas: “Marvel Studios presents their most significant mistake to date – Deadpool & Wolverine.” Classic Marvel, throwing shade at themselves while counting their $1.3 billion box office haul.

Oh, and because someone at Marvel apparently has a twisted sense of humor, there’s a jump-scare waiting at the end of those 510 minutes. Nothing says “stress relief” quite like an unexpected fright after spending a full workday watching the world’s most famous Canadian mutant practice his breathing exercises.

Look, maybe this is brilliant marketing. Maybe it’s complete madness. Perhaps it’s both — a beautiful testament to the fact that Marvel could probably release eight hours of Hugh Jackman reading the phone book, and millions would still tune in. In an era where TikTok has convinced us that our attention spans are shorter than a goldfish’s, there’s something almost rebelliously refreshing about Marvel’s commitment to these absurdly lengthy promotional videos.

Then again, when you’re sitting atop the entertainment industry, maybe you can afford to get a little weird. And honestly? We’re here for it.