Spelman College has suspended an endowed professorship established and funded by comedian Bill Cosby and his wife, Camille. The couple gave $20 million to the school in the 1980s. The suspension follows allegations by more than a dozen women that they were drugged and sexually assaulted by the comedian. Cosby denies the allegations. He has not been charged with a crime. Spelman says on its website:"The William and Camille Olivia Hanks Cosby Endowed Professorship was established to bring positive…
Reported by bizjournals 17 hours ago.
↧
Spelman suspends program funded by Bill Cosby
↧
Broadchurch remake Gracepoint reveals different killer in shock finale
Olivia Colman’s performance broke our hearts in the dramatic Broadchurch finale last year, but writers have given a different ending to US remake Gracepoint.
Reported by Independent 16 hours ago.
↧
↧
VIDEO: Official Broadchurch trailer released ahead of series two

↧
Cheney: Terrorist Threat Today 'As Bad As It Was on 9-11'
By:
Susan Jones
Former U.S. Vice President Dick Cheney. (AP Photo/Olivia Harris, Pool, File)
read more Reported by CNSNews.com 15 hours ago.
Susan Jones
Former U.S. Vice President Dick Cheney. (AP Photo/Olivia Harris, Pool, File)
read more Reported by CNSNews.com 15 hours ago.
↧
Olivia Culpo: Boyfriend Nick Jonas Opens Up About Jealousy and His Sex Life
Olivia Culpo’s boyfriend, Nick Jonas, admitted that he was “jealous” in the early stages of his relationship. The couple, who attended Taylor Swift‘s birthday party on Sunday, have been dating for 18 months, and while Jonas said his relationship with …
Reported by WebProNews 15 hours ago.
↧
↧
Blackstone to sell retail-center stake to Kimco for $512M (Video)
Dec. 12 (Bloomberg) -- Blackstone Group LP agreed to sell a majority stake in 39 U.S. shopping centers to joint-venture partner Kimco Realty Corp. for $512.3 million. Bloomberg's Olivia Sterns reports on "In The Loop." (Source: Bloomberg)
Reported by bizjournals 12 hours ago.
↧
Spelman College Suspends Bill Cosby-Funded Program
"The William and Camille Olivia Hanks Cosby Endowed Professorship was established to bring positive attention and accomplished visiting scholars to Spelman College in order to enhance our intellectual, cultural and creative life," a school spokeswoman told the paper. [...] we will suspend the program until such time that the original goals can again be met.
Reported by SeattlePI.com 10 hours ago.
↧
I'm 40. I Don't Want to Be a Mom. Now What?
By Glynnis MacNicol
I've known plenty of women who always knew they wanted children. I've known more than a few who, for reasons having to do with upbringing, genetics, economics, and so forth, have always known they didn't and actively chose not to have them. I fit in neither of those categories. I've been surrounded by children for much of my adult life, gratefully so -- and yet for me, the idea of motherhood has always been a nebulous thing, hovering somewhere in the distance, out of my direct line of sight. It was something I knew I was supposed to want, but never went after with the fierceness of some of my friends, or the fierceness I apply to other goals.
This fall I turned 40 and found myself at the nexus of a particularly modern phenomenon: In the last year, many of my friends have either married for the first time, divorced for the first time, or had their first child. Having kids is not something a woman can back-burner forever, and as I've watched friends take the leap, the reality that I would not be able to leave to fate the matter of children much longer persistently crept to the forefront of my mind. It was less a pressing need to have a child than a deep, nagging fear that I wouldn't be okay without one.
Then, last month I went to help my sister take care of her three children. Four days before I arrived, she'd given birth to my nephew, and he was now home with my niece, 3½, and my other nephew, 5. The two weeks I spent there have since become a blur: overwhelming, glorious, exhausting. The part that remains crystal clear in my mind, however, are the evenings I would spend alone with the newborn. Every night while my sister put the kids to bed, or took some much-needed time to rest herself, I would take my nephew. We'd sit in the darkened, now-quiet living room, he'd hold my fingers, we'd gaze into each other's eyes, and I would sing to him until he fell peacefully asleep. Is there another deeper, more meaningful word for magical? It was that. There we would stay, silently together, and even after I was confident he was soundly asleep and knew I could safely open my computer without waking him, I would force myself to continue to stare at him. Really look. And wait.
Here, then, was the showdown I had been both looking for and avoiding: Here we go, this is it, no distractions now! If my biological clock, the unforgiving overlord of every woman's life (or so we are conditioned to think, basically from birth), is going explode into 1 million pieces and rip my heart to shreds, now's the time. I would stare at him more. Harder. Waiting to be washed away in waves of regret over bad relationship decisions, bad life decisions, bad whatever decisions that had brought me to this age childless. I would wait for the full-blown panic attack that would inevitably follow the realization that if I wanted this to be mine, I would have to figure something out right now, and even then, it would be a total unlikely crapshoot. I waited and waited and waited, all the while making myself look the beast -- the perfect, new, sweet, gorgeous, six-pound beast -- in the face.
But nothing happened.
The explosion, the regret, the panic never arrived.
Instead, I found myself considering carefully the life I'd created for myself -- one I had always been conditioned to understand I should want to escape or be rescued from -- and started weighing it against the possibility of creating a new life, a baby. I realized that so many of those things I valued in my current life would cease to be if I opted for motherhood. Perhaps for the first time I began thinking of my life as something intentional, rather than a for-the-time-being existence. And it dawned on me that I didn't want to escape from it. Quite the contrary, I loved it.
Night after night I reached the same conclusion. By the end of those two weeks, I knew, knew, I'd be okay without children. I knew I did not want this motherhood thing, an idea I had, without much thought, signed off on early on as being something I should want. If fate knocked me up, I'd be okay. But if it didn't, that was pretty great also. Maybe greater. Though I tend to steer clear of the "having it all" belief system that plagues nearly everything written for women, it was a relief to discover I did not actually want it all. It was a relief to think I could go forth and date without the judging elephant in the room silently wondering: Is he father material? Is he worried I'm wondering if he's father material? Is he hoping to be father material? Every single person I've dated in the last five years has raised the subject of children first, usually on the first date. Without fail I would shrug and say I didn't not want them. That shrug has now become a confident understanding that I'll be okay without them. Whatever part of me, small though it was, that viewed men as a solution to a problem I was supposed to be suffering from is gone for good.
So now what? As my friend Stacy London said, "Breaking up with motherhood is more complicated than simply not wanting children. It is breaking up with our perceived use-value. It is looking at what we as single, childless women, unfettered by traditional roles, want to offer the world." Life, particularly life for women, is marked with widely acknowledged signposts, beginning with puberty, then marriage, then children -- or, failing that, devoting our lives to charity or career, two things women are often required to give in exchange for not producing a child. We may balk at the restrictions and create our own detours, but the established guidebook is there, as is the reward system for checking off the boxes. Look no further than the recent New York Times piece that informed its readers that for many women, it's "the wedding day that heralds true success." Even though single women now make up 23 percent of the electorate, as Rebecca Traister noted last month, there are very few socially recognizable, condoned paths through the particular woods called your 40s as a single and/or childless woman that (a) don't immediately define you as such, and (b) aren't dark and twisty and lined with aforementioned "Style" section stories aimed at making you feel guilty, ashamed, judged, a failure, or freakish.
I feel none of those things. Zero. Neither do so many of the women I know and admire who are walking a similar path to me, which is likely why all the stories telling me I am terrible for veering off the path have long ceased to instill great panic in me. True, we are slowly seeing signs of this changing demographic in the cultural landscape -- Olivia Pope, Mindy Lahiri, even, to some extent, Katniss Everdeen (and when those fail, there's always Auntie Mame and her glorious duplex on Beekman) -- but I'm hungry to see something a bit more far-seeing and celebratory. Something that reflects my own conclusion that what I have is fucking terrific and hard and joyous and satisfying, and that basically, I've won the lottery. I'm starting to suspect I will be part of the generation creating these new models, an idea that's both terrifying and exhilarating.
I am fortunate to have a life that is full of children: the ones I'm related to, the ones who are my godchildren, the ones whose parents' wills I am written into as unofficial guardian. I adore them, they adore me, and we will be a part of each other's lives permanently. But my life is also my own, and I am very, very free to do as I chose. That is a big deal, and something I value beyond measure. Sometimes I imagine traveling back in time to any point prior to 1972 and telling women how much freedom I have: I get to have children in my life, and I also get to have a life without them. Which I suppose in many ways means I'm living life as men have been allowed to live it, time out of mind. Perhaps I do have it all.*See more from The Cut:
25 Famous Women on Childlessness
What If You Just Don't Know If You Want Kids?
I Tried to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Here's What Happened.
21 NYC Women Confess the Dumbest Thing They Spend Their Money On
New York Women Draw Their Own Boobs
I'm Not a Spinster Aunt, I'm a PANK
Follow The Cut on twitter: https://twitter.com/TheCut*
*ALSO ON HUFFPOST:* Reported by Huffington Post 8 hours ago.
I've known plenty of women who always knew they wanted children. I've known more than a few who, for reasons having to do with upbringing, genetics, economics, and so forth, have always known they didn't and actively chose not to have them. I fit in neither of those categories. I've been surrounded by children for much of my adult life, gratefully so -- and yet for me, the idea of motherhood has always been a nebulous thing, hovering somewhere in the distance, out of my direct line of sight. It was something I knew I was supposed to want, but never went after with the fierceness of some of my friends, or the fierceness I apply to other goals.
This fall I turned 40 and found myself at the nexus of a particularly modern phenomenon: In the last year, many of my friends have either married for the first time, divorced for the first time, or had their first child. Having kids is not something a woman can back-burner forever, and as I've watched friends take the leap, the reality that I would not be able to leave to fate the matter of children much longer persistently crept to the forefront of my mind. It was less a pressing need to have a child than a deep, nagging fear that I wouldn't be okay without one.
Then, last month I went to help my sister take care of her three children. Four days before I arrived, she'd given birth to my nephew, and he was now home with my niece, 3½, and my other nephew, 5. The two weeks I spent there have since become a blur: overwhelming, glorious, exhausting. The part that remains crystal clear in my mind, however, are the evenings I would spend alone with the newborn. Every night while my sister put the kids to bed, or took some much-needed time to rest herself, I would take my nephew. We'd sit in the darkened, now-quiet living room, he'd hold my fingers, we'd gaze into each other's eyes, and I would sing to him until he fell peacefully asleep. Is there another deeper, more meaningful word for magical? It was that. There we would stay, silently together, and even after I was confident he was soundly asleep and knew I could safely open my computer without waking him, I would force myself to continue to stare at him. Really look. And wait.
Here, then, was the showdown I had been both looking for and avoiding: Here we go, this is it, no distractions now! If my biological clock, the unforgiving overlord of every woman's life (or so we are conditioned to think, basically from birth), is going explode into 1 million pieces and rip my heart to shreds, now's the time. I would stare at him more. Harder. Waiting to be washed away in waves of regret over bad relationship decisions, bad life decisions, bad whatever decisions that had brought me to this age childless. I would wait for the full-blown panic attack that would inevitably follow the realization that if I wanted this to be mine, I would have to figure something out right now, and even then, it would be a total unlikely crapshoot. I waited and waited and waited, all the while making myself look the beast -- the perfect, new, sweet, gorgeous, six-pound beast -- in the face.
But nothing happened.
The explosion, the regret, the panic never arrived.
Instead, I found myself considering carefully the life I'd created for myself -- one I had always been conditioned to understand I should want to escape or be rescued from -- and started weighing it against the possibility of creating a new life, a baby. I realized that so many of those things I valued in my current life would cease to be if I opted for motherhood. Perhaps for the first time I began thinking of my life as something intentional, rather than a for-the-time-being existence. And it dawned on me that I didn't want to escape from it. Quite the contrary, I loved it.
Night after night I reached the same conclusion. By the end of those two weeks, I knew, knew, I'd be okay without children. I knew I did not want this motherhood thing, an idea I had, without much thought, signed off on early on as being something I should want. If fate knocked me up, I'd be okay. But if it didn't, that was pretty great also. Maybe greater. Though I tend to steer clear of the "having it all" belief system that plagues nearly everything written for women, it was a relief to discover I did not actually want it all. It was a relief to think I could go forth and date without the judging elephant in the room silently wondering: Is he father material? Is he worried I'm wondering if he's father material? Is he hoping to be father material? Every single person I've dated in the last five years has raised the subject of children first, usually on the first date. Without fail I would shrug and say I didn't not want them. That shrug has now become a confident understanding that I'll be okay without them. Whatever part of me, small though it was, that viewed men as a solution to a problem I was supposed to be suffering from is gone for good.
So now what? As my friend Stacy London said, "Breaking up with motherhood is more complicated than simply not wanting children. It is breaking up with our perceived use-value. It is looking at what we as single, childless women, unfettered by traditional roles, want to offer the world." Life, particularly life for women, is marked with widely acknowledged signposts, beginning with puberty, then marriage, then children -- or, failing that, devoting our lives to charity or career, two things women are often required to give in exchange for not producing a child. We may balk at the restrictions and create our own detours, but the established guidebook is there, as is the reward system for checking off the boxes. Look no further than the recent New York Times piece that informed its readers that for many women, it's "the wedding day that heralds true success." Even though single women now make up 23 percent of the electorate, as Rebecca Traister noted last month, there are very few socially recognizable, condoned paths through the particular woods called your 40s as a single and/or childless woman that (a) don't immediately define you as such, and (b) aren't dark and twisty and lined with aforementioned "Style" section stories aimed at making you feel guilty, ashamed, judged, a failure, or freakish.
I feel none of those things. Zero. Neither do so many of the women I know and admire who are walking a similar path to me, which is likely why all the stories telling me I am terrible for veering off the path have long ceased to instill great panic in me. True, we are slowly seeing signs of this changing demographic in the cultural landscape -- Olivia Pope, Mindy Lahiri, even, to some extent, Katniss Everdeen (and when those fail, there's always Auntie Mame and her glorious duplex on Beekman) -- but I'm hungry to see something a bit more far-seeing and celebratory. Something that reflects my own conclusion that what I have is fucking terrific and hard and joyous and satisfying, and that basically, I've won the lottery. I'm starting to suspect I will be part of the generation creating these new models, an idea that's both terrifying and exhilarating.
I am fortunate to have a life that is full of children: the ones I'm related to, the ones who are my godchildren, the ones whose parents' wills I am written into as unofficial guardian. I adore them, they adore me, and we will be a part of each other's lives permanently. But my life is also my own, and I am very, very free to do as I chose. That is a big deal, and something I value beyond measure. Sometimes I imagine traveling back in time to any point prior to 1972 and telling women how much freedom I have: I get to have children in my life, and I also get to have a life without them. Which I suppose in many ways means I'm living life as men have been allowed to live it, time out of mind. Perhaps I do have it all.*See more from The Cut:
25 Famous Women on Childlessness
What If You Just Don't Know If You Want Kids?
I Tried to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Here's What Happened.
21 NYC Women Confess the Dumbest Thing They Spend Their Money On
New York Women Draw Their Own Boobs
I'm Not a Spinster Aunt, I'm a PANK
Follow The Cut on twitter: https://twitter.com/TheCut*
*ALSO ON HUFFPOST:* Reported by Huffington Post 8 hours ago.
↧
Olivia Colman Quit Public Transport Over Broadchurch Badgering
Reported by ContactMusic 4 hours ago.
↧
↧
Spelman College Halts Professorship Bearing Bill Cosby's Name
ATLANTA, Dec 15 (Reuters) - A women's college in Atlanta has suspended a visiting professor program named for comedian Bill Cosby and his wife amid allegations from more than a dozen women that the entertainer drugged and sexually assaulted them.
Spelman College created the William and Camille Olivia Hanks Cosby Endowed Professorship in 1996 following a $20 million donation from the couple. An academic center named for Cosby's wife also opened that year.
Officials at the historically black school said in a statement on Sunday that the endowed professorship, created to attract positive attention and accomplished visiting scholars, was being put on hold.
"The current context prevents us from continuing to meet these objectives fully," the statement said. "Consequently, we will suspend the program until such time that the original goals can again be met."
A college spokeswoman declined further comment on Monday.
Cosby, 77, is best known for playing Dr. Cliff Huxtable on "The Cosby Show," which aired from 1984 to 1992. He has not been criminally charged, and through his lawyers, denies the allegations of incidents that go back decades.
In an interview with the New York Post published online on Saturday, Cosby criticized the media for its coverage of accusations that have strained his image as an admired father figure.
Earlier this month, Cosby resigned from the board of trustees of his alma mater, Temple University, in Philadelphia. The University of Massachusetts Amherst and Berklee College of Music in Boston also have cut ties with the him and High Point University in North Carolina removed Cosby from its board of advisers. (Editing by Colleen Jenkins and Bill; Trott) Reported by PopEater 3 hours ago.
Spelman College created the William and Camille Olivia Hanks Cosby Endowed Professorship in 1996 following a $20 million donation from the couple. An academic center named for Cosby's wife also opened that year.
Officials at the historically black school said in a statement on Sunday that the endowed professorship, created to attract positive attention and accomplished visiting scholars, was being put on hold.
"The current context prevents us from continuing to meet these objectives fully," the statement said. "Consequently, we will suspend the program until such time that the original goals can again be met."
A college spokeswoman declined further comment on Monday.
Cosby, 77, is best known for playing Dr. Cliff Huxtable on "The Cosby Show," which aired from 1984 to 1992. He has not been criminally charged, and through his lawyers, denies the allegations of incidents that go back decades.
In an interview with the New York Post published online on Saturday, Cosby criticized the media for its coverage of accusations that have strained his image as an admired father figure.
Earlier this month, Cosby resigned from the board of trustees of his alma mater, Temple University, in Philadelphia. The University of Massachusetts Amherst and Berklee College of Music in Boston also have cut ties with the him and High Point University in North Carolina removed Cosby from its board of advisers. (Editing by Colleen Jenkins and Bill; Trott) Reported by PopEater 3 hours ago.
↧
Celebrity Twitter Chatter: Reese Witherspoon Got the Best Gift Ever, Olivia Wilde is Bummed and More

↧
Sudden death of 'kind and caring mum' leaves family distraught

↧
Sony hires the crisis specialist who inspired 'Scandal'
Sony Pictures Entertainment's not-so-secret weapon against North Korea and bad press? Olivia Pope. Well, sort of.
Following a swelling PR nightmare in light of an extensive attack by anonymous hackers, which prompted Sony to cancel the theatrical release of its film The Interview, the company has hired crisis specialist Judy Smith — the woman whose career inspired Kerry Washington's character on hit ABC drama Scandal
See also: A complete recap of 'The Interview,' the movie Sony may never show you
TMZ broke the news of Smith's involvement with Sony, reporting that she has already begun "quietly advising Sony Pictures chief Amy Pascal." The Hollywood Reporter later confirmed news of the hire Read more...
More about Sony, Scandal, Entertainment, Film, and Tv Reported by Mashable 2 days ago.
Following a swelling PR nightmare in light of an extensive attack by anonymous hackers, which prompted Sony to cancel the theatrical release of its film The Interview, the company has hired crisis specialist Judy Smith — the woman whose career inspired Kerry Washington's character on hit ABC drama Scandal
See also: A complete recap of 'The Interview,' the movie Sony may never show you
TMZ broke the news of Smith's involvement with Sony, reporting that she has already begun "quietly advising Sony Pictures chief Amy Pascal." The Hollywood Reporter later confirmed news of the hire Read more...
More about Sony, Scandal, Entertainment, Film, and Tv Reported by Mashable 2 days ago.
↧
↧
Sony Hires Olivia Pope Inspiration Judy Smith To Handle 'Interview' Runoff

Hired to assist Sony with the ensuing aftermath of "The Interview" and the hack, Smith previously served as President George H.W. Bush's deputy press secretary and started her own crisis management firm, Smith & Company. Smith has worked with high-profile clients like Monica Lewinsky, Wesley Snipes and Michael Vick.
Following President Obama's remarks, Sony released a statement on Friday, explaining that much of the decision was in the hands of theater owners:
Sony Pictures Entertainment is and always has been strongly committed to the First Amendment. For more than three weeks, despite brutal intrusions into our company and our employees’ personal lives, we maintained our focus on one goal: getting the film "The Interview" released. Free expression should never be suppressed by threats and extortion.
The decision not to move forward with the December 25 theatrical release of "The Interview" was made as a result of the majority of the nation’s theater owners choosing not to screen the film. This was their decision.
Let us be clear – the only decision that we have made with respect to release of the film was not to release it on Christmas Day in theaters, after the theater owners declined to show it. Without theaters, we could not release it in the theaters on Christmas Day. We had no choice. After that decision, we immediately began actively surveying alternatives to enable us to release the movie on a different platform. It is still our hope that anyone who wants to see this movie will get the opportunity to do so. Reported by PopEater 2 days ago.
↧
Dark secrets of Broadchurch 2: Writer of next month's hotly anticipated sequel warns viewers to 'brace yourselves for upset and shock with the cheekiest cliffhanger yet'

↧
Dark secrets of Broadchurch 2: Writer of next month's hotly anticipated sequel warns viewers to 'brace yourselves for upset and shock with the cheekiest cliffhanger yet

↧
Hit TV series Broadchurch a banker for tourism as well

↧
↧
When does Broadchurch series two start on ITV?

↧
Sony Allegedly Hires Real Life Olivia Pope To Help Contain Massive Hack
Reported by ContactMusic 2 days ago.
↧
Real-life Olivia Pope hired by Sony in wake of hack scandal
The woman who inspired Scandal's Olivia Pope will help respond to backlash.
Reported by Digital Spy 1 day ago.
↧