The revolution will in fact be televised. And blogged. And web-cammed. And MySpaced.

Every now and then comes a story that leads me to believe the hype over Web 2.0 isn't so much hot (virtual?) air.

New York Times Magazine contributor Clive Thompson has an insanely fascinating story about a small but growing niche of indie musicians who have built an audience for themselves through personal and social-networking websites - and created a mountain of clerical work in the bargain. (Do check out the video that accompanies the story too.)

The unintended consequence of Web-driven popularity is that fans expect an unprecedented amount of personal interaction online. Thompson notes, of course, that stars like Justin Timberlake and Beyonce maintain the kind of old-school popularity that allows one to bask in waves of anonymous, impersonal adoration. But B-list artists, as Thompson calls them, must answer email, consider fans' career advice -- and, in some vague, 21st-century sense, be their friends.

This is new.

It's been a long time in coming, in a way. As soon as bands like U2 installed webcams in their studios and the Rolling Stones took online requests for one slot of their setlist, it stood to reason that fans would want more and more intimate involvement with their favorite rock stars. Now, thanks to Thompson, we see that it's the second- and third-tier artists who are bearing the brunt of these innovations -- for the simple reason that, like Thompson's lead subject, Jonathan Coulton, exist somewhat at the pleasure of these very intense online communities.

One positive effect of this phenomenon is that it allows singer-songwriters like Coulton to play to a decent amount of people on tour, as opposed to shagging the coastlines and playing in half-empty urban coffeehouses. Thompson notes that Coulton's touring schedule is a series of surgical strikes: He'll play obscure little towns -- because he knows, in advance (thanks to his web interaction), where a hundred or more people will gather in his name.

If a pile of pesky emails is the downside of all this, it seems to me like a tolerable trade-off.

- Scott Galupo

Who didn't see this coming? Michael Moore screened his "Sicko" attack on the health-care industry at Cannes, and the A-list critics are ready to lap it up.

Slate.com's Doree Shafrir rounds up the early buzz thus:

Michael Moore's new documentary--an indictment of the American health-care industry--screened to an approving audience at Cannes over the weekend, but not before an unauthorized trip Moore made to Cuba during filming prompted a stateside controversy and an investigation by the Treasury Department. In their Cannes Journal, the New York Times' Manohla Dargis and A.O. Scott praise the movie, noting that "while Mr. Moore remains a radical partisan, he has learned how to sell his argument with a softer touch. He's still the P.T. Barnum of activist cinema, but he no longer runs the entire circus directly from the spotlight." Entertainment Weekly's Lisa Schwarzbaum agrees, remarking, "[T]here's a certain robust clarity of political activism in this latest salvo from media provocateur Michael Moore that marks a new maturity." The Associated Press describes Sicko as a film about "ordinary Americans telling heart-wrenching stories of being refused vital treatment," while the Huffington Post calls it "a rejoinder for those who think we can fix the soulless monster by tinkering with an unconscionable system that puts us further in thrall to those who created the crisis."

This follows Jeffrey Kluger's softball interview with Moore for Time magazine, in which Kluger asks Moore if he's picked an "easy target," since, "after all, you can't find a whole lot of people who are happy with their HMO."

Right away, media types are granting Moore all kinds of substantive ground without ever pausing to evaluate things like, you know, facts. Actually, in his review of "Fahrenheit 9/11," the New York Times' A.O. Scott said, "Mr. Moore is often impolite, rarely subtle and occasionally unwise. He can be obnoxious, tendentious and maddeningly self-contradictory. He can drive even his most ardent admirers crazy. He is a credit to the republic."

So there you have it: Moore is all those things, and yet a "credit to the republic." Under these extremely hospitable circumstances, how can Moore, in any sense, ever be "wrong" about anything, so long as he is sentimentally on the "right" side of whatever topic he's addressing?

It's no wonder, then, that it's left to the so-called wingnut media to debunk Moore, when mainstream critics refuse to appraise his films qua films and, instead, embrace them as organs of acceptable agitprop?

- Scott Galupo

Or is it Annie?

Via Stereogum, I pass on to you this intriguing interpretation of the Band's classic track "The Weight." Among other factoids - Robbie Robertson had been heavily influenced by Bunuel at the time; who knew? -- this very knowledgeable Band-head clarifies the refrain's Fanny/Annie conundrum that had plagued me for years. Sort of like "Kiss this guy" vs. "Kiss the sky," only much less homoerotic.

Anyway, since I don't have anything sum-uppity to say on this Wednesday, I'll share a couple more links.

Here's the new Michel Gondry-directed video of Paul McCartney's latest single, "Dance Tonight." It stars Natalie Portman, which is never a bad thing -- and, best of all, the song's pretty cool. Go Macca! (If you dig Gondry's insouciant surrealism, treat yourself to this clip too.)

Finally, readers may recall my acute allergy for the climate of hysterical overprotection that hovers over modern American parenting. Here, Brink Lindsey fondly recalls the past while poking gentle fun at the present.

- Scott Galupo