She might be estranged from her sorority sisters at Delta Gamma, but Rebecca Martinson is now a household name, though some would say for all the wrong reasons. In the span of one week (an eon in Internet time), the sorority girl has risen from total obscurity to viral star to yesterday’s news.

Why? Her scathing, unintentionally hysterical letter to her fellow sorority sisters, chiding them for being so effing lame, first turned up on April 18 on Gawker and Deadspin, and quickly caught fire on the Internet. Faster than you could click and email that link, Martinson was on her way to the Internet Hall of Fame—and subsequently the Hall of Shame. Consider your neck snapped.

George Jones had one supreme talent. He could sing. Every time this country star stepped up to a microphone and opened his mouth, you heard something inimitable, something that might be copied but never successfully imitated. No one else could sing like he could, and no one ever will.

Jones, who died Friday, April 26 at 81, was not much of a songwriter or a guitar player. He wasn’t particularly good looking, and his spangly nudie suits weren’t any more outrageous than any other sartorial extravanganzas on the Grand Ole Opry (although it’s worth noting that he was one of the very last country and western stars to stick with a flat-top haircut). But every time he wrapped his voice around a lyric, he owned it.

In this week’s top music video picks, we take a journey through the domino effect, some sci-fi dancing, and a sizzling 1950s New Orleans. From hip-hop to electronic and indie rock, and featuring artists like Justin Bieber and Russ Chimes, see which music videos are becoming viral.

30 Seconds to Mars: “Up in the Air”

He is reviled by critics and beloved by fanboys, who have shelled out billions of dollars in allowance money to partake in his assorted symphonies of destruction. His high-octane oeuvre has laid waste to Pearl Harbor and Chicago (the Transformers franchise), as well as Paris, New York City, and Shanghai in Armageddon.

But now Michael Bay has decided to return to his Bad Boys roots with Pain and Gain (in theaters April 26). Based on a series of 1999 Miami New Times articles by Pete Collins, the film chronicles the kidnapping, torture, and extortion of businessman Victor Kershaw (Tony Shalhoub) by a gang of bodybuilders known as the “Sun Gym Gang,” including ringleader Daniel Lugo (Mark Wahlberg), God-fearing Paul Doyle (Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson), and Adrian Doorbal (Anthony Mackie).

A young Muslim man, once a lover of America and now estranged. An act of terror that reverberates halfway across the world. And a cat-and-mouse hunt, with the American authorities hoping to find the bad guys before it's too late. Throw in a deeply moving love story and lush scenes of Lahore, and you'll have the building blocks of The Reluctant Fundamentalist, the latest film from director Mira Nair (Monsoon Wedding, Mississippi Masala). Based on the novel of the same name by Mohsin Hamid, it's the coming-of-age tale of Changez (Riz Ahmed), a Pakistani boy from a once-prominent family whose meteoric rise through the ranks of Princeton and Wall Street is abruptly altered by the tragic events of 9/11. The film—which toggles back and forth between Changez's backstory, including an affair with the wealthy, haunted Erica (Kate Hudson), and a present-day hostage crisis involving a kidnapped professor and a CIA manhunt—tackles the powerful themes of home and exile, of the global “war on terror,” and of the questions a young man must ask of himself and his conscience. The Daily Beast caught up with Nair and her film's stars to talk about the movie—which is out this Friday in the U.S.—and why Changez's tale is more relevant than ever today. Excerpts:

In case it wasn’t already clear after he threatened to “fucking beat the fuck” out of a photographer or when he posted an illustration on Instagram implying he just had sex with a (topless) fan, Justin Bieber is now, officially, all grown up. The once precocious moppet has now officially made the transition to petulant badass after successfully completing the child-star rite of passage: getting busted for pot.

After catching a distinct whiff of the green ganja coming from Bieber’s tour bus in Sweden while it was parked in front of a hotel, Stockholm police notified a narcotics unit, which boarded the bus and discovered that Bieber and his camp were apparently harboring a small amount of marijuana. No one is being charged, since the bus was empty at the time, and no suspect could be officially identified, but that hardly curbs the tidal wave of leap-to-conclusions headlines: “Beloved North American Pop-Star Baby Now a Drug Fiend!”

To anyone who “kept up” with Khloé Kardashian’s trajectory as co-host of The X Factor, the reality star’s firing this week from the show hardly comes as a surprise. She had no live TV experience, no hosting experience, and no musical experience. She was a deer in headlights in every sense of the phrase, a wide-eyed Bambi fumbling to gather her legs under her in a job she couldn’t have been more ill suited to fill.

Her eyes would dart back and forth between cameras, unsure of where she should be looking. She’d literally shout at viewers, thinking she had to be heard over the screaming live audience. A fixed, terrified smile never left her face as she robotically recited whatever lines were being fed to her by producers. “Wow. What a phenomenal night,” she’d offer in a staccato deadpan. Certainly, there was no meaningful connection being made with the contestants. “I’m so nervous and I’m not ... even ... any of these ... groups ... right now,” she once lifelessly shrugged as a handful of competitors awaited their fates.