Nick and Joe Jonas say they were asked uncomfortable questions as teenagers about their purity rings
"Famously we were known for like purity rings, which were something in the community of a church where that was like what everybody else in our age were doing around 10, 11 years old, like, we're going to wait for the right person," Joe explained on Penn Badgley's Podcrushed.
Joe, who was joined by fellow Jonas Brothers Nick and Kevin for the interview, added that "one person on an interview when you're 15, 16 would ask you about it, and you're like, 'I don't want to talk about this,' and then they're like, 'Well, I'm going to write that you guys are in a cult.'"
At this point, Badgley pointed out the grossness of asking "a 10-year-old" about anything intimate in the first place. Nick clarified that he wasn't 10, but noted that the industry has come "far" in "just the conversation and dialogue" since that time.
"I think it's really a good thing," he said, explaining, "Where it would be like so outside of the realm of possibilities or something someone would do to ask at that time a 14-year-old about their sex life."
Joe jumped in, claiming that "it was every interview" that these topics would come up in, but Nick was quick to point out that it wasn't just happening to them, but it was a larger problem in the industry as whole for young stars.
The brothers said they also felt pressure to live their lives a certain way as a result of things they said in these interviews, which would also sometimes question their religion. "Whether it was sex, or it was even religion or Christianity, [they'd be] questioning things like questioning if I believe in God, what is God? Is there even a God? And it's on the record. And you're like, uh... and so you felt the pressure," Joe said, adding, "I can definitely speak for all three of us here. [We] felt the pressure of being like, well, we have to live these lives because we kind of said it in a paper once. And it's in print, so you got to do it forever."
When the Jonas Brothers first signed with Columbia Records in 2005, Kevin was 17, Joe was 15, and Nick was 12, and the musicians and actors had a whirlwind rise to stardom ever since.
Though the aforementioned media scrutiny wasn't easy, the brothers eventually learned to make peace with it all. "Obviously, it would be scary and freak us out, until we got to a point where it's like, f--- this," Joe concluded. "And probably at the time we were like, 'frick this.' Because we were like, 'We can figure out who we are on our own terms.'"
Read the original article on Entertainment Weekly
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


The Hill
3 hours ago
- The Hill
‘South Park' vs. Trump: And the little children shall lead them
What does it say about America that the only people taking on President Trump on his own terms — which is to say, in the gutter — are two bad-boy cartoonists? In its 27th season opener this week, titled 'The Sermon on the Mount,' the Paramount Plus animated show 'South Park' provided by far the most comprehensive and trenchant critique of Trump's first six months back in office. The episode, which includes both Jesus and Satan as characters, brutally and hilariously takes on Trump's laundry list of fixations: NPR, bathrooms, electric cars, returning Christianity to public schools, tariffs, 'wokeness,' '60 Minutes' and Stephen Colbert. Characters also denounce Trump for looting the country for personal benefit ('putting money in his own pockets') and ruling through fear and lawsuits. In its first return volley after viewing advanced episode clips, White House spokesperson Taylor Rogers dismissed 'South Park' as a 'fourth-rate show' that 'hasn't been relevant for over 20 years and is hanging on by a thread.' Series creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone replied to the criticism with typical puckishness. On Thursday, appearing on an animation panel at Comic-Con in San Diego, Parker was asked his reaction to the controversy. 'We're terribly sorry,' he deadpanned. If past experience holds, we may hear more about this from the nation's number one amateur TV critic (and slashing Queens street-fighter), and it won't likely be pretty. On Thursday, after 250 days of suspicious foot-dragging, the Federal Communications Commission voted 2 to 1 to approve the $8 billion merger of Skydance Media and Paramount Global, corporate parent of CBS. Many believed the approval was delayed to force the network into settling Trump's lawsuit against '60 Minutes' for $16 million, litigation which many legal and media figures considered to be without merit. But Parker and Stone have a benefit not afforded to other Trump media critics. Unlike Colbert and 'The Late Show,' their show makes money for Paramount. Just days before the 'South Park' season opener, the pair signed a five-year contract with the studio for $1.5 billion — yes, you read that right, with a 'b' — for 10 episodes per season. The deal may make Parker and Stone bulletproof to any Trump lawsuits. If not, their pockets are at least deep. In fact, factoring in their 'The Book of Mormon' financial behemoth, they may be worth more than Trump himself. As in seasons past, this episode of 'South Park' weaves scatology with eschatology, placing the Christian cosmos at its center, as I have written pr e viously. This episode begins at South Park Elementary School, where the principal had previously embraced diversity, equity and inclusion — which he describes more simply as 'kindness.' Since the November election, he, like so many, has cravenly flipped. At a student assembly, the principal now embraces compelling students to accept Jesus as their personal lord and savior —to the point where Jesus himself comes down from Heaven to make his pitch, even in the lunchroom. At first one parent objects. 'What's Jesus doing in your school?' Randy Marsh asks the principal. Another character asks, 'What the hell is this president doing? He doesn't even act like a Christian.' Without what Trump calls 'wokeness,' student Eric Cartman, a reformed bigot and antisemite, says, 'Everyone hates the Jews. Everyone is fine with using gay slurs. It's terrible. Because,' he says, near tears, 'I don't know what I'm supposed to do.' Jesus cautions Trump's 'South Park' opponents that, as an unhinged, omnipotent megalomaniac, the president 'can do anything he wants to anyone.' 'You really want to end up like Colbert?' Jesus asks at one point. Jesus says he only returned to South Park to warn the townspeople. 'I didn't want to come back to the school, but I had no choice because it was part of a lawsuit and the agreement with Paramount. … The guy can do whatever he wants now that someone backed down. … If someone has the power of the presidency, and also the power to sue and take bribes, then he can do anything to anyone.' Rather than unalloyed outrage at what some would call (and have called) the blasphemous portrayal of Jesus in this and previous 'South Park' episodes, some Christians take a more nuanced view. Veteran speaker and writer Rusty Wright told me, 'As a longtime Jesus-follower, I can appreciate faith-skeptics' criticisms, because I once was one. 'South Park' gets it right in that too many Christians can be pushy, controlling and intolerant. 'South Park's' Jesus portrayal might be more credible if he befriended more of his critics, was less PR-anxious, and expressed confidence in divine ability to bring good from difficult situations.' The cartoon Trump, meanwhile, is literally in bed with Satan, his longtime boyfriend. The devil is so upset with him that he refuses the president sex, saying Trump is beginning to remind him of his previous boyfriend, Saddam Hussein. Satan is also disturbed to learn that Trump has appeared in the Jeffrey Epstein files. When the town of South Park is sued by Trump for $5 billion for opposing the president, they settle for $3.5 million, but with the added requirement of producing 50 public service announcements extolling the president's virtues. The first one … well, let's just say it doesn't help his cause. There may be an actual political dimension to the episode. The show's key demographic is young males, precisely the cohort that has been drifting toward Trump. If they are persuaded by the episode that Trump is a tyrannical buffoon and a fair target for ridicule, that may affect their next trip to the polls. Mark I. Pinsky is the author of 'The Gospel According to The Simpsons' and has written extensively about the intersection of religion, popular culture and politics.


Washington Post
3 hours ago
- Washington Post
‘Pan' is funny, insightful and a little unhinged
On the face of it, Michael Clune's 'Pan' appears to traverse rather straightforward territory. At the dawn of the 1990s, a teenage boy in a Midwestern suburb is sent to live with his father after his parents' divorce. He begins to suffer panic attacks. He meets new friends, starts experimenting with drugs in a secluded hayloft he and those friends refer to as 'the barn,' and … well, to describe it any further in those terms would be a complete violation of what 'Pan' is actually about. Clune's vision here is essentially religious, and I don't mean religious in the way that Flannery O'Connor was a Catholic writer or Isaac Bashevis Singer was a Jewish one. I mean, rather, that 'Pan' is saturated with a grand, psychedelic spirit, the sort of holy mania one finds in writers like William Blake or Christopher Smart. The effect, to the extent one can refer to it as merely an 'effect,' is dazzling. Clune, a celebrated memoirist, delivers with 'Pan' a debut novel that is at once startlingly funny and radiantly — if here and there a little perplexingly — strange. The prose is colloquial and direct — Clune's narrator, Nick, is 15 and speaks the argot of an ordinary teenager — and yet somehow everywhere Nick's eye alights the world feels like it's being flayed bare. In a classroom, he notes: 'Winter in Illinois, the flesh comes off the bones, what did we need geometry for? We could look at the naked angles of the trees, the circles in the sky at night. At noon we could look at our own faces. All the basic shapes were there, in bone.' It's a mood, and a style, that could easily become exhausting if it were not so perfectly matched not just to Nick's panic attacks but to the mock-heroic register of adolescence in general. Because it is, Nick's encounters with teenage effluvia take on a revelatory intensity: Boston's 'More Than a Feeling' is 'just a quiet glitter of melody, a whisper of rhythm. Like a glass man, striding alongside the car, bones tinkling'; at his after-school job at Ace Hardware, he looks to avoid 'the three stigmata of idleness … the hanging hands, the half-open mouth, the unfocused eyes.' It's tempting to say that nothing much happens in this novel, but for the fact that everything that does happen is charged with so much fearsome grandeur that even the book's micro-movements feel operatic. Whatever 'Pan' might lack in terms of old-fashioned narrative mechanics, it more than makes up for in humor, particularity and what I am forced to refer to simply as meaning. Nick comes to believe that his panic attacks are not merely medical events but rather instances when he is being possessed by the spirit of the Greek god Pan. This rather baroque conceit is not so much a matter of plot — whether he is or isn't ultimately seems beside the point — but it thoroughly destabilizes any attempt to read 'Pan' through a modish lens of mental health or disability. 'Because a panic attack doesn't feel like a panic attack,' Nick observes at one point. 'It feels like insight.' Insight, indeed, is what 'Pan' offers in spades, and part of what makes it so delicious is the way it mulches up both the familiar materials of millennial adolescence ('Gilligan's Island' reruns, crappy after-school jobs, the video game 'Ghosts 'n Goblins') and more esoteric ones ('Ivanhoe,' Giovanni Bellini's painting 'Drunkenness of Noah,' a fantasy novel called 'Nifft the Lean') into something that feels at once semi-typically earthy and decidedly cosmic, at times very nearly unhinged. This quality of insight is what art is for, but it is so rare at this point that 'Pan' feels almost like a work of outsider art. Ultimately, it's not, but the novel's brilliant intensity is such that it grows difficult to describe or boil down to its constituent parts. When Nick's friend Ian unpacks a theory of what he calls 'Solid Mind' ('when your thoughts flow in grooves, built deep into your brain. You don't even notice them') it feels both like the hilarious, weed-addled invention of almost any suburban teenager and like an intense theory of cognitive behavior that might belong to this book alone. It's a doubleness that makes Clune's novel approachable and inviting but also wild enough to seem practically avant-garde. Perhaps that's a quality not all readers will be inclined to prize — 'Pan' might be expressionist enough to disorient a traditional reader yet formalist enough to frustrate an avant-gardist. But for those who wonder if the American novel has anything new to offer (and perhaps for those who, rather tediously, have chosen lately to litigate the question of whether novels have abandoned male experience and male readers), 'Pan' is exhilarating, a pure joy — and a sheer, nerve-curdling terror — from end to end. Matthew Specktor is the author, most recently, of 'The Golden Hour.'
Yahoo
15 hours ago
- Yahoo
Sarah Chalke reveals her wish for upcoming 'Scrubs' revival: 'I don't know how that works into the storyline'
The actress, who played Dr. Elliot Reid on the medical sitcom, shared her dream plot point for the revival while visiting EW's video suite with her "Rick and Morty" costars at San Diego Comic-Con. This potential Scrubs storyline is just what the doctor ordered. No, literally. Sarah Chalke, who starred as Dr. Elliot Reid across all nine seasons of the celebrated medical sitcom, is sharing the toe-tapping plot point that she'd love to see included in the show's forthcoming reboot.'I can't tease any plot details because I don't know any because it's all so new," Chalke explains while visiting Entertainment Weekly's San Diego Comic-Con video suite for Rick and Morty. "Someone just asked me if I have any requests for the plots and I just said, 'Flash mob. I wanna be in the flash mob.' So, I don't know how that works into the storyline, but I think there's a way." After hearing Chalke's dream storyline, her Rick and Morty costars — Chris Parnell, Ian Cardoni, Harry Belden, and Spencer Grammer — immediately jump up from their seats and begin busting a move. "You wanted a flash mob?" Parnell, who plays Jerry, jokes. "Here we go, guys." But, in true Rick and Morty fashion, the well-intentioned gesture quickly goes off the rails. "No, that's not how we practiced it, you guys!" Belden shouts. "It was step left, then turn. Alright. Alright. Cut! Let's go again!" Still, Chalke can't help but be charmed by their efforts. "Not the flash mob I was dreaming of," she teases, before turning back to her costars. "You guys are trying to make my dreams come true? This is why I love all of them so much." Earlier this month, Entertainment Weekly confirmed that Chalke and fellow Scrubs alum Donald Faison, who played Dr. Christopher Turk, would be joining Zach Braff in the upcoming revival. Chalkecelebrated the news on Instagram by posting a throwback photo of her, Braff, and Faison with the caption: "YAY!!!!" In addition to the trio, original series creator Bill Lawrence is also scrubbing in as an executive producer on the revival. "Scrubs means so very much to me," he said in a statement. "So excited for the chance to get the band back together." An official logline for the series reveals that it will follow Braff's J.D. and Faison's Turk as they "scrub in together for the first time in a long time," adding, "medicine has changed, interns have changed, but their bromance has stood the test of time. Characters new and old navigate the waters of Sacred Heart with laughter, heart and some surprises along the way." The original Scrubs, which ran from 2001 until 2010, followed the trials and tribulations of J.D. and his pals as they worked at the fictional Sacred Heart Hospital. Watch EW's Comic-Con livestream the original article on Entertainment Weekly