The Color and The Race.

Barack Obama is NOT a Black man. Nor will he be the first Black president. He is biracial. His mother is white. His father Black.

Tiger Woods is NOT a Black man. Nor is he the greatest Black golfer in the history of the game. His mother is Thai. His father biracially Black and white.

Halle Berry is NOT a Black woman. Nor is she the first Black woman to win an Oscar for ‘Best Actress’. Her mother is white. Her father Black.

Mariah Carey is NOT a Black woman. She is insane.

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There are numerous examples of other multi-ethnic folks out there who tend to take on their minority ethnicity as the sum whole of their being, either voluntarily or not. We are, as a society, divisive by nature. We like to put anyone or anything that is even remotely different into their own special little box. We say that we’re doing so as a way of ‘celebrating our differences’.

Really?

I used the examples of Obama, Woods, and Berry to demonstrate the validity of my next point. Shortly after the good ol’ slave days, a friendly term was created to handle any pesky confusion that may arise between Blacks and whites. It was called “the one drop rule”. It suggested that even a single drop of ‘negro’ blood in one’s veins renders them Black.

Actually, the logic applies to all non-white races, but is mostly applied to Blacks. A biracially Chinese and white person is more likely to be called “part Asian”, for example. A biracially Black and white person is usually simply ‘Black’, or refered to as the lovely ‘mulatto‘ – derived from spanish, meaning ‘young mule’. It originates from Spanish slave traders who considered biracial slaves useless. Good times.

When a presidential candidate’s ethnicity takes more precedence over the current two term president’s C Student grades, AWOL status, cocaine abusing days, and failed business ventures, it goes to show just how screwed up the world really is.

I look forward to the day when Barack and Woods are simply men, and Berry and Carey are simply women. Need we really say more?

(I really think that Carey IS insane though.)

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Published in: on March 18, 2008 at 12:15 pm  Leave a Comment  

My definition of a “bitch”.

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(And I’m using the word “bitch” in the gangsta sense, which means male OR female.)You may read the full story here if you wish, but if you ask me, my summary is far more entertaining.

Basically, this dude thought it would be the height of genius if he proposed to his girlfriend by placing the engagement ring into a helium filled balloon. The object was for her to literally ‘pop’ the balloon as he ‘popped’ the question.

Pretty smart, huh?

Instead, a gust of wind snatched the balloon into the heavens, leaving our hero empty-handed.

The intended was less than impressed, demanding that he replace the now departed ring with another. Problem was, he’d blown $12,000 on the first one, leaving him broke. This imbecile tried, in vain, to follow the ring-carrying balloon’s flight path, but eventually gave up.

She is now refusing to speak to him until he replaces the ring.

I say, dude, cut your losses and leave her.

Let’s review. Dude attempts to propose to this hag in an original – if stupid – way. She, failing to appreciate this, demands that he produce blood from a stone. He is hoping the ring still turns up, adding, “It would be amazing if someone found it.”

No, it would be amazing if people like you found a backbone and put jerks in their place. To be fair, however, my guess is that this guy is probably a bit of a f***-up to start with. It’s entirely possible that this is not the first idiotic thing he’s done, hence her less than kind reaction.

After all, any other caring woman would be mortified to know that her man spent a large fraction of his annual income on her engagement ring, only to lose it under such tragic circumstances.

This brings me to why I agree with Pamela Anderson’s choice of engagement ring: the tattooed variety. Ah, NOTHING says “Forever” quite like the tattooed ring. No worries about misplacement by drunken best men or freakish gusts of wind.

And best of all, you KNOW that the marriage will last forever!

PS: Speaking of “Can’t Buy Me Love”, looks like Heather Mills managed to milk ex-Beatle bonehead Paul “We Don’t Need A Pre-Nup” McCartney out of some $40 million CDN. Clearing those landmines must cost her a fortune…

Published in: on March 17, 2008 at 8:23 am  Comments (1)  

Lindsay Lohan tries to channel Marilyn Monroe…

slideshow_btnc.jpgAnd fails miserably.
Yes, Lindsay has nice breasts. And to be honest, I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for freckles.

My problem is with the photographer’s choice of shots to mimic. This dude shot Marilyn in the nude. THE NUDE. One would guess that he had a pretty good idea of what her curves looked like. Seeing how, erm, ‘different’ Lohan’s body is from MM’s, why would he choose to mimic this pic?

Or this one?

Or even this one?

Marilyn’s body was the epitome of what a woman’s body should look like. Curvy. Natural. Among most of today’s young Hollywood, having large breasts – at any price – is enough. This photo shoot proves it.

When the rest of your body resembles that of a nine year old Chinese boy from the waist down, maybe Marilyn is not the ‘icon’ you should be trying to channel. On the other hand, ‘straight up, straight down’ seems to be what the general North American public seem to want today.

Well, except for blacks and hispanics, of course! (We will worship curves until the end of time.)

Hell, maybe I’m part of the problem by saying what I AM saying about LL’s body. I make no apologies for wanting women to accept who they are though. It’s the anorexic ‘role models’ I pass judgement on. (Shame on you!)

Most women don’t – nor should they – have Marilyn’s 36D breasts. But neither should they be starving themselves to resemble a certain hotel heiress’s body either. Marilyn probably had more than 30% body fat, but she’s considered the ultimate in beauty among most women.

How bizarre, in an era of weight loss gimics and obsessive dieting.

What a difference a couple of generations make, hm?

The Power Of The Hoax

You ever get one of those chain letter emails that tugs at your heart?

They usually involve a dying or seriously ill child, but close with some kind of odd request, like “If you want to make this child smile, forward this to as many people as possible…”.

Next thing you know, you’re actually doing it. You feel that if you DON’T, you don’t really deserve to live.

All of these hoaxes point to the same, lonely losers who originated them.

But don’t take MY word for it. There are a number of websites devoted to debunking these kinds of emails. The two best are:

http://www.sophos.com/security/hoaxes/

http://www.snopes.com

Should you receive such an email, do yourself a favor before forwarding it on to someone else: go to those sites and type in a related search query, or copy and paste a couple of sentences from the email in question, put it in quotations, and do a Google search.

(Copy and paste different lines, though. Not only one. Sometimes the message gets slightly skewed as it travels from person to person.)

I hope this made some sense. I’m really bloody tired…

Published in: on February 10, 2008 at 3:43 pm  Leave a Comment  

“STRIPPERS” vs “DANCERS”

A woman I was recently chatting with mentioned how her friend makes SO much money as a dancer. Naturally, I asked her which club her friend worked at, to which she snapped “She’s not a STRIPPER, I said she’s a DANCER!”

Great. I’m guilty of committing the same sin so many others do: referring to ’strippers’ as ‘dancers’.

Once upon a time, strippers were commonly called ‘exotic dancers’.

Somewhere along the way, someone – possibly strippers themselves – decided to refer to them simply as ‘dancers’, removing the word ‘exotic’ from the description. And ‘real’ dancers everywhere were furious.

I realise that a girl’s gotta eat and all, but for God’s sake learn the difference between what you ARE and what you DO. You are a STRIPPER who happens to DANCE. This does not a dancer make.

A dancer is usually someone who has invested a fair amount of time perfecting their craft, getting to know the limitations of their bodies, etc.

A stripper is usually someone who has invested a fair amount of time perfecting the fine art of balancing herself on a pole, gyrating, and dancing badly to music by Vanity 6 or Whitesnake.

I’m not saying that there aren’t any GOOD strippers out there. But just stop calling yourselves ‘dancers’. To me, it would be like a dude who goes around calling himself a doctor just because he works for ‘Rug Doctor’…

The Sad Road To Immortality.

There was an art piece that I’d seen a couple of years back or so. It was a collection of images of dead celebrities, all youngish. Che Guevara was in one. So were Marilyn and James Dean. Of course, Elvis was tossed into the mix as well. If memory serves me correctly, the title of it was “I’m Dead, But At Least I Kept My Good Looks”.

It was meant as a commentary on the cult of celebrity and how huge a part it plays in our every day lives. Even during times of war, famine, you name it. While these folks have long left us, their celebrity lives on and will continue to throughout time. We need them, after all. They remind us of what we could become if we really put our minds to it.

Of course, we would do it all so much differently. We would ‘keep it real’, making sure that our friends would still be our friends. Yeah, we may go to the occasional party/awards show/premiere, but we’d be far more careful about who we’re seen with. And as for the paparazzi, are you kidding me? We’d NEVER let things get that crazy! Yes, we’d still be the normal, everyday people we’ve always been.

With that, we pick up the celebrity gossip rags and proceed to gawk at so-and-so’s HUGE ass, such-and-such’s AWFUL dress/haircut, and what’s-her-name’s bizarre antics following the latest child visitation ruling against her. “If I had that kind of cash, I’d have my own island to retreat to. George Cloony did it! So did Johnny Depp! Why can’t they?!”

For some reason, we choose to forget that these people were probably also “normal, everyday people” at one time. Life just happened to hit them at 300 km/second. A life they may not have been ready for. Some people have better coping skills than others.

You cried over a parking ticket you got.

They cried over not being able to step out of the house without being followed by 25 photographers. Every hour. Every day.

“They can always quit if they don’t like it! Tons of people would DIE to be in their place!” Maybe. And perhaps that’s why some choose to ‘quit’ the easy way.

Take one talented young man, for example, who don’t vie for the limelight. He didn’t make regular appearances at awards shows, nor was he tabloid fodder. From all accounts, he did his best to keep his young family life as private as possible. It looks like his death was accidental, but I still feel for his daughter, about whom he had this to say in his final interview:

“I feel good about dying because I feel alive through her.”

RIP Heath Ledger.

Published in: on January 23, 2008 at 6:09 am  Leave a Comment  

Politics + Musician/Actor Support = Disaster

Today, I read that Arcade Fire’s Win Butler is staunchly supporting Barack Obama in the next US election. As much as I love his band, I’m BEGGING musicians and actors to please, PLEASE stay out of this year’s elections.

Especially given the results of the last one.I’m not going to get into whom I support this time round, but I will admit that I’m glad that we (ie: the world) will finally be rid of Baby Bush. The global damage that has been done during his reign will take considerably longer to repair, but these things take time.

Back to the topic at hand, I believe that Bush was voted back in partially because of the number of pompous musicians and actors who’d jumped on the Kerry bandwagon. Kerry – a man who has less personality than a cigar store ‘Indian’ – somehow garnered the respect and adoration of many of Hollywood’s and the music scene’s intellectual midgets.

While Baby Bush’s message was incredibly clear (“No gay marriage! No free speech! No need for logic as a US president!”), Kerry’s was extremely vague. Compound that with the celebs who supported him and the combo made little to no sense. If anything, their support ultimately alienated many in the ‘undecided’ camp.

Listen: I’m all for rocking the vote and all that. But there’s a difference between rallying for support and simply showing up for the party. Regrettably, too many young American voters – the demographic that could’ve gotten Baby Bush out of office – chose the latter of the two options. Then slept in on voting day. Bravo.

(Ever notice how few ‘anti-war protests take place before 9 AM? Friggin’ hippy morons…)

Anyway, that’s really all I wanted to say. Let’s put the focus back where it belongs: onto the actual candidates. After all, since when have politicians had anything to do with showmanship?…

PS: I think that Hilary Clinton is a creepy, creepy robot. And speaking of Hilary, I recently heard a joke about how it’ll be the first time she’s slept in the President’s bed if she wins this election.

The end.

Published in: on January 17, 2008 at 3:48 am  Comments (1)  

Did you hear? Jennifer Love Hewitt’s proud of her body!

And she even volunteered at a shelter this Christmas!

(Guess she was too busy during the remaining 364 days of the year…)

YAY! You’re relevant again, Jen!

To those of you who know not of what I speak, here’s the summary: “The Other ‘J-Lo'” was recently photographed on the beach, revealing a different body from what most of us are used to seeing. Her lower half was not only larger than we’re used to seeing, but (*GASP!*) patches of cellulite are even visible, too!

In response, JLH has hit out at critics of her currently humanoid shape, saying that she “loves” her body right now and has no problem with it. She’s also lamented the damage that this backlash will have on young girls out there who either have or are considering having body image issues. “For shame!”, she says. And rightfully so!

Kinda.

I think it’s awesome that she’s taking the stand that she is. Young girls and women in general need to be reminded of how beautiful they are, as is. It’s not necessary for you to buy the fake boobs, get the rinoplasty, or hunt for the cellulite creams. So, for that I’ll say Good on ya, Jess, but why now? Especially when you’ve become as irrelevant as you have?

See, it would’ve been one thing if you’d taken this stance about 6 years ago, back in your ‘prime’. But why now, when you have so little to lose? I mean, what other stance could you have taken now?

It reminds me of when George Michael got popped for ‘lewd acts’ in that toilet, ultimately ‘outing’ him. (Because none of us already knew he was gay.) Suddenly, he became a champion of gay rights causes and campaigns everywhere. He even boasted, “I’m mostly surprised that people didn’t realize it sooner!” Silly us, George. You got us on that one.

Then there’s Katherine Heigl of “Grey’s Anatomy” fame. After starring in the hugely successful “Knocked Up”, she recently told Vanity Fair how she felt that it was a ‘sexist’ movie; how “It paints the women as shrews, as humorless and uptight and it paints the men as lovable, goofy, fun-loving guys… It was hard for me to love the movie.”

Wow. Touching stuff, Katherine. Of course, you probably didn’t find the movie’s success too ‘hard’ to deal with once her salary went up from $300,000 to $6,000,000 per film. No, the important thing is that you spoke her mind after the fact. You go, girl…

Yes, JLH is suddenly relevant again. All thanks to an ugly attack that she wisely spun in her own favor. You may ask what the harm is if even one person is positively affected by JLH’s response to all of this. Honestly, there is no harm at all. On the other hand, had she decided to dismiss her slimmer figure whilst she was still at her peak, I would probably be considerably less dismissive of her proselytizing than I am now.

As for the remaining young, ‘flawless’ starlets out there (who are most likely binging and purging as we speak), know this: you can look forward to my commentary that will follow your inevitable dismissal of the Machine that put you where you are in the first place. Once they’ve tired of you first, of course.

Oh, and for the record, I LOVE JLH’s body now.

Published in: on December 30, 2007 at 4:32 am  Leave a Comment  

When you wish upon a star…

“MOOBY SAY RELAX!”

“The problem with being a star is that anyone CAN be, but not everyone SHOULD be…”

When we were teenagers, my friends and I would sit, listerning to our favorite bands for hours. Sometimes we’d watch their videos, imagining what it would be like to be in their shoes – singing songs we wrote while an enchanted world watched and listened. I would go to sleep, wishing for the day when the limitations of funds/technology and the barriers created by A&R folks would be a thing non-existent. In other words, a day when anybody could become a star.

“Be careful of what you wish for…”

This 21st century has ushered in the era of my wildest teen-aged dreams. But it’s also created a kind of nightmare that I’d never imagined could exist.

In an age of YouTube stars demanding that we “Leave Britney Alone!” while wiping away tears of mascara (along with any hint of self-respect), spectacle is king. Or queen, as in the case of certain fraudulent “LonelyGirl”. Girls have gone wild while boys proudly exhibit their inner jackass. Their logic asks, “Is it possible for me to get noticed AND taken seriously while pretending to be something I’m not?” People – mostly, but not limited to the young – don’t seem to care about being artists, per se. They want to become what they believe art is.

That is to say, they want to become something stared at, pondered upon, desired, loved or even hated. Art has become ‘the art of the con’. Whatever it takes to elevate these few to that point of apotheosis that they’ll never attain. At least, not in the way that they hope to. See, just like any other god, once one becomes one, they never really accept or realise that they have yet.

This is because it doesn’t feel anything like what they thought it would. Sometimes it’s more draining, other times it’s simply boring. But most of the time, one wants to have more. These are the times when our gods are found dead of an overdose. Or without underwear. The result? Hotel heiresses who are famous for nothing, and slickly-produced television that poses for ‘reality’. (Whatever THAT is anymore! When was the last time you felt ‘real’ in front of a video camera?)

Here’s the saddest part – no matter when this technology would’ve been created, the sad truth is that the results would’ve been exactly the same. With this in mind, I suppose there’s something to be said about having controls in place, limiting just who ends up becoming a star. There’s something kinda liberating about hiding some aspects of art. Who truly wants to know how the coolest magic tricks are done?

One thing that I’m definitely certain of is this: I’m glad that YouTube didn’t exist when I was a teen. God only knows how much of a jackass I would’ve willingly made of myself…

Published in: on October 11, 2007 at 9:22 am  Leave a Comment  
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The Passion of the Idiot…

So I’m on the bus a while ago, heading to my buddy’s birthday dinner. The thing is packed like the proverbial can of sardines, there’s the token wacko bitching about the increasing fares, and then there was the frightening slum-village b.o. (I cringe at the recollection…)

Anyway, these two ’emo’ types hop on a couple of stops later. One pays her fare and moves on. But the other – an elfin little thing, no taller than 4’10” – decides that she’s gonna ‘make a statement’. She turns to the exhausted driver – the bus was hot as hell – and takes out her bus pass, muttering the words “Heil Hitler!”. Then, after excusing herself past me, elf tosses her friend a self-satisfied grin.

See, that kind of thing kinda bugs me. When people toss words like “nazi” or “slave” around, identifying it with themselves or their lame causes. I don’t think it’s particularly gutsy or witty when people do that. To me, it’s a bright red mark of ignorance. So I did what I do best – I called her on it. Live and in stereo.

I asked, “Excuse me. What did you just say to the driver when you showed him your pass?”

Let me tell ya – the look of horror on her face was worth the fare alone? Priceless. She managed to stammer, “What?”

So I asked again, “I was just wondering what you said to the driver? Something about Hitler?”

She turned to her equally shocked friend for help. The friend immediately lied, “All she said was ‘excuse me’, dude!” But I calmly said, “No, I’m referring to what she said to the DRIVER. Not to ME.”

The friend insisted that neither of them had said anything, and with that, they pushed their way to the back of the bus through the crowd. (No doubt to be with the other ‘rebels’ back there.)

Pathetic. Gutless. The driver rolled his eyes and smiled. Mission accomplished.

The sad part is that this kinda thing isn’t limited to younger people. There’s no shortage of others of all ages out there who feel justified in their ignorance – until you call them on it.

Here’s my thing. There’s nothing heroic about belittling a city worker on behalf of your misguided protest against Transit. The guy probably had his own problems to deal with. The same goes for people who refer to cops as ‘pigs’, but are thankful as hell when these same ‘pigs’ show up after their friend/loved was raped or their house got broken into.

Are there some cops who suck? Of course! Are there some bus drivers who suck? Definitely! (Hell, I’ll even say MOST do! Sorry guys. But some of you really need to work on your PR skills…) Referring to these people as “Hitler” – a guy who was partially responsible for some pretty shitty things – is so moronic.

Not only that, but if you’re GONNA say stupid shit like that, at least back your shit up.

Sad. Lame. Pathetic.

Published in: on October 9, 2007 at 7:44 am  Leave a Comment