Owlet : The World From Where I'm Perched

Need I Remind You That It's 2010?

2010-08-02T11:48:00.000-07:00

Need I remind you that the year is 2010? It's not 1952, it's not 1950-anything. It's 2010. So why do cleaning commercials--all of them--use the same visual material as was used in the 1950's? The beautiful women we see in commercials today, who are so rabid to get the stains out of their husbands' shirts and ties, who are so accommodating of the disastrous messes made by their lawless children, look and behave almost identically to their more-than-half-a-century-ago counterparts. The same placid smile, the same trim figure, the same cheerfully-exasperated shake of the head as her husband comes in with a new domestic clean-up job (him shrugging in a dopey way, grinning sheepishly), or as her children stampede through her sparkling living room in full soccer gear, covered with mud. The only thing that's changed is the wardrobe. ("Moms" in commercials don't wear dresses anymore after all--that would be too obvious.)

This is a problem. For so many reasons.

Most are obvious, and I will skim through them. The main problem here is the fact that, in the year 2010, women are still considered synonymous with domesticity. Despite the fact that the numbers of stay-at-home-dads and career-women are higher than ever before, Clorox and company still want us to think that women are queen of one thing only....the domicile.

Also, to bat for the men, it implies that men are utterly incapable of taking care of themselves. This implication is a double-edged sword: it skewers women by placing them in the eternal role of caretaker and mother (even to their husbands), and it characterizes men as little more than big, dumb, dirty babies. Lose-lose, right?

Additionally, these commercials are problematic in the way that they not only characterize women's roles, but women's behavior. Some (me) would call this hegemonic, but I'll keep it simple since I said I'd skim. This characterization of housewives (aka women as a whole) presents women as passive, placid, emotionless fembots who exist only to clean up after their husbands and children. It provides an illusion of power--the "super-mom" motif, you know what I'm talking about: super-mom coming to the "rescue" of her kitchen counter with the help of Brawny paper towels (her male leader....sorry, had to say it)--while also implying that the only place where women are powerful is the home.

But that's all obvious. Or it should be. The real reason these cleaning commercials and their stark similarity to 1950's commercials are so problematic is this:

If any other group of people--Blacks, Jews, Latinos, etc.--were subject to the same representation in the media as they were 60 years ago, there would be public outcry. The racist (that is, blatantly racist, because we all know most commercials depicting minorities often still have racially offensive elements) depiction of Black people, for example, has been forced to shift out of social necessity. It is unacceptable for commercials to depict Blacks using stereotypical language, dressed in stereotypical garb, etc.

Long story short, if any group were depicted now, in 2010, as they were in 1950, there would be a outcry, bans, boycotts. Yet in today's commercials, women are shown delivering almost identical lines with almost identical facial expressions, performing identical tasks, as they were in commercials 60 years ago. And I rarely hear a peep. The neglect of the stereotyping of women in America is an outrage: it shows not only a lack of awareness of female issues, but a lack of concern.

To quote a friend of mine, a college student named Julia: "They might as well just cut their costs and start showing commercials from the 50s and 60s. It's the same godd**m thing."

Skinny Girl Jogging

2010-07-12T09:03:00.001-07:00

From my desk at my job--I am the concierge at an upscale shopping center--I witness insane amounts of absurdity on a daily basis. Whether it be here by my desk, or outside the revolving doors directly in front of me...I see and hear it all.

Today's outrageousness came in the form of a skinny-beyond-all-reason blonde young woman jogging on Michigan Avenue. Anyone who knows Chicago knows that Michigan Avenue is generally crowded any time of day: the tourists like to start early, and the wealthy people who live in the neighborhood have nothing better to do than get a prompt daily start on spending their money. So, in a nutshell.....not the best place to go for a long, uninterrupted jog. After all, the Lake path is just two blocks away: a long empty stretch populated with joggers like herself and bikers looking for solitude.

But Blondie didn't want isolation. I mean, if she was on the quiet jogging path by the lake, who would be there to witness her so-small-it's-almost-imaginary jogging outfit? Who would admire her expertly applied make-up? Who would notice her perfectly styled hair? No one: the other joggers are too busy actually jogging.

So Blondie came downtown to jog in her idea of paradise: in her fantasy, she is jogging down Michigan Avenue on her rail-thin legs, her abs (and ribs) clearly visible as she passes awestruck bystanders who are literally rendered speechless by her platinum blonde beauty.

But, wait, what's this? As Blondie glides along, her fantasy is interrupted by a sloppy, un-make-upped, unstyled, untoned hippopotamus, who, to the normal, un-blonde eye, is just your average 140lb Chicago woman walking with her boyfriend. The hippopotamus has come out of a store and is---gasp---in Blondie's way! Blondie is forced to perform an awkward side-step to avoid coming in contact with the hippopotamus, which interrupts her daydream of supermodeldom, causing her to spiral back to Earth with the unpleasant reality that sorry, kid, no one really cares about your almost-invisible designer jogging clothes or your flawless make-up, and especially not about your protruding clavicles and ribs.

This undesired collision with the real world hit Blondie hard, and in response she threw her hands up and cried, "Fat whore!" to the 140lb obstruction before attempting to regain her composure and withdraw back into her delusions. But the hippopotamus wasn't havin' it.

"Bony bitch!" she laughed.

Blondie is no longer Blondie. She is Bony Bitch. Another blow to her emaciated imaginings.

Who knows what happened next. It occurred outside of the little frame of the glass doors in front of me. But it was hilarious. And ridiculous. And also kind of sad.

Racism Today

2010-06-20T12:57:00.001-07:00

Yesterday after leaving work, my boyfriend and I went to Chipotle--for those of you that don't know, Chipotle is a restaurant that serves Americanized Mexican food, and could probably be considered a fresher, somewhat healthier version of Taco Bell--where we stood in line to order burritos. While in line, I observed an encounter that exemplified the subtle way in which racism is operating in America.

An older white man--probably in his late 60's--carried a tray of food, heading to the back of the restaurant. A younger Latino man--probably in his mid-30's--was walking toward the front, carrying an empty cup in each hand. As they neared one another, the white man stopped the Latino man and said the following, very politely:

"Excuse me, but you're out of straws up front."

The Latino man didn't seem to hear him and just nodded, and moved on, but stopped after a step or two it registered and he turned around with his mouth open, but the white guy had already gotten to his table and was sitting down. The Latino guy looked conflicted, then just shook his head with a look on his face that said, "What do you do?"

Now, the white man meant no conscious disrespect. But does this nullify the offensive assumption behind his words? The Latino guy with the cups--who was there eating with his wife and two children--would probably say no, it does not. I would say no, it does not. But the white man would say otherwise: in his mind it is probably reasonable that an Hispanic male walking through a Mexican restaurant (albeit imitation) is an employee.

But his reasoning has holes. Big ones. The Latino guy was not wearing an apron or a beige Chipotle shirt or a chef's hat, all the things a person who I would consider reasonable would use as clues for identifying a serviceperson. The guy was wearing a black and white pinstripe collared shirt. But the logic used by the older man was much simpler--or should I say more base--and required much less thought. The only sign he needed was the younger man's apparent ethnicity: brown skin, walking through a Mexican restaurant. In his mind, this alone signifies servitude.

This is an example of one of the many ways racism operates in America in the 21st century. These are the subtle sleights and mistakes and assumptions that are enough to ruin someone's day. So many excuses can be made for them, a practice which I vehemently denounce.

"Well," one such excuser might say, "it's not like he called him a wetback! It was just a mistake!" But this is the type of logic that infuriates me nearly as much as the "mistake" itself.

The "mistake" is never just a mistake: there are seldom coincidences in racial rhetoric. By mistakenly assuming that the Latino man crossing the restaurant--no matter how nicely he was dressed--was a serviceperson, the older man reveals that his belief is that one's apparent ethnicity is enough to automatically categorize him/her as "the help."

We have a reached a point in American society where, no, black people are not being lynched and racial slurs aren't being screamed from vehicles at Latinos--oh wait, yes they are: read here--but racism clings doggedly on to the mentalities and perceptions of many Americans.

We cannot excuse this behavior. Subtle racism is the hardest to combat due to its unspecific nature, but when it can be caught, it must be dealt with. We choose our battles, but how about we start choosing more?

Here's your straw, sir.

One of the (Many) Problems With Today's Music

2010-06-17T18:08:00.000-07:00

Here is a small example of what is wrong with today's music. And today's world, I suppose.

On BET's website's homepage, there are links to various things: music, videos, articles, etc. One of the links says "Love Songs." I clicked on "Love Songs."

It led me to a page that is entitled "Baby Making Music."

Um...no, actually, I was looking for love songs.

BET--and I'm not leaving anyone out: MTV, general media, commercials, etc.--is consistently attempting to convince us that love and sex are synonymous. "No one will notice," the thought process goes, "if we have a link that says 'love songs' leading to a page called 'baby-making music.'" And they're right: most people won't notice. But those of us that are paying attention, those of us that do notice are picking up a disturbing trend.

No wonder teenage girls are getting pregnant left and right. No wonder STDs and HIV/AIDS are at an all time high. We are being berated daily with the message that sex does not matter, it is an act that carries no meaning. Similarly, the message whispers that the act of childbirth ("baby-making") carries no meaning. Love, sex....it's all the same.

But that's a whole different argument. What I want to focus on is the simple link between "Love Songs" and "Baby-Making Music." This, simply, is propaganda. Actually, hegemony might be more appropriate. Yes, hegemony. BET.com (and thus BET) is hegemonically influencing its surfers views on what love is and what love songs should consist of.

It wasn't always sex. And it doesn't always have to be. This is getting really old.

Propaganda, Propaganda

2010-06-13T07:36:00.001-07:00

Today I went to Yahoo!'s homepage to check my email. At the center of the screen, as usual, was some attention-catching headline with a little picture. The subject of the article that the headline links to is ordinarily inane crap, or some recycled story taken from the Associated Press or other news source. The writers of these little blurbs shouldn't even call themselves writers. There are always misspellings, personal opinions, and things that just don't make sense. Which is irritating.

But most irritating, I have found, are their tops 10 and 20 lists of things people should or shouldn't do. If only I had been logging these lists, I could make my own little list: a top 10 list of the ridiculous, propaganda-riddled lists of Yahoo!News. But I haven't started yet, so I will just use a headline that was on their homepage today: 20 Things You Should Never Buy Used.

I will give the list here, minus the asinine paragraph explaining why we should never buy these items used, but here's the link should you wish to numb your brain. Here's the list, in order:

Cribs and children's furniture, car seats, bicycle helmets, tires, laptops, software, plasma and HDTVs, DVD players, digital and video cameras, speakers and microphones, camera lenses, photo light bulbs, mattresses and bedding, swimsuits and undergarments, wetsuits, shoes, hats, make-up, pet supplies, and vacuum cleaners.

So, in summation, basically everything. You shouldn't buy anything used. I can think of things that aren't on this list, of course, but from where I'm sitting, everything that people are currently buying or are interested in buying or are told they should be interested in buying, or things that everyone buys at some point--shoes? a crib?--should never be purchased used. (I only agree with not buying a used mattress or a bathing suit/undergarments.)

The author (in their asinine little paragraph) gives a cautionary and concerned explanation for each item that will subtly frighten those easily-influenced Americans who have fled to their homes because of swine flu, etc. Those same Americans print out that list, tape it to their fridge, and run off to various corporations to purchase spanking new this's-and-that's, breathing a sigh or relief as they close the door behind their bomb shelter, "Whew...now that I have this brand new HDTV...I am safe."

What a mess. Does the author get a bonus? Oh wait, the article doesn't even have an author. No name! Just "US News." Hmm. Problematic. Because to me, that translates as: Once Corporation Getting Paid By Another Corporation To Do Some Fear Mongering While Also Insuring That Consumers Keep Buying New Stuff (aka Keep Fattening Fat Cats Wallets), Keep Throwing Away Their Old Stuff, and Stop Buying Stuff From Their Peers.

Even better is the language used in the article: risk, risky, safety, severely, hazard, "Putting your safety at risk for the sake of saving a few bucks just doesn't add up," "you can't," "you don't," compromised, damage, "mold, mites, bacteria, bodily fluids," health problems, cringe-worthy, contagions, "just say no."

"Scary."

Heidi Montag Needs to "Get Away From the Lies"

2010-06-02T13:52:00.000-07:00

This will be short. Heidi Montag--plastic princess who recently underwent 10 cosmetic surgeries in one day--has split from her prick-of-a-husband Spencer Pratt (perfect name for him) claiming that she "had to get away from the lies" and that "it's time to concentrate on [herself]."

Heidi.

Heidi, Heidi, Heidi.

Your entire body is a lie. And all you do is concentrate on yourself.

The end.

Justin Bieber: Blue-Eyed Bummer

2010-05-23T13:27:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I watched Saturday Night Live for the first time in ages. The guest star of the show was Justin Bieber, the teenage star whose fame has seemingly skyrocketed after being discovered on YouTube in videos of him singing, posted by his mother. Before I was forced (by pop-star-induced nausea) to turn off the television, I witnessed Bieber act in a skit with Tina Fey in which he was a sexy middle schooler the teacher had a crush on before he went on stage to perform one of his brainless songs.

Listening to Justin Bieber speak (let alone sing) is physically painful. His word choice is even worse. In the skit, when he receives his graded homework and sees that he got a C+ he says, "It's aight."

That "aight," that one tiny little word, spoken by tiny 14-year old (or whatever) lips, made me want to boil my brain in scalding hot liquid, then scoop out the remains and feed it to rabid seagulls, who would then fly to Bieber's manager's home and defecate my mangled medula all over his sportscar.

There is so much in the word "aight," and even more in the way it was spoken by this Canadian adolescent. It was so trained, so affected, so....appropriated.

I think what bothers me most about this kid is his adopted authenticity. This boy is white, Canadian, and suburban. The only contact he has had with the word "aight" is through his appropriative contact with BET and trashy movies like "Step Up," in which other white characters appropriate black language and culture to make said language and culture 1) more profitable (easier to sell a white face than a black one), and 2) more easily digested by white audiences, whose tastes are the ones that matter in this market.

In step with this logic is the production of Justin Bieber. As hip-hop becomes more and more mainstream--"pop"ular one might say, "one" being me--the money-hungry music industry sees more and more ways to not only exploit black culture, but to get even richer off that exploitation. Suiting Bieber up with a slew of "hip-hoppy" ballads and a whole new vocabulary--"'Mama,' Justin, not 'mom!'" I can hear his managers correcting--robs actual hip-hop of its authenticity while simultaneously passing little Justin off as a member of that club.

Issuing Justin Bieber with Nikes and forced-sounding slang does not, however, give the kid an automatic "culture-card." Instead, it reveals the racism of the music industry, which believes that a certain brand of shoes and the use of improper grammar encapsulate black culture and the culture of hip-hop.

Bieber and his handlers, though, are not the only ones I charge with these crimes. Kanye West is also on my Most Wanted list, along with Justin Timberlake and others.

That being said, I don't blame Bieber, really, but his handlers. He's a child, after all, and a product. (A product first and a child second, actually.) They, however, are adults and are aware of the implications when they dress Bieber in high top Nikes and instruct him to say "aight" and "mama" instead of "okay" and "mom." The fact that they are aware of the implications, though, feeds right into their abuse of Bieber: they don't care if the kid ends up with an identity crisis and a drinking problem. They'll all be rich.

Common Better Get Out of My Face

2010-05-18T21:36:00.000-07:00

It has been a long, long time. And for that I apologize. But I am back, and I have beef.

I used to love Common. He recorded one of my favorite songs, after all: "The Light" (here). "The Light" is one of the most beautiful songs I know, praising black love, love of women, abstinence, faithfulness, and responsibility. Another great one is "Song for Assata," describing the plight of Assata Shakur, admiring her strength and courage.

But, like Common's honor, my love is gone.

Some of you might remember my rant against Common. It was probably a year ago (I'm sure you can go back and look it up) pertaining to his participation in a collaboration with Kanye West and Kid Cudi in a song charmingly titled "Poke Her Face." It sampled a Lady Gaga beat and hook (which referenced having a poker face) and "cleverly" altered the hook and title to say/read "poke her face."

Cute, right?

No, wait, wait, you need to read some of Common's words from this wonderful song. You need to read them, here:

"But man, her head was gooder than the music
electro body known to blow fuses
A stripper from the south lookin for a payday
I said bitch you should do it for the love like Ray Jay
But they say you be on that conscious tip
Get your hair right and get up on this conscious dick"

If you're a glutton for punishment, go ahead and take a listen here.

This song comes from the man who made a name for himself by claiming to be different than other rappers, by claiming to be more than just a rapper. This song comes from the man who has accepted praise for being a "conscious rapper"--a title which he mocks in this masterpiece with Cudi and West--and has claimed to be concerned about the future of "the people," "the people" being those who he makes his music to inspire.

"Poke Her Face" came out...when? Early 2009? A mere few hundred days is a light year in the music industry, which means that I am not surprised at all that the people who were pissed off about that song have forgotten all about it and are anticipating Common's newest venture: another movie.

Yes, Common is coming out with another movie called Just Wright in which he plays alongside one of the most famous female rappers of all time: Queen Latifah. It is a romance, and in the film Common's character is described as "a sweetie pie." When asked by interviewer Matt Pais of MetroMix how many rappers would be willing to play a role described as such, Common responds:

"I don’t know, man. I think that’s what allows me to know that I’m not just a rapper. Because my mentality was never like, “Hey, OK, you’re a rapper. This is all you are.” And two, as a hip-hop artist, I express my emotions in song. I talk about the light, I talk about being abstinent in songs, and 'Man, this woman is the light of my life.' You don’t hear that a lot in hip hop, that type of expression of love."

When I read that, I realized the Ranting Owl needed to be revived. Somebody (Common) needs a dose of reality that's so thick they choke on it. Call me Doctor Owl. Here's the dose.

Common, you better get out of my face. You better get out of everybody's face. You follow up "The Light" with "Poke Her Face" and you think you deserve to skip that joint and say in an interview that you "talk about the light"? You "talk about being abstinent"? You talk about women being "the light of [your] life?"

Sure you do...no, sure you did. In the year 2000. And don't think I forgot "Heidi Hoe" in '92 but I know that was before you read a couple books, so I was willing to let that go when you made "Like Water For Chocolate." And I'm not saying there weren't some positive songs made after "The Light" but when 2009 rolled around and you made "Poke Her Face".....well, I felt like Heidi all over again.

So I'm about to clown.

How dare you sit across from Queen Latifah in your new movie. If you know anything at all about hip-hop you would know that when you're sitting across from the Queen, you're sitting across from the woman who made one of the most famous feminist rap songs of all time ("U.N.I.TY. Who You Callin' a Bitch?") in which she punched a man "dead in his eye" for calling her the B-word. Did you sign your movie deal before or after "Poke Her Face"? Do you blush when you're sitting across from her? You should be blushing, you should be flushing scarlet to the top of that bald head of yours.

Were you talking to Latifah when you said "get your hair right and get up on this conscious dick?" Was she the "bitch" you were referring to in your verse? Or is that just the rest of us? "Us" who clearly aren't included in "the people" you seek to inspire.

In another interview with NewsBlaze, you were asked if you thought rappers were misrepresented in the media. You said, "Yeah, absolutely. Rap artists tend to be stereotyped in one way, as if they all wear chains, curse, flash money and abuse women." Well, I haven't seen you wear a chain in awhile, and I don't know what you're flashing, but that cursing and abusing women...sounds about right to me. But oh wait, you made a song TEN YEARS AGO (that's roughly 3,650 days) talking about "the light," so naturally you want me to forget that you called me a bitch and told me to give you head, all the while using deplorable grammar ("gooder than the music") just 380 days or so ago.

Not gonna happen.

How dare you reference your "expression of love" and pretend that your numerous expressions of hate do not exist. How dare you continue to set yourself apart from meretricious misogynists like Kanye West and then record a song with him that delights in woman-hating and sexual exploitation. How dare you mock the praise bestowed on you by "the people" and turn it into a cheap verse on a cheap single.

You are disgraceful. You are the epitome of hypocrisy. And I will never buy another one of your records.

I hope Latifah gets a listen of your fabulous West/Cudi collab on set and punches you "right dead in [your] eye." It's less than what you deserve.

Sarah Palin Is Above Reproach

2009-11-16T09:39:00.000-08:00

Sarah Palin, who hopes to secure a nomination for president at some point in her pathetic life, is pissed off at AP for daring to fact-check her book of crap "Going Rogue."

I don't think much needs to be said about this except for the obvious: Palin thinks she's above reproach. Fact check her book?? You mean, actually expose her lies? Wait, wait, wait....you mean actually do research on her claims to see if there's a grain of truth in them? Impossible!

Anyone who has a grain of sense will not buy this book. If you already have...don't ever speak to me again.

Hottest New Accessory: Infants

2009-10-30T21:50:00.000-07:00

Innocently buying paper towels at CVS yesterday, waiting in line, my eye fell across one of the easiest sources of rants: magazines. The headline of People---or something equally worthless---was "Nicole's New Baby."

Okay, this might make sense if this was Nicole Richie's third or fourth child. Had the headline been "Angie's New Baby," I might not have been shocked or incensed or driven to write this blog. But this is Nicole's first child. "New" just seems the wrong word.

One has new shoes; new boobs; a new dog; a new apartment; a new role or job. But a new baby? It's not a scarf, People. It's an infant. I've been aware of the rising trend of what Hollywood disgustingly calls "baby bumps"---I don't think a more irritating word for pregnancy has ever existed; not even "preggers" pisses me off as much as the words "baby" and "bump" used together---but are infants really the new Prada purse?

Seems the best---or at least most media-worthy---thing a woman in Hollywood can do these days (and is it really even "these days," or would the word "always" be more appropriate?) is either take her top off, or get knocked up.

Does this remind anyone of the madonna/whore complex? Mhmm.

I Smell "Masculine" Today

2009-10-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

So today I picked up some deodorant from Target. It's men's Speed Stick: I prefer it to women's because it's harder to find deodorant for women that doesn't include antiperspirant---women have higher anti-sweat standards than men, apparently. I am talking to my boyfriend about what I'm getting at Target. I tell him I'm getting Speed Stick "Ocean Spray" scented deodorant. I look at the back of the stick. There are a list of bullets under Speed Stick Deodorant, little highlights of the product I am planning on purchasing:

-Powerful clear deodorant; leaves no white residue
-Clean masculine scent
-Patented comfort guard and---------

Wait, what?

"Clean masculine scent?" I read that bullet again and hilarity ensues.

What, pray tell, is so masculine about "Ocean Spray"?? Am I missing something? I consider the ocean to be gender neutral because both sexes have been objectified on its beaches for countless Calvin Klein ads: that makes it even, right?

But apparently men have macked the oceanfront in deodorant territory, where women---I started looking at all the scents in the aisle---have monopolized flowers (of course) and precipitation. Oh, and don't forget the word fresh: that's stuck somewhere on the label of almost anything that relates to feminine bath, beauty, and hygiene; a constant reminder of the way American consumerism would like our vaginas to be at all times. Is the bullet "Clean masculine scent" supposed to discourage me from buying men's Speed Stick? Are they hoping that I will read that and say "Omg, no way I want to smell masculine! Everybody knows the ocean smells like a dude! I'm a woman! My femininity depends on smelling like a field of daisies and breeze and sugar!"

Um...no. I'm buying my f-ing Ocean Spray. I'd rather not attract bees and mosquitoes by walking around smelling like a freaking rose all day.

Interesting stuff. Funny how advertising and consumerism thinks it's so subtle and sneaky...dude, why not just post a big sign as you enter the hygiene section saying "Girls smell like flowers. Boys smell like 'swagger' (whatever the f*ck that means). Color within the lines or you will be labeled. Have a nice day."

Thanks. I'll have a great one.

Usually I Love Shakira, But.....

2009-10-20T08:55:00.000-07:00

I hate to do this, but I have to be fair with my rants....if you need calling out; you need calling out.

I have heard this song "She Wolf" on the radio a number of times. I don't even think it's new anymore. But I had no idea it was Shakira. And then today I saw the music video for said song. And, my god, was it awful.

You see, Shakira has been known for gyrating needlessly in the past; in almost all of her videos, actually. But at least she was on beat before! In this latest video, she is not only gyrating pointlessly, but she isn't even keeping time with the music, and her movements are spastic and strange. She's mostly naked in a cage doing what appears to be sexual Pilates...I just don't get it. It's Britney Spears-esque, and I sincerely doubt that any performer wants to emulate that train wreck (post-liposuction or not) these days.

I always feel like I'm missing something when I watch music videos. Am I supposed to forego all sense of rhythm, reason, and time when watching pop princesses wiggle around in cages in music videos? I am? Oh. Now I get it.

The Joys of Travel

2009-10-19T15:31:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I traveled, and even longer since I blogged about my traveling experience. But sitting in the airport yesterday waiting for my flight, I noticed something that I couldn't help but mention here on Ranting Owl.

Waiting for my (delayed) flight to Chicago yesterday, I was checking out my surroundings. My gate was pretty busy, nearly all the seats taken, with many people to look at. But, conveniently, the woman across from me was the most interesting (and hilarious).

She was reading. Or rather, holding a book and not reading it. She had one earphone in and wore glasses, over the top of which she glanced suspiciously at everyone around her (including myself). She seemed to think that everyone that passed by was suspect in some way, but, upon glancing at what she held in her hands, I came to the conclusion that it was she who was suspect.

She held a book, which was entirely hidden by a cloth cover. It was the kind of little doohicky with pockets on the inside that hold the book (loosely) in place while it hides the back, cover, and spine of your chosen piece of literature from prying eyes.

I just don't understand why this invention is necessary.

When I Googled images of this contraption, the captions I found were things like "Protect Your Privacy," "Your Reading Privacy," etc. Who needs this? Why? Are people so ashamed of what they're reading? Is their greatest fear that someone will ask them "So, how's that book?" (This particular woman wouldn't know how to answer that question either way, as she was too busy looking around for people who might invade her privacy.) Are they embarrassed that they're reading self-help books? "A Loser's Guide for Not Being a Loser"? I suppose this would be a reasonable reason to hide one's literary tastes, since the mentioned book is devoid of taste. Or maybe they don't want to admit that they buy Oprah's Book Club books? C'mon, there are worse cults to follow. Or maybe it's porn? Perhaps this suspicious woman at Gate B19 was reading hardcore S&M erotic literature, and was looking around, fearful of being caught. Well, maybe you wanna read that one at home, lady, if you're so embarrassed.

I just don't get why people do this. I can't come up with a good reason. People are so weird. The end.

In Case You Didn't Know Before, Megan Fox Is Dumb

2009-09-30T08:16:00.000-07:00

So Megan Fox is on the cover of Rolling Stone. The headline is America's Sexiest Bad Girl. I just don't think this is fitting. What exactly constitutes a bad girl, after all? Defying cultural norms? Doing something socially unacceptable? Saying things that no one is supposed to say?

Well, Megan says things no one is supposed to say, but it's not because she's a "bad girl": it's because she's too stupid to realize that the words coming out of her mouth can be likened to a 5th grader who read a philosophy book, didn't understand 3/4 of it, and continuously quotes it incorrectly in 5th grade vocabulary.

As for defying cultural norms or doing something socially unacceptable....well, what has Megan Fox done that is so unacceptable? She wears booty-shorts that might as well be panties in Transformers 2. She has tattoos. She poses naked and half-naked for every magazine that will throw her a buck. She complains a lot about the people she works with (who then anonymously complain about her: see the letter that the crew of Transformers addressed to her). She has tattoos....one of Marilyn Monroe. On her forearm. (.........)

So who does this sound like? Does this sound like a rebel who fights the machine? No, this sounds like every other "dumb-as-a-rock" (I'm just quoting the letter here) celebrity that takes herself too seriously, see Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, etc. Megan Fox likes to think that she is something new; something Hollywood didn't see coming and still isn't prepared for. She likes to think that she is a force of nature.

She's not.

She's like every other girl posing naked for Esquire and Maxim, who then turns around and laments the "superficiality" of Hollywood. She thinks she's a feminist because she uses the word vagina. She thinks calling herself insecure (and adding that she wishes she were "invisible") gives depth to her dimensionless personality.

It doesn't.

She is your average, run-of-the-mill shameless, classless, idiotic skinny moron who happens to have boobs. Run along, Megan.

A-Hole Day

2009-09-14T15:11:00.001-07:00

I don't often go personal, but today I will, just for the sake of immortalizing one particular a-hole that I encountered in my life outside of blogdom today. I won't get too specific (with names and places anyway) but I will disclose just enough so that you can get a feel for who I will be dealing with for the next 3.5 months of my life. I was in class today--which one doesn't matter, although I will say it was a literature class for the sake of your comprehension--and my professor hates me.

For many reasons I suppose: my possession of a uterus is one; my opinionated nature is another (although, in my own defense, I will say that I cut down on my sarcasm a great deal when not blogging, and I was raised in the South, so always respectful); and who knows, my intelligence might throw him off a little too. The guy knows literature, but we differed in opinion in every debate during class today. But one in particular has me frothing at the mouth.

Mr. X's standpoint was that there are assumptions a reader can make on a piece of literature before they read them, based on their knowledge of the author's gender or ethnicity.

Disagree, disagree, disagree.

Maybe if you took his view and applied it to the Victorian era, when women could only write about so many things, then maybe this could be viable. But in 2009, when women are doing, saying, writing and thinking freely in ways that would have been unheard of in a Victorian time period, this standpoint severely limits what is found (or even searched for) in literature produced by females. And non-white writers (because that's who my charming professor was talking about)...really, dude?

So basically if we're Mr. X then this is what we're saying: If you have a vagina, and you're writing a story or a book, or even a poem, then the reader can read your name under the title of the piece and assume that your narrative will probably include babies, cooking, feminism, sexism, rape, relationships, etc. If your skin is of the non-white variety, then your subject will be limited to racism, imperialism, nationalism, freedom, slavery, etc. So what does this mean for white male authors, Mr. X? Can we assume if we see the name, oh, I don't know, Dylan Adams, under the title of a novel that Dylan's entire book will be about his (or his "speaker's") experiences colonizing and raping the world into submission? Would that be a fair assumption?

There was a debate years ago between Frederic Jameson and Aijaz Ahmad about a similar subject. Jameson's claim was that all "Third-World" literature was nationalist literature because Third-World countries are trying to overcome imperialism and colonialism. Ahmad disagrees and they debated for quite some time. What Mr. X is saying is very similar to what Jameson was saying, and I don't like either of those perspectives one bit. I am still debating what to do about this. Part of me wants to make this guys daily class life hell every day from now until the end of the semester. Part of me wants to maintain my all-A track record. We'll see.

The First Black Princess in Disney....is a Frog

2009-09-12T08:30:00.001-07:00

Today I came across a clip of Disney's soon-to-be-released movie, "The Princess and the Frog." People are praising its soundtrack and its cast and, mainly, the fact that "The Princess and the Frog" casts Disney's first black princess.

People have been waiting a long time for this: many, many complaints have been made about Disney for not having a more diverse set of princesses, the sparkly girls that so many little girls adore. But after seeing the trailer for this movie, I have to tell ya, folks...you're gonna be waiting awhile longer.

Princess Tiana of "The Princess and the Frog" is a princess for all of five seconds...and then she meets the titled frog. He convinces her to kiss him to lift a voodoo spell so that he may become a prince again, but rather than the gills disappearing off of the frog, they appear on Princess Tiana. The "twist" that Disney describes in the retelling of this story is this:

The black princess that everyone has so long awaited turns into a frog at the beginning of the movie. She is a frog throughout the movie. Maybe she'll turn back into a princess at the end, who knows. Maybe Disney will decide she is "happier" as a frog than as a black princess---this is a leap of Disney's that I would not be shocked at.

So the conclusion we can draw is that Disney will allow a black princess into their ranks of feminine royalty, but only if she is a frog for 3/4 of the movie. A black princess as a black princess throughout a full-length feature film? Inconceivable!

And guess where this story is set? No, not Never Never Land or the Kingdom of Far-far Away where new racial backgrounds and identities---potentially positive ones!---can be forged. No, no...Princess Tiana lives in New Orleans.

Really, Disney??

Rather than allowing Princess Tiana--and thus black girls---her own kingdom, her own imaginary fantasy world where there are no cultural expectations (especially American ones), no certain way a black girl is supposed to speak and move, Disney chucks her into New Orleans, a city with no real royalty that is rife with America's heavy racial history. This not only gives Princess Tiana as a cinematic character no freedom, but it gives Disney lots.

This placement of Princess Tiana gives Disney the power to make black characters familiar and stereotypical: New Orleans black dialect, voodoo, New Orleans' style food...there are so many black jokes in there that Disney just couldn't wait to unwrap. I need to stop. This could go on forever. But I will say one last thing: is Disney so hard-pressed with writers and imaginists that they couldn't find one cast of people who could imagine something different for Black people? Are their imaginations so limited? Is this all they could picture for Princess Tiana? They could've given her the world, and instead they gave her a drawl, a broken city, and green skin. But that's better than black, right?

Trey Songz = Lame

2009-09-11T10:08:00.000-07:00

After a long absence (for which I apologize) I am back, blogging, and ready to rip Trey Songz.

Now, some things about Trey don't even need to be commented on because it's too easy---like his homosexuality, for example---but other things I figure I can go ahead and riff on, just in case no one else noticed.

So: there's a rumor going around about Trey Songz that he is on steroids. There is even a video of Trey Songz on YouTube addressing this rumor, where some studio guy wholeheartedly denies it on Trey's behalf. (Meanwhile Mr. Songz is in the background lifting up his shirt for the studio guy. Studio guy averts his eyes while still looking.)

Trey Songz...steroids...

Okay, I think it's pretty obvious that Trey Songz started this rumor about himself. No one is talking about him, therefore he must "hate on" himself. Stranger things have happened in the music industry, after all. As a matter of fact, this is nothing new.

Maybe audiences really are that easily tricked. No one was looking at Songz before, thinking to themselves, "Oh my god, those bulging muscles! He has to be on steroids! There's no other way a man could be so BUILT!"

No, no one was thinking that. But Trey wants them to be thinking that. So he invents the rumor himself, plants it in their heads. Then, next time they see his bony ass in a picture---probably in a compromising position with other men: B2K, for example---they will ignore the sodomy and just think, "WOW! Trey Songz must be on steroids! How ELSE could he be so MUSCLEY!"

Kansas City Shuffle all day long.

Melyssa Ford Thinks She's a Role Model

2009-08-31T13:58:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure everyone has heard of Karen Steffans at this point---better known (well, not "better")---as Superhead. A little briefing in case you're fuzzy: video girl to many a rap video, and head-giver to many a rapper. She wrote a book called "Confessions of a Video Vixen" in which she exposed every rapper whose penis her lips have ever touched and talked about what a hard life she's had, etc etc etc.

Role model? Not exactly.

Now, maybe not as many people have heard of Melyssa Ford, so we'll give her a little intro too: also a video girl, fake breasts, fake hair, fake everything, but not so prositutional as Steffans. There have been some rumors, but she has verified nothing and there isn't much proof. BUT, aside from unverified behind-the-scenes fellatio, Ford does the same thing as Steffans. The only difference is the fact that Ford has marketed herself an insane amount, determined to get herself on coffee mugs, calendars, and even your baby's onesy. (Okay, I made up the part about the baby's onesy, but I wouldn't put it past her.)

What I find hilarious is the fact that in a recent interview with DJ Booth, Ford took a stab at Steffans, claiming that she (Ford) was going to write an "anti-Confessions of a Video Vixen" book, to show the "right way" to go about being a video girl for rap videos. Ford claims that she is a "more positive role model" than her ass-baring rival Steffans, and she wants to write a book about her triumphs in a way that is "inspirational."

Where do I f*@!ing begin?

Where on God's green Earth does Melyssa Ford get off coming across as holier than thou? She and Karen Steffans might as well be the same person: they do the same job, they've rubbed their butts on the same crotches, they've probably worn the same crabby thongs. But here she is casting a judgemental eye upon a woman who is essentially the face looking out of her dressing room mirror...except Steffan's breasts are real. Either way, I'm pretty sure the last thing I will ever be "inspired" by are either of their breasts. Period.

Role model?? Does Melyssa Ford honestly think that just because she hasn't publicly announced her head-giving that she is a "more positive role model" than Superhead Steffans? It's not even about the mouth-to-penis, Melyssa: nobody saw that; they just heard about it. Little kids flipping channels on public television didn't come across Steffans doming up Snoop Dogg. No, they saw YOUR ASS, Ms. Ford. YOUR ASS moving somewhat unrhythmically to this or that Mystikal beat. In fact, had it not been for the book Steffans wrote herself, the whole sex scandal crap may as well have not existed. It's not in the public eye. YOUR ASS, however, Ms. Ford, is. As well as your bogus breasts.

And even more hilarious was what came after this bit of bull: when asked if she was planning on going into making her own music, Melyssa Ford resolutely responded that no, she's not an artist and doesn't want to do what people expect of her, which would be branching into all genres. "I'm not a jack of all trades, master of none." Instead, she says, "I stick to what I'm good at."

Wow. And what you're good at would beeeee....putting on thongs and bending over in front of a camera? Or did you mean jiggling your butt on public television? Or, wait, can't forget your "respectable" job, which is writing as the sex columnist for a men's magazine. Tips on fellatio...hmm...you're better than Steffans, alright. (Ever thought that she was dubbed Superhead thanks to your helpful hints, Ms. Ford?)

When asked if she wanted to go into movies, Melyssa said maybe, since she's basically a TV personality already. But she doesn't want to do anything too far-fetched, which would leave her at risk of being called "fake."

Oh, Melyssa....take a look down at that plastic on your chest and talk to me about fake tomorrow.

Go back to Canada.

Naked Women Are EVERYWHERE

2009-08-26T10:05:00.000-07:00

Like many people (or maybe not) I am sick of seeing naked women everywhere being used to advertise for everything. It's just boring. Cologne? Naked chick. Food? Naked chick. Dog food? Probably a naked chick there too.

For most purposes, it doesn't even make sense. No matter how horny a guy is, I really doubt that a set of boobs will make him want to buy a gun, or a hot dog, or a shirt. Unless he wants to shoot said naked woman, or put her on a bun, or have her wear men's clothes, I just don't see how the two equate.

And don't tell me "Sex sells, sex sells, blah blah blah." No, it doesn't; or prostitution would be legal.

And They Call Liberals Crazy!

2009-08-18T06:50:00.000-07:00

During Obama's recent tour through the west, he stopped in Arizona (which is an open-carry state) for speeches and all that good stuff, but he and his Secret Service were made uncomfortable by the presence of many, many guns borne by Obama protestors, guns that included an AR-15 semiautomatic assault rifle.

And they call liberals crazy! PETA (who I can only assume is liberal) can be a a little cuckoo. Even some radical feminist and Black Power groups can take things a little far. But no one, and I mean no one, is taking it as far as these red state nuts toting semiautomatic assault rifles to a presidential speech.

How can this possibly be okay? When asked why he was carrying an AR-15, the man (who chose to remain unnamed, imagine that...) replied "Because I can."

Okay, fine, Jed, or Buck, or Bobby Joe, or Cletus, or whatever your little redneck name is going to be, exercise your civil liberties. Carry your gun to PTA meetings, or on a date with your wife Beulah, or Becky Sue, or to your gap-toothed kid's show-and-tell, or even to your job...fine. But to a public location where the President of the United States is giving a speech? See if you can stand to not have your steel penis-extension in your hand for the length of a speech. Holding a gun isn't the same thing as holding a sign: it doesn't take any brains or imagination. Carrying a shotgun or whatever over your shoulder to a protest just makes you look like an idiot.

A gun near the president? A semiautomatic assault rifle? Years ago these fools would have been shot on sight. What happened to that? Not even an arrest. Oh, those civil liberties...they really work out for some people.

And, of course, the NRA didn't return calls for comment.

Cocaine Found on 90% of US Paper Money

2009-08-17T08:51:00.000-07:00

A recent study shows that the majority of paper money in the United States has traces of cocaine found on it. We're talking 85-90% of bills here, all having had a run-in with coke and---we are led to believe---a cokehead's nostril. To me, this just brings to mind one question...

Who is doing all this coke??

I have lot of friends. None of them do coke. I have seen a lot of people buy and sell drugs, but never coke. I live in Chicago. I've never seen an exchange or an inhalation of cocaine. Am I just coke-blind?? Show me the people who do so much coke---and have so much money---that almost every dollar in my (albeit skinny) wallet statistically has cocaine on it!

I'm really trying to figure out how this is possible.

Maybe these snorters all work in banks. Every time they give someone their withdrawal they're like, "Um, one sec....I have to take this stack of money into the break room for a moment or two" and then they go back there and sprinkle their handy handful of coke over the entire sum?

Or maybe we can chalk this up to allergy-plagued cokers who happen to be in money laundering. The whole time they're swapping bills they're sneezing that morning's drugs all over the cash? Or maybe wherever our government actually prints money, there is a cokehead on the job putting his cokey hands all over everything.

There must be a reason or a way. I just can't believe that there are this many people in the US who are rolling up Georges and Abes in bathrooms and at parties to snort coke, then returning that powdery bill to their billfold to be spent at a store, given as change to an old lady, etc etc before winding up contaminated in my back pocket.

Are you one of these people? How does this happen? I must know. Maybe I could ask George Bush...

This is What We're Supposed to Think is Hot?

2009-08-13T13:54:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of Lindsay Lohan. She is supposedly a socialite, hottie, mean girl, desirable person, etc.

Take a good look at this picture and please tell me why, oh why, that would be the case.

The Ranting Owl is Twittering Now

2009-08-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

If the rants on this blog aren't enough---or are too much---follow me on Twitter (here), where you will get shorter, even more frequent rants. Aren't you just ECSTATIC?

Hillary Snaps a Little

2009-08-12T06:50:00.000-07:00

So people are raising eyebrows about US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's "outburst" in Kinshasa when a Congolese student asked her what Bill Clinton and former NBA star Dikembe Mutombo thought about an international financial policy. Clinton responded like this:

"Wait. You want me to tell you what my husband thinks? My husband is not the secretary of state; I am. So you ask my opinion, I will tell you my opinion. I'm not going to be channeling my husband."

People seem to dumbfounded about what could possibly have led to Clinton's little snapback. Really? Is it that hard??

Now, I'm no huge lauding fan of Hillary Clinton's, but c'mon. She stood in her husband's shadow for years; dealt with the whole Monica Lewinsky thing; dealt with being compared to Sarah Palin; dealt with losing to Obama; dealt with crying on TV; dealt with everything; has been called everything from a bull-dog to a bull-dyke; and now some kid asks her what two men think, two men who currently hold no political position, instead of asking her, the Secretary of State of the United States of America, what her opinion is.

Of course she snapped.

Be serious. I don't even think much more needs to be said. They wanted a tough-girl, they've got a tough-girl. They wanted her for her snarl, so don't put a muzzle on her now.

Chris Brown's Unbroken Home

2009-08-07T09:24:00.000-07:00

As some of you might have heard, Chris Brown beat up his girlfriend Rihanna a while back. He would have been sentenced a few days ago, but the judge has delayed again, wanting to make sure Brown's penance will be more than just community service. I saw this on MSNBC, where Jane Velez-Mitchell and her excellent diva-mullet was commenting on the whole situation.

Velez-Mitchell said that she was saddened by the whole event, as well as the situation of today's children, and gave a mini-lecture on teaching kids about nonviolence, etc. Which is great. Thanks, Jane. But what caught my attention was when she said Chris Brown "grew up around" this kind of behavior, witnessed it, etc.

Really, Jane? Are you sure Chris Brown grew up witnessing regular domestic violence, or are you just assuming that because he is a young black man? Everything that I have heard about Brown's family is happy-happy-joy-joy: no divorce, one of two kids, Virginia, talent shows, the family listening to music together, blah blah blah...typical happy suburban-ish family.

So where does this idea of Chris Brown being witness to domestic violence come from? Not everyone needs a model to act stupidly (or violently). Can't blame rap and rock for everything. Maybe young Chris just has an anger problem. Or maybe he's just a jerk. There are a million reasons---not justifcations, mind you---that a man might hit a woman, but Miss Velez-Mitchell is going racial, which is just...well, racist.

Idiots For Cancer

2009-08-06T11:09:00.000-07:00

Driving today, stopped in traffic, I happened to glance over at the car slightly ahead of me in the next lane. On its bumper was the usual pink bumper sticker with some cheerful slogan about finding the cure for breast cancer that everyone seems to have these days---the bumper sticker, that is: not the cancer.

Okay, no surprise there. The car ahead of me moved forward a little, so did I, and I found myself even with the Breast Cancer Car. 'What does a supporter of "the cure" look like?' I wondered to myself. I glanced into the car next to me.

There she was. Blonde, tanned, cleavage exposed, nodding rhythmically to whatever she was listening to on the radio. What else was she doing? I'll tell you: she was smoking a cigarette.

Yes, a cigarette. I guess she figured that no one could see her lungs, therefore it didn't matter if they were shriveled and black. Her breasts, on the other hand....whole different story! Protect the rack at all costs!

Isn't it Obvious?

2009-08-05T08:21:00.000-07:00

American tourism to Canada is down since 2002. In fact, it's way, way down, dropping from 40 million visitors a year in 2002---which was their peak, according to Randy Williams, head of the Tourism Industry Association---and now they are down to 20 million.

Wow...so 20 million less people are traveling into Canada, huh? Some might blame the recently-passed law that tourists must carry a passport, but I think I know the real reason.

George W. Bush is no longer in office!

In 2002---Canada's peak year for tourism---Bush was here mucking up the country and millions of Americans were scoping out Canada, asking themselves, "Could I live here? I could live here. Anything to get away from W." These so-called tourists were actually prospective Canadian citizens! But now, in 2009, the number has halved itself. Could this be because of Obama? Now that good ole Barack is in the House, fewer Americans are considering unAmerican-ing themselves?

Could be. Or maybe pot got cheaper in the US.

Changes in the Radio

2009-08-03T12:32:00.001-07:00

I have a lot of opinions, as regular readers know, but this is one issue that I don't really have one for. The following is just an observation. Feel free to fill in your interpretations.

I was listening to the radio today. The song "What's It's Like" by Everclear (remember that one?) came on. This is a song of the '90s which I remember hearing on the radio when I was a teenager (and a new one at that). I never bought the album, only heard it on the radio, which is why it will live in my memory forever with certain phrases bleeped out.

Example: "This kid name Max used to get fast stacks out on the corner with Or another: "pulled out his talked some and wound up dead." But today, listening to the radio, when "What It's Like" got to the parts where I automatically stopped singing along because of my remembered censoring, I heard the word "drugs" instead. In fact, the only word that wasn't bleeped out was "shit."

This is interesting. In the 1990's it was not okay to say the word "drugs" and the name of a gun on the radio. In 2009 it is. I wonder what this means.

New York "Problem" is Now Someone Else's

2009-07-30T15:08:00.000-07:00

So New York City is shipping homeless people and their families out of state to other states, even other countries, where they have proved they have family or friends. The airfare is footed by the city. So far they have shipped over 500 families to 24 states and four or five other countries.

Hmm.

Officials are saying that they check on the families after they have been shipped off, to make sure everything is okay, but I doubt it. And the mayor (whose idea this was) says that none of the families are returning to New York after they have been sent away. So it's good, right? Right?

Well, one reason they're not returning, Mr. Mayor, is because they have no money. That is a pretty big preventative for someone NOT to fly back to NYC from across the country, or especially from across the globe. Chances are they are once again homeless. Shipping them off somewhere and dumping them in some person's house who hasn't seen them in what might be decades isn't doing them (or the recipient) any favors. Is there a job waiting for them? An AA course? A money management program? An appointment with a psychiatrist specializing in mental illness? Oh, there's not? Just a house? Oh. Well, I suppose that's better than the streets, but how long until they end up there again?

Rush Limbaugh is against this idea, which may seem surprising at first since he glares down his nose at the unemployed, let alone the homeless. I fully expected him to love this plan: "Yeah, get 'em out of there! Dump 'em somewhere else! Another country? Even better! Send 'em to Iraq, even! Or Afghanistan!"

But upon further inspection this is no shocker: "I wonder if they give them any cupcakes for the plane flight!" he said on-air on his idiotic radio show. Ahh...I see now...Rush doesn't like this idea because he thinks they should be suffering. He---stupidly---believes that this move will be good for the homeless people in question, therefore he is against it. OH! They should be rotting on the streets, he thinks. They should stay in the situation they have "gotten themselves into."

Hmm....if this is the law of Rush, then I wish his fat behind was still unemployed---oh yes, he was on unemployment, that system which he so criticizes the poor for "leeching" on to---and was never offered a cent of aid. He got himself there, after all.

Megan Fox is a Prostitute (kind of)

2009-07-21T09:21:00.001-07:00

In a recent interview with Megan Fox, the commonly-half-naked actress quoted that actors are "kind of prostitutes." The quote was as follows:

"When you think about it, we actors are kind of prostitutes. We get paid to feign attraction and love. Other people are paying to watch us kissing someone, touching someone, doing things people in a normal monogamous relationship would never do with anyone who’s not their partner. It’s really kind of gross.”

Yes, Megan, you really are "kind of gross." I can't agree more. But even if prostitute-ish is in the job description, there is such a thing as refusing to wear the prescribed uniform.

You see, Megan, for such an opinionated girl, to be such a rebel, you really are a sell-out, aren't you? Did Michael Bay threaten to beat you about the face if you declared that, NO, you are NOT going to wear hoochie-shorts and bend unnecessarily over a motorcycle with your buttocks exposed? Something tells me that he didn't.

If you're such a tough girl, let's see some bravey, Megan. It doesn't take balls to take off your clothes for the camera anymore. It takes balls to keep them on.

Who Cares About Sarah Palin?

2009-07-14T08:41:00.000-07:00

This will be a very short blog.

Apparently Sarah Palin doesn't like Barack Obama's energy plan.

My response....

WHO CARES?

Television-watchers Need a Little Help

2009-07-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

Watching TV last night, flipping through channels, I stopped on an alien movie of some kind. It wasn't great: I was kind of just staring at it. But then something came to my attention. I was watching what used to be the science-fiction channel, but realized that in the corner of the screen, where their little logo "Sci Fi Channel" used to be, were the following letters:

Syfy.

Excuse me, but are we really that dumb? Can Americans really not manage to wrap their tongues around the silent C? I can just picture the failed attempts at science fiction literacy....

"What's your favorite channel, Marvin?"
"Oh, you know, skkkk......skkk......skiiiii.......skyyy.........SCKIence Fiction."

Apparently they're going for a new look. They want to attract new audiences---a.k.a women. But is this the way to do it? Syfy doesn't mean anything! It would even be a little better if they capitalized the F. SyFy. But, nope, apparently that's too literate. Eventually they will remove a logo with letters altogether and all that will be left for geeks to identify their beloved nerdo channel will be an alien footprint, or an X (minus the files). The characters will slowly stop using proper grammar, or English at all, and Syfy will simply turn in to an endlessly looping clip of alien-alien-Scully-elf-alien-etc.etc.

I can't wait.

Webster is Annoying

2009-07-09T10:51:00.000-07:00

Maybe I'm a snob. Maybe I'm an elitist. But I find it thoroughly annoying that among the hundred or so words Webster has chosen to be "official" words (actually in the dictionary) are "frenemy," "vlog," and "webisode."

Sources say that Webster couldn't ignore how "popular" these words have become.

Since when does "popular" mean legitimate? "Frenemy" is an idiotic combination of opposites created by Facebookers. "Vlog"...a blog with a video in it. That's not even clever. Webisode? You guessed it...a TV show that can be watched online. These aren't actual words...these are mistaken slurs that someone passed off as new slang to conceal their verbal misstep.

Maybe I'm being unneccessarily brutal. William Shakespeare basically pulled hundreds of the words we use in everyday conversation out of his a$$, so who am I to say that faddy teens and wannabe middle-agers can't pull things like "staycation" out of theirs? But at least Shakespeare was creative. Only people like Paris Hilton say things like "frenemy." Words like "staycation" are beyond amateur and belong in teenage girls' magazines only. Not in Webster.

Hurricane Chris is Devastating

2009-07-06T09:34:00.001-07:00

Someone shared a video with me on Facebook recently. It was court footage taken in the Louisiana House of Representatives, where an old-ish black woman got in front of the House and started a somewhat inarticulate speech about how she wants to introduce a person who has done positive things for his community and in the world of music, when he could have been gang-banging, etc etc (she sounded like he was missing out) and how he's actually her godson and she wants to introduce him and have him do a bit from his new song. At the end of her little speech, she does this big awkward wave, and then gives a shout-out. This is the House of Representatives, lady. Not the BET awards. How professional.

And out comes Hurricane Chris.

Yes, the brilliant Shreveport native who released "Ay Bay Bay" in 2007. If you haven't heard it, don't worry: it's basically the words of the title repeated over and over again in a barely comprehensible dialect. In a nutshell, Hurricane Chris---the most insensitively self-named "artist" in the state of Louisana, hands down---is a remarkably untalented individual.

But back to the House...Chris comes out and proceeds to tell the House---again, almost incomprehensibly---about how his new song titled "Halle Berry (She Fine Den a Bitch)" is a positive message to women and how he knows how women like to "catta-grize" ("catergorize") themselves and he thought he would help them out by picking a role model for them. He also adds that women are all shapes and sizes (yes, Chris, they are) and that is doesn't matter what you look like, it's about confidence, blah blah blah. And then he raps.

"She fine den a bitch, ass and her tits,
Thick in the hips, every nig want her."

First off, I don't even know what "fine den a bitch" means. Does he mean this literally? That the object of his physical affection is indeed "finer" than a female dog? Or finer than a [synonym for woman]? Which doesn't make sense. But the whole thing is just, needless to say, offensive. His godmother must be in a state of dementia: a positive message? A positive anything cannot be found in this song. And it only gets worse.

"This is real action
Beat it up so bad
You be scared to walk past me" (repeat)

And this is a good thing, Chris? Not just in the context of the song, but in terms of your interpersional relationships with women, you want to "beat it up so bad she'll be scared to walk past you"? That doesn't sound very healthy. In fact, it sounds like rape and assault. Hmm.

This young man is an idiot, but really his idiocy fades in comparison to that of his godmother. Even with the rose-tinted glasses of a family member, your ears must still be functioning. How can you place a song that is titled "Halle Berry (Fine Den a Bitch)" in the same sentence as the word "positive"? C'mon lady. Give that boy a whooping and tell him to go to school.

If you would like to witness this spectacle, check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zrTWSP2QtYA

Hurricane Chris Postponed for a Greater Evil

2009-07-02T18:24:00.000-07:00

Today's blog was going to be dedicated to a "performance" "rapper" Hurricane Chris gave for the Louisiana House of Representatives, but we're putting that off until tomorrow to give a little bit of space for the notorious Britney Spears.

Today, doing the nanny thing for the thirteen year old I have mentioned once or twice before, I entered a conversation with my charge about music, one of her favorite topics of discussion. She stays glued to the radio, or her iPod, which she has stocked with anything she hears on the radio. Unfortunately, she is your typical teenage sheep. But it is what it is.

In the midset of conversation, she was telling me how she hated Britney Spears.....but still has some of her songs on her iPod. Now, she is always bragging about which iTunes song she has most recently bought---if it's new and considered "popular," she has purchased it. So she proceeded to tell me proudly that she had the new Britney Spears song on her playlist: "F-U-C-K Me" she called it.

WHAT?

I, shocked, asked her if that was really the name of the song. She looked a little embarrassed, and then told me that I had already heard her singing it in the car, and that she didn't sing that part so I can't be mad. I was confused. I was sure I had never heard this song before.

But I have. So have you, most likely. It is titled (in print) "If You Seek Amy." The chorus goes as follows: "Love me, hate me, say what you want about me: but all the boys and the girls are begging to if you seek Amy." Now, admittedly, the first time I heard this, I was confused. "'Begging to' what?" I asked myself.

Now, after a conversation with a thirteen year old girl, who has only just emerged out of the part of her life where grown-ups spelled things out around her (supposedly to keep her from hearing what she shouldn't be hearing, but now is making it all the more obvious) I am made aware of Britney Spears' "clever" little pun.

"If you seek Amy," when said with just a little different emphasis, sounds just like....well, try it. The chorus doesn't even make sense if you actually read it (or hear it) as "if you seek Amy." Put in "F-U-C-K me" and the grammar will miraculously rearrange.

Am I the only one who didn't know this? Maybe so. I googled the video so my boyfriend could hear it, and at the beginning was a brief clip of a news segment in which this was being discussed, calling it "obscenity in disguise."

Okay, this isn't even a disguise. And it isn't even clever. In the video---which kids these days worship---during the parts that say the above phrase, Britney and her back-up dancers are doing grinding and humping motions. There's a lot of partial nudity. Britney at one point is clutching a pair of lacy leopoard print panties. Oh, wonderful. Great job, Britney: put a nice sing-songy tune in there (a lot of "la-la-ing" throughout so that the five-year old sister of the thirteen year old I babysit also knows it all by heart) and you can say whatever you want, just hoping and praying that the little sponges that are teenagers soak up every word. No one can deny that Britney Spears is a teenage idol: it's just a fact. Does no one care that this little pun will be echoed by teenagers across the nation?

But you know what, I'm not even blaming Britney. She is obviously too stupid to even know the consequences of her musical endeavors. But where's the a$$hole who wrote these lyrics? He needs a slap or two.

Or maybe a teenager daughter singing the lyrics he wrote aloud in the car as he takes her to school. That would be even better.

Another Transformers Chick

2009-07-01T11:37:00.000-07:00

Real quick...

Another thing about the new Transformers movie that was distracting---and annoying---was the presence of Isabel Lucas (an "actress") playing the character of Alice, the "hot" college girl who actually ended up being a Decepticon.

Alice was "number one on [Leo's] bang list" or something equally graphic (from his lips), and by the way her character was dressed, made up, and made to walk, not to mention the suggestive lines she was given throughout her part in the film, I came to the conclusion that this Alice chick was supposed to give male viewer's an erection. She was supposed to be a hot item: as a female viewer, I was supposed to be jealous of her, was supposed to elbow my boyfriend in the ribs for staring at the theater screen with his mouth open.

Alice, with her big-ass forehead, nonexistent lips, hooker make-up, and fake tan was supposed to represent an ideal.

This amazes me. Do people really just see what is on the screen and conclude that they find it sexually attractive, even if what is on the screen is actually and underweight, 5'10" version of a nine-year old girl? Dude, just because she's in a movie doesn't mean she's attractive. Americans (men and women) see what's on TV, what's dancing around in too little clothing, see what's bulging with steroids out of its shirt, and arrive at the conclusion "Yes, that's sexy. It was fed to me on a hegemony-garnished plate and I devoured it, vomiting up only the 'for entertainment purposes only' label."

Brilliant.

Megan Fox's Transforming Lips

2009-06-30T12:55:00.000-07:00

So I saw Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. It was dope. Yes, it was awesome. Very entertaining, well-shot, blah blah blah. Shia LeBeouf is great. But there was something that, despite the Autobots' and Decepticons' frantic struggles, was very distracting. What, you wonder, could be more engrossing than alien machines battling it out on human terrain with the tasty LeBeouf running around sweating? Well, I'll tell you.

Megan Fox's lips.

They were, like, pulsating. Even throughout the most intense action scenes, Megan's lips were bright pink, blowjob-wet, and always open. I couldn't take my eyes off of them. It was almost disturbing. They were...poofy. While I tried to focus on Optimus the orator, I couldn't help trying to remember if her lips were this expansive in the first Transformers.

So after the movie, I went home and looked.

In case you were wondering, her lips were not so bountiful in Transformers 1. They were normal looking. Megan Fox is a great-looking girl, and she was strikingly pretty in the first installment with LeBeouf, so I am confused as to why someone felt the need to pump up her mouth to Jolie-like standards.

I don't believe she had Botox. If so, maybe only a little. This particular plasty of the pucker, I think, was all in the Transformers make-up department. And it was just ridiculous. She doesn't need to look like a blow-up doll to fight alien robots, guys.

Hallmark is Annoying

2009-06-21T19:14:00.000-07:00

While perusing the shelves of Walgreens for a Father's Day card, I came across (not for the first time) Hallmark's Mahogany brand cards. "Mahogany" is a (supposedly) clever and elusive way of saying "Cards for Black People."

These cards, idiots might say, have "soul." Others might say they provide an alternate vernacular for one's greetings. I might say that they're racist.

This is my second posting about racism in the past few days, so I'll try not to over-do it, but this got me into my natural state of outrage, so I had to write something.

I cracked open a few of these so-called Mahogany cards and what I found were random religious interjections and "slangy" words. Other than that, the cards were the exact same as any other card---aside from the "ethnic" patterns printed in an "African" manner around the border of the card. My conclusion was that Hallmark seemed to be under the impression that they could "Mahogonize" any given phrase simply by adding "Man" to the beginning or end of it.

This is an example of what I found in a "Mahogany" Father's Day card: "Man, you do a wonderful job of taking care of your family."

I laughed out loud in the greeting card aisle.

MAN? That's what Hallmark considers a "black" way of saying "Happy Father's Day?" I can just picture the kind of people that write these "greetings." A little nerdy looking white guy with glasses sitting in a cubicle who doesn't know any black people pondering to himself:

"Hmm...if I knew a black guy, how would he say Happy Father's Day to his apparently non-absent father? He'd probably say 'man,' or 'dog.' That's what black people call each other, right? Hmm....what about the N-word? Can I put the N-word on the card? Hmm...no....well, maybe. Since it's not me saying it, it's ok, right? Maybe I'll stick with 'man.' Wait, what about 'homie'? 'Happy Father's Day, homie.' Yeah, that sounds pretty good."

This is ridiculous. Adding African-looking prints and vernacular to a greeting card doesn't make it more accessible to African-Americans. As long as there's not a big picture of a fat white baby on the front, words are words and can be applied to anyone.

Now, just for any dissenters, I will add that I came across a few Mahogany cards that were great. One with a nicely illustrated black couple embracing with the words, "My husband, I'm blessed as a woman, blessed as a wife...blessed with a man who's the love of my life!"

Okay, that's sweet. And universal. The drawing makes it more accessible to black folks looking for something that represents them. Great, no offense. No unnecessary and presumptuous slang. No random "ethnic" print. All good.

Beware: Pop Music on Duty

2009-06-17T10:50:00.001-07:00

The rant you are about to read could go on for hours. Days. Forever. So I will try to keep it short (reasonably so) and sweet (as poison honey).

When I was growing up and first getting into music, I eventually learned from many sources---radio, magazines, television, parents, school---that rap music was bad. It was so bad, in fact, that we couldn't have rap CDs at school; that they got "parental advisory" stickers slapped on the front; that they couldn't be played on the radio. Rap music, with its black people and its sexual overtures and its rhymes about cars and jewelry, was bad. Dangerous, even. Books were written about its negative influences; talk shows dedicated to its condemnation; feminist groups riled up about its sexualized impression on young women.

With all of this taken into consideration, I just have one question...

Why isn't anybody upset about pop music?

Well, anybody besides me, anyway. Because I, for one, am pissed.

Pop music is raunchy. Pop makes drug references, sexual references, champions the consumption of alcohol, and generally does everything that rap does minus a "f*ck" or a "b*tch." Yes, pop is generally devoid of cursing---actually, Beyonce has stooped to "sh*t" and "b*tch" once or twice lately, although, if you follow my theory that has yet to be revealed, you will see that because of her skin tone Beyonce is still categorized as R&B, which we all know is a joke---but is it really the cursing that makes what's bad the worst?

Okay, here's the theory: it's all racist. All of it. The radio, the producers, the industry. Racist racist racist. Racisty racist music industry. You cannot convince me that artists like T-Pain and Lupe Fiasco (I hate to use those two in the same sentence) are slapped with a "Parental Advisory: Explicit Content" label just because of a few curse words.

I will use two prime example of pop stars who deserve the sword, and are allowed to say whatever they want in their songs with no fear of a black and white label on their album cover. Lady Gaga has recently appeared on my radar, as well as 3Oh!3. Both white. Both non-rap. Both raunchy. Gaga is best known as of now for her opening lyrics to "Love Games": "Let's have some fun this beat is sick/ I wanna take a ride on your disco stick" which continues on to "Don't think too much just bust that dick/ I wanna take a ride on your disco stick." And in 3Oh3!'s song "Don't Trust Me" which I blogged about just says ago, we run into: "Don't trust a hoe/ Never trust a hoe/ Can't trust the hoe" etc etc. And let's not even talk about the Pussycat Dolls...that's considered teenage pop music, guys.

Really?

I am a nanny to two young girls 3 days a week, and the thirteen year old and her friends know every word to the above-mentioned songs. Every word. Yet when I ask them about rap songs---every kid is a case study in my life---they haven't heard of 3/4 of them.

So what is to be gleaned from this information? Well, we could say that as a result of the racist attitudes toward rap music, that it's not---and never was---as much of a threat as nervous white people wanted it to be. As a result of its constant condemnation, and warning labels, and talk show witch trials, rap was pushed into the position of pariah, making its audience significantly smaller than that of pop. The only kids that were (and, for the most part, still are) listening to rap are black kids, and who cares about them anyway, right? As long as our precious white American teens are safe from the evils of rap music, then that's all that matters, right? Right? But the thing is, the music that is just as nasty as the exiled rap music that is supposedly so offensive and bound to lead little girls down the path of self-sexualization---POP MUSIC---is reaching more audiences than the horrendous rap due to the fact that it hides in a white bread disguise. Yet rap is more damaging? At least it is blatant: Lady Gaga infiltrates girls' psyches with a girlish voice and a cutesy beat, nevermind the fact that she's causing thirteen year old girls in my backseat to chant at the top of their lungs: "I want to take a ride on your disco stick." Who writes these lyrics? Pedophiles?

And pop pretends to be this exclusive white club. Artists like Beyonce and Ciara, even TI at this point, and definitely T-Pain, are making pop music. Period. There's rhythm in "Single Ladies" and "Blame It On The Alcohol" but no blues. This is pop music. White soccer moms are rocking out to "Alcohol," which opens up a completely different can of worms that I will address another time.

Yet these same singers and makers of music are called R&B artists. Forgive me if I refuse to believe that this is for any reason other than the fact that they're black. Black people can't make pop music, according to this strange system: if they're black then their music---no matter what it sounds like---is R&B. (Unless they're cursing, because then it's rap.)

Oh my, this has gotten rather lengthy, and I promised it wouldn't. So I will wrap it up. There is so much more to say, so this will come up again, I assure you.

Blame Game

2009-06-16T07:18:00.001-07:00

I keep hearing men complain---in songs, on talk shows, in my life---about how bitter they are because of a lot of women and their mantra that "men are dogs." These guys get so upset about it, proclaiming "Why do women always say that? We're not all dogs! I'M a good man! Women always wanna talk bad about a man!" and blah blah blah....

Okay, why are you mad at us, guys? Why are we getting the bitterness and the attitude? Shouldn't you be mad at other guys? I mean, seriously: talk about blaming the victim. Most women have a personal experience that explains why they have this opinion of men, but instead of blaming the guy who earned those dog tags---the cheater, the liar, the beater, what have you---women become the object of so-called "good men's" bitterness, outrage, and derision?

Well that just doesn't make sense.

Instead of getting all outraged with us, guys, how about you turn that manly finger of yours and point it at your fellows? And from there, maybe be a little outraged with them. Rather than being bitter, how about you be an exception.

Golf is Lame

2009-06-14T19:34:00.000-07:00

Not only is golf lame, it is not a sport. Golf is a game. Golf is a game played by bored rich people.

Golf would be a sport if the golfers had to run from hole to hole---or even walk, which is done by fewer and fewer people. Golf would be a sport if a sweat was worked up by an action other than that of the body's natural reaction to heat, heat generated not by vigorous activity but by the rays of the sun. Golf would even be a sport if there was a weigh-in before tee off, but all the paunchy participants would never allow that.

Golf is a game. There is no time limit---it is encouraged to be played at a leisurely pace, and we all know leisure time started with the yuppies. There are no physical standards that need to be met. Like a game, it is for all ages.

And golf, like Monopoly (which is a game), is boring. And for rich people. I'm surprised people make it through a round of golf---especially considering how fat a lot of them are---because I can barely make it through a game of Monopoly.

I Hate to Admit It.....

2009-06-13T16:28:00.001-07:00

As much as I hate to admit it, I actually agree with Sarah Palin on something. It's not what you think though: it has nothing to do with Alaska or George W. Bush.

It has to do with David Letterman and his idiotic joke about Palin's daughter getting "knocked up" during the 7th inning of a baseball game which Palin and one of her daughter's attended recently. The daughter present was fourteen and Palin has said that the joke was in bad taste and is an example of our society's ready willingness to degrade and sexualize young women, as well as a contributing factor.

Unfortunately, I gotta side with Ms. Alaska on this one.

I know that Letterman doesn't write his own jokes, but does it really matter whose bright idea it was to say this on air? Not only is it in bad taste, as Sarah Palin has expressed, but it is tasteless. She's right: the fact that it is acceptable for someone to make a joke about a teenager getting "knocked up" (who still says "knocked up" anyway?) on public television is a little unbelievable. Now, I do believe Palin took it a little too far when she said that he was condoning and making light of statutory rape (as the daughter present at the game was fourteen) but she still does have a point. Since when has it been okay for anyone (let alone David Letterman's lame a$$) to make jokes about a fourteen year old girl getting "knocked up"? She's fourteen, for God's sake: when can a girl be left out of the sexualization? Never, you say? Oh...well, that's a problem.

However: for all Palin's huffing and puffing about contributing factors to young women's confidence and feelings of self-worth, I must ask where the heck she gets off spewing this rhetoric. What has Sarah "Miss Alaska" Palin done for women's rights? As far as I'm concerned she has played as offensive a role as any other conservative, anti-female politician: no abortions (even in the event of rape or incest) and no family planning: abstinence and creationism are her bread and butter. So if you're looking to Sarah Palin as your role model, get ready to pop out some babies, girls!

I would love to see Sarah Palin do something about this whole David Letterman ordeal besides making a slanted (and also tasteless) statement about pedophilia. She raises valid points that are flawed only by her own hypocrisy. So how about we fix that hypocrisy, Sarah, and make something worthwhile happen?

White Boys Can Be Misogynists Too!

2009-06-10T13:40:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, the word "hoe" has generally "belonged" to hip-hop in terms of its use in music. But thanks to a new---lame---band called 3OH!3 and their song "Don't Trust Me," degrading women with the "h-word" has spread into pop! Yay! Now even more young music-listeners can experience the joys of misogynism!

In this "song," "Don't Trust Me" the chorus consists of the following: "Don't trust a hoe, never trust a hoe, won't trust a hoe, 'cause the hoe won't trust me."

Look at the picture above. These are the guys who, in their music video for this song, are being attacked by sensual, curvaceous women---presumably the "hoes" that they "don't trust" that are mentioned in the song---and the only thing I can think of is, "Who are these lames?"

There is no way, in any other circumstances, that either of these guys would be attacked by anyone, unless that "anyone" was a bearded Bubba in a state penitentiary. But they want to call a woman a hoe? If I were them I would mind my f-ing manners, because these women who they're calling names are about all they will ever get in terms of sex. So buy some flowers, boys, and watch the language.

Her Body's Not a Crime Scene

2009-06-10T13:05:00.001-07:00

Dr. George Tiller isn't even cold in his grave and already Operation Rescue---the unimaginatively named anti-abortion group that hounded Tiller's clinic for years---is making a scene. In a phone interview, Troy Newman, the group's president, said that he would "love to make an offer" on the building.

Okay, what the heck?

Newman's group has already made one former abortion clinic their headquarters, and now they want another? What is it with these people where they prefer to spend their time in buildings where fetuses were consistently removed from uteruses? That just doesn't sound like a happy place. But they seem to love it. But no, according to "Operation Rescue," it was the late Dr. Tiller who had issues. Right.

Newman says that they want to transform the former clinic in a place that "nurtures and cares for babies, rather than taking their lives." Hmm. Has Newman considered growing a uterus and giving this nurturing a shot? But he has to try it single, poor, and possibly as a minority. Oh, and he has to have crappy or nonexistent health care. Wait, and he has to saddle himself with hundreds of years of cultural expectations, including the burden of the patriarchal---and unaccomodating---glare.

Check, check, check? Okay, now how are you going to "nurture and care" for these babies, Mr. Newman?

The Big Question

2009-06-10T12:46:00.000-07:00

Apparently the big question the Republican Party is faced with right now is not "How can we further destroy the country with Bush out of office?" or even "How do we get rid of Obama?" Apparently the main question is "What do we do with Sarah Palin?" She's back in Alaska---listless, no doubt---so what do the Republicans do with her?

I have a few suggestions.

She could start by learning to read. My suspicion is that she banned all those books merely because she was jealous of literacy. Becoming literate would be a great place to start with making use of her free time.

Next, little Sarah could use Alaska's, oops, I mean, her own money to buy an atlas. Or a globe. Or even a flat road map just to help her learn some basic things about geography. You know, things that most of us learn in grade school, but Sarah bypassed for the call of beauty pageants.

What else? Oh, well, Sarah could get rid of some things she doesn't need. The jet has supposedly already been taken care of, so maybe a yard sale or auction to rid herself of her excess high-powered rifles. And hotel reservations. And plane tickets. You know, stuff like that.

Sarah could also do some family activities. Maybe she could go to a family planning seminar with Bristol. It's a little too late, but something can always be learned. I'm sure Sarah could learn a few things too. Maybe she would find out that condoms do work....when they're actually used. Her definition of ABC has been "Anything But Condoms" up until now (in favor of abstinence) but we see how well that worked for good ole Bristol. But can we really blame Sarah? She can't teach what she doesn't know, and that covers a whollllle lot of territory, so....

What else can the Republican Party recommend Sarah do with her time? Soon they'll realize how useless she is and start advising her to go on strange missions, such as dinosaur hunts in Death Valley, which of course she will be too dim to realize are thinly veiled attempts to get rid of her.

Deadly Eyebrow Shaver

2009-06-04T09:06:00.000-07:00

A Pittsburgh middle schooler was expelled from her school for being found in possession of an eyebrow shaver. Apparently, during the search in which the dreaded eyebrow shaver was found, the searcher cut her finger on it and it was a pronounced to be no less dangerous than a razor.

Ok, first off, what is an eyebrow shaver? And why did this girl have one at school? But, more importantly, why was she expelled for having it?

The way I see it, the girl was obviously having some grooming issues. Maybe she had a unibrow and a friend at school said she would trim the hedge for her? Are those grounds for expulsion? The girl just wanted two separate eyebrows...is that so much to ask?

I'm sure---knowing middle schoolers---that this particular chick was getting endlessly picked on if she had a Bert growing on her forehead, and peer angst can result in drastic measures. I mean, dang, it's either bring the eyebrow shaver---whatever that is---to school and weedwack that growth, or tolerate the teasing, and then our hairy little adolescent would end up bringing something else to school in her little backpack, except next time it may be semiautomatic.

Oh, Christians....

2009-06-03T08:59:00.000-07:00

Perusing Facebook today, I couldn't help but notice a new group added on the sidebar that 4 of my friends apparently joined. The "I Love Jesus" group on Facebook seems to be pretty popular, as the four of my friends that joined are four of thousands.

I wonder how many of these people go to church. I wonder how many have actually read the Bible, let alone follow its teachings. These people somehow think that by belonging to an "I Love Jesus" group they are given a "Good Christian" merit badge.

This phenomenon is comparable to those "WWJD" bracelets that were so popular about a decade ago. The wearer apparently thought that by having that little scrap of cloth on their wrist, they were absolved of every wrong-doing committed throughout the day (who knows what happened when they took it off at night!).

No, no, guys....that bracelet posed a question: what would Jesus do? That's a question that you are supposed to ask yourself before you make a decision. When it doubt, consult the bracelet. Instead, it became a fashion accessory. I remember kids bragging about how many bracelets of varying colors they had, compared to the loser in class who only had one.

What would Jesus do? I guarantee he wouldn't be as materialistic---or as consumer-conscious---as to place bracelets with his name on them too high on the totem pole of good morals.

Techie "Injuries"

2009-06-02T10:54:00.000-07:00

Kids in my day had sprained ankles and bruises from playing outside, but these days the "injuries" children sustain are things like Nintendo's thumb, Guitar Hero wrist, and now the fearsome cell phone elbow.

This is pathetic.

No wonder we're all fat. I actually heard a kid at the pool today say that he could "probably beat" his friend who is on the tennis team at tennis because he plays it on the Wii, therefore making him the next Nadal. I would love to see that kid waddle his jiggly butt out on to the court and actually do something with his nearly-nonexistent muscles. As soon as he lost is breath---which would be in the first 30 seconds or so---he would blame it on the the oh-so-strenuous Wii wearing out his tendons.

I wish kids would go out and break their arms the old fashioned way. Yep, I said it. Enough of this cell phone elbow: get off the phone and go climb a tree, fall out of it, and get a real injury, kid.

You wanna talk about an injury? You know what pains me? I've got a strained medial rectus from rolling my eyes so much.

California Sucks

2009-05-26T16:16:00.000-07:00

I'll keep this short. The California high court upheld the ban on same-sex marriage.

What jerks.

I thought California was supposedly one of the most liberal states in the country? I thought California was supposed to be the land of dreams? Everybody went West back in the day, looking for hope and gold, but now if you're looking for hope and you happen to be homosexual...well, better drive to Iowa. Iowa.

So California is accepting about things like marijuana, and pornography, and former actors being governors.....but homosexuality? No way?

Oh ok.

Girl Hair vs. Boy Hair

2009-05-23T19:07:00.000-07:00

Driving today, the DJ on the radio started advertising for a local waxing salon. After describing the salon's services and offers, the DJ goes on to say "It's summertime, ladies! Time to remove that unsightly hair from those certain places!"

Ladies?

I really don't get why this salon and its services were aimed at the "ladies." Men, as a rule, are way hairier than women, and if hair is so gross---as I can only interpret it to be, due to the urgent need to get rid of it---then why wasn't that commercial aimed at men and women? Why are we always pressured to pluck and primp and wax our freaking follicles?? I actually got into a similar argument with a boy in one of my classes. He said he wouldn't date a girl who didn't shave her legs. When I asked why, he said "I like smoothness."

What, you think we don't?? Girls love soft stuff...shave your legs, dude. If you like smoothness, shave your whole body and cuddle yourself, since you're (deservedly) still single.

People always act like bikini-line fuzz is the most disgusting thing imaginable. I beg to differ...a man with a wooly back is more likely to affect my gag reflex any day of the week. A little hair is okay anywhere---even on the upper lip, girls: stop being so obsessive---so don't stress, boys. (Even if you are extra furry, you might luck out and find a girl with a wolf fetish.) But if you look like the man in the picture above, then you too need to be going to that local waxing salon. It's summertime, ladies and gentleman.....

Bristol's Got a Baby

2009-05-20T16:48:00.000-07:00

People magazine's cover is devoted to Bristol Palin's high school graduation...and her baby.

Her face is everywhere, which is annoying enough on its own, but surpassing that is the fact that now we have to see Sarah Palin's unfortunate face kissing a boulder-headed baby all over the news. (Just because she can hold a human child doesn't mean she is human, guys.)

But, really, why do we care that Bristol Palin doesn't know what condoms are, or at least doesn't know how to use them? Can't she just raise her ugly little kid and shut up? Now she's everywhere preaching absinence like some reproductive Republican puppet. Was this all planned? A scam of her mother's to recruit another soldier in the fight against birth control? I can just picture Sarah Palin in her teenage daughter's bedroom, piercing condoms.

It's just such a pain to see a Palin on People, or any magazine for that matter. The best the press can do at this point is to just act like these people don't exist. Bristol doesn't need the limelight...she needs a backhand and a sack of diapers. Oh, and maybe a book on family planning. Oh wait, she can't...her mom probably banned them all.

Michael Vick is a Douche

2009-05-20T07:58:00.000-07:00

While eating oatmeal this morning, I came across an article announcing that Michael Vick has been released from prison and will work construction for $10/hr before he goes on probation and is able to return to the NFL.

Now, I'm not one of those people who thinks Vick should be condemned to death or kept in prison forever or banned from the NFL. But I do think he is a major jerk who should have to wear the word "a$$hole" on the back of his jersey if he returns to playing football. For the rest of his career.

I saw some of the pictures of the dogs that animal services or whoever removed from his home/torture chamber and I was so pissed. Vick is a freaking millionaire but I guess money doesn't take the jerk out of the jerk-off.

Michael Vick was born in Newport News, Virginia, which his biography claims was best known for producing drug dealers and gang members. But Michael broke out! Michael got out of the hood and made something of himself! A big something: a rich-nasty-abusive-douche of a something.

Vick claims he escaped being a statistic by breaking into football, but he actually became an even worse statistic; the one that says you can take the man out of the hood, but you can't take the hood out of the man. And I don't mean that in the narcissistic gangsta rap sense of the phrase: I mean that in the "Damn, that's sad" sense of the phrase that people have seem to forgotten.

Apparently Kilts Are Gay

2009-05-17T20:06:00.000-07:00

One Principal Jessop in Utah forced a student at his middle school to change out of a kilt, saying it could be misconstrued as cross-dressing.

Cross-dressing? Cross-dressing, Principal Jessop? Be serious.

If little Gavin McFarland (the skirt-wearing miscreant) wanted to cross-dress, don't you think he would choose something a little more appealing than a kilt? I mean, kilts aren't sexy. They're just not. If this kid wanted to pick up some hotties by dressing as a woman, don't you think he would have at least put on a mini-skirt? He didn't even put on heels...the dude was probably just wearing Chucks (with socks) to compliment that kilt.

Not hot.

You see, this is where we see that this issue is all Principal Jessop's. This is a prime example of a little thing we call projection. My guess is Principal Jessop is cruising the she-males of Utah---are there any?---or is one.

"Here's a hooker for your birthday, son!"

2009-05-16T17:10:00.000-07:00

A man in London was arrested but spared jail after he was caught by undercover police trying to hire a hooker for his 14 year old son. He wanted to help his son lose his virginity, he said, and took him cruising for a pro. He even let him "pick out" his fave hooker, according to an article by Reuters.

But the dude didn't go to jail; didn't even get a fine. According to Reuters, "Judge Jonathan Teare said he would spare the father jail because of his excellent character and that he believed he did not mean any harm to his son."

Excellent character? Oh yes, this shows IMPECCABLE character: what a winner. His kid is 14 and god forbid still a virgin, so he takes him and lets him "pick out" a human being to rut with. The judge did, however, chide the man by saying it is up to him as a father to look out for the "moral welfare" of his son. The son is still allowed to live with the father, great, but what lesson has been learned here?

Maybe the guy should have gone to jail for awhile (14 year old son or not) or at least been fined: at least the kid would learn that there are consequences for breaking the law.

Miss Cali Keeps Her Crown

2009-05-12T09:12:00.000-07:00

Now, as much as I think that Carrie Prejean is a dumb b*tch (quoting Perez Hilton here) I am glad she got to keep her pretty little crown. Well, wait, let me clarify....I don't think she should have a crown at all, ever, but since she already has it, and considering the current argument over whether she should keep it now that these "topless photos" have come to light....I don't think they should take it away.

But not because I like her. Definitely not because I like her.

She should keep it because, for God's sake, look at the "topless pictures" that everybody is freaking out about. I expected to see a full boob, at least, but this isn't a topless shot, guys: it's a back shot. That's a girl's back. And a really unattractive butt. Why are people going crazy about this? Because she was seventeen or eighteen? So? Didn't Miley-freaking-Cyrus pull this same crap when she was like nine? Ok, thirteen. Something like that.

I am only arguing because I am sick of America being a little pretend-prude punk. We are the most sex-obsessed country in the world, and splash magazines and TV commercials and, like, dollhouse ads with nudity, but we want our little Miss America contestants to be virginal powder-puffs? I'm getting some mixed messages here. And we all know Miss Carrie Prejean is too dumb to figure it out herself. Somebody help the girl out...As I have said before: take the implants out of that girls wanna-be-Christian chest, give her the crown back as long as she promises to get some counseling, and then make her go to a Pride festival.

Another Gay Catholic

2009-05-12T08:43:00.000-07:00

This post is not going to be what you think it's going to be. Yes, a former Catholic bishop of Milwaukee has come out of the closet. Yes, he was involved in a financial and sexual scandal, accused by a young man. Yes, this is typical. But that's not what I want to write about.

I want to write about the fact that the Vatican says men who have a "deep seated attraction to other men" should not be ordained.

Hmm.

So this means that dabblers are welcome, right? Those guys that don't necessarily describe their attraction as "deep seated," but prefer one-nighters, "club sex" and mixed gender orgies are fine? This guy, the Milwaukee guy, Mr. Weakland, he is definitely out because he has come out, but the other dudes, the ones who just dabble in gayness, they're still okay, right?

What does deep seated even mean? This is so problematic to me. Who decides? The Pope? What if he is a dabbler?

Nick Cannon is Lame

2009-05-11T21:42:00.000-07:00

Eminem has offended someone---surprise, surprise---and that someone is Nick Cannon. Apparently Slim Shady made a song called Bagpipes from Baghdad or something equally cryptic in which he calls Mariah Carey a cunt, among other things, and tells Nick Cannon he is going to "kick [him] in [his] sack of junk." He also raps about wanting Mariah back, as well as repeated drug and alcohol references. He was clearly "some type of inebriated" when he wrote this song.

But Nick Cannon (brave, brave, Nick Cannon) doesn't care what mental state Eminem is or was in. He is stepping forward (in his blog) to defend the honor of his wife. In his blog he struggles over whether to listen to the angel on his shoulder and be "Christ-like" and not beat up Eminem, or to listen to "the dude on the other shoulder" (I suppose he means the little devil) and "drop [Eminem] in the first round."

Oh, Nick.

This is just hilarious. Picturing Nick Cannon beating up anyone is guffaw-worthy, but picturing him beating up Eminem is just beyond entertaining. Nick, don't you know that Eminem is insane?? This dude has ISSUES, Mr. Cannon! ISSUES! Have you heard any of his other songs?! Marshall Mathers is a messed up white kid from the 'hood...he may be white, but he will put you somewhere dark: a deep hole in the ground, most likely.

The idea of Nick Cannon "dropping [Eminem] in the first round" seems so unlikely, in fact, that I am forced to wonder if he actually meant another kind of battle. A rap battle, perhaps? Cannon did indeed make a few songs back in the day. Let's think about this...

Picture this battle: Eminem, arguably one of the best lyricists of all time, the only person to ever make a rhyme with the word "orange," versus the maker of Gigolo, the most memorable lines of which are as follows: "I'm a gigolo, spending lots of dough." Oh wait, was that R. Kelly's part? Here, we'll give Nick another chance with this gem from the same song: "Not tryna be your man, pimp bones in my body, rock them body-hotty, rock them like la-dee-da-dee."

Yes, Nick, your pimp bones will surely help you win a fight against a man who made a song about killing his own mother. Use those pimp bones wisely, Mr. Cannon.

Dancing Christian Suspended

2009-05-11T08:40:00.000-07:00

Sorry for silence...finals week has been a beast. But I am back and ready to rant, specifically about the case of Tyler Frost, the 17 year old high schooler who has been suspended by his fundamentalist Baptist school (and prohibited from attending graduation) for going to his girlfriend's prom.

The policy of the school is no dancing, no hand-holding, no rock music, etc. Tyler's girlfriend goes to a public school that has no such rules, and he wanted to be her date. He was warned that if he went, he would be suspended, for "rock music is part of the counterculture which seeks to implant seeds of rebellion in young people's hearts and minds."

Sounds to me like the principal of this outfit has seen Footloose one too many times. Except they missed the message.

No rock music? I thought what everybody was so worried about these days is rap? Rock music? Really? Maybe I'm not the one to ask, but I can't think of one popular rock song right now that the kids are just dying to boogie to. I remember when the shooting at Columbine went down, everyone wanted to point a finger at Marilyn Manson, but is the music he's making really the kind of music that kids are hopping around to at prom? I thought they were listening to, like, I don't know, Beyonce and Lady Gaga. Isn't that prom music?

Regardless of what music was playing, Tyler Frost went to his girlfriend's prom. He probably held her hand. He probably danced. And Heritage Christian is pissed.

What is the harm, Heritage? Tyler and his family say that the contract Tyler signed when he entered the school agreeing to cooperate with their beliefs should only apply in school, and what he does with his life outside of the classroom should be his prerogative. I think that's pretty reasonable. But apparently Heritage thinks that when you're signing a contract with them, you're signing a contract with God himself.

Boys Will Be Boys?

2009-05-05T20:27:00.000-07:00

Something I am so sick of hearing is "Boys will be boys." This is usually said about little children (male) or about grown men when they are acting like little children, and frankly it's getting old.

A 4-year-old beats up some kid at daycare (or wherever 4-year-olds are) and takes his toy. This kid clearly either has, a) issues or b) crappy parents. But (typically American) rather than either of these things being considered---especially option B---the typical parental response is "Boys will be boys!" with the knowing smile, the pretend-exasperated sigh.

Now take a 25-year-old man (or boy, whichever). He is with his buddies. He has grown out of beating them up, and has matured into verbally beating up passing women. They can be in a bar, or on the street...a bar is more likely because he has alcohol to use as an excuse for his behavior. But he is unconscious of the fact that his parents have given him a timelessly convenient excuse since he was a schoolyard terror..."Boys will be boys!" Of course you can play an unwarranted game of grab-ass with the waitress: you're a boy, after all, and you've had a beer so what's to be done? The idea of exerting a little self-control is just ludicrous, of course.

It is this kind of language---normally used by women, unfortunately---that provides loopholes for jerks. By continuing the use of this phrase, we make allowances for not only a subtle misogynism, but simply a lack of manners.
The justification is that they "can't help it."
"It's their nature."
Men that engage in this kind of behavior transform women into animals, but isn't it odd that what is actually animalistic is that kind of behavior?

If I were a man, I would be offended by this phrase. By using it to describe myself, it would mean that I am a boy, for one thing, and not a man. Further, it means that I cannot control myself or my animalistic tendencies. I am little more than a canine wearing courderoys (or jeans, you get the picture). Further still, it would mean that a certain type of behavior is expected of me merely because of my genitals.

As a woman, part of a group that suffers as a result of this cultural expectation, I know that sucks. The fact that I and those like me are expected to, say, love babies and know how to cook merely because we have vaginas is kind of a bummer. Are we a failure to our sex because we don't like the idea of a squalling little bald thing that doesn't even belong to us occupying our space at a BBQ? Do we lose "girl points" because we burn our toast? Conversely, are those men (this society would paint them as rare birds) that do not feel the need to engage in physical conflict or ogle openly at women's breasts failures to their sex?

I would say not. And I bet they have the sense to be offended when they are told that "Boys will be boys."

Women In Commercials REALLY Love Cleaning

2009-05-02T21:44:00.000-07:00

Something I have always wondered is why the moms in commercials are so freaking happy. All the time. No matter what.

Their little terrorist of a child is drawing pictures on their wall with permanent markers. Camera pans to mom....the biggest grin you have ever seen in your life. "Oh, kids!"

The maniacal crumbsnatcher is now attempting to pour itself a glass of milk...on the kitchen floor. What's mom's reaction? Hands on hips, shaking her head and smiling exasperatedly. "What will my little angel get into next!"

The rugrat and its entire soccer team of other rugrats stampede into the house: dirty shoes on white carpet, pizza stains on the floor, handprints on the wall, and general domestic destruction. Mom? Oh, she's shrugging---"What can ya do?"---and grabbing a handful of paper towels or wet-cloths or whatever is being sold, and shows us that not only does she have nothing else to do anyway, but she loves cleaning up after her little ankle-biters.

Why are these women so unaffected by their childrens' lack of domestication? Not only unaffected, but downright cheerful. Maybe it's because she has a strong manly man's voice narrating the commercial and she knows she can't go wrong with the voice of patriarchy directing her about her household chores! That has to be comforting.

These commercials aren't realistic. I mean, seriously: do you know who my mother is? Do you know the fate that would befall me if I set even one post-soccer toe on her carpet, no matter its color? Do you know the grisly death that would await me if I put just one finger on a wall, whether I'd just eaten a chili dog or if I'd just washed my hands?

If these commercials were true-to-life, there wouldn't be any eery grinning blonde woman who lives and dies to wipe up footprints. There would be kids on their hands and knees scrubbing the mess they made with Brawny paper towels, or Pine-sol, or whatever, and there would be no omniscient male voice telling everybody what to do. What does he know about cleaning anyway?

Miss Cali and Her Boobs

2009-05-01T19:31:00.000-07:00

This just in....it has been verified that Miss California's breast implants were paid for by the Miss California Pageant.

I am floored by this. The Pageant rep is saying that they don't "endorse" this sort of thing, but that they wanted their candidate to have the best possible confidence when she went to compete for the Biggie. So they interview her and ask her a bunch of stuff about how she feels about herself, etc. and if she thinks she needs to be "perfected" in some way, they cough up the money to send her under the knife. In this case, Miss California felt that she needed breast implants. So the Pageant paid for them.

This is just gross.

The fact that the "best possible confidence" was achieved by inserting a foreign substance into this girl's chest is freaky. If they wanted to fund Miss California's little confidence issue, why didn't they write her a check for some counseling sessions? I mean, that's less painful right? And no swelling. (Although I guess some swelling was the desired effect...)

I don't know, dude, maybe I'm crazy here, but I feel like the "beauty" in "beauty pageants" should be natural beauty. I mean, it's a known fact that you have to be gorgeous with a great body to even get a shot---oh, and a virgin. But if these girls are all getting plastic surgery to better fit those standards (because we know Miss Cali is not the only one) then what's the point? Where's the supposed exclusiveness? Any butter-head can go under the knife and get sexied up. Sooner or later it's just going to be "Miss Best-Plastic-Surgery-America."

Poor Miss California...she went under the knife for nothing, because tits or not, she still lost. They should probably consider sending her to counseling now for sure...! "Wait, I have big boobs now and I'm still not good enough???"

Somebody give that girl a tissue, a breast reduction, and a good therapist. Oh, and give the Miss California Pageant a backhand to the face.

A Little Out of the Ordinary...

2009-04-29T17:30:00.002-07:00

Many of you will find this post to be a little different than its predecessors. I will not say you are wrong, but this just needs to be said. I have been sitting on this thought for quite some time (going on two years, actually) and have rarely voiced it except for in the company of those that I trust. I can't say that many of them were shocked---they secretly share my belief, I suspect---but they were perhaps a little critical of my terminology, etc.

I don't mean any disrespect, I don't mean for anyone to take me any less seriously (as if you already do...) because of this belief that I have, and I hope no one feels the need to start a comment war as a result of what I am about to disclose. All of that being said, here it goes...

President Barack Obama is a certified hottie.

There. I said it. I feel lighter for having divulged.

That is a good looking man. Never mind the graying temples, which seems to have captured the media's attention recently, nevermind the fact that he has a little 40-year-old belly going on.

Barack is a babe. Period.

That is all.

Imaginary Pirates

2009-04-28T19:26:00.000-07:00

Ok, when I say "imaginary" I don't really mean fanciful, entirely unreal, even invisible. So let's get that straight right away. When I say that I think the Somali pirates that are suddenly hot news are imaginary, I mean...well, I mean that our government is making them up. Or at least exaggerating them into modern day cutthroat villains.

I'll make this quick.

This sounds dangerously like conspiracy theory, I'm aware. If that is the case, then call me General Ripper, because I just don't believe that suddenly these "dangerous pirates" popped up out of Somalia and are, all at once, drastic dangers to national security. Now "experts"---unnamed experts, in the articles I have come across---fear that the Somali pirates' plunder is "used to fund terrorism."

Really?

When I read all of the initial articles during the crew's brave struggle and the captain's valiant sacrifice, the Somalis' bloodthirsty mannerisms, the only thing I could think about was, "This sounds a lot like an action movie." It seemed pumped-up to me, dripping with artificial American patriotism on steroids. It just stinks of motive.

I might be wrong (I often am) but while I do not doubt that there was confrontation on the high seas, I am doubting that we know the whole story. The U.S. has already exploited a handful of countries in West Africa for oil--not to mention the additional dozens of African nations we've milked for other vaulable resources--so I think that before we are so quick to use the big "T-word" on Somali "pirates," we should be asking more questions, namely this one:

How much oil is in Somalia?

Get Unobsessed with Obsessed, Please

2009-04-27T10:08:00.000-07:00

Someone told me yesterday that they saw Beyonce's recently released movie Obsessed this weekend and that they "really enjoyed it."
How? How is this possible? How could anyone endure 105 minutes of Beyonce looking vacant? I used to be a fan, I really did. I still like some of her music. But hearing that woman speak, or, even worse, watching her speak...I would rather be strapped to a table with water dripping on my forehead in a non-rhythmic pattern for weeks on end, with Celine Dion playing over loud-speakers.

Just Beyonce's Nintendo DS commercial is enough to make me beg to be put out of my misery. Sometimes I have the strength to change the channel, but other times I am held captive by her apparent mental handicap: unable to look away, I am forced to continue staring at her almost-autistic facial expressions and listening to her deranged sound-effects and giggles. Something is wrong with that girl. Unless her mother is within arm's reach, she seems almost incapable of coherent speech. If her mother isn't anywhere near---like the set of Obsessed---I have become convinced that Beyonce is fitted with an earpiece, through which Mrs. Knowles whispers in a language only she and her daughter understand.
And aside from the obvious, monstrous flaw of Beyonce as the lead, what's up with the plot? There is not one thing about this film that could possibly suggest originality: happy family + stalkery white woman = chaos. Yawn.
Dude...I know people are going to be pissy about another supposedly "feministic" post, but this isn't feminism, this is statistics: why are all these movies made about chicks stalking dudes, when 87% of stalkers are male, 1,006,970 women are stalked every year as opposed to 370,990 men, which is 1 in 12 women against 1 in 45 men? There is no possible way for movie-makers to explain away this trend. If they say they are trying to be realistic and stick to the facts, well, they fail there because I just showed you the facts, and the two don't match up. If they say they are trying to represent the underrepresented, the poor unknown men who are stalked that no one knows about, well, they get a big F there too, because there is no under-representation to speak of since every Hollywood movie about stalking is slanted the same way.
Why cement movies to this tiresome archetype? Because crazy women are more entertaining than crazy men? Because women are so un-scary in reality that it's a nice safe monster to portray in the cinemas? Because men secretly (and some not so secretly) want to feel like victims? I really don't have an answer. I just know that I'm not chomping at the bit to see Obsessed any more than I am raring to stalk a hot co-worker, statistically speaking.
But enough of that. If we want to keep it simple and stay away from theory, then I still am not seeing this ridiculous movie. I have been criticized for criticizing a film I have not seen. Guys...some things you don't have to see for yourself. Unless the trailer consisted of the only bad acting of the movie (which is nonsensical: I can only guess that the rest of the movie contains even worse acting, since they tend to pick the highlights for the trailer) then Obsessed can offer me nothing but a headache.

Uncommonly Common

2009-04-26T18:31:00.000-07:00

Common has disappointed me.

Along with Kid Cudi and the always-obnoxious Kanye West, Common raps in the song "I Poke Her Face," which takes Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" chorus and twists it into a odious (yet catchy) joint that goes on and on about (you guessed it) getting head from "bitches."

Really, Common? I expected more from you.

I expect this kind of nonsense from Kanye West and even Kid Cudi---so unfortunate that we have come to expect this crap---but Common? He has always been an exception in my mind, and at least creative, but "Poke Her Face"?
That's not even clever.

Is Common usually in the habit of calling women bitches? Maybe I'm wrong for doing some idealizing of him here, but I thought better of him. Now he pairs up with Kanye West and all the sudden he's saying "Bitch you should do it for the love like Ray J"? Oh, right, because "bitch" and "love" are often in the same sentence together.

People have always called Common a "conscious" rapper, an artist who actually thinks about social and political issues and makes music discussing and addressing them. But in "Poke Her Face" Common says "But they say you be on the conscious tip, get your head right and get up on this conscious dick."

Um...wow.

I'm not even sure I know what to say about that, other than the fact that maybe Common should be knocked UNconscious, and when he wakes up he'll have regained his senses.

Miss Australia Needs a Cheesburger

2009-04-24T21:42:00.000-07:00

It recently came to attention of the Miss Universe panel that Australia's candidate, Stephanie Naumoska, is on the brink of death. Okay, not really, but she could probably collapse at any moment: at 5'11'', this 19 year old weighs 108lbs.
Yes, 108lbs.
Apparently none of the judges or other contestants noticed (the other contestants were probably too busy being jealous of her protruding hip-bones) until doctors and dieticians red-flagged her, saying she was well under the "malnourished" benchmark.
How did this escape people's attention? Did they miss the fact that she weighed what I weighed when I was, like, 10 years old? Did no one notice that she was falling through the cracks in the floor and being blown away by the slightest breeze?

"Has anybody seen Miss Australia?"
"Oh, she's over there hula-hooping with that Cheerio."

"Like, omg, Miss Australia, are you pregnant??"
"Oh, no, I just ate a meatball."

This girl looks like she hasn't eaten for a decade. Her BMI has gotta be like 4.2.

Look, I know skinny is still "in," but this is just ridiculous. I understand that eating disorders are all psychological and junk and she looks in the mirror and really sees Gwenyth Paltrow in "Shallow Hal," but c'mon, Miss Australia. There comes the time where you gotta be logical: you know you're tall because you're ducking through doors, and, if you're like every other chick with an eating disorder and are obsessed with the scale, you know how much you weigh. BE LOGICAL. No matter how fat you think you look in the mirror...you're 5'11'' and weight 108lbs. Enough said. Eat a cookie. Or a crouton. Something.
Apparently Miss Australia refused to speak to the media...I don't blame her.
Her breath is probably all she has left inside her.

Cheerleaders Have Morals?

2009-04-23T11:06:00.000-07:00

An article about cheerleaders recently came to my attention (thanks, Wheatdogg!) and I am outraged. (Big surprise, right?)
Ms. Carlie Beck is (or, rather, was) a cheerleading coach at Casa Robles High School in Orangeville, CA who cut a few girls from the team due to too many unexcused absences and other various bendings and breakings of the rules on their part. One of the girls who got cut, one Adelle Geniella, got a little pissy and start digging up dirt. (Oh, teenagers.)
Unfortunately for Beck, Geniella found some.
Apparently Carlie Beck was featured in Playboy's "Cyber Girl of the Week" in February and Geniella came across the spread. (According to Playboy's headline, Beck is a "Petite Brunette Girl," and a "Hot Naked" one at that.)
Well, long story short, Geniella and her parents played the rat and the photos found their way to the desk of the principal. Beck lost her job. When interviewd on the Today show, Adelle Geniella stated that she "definitely lost respect [for Beck]" and "that's not where [her] morals stand." (Geniella the 13 year old cheerleader's morals, that is.)
Wait....what?
You're telling me that a 13 year old girl is lecturing me on morals? And not just a 13 year old girl, but one who spends her days wiggling her prepubescent butt in front of hundreds of people, in a skirt that my three month old niece would feel exposed in. I'll try not to get stereotypical, but I think more than just little old me can attest to the truth behind the name cheerleaders around the nation have given themselves: that nasty streak is exemplified in Geniella and her digging expedition.
But no, Geniella (and her parents) say that they weren't looking for retaliation. No way! They were merely trying to uphold the integrity of their school, I'm sure. These people have morals: morals that lead them to allow their little girls to participate in a "sport" where as much of their 13 year old skin is exposed as possible. These immaculately upright people can't have their daughters led by a--gasp--Playboy model! "We don't want them naked! .....just mostly naked." And these concerned parents just wanted to make sure that their little squad of skanks (oops, cheerleaders) is led by an equally moral person.
It kills me when people do something venomous and then try to cover it up with that nasty false concern. "I'm getting you fired....but it's only because I'm concerned about what kind of role model you are." "I'm taking away your rights....but that's only because I'm worried you can't take care of yourself." "I'm starting a war in a foreign country...but only because I want to protect our country." C'mon guys...everybody knows you're just being a jerk (or a totalitarianist, or a tyrant): no one really believes the Geniellas when they say they weren't being retaliatory.
But what is probably my main issue with this whole thing is the fact that the principal isn't asking how the HECK 13 year old Adelle Geniella got her hands on Playboy pictures. The media isn't asking either. Maybe they were handy in dad's closet. Maybe they get a subscription. But I doubt it. As I said above, she went on a little dirt-digging-adventure and managed to steer around the parental controls of Internet Explorer and surf her way to her coach's naked behind. No one is asking why a 13-year old had access to pornography. And even if her parents helped her, doesn't this say something about how pathetic they are? This reminds me of a certain mother who used MySpace to harass a girl her daughter's age. We all know how that ended: when parents stoop to their child's level, things never go well.
This is how this story should have gone: Adelle gets kicked off the team for too many unexcused absences and her parents ground that girl, or spank her, or whatever it is that parents do to their 13 year olds these days, take away her computer privileges (no porn to be found now!) and tell her to put some freaking clothes on. Carlie Beck--an adult, who can take her clothes off in her private life if she damn well pleases--keeps her job and maybe takes on some new cheerleaders who will actually come to school. Because, you know, that's what students are supposed to do. Come to school and do their work; not stay home and look at porn with their parents. (Ok, that sounded a little weird, but hey, I'm just stating the facts.)
Anyone who knows me (and most of you don't, but still) knows that I am no fan of Playboy. That's another rant entirely. But Carlie Beck is an adult teaching underage children who should have no access to adult material, so what she does in her private life is entirely her business. No one wants to take responsibility these days, especially not parents and their children: Adelle needs to attend a class on truancy, her parents need to get a life, and that principal needs to throw away those pictures they put on his desk---because you know he kept them.

The Ivy League Mole

2009-04-22T17:11:00.000-07:00

Recently I came across an article describing a 21 year old student (Kevin Roose) at Brown University who transferred to Liberty University—a school funded by the late fundamentalist Jerry Falwell—with the sole purpose of writing a book. He was a mole within the Christian school’s walls, attending lectures and workshops about the evils of homosexuality, the myth of evolution, the horrors of masturbation, and the general absurdities one would expect from this sort of institution. His book (recently published) is called “The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner’s Semester at America’s Holiest University.”

I must say, reading about this guy and his book, neither are what I expected.

“The Unlikely Disciple” is not an exposé: Kevin didn’t go in there to bear a flag or shake anyone’s faith. He honestly wanted a well-rounded education, as he felt that he had had no exposure to the kind of people that would attend a school like Liberty University.

Personally, I believe I can have a “well-rounded education” without having to cross social and intellectual swords with the kind of person who would say that the deaths of Virginia Tech students in the shooting of 2007 are negligible when compared with abortions. I don’t think that my grasp on my diploma will be any less firm as a result of not having shared a classroom with a population interrogating me about who or what is my personal savior, and whether I have feelings for men or women. Yeah…I think I’ll be fine without all that.

That being said, I have to respect the guy. He admitted to going into Liberty with the assumption that he would be surrounded by people “sewing Hillary Clinton voodoo dolls” and was surprised when he realized how normal they were—watching movies that weren’t Jesus-themed or G-rated, listening to rap music, even taking Bible classes to scam on girls. Now, to me, this all sounds very hypocritical, but I suppose you had to be there…regardless, they're human and I won't judge them for that (I just wish Jerry Falwell had felt the same way).

Falwell University worries me, but not as much as “Jesus Camp” does. Has anyone heard of this? A documentary following children and supervisors throughout an actual “Jesus Camp” in which children are essentially exploited to “spread the word of God” (and raise money, of course)? You need to see clips from this, people. This is frightening. I won’t say too much, only this: if the Christians in this documentary were replaced with Muslims, or almost any other religious group for that matter, there would be an uproar. But I haven’t been hearing any roaring, so I will take that to mean that what is happening in this film is acceptable to the general public. Hmm. That worries me as well.

But what strikes me about both the university and the camp is the fact that both feel as if they are somehow being victimized, that they are underrepresented and disregarded pieces of America that deserve some type of attention for their neglect. Jerry Falwell himself said he appreciated Roose’s acceptance in “a culture that has very little tolerance for conservative Christianity and even less understanding of it.”

Um…what?

I think conservative Christianity is given more than enough room in this country: the Christian assumption in the United States alone speaks to that; Obama himself was criticized for speaking along lines that were a little too monotheistic for some. This is especially odd when the Jesus Campers spend half the film talking about how if they keep growing at the rate they’re growing, then elections in America won’t matter: their numbers will be the deciding factor.

Who is underrepresented, again?

Kids With Coffee

2009-04-22T09:25:00.000-07:00

I am so tired of seeing kids with coffee. By kids I mean ages anywhere from 14-24: middle schoolers trying to look aged and world-weary, high schoolers wishing they were sophisticated, college students thinking they are sophisticated but still falling short, and then, for the graduates, walking around thinking they look very grown-up and mature now that they're out of college. I can't count the number of people who pass me on my way to class clutching their cappachinos, doing their best to look bedraggled. When I actually get to class, I hear the same gripe that seems the most popular thing to complain about if it's before 11am: "I need some coffffeeeee" they moan, "Oh my god, there should be a cafe in this buildinnngggg." No one even complains about the weather anymore--and I live in Chicago, for god's sake--it's all about the lack of caffeine running through their veins.
We're college students, guys. Isn't this supposedly the prime of our energetic lives? I thought this was when we were supposed to have the most energy, the most enthusiasm. I thought coffee was supposed to be reserved for the cubicle days of the future, when we are forty and hate our jobs and are on the verge of buying a motorcycle?
Apparently I was wrong. Apparently the excitement of college and, oh, I don't know, starting our lives, is a boring prospect. I can see a Monday morning cup of coffee...maybe. Long weekend studying--or partying--and you need a jolt. Okay. Maybe. But it's Wednesday. It's not finals week. What were you doing all night, every night, that requires the continuous pumping of a caffeinated beverage through your system? Maybe I don't want to know the answer to that question.
The purpose of the coffee these days isn't to wake you up, I see. A cup of coffee is like a cell phone, or an iPod. It's like a scarf. A cup of coffee is an accessory, it seems. "Check out my latte...I am SO tired!" "No way, man, I am way more tired: this is a double shot espresso!" "Oh, wow, hey dude, I think he has you beat. He must be exhausted."
<The owner of the double shot beams around the room with pride. He is now the Champion of Exhaustion, the elected king of caffeine. Just take a look at that Starbucks cup; take in that fantastic double-cuppage; look at that stylish cardboard ring. What a guy.>
Is this pack-mentality?
Given their class discussion, these kids aren't too concerned about schoolwork: what are they stressed about? I think what's giving them wrinkles is the fear that they don't appear stressed enough. You can't walk down the street with a cup of coffee and look bright and cheerful, like the Folgers commercials, after all. You have to look like you earned that coffee: you have to look like you're approaching a state of utter collapse to deserve the amount of Colombian-brewed caffeine you are forcing yourself to drink.
Paint those under-eyes circles on, kids. Drink up.

Idiot Sighting: Miss California

2009-04-20T13:48:00.000-07:00

Flipping through the news as I usually do, my eyes wander over Obama's criticized handshake with Chavez (get over it, FOX), whiners who make $250,000 and feel snubbed by Obama's tax cuts (rolling eyes), etc. But, wait, what's this? Miss California answers a politically controversial question at the Miss America pageant? Who knew these bikini-clad puppets could comprehend politics? I am interested. I go to my buddy Google and look for the scoop.
There is very little scoop, unfortunately. The interviewer asked the beaming, blonde and bimbo-tastic Miss California what she thought about Vermont allowing gay marriage and whether other states should follow suit. After a bright but nervous smile, our little ray of sunshine gives this answer:

"You know what, in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there but that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think it should be between a man and a woman. Thank you very much."

If anyone was wondering why California's Proposition 8 was running into trouble, here is your answer. Brainiacs like little Miss California are visiting the polls.
When she first answered, "in my country," I thought to myself, "Wait, is she not from here? I thought you had to be a born US citizen to be in the pageant?" (or maybe that's only if you're not white...) But no, good ole Carrie Prejean was born and raised and fed on spoiled apple pie. By "her country," she means the illogical, illiterate, ill-willed masses of idiots that seem to be crawling around like maggots in the guts of this country. Oh, Carrie's pretty all right: just look at those blonde hair extensions; take a look at that rack! Those pretty eyes, diamonds earrings, and that carefully-honed pageant dialect couldn't possibly be masking the lurking redneck within!

Oh, yes they could. Oh, yes they are.

Why are these people even allowed to answer political questions? If the question isn't "How do you keep your tits in that top?" or "How often do you dye your hair?" or even "So when do you think girls should start shaving their legs?" then it's irrelevant. I don't care how many books she's read; if she was smart enough to read, she'd be smart enough to get her behind off that stage.
I am so sick of the age-old excuse for pageants as opportunities for women to influence other women postively. Any positive message that is going to be sent to American girls across this country will not (cannot) be delivered from a blonde wearing a butt-revealing bikini and a My Little Princess crown. Period.

Apparently Old Ladies Are Hot

2009-04-19T18:39:00.000-07:00

Last night I found myself watching "Yes Man" starring Jim Carrey. I think most people are familiar with the premise...Jim Carrey's character is Carl, a man who says "no" to life, is isolated, etc. until he goes to a workshop in which he is convinced that he has to start saying yes to everything in order to live a fulfilling life. He commits, and crazy things start happening, of course. He can't say no, said the workshop instructor, or bad things will happen.
Now, one of the things Carl was saying no to was the occasional breakfast offer from his elderly neighbor, Tillie. She would pop up when he was leaving for work and ask him if he'd like to stop in for some eggs or something like that. He always said no. Well, after taking the seminar, Carl is leaving for work and is stopped by Tillie again, who asks for his help putting up shelves. Carl, compelled to say yes, agrees to help and we cut to the scene where he is putting up the last shelf and Tillie says that she forgot to go to the bank and has no money to offer. Carl, a true gentleman, says "Oh, it's ok, no biggie," something along those lines. But Tillie--all of 70 years old--starts getting frisky: rubbing Carl's shoulders suggestively, she tells him that she knows he has a lot of sexual pressure built up. Long story short, Carl exits the apartment and bad things start happening, just as the instructor said they would. Carl, taking them as omens, returns to Tillie's apartment and proceeds to get a blow-job. Dentures out. Against his instincts, he enjoys it. Later in the movie, one of Carl's friends (who has heard about Tillie's "talents") picks her up at a bar and takes her home for the same treatment.
Wow.
Tillie is 70 YEARS OLD. And we're not talking extreme-cougar-70-years-old. Tillie has the granny glasses, the cardigan sweater, the white hair, the wrinkles, everything. I think the actress herself is not that old, and the woman is not ugly, but she's an antique! Where does it end? Are even grandmothers not safe from sexual objectification? I know what all my whiny, "I'm-a-victim-of-feminists," "earn-respect-and-get-respect" lames are going to say: "Tillie was a consensual participant in her own objectification; maybe if she wasn't giving random blowjobs to her neighbors she wouldn't have been objectified, blah blah blah blah BLAH." But really...can we really say this? The woman is 70 years old, for god's sake. Have a little respect.
The scene is set up so that one would think Carl is the one being taken advantage of--she lured him into her geriatric lair, after all! She seduced him with her waist-level breasts! Be serious. Put your granny in this scene and tell me it's still funny. Not only do Americans have a fear of the elderly--or is it a disgust?--they have a fear and a disgust of their sexuality as well. Not only should Tillie not be having sex with a man as young as Carl, the audience thinks, but she shouldn't be having sex with anyone.

Wisdom is usually associated with the elderly--at least in societies with the presence of mind to realize it. Do we really think that Tillie would be whipping those fake teeth out at the first sight of a pathetic neighorly penis? Tillie's role in "Yes Man" was offensive, unnecessary, crude, and disrespectful. I guess "respect one's elders" has lost all significance in a society where even one's grandmother is subject to the brunt of boring blowjob jokes.
Sexism aside...hasn't this been done before? We've seen dentures taken out for blowjobs; we've seen men nailing unattractive women, some of them old; we've seen "cougars" and breaking beds and comedic "O-faces." What else? Nothing new?
Step it up, Hollywood.

Weirdos and Losers (It's so hard to be nice sometimes)

2009-04-17T10:35:00.000-07:00

Several of the responses to my last post regarding the airport Taco Whiner were along the lines of “Man, I hate traveling. So many weirdos.” In the past 6 months or so I have done more traveling than I ever have in my life—that’s what happens when you’re in Chicago and your boyfriend isn’t—and have, as a result, encountered more weirdies (yes, “weirdies”) than ever before, and have come to believe that we cannot truly escape weirdos. They are everywhere. Even if one moved to a desert island to flee from weirdos, she would become a weirdo in her desperation to escape them. Or—because they’re weirdos—they would find their way to her, peeking out from behind a palm tree and saying something awkward, or inappropriate, or just plain annoying.

But during my journey yesterday from Chicago to Nashville, I didn’t just encounter weirdos—and I definitely did: Taco Whiner, the man I shared my row with on the plane, who informed the flight attendant and myself that he had also purchased the seat in the middle of the row so he wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone, and other passers-by who seemed to exist only to test my patience—but read about them too.
Anyone who has flown Southwest knows about the SkyMall magazine that exists in the seat-back pocket in front of them on the plane. It is exactly what it sounds like, if you are unfamiliar: a catalogue magazine filled with harebrained inventions—often with the patent still pending—and over-priced contraptions whose uselessness rivals that of Paris Hilton. But worse than the inventions themselves are the little paragraphs printed next to each one, describing it and telling you why you need it. Whose job is this? How do they live their lives with any pride or professional satisfaction? My over-active imagination pictures one of two characters filling this position:
1. A sad dopey little dude hunched over his desk, pecking at the keyboard morosely as he comes to terms with the fact that, yes, his career is pathetic; his friends don’t respect him; his boss doesn’t respect him; his wife (if he has one) is probably cheating on him because he and his career are so pathetic; even his dog (if it hasn’t fled the home for fear of contagious wretchedness) won’t give him the time of day.
2. Just the opposite of the first with the exception of one big characteristic: pathetic. This guy probably types away grinning to himself, thinking, “Oh boy, am I clever. This just sounds so convincing: I can talk anybody into buying this self-inflating butcher knife that fits inside a toothbrush holder!” Number 2 probably is the kind of guy who thinks that the strippers at the club he frequents actually have crushes on him; he has terrible pick-up lines and thinks he is the smartest guy he knows. I don’t know which is worse: the idea of knowing either of these two people, or having to sit on the airplane and read their nonsense. I try to tear myself away but the train-wreck effect of idiocy is too strong. My eye is drawn to a little beer-serving machine in which you place a mini-keg of Heineken and pull a lever down to release the beer, “just like in the bar!” “Impress your friends,” the little paragraph says, “you’ll be the star host on your block!”

Is this why people buy stupid things? So that their equally pathetic friends will all murmur “Wow, Bob threw the best little get-together so far, guys: that beer-serving contraption sold me on it. Wow, it was just like a real bar. I am so impressed with his coolness and novelty.”

No. No, Bob. This will not make you cool. But, luckily, your friends are just as pathetic as you so they won’t even notice.

After writing this somewhat lengthy rant, the idea of fleeing to that desert island is starting to sound rather nice. And if one of the weirdos follows me there…well, it’s comforting to know that at least on a desert island there’s the option of feeding myself—or the weirdo—to the sharks.

People Are Dumb

2009-04-16T19:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder how certain individuals manage to get through their day without being beaten senseless by the people they plague with their absurdities.
Only today, in Midway Airport in Chicago, I was met with the breathtaking ridiculousness of a woman in front of me at a taco restaurant in the food area. First she requested the rice that was presently cooking on the back grill, and was told that it wasn't ready. She sighed and responded, "Well, I just thought it would be, you know, warmer than that stuff you're giving me."
Oh.
Well, yes, the fact that it is on a grill, above an open flame, would make that rice warmer. Yes, indeed. "Would you like me to heat up this rice with a flame thrower that I will next be aiming at your face?" the server should've asked, but instead he said, "This rice is warm. That rice isn't ready yet." She sighed and we moved on to lettuce.
"Do you have any, you know, fresh lettuce?" she asked. No, wait...she didn't "ask." She pleaded. There are so many women that feel the need to whine for things when they could just ask for them. But I suppose with such a whiny request, it wouldn't matter what tone it is delivered in. A whiner is a whiner, even if they are authoritative. Instead of "Would you like me to go to our uber-organic rooftop garden that is conveniently right behind this swinging door and pick it by hand for you?" our whiny taco eater was told, "This lettuce is fresh. This is the only lettuce we have." Whiny taco eater sighs and we move on to beverages.
"Drink?" the cashier asks.
"Um...well, do you have any water that is room temperature?"
Wait...what? Room temperature water? Are you out of your mind? Would you like the cashier to pour you a cup and then breathe on it for any amount of time necessary to make it exactly room temperature? We have a thermometer here if you want to test our breath-induced-room-temperature. We would even be willing to fire the employee whose breath was not hot enough to warm your water.
But no, "Whiny Taco Eater was not told this. She was, instead, told, "Um...we have this bottle of water that we only put in the refrigerator a few minutes ago. It's probably still warm..."
Whiner sighs. Again. "Ok, I guess that's alright..."
At this point I am sighing as well. And rolling my eyes. And sucking my teeth. She doesn't notice. Instead she asks how much her frigid-rice-decaying-lettuce-too-cold-water meal will cost. She gasps at the price and offers up her platinum card.
We're almost out of the woods, I reassure myself. Soon she will be out of my--and the taco staff's--life forever. No more whiny, lilting, bratty requests for rice or lettuce or water or anything.
The cashier gives her a receipt to sign.
"So much paper," Whiner whines, "you waste so much paper having people sign these things."
She tisks--who she is tisking isn't really clear at this time: it could be the paper, the cashier, or the whole planet who just doesn't seem to understand her desire for a hot-rice-plucked-from-the-rabbit's-mouth-lettuce-70-degree-water-paperless world--and I have to address each of my hands separately to keep them from immediately going to her tisking little neck.
During my conference with my hands, Whiny Taco Eater has turned on her heel and marched away, doubtless toward a recycling bin, or a Whole Foods, or a community garden where she will unburden herself of the ignorances she has enocuntered in the airport.
I turn back to the cashier. We meet eyes. She shrugs.
What else can you do?
I sign the mountain of receipts.

American Food Just Can't Stop Offending People

2009-04-15T15:23:00.000-07:00

Oh, Burger King. You just had to put a Mexican midget in your latest commercial. You just had to nickname him “Just a Little Bit” and have a ginormous American cowboy lifting him up to reach a shelf. Of course you weren’t trying to offend anyone, Burger King. You just couldn’t resist.

Burger King, was your advertising department on crack when they pitched this commercial idea to you? Were you on crack when you signed off on its release? Will we never tire of thinly-veiled allusions to American superiority? Will becoming continuously more obese from the ingestion of imperialistic pride never grow old?

You’d think that you would have learned last time, Burger King. I know you remember your oh-so-successful “what happens when you introduce the Whopper to remote and elusive villagers of a far-away country”—dubbed “Whopper Virgins” (I’m not kidding)—ad. That was a bust. Nothing makes me crave a burger more than the sight of colonization on a bun. Oh, Burger King…the Whopper Virgins website (yes, there’s a website: please don’t go to it, they don’t deserve the traffic) really did look like a real documentary. What rugged pioneers you are venturing into the jungles of god-knows-where to deliver the Whopper to those poor people. Who were they before the Whopper? No one, obviously. What were they? Nothing. You have enriched their culture beyond imagination. “Some of them didn’t even know what to do with the hamburger,” said one of our brave Burger pilgrims, “they didn’t even know how to pick it up!” Oh, that’s precious. They’re hard to find for a reason…they must have tasted one of your obnoxious steroid-saturated burgers once before.

Oh, and, briefly, let’s not forget another recent ovation-worthy Burger King gem: the awe-inspiring “I like square butts and I cannot lie” commercial, featuring provocatively-dressed model-types shaking their boxy butts with the King mascot and Spongebob—thus the square butts—and a remix of Sir Mix-a-lot’s “Baby Got Back” blaring over their dance moves. I know what makes me what chicken fingers, I don’t know about you: it's deep fried freaks jamming to an ode to big booties that has been denigrating women for almost two decades. So if it makes me want Burger King (pronto), I know it whets American children’s appetites, since this is a commercial for the kids’ meal.

Who else has American food offended recently? Well, we’ve got Joe’s Crab Shack with its tasteless “Take your top off” commercial—I don’t know which was most annoying, the male actor’s ridiculous line, or the female actor’s pretend-shocked face. Who are we kidding: is anyone really shocked anymore by unimaginative sexual innuendo in American advertising? Everyone knows you can’t sell a fish stick without a stick joke somewhere in there.

Who else? Carl’s Jr. pissed everybody off with Paris Hilton’s ass-exposing girl-on-burger porno that was released last year, then did it again with Padma Lakshmi more recently as she subtly shows the world her skills of fellatio—or cunnilingus—while eating a hamburger. McDonalds loves to “rep its street cred.” Taco Bell finally got rid of that freaking Chihuahua.

Can’t we eat in peace? I know I’d love to. Give me a taco minus the mini-Mexican; a sandwich, hold the porn; a burger with no booty. Just let me eat in peace.

Then again maybe I’d weigh about 100lbs more than I do currently if it wasn’t for all the food I feel I must boycott. Two sides to every coin, I suppose.

Outraged Owl: Naked Chicks

2009-04-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

As you will learn, my natural state is one of outrage. If your eyes were as big as mine---or if they were open---then you probably would be too.
I would have loved to have my first blog post be something of more substantial and earth-shattering material, but, in terms of outrage, I am voracious: the first thing my eyes fall upon, I gobble up. That "first thing" today happened to be a link on my homepage urgently alerting me that, my god, three women who I am supposed to care about (Padma Lakshmi, Chelsea Handler, and Eliza Dushku) are NAKED in Allure magazine! As I have very little desire to see other women naked, I passed up the link---until I thought about Allure.
Isn't Allure a women's magazine?
I followed the link.
Apparently I was not mistaken. Although not explicitly called a "women's magazine," Allure calls itself "The Beauty Expert," "featuring articles on skin care, hair, makeup, the latest anti-aging innovations, diet, fashion, and more."
Sounds like a women's magazine to me. And this is where I am confused.
If heterosexuality is the assumption in America--which it is, or we wouldn't be involved in this nasty battle over gay marriage--then why is a women's magazine doing this expose' on these three nude ladies?
It's not because they want to show that they're "just like us!" as so many magazines are fond of doing: there is not one stretch mark to be seen, not one stray hair (gray or any other color) to be found, not one pimple, dimple, or freckle. So that's out; they're not just like us, clearly.
It's not because they want to celebrate the beauty of the natural female form: these chicks are all a size 4 and under.
It's not because they want to rejoice in the many shapes, sizes, and colors of women: Padma may have a "colorful" name, but she's just as skinny and bland as the other two.
So why? What other purpose could Allure have for this triple unclothed interview? The only thing I can think of is that they want to show us what we don't have.
In the outraged web-surfing that followed, I came across a lovely little piece by Scarlett Johansson (yes, Scarlett Johansson) about magazines--mostly magazines of an even less credible variety than Allure--and their "perverse" (her word, not mine) mission to breed body-obsession in American women.
The girl's got a point.
A woman used to have a little sanctuary from all the exposed female skin that is consuming American pages and airwaves in magazines that were supposed to be "for us." But even on the cover of "Women's Health" I found a half-naked blonde with the heading "Get Gorgeous!"
So glad I came across that article...this whole time I had been thinking that women's health--the concept, not the magazine--was about, oh, I don't know...osteoporosis, female condoms, eating right, orgasms, exercise. How terribly ignorant I have been.
This rant could go on for hours, so I'll cut it short. If I am going to be seeing women naked in supposedly heterosexual women's magazines, can they at least be real women? Can Allure leave in the stretch marks? The wrinkles? The fat ass? I guarantee I would like Padma and whats-her-face a lot better.
And maybe even Allure. Maybe.