Flavor Flav…?

Last night, Ben Folds performed at the end of Conan O’Brien’s nightly show, playing his most radio-friendly duet with Regina Spektor, “You Don’t Know Me.”  I should have waited until the very end.  O’Brien’s first guest was Mr. Tom Arnold, who was tolerable.  But then, oh THEN, O’Brien and his audience were ushered into that ignominious realm of confusion known as “Proximity to Flavor Flav.”  Mr. Flav showed up wearing a Larry Bird Celtics jersey the size of a mumu, and, of course, his clock.  I understand that he is to be credited (if not thanked) for his contributions to rap and hip-hop through Public Enemy, but I found myself baffled by his every word and mannerism.  This situation rarely bodes well for my patience.  How does one have a conversation with a man who commands the audience to shout your name?  “Flavor Flav!” he commands.  And upon receiving their contrived adulation, he blows kisses at them.  Mwah mwah mwah.  How, um, affectionate. This behavior, however, shouldn’t be viewed as irregular.  Wikipedia informs us, “His visual trademark is an oversized clock hanging from his neck and repeatedly yelling his own name.”    O’Brien even looked baffled, and probably wondered why he hadn’t interviewed BEN FOLDS instead.  Still trying to play the professional, gracious host, he tried to change the subject asking Mr. Flav about his new dance.  Apparently, you can’t be a “real” rap artist these days unless you have a new dance to go with your new song.  We can thank (condemn) Soulja Boy for this phenomenon.  Mr. Flav got O’Brien to join him on the floor.  The dance was about as energetic as a a yoga class in a retirement home, and as inspiring as luke-warm beer.  He’s got more money than New Jersey (which isn’t Texas, but it’s enough); he should develop some common sense and disappear until he has something else to say but his name.

“Shopping”

A few days ago my sister and I went to one of the more popular shopping sprawls in San Louis Obispo to run a few errands. She was getting a necklace modified. On the way there, we passed a new shop that had opened, and I could tell just from the mannequins in the window that I would likely never set foot in such a place. It was an Abercrombie and Fitch wannabe, yet somehow even MORE pretentious. But Ro wanted to take a peek, so in we went. I noticed some sweatshirts which had interesting designs and were, moreover, made of rather comfortable material. I thought to myself, “If this is reasonably priced, I might invest.” A sales associate came over and tried to persuade me to do so, but the odds were stacked against her chances of success.

1. The sweatshirt was nearly $200. That figure put me through some mental convulsions, but I maintained my composure nonetheless so as not to be rude.

2. Sensing a tepid and less-than-enthusiastic response, the young woman tried appealing to my sense of popularity. “These are worn by a lot of the celebrities,” she said. “And you can only buy them at this store here, and down in Malibu where they’re made.” Ah. Celebrities. WHY wasn’t I informed sooner? Surely as soon as I put one on, the sound of the crisp zipper enclosing me in comfort will light upon the ears of some swarthy paparazzi who will abandon his Red Bull and dash after me wielding a Nikon with a telephoto lens. In just a few days, I could ingloriously appear on the front of some tabloid ‘neath the headlines “Some Dude Buys Sweatshirt in the Summer!”

I thanked her for her time and moved on. While Ro went to examine the jeans which where equally ludicrous in price, I meandered around, trying to appreciate the store’s layout, which was spacious, though not spartan. Confusing my appreciation for this and the air conditioning as a hidden desire to buy SOMETHING, our saleswoman tried again.

“I don’t know if you saw them, but we also just received some new Chuck Taylor’s,” she confided with satisfaction.

“Wait,” I paused. “You mean Converse, right?”

“Well, yes,” she admitted.

I politely excused myself and went to find Ro so we could leave and make fun of the store.

It WAS a really nice sweatshirt. Don’t get me wrong. But for $200, the thing should have come with a few extras like a turntable and movie tickets. Maybe parking validation.

More Irony

Down with the Simpsons, up with…scantily-clad women?

Cinematic Swiss Cheese

I’m writing this less than ten minutes into watching “Bullet Proof Monk” and, well, wish people would just feel free to make movies with martial arts unencumbered by attempts to have the movie make sense. Evidently, these Buddhist monks somewhere in Tibet guard this amazing scroll that, if read aloud, will give the person who reads it the power to turn the world into a paradise or hell. Right. And I’m supposed to believe that after years of guarding this source of “phenomenal cosmic power” they didn’t figure out that the fate of mankind and life in general would be a whole lot easier is they just destroyed the thing. Of course, for the movie to continue, no one’s allowed to be that smart.

Or “30 Days of Night?” If these guys are so worried about vampires, why don’t they just move closer to the equator? Oh no. Way too easy. The entire town has to stay there and die from hypothermia or by being chewed to death by armies of the fanged and evil semi-dead.

*groan*

New Milestones in Mediocrity

This man’s major concern is wondering where he’s going to to be able to fit his newly won television. If I had been in charge of the contest, I would have included special “unspecified prizes” like a gym membership, a Nordic Track, a library card, and gift certificates to an organic food store.

Islam vs. Teddy Bears

It has been said that religion is the opiate of the masses (Karl Marx), and as an extension of that, it should be said that people do funny things when under the influence of opiates of any sort. Here in America, we try and swing the two-edged sword of thought and humor against all such foes. During the day, hundreds of young students are recipient to earnest pleadings that they avoid drugs. But come late night television, our media sensations try and intoxicate their audience with the joyfully addictive laughter, and do so often at the expense of those students who did NOT say no to drugs, or still believe they’re capable of drinking and driving without consequence. Yes, I’m talking to you, Lindsay, Paris, Brittany…oh, the list is too long.

By way of metaphor, I say all this just to remark that I’m all for thoughtful, interfaith discussions. Discussion, however, usually requires composition and patience on the part of those involved. The Sudanese government displays something less than these qualities for jailing a teacher over naming a bear Mohammed. An attack on religion? Give me a break. I’ve been doing something thinking, and I think I can understand what they’re upset about. This teddy bear makes Islam (or at least Mohammed) seem too fluffy, loving, and tender. If the bear were, instead of being a school mascot, emptied of its stuffing and filled with C4 to be used as bomb, or perhaps equipped with an AK-47, maybe then it could earn the name. After all, how many suicide bombers have been named Mohammed, and had their actions revered by the same sort of people who, I imagine, don’t care much for teddy bears?

In America religion is constantly under attack, and to attack it is almost a right guarded by the first amendment. Shows like “Family Guy,” “The Simpsons,” etc. all portray Jesus, the Church, and our practices as ridiculous at best. Consider the first scene from the attached video.

Jesus turns water into funk. Ridiculous. And, kinda funny too. But the point is, Seth MacFarlane’s perception of Jesus does not come from supernatural visions, but with his interaction with the Church—with the body of Christ and its many members. When people crack jokes about Jesus, it’s more a condemnation of the poor way I’ve portrayed Him, and poorly I have. How can Christ POSSIBLY be glorified if I get all ticked off and beat them into a pulp (or otherwise humiliate them). Let’s not forget that when the REAL Jesus came to earth, humiliation was this guy’s middle name. He came to SERVE. He let Himself be crucified, holding back the legions of angels who were, I’m sure, sobbing, furious, and waiting for the chance to run Romans through with flaming swords. So when the Church is bashed, when our actions are mocked, when our bad history is brought up, for sins not my own, what else can I say but, “I’m sorry. Forgive me, forgive us, and give me another chance to love you right.”

I imagine that Jesus is not unaware of the constant cultural commentary surrounding his person, and I imagine that some of it makes Him even laugh while most of us are getting all worried about how his reputation is getting dragged through the dirt. Well, who’s dragging it? I wouldn’t be surprised if Jesus, once He has collected all of us, actually did turn water into funk, just to show us that He’s greater than the frowns I wear as if for his sake here on earth. But who do the Muslims in Sudan actually imagine Mohammed was, that he might have been so offended? I can’t help but wonder if they’re not more than a little confused about who they’re favorite prophet was, anymore than Christians are confused. But at least I’ll own up to it.

Long time no post?

President Chavez will be assassinated some time early next year.

Good for the world, or just good for Venezuelans?

Discuss.

The Saga Continues…

When we last left our warriors, the Apple and AT&T corporations were in hiding. they were defeated by the rebel alliance who developed programs that could break the bonds that these corporations had placed on the precious iPhone. However, the corporations did not hide idly as the world roamed free with their creations, as was written in the book of napkins by the prophet napkinini. They sat, coniving and developed software updates that would render any phone in the hands of a rebel, worthless, unusable, and “broken”. But the book of napkin gave the rebels hope.

The scripture reads as follows:

napkinini writes: My lawyer senses are tingling as multitudes of lawyers use their new iPhones to contact representatives for a deliciously huge class action lawsuit against the Big Apple.

The prophet, in these words, fortold that “justice” would be served in time, and that the wandering in the wilderness will soon come to an end for the rebels, and they shall one day walk onto the land of promise. But now, my fellow blogsplogians, that prophecy is FULFILLED!

Yes brothers, the corporations’ fate now lies at the mercy of a massive gavel. The world is watching, empire and rebel alike, in anxious expectation for the revelation of the verdict. We can only hope that the “prophet” will be able to foretell the outcome soon, so that our desires can be satisfied. It seems only appropriate that this prophecy come to its fulfillment on the prophet’s birthday. Happy Birthday Napkinini!

An egregious error in judgement

Ladies and gentleman of the house and senate. I have called this meeting today to discuss something of topical importance. Something that has been long troubling our society and something which, if not addressed with some immediacy, may find our country seeped in one of its most troubling ages to date. And yes, I realize that our country is filled with some dark times.

Oddly enough, we as a people tend to gloss over the issues most important to us in times that they can be easily ignored. Perhaps people in the seventies should have been more concerned with their tripling gas prices and frequent desperation for more fuel and excessive pollution. If they had been, than just maybe we would already be using hydrogen or some other type of fuel base to run our vehicles.

I have gathered you all today to speak not about the past, however, but the future. Where our country is headed and where we are right this minute and how this minute can affect the minute after it and the subsequent minutes that follow.

Ladies and gentleman of congress, there lays atop this country a plague. A plague of indifference to an important issue that separates man from his brother, and woman from her mate.

I shall cut to the chase, ladies and gentleman of congress.

We must abolish race in this country.

Utter Disgrace

Arnieasada, your Hitler post was the presentation of a picture providing a satire on Apple’s “Think Different” campaigning, eliciting (perhaps innapropriate) humor, since “Think[ing] Different” is hardly a virtue in itself.

On the other hand, your failure to use proper grammar in your most recent post elicits my most sincere disapproval. Please try harder Arnie. If I had a rankometer, you would rank poorly on it.

Jeege, clean up your act. The post may no longer remain there, but we all no your secrets.

We all know.