Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The President's Just Playing Us at this Point

It's called the unspeakable. The event that every black comic has touched upon when riffing on the possibility of a black president. Murphy in Delirious describing Jesse Jackson working out in the gym, preparing for a perpetual motion presidency; Chris Rock's double in Head of State catching a bad one, etc. Ever since Obama entered the race a number of us have become de facto secret service men. I've stopped short of investing in the Wayfarers but I'm nervous y'all.

The next 8 years is going to be the Tom & Jerry with the baby crawling around the construction site.*

Every speech, the Iowa, PA, NH primaries, Super Tuesday, the DNC convention, election night, the inauguration. All were watched while wincing, happy but wincing. And the constant comparisons to Lincoln and Kennedy aren't helping. Sure they were formative, beloved leaders
but it ultimately didn't work out so good for them. Obama is nice on the microphone so I guess the Pac and Biggie comparisons aren't too far behind.

That leaves me on the couch yelling into my collar during the inaugural parade "Yo, money, get back in the limo". Or signing the stimulus in to law on Tuesday "Crazy armed redneck at 9 o'clock. Wait, it's a lamp...stand down". 

Obama knows were nervous and he has a better idea of how secure he is than we do and everyday turns to his staff like "Check this out...".  Which leads to him at the Ford theater last week paying tribute to Lincoln, come November he'll be picnicking at Daley Plaza. Right now he's on Air Force One pumping Aaliyah, John Denver and Buddy Holly on the system looking at the petrified stewardesses like "What?"

*Yeah, it's the plot of Baby's Day Out, too.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

White Women Who Look Like The 1989 Joker...Go!

First Lady Laura Bush? Wicked!
Jurassic Supermodel Janice Dickinson? Fierce!
Wild Orchid turned Meth Addict Turned Black Eyed Pea Fergie? Word!
Donut Pushing Tony Danza Replacement Rachael Ray? Say Word!






I'm Not calling it a Blog


Off the bat. I'm not calling this blog a blog. Don't like the word blog, never did. The root of blog is Web-log. Never liked web. Web, Cyber, Net, .com and the prefix e-, never liked any of these any of their derivatives. 

No disrespect to my host blogger.com they offer a wonderful service and all but I'm into aesthetics and blog don't fit the program. It's an ugly word, like "jazz". I like jazz as a genre but in a phonetic context, "jazz" is considered one of the ugliest words in the English language and I agree. 

"Jazz", an ugly word describing a beautiful thing. "Diarrhea", in turn, a quite beautiful word describing an ugly thing. A kindergarten classroom with limited vocabulary was once tested and chose "Diarrhea" as the name they would most likely name a baby. So, in that same context I find this (the hook):

"Blog" sounds like a slang term for "tampon".

As in "Jennifer, I switched purses this morning. You got an extra blog on you?" It makes me shudder writing it. I guess at it's root you have the "B, L and O" of blood and tampons are kinda log-like in their general oblong shape. 

So if you imagine the silhouettes of Morgan Freeman and Hattie Winston reciting the two...



If you're still reading, don't worry, as I contribute to this thing it won't be a running list of likes and dislikes, that would make it a blog as most blogs are just that (I'll eventually link to the exceptions.) And just because I spoke of tampons and diarrhea, please consider the context . Again, I'm into aesthetics and scatological don't fit the context either.