There’s a joke here somewhere. And it’s dirty
Posted on September 14, 2009
Filed Under food, japan, wtf | Leave a Comment
Nice one
Posted on September 14, 2009
Filed Under douchebag, music, tv | Leave a Comment
Why do I still want to like Kanye West? So the guy says a lot of stupid things, so he comes off as a big baby with a huge ego and no self-awareness. So what? If you want a “George Bush doesn’t care about black people” moment, you might have to tolerate idiocy like this. Still, on balance I’m pro-Kanye — I like enough of his songs, he seems like sharp dresser, and the blog he pays someone to write at KanyeUniverseCity.com is addictive. But this, from Sunday night’s VMAs — this has a lot of people screaming douchebag. And I have to agree. Douchebag!
Is there a term for this?
Posted on September 7, 2009
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The 1970s was a hell of a decade for film — I don’t really feel the need to back that statement up. Yes, The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, Taxi Driver, Chinatown, The Deer Hunter, even Star Wars — the list goes on, and they’re all great. But even genre films, and particularly Blaxploitation, were often pretty good. Shaft, Superfly, Truck Turner, Pam Grier movies — these are eminently watchable and re-watchable films.
Yet I’ve a nagging theory that there is a comparable genre of white cinema. Blaxploitation heroes were street-smart avengers, living by their own sometimes peculiar moral code, sick of the ghetto and sick of The Man and yes — it’s a cliche now but cliches have to come from somewhere –eager to Stick it to him.
Their white counterparts are more likely rural, far less concerned with any sort of social justice and more likely driven by adolescent contempt for authority. They are cowboys or good ol’ boys without horses — mechanical bulls and 18-wheelers have to suffice. Sometimes there is a well-defined plot or conflict in these films, though it is often trivial (say, moving a truck full of beer from Texas to Georgia) other times it’s an interior conflict — can this rugged nonconformist fit into today’s society or is he destined to keep fucking up? Oh, and unlike with Blaxploitation, films of this genre are often intentionally funny.
One could call it … Honxploitation? Usual suspects include Burt Reynolds and Clint Eastwood; country music is the soundtrack and country stars often play supporting roles. CB radio and moonshine help move the plot along. Here’s my list:
Reynolds: White Lightning, Gator, Smokey and the Bandit and sequels, Cannonball Run
Eastwood: Every Which Way But Loose, Any Which Way You Can, Bronco Billy
Urban Cowboy
Honeysuckle Rose
White Line Fever
Rancho Deluxe
Dixie Dynamite
Mother, Jugs and Speed
Thunderbolt & Lightfoot
Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry
…others?
Jesus unavailable for comment
Posted on August 31, 2009
Filed Under crazy, news, the jesus | Leave a Comment
Phoenix pastor Pastor Steven Anderson: “I hope that God strikes Barack Obama with brain cancer so he can die like Ted Kennedy and I hope it happens today.”
100 years of visual effects in 5 minutes
Posted on August 29, 2009
Filed Under geek, video | Leave a Comment
Things you weren’t meant to see
Posted on August 21, 2009
Filed Under music, nudity, video | Leave a Comment
Part two of Cocksucker Blues, the documentary about the Rolling Stones’ 1972 North American tour. It is banned, or unreleased, or illegal, or something — let Wikipedia explain. I watched it last night on a tip from Bill Simmons — part one has already been taken down. Part one was boring anyway — part two is where it starts getting interesting. If watching Mick Jagger do “Brown Sugar” in 1972 doesn’t make you wish you were a rock star then you have probably never wished you were a rock star. (Hell, you don’t even have to be a good singer!) And later in this clip there is a lot of nudity and silliness on a plane. You know all the stuff they said about the Stones back then — uhmm, it might have been true. Proceed to part three, if you dare … and before it’s deleted…
The urban cement pond
Posted on August 21, 2009
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This is pretty sweet — somewhere in Brooklyn, people are cooling off on this sweltering day in a swimming pool made out of dumpsters.
Excited about football
Posted on August 20, 2009
Filed Under advertising, anglophilia, porn, sports | Leave a Comment
Crate expectations
Posted on August 10, 2009
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Pier 57 on the West Side of Manhattan will be transformed into a shopping mall. Groan! Only not — this looks very cool. Design firm LOT-EK has submitted the winning proposal for a shopping area made of shipping containers. Inhabitat has more details and more small pictures.
Nutty buddy
Posted on August 9, 2009
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When Vibe went down, Complex pulled together an impressive look at dead hip hop magazines. Ballsy considering Marc Ecko himself is about out of cash. (Or has Complex solved the puzzle? Complex Media’s publisher says they have, but that’s his job.) Many years ago when I spent my days in the south Bronx tapping out biographies for a reference publisher, I was contacted by a budding publishing magnate to write a profile of Russell Simmons. I suppose I must have written a Simmons bio in the day job — I wrote hundreds of them, so I really don’t remember. Anyway this guy calls me up, says he’s got a magazine and he wants to pay me to write something. It was to be my first-ever freelance assignment, and I was frightened. The guy’s instructions to me were to deliver “a critical look at Russell Simmons’ business ventures in recent years,” which I thought meant he wanted me to say that Def Comedy Jam was wack and Phat Farm clothes were for suckaz and one of the architects of mainstream hip hop had lost his edge. My first magazine article was to be a hit piece. (In hindsight, that’s probably not what he wanted at all.)
Nonetheless I LexisNexus’ed the crap out of Simmons (or perhaps already had for the bio), boiled it all down to a dozen pages of notes, and made an appointment for a sit-down at Rush Communications HQ in (I think) Soho. I went in good faith, gained entrance, and took a seat in the lobby — trembling a bit knowing my mission was to take down this very successful man, to belittle his accomplishments in a magazine so edgy nobody had ever heard of it. And to think I had no cyanide pill under my tongue in case something went wrong. I sat around for an hour waiting for Russell, who had got behind schedule… and then was told he wouldn’t have time for me that day. And in fact he never did have time for me, which was ok because the young publishing magnate stopped calling.
His name was Barry Wade, and his magazine (really more of a ‘zine) was called One Nut. I had forgotten the name and thought I’d never remember it… but there it is at #2 on Complex’s list. Complex has it down as dead in 1995, which doesn’t fit with my story because I didn’t move to New York until 1997. I can only guess the magazine was dormant and Barry had dreams of bringing it back. Looks like Barry has gone on to bigger and better things.
Fond memories of the chat with Russell Simmons that never was, for a story I had no business writing, for a magazine that might have been dead anyway. Thanks, Complex.
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itchy
