Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Long Live the Queen: 5 Shows for a Post-Oprah World

The latest on Grantland

You probably already know this, but I'm going to remind you anyway: Oprah Winfrey is big-time. Big. Time. She is a saint, an epoch, a tectonic-level mover-and-shaker. And I wouldn't need to tie a sentence around your finger about it except — get this — folks have been all "Post-Oprah" now that she's left a The Oprah Winfrey Show-sized black hole in daytime TV (RIP, crosses heart, pours mid-afternoon latte).

But peep: Jordan played ball in the post-Jordan era. And Obama runs the point in the post-Obama era. So, too, can Oprah hold court in the post-Oprah era. That's why nothing — nothing! — is chipping at the corners of my heart like this awkward sense that the collective culture at large is pooping on Oprah. Do not shake your head and tell me no. It's out there, I've seen it. I'd link except I don't want to point flashlights.

Oprah, dawg? We pooping on Oprah?

...continued...

Long Live the Queen [Grantland]

Monday, June 27, 2011

Sorry About Being Racist Before. I Know Better Now.

(Wonder how this cartoon would be updated for Post-Obama era... maybe the black character would stack up accomplishments, topped off with Osama's carcass, and get up on the platform that way. Then what would happen ???)

Courtesy of Amptoons; hat tip: Lucy StandUp

Monday, June 20, 2011

Tracy's Inferno: The 9 Circles of Tracy Morgan


I'm up over at Grantland today. As we jump into the more-brou less-haha affair from last week. Here's a lead:

See, everyone knows Tracy, but no one really gets Tracy; the loose cannon from Brooklyn is one of our prolifically chatty personalities and dominates in the war to leave others speechless. He's ethered the whole A-list of professional smooth-talkers: burner-at-the-side-of-your-dome, formerly unflappable Jon Stewart; get-out-of-my-throne, once-unstammerable Terry Gross; eat-this-blast-of-flabbergast, previously unflabbergastable Conan O'Brien. Tracy Morgan leaves them all shook. And after throwing maverick elbows to clear space like Dirk in the high post, he's also down to give up the body like Brian Cardinal and draw the charge and shift momentum. Clean or dirty (mostly dirty), anything for the laugh. That's why hoods respect him, hipsters adore him, and even pedigreed white boys literary types such as New Yorker editor David Remnick don't just like him … as Tracy would say, it's all loooove.

So, yo: Anyone can see Tracy Morgan has layers on layers, like a pregnant onion. Let's grab some three-ply with Aloe and let our eyes feel the burn as we decode the Marshall McLuhan of mixed emotions. Behold: The Nine Circles of Tracy Morgan, in ascending order of entertainment value.


(continued at...)

The 9 Circles of Tracy Morgan [Grantland]

Friday, June 17, 2011

Interview With A Man Who Never Moves Into the Middle of the Train (Bastardo!)

you know 'em. I know 'em. When will these people not exist? Here's the interview:

TAN: So have you ever ridden in the middle of the car?

Stupid Man: No, actually I haven’t. It looks so scary and dangerous.

TAN: There are millions who ride in the middle of the subway car every day. What gives you such reason for pause?

Stupid Man: Well you never heard the story?

TAN: What story?

Stupid Man: The story about the man and daughter who rode in the middle of the subway car.

TAN: Um, no actually. Haven’t heard that story. Please tell us.

Stupid Man: Ok. I will..... but please stop calling me "stupid man."

TAN: Tell your story, or I will destroy you, punk.

Punk: fine...

~~~~
scene dissolve …
~~~~

We open inside of a NYC subway car. It is crowded, but there is an even distribution of people throughout the car. We close in on a father and daughter standing and talking in the middle of the car. The father is explaining to his daughter why thinking about others and being respectful is the thing to do. Being considerate. Being a nice person. Being aware. All good. We zoom in and listen in on their conversation:
For example, honey. You know when we cross the street, and how all the cars wait for us to pass? That is because they are being respectful of others. Theoretically. You remember that word, right honey? Thee-o-ret-ick-ally. Well theoretically, those cars could just fly straight at us and run us over and kill us.

Kill us daddy?

Yes, honey. Kill us. But because they are nice and respectful of others. And because we made laws. We get to cross the street safe and sound, and then go home and eat ice cream!!!

I like ice cream! Thee-o-ret-ick-ally.

No, honey. I think you definitely like ice cream.

Wednesday, June 01, 2011

TAN Will Not Be In The Next Lupe Fiasco Video



(my homey in this video is the same homey I mention in this old post about bailing on a lupe fiasco video. now he's doing commercials, getting his hollywood hustle on. take note, couch surfers. stay on your grizzly, and things can happen! all of us, lupe, myself, calkutta (waddup, c!) have experienced some evolution. some love. some attention. some scrilla. but I bet we're all also in the boat of feeling like we're just getting started. funny how that works. anyBoost, cool story brah, seeing someone you met along the road doing their thing.)

ORIGINAL:

So I have this guy staying with me, and he works at Atlantic, record label for Lupe Fiasco, artist behind the song Kick, Push. If my caucasian peeps have been slow getting up to speed on that, you might also know Lupe from Kanye's Touch The Sky.

So he lets me know they're shooting Lupe's video yesterday, and I could come down. Maybe get in the piece. Talk to some people. Etc. Etc. Ultimately, if you're living on the margins in NYC, and you're in this sort of business, these are the sorts of opportunities you pay the premium price for. To be where things are happening. And then see what happens. If you're not taking advantage then paying the NYC cost-of-living is silly.

But I think if you're an artist, it's easy to shy away from the "fandom" in such scenarios. I'm a fan of a lot of things, but the phrase "art over artists" has been repeating in my head the last year or two (not repeatedly, just off-and-on) and it means that I really admire, worship, idolize the art, not the artist. The product/track, not the producer. I could care less about Apple, but I love my ibook. It's not the individual creator, because we're all the same. It's their particular creation. Meeting Lupe Fiasco is cool, but if he's not going to perform Kick, Push for me, it's kind of like whatever. Same odds of me getting along with him apply to anyone (those odds are reasonably good by the way).

Her Name Is Paris, Mrs. Jackson If You're Nasty


This photo. Still an insta-TAN classic. I don't want a celebrity-hollywood machine if we can't make THIS happen:

1. I don't think they look bad together. Like sometimes an interracial couple looks a little forced and affirmative-actioney. Like the cornfields of Nebraska girl holding hands with a harlem hood type ... that's questionable. But these two, not so bad. Young, sophisticated, urban ... we can work with this.

2. I love the name Paris Jackson. That's hot. I might name my child that regardless (no MJ). Curtis Hilton's not so bad either.

3. Professional synergy.
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