Politically Incorrect List of the Week

Things That Make Me Kind of Gay, a Little Bit:

--No matter what I'm doing or what else I might have been watching, if I stumble into the middle of "The Devil Wears Prada," that joint's gettin watched to the credits.
--I watch, and enjoy, "Project Runway" (Notable exception: My girlfriend's DVR setting interrupted the last episode of Hard Knocks last week. Yelling ensued).
--I like cats more than dogs.
--I've seen "Wicked," the musical.
--I have a Paramore CD on my Ipod. And it gets play.
--That "The Devil Wears Prada" thing? Same for "Love & Basketball." And "Brown Sugar."
--I read the first "Twilight" book. I could explain, but you don't care. Moving on.
--I haven't seen "The Wire."
--I have seen "Oz."

Pause, and if you please, no homo.

Breaking: Chris Brown No Longer Most Hated Black Man in Pop Culture

NEW YORK (AP)--In what social scientists are calling an "unheard-of" turn of events, polling data taken overnight has found that Chris Brown is no longer the most reviled man of color walking the face of Earth.

In a nearly impossible upset, data shows that recording artist Kanye West managed to wrangle the title from Brown following his drunken, childish tirade in the opening minutes of Sunday evening's VMA program.

"I was completely taken aback," said University of Florida psychology professor Gerald Hanneford, when asked about the poll results. "I mean what kind of son of a b*tch would ruin Taylor Swift's moment like that? Huh? Oh, yeah. Yes, well, the polling data was surprising as well."

"I think you kind of have to look at the situations at hand," said Caroline Chisolm, a psychologist specializing in women's images in mainstream media. "I mean, yes, Chris Brown beat the sh*t out of Rihanna. I mean, just really f*ckin laid into her, you know? [Chisolm repeatedly punched her hand while saying "Pow! Pow! Pow!"]. But, pfft, she'll be alright! What people really want to know is, where does Kanye get off stealing that girl's moment like that? That ain't right, 'Ye. That aint right."

The poll, conducted radomly among households nationwide, revealed that Kanye's award show antics solidified him in a state of near-universal contempt, soaring several places in the "hated black man" rankings after only a few minutes' effort.

According to the numbers, Kanye is equally as despicable as three-and-a-half OJ Simpsons, or as disgusting as a combination of two R. Kelly's and a third of a Barack Obama. He is equal in hate-power to a mix of a half 50 Cent and a whole Terrell Owens, though on the positive side, he tested slightly less putrid than two Michael Vicks with a dash of Isaiah Washington.

Reached for comment early on Monday, West said that his awards show shenanigans were just his way of giving back.
"Man, it's like, how do you really turn the public against you full force? These days, we're desensitized; It takes a lot to summon up a true storm of popular fury. I mean Chris, he tried, but how long can you really be mad at a guy for destroying the face of a young female pop star in a fit of violence, you know? I mean Ike Turner revolutionized that decades ago, we're kind of used to it by now," said the rapper, taking a gulp of Hennessy. "So what can I do? There's giving people drugs, but then again, Bobby Brown pretty much force-fed Whitney crack. I can't top that. Kill dogs? Been Done. Murder folks? Been Done.

"So I figured, hey, why not destroy the cherished dreams of this innocent young white woman? Can't recall seeing that done, right? And you know what? I was right. Yahtzee."

Asked how they would like Kanye to be dealt with, 23% of those polled said they would like to see the rapper publicly apologize to Swift, while 11% said they would like his music banned from radio play. A full 66% said they would like him to be skull-f*cked by a wild Grizzly Bear with herpi-rabies.

Lies, and the Lying, Souless F*ckers That Tell Them

This week in Politics:

As the ongoing battle over healthcare continues, the White House is attempting to switch gears and might be in the process of drafting their own version of the needed legislation--something the Obama administration had, to this point, avoided, due to the failure of the Clinton White House's effort back in 1994.

As Mike Lowrey would say, "Shit's about to get real."

You see, the longer the healthcare debate rages on, the more entrenched the GOP has become as a resistance movement; they don't have to fight a battle on the same terms, they just have to throw it off track. They're kind of like the Vietcong or Taliban in that way. You keep tryn' to go heads up with em', and they keep right on kicking you in the testicles.

Example? Sure.

The sitting President of the United States, as part of his administration's effort to reach out to children and encourage commitment to education, resolved to deliver a personal message to kids on what will be the first day of school for a huge number of districts around the country, Tuesday, September 8th.

So you know what the Repubs did? They compared him to Stalin. They accused him of attempting to indoctrinate children to his 'socialistic' (fascistic? communistic? zionistic? mormonistic?) political philosophy. They made sure every red-stater and Glenn Beck viewer knew that this time he's going after your kids, and this is where we draw the line.

Damn. Didn't see that coming, did you Arne Duncan?

No, wait, I'm still working toward the punch line.

You see, the people accusing him of this--Beck, hard-liner senators, Rep. Such-n-such in the House--they know it's insanity. Nobody with any vague grasp of Washington politics would truly be able to believe something that retarded-crazy (...maybe Michelle Bachman).

This is just how you play the game.

The strategy looks like this: (step 1) Sit down with a couple conservative buddies and some Jack and Coke (or coke) and see who's fevered, alcohol-fueled dreams produce the most insane, pants-shittingly scary visions about our Black Liberal President, up to and including noting his secret plans for murdering grandparents, opening slave camps, and creating a school-age Obamarmy. Voice those visions to all. (step 2) Note that you can't prove any of those things as true, but that the prospect "has you nervous". (step 3) Sit back and wait for the Real Americans (middle class-to-poor white folks) to start freaking out about how they're losing they're country.

Game. Set. Match.

See how we just completely forgot about the healthcare thing? Or how normal it should be for an accomplished scholar-president to wish students well?

Do you keep thinking about how insane it is that we can convince ourselves to send our soldiers to die on foreign soil fighting an unprovoked war, but can't agree to stop allowing insurance companies to rape us raw and kill our poor?

Welcome to politics with the Grand Old Southern Caucasian Folks-Party (Goskfuhpuh) out of power.

Man up, pussy.

It's Inglourious!

First post, and I figured instead of an intro, which would just bore the hell out of everyone (me), I'd get right to business.

'Business' being, of course, the discussion of shit I feel like talking about, and 'discussion' being my one-sided, often ignorant, somewhat petty written opinion, followed by a space for outside comment, which will, in all likelihood, be completely ignored.

To work, then.

You know what was amazing ? The movie represented on the poster above this text. You know why? Because Quentin Tarantino put his foot in it.

Now look, I'm not that guy. I don't worship at the altar of QT (as in Tarantino, not the exceptional motor vehicle service station/tasty drink paradise, which it just so happens I do worship at the altar of). I don't dig horrifying violence, occasional foot fetishism and white people freely saying "nigger" on their own merits.

In all truth, I hesitate to even include the man on a list of my favorite directors, and here's why: when a fellow Varsity Level movie-head ('cinephile' sounds like someone that sticks their man-piece in a film reel hole, and so won't be used here) wants to understand what kind of film man you are, telling him you love Tarantino adds about as much to the conversation as saying "Yo, Pac? He was the best ever, son."

The only reasonable response is a nod and a smile. Yeah, I'm hip, what else you got?

I mean, describe a film as "Tarantino-esque" and anyone listening will nod their head sadly with a disappointed "damn, I thought that looked good" look on their face--even if you meant it in a good way. Which you didn't.

The idea of Tarantino's style is now ubiquitous, underrated and bereft of it's proper impact.

Thing is, that ain't his fault. I mean, like Jay said, just go through his rap: "Reservoir Dogs," "Pulp Fiction," "Jackie Brown," "Kill Bill" 1 & 2, and "Death Proof".

Point out the weakest movie in the group and I can guarantee it did more to challenge conventional film storytelling than 95% of movies that year. Point out the strongest, and your index finger will be extended toward a full-fledged cultural hallmark.

No, it wasn't Big Awkward's (admit it, watching Quentin talk is uncomfortable) fault that anything "Tarantino style" is now regarded with a grain of salt and critical sneer.

It's the imitators that hurt the game.

The many also-ran auteurs that use all the Tarantino stew's meaty chunks and none of it's hearty broth and vegetables. It's one thing to use violence, foul language and general disregard for societal norms as a means to help create a distinct cinematic poetry. It's quite another to splash them haphazardly about on screen and expect to come up with something beautiful. It don't work like that.

[On a related note, f**k you, guy that made "Running Scared".]

NOW, with all that in mind, I just want to say that I think unabashed adoration is called for again. Forget the hate, the bitter taste you developed from QT's hyper-popularity among even the film illiterate, the aggravation you felt when every jackass with a camera and a dream screwed with his story's chronology thinking it might make his shit relevant.

Remember all that love in '92 and '94 when "Dogs" and "Fiction" changed the game? Time to bring it back. Why?

Because "Inglourious Basterds" may just be the most refined, tonally polished, and beautifully executed film Tarantino has ever made.

Ay, calm down there, fake Bible verse-reciting guy. Back up, dude with the "Bad Motherfucker" wallet.

I'm talking about another level here.

"Basterds," in it's comfortable, leisurely contemplation of itself--the long periods bereft of action, the thoughtful, reverent use of language as an art form in itself, the sudden, staccato bursts of gruesome violence used to anchor every conversation, the distinctly European sensibility coupled with an undeniable American machismo--it's simply a wonder.

Once Upon a Time In Nazi-Occupied France: A glass of milk. Hugo Stiglitz. Strudel (with cream). Wilhelm's son Max. Flammable film prints. A big damn angry head.

Who would have known these were the things that make up a... well, I didn't say it, Aldo Raine did.

A masterpiece.