True Urban Legends

this show’s so good, you forget that you already know how to read. morgan freeman was a literacy pimp. alert your friends and loinfruits, this programming is serious, son.

i saw Al Sharpton speak on the same night as i saw the movie Along Came Polly. what is the connection, you ask? well, wondering if i’m a “polly”, a freespirited gypsy, and also being sure of what i am committed to, i revel in the brilliance of the reverend’s threat (or appeal) to today’s youth to stand for something, or risk making some preacher’s job difficult at their funeral, by forcing him/her to “have to hallucinate a life for someone who never made a difference past his/her own life while his/her family is wailing in the front pew.” deep. also related is anecdote recounted by Gabriel Garcia Marquez in the first volume of his memoirs about the names and accomplishments of Colombian revolutionaries getting all jumbled up and the erection of monuments at random: “the story had circulated as a joke for many years, but I, on the contrary, thought it had been an act of historical justice to erect a monument to heroes who were nameless not so much because the lives they had lived as because of the destiny they had shared.” so, “even if they never name a holiday after you, and they never shut down the post office for you”, do some damn thang. commit to your local movements because they are going on around you. it’s a lot easier to just do your part than it is to complain about what you cannot possibly do.

 comes in the form of a keys player (and also from seeing a local one really play and say that he’s happy) but reading an older issue of wax poetics, bigup k for providing), i came across this man’s story. harry whitaker makes me wanna stalk people on myspace and stuff. the quote that made it for me? “money is no problem, it’s about how you want to make the money.” and voila the whole raison d’etre of this here blog, the whole premise of a true urban legend as artistic ones that live on and to do what they love and love what they do.

the america that i love that is. oooh, i was so tempted to jack one of his medallions for my journal, but alas and alack, i was reading his book for free at indigo (so not following his instructions for use) so many crucial topics are covered here; the uselessness of seniors, pet betrayal (“no more cat naps, from now on, man naps”) agnostics as atheists without balls, the first steps to integrating into a world run by apes (introduce them to pants), kegel exercises (“you might as well put a bear trap in a honey pot”), religion (“US is the only country that restricts cousin marriage, keep the senate out of your bedroom!” and “put the ’stud’ in bible study”), and raising kids (they “put the ‘try’ in parentry) but my absolute favorite quote of the book (i guess my experience with this is the opposite one as the jennifer lopez album): “you can’t spell book without BOO” (on why knowledge is scary. on a related and serious note now, the terror in school campaign (focus on higher education being dangerous, as evidenced by school shootings every two minutes and our subsequent de-sensitizing to them) maybe the reason that it has come into focus as of late is that it is “evidence” that we should not go to school, just a thought. ok, back to colbert-i also like the funzone dog balls matchup (it’s like he put this in there just for me! i know it’s a borderline sick obsession, but dogs’ balls just dangle there! so visible!) but what the heck is bob barker doing in that mix?! alright, so he has not changed the world with this book (yogurt is still sold in the supermarket!) but his coolness factor just went up ten points (kinda the opposite effect of stopping to listen to jodeci in the ’90s to take up techno) and either way, i’m giggling.

BOO to folks who hate on canadian hip hop, this man is not only the Truth but he’s the sweetest in person too (well, as in person as one can get on the phone). one day, we will meet and eat chicken sandwiches. you can sample the album on myspace http://www.myspace.com/shad but they way to really stick it to the industry is to prove it with your patronage, even though he’s so humble he’s telling us to “pirate me ‘cuz he’s down with piracy”…eyepatch and gold chain not required, but bring your brain, folks, bring it!

this is so the last time i listen to people. two movies in the last two nites (same hot date and completely opposite ends of the spectrum of reaction. i would start with the good, but i wanna end with the good, so i’ma start with the most recent. all summer long, everyone’s been raving about the movie “knocked up”, and i came this close (makes the thumb and pointer finger measurement) to watching this on a date (oh, sweet fate! thanks for coming through) but if that had happened, not only would no sex ever happen with that as a precursor, but much of the smoochy smoochy would have been averted too. i digress. the movie was an utter and complete nightmare. the signs were there from the beginning. it opens with “ooh baby i like it raw!”, and i’m thinking, really? ODB?! unexpected. then opening shot of sloppy, dirty white boys jumping into a dirty pool, shai’s all “what is WRONG with white people?!” and it goes from there. completely improbably upwardly mobile sweet blonde with huge tits decides to sleep with unemployed and juvenile CANADIAN (thanks, southern cousins, once again for the stunning portrayal of sloppy, effeminate, whitebred pot smoking long haired friends of Jesus, i appreciate it) jackass who does the unforgiveable and tosses the condom on the ground because he couldn’t put it on. OMG. this is how people die, people. the story gets bleaker, as every communication in the movie is one-sided and rash, the relationships (marriage, friendship, the people who accidentally fucked-THAT’S what that psycho speed dater was talking about!-and are trying to have a baby) are all “built” on faulty foundations. there’s too much doing what people expect, not enough talk of abortion (though her mother told her to do it) because this is seriously when you should do it, rather than bring a child into this mess. don’t stalk your husband, talk to him. don’t lie to your wife about your hobbies, tell her to back off. don’t just accept that you have to get married and have a baby with someone who you don’t know and don’t like. ugh. the puking, the breeching, the sex, the whole thing makes you just check your gag reflex, cross your legs real tight, and avert your eyes. damn. bigup for putting terrence trent d’arby on the soundtrack (though the Mystikal was a bit random) and for the best scene in the movie, which was the bouncer at the door of the club, who was schooling the hysterical sister about how he has to gatekeep and can’t let her in because she’s “old as fuck” and her sister is pregnant so that’s bad parenting. werd. oh, and the only asians in the film? the girlfriend of one of stoners who looked to be 12 with coke bottle glasses (though it was hard to distinguish, because she coulda been latino or indigenous…) and the very short and maniacal doctor. thanks, fuckers i shoulda watched Happy Feet. now, a beauty-full animated film about wild (ok, forest) animals (voiced by Wanda Sykes and Eugene Levy most memorably) who get addicted to human junk food and engage in a harvesting frenzy because they have been coerced by an opportunistic racoon (who’s working for a big bear boss) and battle the condo tyrants and extermin8tor, that is genius.

ah, the doll i used to refer to as “alien baby”, yes, there is one in house at Guu with Garlic on Robson (yummm! Thurlow, i see you next time, and Gastown, you will always be in my heart). a picture of seth godin will reveal that he kinda looks like a kewpie doll, which is another apt reason to call his book as such (see above), and i don’t usually read “bizness” books, but you can never know too much, right? ok, and yes, i still judge books by their covers, and yes, the Berri library is to bigup once again. but this book is a gem, basically an amalgamation of the man’s blog for i don’t know how long, but all i know is that everywhere he talks about, i want to go to, and i hope that that is how people feel about reading this blog. he highlights the coffee shop in new york (another reason that i like this book, and another reason that i want to go to all the places) where the proprietor charges a monthly rate for unlimited breakfasts, which is genius, because it’s all about finding products for your customers and not the other way around. all my underground magazine publishers, remember that. also, references are now irrelevant because you ARE your references, anyone who has ever Googled herself knows that. a final wise tidbit? “do the never”. werd.

so, the continuity isn’t that great (Stevie leaves to get married, after being on a date with the teacher played by David Allan Grier?, what year of college are we in if Clair is visiting after the second year and Denise is living in the same dorm with the same roomates?, where does Ronald come from?, the Denise/Dwane kiss, and why is Denise’s hair always straight when everyone else’s is curly and vice versa?) but there are still some jems here. Marissa Tomei as Maggie, the scatterbrained journalist/playright (hmm…maybe this and Carrie Bradshaw are some of the contributing images to “our” image…) and director of her rambling play “Adam and Eves” which pits Denise against Whitley (well, actually, this is the premise of the whole show, it seems..), nominating Dwayne for the Miss Hillman award for feminism (and can i now say that i was so right about that Kanye Wayne thing?), the Valentine disguise (er. Dr Truth, did you learn from this?), Neil from Y&R as the hippie peer counsellor, America as a space guzzler (Maggie’s body buffer zones), Whitley’s dad bringing around a younger woman, the nerds hooking up (aw yeah!), the lessons one can learn from a difficult woman, Lenny the ex-spy cum RA, harbouring the homeless white girl genius in Whitley’s room, and a pep talk from mom about how Denise is not afraid of failure, but of success, because it would mean applying herself. hmm…who said that? hint: “who are you NOT to be amazing…”

so, bigup to the Berri library once again for having the Boondocks treasury. now, not only is my heart conflicted between Huey and Riley, but Michael Caesar (Brooooklyn!) is added to the mix. (swooning over 8 year old cartoon characters sigh*). i don’t remember anymore what they are referring to, but the punchline is the best (ok, so i only make partial notes in my books, ok?) either Huey or Caesar is saying, “about as ridiculous as Nas “Escobar” saying he’s sick of rappers acting like gangsters”. solid gold. oh, and just because i’m a virgo that plans ahead, “Birth of a Nation” by Aaron McGruder and Reginald Hudlin is so on my wishlist (along with longtime “perfect gift” of a chandelier and a cactus). another forgotten Chicago allstar…