Blogging on Meds

This is rich. Apparently, Bjork’s music might cause a revolution:

Foreign entertainers who have taken part in activities that China deems a threat to its sovereignty will not be allowed to perform here, according to new rules posted Thursday on the Web site of the Ministry of Culture.

…

The rules on performers may have come about after an outburst in March by Bjork, the popular Icelandic singer. She used a concert in Shanghai to advocate Tibetan independence. She shouted “Tibet! Tibet!” after performing “Declare Independence,” a song from her 2007 album, “Volta.” The outcry drew sharp criticism from Chinese Internet users and praise from international supporters of an independent Tibet.

AP

I’m not going to condone felony hit-and-run on the 55 in a monster truck. Nor am I going to make light of driving said monster truck (complete with a giant picture decal of yourself) down the wrong way of a crowded Balboa street “causing pedestrians to flee in terror.” Running red lights, crashing into cars, driving on the median and almost killing innocent people in Newport Beach… none of these things constitute normal behavior. I can’t even begin to speculate on what caused the UFC and PRIDE fighter, Quinton “Rampage” Jackson to freak out like this last Tuesday, but I sincerely feel for him.

It’s easy for even the most compassionate people to dismiss a guy like this. He beats people up for a living, he’s testosterone personified, a giant ego with a giant truck to match… I get it. They attribute his actions to steroids and/or drugs and claim it was his choice but don’t bother ask if there could be a bigger, more complex problem that not only made this possible but even probable.

I met Quinton after I moved to Huntington Beach, California around early 2000. I was running my gear company, called Next Level – designing and marketing merchandise and starting to sponsor fighters. I was also training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu almost full-time and backstage at a lot of fights. A bunch of gyms at the time were either in location limbo or wrapped up in partner politics, so I was a constant visitor to several simultaneously around Orange County and LA. Quinton had moved to HB recently as well, his goal was to become a professional fighter but he was basically living in his car he was so broke. But he was always a nice guy that never complained, he was never too good to learn from anybody smaller or less experienced than him, never too prideful to ask for help, never too egotistical to see his own flaws and never too tired to work. He got hyped when you caught him in a knee-bar and was quick to congratulate you, but he would only let it happen once (true story). When it became pretty obvious that all the pros were buzzing about him and those top pros that visited were starting to get their asses kicked by him in training, he still talked humbly about his aspirations and his kids. He later beat almost all of those pros in Pride and UFC rising quickly to the top.

It’s fair to ask if steroids or drugs were involved when it pertains to the mixed martial arts world - steroids are fairly common throughout the professional social ranks and the in-crowd of hobbyist fighters in the United States and even more in countries like Brazil and Japan where the sport is absolutely huge and winners are national heroes. Up until somewhat recently, MMA was considered an outlaw’s sport in the U.S. with ex-military fighters from fallen third-world countries (where drugs and roids are plentiful) and old-school juicers dominating the top international levels of the sport. Sympathizers of Baseball’s (or cycling’s) steroid problem take notice - all excuses apply, ie: the pressure is too much, everybody’s doing it, can’t be competitive without it, we’ve got hungry mouths to feed, etc. The most serious painkillers are around too; you just have to ask anybody on the mat if they know a good sports medicine doctor and you’ll soon be drugged up enough to giggle through arm-lock training with your torn rotator cuff.

See Mark Kerr shooting up opiates in the HBO documentary “The Smashing Machine” or Rico Rodriguez’s first episode on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew for good examples.

A couple of weeks ago, Quinton lost the UFC Light Heavyweight Championship to Forrest Griffin. Then Tuesday something we don’t yet understand obviously triggered Rampage to freak out. We don’t know if it was drugs, roids, depression or some other serious problem but in time we will find out the truth. If you’re so quick to judge Rampage as guilty of his own vices and condemn him to bad karma, you should have your “compassionate” card pulled.

Dana White, President of the company that owns the UFC was on a plane reportedly in 17 minutes to help. To the best of my knowledge, companies don’t usually show that kind of love for their employees and that might just be what this industry and many others need. After being released on $25,000 bail on Tuesday, Quinton was 5150’ed (committed to a mental hospital) for a three-day mental evaluation on Wednesday. White mentioned that Quinton been fasting - drinking only energy drinks and effectively not sleeping for a few days straight.

Before we move on to labeling Quinton “crazy” let’s just slow down and compare this to other famous freak-outs. If Quinton were a comedian, where would your prejudices lean? After Dave Chappelle walked away from like $50 million with Comedy Central and went to Africa, the press and the public called him crazy only when they weren’t alleging hard drug abuse. After the dust settled, Dave came back for an interview on Inside The Actor’s Studio where he used the example of Martin Lawrence to put this subject into perspective. “The worst thing to call somebody is crazy, it’s dismissive,” Chappelle said. Dave asked how Martin Lawrence, having survived great success and a stroke with a smile ended up screaming on the street waving a gun? Seems like a valid question to me.

“These people are not crazy. They are strong people. Maybe the environment is a little sick.” Chappelle said

Indeed, my forecast was correct. LiRon were on NY’s Lower East Side last night. It was the couple’s first public appearance since Lindsay’s (semi) official de-closeting earlier in the week via Mark Ronson’s girlfriend and Life and Style Magazine. Here are some are pics from the event (Sephora 10 Year Anniversary Party—an orgy of really bad outfits saved by lesbian beauty). People can hate Lohan all they want, but having one of the most visible young actresses on earth acting unashamedly gay is a net positive for America. Homophobia is the lamest concept, especially considering how many of the very same straight men who hate the gays are into anal sex with their wives, and I hope LiRon take this chance in the spotlight to showcase lesbianism as a healthy, normal lifestyle—one that even saves druggy starlets from career suicide.  

172 Norfolk, the haunted house of Richard Price’s Lush Life, hosted LiRon last night…

Breaking the law at Beatrice

Did you know you can only legally dance at 181 places in New York City? Yup, the lamest and most violated law ever (besides pot’s illegal status) may finally end. Mayor Bloomberg’s office is moving to reverse the 1926 Cabaret Law that requires any venue with “more than three people dancing” to have a permit, called a cabaret license, of which there are less than 200.

In a city with 10,000 bars and 8 million insane horn-dogs, dancing’s illegality always made zero sense. Let’s all get drunk at 3am and…stand around staring at each other or talking about nothing. Drunken convos are so overrated. Of course, it was only after Rudy G’s “Quality of Life” campaign that the Cabaret Law started being enforced.

Cheers to Bloomberg! The end of the Cabaret Law would offer many more DJ gigs and cut down your pointless drunk conversations by at least 60%. Soon, I may never have to hear about the company or magazine or “eco-friendly sustainable co-op” you’re (not) starting—I’ll be able to just dance away.

Via NYDN:

“We either want to eliminate the license or establish a different license so that it would be less onerous for people to engage in dancing,” said a source close to the mayor.

The 82-year-old license “as it exists doesn’t offer a reasonable opportunity for New Yorkers to dance at clubs,” the City Hall source said.

As the 1926 law stands, three or more people can’t dance unless a bar or restaurant has a cabaret license - even if music and liquor are allowed.

There are 181 licensed cabarets in New York, according to Consumer Affairs, and most are limited to techno-thumping clubs in Manhattan.

But dancers have long complained the license process squeezes out small venues that might offer swing and salsa and even sued the city last year to reverse its Prohibition-era ban on social dancing.

The strange tale of Max Mosley, the head of Formula One, who was caught on video in a Nazi-themed sex orgy with five prostitutes, gets stranger. He’s suing the News of the World, which secretly videotaped the orgy, for an invasion of privacy. Mosley claimed that he was doing something in private with five consenting women, and the only reason he’s under fire is because his father was the leader of the British Union of Fascists and Hitler’s friend.

Mr Mosley was caught on video by the News of the World with five women in an underground “torture chamber” in Chelsea, where he spent several hours allegedly indulging in sado-masochistic sex. The Oxford-educated former barrister, who is president of the Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA), reenacted a concentration camp scene in which he played the role of both guard and inmate. Speaking in German and brandishing a leather whip, he beat the women after allowing himself to be subjected to a humiliating inspection for lice and an interrogation in chains.

In his defense, Mosley said that he could think of “few things more unerotic than Nazi roleplay.” Clearly, he’s never heard of stalags.

Last night Jigga headlined the biggest greenfield music festival in the world and decided that he’d start by responding to the irrelevant and bloated Noel Gallagher for saying that brothers shouldn’t be rapping at this storied fest.

First video footage of Noel’s remarks dissing Jay lit up the greens and then Hova rolled out with a shit eating Joe Camel grin “playing a guitar” (in the same way Weezy plays a guitar) doing his rendition of the Oasis hit Wonderwall. He was off-key and smirking but it was a nice fuck you and tribute. I ended up at a party above the Spotted Pig about 2.5 years ago that was essentially an empty living room with 5 record executives, 20 white chicks, two sistahs and Jigga. I guess it was to celebrate something, we shouldn’t have been there but myself, Karaoke Ryan and Galle® ended up at this private party where Jigga was putting on a clinic, dancing with chubby white chicks, leading the Electric Slide and playing favorites from his iPod including Coldplay, Phil Collins, and Amy Winehouse , complete with waving his finger that looked like a black tree branch for the “No No No” refrain and also rapping over his own songs to the small crowd. He also dropped his own verse over Mims’ This Is Why I’m Hot, my white brain couldn’t believe that I was seeing Jigga spitting in front of me, literally spitting on white dudes as he rambled and flowed.

I did my best to hide the Michael Mann-esque light my cell phone emits mid-text messaging but I had to fire off the details of this encounter to at least have a breakdown of what I was seeing if vodka and piff clouded my recollection the next day. There was one moment of struggle that night; in my head I’m an honorary member of Dipset since I’ve chosen to side with them over 50’s Vitamin Water empire. I felt slightly guilty for being there since Cam’s diss of Jay and his open toed sandals was still buzzing in my speakers. I scanned the room and noticed that there were no body guards among the small crowd, maybe I should text message Killa, maybe I should call the Goons? Jigga was easy prey for my favorite rap conglomerate. The problem with being an honorary member is that you don’t have anyone’s actual number so I convinced myself I was a DIP-SPY keeping tabs on old head and I’d report any suspicious activities to Jim Jones’ myspace if necessary.

Wonderwall was the closer, it was Papelbon irish jigging his way to the mound that night. Jay queued up the iPod and a familiar jangle came out of the speakers, he parted the crowd and motioned towards the only “rock niggas” there which happened to be the three scruffy honks that shouldn’t be there. The nostrils were flared, lungs pushing out strained notes with a grin and a battle cry of “ROCK N ROLL NIGGAZZZZZZZ” was unleashed as I stood there, arms draped on my comrades trying to detune my vocal chords so I was out of tune in unison with Jigga as a show of unity.

We split after that because honestly unless Giselle came in and gave me a foot-rub while Tom Brady told me I had a stronger chin than him there was nothing left to do.

As I’ve said before, Jay is a performer now, his records only have a few good songs now but if it’s a vehicle for him to put on spectacles like this I will continue to pay retail for them. The guitar, the head bobbing to Coldplay with Ricky Gervais are ridiculous, semi-embarrassing but ultimately cool somehow and much more interesting that some recycled grumbling from a guy named Noel who can’t write a good song anymore, he can’t even guest on a tune and make it cool.

Roc Boys in the building. Peep it here.

Jay-Z Kills Wonderwall

One of Med’s contributors, Anthony Pappalardo, has been working for years on the definitive monograph concerning American hardcore’s aesthetics. Radio Silence: A Selected Visual History of American Hardcore Music (MTV Books) saw its  Amazon listing go live last night. Awesome! So everyone, pass this around and get the pre-orders buzzing. From Amazon:

Book Description
“Each scene was a reflection of its time and place. It was organic to each city.” (Dave Smalley, DYS, Dag Nasty, All, Down By Law) Hardcore music emerged just after the first wave of punk rock in the late 1970s. American punk kids who loved the speed and attitude of punk took hold of its spirit, got rid of the “live fast, die young” mindset, and made a brilliant revision: hardcore. The dividing line between punk and hardcore music was in the delivery: less pretense, less melody, and more aggression. This urgency seeped its way from the music into the look of hardcore. There wasn’t time to mold your liberty spikes or shine your Docs; it was jeans and T-shirts, Chuck Taylors and Vans. The skull and safety-pin punk costume was replaced by high-tops and hooded sweatshirts. The Jamie Reid ransom note record cover aesthetic gave way to black and white photographs of packed shows accompanied by bold and simple typography, declaring The Kids Will Have Their Say or You’re Only Young Once. This new come-as-you-are attitude attracted skateboarders, surfers, BMX’rs, metalheads, and graffiti writers, with each group adding their diverse influences to the scene. This cross-pollination helped to create an eclectic cross section of bands like Bad Brains, Negative Approach, SSD, Big Boys, and 7 Seconds. Radio Silence documents the ignored space between the Ramones and Nirvana through the words and images of the pre-internet era when this community built on do-it-yourself ethics thrived. Without funding, distribution, or exposure, the scene had to be self-sufficient in order to grow. Everyone involved from bands to fans took it upon themselves to book shows, photograph bands, broadcast pirate radio shows, start record labels, design album covers, publish fanzines, or just offer a place for a band to crash. Authors Nathan Nedorostek and Anthony Pappalardo have cataloged private collections of photographs, personal letters, artwork, and various ephemera from the hardcore scene circa 1978-1993. Unseen images accompany to handmade T-shirts and original artwork brought to life by the words of their creators and fans. Radio Silence includes over 500 images of rare records, T-shirts, fanzines, photographs, and illustrations presented in a manner that abandons the aesthetic clichés normally used to depict the genre and lets the subject matter speak for itself.

About the Author
Anthony Pappalardo wrote for Slap Magazine from 1997 to 2002 and has been published in Alternative Press, Mass Appeal, and Magnet. He’s toured and recorded albums for the hardcore bands Ten Yard Fight, In My Eyes, and Get Down, and has produced for other bands including The Explosion.

Many of the monograph’s photos were taken by Erik Lee Snyder, whose work led the Getty Pavilion at the 2008 New York Photography Fair and has appeared in ESPN the Magazine and Surface among others. Below, a Dischord Records collage and portrait of Minor Threat’s Jeff Nelson…

I don’t have much time to write about this and I couldn’t do it even half as well as others currently are, instead here’s some videos from one of the greatest comedian and social commentators we’ve ever had. A genius.

The Pogues “Just Look Them Straight In The Eye and Say… Pogue Mahone!!” Box Set has finally been released. I won’t properly “review” it due partly to personal time constraints, and partly because no amount of my adulation and praise will likely get you to drop the price of a tank of gas (at current prices) on a 5 CD box set unless you’re already obsessed with the band.

That said, if you do happen to be a Pogues fanatic, your year has been made. 111 songs. An absolute goldmine of demos, outtakes, live, rare, unreleased, thought missing, cover songs, and the like that span the entire Pogues career (pre-Red Roses to post-Shane) — I only bought it yesterday, but during a once-through listen of the entire thing my jaw continually dropped; BBC Sessions, “Hell’s Ditch” outtakes, “If I Should Fall From Grace…” outtakes, Joe Strummer-fronted covers of The Clash songs, Peel Sessions, their contributions to the “Sid and Nancy”, “Straight to Hell” , and “Garbo” soundtracks, covers of “Maggie May”, “Do You Believe in Magic?” (a “Poguetry in Motion sessions outtake), “Eve of Destruction” (made famous to some by Barry McGuire, others by Johnny Thunders), a dub version of “Young Ned of the Hill” (!), the original demo versions of later Shane MacGowan solo songs (”Victoria”, “Aisling”, “The Donegal Express”), early demos of “Fairytale of New York” which showcase the musical and lyrical progression of the greatest Christmas song ever written, the list goes on and on and on… Philip Chevron wrote the liner notes, the songs and their provenance are exhaustively cataloged and the proper credit given, and a number of non-Shane-centric pictures are included.

For the uninitiated, it’s easy to overlook the Pogues greatness by concentrating on the stories of drinking and drugs, fights, affairs, and toothless gentleman. This Box Set will remind you of their songwriting greatness, proficiency of execution, and the simple fact that they are one of the best rock bands of the last 30 years. If nothing else, it’s comforting to be reminded that Pete Doherty and Amy Winehouse are utter posers compared to one of the world’s all-time great substance-abusers… this dude:

We used to trade these 10th generation copied VHS tapes of old shows (there’s some embarrassing ones out there.) We’d watch them in the office at Equal Vision Records during some BBQ that Steve and Kate Reddy were hosting. Then we’d talk about fighting for like 5 hours.

This video is back in the day at it’s absolute best in quality and substance - easily one of the best videos that exists of Youth of Today. First generation encode of YOT live at the Anthrax 1988… the whole show. (Right after Ray’s first trip to India - damn he was good.) The videoographer tells me great stories, but I’m sure you’ll read about them some time soon on DOUBLE CROSS. He’s got many tapes that are going to start popping up on Youtube soon.

Speaking of YOT. I heard today from the Executive Producer of a 21st Anniversary Revelation Records Tribute compilation, on Revelation, of course. Death By Stereo is doing “Break Down The Walls” and Scott Vogel and Terror must have been so stoked to record a Side By Side song.

I’ll get you more info on this comp soon.

If you have any question in your mind about the dangers of rampant radical Christianity read on.

The Columbus Dispatch has the story. The headline calls it a “branding incident” but in fact, the school, parents and seemingly everybody knew this was going on for some time and nothing was done:

In addition to the branding incident, Freshwater is accused of teaching the theory of intelligent design to his eighth-grade science class even though the district ordered him not to in 2003, the lawsuit says.

“Mr. Freshwater advised his students that although he is forced to teach from the textbooks, the teachings are wrong or not proven according to the Bible,” the suit states.

School administrators knew that Freshwater disregarded their instructions, but they allowed him to continue teaching and never disciplined him even after the branding, according to the lawsuit filed Friday in U.S. District Court in Columbus. The suit did not identify the student or his parents.

The district’s attorney, David Millstone, said school administrators could not have disciplined Freshwater before the investigation’s completion. The Mount Vernon school board is scheduled to meet Friday to discuss the report and what, if any, action to take.

The suit alleges Freshwater burned a cross on the student’s arm on Dec. 6, using an electric device that puts out a high voltage. The device is used in science classrooms to teach the characteristics of different gases.

The boy’s parents complained to school administrators, who say they told Freshwater not to do it again.

Yay, Jesus!

Sussman hasn’t been on the radar quite yet, probably because he’s an idiot and a nobody.

In the bay area where he’s “live and local in the belly of the beast”  - my friends, coworkers and I are all very familiar with his daily racist and homophobic rants. Sussman doesn’t hide his racism, homophobia, and sexism… smear attacks and general stupidity. Then again, would you expect a self-described neo-con, theo-con to hold back?

Almost a year ago to today, I reported on this blog (and also tried to tip off Media Matters) about Sussman’s use of the word “wetback” to describe Ted Kennedy in a racist anti-immigrant tirade.

While, I’m happy to see Brian Sussman finally getting the attention he deserves, Media Matters picked a relatively mild rant on the Sussman Show to welcome him to their hall of shame. For that example, Sussman brings on a guy named Dr. Charlie Self, aka Dr. History, to perpetuate the idea that them gays are infiltrating our public school system.

I’ve been having some fun searching out information about this Dr. History guy. His blog is quite interesting. “Messenger to the thoughtful” is his slogan. Nice pasty white picture, nice bullet pointed rants. I feel better already.

Apparently his wife, Kathy, is an artist. She paints crucifixes and disco balls.

(That’s pretty original actually)

Charlie Self is also a writer involved in the Christian Self-Help entrepreneurial movement (scam). While a search for his name on Amazon yields NO MATCHES, I guess he has a book. (Come on… every writer on this shitty blog has a book or some product for sale with their name on it on Amazon.com or at least they have one on the way…. get it together, amateur.)

The site - thepoweroffocus.ca says:

Charlie is a coach, consultant, minister, professor and thought-leader with a gift of encouraging personal growth. For twenty-five years he has educated and empowered in churches, colleges and seminaries in Belgium, Washington, D.C., Oregon and in California.

“thought-leader??????????” Excuse me?

So I bring you another example, from this past Monday…
It shouldn’t surprise you that Sussman uses the pedophile/bestiality/slippery slope argument over and over again and thinks our schools are “brainwashing” our kids for the gay agenda.

From the 7 day audio archives posted on ksfo.com, I took 2 short clips from his show last Monday to make this video of Sussman discussing just that with a caller.

and here’s the audio alone for download: sussman-gay-brainwashing

Kick these assholes off the air. Fair use, B*tches!!!

For a longer history of the removal of the Cherokee, see here:

“No better symbol exists of the pain and suffering of the Trail Where They Cried than the Cherokee Rose (pictured at top of page). The mothers of the Cherokee grieved so much that the chiefs prayed for a sign to lift the mother’s spirits and give them strength to care for their children. From that day forward, a beautiful new flower, a rose, grew wherever a mother’s tear fell to the ground. The rose is white, for the mother’s tears. It has a gold center, for the gold taken from the Cherokee lands, and seven leaves on each stem that represent the seven Cherokee clans that made the journey. To this day, the Cherokee Rose prospers along the route of the “Trail of Tears”. The Cherokee Rose is now the official flower of the State of Georgia.“

Everyone sort of loves Canada, or at the very least has very few bad things to say about Canuck Nation. Her people are all pretty friendly, intelligent, make some mean maple syrup, and they rule the sport of hockey. I lived there for 4 years, and it’s a lovely place. However, Canada’s got a dark side as well. I was completely ignorant of Canada’s history with the Native Canadian population (and pretty much its history in general), so it was shocking to read that the Canadian government in the 1920s forced Native children between the ages of 7-16 to attend residential schools that were “dedicated to eradicating the languages, traditions and cultural practices of Native Canadians…“ It gets worse, though: “Children were forced to leave their parents and were harshly punished for speaking their own languages or practicing their religions.” As if that wasn’t bad enough, the Canadian government “has admitted that sexual and phsyical abuse in the schools was widespread.” The schools were opened in 1920 and only began shutting down in the 1970s, so we’re talking about 50 years of the children of an entire race being forcibly assimilated, harrassed, punished, and abused. Not surprisingly, the schools have been linked to “the widespread incidence of alcoholism, suicide and family violence in many native communities.” Canada’s Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, apologized to Native Canadians last week, and the government took other steps, including a C$1.85 billion payout to surviving students, to start to make amends.

I guess I shouldn’t be shocked considering that Presidents Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren forcibly removed thousands of Native Americans from the South in the 1830s following the passage of the Indian Removal Act in 1830. The Choctaw, Seminole, Creek, Chicasaw, and Cherokee tribes were all relocated to the West, mainly to Oklahoma. The Choctaw were the first to go, after being coerced into signing a treaty giving up their land. One of the Choctaw leaders remarked:

“We as Choctaws rather chose to suffer and be free, than live under the degrading influence of laws, which our voice could not be heard in their formation.”

A Choctaw Chief said that the removal had been “a trail of tears and death.” Out of the 15,000 members of the tribe who were removed, approximately 5,000 died on the long journey, which was undertaken in the winter and for which the US Army did not bring enough food or supplies. The Cherokee were removed in 1838, and out of 17,000 who were forced West, about 4,000 died. The Cherokee called their route “Nunna daul Tsuny” or “The Trail Where They Cried.”

I don’t know why I thought that Canada would be any different. I guess people are just bastards everywhere.

Upon seeing the Choctaw removal, Alexis de Tocqueville said:

“In the whole scene there was an air of ruin and destruction, something which betrayed a final and irrevocable adieu; one couldn’t watch without feeling one’s heart wrung. The Indians were tranquil, but sombre and taciturn. There was one who could speak English and of whom I asked why the Chactas were leaving their country. “To be free,” he answered, could never get any other reason out of him. We … watch the expulsion … of one of the most celebrated and ancient American peoples.”

ESPN Page 2 columnist Jemele Hill has everyone heated with her controversial comments that were pulled from her latest article :

Rooting for the Celtics is like saying Hitler was a victim. It’s like hoping Gorbachev would get to the blinking red button before Reagan.

The column got past her editors with this comment which isn’t surprising because they let Bill Simmons submit the same article every fucking day. Just a side note, does he have a “Sports Guy Column Generator” that spits out tired 1980s guy pop culture references in Men’s Mag Slang centered around a Boston team or his latest man-crush? Bad news Bill, Karate Kid sucks, Star Wars sucks, the Godfather is long and fucking boring and you have Bank Teller hair. Now back to Jemele, in keeping with ESPN Page 2’s style, she’s a terrible writer and she used a pretty raw comparison. Hitler and 9/11 comparisons normally result in someone going “Whoaaaa man stop it don’t go there!” as if some imaginary line has been crossed that could only be crossed by a complete asshole. I don’t have a problem with people making such comparisons, when Katie Holmes’ tits are described as the opposite of the holocaust it was cool and what Jemele did is cheap, in poor taste for an ESPN writer but the Celtics fans, especially the ones that call Boston their home are the ones who are offending me right now.

Everyone is upset in Boston, popular fan site Red’s Army is calling for her to be fired and wbztv.com posted some fan responses yesterday :

“We’re not talking about war; we’re talking about basketball,” one fan outside the Garden said. “How can you compare Hitler to a basketball game?”

“I don’t think you can say Hitler is a victim no matter what the circumstance is. That’s over the top,” another fan said.

These responses sicken me, Celtics fans are as fucking soft as the Celtics’ performance in the 4th quarter of Game 5. Boston Massachusetts is a city that was pissed off that a Holocaust Memorial was being constructed downtown too close to whatever the fucking Bank World Dunkin Donut Garden Center was called that week and too close to the Italian district, the North End. How dare they make us remember Holocaust victims while we’re staring at a statue of Paul Revere en route to a Celtics game (who the fuck went to Celtics games in 1995) belly stuffed full of carbs from the North End. This is a city built on racism, where Smitty O’Houlahan can blame anything he wants on a “nigger” and cops will turn the other red alcoholic cheek. Some area Jews didn’t even want the memorial in Boston because they felt it wasn’t an appropriate location. Downtown Boston is so fat and white that Jewish people actually felt bad breaking up that vibration

So now the poor fans are pissed off and are calling for the head of Jemele Hill the latest goat. It probably helps that she’s black as it’s easier for the city to rally against her. There is a bigger task at hand for the Celtics and their fans and that’s winning a Championship not whining about bad journalism and cheap shot comparisons.

Oh yeah, the Celtics fan side of myself would like to get a jab in though because that side of me is petty, Jemele your gummy grin and bulbous features are as shocking and offensive to me on this Tuesday afternoon as your attempts at journalism. Leave the vulgarity and cheap shot comparisons to bloggers, it’s all we have, you get the pay check, the paid appearances and fanfare, we just want to have exclusivity on swearing and Hitler comparisons if that’s cool with your fat ugly ass. Thanks.

Staying with the same-sex theme, The Guardian notes that:

“Scans reveal homosexual men and heterosexual women have symmetrical brains, with the right and left hemispheres almost exactly the same size. Conversely, lesbians and straight men have asymmetrical brains, with the right hemisphere significantly larger than the left.”

Same-Sex marriages started in California, and the first couple to get married was a lesbian couple ages 87 and 84. Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon are gay rights activists in San Francisco and have been together for over 50 years. Mazzeltov!

Of course, the law will be challenged on the November ballot, and in 2000, 61% of voters approved prop 22, which defined marriage as the union between a man and a woman. Although a recent poll found that 51% supported same-sex marriages, there’s a lot of work to be done between now and November.

Martin and Lyon with San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom.

…nee, it’s Wayne’s world!

Weezy shocks world! En route to a million sold in first week, Tha Carter 3 shatters industry estimates, proves there’s no such thing as over-exposure. Where’s the Rolling Stone cover? Meet 08’s biggest artist…

Wayne jams with Baby on ‘Leather So Soft” at Beacon Theater summer 07. Rolling Stone dropped the ball and had The Eagles on the cover this week, so here’s a sweet XXL cover…  

A year ago, if someone told me that in 365 days a black guy would have the Democratic nomination, the Celtics would be one win from a championship, and Lil Wayne would sell a million records in the first week and have the number 1 song in the country—about getting blow jobs nonetheless—I’d have laughed. But it’s all true. America’s not so bad. Ha…

I’ve been following New Orelans’ Cash Money Millionaires for a decade (Baller Blockin’ is my favorite movie after Citizen Kane). Ever since Juvenile’s “Ha” brought “bounce” music mainstream, Cash Money’s been my shiite, and this is by far the highest they’ve gone. Lil Wayne is a bonafide pop megastar! Let’s chart the rise and rise of Lil Wanye…

Flashback: June 22nd, 2007, Lil Wayne’s first-ever New York performance. Sold out. The Beacon Theater, a tri-deck Art Deco jewel, is packed with 3500 fans. It’s 10pm, and Wayne’s two hours late. No one thinks he’s going to show—even DJ Kahled, who came up from Miami with Wayne.

Twenty more minutes pass. The lights go down. Adolescent female screams.  Wayne bounds onstage in a blinged out RUN DMC shirt, dreadlocks flopping. “Yalls motherf*cking po-lice almost didn’t let me in the building,” Wayne’s first words, sounding stressed. “I love ya’ll. But fuck ya’ll police.”

(more…)

Weird…two stories in two days on Muslim women who’ve had premarital sex trying to get a hymenoplasty, where a doctor uses “stitches to repair the broken membrane so that it partially covers the opening of the vagina.” Why would women do this? Because in many Muslim countries, women are expected to be virgins when they’re married, so some are opting for the surgery to magically become virgins again. The WSJ did a story two days ago about the uproar in France (subscription needed) following a court’s ruling annuling a marriage because the man discovered that his wife wasn’t a virgin on their wedding night. The court said that it was a breach of contract, and now people are calling for the Justice Minister to resign! Then, the NYT did a story about Muslim women and virginity.

Personally, chalk me down as someone who’s a bit torn on this issue. On the one hand, I can understand critics’ arguments that the procedure perpetuates the repression of women in Muslim countries and stifles attempts to advance womens’ rights in those nations. You can’t become a virgin again, no matter how hard you try…not to mention that you’re lying to your prospective husband and presumably your family, and his. At the same time, shouldn’t this at least be an option for Muslim women, or any woman for that matter, who chooses to do it? One of the arguments in favor of abortion is that women who are desperate enough to avoid having a child will turn to dangerous methods, including underground abortions, that could lead to death. Indeed, around 70,000 women die each year from unsafe abortions. Part of the reason some women get an abortion is cultural (i.e. it’s taboo to have a child out of wedlock and can lead to the woman and her family being ostracized), and that’s true whether you’re Muslim or Catholic. Now, I’m not sure if there is some sort of underground hymenoplasty, and there certainly doesn’t seem to be any way to do it yourself, so maybe this argument is a stretch. But, some women may think that they’ll be severely ostracized and may even be put in physical danger unless they prove that they are virgins, so shouldn’t they at least have an outlet to have this procedure done by a trained doctor in a safe environment? Thoughts?

Now that she’s a virgin again, she only wears white…