Quick note: I was sleep deprived and had been listening to A LOT of NPR. They had been covering the Democratic National Convention non-stop. This somewhat explains my confusion (I swear to Obama this was my reaction progression) when I received the following text from Jackson at 9:07 pm on September 6th, 2012:
Kevin Hart came out to “My President’s Black” with midget Secret Service men
1. What the fuck is Kevin Hart doing at the DNC
2. There’s no way Kevin Hart is at the DNC.
3. Midgets!? There’s no way this shit is flying at the DNC.
4. Oh. Yea. I heard on the radio or some shit the other day that he was hosting the VMAs.
5. I’m a fucking idiot.
6. And a fat piece of shit.
I swear to L. Ron Hubbard that I was legit confused/perplexed that Kevin Hart was at the DNC. It made sense that the most famous, active black comedian would be at the DNC. Like Ferrel or Colbert at the White House Correspondent’s Dinner. But it was not the Correspondents Dinner, it was the DNC, And there were midgets involved. And a Young Jeezy song about how his Lambo is blue, and how he will be goddamned if his rims aren’t too. I’m a fucking idiot (#5).
6’8 White Dude Raps with Ghostface Killah
From NPR’s awesome review of Ghost’s new album: “Twelve Reasons to Die is the creation myth of a black superhero set in 1960s Italy, which looks a lot like 1990s Scorsese. [It] has all the makings of a cult classic. Jangly, tumbleweed guitar that warms the cold-hearted comic book-style violence. [B]rash and Technicolor and heartfelt. It is not what you would expect from a rap album, or a Ghostface album, or a film score.”
9-year-old discusses the meaning of life? Sign me the fuck up.
As openly gay women who’ve never made their sexuality or their sexual politics the subject of their material, Tegan and Sara have always created romantic music about falling in love and living through relationships both good and bad. In the past, it was frequently possible to distinguish between the songs each wrote — Tegan’s were often tempestuous and fulsome; Sara’s more poppy. But the material on Heartthrob is very much a collaboration of sounds and sensibilities, and these women are united in expressing the joys and the agony — the often luxurious, languid agony — that anyone who’s been in love can identify with.
Image of Tegan and Sara
I always thought Tegan and Sara were lesbians with each other. Whoops. Well…maybe?
This video proves possible an excerpt from Pickup Artists by Anderson & Millman that I originally thought was bullshit.
[According to Dave Evans] “‘You might think this is bullshit, but it’s true. It’s something that even Jordan couldn’t even do. Earl [Manigault] was playing in a semipro game in 1965 in a little gym up in East Harlem. He was late for the game and the coach said he couldn’t play. But Earl forced his way in, and he immediately took five jump shots from the same place and hit each one. On the sixth possession a guy they called Aubry grabbed the rebound and pitched the ball half-court to Earl. Everyone in the gym stood up. There was one guy back on defense, and he tried to draw a charge by stopping at the foul line. Earl took off a few feet in front of him and stepped on his forehead — his goddamn forehead — and catapulted over him and dunked the ball. Maybe Doctor J could do something like that, but Earl is six-foot-one. I swear this is true. Ask anyone.’ Five people, asked in different places at different times, confirmed the story.” (Page 90-something)
The new video for Action Bronson’s “The Symbol” is a ’70s-type throwback. An Albanian-blooded “Shaft “. A red lion’s beard, blonde-wigged masterpiece.
Jeopardy Review | Show #6441 | Dancer At The Barre Nipple Slip, From Book Of Rejected New Yorker Covers
Ionesco was an French Romanian absurdist playwright? Fuck. Yeah. Click read more.
First episode of the season. Chick who won the final episode of last season had to wait weeks to play her next game…she loses. Such is life. Clues about lakes. A clue about a Theodore Dreiser novel. Standard stuff. The Final Jeopardy clue made my my my my fucking brain implode on itself. Here’s the video the photo from up top is pulled from. Click read more.
Remember when you were all, How come no band strategically fuses together 1-second clips of 70s/80s porn and sets their music to it? Well, the video for “Cycle” by Icky Blossoms does just that. In a good way, it feels like a music video for Boogie Nights Soundtrack. The video, while NSFW, isn’t overly graphic — think the scene in A Clockwork Orange where the main dreg sleeps with birds he met at the record store.
AaaaaahhhhWwwooooooo #WarrenZevon (Taken with Instagram)