Rachael Ray, Dunkin' Donuts, and Ridiculous Republicans

Shield thine eyes! The following content may be unsuitable for children and quite frankly, the majority of adults.

Rachel Ray is at it again, my friends. In an obvious ploy to flood the American subconscious with sympathetic thoughts toward Muslim extremism, the perpetually smiling talk show host dawned a keffiyeh in her recent Dunkin' Donut spot. A fucking keffiyeh! I wish I were joking, but I'm afraid I'm in no mood for humor. Now, in fairness to Ms. Ray and Dunkin' Donuts, they call the black and white garment wrapped around her neck a "scarf." Nice try assholes, but thankfully, that weak shit is not fooling Michelle Malkin.

Michelle Malkin, FOX News commentator and one of the few to host The O'Reilly Factor when Papa Bear is absent, is the genesis of the controversy. She points out that the scarf-looking keffiyeh "has come to symbolize murderous Palestinian jihad." She also notes it was "popularized by Yasser Arafat and a regular adornment of Muslim terrorists appearing in beheading and hostage-taking videos."

Tip of the hat, my good lady. I've heard talk that she's too harsh and her criticisms are unfounded, and as a child, I would have agreed with that line of thinking. I remember my mom used to engulf me in bubble wrap every time I rode my bike. This, of course, drew complaints about the restriction of movement and resulting inability to steer. But she would just say that I didn't have to steer because my plastic cocoon (and guardian angel) wouldn't let me get hurt. Michelle Malkin is America's bubble wrap, knee pads, wrist guards, and helmet, suffocating the joy out of harmless activities. And for this, I salute her.

Some say that it's just a plain old scarf, that Americans have been wearing scarves for years and thus retain the right to wear them. I say to you this: I used to wear my clothes backwards. Then, in the early 90's, two child prodigies (Mack Daddy and Daddy Mack) started wearing their clothes backwards, most famously in the music video for their song "Jump." You may have heard "Jump" on Jock Jams or in NBA arenas during tip-off, but I digress. After Kris Kross laid claim to this style of dressing, I could no longer go about doing so without unintentionally displaying support for the duo. Well, I did support the duo and so carried on that "phase" until the age of 13. This Rachael Ray thing, however, is a whole 'nother story.

So do me and Michelle Malkin a favor- Next time you see someone wearing a scarf (Which will probably be winter, right? Maybe fall. Who unveils their scarf swag in the summer?), do what they used to do to me when I wore my Kris Kross clothing and spit on them. Harsh? Maybe. But necessary? Think about it.

Akon Is Not a Rapper

Neither is T-Pain. Neither is Usher. They sing, sometimes with computerized AutoTune software, and at varying levels of goodness, but they do sing.

Now I realize that, as black males who sometimes wear jewelry, the largely middle-aged white media can't possibly be expected to distinguish. And really, why should they? Personally, every time I see a black person I naturally assume they're one of four people depending on their age and height: Will Smith, Dwayne Wade, Bill Russell, or Morgan Freeman. So while it troubles me, I accept that when I hear about Akon molesting a 15 year-old fan on stage, "rapper" will precede his name and not "singer" or "R&B star."

Embracing the English (Part 1)

So within the last year, my awareness and resulting appreciation for British pop culture has really expanded.  And well, I thought it worthy of mention. It started with Ricky Gervais, trickled to Jonathan Ross, and most recently has grown to include Russell Brand. I'll start with Ricky Gervais.

I guess I've been aware of who Ricky Gervais was since 2005 when the American Office debuted on NBC.  It being a British import there was much discussion about how the subtle humor would hold the attention of us dumb Americans.  Anyway, it succeeded eventually, and the names "Ricky Gervais" and "Stephen Merchant" had at least a marginal increase in their Q rating here in the states.  At this point, I didn't bother to seek out the UK Office.

Flip to 2007.  HBO decides to broadcast another Gervais BBC show: "Extras." I didn't get into Extras until Season 2, which looking back I can pinpoint as the genesis of my not-at-all unhealthy obsession with Ricky Gervais.  So I watch Season 1 and Season 2 a few times and finally Extras came to an end with a 90 minute Christmas Special in December 2007.  This brings us to Exhibit A (great scene altogether but the speech starts at about the 1 minute mark):

After this finale, I found myself on YouTube one day looking for more Gervais material.  I found the podcasts aka internet radio shows. These podcasts introduced me to this lovely man:

His name is Karl Pilkington and he is a male human.  He is also fucking hysterical. He wears velcro shoes and is responsible for the quote "What were the things in Gremlins called?" He has an unquenchable infatuation with insects, jellyfish, and now that I think about it, most of the animal kingdom. He's a rare mind and I'd be doing you a disservice by trying to describe him to you so here's a taste courtesy of the Ricky Gervais Show podcasts:

Remarkable. Really, truly remarkable.  The podcasts are some of the funniest things I've seen or heard from any medium of entertainment. Onto The Office.

So I was a fan of the American Office and now a huge fan of the show's creators. Naturally it followed that I would seek out the UK version of the show. Fantastic. Short by American network television standards at only two seasons of six episodes each (plus two hour-long Christmas specials), the series is tight (as in no fillers) and rewarding. The Tim and Dawn relationship (UK's Jim and Pam) and how things wrapped up with David Brent (aka Michael Scott) were all very satisfying for the viewer. It is first and foremost a comedy though, so here's a gem from Season 1:

Links:

Ricky Gervais' site

The Pilkington Files

The Wire: -30-

Well, I don't really know what to say.  The Wire is done, at least for now, and rather than telling you how great it is and rattling off superlatives let me just offer my thoughts on the finale.

Following last week's climactic and emotional episode, -30- was more about closure, about the players we've followed for five seasons exiting the game only to have their vacancies plugged by newcomers.  As the show has preached/documented, the inability of institutions to reform leads to this revolving door:. cycles of violence, social reproduction, and on down the line.  Michael is the new Omar, Dookie the new Bubbles.

I also liked the Marlo and McNulty parallels, both left in a situation where circumstances have forced them outside of their comfort zone.  We knew this was inevitable with McNulty at least, as there was no way the homeless murder thing wouldn't catch up with him.  I'm just glad he didn't end up taking himself out ala Brooks in Shawshank Redemption.  I also liked the irony in Marlo, the once-upon-a-time new Avon Barksdale, finding himself in the situation Stringer Bell coveted so much.  Only difference being he's of the Barksdale mentality and has no use for it.

Following last week's tear-worthy Michael-Dookie fair well scene in the car, this week had its share of great scenes I'll just rapid fire for you.  Bubbles making that walk up the steps.  Marlo standing solo on the corner taking it in for possibly the last time.  Michael and the shotgun- "that's just a knee."  And of course, McNulty, Lester, and Kima's moment following the fake wake at the bar.

Jump Off Remix

So Joe Budden is holding some contest for aspiring producers.  Not sure on the details really but I do know that he released an a cappella version of one of his tracks.  I, being an aspiring producer, a maker of beats if you will, thought I'd try my hand at this.  The track, "Dear Diary", is off of Budden's near-classic mixtape/album, Mood Muzik 3.  Being a huge Budden fan myself, I decided to take an hour out of my Thursday and grace his vocals with a music-bed of mediocrity.  Thank you.  Anyway, for the zero people reading this, visit www.myspace.com/kirbypucketproductions and treat yourselves to a 5 minute auditory utopia. See what I did there- first, I self-deprecate, then I praise myself.  At the very least, this should create some curiosity-induced link peepage.  Fantastic. 

Somewhere, Emeka Okafor Is Smiling

Before I elaborate on my newfound man-love for Dwight Howard, let us take a moment to admire the reaction of Jason Kidd's young son (see above) to the now famous superman dunk.  I know I should try to avoid obscure references but Kidd's son reminds me of what I imagine a young Karl Pilkington was like, inducing involuntary smirks by his mere physical appearance.  (If you don't know Karl Pilkington, look his podcast stuff with Ricky Gervais up on YouTube).

Anyway, back to Saturday Night in New Orleans.  First of all, props to Gerald Green.  I had heard of a possible "kiss the rim" dunk from Howard but Green's cupcake candle blowout dunk was something else.  With that said, Dwight still deserved the title, but having a competitor like Green there making it a close race really earned this contest a spot in history.  He was Desmond Mason to Dwight Howard's Jason Richardson.

As for the Game itself, Sunday night gave the rest of the country a chance to see this next decade's best point guard, NO's Chris Paul, in action.  LeBron put on his usual performance, Dwayne Wade got one of his last wins of the season, and Damon Jones further cemented his position as the NBA's version of Freddie Mitchell.

The League is in good shape though, maybe even great shape.  The west has 9 teams with likely 50+ win seasons, blockbuster trades are making that competitive west even more competitive, and the current generation of stars are all likable guys.  LeBron, Wade, Chris Paul, Brandon Roy, Dwight Howard, Greg Oden, Kevin Durant, Deron Williams: all good guys.  David Stern has reason to smile.  And for me, usually April can't get here fast enough, but with this playoff chase looking crowded and inevitable, I think I can take a couple months of meaningful games.