People are giving Prince...? Or, 8==>...? Or whatever the hell his new moniker is a bunch of sparkly purple shit because he told the UK Mirror newspaper that the Internet was, "completely over." "I don't see why I should give my new music to iTunes or anyone else. They won't pay me an advance for it and then they get angry when they can't get it," Prince told The Daily Mirror.
You know what, Prince -- you're so fucking right. iTunes DOESN'T pay you for your music so they have no fucking right to it. iTunes and the rest of the recording industry want to convince artists they should sell their valuable music catalogs in downloads, ringtones or Hostess Twinkie format - or whatever the new fucking delivery mechanism is, because if they don't...? The artist is, "driving the fans to steal it from non-legal sources."
I wonder if that logic works for Mercedes -- or better yet, Bugatti! I want one of those cool Bugatti cars, but damn!? They just won't sell them to me for the price I want to pay (which would be approximately $1.72). So, in retaliation, I think I'll go about stealing one. See, Bugatti! I told you! You won't put the same price tag on it as a bag of gummy worms, so now I have to steal it. See what you made me do??
For those of us olde school music fans, there's this great urban legend about another one of Minneapolis's finest musical offerings, The Replacements. Legend has it, The Replacements got all kinds of liquered up and broke in to the Minneapolis offices of their record label (at the time it was Twin Tone) and stole their own master tapes so they could chuck them in the Mississippi River rather than allow their music to come out on the new uncool, sellout format..."compact disc."
I don't know if that story punk rock urban legend or a true tale of typical, boozed-induced 'Mats "shoot-yourself-in-the-foot-rather-than-wear-fancy-shoes" rock logic. Don't care. Because I love The Replacements and their shambolic, grubby, middle-class, neo-punk, heartfuckingbreaking brand of snot-nosed rock n' roll.
And guess what else...? If The Replacements wanted to get drunk and chuck their meal ticket in the Mississippi rather than sell their music in a format they didn't want....? Well, that just makes me love them all the more. It's called ARTISTIC CREDIBILITY.
Prince has earned the right to be Prince. He can sing his new album into a bucket (albeit a really fancy, purple bucket) and it's his right. He can chuck his whole new album into the Mississippi River alongside The Replacements' master tapes if he so chooses. He doesn't have to sell it to YOU at all. He can do what he wants with it because he's the artist.
Guess who else is right? AC/DC, De Leppard and whole bunch of other big-balled rock stars who decided they didn't want to scrape on bended knee before the vandals who are defacing their art and stripping it of context and value. Record labels want artists to scrape off their album art; chisel seminal concept albums down to a 10-second ringtones and throw the bones on iTunes for a few thankless ducats.
Since when does Terra Firma (a.k.a. the refuse removal company who now owns EMI - yes, a GARBAGE company owns the record label that is home to The Beatles and Pink Floyd's catalogue) get the right to tell Pink Floyd to sell RINGTONES which specifically violates their contract not to mention artistic statement?
Since when do WE the consumers get to tell Prince in what format he should release his ART and how much we think it's worth? You can just not buy it, sure. But that's your choice. Neither I nor Prince care. But I don't see that your opinion matters. Have you sold 100 million albums? If not, you don't get a vote. Just like when I call up Mr. Bugatti and tell him about my cool new pricing plan for the Veyron 16.4.
Music is still art. Musicians are still artists. You don't cut the eye out of the Mona Lisa and sell if for a cut rate -- just like you don't sell "Wish You Were Here" as a ringtone just to make a cool 99 cents.
Maybe it's a Minneapolis thing, but I LIKE the idea of artists who don't have to create art that fits into your iPhone and at the price you decide you might pay -- 'cause if they don't...? You'll STEAL it. Really? You'll just STEAL it...?
Count me in with the 'Mats & Prince. Fuck you. I'd rather just chuck it in the river and have the integrity and sense of self to know that all the fucking great unwashed non-fans, jackals and fuckos who are pissing in the collective talent pool of the recording industry aren't going to get their thieving hands on my goodies.
I like the idea that artists are willing to create art and sell it in a way that satisfies them creatively instead of creating music that can be sliced and diced up for sale like cheap, day old bread.
Here's a link to the article.
And here's a link to The Replacements because they are the fucking best, you just don't know it yet.
And here's a link to the Bugatti Veyron 16.4. It ain't no gumball.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Mel Gibson & the "N" Word
So there you go...
Aussie hypocrite, fading actor and failed Christian zealot Mel Gibson was busted today in the media when a recording of him vomiting forth a racist, hateful, obscene and violent verbal assault on his baby mama, Oksana Grigorieva was released to the media.
Sure we all blurt out some fairly unpleasant sentiments in the heat of a spicy battle with our significant other. I, myself, have been known to go to the dark side and compare my spouse to her mother -- which is about as low as you can go in the insult department as far as I am concerned and it's guaranteed to escalate any already heated argument into an out-an-out blood bath.
But here's the thing. I never yell racist slurs. I don't care how drunk or mad I am. NO chance. No way. No how. Guess why? I'm not a racist. See how that works?
Mel has been scampering all over Hollywood for years selling himself as this affable, handsome, charming Aussie film star who loves himself some JESUS! That's right. Mel loves the Lord so much - he had to build himself his own church. Not just any old church mind you - but a real fancy one in Malibu. A real fancy, church in Malibu that thinks the Vatican is too damn liberal with their views on women and saying mass in English. Mel prefers his church in LATIN and his women pregnant and obedient (and stacked... yeah... that too).
Why in Latin? The actor has been very vocal about his "traditionalist" views, adhering to the Roman Catholic faith as it was understood before the "modernization" by the Second Vatican Council of 1962-1965. ''I go to an all-pre-Vatican II Latin mass," he told USA Today in 2001. "There was a lot of talk, particularly in the '60s, of 'Wow, we've got to change with the times.' But the Creator instituted something very specific, and we can't just go change it.''
So in 2003 the actor decided to help change things back to the way they were, building a chapel in Malibu, Calif. – The Church of the Holy Family. Tucked away in the tree-covered mountains of Agoura Hills, 30 miles northwest of downtown Los Angeles, the rustic church, unaffiliated with the Roman Catholic archdiocese, has a foot-tall crucifix on the altar and the priest keeps his back to the parishioners as he performs mass every morning entirely in Latin. In church, women must wear head coverings.
Among traditionalists, there is a more extreme group affiliated with the ultra-conservative stream of Catholicism known as Sedevacantism, meaning, "the seat [of the papacy] is empty." They believe there has been no legitimate pope since 1958. Gibson hasn't said he shares that belief, though his father, Hutton Gibson, is a well known anti-Vatican II activist and author of the book Is the Pope Catholic? Mel also occasionally calls law officers "sugar tits" and blames all the wars in the world on Jews. So as you can see -- he's really a go-to guy for excellent points of view and searing truth.
So Mel is bigger than the Pope! Mel calls himself "Catholic" but doesn't recognize the Pope. Hey Mel! The Pope is the guy in white sitting in the Popemobile if you are having trouble "recognizing" him. But Mel Gibson doesn't need no stinking Vatican! He's got his own church now where parishioners get to look at the priest's ass through mass because they aren't worthy and women need to cover their hairdos lest Jesus think they were having a bad hair day.
So what's the point here? Well, first of all racists can't be Christians. It's against the rules. It's like being a vegan who loves a good pork chop.
Second of all, while I'm all about mocking Mel Gibson for his self-indulgent, faux faith and general buffoonery -- what I'm wondering is why NOBODY IS SHOCKED THAT HE IS VERBALLY ABUSING AND THREATENING THIS WOMAN WHILE HIS INFANT CHILD CRIES IN THE BACKGROUND.
So we are appalled that he uses racist epithets, but the domestic abuse doesn't seem to ruffle many feathers. Because I'm not really down with hitting women or using your power and position to degrade someone privately so you can link arms with them and sashay down a red carpet publicly the next.
So for the record, I think the "N" word describes to Mel Gibson perfectly and that "N" word is NUTJOB. And while he may love himself some Latin, there aren't enough "mea culpas" in Malibu to make me forgive him for being a racist, violent, asshat.
In Vino Veritas, Mel-baby.
Aussie hypocrite, fading actor and failed Christian zealot Mel Gibson was busted today in the media when a recording of him vomiting forth a racist, hateful, obscene and violent verbal assault on his baby mama, Oksana Grigorieva was released to the media.
Sure we all blurt out some fairly unpleasant sentiments in the heat of a spicy battle with our significant other. I, myself, have been known to go to the dark side and compare my spouse to her mother -- which is about as low as you can go in the insult department as far as I am concerned and it's guaranteed to escalate any already heated argument into an out-an-out blood bath.
But here's the thing. I never yell racist slurs. I don't care how drunk or mad I am. NO chance. No way. No how. Guess why? I'm not a racist. See how that works?
Mel has been scampering all over Hollywood for years selling himself as this affable, handsome, charming Aussie film star who loves himself some JESUS! That's right. Mel loves the Lord so much - he had to build himself his own church. Not just any old church mind you - but a real fancy one in Malibu. A real fancy, church in Malibu that thinks the Vatican is too damn liberal with their views on women and saying mass in English. Mel prefers his church in LATIN and his women pregnant and obedient (and stacked... yeah... that too).
Why in Latin? The actor has been very vocal about his "traditionalist" views, adhering to the Roman Catholic faith as it was understood before the "modernization" by the Second Vatican Council of 1962-1965. ''I go to an all-pre-Vatican II Latin mass," he told USA Today in 2001. "There was a lot of talk, particularly in the '60s, of 'Wow, we've got to change with the times.' But the Creator instituted something very specific, and we can't just go change it.''
So in 2003 the actor decided to help change things back to the way they were, building a chapel in Malibu, Calif. – The Church of the Holy Family. Tucked away in the tree-covered mountains of Agoura Hills, 30 miles northwest of downtown Los Angeles, the rustic church, unaffiliated with the Roman Catholic archdiocese, has a foot-tall crucifix on the altar and the priest keeps his back to the parishioners as he performs mass every morning entirely in Latin. In church, women must wear head coverings.
Among traditionalists, there is a more extreme group affiliated with the ultra-conservative stream of Catholicism known as Sedevacantism, meaning, "the seat [of the papacy] is empty." They believe there has been no legitimate pope since 1958. Gibson hasn't said he shares that belief, though his father, Hutton Gibson, is a well known anti-Vatican II activist and author of the book Is the Pope Catholic? Mel also occasionally calls law officers "sugar tits" and blames all the wars in the world on Jews. So as you can see -- he's really a go-to guy for excellent points of view and searing truth.
So Mel is bigger than the Pope! Mel calls himself "Catholic" but doesn't recognize the Pope. Hey Mel! The Pope is the guy in white sitting in the Popemobile if you are having trouble "recognizing" him. But Mel Gibson doesn't need no stinking Vatican! He's got his own church now where parishioners get to look at the priest's ass through mass because they aren't worthy and women need to cover their hairdos lest Jesus think they were having a bad hair day.
So what's the point here? Well, first of all racists can't be Christians. It's against the rules. It's like being a vegan who loves a good pork chop.
Second of all, while I'm all about mocking Mel Gibson for his self-indulgent, faux faith and general buffoonery -- what I'm wondering is why NOBODY IS SHOCKED THAT HE IS VERBALLY ABUSING AND THREATENING THIS WOMAN WHILE HIS INFANT CHILD CRIES IN THE BACKGROUND.
So we are appalled that he uses racist epithets, but the domestic abuse doesn't seem to ruffle many feathers. Because I'm not really down with hitting women or using your power and position to degrade someone privately so you can link arms with them and sashay down a red carpet publicly the next.
So for the record, I think the "N" word describes to Mel Gibson perfectly and that "N" word is NUTJOB. And while he may love himself some Latin, there aren't enough "mea culpas" in Malibu to make me forgive him for being a racist, violent, asshat.
In Vino Veritas, Mel-baby.
Friday, February 13, 2009
I'm Gagging Times Eight
It's pretty hard to trigger the collective gag reflex of the entire United States but somehow octo-mom Nadya Suleman has done it! In a country where double-stuffed food-eaters, high-fructose corn syrup-drinkers and Ann Coulter booker-readers can waddle to their Hummers and drive eight blocks to a Walmart to buy some censored CDs and semiautomatic weapons -- we can finally all mutually draw the line at a human brood mare who is so selfish and grotesque that she gave birth to a litter of children when she already had a herd t home she cant pay for.
Let's not kid ourselves, there's plenty of blame to go around. How many times must you undergo fertility treatments to have seven successful pregnancies? If the national average of success is about 20% then wouldn't logic say she had undergone fertility treatments approximately 100 times? At an average cost of 10-15,000 dollars a pop, that 's a pretty expensive habit. My guess is that she was probably compensated for each treatment so the fertility doctor could practice his "non-traditional" methods and up his baby batting average. Even guinea pigs only have an average three to four babies at a time. They also occasionally eat them, which in my opinion, is better parenting than Nadya Suleman seems capable.
Humans aren't guinea pigs. Our babies aren't born able to latch on, run away or swim off to life alone right after we are born. Human babies need 18 YEARS of nurturing and socialization in order to survive in society. Human infants need to be taught how to walk, talk, empathize and operate a cell phone while driving. WIth 14 children that means that Nadya Suleman has about 45 minutes a day to feed, change and clean each child. That's not really enough time to teach a child any real core values -- like no matter what the most important thing is lip implants and hiring a publicist.
Let's not kid ourselves, there's plenty of blame to go around. How many times must you undergo fertility treatments to have seven successful pregnancies? If the national average of success is about 20% then wouldn't logic say she had undergone fertility treatments approximately 100 times? At an average cost of 10-15,000 dollars a pop, that 's a pretty expensive habit. My guess is that she was probably compensated for each treatment so the fertility doctor could practice his "non-traditional" methods and up his baby batting average. Even guinea pigs only have an average three to four babies at a time. They also occasionally eat them, which in my opinion, is better parenting than Nadya Suleman seems capable.
Humans aren't guinea pigs. Our babies aren't born able to latch on, run away or swim off to life alone right after we are born. Human babies need 18 YEARS of nurturing and socialization in order to survive in society. Human infants need to be taught how to walk, talk, empathize and operate a cell phone while driving. WIth 14 children that means that Nadya Suleman has about 45 minutes a day to feed, change and clean each child. That's not really enough time to teach a child any real core values -- like no matter what the most important thing is lip implants and hiring a publicist.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA-- I AM SO PROUD!
First of all, I am neither a crier -- nor am I a prayer. But I am tonight.
I am so fucking proud of this country for the first time in a long time. Every night for the the past week -- I prayed for Barack Obama. I couldn't sleep last night for the fear that somehow, the assclowns that seem to have entrenched a foothold in this great nation might somehow again weasel a simpering puppet into 2000 Pennsylvania Avenue to constipate the collective karmic and economic colon of this country for the next four years.
Tonight when Barack Obama was named President-Elect of this once-great (and soon-to-be-great-again) country, I wept. I wept tears of joy and hope. I even tolerated looking at Oprah's face. It feels good to be an American again.
P.S. After tonight, Oprah officially resumes chapping my hide on a daily.
I am so fucking proud of this country for the first time in a long time. Every night for the the past week -- I prayed for Barack Obama. I couldn't sleep last night for the fear that somehow, the assclowns that seem to have entrenched a foothold in this great nation might somehow again weasel a simpering puppet into 2000 Pennsylvania Avenue to constipate the collective karmic and economic colon of this country for the next four years.
Tonight when Barack Obama was named President-Elect of this once-great (and soon-to-be-great-again) country, I wept. I wept tears of joy and hope. I even tolerated looking at Oprah's face. It feels good to be an American again.
P.S. After tonight, Oprah officially resumes chapping my hide on a daily.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Where Art Thou Dick Cheney?
I'm just going to cut to the chase on this one. I think Dick Cheney IS the Axis of Evil. Oh yeah, I went there. I think he is a evil powerbroker who yanked the strings of that simpleton George Bush for the the last eight years and now that his empire of sand is crumbling and America is little more than a Banana Republic (NOT the place you buy mid-priced sportswear, BTW) Dicky has slithered off into the sunset to leave W holding the big bag of shit. Just sayin...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Lynn Forester De Rothschild's Hermes Birkin Is Fake (Just Like Her)
Lynn Forester De Rothschild -- the Facial Merkin wonders if you know that name? I didn't think so. First of all -- she's a Lady. Andy by "lady" I don't mean in the "I have a vagina, ergo I should be Vice President" sort of way -- but more in the "I married some titled, foreign rich dude so now you can suck it" sort of way.
Next, you should know she was one of Hilary Clinton's biggest fundraisers. She wrangled her rich cronies into coughing up over $100,000 to support Mrs. Clinton's run for the White House. But now...? She supports John McCain. Why, you ask? Did she have a labatomy? No... It's because she thinks Barack Obama is (wait you'll love it!) an.... ELITIST!
That's right. Mrs De Rothschild... Oh...?! Pardon moi! I meant to say Lady De Rothschild is just one of us folks. Didn't I see her lingering over the half-price tube socks bin at Walmart just this morning? She's all about simple values like: royal titles, owning banks, telecommunications companies and diamonds bigger than your head. Shucks...
Because when it comes to government, here's what I want -- AVERAGE. Just average for me. I wouldn't want anyone spectacular or well-educated running this popsicle stand we call a country. None of those Harvard schmucks need apply. I want me someone who graduated at the bottom of their class. Better yet, I want someone with a trade school education. How 'bout a beauty school dropout?
What Lady De Rothschild's real problem is (besides a face like a wolverine's scrotum) is that she didn't get her way. She doesn't really give a crap about who gets elected -- only that she feels like she has some say in the matter. So she took her gold-plated toys and ran home.
Let me be crystal clear on one matter and I'll make sure the crystal is Baccarat so you can stand to touch it -- you are NOT "one of us." You are an arrogant child who needs to misuse her perceived power by appearing on CNN to try to undermine the candidate of the party you claim to support because it will affect your tax bracket favorably.
Here's a suggestion, why don't you shove your botoxed face back up your leathery, old ass. If we want to hear from you we'll give you a small kick and you can rattle your jewelry.
Next, you should know she was one of Hilary Clinton's biggest fundraisers. She wrangled her rich cronies into coughing up over $100,000 to support Mrs. Clinton's run for the White House. But now...? She supports John McCain. Why, you ask? Did she have a labatomy? No... It's because she thinks Barack Obama is (wait you'll love it!) an.... ELITIST!
That's right. Mrs De Rothschild... Oh...?! Pardon moi! I meant to say Lady De Rothschild is just one of us folks. Didn't I see her lingering over the half-price tube socks bin at Walmart just this morning? She's all about simple values like: royal titles, owning banks, telecommunications companies and diamonds bigger than your head. Shucks...
Because when it comes to government, here's what I want -- AVERAGE. Just average for me. I wouldn't want anyone spectacular or well-educated running this popsicle stand we call a country. None of those Harvard schmucks need apply. I want me someone who graduated at the bottom of their class. Better yet, I want someone with a trade school education. How 'bout a beauty school dropout?
What Lady De Rothschild's real problem is (besides a face like a wolverine's scrotum) is that she didn't get her way. She doesn't really give a crap about who gets elected -- only that she feels like she has some say in the matter. So she took her gold-plated toys and ran home.
Let me be crystal clear on one matter and I'll make sure the crystal is Baccarat so you can stand to touch it -- you are NOT "one of us." You are an arrogant child who needs to misuse her perceived power by appearing on CNN to try to undermine the candidate of the party you claim to support because it will affect your tax bracket favorably.
Here's a suggestion, why don't you shove your botoxed face back up your leathery, old ass. If we want to hear from you we'll give you a small kick and you can rattle your jewelry.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Sarah Palin & Your Butt
So Republican VP nominee, Sarah Palin is a devout Pro-Lifer and a "lifelong member of the NRA." The Facial Merkin wonders, how does one become a lifelong member of the NRA? Do you come out of the womb toting a 22? For me, I find warmongering and killing stuff for fun and the Pro-Life stance to be a bit mutually exclusive. But I came out of the womb clutching my wiener like a normal baby --so what do I know?
As it turns out Sarah's 17-year-old daughter, Bristol (that's her real name, not her stripper name) is pregnant. Again, that seems to fly in the face of Sarah's "abstinence" stance. While I may be your normal, average wiener-grabbing former baby who doesn't think they are in any position to attempt to dissuade an entire generation of young people from denying a biological imperative -Sarah thinks otherwise. She wants you to control your children's wieners and vaginas even if she can't control her own daughter's.
I like to think we are all the boss of our own butts. Hence the post-gestation celebratory grope in the delivery room. But just like I'm not going to listen to any lectures on veganism from some dude munching bacon, I'm not going to listen to Grandma Sarah's position on abstinence.
By the way, anyone watching the Republican National Convention? Holy crapweasel!
By the looks of the audience, it Grand Old Party is presently made up of old ladies, fat dudes, red-headed children, christian singers, facelifts, funny hats, mall bangs, wire-rimmed glasses, cheap suits, apathetic clappers and a whole mess of white folks.
Moreover, by the looks of all the empty seats, it is also the party of the invisible man. Or, as the case may be, the invisible gun-toting, pro life, woman. Watch your wieners, she's got a gun.
As it turns out Sarah's 17-year-old daughter, Bristol (that's her real name, not her stripper name) is pregnant. Again, that seems to fly in the face of Sarah's "abstinence" stance. While I may be your normal, average wiener-grabbing former baby who doesn't think they are in any position to attempt to dissuade an entire generation of young people from denying a biological imperative -Sarah thinks otherwise. She wants you to control your children's wieners and vaginas even if she can't control her own daughter's.
I like to think we are all the boss of our own butts. Hence the post-gestation celebratory grope in the delivery room. But just like I'm not going to listen to any lectures on veganism from some dude munching bacon, I'm not going to listen to Grandma Sarah's position on abstinence.
By the way, anyone watching the Republican National Convention? Holy crapweasel!
By the looks of the audience, it Grand Old Party is presently made up of old ladies, fat dudes, red-headed children, christian singers, facelifts, funny hats, mall bangs, wire-rimmed glasses, cheap suits, apathetic clappers and a whole mess of white folks.
Moreover, by the looks of all the empty seats, it is also the party of the invisible man. Or, as the case may be, the invisible gun-toting, pro life, woman. Watch your wieners, she's got a gun.
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