What a difference a month makes

As any NFL fan (and most New Yorkers) undoubtedly know, there’s an annual ritual that occurs somewhere between the 3rd and 8th weeks of the NFL season each year. The New York Giants will be struggling, a few anonymous sources from the team will leak quotes to the media about how much the entire team hates head coach Tom Coughlin, and a few prominent beat writers and reporters will pen articles about how the team has tired of Coughlin’s rigid ways and that it’s time to make a change.¹

Seriously, if you were to look up the term “hot seat” in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of a red-faced and exasperated Coughlin in the middle of the same exaggerated head shake/eye roll combo an assistant principal at a high school would make after hearing that the gym locker room toilets were clogged again.

He’s never won (and never will win) coach of the year. Whenever Sports Illustrated or ESPN.com does one of those anonymous player surveys, he’s always the choice as “the coach I’d least like to play for.” He’s not regarded as an evil genius like Bill Belichick, a guru like Jon Gruden, a master motivator/player’s coach like Mike Tomlin or Pete Carroll, or even an “old guy whose best days are behind him but still has something in the tank” like (the extremely overrated) Mike Shanahan. He is actually a stereotypically bad assistant principal — a micro-manager whose obsession with mind-numbing routine and authoritarianism ends up undermining the power he already has².

But, as of Sunday night, Coughlin is the head coach of two Super Bowl champions, a feat matched by few others. A man many wouldn’t consider a great (or even good) NFL coach has twice bested the man thought of as the best football coach of his generation.

Today, the Coughlin narrative is that he’s an underappreciated motivator and technician. The end results (two championships) have justified any means, and 50 years from now, no one will remember that he came within a hair of getting fired every year. All they’ll see is “Tom Coughlin = two-time Super Bowl champion” and they’ll assume that he was a great coach.

Now, there’s an obvious parallel between coaching and parenting (and teaching, even), and I brought up Tom Coughlin’s career because it ties directly into a question I’ve always had about parenting.

What exactly makes a “good” or “great” parent?

This seems like it should be an easy question to answer. A good parent is a selfless individual who loves their children unconditionally, stops at nothing to provide for and protect them, teaches them whatever needs taught, and models good behavior.

But, if the ultimate goal of a parent is to make sure their offspring are productive, capable, and well-adjusted members of society, what’s to make of “good” parents who were, to put it bluntly, failures?

How do you gauge the parental merits of loving, selfless, and upstanding individuals who’ve raised kids who grew up to be liars, deadbeats, thieves, rapists, murders, and Laker fans? Would you consider a parent “good” if they were successful and happy and well-adjusted, but their children were the exact opposite?

Perhaps, like a “good” coach who just wasn’t able to find a way to motivate his team, maybe a good parent with sh*tty offspring has all the proper parental tools but just didn’t apply them properly…making them bad at being a parent

On the flipside, what do you make of people who’ve managed to succeed in spite of what looked to be lackluster and/or deficient parenting? The man who’s managed to become a renowned surgeon despite his overbearing and still hard to please alcoholic father? The woman who never received a single compliment from her ruthless and manipulative mother but ended up being a caring, successful, and well-adjusted lawyer and mom herself? The kid from the projects who, after seeing how heroin tore apart his family, got a PhD. in neuroscience to study addiction and help make sure what happened to his family doesn’t happen to any others?

On the surface, no one would say that any of these people had good parents, but you can’t deny the fact that their relationships with their parents helped motivate and inspire them to become who they are today. Again, if parental merits depend on the offspring you send out into the world, the “sh*tty” parents definitely succeeded. Perhaps these parents, bad as they may have seemed, were only doing what they thought it took to ensure their children’s success as adults.

And, just as you probably won’t hear any Giants complain about Coughlin’s rigidity or out-of-touchness today, you’re probably not going to hear any of the people from the last paragraph complain too much about how they were raised.

If the Giants don’t make the playoffs this year, Coughlin gets fired. Now, though, each of his negative characteristics become pluses through euphemism. (i.e.: “he’s a micro-manager” turns into “he’s steadfastly committed to excellence”)

If these people don’t turn out successful, the drunk dad is an asshole, the manipulative mom is a bitch, and the kid with the addicts in his family just had too much on his plate to overcome. If successful, though, the asshole dad becomes “a guy who believed in tough love,” the bitchy mom is just a “perfectionist who wanted the best for me,” and the kids from the projects reflects on all the sacrifices his people made to help him make it.

I guess I’m trying to say that whether a person is a good parent or not is completely arbitrary, completely variable, and completely dependent on the quality of kid they produce. But, to be honest, I don’t even really believe that. A part of me still thinks that, despite what I’ve tried to prove today, good parenting is like pornography — you can’t really define it, but you know it when you see it. 

Hmm. I forget which Gladwell book it was (actually, it might have been “Freakonomics.” I really have no idea), but I remember a passage in it that basically stated that the best parenting is done before a kid is even born. The genes you pass on to him and the financial situation he’s born in do waaaaay more to help (or hurt) him succeed than anything you can do as a parent.

If this is true, perhaps coaching and parenting are more intertwined than I thought. As any Giants fan will surely tell you today, “good coach” is just another way of saying “he was lucky enough to have some good ass players.”

¹There’s an article at Slate.com that goes much more in-depth on this “ritual.” I remember reading it there, and I know it’s somewhere in here, but I couldn’t find it yesterday.

 

²No shots at any assistant principals reading this

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

I’m bringing this up because all of this success has undoubtedly made my already large head even bigger. I’ve become more secure in my voice and my ability to articulate, amuse, and entertain, but with that came an arrogance that leads to days like yesterday.

I think I can (and should be able to) tackle any topic, so when I was browsing through different websites Monday afternoon, looking for something to write for Tuesday, I came across Zerlina’s article about rape, read the comments, and naturally thought “I think I’ll offer a (slightly) dissenting viewpoint. I might upset a couple people, but it’ll be no big deal. They (our readership) know and love me already, so the people who do happen to get upset will forget all about it by 3pm Tuesday afternoon.”

I was wrong.

While I think this conversation needs to be had, I’m not well-versed enough with this topic to even take the chance to articulate the types of thoughts I did yesterday. And, even if I was a rape issues maven, this isn’t the type of topic that someone like me — a snarky, sarcastic, (somewhat) insensitive, and (too) pragmatic asshole — should attempt to tackle by myself.

Perhaps I may get there eventually, but I’m not there yet, and it took a day like yesterday to drive that point home.

Also, it was a poorly crafted post. The title was unnecessarily incendiary and sensationalistic, the premise was drawn from a flawed inference (more on that later), the examples I used to make my point were lazy, insulting, and (very) hurtful, the conclusion was completely tone deaf, and the post-post 11 am edit was an abject fail.

Plus, as Panama stated in a conversation we had yesterday, because of the nature of VSB — we occasionally get “serious,” but most of our topics are meant to be light-hearted and entertaining. also, we usually touch on one topic one day and keep it moving. — this isn’t really the place for the type of discussion this conversation warranted. Honestly, if yesterday’s post didn’t blow up the way it did, today’s topic would have either been a (super-late) NBA preview or something about first date etiquette.

For instance, a glance at the screen while writing this tells me it’s 2:54 pm. In three hours, I’m meeting a couple people to create another “Sh*t___Says” YouTube video. And, lets just say that people who plan to spend entire evenings filming videos titled “Shit Diva Dudes Say To Bougie Black Girls” probably shouldn’t post potentially explosive pieces about rape two days before this silly-ass video debuts.

As much as I spoke about common sense Tuesday, the decision to post a controversial opinion about women and rape didn’t exhibit very much of it.

I do not apologize for possessing the feeling I was attempting to convey. But, I do apologize for being too arrogant to realize how wrong it was for me to attempt to convey it here yesterday. It’s an issue too touchy, too sensitive, too nuanced, and too volatile for a person without a master understanding of the topic to address on a platform as big as VSB’s.

2. Judging from what Google Analytics currently says (it’s 3:08 pm now, btw), yesterday’s post will probably generate 10 to 12,000 unique visitors. A year ago, this would have been one of our highest traffic days ever. Today, it’s maybe the 6th or 7th highest day in the last two weeks.

Both Panama and I (and Liz for that matter) have had some difficulties dealing with this increase in readership and reach; some relatively easy to handle (increased server costs, needing to hire interns, etc), and some that’ll take a bit more brainpower to solve.

One of these “difficult” problems is the fact that increased readership means that there’s a greater chance that someone not at all familiar with you will find your link on Facebook or Twitter, and it’s been a struggle trying to straddle the line between “opinionated and editor-less blogger who can say whatever the hell he wants with no repercussions” and “person who may need to be more cognizant of his words because he’s not just speaking around friends anymore”

With this growth comes an increase in responsibility, and I know I seriously let some people down yesterday. I can’t promise that it won’t happen again. You can’t be successful at this without taking some chances and (occasionally) upsetting people. But, going forward, I do promise to be more conscious of the effect my words can have on people.

With all that being said, although I was genuinely surprised with (and hurt by) the reaction in the comments (and on Twitter), I really don’t want anyone to think that today’s piece and yesterday’s mid-morning edit are me back-tracking or trying to elicit any sympathy. Yes, I feel bad that there are some people who’ve never heard of VSB before and are going to use yesterday as their first (and, likely, only) impression of us, but this is what I signed up for when we decided to build this blog, and if I accept the praise, I have to handle the criticism too. I said it, signed my (real) name to it, and whoever doesn’t like it has a right to call me on it.

3. After re-reading Zerlina’s post for the umpteenth time yesterday, I realized that I definitely reached for the inferences I made. Because I followed the discussion about it on Twitter before actually reading it, I read it with an agenda, looking for a few things that weren’t actually there. I know how shitty it feels to have people make conclusions about something you’ve written before actually reading it, and I apologize to Zerlina for doing that to her.

4. You’ve probably noticed that I haven’t actually said anything about yesterday’s content yet, and I don’t plan to. That ship has sailed. I will say though, that as hard as this may be to believe, I actually did appreciate yesterday’s discussion. Perhaps the best part of VSB is the Very Smart readers, followers, and fans we tend to have, and yesterday was one of those days where I could sit back, read, and learn from them.

Among these things I learned was that there is a major disconnect among some very smart people about issues such as consent and rape/crime prevention and the definitions and proper applications of terms like accountability and responsibility. I don’t know if anything was “solved” yesterday (or if they ever will be), but I don’t think I was the only one surprised by how far apart many of us are when these topics are brought up.

I’m sure yesterday cost us some fans and dissuaded people who would have been fans in the future. That’s unfortunate. For those who did come back today, thank you, and lets continue to entertain (and educate) each other. My eyes and ears feel a little more open today, and I hope yours do too.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”) 

So happy togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Or not.

9:59: As I begin to prepare for my second annual minute-by-minute recap of the season debut of “The Game,” it’s probably not a good sign that it took me three minutes to find BET on my cable box. I feel extremely white right now. (And by “white” I mean “grown”)

Anyway, as “Lost In The World” — the Kanye song I listen to whenever I want to think about my dead goldfish — is playing in the background, they’re in the middle of an montage of things that made me wish I’d actually watched more than one episode of “The Game” last year so I can know what the hell is going on.

Confession time: You know how you’ll be watching some trailer for some sh*tty movie, and you’ll see a “much too established to be in this sh*tty movie” actor in it, clearly just there to collect a paycheck and go home?

Well, that’s how I feel about writing this summary. I have absolutely no interest in this show, but I’m only writing about it because I know people are going to want to read about and discuss it tonight and tomorrow. I’m officially a sell-out.

10:00: Another confession: I was kind of stressed about doing this. Live blogs, while fun, are pretty difficult to navigate because you’re watching, thinking of clever/relevent sh*t to write, and writing simultaneously.

But, since BET has five minutes of commercials for every three minutes of air time, I’m surprisingly good. Thanks Debra Lee!

10:01: I’ve never not been entertained by an Underworld movie. Just wanted to put that out there.

10:02: The show begins with Twin Mowry and Derwin Davis in a hospital. I really have no idea what the f*ck is going on right now. This — me not knowing what the hell is going on — will be a recurring theme with this summary.

10:04: Do laugh tracks make anything better? Seriously. Have you ever seen something funny happen in real life (i.e: a fat man in a little coat slipping on a patch of ice) and thought to yourself “Damn. This is funny as hell. You know what would make it even funnier? A gotdamn laugh track.”

(Ok, I actually have thought that before, but I think you get my point. Laugh tracks suck.)

10:05: As Derwin and the good Doctor McWhateverTheHellHisNameIs have a pissing contest, I’m reminded of something a few of my soon to be PhDed friends joke about all the time.

According to them, doctors (surgeons especially) usually are a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket, and aren’t exactly the smartest people on Earth either. They’re known as the dummies in the advanced degree world. I have no idea why I’m telling you all this. Perhaps I think you’d find the years long MD vs PhD feud to be more entertaining than my summary of this scene.

10:07: We see Jason Pitts for the first time, as he’s completing a mid-day booty call with some onesie-clad chick named Gloria. Don’t bother asking me why someone would have sex, put a onesie on, and get back in bed, because I have no answers for you.

She chides him about his pattern of not dating black women (I smell a recurring theme!!!) before inviting him to a wedding. Hmm. Shouldn’t booty calls make baby steps when they’re trying to score some “lets do something in public now” time? I mean, a wedding? It usually takes at least 20 sessions to even make it to a Wendy’s drive-thru.

10:09: Seeing Rick Ross on screen reminds me that his “Rich Forever” mixtape may be the best mixtape I’ve ever downloaded. (And yes. You just read a hip-hop purist put “Rick Ross” and “best ever” in the same sentence. If you have a problem with that, I’ll levitate on all you p*ssy n*ggas)

10:10: Pooch Hall Malik walks in while carrying a drunk hoochie, and the drunk hoochie is carrying 15 pounds of ass and 115 ounces of weave. This probably won’t end well.

10:11: Sign #3453 that I’m getting old: I remember when Anne Marie Johnson — the mom in the Kevin Hart Ford Explorer commericals — played the token hot chick in all of Robert Townsend’s movies, and the plastic woman in “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka.” I wanted to sleep with her before I even know what “I want to sleep with her” meant.

10:13: Derwin Davis is having his Emmy moment as he speaks to Twin Mowry. Nostrils are flaring. Cheeks are flushed. Voices are cracking. This is some high-level, Inside The Actor’s Studio-type sh*t right now.

10:14: Checking to see if they were joking about the show being an hour long.

10:14: Finding out that it is actually an hour long, and that I’ve already committed to writing this entire f*cking recap

10:14: Contemplating suicide.

10:15: The producers of “The Game” must have ESP, because as soon as I was thinking about giving the peace sign to life, they threw on some Kanye to snap me back to reality.

10:18: Brandy the bartender tries not to peek at her cue cards while exchanging barbs with Jason. Honestly, is there a 30-something celebrity with a weirder and more random resume than Brandy? She was a legitimate pop star, Kobe Bryant’s prom date, actually killed someone in a car accident, has been surpassed in pop culture relevancy by her much less talented and likable younger brother. It’s like her Wiki page was written by a dyslexic.

10:19: I have to say, Jason is easily my favorite character on the show, and since they give him all the best lines, he must be the writers’ favorite character as well.

10:22: Wendy Raquel Robinson (“Racks on Racks” for short) is in great shape, but I think she may have gotten to that strange point some women get to when they work out so much that they’re in danger of going from “she looks good” to “find the nearest methadone clinic”

10:27: Literally nothing important happens in the five minute span from 10:22 to 10:27.

10:27: I misspoke. Something important did happen. My feelings about the laugh track have gone from “very annoyed” to “I wish a plague on the family of whoever thought this was a good idea”

10:28: I’m going to put my serious hat on for a second and say that the relationship between Racks on Racks and Pooch Hall Malik is what happens when moms fall in love with their sons. Please, single mothers out there, if you ever find yourself falling in love with your son, suckerpunch him in the eye. Trust men, in 20 years, you’ll be a better woman and he’ll be a better man for it.

10:28: Since when does “naked chick found dead from an overdose” = “cue laugh track?” Am I missing something here?

10:32: As I’m beginning to get progressively more bored with the show, my mind begins to drift to more important things, most notably have Twin Mowry and Derwin Davis ever slept together in real life.

(I don’t think so. In fact, I hate when people say things like that. (pot meet kettle) But, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.)

10:33: Abortion Bombshell!!!!!!

10:35: Gotdamn. These two really go for the jugular when they argue with each other. Am I just naive? Do people actually argue like this in real life? Seriously, they say things to each other where the only rational response would be murder.

10:35: Cue Kanye again as Twin Mowry gets her own Emmy moment. I kind of like her’s better.

10:36: Really? You’re going to stop in the middle of giving the OD-ed weave monster mouth to mouth and argue? Really, “The Game” writers, you thought this would be a perfect time to add some levity?

10:38: Even Dead Ray Charles can see that Jason and Brandy are going to start dating. Perhaps he’ll even hit it tonight.

10:39: Or get married

10:41: I feel like I should be mad about this, but this KFC “wingman” commercial may actually be the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. My favorite part is the slow motion face shimmy while one of the women is eating a wing.

10:42: Two things this Mexican honeymoon scene makes me think about:

1. How much money did they have to pay “The Hangover” people to borrow their phone camera montage trick?

2. Why does Brandy look like she’s wearing a sock in her panties? Seriously, forget about camel toe, it looked like she was hiding the camel’s entire f*cking face in her draws.

10:45: Who’s going to cry for the poor little yellow kid who couldn’t get rhythm from a sister? Who’s going shed a tear? Are you going to cry for him? You?

10:48: This new movie “The Vow” was great the first time I saw it, when it was called “50 First Dates.”

10:51: Brandy. Race. Jason. Brandy. Race. Big Booty Keisha Jackson. Race. White women. Race. Black Women. Taye Diggs.

10:55: Awww. Derwin and Twin finally made up. BTW, is it just me, or does seem like Twin Mowry always dresses like she’s from the future?

10:56: You know, I’ve been thinking if this — my girl telling me she got an abortion a decade ago and the baby actually wasn’t mine — would piss me off. Honestly, it would. Don’t know why.

10:58: The chick from everyone’s favorite Progressive State Farm commerical makes her annual appearance as Derwin’s baby-momma, which reminds me of problem my dad has with “black” commercials.

He thinks that white casting agents don’t know how to cast black couples in commercials because the women are always much too good-looking for the men they’re with for it to be believable. When I told him once that it was actually realistic because this — getting with women who rate much, much, much higher on the “looks scale” than I do — was the story of my life, he said “You played basketball, though, so you don’t count.”

10:59: Seriously, who ever is the lacefront technician or weave grip on this show must make like $200 an hour.

11:00: As Derwin ends the show by killing a guy in his driveway and running his bag of presents (That was actually some gangsta-ass sh*t), I’m left to wonder how much longer “The Game” will stay on the air. I don’t actually want it to be canceled again. Many people I know seem to like it, and even though I’m still kind of salty that their write-up on the Ebony Power 100 was like 1000 times longer than ours, the husband/wife team of Salim Akil and Mara Brock Akil seem like good people

But, snark aside, it feels like the show is on auto-pilot right now, and I’m not sure if it can be fixed or if they even want to fix it. Perhaps “The Game” is the game they’re running on black America because they know we don’t have sh*t else to watch.

 —Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

A “He Said”/”She Said” Analysis on Dating, Love and Relationships

"My girl grillin' me. I got to go. This isn't going to end well."

What happens when you ask a group of women to tell you about some of the worst habits that men from their past have shared in common? They instantly become great writers, historians, and comedians who don’t shy away from exclamation marks and ALL CAPS. Here’s a short list of things guaranteed to drive 99.9% of good women away and how a man might justify doing these things, from two people who have been there (or who at least know someone who has).

1)    Habitually “checking in” and then falling off

Rahiel: His nickname is Mr. Check-in. Why? Because he’s the king of “I’m just checking in.” Rain, sleet, or snow – he’s guaranteed to call, text or email to ask about her day, family, and current affairs (like conflict in the Middle East). But it never amounts to anything (dates, a relationship, meaningful dialogue) besides him soon falling off of the face of the earth. Only to resurface weeks or months later – just in time to “check-in” again. He has seemingly devoted his life to keeping a foot in the door until she finally figures it all out and tells him to “checkout” or simply gives him a taste of his own disappearing act.

Panama: Is it really men’s fault that we like being cordial? In fact, it’s women’s fault for assuming all of those convos are supposed to lead anywhere. Plus, only in a woman’s mind does a man calling to ask sincere questions about how she’s doing and what she’s up to come across as rude and disingenuous. If it was your insurance salesman, you’d be pleased as punch. Your dentist calls every six months, but if we do it, then we’re playing games? I’m calling shenanigans on this one. We “check in” because you crossed our mind – plain and simple. Be glad somebody’s thinking about you instead of being upset that somebody out there in this great big world thought enough to send a simple, “I hope all is well.” I’m convinced that women and bobcats are the only species on the planet who believe that every single action has to lead to something. Live like the honey badger. Besides, you’ll be dead soon enough and nobody will text you then.

2)    Doing the bare minimum

Rahiel: He asks her out on a date, she accepts, and he responds, “So, figure out what you want to do and let me know.” This is what one of my girls had to say about that: “Why do I now have to plan everything?  Wasn’t this date your idea?  I think it says a lot if a man at least puts forth the effort to suggest something you could do on your date OR God forbid actually has everything planned. I think the complete lack of effort is either laziness, lack of leadership ability, or a sign of a self-centered man who does not think he needs to put forth any effort all.” This doesn’t mean that the blueprint has to be laid out, but where’s the initiative? Having ideas in mind and having made efforts to plan things out suggest interest, responsibility, and consideration for others. And those things never go out of style – even if you think chivalry has.

Panama: I totally agree on this one. Any man who won’t put at least a little effort into planning probably isn’t really that into you. I’ve been that guy before and I honestly feel bad about it sometimes. I’m almost sure I owe a few apologies too. But you live and you learn. You know what though? You have to be careful with this one as well – not to read too much into it. Some guys are just chock full of knowledge of random and interesting things to do because they like doing them. Of course, those guys are a win for you. Just remember, you might feel special, but he took a chick hang-gliding yesterday too, boo. But in general, the least a man can do is plan a day or an evening that you’ll spend together unless it’s agreed upon that you’ll just be streaming Netflix movies and ordering take out. Or watching reality television. Or yada yada yada.

3)    Acting like a “sweatbox”

Rahiel: Growing up in DC, there were particular words you never wanted associated with your name. After bamma and hoodrat, sweatbox was high on the list. The term has historically been used to reference a man or woman who excessively admires another individual – to an embarrassing (for all) extent. Somewhat of an unsolicited hype man. Sweatboxes weren’t cool back then, and they’re not cool now. Women may vary in what they deem as an “acceptable sweat level,” but no one (in their right mind) wants to be contacted so much by you that it borders on stalking and begs the question: you don’t have anything better to do in life than worship the ground I walk on? 

Panama: Again, I’m calling shenanigans. This is complete and utter nonsense. And do you know why? You only feel this way about the guys you’re not interested in. If you are feeling him then he can’t call you enough. If you like him he can text you 1,000 times a day and you’ll think each one just shows how much he likes you. You’ll rave to your friends about how much communication you all share. THEN you’ll always be available whenever he’s available. This is only an issue when the dude you aren’t interested in keeps calling you. That dude is a nuisance. That dude doesn’t get the message that you’re not interested. That guy is the “sweatbox”. The guy you like? That guy is thoughtful and charming and can’t seem to get enough of you. That guy treats you like a queen… and worships the ground you walk on and you love it. Miss me with this one.

4)    Talking a good game but never following through

Rahiel: He didn’t enroll in “How to Keep a Woman Happy 101” while in school and therefore doesn’t know that he should never tell her he’s going to do something and not actually do it. To him it’s just a phone call that he neglected to make (for the 100^th time nonetheless), but to her it’s an epic failure and betrayal. Why? Because if she can’t take his words to the bank and trust that she’ll get a return on them, then they’ll quickly become null and void to her.  And we all know that if you’ve lost a woman’s trust, you’ve ultimately committed relationship suicide. One word sums this all up: integrity. One female friend informed me that a lot of her girls have resorted to launching hi-tech investigations on new men that come into their lives.  This entails checking all social media sites,  wedding websites, and the registry lists of popular stores for wedding and/or baby registries. Really? It’s THAT serious now? What ever happened to full disclosure?

Panama: Seems to me like you’re talking about two different things: follow through and honesty. Now yes, they are related, but obviously, some men don’t follow through because they don’t mean it in the first place. Blame the first woman who ever let him off the hook: his mama. Plus he’s probably only saying what he thinks you want to hear and it isn’t worth it to him to follow through because what he wants from you and what he gets are one and the same. No need to do better for you because he isn’t convinced that he can’t do better than you. Now on the honesty side of things, well, we all lie. Or rather we all tell versions of our own truths; women too. Y’all don’t tell men upfront that you’re crazy just like he didn’t tell you that he had a wife. Equal trade off? Nope. But you’ll probably both end up dead in a few months dealing with each other anyway so whoopty do. By the way, while I do understand the desire to do a Google search on anybody you meet, some women take it too far. If you keep trying to find something wrong, you WILL find something wrong. Real talk, what happens in Mexico that ends up in the press, STAYS in Mexico. Oh and miss me on the full disclosure because very few women are going to put their nonsense in the street while expecting the man to let her know everything she needs to move forward. Women are information hoarders without wanting to do the same. Stop it.

***

Ladies? Fellas? What’s your take on those situations? Talk to me.

-VSB P and Rahiel Tesfamariam

Check back tomorrow on Urban Cusp for Part 2 of this series.

Meet Urban Cusp’s founder/editorial director Rahiel. You can follow her on Twitter @RahielT. Follow Urban Cusp at @UrbanCusp and join Urban Cusp’s fan page on Facebook.

We know. Thanks for the compliment, though

So, there’s a strong chance that things are going to be a little different around here in the near future. Don’t be alarmed. This isn’t a bad thing. It’s just that our diabolic plan for world domination is making us quite busy nowadays, and we may be adding (and subtracting) some aspects to VSB.

How busy? Well,�I won’t divulge everything that’s going on behind the scenes just yet, but for now…

Let’s start off with the lovely Liz Burr, who’s producing a new web series for Moguldom Media Group. Titled “She’s The Boss“, it features one-on-one interviews and profiles of successful black business women in NYC. �(I think it’s just a contrived way for Liz to eventually interview herself on camera, but don’t tell her I said that)

Panama and I have begun working on our second book. I won’t tell you exactly what it’s about yet, but I’ll give you a hint: I touched on the topic in an post this week.

And speaking of “Your�Degrees�Won’t Keep You Warm At Night“, we’re thisclose to signing off on something pretty amazing. Just waiting for a couple of lawyers to, um, do whatever it is that lawyers do before we can publicly say exactly what it is.

You might recall �me mentioning a few months ago that I was named head editor of an online New Yorker-ish magazine that’s launching in the fall. Well, that magazine has a name now — The Hill Review — and a launch date (Sept. 12th). Our�web designer (Yup. Huny. We’re rocking with the best.) is still working out a few kinks on our yet to be completed homepage, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t add us on our brand spanking new Twitter and Facebook pages right now. Also, although our super snarky submissions policy�isn’t ready for public consumption just yet�(Seriously, this thing is a work of art. It’s especially funny if you read it with Russell Brand’s voice. ), I wouldn’t let it stop you from sending us something at submissions@thehillreview.com if you’re interested in contributing in some manner. “Some manner” could be a poem, an excerpt, a piece of fiction, an essay, a query, a pitch, or whatever.

Don’t worry. We do bite, but they’re (usually) non-lethal.

As usual, Panama and I have been making our way around the web as well.

Panama was recently interviewed by The Statesman for a look at online dating�and social media. Don’t forget that you can find him at The Stir and GuySpeak as well.

My “Ask A Very Smart Brotha” column at Madame Noire is still going strong. This week, I addressed the futility of being a “ride-or-die” chick and why you shouldn’t kill your man’s dreams.

Also, Latoya Peterson of Racialicious asked me to take part in a very, very interesting roundtable discussion about interracial dating. Split into four parts, you can find the first part of the conversation here.

Lastly, yesterday’s conversation about race and tipping and waiters with superiority complexes will continue next week at The Good Man Project, as I agreed to let them repost “The White Person�s Guide To Black People, Part 5″. Mosey on over there on Monday if you still need to get some things off your chest.

Anyway, that’s enough from me today. Does anyone else have anything new and exciting and sh*t that they want to share? The carpet is yours.

—The Champ

I guess

When I tell people exactly how underwhelmed and unimpressed I was with “The Hangover,” most assume I’m just being a contrarian for contrarian’s sake — an idea that couldn’t be further from the truth. Although I didn’t see it in the theater, I rented it the minute it was available on Netflix, and anxiously waited three more weeks to get off the waiting list. As a huge fan of everything from “The 40 Year Old Virgin” to “Arsenic and Old Lace,” I wanted this movie to be great, and�I had my 32 oz. cup of “The Hangover is funny as f*ck” lemonade on my coffee table, ready to gulp that sh*t down.

But, while I was expecting something that could possibly be placed on my top ten all-time comedies list, I ended up seeing the Evelyn Lozada of humor.

How do they compare? Well, Lozada possesses certain physical characteristics (height, curves, long hair, light skin, etc) that would give her “automatic dime status” with many guys.�“The Hangover” possess certain scenarios and scenes that seemed to automatically cement it’s status as a comedy classic.

But, under further inspection, Lozada’s retired porn star-ish world weariness makes it so that she clearly doesn’t measure up to her measureables, and the “humor” present in the “The Hangover” is nothing but a bunch of scenes where the director might as well put a giant sign on the screen saying�“There’s a tiger indoors!!! This is supposed to be funny!!! Laugh now!!! You’re supposed to laugh here!!!”

Basically, it was a movie with a f*cking laugh track, an effect that left it completely devoid of any actual comedy.

To be perfectly fair, I have to admit that the trailers for “The Hangover 2″ don’t look too bad. I may eventually see it, but until that day comes, I’ll keep on digging in my comedy crates, searching for and rewatching gems such as…

Rasheed Thurmond on Bad Boys of Comedy (Rasheed actually passed away a year or so after doing this show, making him the Maurice Stokes of stand-up. I really thought he had a gift and could have easily been a “known” name by now)

The Louie: Season One�Blu-Ray boxset (The best stand-up comedian today with the best television show since “The Wire”)

“High Anxiety” (Although Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein get more love, this parody of Hitchcock movies is Mel Brooks’ best work)

The deleted scenes from “The 40 Year Old Virgin” (Without the deleted scenes, “Virgin” cracks the top five on my list of favorite comedies ever. With the deleted scenes, it’s the undisputed and unchallenged leader)

Aubrey Plaza’s impression of Sarah Silverman (Although I noticed her in “Funny People” and like her in “Parks and Recreation,” I officially fell in love after seeing this impersonation of the most annoying comic on Earth)

***12:57 am edit***

An endless loop of the Bulls’ historic�collapse�last night (Too soon?)

Anyway, people of VSB, what are your all-time favorite comedies? In this instance, “comedies” isn’t just confined to movies. Just anything that always makes you laugh.

Also, is there anyone out there who can give me a convincing reason to actually see “The Hangover 2?”�I can be swayed, but you need to be Jack f*cking McCoy with your argument.

The carpet is yours.

—The Champ

In case you missed it, “5 Questions with VerySmartBrothas.com Creators,” our interview with�Jamilah-Asali I. Lemieux for Essence Magazine, was posted yesterday. Check it out!

No rapture means that God wants you to stay on Earth and purchase the paperback or the $9.99 Kindle version of��Your Degrees Wont Keep You Warm at Night: The Very Smart Brothas Guide to Dating, Mating, and Fighting Crime�

Lastly, we�d like to thank all of you for coming through and nominating us for FIVE Black Weblog Awards. We�re on the final ballot for Best Humor Blog, Best Writing in a Blog, Best Sex & Relationships Blog, Best Group Blog, and Blog of the Year. Please�vote for us here.

It’s really not a game

“Why are you such a basketball snob?”

My girlfriend asked me this last weekend while I was trying to articulate my disgust for people who think Deron Williams is a better basketball player than Chris Paul. (Actually, disgust is a bit too strong of a word. Disdain is more appropriate.)

Anyway, she couldn’t understand why I felt comfortable making blanket judgments about a person’s (lack of) basketball acumen and intelligence just because they thought that one great point guard was better than another great point guard, and she called me a snob. I was intentionally taken aback by that suggestion, but I had to admit she was right.

I know more about basketball than anyone reading this, and not only do I know more about NBA basketball than anyone any of you know, I’d wager that I’m more knowledgeable about basketball than you are about anything. While I’m quite polite to those who know they’re not basketball mavens but wish to have a superficial (or educational) basketball-related conversation, if you do fashion yourself to be knowledgeable and you attempt to debate me, I will be as condescending, snarky, patronizing, disdainful, and dismissive as possible if you suggest something that shows you’re not worthy of my engagement. Be warned, and tread lightly, bitch.

I’m sure you don’t give two sh*ts about my snobbery, but that’s not the point. I don’t care if you don’t care. My snobbery has integrity, and even though I’m aware my relationship to basketball probably isn’t that serious to you, it’s more than just plain old “serious” to me.

It’s first falling in love with the sport when my dad took me to see the Harlem Globetrotters play at the Civic Arena on my 6th birthday.

It’s remembering watching the Rockets play The Celtics in the 1986 NBA Finals and (correctly) sensing that the Rockets were grossly over matched, even though I was so young (seven years old) that I still couldn’t quite pronounce “Akeem Olajuwon”.

It’s getting bored with always getting perfect scores when playing the “Name That College” game—being able to recall off the top of your head which university a random NBA player attended—and deciding to play “Name That High School“ instead.

It’s being able to tell what part of the country a point guard is from by watching the way he executes a left-to-right crossover dribble.

It’s playing so much pick-up basketball at so many different parks that you’re now able to identify who can and can’t hoop before watching anyone actually play just by paying attention to what they’re wearing (Note: The guys who play ball in store bought college and NBA jerseys are usually the worst players)

It’s knowing that the dribble move known by ballplayers as “The Shammgod” was actually first done on national TV by Penn’s Jerome Allen in an NCAA tournament game against Antonio Mcdyess’s Alabama in 1995.

It’s being able to tell when a player intentionally throws a slightly off-target pass to an open teammate, throwing his rhythm off and intentionally increasingly the odds he’ll miss the shot, and it’s understanding why someone would do something like that.

It’s being fully aware of the fact that while men are inherently bigger and more athletic, the main reason why high-level men’s players are usually so much better than high-level women is that women typically just haven’t put in as many hours working on their games. (and it’s being confident enough in my basketball knowledge to say something so seemingly sexist without hesitation)

It’s sensing that, even though the stats and game logs might not reflect this, Stephen Jackson always gives Lebron James fits, and it’s watching Kobe get shaken out of his shorts by Tracy Mcgrady in a 2003 game against the Magic, and anticipating that Kobe would do everything in his power to dunk on the entire team the next time he got the ball (He did, btw)

It’s shooting 200 shots a day every day from May to August when I was 11 years old, while my dad rebounded for me and charted my makes and misses. It’s dribbling my basketball through gang-infested neighborhoods and getting a “pass” from the thugs because I was “that little hoopin nigga“. It’s attending a Boys and Girls Club basketball camp in 1991, and first meeting the kid who’d grow to be my closest and oldest friend. It’s not getting a chance to play when taking a team trip to Italy because I tore the ACL in my left knee two months earlier. (But, I did get to hit the nude beaches) It’s crying when first hearing about Hank Gathers, Reggie Lewis, and (my friend and college teammate) Richard Jones, and asking God why a game that’s been so good to me could be so cruel.

Considering the negative connotation attached to the word “snob”, I was initially shocked by my girlfriend’s suggestion because I didn’t want to be seen as one of those people; those insufferable, egg-headed, know-it-alls who don’t miss an opportunity to let you know exactly how much more they know than you do.

But, I’ve reconciled with and accepted my snobbishness in all it’s glory, proudly rocking my snob stripes whenever possible. So, when my girlfriend asked that question, I responded the only way I know how:

“Because I’ve earned it”

Anyway, although my relationship with basketball may seem unique (and a bit obsessive), we each have something we’re unabashedly snobbish about. Whether it’s food or foreign films or pop culture or penis size, every single one of us reading this has a topic we think we know more about than everybody else, a subject that kind of brings out the highbrow and haughty asshole in us when we’re discussing it.

People of VSB.com, what exactly are you a bit of a snob about?

Remember, we’re all family here. Don’t be scurred.

—The Champ

I started calling myself “The Champ” in February of 2006, a week or so after the Pittsburgh Steelers won Super Bowl XL. At first it was a bit of tongue-in-cheek homage to a Bill Simmons joke–after he won a fantasy football championship, he started referring to himself as “The Champ” for a year –but the name (obviously) stuck with me.� I didn’t mind though. The Steelers have so permeated my fabric that the idea of permanently adopting a Steeler-based pseudonym seemed (and still seems) perfectly normal.

But, as this NFL season approaches, I’ve come to realize my affection for the black and gold isn’t extended to the league as a whole. Sure, I enjoy watching professional football, but when the Steelers aren’t playing, it doesn’t completely consume me in the way it does much of America. Wait, let me rephrase that. It doesn’t completely consume me in the way the NBA does.

You know, it’s interesting being a diehard NBA fan these days. Despite the fact that everything from the overall talent level to the television ratings has been steadily increasing for the past decade, the league is still faced with a ton of negative (and contradictory) PR�.

Depending on who you talk to, there’s either too much defense or too much offense, the games are too boring or the games are too filled with highlights, the players are too soft or the players are too thuggish, the league is too Euro or the league is too urban, and usually these pointed complaints are made by people who say they don’t actually watch the games.

Seriously, defending the NBA today is like dating a great woman who everyone thinks has been around, even though nobody has ever actually met anyone she’s been with.

Admittedly, I have a few biases. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I played college basketball. Also, my father (and one of my uncles) played college ball as well, my closest friend coaches pro ball in Europe, and I have a cousin who’s played in the NBA. I’m a stone-cold hoops junkie surrounded by stone-cold hoops junkies.

Biases aside, it’s still easy for me to find 5 reasons why the NBA is just better than the NFL.

1. The players have actual power

In the NFL, the (primarily black) athletes are the working class while the (overwhelmingly white) coaches, management, and ownership serve as the aristocracy. In this dynamic, with the exception of a few white quarterbacks (ie: Favre, Manning, Brady, Brees), the players wield no power. None.

A great example of this general powerlessness is occurring in New York City right now, as grossly underpaid Jets cornerback Darrelle Revis (arguably the best defensive player in football) deserves a lucrative new contract, but the team is under no obligation (or pressure) to appease him. He has no real leverage, and because of this, he’ll probably end up signing a new contract paying him maybe 50% of what his services are worth (as opposed to the current contract paying him 15% of what he’s worth), even though he knows since NFL contracts aren’t guaranteed, they could release him at any point during the contract and not pay him a dime. (They wouldn’t do that, but they could)

Regardless of how you feel about Lebron James and his ill-conceived decision show, you have to admit he took advantage of every ounce of his personal leverage to achieve his desired result. While Lebron’s situation is an extreme example, no other professional athletes are as self-aware as NBA players, and in no other team sport are black professional athletes afforded the same opportunity to take advantage of this self-awareness. They know they’re valuable commodities with a finite window of earning power, and they act accordingly because they have leverage. They have power.

2. The best team always wins the championship

In the National Football League, a team can sneak into the playoffs after winning approximately half of their regular season games, catch a couple of somewhat lucky breaks, and make it all the way to the Super Bowl. With a few more lucky breaks, they can win the Super Bowl. While this unpredictable parity is usually lauded as one of the best things about the NFL, it’s completely unfair, completely wrong, and easily one of my least favorite things about the league. (I’m not the only one who feels this way, btw)

Seriously, imagine if other fields were set up similarly to the NFL (and the NCAA tournament). Think about how unfair school would be if a person who earned D minuses all semester long was able to get an “A” for the year if he just got a couple B pluses on his last two exams.

With its best-of-seven game playoff series format, the NBA ensures that flukey sh*t like this doesn’t occur. It’s the only true meritocracy in sports. The best teams, the teams most deserving of winning, usually win. If you want to win in the NBA playoffs, you have to actually go and get better. You can’t rely on bad weather or lucky breaks to help your cause.

If a team gets hot, catches a few lucky breaks, and beats the favored team, great! Good for you. Now, do it three more times if you want to advance.

3. Bigots hate it

The one infallible lesson we’ve learned in our 400 years in this country is if bigots universally hate something, that something is usually a great thing. From slavery and women’s suffrage to Manhattan and Michelle Obama, this test has never been wrong. Seriously, if you’re ever confused about where you should stand on a controversial topic or issue, just ask the nearest bigot and do the exact opposite of what he suggests and you’ll be right as rain. And, since bigots unanimously hate the NBA (seriously. if you ever want to find out if someone’s a racist, ask him to share his thoughts about the NBA), there’s obviously an inherent super positive quality about professional basketball that NFL stans just haven’t recognized yet.

4. Skill matters

Why is this true? Well, just let me put it this way:�Dwyane Wade. Lebron James. Derrick Rose. Nate Robinson. Shannon Brown. Rajon Rondo. These are just a few of the dozens of NBA players who have the athletic chops to be able to retire from the NBA today, and get signed by an NFL team tomorrow.

The number of NFL players who could do the same? Zero

I’m not suggesting NFL players aren’t extremely skilled at their crafts, and I’m not attempting to minimize the amount of energy and work it takes to be a professional football player. But, as any athlete will tell you, it’s much more difficult to make an NBA roster than an NFL team because pro-level basketball is much more difficult to play than pro-level football.

Don’t believe me? Well it can’t be too difficult to make the roster in a sport where this guy..

…is a number one draft pick.

5. Each player matters too

From the otherworldlyness of Ron Artest to the perpetually petulant Kobe Bryant, each NBA player has a unique personality, skill set, and narrative. Even marginal players–like a Rafer Alston or Delonte West–have their own distinct and distinguishable qualities, and each of these characteristics are easily seen by the public.

And, while the NFL tries to sell you on the concept that it’s the only true team sport, the one place where each individual part matters as much as the next, in reality the National Football League is comprised of a few superstars (the aforementioned quarterbacks and a few other marquee players) and a bunch of anonymous and interchangeable drones.

There are no personalities, just 32 mega corporations each headed by 30 to 35 year old white males who rule over a bunch of throwaway parts. This is strongly and sadly evidenced by the very real fact that, as long as it’s people like Chris Henry and Andre Waters dying, nobody seems to care that the NFL is turning its players into mush brained zombies.

Damn, I guess this truly makes the NFL America’s game. But, it doesn’t make it better.

�My three favorites theories about why the NBA gets so much negative P.R.

A) There hasn’t been a white American basketball superstar since Larry Bird, and the fact that there’s no one for middle America to really root for cultivates a general disinterest with much of (white) America. There are no Mississippi farm boys (Favre), royal families (The Mannings), or superstar heartthrobs (Brady). This isn’t racist. It’s just hard for many to get behind a sport when you feel like you can’t relate to any of the players. In turn, this disinterest eventually turns into distaste.

B) For almost a decade, the best NBA basketball has been played out west. Phoenix, Los Angeles, Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, Denver, and Utah have all had consistently good teams, while New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, Washington, and (up until 3 years ago) Boston have consistently sucked. Thing is, the majority of the nations important sports media is located in the Northeast. And, since they haven’t had winners in their home cities for the past 10 years, they’ve written and reported with an anti-NBA slant. This actually leads to…

C) Casual NFL fans are more sophisticated than casual NBA fans. Wait, let me rephrase that. Casual NFL fans are more accepting of and willing to learn about football strategy than casual NBA fans are of basketball strategy. For instance, when a star NFL player has difficulties, the announcers point out that “Manning has always had difficulties against the Cover 2. Lets see if he can make adjustments at halftime” and people accept this as truth. When an star NBA player has difficulties, the announcers might point out a certain defensive tactic the other team is using, but the casual fan usually ends up thinking “Damn. Carmelo just isn’t giving any effort tonight. Damn overpaid NBA diva.” And, I think the casual fan’s willingness to give NFL players the benefit of the doubt (and not NBA players) is partially due to media influence. If you hear “NBA players don’t care” enough, you’ll start to believe it.

—The Champ

Every morning on my commute into work, I listen to the Kane show on Washington, DC’s 99.5.� The personalities are hilarious and the skits have almost caused pileups on many of Washington’s busy by ways and highways.

And high days are better than sober ones.

^Just felt like shouting out Outkast with that line.

Anyway, one segment that they do is called War of the Roses where they allow somebody who thinks they’re being cheated on to call into the show, tell their story and why they think they’re being cheated on, then the host calls the cheater up pretending to be from a flower shop giving away a free bouquet of flowers and they see who the alleged cheater sends the flowers to.

Now, on good ones, the alleged cheater will send the flowers to the very person the alleged cheatee thinks they’re cheating with and then all hell breaks loose.� It usually results in MAJOR blowups and somebody always goes down in flames…hard.� We’re talking Commander Sully into the Hudson Hard.� Well one particular morning a few weeks ago, the Roses segment involved a guy who called in not because he thought his girl was cheating on him, but because he thought his best friend was bangin’ his little sister.� He said he’d seen on facebook pictures of the two of them together where his BFF was doing body shots off of his younger sister.

I don’t give a sh*t if they’re getting married, the last thing I’d ever want to see pictures of on Facebook is some random mothertrucker doing body shots off of her.� There’s a few reasons in this world to put a few into the sky: 1) to let ninjas know you babysittin’ (name that reference for 10 Kool-Aid points); 2-100) some dude is doing body shots off your sister with pictures to prove it.

I guess its better than…never mind.

Sure as shootin’, dude sent the bouquet of roses to the little sister and all hell broke loose.� Dude had been specifically warned to stay away from little sister but his logic was this:� we’re both grown and consenting adults and what he wants should be irrelevant.� Of course, the big brother threatened to tell the sister about things he used to do and of course boyfriend threatened to tell big brother what color little sisters panties are, etc.

I really should have used Dude A and Dude B.� Anyway, this got me to thinking about what relationships really are off limits.� Now, in this situation, dude specifically said, “stay away from my sister” and those wishes were not respected but at least he’s in a real relationship with the little sister – not just jumpoff Josie jgets jizzed jon.

J’yeah.

In my opinion, if they’re both grown then f*ck it.� You can’t stop grown folks from doing what they want to do anyway, no matter how reasonable the request. However, as his best friend, shouldn’t that request at LEAST be honored and if they MUST not follow his request, shouldn’t they have come to him and been like, “we’re doing this anyway and you’re going to see some foul pictures and I like to put my legs behind my head, etc”

So reasonable people of VSB, if big brother says little sister is off limits…is she?� If so, why?� What are other relationships that should be off limits and why? Hell, what’s reasonable?� Today, let’s focus on morality, common decencey, and education.

We’ll work on colors tomorrow.

And by the way, that little white girl has no business dating that big scawy monsterw.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL, HE A 3

**ADMIN.NOTE: Please take a moment to venture over to a new website I’m writing for as well.� It’s very VSB-ish but you’ll be able to see the difference probably almost instantly.� It’s called Guyspeak.com. Check it out.� Spend a day, a week, or a lifetime.� Feel free to leave questions for any of the guys, but specifically moi, the Girls’ BFF.� Btw, this time, the Girls’ BFF is not a gay guy.**

last week, a link to this two year old video was shared on my facebook wall. for those too lazy to click, it contains an obviously mentally challenged and/or intoxicated man making a fool of himself at a funeral by singing quite possibly the worst rendition of amazing grace ever recorded.

actually, thats too kind. this is, without a doubt, the worst public or private rendition of any song ever made, and this includes my bi-weekly shower beatbox remix to bohemian rhapsody.

basically, its comedic gold, and the only thing i witnessed last week more funny than that was a too talkative boise state university football player getting knocked the f*ck out by something called a “leGarrette blount”

another video made the internet rounds last week, showing what looked to be a prostitute sitting in a car and having an indecipherable conversation with two men, including what seemed like her pimp, practically mimicking a deleted scene from a dolemite flick. yet, although this video was also roasted and ridiculed, most others admonished the ridiculers, some even saying that (paraphrasing) “our reaction to her situation is a shameful indictment on all of us.”

the difference?

the funeral crasher in the first video is anonymous, and the second vid provided more visual confirmation of former actress maia campbell’s sad schizophrenia aided transformation from ultimate dime piece to compton crack whore.

i know, i know, i know. the subtexts behind these videos are far from similar. one shows a man in no immediate danger, while the other depicts a woman being verbally assaulted and physically threatened by two men.

still, for all we know, the funeral crasher could have also been a strung out schizophrenic slowly descending to perdition. he might even be dead now. but, because we don’t have any context, he’s just funny…just as funny as the thousands of context-less crackheads selling stolen patchouli in barbershops in every hood in the country. our contrasting reactions just proof of how thin line the line is between humor and hurt, and how quick some of us are to admonish something as exploitation or degradation just because it doesn’t fit our personal idea of entertainment

you know, this actually reminds of me a few months ago when i was blackmailed into seeing that 145 minute long piercing heavy metal snuff film otherwise known as transformers: revenge of the fallen.

although the movie itself was more forgettable than shine’s career, my feelings of anger about the excessively coonish and borderline racist depictions of skids and mudflap stayed with me for a couple of days…until my girlfriend reminded me that i list borat, a film that takes a sometimes cruel aim at basically every possible ethnic group in the country, as one of my favorite comedies.

my point? even though we don’t all have to find the exact same things funny, none of us have the right to decide who and what can’t be made fun of. nobody. while we obviously should make an attempt to respect each others feelings, trust me when i say that legislating “funny” is dangerous territory we definitely don’t want to occupy. we all have our sad stories and sore spots, but if you start deeming certain subjects unconditionally untouchable because of sensitive context, where does it stop?

who knows?

all i do know is that i just read that maia campbell is currently in a rehabilation facility, and i know that i hope this is true

—the champ