Bunch of People Who Like to Think They Are The World

Well, this was bound to happen. And I was bound to have something to say about it. And what I have to say about it is perhaps predictable and has probably already been said, though maybe not, as I feel people are often more hesitant when criticizing "good intentions," but who knows. Let's get on with it.

The 25th Anniversary rendition of Michael Jackson's charitable musical collaboration, "We Are the World," was unveiled to the masses after the opening ceremony of the Vancouver Olympics and left me feeling disheartened at the blatant exploitation of a nation's tragedy to try and reinforce the illusion of cultural and cosmic significance felt by members of an ailing industry, but really served as a testament to the depressing state of said industry and revealed their narcissism and exposed their lack of potential for longevity.

Let me break that down so I don't sound like the pretentious fuck that I ultimately admit to being: The remake sucked. The calibre of the artists who participated in it, for the most part, pale in comparison to the original roster of musicians. Nobody can honestly say that Lil Wayne is as talented or culturally significant as Billy Joel, that Miley Cyrus is as vocally capable as Tina Turner, that Jamie Foxx is as musically charming as Stevie Wonder. Yet by participating in a remake of the original they place themselves on an even-playing field and almost assert a challenge that they can do it better. That they can somehow make it contemporary and more accessible and enjoyable for a 22nd century audience. Sorry Justin Bieber but your overly produced auto-tuned nightmare of an opening is just not cutting it.

And stop trying to make Nicole from the Pussycat Dolls happen. She's NOT, going to happen.

By blanketing it as a charitable gesture, they make it controversial to question their intentions. But sincerity, I feel, (again, for the most part) is not among said intentions. Perpetuating the celebrity industrial complex for these meritless entertainers by associating them with Michael Jackson's hit seems to be the underlying intention in my opinion. And it's an attempt to claim lasting cultural significance for a group of entertainers whose longevity and significance is questionable if existent in the first place.

In addition to manipulating the disaster in Haiti for their shameless self-promotion, they're manipulating Michael Jackson's image and influence by aligning themselves with it. Many of the people involved in the remake have made confident claims that this is what he would have wanted and this is what he would have done. It's easy to speak for the dead because they can't speak for themselves. And given the history of manipulation that Michael Jackson as a cultural figure has notoriously had perpetrated against him, I take all claims of understanding of his intention and posthumous wishes with a grain of salt. And let's be real, that editing job of Janet's face across the screen was creepy as shit. Plus did anyone even hear a harmony in there or was she just tagging along with him?

I'll level with fans of the remake though in saying that J Hud always does bring tears to my eyes and this was no exception. I'll also say that though I prefer Cyndi Lauper's distinctive shriek, my girl Celine really let it rip on that part quite well. But come on it's fucking Celine Dion is she really gonna let us down?

Conclusively, on a collaboration that's supposed to serve as a barometer of the current state of the musical industry and include a representation of the best of the best in pop cultural figures, the absence of Jay-Z, Lady GaGa, Beyonce, Rihanna, and more was notable to say the least, and when several of those artists were vocal in their declining of the invitation to the project, you have to wonder why. Though after seeing the result, it's not so hard to figure it out.

Ask and You Shall Receive

My prayers were answered last night at Radio City Music Hall. Any event that brings two of the most power American cultural figures together, Buzz Aldrin and Kermit the Frog, is an event well executed and certainly worth watching all three and a half hours of (gotta do the preshow).

My immediate reaction as the show began was, “Oh shit. Madonna’s here” and I knew right then, that MTV realized that if they were gonna make up for the snoozer of an award show they put on last year, they needed to pull out the big guns. Madonna proceeded to introduce an inexpressibly moving tribute to Michael Jackson, admittedly intertwined with the typical Madonna narcissism, but I’d say she was a most appropriate choice. Every time I watch any tribute to Michael Jackson I constantly find myself overwhelmed by the longevity and incomparable range of his career. It’s just something I’ll never get over.

Janet’s joining of the stage dancers when “Scream” came on and there was that great shot where him dancing was on the big screen behind her as she mimicked his moves in the lower right side of the shot, really touching stuff, Janet really did it, setting a precedent for the night that was met over and over again.

Then kill the lights, cue standing ovation, cue Katy Perry slaughtering another American classic as we introduce Russell Brand, our host for the evening, still sexy, still getting little to nothing from the crowd. What are you gonna do though? (Side note: The only host I really ever remember loving from the VMAs was Jimmy Fallon, who Brand later referred to as this generation’s David Letterman, I sure as hell hope not for the sake of our generation, love the guy, but his talk show sucks.) Whatever, he made some joke promoting public health care, wore unflattering pants and talked about his erections and being British all night, pretty much sums it up.

After that was the evening’s big shocker and, what I would say, the opening of the fairy tale narrative the VMA’s adopted. I’m gonna quit talking in a linear sequence now because, if I keep going I’ll never shut up, and this story really must be told as it would be told outside of a debriefing.

The first award given out of the evening was for Best Female Video, the presenters, if my notes serve me correctly, were Shakira and Taylor Lautner (werewolf dude from Twilight—SheWolf with a Werewolf, I don’t know, I loved it!). A dark horse in the race, Taylor Swift, took the moon man for “You Belong With Me” despite her stiff competition including Lady GaGa’s “Poker face” and Beyonce’s “Put a Ring on It.”

T. Swift, in her infinite adorable sincerity and humble nature, looks genuinely shocked as she covers her mouth in her long, silver, princess-y gown (she showed up in a pink horse-drawn carriage—Thanks MTV!) and goes up and gets all of like, fifteen words out about how happy she is to receive this “VMA award” because she’s a country singer and these things don’t usually happen to them…when Kanye, in his infinite and boundless arrogance, takes the mic from her and proclaims how he’ll let her finish, but that this was a sham because Beyonce made one of the best videos of all time.

All right, Kanye, duh. Everybody knows that. But do you really use MTV Video Music Awards as your pop cultural relevance barometer? Do you really think that Beyonce, who is a Grammy Award, Golden Globe nominated performer and superstar was really banking on putting that stainless steel astronaut above her fireplace in her palace with Jay-Z (I like to think of them as living in a palace but also hosting really fun barbacues—I actually often say that of any celebrity couple theirs is the barbecue I’d most want to be invited to…anyway).

The night goes on and not only did the event make little Taylor look like she was going to burst into tears, but it interrupted the opening of what I thought was a hilarious skit of Tracy Morgan and Eminem, Em training Tracy to become Best New Artist, “I could be Tracy GaGa,” hysterical. Thanks a lot Kanye for overshadowing that line. Come to think of it they would have been pretty adequate and hysterical hosts. Whatever. (Side note: My favorite part of that bit was the Cyndi Lauper cameo—now that’s a perfect reference MTV).

Taylor went on to perform her hit via a subway car, an admittedly nauseating performance where her vocals were proven to be way weak live, but I was so in camp T. Swift that even I cheered from here in Cackalack. Every mention of Kanye is met with wild boos and chants of “Taylor! Taylor!” from the audience, loves it. And Beyonce goes on, to KILL, KIIIIIIIIILLLLLLL in her performance of Single Ladies, starting with the bridge, which was smart, cause that part of the song is HOT, looking great, despite what some have said, and, whatever, I can’t even, I was in tears. If you didn’t see it YouTube it now. Loves it beyond expression. I can’t even.

Anyway the really good part of this story comes as Andy Samberg and Jimmy Fallon present the award for Video of the Year, which went to, what do you know, Beyonce. Girl goes up there, looking fucking fabulous in that short, pocketed low cut red dress, presumably from House of Dereon, and says about how she remembers her first VMA and how it was when she was 17 and it was with Destiny’s Child and what a special moment, and how she wants Taylor to come out here and have that moment.

I, died. Couldn’t even handle it. All right cynics, I know that it was very ostensibly a premeditated move and probably mandated by the producers of the show. But the way that she did it with such grace and humility and understanding, and then Taylor Swift comes out and is just, again, adorable, thanking her brother’s high school which Beyonce got a cute chuckle out of.

You know what it reminded me of so much? Dream Girls enthusiasts will get this. It was like that moment in the end of Dream Girls when Deena Jones (Beyonce) says at their farewell concert, “But you know there aren’t three Dreamettes, there are four…” and introduces, “Effie!” and Jennifer Hudson comes out in that ridiculously sparkly gown and the crowd goes wild and she proceeds to kill that song with Deena doing back up, pleased with her good deed and justice having been served. I like to think that Beyonce took a page out of Deena Jones’s book there After all, it was the film of her life.

Then Jay-Z came out and performed with Alicia Keys and it settled it for me. I need to go to a Jay-Z and Beyonce barbecue. They’re my America’s Sweethearts. (Side note again: what the fuck was with Lil Mama jumping on the stage at the end of that shit? Please, you’re the Paula Abdul of America's Best Dance Crew, you carry no social capital, knock it off.)

Other highlights included Lady GaGa looking like a lunatic in the periphery of every shot of Beyonce as she was sitting right behind her and wore outfits including a feathered neck corset, red lace jumpsuit that covered her face, and an Eskimo/sea anemone beard. My friend Lindsay made the best comment about GaGa: “The only thing I like about Lady GaGa is that she makes Katy Perry look like a total amateur.” Amen. The only two things I can say about her performance, because this is long already, is that number one, I completely forgot how musically capable she really is, and number two, I completely underestimated her limits (she basically mock hung herself on stage as the finale of her performance of “Paparazzi”—now MJ didn’t off himself, but I still found it tasteless in light of recent events.) I also have to say I did love that in her acceptance speech she yelled in between obscenities, “This is for God! And for the gays!”

Love a good shout out, especially when delivered next to a visibly uncomfortable Eminem.

Love that there was still love for Brit Brit, winning best pop video for that absurdly sexy masterpiece “Womanizer.” As she’s on tour now she accepted via somewhere with her band of dancers and also, did anyone else notice that Max, as in the magician-waiter from The Max in Saved By the Bell, was on tour with Britney? Apparently his name’s Ed Alonzo. Who knew?

Final thoughts:

Why did Eminem win Best Rap Video for that dreadful song proclaiming insults and slurs about pop cultural happenings that we had long stopped caring about, what, do only twelve-year-old white kids vote for that category?

Love that Serena Williams, a. was there and b. made a joke about crossing the line.

And lastly, Who the fuck is Muse?

In closing, Kanye, way to leave yourself open to shameless parody:

Congrats Bey

For the record, I'm going to post more on the VMAs later. However, I wanted to give a shoutout to the gracious Beyonce, the evening's true heroine, and say Congratulations on her winning Video of the Year for Put a Ring on It, which, yes Kanye, is a well executed video that has earned an honored position in the pop cultural canon.

What's hilarious, I think, is the video is Fosse inspired from a choreographed routine he made starring his dancer lover Gwen Verdon called "Mexican Breakfast" which birthed the brilliantly in sync adaptation shown below. Enjoy.

Remember When the VMA's Didn't Suck?

There are certain evolutions in popular culture that I've totally gotten myself onto the band wagon for, many, in fact. I'm not the type to bitch about reality t.v. or the media's changing of landscape increasing subjectivity over hard facts or celebrity over talent (celebrity is a talent in by its own merit, media manipulation is a lucrative and challenging skill to develop). But the VMA's is a tradition in entertainment that I feel has shifted its appeal to be one that is, well, really unappealing.

The VMA's were always to me pop culture's shameless mockery of itself. It was like the night where everyone that had been feature in an issue of US Weekly throughout the curse of that calendar year could show up and act as complete caricatures of themselves and the identities that the had guided the media in having constructed for them. It was like a costume party where every celebrity in attendance went as themselves. For example:



Do you think that Geri Halliwell would ever wear that nauseatingly patriotic, leather bathing suit thing with a faux-fur coat unless she wanted to be self referential in that she, and her group, has become a commodity for the American public? Absolutely not. But the VMA's provided celebrities and viewers with circus style exaggerations of entertainers' personal brands.

Last year, when I watched the VMA's with a room full of friends who were, like me, expecting the typical freak show of celebrity that we look forward to each year, we were at the very least disappointed in what we saw. It was as if everyone had pre-partied for the award show by having a group bible study and moving furniture around for the post-party hoe down they were planning. I mean, when the most highly antcipated appearance at an event is the Jonas Brothers, you hafta just expect cold oatmeal. When was the VMA's anything more than a mildly pathetic obligation on your social calendar and guarantee that something excusably inappropriate and outlandish might occur? Why do these nit-wit baby tween idols take al this so seriously?

Wwhen watching the low brow cultural enthusiast's event of the year, I don't want Jordin Sparks lecturing me about sexual habits weaing an unflattering strapless dress. I want something harmlessly riskier. I want Vanessa Hudgeons out there in a nude suit making jokes about how the only way she can get press is if she keeps "accidentally" showing up naked all over the internet. I want celebrities spitting back in the faces of the American public trying to police their behavior, not trying to further their appeal and make themselves accessible to the straight laced, midwestern twelve-year-old girl.

Bring back the absurdity MTV! It's just not a sufficient amount of absurdity that you're hosting an award show based on music videos when you don't even show them anymore. I want shameless self-mockery! I want you to show me just how self aware you are of the product that you and the media and their interactons with the public have helped to shape! Just do eaxctly what you used to do, have britney and Christina present an award together, have Mariah and Whitney do it wearing the same dress! Have a mob of Eminem look alikes swarm Radio City. Something that will regain my faith in your programming.

You could start with bringing back a hell of a lot more performances like this:











And a lot less of anything involving Katy Perry or anyone who got their start on the Disney Channel post Mickey Mouse Club. Thanks, good luck tonight, I'll be watching.

How Bout a Round of Applause?

Chris Brown appeared on Larry King last night in his first televised interview since the Feb. 8 incident where he assaulted girlfriend Rihanna and Breezy came across as, at least, a bit insincere, desperate to salvage his public image, and still unfortunately unaware of the greater implications of his actions or his motivations behind them.

First things first, Chris, I wouldn't exactly call this a sky blue, bow-tie occassion. Yes I understand you're sitting next to your mom and trying to stress your youth through this interview ("I'm only 20...I'm not a man fully yet") and trying to paint this all as some foolish "mistake". But that attitude already pisses me off. So why exacerbate with a questionably juvenile choice of apparel? Moving on to more substance...

CB appeared with his mother, Joyce Hawkins, a survivor of domestic abuse, and his lawyer, Mark Geragos, who did a little too much of the talking, naturally. Larry started the line of questioning by asking if whether or not the sentencing of five years probation and spend upwards of 1,400 hours doing community service was fair. Chris, eager to seem agreeable, said that it was the law and if the law saw fit then that would be a just punishment. Fair enough. Whatever.

Things got frustrating for me as a viewer when larry tried to drive the line of questioning away from the now and back to the then to try and understand and provide viewers and fans with a greater explanation for all of this than "Like...Wow" or "I made a mistake." Chris seemed persistent on keeping any and all information about the night itself private claiming not wanting to violate his or Rihanna's privacy.

I completely understand the mentality of not wanting to force a victim to relive the details of a horrific occurence, especially through the words of her assailant. But what Brown doesn't seem to understand is that he is not coming across as convincing in having come to terms wit what he did and why he did it. Not once during the interview did he verbalize aloud what he was guilty of in terms legal or otherwise. It seems obvious that he's in a rush to save his image and get back closer to where he was, rather than truly come to some sort of reconciliation and understanding to himself or his fanbase of the violent acts he committed.

Everybody saw those pictures. It is insulting and offensive to refer to whatever transpired that made those pictures a reality as a "mistake." It trivializes the incident and its greater implications. And unprofessional public announcements like this one, "I ain't a monster," challenging his fans and deeming others as haters who've always been haters, further demonstrates how he's trivialized the incident to himself and made it seem as though its severity is a construction of the media.

I work with a woman who is convinced that Breezy will be forgiven. "They forgave R. Kelly. They're forgiving Whitney right now." Though I'm not as sure (and those seem slightly irrelevant examples to cite...nobody forgave Bobby or Ike). Somebody's going to forgive him and I think that he is deserving of that forgiveness, that's on the terms that, once he can prove to the public that he does understand what he did and why he did it. I feel as though that's the only way to prevent violence like this is to understand its cause and alternatives for it.

Chris, not to belabor the point, really doesn't seem to get it. And as a side note, quit likening yourself to MJ. You may be a helluva dancer but Michael was nver as dependent on bullshit auto-tune and generic catchy hooks as you are. And just one last thing, your new single fucking blows, for reasons both listed in this post, and objectively.