Saturday, June 4, 2016

R.I.P. Muhammed Ali

"If they can make penicillin out of moldy bread, they can sure make something out of you."--Muhammed Ali
There once was a man named Cassius Clay: a black man from Kentucky named after a white man from Kentucky. He was a helluva boxer, winning a few Golden Gloves, an Olympic gold medal and the heavyweight championship. Of the world (not like "of Kentucky" cause so what).

Clay converted to a religion called the Nation of Islam (NOI), either a contemporary American religion or an anti-white hate group full of terrorists and haters who hate America and want to destroy it and who definitely don't want to make America great again.

The NOI considers white people to be the devil, so no matter how you want to characterize them, you have to admit they're paying attention. Whether created in a lab on the isle of Patmos or merely haunted by the immortal spirits of billions of dead aliens killed by a hydrogen bomb after being stacked in a Hawaiian volcano, you've got to admit that white people have been the devil to blacks. Then we steal their culture, imprison them for crimes that whites don't ever serve time for, complain about how they're all in prison and not home raising their kids, shoot them in the face when their front license plate (the second most important license plate!) isn't properly affixed and lie about it in the official report, and claim that they hate America.

We are fun (and by "we" I mean we whites, which I assume you are what with me not knowing any blacks and doubting someone who doesn't know me would bother reading this... you might be Asian though).

No wonder Michelle Obama (never) said "kill whitey."

He changed his name to Muhammed Ali because, duh, he hated America.

And he refused to be inducted into the military during the Vietnam War. Clearly he hated America. Or possibly he understood that we were fighting the Vietcong not to keep America safe, but to keep Vietnam open to McDonald's, Coca-Cola, Bank of America, American Airlines, Hormel and, I don't know, AT&T.
"My conscience won't let me go shoot my brother, or some darker people, or some poor hungry people in the mud for big powerful America. And shoot them for what? They never called me nigger, they never lynched me, they didn't put no dogs on me, they didn't rob me of my nationality, rape and kill my mother and father... Shoot them for what? How can I shoot them poor people? Just take me to jail."--Muhammed Ali

It took courage to fight and it also took courage to object. I'm sure he was offered a position in the First Athletics Unit which would have kept him stateside and saved the country some embarrassment, but he stayed true to his principles. He was convicted of draft evasion in 1967 but, the American justice system being unprepared for a black man with financial resources, managed to stay free awaiting appeal via a $10,000 bond.

After that he fought: he fought the conviction; he fought to get his ability to box reinstated throughout the country; he fought people in the boxing ring (and basically beat all of them).

He had a way with words. He was as much poet and athlete (which in no way is meant to diminish his credentials as an athlete).

And he defined swagger. I don't know if Kanye West cites Ali as a role model, but they both enjoy(ed) healthy levels of self-esteem.

Ali was the first living legend of my lifetime where I understood that status while it was happening. I'm certain there are others I didn't appreciate at the time. I understood Ali was the greatest, in large part because he would remind us of that, at age 8--I would not appreciate Ethel Merman for another 20 years. Ethel lacked a penchant for self-promotion.
"It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe."--Muhammed Ali
I'm going to wrap this here. Ali was a far more transformative figure of the American 20th century than this might suggest, so I recommend reading a real obituary if you want to understand his place in the grand scheme of things better.

Ali was a Grammy nominee.

Rest in peace dude.

Song of the Day: "Atomic Number"

Sometimes when talented performers work together the result is magic.

But not always.

Someone should write about that.



Song: "Atomic Number"
Artist: case/lang/veirs

Bootystition

Consider yourself mashed up.

Little Things That Give Me Hope

Why would seeing this decal on the back of a RAV4 give me hope? And is that hope a new hope? Nope. It just seems hauntingly familiar to a new hope.

First, because it's fucking awesome.

Step three: profit.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Song of the Day: "I'm a Weirdo"

Adam Andy Samberg's apparent moratorium on appearing shirtless seems to be over based on the commercials for Popstar: Never Stop Stopping.

While it's not likely to get me into a theater, it is all I need to post a song of the day.



Song: "I'm a Weirdo"
Artist: Lonely Island

Monday, May 30, 2016

Song of the Day: "Moon"

Early on in my friendship with Eric he tried to see Beth Orton in concert and was aggravated that the show was sold out and no one would sell him a ticket out front. Stupid fans.

I told him to get tickets to her show in June or expect to gripe about that for the next decade. I'm sure he took that in a playful way.



Song: "Moon"
Artist: Beth Orton