James Brown was Elvis before white people were ever exposed to their own flavor of superhereo.  James Brown did everything ole’ E.P. did, and much more.  He wore jumpsuits when he was SKINNY.  Oh yeah, they were necessitated by a gut that made you wonder if Pelvis had swallowed a medicine ball.  James’s all-in-one funkitards were necessitated by being cool beyond belief.  O.K., so there is all that “doing coke” and “beating women” mantra that has been attached to the Godfather of Soul - but, who ain’t snorted some shit, then smacked a bitch up?  I mean, I haven’t, but they go hand in hand because you paid for all the stuff, and this friend of the girl you’re tryin’ to show Papa’s Brand New Bag to is doin’ all the blow.  I don’t mean tokin’ on Mr. Head and his two hairy friends.  I mean shovin’ shit up her nostrils, which she shed no cash for like she was Devastator from Transformers 2.  People who don’t pay for their stuff are the equivalent to a party Shop Vac.

Anyway, I think that James should have been allowed one EPO worthy beatdown due to his contributions to music.  He brought in the straight haired black man to rock and or roll.  I mean, that right there took hours in a hair-stylist’s chair.  Then, for no good reason, he came up with the sideman who played no instrument, but just yelled shit from the side, and put the cape on him when he fake passed out at the end of a show.  The only way to get a job like this is to have a professional Michael Buffer-like yell and/or be related to, or know a good friend of, the main man.  If you ever listen to James in all his wonderful mint – I recommend the box set Showtime, which my parents bought me for my 13th DOB – you hear this cat yellin’ in the background repeating whatever James just said.  He repeats such musically groundbreaking things as “Yeah”, “Right on” and “Cold got to be.”  Can you imagine holding the cape of a cat wearing a jumpsuit, and waiting for the signal to go cover him up?  There is a lot of pressure in that job.  What if James went to his knees during “Please please”?  If you ran out and caped him prior to his time to bolt, he would be pissed.  Not Chuck Berry “Hail Hail Rock n’ Roll” angry, but similar.

As to the jumpsuit, James gets more cool points than Pelvis.  James wore it for style - as opposed to comfort.  James never had to shop at a tent and awning store, whereas Pelvis’s underwear could have been used at a beach to parasail.  James broke out this style without the Intercontinental Championship belt look.  His jumpsuits were one piece of funk, and that’s all he needed.  Pelivis needed the championship belt to remind him of the days he was skinny, and to impress the chicks he still lured as a lardball.  Believe it or not, a belt gives a man a lot of confidence – i.e. boxing title belts. Something huge that’s bedazzled with chains draws attention to your weenie, and if it works, any women that go home with you either want to steal it, try to win the title, or find out what is underneath.

James was a good as it gets.  I think he was even one of those superstars that had all the illegitimate kids and a second wife and shit.  I don’t know.  I could just be castin’ asparagus.  In either event, he could throw down like no other.  Get Showtime, and the most amazing thing you’ll notice is how many rap songs sample from JB.  If he was sampled any more, he’d be a taste test item at the Sam’s Club on Sunday.  James Brown was a bad mofo probably before mofo became a term.  He was a black man with straight hair who could sing and dance.  What more did you need in the ’60′s?  This guy is so bad ass, he got to write and perform the theme song for the last real Rocky movie, Rocky IV.  In my Church of Rocky we do not believe in any other Rocky part IV.  I ain’t even going into the Blue Brothers, cause if you’re reading my gear without seeing that movie multiple times, a lot of the shit I sling ain’t going to make sense.

Anyway, to all the James Brownophiles out there, I say “Uh. Hahhhhhhhh. Yeeeeeeah, good gawd.  Get on the good foot, and do the bad thing.”

Unless you’re like Charlie Sheen and have been living under a huge rock of cocaine and assorted porn stars, there’s a good chance you’re aware of the war of insane words he’s been waging through the media over the last couple of weeks.  It began with accusations of erratic behavior spurred by drug abuse and a few subsequent stints in “home rehab,” then ultimately ended with CBS deciding to cancel the remaining episodes of Two and Half Men‘s eighth season.  Now, it’s not like Carlos Estevez is the first celebrity to spout off like a crazy person at Hyde Park’s Speakers’ Corner; but it’s obvious that Sheen has taken his lunacy to a level that would even frighten the voices in Gary Busey’s head.  There has been a plethora of peculiar quotes from the actor to choose from – and seemingly more to follow with every passing day – but here are some visual representations of my favorites thus far.  Thanks to my friend J-Dizzle for help with the Photoshop magic (click on pics for full size):

“I’m tired of pretending I’m not a total bitchin’ rock star from Mars.” (In other words, he’s a “Marsheen”)

“I think it was Nails that said, and I was really flattered that he got it right, he might be Nails, but I’m bayonets. I’m battle tested bayonets…”

“People are mystified by this odyssey that refuses to quit calling itself Charlie Sheen.”

“I don’t live in the middle anymore. That’s where you get slaughtered. That’s where you get embarrassed. From the prom queen.”

“I am on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available. If you try it once, you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.”

“I am not Thomas Jefferson.  He was a pussy.”

What in the hell happened to the purple leather - not quite a jumpsuit, but almost a super hero - costume-wearing Eddie Murphy of the Raw days?  Hell, I’ll even take the quasi-pink leather of the Delirious days if it means he’ll actually go back to being hardcore funny again.  However, E.M. traded in the leather that hugged his Testiclees (The Greek God of Fertility) like they had just stated their first name and admitted they had a problem for fat suits, novelty teeth, and computer generated animation.  Sure, farts are funny.  Lettin’ one go at the appropriate, strategically placed time (or the inappropriate time) can be funnier than any kick to the tenders.  But as far as I remember, those Nutty Professor movies marked the disappearance of the Eddie Murphy people like me once loved.  The coupe de ville of those two flicks was him playing all the different Klump characters, and blowin’ it out like they worked for Atmos.  Admittedly, the first 10 times you see it, it’s funny.  After that, it’s just him with a bad wig, wearin’ a fat suit, a bunch of makeup, and some editors splicin’ all this flatulence together.  Once again, if by some weird chance you’ve never seen Tropic Thunder – which I refer to more often than the phone book for CVS’s pharmacy – you should.  “Jeff Portnoy” (Jack Black) made his whole career off a movie franchise called The Fatty’s; and in the scenes they show from the movie trailer, all they do is fart at the dinner table a la The Nutty Professor.  So, I guess the only thing worse than not being talked about, is not being made fun of.

E.M. was about as funny a mofo as there was at one time.  He told all those stories about being poor, and cussed like a sailor who just got a below the belt piercing.  But if you watch any tapes of his stand-up, it wasn’t offensive.  The harshness of his vernacular fit the lowdown that he was layin’ forth.  In betwixt all the laughter, you didn’t really have time to keep a scorecard of all motherfuckers, goddamns, fucks, and whatnot.  The routine he did about Bill Cosby was great because, first of all, he imitated his voice and it was dead on.  Second, he told The Cos to fuck off at the end, which in and of itself was shockingly hilarious because it was putting Mr. Family value’s name in the same routine with the F Bomb.  Telling Dr. Huxtable to gargle your gonards takes big cojones, no matter which way you look at it.  He did this no telling how many nights a week, for however long the tour was when he wore that crazy ass leather suit.  That thing was so tight, it probably required three guys, four c-clamps, ball bearings, and a quart of 10W-40 oil just to get it off.  If you looked very closely at his family traditions, you could actually see his pulse, which made the suit very safe.  When he was sick on tour, a doctor could just sit in the front row and monitor his vital signs without having to actually examine him.

Before he kicked ass standing up, he was funnier than that other black guy on SNL, too.  I mean, seriously, Velvet Jones?  After seeing him dressed up in a toupée flogging that book, who didn’t want to be a ho?  There was also the skit where he dressed up as a white guy to see what caucasians were all really up to, and found out we give away free newspapers and drinks to each other on the bus.  I mean, race relations in this country came a long way after he played Gumby.  Before him, nobody could have imagined Gumby as being black.  He’d always just been green.  The only people up for that role were Lou Ferrigno or Bill Bixby, but Murphy took it to new heights.  Singing the song about “Hymie Town” after Jessie Jackson used it in a statement took guts, and he made it funny.  Plus, that goofy wig and the way he holds the mic while doing it is good stuff.  Who hasn’t tried to convince a member of the opposite sex to play Celebrity Hot Tub?  “You got to get in water!  Hey!  Gonna make ya sweata!  Huh!  Good Gawd!”  And if there has ever been a fake assassination more funny than that of Buckwheat, I haven’t seen it – J.R.’s was boring, and not funny at all.  Before the dude shot him, he said, “Hey, Mr. Wheat?”  Mr. Wheat?  That’s funny right there.  I can remember watching that live with my cousin, and thinking it was real.  Some people remember where they were when the marine/government/mob killed John F. Kennedy.  My generation has the memory of where they were the night Buckwheat was shot.

Now it seems as though he has tapped into the intestines of family humor, and is riding that gastric train all the way to bank.  He was the voice of Donkey in a bevy of Shrek films, and Shrek farts as often as Rosie O’Donnell after 10% off day at the Pork Peddler.  We already touched on the Nutty Professor films, when he fat suited and farted his way to the bank.  Then he made some movie called Norbit, which sounds like what you would call a large man who had something very small in his pants – and I never saw it.  He did Bowfinger with Steve Martin and somebody; I don’t know if that finger is where the arrow in Martin’s head came from, because I forgot to tie anything around my finger to remind me see it.  And who can forget his adventures as a lunar night club owner named Pluto Nash?  I know Eddie’s tried to, since it’s lauded as the worst box office flop of all-time.  About the only non-family thing he’s done in the past fifteen years was pick up that prostitute that may, or may not have been a Transformer (more than meets the eye was definitely true in that case).  E.M. told the cops that he was just giving he/she a ride, so maybe he was doing research for a sequel to Taxi Driver.

I understand that E.M. has probably earned a ton of duckets making families across the world happy by playing flatulent, one-dimensional characters.  That’s great, and a fartwhile dream.  I just don’t understand why a man who has as much pure talent and money – assuming he didn’t go all Wesley Snipes – won’t go back to his roots.  I think it’s time to break the Crisco back out, lube up, throw on the leather, get back on stage and tear it up.  I know I’m not the only fool out there who would pay good money to see it.  There may be some hope on the horizon since it’s been reported that another Beverly Hills Cop is in the works, but don’t be surprised if it turns out to be a Pixar production.

(Part I of Eddie Murphy’s Law)

Fraser doing his best Derek Zoolander impersonation

What is the deal with all these hand sanitizers.  What’s that?  Oh.  I’m being informed that I’ve already been down that highway before.  So, other than The Former Governator, Christoper “Don’t ask me to get up” Reeves and Brad Pitt, has there ever been another actor in the history of cinema who was never been in a realistic movie other than Brendan Fraser?  To begin with, this guy was supposedly born in some weird ass place known as Indianapolis, Indiana.  Yeah, sure.  Like Greeks and Friends of The Firewater have ever set up shop together.

As far as I remember, Brendan Fraser started off his leading man “make believe” career with the movie Encino Man.  This flick also featured Frodo’s hobbit lover, who went on to play football at Notre Dame despite his diminutive stature, and Pauly Shore.  What’s a Pauly Shore?  Anyway, this movie was essentially about a caveman (Fraser) who is defrosted and comes back to life in modern day California.  You know how I know that story was complete bullshit?  He never flogged any type of insurance or mutual funds the entire movie.  Everyone who’s anyone knows that cavemen are either insurance salesman, stockbrokers, or unfrozen lawyers.  This bastard started off less believable than evolution, dinosaurs, and the moon landing combined.  Sure, you can point to the “evidence” that all that shit happened; but what book do you have saying it did not happen, because it says so?  Baaaaah.

School Ties was one of the next movies that came up on the phonydar.  In it, Fraser played a Jewish quarterback who enrolled at an all-Ayran private school.  I think the school’s name was Auschwitz Academy, and their mascot was the Hitlerite.  Despite all this, his character wanted to go to this school on a scholarship, so he could better himself and wait out being ostracized by his peers.  A good ostracization can do the soul good . And somehow, none of these derma craniums picked up on the fact that he had a harp looking thing with candles in his room that burned for 8 nights in December.  His ”outing” didn’t occur until near the end of the first semester, when he started getting rather gentile with a local hottie that Good Will Hunting wanted to solve.  None of his teammates picked up on the fact that he had a star, which was different than the pentagram on his necklace.  No one even noticed that he used matzoh balls to fish for gefilte fish, which he told them were actually jewgills.  This movie was both dumb and dumber than anything your Mummy made up at bed time.

I am not even going to try to get into the rest of his scripted stupidity, because I could write a whole book on Furry Vengeance alone. According to my source(s) – Wikipedia and IMDB – Fraser has over 50 credits in TV and film.  Not only is that depressing and mind-boggling, it’s also way too much ignorance for me to spend my time pontificating on.  I mean, damn.  I prefer to keep my thoughts centered on some of the more meaningful shit that’s out there in the world, like farts, baboon asses, and TECMO Bowl.

Today would have marked the 37th birthday of Chad Butler, a talented rapper/producer who was known to his many fans as Pimp C.  Chad was one-half of the rap duo the Underground Kingz, or UGK, along with his longtime friend Bernard “Bun B” Freeman.  Pimp C and Bun B formed their group back in 1987 while living in Port Arthur, Texas, and by 1992 they had signed with Jive Records, and soon released their first album, Too Hard to Swallow.  The first UGK song I ever heard came back in 1996 after a friend of mine bought their third album, Ridin’ Dirty.  At one time or another, you’ve probably heard someone say that a song or album “changed their life.”  I’ve always thought that sounded pretentious and ridiculous, so I’m not going to go that far; but I will say that after listening to UGK once, they became the measuring stick by which I compared all other rappers/rap music from that point forward.  Despite being featured in hit songs like Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin” and Three Six Mafia’s “Sippin’ on Some Syrup,” UGK never really achieved the mainstream success that many of their contemporaries enjoyed until the release of their last studio album.  In August of 2007, their fifth studio album, the self-titled Underground Kingz was released.  Unlike any of the group’s previous efforts, the double album reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 200 album charts, and the song “International Player’s Anthem” became the group’s only single to chart on the Billboard Hot 100 pop charts.  Less than four months later, however, Pimp C was found dead at the Mondrian Hotel in West Hollywood, California after firefighters responded to a 9-1-1 call.  The official cause of death was listed as a “Promethazine/Codeine syrup overdose combined with sleep apnea.”  He was only 33 years old.  Given the current state of hip-hop (shittier) and the rise of “hip-pop” (shittiest), it’s unlikely that there will ever be another rap duo like Pimp and Bun again.  Thankfully, their music will live on, and their fanbase will continue to grow as new fans of hip-hop find themselves listening to a UGK song for the first time.

Today is the somewhat official birthday of one of the most famed and mysterious gunslingers in the history of America’s Wild West era, Billy the Kid.  Although there is no dependable record of either the actual date he was born or his birthplace, many prominent historians believe William Henry Bonney (or possibly Henry McCarty) was born on the eve of the Civil War in New York City.  His exploits as a frontier outlaw also widely vary.  Some view Billy as a cold-blooded killer who was responsible for the death of 20 men, while others consider him to be an early “champion of the oppressed.”  Like other legendary figures throughout history, Bonney lived his life in virtual anonymity and only gained notoriety after death.  There have been numerous books, TV shows, and movies that have revolved around Billy the Kid’s life over the years, but one in particular comes to mind every time I hear his name – the 1988 movie Young Guns.  The movie’s cast not only contained a veritable who’s who of popular 80′s actors, it also featured one of Emiliooo Estevez’s best performances (outside of Mighty Ducks I, II, & III, of course) as a charismatic and borderline crazy William Bonney.  So to celebrate what may or may not be the birthday of Billy the Kid, here is the entire movie in all its Blaze of Glory.

(Hit Red Button

If you’re into the whole brevity thing and don’t feel like watching the movie in its entirety, at least watch the greatest scene involving a peyote trip in the history of cinema.

Paris Hilton strickened with Polio…is what the headline would be in a perfect world

So yesterday I turned on the TV and settled in to kill some brain cells after a long day’s work; as I was flipping through the channels, I came across a show called TMZ.  I had heard of the website and knew what the show was about, but since I had never see it before, I decided to check it out.  After watching about two minutes of the absolute rubbish that is TMZ, I got that feeling deep down in my stomach.  When I returned from the bathroom, I decided that the growing trend of celebrity worship and the demographic this show represents needed to be discussed.  For those like me who have never had the displeasure to see a show like TMZ before, it’s a simple concept that is now widely used in all media outlets:  Treat celebrity gossip and happenings as if it were actual newsworthy material – and if at all possible, use idiotic humor that makes Carrot Top look like Richard Pryor.  I honestly can’t understand the appeal of this information, and would even go so far as to question the overall intellect of those infatuated with the lives of celebrities.

The cornerstone of the gossip business is based on the relentless coverage of actors or actresses (heirs/heiresses, musicians, and athletes are the secondary players).  Let’s say, hypothetically, you had a reason to be interested in what a person whom you don’t know, and have never even met, ate at Taco Bell today.  Even if that kind of thing tickled your pickle, why would you focus your attention on a person whose occupation requires little to no talent?  Just because they have money and fame, that doesn’t necessarily make someone interesting.  And I refuse to believe the ”acting is hard work” quote I have heard so many times before, from actors.  Acting is just another form of playing pretend, which is a childhood activity that I continue to put into practice every day.  During the 9-5 hours you can find me acting like I am busy doing something, and intensely focused on the daily tasks at hand.  Or you might see me interacting with a fellow employee, and if you didn’t know any better, from all outward appearances it would look like I was actually giving a shit.  If I happen to go to a bar or nightclub and strike up a conversation with a female, I can feign interest in the story about the time she drank 8 Jager Bombs and threw up in her sorrority sister’s new BMW.  There is a little actor/actress in all of us, we just don’t have a million dollar budget, script, or cameras recording the plot.

The other problem with this fad is the people who support the many magazines, websites, and TV shows that specialize in the dumbing-down of America.  How much more could an individual who follows the celebrity scene accomplish in life if they read Time Magazine instead of Us Weekly?   The growing aversion people have for gaining useful knowledge has reached monumental proportions in this country.  It speaks volumes when a person is truly concerned about Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore’s marriage, but care little for the world’s current state and the many problems we all face.  The worst part of this reality is that the latter will greatly affect their lives, as well as those in future generations; and the last time I checked Ashton Kutcher has not outlined a plan to fix the U.S. economy.  But if he did, I am sure it would involve trucker hats and Twitter.

Unfortunately this mindset is fast becoming the norm for far too many people.  I think the late, great George Carlin echoed this sentiment best when he proclaimed:

“The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in opposite directions.” (Napalm and Silly Putty, 2001)

I am not going to say that celebrity worship is solely responsible for the deterioration of our crumbling society, but if it continues to dominate our culture in the coming years, I’d say Mr. Carlin’s hypothesis will not be proven false any time soon.

I usually reserve birthday well-wishes for celebrities that have starred in my favorite movies and TV shows, influential comedians, or band members/bands that were responsible for popular songs/albums.  However, today’s birthday bio is dedicated to a classical musician whom I only know of due to his unusual name, and a seemingly obscure reference from my favorite sitcom of all-time.  Yo-Yo Ma turns 55 today, and in case you’re as unfamiliar with him as me, he’s a musical virtuoso who began playing the cello at age four, was performing in front of audiences at five, and had played for Presidents Kennedy and Eisenhower by the time he was seven.  After high school, Yo-Yo enrolled at the Julliard School of Music, then briefly attended Columbia University, and eventually earned his bachelor’s degree from Harvard in 1976.  During this time, he also played with several famous orchestras and released albums that showcased his array of talents, which soon lead to both worldwide acclaim and fame.  Mr. Ma has released well over 60 albums and won sixteen Grammy Awards over the course of his illustrious career, and his extensive repertoire includes genres beyond classical music – such as American bluegrass, traditional melodies from China and South America, and even a collaboration with vocalist Bobby McFerrin.  And yet despite these numerous accomplishments and accolades, in my mind, his name will always be synonymous with the two-part episode “The Pitch”/”The Ticket” from Seinfeld.

Videos that actually include Yo-Yo Ma
1994 Performance on David Letterman
“While My Guitar Gently Weeps” with India.Arie & Santana
“Hush Little Baby” with Bobby McFerrin

Today is the 60th birthday of John Landis, a legendary director who should be no stranger to fans of classic comedy and horror films, or Michael Jackson videos.  I can say without reservations that Landis is definitely my favorite comedy director, and seeing as how he’s responsible for five movies which would be included in my all-time top 10 – Animal House, Blues Brothers, Trading Places, Three Amigos, & Coming to America - there isn’t even a close second.  He is also considered a pioneer in the comedy-horror genre, which is a direct result of his 1981 cult-classic An American Werewolf in London.  Yet, the director’s most famous piece of work to date is still probably his collaboration with Michael Jackson on the music video for “Thriller.”  By combining his theatrical vision with the musical talents of the King of Pop, Landis created a 14-minute masterpiece that many consider to be the greatest video ever.  This opinion is backed up by the fact that it became the first music video to be inducted into the Library of Congress (as chosen by the National Film Registry) in 2009; plus, the choreography is still imitated and referenced in many modern TV shows, movies, and even a Filipino correctional institute.  Since I already featured pretty much every clip from my favorite Landis comedies in the “Comedy Throwback” posts, here is a look at some behind-the-scenes footage that was taken during the filming of “Thriller”:

According to Wiki, Landis is currently involved in two new film projects that are supposedly slated for a release in 2010.  The first is a remake of the 1971 British “black comedy” Burke and Hare, starring Simon Pegg (Shaun of the Dead) and Andy Serkis (Sméagol/Gollum in The Lord of the Rings); the other is a crime thriller titled Some Guy Who Kills People, which revolves around a small-town loser-turned-serial killer.  In my opinion, it will be hard for him to top the success he has had in the past; but on the other hand, I still think both of them will be better than most of the shit that hits the silver screen these days.

Before I grew up – those who nude me in high school would probably say I have grown more “out” than “up”, whereas I prefer to say I look like the guy who ate me in high school – I remember Archie Bunker’s daughter coming on TV without All in her Family, crying and begging people to donate money to some foundation that helps out poor children in foreign countries.  I actually remember her being the same size as her TV persona when I first saw the commercials, and then, by what I recall to be the end of its run, she had started to expand as much as the foundation’s fund raising efforts.  I believe, by the end, they were showing informational films to the villages/tribes/click-click speaking people by getting Sally to wear to white pants, and strategically placing a doughnut on the ground for her to bend over and pick up.