The Art of Fleeing

Since those beloved 70s disasters flicks--Earthquake, Airport, etc.--fleeing hasn't been done nearly as cool. Check the rest at: http://blog.moviefone.com/2006/05/03/cinematical-7-pre-poseidon-guide-to-70s-disaster-flicks/. Now within one week, fleeing has been re-defined for the iPhone app generation. That's right, not that generation with 2g phones endorsed by, in retrospect, really creepy minimalist art deco (I don't even know what that is), but a new generation with apps that can buy apps. That is app-licious. Without turning this into an article about fleeing from Apple or a bad girl Eve having a 10g in Eden, let's get back to that constant tease: what fleeing am I f@$!ing talking about?

First of all, there has been all this Wisconsin backwater bull with the demoncats fleeing the state. Union workers want to keep the right to negotiate. When we made the constitution, we negotiated the little bits and morsels and cooked up this America we now see today. But, whoops, we kept the thing on the stove too damn long. And we're burned. Burned out too. Then came Wisconsin. Wisconsin is like a bad dessert after you've been scraping off that burned shit on the corner of your rye toast when you let the cheddar combust instead of simmer. The trouble, dare I say curse, of this country is catering to the people who negotiate. Did King George III negotiate? No, he did not. He threw our asses to the wolves and sent us on a mission to f&#$ over Native Americans by getting a racial minority to actually think the word Native is PC. That is cold of Georgie Boy, but it got the job done. In that rare case, we didn't flee. They did. And, by the way, can you imagine Rush Limbaugh and the royals together? No, I cannot. I like my divas on separate continents. But I digress from my digression.

And just this morning, I read on CNN about why Americans are fleeing Libya. That's right. The article couldn't be about American's fleeing Libya. It is about "why" Americans are fleeing. Why implies there is some reason to stay, as if in this post-common sense world we have to justify leaving to make sure, you know, we're PC in doing so: http://www.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/02/25/tekbali.libya.evacuation/index.html?hpt=C1. I can't see one possible reason to stay in that country, save if you want to watch Gadhafi go into apoplexy the way his father did when he gave birth to Gadhafi in that bunker back in the 40s. Can you imagine if the Brits ran a title "Why did Jews flee Germany"? I don't think media back in the Nazi Dark Ages would throw little veiled pokes at their Semite readers -- did you really, really, think about how your fleeing Germany would make the Germans feel about themselves?

In further fleeing news, on Cuban Broadcasting Company, the cigar might be extinguished for good: http://www.aintitcool.com/node/48632. That's right. Charlie Sheen's magnum opus might be over on the family friendly network. I guess the studio heads figured icing the deal with a cuban and a line off a prostitute was just recreational. A once a week handshake of a different sort. Instead, it was a sign of things to come. I didn't hate the show, but wasn't its biggest fan either. What I'm scared of now is how many more crime shows CBS can muster in its line up. I hear they're going to pilot with one starring Minnie Driver. She can bust produce vendors, and do an impression of her Goodie Will co-star saying "How bout them apples?" No, I'll pass. I'll frankly flee from that show the same way anyone with a heart should from MTV's Skins. What remains is the question of whether CBS can come up with another show with a c, i, and s in the title. I mean, there they had CSI. Then CSI Miami. Then CSI New York. Then NCIS, which I've heard pronounced NCSI. So how about SIC, Specialized Interrogation and Communication. A show about figuring out a better way to say "Can you hear me now?" You in Afghania, in the service, and need a cell phone call stat? Call SIC and they're there. SIC also does wiretaps and rescues senators from Manchurian Candidate situations where radio waves are involved. So SIC really is the next best thing - a technological thriller procedural that respects and supports the armed services and can also spawn cheapie episodes with some douchebag looking into a computer monitor like I am right now. If being that douchebag entitles me to union standard pay, I'm in.

And with that, we're back to unions. That's right. I guess those guys might have, *cough*, been right. We're burned, battered, over saturated like Arod with CDiaz and that bag of popcorn, and we're Americans. And we should keep those unions we fled years ago to get. We're Americans and we're proud to be the fleeing type, because if there's one thing this nation does, it flees with the best of them. Right down to fleeing from England, we know how to get moving when it counts. And that makes me- *fleeing from Steve Nizer for not writing a column in a month*.

Until next time, my fleeting and fleeing readership.

Bubbly Bigotry: Pepsi Max Edition

I drink Pepsi Max. Whoa. I was even drinking Pepsi Max during the Super Bowl to get a nice little caffeine buzz going. I mean, those 70 odd mg's of caffeine really help the football focus. So, anyway, there I am drinking this 70 mgs of caffeinated Pepsi Max goodness when there's a commercial about an angry black woman "accidentally" assaulting a white woman with a Pepsi Max while "innocently" attempting to domestically assault her beau into good dietary practices. This commercial is just not offensive, it is dangerous. I mean, first of all, is there a hidden vibe that black men cannot be with white woman, or said white woman will take a Pepsi Max to the torso? Secondly, how is it okay that men take abuse from women in this ad? As many on Youtube point out (a natural reservoir of untapped social commentary if you can get past the gay jokes and rampant geeking), if these roles were reversed and a man was throwing a Pepsi Max at his wife, it would be WRONG for a) suggesting hitting a woman is funny and b) suggesting that the woman should lose weight to please her man. But men are fatasses, so this is all good. And yes, I really just did do the PC argument even after my past rants.

I'm on my meds and I'm drinking a Diet Coke, so I'm running on more energy and goodwill than the whole internet was after each Sunday's Mully-Sculder will they bone or won't they sex flame war (EST 1995-2001). None of this is maximumly exciting, except the whole Mulder Scully sex farce bit and maybe the whole 0 carbs bit. And if you don't agree and actually think this ad was awesome, well you're a bad person and will burn in hell. And if you are an atheist, you will not get air conditioning this next summer. And finally, why is the in-shape black man getting yelled at for his diet in the first place? He looks like he could out run his wife, with enough time to spare to run to the Burger King and have it his way. So I'm guessing diabetes isn't the problem, or the Pepsi Max might not be the Holy Grail to imbibe with such gusto and *insert witty, condescending word here*.

And lastly, not all black women are violent and sassy. Yeah, sure, I find a sassy black woman has the potential to be funny. Don't we all? The same way Rosanne or a Tonka truck has the potential to be funny. And while we're at it, let's TRADEMARK "SASSY BLACK WOMAN (TM)" for a weekly comic strip. It might even be less repetitive than the jokes in Dilbert! But in the case of Pepsi Max, it isn't how much Sassy Black Woman you show, it's how psychopathic you make her. This Sassy Master drove her man to drink (Pepsi Max), assaulted a white woman, put her dietary values on others with violence, and fled a crime scene all in a very short window. Even in GTA San Andreas, it is difficult to screw the pooch that much in such a short window. I almost spit up the Pepsi Max, and not in a good sort of way. I'm pissed. And I haven't been drinking (for a change). Angry TV Maven out.

Celeb Showdown #1: Ryan Murphy vs. The Arcade Fire

"They’re not good people, that’s it." Vincent Moon uttered these harsh words in an interview when asked what happened to the Arcade Fire (http://www.eyeweekly.com/music/interview/article/110254). The band started as an indie juggernaut, lulling the hipsters into a fall sense of superiority. But now that they and their fans have been wearing those all-too-tight-jeans for seven years post-Funeral, circulation is finally starting to stop. And when you can't wiggle and jiggle, you become a tad prickly. I guess that's what Moon felt. Add the label "sellout" to their increasing ability to rival Adam Sandler assholedom, and you've got a indie diva hit squad ready to pump out the mediocre mellow mashups over and over. Let's put these douchebags in the right hand corner laddies and gentlemen.

And in the other corner, you have diva Ryan Murphy, the creator of Glee and Nip/Tuck! BOO! As he gets hyped up on pcp, Murphy raves that Kings of Leon wouldn't appear on his sellout creation Glee. "Fuck you, Kings of Leon" warbles Murphy, wondering if he was clever enough with his ripostes that the far classier and witty band might appear on his shit show (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/01/26/kings-of-leon-vs-glee-nathan-followill-fires-back-at-ryan-murphy-in-homophobic-rant_n_814351.html). Glee, as Steve Nizer pointed out, is the type of show where Ryan Seacrest would fit in like dick in glove. Nip/Tuck was the start of this decent into melodramatic overkill. The surgeries, the drugs, the surgeries, the drugs. Wait, did I repeat myself? Sorry, I was trying to flirt with my shrink and got distracted. Anyway, Glee is self-indulgent, if not mildly enjoyable. And Ryan Murphy is the flamboyant supernova that explodes regularly, disintegrating all the decency around him on a weekly basis. Hallelujah.

So now that the both of our contestants are firmly douching it up in their disrespective corners, let's get these two misunderstood artists rumbling for the fun of mankind. That's right. Another reality show about a self-absorbed band past their prime and a gay showrunner who rumbles and tumbles if an autistic 10 year old gives him a funny look. They live together in a homeless shelter cum soup kitchen, doing the decency for the lowly commoners while behind the scenes they bitch about the conditions, and more importantly, each other. The winner gets to leave first and get back to making overrated crap. The other, *shiver*, has to stay until a celebrity jury made up of former reality tv stars determines that they have learned at least one important life lesson. It's terrible, it's degrading, it's educational. And it's great tv. Maybe not HBO. But HBO kinda is sucking ever since they cancelled Rome. Bastards.