So this is for that.
So, I’m shuttering this blog & moving content over to my main page Kraems & Misbehaviors. You should read that was, cuz it’ll be just like this blog, but with a different name & won’t require me to futz around with secondary blogs and shit.
Good, I’m glad we could all get together on this.
How could you not love that face? What kind of monster are you?
So listen, I recognize that this blog is in serious danger of becoming a place to hero worship comedians, but JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE OVERLY CRITICAL READER. It’s totally gonna be worth it.
For those poor souls who have not basked in the glitz and glamour of master comedian John Mulaney, let’s do a quick primer:
But that’s not all. He’s also a wonderful standup comic. Louis-CK-level funny, but with slightly worse social justice politics (it’s not like he’s super racist or anything — CALM DOWN, LL COOL J — he’s just not quite as able to translate an intelligent dialogue on white privilege into a belly laugh). And unlike Mr. CK, Mulaney leaves you feeling good about life rather than crying out to take a bath in lye. Really, if this post it good for anything, it’s introducing you to the marvelous magic of Mulaney standup.
A few choice examples:
He feels our travel pain.
He offers the best explanation of blacking out drunk available (which I’ve totally never done, Mom, don’t worry and please stop reading my blog this is my me time).
And he knows his way around a juke box (please forgive the picture of Tom Jones. I didn’t make Youtube a terrible place, I just live there.)
In conclusion, speaking as a relatively heterosexual man, I’d totally marry John Mulaney.
There, I said it.
There’s just so much to love about this. For instance it’s not just one but TWO signs that Mike Tyson is literate.
What do you think they do when they hang out?
There’s a lot of awful shit in this world: famine, pandemic, bathroom stall writing. But lucky for us, there’s something to make up for all that. The sort of beauty & wonder that teaches you anew about the magic of being alive.
I’m not talking about children’s laughter or kittens playing with baby monkeys or any of that sentimental pap. Though any fellow traveler of mine will attest to my love of tiny people and things, life’s true magic resides mainly in the existence of hip hop soundtracks in period piece trailers.
If only….
Back before the Sugarhill Gang delivered us from darkness and taught us the magical wonder of rapping to the beat, movie trailers were garbage. If you wanted to have people think your movie is awesome, you’d stick some swooping John Williams arrangement behind a clip of Warren Beaty and Susan Sarandon tickling each other, congratulate yourself on your singular brilliance and go snort a lunchbox full of cocaine.
Luckily, Hollywood has come to its senses and realized that the key to a great trailer is people in outdated clothes brutalizing each other to the sounds of Missy Elliot.
The most recent example is the trailer for 42, which uses the sounds of Jay Z to distract you from Han Solo’s impersonation of drunk Rip Torn.
But there’s so much more! Gangster Squad, the runaway winner for best trailer for a terrible movie (I know you think it’s Sean Penn’s fake nose instead of Jay Z that makes it work, but that’s just the peyote talking).
But the hits keep on coming! American Gangster. BAM:
Take ‘em to church, Jay. And in case you think this is just about Jay Z, Rick Ross holds it down in this here Django Unchained trailer quite nicely (of course, it may be unfair to include a Tarantino film, being that he’s a soundtrack sauvant).
UPDATE: My pal Michelle pointed out that I missed like THE BEST EXAMPLE, because I’m a mindless tool of the state (her words, not mine [actually mine]).
Baz Lurmann’s House Party 3 The Great Gatsby:
In closing, hip hop makes history/historical fiction WAY better. Really, when you think about it all history classes should be taught to the complete works of DMX. Because the children are our future and I for one believe they deserve the very best.
So, I was on a work conference call with a Tumblr representative (who used to work with one of my organization’s affiliates) and I remembered that I have a Tumblr I had totally forgotten about (this one, in fact!). Then I went back and read some of it, and I think I want to do it again. So, prepare your body for the Thunderdome.
Or don’t. It’s your life.
Been really getting into Community lately. For the uninitiated, Community is what happened when NBC decided to go all-in on the Arrested Development TV model (shows that my friends and I LOVE but get crap ratings because the rest of America is watching Two and a Half Men Best-Of specials on loop).
There are a lot of reasons to be grateful for Community, but the biggest is almost certainly its catapulting of Donald Glover to the mainstream.
Now, I’m not gonna pretend I knew who my man DG was before Community. Now that I know who he is, I totally remember him from Bro Rape (the first of many not-quite-ok-but-still-hilarious Donald Glover masterpieces). But since being taken with is performance as the darling Troy, I’ve been chasing his trail of awesome.
Things you should know about Donald Glover:
And now, without further ado, Donald Glover/Childish Gambino in all his glory.
Childish Gambino - Freaks and Geeks
Donald Glover on Obama & being a nerd
Don’t cry, Donald. I’ll be your friend. Please?
Please?
I’m a 30 Rock addict, which puts me in the minority of Americans who consider TV a place for other things than watching Charlie Sheen half-ass jokes in stupid bowling shirts.
(That the wild popularity of Two and a Half Men is about as long-term-disheartening as the 2010 Congressional election-and for the same reason-is a post for another day, perhaps.)
To the extent that this blog has any order or reason to it, I try to avoid rehashing individual movies or episodes of TV shows on it, but the most recent installment of 30 Rock begs an important question: is breaking up with Tina Fey acceptable human behavior?*
I say no. Fervently.
Unbreak-up-able.
The woman is a goddess. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for dates with the foxy librarian lady with TV. I’m gladly spoken for by this woman (not this woman…yet, anyway). Not to mention, I think she’s married to a British dude or something.
However, c’mon. Even fictionally-frumpy Tina Fey is about as appealing as one can make a human.
Genius-level funny? Check.
Attractive-yet-approachable? Check.
Strong, sassy, independent woman? Check.
Wants to eat all the time? Check.
Hates Cleveland, is comfortable with farts and finds sweaters fashionable? Check check and check.
If you subtract the Mark Twain Award, all the SAGs & Emmys, you still have the entertainer/human equivalent of Ben Franklin’s quote about beer:
Tina Fey is proof that God loves us (at least 20-to-30-something hipsters who read the New Yorker) and wants us to be happy.
Some may say that this post went off-prompt really quickly and is really just about how awesome Tina Fey is. Those people can go watch CBS, while I slow-dance with Tina Fey at our imaginary wedding in Atlantis.
A fella can dream, can’t he?
*SPOILER ALERT: on the most recent episode of 30 Rock, somebody breaks up with Tina Fey.
God, don’t you just want to punch his stupid face?
Sorry about the lull in posts lately. It’s been a busy couple weeks. But now I’m back and, thanks to a profoundly unpleasant Saturday Night Live last week, I have a brand new bone to pick.
Like anybody who grew up in the ’90s, the child version of me loved Jim Carrey. The Mask, Ace Ventura, Dumb & Dumber et al. were strong young-adult films, even if they were weirdly sexual for grammar-school-reading-level movies.
As we’ve all gotten older, we’ve watched Jim Carrey skip back and forth from the occasional why-won’t-somebody-nominate-me-for-an-Oscar indie movies to the seemingly endless series of grotesque 90-minute fart jokes (The Number 23 fits into neither category because society has no place for it).
I can’t quite explain what bugs me about the guy. I don’t think it’s because he’s Canadian. Lots of people come from Canada and go on to lead successful, productive, non-annoying lives.
It’s not that he’s untalented - I legitimately enjoyed him in Man on the Moon and Eternal Sunshine, although there are like 5 major actors who would have done a better job in either movie — looking at you, Sam Rockwell.
I think it’s that he reminds me of those loud, self-conscious class clowns we all knew in middle school. I think the problem is that, unlike other class clowns, he never had anybody shame him about how annoying he is. Not only that, the stupid ’90s decided to give him millions of dollars reinforcing his painfully affected douchbaggery. He’s like 80% affectation, 5% stretchy face and 10% disgusting wealth.
To call him a caricature of a comic actor would be an insult to genuine caricatures like Paul Reubens.
I call your attention to the most recent trainwreck Saturday Night Live, where he managed to make every sketch uncomfortable, without even a token attempt at wit or comedy (a throwback to the dark periods of SNL in the mid ’90s). Even a fart joke would have been better than that awkward pap.
Who let this happen? Who?
What business does Jim Carrey have hosting SNL these days anyway? What was the last real movie he did? Yes Man? Don’t get me started on that pile of steaming formulaic studio vomit. HE ALWAYS SAYS YES. HOW HILARIOUS.
And he hosted SNL after Jeff Bridges. The Academy-Award-winning, once-in-a-generation talent, father-of-millions Jeff Bridges. That’s the kind of person you want hosting SNL. What’s the last award stupid Jim Carrey got? Maybe a Kids Choice nomination in ‘96? C’mon Jim, go do a balloon animal show or something.
Sometimes movie careers fizzle, man. You don’t need to take it out on people who want to watch something funny on Hulu, ok?
I’m glad we could have this talk. Sorry I called you annoying.
But it’s true.
See?
Granted, there are some serious differences. For one, Kanye is from Chicago, whereas Julian Assange is from somewhere with a pretty accent (Britain, maybe?)*
But still, tell me who the following paragraph is describing:
While this zeitgeist-changing genius is simultaneously reviled and revered the world over, his work is exceptional because of what it does with the works of others. His great talent lies in a skillful compiling, repackaging and releasing of their work, in undeniably news-worthy ways. He’s a favorite of gossip blogs, has had high-profile run-ins with the law and his worst work involves his experience with women. No matter how you feel about his work, you can acknowledge that he’s an obnoxious narcissist but that you really enjoyed it when he publicly messed with George W. Bush.
So there you have it. The same, awful, irresistable guy.
Now the real question is, which one is wearing the latex mask?
God, they both suck so much, but they’re both so good. It drives me crazy.
*So what if Assange is Australian? That just means he’s a British criminal, after all. A genius, terrible British criminal.
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