Uberfluff

Yes, we're back.  And today's Daily Fluff and Fluff Five are all about Michael Jackson, who passed away yesterday.  I still feel a little surprised about his death--I suppose I felt as though he would be around, making me feel pity and frustration for many years to come.  I still remember trying to explain to my youngest sister once that there was a time (a much simpler time, I guess) when Jackson was the absolute coolest guy around.  She didn't believe me, of course.  She just couldn't reconcile that image with the more recent and familiar one of Jackson wearing sequined psuedo-military uniforms with epaulets, having questionable encounters with young boys, and dangling babies off of balconies.  You know, Thriller was a really good album, and "Billie Jean" is one of the best songs ever, but we sure cut him a lot of slack for churning out a few years worth of good pop music.

Gator remarked that fame really destroyed Jackson . . . a point that seems inarguable, since nearly every weird, inexplicable thing that he did seemed to come out of some place of isolation and insecurity.  Damn, did that man have some issues.  The only person I can think of who comes close to having the same level of public meltdown is Britney Spears. (Not coincidentally, another pop singer with ambitious parents who hit it big while still very young.)  We like to make fun of Britney and Michael.  Because, let's face it, there's so very much to make fun of.  But it can be sobering to ponder the fact they are, to some extent, our creation.  (Or maybe it's just pop music that does this to people.  Maybe rock stars are able to deal with their problems better because they don't have to sing coy, trite lyrics about being in love.  After all, you don't see this kind of thing out of Lars Ulrich.)

Rest in Peace, King of Pop.

There are a bunch of reasons why I don't use Twitter, most of which boil down to pure laziness.  But part of the issue is the fact that there's nothing like Twitter to reveal how complete banal the majority of one's thoughts can be.  And so I present Exhibit A:

So, er, has anyone out there seen Australia already?  Because I got it from Netflix about a week ago and still haven't managed to watch it.  Mostly because the damned thing is 3 hours long.  That's a huge commitment to make with my evening.  If it's awful, I've more or less blown an entire night for one movie.  I'm not sure why I requested it in the first place--Netflix greed, I think.  I was just drunk with the power and rush that comes from adding things to your queue, and it somehow snuck into a high position, vaulting over things like Volver, which has sat forlornly at number 8 for months while other things get moved around it.  (I want to have seen Volver, but I'm never actually in the mood to watch it.)

The reason I can't seem to pull the trigger on Australia is largely Nicole Kidman-related.  Though Hugh Jackman isn't helping things either.  I know he's supposed to be a nice guy and a good actor, etc., etc.  But he seems a little smirky to me.  Plus there's that Wolverine hair.  And it really, really bugs me that his name sounds like Huge Ackman.  As for Nicole Kidman, well, I respect her for the Tom Cruise divorce, but she just keeps getting skinnier and skinnier.  Watching her now is like watching a skeleton in a wig.

I know I could just return it without watching it, but that seems like admitting defeat.  Plus, then I'll probably find out that it's great or something and have to put it back on my queue.

So today's Daily Fluff explores Eddie Murphy's obvious deal with Satan.  (How else can one explain going from Beverly Hills Cop to Daddy Daycare?)  Which makes one ponder the other celebrities whose careers definitely raise thoughts of supernatural intervention.  Of course, there's the obvious ones like Paris Hilton or Carrot Top or Creed.  But the ones that really fascinate me are those (like Murphy) where something has gone very wrong on the road to fame and fortune.  Like Tom Cruise and his Scientology obssession.  Or Dane Cook and the fact that his success has been marred by allegations of stealing material.  Or Britney Spears.  Boy, did she neglect to read the fine print on her personal deal with the Devil.

Alright, I am far from the biggest Alec Baldwin fan.  Though I  have always liked Charles Barkley.  But regardless of my feelings, this whole celebrity gaffe/offense thing has gone way too far.  I understand that we (the public) really look forward to our opportunities to criticize and look down on public figures.  And I don't really want to ruin anyone's fun here.  After all, there's so much to look down on them for.  They're generally richer, more successful, and (often) better looking than us.  If that doesn't earn you the privilege of being overanalyzed and cut-down while having to take it all with a smile and an apology, I don't know what does.  But still, there's a difference between indulging in a little celebrity-focused malice and reacting to everything like one of those grouchy, self-righteous women who takes offense at everything.  You know, like the head of NOW or something.

So Alec Baldwin made a joke about getting a Filipino mail-order bride.  So Barkley said that some women "milk" the pain of labor and delivery and that it's harder to play on a sprained ankle than have a baby.  So the hell what?  Frankly, I'm not even sure what's offensive about Baldwin's comment, and I'm Filipina.  It's a joke, people.  Sure, it implies that a country isn't doing all that well economically, but that's hardly news when it comes to the Philippines, is it?  And on the bright side, it does suggest that the women are attractive enough to be viable mail-order brides.  I can think of a few countries that are lucky that they never had to resort to mail-order brides.  For several reasons.

The Barkley thing is even more puzzling to me, since Barkley has made something of a career out of making startling or outrageous comments.  Well, that and basketball anyway.  And we all know that some women really do "milk" the whole pregnancy and delivery thing.  Sheesh, some women will "milk" the "excruciating" pain of a hangnail.  Having neither played professional basketball on a sprained ankle nor had a 36-hour labor and delivery, I can't really speak to relative pain, but I have it on good authority that both are dwarfed by the pain of a tooth in need of a root canal.  So if you're in that situation, feel free to tell both pregnant women and pro basketball players that they're total wusses.  Though, considering the uncertain tempers of both these groups, I suggest you do it quietly and from a distance of 15-20 feet.

So the big tabloid news at the moment seems to revolve entirely around whether or not Jon Gosselin (of Jon and Kate Plus Eight) cheated on his wife and whether the reality "stars" are getting a divorce.  And all of this conveniently right before their show's new season starts.  What a coincidence!

I confess that I haven't seen much of the show.  I've watched one or two episodes, but I fail to see the long-term entertainment value of watching a passive-agressive schlub and his nagging, OCD wife do cutesy set-up events with their children and then snipe at each other in private interviews.  (This week! The family goes to a petting zoo and then Kate emasculates Jon for forgetting the juice packs.  And don't forget to tune in next week, when they all make s'mores and Kate emasculates Jon for buying the wrong marshmallows!)

So I'm not saying that it's ok to cheat on your wife, regardless of whether or not the publicity is worth thousands of dollars.  (For the record--cheating is not ok unless it's worth millions.)  But I am saying that I understand.  That poor bastard.  He has eight kids and is married to a psycho control freak.  And his life is a TV show.  Who can walk out on eight kids?  You're stuck.  I suppose my feelings on the whole thing are best summed up through the medium of interpretive dance.  Or by this clip from The Soup:

Ok, it's not exactly Tupac vs. Biggie.  Or even Paris vs. Nicole.  But it seems that Nick Cannon has decided to take on Eminem.  Cannon, who is known primarily for a lame "Who's Line" rip-off for MTV and for being the only man on earth able to withstand the essay in high-maintenance that is Mariah Carey, attempted to rip on Eminem in his blog--evidently for mentioning Nick and Mariah in his latest song.  Anyway, Mr. Carey was piiissssed.  Though, unfortunately, he doesn't seem to get any funnier when he's angry.  Some highlights:

"Not only has his music not evolved, but also homeboy is still obsessed with my wife, the same female that wouldn’t let him get to second base from 8 years ago! He even describes his desperate lameness in this bad excuse for storytelling track. That’s some real middle school shit right there! (What type of grown ass man lies about getting with a chick) Only Slim Lamey! LOL!"

*Prue's note: Yes, I am sorry to report that Nick Cannon actually LOL'd.  We are not yet certain whether he ROFLMAO'd, but are concerned that it is indeed possible.  I don't even want to talk about the "Slim Lamey" crack.  I seriously cannot believe that this guy is paid actual money for being "funny."  Anyway, back to the quotes . . .

"Then I asked myself should I go find this Bitch and just whoop his little ass? But that might have just been the Creatine and protein shakes talking! LOL. Even though most people don’t know that I’m nice in the ring and have been training in boxing and Martial Arts for years that would just be childish and silly of me to bully this dude. He clearly has been picked on all his life and I would hate to add to his deep-rooted pain"

*Prue again: I'm not sure what to say about the need to point out what a great boxer, kung fu master, and all around badass you are in your blog.  I would expand, but I'm late for my ninja classes.  Have I mentioned that I know 100 ways to kill a man using only a paper clip?

"You sold your little records and made a little bit of change but now you are stepping in the wrong territory. You may have been able to rape and pillage our artform like an old school Caucasian con man and nobody said anything because we respected your talent, but now you’ve made the ultimate mistake. Don’t you know that the black woman is the foundation and the strongest force in our culture? Take notes homey, Elvis would have never disrespected Aretha Franklin or Diana Ross. You were supposed to just do your little song and dance, make your little racist money and call it a day. But no, you had to dishonor the black man’s most precious counterpart."

*Another note from Prue: This is the end of a long rant about how racist Eminem is in general, and more specifically because he attacked Mariah.  Frankly, I'm a little surprised that someone as racist as Eminem allegedly is (according to Cannon) gets along so well with people like 50 Cent and Dr. Dre.  Eminem . . . the most incompetent racist ever.  (Interestingly, most of the racism I see here seems to be aimed at Eminem here rather than coming from him.  Methinks Mr. Cannon might be projecting a bit.)

"I’m taking full action on you Eminem. I don’t know why no one has stood up to your bitch ass yet. But I guess it’s going to take a corny, wack rapping, boy toy from Nickelodeon to set you straight. And trust, I am going to be relentless. Even though I got a lot of other obligations and occupations, you are my new full time job “homey”! As a matter of fact I think you going to bring my wack rhymes out of retirement! That’s right haters; you can thank Eminem because I’m going to start rapping again! LOL Just for him! And don’t forget about the jokes! We coming at you hard body!! Non-stop on your Manic-depressive-Insecure-Maclovin-Nazi- Liza Minelli haircut havin-lookin ass!! [Pause] That’s what I do all day Bitch!"

*Last comment from Prue: I confess to being a little confused here.  For awhile it seemed like Cannon was threatening to beat Eminem up, which seemed a bit unwise to me.  (See earlier comment about Dre and 50 Cent.)  But now it seems like he's threatening him with rap.  Ooooooo-kay then.  So now, all I can figure is that Cannon was planning to do a rap album all along (only one guess on who is going to sing on it) and decided that the only way to get people to buy it--or even care--was some dumb trumped-up feud with Eminem.  God, that's so lame it makes me want to LOL and LMAO.  Though if it works, I'll be starting my own feud with Eminem shortly.  Look for my new album in stores next month.

**Note: I've been told that Mr. Cannon has since apologized and claimed that his blog was hacked--evidently by the much-feared Rambling, Long-winded, and Incoherent Hacker of Doom.  Right.  Were he to say that he accidentally drunk-posted, I would find the whole thing a bit more credible.  Anyway, whatever the excuse, it's still all very funny to me, so I'm not changing anything.

Generally, I'm not one to make light of celebrity fights.  Ok, that's not particularly true.  I would definitely make light of them.  But I'm not one to defend the apparent aggressor.  Still, with almost no information available and everything coming down to pure speculation, I'm going to take Kiefer Sutherland's side on the little scuffle between him and Proenza Schouler designer Jack McCollough at and afterparty for the Costume Institute Gala.  The gossip says that Kiefer was somehow defending Brooke Shields--though her representatives say that McCollough didn't do anything inappropriate and they don't know why Sutherlands headbutted the designer.  But based on my scientific parsing of that teeny bit of information, I say that the headbutting was justified because:

1.) Look at McCollough.  I want to headbut him right now just looking at his picture.  I bet he's the kind of guy who sits there and makes bitchy little comments while everyone laughs, safe in the knowledge that no one will do anything about it; and

2.) I just like a good headbutting.  People don't often take advantage of the tactical advantages of the headbutt, and it looks cool as hell if pulled off correctly.

Of course, given that I just wrote that, it will probably come out that McCollough spends his spare time bottle-feeding homeless puppies and Sutherland attacked him for getting to the valet first.  But I say, why let total ignorance keep you from opining on something?  It certainly doesn't stop celebrities from telling us how we should vote or what we should drive.

If there are still women out there who like to compare their circle of friends to various characters from Sex and the City, I don't want to know about it.  (Though it is interesting that the Samantha girl never minds being the group slut, while no one wants to be Miranda.)  Personally, I'm shocked that they're actually going to wring a movie sequel out of the show.  It almost feels like a time warp to watch the early episodes now--a sort of, "gee, I remember back a few years ago when women were pinning giant cloth flowers to all of their clothes."

What I find curious is the continued popularity of Sarah Jessica Parker--mostly because I have never heard a (straight) man say anything complimentary about her looks.  Personally, while I don't find her drop-dead gorgeous, she's still reasonably attractive in my view.  (My main gripe with Carrie Bradshaw is the continued insistence that she's some kind of great writer when she uses such trite and horrific puns all the time.)  But the way I hear guys talk about her, she may as well have a hump and a hairy wart on the tip of her nose.  Sometimes, I wonder if this is actually part of her appeal to women.  She is that enviably stylish friend that you can still feel confident won't outshine you, looks-wise.  Which makes it easy to like and admire her.  Or maybe she just gets to be an easily accesible fantasy--here she manages to be professionally successful and date millionaires as Carrie Bradshaw, and without ever being very talented or extraordinarily beautiful.  It's a lot easier to imagine oneself in Carrie Bradshaw's place when you don't have to account for supermodel looks.

But I do wish they would just stop with the puns.  Dear God, the puns.