Joaquin Phoenix: Voluptuous Beard, Hoax of the Century

Joaquin Phoenix:
Voluptuous Beard, Hoax of the Century

When I heard Joaquin Phoenix publicly declare that he was through with acting, my heart groaned within, and I shed a tear. I felt we had lost one of our finest performers, and so soon after one of the greatest performances of all time as Johnny Cash in Walk the Line. What a shame! For a time, I sulked, and even went days without food, my appetite having disappeared as quickly as this great actor disappeared from the artistic community.

But then I caught him at a Vegas nightclub on YouTube, donning a stocking cap like T.I. and a beard that put Kris Kringle’s to shame, both in length and tonality (although Mr. Kringle may yet have Joaquin beat in fullness). Enveloped in this strange, new image, Joaquin began to rap, the words flowing from his mouth with such ease and fluidity, “spitting rhymes” (as Puffy Combs might put it) as well as any of our modern rap artists, and even throwing in the hand gestures and limping swagger to boot. As I watched, mesmerized, it slowly occurred to me that if this fine performer ever did leave the artistic community, then not only is he back, but he is back and better than ever!

The Academy and the general public recognized and praised Joaquin for his portrayal of the late Johnny Cash, and rightfully so. But let’s face it; he simply didn’t have the build or physical prowess to accurately portray the real Johnny (unlike Will Smith, for example, who actually put on 50 pounds of muscle to play Mohammed Ali). So let’s hope that the Academy and the people at large will come out in droves to give this performance – far greater, in my opinion, than any of his previous performances – the acclaim that it deserves. For not only does he get into the psyche of the character, but he also fits the physicality to a tee.

So convincing is his performance this go around, that he has succeeded in making nearly everyone believe that this is indeed him. Whereas, no matter how hard he worked at becoming Johnny Cash, he couldn’t actually convince a reasonable human being that he was in fact Johnny Cash. And for this, he deserves our praise. Who, other than Andy Kaufman and 2-Pac, has ever been able to pull a hoax off like this??

And as if the performance in the underground club in Vegas wasn’t enough, he goes on live national television for an interview with David Letterman! If you haven’t seen the interview, then do it now:

http://www.cbs.com/late_show/video/video.php?cid=446418043&pid=TOnYWLFIAq4k8vA0Me2lpEWu5ovWrJzB&play=true&cc=1

Needless to say, this performance catapults this hoax to a whole new level, rivaling that whole Y2K thing, and perhaps even Al Gore’s reception of the Nobel Peace Prize.

So let’s all give a round of applause to Mr. Phoenix for his incredible accomplishment; nay, a standing ovation. Bravo! Bravo! Or perhaps in honor of his new persona, we ought to raise the roof. Either way, let’s all show our appreciation.

If you’re wondering how you might show that appreciation, consider going to a theatre near you when Casey Affleck’s new documentary is released, which just so happens to be about his brother-in-law’s hip-hop dream (Casey was reportedly at CBS studios, filming the landmark interview with Letterman).


Douglas W. Bailey
dwadebailey@gmail.com

Obama Hates White People

Obama Hates White People

As we all know, FEMA has been under the microscope ever since the Bush administration's “botched” response to Hurricane Katrina in 2005, which Barack Obama and other Democrats made a favorite topic on the presidential campaign trail (because, of course, the devastation that swept across New Orleans had very little to do with a hurricane, the residents were not sufficiently warned beforehand to get the heck out of there, and the rescue efforts were not at all impeded by those same residents now armed with Uzis aimed and firing at the helicopters sent in to rescue them). One of the first items on President Obama’s agenda has been to reorganize and strengthen FEMA, in order to avoid another catastrophe like Katrina.

Well just as soon as the organization was reorganized and strengthened, as only federal organizations can be, it got the chance to show off its new muscle in Kentucky, where the recent winter storm (which happened to be the worst natural disaster in the state’s history) killed 24 people and left another 300,000 residents without power.

A week after the storm hit, Christy Horne, a resident of Kentucky and personal friend of mine, changed her Facebook status to “Finally! We have power!!!” Her sentiment was echoed by hundreds of thousands of fellow Kentuckians, now basking in the warmth of fluorescent lights and the flames of gas stoves.

But now that the power is back on and the good citizens of Kentucky no longer have to worry about how to cook their food or not freeze to death, many of them are wondering why it took FEMA so long to act. Indeed, four days after the storm hit, FEMA had yet to send any aid workers to the areas most devastated, which coincidentally (or maybe not so coincidentally) are populated predominately by Caucasians.

I just hope that at this year’s Grammy Awards ceremony, one of our artists has the strength and courage to follow in Kanye West’s footsteps and proclaim to the world what we all now know to be true about our once beloved president:

Obama hates white people.


Douglas W. Bailey
dwadebailey@gmail.com

The Real Curious Case of Benjamin Button: 13 Oscar Nominations

THE REAL CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON: 13 Oscar Nominations

Sure, it was well-crafted, the performances great, the cinematography gorgeous, and the special effects out-of-this-world, but what does it matter if the characters are no deeper than a kiddie pool, and the story is a poorly recycled version of the classic, Forrest Gump?

I’ll spare you the specific Gump parallels (the bloggers have jumped on that dilemma with reckless abandon), but let me mention briefly the thought that popped into my head when Benjamin decided to join the drunken fish boat captain on his exploits in Russia: “This captain guy is a lot like Lieutenant Dan...Benjamin’s a lot like Forrest…his love interest sure reminds me of Jenny…Wait a minute!” I felt like I’d been tricked. “I’m watching Forrest Gump all over again, except this version lacks the charm!”

The best example I can give of lacking charm lies in the theme of the film itself, which is repeated by nearly every character at the end of some life-changing scene: “Nothing lasts,” they say with a heavy heart. As inherently false as that statement should be, it rings true within this narrative, because every character lives their life in a way that ensures no lasting impact on anyone or anything. The line they ought to be repeating throughout the movie is:

“Nothing lasts, that is if you live your life like Benjamin Button. But if you live a life even remotely comparable to someone like Forrest Gump, the friendships you develop, the service you render, the lives you improve, and the memories you instill in everyone around you, adding up to an inspiring legacy, will actually last quite a long time, probably even forever.”

Instead, the depressing refrain of “nothing lasts!” gets repeated over and over, not only in action, but also in deed.

Consider the fact that Benjamin, at the ripe old age of 11, begins frequenting a brothel, where finding an enduring relationship isn’t exactly the goal for a good majority of the patrons and/or suppliers.

I’m sure it was the life-lessons he learned at this reputable place of business that inspired him to have a recurring affair with an unhappy woman while they lived an old Russian hotel together (why either of them were there in the first place remains a mystery). While the affair was inevitably cut off when the woman and her oblivious husband moved back to the States, at least it lasted a little while, which was longer than his previous relationships…

Maybe what he learned from that somewhat longer lasting experience is what prompted him to start a family with Daisy (played by Cate Blanchett), the love of his life, which lifelong love was based on sleeping under a make-shift tent in early childhood, followed by a 20-year separation, followed by sleeping in, under, with, and around various other locations upon being reunited.

This was actually the longest lasting of Benjamin’s relationships, which could have lasted even longer, had Benjamin listened to the pleadings of his fair Daisy. But alas, with a man like Benjamin, NOTHING LASTS. And so, soon after the birth of their beautiful baby girl, and out of the sense of “duty” and “honor” unique to Mr. Button and his code of ethics (perhaps acquired in a brothel somewhere or maybe a dark hotel in Russia), he decides to high-tail it outa there, leaving his wife and child to fend for themselves in the world while he roams the streets of Calcutta and other third-world cities in search of more fleeting experiences.

Indeed, nothing lasts, including the impression this film leaves on its viewers. It will be forgotten as quickly as ‘ol Benjamin can pack a knapsack in the middle of the night. And the awards it inexplicably garners at this year’s Academy Awards ceremony will soon be erased from our collective memory along with other ridiculous winners of the past: Crash? Chicago???

If anything remains from this movie, it is the memory of Benjamin’s poor life-choices, which may be even more curious than the fact that he ages backwards!



Douglas W. Bailey
dwadebailey@gmail.com

Ending the Racial Injustice in College Football

Now that the College Football season is finally over, it’s time to stop simply talking about the egregious racial disparity in head coaching jobs and actually do something about it. Out of the 119 schools that have Division IA football programs, only seven have coaches that are African American (an abysmal 6%). One coach is Latino and one is of Polynesian decent. In a country as diverse as ours, where racial boundaries have been pushed back on so many fronts (including, most recently, the office of President of the United States), these statistics are appalling. It begs the question: why can’t we get a fair representation of our national racial profile in the sport of college football?

The answer is, we can! And here’s how:

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the estimated population of black residents in the United States is 36 million, or 12% of the total population, which is double the percentage of black men currently coaching. In order to raise the percentage of black coaches in college football to 12%, 7 of the current positions need to be vacated and filled by African Americans.

Navy’s football program is run by, Ken Niumatalolo, the only Pacific Islander in the entire FBS. But considering Pacific Islanders only make up .14% of the general population, it would seem reasonable to relegate Ken Numa…Whatever-his-name-is to some sort of Assistant Special Teams Coordinator or something like that, and place the recently fired Ty Willingham (African American) in his stead (Willingham went 0-12 last year, making his record at Washington a respectable 11-37).

That leaves six more spots that need to be vacated. But rather than go through each spot one-by-one, it will suffice to say that each of the major conferences could use one more black coach in order to ensure that no one geographical area maintains a white monopoly.

We’ve now solved the black coaching problem in college football! But wait…Have we, in our fervor to rectify this horrid situation, overlooked someone?

Hispanics are now the largest minority group in the United States at 37 million, or 13% of the population. The fact that only 1 of the 119 head coaching positions is filled by a Latino is downright inexcusable, and ought to be unspeakable in this day and age. How could we have forgotten the nation’s largest (and hardest-working) minority during this debate?! Well consider them forgotten no more. 16 white coaches must be canned immediately to free up some space for the Latinos.

Also, Asians make up 4.4% of the U.S. population; so perhaps 5 more white coaches could step down right away to make room for these perfectly qualified Asian coaches.

And what about Multi-racial Americans, who make up 2% of the population? I’m sure we can create one more job for them somewhere.

( Since Native Americans make up only .8% of the population, we don’t have to worry about them at all. Besides, they have their casinos. )

Now that we have a perfectly diverse field of head coaches – one that accurately reflects the beautiful rainbow that is America – we must move on to the players themselves and their positions on the field, in which exists an even greater racial chasm than in the job of head coach!

In 2008, only 9 of the 119 FBS schools had a white starting tailback. That equals 7%, and in a country where whites make up 68% of the population, the statistic is staggering! Surely, in a country with over 200 million white men, there are more than 9 who are athletic enough to take a handoff, hit the hole, and turn up the field. Surely! The fact that there aren’t more white tailbacks in college football can only point to one thing, and it begins with a capital R.

And don’t look now, but the numbers are even worse for the cornerback position!!

So, in the name of racial equality, 71% of currently starting black tailbacks must now ride the pine to make room for 80 white boys, 15 Hispanics, 5 Asians, and 3 Multi-racial Americans (and maybe 1 Native American too, to assuage the guilt we all still feel for the way they had it handed to them). And 86% of currently starting black cornerbacks must relinquish their positions to equally qualified Whites, Hispanics, Asians, and all the rest. And so on and so forth down the line, each position governed by the same standard (except for kickers – everyone knows only white boys can kick), until the FBS is thoroughly cleansed of its racial inequities, and all people, regardless of race, ethnicity, or gender are welcomed under the beautiful umbrella of tolerance and love.

Speaking of gender, how is it that there is not one female head coach in all of college football??? I am appalled and flabbergasted.