Do You Wanna Dance?

 I’m going to preface this by admitting that I do not watch, “Dancing with the Stars.” I am not a fan of reality shows in general especially those that claim to judge “talent.” I do have my guilty pleasures though, mostly due to the fact that I have been forced by roommates to engage in train wreck voyeurism. I watched most of the first season of Teen Mom because my hometown has the highest teen pregnancy rate in the state of North Carolina, and I thought I might recognize someone. My guiltiest of guilty pleasures though is “Keeping Up With the Kardashians.” I have no idea why. I’ve never liked Kim. I think I originally caught an episode at the gym while working out and found Khloe amusing and felt sorry for Bruce. Anyhow I follow Khloe on Twitter and every Monday for the past 2 months I have been bombarded with Kardashian tweets begging followers to vote for little brother Rob on DWTS. I was not aware, however, until a couple of weeks ago of another strong contestant J.R. Martinez, a disfigured Vet who suffered burns over 40% of his body after driving over a land mine in Iraq. After learning of his participation, I thought to myself, “Why did the other contestants even bother?” Upon learning that a disfigured veteran was competing against them, the rest of the “stars” should have packed up their bags, called it a day and saved themselves a colossal waste of time. You might as well have been dancing against a one-armed midget in a wheelchair.

      Now there is no doubt in my mind that Rob Kardashian danced his little heart out. I mean the poor dude grew up in a hen house, lost his father at age 16 and has been derided and ridiculed by his sisters on cable television for the past 4 years. Rob wanted to prove to the world that he wasn’t just some bum living off his famous surname. Though if he had won, he’d still be a bum with a famous surname, a bum who could dance, but a bum nonetheless. But c’mon people, let’s get real. Who is going to win the hearts of America, a 25 year old kid whose father represented OJ Simpson and grew up in the most famous zip code in the world or an Iraqi War Veteran whose service to his country resulted in him returning home looking like Seal? At least this was not lost on all in the media as this evening a CNN correspondent alluded to the fact that ABC knew what it was doing with the “star” selection. He implied that ABC executives astutely recruited a disfigured veteran on a show where the finals would air the Monday and Tuesday before Thanksgiving, a national holiday when more servicemen and women would be at home watching television with their families.

      Martinez’s dancing competition reminded me of a few years ago when an autistic kid shot lights out for 2 minutes at the end of a high school basketball game. In 2006 Jason McElwain, an autistic teenager scored 20 points in the final two minutes of the game. I’ll give the kid credit, Bravo! But let’s think about this for a moment. What basketball coach (with the obvious exception of Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski) would tell their players to go out and play tight defense on the autistic kid? It would be like challenging Tiny Tim to a foot race. I learned my lesson about playing sports against people with disabilities at an early age. In elementary school, I participated in an indoor soccer game against kids at the nearby North Carolina School for the Deaf. The up side was you could call them every name in the book with a smile on your face. The down side was those little bastards were rough and notorious for their rough play including but not limited to biting and late hits as they pretended not to see their opponents raise their hands indicating that the whistle had been blown. No more sporting events against the handicapped for this girl thank you.

      My whole point is there are just some things you don’t do in this world. You don’t sell a dead parakeet to a blind kid. You don’t trip an old lady walking across the street. You don’t tell a 4 year old that there is no Santa Claus. And you don’t vote against the burnt veteran dancing with the stars. 

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"Were You Born An Asshole"

Image via WikipediaCover of David Allan Coe

    Last night as I watched Coach Mike Krzyzewski become the all time winningest men’s college basketball coach, I started thinking about assholes. What makes one an asshole  and     why does he or she choose to  behave in such a manner? As   the I-95 song popularized by    David Allan Coe and Jimmy     Buffett goes, “Were you born   an asshole or did you work at  it your whole life?” Does one   become an asshole once he or she becomes wealthy or does  one become wealthy as a result of  being an   asshole? First off, I decided to define the      term by consulting my good friend Wikipedia  Brown and its entry for  asshole: “The          combined form arsehole is first attested    from 1500 in its literal use to refer to the  anus. The metaphorical  use of the word to refer to the  worst place in a region, e.g., “the arsehole of the world”) is  first attested in print in 1865;  the use to refer to a          contemptible person is first attested in                             1933.”                                                                                  

    So, like many other common swear or curse words, “asshole” is a relatively new addition to the English slang dictionary. Incidentally, 1933 was also the year Prohibition ended, but more on that later. Assholes are found everywhere in society. Men, women, young, old, wealthy, poor, black, white, etc; There is no escaping assholes. To be fair, assholes are not to be confused with “dumb asses” or “smart asses.” Assholes do not earn the label as a result of intelligence or lack there of but as a result of reprehensible or callous behavior. For example, comedian Jon Stewart is a smart ass. Sarah Palin is a dumbass. However, neither one is necessarily an asshole. Being an asshole is also more than just being rude, uncouth or crass. Assholes are often selfish, insecure and arrogant. They can be both physically and verbally abusive. Charles Dickens‘ famous character, “Ebenezer Scrooge” is most certainly an asshole. 

     After defining the term, I wanted to explore a question that has been puzzling me for the better part of 15 years: the origins of swear words and why they became that way. Those of you who know me well, know there are certain everyday, “acceptable” words that make me cringe. Words like “p*nties” and “yum*y”. These words make me my ears bleed, and I would prefer not to hear them uttered on television or in public. I find these words offensive not because of their connotation or meaning but rather because of the way they sound, the way they are spoken and roll off one’s tongue. Why aren’t these words on the “Don’t say that word list”? I mean if you believe that Moses etched the Ten Commandments on two, stone tablets, did he also etch a list of expletives on another “Taboolet” that when spoken warrant a bar of Lifebuoy for dessert?

     So, I started thinking and doing extensive research and analysis (aka I did a Google search) on the subject. What I discovered is many people are just as curious as I am about the origin of curse words. And as far as the world wide web goes, there is very little discourse on the subject. Upon a cursory search, I merely found many myths debunked and languages of origin. I did discover that a disproportionate number of swear words originated in Germany. Is this because Germans are inherently more vulgar and obscene? Is it because of the unique inflection and guttural nature of the language? Or did it develop out of a social stigma resulting from Germany’s role in World War I and World War II? The question brought me back to the 1930s.

     I mentioned that “asshole” first appeared in print in 1933, the final year of Prohibition. Recently, I have become a fan of the HBO series, “Boardwalk Empire”. While catching up on the first season, I noticed something interesting. The only main black character, “Chalky White” used the term “mother f*cker” (this is still a PG-13 blog) among a group of well-to-do white men. The main character, Nucky Thompson, played by Steve Buscemi, apparently hearing the term for the first time asked White to repeat himself even though he was obviously able to infer its meaning. Now you know the good people at HBO employ a top-notch research department especially in a period series such as “Empire” set in Prohibition era Atlantic City. This begs the question, did words become vulgar and taboo simply because they were used by certain classes, races and or so-called dregs of society? Did words come to be expletives the same way some drugs became illegal?

    About ten years ago the History Channel did a series called, “Illegal drugs and how they got that way” or something to that effect. Interestingly enough, marijuana did not become illegal until shortly after World War I. Marijuana became a favorite recreational drug in California and the rest of the West after the influx of Mexican immigrants introduced the substance. Immigrant workers were needed to fill the void of white men fighting overseas. When the war heroes returned home and needed their jobs back, one of the easiest ways to solve the “Mexican problem” was to make marijuana illegal and send those guilty of possession back across the border. 

       Likewise, cocaine was considered by many to be an innocuous and even beneficial drug in the early 20th Century. Sigmund Freud was one of the greatest proponents of the coca plant and cocaine in the 1880s and later on small amounts of “coca” were original ingredients in the “Coca-Cola” soft drink. So when did pure Colombian bam bam become illegal in America. Well, some historians argue that it was right around the time the drug became rampant in inner-city, African American communities. In the 1920s and 1930s blacks started to turn violent against white oppression and racism. The US Government naturally blamed cocaine. It was cocaine that heightened racial tensions and transformed the formerly docile and obsequious black population into mad as hell equal rights advocates . . .  riiiiiight.   

     So, is there a reason why the term, “mother f*cker” earns a more mature rating on a DVD than say, “asshole”? Are         words considered more vulgar because they are used by a     certain race or class? Why is “sh*t” almost always bleeped on television when it was the only curse word my parents          uttered while I was growing up? Furthermore, when “asshole” is said on television why do censors choose to bleep out        “hole” instead of “ass”? I’ll wait patiently for explanations but not excuses. Excuses are like assholes, we all got one and    they all stink. If you need me, I’ll be cutting you off on I-95.

"No Stop Signs, Speed Limit"

      Today was Easter. I recall that growing up this was one of the times when I usually got a new “Easter dress.” It will probably not surprise that I was never a fan of dresses growing up. Now they make up quite a bit of my wardrobe but before about age 25, I might as well have been allergic to them. And Panty Hose, do women still wear those? I prefer to just keep a tan. Speaking of which that was how I chose to celebrate Easter.

      It was a beautiful Easter day in Charleston, SC. Way too nice to have been cooped up in a house of worship. So, while most Americans were in some sort of building praising, singing, praying and worshiping their savior, I worshiped the sun. I had lost nearly all of my tan from Mexico and what many do not realize is that having a tan sheds at least 5 lbs instantly. So, I gathered my towel, Australian Gold, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Then I set Pandora to the Jimmy Buffett station, and I was set, content and at peace. Around 11:30am, I cracked the first of two Natty Lights. Why is it that beer is so much better in the sunshine? Aside from the refreshing taste, there’s just something about watching a can of Natural Light sweat that sets my mind at ease. That was how I spent my Easter Sunday. If this means I’m going to hell, so be it. The great Mark Twain once said, “You go to heaven for the climate but hell for the company.”

      I’ve been thinking about “hell” a lot lately. You know the concept of heaven is all well and good, streets paved with gold and what not, but of the two, the one I most want to believe in is hell. You see I’ve met a few people, not many but a few who have made me wish that there was a hell. I am going to be the first one to admit that I am far from perfect. I have made mistakes in my life. I haven’t always been as grateful and appreciative to my parents as I should have been, and there was that one little incident with a beer bottle. But believe me that bitch deserved it.  However, I have never deliberately done something to cause someone harm or pain. Most of the time I do what ironically the Bible preaches, I turn the other cheek. However, this strategy has not always served me well as I have often been reluctant to stand up for myself when others take advantage of me. This is something I am working on, I am a work in progress after all.

      But back to hell. I know I am not alone. I mean how many times do we use the expression, “Go To Hell.” I have been struggling with a certain someone who was partly responsible for something VERY unfortunate that happened to me. This person behaved  the way he did because he has insecurities that go back to childhood that have never been dealt with. (I know what a lot of my friends are thinking and no, it’s not who you think, lol, that’s a fuckin book not a blog). Anyhow, I called my mom to vent to her because it is one thing to deal with my own problems, but then when someone else’s starts affecting me, it is a bit overwhelming. At first, I tried to turn the other cheek again, he has problems/issues, traumatic childhood, etc. Then I realized this would be an excuse if he were 20 years old but he is not. My point is thinking about how his actions had affected me and the position I am currently in made me wish there was a hell, because if anyone deserves to go there, he does.

        A couple of months ago, my dad said something to me that surprised me. This is the man who once instructed me to read the Bible because he said, “It’s all true.” But he said that he thought the concept of hell originated from volcanic activity. Kinda made sense, I mean a giant mountain spitting out fire, I think that would be a pretty clear sign that god was pissed. In thousands of sermons and messages this morning, “men of God” preached that people like me were going to hell because I had not found “the path of righteousness.” I try to live by the golden rule. I try my best not to deliberately hurt anyone. I turn the other cheek. I have empathy for others. Yet I’m going to hell in a hand basket just because I haven’t knelt down with a man of god and said some prayer?

        I believe this is why Karma appeals to me. I would like to think that no good deed goes unrewarded and no bad deed unpunished. But this is not the way the world works. Instead, we have people rolling in money and other earthly possessions who stomp on people every day with no regard for their feelings or well-being. This morning hundreds of thousands of businessmen, attorneys, doctors, accountants, etc. dressed up in their “Easter Best” and made a church appearance to show the community that they were righteous, wholesome and committed to their Lord and their earthly family. Tomorrow they will meet their mistress during their lunch hour for sex, eliminate thousands of jobs and not be home for dinner with the family because their golf buddy called them up with a gram of coke and a private room at the strip club. Yes, this is cynical but also true in a great many respects. Sometimes it hurts me to live in this world we live in where common decency has been cast to the waist side. In Colleton County, SC last night, a three-year old was shot. And I guarantee before the summer is over one of more children will die after being left in a hot car in SC. It happens every year. I have thought long and hard about the moral decline of this country. And while there is no one source, all I can say is turn off the tv and pick up a book. If you need me, I’ll be on a Highway to Hell.

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Step Right Up, Come On In: "All the little birds on J-Bird St. love to hear t…

Step Right Up, Come On In: “All the little birds on J-Bird St. love to hear t…: “Image via CrunchBase I first started a Twitter account in April 2009. However, like many nascent tweeters, my account stay…”

"All the little birds on J-Bird St. love to hear the robin goin’ "

Image via CrunchBase

    I first started a Twitter account in April 2009. However, like many nascent tweeters, my account stayed idle for almost two years. I was in a similar position as now, unemployed and bored in my hometown. When I first heard of Twitter, it was in the context of Ashton Kutcher and his race to gain more followers than CNN. At the time I wanted nothing to do with anything that had to do with the trucker-hat wearing, Punk’d ass, cougar bait, That 70s Show star. Don’t get me wrong, I like T70sS, especially Danny Masterson (mmmmmm), but in my opinion Kutcher lacks talent and ain’t even all that hot.

   

    

      Anyhow, until about two months ago, my Twitter account lay dormant with the ubiquitous egg as a profile picture (the tell tale sign of all one tweet and doners). The only time I heard about Twitter on the news was when certain celebrities tweeted, and it was considered some sort of inside scoop that not even TMZ could break. I also must confess the start-up of Charlie Sheen’s much publicized Twitter account piqued my interest as I became one of the mulit-million followers. I unfollowed him about a week later, it was like being sober in a room full of drunks. It did cause me to reassess this particular form of social media, and I must say that I now spend as much or maybe more time using Twitter than Facebook. Like myself, I think many people do not understand the concept or some may just now be figuring out Facebook. Thus, I wanted to share 5 reasons why I believe Twitter is better than Facebook and why you should start tweeting today.

1. It’s a Whole Lot Cooler to Say You Tweeted.

    There are just some words in the English language that are fun to say . . . fallopian, pulchritude, skulduggery . . . and my all-time favorite Louisiana town THIBODAUX. Granted all these words were adopted from another language, but you catch my drift. Just say it a few times, “Tweet, Tweeted, Twitter.” Isn’t that fun? Even better try listening to a politician in South Louisiana (in his best crafted cajun accent) asking you to follow him on Twitter.

     When I first heard the term Facebook five years ago I had just discovered the now endangered species Myspace. Facebook to me sounded like a glorified, online yearbook which brought nothing but bad memories to my mind. I hate having my picture taken and looking at pictures of myself, so I wasn’t keen on using anything with the word “face” in the title. Social media more than anything is just one big, gossip column. Sometimes my mom will ask me how I knew about something someone had said or done, and I tell her, “I read it on Facebook.” In the future, it will be a lot cooler if I could say, “They tweeted it, then I retweeted, now you can go retweet the retweet.” That would be really tweet.

2. No Farms, No Mafia, No Problem

     I am fairly certain we all have been annoyed with some sort of Facebook app or virtual game that one of our friends has vehemently tried to lure us into. I’ll admit I did indulge in Farmville for a couple of months before I realized that it was a complete and total waste of time. To be honest, the farm got too big and it never would let me plant marijuana or raise llamas. I still indulge in Family Feud and Wheel of Fortune on Facebook, but I view these apps as brain exercises and only share results with fellow users. Twitter has no apps, so there’s nothing to allow or not allow and no viruses or phishing (I’ve always wanted to use that term, please tell me if I used it correctly). The only things that are shared are links, an occasional twitpic, and someone’s thoughts or insight in 140 characters or less.

3. 140 characters or less . . .

     Twitter keeps it short and sweet. Your tweets are confined to 140 characters or less. There is no room for long diatribes about break-ups, no chapters from Exodus, no minute details of one’s day. This is beneficial to me in particular as while I have always been sort of a quiet person, in writing I tend to use superfluous words and can be verbose. Most of the red ink that came back on my English papers were the words “run-on sentence” with unnecessary words slashed out of my paragraphs. With 140 characters, one has to communicate an idea while keeping it concise. Now granted, this also gives rise to the use of abbrevs. such as lol, omg, smh and my personal favorite idgara. Nonetheless, conveying a thought in 140 characters or less is a valuable communications lesson that sharpen one’s writing skills. Thank goodness this blog isn’t a tweet, right? Well I guess it will be . . . as a link, but I digress.

4. Less Bruised Egos   

      Pregunta Por Favor, how many of your Facebook friends are actually “friends”? If you are like me most are acquaintances with a few dear friends and family members mixed in. This has its positives. There have been people that I wished I had gotten to spend more time with and because of Facebook, we can still keep in touch. That is the point anyway, right? But the word, “friend” has such a strong connotation. There have been a couple of people from my hometown who have sent me a friend request, and I haven’t had a clue as to who they were. However, to be nice I always accepted the request. There are exceptions when I have ignored requests especially old friends whom I knew had become uber religious. If I wanted to read scripture all day, I would pick up the Bible. I’m told one is pretty easy to find. 

     Asking someone to be a friend on Facebook is almost like asking someone out on a date. There is a yes or no answer. If someone says “no” or ignores you, it is rejection. And as a wise man once told me, “I try to avoid rejection if at all possible, that’s less Scotch I have to drink.” With Twitter, you simply get a notice that someone is following you (at first it’s hard to get used to the stalking undertones, but you can block users). However, there is no quid pro quo, you can follow someone without them following you. Right now I am following 154 people with only 46 followers. This is why it is the best way to keep up with celebrities and people with whom you would never have any contact with otherwise. This brings me to the final reason I find myself more and more on twitter.com.

5. A Window Into The World of Celebrity

   I was right back in 2009 when I associated Twitter with celebrities and their fans who were obsessed with them. I have never been one who was especially star struck. I have come to loathe TomKat and Brangelina, and to this day I do not understand Americans’ obsession with the British Royal Family. However, I am enamored and completely obsessed with University of North Carolina basketball. So when I figured out I was able to follow three of the starting five players on the team, I was hooked.

   See above reason #4 for how this is possible. Celebrities or people in the public eye can choose who they follow so they are not bombarded with tweets from all their fans. Now, I am sure some crazed fans may get overzealous and message their object of affection incessantly but this is where the block option comes into play. But for those of us, like myself, who are just curious as to what our favorite athletes, actors, etc are up to, Twitter provides an opportunity to connect and observe like never before.

    Because I use Twitter, I know that UNC PG Dexter Strickland is quite religious, that the team went to Players the night of the Duke win (though this isn’t surprising) and that Michael Jordan’s daughter got into Syracuse. The latter a week or so ago took a study break from AP Psychology and opened the floor to her followers for questions. From what I can tell this girl is as normal as can be considering her world famous father.

    Also, if I made a living betting on college sports, I would follow every NCAA athlete who had a Twitter account in order to detect possible game changing behavior. The day of the ACC Championship, I could tell from UNC freshman Kendall Marshall’s tweets that there was something other than basketball weighing on his mind. Going into the game, I had a feeling that it might adversely affect his game, and it did.

   Occasionally celebrities will interact with their fans via tweets. I follow three members of Metallica and a fellow follower has conversed with James Hetfield and Kirk Hammett on a few occasions. Remember the old days when celebrities would enter chat rooms for an hour at a time to chat with fans. Well, with Twitter this is possible 24/7. However, like with any celebrity contact, hounding and/or stalking is not permitted and will result in being blocked or the suspension of your Twitter account. This keeps a check on the crazies. So if you have a favorite movie star, athlete or media mogul, following them on Twitter is the closest one can get without actually meeting them.  

Well there you go, start tweeting and follow me @ http://twitter.com/#!/monicabiddix

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• Winning an election, 140 characters at a time (ctv.ca)

Step Right Up, Come On In: "It Don’t Matter If You’re Black or White."

Step Right Up, Come On In: “It Don’t Matter If You’re Black or White.”: “Image via Wikipedia Well there is little joy in Tar Heels nation as the Blue Devils from Durham exposed and exploite…”

"It Don’t Matter If You’re Black or White."

Image via Wikipedia     Well there is little joy in Tar Heels nation as the Blue Devils from Durham exposed and exploited every weakness of my beloved basketball team this afternoon. I’m not that bummed, after making it to the Tournament finals while only having the lead about 7 out of the 80 minutes played in the tourney, luck can only get one so far. Besides the last three times that UNC has won it all, they failed to win the ACC Tournament. Better to have a winning streak broken before the Big Dance than during.

      The meetings between the teams from Durham and Chapel Hill have historically been dubbed “the Battle for Tobacco Road” referring to the state’s historic tobacco farming industry that helped to build both universities. More recently, it has been referred to as “the Battle of the Blues”. However, in the past couple of days, former Michigan player and current ESPN analyst Jalen Rose has stirred up a hornet’s nest criticizing Duke not for the color of their jerseys but the color of the players wearing them. Rose, who grew up in the inner-city, confessed that he always hated Duke because they only recruited white players and blacks who came from polished families and incurred the label, “Uncle Toms”. 

      

       First of all, Rose should never had uttered the term, “Uncle Tom”. It makes him look like someone who thinks all educated and affluent African Americans are somehow white men’s lackeys. I do not think Rose believes that Spike Lee, Colin Powell and the President of the United States are Uncle Toms. Also using a term that dates back to the institution of slavery in a college basketball context is absurd and trivializes the struggles of his ancestors. I can understand though, as a fellow Duke hater, sometimes the animosity towards and detestation of Duke basketball can become so venomous that thoughtless and fallacious statements spew forth in a heat of passion.

     

            This was why I waited a couple of days before I decided to touch on the subject. After reading others’ comments on the story, I would like to address a couple of issues. First of all, people are under the gross misconception that Duke basketball players are in the same intellectual bracket as their fellow students. This is simply not true. Just last month, I had someone say to me that he bet every one in a Duke uniform scored over 1400 on their SATs. I about fell out of my chair. I looked it up and from what I can tell the average SAT score for a Duke basketball player was around 1100. The truth is Duke athletes only have to meet the academic standards imposed by the ACC, which incidentally is slightly higher than the NCAA’s. This issue came to a head in 1989, when Coach Dean Smith noticed a sign in the Duke stands with the words, “J.R. Can’t Read”. This was one of the Cameron Crazies “clever” digs at UNC’s African American, All American J.R. Reid. Coach Smith, who integrated ACC basketball with his recruitment of Charlie Scott took offense. Smith, since he had also recruited a number of players on Duke’s team publicly announced after the incident that J.R. Reid and fellow Tar Heel Scott Williams (also African American) combined SAT scores were higher than Duke’s white stand-outs Danny Ferry and Christian Laettner. See, even Coach Smith has lost his cool in response to the arrogance of the program and its fans, but nonetheless you catch my drift.

        

         Coach Mike Krzyzewski is a lot of things, but he is not racist. Yet he does recruit a good deal of white players and black players from well-to-do families. However, this is not due to racism but perhaps to equally abhorrent character flaws, arrogance and selfishness. Pretty soon, Coach K will become the all-time winningest coach in college basketball history, and I must say it will be well-deserved because that’s what Mike does best, winning no mater what. Instead of recruiting talented black kids from the inner cities, Mike recruits black players from upper-class families whose fathers have often played professional sports. Think Grant Hill, Seth Curry, Nolan Smith and Gerald Henderson. He does this not because these players are a traitor to their race but because he has a better chance of keeping them around four years. 

      

          Lemme give you a real-life scenario 8 miles down the road. In 2005, after winning the National Championship, UNC’s center Sean May tried to convince fellow teammates Raymond Felton and Rashad McCants to stay for their senior year instead of entering the NBA draft. So the story goes, Felton, an African American who came from a rural, lower-class family in Latta, SC explained to May, also black, that he had to go pro because he was not like him. Unlike Felton, May came from a privileged household where his father had enjoyed a semi-successful NBA career. Another example is Tyler Hansborough, who has been one of the few Heels who stayed for four years despite being named the Naismith Player of the Year after his Junior season. So, how was Hansborough different from his fellow teammates, Ty Lawson, Wayne Ellington and Brandan Wright who all departed prematurely? It wasn’t the color of their skin that made them so different as the amount of money in their families’ bank accounts. Hansborough’s dad is a successful orthopedic surgeon in Poplar Bluff, MO whose financial future did not depend on his son’s NBA draft prospects.

       

           This is exactly why you will never see a Duke player, white or black, who has a father in prison or a family on welfare. Coach K wants his players to give him wins, and the best way to do so is to recruit kids who are more likely to stay all four years. I encourage one to look at the number of players UNC has lost early to the draft, and they have had to endure sub-par seasons as a result last season for example. Coach K for his own self-interests does not want to endure a sub-par season which is why he doesn’t help his players out with NBA scouting and has even been accused of underestimating players’ draft projections. If you don’t believe me, ask Chris Carrawell, William Avery or Chris Burgess.

        

          So, Jalen Rose, you were a little off the mark. Does Coach K overwhelmingly recruit white kids from elite prep schools and black players descended from NBA veterans? Absoultely. Does he do this because he is racist? Absolutely not. Coach K would recruit a black, homosexual, Romanian midget living in the middle of Harlem if his parents had money and he could play basketball. One thing you will always be able to say about Coach Dean Smith is that he always put his players first, and that is a Tar Heel tradition remains today. Coach K does win. He wins a lot. He beat my team today. Coach K is an smarmy, self-centered, hateful, foul-mouthed elitist who still dyes his hair at age 64. But, he’s not a racist.    

Related articles

• Jalen Rose On Duke Basketball: “They Only Recruited Black Players That Were Uncle Toms” (bossip.com)
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• Duke vs. UNC: 5 Keys to the Battle of the Blues, Part 2 (bleacherreport.com)

"The Kids Aren’t Alright"

    Have you ever finished watching a movie and been really really pissed off? I’m not talking about sad pissed off because someone died like in Armageddon or Titanic. And not because the boy didn’t get the girl or the killer got away (those are classic endings that leave room for a sequel anyway). I am talking about those movies where you would have rather not wasted two hours of your life watching it. I mean life is tough enough without a damn movie that is supposed to entertain you leaving you with a bulging vein in your temple and a spike in your blood pressure.
    A couple of examples immediately spring to mind. For starters, the series finale of The Sopranos. I wonder just how many death threats David Chase received after the final episode that brought the audience to the brink of orgasm only to literally pull out at the last second. Luckily I was under the influence of a mood altering narcotic when I first saw the screen turn to total darkness so I got over it as soon as someone passed the funyuns.
     Another example is the movie Seven (remember when Brad Pitt actually made good movies). The minute that bullet went through Kevin Spacey’s melon, the killer won as Pitt‘s character carries out wrath, the final deadly sin and completes the diabolical puzzle. Dunno about you, but I would have been a helluva lot happier if Pitt’s character had instead beaten the serial killer into a bloody pulp with a Louisville Slugger and castrated him with a dull knife. Also, imagine what would have happened to a man who went to prison for beheading a pretty, pregnant lady. Broomstick up the ass anyone? Anyhow, that’s my alternate ending for the flick.
    I mention this because I just finished watching, Gone Baby Gone for the second time. Seeing as how I wasn’t what one would call totally sober during the first viewing, I thought I would give it a second look and maybe this time have a different reaction. For those not familiar with the movie, the plot centers around an uncle who fears his crack head sister is going to runaway with her daughter, Amanda, and he will no longer be able to protect his niece from her mother’s negligence and deadly addiction. To prevent this from happening the uncle conspires with a dirty cop, and they stage a phony kidnapping in order to place Amanda in the loving home of the Director of Missing Children (played by Morgan Freeman) and his barren wife. First off, what child would not be absolutely delighted to be raised by Morgan Freeman. Every character he has ever played has been omniscient, wise, nurturing . . . The man even played god for chrissake.
    Insert Dudley do right aka Casey Affleck as the whistle blower. Affleck plays a young detective who eventually uncovers the charade and exposes the whole conspiracy. So little Amanda returns to her alcoholic, drug abusing mother. This ending pissed me off. Now, I am by no means advocating that we steal away every child from every unfit mother and place him or her into the care of a childless, middle-aged, well-to-do family. I mean people do have the power to overcome addiction and change for the better. What I do advocate is that we stop and take a long look at how children are being raised in this country. Children are far more rude, spoiled and disrespectful than they were twenty years ago. (If you doubt this, I encourage you to wait tables for two weeks).  More importantly children are being brought up more and more by irresponsible, immature parents who have no clue how to provide for let alone nurture a child. I’m not sure we realize just how detrimental this is to our society as a whole. Nowadays about the only way a child can be taken from its mother and/or father is if there is solid evidence of physical abuse. Jack or Jill has to have one too many broken bones or bruises from “a fall down the stairs” before a particularly astute teacher, clergyman or family member takes notice.
    Who notices the far less visible scars? The scars of a twelve year old girl who is raped by her mother’s boyfriend every time Jack Daniels comes over to visit. The nine year old boy whose parents only acknowledge or speak to him when it is to tell him how worthless and weak he is. Think Simon Birch. The only thing I believe can stop this trend is education. Yes, it is all well and good to preach abstinence, but let’s face it that ain’t working. It especially isn’t working in small, rural towns like my hometown where there is simply nothing else to do except fornicate. It is not enough to discourage teenage girls from becoming pregnant. Teenage pregnancy is inevitable and instead we should provide young mothers and fathers with the tools and knowledge of how to properly raise a child. It’s like telling people not to venture into a snake pit centered around a pot of gold, but not giving them the antidote when they inevitably do so anyway.
    Let’s face it over 70% or so of people are one day going to become a parent. And it doesn’t matter if they become one at 16 or 60 they need to have the proper knowledge to raise an emotionally healthy child. I am not just referring to the underprivileged and “at risk” students. Some of the most psychologically disturbed individuals I have ever met have came from two-parent, elite, well-to-do families.  
    In these classes or seminars the curriculum will not advocate abstinence or address religious or moral issues but simply present a Dos and Don’ts guide to parenting. Parents of all ages and classes are under the misconception that just because they do not physically or sexually abuse their child that they are happy and healthy. However, raising a well-adjusted child is much more complicated. We need to teach future parents to tell their children that they love them every day, to take an active interest in their schoolwork or social life. Also, some of the most detrimental effects on a child’s development fly under the radar. It’s amazing how many parents believe it is ok to drink in excess around their children or openly fight with their spouse or baby’s daddy within ear shot. It’s not ok to call your child a “fatty” when all you feed him or her is unhealthy food and do nothing to intervene or positively alter his or her diet.     I ask, what is more important learning algebra and pre-calculus or preparing to be a responsible and loving parent? If teenagers need a visual, take them to a penitentiary and ask inmates about their childhood memories and see how many came from happy and healthy households. I firmly believe that the majority of parents love their children unconditionally, but they are affecting their children in detrimental ways without realizing it. There has to be some sort of intervention before more children end up like the aforementioned Amanda and are . . . Gone Baby Gone.      

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It’s Raining Men

I think I finally get guys visual attraction, not totally, but a little better. See I’m a bit of an old soul. I find very few movie stars or male celebrities of the 21st century very attractive. There are exceptions, Justin Kirk from “Weeds”, Charlie Sheen (god help him), Tim Daly at one time and Craig Ferguson makes my mouth water. I’ve always had pretty bizarre taste. My crushes at one time or another have included Lars Ulrich (the drummer from Metallica) and Tommy Lee Jones. Yes, that’s right, good ole TLJ. He had his moments in The Fugitive but best seen in The Client.
Anyhow, I am more attracted to the men of the old school. My newest discovery was a young Christopher Walken featured on the right. I mean WOW! I saw Deer Hunter for the first time about a month ago and was blown away. He was actually one of those “pretty men” with perfect bone structure and just raw sex appeal. Also, recently while watching my first ever full episode of Gunsmoke, I was introduced to a young Burt Reynolds and was surprisingly smitten (never ever been a fan of the older version). So this along with the fact that I haven’t had any action in almost two months prompted me to play the role of superficial shallow male and come up with my list of “Dreamboats.” Yeah I just did that, I’m bringing 1950s slang back. All my studs have quite a bit in common including I was hooked and swooned the first time I saw the respective celebrity. They all look pretty damn good without their shirt on but none have a six-pack, per se. So here goes a woman born before her time, 29 year old woman’s list of the greatest heartthrobs in history.

1. Clark Gable (only w/mustache)
I was pretty young when I first saw GWTW. It used to come on TBS about once a month. I remember watching it with my grandmother. I was probably under the age of 12 the first time I saw it. Part of Gable’s appeal is the character. I fell in love with Rhett Butler immediately. I think it was the smile that was almost smirkish or “like he knows what I look like without my shimmy.” His voice was also piercing and I think the eyebrows put me over the edge. Captain Butler was also from Charleston, my home of seven years and one of the greatest places on earth. GWTW remains one of my favorite movies and Clark Gable has a lot to do with it. And to me he looks his best when he’s doing something like playing poker, drinking, smoking, grieving when his hair is unkept and wispy. Two years ago when I decided to get my first dog, GWTW was on AMC the night before I picked him up. I ended up naming him Captain Rhett Butler, mostly b/c I was living at home and wanting to move back to Charleston. So I guess with all that being said while Gable is Number One on this list he will always be a distant second in my heart to my furry little pal.

2. Elvis Presley
I really wonder if there is any heterosexual female who does not find “The King” attractive. The best part of Elvis is that I can think of no other person on earth who even bears a striking resemblance to him. Think about it, Cary Grant sort of has that stereotypical movie star look. Springsteen has the quintessential Rock Star look, but even with thousands of impersonators, no one has ever looked like the young man from Tupelo. At one time or another I have found both Kurt Russell (esp. in Backdraft) and Dale Midkiff (Pet Sematary) attractive and both played Presley on the small screen. However, neither one of them came even close. There’s that, his one of a kind name and the fact that he is southern is enough that maybe I should have put him at #1 (but then again Elvis never played Rhett Butler). It’s not really Elvis’ gyrating so much as the hair, the eyes and that ever so present southern drawl. Shortly after writing this I watched one of only three Elvis westerns ever made, Flaming Star. And boy was he? Not sure I had ever seen the big E without his shirt on before, but it is a sight every red-blooded female needs to see before she dies or even men. I mean really, I think secretly guys even wanna get Jailhouse Rocked.

3. Christopher Walken (30 and younger)
As mentioned before, Christopher Walken made my heart skip a beat and hate Meryl Streep all in the same moment. Before the only thing I associated Walken with was Cow Bell, his role in Joe Dirt and being the opposite of Christopher Reeve (ba bum ba). Recently I saw a photo of Walken when he was even younger around 20. Four words: sex on a stick. It is a pity he didn’t make more movies in his younger years. And at the risk of earning an MA rating, I will refrain from making any cow bell references.

4. Marlon Brando in “Streetcar Named Desire”
The first time I saw Streetcar I was in eleventh grade and was watching the movie after reading the book. It astounded me that the old, withered mumbling boss of the Corleone family was once smokin himself. In my opinion, James Dean can’t hold a candle to Brando in early Hollywood. This is also the second hunk on the list that Vivien Leigh was lucky enough to lock lips with. He probably had the hottest bod of any on the list. The fact that he wore a tight, white shirt while he drank his bourbon didn’t hurt. Take me to Elysian Fields anytime.

5. Burt Reynolds in Gunsmoke
As I said before, I’ve never been a fan of Reynolds as far as sex appeal goes. Also, unlike Gable, I only dig Reynolds w/out a mustache. However, recently I have been watching Gunsmoke reruns with my father. I don’t tell him the reason why I watch and if Quint is not the episode, then it’s Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy for me. I think part of the allure is the fact that it is the old West and not an available female for miles. But, I think it’s more those eyes, jet black hair and those muscles. Yeah, the muscles don’t hurt.

Honorable Mentions

1. Michael Jordan.
He is my hero and also one of the most underrated sex symbols of our time.

2. Matthew McConaughey
Let that boy alone, he worked hard for that hard body.

3. Brett Favre
Baby, lemme get you my number, I have unlimited texts.