One Dangerous Negro

So I've been making bad life choices instead of working on my thesis (little does Johnny Mac know).

Saturday I went to see Match Point with Beulah and Baby Huey. We all liked it. I've gotta say. I've been a huge Scarlett Johansson fan since, oh, let's say Ghost World, and this really clinched it. I'm not saying she's a great actress. A lot of times she can be a little flat, but that's part of her charm. I think she's probably the only person of my generation with star power. That flat monotone voice vaguely reminiscent of Lauren Bacall, the buxom body of a 1950s pinup. In the words of Elaine Benes, she's a woman--babababoomchickaboomchickaboomboomboom.

The other big star I think is Shakira. To me she's the biggest pop thing since Madonna. As I've read over and over again in raves of her new album, the girl is just plain weird. Her take on the English language is just plain peculiar. Take for example this oft-quoted spoken interlude:
"For you, I'd give up all I own
And move to a communist country
If you came with me, of course
And I'd file my nails so they don't hurt you
And lose those pounds, and learn about football
If it made you stay, but you won't, but you won't"

She's also compared herself to a horse before castration, just full of energy and creativity, whatever that means. Plus, she can't stop referencing her small and humble breasts. What a strangeo. But a brilliant strangeo. I couldn't find smarter pop music in the last ten years if I had a week to think about it.

And last night, finally the Golden Globes. I've stated many times in the last few days that they're the deep-fried oreos of awards shows. Nobody there really gives a shit if they win (oh wait, they're egomaniacs, of course they do). Plus, there are drinks involved so you get to watch drunken celebrities make the most incoherent of all acceptance speeches. Could you imagine if Shakira won a Globe. Jeez, I think she'd thank the all-powerful mother chicken, as well as her unconceived children that she stores in her right foot so that they cannot escape.

Yesterday was MLK day, and I have to say I really made the most of it. What did you do? I celebrated in typical liberal fashion by throwing money at problems and attending a feel-good service at Memorial Church where we all patted ourselves on the back for coming, but then were exhorted to become dangerous Negroes. Count me in! First on my list--calling for the filibuster of Sam Alito. Sure it would be disastrous, and Democrats would hold no power after the nuclear option inevitably went into affect. But fuck it, we're dangerous Negroes, and we don't give a shit. If you don't show a little spine and initiative, how will you ever convince America to give you b[l]ack power.

Is there any doubt about this guy's motives? I mean a lot of hay has been made of Kennedy's membership in the Owl Club, a disgusting, elitist, date-raping organization in its current manifestation, but the Owl Club has nothing on Concerned Alumni for Princeton. Maybe that's just because Harvard misogynists are smarter than Princeton misogynists. Harvard misogynists realize that if you keep women out of the university you can't really date-rape them, can you? And how can you exclude minorities and the poor from your secret organization if they aren't even allowed in your school? You can't have a plantation-style social system if you don't even let blacks into the social strata. I mean come on. Use your heads. In Kennedy's defense, when he went here, the Owl Club, although no doubt disgusting, probably wasn't as bad as it is now.