It's My Sanity and I Want It Now!

Are you or a loved one suffering from mesothelioma? What about complications from your vaginal mesh? Well, you could either see a medically trained professional for treatment, or you could call some nosy dude shouting on your television. I mean, he’s asking you personal questions about your health and more importantly, your vagina. Surely he’s on the up and up.

Trust me, take a day off of work, grab a glass of your favorite red wine, turn on your TV, and you’ll be transported to a whole new world. A world where your grandmother frequently falls down stairs, where people stick their heads out of windows demanding their money now, and where townies inquire about the location of their friendly, neighborhood bedbug-sniffing dog. I mean, dónde está Roscoe anyway, am I right!?

Not to mention the music. Why listen to Hip-hop, R&B, or Rock when every 5 minutes there’s a catchy phone number being sung. I think 1-877 Cars for Kids is at the top of the charts. That’s not blood flowing from my ears; it’s liquid enjoyment!

And while we’re on that topic, what exactly is 1-877 Cars for Kids? Is it like a Guns For Cash program? Do I give away my children and get a new car in return? I think many people would take them up on that offer. Hell, I’d knock up a few women if it means a brand new Benzo in my garage.

Get fast cash with Montel Williams! Or car insurance with a Shaquelle O’Neil and a cartoon! Or a degree in Paper Mache Making with Education Connection. It’s 8 hours of terrible offerings and I want nothing to do with it. And you know what, if you think that makes me a monster, then I have one question for you.

What Are You? Mashugana!?

Do you have a moment to discuss your mashugana levels?

If you’re wondering what the hell's a mashugana, then you probably need more Jewish friends. Expand your social circle, you racists. And speaking of racist, am I the only one confused by the three black people loudly questioning the mashugana status of Uber passengers in the streets of New York City?

For those not in the know, there’s a car service called Carmel that features New Yorkers calling each other mashugana, a pejorative term that Webster’s Dictionary defines as “comically Yiddish” and “not a word".

But in their ads, there are three separate African Americans who shout the word, mispronouncing it every time, making it wholly unrealistic. Now, I may call it silly but is it inconceivable that black people might shatter racial expectations? Is it “reverse cultural appropriation”? No, no it’s not. Because there’s no such thing.

But then Doug E. Fresh goes from Hip Hop to Scientology music. And Kanye West goes on television and says slavery was a choice. And Raven-Symone simply opens her mouth, and we all sit perplexed wondering if we’re intolerant or if she’s just an idiot. To which I posit, por que no los dos?

“Acting black” is definitely a counter-productive concept that exists to trap people in a box of stereotypes and prejudice. But is there a point where you’re not just “acting white”, you’re actively harming your own race and culture?

Ja Rule, like many rappers, lives in a gated community and is criticized for forgetting his roots. And Morgan Freeman says racism doesn’t exist anymore because he won a movie award. I argue that one is a sign of success while the other is self-absorbingly ignorant.

Look, black people can live in upscale neighborhoods, Asians can be driving instructors, and Rosie Perez can be a professional linguists. Doing so doesn’t make them any less themselves simply because you have a narrow-minded concept of what it means to be ethnic. But that doesn’t mean that obstacles, push-back and hatred no longer exists.

Check your privilege, Morgan Freeman. Or risk being mashugana. You’re a powerful celebrity, use your powers to fight the good fight, dammit. Speaking of celebrities fighting the good fight, am I the only one waiting for the War of 2020… also known as…

…Oprah Vs. Trump: Battle Of The Bastards

Burn your pay-per-view immediately

Despite the likes of Elizabeth Warren, Beto O’Rourke, and Kamala Harris, many people still seem to be holding out for Oprah Winfrey to join the fray of democratic nominees for the 2020 Presidential Election. While a few seem to believe she’ll actually run, many democrats argue that the only way to beat a celebrity like Trump is to drag out another celebrity. Those people are categorically wrong.

Winning for the sake of winning seems like a loss. People can argue as to whether or not Donald Trump is the greatest president in history or just a tanned Lex Luthor with a comb-over. Either way, why would anyone think Oprah is our best superman?

First off, maybe the Harlem Globetrotters can beat the Lakers, but is it really worth destroying the rules and foundation of the NBA just to win? Secondly, I just made a sports reference; accurate comparison or not, be proud of me. And thirdly, the overall point is simple: fighting fire with fire is called arson.

I won’t pretend that fame hadn’t helped the likes of Donald Trump, Ronald Reagan, Jesse Ventura, or Arnold Schwarzenegger. But what about the failures? Cynthia Nixon, Stacey Dash, WWE’s Linda McMahon, and Shirley Temple, to name a few.

I’m not saying that celebrity-status in politics only works for white men, I’m just saying that it hasn’t worked so much for women and minorities.

Also, can you imagine watching the State of the Union with President Stacey Dash? Clueless isn’t just a movie, it’s an apt description of the washed up movie star turned… well… I don’t know what the hell she turned into but whatever it is, it looks like plastic and I don’t want it.

Other things I don’t want: bacon in my pastries, matching with an 80-year old on Tinder, and…

…Pop Stars Creeping Into My Superhero Shows!

What's the 411, hun?

I’m talking to you, Mary J. Blige. Get the fuck off of my TV.

I was flipping through Netflix the other day and came across a fun superhero show called The Umbrella Academy, about powered “siblings” attempting to fight the future and save the world. It’s not exactly a nerd’s wet dream, but it’s probably great for edging. [Note: Do not Google the word edging]

Anyway, imagine my surprise when Mary J. Blige popped up wielding dual guns, future technology, and a bob so precise you’d risk being shot just to ask her the name of her Dominican salon. (I assume it’s called Mari’s. It’s always called Mari’s.)

In this show, Mary J. Blige plays an angry assassin with Real Love for her partner. The two of them insert themselves into the heroes’ Family Affair and before they know it, the two are chasing the family of heroes All Night Long. Secretly, the two assassins are hoping for a quiet life with No More Drama. And although it seems an unattainable dream, she’s tough and she’s Not Gonna Cry about it. Also… Hateration.

Enjoying these Mary J song references? No? Okay, let’s move on.

Now I’m not saying that pop stars can’t appear in science fiction, but it’s usually a jarring experience. Sometimes it’s a perfect casting and a pleasant experience, like Childish Gambino in Solo. But most of the time, it’s Rihanna in Valerian, or Will.i.am in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, or Justin Beiber in Men In Black 3. Three of the worst movies since LL Cool J in Deep Blue Sea.

Apparently his hat was like a shark’s fin because rap music was ripe with lazy similes in the late 90’s.

In short, Mary J. Blige was a delight to see as an action villainess but stunt casting didn’t disguise her inability to act and we as an audience deserve better. We deserve… Nic Cage in Ghost Rider? No. Maybe Halle Berry in Catwoman? Ugh, forget it. You’re good, Mary J. You’re good.

BUT IT’S OKAY BECAUSE IN THE END…

…it’s another example of people stepping outside of their predetermined roles. Why can’t an R&B singer kick ass as a TV action star? Why should we be constrained by the restrictions that traditionalism brings us? Why can’t a black man be mashugana if he wants?

The answer is, he can. People want to be what they want to be, even if that means bucking expectations or the presumptions of others. And theoretically, we should be able to respect that.

But we don’t. We are a very opinionated species and whatever we think is good for us, we force unto others. Much like a random voice on daytime television demanding to know the quality of your vajayjay: Hey girl, what dat mesh be like?

In short, if you’re owed money, shout out of a window if you want. If you want to hock your children to fill your garage, do it. And if your accident-prone Grandmother would rather fall down stairs than live in a nursing home, then just neglect the bitch, dammit!

Actually, nix that last part. I’ve been informed that we do not condone elderly abuse or neglecting nana. Because if we do, there won't be anyone left to watch daytime ads. Now if you'll excuse me, tengo que encontrar Roscoe.