MINIPISTOLA
"WILD SOUND!"
Chardonnay “Cecil B. Demented”
Benetton Heart: REPOST
A repost of a piece I was very happy to share with Auto-Reverse Psychology in 2010. Benetton Heart: The Hate Vernacular
The funny thing about racism is that it isn’t funny at all. It’s taken me years to finally admit to this but even when bookended by the assurance of “you know I don’t truly feel this way” a broad comment about a particular group is about as harmless as a loaded gun. Even with the insistence that said “gun” has a safety lock or is in the hands of the most code following NRA member the threat of danger still remains. Sometimes the danger isn’t even the fault of the person making the racist comment but rather of the person unfortunate enough to hear said comment. All it takes is one bad apple to spoil the bunch regardless of how hard the other apples try to stay pristine. One stupid comment and suddenly, whether or not the audience agrees with the ideas behind said comment, everyone is tainted. What has been said cannot be unsaid and creates what I like to refer to as “Hate Memory”. “Hate Memory” is when something incredibly ugly is muttered by some insecure pig that the listener has never heard before, and said comment burrows itself in the listeners mind, remaining their for the duration of their life. For example, I briefly worked as a telephone operator in a luxurious Pennsylvania hotel. While all of the amenities hotel wide were top of the line, the copy machine behind the desk (where the affluent dare not see) was about as technologically advanced as Dougie Howser’s PC. It would break down at the mere thought of making a copy. I swore the thing was hexed. One day, while I was up to my elbows in torn paper and a deadly mist of ink drum powder a slack jawed colleague of mine took a moment to observe as he sipped the remainder of a lukewarm macchiato. He sucked his teeth as I stuck my fingers into the sharpest edges of the feeder desperately searching for the microscopic bits of paper that had defied every one of my attempts to declare: “You’ll never get that thing fixed. It’s been Nigg-r rigged past the point of no return.” I turned to him with a look as blank as the reams of paper stacked beside me. I didn’t even know where to begin. I looked around desperately for someone else in the audience thinking that I needed assurance that what was said was actually said because obviously this had to be some sort of aural deceit. All at once I was overcome with the desire to scream for HR, kick blindly into the air and start chucking office supplies (items on the heavier side of the spectrum) but all I could muster out was a dizzy “What does that even mean?!” Not one for backing down from the opportunity to “educate” someone Dough Chin nonchalantly pulled a proverbial chair, took a metaphorical seat and decided to take a moment to fill me in on his ugly verbiage. “You ever put duct tape on something instead of fixing it?” he asked. I continued to peer at him blankly. “Instead of really fixing the fax machine they just fix it enough to get by. That’s called Nigg-r rigging.” Suddenly my stomach turned. I finally “got” what he meant but hadn’t ever wanted to understand the train of thought that belonged to people like him. I was initiated against my will. Apparently Putty Face was trying to tell me that White People simply used duct tape for ducts. Unlike people of color who used it to haphazardly fix everything else. It’s been years and yet that incredibly hateful term still haunts me. This day in age many feel that with a Black president in the White House we have become a progressive nation, so progressive in fact that that we are at liberty to say, for lack of better vocabulary, extremely stupid shit. Now, saying extremely stupid shit isn’t a new trend, it’s been happening since the dawn of man, but for some reason nowadays stupid shit is tolerated simply because it falls under the category of “opinion”. Apparently in 2010 almost all opinions are to be tolerated, especially when said opinion is passed off as a joke. A few of the “gems” I’ve overheard in my last few years in the workforce: In regards to a Muslim colleague “What MP3 playlist? I didn’t know that camels had a jack for an iPod!” LOL! A gorgeous single’s view on the dating pool “I’m not into black guys; I mean black guys just aren’t known for being attractive.” LMAO, leave them all for me you ignorant whore! “I’ve gotta say, for a Puerto Rican you have a very professional manner.” ROLFuck you, it must have taken you forever to meet every single Puerto Rican on the planet and scientifically come to this conclusion. Unfortunately the laughs don’t just stop there; I have so many “zingers” in the mental Rolodex that I could write a set for Lisa Lampanelli’s eternal gig in the fiery afterlife. I understand that opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got one and that racist assholes are like malls (they’re fucking EVERYWHERE in Texas) but what I can’t wrap my scarred mind around is when did we stop being so angry? I’m not one for violence and I in no way, shape or form pine for the days of Rodney King-era riots but one of the things I was always in support of was the fact that music used to be the go-to non violent way to get your message out about racism. For decades the music industry had been chocked full of artists and the various anthems that declared that there was a price to pay for being racist. What happened to that time? Even rap music, the music that flourished most in the pop culture pantheon when it was angry has seemed to be defanged. With all the wrongs going on in our country, Arizona’s treatment of illegal immigrants, Tea Party members photoshopping a bone through the nose of our current president, the media having scant positive representation of people of color, John Mayer raping the musical history of countless African American blues artists and then declaring that he had a “David Duke Cock” I wonder why radios haven’t combusted, microphones haven’t exploded and Cd’s haven’t melted in their cases while displayed next to the cash register at Best Buy. We are obviously still at war with ignorant thought, where is our battle cry? To tie this all together I say this: it’s not okay to lose your job because you pummeled the office bigot (this is especially wrong if you’re a person of color since they’ll only say you became violent because it was in your “nature”) but it’s okay to pick up a guitar and write a song about said bigot. If you don’t make music its okay to make pissed off art. If you don’t make anything I demand that you support those who do. Don’t just sit there when someone says that special something that makes your skin crawl. Instead buy an old Rage Against the Machine album, play that KRS-One song as loud as you can when you pull out of that corporate parking lot, listen to Bad Brains every time Jeff Foxworthy is on your television screen. Surround yourself with the music and art that tells you that people who look like you are the backbone to this imperfect country and anyone who disagrees can take a hike somewhere in Wasila or whatever other locale they tolerate that brand of bullshit.
After countless hours of labor and with the assistance of seven of the world’s greatest doulas our second video is finally complete!
FROM THE MOUTHS OF BABES
It is with great pleasure that we take a moment to highlight the work of one of our VITAMYN proteges. Our friend Charli recently completed a school project that discussed the importance of music during the Civil Rights era and showcased some of her favorite current artists. Not only do we think the paper dolls she made are incredibly fierce, we also find that her descriptions are simply dead on. The Rhianna blurb is especially wonderful.
Please enjoy!
The trailer for the new Season of “Boardwalk Empire” and all I can say is Michael K Williams may (possibly) be coming up against a few white hooded foes. I’d love to see “Omar” obliterate some KKK idiots. Our interest is definitely piqued.
F*CK YEAH FOOD
The amazing Baklava Sundae at Atlanta’s Majestic Diner. Thank you ATL, it was fun while it lasted.
Taking the train the other day we were pleasantly surprised by a familiar face on a billboard. We haven’t seen Malik Yoba in much of anything since “New York Undercover” went off the air but it was great to see him on the poster for SyFy’s upcoming show “Alphas”.
Which reminds us, Yoba was in a dated (at the time) HIV PSA short that we saw in high school entitled “Seriously Fresh”. It was amazing to see the same heartthrob of “Undercover” do a capable job of portraying a young gay man who was afraid that his past, condom free daillances would come back to haunt him. It’s not a bad flick and Yoba’s performance is strong which makes it even more of a head scratcher that he hasn’t been cast more often.
In regards to “New York Undercover”, one of the greatest injustices ever suffered by fans of 90’s television is that “Undercover” is not available on DVD. Of course, we are being incredibly melodramatic with that statement but what’s the problem with that? Incredibly flawed but immensely entertaining, “New York Undercover” had an AMAZING soundtrack (after a long day of crime fighting how can you resist a musical guest?), episodes that dealt with realistic urban issues and a refreshing cast of good looking people from diverse backgrounds. Also, one of my first girl crushes was on Patti D’Arbanville whose character Lt. Virginia Cooper always gave me Cindi Lauper/Debbie Harry vapors and had the bomb accent.
Limited release on July 29th. Cannot wait.
Dear Santa,
I know it’s still early but all we’d like for Christmas is for someone to give Chris Cunningham copious amounts of money to make a horror feature.
Thank You,
La Pildora
Lately we’ve been turning to music videos for inspiration and while this one is an oldie, it’s still a goody. Simple. Catchy. Animated.
