Morris Day: Purple Rain Protagonist

Today is National Superhero Day & my favorite superhero is Morris Day… the actual hero of Purple Rain. I’ll explain…

Morris Day never laid a hand on anyone while Prince spent the whole second act abusing Apollonia physically and psychologically.

Before that could happen, Morris tried to get Apollonia out the situation cause he knew what kinda cat “The Kid” was… she didn’t listen.

Morris provided refuge for Apollonia from Prince’s cycle of abuse AND gave her a group to be the star of because he knew she deserved it.

Moreover, Morris knew about Prince’s home problems & didn’t blame him for them, but tried to hold him to a higher regard than his father.

Morris was pushing Prince in the way a good father figure should to be the best musician. That’s why he called Prince “The Kid”.

After Prince’s pops shoots himself, it may have seemed cruel to say “How’s the family?”, but that was Day countering Prince’s psychosis.

That’s why Day showed IMMEDIATE remorse when he was out of everyone’s sight. He felt bad but knew Prince needed a push for Purple Rain.

Morris’ “jab” led to Prince’s greatest performance & Morris was in the crowd cheering “The Kid” on like the proud dad he is. A superhero.

Morris Day pulled off a diabolical scheme to help lift Prince to his full potential & repair his relationship with Apollonia… superhero.

The flashiness & boisterous attitude of Morris Day was a facade to throw us off the fact that he was, in fact, Prince’s guardian angel.

Find a salt grain and take that.

I Wanted Rick Snyder to Succeed…

But we’re far beyond that now. I’ve never been closer to voting for a Republican as I was when Rick Snyder ran for governor of Michigan. He aired the most compelling political ads I’d ever seen in my adult years. In those 60 second spots, he wanted us to understand only one thing, he was a nerd. That’s it… just a fiscally responsible, number-crunching nerd that wanted nothing more than to bottom line everything (and, boy, did he ever keep that promise). I loved it. But my core wouldn’t allow me to fill in that Scantron for a member of the pachyderm party.

I know, factually, that all Republicans aren’t bad or wish ill on others. For a lot of them, it just boils down to money and who’s making sure theirs isn’t squandered. I feel that. That’s why I felt Snyder. He was in the John McCain pool of Conservatives where, if he won, c’est la vie. But it’s that part about being in the same fraternity as some of the worst people to ever walk the planet (KKK, Ronald Reagan, Dylann Roof, Dracula, etc) that makes it all but impossible for me to fill in that oval. And, albeit punch drunk by well crafted commercials, I remained steadfast in that rationalization. I genuinely wish I was wrong.

I apologize if this seems silly, but, personally, the first red flag post governance was when Snyder made “The Dark Knight Rises” leave Michigan. He’s supposed to be a nerd… what the hell, man?! But all he saw was the numbers. He didn’t see how giving a movie of that magnitude tax breaks and incentives helped Detroit and its surrounding areas. The caterers, restaurateurs, trinket store owners, tour guides, Pure Michigan, cab drivers, Meijer, Eastern Market, and the residents could, but not the governor… okay.

Along comes Flint and the 2015 that will be talked about for many solar revolutions. Snyder sees another problem and bottom lines it. Detroit is the best water in the world and is therefore expensive. Flint is under a perpetual financial crisis. What more can be cut? Then Snyder (probably) says, “Can someone bring me a glass of that delicious Detroit imported Flint tap water so I can think of how to fix this… EUREKA!”

And, just like that, 2 plus 2 was 4. Cut off the Detroit water, save money. Switch use to the Flint River, save money. But, whoops, now there’s enough lead in the water to protect Batman’s identity from Superman by simply taking a shower there. I know this was much more DC Universe tripe than you thought you’d read here. Nevertheless, I’m sure the decision came from a well meaning place. I know the governor could’ve done without lead poisoning children. But not meaning to start the apocalypse does not stop the apocalypse. This is why I couldn’t fill in that oval all those years ago. Sometimes the bottom line is not a line to be crossed.

Response to ‘A Cop’s Wife’

I don’t do much blogging anymore, but Kristi Neace’s post inspired me to get back at it. She wrote an impassioned editorial on what it’s like to be married to a police officer in the wake of what’s happening in Ferguson, MO. I strongly encourage you to read it before continuing. I wanted to address Mrs. Neace directly in hopes that she reads it and can make sense of the outcry.

Mrs. Neace, I can understand this viewpoint as it makes perfect sense from your side. But you have to take time to flip that coin. I only ask that you consider a line of logic lifted right from your writing.

You asked us to stop and think what it would be like to work over 80 hours a week. You also brought up the night terrors experienced if any sleep is had at all. Most notably, you wrote about how the stresses of the job take a toll on the minds and psyches of police officers.

Honestly, I’ve thought about all these things. I’ve done much empathizing about it. But I wonder if you considered the fact that someone afflicted with all that you mentioned might be problematic with a gun in hand. If you took the veil of police officer from that person you described, would you want THAT person to be armed? We’re expected to believe police officers somehow will always rise above that toll on their psyche. But they’re regular people under severe stress with deadly weapons. Can you understand how that would be scary for unarmed citizens?

As you stated, police officers routinely miss meals and important family functions only to deal with thugs and drunks causing carnage. I’m neither of those but was born and live in a place where that exists. By happenstance, I may look and dress like those drunk thugs because we have the same influences though we chose different paths. Have you considered my unease when a person with a handheld WMD that’s already worked 80 hours is looking for a drunk thug that looks and dresses like me?

So I get it. I’m sure when you hear someone on TV exclaim “They left Mike Brown in the middle of the street for hours!”, you shake your head cause you know that’s likely because they can’t tamper with the evidence of what is now a murder scene. You probably see a tweet saying “These cops hate your black skin!” and want to furiously respond with #NotAllCops. I get it. And the frustration you feel with people that don’t get it is warranted. But you don’t truly know their frustration either.

Please take this journey in my head for a moment. You said your husband wanted to be a police officer since he was a boy. He grew up to be a man that reached that commendable goal. But a police officer is a person that is given carte blanche to rule over civilians with an iron fist (an iron fist that fires bullets, might I add). You can’t tell me a person that’s wanted that type of lordship since childhood is not stricken with at least a hint of megalomania. Couple that with the mental instability you worked hard for us to sympathize with. Imagine how it feels for me to have to deal with a person heralded because of a uniform that’s on the brink of psychosis and carrying both grandeur delusions and tools for ending my life. Sounds a bit rough, does it not?

Unfortunately you and I can’t immediately do anything about the ungodly hours and the mental health issues that go along with police work. But there are legislators that can. If you and I can put pressure on them to allocate funds limiting police officers to 12 hour days and to treat depression, bipolar disorders, and the like as if they’re real problems, then maybe we can make some progress. But you and I also have to come together and get assault rifles out of the hands of police, get real sensitivity training administered, and make them live in the communities they’re sworn to protect… but you didn’t say any of those things. The empathy you want readers to feel for police officers and their families should be packaged with your disgust with a teenager being murdered unjustly by one… that didn’t happen in what you wrote. Instead, you gave us bible scriptures from which “Thou shalt not kill” is a really big thing in.

So I hope you understand that what you’re saying is merited. But it’s imperative to understand both sides. It doesn’t seem like you’ve done that as meticulously as you think. Having to deal with thugs and drunks’ carnage all day after missing your daughter’s recital doesn’t give him or her the right to shoot me on my way home from NOT causing those things. I’d like to think I added some perspective as having it is the only way we are all going to fix this. If not, we’ll just have this conversation again next time.

Spike Lee’s Oldboy Was Better

Not trying to be incendiary, it’s the truth. I am a big fan of the original Oldboy. But everything that was dumb, useless, and absurd was taken out or made to make more sense in the remake.
I felt like I was the only person in the world that was excited for Lee’s reimagining of Park Chan-wook’s masterpiece. But, because of my demanding work schedule, I didn’t get to see it right away. Well, unfortunately I was pretty much right about being the only one that wanted to see it. In a five day opening, it made just over $1M… those are B-movie type profits. Moreover, when my schedule opened up and I plotted out time to go see it (which was less than two weeks later), it had already been ushered out of the theaters.
I just watched Lee’s Oldboy last night through some all too normal, albeit illegal, means… I downloaded it. I figured, with the bad publicity and terrible reviews, I was wasting my time trying to see it anyway. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Because of that, I feel really bad for Spike. He got set up. He got put in a losing position. No matter what, fanboys were going to hate it because it was made… period. And, let’s just call it as we see it, critics hate Spike Lee. So he was already way behind the eight ball. Then the studios clearly weren’t trying to put any money behind it. I feel like it was a concerted effort to make sure Lee will not be allowed to make another big budget movie again. That sucks.
I’ll give you hardcore fans the fact that Chan-wook’s iconic, single shot fight scene in the original was broken up in Lee’s. It borderlines blasphemy (although, I believe it was Lee’s plan to have a continuous shot). Nevertheless, the remake was better. I’d even venture so far as to say much better. It was more palatable and more believable. So if you’re mad there was no stupid giant ant or octopus snack or hypnotism in Lee’s remake, I can’t help you. But if you’re willing to believe that Park Chan-wook’s movie actually could have been improved upon, I’d suggest you seek it out.
To Spike Lee, you made a damn good film. I wish I could’ve seen it in the theater, but consider the BluRay bought. You were very ambitious playing a game you couldn’t win. I enjoyed the sport.

Young Jeezy Is a Bag Overflowing with Scum

Hello, friends. I hope you’re enjoying 2013. Unfortunately I have to start my first post of the new year with a rant. I hope you’ll accept my apologies, but stupidity forces my need to write.

Sometimes my brother uses my iTunes account to buy songs/albums. They’re usually not tracks I gravitate to. He bought Young Jeezy’s TM:103 Hustlerz Ambition (yes, I realize I’m very late). Though I’d never buy that album for myself, Young Jeezy intrigues me. One day I decided I’d listen to the joints while doing stuff around the house… why the hell did I do that?

So the 3rd song is called OJ featuring a couple more Rocky Mountain Oysters named Fabolous and Jadakiss. I’ll spare you the details of the track and just fast forward to my point of contention: the last line of the chorus goes “Killin’ that white bitch/OJ”.

Sigh.

Whatever you think about OJ Simpson, the trial, etc is whatever you think about it and that’s fine. However, it’s really messed up that family members of Nicole Brown Simpson can’t be fans of rap/hip-hop because any of its ambassadors at any point in time may make a horrific lyric about their slain loved one. Nicole Brown Simpson is a murder victim. She didn’t do anything justifying being killed nor her killing be used in a sick metaphor. What part of being brutally stabbed to death makes you a “white bitch” exactly? Moreover, why is that okay?

I imagine if I wrote that line to finish my hook, I’d say to myself ‘You know what, Ruf, that’s not cool’ and figure out some different rhyming words. Young Jeezy, though… nope. I bet he didn’t have a second thought. How stingy can you be with your damns not to give one just from a standpoint of empathy? What kind of foolishness are consumers on where knowing he probably didn’t think twice about that line doesn’t act as a deterrent?

It’s cool, though. Go ahead and support these knuckle draggers no matter what they do. I’ll be over here waiting for you to get mad when Young Jeezy says something dumb like “I’ll take your kids out/Sandy Hook” and ask why you’re surprised.

Well isn’t that nice.

Detroit CYDI – To Be Continued

Yes, I do other things besides make death-inducing breakfast sandwiches. My group Detroit CYDI just debuted our new video called To Be Continued. The song is one of my favorites we’ve ever made. Moreover, the fun we had making the video is incalculable. Hopefully you’ve seen The Avengers allllllll the way to the end so the video will be that much funnier to you. SHOUT OUT TO BYBLOS FOR THE DELICIOUS SHAWARMAS! I hope you like it:

Toast of D-Town Ep 1

Writing about food is cool, but see it in motion is more ideal for the sophisticated bunch I attract. Reading may be fundamental, but watching is… ummm… MORE FUN-damental. So in this first foray into bringing French toast to moving pictures, I give you Oreo Birthday Cake stuffed French toast… you’ll need a cold shower after this (and watch it in 720P HD!):

Mocha Cappuccino French Toast

I am completely enamored by the word “new”. When I see it, I must have it. So imagine how big my eyes got when I saw a jar of Jif with “New Jif Mocha Cappuccino Flavored Hazelnut Spread” emblazoned on the front. You know what I thought… IT’S FRENCH TOAST TIME! I got mad at my knife for getting to taste it before I did:

Since sugar was the first ingredient in the Jif, I didn’t even bother putting any in the egg wash. So I just stirred up 2 whole eggs with some vanilla extract. You know the deals after that:

Yeah, I know that’s 2 French toast sandwiches… how about you shut up. ANYWAY, the Jif had a warning on the back that said “may contain almond” (among other nuts). Though it may have just been an alphabetical thing, I figured, since almonds was the first thing I saw, it may as well definitely contain almonds. So I topped the French toast with sliced almonds, Sanders hot fudge and Cool Whip (this next picture may have you looking like one of Pavlov’s dogs):

WIPE YOUR FACE! This was absolutely delicious, friends. The almonds gave it a nice crunch. The fudge acting as a syrup substitute was wonderful. But, with all that being the case, the mocha cappuccino flavor was still the star. I mean, just look at it:

This is certainly one of my favorite ones to date. What I love the most about French toast is that it can be made to look pretty and taste illegally good but not take very long to make. I say that because I want you to make it and see if you agree with me. So do me that solid and have fun getting fat and feeling fine about it!

Can Porn Music Get A Grammy?

I was 10 years old. It was my father’s visitation day. He took me to his apartment and left me there alone for an extended period of time. He didn’t really do the father thing correctly lol. I digress. I was bored and looked around for something to watch. VCRs still existed. While looking for movies, I stumbled across a VHS tape entitled White Bunbusters. Typing those letters made me giggle just now. Porn is cool so I put the tape in. I was not at all ready for the song that would follow pressing the play button. For 20 years after I told my friends the folklore of the White Bunbusters theme song. Problem was I couldn’t find evidence of this movie’s existence. It was like a figment of my sordid musical imagination. Nevertheless, its legend was strong. My friends and I would randomly sing the magical song of White Bunbusters though I was the only one that had ever actually heard it. I nearly gave up trying to find it as I knew only Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster had a copy that they listened to and laughed about on their UFO over tea. Well I checked one more time. When I tell you YouTube is a gift from any and every God that has ever taken time out to do God stuff, this video is what I mean. It proves I’m not crazy. Moreover, it allows you to get the song stuck in your head that should be our new national anthem. Without further adieu, I give to you the greatest song in opening credits history, White Bunbusters:

Negative is Positive

Guess what? I’m negative. I’m negative for AIDS, HIV, gonorrhea, chlamydia, gout, scurvy, all that shit, yo (okay, the last two aren’t sexually transmitted diseases and should be ignored)! You may be thinking “He hasn’t posted in so long… why is he telling me THIS?!” Well, it’s not because I want to have sex with you (no offense). It’s also not because I was the least bit worried I’d be positive for any of those STDs and felt like I dodged bullets. Nope. I’m telling you this because I’m a man.

On a grand scale, we don’t take care of ourselves. And frankly, it’s stupid. I need us to not be stupid. There are four things I hate more than anything else on this planet: roaches, centipedes, mosquitoes and AIDS. Until I can figure out a government mandated way to eradicate the first three, I want to help kick AIDS’ ass.

The only way to do that is to make people (specifically men) stop being fearful/wary/skeptical of getting checked. Only way to do that is to lead by example. So I got tested… but I got the whole kit ‘n’ kaboodle. That means my finger was pricked, blood drawn, a urine test and the dreaded “swab”.

Before I get into the particulars, let me relay this message: ALL THOSE TESTS COST ME $5! Some cases it’s even free! I’ve gotten the free HIV test before, but I hadn’t gone through this whole process until this go round.

I went mid afternoon and it still only took maybe 1.5 hours total. The doctor asked questions about my sexual history and simultaneously pricked my finger. I literally had no idea she pricked my finger until she started pushing blood out of it. It’s the most painless procedure possible and it’s the one that checks for HIV. Getting your blood pressure checked at a machine in CVS hurts more than making sure you’re HIV negative. Anyway, part of that 1.5 hours is the 15 minute wait it takes for the HIV test to finish. So on to other stuff.

Next was the blood draw. Honestly, we humans tend to psych ourselves out when it comes to needles. EVERY time I think it’s going to be this terrible stabbing and it’s nothing. If anything, the blood draw is equivalent to what I would THINK the finger prick should’ve felt like. That was probably over in 10 seconds. Sweet… I’m almost done. Then she says “This is usually when the guys run out the door.”

Awww shit. I asked if it was because of the idea of what was about to happen or because of actual discomfort. She said it was mostly the latter. Awww shit squared. [Here is the point where I’m going to be very specific; if you don’t want to read, go to the next paragraph, but know that all was good] She grabs a very thin metal rod that’s coiled at one end and has a swab at the other. She tells me I’ll need to pull my pants down so she can put the swab inside the immediate opening of my urethra (aka the tip of my junk) and use the coiled end to turn the swab. Awww shit cubed. Though nervous as all of the hell, there was no turning back. So I tried my best to relax and let her do what she had to do. But, just like everything else, it was much ado about nothing! I’m thinking it would be all types of archaic savagery and I’d be writhing in pain during and after. Instead, I believe ‘That was it?!’ was my exact quote. That was, indeed, it.

Last thing I had to do was pee in a cup. After all that other stuff, the finish line was peeing in a cup?! There’s NO WAY checking for STDs is this easy… but it is. And, yeah, that was it! Those tests went off to a lab. By the time I was done with them is when she told me I was negative for HIV and gonorrhea. Even when you know for a fact that you’re HIV negative, unless you’ve been tested, you have no idea how good it feels to be told you’re HIV negative and have it backed by actual facts. Five bucks for a clean bill of health. Five bucks to know I’m not a statistic. Five bucks to let you know this shit is easy as pie. I can’t stress enough how foolish it is for us to rather go being unsure than to spend $5 and 60+ minutes taking virtually painless tests.

I wrote this so you can understand that it’s nothing. Seriously, it’s incredibly easy. And you’ll know. And you’ll feel great knowing. Imagine having a Hot ‘n’ Ready along with documented proof that you’re HIV negative and having only spent $10. That’s the reality. So please just go get tested. It’s nothing. Listen, it’s nothing. Practice negativity. Be safe out here.