Obama in Oregon

The Truth

"The truth is like the sun in that its benefit is entirely dependent on our distance from it."

Probably the realest statement in the history of all time. Kind of stings a little, huh?

The Morning (Night) After

So, the concert was sick.


It opened up with Lupe Fiasco, who actually had a decent-sized audience for an opener. His album, The Cool, had just gone gold the day of the concert, which is perfect. (Pick it up; it's really, really good.) His performance was fantastic -- the flow and delivery were nasty, the words were clear and precise, his energy was nuts, and his set wasn't at all enhanced by any extraordinary lighting or stage props, but still GREAT. He mostly did songs from the new album, but also threw in some old stuff like, "Kick, Push." The audience showed him a lot of love, which I felt good about. He deserved it.




Next came Pharrell with N.E.R.D. The lights during this set were ridiculous. Just ridiculous. At some points it felt more like a rock concert than a rap one, with people tossing their heads back and forth, throwing up that Star Trek sign, and N.E.R.D. going nuts onstage. Lupe came out at one point to jump around with them. It felt like there should have been a mosh pit and the lights definitely reflected that frenetic/chaotic/sporadic feel, and it was awesome to be a part of. You couldn't help wanting to freak out with them.


Then Rihanna hit the stage, and the set was weak. She started singing other people's songs, including Beenie Man's "Girl Dem Sugah (Sim Simma)" and, in perhaps the night's worst moment, Lauryn Hill's "That Thing." Was she serious? But then Chris Brown made a guest appearance during "Umbrella" and I was appeased. Her set definitely brought down my high from an otherwise DOPE opening. A lot of people seemed to be enjoying her, though, so this is totally just my opinion. And her body was looking freakin' right in the black leather pants she changed into after this random goth ball gown.


Last, of course, came Kayne. Watching this dude perform is like watching a movie, or a Broadway play. The stage design kept changing, the lighting was intricate and fluid, and he weaved every song from "Graduation" into this plot about getting lost in space and finding his way back home. There was a talking spaceship, an ego-boosting alien ("We need the biggest star in the universe to save the ship...We need you, Kanye."), hologram video hoes and more. Kanye is a dramatist. I definitely felt bad for him at some points, laughed at his crazy dancing, felt inspired by his energy, and found myself screaming every lyric I knew, totally caught up in the whole thing. It was a show in the true sense of the word -- a true spectacle -- not a rap concert. It was really, truly something to see.


As a side note, the seats were great, and sitting a few feet to my left were Anthony Anderson, Jay-Z, Beyonce, John Legend, Quest Love, Angie Martinez, P. Diddy, and some other 'celebs.' It was kinda cool to see artists supporting another artist.


You can see more pics & some video clips here. And here's the Times review of the show, if you're interested. Tell me what you think. Enjoy!

You Can Be My Black Kate Moss Tonight

This is where I'll be tomorrow night. The stage design is supposed to be NASTY, including stuff from Jim Henson's Creature Shop (of Muppet Babies fame), holograms, a robot designed by Christian Colon, and some really sick lighting. I did hear that Kanye got pissed about some lukewarm review of the concert in some other city. What are your predictions?

Cryster Barr, Chinese Style

I've gotten some pretty weird fortune cookie fortunes before. The most notable has to be the one that said, "Help! I'm trapped in a Chinese bakery!" I'm sure it was meant to be humorous and fun, but I couldn't sleep that night. I knew it had to be a joke, but I thought...what if...what if someone was in fact trapped, and I got the fortune that could save his/her life? And I'm just lying here, in my bed in America. Doing nothing.

The Indian Ones

"Hello, medem. This is Patrick 'O Brien. Are you heppy veeth your Dell?"

I'm going to follow up on a comment that was left by a friend of mine on the last post. Here's part of it:

"I am SO with you on the female customer service representatives. I HATE them. Especially when I call Dell and get the Indian ones (no offense!). But seriously, there are times that I do hang up and wait until I get a man."

No offense taken. You know what irks me the most about those Indian ones, though? It's not their accent or the fact that they call you after you've hung up with them to make sure everything is still okay with your computer. "Haylo medem, thees iss Jon frrrrom Dell. Jast vonted to make sho ebrything was tip top veeth your machine."

It's like, dude, I know your name isn't Jon. It's Ramlallpati Singh. It's Jaswinder Abishek Patel. It's okay, man, don't be ashamed. I'll call you Ram. But I know your name isn't Peter, son. I just feel kind of insulted when you introduce yourself as Kevin.

Am I a Misogynist?

I don't think that's the word I'm looking for.

I thought that maybe I'm just not a feminist, but I do believe that women should have equal rights. Maybe it's that I'm old-fashioned? But there's a lot of shit about me and the way I think that's on the very far left of the progressive/liberal spectrum. And yet here I am, a firm believer in the following statements:

1. Female customer service representatives are completely incompetent. If you're ever calling Verizon, Apple, etc. and you hear "Hi this is (female name) from blah, how may I help you today?," please hang up and redial until you get a man. Trust what I'm telling you.

2. I like when a man tells me what to do. When I'm with a guy, I think I respect him more when he tells me not to wear something or go somewhere or talk to someone. Not, "I respect that you're independent but I don't feel comfortable with that dress." More like, "You're not going out like that, change." This extends into a sexual context, also, although I won't divulge those details here.

3. Women cry too freakin' much. It's a universal truth that men don't cry as often. Women cry always. I'll admit to being guilty of this. If a commercial about those 'ten cents a day' kids comes on with some cheesy piano music, my lip starts quivering. It's ridiculous.

4. I wholeheartedly believe that it's a woman's place to cook and clean (including laundry). Sure, I might like some help once in a while. But no man of mine is going to be whistling around the house with a handkerchief tied around his head and a mop in his hand with his sweats rolled up. No.

Any thoughts on this?