Friday, July 20, 2007

Back to Back Rhymin' - Three Times Dope - Ep 2

[The Saga Continues]


Spark: Will Spike Lee ever win an Oscar? Smart money says no, but I say yes. (The Milwaukee Bucks, by the way, are totally going to win the 2008 NBA Finals, thus sparking World War IV) If he does, it better not be of the Lifetime Achievement variety, like the one the Academy gave Robert Altman.

Denz: An Oscar? For most best dramatic sideline performance during a Knicks game, sure.

I wonder, though. I enjoyed Inside Man, but no one would have considered it Oscar material. I think Lee has evolved from a punchy and talented upstart to a polished and mature moviemaker. However, looking at his recent catalogue, he seems to have polished off that edge required for greatness. Know what I mean?

It's an interesting question. Maybe the next stage in his career will see both sides of Lee converge into something worthy of Oscar consideration. That'll always be dependant on a great, great story though.

But you're right, you can book a Lifetime Achievement if it doesn't eventuate.

Fuzon: Sorry Spike, but you're not going to see an Oscar in the near, distant, or before-the-singularity future. Summer of Sam was entertaining, but it still wasn't that good.

Denz: Now, there's a question - who do you think would present it to him? And what kind of film does he need to make to avoid the Lifetime of Mediocrity award?

Spark: It's hard for me to answer this question, because I'm a full-fledged Spike Lee homer. 25th Hour is a great film, one which I would say ranks among the 25 (50?) best films of the decade. And despite its unevenness, Summer of Sam is another fave. Don't ask me about She Hate Me, Girl 6, Inside Man, and some others, because I haven't come close to peeping every work in the guy's oeuvre -- but the man is prolific, and every now and then will drop a gem on 'em. He Got Game is dope like contraband (as any film with Ray Allen and Chasey Lain in its credits ought to be), as are Clockers, Crooklyn, Malcolm X, Jungle Fever, and his magnum opus, Do the Right Thing. Me being lazy (that's what happens when I stay up all night watching seasons 1 through 8 of America's Next Top Model), I'd say all he needs to do to nab that statue is remake Do the Right Thing with an Hispanic-immigrants-to-the-US slant. Cast John "Luigi" Leguizamo as Radio Rodriguez, not now but right now.

As for who would present the award, Quentin Tarantino immediately leaps to mind, if only for the awkwardness it would present. Some other candidates include Denzel Washington, Danny Aiello, Rosario Dawson, and Nancy Lang. But -- and here's why I should produce the Oscars -- the ultimate presenter would be Chuck D. Can you imagine an octogenarian Chuck waxing poetic on the career of Sir Spike? My life will truly be fulfilled the day I witness that.

And if not Chuck, it better as fuck be Reggie Miller.

Denz: Well, that was uncalled for.

Fuzon: In my estimation, there are two obvious choices for presenter: Shermon Hemsley or Rosie Perez, the caveat being that Perez would have to present the award to Spike topless, or at least in a damp, white T-shirt. Don't mistake me for a misogynist, though, for as per Kermo's desire, Hemsley would have to show up topless, pantless, or dressed up as a giant, castoff tampon. Whatever, dude.

Spark: Next question -- Can beatdowns of the critical persuasion be handed out to anyone who cites Digable Planets' Blowout Comb as his favorite hip-hop album? Hey, I margarinally* liked them back in the day, but c'mon. That's like claiming Shock G/Humpty Hump** is the G.O.A.T.

Fuzon: You guys know that I can't comment upon hip-hop with any credibility. Sure, I know Shock G/Humpty Hump, but that's not saying much. I certainly agree that Blowout Comb is a far cry from the ultimate album, but then again, I thought Arrested Development was kind of cool.

Denz: I seem to remember my older brother getting into Blowout Comb - I didn't. Actually, who said this anyway? When I hear things like this, I make a mental note to disregard anything that person says in the future. I think we can safely say this about this person's opinion. Release the hounds.

Speaking of which, I find a lot of hip-hop tracks/albums age woefully. I know that part of it is me getting older and the lyrics I used to bob my head now make me shake my head, nevertheless the classics stay classic. I think a good measure of a songĂ­s longevity is its capacity to be turned into spoken word (or indeed any other), and still retain legitimacy. My Q -- What are five tracks old hip hop tracks that would definitely hit as spoken word?

Spark: I gotta pick just five? OK, here's what immediately springs to mind:

i) My Melody by Eric B and Ra. I could also go with Microphone Fiend, which Rage Against the Machine proved can transcend the hip-hop genre to sexy results. (Also, my gut instinct was to pick PE's Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos, if only to hear someone such as Saul Williams elocute "And to my rescue? The S1Ws.)

ii) Take a Look Around by Masta Ace. Already a remake of The Revolution Will Not Be Televised by Gil-Scott Hero(i)n, shit deserves and update.

iii) War by Dilated Peoples. Five years is old enough, right?****** Again, this is almost spoken word in its delivery anyway, but, like The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, could be freaked to include mention of the Iraq "conflict" and Stringer Bell vs. Avon Barksdale.

iv) Buddy by De La Soul. I'm tempted to do this myself, record it, and post it on YouTube. I don't need much convincing.

v) Wisdom Body by Raekwon (feat. Ghostface Killah). Swish.

(While you're here, I will spit in the mouth of anyone who claims Cuban Linx is not a better album than Liquid Swords.)

Fuzon: Speaking of Rage Against the Machine, I'd almost be willing to listen to Darkness as spoken word.

Spark: Who's the handsomest baller in the NBA? As much as I love Dwyane Wade, I have to pick Damon Stoudamire. Because I love black men with blue eyes***. That question just shattered your gaydar, I know, but I don't care. In fact, I'm tempted to create a Top 25 Sexiest NBA Players post. I don't give a what; I'm comfortable with my sexuality. I had sex today. With a woman. And it doesn't matter that she was synthetic.

Denz: I told you not to drink alone, didn't I?

My boss thinks Zo is a good looking chap. She's convinced he'll have a movie career when he retires. When she speaks like this, I don't know how to react. That's how I feel right now, Spark.

I'm going to go with David Lee, but that's probably just Stockholm Syndrome more than an overwhelming need to be impregnated by him (also, not racist). If I had to have a man date though, I'd pick Gilbert Arenas. He seems like a nice guy.

I eagerly anticipate the PK Draft on this topic. I'm going to spend the rest of the day trading my draft picks to Kermo for women with protracted divorce settlements and bad knees.

Fuzon: Gary Payton, baby! I'd have his baby, if the little baller could roll itself out of my ass. Okay, not quite, but he's such a foxy bitch that you'd have to give it a moment of contemplation, barring hormonal inclination and whatnot.

Denz: That's the possibly the most wrong thing I have read.

Aiight, so when are we going to do the Kimochi Draft? At the moment, most of our hits come from Meg White, Allison Stokke, Chloe Sevigny and Nancy Yang so we'd be pitching to some converted batters. Nevertheless, categories: what would we run?

Spark: Do NOT make Allison Stokke a sex symbol! For my part, I promise to keep double-entendre "pole vaulting" jokes exclusive to when I'm in close company with like-minded, depraved idiots, and not on the Internet (check your email).

As for the Kimochi Draft, I'm conflicted whether I want to go ahead with it in the near future (say it ain't so! Word to Weezer). See, I've found religion...

Pulling your leg of course, but if we do it, we have to do it right. And these days I haven't been able to -- for various reasons -- scout talent, as it were. I'm scared that my first pick might be Caprice (or, worse, Nate Robinson).

Here's my idea: instead of our original plan of blondes, brunettes, redheads and amputees (word to Heather Mills), let's just go with features, regardless of hair color, race, age, fame (finally, a chance to spotlight the part-time girl at my local 7-11!), etc.

Therefore, I propose that the Kimochi Draft's categories include:
  • bust (I think it's clear where my libido's allegiance lies)
  • S-line (the whole Korea thing; gotta represent, at least sometimes)
  • lips/smile (the face is too broad a category and needs to be broken down, for the sake of the children; as such, I will stab you if you pick Kim Ah-Jung in the teeth department)
  • legs
  • Nancy Lang
Let me know your thoughts.

Fuzon: Yeah, I have some thoughts, namely that temporal relativity should be encouraged when drafting (I prefer to consider it impressment, myself). Sure, P.J. Soles isn't looking too hot these days, but at one point she was all the rage. In addition, does anyone recall the Golden Voyage of Sinbad? I do, and Caroline Munro is in the club. Disagreement is acceptable, especially if you don't mind losing an ear a la the Bite Fight.

Bonus Query: Wasn't Ray Harryhausen the man?

Denz: Wait, are we talking 1970s Harryhausen?

Spark: Have you ever seen those packs of tiny -- like 75mL -- beer cans they sell in Japan? Who are those marketed towards? The easiest answer would be children, but I don't think even the Japanese are weird enough to do that. I guess they sell, though, because yesterday, in an imported foods store, I saw a bunch of them, eight per pack. What, someone has a hankering for beer, but only a sip or two worth? I honestly don't get it. Maybe they're bought as a hair-of-le-chien hangover remedy, but if that's the case, those crazy Japanese should just do what I do and buy a whole 350mL can. Or twelve.

Denz: I think-

Fuzon: Not so fast, Ohno. Before you spin a divine yarn, I just have to say that I dig the miniature cans of beer. Originally, I considered them abominations, and fair enough, but then I noticed that they fit neatly into the cup-caddies on the treadmills at my gym. Righteous. A particular Japanese brewery used to -and perhaps still does- market a can of Sapporo that had a resealable cap, designed for a person with a 'busy, on-the-go' lifestyle; and that fits me like a Speedo.

Denz: He's punchy today. The beers are clearly for those little performing monkeys that wear bellhop suits. What are those little guys called again? Either that or Japanese salarymen have worked out that 75ml is all it takes to make a highschool girl open to pers... wait, we're on a proto-feminist kick at the moment, right? Forget everything I said.

Can't you see the marketing genius here? The best part of a beer is the moment one opens the can and takes that first sip. That's pretty much all you can do with this little can. A slice of heaven you can slip into your suit pocket. Pop into the commodes at work during afternoon tea and swallow a 75ml shot of ... *cough* make that consume a microbrew. Genius.

I like the idea of it making you feel like a giant as you cradle the puny human's can of ale in your massive hand.

On the flipside, I had a birthday party in Seoul a few years ago. Some guy, whom I didn't know, came along with some mutual friends. He called me over and presented me with a massive can of beer. The thing had to hold several litres of amber waves of yay. He said it was a gift for letting him attend my party. I was touched. Seriously, one of the best gifts I have ever received and I don't even remember the cat's name.

I don't have a question, but how does that story make you feel?

Spark: As tingly as Chris Webber's knee.

Fuzon: Like emboldened shit, if that makes any sense. On the one hand, I feel invigorated, which is good, but such emotions supplicate that I take a leap of faith from a window at the nearest Super 8 motel. It should've been a win-win situation.


____________
* Intentional. Foul.
** They're the same person, kids. And Santa Claus isn't real. (Neither is female ejaculation...at least I think so. I'll keep conducting research until I know for sure. Look for the results of my study to be published in the New England Journal of Medicine sometime around 2057.)
*** Almost as much as I love Chinese girls with green eyes.

****** I better not get misquoted on that one.

8 comments:

  1. Someone has yet to explain to me what the hell you three are on about and how it went down.

    And I thought organized confusion wasn't meant to be taken literally...

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  2. K-Mart and I took a vacation to Oz, met up with denz, smoked a lot (of Parliaments), drank a king's ransom worth of VB, listened to Bobby Womack 45s...and when we got we got back to the ROK we had ourselves a convo via email.

    B2BR I & II is the result of latter*, crabs of the former (score one for squat toilets, man).

    * Although I never told K-Mart to shut up. I believe I just playfully tickled him.

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  3. The 'shut up' was revisionist kmart history.

    He's so persecuted.

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  4. Senseless.

    Too much basketball. Too much PK fetish. Too much Kimochi Draft. (something else I have no idea what the hell is...)

    I am on strike until Kermo posts and I know there is someone else who won't just write about basketball, boobies and boys night in.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I am now officially on strike until Idealjetsam trims his pubes.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Boo sucks to you K.

    It's summer in the city, I trim them weekly.

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  7. Just curious, who's that attractive girl in your post?

    ReplyDelete