To Be Or Not To Blog?

This is an opportunity for me to take a short victory lap (because I hate to run) over a personal accomplishment for The Domino Theory.

Based in no small part from the higher profile given to my blog post review of Fruitvale Station being featured on the Word Press Freshly Pressed page, I rocketed to 500 “follows” in three months.    What really blows my mind is I’ve been grinding away at this blog since 2008 and I didn’t get to 100 Follows until June of this year.

What’s really been a surprise is it hasn’t stopped.   At the rate the follows have been coming I may hit 600 before Thanksgiving and that is something to be thankful for.

Fame, if not necessarily fortune at long last!   Yay! You like me! You really like me!

Trophy Case

But seriously, folks.   I can’t individually thank every one who has subscribed to my blog.   I am truly touched by the vote of confidence because everyone I know who does this has those moments where they get that sneaking sensation they are only talking to themselves.    Well, if I am I hope the conversation is at least interesting.

I’m not exactly sure where I’m going to go next with this blogging thing.    While I’m very good at saying precisely what I think about Ted Cruz,  Kanye and Kim or bad jazz, I would really like to transition to more serious, less frivolous, subjects.    I think of myself as a  good interviewer (though I hate transcribing interviews) and next year I’m going to get back to doing more of them.   If I want to raise the profile of The Domino Theory one way to do it is by talking with people I want to know more about  because nobody else seems to be talking to them for me.

Journalism as I know it is in a state of flux.   Anyone who tells you they know what happens next is lying to you and themselves.   What is known is the readership that faithfully followed newspapers, magazines and print is gone and they aren’t coming back.   They are accessing information and entertainment on handheld devices, on their phones, and via other means that doesn’t depend on dead trees to get the point across.

Even the best blogs can’t come close to what the Washington Post, TIME or Newsweek did when they were required reading.   Blogging is not the first draft of history.    It’s the immediate reaction to history as its made.   I know for a fact a lot of trained journalists absolutely despise bloggers and it doesn’t matter how polished or professional the prose and the presentation is.   They will never consider it a legit option to classic print, radio and television news media.

I don’t either.  Not yet anyway.  I’m not a blogger trying to create journalism.   I’m a journalist who blogs and this is still very much a work in progress, but I’m still excited by the possibilities.   If you gave me a million dollars and told me, “Go make some journalism” I wouldn’t start a newspaper.   I’d create a blog.

Since I have one already maybe the best bet is to keep trying to make it better and if it becomes something more like journalism and something less like blogging, that’s not a bad thing.   This is as much an experiment as it an experience.

Thanks again for your support.  Going forward I hope to give you even better reasons to continue doing so.

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Shut Up, Fool! The Miley Effing Cyrus Edition

Next stop: IMPLANTS!

I don’t know what shocks me more. That nearly everyone I know is talking about Miley Fucking Cyrus or that someone had the balls to ask me where was my blog post about Miley Fucking Cyrus.

Never let it be said I ignore my public.   Usually I do, but this is me making an exception.

We are truly in the dog-shit days of summer.

Personally, I don’t agree there was anything racist in Cyrus’ (ha-ha) “performance.” It was just an aged-out teen looking for a way to shock and awe the folks at home who have never ever never seen a young woman shake her naughty bits in such a lewd and lascivious fashion and probably fainted dead away at the sight of sweet and innocent Hannah Montana’s FLAT ASS all up in their face.

Racist? No. Nauseating? Definitely. Great publicity? Certainly.

Twerking is just a dumb way of dirty dancing. Go to a strip club and you’ll find strippers that have shaken their hind parts for years before Miley Fucking Cyrus learned about this mysterious Negro dance style. If being prim and demure were all it took to get over, Cyrus would do that. She tried that so now she’s sticking her tongue out, wiggling her non-butt, and desperately trying to hide her total absence of musical talent beyond Disney tunes.

Nobody has walked up to Miley Fucking Cyrus and told her she can’t dance that way. But somebody should because she looks like a hot-ass mess.

“We Can’t Stop?” TRY.

I long for the good ol’ days when old Madonna sticking her tongue down Brittney Spears‘ throat was considered outrageous.

Wait. No I don’t.

One looks good with butter and syrup on it. The other does not.

What’s lame is biting off a culture you don’t know shit about and then going on a video music award show on a channel that barely shows video music worthy of awarding and showing the entire world just how little talent you actually have.

Not to make this a racial thing (though it is), but from Negro spirituals to the blues to jazz to rock n’ roll to soul music to rap to hip-hop, Whites have always imitated, adapted or flat-out stolen from Black artists. Pat Boone is one of the most egregious offenders and few dispute his cultural thievery, but throw in Elvis, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Michael Bolton, Vanilla Ice among other musical thieves, and don’t stop until you get Miley Cyrus “twerking” her non-existent ass.

As long as there’s been American music and a Negro making it, there’s been a White person who’s figured out how to cash in on it. As Col. Tom Parker, Elvis’ manager observed, “If I could find a white man who had the Negro sound and the Negro feel, I could make a billion dollars.”

CHA-CHING!

But I’m gonna ease up off Miley Fucking Cyrus. She can’t sing. She can’t dance. She sure can’t twerk. About all she does do well is stick her tongue out. Ooooh. Lookit at me! I’m nasty! Don’t you think I’m nasty? Nasty girls stick their tongue out. Lookit! I’m doing it again! I am such a nasty girl. I’m not Hannah. I’m Miley and I’m NAAAASSSSSSSTY!

One rarely witnesses such a public act of self-humiliation. Poor thing. She needs to come back when she hits puberty because looking at what she calls a “body” and that poor girl got cheated.

We should cut Cyrus some slack for her overt lack of rhythm. And soul. And talent. But that thing with the tongue is working my last good nerve and if she keeps sticking it out somebody is going…well…somebody is gonna DO something to her and that dirty, nasty, bad, filth-flarn-filthy mouth of hers!

What I’m dreading is I know in a week or so, there’s gonna be a new exercise infomercial airing at 3:00 in the morning where some washed-up Z-list, “celebrity” will breathlessly claim to have lost 20 lbs not through sit-ups or diets, but by twerking!

“Hi! I’m Gary Busey, star of stage, screen, television and the L.A.P.D. drunk tank, and I lost 30 lbs of ugly fat by twerking! The hell with Zoomba. Let’s TWERK!”

At that point I will gouge out my eyes with a rusty spoon. I will be blind and it will all be Miley Fucking Cyrus’ fault.

By the way, don’t waste your time complaining to me, “Hey, you’re being sexist because you’re talking about her butt!”  Hey, I’m not the one who went out in public dressed like an undernourished hooker with two sore left feet.  Blame her, not me.  I didn’t dress her and apparently nobody else did either.

Hundreds died when Miley Twerked.