Will Smith Vs Chris Rock: The Slap Heard Round The World.

 

Comedian Chris Rock Gets Bitch Slapped By An Angry Will Smith On Live Television. 

 

Yes, one and all, we're living in what I call The Era of  Media Sensationalism. It's ugly, pervasive and we as a society love it. Take for example the drama that happened at the 2022 Academy Award Ceremony. That's where Will Smith took umbrage at Chris Rocks joke at his wife Jada Pinkett Smith expense. Rock looked at her and remarked " Jada, I Love you. G.I Jane 2,can't wait to see it. Smith strode up to Rock and bitch slapped him. 

Isn't it strange that when Rock first made the joke, Smith was sitting there smiling. But when he saw his wife's disapproving scowl, that's when he went into action. And while many viewers reacted with shock, horror and disapproval, let's be real: how many of these indignant, self righteous people would have reacted with equal parts shock and titillation if Rock had fought back. Imagine if you will, Rock and Smith engaging in a fist fight on the stage, the security guards frantically running over to break up the fracas. A lot of folks would have stared transfixed to their television sets drooling over the drama that played out before them.

Shock, yes. Scowling with their arms folded in disapproval, most definitely. But at the same time, they would been licking their lips with salacious glee. You see: we are a voyeuristic society. We are the reason shows such as The Jerry Springer Show (which ended in 2018) or Maury Povich (who has also recently turned in his microphone) both thrived. We want to see human misery presented before us so that we can feel better about the trials and tribulations concerning our own lives. It is a Bread and Circuses aspect of out culture that has become most distasteful.

Naturally, this tasty little news item has been front and center for six days. Will Smith apologizes to Chris Rock, Will Smith apologized to The Academy, other celebrities weight in with either approval or horror at the conflict, the Academy mulls over what discipline should be meted out to Smith for his egregious behavior, ect,ect,ect-ad nauseum. 

In the meantime, gas prices are shooting up through the roof, inflation is on the rise, Russia is invading the Ukraine and what current event has people up in a lather? Will Smith slapping Chris Rock over a joke Rock made about his wife. Now, it's my understanding that The Academy approves any jokes that are made during the broadcast in advance. As for the joke, as far as I'm concerned it was not offensive at all. And Rock probably didn't know that Jada Pinkett Smith suffered from Alopecia, the reason she wore her hair so short.   

While this incident was news worthy for a day or two, is it worthy for almost a week of constant scrutiny by all the new networks, tabloids and You Tube video's? No. No and no. Right now as a country, we have far more pressing matters at hand than Will Smith taking offence at a Chris Rocks joke about his wife and slapping him on national Television. As for myself, I have better, more important things in my life to think about. And so do you.

The Animal Crackers Box Gets A Makeover Courtesy Of PETA.

When I attended Catholic Parochial School as a wee lad, our class would  perform our annual Christmas Show for Monsignor Sweeny. While us kids sang and danced our little hearts out, the good Monsignor,being a rather elderly man, would promptly fall asleep. Instead of being offended, I and my my fellow classmates felt that because he was so old, the poor fellow really needed a nap. I mean, it wasn't like he was an important Broadway producer bored into a state of narcolepsy by dreadful, amateur performers. Now that would have been ego crushing. Especially to a group of  impressionable eleven year old kids.

Afterwards, when he awoke, Monsignor Sweeny always gave each of us a box of Animal Crackers. I would take my bountiful box of animal shaped treats home with me after school to enjoy along with a cold glass of milk. The artwork on the box conjured memories of going to the circus and seeing the various animals presented to the public. The sights of exotic animals, the smell of hay. Ah, childhood memories!

But now, PETA, those self appointed,self anointed Guardians of The Animal Kingdom , have seen fit to tear away at my childhood memories. They complained ,en mass, to Nabisco that they were offended by the art cover on the box of animals in cages and demanded,( that's right, demanded) the cookie company change the picture on the box to animals roaming free in the wild.

Say what? You mean to tell me that with all of the problems going on in the world at the moment, PETA, that band of intolerant animal huggers, people who surely must have other more important things to do with their time, got themselves all amped up by a drawing depicting animals in cages to the point where they beefed, bitched and vehemently protested that Nabisco change the offending art cover? The worst part is that Nabisco caved in and acquiesced to this band of Bozo's over the top, ridiculous demands.

I've never been a fan of PETA. It's bad enough the rest of us have to listen to these self-righteous whack jobs tell us not to eat animals and not to wear fur made from animals. It's equally aggravating when I read where several of their members protested a group of fishermen by throwing rocks in the water to scare away the fish.  You see, I don't like to be told what to do. By anyone! PETA's in-your-face, bullying tactics have no affect on me or my life. They should live their lives as they please and leave the rest of us the hell alone.

You wanna be a Vegan, knock yourself out. You wanna wear clothes made out of polyester and other man made materials, that's okay by me. You wanna feel some sort of self-validation by making the world safe for the animals, then party hearty.  Me? I'll continue eating steak, fish and chicken. I'll proudly wear my leather coat and my fur fedora hat. And if that smug bullying group of animal huggers has a problem with that, they can fold it three ways and stick it where the sun don't shine.

I used to have a Facebook friend named Bobbi Jo  who is a staunch animal rights activist. She is a proud, card carrying Vegan and belongs to several animal rights groups. I made  joke one time about having meat for dinner. Mind you, it was a joke. Instead of letting me know that I had offended her, Bobbi Jo abruptly unfriended me. If she had, like a real friend, said my remark had offended her, I would have immediately apologized. This is called " Having a dialog". I consider her to be cowardly and I don't like or respect cowards.

To be honest, I was under the impression the this woman loved animals a hell of a lot more than she did people. Once on her time line, Bobbi Jo stated that anybody who made what she considered an anti-animal remark would be immediately unfriended. To paraphrase her remark," Animals are our future." Um, okay Bobbi Jo. So much for tolerance.

During the time  when we were getting along like two peas in a pod, Bobbi Jo  once confided in me that she and her husband were separated and possibly headed for divorce court. Why she chose to divulge such personal information to me was a mystery. In any event, with an attitude like hers, no wonder her marriage was in the shitter. No spouse,or human being for that matter, wants to take a back seat. Especially to a member of the animal kingdom.

Get Out And Vote Tomorrow! Your Country Needs You!

Although I'm currently working on an interview with the people behind the film Celluloid Bloodbath: More Prevues from Hell, I've decided to take a breather from the world of film and fantasy to talk about something I feel very passionate about: The Electoral Process. Now, I don't care whether you vote Democrat or Republican,although I feel the Republican Party is where the smart money is, I just want you to get off your hind rump quarter(commonly known as your ass)and drag yourself kicking and screaming, if need be, to your local voting booth to vote for the person you think will best represent our country.

Now I, can almost hear a cacophony of lazy whiners out there saying," But my vote doesn't count ."  Yes it does! Your vote is your voice. Use it! Otherwise, don't cry, bitch and moan after the election when you're paying higher taxes, watching the jobless rate soar to disturbing new highs and seeing the value of your dollar diminish when you go to the store to purchase food or goods. You didn't bother to vote, so keep your pie hole shut! You didn't earn the right to complain.

If you want a say in how this country is run, then take a few minutes from your otherwise precious day, go to your local polling place and cast your ballot. It's quick ,easy and painless. Much less painless than getting hit in the head with a bowling ball and you've let the people in the Government know where you stand on important issues.  But if you'd rather sit in front of the boob tube and drool over mindless talk and entertainment TV shows, then maybe it's best if you don't go out to vote. You probably wouldn't make an intelligent choice anyway.

It's your country. It's your future. Vote on Tuesday!

Sex Offender Faces Possible Lethal Injection.....Here's Hoping.

Hey people, check out the loser on the left. He's John Couey and this specimen of dogshit kidnapped, raped, then coldbloodedly murdered nine year old Jessica Lunsford in 2005. Couey entered the Lunsfords home through an unlocked door,abducted Jessica and took her to the trailer where he lived(ironically located literally meters away from the Lunsford home). After sexually molesting the girl,Couey stuffed Jessica body into two plastic garbage bags where she died from asphyxiation.

What boggles the mind is that fact that Couey, a convicted sex offender,slipped under the radar by not bothering to inform the authorities in the Florida town of Homosassa that he had moved into the area. According to his record, Couey was accused in 1978 of grabbing a girl in her bedroom, placing his hand over her mouth and kissing her. In 1991,this pervert was arrested on a charge of fondling a child. Sounds like an upstanding pillar of the community,huh?

Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but if I ever found out that this kind of morally bankrupt slime bag was infesting my neighborhood; I'd welcome the deviate by whapping him upside his sick, twisted head with a wooden baseball bat. It might not do him a whole hell of a lot of good, but I'd enjoy it immensely.

Circuit Judge Richard Howard will be the one who ultimately decides whether Couey gets a life sentence(also known as three hots and a cot for life) or the death penalty. With sentencing to begin next Tuesday, Couey's lawyer had a psychologist testify that he suffers from mental illness and metal retardation. Oh com'on now, you mean his lawyer couldn't come up with a more original defense than that? Why not play sentimental violin music as he attempts to muster up sympathy for his degenerate client?

Maybe the jury will be predominately comprised of the kind of people I refer to as the boo hoo hoo for the criminal crowd. Not only will they make sure that Crazy Couey will be comfortably ensconced in a cell for the remainder of his worthless life, they'll probably insist one of the guards put a mint on his pillow every morning. We can always hope the jury shows him the very same brand of mercy he showed his victim instead.

Couey, probably acting on his lawyer advice, is playing the part of the mentally unbalanced murderer to the hilt; he sways slightly in his chair while staring with a crazed expression for the benefit of the jury and the media. Hey Couey, you're not fooling anyone! This is your big moment to make the jury (whom you hope are criminally gullible) feel pity for you so that they'll hand you a life sentence, thus sparing your perverted ass death by lethal injection. Lethal injection? This piss poor excuse for a human being should be shoved up against a wall and without the benefit of a blindfold put to death by a firing squad. When an animal begins to attack humans, it's put to death. Well, Couey is no better than an animal and ought to be treated in much the the same fashion.

However, a positive accomplishment has come from this terrible tragedy : Jessica's father, Mark Lunsford, became an activist who lobbied for tougher laws which will monitor sex offenders more carefully. His efforts came to fruition when Florida lawmakers enacted "Jessica's Law mandating longer prison sentences and lifetime tracking via global positioning devices for sexual predators convicted of molesting children under age 12. This landmark ruling is the reason other states are introducing tougher legislation on sex offenders. Enacting such laws will certainly make it harder for child predators like Couey to corrupt and possibly end the lives of their potential victims.

My Thoughts on The Abortion Issue.

Abortion. Now, there's a hot button topic to bring up if ever there was one. When I told a friend of mine that I would be writing about this controversial subject on my blog, he gave me a thoughtful glance and said," Joe, you're going to open up a big can of worms on this one. I can tell you that right now". But this is one subject I' ve been mulling over for quite some time and I feel now is the time to speak my piece. And I fully realize I won't be the darling of either the conservatives or the religious right. But I could give two hoots in hell.

Here's the deal: I don't think the church or the state has any right what so ever to dictate to a women what she should do when it comes to her body. You see it all the time, tv news footage of protesters throwing themselves in the way of women as they attempt to enter abortion clinics. As far as they're concerned, the pregnant women has to carry the child to term and then has to give birth. If the anti-abortionists can manage to sway any women from the idea of ending her pregnancy, they've won a moral victory in their tiny, little minds.

However, they won't be the ones to suffer from morning sickness, they won't see the stretch marks on their bodies, suffer through nine months of pregnancy(something I 'd love to see a man go through) and then finally give birth. This particular phase of the child bearing experience can last for many agonizing hours. So after all is said and done, the only chore the right to life group has is to smile in smug, self righteous satisfaction. Their job is done. However, for the women who just delivered her new born baby; her job is just beginning.

Now,I'm not pro abortion. I'm not advocating that all women go out and murder their unborn children. What I'am saying is, if a women gets pregnant and for whatever her motives are, doesn't wish to carry the fetus to full term, the decision is hers . It's not for the state decide and it's surely not the church. I have to tell you, it really rankles me to no end when conservative Christian right to life groups feel the women owes it to them to have the baby that is inside of her body in order to give them that warm and fuzzy feeling they get whenever someone falls in line with their way of thinking. The way I see it, if the women can square it with her conscience and feel perfectly justified in getting the abortion, it's her call; no one else's. No matter what you or I think is right.

Yet,there are legitimate reasons for aborting a pregnancy. My mother had been stricken with a paralyzing stroke in the mid 1960's. A year later, she became pregnant. Mother was told by her doctor that as a result of the stroke she had suffered, her body was still recuperating. The prognosis was if she gave birth to her baby, she would die. My mother had to make an extremely difficult decision, abort her unborn baby or face her own mortality. This is not a choice that can be easily made. Her dilemma was made even more difficult by a well meaning, but idiotic priest who told my mother she should have the child and die so that she would go to heaven. Stupid jerk! You call that a choice? She wanted the child to live, yet she didn't want to die either. My mother was between a rock and a hard place, that was for sure.

Let's add into the mix the sad fact that no one, and I mean not one person from either side of my miserable excuse for a family came to our aid during this time of crisis. If my mother had died giving birth, my dad would have had three children to take care of without anyone's assistance. The fact that chafes me the most is, those same relatives who were conspicuous by their absence were more than happy to come around and visit us the very minute my mothers health improved. In the end, she chose to abort the baby, although it was a choice that caused her many bouts of grief and guilt for many years to come.

On the other side of the coin, there happen to be equally frivolous and capricious justifications for ending a pregnancy too. In 1986 I was the manager of a GNC store located in Wilmington. It was there I had the misfortune of meeting Gina and Lori, two of the nastiest people it's been my displeasure to ever make the acquaintance of. Especially Gina, who was an abrasive, in your face individual. Lori's function appeared to be as her sidekick. Many was the time I was thankful when they left my store to go torment somebody else. I needed their particular brand of horseshit like I needed a sack of rusty door knobs.

One Friday as I was closing up the store to go home, the terrible twosome came in to tell me that Gina was pregnant and that her deadbeat boyfriend was currently serving five years in jail for armed robbery (He was a real catch, eh?) and that she would be getting an abortion on Sunday at the local abortion clinic. I didn't want to know any more. I really didn't. However, my curiosity got the better of me. So I inquired as to the reason for getting rid of her unborn child. Gina's response was that a baby was too much of a responsibility and would put a crimp in her social life.

Now, I should've known better, but again, I broached the question of what would her boyfriend think? After all, he was the baby's father. Gina contemptuously replied that he was a first class loser and she didn't give a shit what he thought anyway( is that love or what?).

Anyway, that Monday morning when Gina and Lori came barreling into my store the first words out of Gina's uncouth mouth were," Well, I finally got that piano off my back!" If you're shocked upon reading her ghastly, ugly comment, you can well imagine my reaction not only hearing the words but seeing an expression on her face of someone who just didn't care. This was followed by a series of tasteless and horribly unfunny jokes about abortion which thankfully I've permanently blocked from my memory. All I remember is wishing the two of them would just go away and never darken my store again. That someone could actually equate a human life with an inanimate musical instrument was something that I clearly found incomprehensible to my way of thinking. But again, this was Gina's choice to make. Not mine. And certainly not yours.

At the end of the day, when the votes are tallied up, a women's body belongs to her. Let her make whatever choice she sees fit to decide upon. Let her also live with the long range consequences as well. Whether we agree with her decision or not should never even enter into the equation.