Real Music Thursday: Michael Jackson

Today’s Real Music Thursday is in honor of the late, great, King of Pop Michael Jackson.   He would have been 55 today.  Michael was the very definition of a tortured artist.   He just needed good people around here that weren’t afraid to say no to him or call him out on his foolishness.  No matter his faults, the man is a legend.  There will never, ever be another Michael Jackson.  No one will ever come close to matching his culture impact.  Everyone else is just a pretender to the throne.

Now comes the hard part.  How on Earth does one pick a favorite Michael Jackson song?  It’s difficult because the man’s discography is impressive as all get out.

So I’ll just pick one of his songs that I really love and I will listen to every single time it comes on the radio or my iPod.  It’s Billie Jean from the epic Thriller album.

Now how old were you when you realized that this song was about a woman trying to bring a paternity suit against Michael?

Man remakes R. Kelly’s Bump N’Grind into a gospel song

Most people don’t know that wrongness is much like Dante’s vision of Hell.  There are multiple levels in the descent of wrongness; each level more wrong and messed up than the level above it.

And that brings us to the topic of today’s post.  Apparently there is some type of gospel show called “Atlanta Live.”  On this particular broadcast, one very misguided singer took creativity to 11th level of wrongness.  He remade R. Kelly’s very sexualized song into a song about praising Jesus.  Watch below and try not to drink anything or chant “The power of Christ compels you” while throwing holy water on your screens.   Mocha Pikachu will not sending be sending any money to y’all to fix liquid damaged monitors.

This is all kinds of wrong!!!!  What the hell was he thinking?  Does he have no one in his life that could have told him “You know…I don’t think this is a good idea?”   He needs more people!!  I don’t even go to church and I’m offended.   The music alone sounds hypersexualized.  I don’t care what lyrics you slap over it.

Let’s examination the ramifications of a world where any song, no matter how secular, could become a gospel song.

Will NWA’s “Fuck the Police” become “To hell with the Moneychangers?”  Will Dru Hill’s “I should be your boyfriend” turn into “I should be your savior?”

Even worse, what happens when children hear the real version of these songs after they’ve been signing them in church.  Their young minds are going to be blown.

“He can reform and redeem the Pimp!” I can’t.

Closing Time, Part 1

“Closing Time!  Open all of the doors and let you out into the world…”

Okay, so I’m writing about a different closing time, but at least now, you’ll have this song stuck in your head.

I have received my closing date.  So, I now have less than 2 weeks to pack and move.   Craziness.

While packing is a pain, it shouldn’t be too bad.  I have so much stuff in Container Store organizers, I really only have to worry about packing up odds and ends.

I want to make some minor cosmetic changes to the townhouse, but that can wait.  I need to focus on moving in and getting settled.  I just have to reel in my wish to have everything that I want to be done all at once.

It’s been an interesting summer.   I cut back on everything just to make sure that I would have extra money for any last minute expenses.  Side note: I miss you, Nordstrom!!!!  I turned down concerts, Happy Hours, and cruises and everything else just to make homeownership a reality.  I’ll be glad when everything is finished.

Back to packing.

Real Music Thursday

Today’s Real Music Thursday entry is U2’s Stay (Faraway, So Close).   This is from the 1993 Zooropa album and also Wim Wenders’ movie also called Faraway, So Close; a sequel to the cult classic Wings of Desire. Both movies are about angels watch over humanity.

I didn’t really get into U2 until I was college and even back then, I preferred their older songs much more than the newer ones.

It’s hard to believe that song is 20 years and that it wasn’t much of hit in the US.   I love the imagery of a desolate soul and the angel that must quietly watch over this soul.

Please stop coming for Oprah. She didn’t send for you.

Urban Dictionary defines “Pressed” as

“Obsessed or attuned to a particular thing, idea, or person to an unseemly degree. Always used in the pejorative.

Seems to have originated in the Mid-Atlantic region (probably Southeast D.C.).”

Now that you understand the lingo, let’s get to it.  A few actresses are pressed with a capital P about Oprah.

A few weeks ago,  Rae Dawn Chong dragged her ass out of 1985 to call Oprah “a field nigger.”  Yes, she went there and then had the gall to make it seem like it was a compliment.

And today we have Stacey Dash complaining about Oprah’s take on Trayvon Martin’s death.  Oprah was not the only celebrity or newsperson to speak out on this event.

To quote Heathers, why are y’all pulling Oprah’s dick?  The vitriol directed at Oprah from these women goes way beyond the differences in politics or personality.

Did she personally piss all over your hopes and dreams?  Run over your dog and shoot your pa?  Make y’all join Team Bad Decisions?  I know that I shouldn’t try to rationalize irrational shit but, I need receipts for the animosity!

I hate to see grown women tearing each other down in public to just to get some shine.  It sets a terrible example to young women that you must constantly be cutthroat with other women.  At least I can find solace in the fact that The Great and Powerful Oprah clearly isn’t worried about them and will most likely continue to ignore them until they start to doubt their own existence.

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17 and Baking Bad Cake

17 and Baking Bad.

This is awesome.  A cake based on the series Breaking Bad.  I’m going to make this cake for the series finale. I’ll be using blue sprinkles for decoration rather than blue rocky candy.

Real Music Thursday

I love 80’s music.  Everything was neon, fun, and diverse.  It was before the music executives really started to destroy the industry.

So today’s Real Music Thursday is from Billy Ocean.   His song Caribbean Queen has been my jam since I was a toddler.  I listen to it at least once a week.  However, I’m choosing a different song from the artist because you can still hear Caribbean Queen on almost any Top 40 or R&B station.  It’s called Suddenly and it’s beautiful.

I picked a live version.

 

 

America, the Cubicle Farm, and the Introvert

This post is dedicated to Davina and all the introverts sitting in the cubicle farms explaining for the 50-11th time that “nothing is wrong.”

You know, as Americans spend an ever increasing time at the office, the boundary between the professional and the personal gets harder to maintain.

I’m content to go into the office, do my job, and go home. If I happen to become friends with some of the colleagues while there, then great. If not, I’m content with just being colleagues. I hear this same reasoning from a lot of introverts.

Deep down, I think that most people sort of get this about introverts. Now people will still ask us “what’s wrong?” or “why are you so quiet?” but there’s no malice or nitpicking behind it. American culture just values extroversion, so we introverts are seen in a curious light.

However, the bane of the common introvert’s existence in the cubicle farm is Overly familiar Fred or Habitual line-stepper Harriet (Guys can be a Harriet and Gals can be a Fred). Fred and Harriet get their “lives” so to speak at work. They try to take liberties with you because they foolishly mistake your silence for weakness.

If you don’t have a Fred or a Harriet at your office, you are truly blessed. For Fred and Harriet could test the patience of Job.

Fred is the pushy office busy-body that wants to know what everyone is doing and be everyone’s bud. How does Fred annoy the common introvert? Fred will come to your desk to discuss with you the exact time that you arrived, how many times that you went to restroom at work, what time you went to lunch, and the internet news article that you read at your desk during lunch. Do you know why? Because Fred is concerned about you, dammit! You don’t interact with Fred unless it is work related and you try your damnedest to keep the chit-chat to a minimum. Something has to be wrong with you. Come hell or high water, Fred is going to try to make you get on his level of friendliness. Fred is not necessarily a mean guy, but because he is so pushy and tries to be all in your business, you end up viewing him as an energy vampire.

Harriet is just an asshole. A tragic asshole, but still an asshole. There ain’t a nice way to put that. Unlike Fred, who annoys with you the mundane, Harriet just crosses the line of what is normal office behavior. In fact, Harriet stomps the hell out of the line and then salts the earth under the line. Chick is crazy, yo. Harriet takes the common introvert’s general silence and cordial distance as a personal damn insult. Harriet is at work to primarily socialize and feed some emotional need that she is not getting at home. If Fred is an energy vampire, then Harriet is a supermassive black hole. If she feels unloved at home, then she needs you to be her loving friend. If she feels powerless, then she tries to exercise undue power over you.

And by the way, Harriet does not tell you that you’ve been assigned to fulfill this need. You will just gradually notice that Harriet has no sense of propriety when it comes to your boundaries. Harriet is the type of colleague that will piss fire if you go to lunch without her. Harriet will get rude with you and talk out the side of her damn neck when you have to explain/remind her that she is not your supervisor. The common introvert may have to expend a lot of energy dealing with this foolish individual. See once it’s been explained to Harriet through deeds and/or words that we are just here to work, she can become hostile or an emotional land mine because we’re messing with her grand plan by not being her pawn.

For me, I’m generally cordial to the Fred’s and I try not to let my annoyance show, but I still continue on as my normal self. Deal with it.

I avoid the Harriet’s like the plague. People that cannot keep their emotions in check in a business setting are dangerous to me and I don’t have time for that.

I crashed

There’s just been so much craziness going on with looking for a house.  I found a house.  The lender approved my loan and then it turns out the seller and her listing agent were unreasonable and shady as hell.  They would keep sending over unsigned paperwork for the addenda that were agreed upon in the contract.  When the listing agent wasn’t ignoring my agent, he was cursing and screaming at him over the phone.

So I told my realtor to get a release from the contract.  I’m just out of the money that I spent on an inspection and an appraisal.  He was actually surprised that I responded with little emotion because according to him, people tend to get overly emotional and attached to their potential first home.

I did the most logical thing that I could which was to tell that listing agent to take that house and shove it.  Of course, that move put me right back at square one within a housing market that’s becoming astonishingly more cutthroat by the day.

I looked at about 6 or 7 more houses and I finally put a bid on it this past Wednesday.  There were already 2 other offers on the house.  Two days pass by and still no word.  Finally, as I’m leaving work on Friday, I hear the good news that my offer was accepted.  I believe that my agent really hit upon the facts that my earnest money deposit was already in hand and that I had a lender ready to go.

On Saturday, my body just crashed.  I slept most of the day.  That knot in my neck went away and my shoulders lost that tenseness that they had acquired over the past 2 weeks.

Dealing with idiots definitely takes a toll on me, but really all of this uncertainty with finding a place reminded me of all of the constant moving or living with relatives that I had to endure as a child.  I attended 5 elementary schools and 2 middle schools.  Plus after we finally settled, my mother was always quick to say “this is my house.”  My aunt was the same way when I lived with her after college.

To this very day, I do not refer as going to my mother’s house as “going home.”

I am very much looking forward to the day when I can finally say that some place is “my home.”

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