Tyra does blackface. Awesome.

Here’s a letter I sent to the CW:

To the executive producers of ANTM:

I must admit I have always been somewhat conflicted about Tyra Banks’ presence on network television. On one hand, Tyra strikes me as a candid individual with a unique willingness to share her both her personal triumphs and vulnerabilities with her adoring audience. However, I have at times found her subject matter and approach to be downright distasteful. In one of the earlier seasons of the Tyra Banks show, she actually had a doctor “prove” that her breasts were real, and on another she dressed in a fat suit and proclaimed to understand the disrespect that obese people face in everyday life. The former was a bit silly and narcissistic. The latter was offensive. No relatively small person one could understand the indignities that face large women face by pretending to be fat for a day, b/c said small person would be secure that at the end of the day she could return to her normal-sized self. The notion that a woman who quite literally got rich off of her stunning beauty and statuesque figure could condescend to understand the plight of fat people is ludicrous.

Still, I have found some guilty pleasure in America’s Next Top Model, and I figured by avoiding daytime television I would disabuse myself of public mammograms and skinny ladies in fat suits. Alas, I was incorrect. Just moments ago I experienced roughly 45 minutes of fresh Tyra offensiveness during her episode about “hapas.” First of all, the entire approach to the hapa photo shoot relied on an incorrect definition of the word. A simple Google search of the word would demonstrate that hapa refers to a person of mixed Asian/ Pacific Islander descent. Ergo, a person of Russian and Moroccan descent is not a hapa! But linguistic discipline is not your business and isn’t event the offensive part. Perhaps while you are Googling hapa, you might Google “blackface,” which is what I saw on the show. No, there were no Sambos (look it up) or waxy red lips, but there is something unsettling about watching an African-American woman judge a photo shoot of Caucasian women painted in dark pigment. Furthermore, the direction relied on baseless stereotypes and generalizations of the nationalities that these women allegedly represented. At one point, Jay (the bitchy one with the platinum hair, not the fabulous Ms. Jay), went so far as to say, “I really think you embodied these two cultures well.” Excuse me? Putting on “traditional” apparel of two disparate cultures and painting oneself brown does not embody any kind of culture; it mocks and demeans both. I was just waiting for someone to say, “get more tribal,” or “Go native.” Luckily it didn’t get that far or such comments were edited out.

Now, I am not one of those PC-loving bleeding heart liberals who gets mad at every loosely offensive word or gesture. But when you are desecrating a cultural expression in order to bolster sagging ratings, just own it! Don’t pretend it’s some kind of enlightening cultural experience.

If you have read this far might I suggest some further reading: Edward Said’s “Orientalism.” Now I know you all have actual jobs, so maybe just have one of your skinny assistants get the Clif Notes.

Sincerely,
John
Minneapolis, MN

P.S. Tyra, you’re still fabulous, but sometimes you just go too far. Loosen up that weave.

Great Blog Alert: Look at this fucking hipster

a hipster picnic

I have my friend Nick to thank for introducing me to my latest internet obsession, the blog “Look at this Fucking Hipster.”  Are you routinely horrified by the sight of  emaciated, unemployed black-haired boys with mullets and mustaches?  Then this site is for you.

Don’t get me wrong, the sight of hipsters is usually a respite from the monotonous sea of grey slacks and blue shirts that are the unspoken dress code of men in corporate America.  However, there are also times when I look at these kids in their tight ass jeans an fake vintage shirts and wonder, “are eating disorders back in?”  But hipsterdom is about more than riding the L train in your really awesome plastic-framed glasses (even though you have 20/20 vision).  Apparently foresaking one’s upper middle-class values and sense of fashion is the new rebellion.  Foresaking one’s upper middle-class wealth and privilege, on the other hand, would be going too far.  American Apparel ain’t cheap afterall.  Or as the caption to one of the April 16th post puts it, “it’s really hard to be a pimp when all your bitches have trust funds.”

The end of the Swiss bank account?

Well, no.  But as part of a lawsuit UBS has agreed to divulge the names of suspected tax evaders.  Is there no honor among thieves?  That’s a real disappointment.  I always had visions of one day slipping off to Zermatt after making a deposit with my private banker in Zurich.  I would not willfully defraud the government, per se, but I’m a little disappointed that the option is no longer there.  I supposed the Swiss still have the Alps, chocolate, watches, and a faint chance of the large hedron collider actually working, but I imagine there will be fewer  Maseratis crusing around Lake Geneva this summer.  Oh well, I guess there’s always Antigua.

Tyra learns a new phrase, “Gay for Pay”

This is old news, but let’s face it- of the perhaps 13 people who read this blog on any given week, 0 of them have the either the time or lack of brain activity to sit through an episode of The Tyra Banks Show. So chances are, you haven’t seen this

I really don’t want to be a hater. I really want to love Tyra Banks. She’s beautiful black woman (so like an old Michigan admissions officer I give her 10 points off the bat), and she’s managed to survive the decline of the fashion model era of the 90s. Compare her to say, Naomi Campbell who achievements after the height of her career include beating the help. (I love you too, Naomi, but keep your hands to your self.) I digress. Tyra has the fundamentals, but her show takes on issues that extend beyond her complexity as a hostess. That, and she’s always taking up valuable air time to layer on some peripherally relevant personal experience. We love you; we love America’s Next Top Model (the first two seasons, at least) We think you’re beautiful. But let’s face it, you’re not that interesting. And neither is some story about a random straight bartender hitting on you in a gay bar. Again, I digress. Like Tyra’s take on quasi-social issues, this blog suffers from a serious lack of focus.

You can pretty much find the whole episode in pieces on YouTube, but this gist of it is that Tyra basically asks the same questions over and over again, while her bemused audience oohs, ahhs, noos, and claps at all the right moments.  The whole thing was quite homophobic on many levels- but subtle all the same.  First there’s the audience full of catty single women who are visibly disgusted by the thought of seemingly straight men getting it on for a couple thousand bucks a pop on camera.  Then there are the guest themselves, some of which includes bartenders who bragged about how leading gay men on led to good tips.  Then finally, the only actual gay on the show, Sean Kennedy, admonishes the entire porn industry because it’s completely and utterly destructive and causes meth use.  Really? I believe lack of self-esteem or  direction might lead to drug use, not porn.  All the while, Tyra is clueless.  Like most occasions when I dare to watch daytime television (or catch it on the internet), I was left thinking, what is the point of all this? The show’s only success is in making a mockery of straight men who bugger each other for pay, the gay men who get off to it, and the silly girls in the audience who are dumbfounded by the whole thing.  At least I got a good quote from out of the show.  From the one allegedly heterosexual man in the entire audience, “No.  I don’t do nothin’ strange for a piece of change.”  In this economy, you may want to reconsider.

$500K/yr? Might as well be welfare

PRIVATE school: $32,000 a year per student.

Mortgage: $96,000 a year.

Co-op maintenance fee: $96,000 a year.

Nanny: $45,000 a year.

We are already at $269,000, and we haven’t even gotten to taxes yet.

- “You Try To Live in 500K in This Town” by Allen Salkin, NY Times, 2/6/09

If I have learned anything about money, it is this: people have a hard time cutting back. In fact, the few times that I have really tried to cut back spending (such as right now, since 2009 is the official year of thrift), it has mostly resulted in an exercise of delaying inevitable purchases or trading of wants. For example, I might not go out to eat for several weeks, only to drop a few hundred bucks at a Barney’s shoes sale while home for the holidays. To console my consumerist heart I fall back on some words of wisdom I received from a co-worker, “JSR, like my mother said- it’s a lot easier to make more money than spend less.”

Clearly those same banking executives also took heed of such advice, but now find themselves in a situation where making more money is not an option if their employers have taken advantage of TARP funds from Bailout Package Round I. Luckily, they’ve found a sympathetic ear in the NY Times writing staff. And really, we should have sympathy. It’s tough keeping 2 kids in private school, a $1.5MM home in Manhattan, a $4MM one in Southhampton, a driver, and a nanny.

Midway through the article, the journalist juxtaposes the seemingly obviously solution with the harsh realities of life in the upper echelon on New York society. 

“Sure, the solution may seem simple: move to Brooklyn or Hoboken, put the children in public schools and buy a MetroCard…”  Actually, let’s just stop right there.  That is the solution, and it’s pretty simple.  When making more money is no longer an option, one has no choice but to scale back.  Don’t worry, your children, your out-of-work nanny, and Harry Winston will understand.

Brown boxes at desk don’t affirm job security

In these recessionary times one must always be on the look out for signs of the axe- shifty gazes from your co-workers, severely limited project loads etc. As I don’t work for a company that makes its money on exotic financial instruments, construction, real estate or flat screen televisions, I figure my job isn’t high risk. But you never know…

As such, I was pretty damn scared for about 5 seconds when I returned to my desk this afternoon to find a stack of 4 brown boxes leaning against my file cabinet. There was no note, and one could logically construe the message to be, “Here you gou. Pack your shit and please leave your corporate card with the administrative assistant. Security will be here to escort you out shortly.” It turns out that I’m actually just moving cubicles- which is somewhat of an upgrade since my current cube is really a mini cube. Still, I’d rather not see any memos on pink paper or card board boxes until the Dow goes back above 10K, thank you.

Not waiting for the other shoe to drop

I think someone at the secret service is about to lose his/her job. Yet, apparently, Bush is so happy to still be the leader of the free world that he’s all smiles.

“Drill baby, drill” a hole in my head

In the week or so since I’ve last attempted a post, the world has changed… sort of. Barack Obama gave a historic speech on the 40th anniversary of the March on Washington, Sarkozy brokered yet another peace deal with Russia, and a $2,500 515-square foot studio in Manhattan’s financial district is still a big bargain.

I suppose I would be remiss in not commenting on last week’s gathering of what could possibly be whitest group of people since the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Yes, the RNC came to town with lobbyists, hockey mom and pregnant high school senior in tow.  Despite the effective cancellation of Day One, the Republicans came with full force, the highlight of which was obviously the introduction of Governor Sarah Palin.  Senator McCain’s choice reeks od his desperate need to bring news to his campaign, and initially I sort of laughed it off.  I was clearly mistaken.  My assumption that American would see through her role as the ultimate box checker, woman (check), NRA membership (check), mom (check), mom with disabled kid (check), husband in the union (check), MILF (check), has come back to haunt me.  Or rather, haunt my daily quest for real news.

A mere 36 hours after the US government took control over the nation’s top mortgage lenders, what occupies
the top center news slot of NYTimes.com?  The economy? Iraq? Climate Change? Spring 2009 Fashion Week? NO! Instead, it’s a story on the implications of whether or not Senator McCain and Gov. Palin hug.  Are you serious!?!? If we’re going to replace a discussion of the issues with this non-stop coverage of Sarah Palin, let’s at least get the juicy stuff.  In all seriousness, I am troubled by our infatuation with this woman.  It’s as if at the very point were about to begin a real national discussion about something other than Britney Spear’s poor parenting skills, we were interrupted with reports of go-go boots and chants of “Drill baby, drill.”

That’s right, if you want to put your country first, forget about extending the tax shelter for the development of the wind and solar industries, don’t worry about the economy or climate change, just grab a bucket  of freedom fries, sit back and enjoy the spectacle.