Jennifer Lancaster is Hysterical

When I went home for Christmas a few weeks back, my dear friend Laurie lent me a book by this supreme sarcast (one who is sarcastic—I felt there needed to be a word for that) talking about the perils of being overweight andnarcissistic. Even though she turned her mashed potatoes yellow because of the loads of butter she stirred in there or the fact that being called a “fat bitch” was part of her everyday interaction with people (OK, maybe not everyday), she still felt good about herself and addressed the fact that she's still pretty despite having double chins (her words).

I can feel on that. I mean, being a big girl is the equivalent to be a witch these days. I guess the government decided that tying us by our wrists and ankles and throwing us in the river to see if we float would be moot—of course our big asses would float! Though, of course, that would mean we'd then be grabbed out of the river and back into the village to be burnt at the stake, because, y'know, witches float.

Anyway, long story short, after a regular checkup at the doctor, where she is scolded for not taking her eating habits seriously, Lancaster decided to make that change. She was like, “Allright, allright, DAYUM! I guess I'll lose this motherfucking weight (big fan of the “fucks” and “motherfuckers,” this lady), but I'm still pretty.”

I read that shit in six days! My mama kept noticing me reading it, and she was like, “Wow. Must be a good book.” Indeed.

It's a nice, quick read for a 300-page memoir. Her words really glide right out of her mouth, onto her keyboard and into the pages. I really respect her for that. Not many writers can actually write how they're feeling and convey it beautifully for the readers to get exactly what you're talking about. Even those like us who tend to be a little long-winded. What I love most about her is the fact that she had over 120 footnotes, including one that said, “An actual footnote that's a real footnote!”

I will say, read this book with a complete open mind. There are times where she goes rants about shit that wouldn't be far off what Ann Coulter would say.

Speaking of Ann Coulter—she, too, is hysterical. She has a new book out, and I couldn't help but notice it, since she likes for people to read the BIG RED LETTERS on her cover. Boondocks creator Aaron McGruder did the most hilarious parody of her facade—because that's all it is—by depicting her as a chick milking “redneck money,” but in actuality she's just another white person trying to be “down” and dates a deadbeat black man who she had to bail out of jail 10 times. Oh, that McGruder. I recommend buying the second season The Boondocks. When you take a break from watching a marathon of five episodes, take a break and read Lancaster's book. It'll be a nice contrast.

When did Robyn get so hood?

Remember this chick? No? OK, let's refresh yer memory:


Ain't that some shit? She showed a lil gully-ness with that side slick haircut and shaking her hips a little bit in videos, but now she's all "Fuck you, I'm the baddest bitch" mentality. Like so:


And now she's doing hooks with Snoop Dogg:


Girl, where you come from?

Let's add Persepolis to the "Best of" bunch.

Either I just simply saw more movies this year or 2007 was a fine year for good films, I'm still deciding, but I thoroughly enjoyed Marjane Satrapi's autobiographical graphic novel turn graphic feature length film, Persepolis.

The comic book/graphic novel adaptations have become way too trite for me in the past decade. It's either superheroes or live action films. Satrapi steered away from that element and actually stayed pretty true to the illustrations. Basically, they just became slow-walking illustrated characters, as opposed to being a straight up cartoon.

The political overtone in this film is thick. It focuses on the Iranian government right before the Iranian Revolution and the changes the occurred afterward when Islamic fundamentalists took over with a more tyrannical rule that forced the women to wear conservative clothing and long head coverings to keep men from being aroused, which I find interesting because it seems in order for American women to be considered feminine is to shed more clothing in order to keep men aroused. If anything, this would be a very important film to discuss in a women's studies course.

Anyway, along with the superb job in adapting the graphic novel, as well as having such a dynamic political overtone, is her portrayal of Westernized culture. With this, she has a comical contrast to the film's overall serious nature, like her love for the Bee Gees and punk rock and Iron Maiden and getting inspired by listening to "Eye of the Tiger." She hangs out with the Austrian punks when she is sent away to Vienna and the Austrian hippies when she grows tired of the punks. But despite her fascination with Western culture, she realizes that she is a stranger in both worlds. She felt out of place in Iran because of her fascination of this culture that was forbidden by the government, but her first-hand experiences with caricatures of the culture in Vienne does not add up to the media's depiction of it.

Satrapi was precocious as a kid and she plays out her curiosity throughout her life, which helps her grow as a person. It's always refreshing for me to hear stories of successful people who escapes a corrupt government and then dissect it in a creative way that reaches people on an international level. Well done, sister.

Sidebar: Although Persepolis should be a shoo-in for the Best Animated Feature category, I have already accepted the fact that Ratatouille's gonna win.

When women ruled the music world: Liz Phair and Mary J. Blige

I still cannot hate Liz Phair for turning into a pop princess via "Why Can't I" era. I even called her a sell-out once and meant it. I never use that word, but my disdain for the woman who publicized a whole new breed of women only to become another pawn in the teenybopper frenzy was hard to contain.

Nevertheless, I still have Exile in Guyville in constant rotation and still am enlightened by her philosophies on relationships.

And she did raise a good point last night on VH1's "100 Greatest Songs of the 90s" special by saying how she hated being touted as the Indie Queen and when she moved into the direction of pop, she was in a different stage in her life as a mother. Yeah, I guess it would be uncomfortable to hear a mom talking about wanting to fuck a guy 'til his "dick turns blue" and being his "blowjob queen," or the fact that listening to her lyrics is equally graphic as hardcore porn.

Yeah, Liz, I guess you did have to move into a different direction.

********

Speaking of groundbreaking female artists going in different directions, I was watching Mary J. Blige being interviewed by the twin idiots off of "106th and Park" last night and it seemed like they were talking to their grandmother about the glory days of her youth. She has changed so much! I mean, from the basic black turtleneck, ridiculously high-waisted mom jeans with knee-high boots, it was so weird seeing how extremely calm she has become. Nevertheless, she still grooves like she's ol' homegirl from the Bronx with baseball jerseys and Jodeci boots.

Like most of the kids who claim In Utero was their album growing up, What's the 411? was that, hands down. She just absolutely killed it, and then she killed it some more with My Life and Share My World and...shit, she was everywhere, doing it big, and I was feeling her non-stop. Shit, I still feel her. There's no way in the world I can dislike anything she does, even if it's not solid. But I can't see her doing anything mediocre. Mary J. Blige is wonderful to me.

I'm so glad to see her overcome the drug addictions, abuse (who knew KC Hailey from Jodeci was a bastard?) and grief with the music industry to still be the Queen of R&B and hip-hop.