How I got my LIFE at LOVE

Sunday, May 29th, blue sunny skies on a Memorial Day holiday weekend. Chillin at DJ Bladerunner's house listening to The Game's CD (which caught me by surprise- the boy is really talented, and the tracks are SICK! I will finally give in and go pick that up), the decision is made to go to the dance music club LOVE (www.musicislove.net). Joaquin 'Joe' Claussell (of the ubiquitous and now defunct Body and Soul parties) is spinning. We get to the place at around 8:30--and the spot is jumping like these kids have been partying all night! There were stunning Chocolate Amazons with chinky eyes and pouty lips; Mark Ronson-type white boys with modelboy bodies, Asian hipsters (there was one chick there affecting a 70s Yoko Ono feel that was FIERCE); Jewish American Princesses who had come to appreciate dance music and had to get a piece of Joe's artistry; Latino chulos in tight tanks which were soaked with sweat; and Body and Soul/Sound Factory/Paradise Garage survivors who will NOT let dance music go silently into the night. Absolutely NO attitude in this melting pot. The ambiance was simple/chic/mod- you walk through the first room which is all black with glow in the dark graffiti painted on them and beanbags on the floor leading you to the second room, also painted black with artfully hung "sheets" in all corners of the club with various still lives projected onto them, and tall lit candles surrounding the top of the space and providing alternate lighting to the INTENSE light show accompanying the INTENSE mixing going on in the DJ booth. All of this, and Joe hasn't even hit the 1's and 2's yet; some chick is on the wheels of steel, and when I tell you that she got me sweating in less than 10 minutes...believe it! I wish I had found out her name or met her. Her set made me realize that I had been missing the REAL party by (of late) ONLY attending these hip hop/reggae(ton)/r&b concoctions that it seems EVERY promoter is doing these days; real SOUL music is still alive and well. By the time she ended her set with Me'Shell NdegeOcello's "I'm Diggin You (Like An Old Soul Record)", I had been taken to the next level, and dance moves I had stored in the closet of my mind had found their way back into my spinal column. Then Joe came on. He played four sets, each with a different texture, each hitting different parts of my body, each taking me on a different journey. I mean, come on, who would think that in this day and time I'd be spinning on the floor while a DJ spins HIS version of Michael McDonald's "What a Fool Believes"? Trust me, his mix would have had you shakin that ass! He worked through two other powerful African tribal sets before taking us on a musical rollercoaster ride with his mix of- of all things- John Legend's "Ordinary People"!!!! How I'll be able to listen to that song again WITHOUT thinking of the things that Joe did to it, I don't know. To top the night off, there was LIVE music as well. 'Speak in Tones' featuring Daniel Moreno and his Cosmic Collective started out with a simple one-two beat which was then accompanied by a tambourine and the perfect mix of other instruments to give us a syncopated potion of...LOVE. After their set, I couldn't take any more; I had to leave, I was on overload. I replayed all of that music in my head on the A train back to Brooklyn; there was no need for the Ipod. I got LIFE at LOVE!!!

"Crash"

I recently saw the Sandra Bullock/Don Cheadle/Terrance Howard/Thandie Newton/Matt Dillon vehicle "Crash". It was, simply, the best movie I've seen this year to date. There was not a single weak link in either the major or supporting actor roles. It would be a mistake to label this just a movie about race; class struggle, ethnic/cultural identity, REAL marriage issues, hypocrisy, rage, white liberalism, living in a "melting pot", and just plain living in any cosmopolitan city are also adeptly handled and juxtaposed in a very SOLID 100 minutes of well-composed celluloid. There are standout performances (the Mexican locksmith- and his backstory- was particularly riveting for me), and its not a "pretty" movie with all clear-cut one-dimensional characters whose whole lives can be summarized by the 3rd minute they appear in the movie. Sandra Bullock turns in a very convincing performance as a "modern" upper-class cosmopolitan wife with very "modern" cosmopolitan principles and demons, while Don Cheadle's police detective with a "family issue" (that I personally have very close ties to) made me quiver. Thandie Newton (who is certified beauty and BRILLIANCE to me) and Terrance Howard (who is really becoming an actor whose movies I would go to see without seeing a single trailer), have a GREAT rapport and rip the script to shreds with powerful performances. Matt Dillon gives the movie more turns and more depth than one character should be able to do in a movie; making it disgusting, gut-punching, sympathetic, and heroic all at once. Ludacris may have a decent acting career in him, and Ryan Phillipe does his thing. Loretta Devine's character was a brilliant commentary on the "black name game" and "black racism". The ending left me reeling and mentally rewinding the entire movie until I figured it out. For me, the movie illustrated how, regardless of how we try to insulate ourselves from each other, we are ALL intertwined one way or another and our paths cross in ways that we aren't even aware of. Peep it!

Why Nicole Richie is a GODDESS and Paris Hilton is an IDIOT!!!

Having watched "The Simple Life" maybe a total of maybe 3 times (watching a piece here and there, changing the channel, watching 3 or 4 minutes the next week, etc.), my initial feelings about the two girls have changed DRAMATICALLY. Here I am, over a year later, with COMPLETELY different opinions of each "woman" than what I had initially. First off, let me just say that I dont KNOW either Nicole or Paris, so my observation(s) may be completely off- these are very "third-person looking from the outside perspective" opinions, but are my opinions nonetheless.

Nicole Richie has grown into this physically LOVELY specimen (no doubt from pushing back from the table--good job Nicole- that jawline is TIGHT and that toussled bob brings you more sophistication than any Dior rag ever could!), while Paris has morphed into this caricature of her public persona---which was a caricature to begin with. Let's start with Nicole. Having dropped (I would guess) anywhere from 10 to 20 pounds, she no longer comes across to me as the slightly pudgy, poor-little-rich-racially-ambiguous (confused?) sidekick to one of the most "photographed" society bitties to come along since Nan Kempner DEFINED that role in her day. Wait a minute, Paris is NOT a socialite (which implies training, schooling, and a certain amount of class and mystique), she is simply- by her own admission-an HEIRESS (which just means she was the right egg in Kathy's ovarian tube at the right time!). I would submit that she isn't an HEIRESS, but an HEIR-HEAD, but lets stay on topic. Nicole has developed a PERSONALITY, an EDGE (due, I'm sure, in part to her rather FIERCE former drug habit and her subsequent triumph over it). She has also developed a LIFE outside of Bungalow 8, becoming engaged to her DJ fiance. I used to think that she was Paris' sidekick, when in actuality, it seems that Paris needed NICOLE to balance her rather DRONE personality and speech pattern. Nicole was the one that made that show only remotely view-worthy, as she was the one that would shake things up. One of the episodes I DID manage to catch was where they were assigned as chambermaids at a motel, cleaning rooms. Of course, no cleaning ever gets done, and they end up ordering ROOM SERVICE to the room that they are assigned to clean. Then, to top things off, Nicole calls down to the front desk to get a maid to come up to the room because the room is dirty! CLASSIC and ENTERTAINING.

You know what's NOT entertaining? Paris' only declarative statement ("that's hot"), which has become as stale as seeing her use one and two syllable words to answer questions on the red carpet. At first, I thought Paris was in on the joke---I thought she knew that her relatively attractive outer frame would speak to the artificial aspects of what people thought she was, and that she was a media-savvy powerhouse that knew to use that to her advantage, a la Madonna (who could disguise our sexual insecurities and primitive societal mores with sarcasm, irony, double entendre and a wink while getting us to open our mouths about things that we never talked about). I even defended her. But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Paris is in no way aware of either the joke or these concepts, and instead believes that that very outer frame is the only thing she can bank on. Well, that and the fact that she has more money than should be legal for a "girl" of her intellectual stature to have. I used to revel in the fact that( I thought) she was giving the proverbial middle finger to those who classified her as just a dumb blonde while pulling in MILLIONS in endorsements, book deals, perfume, clubs, and other public relations opportunities. Until I started looking, REALLY LOOKING, at the behind the scenes-namely, the VH-1 show "Outrageous Hilton Moments". I was sitting in front of my television, thinking "does she REALLY think this is cute?". I mean, anyone who goes out of their way to register voters in Diddy's "Vote Or Die" campaign (while being photographed incessantly in one of those ubiquitous t-shirts), yet ISN'T REGISTERED to vote? AND didn't bother to register? And thus, DIDN"T VOTE? What was more pressing than registering---was there a sample sale somewhere or a bare tabletop in Las Vegas that wasn't beeing danced on? And now there's this Carl's Jr. commercial (here), where la Hilton is "washing" a car clad in high-end bikini and stilettos (looking like the WHORE that people have been calling her all of these years), with tight shots of the car THROUGH THE BACK OF HER LEGS concluding with Paris holding an enormous burger the size of Rhode Island to her face about to chomp down on it. Of course, there's no suspense to the end, because if anyone has seen "the tapes", you KNOW that she has NO problem putting huge slabs of meat in her mouth! And maybe that was the director's double entendre; one which, Paris probably hadn't thought of. But I digress...While I can't wait to see what Nicole has in store for us, I just want Paris to go sit down...and READ a book.

This is what The Re-edit is all about...

Thanks for taking the time to check out The Re-edit. This blog is about ME, basically---MY experiences, MY reactions, MY opinions (or at least what my opinions are at the time I post), MY ranting and raving, MY re-editing of any and everything that I read, see, think, or experience through MY eyes--NOT what may be popular or what some Public Relations machine might want me to see or believe. It is all of those things, RE-EDITED. I'm not always right or politically correct- not always prolific or thought-provoking, but I have a right to MY perspective, to MY feelings. You are welcome to hit me up with YOUR contributions on anything I write about. It may change the way I see things, it may not. I may change the way you see things, I may not. I write on anything from music, art, fashion, events (both personal and public), spirituality, television, magazine/newspaper articles and technology to the meaning of life and anything in between- because these are the things that I am exposed to and/or muse about everyday- this is part of who I am. You are welcome to take this journey with me. I have no idea what this will become, just my way of getting my OWN opinion out into the universe, learn a little bit, force me to keep a "journal" (thanks Oprah), and in the process maybe put yall on to some NEW sh*t. This is real life, re-edited. This is my voice. This is the REAL RE-EDIT. Let's go...