Another Video of the Week: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

I decided that I wasn't altogether pleased with Tuesday's video this week. And it was because I didn't go with my first instinct. I will therefore present to you a 23 second video that will make all of you laugh. Yes, all of you...

3WW: Sad Old Soul (Avenge, Genuine, Ramble)

I remember everything about that day. The dull, dusty heat lingered like a rabid dog’s bad breath. I threw the dolls from my bed and lay there; the perspiration formed in droplets along my forehead and rolled into small puddles by my shoulders. I heard my father’s rambling voice below, his Midwestern drawl reverberating through the paper-thin walls. My door opened slowly, quietly. I pretended to be asleep. There wafted from the doorway the alcoholic mustiness of my great uncle George. A sad old soul plagued with Alzheimer’s he often spoke to me as he did to his wife when she was alive, or so I was told. Uncle George pulled down his pants leaving himself fully exposed and climbed on me, his ancient member flaccid as it touched my inner thigh. He wept the genuine tears of lost love and whispered my great aunt’s name into my ear. After a time his body rolled off the bed; his feet touched the wooden floor. He pulled his trousers up around his thinning waist and exited as quietly as he had entered. The next morning, my mother found him dead in his small twin bed. His dead wife’s namesake avenged.

Video of the Week: One

Every so often, I need a pick me up. I immediately enter a 'y' in Firefox's address line and click 'youtube'. Then I choose the video that reenergizes me. A performance by U2 and Mary J. Blige. Not necessarily my favorite performers of all time. But this song certainly qualifies as one of my favorites.

Art in All its Forms: Tyler Perry's Madea Goes to Jail

Joseph and I ventured to The Landing in Renton this past weekend. I needed cleats. And Joseph wanted to see Tyler Perry's Madea Goes to Jail.

We hunkered down in the exceptionally comfortable chairs - though for an $8.00 matinee ticket they better be comfortable - and watched the lights dim. We watched the trailers. Something about a witch in a mountain with the Dwayne formerly known as the rock. A story about some haunted house in northern Connecticut. And when the movie trailer announcer guy said Connecticut, Joseph got all excited and nudged me given that I am a Connecticutian after all. There were a few other forgettable movies introduced, but obviously nothing in which I had an interest.

Then there was the movie. Now, mind you, I didn't really want to see Madea go to jail. Not that I care all that much about Madea. I mean, whether she goes to jail or not. Oh, you know what I mean.

I saw that the critics had given the movie a C. I also understood that this movie would most likely be uneven, tenuous in places, ridiculous in others, and somewhat glib overall. Let's face it, a 6'6" man dressed as an old woman acting as the comedic conscience of a middle class African-American family is just asking to fall on its face. Not to mention the fact that Derek Luke did not play a lawyer well. And I just can't get past Rudy Huckleberry being a prostitute.

With all that said, however, the movie wasn't a complete failure. In fact I don't think I'd call it a failure at all. Because it doesn't take itself too seriously. It's a morality play that laughs at itself and gets away with it. Madea is funny. As well as Brown in his outfits and Uncle Joe constantly smoking weed. And though Luke and Knight Pulliam just don't feel right in their respective roles, they still manage to deliver the Christian message for which Tyler Perry is known.

Would I spend another $8.00 to see a movie of this caliber? If Joseph is adamant, I may. But not if I had my choice. Still, I do not wish for those 2 hours of my life back. And I laughed, something I realize I do too infrequently.

For those of you who have never seen a Tyler Perry production. I'd suggest you see Diary of a Mad Black Woman or Family Reunion. Or you can see any of his plays on DVD.

Sunday Scribblings: Lost American Sentences

American Sentences: They are haiku-length poems that Allen Ginsburg suggested be limited to 17 syllables, like haiku in Japanese and like the Heart Sutra in Buddhism. The following two sentences are such American Sentences of 17 syllables.

The devil sits atop the steeple eying lost souls for his stockpile.

I found myself utterly lost in the dark folds of the mountain’s flab.

A lost book of the Bible is neither lost nor part of the Bible.