God's Own Crunk

An excellent piece of observational writing about a subject anyone watching the NBA Playoffs can understand – Craig Sager, his unbridled happiness to be doing what he’s doing, and those wild, wild suits. As a man who dons a pin-striped blue-white seersucker suit at least once a year, I can say with ease that I wish I could pull off some of Sager’s get-ups:

It’s true that prolonged exposure to him might impair your vision. But even more now than he did five years ago, he imparts a kind of joy — in being on TV, in being alive. That’s ultimately what these clothes are. They’re terribly, terribly alive. And Sager is so happy and comfortable in them. The only man who could wear nonsense of this caliber and seem as remotely full of mirth is Payne Stewart, a star who played golf in attire that most other men would wear only as the entertainment for their 5-year-old’s birthday party. But Stewart was always kind of pleased with himself. He was so … put-together. What I love about Sager — what I think we all begrudgingly love — is that this is the only self he has, and it feels utterly, inarguably true. He spent some of March Madness in a marbled suit with the brackets printed on his black necktie. Would anyone else dare? Should they?

via Craig Sager’s Suits and Sideline Sartorial Disasters – Grantland.

Good stuff. I’m always and forever a Buffy man, although I’m still hurting from Dollhouse’s demise. Whatevs – a humorous personal note from the man himself after his weekend triumph. Joss Whedon may not always do it right, but he never goes wrong in my book.

As many people know, the groundbreaking series House M.D., a GOC favorite, is going off the air soon.

As fewer people know, Shaquille “Shaq” O’Neal hosted the short-lived series “Shaquille O’Neal’s Sports Theater” on a network aimed at tweeners in 1998 (Nick or ABC nee Fox Family, I can’t recall). So obscure is this show that – not making this up – it does not appear in his credits on IMDB. Need I say: SRSLY.

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In a running joke that’s not a joke but goes back nearly a decade, I’ve never had what less kingly mortals often refer to as a “guilty pleasure.”

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A few sad details from Whitney Houston’s last day:

The report reveals that Houston, who was alone in the bathtub in her hotel room at the Beverly Hilton Hotel on February 11, was found face down in “extremely hot water”, and that there was a burn on her back. Investigators discovered a small white spoon with a “white crystal like substance” and a “white powdery substance” on it. A nearby mirror had the same substance on its surface.

It was noted that a “bloody purge” was coming out of Houston’s nose. She also had minor abrasions on her face, arms and legs, and a possible needle puncture wound on her inner left elbow.

via Whitney Houston Final Coroner’s Report: Cocaine, Alcohol & Heart Disease | Music News, Reviews, and Gossip on Idolator.com.

I don’t consider addiction a disease, I consider it a character flaw. Semantics doesn’t change the fact that I had a friend succumb to this state last month at the age of 45. For quite obvious reasons Houston’s death received a lot of attention, but at the end of the day, a person who struggles with addiction struggles alone.

Celebrities grind on this struggle in the spotlight, which no doubt makes it worse, but so many of their deaths come in the loo of a hotel room, alone and often oblivious that their time has come to an end.

I’ve never reveled in celebrity’s struggling with addiction, in part because I know how unpleasant the business is doing it anonymously, much less with millions of people rooting for you to fuck up.

Sad business, this.

A writer I enjoy with a review opposite mine I enjoyed:

The reason for all the different theories about the movie’s subtext is because it doesn’t have one.

I’m not measuring The Hunger Games against, say, Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation or J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. No, The Hunger Games is brain-dead compared merely to last year’s Transformers 3.

Granted, the idea of a mortal-combat show sounds like a slam dunk, which is why there have been so many other movies with the same premise (such as The Running Man with Arnold Schwarzenegger).

via Mortal Combat From a Feminine Perspective – Taki’s Magazine.

This is one of the better clips of television ever produced. If you don’t want to click the link, it’s from Season 1 of Mad Men, and although I was intrigued by the first season, I didn’t see what all the fuss was about. This scene, however, is perfect.

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