Don't be a caricature

You were thinking it...

Note: This is not the post where I address my 6 month hiatus...

In the wake of the debacle that was Nicki Minaj's Grammy performance, I felt obligated to post this. I am sure that one or two googlers will stumble upon this post as a result of said searched, and I'm cool with that, but its not my intention to capitalize off of another person's professional trauma. Keep in mind that this is not a pop culture gossip page, so Nicki Minaj is not the topic per se.

Between the wigs, the voices, the outfits, and the augmented physical features - its clear to me that Nicki Minaj is a caricature.  I believe that my target audience are the intellectual, book-reading types so I don't feel its necessary to elaborate on the caricature-type (a la cartoon Hottentot). Long story short, she reminds me of Biggie Shorty (Pootie Tang).

Now, I admit. Caricatures are funny – they ought to be because they’re jokes.  They embellish flaws, and in calling your attention to the absurdity of the exaggeration, take a little power away from the imperfection.  That’s cool.

What is not cool is actually becoming a caricature. Actually living an entire life of contrived embellishment. What makes caricatures cool is the fact that they are not real – at all. Sure your nose is big, but it is not nearly as big as the one on your caricature. Yes you have a tiny head, but it is not nearly as tiny as the one on your caricature. Sure you talk loud, but you don’t yell everything like your caricature does. Do you follow me?

Don’t be a caricature, because at the end of the day you’re only a joke.

Rejection, Motivation, and Awesomeness

I should be embarrassed to still have this

What you see is a message from my now defunct Myspace music page, circa 06. [I call it defunct, but it’s still there – I just do absolutely nothing with it like 99% of the former Myspace users.] This message is the response to my solicitation of an “expert opinion” about the music posted on said page. The expert opinion came from 88 Keys, a hip-hop producer whose discography includes work for: Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Macy Gray, Beanie Siegel, and most recently Kanye West and Jay-Z on Watch the Throne. I don’t remember what songs were on the page at that time, but I’m pretty sure that I liked them. No. I’m certain that I liked them, and that I regarded them as unpolished gems of immeasurable worth. So, thinking that I had royal gems, I went to get them appraised…and the appraiser said they were rocks.

I actually remember the day clearly. I logged in to my page and was delighted that I had received a response. I did not expect a successful producer to take the time to respond to my request. So with trepidation and excitement I opened the message: “The writing's ok but the flow, voice & beats leaves much to be desired. Aight... Chill!”

My heart sank. He said that I sucked. But the bitter pain of the rejection was quickly replaced with disgusted anger for his corny valediction: “Aight... Chill!” I am fully aware that anger is a defense mechanism, but still… Who says that?

Anyway, I resolved to make Mr. Keys eat his words one day when he came begging to produce a song for me. Childish? Of course. But, this dismissal of my talent was motivation – and for the next couple of weeks I would open it periodically. The first few times, I felt the gut punch all over again and the feelings of anger, rejection, motivation, and vengeance would wash over me. Soon enough, I forgot about the whole thing.  The motivating desire for vindication faded, and I went back to living life exactly as I had before.  I made more songs afterwards and enjoyed them immensely. And never once did I feel Mr. Keys’ cold gaze of judgment.

At the end of the day “expert opinions” are like any other opinion – pretty much disposable. They have only as much power as you give them. You set the value of your own gems, and defy anyone to appraise them otherwise. You are the only critic that matters and your personal desire for your own awesomeness is the only motivation that matters. Aight... Chill!! (see?)

Excuses are not awesome at all – Run through them

Zombies don't accept excuses

This morning as I was driving into work, it was pouring rain. As I approached my favorite stretch of road that cuts between a forest preserve and passes over the highway, I saw a man running – an older man, likely in his 60s. Let me remind you, its pouring rain. I drive past the man slowly and wonder does he want to get out of the rain? Did he begin running and get caught and is now too far from home? Is he so far that his only choice is to keep running?  I drove for another eighth of a mile before I got worried that this guy might catch pneumonia, and turned around to ask if he needed a ride*. I turned around and parked on the only bit of road that was large enough to be a proper shoulder. He approached, keeping his pace. I rolled down my window and he stopped, pushed a button on his watch, and smiled as I offered to drive him somewhere. He replied, “It started raining on Mile 1, and this is Mile 6. So…I’m going to keep going.” He smiled, thanked me for my kindness, pushed a button on his watch, and started running again.

I have no idea how many miles this man continued to run after we parted ways. But I do know that he was only 1 mile from home when it started raining.  And I met him – in the rain – 5 miles later.  I am certain that even the best of us would have considered turning around once the rain started. And of those, some would have turned around.  And we would have had a very reasonable excuse. But this man, knowing that there was far more road to travel forward than backward, kept going forward. For that, he is awesome.

*while it’s not relevant to the story, when I made the decision to turn around, I saw a big pretty rainbow. And when I turned to head back towards the runner, I saw another rainbow in the opposite direction. Rainbows are perfectly normal natural occurrences, but I’m still the sort of person who ascribes meaning to things like that.