Thanks for joining me for an all-new action-packed edition of The McClane Tirade. I'll be your host this evening, Matt McClane.
Let's get this show started immediately with a new music video from R & B music legend, Jamie Foxx:
I don't know if you were able to make it through the entire video, and if you somehow did, let me suggest some Tylenol or perhaps a nice cold wrap for your head. If the bleeding persists, see your doctor immediately.
If the bleeding persists for more than a week, you should get your ass over to Lacuna, Inc. and get Dr. Howard Mierzwiak to erase those troubling memories immediately. You don't want the memory of this video sneaking up on you when you're in the shower... or even worse... while having sexual intercourse with yourself or even another person.
However, for now, I want to take a post and discuss this damn thing.
First of all: No, you didn't accidentally trip, fall and jam a bunch of acid on your tongue. That was, indeed, Ron Howard.
I don't have a MySpace account, although I did for quite some time. This morning I ran up on a link for this new video and my curiosity got the best of me... mostly because the link had this picture of Jamie Foxx looking like a helicopter pilot. And with the wink of a whispering eye, and the click of a button, I was pulled back into the world of MySpace video. I was also quickly reminded why I don't go near that site anymore.
The first thing to note is the awkward credit sequence. The credit sequence, I think, is actually the meat of the entire video. Most of the people in this sequence only appear in tiny seconds of the dance club place.
Anyway, out of nowhere... and I mean OUT. OF. NOWHERE., Ron Howard drives up in a convertible with his combover flailing in the breeze. The music playing to this credit sequence could be easily dubbed over one of those "save these animals from being euthanized by donating a shit-ton of money to Sara McLaughlin" commercials. Seriously, this music made me want to cry. Picturing both Ron Howard's skull and sad kittens and tiny puppy paws... both desperately needing YOUR help to survive... it all gave me the chills.
Anyway, after our stars take their sweet time in getting out of their cars (this could have taken the best part of an hour, I think), they all enter into the photo dark room that's been converted into a night club. This strikes me as being CRAZY awesome, because now that digital cameras have pretty much cornered the entire photography market, nobody uses those dark rooms anymore. (Except, that is, for experimental college kids and stubborn, 60-year-old photographers who refuse to let go of their past.) I sure as hell don't see any 60-year-olds carrying around 1984 Cannons in that club, do you?
Anyway, upon entering, Donnie Darko and Ron Howard abruptly realize that they're the only white men in the entire building. Apparently, they slowly make their way over to the buffet line to pick up some fruit on toothpicks and tiny ham & cheese sandwiches. (There might have been some miniature hot dogs in there as well, but it's hard to tell from the annoying darkroom lights.) They steer clear of the video for the rest of the night, discussing how awesome mayonnaise tastes.
The Last King of Scotland proceeds to take three Ecstasy pills, rip his pants off and stumble into the crowd, thirsty for human blood.
Why, do you ask, does Forrest Whitaker go on a blood-letting rampage culminating on him chewing a video bitch's kneecap off? It MIGHT have something to do with Jamie Foxx's synthesized voice. Let's dig deeper into this mystery.
Readers, I'm just going to throw this out there to be bold: I absolutely LOATHE these damn mechanized, synthesized, fake-ass voice enhancers. Kanye West... Lil Wayne... T Pain... Jamie Foxx... Cher... The Guitarist from Bon Jovi's band... ridiculous. I don't know what kind of impact this kind of shit is having on the music industry, and I have no idea what the billions of kids out there buying this shit think about it, but it's ripping my ears off and stomping on 'em.
You can probably find billions and billions of other blog posts about this, so feel free to scatter around the internet and digest all the hate (and/or love) for this new fad in the music biz. I'll be happy, however, to give you a little something here on the Tirade that you won't find on any other blog:
What the music business guys aren't telling you is that there's something far more sinister and deadly happening with this voice synthesizer business than meets the eye. Not only are they using these synthesizers to make famous rappers & actors sound like they can actually sing... but they're also using them to hypnotize us into eating each other.
Trust me... I know it sounds ridiculous, but the next time you listen to Lil Wayne sing that lollipop song, ask yourself: What does he REALLY mean by licking a lollipop? Could it be the ravenous slaughter of another human being, followed immediately by skinning him alive, bathing in his blood, eating his brains and gaining his knowledge & power?
I think so. Definitely.
At any rate, things are getting hot and heavy in the photographic developing room when the panda in a suit shows up. By now, T Pain has taken over, but it's really hard to tell since they're both using the cannibal synthesizer software at the exact same time.
Forrest Whitaker's whereabouts are unknown by now (his trail of blood runs cold near the rear exit and there's a half-eaten hand by the Air Conditioning unit), Sam Jackson gave up hours ago and went home to cry over his busted career... Jake Gyllenhaal stole all the silverware and also Ron Howard's car... and Howard got caught up in an intense game of piss-racing in the women's restroom.
(If you blink you could miss it, but I also caught a glimpse of Opie Taylor doing whip-its with Freddie Prinz Jr.)
The video ties everything up nicely when the giant panda is revealed to actually be... ((SPOILER ALERT!!!)) Jamie Foxx!!!!!
Attention Hype Williams: dude, did you just sit at your house playing Battleship and phone this shit in? Did you let your 10-year-old nephew direct this thing? Remember when the videos you directed were actually cool?
California Love? (Absolutely brilliant.)
The Rain? (Vintage awesome overweight Missy Elliot at her best.)
Yeah, that's right. I just named my favorite Usher song right here on the Tirade. (Besides, at the end of that video, a giant building explodes for no apparent reason at all while Usher drives away on his motorcycle. That's badass.)
Sure, Hype, you've got a videography the size of the Sears Tower, but that doesn't mean you can let all those Jamie Foxx fans down. When it comes to their favorite Jamie Foxx tunes, it's going to take a lot more than a giant panda head and Ron Howard's uncomfortable face to make a cool video. Even a blood-hungry, kneecap-chewing Ghost Dog can't save the day. No, Hype, a breakthrough, stylish and highly original song like this deserves a video that... can...
... oh man, wait a minute.
Breakthrough? Stylish. Original? Aaah...
Now that I think about it, this video is absolutely perfect for this song.
Damn Hype... in the end... I DO see your thinking. Touché, my friend. Touché. I'll never doubt you again.
I can't stand the rain,
-McClane (Supa Dupa Fly)
P.S. At one point in the chorus in this song, Jamie Foxx actually says "Feeling on your butt, what?"
What indeed, Jamie.
What indeeeeeed.
1 Comments:
Ok. First off, WOW! How amazing was that, I mean really. Secondly, My boy Jake "Donnie Darko" is actually driving the convertible so yeah. Don't be giving Opie that kind of cred. Ok, now that that's out of the way. Is this Jamie Foxx's posse? Is this the crew he runs around with to dark room clubs? If so, why? Also, not mentioned in the epic opening credit sequence but musical legend and Fresh Prince of Bell Air producer Quincy Jones is seen as much as or more than the two white boys inside the club. Obviously though, this guy isn't big enough to run with the Foxx crew. I mean what has he done lately? And then the whole panda head thing, is that some kind of knock or something towards Kanye West with his little bear thing? If so I totally support it. If not, it was worth it just to see Jamie's face dripping with sweat after he wore that humongous monstrosity and danced around like a queer Jew that can't see. And without the video showing us whose singing, I defy any human being to distinguish between Jamie Foxx and T-Pain. What a bunch of "Hype"-ed up bullshit.
Logan
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