I don’t like advertising shit via this blog. It feels like the exact opposite of the culture ST and I have worked to create. But: sometimes, you have to give credit where credit’s due. And Jon Lajoie is due an awful lot of credit.
If ST and I could combine all of our skills into one crazy person with a ton of skills, that person would be almost entirely useless. But if we combined our skills and worked our hardest to make a video that explained why society sucks, we’d have to make like 100 of them before we approached anything close to what Jon Lajoie is putting out. He’s awesome, is my convoluted point.
Watch the video I embedded above. It raises a ton of great points about consumerism and advertising and the health/state of the advertising industry…it’s better than anything we’re going to come up with here, that’s for sure…but it feels very honest, which is great. It’s as though the guy who plays Taco in “The League” has figured out satire in a way that none of us will ever approach.
Look, I know, I’m kind of fawning at this point, and I don’t want this to become a thing, but I”m allowed one or two positive posts every so often. Using one to compliment a great comedian/video maker seems like a fair thing.
Hey guys! Remember this video from a few years back? If you don’t, please don’t hit play — just…trust me, if you do your eyes, ears and/or genitals will explode in a mixture of anger and depression I call depranger.
(Actually, you know what? Real-time update: Please DO watch this. This is possibly the worst/funniest thing I’ve ever seen…and I’m writing this update 27 SECONDS INTO THE VIDEO. This thing is amazing, and probably deserves its own post breaking down how bad it is. I won’t do it, mind you, because I expect that by the 45 second mark all I’ll be able to say is “:(” like 17 million times, but still. Awesomely awful video.)
This is “Crank That” by Soulja Boy. Seems pretty inoffensive at first, right? Well here’s the real message of this song’s chorus: “Crank that Soulja Boy and Superman that ho!” Odds are you do remember this song, BTW, because everyone and their grandmother’s sister’s autistic gay dog did a parody video that they wished would go viral or whatever — it was like “Call Me Maybe” from a decade ago. This song was a runner-up for Best Rap Song (!) at the Grammys (!!). Even though my feelings on the Grammys are clear and well-documented, that’s a lot of notoriety for a song that’s about…wait, what IS this song about, anyway?
Yeah, I know. Ridiculous, right? That’s not even the best part (or, you know, even the point of this post yet. This preamble is pretty long — turns out I have a lot to say on this ridiculous thing.) If you do a Google search for “Superman that ho,” the top four (!!!! [that was one exclamation point for each link]) links are to various Urban Dictionary entries with different spellings of this phrase. Which one is the “correct” one? Let’s go by which is most popular in terms of percentage of positive votes!
Iteration
Upvotes
Downvotes
% Positive
“Superman that ho”
1,319
204
86.6%
“Superman dat hoe”
4,884
905
84.4%
“Superman a Ho”
2,252
997
69.3%
“Superman dat ho”
801
372
68.3%
There you have it: official spelling from here on out is “Superman that ho.” Very proper spelling preferences, Urban Dictionary!
In any case, we can all mostly agree this is pretty gross, right? Or at the very least pretty ridiculous? The entire concept of “Superman[ning] that ho” is the kind of thing a depraved pervert lunatic would come up with, and whoever coined the phrase should be ashamed of themselves. Buuuuuuut on an unrelated note, it DID get me thinking: What other superhero terms would make for great sex terms? Well I’m glad you asked, fellow morally-superior friend! Let’s find out after the jump!
(Title shamelessly stolen from this terrifically underrated song by Elbow)
Today was the men’s tennis final at the French Open. It may not seem especially noteworthy — I mean, they hold one tournament a year, right?? — but here’s the rub: Novak Djokovic, a top-three-ranked player since he was like four years old, has never won at Roland Garros. And if you know anything about tennis, you’ll know Novak Djokovic is No Djok! Get it? Like…phonetics?? Ehhhh.
Instead of Novak winning, Rafa Nadal won his like 999th title (OK, 9th, whatever) — pretty insane. Nadal is basically God’s answer to Roger Federer — if you’ll recall, Roger couldn’t and still can’t win anything where his opponent hits strong and sharp backhands, and Rafa was basically molded from…well, clay to do just that. He’s the perfect clay court player. His nine titles are absurd. He technically started playing professionally in 2002, at the ludicrous age of 15. Rafa was turning pro at 15! Know what I was doing at 15? Turning Japanese. (Get it? I was like, just learning how to masturbate and lamenting how girls were weird and unapproachable.)
The point is: in 2005, Nadal won the French Open, beginning an absurd level of domination we rarely get to see. In 2006, 2007, 2008, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013 and now 2014, he also won the French Open. They should basically call the damn trophy the Nadal Cup at this point. I didn’t even bother writing 2010-2014 because I felt like the shorthand would take away from his legitimacy. This is a hilariously retarded run of dominance.
But here’s the thing that really expresses my point: Rafa didn’t win his first US Open until 2010, a mere eight years after he turned pro. And I bet that was emotional for him. One of the key foundations of sportswriting is projecting your feelings onto athletes, especially those that can’t speak your language. By that measure, Andy Murray is the most sympathetic athlete we’ve seen in a long, long time — since we can speak his language, and that language is sadness.
Let me just state: it’s not like I am obsessed with rankings. But here’s the thing: rankings are fun! And moreover, it allows me to put logic and analysis behind something that is totally, wildly subjective (not to mention totally, wildly pointless). I’ve already done it to holidays, and now I’m back with a new list that came up over breakfast this morning while our tired, hungover and slightly cranky group of wine tasters ate: herbs and spices! Hit that jump and let’s explore some culinary craziness.
glitchgoals 