The Black Snob

Politics. Pop Culture. Pretentiousness.

Archive for September 2007

Finally, something to distract me from non-stop misery and war coverage

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First “Prison Break” and now my precious “Ugly Betty” and “Grey’s Anatomy” have returned to me. Non-stereotypical Black people on TV night! The only thing that would have made this night more perfect would have been if Isaiah Washington had not gotten himself un-hired over the summer at “Grey’s Anatomy” then spent the summer telling everyone and their grandmother, “but that wasn’t what I said what I really meant the time when I indirectly called that dude the F bomb. Really. I didn’t know.”

And I was going to make that man “Mr. Snob.” Now he’s somewhere in the Playskool toy box with Malibu Ken, Rub-A-Dub Doggie and my #1 crush of 1991 – Tevin Campbell.

We’ll always have “Mixing Nia.”

That said. All sorts of blactresses and blactors are on TV this fall. Even Isaiah. Although I don’t know when he’s supposed to pop up on NBC’s “Bionic Woman” remake. I’ve decided that I’m going to try to watch everything that has a black actor in a prominent role this season. And since that pretty much comprises of, like, five or six shows — three that I already watch — it shouldn’t be too hard.

I couldn’t pull off the feat this week because Ken Burns’ WWII documentary, “The War” has been eating up two hours of my TV viewing time every night. I keep having Jim Crow flashbacks while watching it, which is remarkable since I never lived through Jim Crow. As much as I’m digging the documentary (I’m also a history snob) I almost have a brain aneurysm whenever Keith David narrates how some military general/businessman/jackass is adamant that black people can’t serve-in-combat/work-in-factory/breathe-same-air as a white man. Mind you, they’re doing all this bitching when Hitler’s ubermensches are destroying Europe, brutalizing Russia and tossing Jews in ovens. Oh, and the Japanese are taking over the Pacific, holding Americans in death/slave labor camps and thousands of Americans are dying in battle because in the first couple of years of the war America didn’t know what the hell it was doing so the average soldier had to learn how to kill while he was getting blown up.

You know … fun stuff.

So, the world’s about to fucking end, you’re dying on a battlefield and you’re like, “No, no, darkie! I’ll just stay here and get killed.”

Really? When Hitler is kicking the shit out of you, you STILL care if it’s the black man who comes to save your ass? Seriously???

ANE–U–RYSM!

That said, celebrate former Miss America, Grammy-winning recording artist and NBA spouse survivor Vanessa Williams receiving a regular paycheck by watching “Ugly Betty” tonight.

More on employed black people on TV this fall after I get a good look at all of them.

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Written by blacksnob

September 27, 2007 at 11:39 pm

Black Media Watch: Jonathan Capehart

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Mother Snob, for some perverse reason, is a big fan of MSNBC’s Hardball with Chris Matthews. I’d mentally resigned away Matthews years ago as as the other cable TV news host from the 90s that I couldn’t stand that wasn’t Geraldo. But for both Matthews and Geraldo Rivera, I realized that a lot of my distaste had to do with Rivera’s wall-to-wall Angry OJ Orgasma and Matthews’ white hot Bill Clinton rage-lust.

I still can’t look at Geraldo without the “Trial of the Century” PTSD kicking in, but Chris and I have been able to half-ass work things out. Since he’s one twinkle in the eye of taking his bravado, picking up a pitchfork and a noose and going off on a one-man-lynch party to the White House over Iraq he is just barely able to dip into the ol’ Hillary Hate snuff. He still doesn’t really ask questions, and watching reporters n’ pundits go on his show is almost like watching unsuspecting people get mauled by a foul-mouthed bear that won’t let you finish your sentences.

One of those journalists who never gets to finish his sentences is Jonathan Capehart of The Washington Post’s editorial staff.

I like Capehart. I’m a fan of most black word nerds and he’s just the word-nerdiest! He’s also attractive (I like men with glasses as I too cannot see), but alas, he’s probably not interested in my black nerd love.

Capehart comes off as intelligent, well-meaning and polite which does nothing for him on the maelstrom that is cable TV news. But despite the inability to complete a sentence when Chris Matthews isn’t hearing what he wants to hear I’m always happy to see representations of black male hood that isn’t presented in the forms hyper-masculine studio rappers with ‘Roid Rage or fat suit wearing comics in dresses. (Please, America. Some more diversity in black masculinity on television. Bill O’Reilly thinks we all drop the mf-bomb in restaurants. Especially when ordering our tea.)

And given that he’s both gay and a black man, that has to be some special mental jujitsu to deal with both racism and varying degrees of gay panic. I can relate some being a woman, although my gender discrimination tends to come in the form of people just wishing I’d shut up and put out already.

Papa Snob hasn’t been impressed with Capehart’s appearances on the show. Mostly because despite Capehart’s best efforts he always ends up coming off weak. But Chris Matthews is a bully. Everyone who goes on that show comes off as weak unless you’re a pretty woman who causes Matthews to become all “gee, shucks” and giggly. For Capehart it’s more like he’s this battered spouse who keeps going back on the show because this week, THIS WEEK, Chris will let him make his point. Sure, most of the time Capehart loses his point and just sort of screams “Not in the face!” as Matthews clumsily claws at him on his way to taking out the pundit next to him, but I understand.

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September 27, 2007 at 3:19 am

Word of the Day

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“As Michael Jackson grew more and more isolated his complexion seemed to etiolate until it no longer resembled the brown tone he once had.”

e·ti·o·late: verb, (-lat·ed, -lat·ing.) 1. to cause (a plant) to whiten or grow pale by excluding light: to etiolate celery. 2. to cause to become weakened or sickly; drain of color or vigor. 3. (of plants) to whiten or grow pale through lack of light.

Written by blacksnob

September 26, 2007 at 4:52 pm

Posted in word of the day

Incognegro Part III: Wentworth Miller

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Actor. Nerd. English major. Korean fashion superstar. Ivy league man. Star of TV’s “Prison Break.”

That’s my oddly sexy, raspy-voiced, thin as a rail, look like a white guy while not actually being a white guy, Wentworth Miller.

I didn’t discover Miller until I read the initial press on “Prison Break” when it debuted in 2005 on Fox and even then I didn’t pay much attention to him. I mean, the whole concept of “Prison Break” was ludicrous and, dude, Brett Ratner was the producer. I mean, Brett “I love Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan and, oh, by the way I’m a hack movie director ” Ratner. I wasn’t taking it seriously, then, in one of my more obsessive movie watching weekends I rented the film that was supposed to put Wentworth Miller on the map – The Human Stain.

It was one of those flicks that was supposed to be an Oscar contender but just turned out to be uneven and too flat to make it out the gate. Sure it starred Sir Anthony Hopkins and Nicole Kidman, but all most people could talk about at the time was how could Hopkins play an American black man passing for white when he was white British man. I always thought this was a little silly, as to pass for white you DO have to actually look like a white person. And if you’re trying to give your movie Oscar buzz the director isn’t going to cast the 60+ year old lead with some largely unknown biracial actor OR with a known black actor who is light, but would never pass for a white person (a la James Earl Jones.) So … pointless argument. The real argument was despite everyone’s efforts — and MAN was everyone trying hard in that movie — it was just an uneven film.

But it had one bright spot.

The guy playing the young version of Anthony Hopkins. As, not only could he act he had a sort of quiet anger, a smoldering lethality of edgy, intelligent sexiness. And he was pretty. Pretty like a woman. Like Prince.

Not that I’m into that sort of thing.

Anyway. He charmed me off the screen and he had the ridiculous name of “Wentworth.” And I could remember reading about the film in 2003 and how Wentworth was half black, although interviewers repeatedly kept assuming he was white and beating him down with the race questions they’d been smacking Hopkins up with.

After watching him charm the pants off Jacinda Bartlett in “The Human Stain” I was a fan. And when I learned he was a nerd my fan heart only beat stronger. And then I watched “Prison Break,” which delightfully was the direct opposite of sucking.

Nicely played, Ratner. Nicely played.

As a celebrity, Miller plays the unaware act, pretending to not acknowledge that he’s gorgeous and he dresses like crap when he’s not posing in fashion ads. He makes a great effort (or perhaps not) to sound utterly boring and never manages to get wasted or pull a classic Robert Downy Jr. in public.


I’m amongst Wentworth Miller’s large, kind of psycho fan base that’s a nice mix of women between the ages of 16 and 60, Koreans and gay men. Of his fan base there’s a segment of those two groups (but largely consisting of the gay man group) who partake in constant Miller sexual orientation speculation. Miller has repeatedly said he is not gay. Reams of sexual orientation speculators say otherwise.

I, personally, don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m a fan of Wentworth the actor. As in, “Wentworth, the Not-Black-Black-Man Fantasy Set Piece.” I only want to know the most superficial things about an actor. Like, where are you from? Are you a not-black-black person? Will you be making any films where your love interest is one of black America’s many attractive, underemployed black and not-black-black-actresses? Like I don’t know shit about Allen Payne and I’m rapturously in love with Allen (but I’m still not watching that show.) But in my head he is forever 1/2 his character from “CB4” and 1/2 Jason from “Jason’s Lyric” and in my mind, him and Jada Pinkett, aka “Lyric” are somewhere in far, far from the fifth ward with, like, kids and stuff. All happy black family, all the time.

But you get my point. I don’t care what Wentworth’s sexual orientation is. But, if he is gay, for the record, I think he and Anderson Cooper would make a cute couple. Anderson allegedly likes his men with a little black in them. They both went to Ivy League schools. Anderson’s a better dresser, but Wentworth looks like a skinny fashion model. They’re both intense, private, weird little nerd people. I think we should fix them up.


But if I you are gay and I see you with someone horrifying, like say Taye Diggs or Perez Hilton, we’re going to have some issues. (I know you’d never date Perez, Went. But I had to think of someone as equally irritating to me as Taye. Eeeew, Taye.) That said, if you’re not gay, surprise me and date a black woman. You know, just for shits and giggles. Don’t do me like Tiger Woods.

They just all had to be blondes, huh, Tiger? That’s OK. That’s cool. Congratulations on the daughter that you strangely named Sam, not Samantha, but Sam. She’s very cute.

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September 25, 2007 at 12:31 am

Sorry for the lack of blogging!

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My computer went on the fritz for nearly a week then work decided to get all nutty. I promise, PROMISE! Exciting entries about black leadership, horrendous music, whether my not-black-black-fantasy man is really a stark, raving homosexual and how that really doesn’t mean much to me as, dude, he’s an actor and I’m a clinically depressed, perpetually cranky black woman livin’ it up in the so-called “fly over country,” it ain’t that serious. I also plan to write about the new Kanye West album (I’m conflicted on it) and the sorry state of black music in general. As in BET has to die. Seriously. I’d just rather not see black people on TV than see that trash. I mean, Hell Date? Really? Why is it that everything on BET sounds like something from an “In Living Color” skit back in ’94. Speaking of ’94, the mid-90s? They’re making a comeback! Hillary Clinton, health care reform, OJ Simpson, really ugly, colorful clothes. It’s all coming back!

Oh and something on Whoopi and Sherri Shepard. But I don’t know what I’m going to write yet. Gotta go! I’ll be back soon!

Written by blacksnob

September 24, 2007 at 10:29 pm

Posted in excuses

Why Serena, why?

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Why did you have to lose to Justine Henin? Why weren’t you smacking the ball as hard as they come like you usually do? Why did you have to come off especially bitchy at the post-game interview? I won’t yell at you like I yell at James Blake as he has been nothing but a river of disappointment to me tennis-wise (but way to cheat death, James. You’ve got skills there.) But Justine Henin? That cheatin’ Justine Henin? And I had to listen to John McEnroe and Tracey Austin go on and on and on about how brilliant Justine is and her little footsteps and her grace and how compelling her family drama is and her coach who she’s had since she was 14 and how fascinatingly wonderfully fascinating she is! She’s practically magical!

Of course she also kept serving into the net. (But she made those aces when the dumping into the next was killing her.) But no mention of that. Just how brilliant she was with occasional mentions of how the crowd seemed out of it and that Serena seemed lackluster. Nevermind Serena and her sister and Venus were the only remaining American women in the tournament. Which just happens to be the … um … US OPEN. So while I don’t expect McEnroe to openly hate on Belgium when Justine enters the court, he could at least FAKE like he gives a crap if an American woman wins the damn US Open. The French like it when a French player is in the hunt during the French Open. The Brits love their players. And McEnroe has been bitching for the last few years about the dearth in American mens tennis since only James “The Flake” Blake and Andy “I Choke Faster Than Blake Can Choke” Roddick remain in a world without the bland, but unbeatable Pete Sampras.

He cries and whines about how there are no American men in it. But nothing? Nothing, people, for Serena? She’s from COMPTON, CALIFORNIA for chrissakes. You cannot get any more American than if you’re the daughter of a former slave and your last name happens to be “Washington.” As American than a portrait of Marylin Monroe with cornrows holding a fried apple pie from McDonalds and chugging a Bud Light.

Sure. It’s not pretty, fake, cute, delicate America taking tiny steps of genius. It’s real America and real America will kick your ass.

Except for last night. Last night America couldn’t get off her toes. But tonight America is Venus tonight and she’s coming off a win at Wimbledon.

And America is gonna kick that ass. (I hope. Because Venus, love her, but she’s gotta bad second serve.)

Written by blacksnob

September 5, 2007 at 10:20 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

The Artist as a Young Snob

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Things I snobbed on as a child:

  • Red meat = Yuck and killer heart disease
  • Loud noises
  • Camera flashes (get the paps out of my face!)
  • Bugs. Filthy, scary, dirty bugs.
  • Hypocrisy. My catchphrase from age 5 to 15 was “It’s not fair!” And shit wasn’t fair! Hypocrisy!
  • Broken hot dog buns … hell, broken bread period.
  • Boys. I thought they were gross. I got over it around 13.
  • My fried bologna sandwich getting cold.
  • The Dark. It’s scary.
  • Riding in the backseat. The Snob only likes to ride shotgun.
  • My little sister Stinky. How dare she be born and be cuter and funnier than me. I snobbed her with the quickness.
  • Playing with others. In kindergarten the snob liked to play with her Little People solo. I needed no crew.
    • Showbiz Pizza.
    • People who couldn’t share.
    • Pants. Didn’t like ’em. Didn’t need ’em.
    • Having a twin bed, but no canopy. C’mon, Mama Snob. The canopy really tied the room together.
    • Taye Diggs. Granted, I didn’t know him when I was six, but I know that if I had met him I still wouldn’t have liked his ass. Damn that Taye Diggs. UPN cancels your first crappy show, then ABC cancels the other one and you STILL manage to survive, landing on ABC again on the Grey’s Anatomy spin-off. DAMN YOU, TAYE DIGGS! You’re like Jason. Every time I think you’re dead, you come back all bald and irritating. And you ruin the Grey’s Anatomy spin-off — Private Practice? They actually hired a sister who looks hot and while I support all black women on TV who are presentable, I just get excited when the black woman is smart and successful and sexy too. The three most important “S” every woman wants to be. But they so, so, so very rarely cast a gorgeous sister. Black women are sexy too, Hollywood. And not in the way your filthy minds are thinking. Turn off the BET and open a copy of Essence. Hell, open King magazine. Nothing’s worse than BET … well, except maybe Taye Diggs. I don’t know, it’s kind of a draw. But I’ll rant on the plight of hot black actresses later. But back to my original point …

… Seriously, Taye. You ruin this for her and I’ll never forgive you. The sister is 37 and she NEEDS this. Your ass can always fall back on posing nude in Vanity Fair’s Hollywood issue like you were tricked out by Tom Ford.

Oh wait. You already did that! Damn you, Taye Diggs! Two negroes out of the whole damn exploitive Hollywood issue and you get them both naked. Why not have them pose naked on a slab of wood while a bunch of wealthy people haggle over how much for the two darkies? God, I forgot how much that issue pissed me off and you reminded me of it, Taye Diggs.

I just can’t take it no more. Stay steady snobbin’!

Written by blacksnob

September 1, 2007 at 7:24 am