UPDATED (2/19): NEW COLUMN: Grammys: Great Porn, Maybe, But Music It Was NOT

Art, Celebrity, Critique, Music, Sex

NEW COLUMN is “Grammys: Great Porn, Maybe, But Music It Was NOT.” It’s now on WND.COM and The Unz Review. An excerpt:

I used to have some respect for Lady Gaga. With all her pretentious Yoko Onanisms, Stefani Germanotta, Gaga’s real name, is actually a hard-working and, at times, polished singer.

But to watch Gaga, at the 61st Grammy Awards, perform a number called “Shallow” was to endure an assault on the eyes and the ears.

Legs permanently splayed like an arthritic street walker, Gaga traipsed around catatonically, attempting to head-bang, but getting disoriented. Some things are best left to a macho, metal-head guy.

Gaga’s look was not a good one. But her sound, which is what counts here, was positively terrible. Yet, Gaga—lugging microphone and mount around like a geriatric with a walker—was a highlight in what was a pornographic, cacophonous extravaganza.

Aside the gorgeous Alicia Keys, host of the 2019 Grammys, who is talented and charming, and Dolly Parton, a consummate pro—the event showcased the gutter culture that is the American music scene. The country is truly in the musical sewer.

The petulant female artists, so proud of their seized power, showcased power, all right—but it was all in the hips, the pelvis, and in thrusts and twerks of the tush. Not one transcendent, inspiringly beautiful dance move did these throngs of crass stompers execute, on the pimped stage.

Janelle Monáe? The sum total of this artiste’s musical “talent” is simulating sex on stage. “Let the v-gina monologue,” she hissed venomously at her adoring, masochistic fans, while moving her nether regions to a base, atavistic beat. Indeed, in an orifice, Miss Monáe has found the right interlocutor.

Let us stipulate for the record that this is never about lyrics. Cardi B screaming that she “likes morning sex” but that nothing in this world does she love “more than checks” is not an issue.

Put it this way, if the greatest composer ever, Johann Sebastian Bach, set his divine, god-like cantatas to the saucy, naughty lyrics of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, would I decry his sublime composition as immoral? Don’t be daft. The music of J.S. Bach would still be sublime if it were set to Cardi B’s gutter language.

My point: Cardi B doesn’t make music. The category for which she and her sisters should be nominated, if I am being charitable, is street theater.

Incessant, asinine, genital-speak is one of the things that distinguishes these female artistes (as in “a person with artistic pretensions”) and makes them particularly repulsive. Do they not realize some things are best left veiled and mysterious?

Women of Monáe’s ilk are first to robotically protest the objectification of their sex, but are complicit in ensuring that The Act itself suffers the very same fate: sex has been made an object, a fashionable accessory, part of an empowering, emasculating life-style.

Screaming there was aplenty at Grammys No. 61. But good voices? None at all. Informed we were that the insipid Kacey Musgraves, a two-chord whiner, is what passes for country music, these days. …

… READ THE REST. NEW COLUMN, “Grammys: Great Porn, Maybe, But Music It Was NOT,” is now on WND.COM and The Unz Review

UPDATE (2/19/019):

Linda Ronstadt on modern country music:

I don’t listen to modern country music. I don’t care for it particularly. I like old country music, when it still came out of the country. What they call country music now is what I call Midwest mall-crawler music. You go into big-box stores and come out with huge pushcarts of things. It’s not an agrarian form anymore. When it comes out of the country, it’s not farmers or woodsmen, or whatever. It doesn’t make much sense. It’s just suburban music.

Ilhan Omar Discovers That America, Left and Right, Is Predominantly Pro-Israel

Democrats, Islam, Israel, Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, Left-Liberalism And Progressivisim, Republicans, UN

Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-MN) discovered that America, left and right, is still pro-Israel.

In a tweet, Omar had implied that “Republicans are being bribed into supporting Israel by AIPAC (American Israel Public Affairs Committee):

“It’s all about the Benjamins baby,” [Omar said] quoting Puff Daddy’s ’90s paean to cash money. Omar subsequently specified that she was talking about spending from the likes of the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, better known as AIPAC, the powerful pro-Israel lobbying organization.

Neoconservative Nikki Haley piled on, pointing out (in broken English) that quips like the one made by Omar were an everyday occurrence at the UN.

My point is not to argue the substance of what Omar said—although I think her point against lobbyists for foreign states is a serious point.

My point here is to simply underscore how different the US is from the rest of the West, when it comes to Israel. It’s a lesson Ilhan Omar, who identifies as a Muslim refugee, has just found out, and will work to change, no doubt.

There will come a time, soon, with more Muslim immigration, when the tipping point will be reached and the US will be more like the UN which practically opens every one of its sessions with a pro forma resolution condemning Israel.

61st Grammy Awards: Another Great Porn Show. Music It Was NOT

Aesthetics, Art, Celebrity, Culture, Music, Sex

Other than the gorgeous Alicia Keys, host of the 61st Grammy Awards, who has talent and is certainly charming, and Dolly Parton, a total pro—the show showcased the gutter culture that is the American music scene. We are now truly in the musical sewer.

The petulant female artists, so proud of their seized power, showcased nothing much but hip movements, pelvic thrusts and tush twerking. Not one inspiring beautiful dance did these crass stompers execute on the elaborate stage.

Janelle Monáe? Sum total of her “talent” is simulating sex on stage.

‘We need a new word to do this justice … vulvic?’ Janelle Monáe’s Pynk.

Screaming? Oh yes. Good voices? Nada. The insipid Kacey Musgraves is a two-chord whiner who makes me miss Sarah McLachlan.

Great melodies? Nothing; other than a few truly great old songs botched by the newbies’ ugly warbling: it’s the custom. Nobody learns to sing properly. For example, a screaming duo, Chloe x Halle, absolutely mutilated the exquisite, emotional song, “Where Is The Love,” performed in 1972 by Donny Hathaway and the magical Roberta Flack.

Again, not one memorable song did I hear, sporting a decent chord progression and some melodic variety; not one vaguely competent guitarist or instrumentalist: nothing.

Understandable. Why bother to acquire instrumental proficiency, instruction in composition and voice training when the swaying hips, jutting pelvises or just attitude (Dua Lipa) are what’s on sale and in demand?

I used to have some respect for Lady Gaga. But to watch Gaga, legs permanently splayed like an arthritic hooker, traipsing around clumsily, attempting to head-bang, but getting disoriented (yeah, it takes a metal-head guy to do that), then lugging microphone and mount around like a geriatrics with a walker and Depends: this was not good, to put it mildly.

The tartlets I watched “sing” at this Grammys would have been even more inaudible and tuneless were it not for the Auto-Tune: the “holy grail of recording,” that “corrects intonation problems in vocals or solo instruments, in real time, without distortion or artifacts.”

This T & A line-up would be reduced to even more embarrassing grunts, out-of-tune yelps, and bedroom whispers, if not for the Auto-Tune.

Most of the performers were G-d-awful as musicians. They sustain one or two pitches and exhibited little proficiency on any of the instruments they belabor.

UPDATED (2/9): DEM Witches: Humor Is Not Acceptable (‘Mr. Chairman, I See That Your Five Minutes Is Up’)

Comedy & Humor, Democrats, Gender, Republicans

“Mr. Chairman, I see that your 5 minutes are up,” said acting Attorney General Matthew Whitaker, a Republican, to the boss man, Democrat Jerrold Nadler, leading the House Judiciary inquisition against him.

Nadler laughed. He got the humor of being instructed (by the man who was not in charge) to wrap it up.

Whitaker took a chance to shoot back at Nadler, when the chairman’s questioning about his involvement with the Muller investigation slipped beyond the time limit for each lawmaker.

“Mr. Chairman, I see that your five minutes is up,” he said.

The room then broke into laughter as Nadler looked up with a shocked face that melted into a grin. He noted that he did not enforce the five-minute rule during Whitaker’s opening statement, then asked him to “answer the question, please.”

But Sheila Jackson Lee, joyless Democrat from Texas, was having none of the mirth. Is there a grimmer coven of witches than the Democrat women in Congress?

“Jackson Lee fired back at the perceived light-hearted comments”:

“Mr. Attorney General, we’re not joking here. And your humor is not acceptable.”

She said that Congress has a duty and a right to ask him questions, and she told him that he needs to “behave appropriately,” and she will do the same.

Jackson Lee went on to press Whitaker on if he had discussed Special Counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation with President Trump or members of his administration.

(House Judiciary Committee member Rep. Val Butler Demings (D-FL) was even scarier than Jackson Lee because so much more stupid.)

Classic: ‘Mr. Chairman, I See That Your Five Minutes Is Up’