If you’re gonna remake a movie, make it with Ponceman. Then throw Cozmo onscreen with him and let the magic happen. Somebody make this movie!
Want to get the inside scoop on the Perry Brothers? Join the Mingle Mob.
If you’re gonna remake a movie, make it with Ponceman. Then throw Cozmo onscreen with him and let the magic happen. Somebody make this movie!
Want to get the inside scoop on the Perry Brothers? Join the Mingle Mob.
Let’s face it, Music, Television, Cinema, and all forms of mainstream entertainment are in the crapper.
Why? Because they are marketable. And if something is marketable, the ones who pay for the marketing will do everything in their power to find the laziest, least expensive way to market it. Sadly, this practice translates into recycled, watered down versions of something that was once great.
We went from James Brown to Chris Brown. At least when brother James beat his woman I actually gave a shit whether or not he would pull himself back together and make things A-OKAY. Why? So he could get back to being the badass performer he was. The guy lived a long, amazing life, changed music and made it okay to say “I’m Black and I’m Proud”… and made it okay to say it loud!
That said, How has Chris Brown’s “art” helped our society? It’s pretty clear that he is nowhere near being a badass at anything except for being a tremendous disappointment. When the music you create sounds like everything else that’s currently popular, you’re not contributing, you’re just adding water to the gumbo. You are just another generic, replicable artist who clearly didn’t realize how lucky you were to be in your position. A position that will most likely enable you to star on HasBeen of Love or some other lame attempt at retaining some form of spotlight. And now Chris Brown is trying to salvage his post punch-the-woman-you-claim-to-be-in-love-with-in-the-face career by launching a new tour with ALL FEMALE MUSICIANS in his band. Is this some transparent, pathetic ploy to win over some semblance of a fanbase? I lean towards a YES. The utterly tragic thing is, with good marketing, it might actually work for him.
There was a time when record labels had real A&R people. Artists and Repertoire… These were the cats that went out and found new artists and signed them to their hot, happening record label. Talent scouts. The whole goal was to find some singer or band out there that was so good you just had to share them with the whole world. And, undoubtedly, this undeniable talent would rake in the cash when their audience found them. Now the goal is to hit SXSW for all the parties and max out the expense account like a mofo. Why bother going to a show when all the “artists” on your label have never played a live gig?
What happened to top radio? What happened to music?
I am going to play snitch here and pick on two main offenders who unknowingly destroyed the need for a performing artist to have actual “talent” while they were most likely just trying to have a good time. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Poison and New Kids On the Block.
I admit, am not without sin. I sang along to tracks like Talk Dirty To Me and Every Rose Has Its Thorn. However, I never liked NKOTB. My sister did. She had every poster of every size, including an 8″x6″, life-size-New-Kids-and-their-New-Kid-crotches wall tapestry.
So what is it that’s so terrible about these bleepin’ bands that would make me so easily send them before the firing squad? Marketing.
NKOTB was an act put together for the simple act of making money. Producer Maurice Starr was not trying to create a band that would make songs that could change the world, he wanted to put together an act that would make the PHAT money. The recipe was simple in the ’80s:
That is, until the audience gets sick of them or they get too old to attract the teens. Then roll out your NSYNCS, Backstreet Boys, and so on. That’s how we ended up with the current atrocities we are plagued with like the Jonas Brothers and any other of the dozen whiny-white-boy bands that are in heavy rotation on top 40 radio. I will admit the NKOTB could dance and a couple of the guys seemed to be able to carry a tune, but the ones bands that have been created in their image don’t even have those basic skills.
And what was Poison’s main offense? They helped prove that you didn’t need real talent to sell records as long as the package was really pretty. All you need is a couple of catchy tunes, cute band members, specifically a lead singer and lead guitarist, and voila! Multi-Platinum success. Ricky Rocket, god bless him, was one of the worst “drummers” to ever attempt to beat the skins. Listen to Poison’s rendition of the Kiss classic I Wanna Rock And Roll All Night and you’ll hear the horror of his no-tempo chops. And CC Deville… I’ll just say god bless him too and leave it at that.
The record labels found a much lazier way to sell records than searching for new talent to market. In the 80’s world of Rock & Hair metal, these marketing wizards quickly realized that cute lead singers and virtuoso guitarists do not equal a great band. This formula could not magically produce hit songs, so the labels started assigning song writers to these bands to assure hit magic. Desmond Child is a nice example of the hired-gun songwriter. I will admit this cat has definitely written some good songs. However, it is pretty clear that you don’t write songs with Kiss and Aerosmith and then turn around to write songs for Cher and muthafuckin’ Michael Bolton without bullshitting one end of the spectrum. One of those two extremes is getting a real song-writer/artist in his element pouring his heart and soul into his work, and the other one is getting a dude who’s just picking up a paycheck. This kind of hired gun behavior tends to lead the hired-gun into forgetting about the whole artistry side of things all together and to simply focus on the collecting a paycheck side of things.
Speaking of Aerosmith, I’d like to point out that the hit single Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing from the hit box office movie/turd Armageddon still causes a sandwich I ate back in 1993 to come up and gurgle around in the back of my throat.
So how do you fix a bad band with cute members that can’t play worth a shit? You let real musicians play on the record. Ever see the band Jet live? Listen to the record, then listen to them live. Something does not add up.
Fortunately, Jet brings us to the issue of SHELF LIFE. The longer you keep a hit artist or band around the more money you will eventually have to pay them. So you just replace them with an equally marketable clone. Does anyone reading this blog actually even remember Jet? They were HUGE… for about 2 years. Most of the top 40 artists on the airwaves last about that long. My guess is these artists will all eventually segue into reality TV. Can’t wait for Lady GaGa of Love.
Brittany Spears, Jonas Brothers, and Hillary Duff are all little kids who were dressed up as whores to sell sex to other kids AND adults under the guise of artistry. They don’t write their own songs, they can’t sing worth a shit, and the “CDs” they have recorded will ultimately be forgotten. Want to create your own artist of this caliber in today’s market?
The only thing you need is the money for the marketing and people will go for your product. Even if they know it sucks ass.
This is my jumping off point to the current state of CINEMA. How do you make people pay to see a movie they already know is gonna suck? Don’t give them any other options.
The only thing coming out of Hollywood today is movies based on TV shows, remakes, sequels, prequels, and the latest FULL OF SHIT LABELING HOLLYWOOD HAS BRAINWASHED AMERICA WITH… THE RE-IMAGINING. Right, the Re-Imagining of a title they already own the rights to so they don’t have to pay for an original idea that they might lose money on. Why spend the dough coming up with a smart marketing campaign for an original movie when you can just let a previous incarnation (eg. 1970’s Starskey and Hutch TV Series turned unwatchable piece of crap movie) be it’s own marketing. You don’t have to market something that’s already familiar to ticket buyers. They count on you to jump into the chipper with everyone else and swallow these filmed turds as quality entertainment. Seriously people! Transformers 2??? You paid to see that shit?
Our society is being dumbed down and trained to accept lazy, half-assed crap as viable entertainment. I’ve heard many people say things like “It was better than most of the other crap that’s out there, so by comparison it was good.” If your choice is between a cancerous tumor the size of a golf ball or one the size of a grapefruit, it doesn’t matter which one you choose. You still end up with a cancerous tumor! Here’s a little fact… if you don’t pay to see the new G.I. Joe Movie they won’t make another one. But you have to commit to NOT PAYING TO SEE IT. And when indie films are mostly limited to Los Angeles, New York and a handful of other markets, it’s hard for most of moviegoing America to NOT pay to see a bad movie.
Case and point, the 2003 Hulk movie directed by Ang Lee is one of the worst cinematic puke fests I’ve ever scene. It is dumbfoundingly terrible. But people still paid to see it. EVEN AFTER THEIR FRIENDS TOLD THEM IT WAS TERRIBLE. So, what happened? Everybody knew the film was a big piece of flaming tick-shit, but it still made over 137 million dollars in theatres. And you can double that figure for DVD sales. That’s real money that was made on a giant green turd. But people paid to see it because it was marketed to death.
Which brings us to 2008 and a new Incredible Hulk movie that story-wise completely ignores the fact that only 5 years prior the Ang Lee Hulk was made. And this new Incredible Hulk, Edward Norton as Bruce Banner, Liv Tyler as hottie/hero love interest still sucked. Sure, I will easily admit that it wasn’t as bad as the other Hulk movie… but it was still fucking BAD. Cancerous golf balls can kill you!
And what has been killed? Quality. Talent. Artistry. All victims of our cultural demise. When you go to the Sundance film festival and the biggest, most newsworthy celebrity siting is Paris Hilton you know that culturally we’ve gone terribly wrong. Celebrities used to have to earn their fame and respect by being talented. All the flash in the pan, one-hit-wonders that have always been a part of this world used to just fade away. The truly talented always endured. The Bay City Rollers are now a trivia question, or at most, a guilty pleasure. But Paris Hilton? We will be plagued with her existence forever. Why? Because we fucking pay attention to her. The talentless celebrity trainwreck is fun to watch. And between the internet, the media, and reality TV we can watch these trainwrecks 24/7.
If I’m lucky enough to see a live band today who actually plays their own instruments with the talent and conviction a true musician should, I am left shellshocked. Why has seeing real music played by real artists become such a rarity? When you pay to see a comedy why are you blown away when it’s actually funny? Because the bar is so fucking low now anything that registers slightly above mediocre is now considered amazing. How pathetic is it that Hannah Montana is a measure of what passes for good writing/good music/good entertainment today? It makes me miss The Monkees. At least the Monkees could really sing and dance and knew how to make with the funny.
I fear that when the powers that be make the New-New Monkees (that’s right, they already made The New Monkees in ’87) the show stopping talent of its members will be the ability to lip sync really awesome to pre-recorded computer made music and to each do one (and only one) hella-cool dance move. The tragedy is, if they market it, people will watch. Just gotta keep lowering the bar until people don’t know what entertainment is anymore.
So why the concern on my part? Because entertainment… Music, Movies, Television… is what I live for. Aside from my family and friends they are the main things I enjoy in life. And I have found myself trying to break through to the mainstream, where the real money is, for my entire adult life. so what do you do when you realize that you are smack dab in the middle of a business you detest? When all you want to do is make movies, music, and TV shows that don’t suck but the only opportunities out there require you to sell out and make something you know will be CRAP, what the hell do you do?
We, the Perry Brothers, SAP and the mighty Ponceman, will not dumb things down. If we make a fart joke, rest assured that it will be a fart joke of the highest quality. If we make a feature it will be one that we WANT to make and not one producers sell us on based on its “marketability”. Creating “art” is the only thing that keeps us going. If the only option for success in the entertainment world is to create crap we’ll leave the entertainment world and create a world of our own where we can create our “art” without sucking the quality and soul out it for “marketability”. We’d rather raise the standards of what passes as entertainment and, hopefully, let the talentless celbrities, musicless bands, and recycled Hollywood dogshit do what it used to do… just fade away.
So where did your mind go when you read the title of this blog. Did you think sexist, racist, size-ist, folicle-ist thoughts? I can assure you that this blog pertains to exactly what is stated in the title… Tiny Bald Yellow People Sex.
When action figures/toy people are left lying about, especially at a party, you can almost guarantee they will be put into various sex positions at some point. You can definitely guarantee that cell phone pics will be taken of these toy people sex acts once they begin. And, obviously, some jackass will take those cell pics and make a friggin’ blog about the whole thing.
It always starts innocent enough. Just bring the little toy people to a party, in this case, Dirty Jenny’s B-day party at Laurel Tavern. Take one big bag of Tiny Bald Yellow People, party store purchase, super cheap, and spread them out all over the official party table. Then wait for the fun to start.
When you’ve transitioned from one-on-one foreplay into the “doin’ it” phase, in this case, oral-to-Reverse Cowgirl, you will find things liven up significantly when the GROUP option takes over. Turn your toy person sex into a 4-way and watch the action explode.
Once “the Mechanic” shows up, it’s only a matter of seconds before an all out orgy is in full swing. That’s when you start getting artsy with your camera technique.
From Barbie Dolls to Tiny Bald Yellow People, human nature dictates one simple fact… There Will Be Humping!
Me and the mighty Ponceman hit Vegas with the folks for their 39th anniversary. Stah and Bro-in-law are here too. Unfortunately, I have been out of commision, sick, at the hotel since we got here. I am hoping today will be the turning point.
ON SNOT: Honestly, how does the human head hold so much snot? It’s dumbfounding. Does the nasal passage ever screw up and direct grey matter or actual brain bits out the nose? Where does it all come from?
ON COLD MEDICINE: So, why do the cold medicines that seem to actually do something to help the cold symptoms also make you fell like a drunken Alzheimers patient. I feel wasted, dizzy, disoriented… all the possible side effects of taking the cold medicine, I got ’em. When will the Star Trek age finally hit with the gun-hypo to the neck that makes you say, “Thanks, Doc McCoy… I feel great!” And then I get the salt sucked out of my body by the last creature of its kind that looks like a chick I wanna bone.
ON VEGAS: Consumerism kills me. Maybe that’s the root of my sickness. Maybe my mind has made my body sick to avoid watching all the things that will make me sick to my stomach. My folks love playing the slots. I don’t get it, just makes me sad. Maybe I need uppers.
So, with only two days left, I am hoping to break from this hotel room and join the family for some of the fun stuff that doesn’t make me sick. I did go to dinner with them yesterday and it was nice, except for feeling like a giant snot filled turd.
Snapped this photo of Ponce at dinner. Can you guess what made him smile like this? Only two things can make him grin this way; food or girls. It was a girl. Some chick in a tropical bikini was coming around tables selling necklaces for charity. that lovely necklace Ponce is donning cost a mere 20 bucks. She also gave him a big kiss on the cheek (probably a boner too) and as she walked to the next table, mere seconds after I snapped this shot, Ponce looked at her amazing rump and upper deck areas and simply said, “DAAAAAAAAMN!
Now I’m off to a late breakfast with the family. Eating the good stuff to make me fit, crossing fingers the main bulk of the yuck is behind me and longing to veg out by the pool.
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There is a sad truth to this life we lead… we being humans, especially the ones who live in America. The sad truth is, if there is a way to make money on something there is no shortage of people to step up and take that money, regardless of how many lives it destroys. I will not name names and point fingers, but all you have to do is look at the guests who appeared at the MJ Staples Center tribute. It isn’t hard to pick out who was there for exposure (exposure=career resurrection/money) and who was there because they truly cared.
I will point a positive finger at Magic Johnson, a game-changing legend in his own right, who was there ONLY to share his love of MJ. And a sweet new view of Brooke Shields has settled in my heart after hearing her talk about her relationship with Michael. It reminded me that Michael Jackson was not from this planet.
Michael Jackson was in the spotlight since he was 5 years old and had all the perks that go with that spotlight. It’s like being born a king… a king who has to perform, has to produce something the people like, or you lose his crown. Michael Jackson performed better than anyone on this planet. He was never one of US.
US=you and me=U.S.=United States.
There are no more icons. The word itself will have no meaning soon, just like “Diva” before it. The American people, the ones who feed the tabloid media, the ones who thrive on watching celebrities torn apart to the point of death, have destroyed art, artists, and the spirit of creativity. There are no new Michael Jacksons out there because TALENT is no longer required for one to be a superstar. TALENT is a ghost of the past. Who needs TALENT when you have an endless supply of hot teens and pre-teens the entertainment business can dress up to prance around playing Rockstar. Rockstar… is that a drink or a video game? There’s another world that has been castrated. There are no balls left in that word. Just an empty sack of use-to-be-testosterone-filled-power. All the “rockstars” of today are disposable, with shelf lives of 2 to 5 years… if they are lucky.
I am here to spill the harsh reality of life without art to the ones who have given power to the TALENTLESS. Nobody will care when today’s “artists” die because the ones the entertainment business has promoted have created NO ART. When Lindsey Lohan leaves this life the only contribution that will be brought up is… I can’t think of one. She was in a remake of The Parent Trap. And did a lot of drugs and showed her snatch and is/isn’t a lesbian whenever the wind blows. There. That’s her legacy. There will be no Staples Center memorial service for The Jonas Brothers either. Boo Fucking Hoo.
At least when Michael Jackson was torn apart by the media and rabid masses of our American culture, he had an actual legacy to protect. A legacy that was damaged beyond repair. But nothing can erase the impact Michael Jackson had on lives… human lives… lives of the people on this planet that he was never from. My life, the life of my brother, sister, my parents, friends, were all affected by Michael Jackson’s talent. He was a performer that could unite the entire world, as he did on more than one occasion. We Are The World… If you don’t know what it was, and I don’t mean just the song, then google that shit.
Which brings us to our tribute video. It will NOT be in the YouTube partner program. That’s one way that YouTubers can make money, they get a small percentage of the advertisements Google places on their video pages. Our video will not be part of that program. Why not? Because we did not make the video to make money. We made it because we love Michael Jackson and want to express it the best way we can. Imagine that; a Tribute video made to pay Tritbute. Tribute to MJ for all the reasons I’ve mentioned and many more. TRIBUTE… another word that will soon have no meaning. Maybe Coca Cola or McDonald’s will sponsor the next big celebrity wake so we can all mourn and pump a McTurd buger into our bellies at the same time.
All the people in our tribute video have their own special connection to MJ and his music. Dirty Jenny, our friend who plays guitar in the video, played on the MJ Track Stranger In Moscow. She was mentored by David Williams whose guitars you hear on almost every Michael Jackson hit. Jenny was all set to do the big HBO live gig in 1995 that Michael had to cancel due to “health” issues. These issues happened to coincide with the return of child molestation charges and a new media hunger to tear him apart. That’s what sold more papers, made more headlines, and made more people tune in so the advertising dollars could go higher and higher.
My brother, the mighty Ponceman, and I used to perform the song “State of Shock” off the Jackson’s Victory album, duet with Michael and Mick Jagger. We’d perform it every time it came on the radio. We’d set up special performances of it for whatever audience we could assemble. I was 14, Ponce was 6. We grew closer to each other with every performance. Why? Because the music was that good. It made us move. It made us dance, sing, and feel like we could conquer the world. And we still perform it to this day. This video is the culmination of all those past performance.
So when we post our video on Friday, try to empty your minds of all the negatives this world has thrown at MJ and sit back and let the music take you away to a time when performers made news and got ratings, not because of a drug overdose or domestic abuse or some other scandal, but because of one simple little thing historians will soon attempt to explain to future generations who don’t grasp the concept… a little thing known as TALENT. Michael Jackson had it and the business world of entertainment chiseled it away.