This is a performance by Kseniya Simonova, the winner of the 2009 Ukraine’s Got Talent. Get a load of this genius:
The American translation of Kseniya Simonova, in both name and title, is Kevin Skinner, the 2009 winner of America’s Got Talent. Get a load of this yokel:
Conclusion: America doesn’t have talent. Her performance is inspiring, groundbreaking, unique. His could take sixth place at a regional karaoke competition. There is an ocean between Kseniya and Kevin in both geography and talent.
And since I’ll probably never mention this show again, let me take a minute to address the judge’s panel. They’ve got David Hasselhoff, a man whose talents are only recognized in Germany; Sharon Osbourne: A Brit known only for discovering the excessively interesting and modestly talented Ozzy Osbourne; And the other guy: Who seems to be American but has evidenced no discernible talent.
I’m not sure any of these people could make a jury on talent, let alone a judgeship. I respect their judgment about as much as I respect the awful careers that led them here. Which maybe explains why they would give the top talent prize to an atonal, Animatronic inbredneck. America really does have talent. It’s just that, as a nation, our greatest talent is the ability to sell out ANYTHING. Ukraine’s version had greater talent but ours got better ratings and thus sold more Cheetos to fat, untalented people.
We sold out talent, y’all. What’s next? Sending Special Olympians in 2010? And we wonder why no one respects us anymore.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
I swapped stories over booze and pancakes with these very cool dudes from Range Life Entertainment on Saturday night and I feel both honored and obliged to inform you about them on this our Re-Post Tuesday. Here’s the gist, from the horse’s mouth:
“Range Life Entertainment takes awesome movies, adds awesome parties, plus awesome filmmakers, and then tours them across America. Why? Because we can. And because we like movies. And because we like America. But mostly because we like you. That’s right, even though we don’t know you, we got a good feeling about it. So come check out a screening, stay for an after-party, and meet your new best friends. Cause we’re eating all your pizza and sleeping on your couch anyways.”
They’re in LA for the rest of the week screening movies downtown and I think, as an enjoyer of fine people and supporter of independently produced art, you should enjoy and support this. If you live in Lala, click here for info on their week amongst us. If you don’t live in LA, well, the van will probably stop in a city near you sometime soon.
When we support events like these we give power to artistry while removing it from industry. Film doesn’t need to validated by men in suits analyzing demographic profiles. We can give in to an art-as-business world of bureaucracy that stifles creativity or we can encourage those brave enough to tackle massive creative pursuits on their own, out of sheer love for the endeavor. If you made an independent something you would want guys like Range Life Entertainment backing you. I encourage you to show love to some people who already have.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
Can you identify this man? His name is Lula Da Silva and he is President of Brazil. You could be President of Brazil too if you had a name as cool as Lula Da Silva. Here in America our executive officers have names like Barack Obama and George Washington and Lungbutt Fishfartytrousers. Dumb, boring names. If the next set of wars involve control over the world’s cool names Brazil will be our first target.
Get a load of some of the awesome names in Lula’s cabinet. You know how communication is all gay and everything? Well maybe we wouldn’t feel that way if Helio Costa was in charge of it. You know how justice is a farce and everything? With Tarso Genro as its chief executioner, I think not. And you know how agriculture is all lame and everything? Not with Reinhold Stephanes behind the plow. Now it’s cool as the other side of a cucumber. A cucumber that Reinhold Stephanes farmed. That’s a doubly cool cucumber!
If your Chief of the Civilian Household of the Presidency was Dilma Rousseff maybe…Actually, Dilma Rousseff isn’t a very cool name at all. Is that a man or a woman? And what the hell is a Chief of the Civilian Household of the Presidency? I think that might be a butler. Or head butler. Like, the butler who gets his own butler. Yeah, that’s it. Not a bad gig this Chief of the Civilian Household of the Presidency.
The cool names don’t quit with politics. The NBA has Brazilians like Leandro Barbosa and Nene Hilario. Nene Hilario! If that doesn’t mean hilarious baby then I don’t know Português. By the way, I don’t know Português, even though I was born there. Also, I was not born there, though I visit quite frequently. Except that I’ve never been to Brazil. Big fan of Brazil, Terry Gilliam’s dystopian sci-fi classic. Though, technically, I’ve never seen it. At least not with my eyes. But I got nothing but love for those Brazil nuts. Eat ‘em all the time. What? I do! Are you calling me a liar?! Where is this accusation coming from?!
I’ll leave you with one last name: Fab Melo. He’s the next blue chip basketball prospect from Brazil, slated to attend Syracuse University on scholarship. Rescind the offer, Syracuse, because that name is entirely too cool for school. Even a school with a name as cool as Syracuse. Fab Melo marks the limitations of the cool name rule. The trajectory goes cool name…Cool Name…COOL NAME…carbonated beverage. Fab Melo sounds like a soft drink, and one that Mountain Dew will drive off the market in a single promotional run. So, respectfully, we’re going to decline Fab Melo and his excessively cool name here in America.
Brazil, please send your head butler to come get him.
My name is Ben and I blogged this.
Blogging atcha live from Pismo Beach, California – Surfing capitol of…San Luis Obispo County. It’s more impressive than it sounds. On a weekend getaway by myself, doing all the things I normally do at home, but in a hotel room. The literal translation of the word “vacation.” Suck it beautiful beaches and sunsets!
Just finished a barbecued feast courtesy of Mo’s Smokehouse, award-winning rib rubber and tri-tipper. Famous to the “world” for some of the finest smoked ribs in America, they are famous to me for the Killer Garlic Fries. Only time can tell whether or not these garlic fries actually kill me. I can say currently that they are the most garlicky thing to ever NOT kill me. It’s taking over my other senses. All I can hear is garlic. My essence is fumigating the hotel. The woman I seduced told me my semen even tasted like garlic.
That was a joke. She was a prostitute. I didn’t seduce anyone. I told her, while she was playing Name That Food, I was getting irretrievably limp. This hurt her feelings, so I garlic-jizzed on a couple chicken schwarma pitas and gave them to her as a tip. Gross, I know. Edible gratuities are so tacky.
There are two main reasons to order the Killer Garlic Fries at Mo’s: The first is that they are delicious. The second, they ward off mouth vampires. If you can find a delicious way to ward off mouth vampires, you try it. Those are general reasons, but there are situations where these fries can come in handy also. If an undesirable is trying to kiss you, Killer Garlic Fries will acts as a loud and unmistakable nugatory. Or, if you’ve taken a vow of no kissing, as many kids are doing nowadays, it can prevent menacing temptations from entering into play. No one will want to enter your field of play after a few bites of killer garlic! But again, on top of all these reasons, the fries are delicious and that’s the best excuse of all.
If you’re keeping score at home, I am on a vacation, alone, sitting in my hotel room, eating meat and carbs in my underwear and blogging about it. I forgot to mention that I’m in my underwear (as if you hadn’t guessed it). Did I really need to leave home for this? Yes. Yes I did. To me, this is the perfect getaway. You’ve got your methods, I’ve got mine.
My name is Ben and this blog is kind of like a postcard.