Somewhere way back in the mists of time, I was fresh out of college and working a grunt-level desk job at a law school. It gave me a ton of time to write on the internet, which, sadly, I mostly squandered on long-winded, pseudo-intellectual introspection. Luckily, it also gave me a lot of time to READ on the internet, which, thank God, I mostly squandered on the much sharper, more insightful, and more entertaining work of hip hop blogger Byron Crawford.
Crawford (aka Bol, aka Bol Guavara MD) is what would happen if Chuck Klostermann was black, loved hip-hop, and was justifiably angry about everything from institutionalized racism to corruption in the rap industry. Which is to say, he’d still be a nerdy suburbanite teddy bear, but a nerdy suburbanite teddy bear who regularly got in internet beefs with big-time rappers like Bun B.
Oh, and also Byron is regularly ten times funnier and smarter than Klostermann on his best day.
I was going to take a quick trip down memory lane (aka Byron’s archive), to dig up some gems to make the point about how amazingly funny he is, but unfortunately his website is so full of twerking gifs and ads for Diablo 3 these days that it brought my browser to a grinding halt. So you’ll have to settle for just a couple, which it took me nearly an hour to gather:
It isn't particularly scary. Or gory. Or satisfyingly creepy. And the idea it offers — that our external realities reflect what we feel inside — is as thinly sketched and dully realized as the script for a theme park ride. Which makes As Above, So Below a kind of wet-noodle horror movie for people who aren't sure they're ready to commit to the scares of Halloween Horror Nights. (The film also happens to be released by Universal).
Ruskin crowns a tomato queen. In Plant City, young girls dream of becoming the Strawberry Queen. Up in Monticello, just outside Tallahassee, the town names a Watermelon Queen.
In Gulfport, royalty has a more reptilian feel. All hail the 2014 Gecko Queen.
At the August 23 Gecko Ball, the 2013 Gecko Queen, Faun Weaver, surrendered her crown to the new Queen, Welsey Sloat. Sloat's reign will be the second "dynasty" for the city, who first crowned a Gecko Queen in 2013.
Pierce Brosnan’s latest is an enjoyable but predictable medley of genre staples.
By Kevin Tall
on Thu, Aug 28, 2014 at 5:46 PM
Montenegro, 2008. Veteran C.I.A. spook Peter Devereaux (Pierce Brosnan), the titular November Man — nicknamed such because there was nothing living after he swept through town — is grooming up-and-coming sharpshooter David Mason (Luke Bracey) in the spy trade.
First helpful hint: “You feel the need for a relationship? Get a dog.”
It’s all about emotional pragmatism in the dangerous and solitary cloak-and-dagger world; that’s nothing new. And not getting close won’t be a problem for Devereaux and Mason after the young gun clips a kid in the line of fire after the old hand tells him not to take the shot, even at Devereaux’s own peril. So the master retires from the game and the disgraced student fades into ops unknown.
A new documentary, Persistence of Vision, delves into one of the greatest little-known tales in animation history.
By Joe Bardi
on Thu, Aug 28, 2014 at 1:39 PM
A few weeks ago, my mother-in-law happened upon a DVD while in the checkout line at a discount store, a Miramax kid-flick sampler that housed a dozen or so animated features for the low price of $3.99. How could she resist? My son, still too young to concern himself with matters of taste or quality (current favorite movie: King Kong Escapes), had been watching each of the movies, but soon became obsessed with one in particular, something called The Thief and the Cobbler. I knew nothing about it, but when your child starts looping a flick over and over again, eventually you sit down and check it out.
Featuring the voices of Matthew Broderick, Jonathan Winters and Vincent Price, The Thief and the Cobbler was about as terrible as I had imagined. That said, I quickly realized something was up. In between the clumsily drawn stock moments and terrible songs were these amazing sequences, like Walt Disney and M.C. Escher had collaborated on some long-lost Middle Eastern-themed Fantasia. What was going on here? I started Googling. Four hours later my jaw was still on the floor.
Steven Lolli's rants in Los Angeles' black comedy scene got him noticed (and hired) by Katt Williams.
Steven Lolli isn't afraid to share his opinions. The graduate of Gaither High School (who now lives in Los Angeles) makes a living sharing them on stage with no filter and a general disdain for what he sees as an unproductive status quo in comedy.
Those opinions have probably offended a few people, but it also made him a hit in predominantly black comedy clubs. It also got him noticed by Katt Williams, who promptly hired him as a writer and helped come up with his moniker, "Urban Jew."
Lolli headlines the Carrollwood Cultural Center on Saturday, and we asked him about his time in Tampa and what people can expect at his stand-up show.
In its most treacherous moments, the world of an artist is wrought with self-doubt and fear. The ability to produce, to create something out of nothing with sparse funding and support, is a daunting feat.
Andee Scott — an assistant professor of modern dance and choreography at the University of South Florida — has spent the last decade of her career challenging the personal/societal limitations that creep up on professional creatives.
Scott’s newest project, Sola, is a medley six dance solos, choreographed by women for women. Sola will make its debut at the University of South Florida on Aug. 29 at 8 p.m. and have a repeat showing on the following night. The performance will tour the United States, making stops in New York, Michigan, Texas and Vermont through the course of the next year.
Scott’s first foray into the exploration of women’s place in dance was Woman’s Work: Reconstruction of Self, which she produced while living in Austin, Texas. She commissioned five solo pieces from female dancers around the world, through personal and professional connections.
The magazine called Tampa "America's corniest town,"— its author, Jenn Pelly, who's written about the band more than once, opted for the British spelling of "favourite"and characterized lead Carson Cox as "the crooning 28-year-old frontman with old-soul charm and razor-sharp wit."
Corn is in the ear of the beholder, I suppose, and before I launch into my own diatribe, allow me to say congrats. I am genuinely happy for Merchandise and their hard-earned successes. I've always been a supporter of local bands — since the boys were still playing with their Ninja Turtles. Before my A&E gig, I interviewed local bands for TBT every week, in person (for the most part), for five years.