Archive for the ‘The Guest Room’ Category

DallasPenn.Com and DutchMasters presents… COMBAT JACK At The Movies

Friday, March 9th, 2007

300

Editor’s note: There’s been a nice buzz going for the new FRANK MILLER film ‘300’ based on his graphic novel of the same title. The story is a fictionalized account of the battle or Thermopylae. The legend of story is that a small number of Spartan warriors were able to withstnd an onslaught of Persian troops long enough for Greek reinforcements to join the war and push back the Persian invaders. The story is used at academies like West Point to illustrate to cadets the strategies needed when fighting ground advances. Since this is a film that deals with the heat of battle I enlisted the help of everyone’s favorite guest blogger who knows a thing or two about the art of war, COMBAT JACK, to review the film and tell us if it is brings the fire…

300

Back in the late 1970’s, early 1980’s, other than effin’ with a fledgling new music genre now known as Hip Hop and trying to get wet with some young Brooklyn female thoroughbreds, I discovered the Michael Jordan of comics, the legendary artist/writer FRANK MILLER. Dude was a then new jack who took over one of Marvel Comics’ then worst titles DAREDEVIL (which was on the verged of being canceled) and flipped it so that thousands of kids like me who didn’t even mess with MATT MURDOCK, had us lining up like base heads for our monthly fix. After his run on Daredevil, Miller revolutionized the art form known then as comic books by revamping the history of DC Comics iconic character BATMAN, single handedly creating the media platform now known as the GRAPHIC NOVEL (which is a cooler and more mature sounding term for comic books). As a true Miller fan, I’ve since picked up and read everything that he dropped over the years (RONIN, SIN CITY, 300, MARTHA WASHINGTON, etc). Anyways, when fam Dallas Penn let me know that he had tickets for the premiere mid-nite showing of 300 in Brooklyn last week, it was a no-brainer for Combat Jack to lace up his boots and hop in a cab.

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Now out of all of Frank Miller’s work, 300, like Ronin, were what I would consider to be dude’s experimental pieces. Not whack, but different in the sense that I could give a rat’s ass about anything related to Greek history, especially in comics. Now Greek with a nice supple Latina from the Bronx, much more interesting. Anyway’s 300, the movie, is closely based on Miller’s graphic novel which tells the tale of the historic Greek Battle of Thermopylae in which King Leonidas (Gerald Butler) leads his miniscule army of 300 Spartan soldiers to fight the ginormous Persian army (like 1,000,000 + dudes, giant rhinos, ninjas, elephants and plain fucked up and deformed giants) led by its 8 foot gaylord “god” king Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro). The flick lets you know off the bat how mannish the Spartan clique is, being that their culture straight breeds warriors and if a male newborn seems a bit frail in the pants, their asses literally get chucked off a cliff to their death onto a dead baby reject pile. Anyways, the very gay Xerxes, intent on making Persia the world’s only superpower and Greece his lil’ bitch, has given the Greeks an ultimatum, “get down or lay down!” Before taking action, Leonidas decides to get council from the Ephors, leperous like mystics who keep young scantily clad hard nippled female Oracles around to determine the future of Greece, as well as the Greek council, consisting of the lesser hard body dudes, steered by slimo politician Theron (Dominic West who plays “McNulty of “The Wire” fame), both who advise the king that going against Persia is like going against an army with a handgun. Unwilling to be subserviant to any man and not wanting to get a stiffy up his batty hole from Xerxes, Leonidas gathers up 300 of his best soldiers to see exactly what the other side is made of.

300

Straight up, if you smoke weed, smoke before you see this and if you drink, then guzzle up because the effin special effects on this beast is way off the effin’ charts. Taking a cue from Robert Rodriguez’s adaptation of Frank Miller’s “Sin City”, director Zack Snyder stays true to Miller’s original work, creating a blend of live action shot against virtual backgrounds painted in muted sepia toned colors which constantly remind the viewer that this piece is based on a graphic novel. The music comes correct in that, for a period piece, what we get is a blend of classic orchestral and hard core heavy metal score. Even though 300 is based on history, the characters, and there’s a lot of effin characters, are definitely out of some comic book shit. The Spartans are all chiseled and oiled up like a Chippendale’s line up (nullus), the chicks are mad anatomically correct, all perky taa taa’d and apple bottomed, the brothers (and there’s a few jigs in the piece) are all blue black, bald headed and baritone voiced and the deformed are just plain fucked up!!!

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Now for the best part. The battle scenes are just GLORIOUS!!! Using normal time to slow motion and back to speed segments, the fight scenes are just plain brutal. Understand that this is an epic battle that took place when dudes had all types of swords, staves, spears, arrows, axes, shields and other types of medieval weaponry. What that all means is that dudes get cut. Dudes get stabbed. Dudes get hacked. Dudes get dismembered. Dudes get pin cushioned by showers of effin’ enemy arrows. Dudes get beheaded. Dudes get impaled. Man, dudes get fucked the fuck up!!! With that, like in Miller’s work, there’s no shortage of blood gushing and seeing all types of innards. You see and hear clavicles getting crunched. Getting stabbed in the eye? No effin problem! Speared through the throat? Coming right up! Want to lose the leg or the arm? Sure, why not. The cool shit about all of this though, is that contrary to how this all sounds, there’s nothing gratuitous about the full tray of carnage served with this feast. The blood comes off looking like how it’d look like drawn on paper or in a video game, once again muted and cgi’d but in a cool way and not fake looking. Plus the fact that cats are rage fighting it out FOR DAYS, face to face, up close and mad personal, the level of violence inflicted on fellow man is understandable. I also have to mention that the fight choreography on these scenes are just plain beautiful! The Greeks come off with a stiff and rigid style (nullus) when fighting in “Phalanx” formation, but flip to fluid and graceful when they disperse and break formation. Some of the scenes even reminded me of some of the early kung-fu, Shogun Assassin flicks I used to check back in the day on 42nd Street, when New York City was New York City.

300

I’ve since seen 300 twice, so I’d be remiss not to mention some of the cons. There’s a strong homoerotic undercurrent and even though Combat Jack is man enough not to be homophobic, I sometimes felt like it was way obvious that the TI’s in Hollywood wanted to lock in their gay constituency. Second, the brothers (Blacks), like everything in Hollywood today, just keep getting dissed the fuck up. Niggas straight up get no types of respect in this piece. Thirdly, although the more dramatic moments of this piece create a convincingly loving relationship between Leonidas and his kick ass and lovely Queen Gorgo (Lena Headey), the director could have saved some of the related drama scenes for his momma.

Overall, this is an over the top classic action piece flavored with strong themes of honor, glory and love. Think of it as a less epic blockbuster like GLADIATOR or LORD OF THE RINGS on acid (in a good way). If you’re into this type of shit, or if you’re looking for something different (this shit is definitely different) 300 is a mos def joint to catch. I will be looking out for this one on DVD. Out of a possible 5 lit blunt rating, 300 gets a firm 4 blunts!

Oh, and yeah Dallas…

Frank Miller > John Byrne

300

HIP-HOP (And Black America) NEED A TRIPLE BYPASS…

Monday, March 5th, 2007

bypass

Editor’s note: Our big homey 40 DIESEL is blessing us with another one of his thought provoking and heartfelt drops. This joint is so good that I’m a little embarrassed because my grind here hasn’t been as profound. Well, that’s not entirely true either, but this is a damn good drop. I may need to post a picture of 40 on the DP dot com contributor’s page. I know just the one too…

Last week ByronCrawford dot com dropped a link from MSNBC about the current demise of cRap music in regards to his 21% drop in commercial viability. The article offered up many other points of why many are becoming tuned out to the music one of the topics being the oft-beaten dead horse of cRap music imagery. While reading a popular rap message board I realized how many of the people out there dismissed this has “hating” and threw out the knee jerk “Uncle Tom” and “Coon” to these black critics of the music. Furthermore, I came across the following rant from rap nemesis and classical Negroe extraordinaire Wynton Marsalis. Wynton hates rap music (ironically his brother loves it), so his scathing retorts in the article are more than biased however…

Where as I don’t agree with all of Marsalis’ statements if you don’t see some truth in his statements than you are lying to yourself. Also, I need to take issue with the notion that hating hip-hop as a black man is some sort of “self-hatred”. The sloppy group think that has plagued black people in this country for decades has done a great disservice to the collective “blackness” and as the only real form of “unity” that we seem to exhibit has often had negative effects such as Democrats taking the black vote for granted, those mentally enslaved by the corruption of the Black Church, the foolish notion that smartness is “selling out”, and other gross fallacies that have fostered and perpetuating ignorance amongst ourselves and the reflection of a people as we attempt to move in this multi-cultural society that were are a part of whether we like it or not. We stand at the crossroads with a black presidential candidate and the only Negroe responses in the mass media wonders if “Obama is black enough” and that Negroes love Hillary because of Bubba “who many African-Americans effectionately call ‘the first Black President'”. I mean that long running inside joke has made it to ABC News Tonight as a statement of fact to buttress Hillary’s standing? Pardon me while I’m starting to openly laugh myself to tears at our media portrayal. The crab barrel has gotten arguably more shallow yet the activity continues to increase…

This leads me to say that why when a black man has some sort of critique for some other black man its labeled as “selling out” or miscontrued as a forfiture of blackness? One of the most crippling elements that is retarding the development of black society in America is the overly emotional quality that cannot take criticism. Are we still that intellectually ill-equipped that any mere challenge of thought or concept warrants immediate retalitation rather than intellectual discorse? If this is the only way that people know how handle the most minute diagreement then we have to look at ourselves and wonder where we really stand as a society. Booker T. Washington was the first to articulate the needs for the newly found freed slave to gain entre in to American society, and that begat W.E.B. DuBois who responded in kind to what he felt were the flaws of Washington’s program and created the “other school” of black thought. Whether Martin vs. Malcolm, or even the evoutionary hip-hop leap of Busy Bee vs. Moe Dee.

Some of the biggest advances in thought and ideal were made out of someone critiquing the current status quo and changes were made. Its the nature of evolution. But let me clarify “critique” and “challenge”. Not this urban action music posturing based on faux saber rattling as a last ditch effort for self-promotion. Not martyring victims of their own ignorance who paid the ultimate price to whet the corporate hip-hop “reality” appetite. I’m talking about the engaging of thoughts and ideas that created the Harlem Rennaissance, and the mutli-angled struggle for civil rights….

But alas as I see hip-hop/rap rise from the slums of a burnt out Bronx and become a multi-billion dollar industry, so how we became lax. When did they start printing out the “WE MADE IT” party invitiations because I have yet to have one. It seems we’ve settled for a trifle of “success” just because we dominate media imagery regardless what the image is? Are we protecting ourselves that much that we don’t wanna rock the proverbial boat with the fear we may lose everything? And in our quest to do so we figuratively (and some times literally) assassinate anyone who dare challenge the great world of corporate hip-hop? Well label me traitor then because we still got a long ways to go and and it starts with these artists owning up to these label execs. These dudes gotta stop being the purveyors of this bullsh*t just because some old white in a suit tells them its gonna sell. Its time to own up and man up to what MAINSTREAM rap music has become. Because I don’t wanna hear people crying in 10 years about “What happened” just like black folks seem to be losing in other aspects of our lives in America.

This ain’t about Cosby, Marsalis, Stanley Crouch, or any of them. “Suck my d*ck” and “He’s an old coon” aren’t worthwhile defenses to people who can write essays about why they think you’re wrong. Educate and arm yourself if you wanna correct this and move out of that glass house before you start chuckin’ stones. Its about a generation learning how to be men with out sacrificing our manhood. Malcolm X once said “The Nation of Islam was the greatest organization the black man ever created and n*ggers ruined it.” Sadly that’s becoming hip-hop’s veritable epitath.

Oh yeah, fuck you to them ig’nant ass bamas who think it’s fun to get toddlers blunted… But thats a whole ‘nother story…

The (white) Rapper Show = Weed Carrying 101

Wednesday, February 28th, 2007

ice ice baby

If there was anything that I gleaned from the ego trip (white) Rapper Show is that MC Serch can still bring fame to a bag holder without getting their ass kicked by Hammer’s goons.

I mean, what do you think the future holds for Shamrock or John Brown? They will be rap music footnotes as soon as the second season begins to air. Anybody remember Nikki ‘Hoopz’ Alexander? Exactly. The best chance for one of these rappers to keep his names on people’s lips will be for them to carry a bag and keep smiling. Busta Rhymes could use a new chauffeur so that’s something to think about also.

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As A Salute To Weed Carrier’s NYC field correspondent I took the assignment of attending the (white) Rapper Show wrap up party in order to celebrate the arrival of celebrity bag holding with a bang(no Tony Yayo). The dude that carried Serch’s sacks the best would be awarded with something even more valauble than a recording contract. He was going home with $100,000 dollars. That’s a whole lot of ounces of that piffy piff and you know what I’m saying. The crowd that filled the club was lively and after the broadcast of the final episode of the television show we were all hyped up for the real show.

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Persia, who was one of the most popular rappers on the show cleaned herself up and brought her bawdy ass Big Momma Cass routine to the stage. Her flow was competent and had improved somewhat since we last saw her on the show which was filmed some six months ago. I will admit that I found her attractive in a big girl kind of way. She had on some high heels that matched her belt and for a moment I considered bending her over backstage along with about three hundred or so of the other internets geeks that had climbed up from their mother’s basements to come to the show. The only thing that separated me from the geeks were the ten or twenty rounds of free Bacardi that threw back thanks to the crew from OnSmash and G.O.O.D. Records (yeah, them dudes).

ego trip

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John Brown, the runner up for the contest, was the show’s highlight but I was too tired and it was after midnight so I didn’t stay to watch him perform. Instead I caught the ego trip collective and MC Serch spit some freestyles for the crowd. Serch talked shit about people in the crowd and the clothes he had on. When he spit that shit about the Decepticons and his Timberlands the place went bananas. Well, at least one dude in there went bananas, but he was a big dude. Serch can do his freestyle thing. The ego trip collective… Not so much. Fun was still had by all. The (white) Rapper Show is a movement that you had better get in tuned with. Season 2 is on it’s way. Believe that!

A SALUTE TO WEED CARRIERS…

Thursday, January 18th, 2007

weed

If you can’t get enough of DP (and who can?) then you should head over to the website ‘A Salute To Weed Carriers’. DP recaps the year of highs and lows for those in the weed carrying game. I will agree that the name of the website is crazy, but believe it or not it’s actually safe for you to view from work.

2006 – Greatest Year Evar For Weed Carriers… And Also The Worst

JAMES BROWN’s RENT PARTIES…

Tuesday, December 26th, 2006

j.b.

Editor’s note: ERNIE PANNICOLI is one of the greatest storytellers of any generation. He is a world renowned photographer and Hip-Hop’s first and foremost image taker. ERNIE’s book titled ‘Who Shot Ya?‘ is required reading for anyone who loves Hip-Hop culture and the characters that have existed inside of it. ERNIE is one of Hip-Hop’s elder statesman and he’s someone that I listen to for advice and information. As a proper tribute to JAMES BROWN I thought that I would feature some of ERNIE’s thoughts because he was difinitely inspired by J.B.’s work.

Growing up in Brooklyn there was one thing you could count on in the late 60’s and early 70’s and that was every weekend, especially around the end of the month was a rent party. For those of you who are too young or too privileged to know what a rent party was it was simply a means to get up the rent. Usually for a couple of bucks and BYOB (bring your own bottle) the party would start around 11pm and last and last and last. It ended around dawn or earlier if there was a knife fight (usually over a woman who would leave with another man not involved in the fight) or folks were too drunk or tired to dance any longer. Most of the places, women and people are a blur to me now, but the one thing every rent party had to have was a DJ (no not a Grandmaster Flash, Grandwizzard Theodore or Grandmaster Caz, this was before Kool Herc showed us what a DJ was in Hip Hop style).

The rent party DJ’s were cats with a record player, two or three large, loud speakers and a ton of LP’s or 45’s (damn it, not the guns 45’s were small 45rpm records). And if they ever wanted you to come to another rent party in their apartment again they better have a lot of James Brown music and they better have his best known jams and they damn well better have his latest stuff. It was believed in Brooklyn at that time that James Brown did an album a month and that every album had 12 cuts and that at least 5 of the 12 were hits and at least 12 of the 12 were danceable. If you could not dance you also better get out the way or learn to dance or at least look cool trying to dance. And only the very elite, the top of the top would even try to copy any dance moves from the master himself James Brown.

This was long before MTV, BET or even music videos. Folks would go see James Brown live and in a week whatever new steps he would create would be known, copied and built upon from coast to coast. We felt sorry for people outside of Brooklyn and knew the only place that danced as good, fought as hard or had as much soul in the world was Brooklyn. We also knew that wherever James Brown was born, raised or lived his soul was from Brooklyn and the music he made was especially made for Brooklyn. I learned to make out, dance and fight in Brooklyn and the music that always seemed to be in my head was James Brown. Today Heaven just became a hipper more soulful place, right now it probably sounds like a rent party in Brooklyn. Those rent parties are why I put James Brown at the front of my book “Who Shot Ya?”