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Misery Pimpin’: Prologue April 22, 2010

Posted by Skippy in Black folks, Culture, Humor, Popular Culture.
Tags: , , , ,

So last night, Nightline aired the “Why Can’t A Successful Black Woman Find a Man” misery-fest. I didn’t watch it, as I was busy sleeping. But thanks be to the Interwebz, the one-hour shitfest is preserved in all its ignominious buffoonery–including the question and answer session!

Y’all, I’ve tried to watch this. I’ve tried several times now to start watching this, but I find myself muttering, “Just shut up, you dumbass!” and hitting the pause button. I want to recap this for you and add my own remarks. I really do. However, the few minutes I’ve seen are so full of full-on stupidity, that I fear for what’s left of my sanity should I watch the entire thing.

A few highlights from the five minutes I’ve seen:
* Sherri Shepherd saying that she wants a man who will help her take out her weave. Why doesn’t she marry RuPaul?
* Some lame-ass “author” I’ve never heard of in a too-tight fugly T-shirt and jeans (he couldn’t have been arsed to put on some slacks and a nice shirt? I dress better than that when I go to Wal-Mart!) saying some dumb shit about something.
* Hill Harper is foine and all, but I really don’t want to hear him say diddly about relationships. He’s the Kevin Powell of this generation–saying a lot, but really ain’t saying shit.
* Some fool in the audience who is playing to the camera starts blathering about “what Black men want.” Shut up and read some critical theory, you overdressed dandy. This ain’t a damn job interview.

Anyway, ABC has graciously posted the whole video…in ten parts. They’ve even included subtitles for each part! How kind of them.

Part 1: Sherri Shepherd and Jimi Izrael battle it out over standards and wigs.
Me: REALLY?? Wigs? Who the fuck cares about wigs? Oh, god, I hate you people.

Part 2: Hill Harper argues that misinformation is destroying the black families.
Me: Was this supposed to be self-referential?

Part 3: Izrael says that women need to set some standards when picking a mate.
Me: Wow. I’ve totally misjudged you based on such a stunning argument. Clearly, underneath that too-tight T-shirt, crappy beard and ugly pair of jeans lies the mind of a giant!

Part 4: The topic of fidelity brings out personal testimonies by the panelists.
Me: You know what this means. The women will go on about how some dude done them wrong and how they missed all the signs. It’ll probably sound a lot like Kelly Price’s “Friend of Mine” but less interesting.

Part 5: Steve Harvey argues that men aren’t ever intimidated by female success.
Me: Why the hell is this fool saying ANYTHING about male/female relationships? Seriously.

Part 6: Both sides offer different views on interracial encounters.
Me: “Encounters”? What the damn–? This isn’t “Race Trek: The Next Miscegenation,” you idiots!

Part 7: A past encounter between two panelists brings the audience to their feet
Me: Eyeroll. This sounds like some old minstrel shit.

Part 8: Panelists share their final thoughts as the audience prepares questions.
Me: I wish that I had been there. I’ve definitely got a question or two for them.

Part 9: Audience questions and comments push the panel to their breaking points.
Translation: a couple of panelists got told.

Part 10: Steve Harvey offers final thoughts as the Face-off comes to a close.
Me: Again: why the are you saying anything, Steve Harvey? You are a comedian. And not a terribly funny one at that. You also had a television show in which you–YOU–got the finest woman on the show to “fall in love with you” and put up with your tired, sexist wisecracks, none of which were in the same galaxy as “funny.” Of course, it’s television, so anything can happen there.

So here’s the deal: I’m going to watch this crap this weekend and take notes. I should have a post detailing this racist, sexist trainwreck and the eventual suicide note that I will write after watching this. Of course, Netflix also sent me Tyler Perry’s “I Can Do Bad All By Myself,” so this weekend should be chock full of Black misery!*

*I don’t know why I put that in my Netflix queue. I think I figured that since I was paying for the service, I might as well get TP’s crappy oeuvre out of the way.



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