ColorED Commentary

Hey Gang,

Happy Hump Day!! I usually like to start off the work week with a blog, but there was nothing much to report--until today.

So, I just got back from my 11am Starbucks-procrastination run. I was gone for roughly 14 minutes. I come back to find some emails in my inbox in which our publisher (the magazine's overseer, if you will) suggests I emcee a presentation at our upcoming weekend-long painting event.

His exact description was "the painting smack-down on Friday."
Yes, a painting "smack-down."
(*Rolling my eyes so far I'm looking at my amygdala*)

This is why I like to keep personal and work life separate. After I was put on blast for being a comedian, my office thinks I'm the court jester. What they don't understand is that my humour is usually bitter, racial, sexual, and generally NSFW--even my television debut involved me cupping my own breasts!!

What's worse is that they have me teaming up with my office nemesis. I'm sure I've mentioned her. She's the newest employee who lost me the moment she wore leggings and cowboy boots on her first day of work, and goes further in the red every time she says "Have a good one!" and "bye-ya!" at the end of each day. Oh yeah, and in the morning she says "hiya!" It's like I'm talking to a hostess at Chili's. I just want to shake her and be like, "ARE YOU GOING TO OFFER ME SOUTHWESTERN EGG ROLLS FOR LUNCH??"

What's even better is that she, yet again, put my name in the running for something that I have no interest in doing. Looking back over the previous emails in the chain (that I hadn't been included in), she was first asked to emcee on her own. She writes:

"I think that’d be fun. Though I can’t promise nonstop laughs—that’s [Sojourner's] department!!"

Of course, this prompts the overseer to respond with:

"What if you and Sojourner did this together - treat it like a football game, with an analyst and a color commentator? The two of you would be fabulous!"

I think what he meant was colored commentator.

He even said in one of the previous emails, "Our emcee picture has gotten a bit middle-aged-white-guy heavy. Would you like to do the color commentary piece for the painting smack-down on Friday?"

If I had a nickel for every time things got too middle-aged-white-guy heavy, I'd have $45.30. Am I right, or am I right?

Of course, I can't say no. I'll be attending the entire weekend, and it's not like I have anything else to do at that time. I'm there on the company's dime, which means I'm also on the clock 24/7.
Of course, some of you may be thinking, "that's cool, Sojo! You can use your blackting skills at work!"
But guys, this isn't my forte. The California retiree crowd isn't exactly the blacktress' target audience. They want me to "use my skills," without actually being myself, which is pretty hard work if you ask me. What kind of jokes can I make about oil paint? I'm pretty sarcastic, and don't have the passion for art that my nemesis has--I could end up making fun of her out loud in front of hundreds of Caucasians! It could be the end of the blacktress as we know it!

I kind of want to just act really dumb, like Pepper Brooks in Dodgeball (one of my favorite films--yep, I said it.) This is the moment when Jason Bateman came back for me:



I love when he says "Ouchtown, population you, bro!!!"
There's got to be a way to bring that in to a painting "smack-down". Someone's gonna get cut with a bristle brush, I can feel it!

Oh the Thinks You Can Think (When You're Not Working)!!!

So I'm sitting here watching HANCOCK on Starz--you know, the one that came out last year with Will Smith and Charlize Theron, with a side of Jason Bateman thrown in? I saw it the first time with my mother and her latin lover, and we all agreed it was just "meh." However, one thing struck me (SPOILER ALERT!): HANCOCK is not simply an action film with a dose of humor thrown in. It's a cautionary tale against interracial love.

Seriously, this breaks my spirit, and hits home even harder after the death of MJ, who valiantly sang "if you're thinking of being my baby, it don't matter if you're black or white...."

In the movie, Will and Charlize both have special powers, and in a huge reveal, we discover they were made "as pairs. But the closer we get to each other, the more our powers diminish." They are, in essence, made weaker by being together. Their (interracial) love can never be!!!! The climax of the film involves Will leaping through the air as Charlize lies near death on a hospital bed. Only by getting farther and farther away from her does she survive her gunshot wounds. In the end, we see her with (WHITE) Jason Bateman, having their nuclear family of Caucasian love and acceptance.

Why would Hollywood do this to me? Why would Will do this to me? Charlize maybe has some South African issues, so who knows if it was this very message that drew her to the film (jk, guys, don't freak out!).

Why didn't anyone call this out earlier? I'm going to have to bring this to the attention of my peeps at CinemaBlend. Perhaps they can post a retroactive review.




Um, I have a lot of free time. Anyone want to sit on a rooftop bar and have engaging conversation?