This is how you make an MTV Movie Awards spoof, kids

Don't ask me why I'm looking up MTV Movie Awards parodies, just enjoy this clip from their golden era:



God I miss those ladies.

My Oprah, Myself

Did you know that when Oprah was born her mother meant to name her Orpah, after the minor Old Testament figure from the Book of Ruth? Oprah was and is a typo. Whoever handled her birth certificate in the small town of Kosciusko, Mississippi typed it incorrectly and I like to think that accident made all the difference in the world. Can you imagine The Orpah Winfrey Show? I believe Orpah is a class of whales or what Greek people shout when they have indigestion.

The singular 'o' syllable that precedes the soft, breathy 'prah' sound is infinitely more melodic than the harsh combination of 'or' and 'pah.' While it seems insignificant, the placement of the 'r' is crucial to the cadence because I doubt anyone born with the word "or" as the first syllable of their name would become a singular multimedia legend. Or-what? She isn't a choice, she just is. Most importantly: can you imagine me as Schorpah?

This little clerical error is really a perfect metaphor for the modern deity that is Ms. Oprah Winfrey: a happy accident that transformed into something bigger and more meaningful than the starting players could ever imagine. Oprah is one of the few ubiquitous American personae on whom we project our feelings—and by we I mean ladies because we're all emotional left-brainers n' shit—like Hillary (mother issues), Bill (adultery), Madonna (aging), George W. Bush (Christianity), the nation of China (fear of change), or Gwyneth Paltrow (entitled whiners who, to quote Ann Richards, were born on third base but believe they hit a triple and, to quote myself, people who resemble bean sprouts in personality and appearance).

Where was I? Right, projection. Most or all of these people have been guests on her show, but Oprah is the reflecting pool of how we view them in a larger context of celebrity, spirituality, television, and sometimes, ourselves. Most of us Blerganistas don't remember a time when there wasn't an Oprah show. I certainly don't, which makes me sad for the chilluns born after, like, 2004 who won't remember a time when you could come home from school and then learn something. Some of the Oprah Show topics I remember watching alongside my 13-year-old after-school babysitter, who was probably first learning about them too: late-in-lesbians, father-son incest, and John F. Kennedy Jr. All things I had never heard anyone talk about but I knew existed. As you might have guessed from reading this blerg I spent EIGHT YEARS in parochial school (that's two full presidential terms) so you can imagine what a service Oprah did for me. Please don't tell my grandmother this—you know who you are—but I've gotten more lessons from Her show than I've ever gotten in church, probably because Oprah doesn't damn us to hell for being who we are.

You can criticize Oprah all you want and we know what's been said—she's materialistic, she's too obsessed with being thin, she thinks she's Jesus, her magazine covers are Reading Rainbows of airbrushing—but there won't be anyone like her for a long time. I don't want to politicize her, but when a 50-something black woman from the South WHO TALKS OPENLY AND FREQUENTLY ABOUT WHAT IT IS TO BE A WOMAN is taken seriously all over the world by the rich and the poor... this is not to be underestimated, ever. It's part of why I'll miss the show, just because no one else can do it. You think Rachael Ray is going to talk about alcoholic mothers or have Gloria Steinem on her show? Do you want to watch Rachael Ray talk about alcoholic mothers or have Gloria Steinem on her show? There is The View, but what a circus... 

Some nice commenter once asked me how I "created" the name Schoprah and I waited until this very moment to reveal it. Ha! Not really, but it's going to make a nice narrative arc! A friend and I started a book club four years ago and I'm proud to say it lasted consistently for two full years, albeit with varying degrees of membership loyalty. One day I was writing an email to the group, highlighting our obvious similarity to Oprah's Book Club devotees and straining to be clever. Many people refer to me by my last name because quite simply, it's an awesome name to say, and as I typed the first three letters of it—S-C-H—I was interrupted by a work matter. Rude. I returned to the email and forgetting where I was, pasted the last word I'd copied: Oprah. S-C-H-oprah. It was... a happy accident.

Shortly thereafter a blog persona was born and an ego blossomed. Maybe I'll expand into other mediums like Her. I can figure out how to make a podcast, right? And it shall be called The Schown Network.

You're Putin me on

A blogger for Outdoor Life recently scored an interview with the ugly-hot Vladimir Putin, on whom he had a man crush. Uh, blogger, join the club. The "prime minister" of Russia who is NOT a tyrant and rules the former Soviet Union with 100-proof democracy agreed to the interview in an apparent attempt to soften his image in the West.

I would like to remind the man who puts the B in KGBuff that I have long been an admirer of his extracurricular activities not involving the orchestration of Chechnyan journalists' murders. Schoprah is available for interview!

Enjoy this clip of Newt Gingrich being doused with glitter in Minnesota

At least it wasn't a handgun, right? (I'm telling you, this guy is a mess. He doesn't stand a chance.)

Things you can read to avoid work this afternoon

Awesome former Jezebellian Maureen "Moe" Tkacik wrote a hella piece on International Misogyny Freak Dominique Streudel-Kunt and why it's not just Euros who overlook rapey-rape. (Reuters Blog)

Beyonce's new video is characteristically Beyoncian. "My persuasion can build a nation" was Golda Mier's campaign slogan, right? (Slate's Browbeat)

Just found a slammin' new blog, The Crunk Feminist Collective, thanks to my old gallionaire Patty. Go, read it. Expect frequent linkage.

A new word to help gentlemen behave themselves

With all the recent news of European men unleashing their wangs on innocent ladies (though clearly men of all nations are guilty of this, the IMF dude and Ahnuld are getting most of the attention), perhaps they ought to look into something called "dicknity." This mantra is what you should repeat to your self when you feel the urge to have sex with a woman you shouldn't be having sex with, for whatever reason. Show your penis some dicknity, men, and you might not "end up in jail" or "abuse social norms" or "lose your job" or "lose your wife" or "not have general respect from humans."
.
Here's an example of how you can use it: "While I find myself very attracted to you, I must show some dicknity and keep it in my pants."

It's really not that difficult to keep yourselves from raping and harassing if you just show a little dicknity. I hear John Edwards had it tattooed on his wrist.

Tegan and Sara verus Tyler, The Creator and its implications for liberal white girls who love awful misogynistic rap

Forgive the Sociology 101 term paper title, but there is major internet beef between the white Canadian duo Tegan and Sara and black rapper Tyler, The Creator. It's so serious and Twittteriffic the beef has been elevated to grass-fed sirloin. Tegan and Sara, one of those bands that's blasted throughout Urban Outfitters, posted a message on the band's site addressing the misogynistic and homophobic lyrics by Odd Future's ringleader Tyler, The Creator. She accuses other artists and The Media of turning a blind eye to his hateful rhymes. Tyler COMMA responded with this cute Tweet: "If Tegan and Sara need some hard dick, hit me up!" Which misses the point, Tyler COMMA, being that they're lesbians and all. (Or at least Sara is.)

This is basically a giant caca-filled pinata. There are underlying elements of race, sexuality, patriarchy, class, musical tastes, age, the internet... Eiiiggghhhnn. Enough people go at it this thing and we're all covered in shit. So let's get the party started!

Sara is right: Tyler COMMA's lyrics are hateful shit. If anyone said his lyrics to my face, I'd slap them—with a lawsuit. I'd slap them with a lawsuit so fast their jeggings would fall down. The when I won, I'd slap them for real and pay for bail with my lawsuit money. So why doesn't it bother me when Tyler and rap artists like him sing the awful words?

Because I'm still missing the Kentucky Derby, here are my odds for the Republican presidential nominees

Huckabee, in a move everyone saw coming, said he wouldn't run for President. Well der. This opens himself up nicely for a VP slot, because Huckabee knows goshdern well he couldn't get his $hit together for a serious run against President Obama, nor does he want to, probably. Huckabee is always the NHS Historian, never the Prom King. Fun fact: Schoprah was NHS Historian.

Not only because of our many similarities, I always kind of liked him. He is a giant bigot and we disagree on almost everything, but he seemed at least civil and polite and interested in what his opponent was saying, unlike Newt Gingrich, who is smug and disinterested. Which is why women will not vote for Fig Newt: the idea of boffing him is cringe-inducing and he looks like the boss who'd give the raise to the guy in your office who spends all day looking at pictures of the WWF. Not to mention the whole going through wives like ties thing. Good luck with that in Iowa and South Carolina, bitch. 

My money is still on Jeb Bush for a bottom-of-the-ninth announcement. He can raise bank quickly, and killin' Osama did one thing for the Republican base: it only reminded them how much they miss Bush II. Plus his wife is Eh-thpanish—bienvenido al GOP, Latinos—he's always wanted it, and this family is power hungry in a way that makes the Kennedys look passive. Who wouldn't want to set a new history-making record with three Bush administrations? Just 40%-60% of the country. 

Friend of Blerg Andrew bet me $5 bet that Palin will announce her candidacy. Answer this: which end of the spectrum is she closer to in her career, present-day Kate Gosselin or 1979 Ronald Regan? I think we know who'll get the $5.

And I think everyone who is not Tim "Yertle the Turtle" Pawlenty (R-Pound Puppies) agrees that Tim "Yertle the Turtle" Pawlenty (R-Pound Puppies) has a zero chance of winning for reasons obvious to everyone but him. Same with Mittard Romneystein, architect of the unholy French liberal "health care for everyone" bill when he was governor of Marxachusetts. When you renounce access to basic medical care for your fellow Americans in such a vocal way, you're basically saying: I want to watch you die. Also, WASPs are terrified of your kind and the 2002 Olympics would've happened with or without you because they're the Olympics, so have fun with that.

My odds

Gingrich: 9-1
Palin: 18-1
Pawlenty: However many Pound Puppies there were-1
Romney: 11-1
Governor of Hoosierland Who's Only Known For His Wife Situation: 7-1 
Jeb Bush: 3-2
Marco "Juan F. Kennedy" Rubio (R-FL): 69-1
Herman "Not Little Caesars" Cain: 200-1
And just because he tries so hard, Ron Paul: 400-1

Happy trails, Republican'ts!

It's the Lord's day, so let's listen to Jesus-inspired sitcom theme songs!

Why go to church or TV church when you can listen to this collection of sitcom theme songs that give a nod to the almighty, or at least sound like church songs? The ten songs are about the same length as a children's mass, about 30 minutes for you heathens. Let's clap our hands, PTL, and remember a different world:

1. The Amen theme certainly does shine on:


2. There is no place like 227, child:

Things I read on the Internet today when I was supposed to be working

Qaddafi is also your ex-boyfriend: Qaddafi in ‘a Place You Cannot Reach’ (NYT - The Lede)

Yalie McFakesIt at an event to support the wounded soldiers he's responsible for wounding while wearing a Finish Line uniform: George W. Bush Gives First Public Reaction to Osama Bin Laden Death (ABC News)

You knew this was coming hehehehehehe: Osama Bin Laden Porn Stash? Pornography Discovered At Compound: Report (Huffington Post via Reuters; BLOG POST OF HIS PORN TITLES IMMINENT! In the meantime, enjoy the Tiger Woods post from 2009)

Single straight ladies, here's to the weekend

The "Nothing New To Say So Don't Even Try" List

Are you tempted like me to ruminate right now on Justin Bieber or Spuds McKenzie or Mamie Eisenhower but then stop yourself because you realize that every joke, snark, yokel, tweet, meme and status update has covered everything that you could possibly say about them? (By the way these three are my Boff, Marry, Kill, in that order.)

There's a point for every topic whereupon there is just nothing new or clever to say, even if The Media continues to shine its attention on it. That's why I created a helpful list so you can avoid making jokes or insights that have already been said or written. This will be a running list, as new people become famous all the time and animals will be used to sell beer forever.

Also please note the "Nothing New To Say So Don't Even Try" List is not a measure of oversaturation or exposure; these things are unrelated. Justin Bieber will continue to release albums and shill crap and The Media will cover it, but there won't be anything new to say about him. Even if Bieber goes on a coke bender and shoots someone (whose to say he hasn't already), no one will say anything about him that hasn't already been said. I just wrote that Bieber went on a coke bender and killed someone. See what I did there?

Now on to the list!

Didn't she almost have it all?

Oh Whitney. Back on the sauce. Where do broken hearts and livers go? To the Betty. For one moment in time a few months ago, things we're looking up for you. You had ditched the loser husband—he was not all the man that you need—you recorded a new album, and you cleaned yourself up for Oprah. And now... It's not right, but it's okay.

You told Oprah after the first rehab—I'm paraphrasing—"I didn't know my own strength," and I looked to you for some new jams like the ones from the "My Love Is Your Love" days. I loved that album. As a teen resident of the Heartbreak Hotel, you were Queen of the night. Coping with heartache, I learned from the best. I would've paid a million dollar bill for that CD.

But the bottle won. I'm sure it's hard being you, losing the fame and watching your life spin out of control. Every day was probably one of those days. Though I will always love you, how will I know when you're really committed to sobriety? I think you need to take a few deep breaths, exhale (making sure to shoop shoop), and get in touch with the greatest love of all, your talent. Oh, and Bobbi Kristina. She's your baby tonight and forever.

So don't say "I have nothing." You'll be back on top. You are every woman—it's all in you. Your fan Schoprah and countless others know there can be miracles when you believe. I'm saving all my love for you, Houston.

Like me on Facebook!

I'm not trying to sound all Koresh-y, but I really need you to follow me on the Zuckerberg Bible.

This music video is dedicated to Pippa Middleton, the weekend

She is the best thing to happen to the British monarchy since disco balls and ceasing to inbreed.

My Grandmother could tell you everything the United States needs to know about working with Pakistan

Ding dong Osama is dead. Now everything is fine and we have 9/11 closure. Except... there's still a few hundred thousand angry, unemployed young men in the Middle East with nothing to do but plot the next 9/11 or overthrow their country's dictatorial regime. (I'm hoping for the latter. Go Syrians!) But seeing as Pakistan is like your schizophrenic great aunt with a vial of plutonium in her purse instead of a flask, it's in the interest of the United States to "support" her stability because if she goes off her meds, there could be crazy terrorist shenanigans. And yet the United States Congress keeps paying Pakistan inordinate amounts of money and expecting them to "tell us where terrorists live" and "be nicer to India." 

Then why is everyone including Jon Stewart pissed about Pakistan's "failure to tell the truth" about Osama Bin Laden's whereabouts in light of his recent "crossing of the stream?"* I almost always find myself seeing the light of the always fantastic Mr. Stewart, however feeling duped that Pakistani intelligence knew all along about OBL's Real Housewives of Abbottabad lifestyle is like being pissed when you pay your kid to clean your house and they do a half-ass job.[ NEW METAPHOR ALERT.] Why would they do a good job? You're paying an 11-year-old who doesn't remember to put lid back on a jar of peanut butter to maintain a standard of hygiene that you want—and you're paying them! They're not going to dust inside the corners or individually wash the leaves on the ficus plant with soapy water.

You give a country like Pakistan—whose current president, Bhuttolicious widower Asif Ali Zardari, is known with solemnity as "Mr. Ten Percent" and with affection as "Mr. Twenty Percent"—enough foreign aid based on their job performance at catching terrorists and what do you expect? To Pakistan, it's payola: we give them our yearly 3.2 billion "chore allowance" and they offer up a few C-list Al-Qaeda members to appease us. Pakistan would never have turned over Osama, nor will they make a serious effort at halting terrorism as long as we keep paying them to play. There's no incentive to find and turn over serious terrorists because then, the gravy train stops. Never mind Pakistan's inherent political corruption and socio-economic infrastructure that makes our disparate class system look as Utopian as Kate Middleton's wedding... We ain't going to solve that shiz.

So USA, let's take a playbook from my grandmother, who did not inform me she was going to pay me until I'd hand-washed every single leaf of the enormous ficus plant with warm water and Dawn: instead of giving Pakistan an advance every Congressional fiscal year, pay them when they've done the work. And don't remind Pakistan all the time that they're that necessary (we have Yemen to shower with affection); they can get your dogooder cousin to do the job for free. And that is how you deal with people with no incentive to do a job you want to do but can't and you pay them. Unless you go in and actually do the job yourself, but unfortunately there aren't enough Navy Seal grandmothers to go around.  

* I recently saw Ghostbusters for the first time!

Koran typo: Osama Bin Laden gets 72 Virginians in heaven...

And Thomas Jefferson just rolled over in his grave!

Blamo! Zombie Founding Father necrophilia buttsex and Islamic fundamentalism in one joke. Top that Twitter! Don't forget to tip your waiter.

So are you sick of Osama Been Laid In Heaven jokes yet? So am I. NOT. There were some good jokes about the Ay-rab Hitler Obama—foxnewsme—Osama Bin Laden on the internet today, which I think means we're not ready to let him go just yet. Some of us might be in "denial" that he's really dead because the idea that America doesn't have a mortal enemy anymore is kind of... sad, right? Who are we going to distill our pure grain hatred into delicious booze rage now? Qaddafi? He is the Paula Abdul of dictators. Wait, that was redundant. Qaddafi didn't annihilate thousands of Americans and innocents, at least that I'm aware of, so less tragedy equals less funny. Who is going to fill our hate flask? As we move through our grief, let's cope with Schoprah's favorite Osama jokes of the day:

Best when listening to Toby Keith, ironically:
So then, the Americans have the right idea. If you kill everybody in the Middle East, one of them is BOUND to be bin Laden... (Sickipedia)

Best Week Ever needs new copywriters:
"Seth Meyers' Strangely Topical Osama Bin Laden Joke" (Best Week Ever. I honestly thought the headline's punch was 'it's strange that Seth Meyers made a topical joke.' )

5/1/11 is the cracker Katrina:
"I've never seen this many white people riot before." (Neutral Traffic Jams)

This one goes out to my Dad who once said the Middle East should be turned into a parking lot for Asia (and later retracted):
Three guys, a Canadian, Osama Bin Laden and Uncle Sam are out walking together one day. They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it. "I will give each of you one wish, that's three wishes total," says the Genie. The Canadian says, "I am a farmer, my dad was a farmer, and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada." With a blink of the Genie's eye, 'POOF' the land in Canada was forever made fertile for farming. Osama Bin Laden was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around Afghanistan, so that no infidels, Jews or Americans can come into our precious state." Again, with a blink of the Genie's eye, 'POOF' there was a huge wall around Afghanistan. "Uncle Sam" (a former civil engineer), asks, "I'm very curious. Please tell me more about this wall." The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 15,000 feet high, 500 feet thick and completely surrounds the country; nothing can get in or out -- virtually impenetrable." Uncle Sam says, "Fill it with water."
(About.com forgetting that water is scarce in Afghaniston)

Butterflies can survive in hellish heat, Jimmy Kimmel:
"I really hope Bin Laden didn't get reincarnated as one of Mariah Carey's babies." (Jimmy Kimmel)

Let's assume Iraqis will cheer when George W. Bush croaks:
"BREAKING: US TERROR ALERT LEVEL RAISED TO "CONFETTI."(Movingsideways via Twitter)




Americans obviously deserve to sleep in peace the MOST of anyone on earth. And yet in all seriousness I really do love this song. It damn near brings me to tears. Rot in hell, bitch.