One of the main functions of the media in society is to go sniffing around the bums of celebrities like cheap lapdogs. Like “OOoh! You were in that music video where you lip synched over your autotuned voice squealing the words that guy wrote while that beat that other guy did was bumping in the background. You wore shiny clothes even. This makes you a veritable goddess to us! Let us wallow in your effluvium! Ooooh! Let us work ourselves into a frenzy as we roll around in your waste matter! Let us then try to convince our readers that what we are doing is not demeaning and disgusting and dehumanizing, but that it is actually a vital and important and even glamourous thing!”
That’s what the media says.
But we are not the media, okay? We are ULK, we are the supermedia. We are like the X-Men to the media.
That is why, though media outlets will be slithering spinelessly around asking “celebrities” what their New Year’s resolutions are going to be, we are not going to ask jack. We are going to TELL them what their New Year’s resolutions should be.
I mean, what the hell. WE pay for those tickets, that means you work for US.
Zari, Sue Ochola Roy, those things: Get a job.
Why is it that when I look for show business news in the papers or on TV it’s their big fat overpowered faces that I see blasting camera flashes back at me? That spotlight is for entertainers, okay, so either vacate it, or learn to be entertaining. They should go to Goodlyfe or get Producer Allan to give them a hit then come back. Make themselves useful. Kyokka unemployment in Uganda is a such a problem.
Robin Kisti simany kisti aka chick who used to say “Haught Straps”:
Buy a DVD player.
We thought we were done with this woman when Hot Steps ended. Okay, if you insist, when “Heart Strips endured” as she would put it. But no. Chick is like Cholera. Just when you think you have eradicated it in the hood, another case shows up. I turned on the TV and there she was, contaminating Brian.
Now, Brian is the world’s foremost example on how to be a very good TV host with a thoroughly normal accent. The man has like nine shows he hosts and there is no fake accent in any of them. I used to enjoy watching Brian. Now I see this chick going “Rrrrawwll rrwwwlll the wwaaaurrrrll” in the corner and I have to switch to another channel. I’d rather see Lady Gaga’s bampane.
Robinah, get a DVD player and watch some American TV shows. Find out how Americans talk. Learn that there is not a single American ever in the history of the US who has ever said “oclork.” Oclork is not a word in any country.
Keep up da good work
BC is the greatest musician in the world’s entire music industry. Don’t take my word for it. Check out this tweet from X-FM’s Rudende. He says, “I think he is a musical genius. Lyrical masterclass. His music defines an era and speaks for a generation.”
I don’t see any sarcasm there, do you?
Bebe Cool has already started the year on a philanthropic note by giving Chaka Demus and Pliers (or whichever one of them showed up) a second chance at life even in the twilight of their years. We think his resolution should be to continue in this charity spirit, by collaborating with the Reach The Aged organisations of not just Jamaica, but other countries all over the world to help revive the stone-dead careers of other nineties pop fossils. I hope he can offer a gig to that guy who did What Is Love Baby Don’t Hurt Me (No More)
Also go to Goodlyfe.
Up your game. It’s becoming embarrassing that he still lets people call him the best rapper alive yet every mixtape and underground freestyle I hear from some half-known upcomer is completely murdering every bar on Jay-Z’s last three albums. This sausage is becoming too tiresome. Up your game, Carter.
Stop being such a penis.