Day 238 – Football, Music, Robot Sex

Monday September 13, 2021

We got through 9 11 twenty years after. Sixty Minutes devoted their show to telling the stories of the fallen firefighters, their devotion and struggle on that day, and of the children of those fighters who have taken up the reins. The thing no one had counted on was those towers collapsing. Maybe a few floors, but not the whole building.

I spent last night after watching that show aimlessly clicking between the football game and the annual MTV video awards ceremony. I’m glad that Mathew Stafford has moved out of Detroit and is with another team, the LA Rams. It seemed his talent could not really be shown off at Detroit for whatever reason. Remember when Detroit was a powerhouse? The city, not the team. It’s so sad. Death knells were attempted to be delivered by the Republican Governor, but the city has withstood and rebounded somewhat.

Now onto the MTV video awards. I have the same questions every year: “Can we see the video?” “Where can we see the video?” and “This isn’t music, right? It’s something else.” I now have concluded that it, the awards show, is a giant bad taste party held by people who don’t know how to act. Not “act” as in acting, but act as in behaving.

First you’ve got the announcers. The women are competing to see who can wear the most outrageous bad taste getups. The men are older and kind of hoodlum-esque/aging rapper. Regardless, the intros are the same. For the women, there is mention of hard work. The men stress how many awards the talent has. Then they say “give it up for” and the yell a name which they trail off. It’s kind of like a Doppler effect sound. “Give it up for SSSSENNNNNdaaaaaayyyyyah” or whatever. I can’t tell you who most of the people were because I couldn’t understand the name. This didn’t matter because everyone in the know knew. It would have been helpful to display the name in a graphic, not only of the performer but the announcer too.

But now we get to the highlight fo the evening. The really bad taste in fashion. Who told Avril Lavigne that wearing a bright pink plaid suit cutaway to reveal a clashing bright blue bangle encrusted bra was a good idea?

Then there’s the intriguing “you can’t look away” competition for boob holding and reveal, and reveal in general. This was mainly a competition among the women, however some men or quasi-men, I’m not sure, got involved. 

There was the woman with the English accent wearing the black bra and grandma panties draped with Stevie Nicks black veil stuff.

There was the woman with the red pleated dress whose top was a red piece of twine around her neck from which other strings came down to hold her sagging boobs in two bikini like triangular bags. 

There was the woman who had a hip length half skirt that revealed an vertically and horizontally banded leg. Kind of an Iron Maiden style get up with similar upper torso encasing.

But my favorite was a young woman in a stunning white dress. It was almost as sheer as vinyl but not quite. Her top was a band of this material that ran around her neck and came down in a two inch wide strip over each breast. Her breasts were cute ample and lovely. Not bowling ball size, more like duck pin, but they looked terrific. If ever there was going to be a wardrobe malfunction, I was hoping for one there.

There was also a side stage somewhere that they cut away to, I guess when they needed to set up for the next act. A guy name St. John was performing several times. He sang his hit song, “Sucks to Be You,” so nice. Also, “Tank” great lyrics to be sure.

It seems no performance is complete without a crotch grab. Man or woman, doesn’t matter. Also, some marching sync rhythm routines are de rigor. These are the grand children of Michael and Janet Jackson. Also, for the women the influence of Megan Thee Stallion is evident by the need, if you have a fat ass, to show it off in the least appealing way possible. Typically, this is a side shot straight back bend with ass flip. But the ultimate is to put your back to the audience and bend over like a stripper to show your thonged crotch. Very tasteless.

Obviously, these shows are for young people that can get away with such antics. Old people are anyone over about 35. Busta Rhymes did a bit. He’s a rapper who at least doesn’t try to say words fast but instead concentrates on the beat with his vocal work. And who is the guy beside him? They pranced around, did their thing, but they looked old. Speaking of old, Tommy Lee was hauled out and he like so many of these people got goofy and laughed at his own ineptitude. The high light of the old people was David Lee Roth, who looked more like a Charlie Watts stand in than the kid who could high kick a balloon.

Little Nas did his homo-erotic dance stuff. And then, near the end, we gave it up for “AWFAD:JEJPJooooo!!!” I don’t know. Some woman who came out with her dance troupe. She was dressed in white silver sweatpants and a silver metal looking top swooped to one side.  Whatever she was doing it seemed to be dance moves punctuated with her saying/singing a phrase softly. The number ended with a woman being rolled out on stage strapped to a kind of crucifix like device. The arms of the cross were set down at about 45 degrees so it looked more like a rocket ship in outline. There were ladder rungs to either side of this woman. The singer approached and ran her hand up the center of the strapped lady’s rib cage. Then the singer climbed the ladder and after passing her body close to the crucifixed woman stood over the woman’s face with her crotch close. It didn’t leave mush to the imagination. The singer climbed down a rung on either side, put her legs through the rungs and hung upside down trapeze like. The number ended with the two women’s torsos forming a head up, head down formation. The song ended. The crowd applauded, like they did for everything. 

A woman came out at one point to announce something or other in what I can only describe as an over stuffed Egyptian Queen pharonic costume. Her head poked out from a huge rounded set of pleated rolled up elongated cloth sausage like things surrounding her head. It was quite stunningly comical. I  thought of Kanye on Saturday Night Live when he was dressed up as a vegetable. And the award for whatever she was announcing went to her and another woman. This was Doja-Cat! Wow, who knew? I had that name mixed up with Dua Lipa. I was very confused. A black woman who was in the song with her came up on stage but never got to say much. Then there was some musical number and old Doja came out after, stripped of her Egyptian look but wearing a red chair turned upside down on her head. Yeah, what can one say? After two rounds of that Doja took the chair off her head and sat on it. 

Machine Gun Kelley won something and most people were wondering how he scored with Megan Fox.

I was surprised to see Megan Thee Station was up with Doja for WAP, which was so last year. But then again we needed more fat ass flappery.

Shelby had told me that Martin Short walked in on Selena Gomez reading the lyrics of WAP to Steve Martin when they were rehearsing their new show. Imagine that!

Ah me. The only band and the only musicians I saw take the stage were the Foo-Fighters. The did their number, got their award and got the hell out of there.

Billie Elish presented it to them. She was quite tame in her no green streak blond hair and black phone booth like dress and accompanying black boots.

But enough. Or should I say, “Enuff!”?

On to what you’ve all been waiting for – Robot Sex, and the philosophic and social implications of same.

I got a robot vacuum cleaner. It vacuums the upstairs, and I gotta say it does a much better job than we humans do. One, it does it several times a week and two, it can get under the bed with ease. Yesterday I discovered it had climbed up on top of the weigh scale. There it died. Like Rocky (as in Nelson) it died in the saddle. This raises the interesting question as to what would the offspring be? Would I end up with a vacuum cleaning weigh scale? Much like the alarm clock on the night stand next to the radio that melted together decades ago to form a clock radio, would a similar fate await these two objects? Hard to say.

Back to the music awards, Justin Bieber won artist of the year. He was dressed in a black hoodie pulled up and worn under an unflattering huge sports jacket and similar wide pants. It’s amazing to me that these kids don’t know how to talk. It’s also amazing to me that the Beebs found a beautiful woman that seems infatuated with him.

Then there was the performance by the global Latin super star who I had never heard of. He wore a pink rhinestone jockey looking outfit complete with matching cap. He actually sang and the song was a catchy Latin number. His dance team was dressed up like teddy bears. The kind that you try to win in a vending machine with the three claws. To make the point he had a giant backdrop of that sort of machine stuffed with teddy bears. While he sang a giant three pronged crane descended into that pit and extracted a large teddy. It then proceeded to move it over the crowd. Fortunately, the claws were stronger than those ones at the game arcades. It didn’t drop the giant teddy onto the crowd below.

Lastly, I got an email from Greg Palast. He’s an investigative reporter who fashions himself in the style of the old 1940s style working stiff newspaper reporter. He had an interesting take on Afghanistan and I found it food for thought. He pointed out that in the last year no soldier in Afghanistan had died in combat. We had reached a state of stasis with the other forces in that country with 3,000 troops on the ground. Hum. Maybe it wasn’t costing us the $300 million a day anymore. Maybe we could have just maintained a presence and kept thing in a state of check? But Trump changed all that. Hard to know because none of the people and sources are that close to the situation.

Carry on.

PS The picture is a recreation of the actual situation. I grabbed the vacuum off of the scale before taking the picture and had to recreate it here. Notice the bathmat was an accomplice.