Idle threat of the week

It wasn't uncommon during my elementary school days for someone to accuse another of carrying around the stench of poo. Amidst the laughter of on-lookers, the aggrieved party would then stubbornly refute the charge. This denial would only lead to further accusations and, eventually, Mr. Smelly Pants would declare his intention to sue the parents of his tormentor for some sort of defamation by proxy.

The hysterically stated purpose of the suit would always be to leave said parents so penniless they would be forced to turn over their cackling progeny to an Olivier Twist-like orphanage.

Our founding fathers must have gone to similar elementary schools, because, by addressing free speech in their first of amendments, they set a tone that has resulted in it being practically impossible to sue for defamation of character in the United States of America. Thus keeping our cities free from roving gangs of street urchin pickpockets in tattered clothes.

Last week, from the suddenly volatile world of sports, Kia Vaughn and Barry Bonds both posed challenges to this long legal tradition. Vaughn by taking on the brunt of Don Imus's infamous and team directed "nappy headed hoes" comment and now suing the soon-to-be-back-on-the-air shock jock for slander, libel, defamation and an undisclosed millions of dollars, and Bonds by getting his lawyers to inform fellow all-star Curt Schilling that Schilling should expect a similar set of charges, stemming from the notorious blowhard's nationally televised opinions on their client's steroid taking habits.

If you asked legal experts to add together the percentage chance of each suits success few would come up with a number larger than zero. This is why Kia Vaughn and Barry Bonds will share Idle Threat of the Week for August 13th through 19th.

We should also take a moment to appreciate the elegance of a legal system which makes it so difficult for judges to legislate good taste. Or for the words of Curt Schilling to ever be assigned legally sanctioned authority.

Idle threat of the week

Back in April the Don Imus controversy allowed Al Sharpton to do the two things he loves best: Get on television and act as an unelected spokesperson for black people.

It was his greatest triumph. Not only did he accomplish (at least temporarily) his goal of forcing Imus's ouster, but, unlike his previous attempts at racial adjudicating, this one didn't end with seven people dying in a flaming building or the high profile humiliation of the supposed victim Sharpton had rushed to the aid of.

Still, the whole affair seemed a little off to those of us who spend time in our pajamas staring at computer screens. "Nappy headed hoes," while certainly an impolite slur, would barely raise an eyebrow if printed on the Wild West-like Blogosphere. Even if it was in reference to a bunch of hard working student athletes who probably overcame lots of treacherous obstacles on their way to hard-earned success.

Since much of the Internet's raunchiness is fueled by advertisers hawking novelty T-shirts and dating services -- and is enjoyed by people who drop all kinds of vulgarity and crude stereotypes in their own comments -- it doesn't seem like there is a whole lot anyone can do to change or shame this anything-goes culture.

Sharpton, in all of his self-aggrandizing glory, thought he caught a rare break on this front when TMZ, a website owned by media giant Time-Warner, called Beyonce a "Roboho" in reference to a futuristic and revealing outfit the singer wore to an award show.

Last week, when he learned of the corporate cyber-characterization, Sharpton fired off a missive to TMZ, demanding an apology or else, and stating: "It's intolerable to think that TMZ.com would find humor in calling Beyonce -- someone who symbolizes the strength, dignity and uplifting of Black women -- a "'Roboho.'"

What, you never heard about this? That's because nobody cared. In fact, the only publicity it received was when TMZ printed the letter and gave its readers an opportunity to mock Sharpton.

While one could correctly point out there is a difference between calling a entertainer (or an entertainer's outfit) a "roboho" and calling an unknown18-year old a "nappy headed ho," I think this episode shows that, at least for the foreseeable future, the Interent won't be regulated in any way shape or form.

For his humorous attempt to do so, Al Sharpton has captured Idle Threat of the Week for July 9th to 15th. Proving, whether he likes it or not, Sharpton might be best at providing low-hanging fruit to those of us who need to figure out something to blog about.

Yes, L.C. there is a post-Imus world

Before being knocked off by a lone crazed gunman, the Don Imus story had reached the point where, to continue to justify its existence, the press was forced to cast Imus's ouster as a harbinger of societal change.

I found this kind of talk inane: I believed the only thing that was going to come out of the shock jock's firing was a mini-controversy, in about six months time, when Imus made his triumphant return on satellite radio.

I'm not so sure about that any more.

If you're like me, you've been closely following the is-there-or-isn't-there saga surrounding the L.C. sex tape.

L.C., or Lauren Conrad, as she is now called, was a character on the MTV series Laguna Beach a couple years ago. The "reality" show marked the last time I consistently watched something on television -- and only because I was so charmed by the adorable L.C.'s shy, girl-next-store insecurities. How Stephen could chose Kristin, the vapid fake, over L.C. I will never know.

Since Laguna Beach, L.C. has done other reality shows including, maybe, the ultimate unauthorized reality show co-staring Jason Wahler, one of her Laguna Beach co-stars.

My interest in the L.C. sex tape really has nothing to do with pathetic voyeurism. In fact, it's strictly business. I've developed a revolutionary new strategy where a blogger can capitalize on celebrity sex tape scandals without lowering his standards to actual smut. Check out the brilliant simplicity of my site meter-ticking technique in the tags below.

Anyway, earlier, when I was doing my daily search for L.C. sex tape information, I came across an item that all but confirmed a video does exist. Only there is a catch. Fellow connoisseurs of F-list gossip know that Wahler, the co-star, has had a series of run-ins with law enforcement figures of color and has reacted by calling them things far worse than nappy.

SugarDVD, the porn distributor in talks to release the tape, was so bothered by Wahler's behavior and language that they have retracted their 500,000 dollar bid for the rights to the video, releasing this statement:

We refuse to support any person who feels that it is in any way acceptable to rattle off racial slurs and slanderous language about African-American people.

Not only is SugarDVD pulling out of the bidding, but they are actively reaching out to other porn distribution companies to discourage them for participating in a deal for the tape.

So there you have it: The post-Imus world. I hope you're all happy.

Idle threat of the week

During a week the name Don Imus was shoved down the throats of innocent victims all over the country, the panel of judges had a multitude of threats to sift through and rank by validity. When all was said and done we decided to go right to the top and recognize the most dramatic and threatening threat there is: The death threat.

As the week progressed it was reported death threats were issued against purveyors of racial justice, such as Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, crusaders for First Amendment rights, such as Don Imus, and even excellent public speakers, such as the Rutgers women's basketball team.

It was also a week that saw absolution in the Duke lacrosse case, which served as a reminder that though the principals in that affair had had their lives threatened over and over again, they all still remained very much alive.

There was a time, during the sixties, when the death threat took on deadly consequences and a public figure couldn't be blamed for taking each and every one seriously. The valid death threat also had a brief revival in the early eighties, as a Beatle and an Egyptian president were felled by assassins, and a Pope and American president almost met the same fate.

But ever since then, nothing. I think this is because now anyone who wants to make a grand political statement or impress Jodi Foster is far more likely to comment on a blog or call into a talk radio show than take a trip to the ammo shop. And if a deranged individual is bent on killing for effect, recent events prove it's more effective (and probably easier) to kill a bunch of random people than one specific person.

It can't be fun to hear that someone is planning on ending your life but, if you do, and you're famous enough for it to be a news item, rest assured, these days, you are more likely to die from a lightning strike or a ham sandwich than a bullet with your name on it.

And that the death threat takes Idle Threat of the Week for April 9-15.

Death Watch Update: Sometimes words kill

Hugo Chavez -- who is fond of talking -- claims Fidel Castro is getting stronger every day and is even beginning to resume some of his el presidente duties.

This comes as a surprise to death watchers everywhere, who were all but certain Castro had bought a one-way ticket to state-controlled nothingness. Of course the first three rules of death watching are verify, verify and verify, so until we actually see Castro in public we're going to take Chavez as seriously as we take anyone who wears battle fatigues but isn't really in the military or ten years old.

People often write me wondering how, as death watcher, I can keep such a cool detachment from the breathing status of people -- people with husbands and wives and kids and parents and friends and pets.

It's not always easy. Just last night when New Jersey Governor Jon Corzine's mangled body was thrust into the death watch cross hairs, death watchers -- to a man -- were sick about it. It's never fun, doing what we do, when someone with many more productive years, and a young family that loves him, is facing his ultimate demise.

Luckily it looks like Corzine is going to pull through. So let me take off my death watcher's cloak for a moment, get on my soapbox, and make a general societal criticism:

I'm so sick of this instant gratification culture we live in. Shame on you, Lady Scarlet Knights, you had to get your apology from Imus right away. Shame on you Imus, you had to get your forgiveness from the team right away.

Do you know what right away means? A dutiful governor, speeding down the Garden State Parkway, on his way to a shameless photo opportunity, and bam broken vertebra, cracked ribs, metal rods, ventilators, lungs full of blood and a cloudy future.

Anyway, if Corzine had died wouldn't it have been great if the New Jersey state legislature was able to appoint articulate and dignified Rutgers basketball coach Vivian Stringer replacement governor?

For the healing.

But does Imus have hos in different area codes?

I was trying not to write any more about Imus but, damn it, they sucked me back in. Some (and by some I mean Matt Drudge) are leveling the hypocrisy charge against Barack Obama for calling for Imus's firing while it was only a few months ago that the presidential candidate met privately with the rapper Ludacris to discuss "empowering the youth."

Ludacris is best known for his musical ode to his nation-wide stable of hos, which he deftly organizes by area code. (Lyrics, video)

Now I know some of you are thinking "but that's way different. Imus was cruelly insulting hard-working student athletes, who never asked to be judged by their looks or supposed promiscuity, where Ludacris was referring to chicken-headed groupies with their brestices hanging out."

Fair enough. But consider this: Ludacris mentions at least 38 different area codes in his song, and clearly implies he has more than one ho in many of these regions. That's a lot of hos.

I don't think it's out of the bounds of possibility that at least one of Ludar's hos -- let's say Ms. 972 -- Dallas, Texas -- was also a sweet "dignified" hard-working 18-year old college student who happened to meet a popular entertainer after one of his concerts and was seduced into a sexual liaison with the kind of promises powerful men have been tricking impressionable young women with since the beginning of time.

The next day Ludar left her for a show in the 713 -- Houston, Texas -- but succeeded in making his latest subject feel like she was special and different.

Move forward a year and the young woman is listening to the radio when the new Ludacris hit, Area Codes, comes on. Suddenly Ms. 972 realizes that not only is she a ho, but that she has been reduced to a number in more ways then one.

Today there is much righteous sympathy for the Lady Scarlet Knights. But what about the real hos -- accidental or otherwise? If you prick a ho, does she not bleed?

As a society, if we can take one thing from the tragic Imus affair, it is that we should all show a bit more empathy for the hos. In different area codes.

Anyway, you can't kill what is already dead

I guess I should comment on the whole Don Imus calling the Lady Scarlet Knights of Rutgers "nappy headed hos" brouhaha. Yeah, it was a particularly nasty thing Imus said and, yeah, he needed to apologize and, yeah, Imus is probably undead and, yeah, there is something really goofy about Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson trying to preside as judge, jury and executioner during the kangaroo trial of another professional talker when the reverends both have their own histories (and were permitted to live) of sloppiness when it comes to insensitive and incendiary "racial" language -- in Sharpton's case his words have resulted in not just hurt feelings, but also things such as ruined lives and dead bodies.

But, I ask, does anyone really care? OK fine, I bet Tim Russert cares. And it is probably Imus's association with all those kiss-up media figures and politicians which is driving this story. But is anyone else hot and bothered or in a huff . . ? To answer this question I left my usual comfort zone and ventured out to do a little reporting.

Which took me all the way across the Internet and to the web page of TMZ.com. TMZ, for the uninitiated, is an AOL/Warner Brothers-owned celebrity gossip and news website which came into prominence by breaking the transcript of the drunken, not Jew-loving remarks Mel Gibson made to a Malibu police officer.

Staying true to their roots, TMZ is the go-to spot when a celebrity type says something he or she shouldn't have. For example, the Michael Richard's story was a big deal on TMZ. How big? Well the first post on Richard's comedy club meltdown ended up garnering over 7000 comments.

So, how's the Imus story playing on TMZ? So far the three posts TMZ has dedicated to Imus have barely collected more than 100 comments between them.

Which brings us perilously close to a situation where a story about a "racist" celebrity is getting more links on Drudge than comments on TMZ. Such incongruity in the blogosphere undermines the credibility of us all.