The firing of Don Imus for his racist slur doesn’t seem to get into the people’s head, especially the insensitive folks at CBS. The radio show, “The Dog House With JV and Elvis,” aired a prank call the two hosts made to a Chinese restaurant in the following scenario:

In the skit, a series of apparently unsuspecting employees of a Chinese restaurant are berated by a caller who tells one woman he would like to “come to your restaurant” to see her naked, especially a part of her body he refers to as “hot, Asian, spicy.” The caller also attempts to order “flied lice,” brags of his prowess in kung fu and repeatedly curses at several employees. (From The New York Times)

In a situation like this, I wish there are Asian spokemen like Al Sharpton and Jessie Jackson to put pressure on these guys who did worse than calling an Asian woman a “ho.” They harrassed her with “come to your restaurant” to see “hot, Asian, spicy.” That’s fucked up. These people bust their ass to get pay. The last thing they want to hear is being ridiculed and cursed at.

Also from The New York Times, “Don’t Blame Hip-Hop,” Kelefa Sanneh raised the following questions:

What if hip-hop’s lyrics shifted from tough talk and crude jokes to playful club exhortations — and it didn’t much matter? What if the controversial lyrics quieted down, but the problems didn’t? What if hip-hop didn’t matter that much, after all?

That’s when hip-hop is dead.

A stunning map of London from NB: Studio.
A stimulating acrylic on canvas from Paula Scher.
A simple, red banner from Donny for today’s homepage.

I was assigned to take photos of students’ work in the Palmer Gallery to create a homepage banner. I found their use of typography is kind of neat so I took some for myself as well. Check out the students’ take on Modern Art and the Mass Media, 1929-1968.

Check out Google Maps‘ direction. Make sure you don’t miss step 24.

Michael Jordan is smoking a joint and getting his groove on to get his mind off the divorce, which will cost him $150 million once settled. Definitely don’t be like Mike.

Forget Dancing With The Stars. Let’s “Dancin’ the Boogie.” The band is off the hook.

In his solo interpretation of “Body & Soul,” Thelonious Monk deviated from the original to the point where it became a complete new composition. In the opening, he only played half of a bar of the recognizable melody and drifted off into his own “sphere” and occasionally came back to it. It drove me nuts while I was driving because I couldn’t figure out what the tune was but it has that familiar sound in it. The beauty in Monk’s style is the fractured chords and bent notes (yes he could bend notes on a piano). The way he handled the beat in his left and chords in the right is simply amazing. He’s doing two separate things at once like rubbing your belly while tapping your head.

Straight, No Chaser, an exceptional documentary on a phenomenal jazz pianist and composer Thelonious Monk, is available on You(guess-it-right)Tube. I don’t know how many times I have come back to this film just to watch Monk played. I have many favorite jazz pianists, but Monk’s idiosyncrasies both in his music and personality have always intrigued me.

Tom Tomorrow’s This Modern World.

Also: Vietnamese are the new Irish among Catholic priests.

In his Autobiography, Prince of Darkness complimented on his pianist: “Bill [Evans] had this quiet fire that I loved on piano. The way he approached it, the sound he got was like crystal notes or sparkling water cascading down from some clear waterfall.” After listening to “All Blues,” I was like, “Miles was not bullshitting.” No wonder he always had the best players gave in to him. By the way, I can’t get enough of that crisp drums from Jimmy Cobb. Too damn sensual.