Category Archives: Derek B. Blogs

Azealia Banks: Pop Culture Honey Badger

Azealia Banks may not have too many defenders nowadays. Since arriving onto the scene at age 17, she’s burnt a few—many—most bridges in her young but incendiary career.
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Forget Religious Tests—How About Science Tests Instead?

In light of recent autocratic orders issued from our (with all due respect) doughy, baby-carrot-fingered troglodyte of a 45th president for whom the rhetorical complexity of a season of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo represents an intellectual bridge too far, I thought I would take this opportunity to suggest that in the interest of “our country’s continued safety and security” we implement not religious tests for incoming migrants but science tests instead. Read more

2016: A Selective Year in Review

2016 has been a difficult year, in particular for music. This year witnessed the loss of David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, Maurice White, Sharon Jones, and Prince, to name a few. It sort of begs the question: God does realize that Justin Bieber, Chris Brown, and Kanye West are still down here, right? More proof that God wants to see us all suffer—Drake still has a flourishing music career, too.
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Dinersaurs Cereal is Decadent and Depraved

While perhaps not as impactful upon my impressionable young mind as Fruit Islands cereal, Dinersaurs remains another top-tier, long-lost breakfast cereal from that heyday of the mid- to late-80s when Reaganomics made anything possible and America’s food industry was hard at work achieving unimaginable heights of processed food euphoria. Read more

Fruit Islands Cereal

Fruit Islands is my Rosebud. It represents a lost childhood innocence that I shall likely never reclaim, and I have a Proustian relationship with this cereal such that as I write this, I can actually taste, ever so faintly, these Cookie Crisp-shaped pieces, hear the satisfying crunch as each “island” succumbs to the force of my clenching teeth and feel the resulting shrapnel tearing through the tender flesh along the roof of my mouth.
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Donald Trump is America’s Fault

In the opening to his cover of Patti Smith’s “Rock n’ Roll Nigger,” Marilyn Manson screams “I was made in America, and America hates me for what I am. I am your shit, you should be ashamed of what you have eaten.” At the risk of comparing a doughy windbag ass-clown to one of rock n’ roll’s more intriguing icons, truer words might not be spoken of Donald Trump and his presidential campaign which, while stoking the ire of a vast bipartisan contingent of the American public, has also inspired a groundswell of fanatical support from some of the darker recesses of the American landscape most often regarded during flyovers between New York and Los Angeles.
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High School Student Ultrasounds

Some of you may recall and others of you may neither remember nor care, but I taught high school on the west side of Chicago for almost 10 years. Teaching inner-city high school presents all kinds of unique challenges, not the least of which is having to pretend to be enthusiastic when your students show you ultrasound pictures of the fetus presently gestating inside of their stomach.
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