Members of the Hollywood community have signed a petition to have Roman Polanski released from jail. When is the Hollywood community also going to demand the release of 58 year old rapist Bruno Vece?

On January 31st 2009 the past finally came back to haunt Bruno Vece who has been jailed for 20 years for sexual crimes he committed decades ago. Bruno Vece, of Loram Way, Alphington, had been found guilty of raping an underage girl in the late 1970s.

What Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen, David Lynch and other Hollywood elites need to know about Bruno Vece is that he has built a new life since he committed these crimes over 20 years ago; he’s a new man with a new family and now it has been destroyed.

Bruno Vece needs Hollywood’s help.

The jury had unanimously convicted him after the woman told them how Vece was an intimidating man who, when she was a child, warned he would kill her if she told anyone.

Bruno Vece is not a famous director and that’s his downfall. Yet Roman Polanski is no different than Bruno Vece and thousands of other sexual predators that are out there now starting new lives while their victims live in the pain of a forced past. Shame on Hollywood for not helping Bruno Vece and other child rapist in the world that need their voice.

If the tables had been turned and a predominantly white cast and crew used such racially charged language to describe a black cast member, the Screen Actors Guild would have invaded that production and we would have seen headlines in the media “Racist Cast and Crew, Film Shut Down By SAG.”

In that film one of my scripted lines required that I use the word “nigger.” Before I shot the scene I pulled my fellow actor aside and assured him that this was not a word I took lightly and that I was aware of its historical implications towards blacks. He looked me over as if I were an alien and said “Give me a break, I don’t give shit, I’ve been a nigger all my life. I’m cool with it.” That response came to me as a mixed signal. Not one that said it was okay for me to use the word “nigger,” but one that said my efforts at trying to understand his side of race didn’t matter.

All us “white people” are now being told by the media, by former Presidents and now singer Dave Matthews that most whites have a negative racial element to their behavior, that we should monitor them and keep them in check, that our attitudes towards blacks should be sensitive. Okay, fair enough. However, lots of us so called “white people” live our lives with a sense of racial sensitivity and have for some time.

What could be helpful in having a racial dialogue would be specific feedback from the black community on what more they want us to do when it comes to understanding racism as they see it. That would be a more constructive approach to the topic than simply finger-pointing at “White America” as Dave Matthews did when he recently said this:

“Of course it is! I found there’s a fairly blatant racism in America that’s already there, and I don’t think I noticed it when I lived here as a kid. But when I went back to South Africa, and then it’s sort of thrust in your face, and then came back here — I just see it everywhere. There’s a good population of people in this country that are terrified of the president only because he’s black, even if they don’t say it. And I think a lot of them, behind closed doors, do say it.

“Maybe I’m paranoid about it, but I don’t think someone who disagreed as strongly as they do with Obama — if it was Clinton — would have stood up and screamed at him during his speech. (Shakes his head) I don’t think so.”

Where is Dave Matthews meeting these “blatant racist Americans?” Is it amongst his adoring fans, or is this just happening inside his liberal head brought on by the white guilt he cultivated living in South Africa? We disagreed with Clinton over some of his policies, we also scream at him for lying to us when we discovered he’d used the Oval Office as his own private porn booth/cigar factory.

When are those in the black community and its leaders going to address the fact that the vast majority of “white people” in this country try to do what’s right when it comes to race, that when we disagree with it doesn’t mean it has something to do with the color of someone’s skin, but may have to do with the content of  the individuals character or views?

It’s time self-hating whites with big bullhorns like Jimmy Carter and Dave Matthews stop pointing the finger and start asking questions of the black community about what they’re doing to put a balanced eye on the topic, because if they are, I can’t see it.

Before we can be of service to those who still breathe, we must remember those whose breath was taken from them on this day, and who took it. The current administration has changed this day into a national day of service, another move to further remove us from the reality of life as it is and towards the Utopian life that lives inside their head. And to help nudge society and our popular culture into that imaginary world, the administration has a covert operative in Hollywood.

Hollywood has beneath it a core of self-hatred, mostly because those who run it are engulfed in a glowing guilt rivaled by no religion or ideology. A guilt which silently tells them that their white skin is not worthy of the riches they have. And most are not.

Hollywood has yet to put out a single film which depicts the men and woman of our military as the constant ambassadors of service to our country that they are. Instead, Hollywood’s idea of service is to sell us a double scoop of happy face, sprinkled with fiction, dipped in guilt and then smashed into the face of the public at large – instead of ramming the truth of this struggle up the ass of those who created this mournful day. Unless the war is more than 50 years past, Hollywood is not interested in depicting American war struggles as noble. Hollywood is a global whore who needs to feed the anti-American lust of those overseas.

We do not to be told we need a national day of service. We as a people do not need an entertainment industry telling us there is no longer honor, trust, decency and nobility in our armed services.

This day needs to be what it is, a day to remember what happened and a day to thank the men and woman in uniform and in the government who were willing to go to any lengths to keep us safe. You can change the name of evil as the current administration has, but that doesn’t make it less evil.

 We need to remember this day as it was delivered to us, and by whom.

NAMBLA is an organization with a goal to eliminate age-of-consent laws. Arguing those younger than 18 have the mental ability to make decisions, they claim it is unfair to the youth to prevent them from doing so. They oppose forcing sexual relations on anyone, regardless of age. They do not advocate breaking the law, but work to change the law.

On June 15th 2005 the men of NAMBLA rejoiced when the pop singer Michael Jackson was found not guilty of all charges of sexual molestation of boys and of providing minors with alcohol. The group considered Michael Jackson’s acquittal to be a vindication for their Association. “Michael’s innocence is something that is held very dear to us,” said a representative at the time. “We can all relate to wanting to love a child. Many of us have small children that we love and many of us take small children to bed with us every night. Loving a child is not a crime and Michael has proven that to everyone.” Some NAMBLA members felt this was breaking new ground for them and hoped to see laws amended such as mandatory curfews for minors and the legal age of consent lowered to nine years of age.

The NAMBLA website is a cornucopia of at best, instructions on how to love an underage boy in an inappropriate manner, and at worst how to manipulate one into questionable physical experiences with an adult male.

In 2003, Jackson confessed to 60 Minutes about his love of sleeping with children. NAMBLA was founded in 1978, so the question begs; did Jackson get his talking points from NAMBLA for his 60 Minutes interview? In that interview The King of Pop was asked if it was okay to share his bed with children “Of course. Why not? If you’re going to be a pedophile, if you’re going to be Jack the Ripper, if you’re going to be a murderer, it’s not a good idea. That I am not.”

When asked if Jackson would allow his own children to sleep in a bed with a grown man who was not a relative or to sleep in that man’s bedroom, Jackson replied, “Sure, if I know that person, trust them, and love them. That’s happened many times with me when I was little.” This comment too is in lockstep with the mind set of NAMBLA “We feel a special love for children in our own special way and want to express it.” said a representative after the airing of that interview.

NAMBLA members don’t see themselves as Jack the Ripper because in the twisted mindset of its members they feel they’re filling a need they see in a child at the hands of their tormented past or present sickness.

Jackson left many unanswered questions about his past. Was he himself a victim of man boy love as a youth? Was his sick need to be with young boys a sign of arrested development, was he gay, or was Jackson just a modern day pedophiliac Pied Piper moon walking children to his Neverland ranch?

Only in today’s vacuous pop culture would thousands of people and all media outlets raise this man up like a Christ passing, all because he could sing and dance. If what he said about children came from the mouth of people’s neighbor, they’d have his head. On June 25th 2009 when Jackson was pronounced dead NAMBLA lost a man in common, gained a Messiah and children everywhere became safer.

Television long ago brought something to the world that should never have been mixed: entertainment and reality. Because the moment you stick a camera in the face of reality, the reality gets lost. What you end up with is the ability for a camera to be on while a human being sheds all traces of its shame. That place where one openly cowers in a passive emotion while being in a public place.
I love a good car crash, not the sort that involves a motor vehicle and some poor slob texting-in his fantasy baseball picks. I’m talking about the car crash that is “The Real Housewives of New Jersey.”  Like a rubbernecking commuter getting one last look at those pretty flashing lights, I can’t take my eyes off that show. Its complete lack of shame coupled by the site of human beings unconsciously relishing in their own self-destruction is thrilling to me.

Shame is the lost gesture in today’s ugly world of reality TV and we need it back. It’s what separates us from the animals.

In one of the shows more shameless moments, a 45-year-old divorced housewife, we’ll call her Danielle Staub, asks her boyfriend, 20 years her junior, if he’d like a blowjob in the bathroom. It’s not that she asked that question, “Would you like a blowjob in the bathroom?” over dinner in a restaurant; in real life that sounds like fun. But when a camera is on you and you know it, do you really mean it? Or are you just saying that for the camera?

But don’t get Danielle wrong, this particular housewife has a resume. It reads like this:

“You either love me or you hate me, there is no in between,” says the single mom of two daughters. She prides herself as one of the first female American Express Black card members in New Jersey. She is also active in her local parish and regularly attends mass.

That’s how the resume reads of a human who has shed its veil of shame and now lives in the make believe world of reality TV. But reality TV is never real; it’s always produced, manipulated or rigged for a predetermined outcome.

The loss of shame is not a title exclusive to “The Real Housewives of New Jersey,” it belongs to every bit of media that crosses our path today. You can hear it in the lyrics of Eminem. See it in the films of Woody Allen. Download it as Pam and Tommy, or Kim or Paris. And for the first time in history you can watch a reality TV President on ABC, CBS and NBC.

“The Real Housewives of New Jersey” is over, and I’ve come to my senses. Now when I find myself in glee of another human’s shameless moment, I shut the computer down, turn the radio off and I back away from the remote. In the end, it’s what separates me from the animals of New Jersey.

It’s the same for me today when it comes to Obama pornography, it’s hard to define, but I know it when I see it. For the first time in history we’ve got a product placement President and his machine is pushing Obama porn.

Yesterday while strolling through the aisles of my local Barnes & Noble I was assaulted by fourteen magazines with Obama spread across their covers, all in differing poses, two included his wife in close embrace. In the history section forced upon my eyes in plain sight were 23 hardcover books with this political porn star upon it. Michelle Obama even had two books of her own, one a biography, and the other, I believe, was about her fashion sense. I didn’t open the book, I’m not that sort of guy, but I think it had something to do with “going sleeveless.”

As a grown up I was okay with the Obama porn smeared all over the adult sections, but, when I reached the far corner of the store, next to the knee-high chairs and stuffed animals I almost lost it. There I found a whole wall of Obama porn for kids, featuring hardcore, hard covered, cartooned Barack Obama porn begging children to partake. Not since Chairman Mao have children been so assaulted by the likes of such pornographic political propaganda.

Just below the 32 different kiddy books on the shelf with titles such as “The Obamas: First family of Cool,” “Yes You Can,” and “Barack Obama: Son of Promise, Child of Hope,” were all sorts of Obama playthings for kids, Obama coloring books, paper dolls, action figures, baseball caps and sippy cups. I wanted to cry, I wanted to call the police, but I knew it was pointless.

Three months into his presidential performance Obama porn was still everywhere. Obama porn is dangerous to all, not just kids, it’s easy to get addicted to, and at the least, should be taxed like a corporate bonus at 90%.

There is a gateway drug into Obama porn, it is the bumper sticker, you see them everywhere; they have that Pepsi-Cola sort of vibe to it, the sort of which pulls people in for something sweet and refreshing. That’s how it starts. They put one on their car, and then they buy a Time magazine Obama porn issue, then a hard-core, hardcover Obama porn book find its way onto their nightstand. They wrap themselves in an Obama t-shirt and the next thing they know its Obama porn lawn signs, coffee cups, key chains, hats and pins. This then leads to hours spent surfing Obama porn online which is not only disgusting in its very nature, but baffling in the unlimited forms to which it can be found on the internet.

Obama porn can be so addictive that it can lead large groups of people into an orgasmic state, one that bypasses all reason and moves them to follow this political porn star to the ends of the earth, all in the hopes of one more fix from this Dr. Feel Good. It’s everywhere and it’s dangerous. If you’re an addicted to Obama porn I suggest you take the lead from AA and start a local chapter of OPA, Obama Porn Anonymous. Turn it over to a higher power; just make sure that power is higher than, “The One.”

Yet some embrace it and are glad it’s here. To quote Angela Lambert, “Pornography is literature designed to be read with one hand.” With Obama porn the left has finally been given the load of literature they’ve been dreaming. You’ll know Obama porn when you see it, and now that I’ve brought it to your attention, you’ll see it everywhere.

Two of the greatest actors of our time, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Daniel Day Lewis are the sort of actors that truly let me enjoy their work because I know next to nothing about who they are as people. And I don’t want to know about them, I just want to experience the joy of their craft.

Daniel Sunjata has been quoted as saying “There’s alternative theories about what really happened on 9/11,” he told TV critics in January. “They’re not discussed a lot in the press … I’m really gratified that they allowed that to be focused through my character, because I happen to subscribe to a lot of those theories and beliefs that 9/11 was an inside job.” Daniel, they’re not discussed, because they have no foundation in reality.

You need only Google Daniel Sunjata 9/11 to read more of Daniel’s inane beliefs.

I’m all for TV producers taking sensitive topics like 9/11 and putting them into storylines. I’m even for actors speaking up if they feel the need, (and we all know actors have lots of needs) but it wrecks their credibility as an artist hired to recreate a life other than their own.

When I know too much about an actor’s life or beliefs, whether it be their religion, their politics, what recovery group they presently attend, who they’re sleeping with or their need to believe that the US is evil, I find it difficult to see the character they’re hoping to create.

Daniel believes 9/11 was set in motion by the US so as to move the world into some sort of “One World Government,” well if that’s the case, then it’s up to his man Obama to now carry that torch of stupidity around the world for him. It’s disappointing that TV producers gleefully put these sorts of storylines into shows, but won’t deal with storylines such as the thousands of people with AIDS in Africa that have benefited by the work of George W. Bush.

So Daniel, let me just put all your 9/11 conspiracies and the Iraq war to rest right now.

If the US Government could bring down the twin towers and kill 3000 US citizens in a single day without anyone coming forward as a whistle blower, don’t you think they could have planted weapons of mass destruction in Iraq for us to find?

As the NCAA final four is again upon us I thought it would be fun to take the last four years of President Bush’s team, and square them off against President Obama’s team in a presidential team pick, and policy play.

Team Bush

Coach: The spirit of Ronald Reagan.
As a coach Reagan brings this team together with a play that’s tough, conservative and full of compassion for those who are being oppressed on both sides of the stands. He instructs his team to trudge forward no matter what the score, and to not concern themselves with attempting to get cheers from both sides of the stands or those in other leagues who don’t like the way they play. Bonus: Tear down this wall.

Center: George W. Bush.
W. in the position of center seems an odd choice for a man of his stature. Yet consensus amongst his team is that he’s the man best set to defend the basket, and the man who won’t budge in the face of hard drives up the lane, elbows, personal fouls and face spitting from opponents and their booster clubs. Bonus: Makes a decision and sticks to it.

Point Guard: Condi Rice
Not concerned with being recognized by the crowed for her sex, race or background, she brings a sense of calm and conscientious control to the overall play of the team. She’s fast and able to get the ball in the right hands at the right time. Bonus: Can play the “Star Spangled Banner” on a piano at the opening.

Shooting Guard: General David Petraeus
Creating a high volume of shots on offense he’s able to decimate the opponent with his surge, and protect the point on defense. Not looking for the limelight, trophies or magazine covers, his only concern is the advancement of the overall team and the safety of the entire crowd. Bonus: Not bothered by anti-American sentiment from Democrat-funded websites.

Small Forward: Michael V. Hayden CIA
Though his scope is global on the court he keeps a presence that’s so small and silent that once you discover he’s there, it’s too late. No leaks come from his play even though he helped write the playbook years ago at the NSA. Bonus: He’s got your cell number so cheating is difficult for opponents.

Power Forward: Dick Cheney
Plays offensively often with his back to the basket. Because of his vast experience he plays a zone defense often confusing the opposing team. His play is straight forward and unapologetic. Opposing booster clubs experience high levels of intimidation due to his unwillingness to be vocal about team play. Bonus: A rumor set forth from booster clubs about Gatorade water-boarding brings a warm wet feeling to the briefs of teams attempting to oppose him.

Cheerleaders: Weekly Standard, Wall Street Journal, Fox News, Abe Lincoln, General Patton, the US Military, Rush Limbaugh, the free marketplace, Big Hollywood and people not susceptible to cult worship.

Team Obama

Coach: George Soros
Coach Soros brings to the game a sense of “Yes we can, and here’s the check to prove it.” He tells his teams not worry about the score because he owns the company that makes the scoreboards. His gameplan is loose and full of narcotics in case his team begins to feel something they don’t like. In the event of obvious defeat, he’s willing to abort the entire match no matter how late in the game. Bonus: Pays for all spectators’ hot dogs, sodas and one of those foam fists to wave at team W.

Center: President Obama
With vast experience as a community organizer, he’s used to being surrounded by those who count on him to give them something. Hope and Change is the name of his game but because you can’t see, taste, touch or pay your bills with Hope and Change, he settles for handing the ball off to those more experienced than he. Bonus: Looks good on a t-shirt, bumper sticker, coffee mug, hand towel, wrist watch, poster, action figure, flag, mural and video game.

Point Guard: Hillary Clinton
Clearly the balls of the team and faster than most of her teammates when it comes to maneuvering around a play that may bring shame to the team or the player. Early in the season her sex seemed to be a real problem for the booster clubs and those in the stands. But now that she’s not president, they all feel she’s swell. Bonus: Husband Bill Clinton has shown her how to deal with groupies on the road.

Shooting Guard: Janet Napolitano
Though she’s never played the game at this level, she must quickly learn to be the best perimeter player on the team. Bonus: She can see Mexico from her house.

Small Forward: Leon Panetta
Primarily responsible for penetrating offense, when he does drive up the lane he does so in a manner that’s never harmful to the opponent. Bonus: Carries with him everywhere he goes the playbook written by MoveOn.org.

Power Forward: Eric Holder
Often plays with his back against his own teammates and is willing to send fellow players to the showers if too many fouls are committed in the name of victory. Bonus: When he fouls you he says, “You’re pardoned.”

Cheerleaders: MSNBC, NBC, ABC, CBS, PBS, NPR, CNN, Hollywood, unions, t-shirt makers, Planned Parenthood, rappers, Bruce Springsteen, people in Europe, Jimmy Carter, Hamas, people that know 9/11 was an inside job, cultists, most people under 28 and those who pay no taxes.

Okay so Team Obama just got in the game, but with his line-up it’s clear why Team Bush wins in the end. Team Bush knows the cost of a game lost when the stands are full and the world is watching.

Mental disorders don’t come to Hollywood they’re cultured there. It all takes place inside the social interaction of petri dishes disguised as auditions, lunches, movie sets, movie premieres and fund raisers.

After ample time is spent cultivating inside these infected petri dishes, subjects unknowingly begin to show signs of “Hollywood Political Mental Disorder,” or HPMD. The frustrating thing about HPMD is that the cure is so close the subjects can’t see it.

Most subjects come to Hollywood healthy and open minded only to have the openness of their mind infected by simplistic antidotes that can be swallowed but never digested by the human spirit because they lack logic and reason.

HPMD takes hold

After settling into town, subjects are given the dialogue of second-hand-word-of-mouth politics. A dialogue which can be believed only if accompanied by free booze from parties the subjects are directed to attend. If subjects forget their lines, Hollywood snake oil salesmen will remind them what to say every time they turn on the TV or stroll past a magazine rack full of Obama Porn.

In the early stages of infection subjects remain pretty on the outside but are only able to parrot what the last person said to them about what it is they’re supposed to know about the world. On the inside, subjects must lose all rational censure so as to remain part of the group’s mutual incomprehension as to why everyone else is not like them.

Sufferers of HPMD gradually become cruel to all those outside their group. The reason for this behavior, they will tell you, is in the name of “making the world a better place for everyone.” (Except for those cured of HPMD or those who’ve never been infected.) HPMD is not new to Hollywood. Modern subjects can be found clinging to peace and love from the 1960’s in the form of hope and change while pimping it across the globe like Facebook heroin.

HPMD gets a face

With the recent introduction of President Obama into the infection, subjects are given the ability to actually worship a political pop idol. With this addition, subjects become advanced carriers of HPMD and are unable to deconstruct their idols domestic agenda. An agenda set to level the playing field of their lives to that of a vast wasteland of cultural diversity where people are forced to search out opposing races for tea at noon, so as to not look cowardly. A three minute and thirty second You Tube Iranian foreign policy encapsulates their pop idol president’s agenda. The subjects buy into it because they feel good when reaching out to psychos. They adore the fact that he’s done the same drugs they’re currently on, and are subconsciously comforted by the fact that they voted for what they see him as most, a black man.

A more sinister way of infecting HPMD to subjects

Served up hundreds of times a week in tipsy town, HPMD also takes hold inside “recovery meetings.” Meetings where subjects with a still gelatinous brain in the shape of an apple martini are served bad coffee alongside a stale plate of victimhood mentality, of which can only be digested by one sort of mind, a soft one that leans to the left. The soft brain of the subject, now victim, goes on to become caught up in the self-creation of its own drama and driven to a level of self-importance that leads them to want to heal their past through healing the world. Once HPMD takes hold of subjects in recovery rooms they become willing to go to any length to get better so long as they don’t have to rise above the group.

What to do in the face of HPMD

It’s difficult to know what to do with subjects suffering from HPMD when one comes across a gaggle of them, or even just one. Field test by conservatives have found the best way of treating people with HPMD is to treat them like sick friends.

Example: If you went to the hospital to see a sick friend and they threw up on you, you wouldn’t yell at them. You’d show compassion, hand them a fresh towel and leave them to rest.

Libertarian field tests show they can sometimes be defused by agreeing with them on one of their rabid topics, then blinding swiping them with the antidote of logic and reason. This is best attempted in the morning before the subjects brain is given a feeding at the liberal troth of “The Daily Show,” The New York Times, MSNBC, NPR, and current White House press briefings. Yet research shows that even these advanced carriers HPMD are not the most extreme.

HPMD as profit

Full blow carriers of advanced HPMD like Bill Maher and Janeane Garofalo will find they can make a healthy living speaking with venom and hatefulness towards those who have used the cure of logic and reason to escape the disorder.

Precautions in closing

When one comes across one of these hateful subjects suffering from HPMD give no response and hand them a fresh towel after the outburst, leave the scene, calmly walking away with a smile before their next regurgitation. You won’t want to have to keep cleaning up after their mental barf.

Brody Jenner

I long for the days when being a man had to do with things like, my word is good, insult my wife and you get a busted nose, and my silence says more than any nonsense I could ever scream at you. But this is not the image of the masculine male Tinseltown now propagates.

The other day while surfing channels like a Troglodyte on speed waiting for the meat on the grill to ooze a little blood, I came across a show I’m convinced will be the downfall of the American male.

The show’s called “Bromance.” That’s right, “Bromance,” and it’s not on the LOGO channel. It’s on the channel where many first time voters get information on who to vote for and where to get a complimentary t-shirt emblazoned with the image of a hip, slick, cigarette smoking candidate. That’s right, MTV. Now you may be wondering just what a “Bromance” is. Here’s the explanation from the website. 

There’s friendship, there’s romance, and then there’s Bromance. What is Bromance? In most cases, it’s a bond between boys that is both manly and intimate. In this case, though, it’s a chance to buddy up with a privileged heartthrob from The Hills, Brody Jenner.

I made it through twenty-minutes and was able to observe the aforementioned Brody Jenner seated in a poolside lounge chair surrounded by candles having a “MAN-DATE” with one of the nine so-called men, hoping to become his new best friend. The candidate vying for Brody’s “heterosexual affections” shed tears while exposing his flaws and all the pressure on him. It ended with a candle-lit man-hug.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my buddies but I don’t want to date them. Good long episodes of crying should be reserved for private time in the bathroom with the shower running.

Brody Jenner is the type of man young women are being told is the ideal: soft, sensitive, vulnerable, not able to take a punch or be there when life gets tough. This isn’t to say women need men or can’t take care of themselves – hell, I need my wife and like it that way. But in the roles between men and women, I believe a woman wants to be with a man whose word is good and can be counted on when life takes a dump in their world.

 I don’t think women want men who come home crying after a long days work and say, “Hold me, I feel so vulnerable, my boss was mean today.” But this is what shows like “Bromance” are doing to men while at the same time altering how young women see them.

Oh, and if you’re wondering who Brody Jenner was spawn from, Google “Decathlon winner 1976 summer Olympics,” and there you’ll find a man in full,  a testosterone fueled super athlete who’s morphed himself from into Hollywood’s male ideal with the help of a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon and Dr. Phil — who also can’t take a punch.

I’m not advocating misogyny or random acts of violence to express masculinity. I leave that to the lyrics of hip-hop. I’m all for peace, love and understating. I’m just not willing to give up my balls, break my word or shout at some dude, “You hurt my feelings.”