Saturday, October 14, 2006

Diddy Get Bent?

I think I'd rather go on a rafting trip with Scoutmaster Kolbe than even think about our old friend T.C. Diddy, but to be confronted with this asinine nonsense on the very same day that Freddy Fender, a class act to the very end, passes, is just too damned much.

(Note: People who don't regularly read the Comical should realize that Aidin Vaziri is basically their Andy Dick, a snarky, self-conscious little shit who also happens to be a solid pop aesthete, if he could ever get out of his own way. His Sunday Pop Quizzes and CD reviews are frequently must-reads, dripping with alternately contemptuous and celebratory pomo meta-irony. Which is okay in small doses. Here he's just a passive, mildly amused stenographer, which is unfortunate, because he can turn up the heat when he wants to.)

"We will only be talking about the new album," his New York press agent sternly told the gathered throng, even though no one had yet heard the disc, as she handed out fact sheets detailing talking points that included, "Diddy is named by Burger King as the KING of music and fashion."


My, that's quite a selling point. Is a prefab burger chain suddenly an arbiter of music and fashion, or are they implictly saying that T.C. is to music and fashion what Burger King is to quality cuisine and/or dining? I mean, I loves me a Croissanwich™ every now and again, but I have no illusions about the nutritional content. One might have thought that people would have learned from Michael Jackson's poor example of proclaiming oneself the "king" of anything larger than, say, Liechtenstein (yes, I know it's a dependent duchy, smartass), but then one doesn't normally find a way to fuck up a perfectly good song like Kashmir.

Combs arrived more than two hours late. There was some brief talk of staging a walkout among the hungry and frustrated journalists, but it seemed too cruel to deprive the artist of his lifeblood: free publicity.


This is really the problem with the oxymoronic "profession" of entertainment journalism -- they're all weasels, almost by definition. What Vaziri doesn't say is that, even had these noble wielders of the truth decided en masse that this troublesome little shit wasn't worth their time, and repaired to some bar for several rounds of drinks, one of them would have kept one eye to the road for T.C.'s favored mode of regal transportation, a solid gold litter carried by Numidian midgets.

Seriously, the guy's a fucking asshole, and he's only enabled by all the free publicity these goofballs keep handing him. When do we hit the tear-down stage already?

Between takes, Combs furiously fired off text messages and yelled some more into the earpiece, while checking himself out in the bar mirror. A man with a necklace that featured a working miniature clipper covered in diamonds groomed his light layer of hair.

Another half hour went by like this until Combs finally entered the conference room for the roundtable interview. Each of the five journalists got to ask one question.

Mostly he bragged. "Being a leader in culture, I never stop providing entertainment," he said, citing recent commercial triumphs by proteges like Danity Kane and Cassie. "I'm just timeless."


Jesus. Where's Mark David Chapman when you could really use him? If this douche-nozzle's a "leader in culture", then we need to have an election. If he's "timeless", someone buy him a fuckin' clock, mach schnell.

"Every hip-hop artist has a dream to become an R&B singer or a professional athlete," he said. "I think I've accomplished both of those dreams. I ran a marathon and I did a duet with Keyshia Cole."


I have no idea who or what a "Keyshia Cole" might be, and it may interest this nauseating little fag to know that thousands of people also ran the New York Marathon for free, just as they do every year. By definition, this does not make them "professional athletes", any more than shagging balls at Padres training camp makes Garth Brooks a major-league baseball player.

Seriously, what's wrong with this fuckin' guy?

The press agent then said time was up, but Combs -- who on the official Diddy Web site labels himself "The CEO, The Entertainer, The Humanitarian, The Designer" -- granted a bonus question.

"Music is my first love, success is something I acquired," the man who is estimated to be worth $346 million said. "I would make music for free."


I sincerely hope he gets that opportunity, the sooner the better.

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