A Little of the Old In and Out

In: So very in: Black Table's analysis of just how the race game plays itself out nestled in New York City's hipper circles:

"Okay. So, some white people are down. And some white people are trying to be down.

"To study the difference, we attended the fifth-anniversary party celebrating the Cornerstone Mixtape, a near-legendary promotional CD given to media and radio DJs. The party was at LQLQ in New York City on a Tuesday night and the lineup included live performances from href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/stores/artist/glance/-/72903/102-7340837-0128956">CL Smooth (oddly, Pete Rock was playing up the street), Black Sheep (yes, they're still together) and De La Soul, the pioneering rap group who made rap cool for white college kids. The white people were there. The black people were there. The music was tight.

"We took some pictures.

"You make the call: 'Down' or 'Not Down.'"

Out: Rush and Molloy of the New York Daily News note that Les Moonves' ex wife can not or will not watch CBS:

"CBS chief Les Moonves and his girlfriend, CBS 'Early Show' host Julie Chen, are on top of the world after his promotion at Viacom. Moonves' estranged wife, Nancy, has more mixed emotions.
Last week, when Viacom chairman Sumner Redstone named Moonves and MTV Networks boss Tom Freston as co-presidents of the entertainment giant, Nancy tells us she sent Les an E-mail 'congratulating him. I said, 'You and Tom will make an unbeatable team.'"

"'I certainly hope so,' says Nancy, who is divorcing Les after 24 years of marriage. 'I have stock in the company.'

"At the same time, Nancy, 57, feels so hurt by the 54-year-old Moonves' romance with 34-year-old Chen that she won't even watch CBS.

"'Neither I nor our children have watched it in years,' she says. 'I don't want to see [Chen]. It's not healthy for me or my kids.'"

In: Scott L's Stereogum gives us some MTV Movie Award pictures. Paris Hilton. Halle Berry. Elen Degeneres in a Spiderwoman costume looking at Kirstin Dunst's cleavage. Carmen Electra. The usual suspects, the usual crimes.

Out: The po-po are "Hassling the Hoff." (Link via DLR on BestWeekEver)Ice T should be proud of his little thug in training. Keep it gangsta, Knight Rider; If you were flossing the Knight Industries Two Thousand, you would've been in another county before they even had you on the radar, playboy. Show 'em what calibre of thug you are, D-Hassell.

In: New York Magazine's blow by blow account of the Rye police (can't anyone have any fun?) raiding an upper middle class teenage party. It brings back so many good memories of "wild and innocent youth" (a song, by the way, played, so ably, by Nightranger ... thank you, thank you; although, to be frank, nowadays The Corsair taste lean towards "Got it Twisted," by Mobb Deep)

Anyhoo:

"12:32 A.M.

"(David) MacBride, 19, made his way through the house, quickly, quietly, alerting everyone to the police presence. And who were all these people, anyway? Little grinning clusters of them, everywhere you turned, kids who were bopping to hip-hop one minute, the Grateful Dead the next, sipping Coors Light and Budweiser. At least 50. Maybe more. Guys sporting khaki shorts, crimped baseball caps, creased Oxford shirts, flip-flops; girls in tight jeans, tighter tank tops, tiny flounce skirts. Some didn�t even go to MacBride�s school, Rye High, a regal old Gothic structure in this storied suburb of landscaped lawns and luxury SUVs, a place where popular after-school activities include boating and horseback riding.

"Indeed, it was always the same: Your parents are out of town (in Ireland this weekend), you invite a few people over (no more than fifteen), you stress that it�s to be a small, intimate affair. Seriously. But then someone can�t help but tell their friends, who tell their friends, who tell their friends, and all of a sudden you don�t recognize half the people roaming around your own home.

"MacBride was more than a little annoyed. In fact, just a moment ago he�d grabbed his close buddy, George Ladd, a 19-year-old senior with cloudy blue eyes and a jawline you could use to crack open a walnut, and asked him for a favor.

"'I�m about to lose it,' MacBride said. 'Do me a favor, and start kicking people out.'

"But it was already too late."

The adrenaline rush of quickly quietly getting the hell out of impending police procedures, ah, what memories that conjures. Replace the Coors Light with Old English ("The Burgundy and the Gold") and the SUV's with Nissan Maxima's and suburban lawns with the old Saint club and I'm 16 all over again.

Out: Check out this blind item on LA.com's blog:

"The Loathsome Legend

"Years of great reviews and award recognition prove that this titan of movies, TV, and stage is about as good as it gets. (And she�d be the last one to argue with anyone on that score.) But when it comes to being popular with people she�s worked with, let�s just say girlfriend won�t be taking home any Miss Congeniality trophies anytime soon. Filming her newest movie, she was unusually unpleasant to everyone around her, avoiding conversation by constantly sticking her nose in a book or newspaper, speaking to coworkers only when she absolutely had to (and even then only in hostile grunts), and snarling at anyone who tried to be even moderately friendly. Our Lady of the Rampant Mood Swings gave off such a leave-me-alone vibe that production assistants privately drew straws and paid each other off in an effort to avoid having to deal with her directly. With all that fame and acclaim you�d think she�d be proud of her accomplishments--so what�s her big complaint? She has convinced herself that she is revolting to the opposite sex. Somebody ought to tell her it isn�t her face, figure or brain power that sucks, it�s her twisted 'tude."

The consensus on the board is Bette Midler. But what do I know?