If you know anything about nerdcore superstar MC Frontalot, then you know he’s not just about ice-cold flow and deep rhymes: he’s also funny as hell. Now, with Question Bedtime, Frontalot brings us an album for kids, 40 minutes’ of hip-hop fairy tales.
The album features guest vocals by some of the legends of nerdcore, including Open Mike Eagle, Kid Koala, Paul F Tompkins, Kyle Kinane, mc chris, and more — and as with other Frontalot classics, the songs are intercut with hilarious, weird sketches about parenting and bedtime that kids and adults alike can enjoy.
Is it racist that a white, 20 year old unarmed kid was shot by a black cop on Monday, Aug 18, 3 days ago and its no where in the news? Oh wait, it happens all the time, its just not newsworthy. Sucks to be white.
Dear Racists: I know you’re going to to be trotting this out in the next few days claiming that this shows how white people are just as badly treated as black people in the US (though, of course, the idea that “it happens all the time” to white people is, of course, a ridiculous and disgusting lie).
But guess what, fuckheads, as usual, you’re wrong as fuck. The reason this tragedy isn’t national news is because, surprise surprise, a similar (ish) shooting of a white teenager by a black cop is being handled by the authorities completely differently! That’s right, you dumbfucks, this officer is being immediately and vigorously investigated, the officer’s name was released, the victim wasn’t denied medical care, nor was his body left on the street for hours. It’s almost like we treat black and white people differently in our justice system! And if you want to argue that the fucking Salt Lake City PD (oh shit, was I able to read about this case in the NATIONAL NEWS?!?!?! ) is racist against white people, you are fucking out of your mind.
So, nice try, you asshole, I know you were salivating over finding a case to compare this to Mike Brown, but, even with this timing, you’re not even fucking close to proving your racist “point.”
What’s your wallpaper on your phone and/or computer?
My laptop wallpaper is a nice green leather pattern, like you’d see on the benches in Parliament. You know, THAT. And my phone background is a nice blackwatch plaid. That seemed the most phone-y tartan to me.
When you walk into a bar, what do you typically order?
Beer or whiskey. I actually drink red wine the most these days, but there’s something truly disgusting about most bar wine. I didn’t drink wine for years because my only experience with it had been comedy club wine. Then, in my thirties, I went out to dinner at a nice restaurant and my friends ordered wine and it was good. I was stunned. Maybe the key is not wrapping the bottle in Saran wrap at the end of the night? And keeping the same bottle for two months? I don’t know, I’m no James Beard over here.
What’s the one word you are guilty of using too often?
I tend to say “Yeah” three times in quick succession when I am indicating to someone that I understand what I am hearing. “Yeahyeahyeah.” When I hear myself say it, I cringe, because it happens a lot, and also because it kind of sounds like, “Please shut up now.” Which is probably what I’m saying.
What is the last thing you searched for on Google?
The REAL killers (no results).
Who is the last person that called or texted you?
My wife. WHAT A LETDOWN, BUZZFEEDERS. Nothing against my wife, obviously, but of course that’s the last person who texted me. I wish I had a more prolific text relationship with several Twilight cast members, but it’s only once or twice a week.
What was the last awkward situation you were in and how did you handle it?
When I realized a popular website tricked me into writing a bunch of content for them. I responded by falling for it.
When is the last time you went to a theater?
Last spring. I was in London doing standup and on a day off I saw a play called Peter and Alice, starring Ben Whishaw and Judi Dench as the real-life inspirations for Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland, meeting in a bookstore. It was delightfully sad.
What TV show should everyone should be watching?
I love the Danish political drama Borgen, which is an excellent show with an amazing lead in Sidse Babette Knudsen as the Prime Minister of Denmark. Bonus: it’s subtitled, and sometimes a perfectly innocuous image will be be paired with a subtitle that accidentally renders the frame hilariously bleak. (see attached)
And what is your TV guilty pleasure?
I REGRET NOTHING.
What’s the first album you bought?
La Grande Storia del Rock, which had the Beatles on the cover, and so I thought it was a Beatles album. But one side was The Beatles backing Tony Sheridan on junk like “My Bonnie” and the other side was a bootleg of some Cavern Club set that sounded like someone was outside the Cavern Club holding a portable tape recorder up to a drinking glass which was being held up to a wall of the Cavern Club. I was in 8th grade, granted, but the copy on the album sleeve not being in English should have been a major tipoff.
What music are you currently listening to?
Dark Comedy by Open Mike Eagle and The Both by The Both.
What movie makes you laugh the most?
The Wrong Guy starring Dave Foley. You gotta check it out. So much great stuff.
What is the one food you cannot resist?
Pizza. Congratulations to pizza for being the Best Food of All Time for two hundred consecutive years!
What drives you absolutely crazy?
Littering! People! COME ON! ESPECIALLY QUIT LEAVING GUM ALL OVER THE GODDAMNED PLACE. AND ADULTS, STOP CHEWING GUM, WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU.
Pick one: Kittens or puppies?
Kittens. It’s a tight race, but kittens have the edge because puppies go through that biting thing where they gnaw on your hands when you try to pet them.
New York or Los Angeles?
Los Angeles. The end!
Comedy or drama?
To perform: comedy. To watch: drama.
Bacon or Nutella?
Bacon, although I do admire Nutella’s attempt to trick moms into thinking smearing some chocolate paste onto bread is somehow a healthy snack for your child.
’80s or ’90s?
They’re both pretty gross, but 80s pop music was just bananas. 80s it is!
Hannah Montana or Lizzie McGuire?
And finally: tell us a secret.
You can watch Paul’s series Speakeasyhere and his latest episode (featuring Breaking Bad’s RJ Mitte!) right here.
One of the first comedy albums I was ever given was “Reality… What A Concept.” I loved it. I loved “Mork & Mindy.” I even loved Robert Altman’s “Popeye.” Robin Williams meant a lot to me when I was a kid. I knew nothing of drug use or depression. It never occurred to me that comedians, these magical creatures that I worshiped, ever felt anything other than the serene satisfaction derived from making people laugh.
Eventually, I started doing standup myself, and I very quickly learned that comedians were all too human. There is no less sadness in the comedy community than there is in any other workforce; that is to say, jobs are jobs and people are people and no occupation makes anyone depression-proof. This both comforts and frustrates me.
Robin Williams made me laugh so many times. So many times. When I was a kid, having problems of my own, feeling unpleasantly different from the people who populated my world, I found sanctuary watching this guy on TV who was celebrated for being a weirdo, for being an oddball, for being silly. He was praised for having a mind that produced delightful absurdities with great speed. No one told him to be quiet. No one tried to make him act like everyone else. He was a hero to me.
I had occasion to meet him once, not too long ago, and he could not have been nicer or friendlier or calmer. He was just there to watch the show that was happening that night. He wasn’t trying to get on stage; he just — still — loved comedy.
I didn’t tell him any of the things I just wrote here. No doubt, he heard similar things from countless people over his decades-long career. And it’s a colossal shame that being a meaningful presence in the lives of many people, family, friends and strangers alike, isn’t an impenetrable bulwark against despair. It’s profoundly unfair that, if he couldn’t live forever, he couldn’t at least feel able to keep going for his allotted time. I know something of depression, and how bottomless and relentless and insurmountable it feels, but I have never known the unfathomable despair that Robin Williams must have felt. I can’t even begin to imagine it.
Robin Williams will live on in shadows and light and sound, at least. He will continue to comfort weird little kids (and odd adults, for that matter) with his performances, those who know his work today and those who have yet to be born, who may experience him ten, fifty, a hundred years from now. But this is cold comfort indeed.
There will be much celebration, in the coming weeks and months, of Robin Williams’ life and career. But perhaps the best tribute to him would be if we all reached out to the troubled people in our lives and let them know that we are here for them. Because Robin Williams was there for us.