Precious: A Dumb Story...

First let me apologize for placing the above picture on here for you to have to view...I know...it repulses me too...

Just get ready to see a lot more of the above...woman...in the near future. Up for an Academy Award along with her associated film Precious, the white, liberal media will be tripping over themselves to point out what a wonderful, redeeming, educational, enlightening film this is and what a nuanced performance this woman puts on.

Nothing gets a white liberal more excited than looking down their noses at minorities and saying "oh, those poor, poor people, but for the grace of god go I" and then returning to their million dollar homes while driving in their new Lexus. Merely by feeling guilty over the portrayal of minorities in a film for a few moments somehow washes their minds clean. Even better than when a bunch of rich, white, old people can get together to promote and reward a film about the plight of downtrodden and abused minorities in America. Such is the case here.

Every cliche adversity of modern Oprahfied society is heaped upon the primary character in this film--rape, incest, emotional abuse, poverty, illiteracy, AIDS, teen pregnancy, motherhood of a down-syndrome baby...Hell, I'm sure the original writer (a lesbian, hippie "poet" from New York via San Fran) had "Precious" as a Siamese-twin in the original version before her editor said "no, that's going TOO far..." Yet we are told this is a film of hope and change (sound familiar?) Utter garbage...

Women will go to see this film for the same reason they watch Oprah--because their deluded into thinking that watching fictionalized (or non-fictionalized from time to time on the bulbous billionaire's show) versions of personal tragedy somehow allow them to understand and empathize with the underbelly of society while keeping their hands and dishrags clean.

Men (at least straight men) will avoid this film like the plague and whether they realize it or not, see it for what it truly is--an attempt by the author, director, producer (of which Oprah is one, surprise, surprise) to make you feel awful for having a decent life and not wallowing in the filth portrayed herein.

When it comes to award time and the director gets up or the actress gets up and starts thanking everyone from here to Timbuktu for the chance to put this garbage on screen just remember who it is that is pushing this fantasy world of childhood horrors and think about why they're doing it--the billions in their bank accounts and their walled compounds say it isn't because they really care...