I don't know why someone asked Russell Crowe for parenting advice, but the question launched a tweetstorm over the weekend for Crowe that had him deleting tweets and apologizing.
It started on Thursday when a follower asked Crowe if he should circumcise his son. That was spark to gasoline.
Russell replied, "Circumcision is barbaric and stupid. Who are you to correct nature? Is it real that GOD requires a donation of foreskin? Babies are perfect."
Then he added, "I love my Jewish friends, I love the apples and the honey and the funny little hats but stop cutting yr babies."
But when Russell got nasty Tweets from some of his other followers, he really went off . . . saying, "I will always stand for the perfection of babies, i will always believe in God, not man's interpretation of what God requires.
"last of it, if u feel it is yr right 2 cut things off yr babies please unfollow and [eff] off, I'll take attentive parenting over barbarism."
By Friday morning, Russell had removed all his Tweets, and posted the following apology: "I have a deep and abiding love for all people of all nationalities, I'm very sorry that I have said things on here that have caused distress.
My wife and I snipped both my sons. The first experience was so unpleasant that my wife wouldn't attend the procedure for the second. The boys are strapped to little boards and administered a variety of medications to lessen the pain, but it is still a traumatic experience to watch - I won't discount that.
We did it to them for purely selfish reasons. My wife wanted the kids to look like daddy although the hygienic argument also weighed in to our decision.
Am I less of a parent because I snipped my kids? I'd hope not.
Is Russell Crowe less of a parent because he smokes? I'd argue so.
By his own account he's had more than 18,000 cigarettes in his lifetime.
Now he did try to quit last summer. The thought of his kids seeing him with a cigarette in his mouth was a little much.
"The reality break was that my kids never saw me smoke.... I was in my office ... and I thought I heard my office door open and I looked around and couldn't see anything, so I had my cigarette. Later on I leant over to put my cigarette out and he was lying between the couch and the table and he very definitely saw me having a smoke. And that was my very last one." [source]
That was in July 2010, and it wasn't his "very last one." By November he was off the wagon back with a cancer stick between his fingers while still "trying to quit." Now who's to say if he's since quit again, but one can only imagine the diapers he changed, kisses he gave and hands he held during the times when he slips a little bit.
After all, he is a proponent of "attentive parenting."
I don't know about you, but I'll take my chances with the absence of a 1/4 inch of foreskin over 18-years of cuddling my kids with beefy mitts that have been soaked in carcinogens for hours each day.
Your mileage may vary.
"
Yeah, I'll admit it.. I'm a baby. A big one. The slightest sign of a sniffle and I'm locked on the couch with a remote control. Don't ask me to help with a diaper, take out the trash or lift my feet for the vacuum, I'm a man and I'm sick.
The stuff of man colds is so legendary; the term even has its own Urban Dictionary entry:
"The name 'man cold' disguises the true terrible, debilitating disease that is the man cold. Nearly all men will die from man colds unless they are administered immediately with large amounts of mindless TV such as daytime TV, or children's cartoons. It is essential that they not move from bed or a comfy sofa to allow for rehabilitation, and must have tissues and man cold medicine (such as chocolate biscuits, McDonalds, or a nice cup of tea) brought to them constantly by a nearby female."
So is it any surprise there would be a website that would put men perfectly in their place as the babies of the family?
ManBabies.com is a site full of photos that simply transpose the heads of men and their sons. It's creepy good for a few laughs, or maybe it's just a guy thing.
"
A funny thing happened on the way home from school the other day, a friend told me; she was doing the usual carpool duty escorting a flock of grade two children home when a song from Rihanna came on the radio.
The mom had bopped along to the track in her head for a few weeks, but the chorus coming from the back seats of her Odyssey almost stopped her dead in the highway.
"Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it," they were screaming and giggling.
The girls were singing along. They're all of 7 and 8 years old, they had no idea what they were singing. To them they were just random words put to a good music track, but they were shouting them out like it was an anthem for their weekend. To my friend it was petrifying.
Rihanna doesn't want you to blame her for that scene, though. She's fighting back against criticism of her latest video by claiming she's not anyone's parent.
“I’m a 23 year old rock star with NO KIDS! What’s up with everybody wantin' me to be a parent? I’m just a girl; I can only be your/our voice! Cuz we all know how difficult/embarrassing it is to communicate touchy subject matters to anyone especially our parents!” she wrote. “The music industry isn’t exactly Parents R Us! We have the freedom to make art, LET US! It's your job to make sure they don't turn out like US.” [source]
It's a hard thing, to be a young 23-year old pop star. Your hardcore fan base is not usually your direct peers, it's a group a decade or so behind. Sure, people Rihanna's age dig her music, but they're not the rabid ones propelling her career. Just ask Avril Lavigne - once she stopped inspiring tweens, her career stalled out.
Rihanna may not be your kids' parent, but one has to wonder what would happen to her career if she stopped getting your kids' disposable income.
Same for Katy Perry. Her bubble gum image is candy for little kids. Her sickly sweet songs infect your ears and brain in hum along verses that are dripping with sexual innuendo.
I Kissed a Girl and Teenage Dream are two of the most catchy songs you'll ever hear, with lyrics entirely inappropriate for the Bieber patrol.
I admit, I'm partly to blame. I'm a morning radio dj on a top 40 station that plays songs for "moms in minivans." We tailor our program to be positive and family friendly, while at the same time walking a line to keep the single crowd interested.
I finally listened to the lyrics of Katy Perry's latest with Kanye West, ET, and just about spat my coffee all over the control board.
Tell me what’s next, alien sex
I’ma disrobe you, then I’ma probe you
Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me
Infect me with your love and
Fill me with your poison
How could I be playing that knowing little kids are memorizing the words and singing them in the back seat?
Both Rihanna and Katy Perry will be touring Canada this summer. Tours that will not rely on a crowd of bar stars to fill the arenas, but rather moms and dads escorting troops of kids who have begged for months to see live what they've been singing on the radio all summer.
No, Rihanna is not your kids' parent. You are.
So what do you do when your family's favourite radio station jams a song with lyrics that are uncomfortable to you?
Printer-friendly version