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Celebrity

America's Got talent/Youtube

“How do we know that the dog is a real dog?” asked Simon Cowell.

What dog owner wouldn’t want to jam out to Queen with their pup while the world watches? Of course, our version probably wouldn’t be nearly as impressive as what Roni Sagi and her black and white border collie, aptly named Rhythm, did for America's Got Talent in August 2024.

First off, audiences knew they’d instantly be in for a treat when Sagi and Rhythm recreated the band’s famous pose for “Bohemian Rhapsody.” But it only got better from there in a routine that featured a mash-up of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Don’t Stop Me Now.”

The dance duo wowed judges and audiences alike with synchronized steps, turns, flips, and even a cool bridge pose trick (seriously, this was a dog owner’s dream come to life). Simon Cowell jokingly asked “How do we know that the dog is a real dog?” because Rhythm was just that good.

Sagi would later end up sharing that Rhythm earned his name from an early age, already tapping his little feet on her bed at only 6 weeks old. By that point, Sagi had already had experience training therapy dogs, which undoubtedly gave her a good foundation for working with her little “tornado storm.”

Perhaps it shouldn't come as that much of a surprise that Rhythm is so gifted. After all, border collies are notorious for being able to pick up skills quickly, and there have been several border collies that have broken world records—including records for intelligence, balance, and skateboarding (yes, really).

But Sagi seems to credit their chemistry less on Rhythm’s species traits, and more on his individual personality. “It’s so much fun to have a partner that wants [to perform] as much as you,” she said. “He wants to do it all, and he wants to do it now, and he wants to do it as good as he can.”

Down in the comments, online viewers shared their praises—and awe—for Rhythm’s performance.

“This was the most amazing dog act I've seen!” one person wrote.

“That precious dog Rhythm is SO talented and smart!!! I don’t understand how he knows what to do when his back is to her?!! This dog is truly dancing and just extremely talented!!!” added another.

Another said, “This dog is the most energetic and enthusiastic I've ever seen.”

Of course, Rhythm wasn't getting all the love. One person wrote, “I don't usually like dog acts, but this was impressive. Roni is very creative with what she does and obviously a great dancer herself and trainer.”

Maybe we can’t get all dogs to perform quite on this level, but it does show us just how amazing man’s best friend really is.

Watch the full act below:

- YouTubewww.youtube.com


This story originally appeared last year.

"Macho Man'" Randy Savage during a 1992 appearance on "The Arsenio Hall Show."

A surprisingly wholesome video clip of the late iconic professional wrestler "Macho Man" Randy Savage went viral in 2022 for the surprisingly vulnerable answer he gave when asked if he ever cries.

The 1992 interview with Arsenio Hall began with Hall joking that Savage's middle name is 'Macho,' and asking if he ever cried. If you're not familiar with professional wrestling in the 1980s and early '90s, it was common for the biggest names of the day—Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant, Ultimate Warrior, Mr. Perfect and, of course, Macho Man—to take on personas that often embodied what we might now call "toxic masculinity." Many of them were after all what they call "heels," in wrestling circles, aka the bad guys.

So, it was pretty surprising to see the downright deep and wholesome response Savage gave to Hall without hesitation.

"It's OK for macho men to show every emotion available," Savage says in the clip. "I've cried a thousand times and I'm gonna cry some more."

This explanation of macho men being able to show all emotions was probably just as relevant then as it is now. The notion that it's not just OK, but completely normal and acceptable for men to cry goes against everything that some masculine norms have told boys from a young age. Not being able to express authentic emotions outside of anger can lead to mental health issues in men.

Watch the full clip below:

"I've soared with the eagles, I've slithered with the snakes and I've been everywhere in between," Savage continued. "Understand this: Nobody likes a quitter. Nobody said life was easy. So, if you get knocked down, take the standing eight count, get back up and fight again!"

As a public figure that boys, teens, and young men looked up to, it was pretty incredible to see Savage appear on national television and dispel the myth that tough guys don't cry and then take it one step further by proudly stating that he himself had cried "a thousand times" was powerful.

While this interview was filmed in the '90s, boys and men today are still fighting against the cultural norm of the hyper-masculine male image that includes bottling up emotions and not asking for help. All men experience a range of emotions, including sadness, because men are people and Macho Man is here to remind everyone it's OK to cry. Even when you're "macho."


This article originally appeared three years ago.

Pop Culture

Emma Thompson's witty, heartfelt tribute to Alan Rickman is one for the ages

May we all have a friend who shares our quirks this lovingly and articulately.

Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman starred in seven films together.

Actor Alan Rickman gave us so many memorable characters, from the terrorist Hans Gruber in "Die Hard" to the evil hero Severus Snape in "Harry Potter" to the unfaithful husband who broke Emma Thompson's heart in "Love Actually."

Though he was often cast as a villain, Rickman's distinctive voice and irresistable screen presence made audiences love him. He brought a unique human touch even to his most odious bad guy characters, a quality that makes perfect sense when you hear Thompson, his friend and co-star in seven films, talk about his character in real life.

In a moving tribute upon the release of his diaries, Thompson shared insights into the virtues and quirks that made Rickman "blissfully contradictory."

Thompson is at the top of her award-winning writer game here, and her words about Alan Rickman are filled with heart, wit, respect, admiration and love. It's truly a eulogy for the ages.

Watch (or read the full transcript below):

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

People love Thompson's tribute to her friend and some have even shared their own stories of their encounters with Alan Rickman:

"A close friend of mine bumped into him in a theatre in London many years ago. My friend instantly recognised Mr Rickman and from nowhere, instantly found the courage to ask him for his autograph. Having neither pen nor paper for this, he asked Mr Rickman if he would mind waiting a moment whilst he collected the items from somewhere, anywhere! The moment became at least 10 minutes or so, and when my friend ran back to a now empty theatre foyer, he noticed one solitary figure. Mr Rickman had waited patiently for my friend to give him what he asked for."

"I was lucky enough to work with him on a film. At lunchtime I joined the line for a meal and as I payed and went to turn to look for a table, someone knocked into me from behind and my drink went flying. I turned and it was Alan, he apologized put his hand on my shoulder and said let me get you another. He came back with a cup of tea and I was so overwhelmed. I was shocked how he was so down to earth and a real gentleman."

"I meet him once in Boots and said hello, he realised it was a reflex to recognising a known face. He picked up an item we both were looking at, smiled and said “well hello there are we going to arm wrestle for this?” That deep tone rendered me mute, I realised it was Mr Rickman and instantly denied needing this forgotten thing, apologised for well nothing really, smiled and backed away. He was a giant of a fellow on and off the stage and will be missed."

"Everything she said is true. I was fortunate to have dinner with him and his wife and his drama teacher. He was charming and friendly and shared some great ideas about directing, which I use today in my theater group. He is missed by many."

Indeed he is.

Here's the full transcript of Thompson's tribute:

"The most remarkable thing about the first days after Alan died was the number of actors, poets, musicians, playwrights and directors who wanted to express their gratitude for all the help he'd given them. I don't think I know anyone in this business who has championed more aspiring artists nor unerringly perceived so many great ones before they became great. Quite a number said, latterly, that they'd been too shy to thank him personally. They had found it hard to approach him. And of all the contradictions in my blissfully contradictory friend (hold on, Thompson), this is perhaps the greatest this combination of profoundly nurturing and imperturbably distant.

He was not, of course, distant. He was alarmingly present at all times the inscrutability was partly a protective shield. If anyone did approach him with anything like gratitude or even just a question, they would be greeted with a depth of sweetness that no one who didn't know him could even guess at. And he was not, of course, unflappable. I could flap him like nobody's business and when I did he was fierce with me and it did me no end of good.

He was generous and challenging, dangerous and comical, sexy and androgynous, virile and peculiar, temperamental and languid, fastidious and casual, the list could go on. I'm sure you can add to it. There was something of the sage about him, and had he had more confidence and been at all corruptible, he could probably have started his own religion.

His taste in all things from sausages to furnishings appeared to me anyway to be impeccable. His generosity of spirit was unsurpassed and he had so much time for people I used to wonder if he ever slept or ever got time for himself. A word not traditionally associated with Alan is gleeful, but when he was genuinely amused he was absolutely the essence of glee. There would be a holding back as the moment built, and then a sudden leaning forward and a swinging around of the torso as a vast, impish grin flowered, sometimes accompanied by an inarticulate shout of laughter. It was almost as if he was surprised by himself. It was my life's mission to provide those moments. I remember Imelda Staunton nearly killing him by telling him a story about my mother and an unfortunate incident with some hashish—it's a really good story, I won't tell it now—I've never seen him laugh more before or since. It was a bit like watching someone tickling the Sphinx.

One Christmas Eve party I had a sprig of mistletoe hanging up at home, and I was loitering under it and turned to find Alan bearing down on me. I lifted up my chin hopefully. He smiled and approached. I puckered. He leaned in under the mistletoe and a sudden change came over his face. His eyes started to glitter and his nostrils to quiver. He lifted up a hand, reached in, and pulled a longish hair out of my chin. 'Ow!' I said. 'That's an incipient beard,' he said, handing me the hair and walking off.

That was the thing about Alan—you never knew if you were going to be kissed or unsettled, but you couldn't wait to see what would come next. And the trouble with death is that there is no next. There's only what was, and for that, I am profoundly and heartbrokenly grateful. So the last thing we did together was change a plug on a standard lamp in his hospital room. The task went the same way as everything we have ever done together. I had a go. He told me to try something else. I tried. It didn't work, so he had a go. I got impatient. I took it from him. I tried it again. It still wasn't right. We both got slightly irritable, then he patiently took it all apart again and got the right lead into the right hole. I screwed it in with a screwdriver. We complained about how fiddly it was, and then we had a cup of tea. Took us at least half an hour, this thing, and he said after, 'Well it's a good thing I decided not to become an electrician.'

I'm still heartbroken that Alan's gone, but these diaries bring back so much of what I remember of him. There is that sweetness I mentioned, his generosity, his champion of others, his fierce, critical eye, his intelligence, his humor. He was the ultimate ally in life, art, and politics. I trusted him absolutely. He was, above all things, a rare and unique human being and we shall not see his like again."


This article originally appeared last year.
Celebrity

1930s actress gave up Hollywood at the peak of her career because she refused to 'pass' as white

The character that made her famous was ashamed of her heritage, but Fredi Washington was not.

1930s actress refused to 'pass' as white, so she quit Hollywood instead.

A lot has changed since the early to mid 1900s. We no longer see "whites only" signs tauntingly hanging above water fountains or outside of pools or restaurants. The only place you'll find a sign that says "No Blacks. No Mexicans. No dogs" now is inside of a civil rights museum, but this wasn't always the case.

Living in the 21st century it can be easy to forget that in our not too distant past, segregation, racism and discrimination was the norm. Discrimination was written into laws and it took brave people to stand up against a system that held them as second class citizens. It wasn't just the civil rights leaders we learn about in school that made a stand, it took people from all industries and walks of life to speak up even if it meant they may lose the little privileges they had.

Fredrika "Fredi" Carolyn Washington was one of those people that used her voice during a time when it would've been easier to stay quiet. Washington was an actress and dancer in the 1930s who catapulted to fame with her portrayal of Peola Johnson, the daughter of a Black housekeeper who decided to pass for white to obtain access to better opportunities and social standing in a segregated America in the 1934 film Imitation of Life.

Just like her character, Washington was so fair-skinned that she looked white to those who didn't know her, though that's where the similarities to her character ended. Though she had blue-grey eyes and light brown hair with a loose curl, she had no personal interest in pretending to be white even if doing so would greatly benefit her career and her life.

Washington explained to the Chicago Defender in 1935 at the height of her fame, “I have never tried to pass for white and never had any desire, I am proud of my race.” In Imitation of Life, I was showing how a girl might feel under the circumstances but I am not showing how I felt.”

After her success playing Peola, Washington faced a dilemma. In order for her career to keep thriving after her breakout hit, she was advised to pass as white to get more roles. At the time, Black women were type cast in servant roles like maids, cooks, or caregivers, but Washington was too fair-skinned to believably play those parts. If she wanted lead roles, she would need to pass as white since only white women were allowed to play lead romantic interests.

"Early in my career it was suggested that I might get further by passing as French or something exotic. But there was no way I could do that, feeling the way I do. I felt you do not have to be white to be good. I've spent most of my life trying to prove that to people who thought otherwise," Washington said in 1945.

Washington later starred in the 1937 film One Mile from Heaven, which was her first role since her success as Peola three years earlier. The actress had to use makeup to darken her skin for the role and, afterwards, she decided to walk away from Hollywood for good. Instead, Washington focused on African-American Civil Rights, even co-founding the Negro Actors Guild of America (NAG).

Washington expressed no regrets about her refusal to pass, saying, "But to pass, for economic or other advantages, would have meant that I swallowed, whole hog, the idea of Black inferiority. I did not think up this system, and I was not responsible for how I looked. I'm a Black woman and proud of it and I will fight injustices and encourage others to fight them until the day I die or until there is nothing to fight against."

While quite a few Black people with fairer complexions and racially ambiguous features chose to pass as white during segregation (and beyond), Washington wasn't alone in her refusal. Passing as white often meant completely alienating yourself from your family and friends, participating in the very treatment you were trying to avoid having inflicted on yourself, and living in fear of being found out. In fact, many Black authors of the Harlem Renaissance penned novels and essays about passing and its consequences, the most prominent of which being Passing by Nella Larsen (1929).

Washington rejected any idea of passing to make her life easier. Instead, she focused her efforts on bettering the lives of Black Americans through her co-founding of the NAG, her work with the NAACP, and lobbying for federal protections for Black people. She lived to be 90 years old.