Ambassador Nancy Flips Us the Bird

Oh, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy…

You just don’t get it, do you? Did you consult your spin doctors or PR staff before you published your recent comments in the Sacramento Bee? Because honestly, they should not have let you out of the gate with that first paragraph. For anyone who hasn’t read them, a few days ago, on October 30th, right before the Pinksploitation Tsunami otherwise known as Breast Cancer Awareness Month was over for another year, Ambassador Brinker decided to respond to those of us who have questioned the wisdom of the rampant pink corporate merchandising and program priorities of Susan G. Komen for the Cure. To all of the bloggers, journalists and activist organizations who have evaluated, analyzed and questioned Komen, particularly after the Home Shopping Network’s marketing debut of Komen’s “Promise Me” Perfume, she opened her response with the following remark:

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and every year at this time we hear grumblings about pink, the color of the breast cancer movement.

Nancy, let me just say that I want to thank you for belittling me and dozens of others for trying to call you and Komen to account, because now I don’t even have to pretend to be polite about this. You’ve driven me to this, you know, so don’t say I didn’t warn you:

Grumbling, by the way, is what my stomach does if I’ve forgotten to eat lunch. And I won’t be silencing it with pink cake, Nancy, I assure you. While I’m at it, I thought I’d repost a little ditty I composed a few months ago. Perhaps you might like to dance to it at your next Painting Wall Street Pink fundraiser party. Although Steve Simmons, Komen’s NYC Young Professionals executive committee treasurer, recruited a lot of men to attend the event, stating, “I don’t mind being a pimp to cure a disease,” I do mind being asked to whore for pink. But, hey, that’s just me.

Stop Pinking! The Amazon’s Remix (click on this link to play mp3 tune!)

Stop Pinking!

Hello, hello, Big Pink, you called? I can’t hear a thing
I’m a tired patient in the Club, you see, see
What what what did you say? You want me to buy some pink?
Sorry, I don’t feel so good, I’m kinda busy

I’m kinda busy
K-kinda busy
Sorry, I don’t feel so good
I’m kinda busy

Just a second, you say that you’re working on a cure
Selling all this pink shit, making money that’s for sure.
You shoulda made your plans by talking to people like me
Instead you’re merchandising my disease, I see, see

Stop pinking, stop pinking,
I don’t want your pink anymore
I left my breasts on that cold surgical floor
Stop pinking, stop pinking,
I don’t want your pink anymore
I lost my breasts, not my mind, on that cold floor

[Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh]
Stop merchandising me
[Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh]
I’m busy
[Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh]
Stop merchandising me

Call all you want, but there’s no one home
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone
‘Cause I’m sick in the Club, I ain’t buying your bubb’
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone

Call all you want, but there’s no one home
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone
‘Cause I’m sick in the Club, I ain’t buying your bubb’
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone

Oh, the way you blowin’ up my phone
Won’t make me heal no faster
Get through treatment faster
Save my girls no faster

I should’ve left my phone at home
‘Cause this is a disaster
Callin’ like a collector
Sorry, I cannot answer

Not that I don’t need help, I just don’t need no pink
And I am sick and tired of it all around me
Sometimes I feel like I live in Pink Central Station
Tonight I’m not buyin’ no pink, ’cause I’ll be sleepin’

‘Cause I’ll be sleepin’
‘Cause I’ll be sleepin’
Tonight I’m not buyin’ no pink
‘Cause I’ll be sleepin’

Stop pinking, stop pinking,
I don’t want your pink anymore
I left my breasts on that cold surgical floor
Stop pinking, stop pinking,
I don’t want your pink anymore
I lost my breasts, not my mind, on that cold floor

Stop pinking, stop pinking,
I don’t want your pink anymore
I lost my breasts but I won’t be your pink whore
Stop pinking, stop pinking,
I don’t want your pink anymore
I lost my breasts but I won’t be your pink whore

[Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh]
Stop merchandising me
[Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh]
I’m busy
[Eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh eh]
Stop merchandising me

Call all you want, but there’s no one home
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone
‘Cause I’m sick in the Club, I ain’t buying your bubb’
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone

Call all you want, but there’s no one home
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone
‘Cause I’m sick in the Club, I ain’t buying your bubb’
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone

My telephone,
My my my my telephone,
‘Cause I’m sick in the Club, I ain’t buying your bubb’
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone

My telephone,
My my my my telephone,
‘Cause I’m sick in the Club, I ain’t buying your bubb’
And you’re not gonna reach my telephone

 


You can listen here to the original of this song, “Telephone” by Lady Gaga. I was inspired to write the lyrics after a hellacious week during which two of my friends were getting mastectomies, one a single, the other a double, neither of which were assisted by any intervention from Komen. I’ll be working on the video version soon…


For a mere sampling of some of our ‘grumbling,’ here are some links:

Komen: Please Leave Me Alone
Ko-Mart.Org
Is There A Cure for Hypocrisy?
The Scent of Exploitation
Komen By The Numbers
Komen Sells Out
Lawsuits for the Cure
Komen’s Wild Ride, one of the best ‘grumblings’ ever written, in my opinion.
Raise A Stink!
The Cure for Pink (contains the infamous Promise Me HSN video)
Komen’s Leadership in Question


Please click on the post title or the comment link below to post a response.

pixelstats trackingpixel
Share
This entry was written by Kathi, posted on Wednesday, November 02, 2011 at 03:11 pm, filed under Attitude, Fighting the Pink Peril and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink . Post a comment below or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

Leave a Reply