Politics, White Folks, Drugs, and Fools

Shout out to all the hypocritical Negroes who complain about BET being an embarrassment to Black America, but still look at it 24/7. Also, bonus shout out to the fellas who dial those sex lines featuring white chicks advertised on BET. Yep, diversity is a good thing son!!
But check this, since my old man said, "dumb niggers are dangerous", I’m gonna take his advice, so for this post I’m gonna change the skin color of my target audience. Are you kidding me, although a few Black women (and men) could fit these shoes, I’m not ready for another ass kicking. So today, it’s White Folks, Politics, Drugs and Zip Damn Fools, because they all have something in common. Hum, you say?
Let me start by saying I’m leery of white people, okay. Now don’t take that wrong. Hell, I have one white friend, and I’m not a racist by any stretch of imagination. Wait, does that have the same feeling/flavor/sting as a white person saying "I have Black friends’? Well, all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty back together again. Yeah, figure out how that relates to anything I’ve said. Nevertheless, I’m gonna say it, I have a white friend!!
But listen, I hate white people. Yup, I said it. I really hate em. They’re ugly, stupid and obnoxious. And they’re a bunch of narrow minded privileged bigots. I see white people as a scourge that needs to be eliminated from the world. You’re sitting there thinking "damn this motherfucker is crazy", ain’t you? Well, therein lays the problem…..because you know what? Most of my opinions are really on point and need to be said. Only problem is, coming from my mouth they tend to lose legitimacy. I’m a Black man, but hold that thought.
Okay, white folks are now on the floor, so let me drag out drugs, politics and a few fools.
Well, I have to raise my hand for a friend. She was a heroin addict for over twenty five years. Since the age of 25, she loved the comfort heroin gave her, however, back then, if you would have asked her if she was an addict, she would have told you hell no. How could she be an addict? She had a college degree, a high five figure job, a family and a nice home. That’s certainly not the stereotypical image of an addict. Yet, every day of her life, some years ago, she was flying high in the sky, flying high without ever leavin’ the ground. She went to the places where danger awaited her and it was bound to forsake her, but she was so stupid minded. She couldn’t help it, she was stupid minded, and she’d go crazy when she couldn’t find it. In the mornings she’d be alright, but soon the night brought all the pains, the pain, oh the pain! Yet she’d go to the places where the good feelin’ awaited her, self-destruction was in her hands, Oh Lord, so stupid minded. She was hooked to that boy who makes slaves out of men and she’d go crazy when she couldn’t find it. Believe me, she was flying high without ever leaving the ground, and she didn’t see nothin but trouble! She had to cry out, "help me somebody".
Damn, yawl gonna have me crying up in here thinking about her bad days. And check this; many of you may have noticed that many of those words were from Marvin Gaye’s song "Flying High". Many of those words were his, and I cried while writing them, because she fought those exact same demons. And, Marvin didn’t win his battle.
Okay, this pie is about ready to put in the fiery oven. We have white folks, drugs and a fool, so now we need a cup of politics, and then it’s patty cake patty cake, baker man, I’m gonna spank this thang with a very heavy hand.
As political debates go, the lines of opposition are usually drawn deep in the sand. Each side digs in, gets very entrenched in their positions, and then, nobody budges. And again, my old man told me not to be anybody’s fool and don’t play another man’s game, so taking his advice, I generally don’t get too involved in the tick-tack-patty-wack of local politics. But sometimes I’ll listen on the sidelines and add a little commentary on the ongoing affairs. So, in short, I don’t do local politics, I do people. But birds of a feather flock together and why do fools fall in love? Huh?

Remember when I said I have a white friend? Well, over the last year, over at my blog "Angry Black Man" I had been noticing the comments of this one white dude, they were quite different than most political debaters. His had a ring of openness and honesty that I’ve seldom seen in most political discussions. It was obvious to me that the man had a wealth of wisdom, and an education. I asked myself, "Who is this white dude that’s not afraid to call a spade a spade, and bigoted dumb white folks… bigoted, racist ass dumb white folks?" Now you know, and he must obviously know, that his penchant for holding up a mirror to some of our evil white brothers could get a white man barred from the shores of America. But Homer is not alone.
Remember my paragraph that opened with "But Listen, I hate white people"? Well, actually, those ain’t my words; they belong to Joanna, who just happens to be a white woman. Damn, she was throwin blows on white folks, and her skin is like soft fallen snow. Wait, I don’t know if she’s soft, but I know she’s white. She seems to have acquired the honesty and lack of fear to speak about the evil ways of some white folks.
Joanna asked if I’d consider doing a guest post on "racism" or "drug addiction". See, about a year ago she dropped by my blog and witnessed some of my trials and tribulations; many of which concerned my personal failings and the consequences of such. I even sent her a copy of one of my speaking engagements. She apparently wanted to see if I was Memorex or just talking shit. Well, here I am, she has invited me in her house.
So now I have to bring this home by first mentioning a few words of my youngest son. He has a saying: "show me a 4-10 year old jerk child, and I’ll show you an adult asshole". Now, you know what; think about that for a few seconds. Take a little time to drift back in your memory. Think about those kids in your classroom who were sleep, jacking around and were just being a damn nuisance. They usually could be found in the back two rows of the classroom, talking shit and doing nothing other than the prescribed school activities. They certainly weren’t trying to learn anything. Where are they now? Well, I’d bet my last Hennessy flavored blunt (I love weed) that they’re still jerks, on Gilligan’s Island, lost in space, in jail, an institution, or they’re dead. But listen, I’ve come to believe an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, so the bulk of the blame doesn’t fall at their feet.
In walks the white racist, the bigot, and fools that fall in love with whomever and whatever. Now hold on tight, fasten your seat belts because I’m about to make a quick left turn. I’m going to drive by the house of a white fool. He lives at the intersection of Ignorance Avenue and Fools Road. We’ll be looking for a person that knows no sorrow. By definition he or she will be careless, callous, indifferent, and never breaks up or softens up for wrong doing. They hate knowledge and resist instruction. He or she won’t be hard to spot because again, by definition of the word fool, they despise wisdom and are closed minded. The biggest fools are deficient in judgment, sense, or understanding. They are easily deceived or duped and willingly engage in buffoonery and trifling activity. Damn, I better turn this car around, I’m wastin gas. There’s a white racist fool on every corner.
Look, we may not be who we think we are, nor want to be, but wisdom is learned by going through a storm, not by listening to popular opinions, or by living in the realm of a false self-image. My friend, by the definition of the word "addict", and by her actions, was a full blown addict. When she accepted that cold hard fact, it behooved her to take the responsibilities that would lead her out of her dark abyss. She had to admit to herself that she was a damn fool who wasn’t fooling anyone except herself. Now that was a hard pill to swallow. It wasn’t the shoes, it was her. It certainly wasn’t white folks, it was her. Her man, friends and family didn’t put drugs in her system, it was her, and she was the gatekeeper. She was the biggest fool around, but what about a time called now? That’s my motto, "What About a Time Called Now?" When in our life do we make a decision to really change? Is it when our backs are against a wall of no return? Is it when we become seriously ill with some disease that John Hopkins can’t cure? Why should we expect white folks to change? Their momma was a racist and their daddy was too, and they fell from that tree. The Tea Party, and all that flock, love flocking together. They’re obviously not looking for wisdom, and they love engaging in buffoonery and trifling activity, so why should they ever consider changing? They’re not going to be denied the basic rights afforded all Americans because of the color of their skin. And please, talking about a dark pit of lost hopes and no return, what kind of special kind of white racist would idolize that Black Bozo the Clown, Clarence Thomas?
Damn… drugs, white folks, fools and politics……… there’s a distinct connection. Some white folks exhibit the exact characteristics of a pimp or die, stomp down drug addict. Just like drug addicts and alcoholics, they love what they do, and they have no apparent reason to change. They would cut off their nose in spite of their face, and sell their wife’s poontang before they’d give a Black man an even playing field. All their friends are doing "it", so those birds are going to flock together. When they drink their hate and racist juice, it makes them feel powerful and in control, and to a large degree they are, so why should they change?
This is not an indictment of all white people. It’s an observation of the evil intrinsic nature of all humans. We all can be duped and led astray. Hey, as I said, I have a white friend.
Damn it, I was supposed to write a post on racism or addictions. You know, like drug and alcohol abuse and related treatments, but I got side tracked. Well, maybe not side-tracked, but I don’t know how much truth a person can handle in one day. See, Joanne has a link on her blog, one of those paid links "Drug Abuse Centers". Well, I have to say this too….. Treatment centers are one of the biggest pimp games in town. They’re a dismal failure. Hey, I’m talking about something I know about. My friend found herself in one the most respected treatment centers in the world. Oh yeah, and look…..the average numbers of "treatments" before a person gets a tiny whiff of a sustained recovery is 4.5 times, in and out those doors. It’s called "treatment", not a cure.
If you keep going back for treatment, somebody keeps gettin paid. Now hold up, the average cost is thirty to fifty thousand dollars! And guess who owns and runs those facilities… white folks! Oh yeah, there’s a whole lot of pimpin going on, and unfortunately they’re the only game in town. But I didn’t have time to tell you all the maddening news. But maybe if I’m invited back into your world, we can get down to all the sickening details. Recovery is possible but the overwhelming majority of people, who find themselves battling a substance abuse problem, never make it to the other side. Don’t look now but the numbers are less than two percent. That’s a cold hard fact, and I’d like to tell you why that’s true.

How the Sugar Sweet Rap Beats of Today Hijacked our Music, Arts, and Culture!!

Music……..It’s that unifying thing that bonds folks together who don’t even know each other, but because of the mutual love in our souls for that particular song, certified strangers are in actuality friends who have not yet met each other. Hum? Ain’t that a beautiful thing?

The interesting thing about this phenomenon is that the very same song can mean so many different things to so many different people. That’s another amazing thought. It goes even deeper than that…..music is a very powerful instrument that can motivate an individual or an entire people who share the same culture, to do exceptional things. Really exceptional things!

Music has a special way of touching your soul in places that no person can touch, because that song can literally take you back to that place you were when that song was popular. It can remind you of that person you haven’t seen for decades. It can make you feel emotions that you thought were long gone and banished, but are now just as fresh as when you lived through it all because of a song.

Time doesn’t minimize the emotions that flood every fiber of your being once that song stirs up what was so hidden deep down in the inner recesses of your soul. The Black community today doesn’t really have that connectedness to each other, and one of the reasons are because our entire culture has been hijacked by the corporate interests, as a new culture has been created for us to absorb with deadly results. We see it every day around us, but the change has been so gradual that we in essence have become that live frog slowly cooking in the pot of water on the stove that is coming to a slow boil without even realizing that he will soon become a meal.

This is not the world that I grew up in, and the music that I was immersed in from back in the day is what I utilize to escape this madness! No, I’m not in denial of the work that must be done in our communities, but in order to maintain my motivation to make a difference in my community, I must go “back” to when my world practiced a bit more of the ideals that I think are lacking so much today. I do this through deep meditation and absorbing the music from those great days.

Art, music, literary works, film, and all things creative are needed so much, and are the lifeline and precursor strength and unity for all Black communities. Once tampered with, it can yield disastrous results to say the least. Isn’t it evident in the present day as we see a stark difference from when we grew up?

I will be turning 58 in August 2013. This places me in a very unique position as are so many others who are aware and conscious in this age group to be able to see how far off of the mark we have gone, and how important it is for us to bring back those quality thought provoking creations through the arts that speak truth to power.

I, in my own small way have committed myself to doing just that, as I challenge all artists, musicians, spoken word artists, playwrights, actors, and comedians to step up the message in your work while still maintaining your sense of individuality. This is important, because we as creative thinkers have more power to affect the community around us than we actually give ourselves credit for.

 The so called “powers that be” may be able to control the thinking of the masses through their powerful media outlets, but singular artists who have banded together to bring a bold awareness to the people cannot be stopped as long as we remain uncompromised and unable to be sold out for a few dollars.

 Understand that it is those of us who have the great talents that are most likely to be the people who are more of a threat to the oppressors of this world at this time and all throughout history. It is those who think outside of the box and see beyond the veil that has been pulled down over the eyes of the masses that will eventually see the light because of the collective work that we do as artists.

 I’ve said it before on several other articles that I’ve written and I will briefly touch on it again to clarify my point. The downtrodden oppressed communities are the places where creativity will always be produced on a higher level because of the limitations of the amenities of the rich. We don’t have certain things in our poor communities, so what do we do? We go out and find a way to create something of a similar functionality. We find a way to get it!

 When you see graffiti on walls in the hood, that’s really an example of the frustrations and passion coming out in an uncensored fashion. It’s a way of expressing feelings, and it’s also a way of escaping the pain of living a life that is surrounded by hopelessness and hurt. We find a way to get around the reality of living in the box.  Also, it is those people who are the creative types that are the first to sound the drums for revolution and change.

So in order to continue to execute their deadly grip on the lives to which they suck the blood from like the leeches they are, the white man must find a way to discourage those downtrodden to not even consider developing their creative sides and forging forward. The money will be good because this is what they will use to hold you down, and after a time the revolutionary spirit from within will be diminished out of the fear of losing the few amenities that your oppressor has afforded you! Hum?

The white overseer knows that to banish those who beat the drums of revolution through their unique brand of creativity will leave a people without a common drumbeat to step in unison in their battle march. Without a unifying culture through music and the arts, we will be a people divided, hearing multiple confusing commands through a fraudulent culture created for our demise by our enemy.

This is a very serious thing, and because the beats sound good on these trashy ass songs, we suck it up without a second thought! But haven’t you heard of the term “sugar in the medicine?” Well in the case of our stolen hijacked culture it’s a case of sugar in the poison!

So if we have to reminisce and go back to a time when our creations were pure then so be it! If we have to rock some Marvin Gaye that raised our awareness in an ever changing world or play The Supremes so that our young girls can see what esteem building music sounds and feels like, then so be it also!

We can’t afford to go on this downward spiral anymore, and we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do to stop it! The negative momentum has been proceeding without resistance, so it will take a concerted focused effort in order for us to bring it to a dead halt! Let’s bring our true culture back and enjoy the benefits that come from it – the love, the brother/sisterhood and the collective sense of community!!!

My Father and Emmett Till

My old man enjoyed telling stories. Some educational… some fictional... some heartfelt…some exaggeration. Some too damn everything to actually be true.  Most of these stories, though, are now etched in my consciousness to the point that I can start, pause, exaggerate, and finish them as well as he used to. Maybe he was just a master storyteller. Maybe I just heard each of them too many times. Either way, they became such a part of our love/hate relationship that it feels like they’re my stories now too.

Some of these stories are a bit more memorable than the others, though, and one of these involve the first time he became aware of Emmett Till. He was thirty-five years old when the famous Jet Magazine featuring Emmett Till’s gruesomely disfigured face hit the newsstands. It was at that moment that the civil rights struggle became real to him. That’s what he told me. Sure, he was aware of how volatile things were becoming in the South. And, although Gary, Indiana wasn’t Money, Mississippi, he’d already experienced racism. No fire hoses and lynching’s, but racism still.

But, for a Black man, seeing stuff on an old black and white TV, or hearing your friends talk about it doesn’t compare to the visceral impact of seeing an image like that in person. In his mind, if something like this could happen to a Black kid, it could happen to him too. My old man wasn’t the only one who had that reaction when seeing Emmett Till’s picture.

For many folks—white and Black, who weren’t on the front lines, the fight for equal rights was real, but still somewhat mental battle. The circulation of that picture served as one of the many “Wake up!” flashes that occurred in that decade, an instant that shocked Black people into action.

I thought of this Tuesday while reading a few of the articles published this week marking the one year anniversary of Trayvon Martin’s murder. I’m sure we all remember how his death electrified the Black nation. I seriously can’t remember another time in my 58 years where so many folks were so visibly united against injustice. We marched and cried. We organized and demanded. We rocked hoodies. And, despite what some people seem to think now; this action did manage to achieve the immediate goal. A year ago, George Zimmerman was a free man. Right now, he’s awaiting trial for murder, and I don’t think for one minute this would have happened without the motherfucking ruckus we caused.

But, while Martin’s death had distinctive circumstances, it was a part of a much bigger picture…..gun violence in our communities…that still remains epidemic. Yea, violent crime has been on a decade-long decline pretty much everywhere…even Chicago, but saying 600 murders a year is better than 900 is like saying AIDS is better than Ebola!!

 We’ve collectively tried everything from severe gun control laws to support groups involving ex-gang-bangers to reduce this tide, and nothing seems to really help. Well, we’ve tried almost everything.  I still read 4 newspapers a day at least four or five times a week. (Yeah, it’s easier to read the paper online, but there’s something about reading, holding, and folding that still draws me to it) Often, I read about the murders in our community. Sometimes, people I personally know will be involved in the murder in some way. More times than not, though, I have no connection to the murder victim. They’re nothing more than a name, age, and location. And, while the news will sadden me, I usually forget all about it by the time I get to the sports. I doubt I’m the only one who goes through a similar process.

 But, what if the paper and every other magazine, show, program, periodical, and website reporting on the news started running pictures of the dead along with the stories? Not the prom and Facebook profile pictures that’ll sometimes be used when the story airs on the news, but the pics of how they look right now. Dead!! The crime scene photos!! CSI type pictures! The bloodied, bullet-riddled bodies!! The shotgun-shelled corpses left with half of a head. The seven year olds with holes where their hearts used to be!! The faces with lifeless eyes still open, forever staring until a family member or sympathetic detective closes them. The rotten, unrecognizable blobs lying in woods or underneath houses, found only because it’s getting warm outside and they’re starting to stink. I doubt they’d be as forgettable. I doubt we’d be able to turn the page as easily, to let them escape our minds as we read box scores or play a damn Facebook game. I doubt we’d be as willing to say and continue doing nothing. It worked for my old man. I wonder if it would work for us too.

What If the Carnival Triumph Cruise Ship Was A Slave Ship?

While I’m overjoyed as hell that the passengers on the long-suffering Carnival Triumph finally touched down from the Gulf of Mexico, off of a ship that had them drifting out at sea without some of the most basic shit that would have enabled them to enjoy their trip, I couldn’t help but look a lil deeper into this situation as it revealed to me so much about ourselves as a culture. Hum?
 

Hell, nobody should have to go through hell like that especially when they’re on a nice lil adulterous vacation, but when you look at life on the wider scope, was this inconvenience all that motherfuckin bad.

Now granted, I can really understand how terrifying it must have been to the children, and I’m not speaking about them or the elderly as I share my carefully constructed words.

But while uncertainty can surly play tricks on your mind, could it be that the reality show that we witnessed, or rather had shoved down our damn throats, was just another attention tactic of CNN and other media to drive their ratings up for profit purposes? Hum, again?

Listen, this wasn’t the motherfuckin “Poseidon Adventure” or the sinking of the “Titanic”!!

Come on now folks, I’m sure there were many, many other relevant stories that could have been covered as big as this fuckin planet is. This is why I watch the news outlets and programs through a purified lens, because what may be important to me may not be of any relevance to you.

That being said, have we as a people become so spoiled that when some unexpected shit happens, we become so bent out of shape when we don’t have certain amenities that have made us so soft and actually lazy?

This was the case!

Not to be cruel but I couldn’t help but think about what it might have been like to be on a Slave Ship coming all the way over from West Africa chained up to other sick and ailing folk laying in shit and piss for weeks, and having more shit tossed at them in the dark as food!

Yet the mere fuckin smell of piss was unbearable for those few days for the Carnival Triumph passengers! Now I’m not saying that the Carnival Triumph passengers should’ve been made to experience any discomfort because of what those stolen Africans went through when they were first placed in captivity.

But tough the fuck up people….because we will be placed in many uncomfortable situations in this life that won’t be pleasant!

As advanced as we have become with our gadgets and all that shit, and our knowledge of how to live more efficiently because of it, we have abandoned our ability to remain strong mentally and physically, and utilizing those facets of our life have all but evaporated. We as human beings were created in a very special way, and we must always address and maintain the mental, physical, and spiritual aspects of our existence. To live out of balance can happen for a time but to continue to be out of balance guarantees a certain doom as we have become our own worst enemy. Angry Man out!!

 

Django, Lincoln, and the Abolitionists?

Nation of Islam leader, Minister Louis Farrakhan said he thinks “Django Unchained” true purpose is prepping, and or inciting whites for a race-war. I respect the Minister, but that ain’t the main reason why Hollywood released "Django". Hollywood is in the business to make lots of money by pushing certain images, illusions, and propaganda. So why was Quentin Tarantino picked to make Hollywood’s most significant movie on slavery since at-least 'Amistad' if not 'Roots'? Why not Spike Lee, John Singleton (what ever happened to him), the Hughes Bros, or Bill Duke? Tarantino was picked because Hollywood knew he would turn slavery into a real Tarantino film; very real graphic violence, Tarantino style humor, in combination with using the word NIGGER a gazillion times! They knew Tarantino would get his buddy Samuel Jackson on board, which would then help draw other Black actors to ensure that Black folks would be standing in line, meaning validation for this movie. Then he needed a well-known white actor (Leonardo DiCaprio) for cross-over appeal (it turned out that the white German Dude, Chris Waltz) is 'Django's" real star, cause he’s the only one that got an Oscar nomination. But beyond economics, demographic, and logistic issues, I’m gonna base this piece on what I saw, reports, and reviews. I've read 'Django' represented a revenge fantasy for Black folks and even had a so-called liberating effect for some white people, and that’s really an improper response, that a serious movie about slavery should feel liberating for white folks. They should feel appalled, ashamed, remorseful, obligated, etc. How many Nazi’s who've seen 'Shindlers List' said that it made them feel liberated? As for us Black folks feeling therapeutic by watching this on-screen revenge fantasy of seeing a Black dude gettin some pay-back for slavery (except he didn’t do it for the fight against slavery, but to get his wife back), bullshit! At this point, the power elites are ok with Black folks feelin liberating by watching an historical film set 155 years ago as a money makin distraction from the on-going struggle against white-supremacy, systemic racism, US-NATO military imperialism, Wall St Banksterism, and the Global Neo-Liberal Disaster Capitalism we're faced with every day! 'Django' can't be separated from the fact that it was timed to come out with Spielberg's 'Lincoln' and PBS' 'The 'Abolitionists'. This movie was timed for the 150th anniversary of the so-called 'Emancipation Proclamation' and perpetuates the myth that Lincoln was our great emancipator, and saw us Black folk as equals, and the Civil War as a moral fight against slavery! More bullshit! But just as crazy, are Spielberg and his buddies pickin a white-washed script for 'Lincoln' that scrubbed my hero Fredrick Douglass, as well as all other Black abolitionist, and freedom fighters of that era from his so-called historical epic! This gives the false impression that Black folks just sat around waiting for some white Jesus savior type politicians like Lincoln and Thaddeus Stevens to give our ancestors freedom like some kind of Goddamn Christmas gift. White socialist web-sites praise 'Lincoln' and then disses Michelle Alexander's book 'The New Jim Crow' as Black bourgeois 'liberalism'. PBS so-called 'historical' documentary 'The Abolitionists' reinforces this fucked up myth. Though it does speak about Fredrick Douglass and his impact on the movement, he is too big and well known to completely ignore! Its main focus is on white abolitionists: William Lloyd Garrison, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Angelina Grimke, and John Brown. But folks should know that Douglass had several important Black colleagues in the fight against slavery: Harriett Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Martin Delaney, Robert Smalls, etc. And unlike most white abolitionists (except Brown) Tubman, Delaney, and Smalls literally risked their lives freeing slaves! Tubman was THE Face of the 'Under-Ground Rail-Road, and served as a Union Army spy during the Civil War, while Delaney and Smalls were actually Union officers! Unlike John Brown's failed Harpers Ferry raid, Robert Smalls actually succeeded in the hijacking of a Confederate gun-boat and sailed it to Union lines. Wow! Thus, the lame ass message that so-called liberal Hollywood is projecting is clear, that Blacks should give all praise to the so-called white savior, Ol (dis)Honest Abe for our freedom, as they erase Black freedom fighters from history, or give us a historical big money makin spoof as a distraction!

WHY SO MANY KILLINGS IN CHICAGO?

I have five reasons what's causing all of the killings in Chicago…but are they right? Let me know. The first belief, that Chicago is dangerous, ain’t true! Homicide rates in Chicago have been lower recently than most other cities in the United States, and in the motherfuckin world as a matter of fact. Homicides have declined since the 90’s and recently as low as the 1960s. Most of the killings are concentrated in six districts (I call them the murder zone), all of which are plagued by intergenerational poverty, gangs, momma only households, social disorder and economic blight. In 2010, 52 percent of the city's murders were committed in these six police districts. The remaining 19 are really safe! The second belief is that the police should be solely responsible for lowering the city's murder rate; this is some false shit! Despite all of the technological shit in law enforcement, CPD alone can do little to prevent homicides. Policing is really reactive to me. The police can no more prevent murders than firefighters can prevent fires or paramedics can prevent heart attacks. Yet, Mayor Rham and the top cop are criticized every time another young life is senselessly and needlessly lost to homicide. The third belief is that gangs increase Chicago's murder rate; now this shit is mostly true. Gang-related killings make up 60 percent of the murders and often involve shootings to gain control of a corner, or area, or to enhance a gang's reputation or power. Silly ass gang members also kill for reasons that have nothing to do with the gang's interests (personal insults, relationship conflicts, etc.). Last year’s warm winter and spring, and one of the hottest summers increased the number of street interactions. Loosely connected gang loyalties and a lack of mature gang leaders to keep the younger, more violent fools in check also escalate violence. In addition, gangs in Chicago have been forced out of project high-rises and into unfamiliar neighborhoods where they are confronted by rival gangs, or by rival factions within their own gang. Sad shit! The fourth belief is that murders are predictable, which is some false shit again! "Heat of the moment" killings generally take place suddenly and in a house or an apartment — where they’re virtually fuckin impossible to prevent, but those are easier to solve. They are between spouses, partners, family members, or neighbors, and the killer usually leaves behind a whole lot of CSI shit for evidence! In contrast, instrumental (cold-blooded) killings are committed to accomplish a motherfuckin goal. They are easier to prevent; the police can collect information when the murder is being planned or when conflicts are brewing. Unfortunately, this information rarely comes to police attention until the murder has been committed. Hum? (Snitches are needed) Even a fluke accident can end in death, turning a shooting into a homicide. Check this shit out I learned from CSI: the trajectory and caliber of the bullet, where it enters the body and how it tracks after it’s in the body, the size and body weight of the victim and the proximity of the shooting to the nearest trauma center are all in the homicide equation. Yea it is! In some years, these factors favor the survival of the victims; in others, they do not, and homicide rates go down or up. The fifth belief is that handguns add greatly to the high homicide rate in Chicago, this shit is really true. Pistols are used in 80 percent of Chi’s murders. That means fewer guns might, but not necessarily, translate into fewer homicides. Hum? Chicago's homicide rates went through the roof when the handgun ordinance was enforced. Most people own guns for sport or self-protection, not to commit a felony. The impact of gun buyback programs on homicides is trivial; usually law-abiding and good citizens turn in their guns for cash, because they need the money! So, what the hell are we to do? The city of Chicago, and I mean everybody, Black, white, Hispanic, Jew, etc. must come to understand that violence is both a public health and criminal justice problem. I don’t care where the hell you live in Chicago; multipronged strategies are needed to tackle the complex understanding of homicidal behavior, which is an expression of a highly disturbed nigga living in a highly distressed community. (The hood) I think most causes of violence can be addressed most effectively through the social, political and economic revitalization of these distressed neighborhoods. Remember the original CAPS (Chicago Alternative Policing) model, the police should leverage the city to tear down or board up abandoned homes and buildings — especially those that gangs use for secret shit — and remove graffiti, garbage and abandoned cars from the streets. Reductions in physical disorder will increase community solidarity and lower the rates of crime and violence in the “hood”. Yea it will!! The CPD should use the best pieces of the original CAPS model, like, uh, long-term (permanent) assignment of police officers to the same beats, especially in the murder zone. Drug sweeps every damn day, saturation patrols and gang audits are somewhat useful, but the effects are only temporary! Hot spots eventually cool off and motherfuckers just go on other street corners after the police leave. Recent police hiring will only maintain the current level of staffing. Folks in Chicago will support budgetary restructuring, even the imposition of a safety tax, if the money is used to hire the additional police officers necessary to make the hood truly safer. Mike Bloomberg’s New York Miracle — big ass reductions in all categories of serious crime— was made possible by the city's hiring of 8,000 new police officers. Hum? The second element is the renewal of regular beat meetings, especially where the risk for homicide is greatest. Beat meetings highlight police-citizen partnerships in the co-production of hood safety. Through the establishment of closer and more trusting relationships with police officers, (cringing), more residents could be enlisted to help solve gang-related killings, which have a very low clearance rate. In conjunction with beat meetings, the most violent districts must establish an anti-homicide task force, consisting of police officers; lyin preachers, city, and school officials; community organizers; and researchers. The task forces should meet weekly with Rham and the top cop to discuss the latest data on shootings and the adoption of district-specific measures to enhance safety. The city should also re-vamp the Cease-fire Program, a pretty good approach that hires former gang members as violence interrupters who get information about impending gang-related homicides to avoid retaliatory gang warfare. Whew! Violence interrupters also can teach young men better conflict-resolution skills. Cease-fire and other community organizations and institutions must focus on changing the culture of violence that flows through the lives of young Black men, the most likely victims and perpetrators of homicide in the city. The thugs who use guns never own them legally and never buy them mothefuckers in Chicago, which has no gun shops. The ATF claims that Chicago's gangs get their guns from outside of Illinois. Duh? Furthermore, most chronic offenders are prohibited from gun ownership because they have a felony or are on probation or parole supervision. To ensure that guns do not come into the possession of these niggas, the CPD should reestablish its specialized gun unit in each of the distressed districts in the murder zone, working with beat officers and ATF agents in mutual styles of policing. The longer-term assignment of specialty officers to districts would minimize the likelihood of the abuses that were attributed to the “jump-out boys.” In addition, using the RICO statute, holding gang leaders accountable for every gang-related murder committed by their members, could compel gang leaders to control the silly ass uneducated shooters among their ranks. The CPD has got to shut down the out-in-the open drug markets, ending the violence that comes from conflicts over territory. In New York, outdoor drug sales were driven indoors, where conflicts between rival drug dealers were minimized if not prevented altogether. A positive byproduct of closing down the open-air drug markets is the increased inconvenience of buyin the shit! The ramps of the Eisenhower Expressway would no longer provide easy in and out for suburbanites buyin heroin, cocaine and Kush from street gang members. Homicides end young Black lives senselessly, damaging families and communities for generations to come. The complexity of this problem calls for diverse solutions in which police, residents and community leaders create orderly environments where shooting will never be a viable solution to a problem. The city needs more officers engaging in more “gangs-drugs-guns” policing in the districts where the risk of becoming another horrific homicide statistic is greatest. The benefits of reducing homicides will transfer to all residents in ensuring that Chicago remains a world-class city.

BEYONCE` AND THE MORNING AFTER

I’m gonna just go on and get this shit outta the way…Beyoncé killed the half-time show. Oh yeah, and she can sing. I’m not scared of any of you motherfuckers. Was it the best half-time show of all time? No. But was it dope? Yes. But we’ll get to her relationship to Jesus and the occult later. Hope I remember. Anyway, it’s the Monday after the Super Bowl which for me ended about an hour ago due to the mysterious power outage. Yes, Beyoncé had something to do with that. I know she did! But again, we’ll get to that later. Congratulations to the Baltimore Ravens. While I definitely was pulling for the 49ers, I’m happy for Baltimore and their fans. I do have to question some of the play-calling on the part of loser Harbaugh on the last drive for San Fran, but I don’t get paid millions. Naw, I’m just a squirrel trying to get a nut to move your butt. On to the next one…and all my single ladies!! I was ready for the Internet to either implode or shut down altogether during Beyonce’s performance, but somehow that didn’t happen. And...Oh, motherfucking Alicia Keys went and remixed the national anthem…in front of all them white folks. Not only does she spend 80 percent of every song yelling at us, now she’s lighting women on fire, which I’m fairly sure, is like, not cool, bro. But if there’s one motherfuckin song that’s more sacred to white people than “Dixie” it’s the National Anthem. That’s why so many white folks tend to hate it when Black folks sing it…remembering Marvin Gaye and the rest of the coloreds. We tend to flavor it up. Well she flavored it down with a jazzy version but then hit up a couple extra words and lines in the end. Damn, Alicia. First you decide to work with BlackBerry, now you fucking with white people. Where is the world headed? It’s been an odd week for you. Back to the lecture at hand…while I like Beyonce, I’m not nearly on the level of her fans out there. I don’t think the Super Bowl was a Beyonce concert with a football game surrounding it. But men listen, when she hit the crowd with the “raise your hands towards me and let me feed off your energy…” weee!! I ain’t saying she’s drinking the Kool-Aid, but she’s definitely on the verge of Crystal Light. Oh, and she made Kelly and Michelle her backup singers for a minute or two. I like it. I like it a lot. Then the power goes out. I’m a betting man, and I know that God probably put his chips on Baltimore to cover the spread in Vegas. Why else would he cut the lights after Jacoby Jones records the longest kick-off return in Super Bowl History (well until it was noted that it was only 108 yards and tied with others). He had to make sure that Baltimore was up enough to ultimately win. Of course, it’s possible that Beyonce’s powers of the unreal cut the lights to somehow give San Fran an edge (it didn’t, they’re a tremendous comeback team and should have won in my opinion), but if the Ravens don’t win, then we don’t get Ray Lewis and his Psalms 91 shirt, and then we don’t get him telling us about God more times than the entire winner’s circle at the NAACP Image Awards on Friday night who ceremoniously disrespected Jamie Foxx as he sang the gospel while accepting his award, which I’m pretty sure was for “Most Versatile Performer” or some such fuckery. I ain’t saying that the Image Awards ain’t shit, but that’s awful close to a BET Award show category. And we know about that coonery! Oh, and Red Tails winning movie of the year or whatever it won when 1) it sucked more than, well, anything, and 2) it was in the same category as Django Unchained, and Beasts of the Southern Wild, and 3) nobody even remembered when it came out! Even George “I love Black women” Lucas said he wasn’t expecting to be up there. Luckily nobody who actually knows shit about movies gives that win any credence. I’m rambling. Yes I am. Back to Ray Ray. I know he’s religious and really got religion after conspiring to (helping) kill two dudes, so it’s nothing new. But between him, Beyonce, and God shutting off the lights at the Super Dome, well, there was a lot of Jesus going on around the Super Bowl. I would like to ask Beyonce to give some of her followers the ability to worship Jesus too though. So yes, I just used almost 755 words to get back to this: The Image Awards? Beyoncé? Ray Lewis? It’s the morning after…

OUR MIS-EDUCATION OF SEX IN OUR COMMUNITY

We all should know that sex plays a very important part in our lives, but we also have to understand that its real function is to procreate. However, it’s the mis-education of sex among Black youth in our community that is creating serious problems: child abuse. It’s a crying shame to have to watch news reports about Black children that have been strangled, burned, starved, trashed, abandoned, beaten, poisoned, and left in cars to suffocate, usually by young parents or family members. I remember a young Black mother leaving her two children in the car to suffocate while she was getting a new hair weave. Same year, a Black man threw acid in the face of his sleeping three-month-old son. Also, the following year, police were summoned to a house where family members told them that a pet “pit bulldog” had attacked their newborn baby, only 48 hours old, who was left unattended in a room with the vicious hungry animal. The police found the bloody headless body of the baby on the floor of the room, and had to kill the dog to reclaim the baby’s head, which the dog was chewing on! And in Philly, a Black woman called police after becoming suspicious of a peculiar odor coming from the apartment next door. When the police arrived, they found a baby barely alive lying in a roasting pan in a hot oven. When police asked the mother,” Why would she do such a horrible thing to her own child?” Her reply was “The devil made me do it!” And the list goes on and on. Real-life horror stories of which there seems to be no immediate remedy as to how to put an end to these human atrocities. The Department of Welfare and Children’s Services are not helping either. In fact, in most of the child abuse cases handled by these agencies, the abusive parent receives inadequate counseling and/or rehabilitation; saving tax payers money, and the real victim (child) is quickly returned to the same abusive parent, who in most cases continues to abuse and/or kills the child. We cannot expect social service agencies or any institution that doesn’t have our best interest at heart to resolve our problems. We Black folks have to do it. Unfortunately, there are too many temptations out there that lure our Black youth into the world of sex and perversion. The number one culprit is the television, watched by millions of Black youth, which employs the use of ads to promote the very early interest in sex. It’s the most powerful tool the propagandist has to influence their thinking and behavior. Sponsors pay millions of dollars, the networks get richer and filthier and the government rakes in more money. Sex is a multi-billion dollar industry, and the big time hustlers: Uncle Sam and the networks don’t give a damn who’s child they string out as long as they’re making money. Young Black men and women get caught up in the “1-800-LOVE LINE” which promotes prostitution, and young girls emulate and idolize some whorish female personalities, unprepared for the consequences that lay ahead. Planned Parenthood, and birth control clinics signal to our youth that sex outside of marriage is okay as long as they don’t get caught, ( pregnancy, AIDS.) When young women find themselves “In trouble,” they believe that the easiest route is to abort the child. After all, it’s just a fetus not yet fully developed. These clinics remove personal accountability and responsibility from the clients and replace them with coils, jells and methods of sterilization. They offer nothing to our youth, and in particular, the unborn child. In some areas of the U.S., public schools systems are teaching our young Black boys (9 and 10 year olds), the proper use of condoms. Their argument is that “children are becoming more sexually conscious and active at an earlier age, and therefore, to protect them from the spread of highly infectious diseases, like AIDS; it is better to be safe than sorry.” In the meantime, police in Chicago arrest two 10-year- old boys for gang raping a 7-year- old girl while their friends casually watched and cheered. No one should be talking to your children about sex but you, the parent, or another concerned responsible family member. Parents played an active role in their child’s birth, and should take an equally active part in their moral training and development. Sex education is clearly not the responsibility of the government. Teaching our children to abstain from sex before marriage is by far the best solution in avoiding unwanted pregnancies, social diseases and character assassination. However, teaching our children about sex should not begin when they are already engaged in it. The process of educating them should start early and be gradual. Families that show love, genuine concern, and are sensitive to their children, are better able to discuss concerns and feelings they may have and don’t understand. As our children continue to grow and develop, they’re undergoing very confusing periods in their lives. False accusations and unfounded suspicions only block the lines of effective communication further. If our children are uncomfortable or reluctant to talk to us about sex, they may look for answers elsewhere. Knowing who your children are hanging out with is equally as important in educating them about sex. If we know where our children are going to bed and whom they’re with, it won’t be too difficult to figure out what they’re doing. In other words, get familiar with your child’s friends and associates. If their “homies” are the type that attract trouble, then it may be better to cut the contact altogether. Their peers will probably ridicule them, but they will survive. When people don’t have good sense of values, their direction is usually uncertain as well. REAL TALK: “ANGRY BLACK MAN”…. TO YOU YOUNG BLACK GIRLS More than ever, you young impressionable girls must face the inevitability of raising your children alone, especially if you are poor and have no education. Think about this, you will become just another statistic filed away for someone’s research (Black, young, pregnant, unwed and on welfare) if you don’t use proper values! Soap operas, videos, reality shows, BET, and made for television films only glamorize the real world because they’re centered on white values rather than Black values. If you young Black girls want a shot at achieving some of your goals in life, you must begin now by preparing to make certain sacrifices. Learning self-restraint and moral ethics can be the key to your future and the future of your children too. Chances are that if you are in a “Cycle” of having babies every year or so, opportunities become almost impossible to achieve. Lets face it, there will be no responsible brother waiting for you in the wings now or anytime, if you persist in repeating past mistakes. What you will get, however, will be somebody nobody wants or needs…leftovers. Parenting is a tremendous responsibility, which requires maturity, patience and love. Two of those won’t be there if you see your child as burdens or free tickets to getting a man. Self –respect, self-love and looking out for your own future is far more important. There is a lot of good and bad in our communities, and having the right set of values, and planning realistic strategies will better prepare you for some of the good life in the near future. Give your life a chance to enjoy what is good out there. Put sex on the backburner until you marry. You’ll never regret it, I’m Phillip Norton and I’m out!!!!!

DO YOU HAVE TO LOOSE YOUR MIND TO RE-CLAIM YOUR SANITY?

Late last night I was caught by surprise when the television began to play old songs from the fifties and sixties that I grew up listening to. It was one of those Time/Life paid commercials that lasts for about thirty minutes, but lure you into buying a set of Compact Discs that seems to be a good deal, and it actually is. Now anyone who truly knows me, knows that I don’t give my conscious and subconscious mind to the television at all ,and when I do, I filter everything that I observe on it, and keep my viewings limited to CNN/MSNBC/FOX News because I will never submit myself to being “dumbed down.” And I only watch FOX because I like to keep up with the enemy within! But because this was music that I could trust, it was already embedded in the deepest recesses of my mind from my childhood, I was happy to take a trip down memory lane as they played lil pieces of the many songs that they had to offer. The songs came at me fast and began to stir up the long forgotten but ever present memories that had settled behind the present events of my life, like that huge spoon that I can remember my Mother used to give us Father Johns and Castor Oil! Ugg, damn, I can taste it now! As the thoughts developed once again for me to enjoy as the music played, I couldn’t help but think of how the world that we currently live in is so much different from those golden times that brought us those warm feelings as we lived them. I came to the conclusion right then and there that there will never be another time like that for the rest of my life unless something very drastic changes. While looking back on my younger years (I ain’t that old yet, but I have enough years under my belt to be able to speak about them and the precious lessons learned in hindsight!) and believe me when I tell you, excitement was always my constant companion and it had a way of finding me even when I tried to hide from it. But those days I had good clean fun. Sure, I had a few fistfights, but you shook hands and nursed your bloody nose and busted lip and found a way to become friends after your differences were settled. There were no shootouts or deaths, and being arrested was out of the question. It was a different time than it is now, this is why for me to arrive home to a quiet apartment, and the only sound that I can hear is the gentle humming of my old desk-top is more exciting than those crazy parties that I used to throw and more satisfying than the even more outlandish things that I did at them! But such is maturity and I do thank God that I made it to 57 ¾ years at the time of this writing (Well almost!) and it makes me think why most people ( including me) aren’t operating and functioning properly in the world the way it is today. This music commercial had me feeling so, so good, but at the same time wishing that that world was still around. I wondered, just as I’m reminiscing on the wholesome golden times of my childhood by these songs that were passionate, emotional and family friendly clean, what will the present generation look back on as they hit middle age and beyond, and when they do look back, will they realize that they have been literally robbed by the mindset that they were coerced to adopt? Will they realize that for most of their formative years and beyond, that they have lost their minds? Some of us who should know better (including me), have continued on with our destructive indulgences long beyond the point of being able to cry ignorance because we just downright love and have committed to living such a filthy life and refusing to adopt the new mindset that will have us ascend to that next level. In order to gain anything in this life, you have to be willing to part with something. The reason why many of us never make it to that next desired level in our lives is because we want to bring everything in our current reality with us to our new one. That is so foolish but it is something that I constantly execute and never realize why I will reach my new level of existence or damage that place by tainting it with the things that should have been left in the past. Whew! But we can be stubborn folks indeed, so for those who of you who are a bit more humble in their demeanor and are willing to embrace all that they’ve hoped for, know that you must lose your mind in order to gain your sanity. But wait. Does that even make sense? Sure it does! In this so called modern world, we have lost our unique identities, we do not feel that we’re good enough to be our original selves so we have exchanged and forfeited our original selves for the cookie cutter lives that we strive to live. Through the constant bombardment on our good senses via the internet, print, and television, attacks on our minds have softened us up to accept anything that is given to us in our altered mental state. We go through life not looking dead on and focused on our particular path, but we’re moving forward, but looking sideways to see what others are doing and setting ourselves up for a sure disaster because we are not 100% focused on our real affairs. Damn, did I say that? Life, to many of us (including me) is like drinking that cup of Seven Up that was left out a lil bit too long with melted ice ensuring that twangy taste is watered down and the sparkle gone! It may appear to be the drink that we craved, but upon a closer inspection it is nothing like what we’ve come to expect. We copy each other in style, fashion, likes and dislikes and wonder why we feel like we’re going insane from a life that does nothing for us. Our year old car is now not good enough because our next door neighbor has a newer one that is more expensive. We stopped talking to our good friends because they have moved on to live in a community with a higher tax bracket. We lust after our friends spouse and neglect the one we have at home, lying to ourselves in saying that we simply “lost it.” Damn! We are the reasons why we make our lives so shallow and paper thin! It’s like making love and not feeling a damn thing, or taking a bite of your favorite food and having it taste like chalk. Sure, it’s enough to make a motherfucker crazy because after all of the hype, to possess the mind of this imposter in your head will give you absolutely no choice but to give that person a false happiness that has no flavor. We have more technology, more gadgets than we could have imagined! Remember way back when we all wanted a watch that worked like Dick Tracey’s or a communicator like Captain Kirk’s on Star Trek. We have so much, yet we’re losing our minds reluctantly in record numbers because it is nature’s attempt to bring us back into a divine balance and true sanity! If we continue to consume these genetically engineered foods and flood our internal organs with medications to boost our abilities to do for our bodies artificially what should be done for itself, we will feel no joy in our daily lives because of this. After a hard day’s work, and not being able to easily sleep, or after an ample and stimulating view of beautiful titties, you get no erection? What gives? We have pushed our minds, bodies and souls as far as they can go, and in order for us to continue to have a shot at a normal and totally fulfilling life, we have got to lose our collective minds. Doesn’t this make complete sense? We’re seeing the regular mass shootings of innocent lives from those who are socially isolated and disconnected from that universal sense of being included which is part of our divine D.N.A. Children and young teenagers walk the earth with an anger that was once reserved for old folks who were disgruntled with a life filled with poor choices and realize that more exists ahead. Why are our youth, with so much time in front of them seeming to be burdened with the stresses and dysfunctions of a lifetime? It wasn’t like that just a short time ago when I was growing up, so where did this come from and why don’t more people notice it? Teachers who were just as influential as, and sometimes closer to their students than the parents, are now crossing the line and actually having sex with the youngsters whose safety and well-being they have been entrusted with. Police are more corrupt than ever, and have taken center stage over the good ones who are hard to be found when it is time to break that blue wall of silence. Sex scandal after sex scandal peppers the psyche of humankind and is appearing in every area of endeavor populated by humankind including the church, so what gives? Our work ethic has diminished, and the biggest concern for an ever growing majority of workers is to do less and pass the time until it’s time to clock out. The pride of doing a great job has literally disappeared and the joy we used to possess in showing up to our jobs to do our absolute best has all but become a distant memory. We go to work with the mentality of one who is going to war…..Kill or be killed. Morale doesn’t exist anymore and it’s just a matter of time before the next school shooting that will dominate our news channels and social media networks once again. We have got to lose this type of mindset in order to make room for sanity to return! We have been co-opted and we don’t even realize it. We have had our very lives “baited and switched” right from under us and we think that it will be alright and all will go well. No one seems to want to give of themselves anymore and most prowl this world as though they’re in a market where things can be bargained down. Everyone seems to want “the hook up” or some inside deal that no one else has access to. But with the mentality of always seeking to get over, we will never get that deal that we feel is so elusive to us. If we would only lose this current carnal way of thinking, we could then regain our sanity. So as you can see, losing your mind can be a great thing when it is exchanged for the intended sanity that we seem to lack now. To keep thinking the way that we do will only manifest the later stages of a degradation that has already surpassed anything that was written in scripture and will incur a harsher wrath more so than anything that has ever been witnessed. Lose your present mind to gain your sanity. I think I’ve said enough!!

EUGENICS????

Eugenics……"the idea that society can be improved by allowing people to become parents only if they are likely to produce healthy and intelligent children." I’ve danced to the Temptations on a semi-nude beach in Italy. I’ve successfully dodged gunfire while hobbled with a badly sprained ankle. I’ve gotten lost in someone’s bed before. (I was drunk and, well, it was a big-ass bed.) I read the 560 page Hannibal in less than 24 hours, and the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) in no less than 4 days. I even managed to not fuck an AKA. Oops! Basically, I’ve had a pretty fulfilling life so far. Well, at least that’s what I thought until I read about this dude named Asim Taylor. He is a father of four, who owes $97,000 in back child support, and has been ordered to stop screwin. Wow!! I’ll get to the actual meaning of a judge making a ruling on somebody’s sexual activity in a minute. Now, though, I need to take a moment to recognize and acknowledge the fact that nothing I’ve done in my life compares to being able to strip but naked, walk to the full-length mirror behind your bathroom door, stare at your dick, and know that whatever you’re packing is potent enough to make a fucking judge craft a legal precedent because of it. There’s nothing I or anyone else can ever do to top that. No experience measures up, no activity or achievement compares to……….”my dick has a court (cause) docket number.” Penis envy aside, the judge’s decision is something I can reasonably assume we’ve all wished we could do at one time. If you’re one of those Nigga’s who say they’ve never been in Target, or on the train, or on Facebook, or in Detroit, or at a family reunion, and looked at a man or a woman and thought to themselves “Some motherfuckers just shouldn’t be allowed to procreate”!! I don’t believe your ass, but fine. For the rest of us, though, this fantasy takes up a surprising—and disturbing—amount of brain space. I pray that certain people don’t have kids. And, for some of those who do already have kids—and have proven to be as useless as parents as tits on an ant—I pray they don’t have any more. But, my wishes never come true. In fact, the amount of children a person has nowadays seems to be correlated to the amount of times someone looked at them and thought their name should just be “Fuckmeplease Jones.” So, why does the judges’ decision wub me the wong way? Let’s forget about the Pandora’s Box it opens. (For instance, if he knocks a woman up, can she be charged as an accessory to a crime?) Let’s even forget about whether it’s constitutionally relevant or even fucking legal. As much as I’ve wished I could be king for a day and tie the tubes of every hood-rat ahead of me in line at Kroger’s, proudly bringing 18 items to the 10 items or less aisle, the thought of actually possessing the power to do that—just doesn’t seem right. Perhaps it doesn’t seem right because, on a fundamental level, I know that it is. On every practical, logical, and biological level, it makes perfect sense to do what we can to deter “undesirables” from having children. In fact, considering that we’re the only species that not only allows the weakest and dumbest of us to have the most children, but puts valuable resources into saving weak and dumb children instead of allowing them to die off, it’s senseless not to practice eugenics. But, when what is or isn’t undesirable is left up to something as arbitrary as human determination, who’s to say that your name won’t eventually be on that list? Basically, if you start eugenics, where does it stop?

Black Naming Rights

Recently in a conversation with friends, someone mentioned Quvenzhané Wallis, the star of “Beasts of the Southern Wild” and youngest actor ever to be nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress. Before I could remark about having never heard of the film, or show praise for her high accolades at such a young age, I immediately focused on her name. “Wait, is her name really Quvenzhané?” What the fuck? I googled her to see if this wasn’t some kinda rumor. My follow up response to my search was, “Why the fuck is her mama’s name Qulyndreia?” This certainly wasn’t the first damn time I’ve seen an “ethnically creative” name that caused me to form a serious side eye. I mean, I’m a serious NFL fan – seeing names like D’Brickashaw, Jacquizz, Knowshon, De’Anthony and LaQuinton are common. I have also come to regularly expect texts from my friend Platitarius containing a list of students he works with named LaDravious, Dan’kevien, Markevius, Jonquerrius, Marionique, Jamorrious, and LaPhil. My reaction is always the same: “What is with the flagrant use of apostrophes, La- prefixes, and -ious/eous suffixes?” My friend Platitarius and I have even gone so far as to try to conjugate and combine the most common names into as many remixes as possible just for the hell of it. And then, of course, there are the infamous (and possibly nonexistent) Orangejello, Lemonjello, and Le-a. I think some of these “unique” and “uncommon” names are just too over the top and I don’t like em. But it wasn’t until being introduced to Quvenzhané that I considered my reaction was judgmental. I was so distracted by a name that I failed to acknowledge and credit the person to whom the name belonged. I felt bad about it. Does this make me a namist? Lol!! We all have our prejudices and make assumptions based on inconsequential bullshit knowledge. We might even justify our opinions based on our experiences, especially if the opinions are ruder! We also have our preferences, our likes and dislikes. We’re perfectly entitled to them and don’t have to explain them to anyone. But sometimes the line between preference and prejudice is so thin and we can cross it before we know it. This is where I’m a bit conflicted about my feelings about names – do I harbor some deep rooted prejudice against “Black” names? On the one hand, I just think some names are ugly and silly as hell! A person named DaRealyst? Really!! Kids with names that belong one a bottle… Tequila and Hennessey… and not on a playground? Why? It’s like the parents were having a damn stroke when thinking of a name. Why do Black folks have to stand out with names that make no sense? On the other hand, who the hell cares what I think? Who am I to say someone’s name is acceptable or not? There isn’t some set standard or criterion to measure an appropriate name, other than it just sounds/looks weird to some. But yet I’m guilty of asserting an arbitrary bias on others. People have the right to be as creative as they please, right? Do names have to have a deep meaning or translation to be legitimate? Sure, there are studies to suggest “Black sounding names” are more likely to be passed over in the job market. There’s even a study that correlates unpopular/uncommon names with criminal activity. But so what? Should parents be restricted to certain types of names because of possible discrimination (discrimination that may come regardless of name)? Should negative perceptions guide one’s decision on what to name their child? How important is the perceptibility of names? Do our names define who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going? Are names more than an ID? Perhaps this is just a Black burden. White people don’t have to answer these questions or have to defend their names. They can have seemingly unorthodox names without suffering consequences more severe than others. But Black folks know different. Our differently composed names can warrant much harsher scrutiny – even from our own – that goes beyond aesthetics. Assumptions of class, education, and potential for success are often made. I don’t think I’m wrong to find Quvenzhané, LaDravious and any name with a stupid ass apostrophe to be unappealing, just as I don’t think it’s wrong to find people’s art, fashion sense, or faces unappealing. I don’t like what I don’t like. But I do worry that my dislike of these names are just a symptom of a larger problem. I worry that my preference for more subtle names is really a prejudice, and I’m subconsciously reducing people’s worth based on their name. I don’t mull over what kind of person I think they are or where they come from (her name is Twerkeisha so she must be a low budget stripper or have parents only 13yrs older than her), but I’m worried I might actually be doing something worse – dismissing them all together without bothering to scratch the surface. And being that judgmental makes me uncomfortable. I’m out!