This is to the people who write "anti-Kwanzaa" screeds this time of year.
1. Yes, it's made up. Karenga has said that from day one.
2. Other "made up" celebrations include Mardi Gras, Mother's Day, Valentines Day, and St. Patrick's Day.
Karenga never said it was an African celebration. He said he took parts of different African cultures and created a "harvest festival" like celebration.
OH, do you really want to go here?
1. The birth of Christ, Our Savior, did not likely happen on the 25th of December. It was "created" to overtake the pagen rituals that occured during the time.
2. How many Christians celebrate Christmas singing about Santa Claus and Rudoloph?
1. I've been to one Kwanzaa celebration. I attended in Philly and Karenga was a speaker. At this point, I'll mention that there were a fair number of whites in attendence, and it wasn't just news reporters.
2. Many people come from different parts of the country to celebrate Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Did you know that there are actually 2 separate Mardi Gras parades happening at the same time? One done by whites, the other by Blacks? Did you know that until 2004, I think, they never even "greeted" each other?
1. Most American whites have never been to Ireland but does that stop them from celebrating St. Patrick's Day?
2. Most Americans, period, have never left the country.
No, it doesn't. Some "Black churches" even celebrate both.
Take the Kwanzaa hating and step. Ya'll are just spouting nonsense.
For the record: I don't celebrate it. I'm just sick of the silliness the haters go through on trying to shut it down.
At work I was listening to a Prince 3 CD set, "The Hits and the B Sides".
All of a sudden, the song hit and I forgot how much I liked this one line in Pope:
"You can be the president,
I'd rather be the pope.
You can be the side effect.
I'd rather be the dope!"
<ring>
<ring>
<ring>
'lo?
<click>
The "real meaning of Christmas" appears to be a man jumping line at Wal Mart and getting the beat down by off duty cops.
The "real meaning of Christmas" appears to be people racing into a store at 6 AM on "Black Friday", falling down, and having other people run over them. ( Did you see the video of the Black woman who feel down, then instead of getting up, grabbed her wig that fell off in front of her, and put it back on her head, and straightened it, before attempting to get up? )
The "real meaning of Christmas" appears to be people fighting for items, getting in line at 4 AM, and getting caught up in consumerism.
What is it about a culture that does that?
Two songs come to mind: "The Real Meaning of Christmas" by the Winans, and "Remember Why" by Alexander ONeil.
I made some music purchases recently that I want to share with you.
I brought George Clinton's, How Late Do U Have 2 B B4 U R Absent?. Please, people do not waste your money. It stinks and I don't mean funky! It does absolutely NOTHING for the funk juices. I rate it a 1 out of 10. The 1 is just because it's George Clinton.
On the other hand, Kirk Franklin's Hero, is not only good for your soul, but some of it will get the funk juices MOVIN! Right now, "Looking for You" is getting some play on secular radio, and with good reason. The groove is based on a secular song of years gone by, "Haven't You Heard" by Patrice Rushen. And there is a song on the CD with Stevie Wonder that is nice. In fact, it should have also been on Stevie's CD. I give it a 8 out of 10. Speaking of Stevie...
Steve Wonder's new CD, A Time to Love was a long time in the making. And, frankly, for it to have taken so long, it should have been much better. It is a good sound with solid music. It just doesn't move me too much. I give it a 6 out of 10.
Finally, there's the new CD by Earth, Wind, & Fire. The CD is named Illumination. This is a good CD.
It's a CD with multiple producers and writers: Will. I. Am., Raphael Saadiq, Terry Lewis and Jimmy Jam, Floetry, and Brian McKnight.
I must say that Jam and Lewis do the best job of keeping the classic EW&F sound but keeping it fresh as well. Their production, "Pure Gold" will not disappoint old school EW&F fans. It's a winner. It's too bad it's only getting play on "old school" stations.
Next in line is the final "new" cut that is written and produced by Brian McKnight, "To You." McKnight keeps the EW&F feel and produces a winner for the group.
Raphael Saadiq gets a hand at doing some writing and production work for EW&F. I must say that he holds his own and gains some respect from me. "Show Me the Way" is a good EW&F song, but the only draw back is Saadiq gets some vocal work on the cut. I'm not a fan of the man's voice, so I just want to hear Phillip and Maurice work their chops. But, the song is good. Saadiq did 2 other songs as well. Overall, he does a good job.
Last, but not least, the BEST cut on the CD, one that had me dancing in my seat at work, and had my CD player on single loop, is "The One". Folks, that song is GOOD!
The CD is a solid 8.5 out of 10. If it weren't for Floetry and Big Boi being on the CD, I'd rate it higher.
OH, don't let me forget Public Enemy. I just brought New Whirl Odor today. I got it on "g.p.". I was disappointed by the lyrics, but the beats are STILL BANGING. The beats alone make me give it a 7 out of 10.
One of the best said Malthusian libertarian summaries of the current state of affairs that I've come upon to date. It begs the question of whether we can stop distracting ourselves long enough to concentrate and generate a feedback loop of sufficient intensity to alter our trajectory into the economic phase transition. Note this is only about altering our trajectory because there's no question that we're coming to ground shortly. All that remains in question is whether we execute a landing or whether we crash.
It is a bitter truth to swallow that the American peace movement, by itself, did not end the Vietnam War. It ended, primarily, because the Vietnamese people fought tenaciously, purchased freedom with their own lives and bloodied America's nose. It ended because America's soldiers, mostly Black, began to mutiny, and because college-aged boys, mostly White, declined to fight or die for a war that meant nothing to them. It ended because of the massive stresses in the American economy, the inflation, the devaluation of the dollar, the crisis caused byskyrocketing oil prices due to the 1973 oil embargo. It ended because the feedback loop of the Vietnam War threatened to rip apart the carefully engineered society of America.
Pat Robertson was right when he suggested that the United States would assassinate Venezuela's Hugo Chavez.
Robertson, of course, is a hypocrite and one of this country's most effective ad men for atheism. In the main, Pat Robertson is a medieval, witch-burning, fool. However, he moves among people who are either within or near to the circles of power. They are not nice people, but they are not fools. Robertson has either heard directly from this country's rulers' own lips, or heard from reliable sources close to them, that the US does, indeed, have President Chavez in its cross-hairs.
Robertson sees himself as a prophet with a direct line to God. All medieval witch-burners do. He is a fool because he could not resist opening his mouth and blabbing to the whole world that he had foreknowledge about America's black bag operations to assassinate yet another democratically elected foreign leader. By speaking so brazenly -- and prematurely -- Robertson caused two immediate effects: First, he provoked sanctimonious denials from other political witch-burners like Minnesota's Republican Senator Norm Coleman and Secretary of War Donald Rumsfeld. Second, Mr. Robertson's intemperate prattling has, in essence, spilled the beans about the all-too-real US plan to kill President Chavez. Thus has Pat Robertson unwittingly spared Hugo Chavez from the death that was, indeed, prepared for him -- at least for the time being -- and earned Mr. Robertson a public scolding from those liars whose dark secret he has disclosed.
There are numerous wonders associated with what Mr. Robertson said. Why, for example, are so many Americans shocked by the notion that, covertly or overtly, their leaders would assassinate another country's head of government?
It is one thing to have forgotten our history from the last century, when the US helped to violently overthrow the popularly elected governments of Chile (Allende) and Iran (Mossadegh) and nearly every country in Central America from Panama (Omar Torrijos) to Guatemala (Jacob Arbenz). Can the majority of Americans have already forgotten that even in this century we have forcibly removed Jean-Bertrand Aristide, the duly elected president of Haiti, and unhesitatingly supported undemocratic governments in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, the Philippines and Kazakhstan? Political assassination, of course, is not an exclusive tool of American foreign policy. This country's readiness to covertly kill political leaders who offend us puts the US in league with Ariel Sharon, Stalin, Rome's Caligula, feudal Europe and the medieval despots of the declining Byzantine Empire.
It is no surprise that Mr. Robertson and his fellow medievalists have most in common with the theocrats of Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and the Taliban in Afghanistan. The word “assassin”, after all, is derived from the medieval French word, “hassassis” (hashish takers) given to Muslim fanatics who committed to “assassinate” Christian crusaders who had occupied the Middle East. Thus has Mr. Robertson eschewed the peace-extremist teachings of Jesus of Nazareth and endorsed the tactics of medieval, anti-occupation, Crusader-killing, dope-smoking, Islamic insurgents.
The Administration's more-or-less official response to Mr. Robertson's statements was that such an assassination would be “illegal” under US law. But why would the public accept that explanation when it is obvious that the 'rule of law' in America applies only to the lesser classes, and not to them at the highest level of policy making? Political and social leaders have been assassinated within and without the United States for decades, usually without the sanction of law; and if the US government had not its own finger on the trigger, then it found the usual collaborators who, for the purchase of power or money, would pull the trigger as America's proxy.
Meanwhile, America's perpetually vacationing medieval king says nothing while he shakes spears at the world and mutters disingenuously, like Henry II, “Will no one rid me of this meddlesome chaviste?”
The election of Mr. Bush and the influence of Pat Robertson and his dominionist ilk are markers of a degenerate medievalization of America. So, too, are the efforts in some quarters to push Science back into the Middle Ages and to undermine evolution with oxymoronic notions of “intelligent design”. Notwithstanding advances in technology, America is regressing backwards from its Enlightenment origins into medievalism. The people who scream their patriotism the loudest seem to be the most determined to destroy the Founders' dreams by creating a medieval theocracy like only Torquemada could love.
History often shows that blind religious fervor, superstition, sectarian violence, witch hunts and intolerance increase in society commensurate with increasing economic stress. Thus, “technology”, in and of itself, does not protect a society when economic surpluses start to disappear and the competition for depleting resources becomes sharp. Technology will not brake the superstitious, frightened flight into medieval religious irrationality when the people find their jobs disappearing, their purchasing power devalued, their houses becoming too expensive to heat, their cars too expensive to fuel, everything costing more for less value -- in short, as the brief historical blip of American middle class prosperity between the age of coal and the age of the Internet evaporates. It is in times like these, historically, that the people turn to charismatic religious leaders.
Why do we seem so unable to arrest America's backsliding from modernity? Other than the occasional demonstration, protest march or election between greater or lesser evils, concerned American citizens cannot seem to gain any traction. Except for the spontaneous actions of people like Cindy Sheehan, organized resistance to the witch-burning medievalists has, at least in these United States, resulted in more disappointment than quantifiable success. Why is this?
Partly, it is because beginning around the time of the First World War, America has been a laboratory for very successful social engineering on a grand scale. By a deliberate, decades long, coordinated training of the American people -- through print, film, radio and television and their infusion into the institutions of education -- the most powerful business/political interests have thoroughly inculcated the citizenry with a medieval serf's docility and acceptance of authority. Our colleges and universities have been re-made into incubators for obedient corporate employees and consumers. Whereas once we were a wilder, more independent pack of dogs, now we tend to bark when told to bark, shut up when told to shut up, and lick the hand that merely refrains from striking us. We have been trained to be collared, to walk on a leash, and to think of it as though we were walking the master and not the other way around. We eat the kibbles that trickle down to us and we have been trained not to bite.
In part, enlightened Americans have become politically impotent because we have been purchased with the excesses afforded by abundant, cheap energy. Like peasants in Pieter Bruegel's Land of Cockaign, we luxuriated in a relative life of ease and forgot that we were once a revolutionary people who had to wrest our Enlightenment from an empire by blood, force and strength of will. Now, when the hard labor of political effort beckons to us, we can, instead, do the institutionally approved, time-consuming things like go shopping, go to the movies, watch a baseball game, play the slot machines, drink a beer, play a video game, anything that entertains and distracts us from the task of democracy. There is Michael Jackson to titillate, Pat to pontificate, American Idols and more American idles.
In part, even the Enlightened portions of the citizenry have been enervated by the soma of this Brave New World. Some think that occasional charitable deeds, or a few dollars contributed to this NGO or another, or a weekend demonstration (time permitting), or effusions of love and understanding will change the world. While they cannot hurt, by themselves, none of these actions will accomplish anything. In fact, the control tendrils of surveillance, monitoring, and foundation grants, we should have no doubt, have already so vascularized, so infiltrated into even the highest levels of the most noble appearing organizations such that only the spontaneous, non-hierarchical actions of the Cindy Sheehans of this world can hope to effect real change. It is as though the Powers tolerate, even indirectly fund, the ineffectual organized protest that they do permit to take place because these are a social pressure release mechanism that dissipates resistive energy, a controlled burn intended to prevent a larger conflagration.
It is a bitter truth to swallow that the American peace movement, by itself, did not end the Vietnam War. It ended, primarily, because the Vietnamese people fought tenaciously, purchased freedom with their own lives and bloodied America's nose. It ended because America's soldiers, mostly Black, began to mutiny, and because college-aged boys, mostly White, declined to fight or die for a war that meant nothing to them. It ended because of the massive stresses in the American economy, the inflation, the devaluation of the dollar, the crisis caused byskyrocketing oil prices due to the 1973 oil embargo. It ended because the feedback loop of the Vietnam War threatened to rip apart the carefully engineered society of America.
As painful as the end of the age of cheap, abundant energy will be, it may allow Americans to bust out of their gilded cages. It is, after all, in the less affluent countries of today's world -- where there is less time for social foppery and fewer resources for idle consumerism -- where we find the lessons Americans must learn if it is to avoid descending into a new medievalism.
In Mexico this year, more than a million citizens turned out, effectively shutting down the capital city. They prevented the ruling mainstream parties from contriving, through judicial machination, to extinguish the presidential ambitions of its popular, left-leaning politician, Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador. In Ecuador, the people rose, first to oust their unrepresentative president and, second, to shut down the oil industry until it renegotiates its national contracts. In Bolivia, in June 2005, a coalition of indigenous and working class people threw out a leadership that had sold off the nation's mineral and energy patrimony to western corporate interests. In the years while Americans disputed the limped electoral contests of Bush versus Gore or Bush versus Kerry, the citizens of Brazil, Venezuela, Argentina and Uruguay also practiced enlightenment and swept their political houses clean.
In Europe this spring, the EU proposed a constitution that was, in essence, a carte blanche for multinational corporate rule. Overriding the cajolery of their leadership, the citizens of France and Holland overwhelmingly voted NO, thereby extinguishing (for the moment) big business's attempt to undo Europe's social safety nets and remake the continent in America's neo-liberal/neo-conservative image.
We can relearn lessons in enlightenment by looking abroad. The lessons will not mean anything, however, until the economic stress in this country equals that of the nations we would learn from; until the seductions of a surplus society yield to the reality of scarcity. That time could be coming sooner than you think: as soon as your next trip to the gas pump, as soon as your next winter heating bill, as soon as your next electrical power outage.
It is then that America's descent into medievalism could begin to be seriously checked. May the Enlightenment prevail.
Zbignew Zingh can be reached at Zbig@ersarts.com. This Article is CopyLeft, and free to distribute, reprint, repost, sing at a recital, spray paint, scribble in a toilet stall, etc. to your heart’s content, with proper author citation. Find out more about Copyleft and read other great articles at www.ersarts.com.
Article source at dissidentvoice.org
Teri Woods is making LOOT writing hard core urban fiction. While some wonder whether this is good for "African American Literature" (and peep Raymond Williams on the creation of "literature") I think they're missing the mark. Woods isn't looking to knock out Ellison.
She's looking to knockout Bay.
On the most segregated day in the country, a thought just occurred to me.
Some accuse "Hollywood liberals" of being racist because Blacks and other "people of color" have a very hard time getting roles. But Hollywood is a very capitalist system, meaning those who generate money, get money to generate more money.
If "Hollywood liberals" give Blacks and other "people of color" fewer roles, maybe it's because they think that Blacks and "people of color" won't generate the type of revenue that they are seeking. And if that's the case, is it Hollywood, or the audience, who is to blame?
My wife and kids are watching The Wiz while i'm working or at least trying to work. I've been thinking about world-building for some random reason or another. Reading The Lord of the Rings for example, can give you a very clear sense of how the different languages develop across time....but there is absolutely no discussion about either economy or state formation.
(What the hell does this have to do with The Wiz?)
The only part I caught was the introduction of the Wicked Witch. Don't go bringing me NO BAD NEWS.
We have a very clear idea of WHY homegirl is the Wicked Witch. Remember, the world of Oz (in the Wiz) is decidedly urban. Homegirl is feared because she's got them damn munchkins WORKING. Ain't had no lunchbreak in MONTHS.
I am not sure I recall why the Wicked Witch (in the traditional movie) had juice.
On the other hand, the Wiz? He's got them mugs so caught up, they're engaging in widespread fashion changes every two minutes!
An overlooked classic.
Bill Cosby might be embroiled in a doping-and-groping scandal, but that's not going to stop him from talking morals.
In an interview with ABC's Nightline airing Wednesday and previewed on Good Morning America, Cosby's first TV sit-down since being sued for sexual assault, the entertainer says that any mistakes he may have made in his personal life will not keep him from urging African-American to take more personal responsibility. Such comments provoked a firestorm of controversy last year.
I find it interesting that some want to ignore the messenger, in this situation, and focus on the message. That doesn't get said from some of those people about Jesse Jackson or Lewis Farrakhan.
But that's not the point of this entry. The point of this entry is to mention, again, what I've mentioned before:
Chances are, the people who need to hear "Cosby's message" and to take it to heart, are not the people going to hear him speak or take it to heart if they do.
Here is something for you to consider: Blacks formally and informally adopt children of family, and friends, at a rate that is higher than white people. As has been the case in my family, it could be because of a tragic circumstance that leaves the children without parents, or it could be a temporary situation while the parent gets their living situation in order, or it could be a situation where the parent is in jail or on drugs or living a criminal lifestyle.
In the cases where the parent is living a criminal lifestyle or is on drugs, what would they care about what Cosby has to say? My suspicion is that they could not care less.
From what I have witnessed and/or heard and/or been a part of, are people close to the situation trying to encourage those lacking appropriate parenting skills to do a better job.
From what I have witnessed and/or heard and/or been a part of, are people close to the situation taking over the parenting role.
I want you to think about what it takes to handle a situation where you tell someone that they aren't parenting correctly AND get it to be heard, thought upon, and the behavior changed.
Do YOU think Cosby's tactics will work?
Or, if you have seen the situations I have, you already know that it will probably take a long period of time before things change for the better. (That could be the parent changing how they handle their duties, or the parent getting help to help themselves, or the parent giving the parenting duties to someone who could do a better job).
In that context, think about what I mentioned earlier: Blacks formally and informally adopt children of family, and friends, at a rate that is higher than white people.
don't give me that do goody good bullshit...,
The inadequacies of Tool Theory can be overcome, and the phenomena that it fails to explain can be integrated, by asserting that money also acts as a Drug. That is, we conclude that money derives some of its incentive power from providing the illusion of fulfilment of certain instincts.
Money as tool, money as drug: The biological psychology of a strong incentive
If I were to choose one group without whom much of hip-hop, electro, house, techno (Detroit and otherwise), and related electronic musics would be possible....I'd probably choose Kraftwerk. The idea that a few German classical musicians could later inspire a former gang leader from the Bronx (Afrika Bambaata), and a trio of metro Detroit DJ's (Juan Atkins, Derrick May, and Kevin Saunderson), doesn't quite jibe with our understanding of black cultural production. Asking a similar question I asked about Detroit Bass (now "Baltimore Club"), how is it that these productions grab hold of us not letting go even in case of emergency? I remember where I was vividly when I heard Rapper's Delight for the first time. We were driving across the railroad tracks past the Satellite Bowling Alley on the way home.
I also remember where I was the first time I heard Kraftwerk's "Numbers". Talked about it all next day in Mr. O'Kray's class.
Thinking about our role as agents (rather than passive consumers), what are we mapping onto these productions ourselves? What do we see in them? What did I as a working class black kid growing up right outside of post-industrial Detroit see here?
As an aside, I didn't realize the degree to which Kraftwerk themselves were influenced by free jazz innovations from here in the states. Completing the circle...and giving Wynton Marsalis even more fits.
Tonight at Nerve Ryan Kennedy talks about Baltimore Club a type of song that mixes 2 Live Crew type lyrics with house music percussion and pace.
I remember the first time I encountered house music within the pages of a Chicago newspaper. The year was 1991. Considering that I'd been a house music acolyte for six years already, and the scene had been hot (in Chicago, mind) for at least another four before that, you figure that being ten years late was better than being 11 years late.
Here? I thought Nerve was supposed to be hot. Supposed to be on it.
Baltimore Club? This is nothing but Detroit bass music...which had replaced house and Detroit techno on the airwaves and most club playlists by 1992. Strippers used to shake to it, young undergrads and high schoolers used to move to it, and a white Michigan undergrad by the name of DJ Assault made himself quite a name on it. Think of house music on a combination of speed and Viagara and you get the picture.
I just don't know why the hell it took so long for Nerve to get the picture. I hope Kennedy didn't pitch the story to someone else too. No need for two news magazines to get took.
For me Baltimore and Detroit have a great deal in common. I don't think it's a coincidence that the music grabs a hold of Baltimore the same it did Detroit.
and on the liminal tip, Lucas joins his fellow georgean Galloway and shows precisely how to lay the P.I.M.P hand down on The Man.
Viewed with several hundred other nerds playing hookie y'day morning at a mega-auditorium in Kansas, and despite the plague of simplemindedness wreaking havoc across the state - this pop-cultural screed against neocon tyranny received a standing ovation at the end.
Time magazine has a feature on Dave Chappelle, who recently left his show on Comedy Central. People speculated that he'd had a mental breakdown.
I thought otherwise.
What struck me about the Chappelle show was that is was extremely edgy. Literally skirting the edge between sly racial commentary and cooning in some cases. In fact, talking it over with my wife last night I am surprised no one has made the comparison between Chappelle and the character from Spike Lee's classic Bamboozled. Chappelle's problem seemed to me to be a simple one to diagnose--he was successful.
We all WANT success. We think we work hard at it. We think we yearn for it. But I believe that most of us are really very comfortable working in relative obscurity. Every now and then we get our fifteen minutes of fame, but not only do we not want to work for it, but if we get it we have no idea what to do with it.
Think about Lotto winners. You ever read follow up stories about them? About how they end up being extremely depressed, often times losing their friends, their family, and THEN their loot in the bargain?
I think this is what is happening here. And the fact that Chappelle has made his loot doing racially edgy comedy makes it even harder. I'm not convinced that he had a strong grasp on when his comedy was pandering to racism BEFORE he blew up. I'm thinking it's got to be even HARDER for him to keep that vision in mind now.
I'm starting to get into the mode of looking for a new car. My car is now 8 years old with 160K miles on it. It's a decent car and I'm sure I could get another 100K out of it easily, but I have to admit that cars are a weakness of mine.
I can delay big financial purchases easily, but with cars, it's a different matter.
I was looking at the Acura MDX and the Lexus 330, but the idea of paying $40K for an Isuzu Rodeo or $40K for a nice looking, but small, SUV didn't sit too well with me. Besides, it's the Toyota Highlander.
It irks me that the luxury cars provided by the Japanese car makers are plushed out versions of their more pedestrian line.
Then I started thinking, I could get a nice car for that price, even though, sometimes, I really need the space of an SUV. But if I'm going to pay that kind of money, let's go with BMW or Mercedes Benz.
The new 3 Series looks nice, especially since they are going to give the car more room. I really like the 5 Series, but the comments about the "I System" have turned me off.
The Mercedes Benz C class always catches my eye. But the amount of horse power for the car is a concern. I've had enough weak engines. My wife's car is a V6, and though it's not fast from stop, once it's up to speed, it goes.
Then I think about the recall the BMW and Benz's have had and I wonder how such "German engineered" cars can be in the state that they are in. I won't even consider Audi, though they are pretty cars. The track record for finding a good mechanic for Audis, and Volkswagons, is not good.
I guess I should consider American iron. Uhh.... Then again, they have been having recall problems as well, right?
NEXT!!!!!
Back to the Japanese lux-cars again, and what do I see? The new Lexus GS.
Oh, and look at the Infiniti M!
Queue Christopher Williams...
Don't wake me.
I'm dreammeennnnnnnnnnn
Which Podcasts Can I Download From The RNC?
Right now the RNC is offering "BookCast," an interview show with Conservative book authors, and "Off The Record," a web interview series with Republican leaders, for download. Additional podcasts will be available soon.
If this madness is true, then I have a question:
Why wait years before speaking up that you saw this kind of act?
Some people besides Jacko belong in jail: the kids' parents who let them go over Jacko's house and sleep in the man's room, the people who saw things but didn't notify the police, and the lawyers who took part in the pay offs.
I saw He Got Game for the first time in seven years just a few minutes ago. The last time I saw it was the weekend it came out. Caused me to resurrect the dead so to speak, and bring this old piece out. My ideas on it haven't changed much.
Ruminations
4/26/98
I checked out a piece in Esquire about Denzel Washington, and He’s Got Game , the newest movie from Spike Lee. Given that Washington and Milwaukee’s Ray Allen are starring, I figured that it’d automatically be the greatest basketball movie ever made, with the probably exception of Hoop Dreams on one side, and Hoosiers on the other. At first I thought that this one was probably a keeper—the first Spike Lee movie I’d seen at the theaters since Malcolm X.
Reading John Edgar Wideman’s piece made me think differently though.
This is the plot in a nutshell. When Jesus (Ray Allen, the central character of the film) is a young boy, his father (Washington) pushes him mercilessly, in order to make him a better player. In an argument with his wife about the way he pushes the boy, Washington inadvertently kills her. He’s sent to jail, presumably for life—or near enough to it.
Years pass.
Jesus becomes the best player in the country, pursued by dozens and dozens of college coaches. Washington is given an opportunity to get out of jail early. The only thing he has to do is convince his son to choose the college of the warden (and governor’s) choice. The movie then deals with the various pressures that Jesus faces, from unscrupulous agents, to unscrupulous coaches, to drug dealers, to women. Basketball is used then as the background whereas the tale really deals with fatherless children and their attempt to navigate the concrete jungle.
I still think I’m going to see it, but moreso in order to check out my prediction skills. The tale Spike is trying to tell here doesn’t interest me much, because it plays into the same type of movie that black people have been forced to see themselves in for much of the eighties. The victimization movie. The social pathology flick. Why?
My feelings for basketball are almost as great as if basketball were my child. It is undoubtedly the greatest game I’ve ever had the pleasure to see, the greatest game I have ever participated in. My father, who was all-city back in his day, has been trying to get me to play golf (his basketball playing days were cut wayy short after a broken hip in ’84). He’s even offered to buy me clubs. I had to tell him to put those clubs on hold for a bit, because I just couldn’t see myself taking any of my time playing basketball, and using that time to learn golf. Not that I have a thing against golf mind you—I’ve been watching it with zeal ever since T.C. Chen hit a triple bogie that cost him the U.S. Open back in the mid eighties.
But basketball is my thing. And I’ll be playing until they have to cart me off….
Now from what I know, Spike feels the same way as I do—though I’m pretty sure he hasn’t ever really played. So my question is simple. Why in the hell is he using basketball to tell a pathological story about black people? I’m not saying that Jesus’ story here is one that doesn’t happen. There are people who attempt to live their lives through their children, and basketball is a particularly strong venue. There are also agents, coaches, and other shadowy figures who attempt to corrupt players just so they can ensure themselves an NCAA bid. Furthermore, colleges and universities make a killing economically, off the bodies of their star athletes. But in focusing on the mundane in this case, Spike really misses the point.
The reason why basketball is fast becoming America’s game—and only time will be needed to replace the stories of Joe DiMaggio with those of Magic, Bird, Isiah, and Michael—is because represents the most heroic endeavor, individual improvisation within the confines of group responsibility—made sport. It is the athletic equivalent of jazz, whereas baseball can be likened to European chamber music, with some improvisation but a great deal more of orchestration from above. The effort of taking the raw stuff given to us by life, and transforming it on the fly into something grand and wonderful, truly represents the greatest act of the human spirit, other than giving life. Watching one person do this is joy enough—Michael Jordan for example raising up head and shoulders above the Los Angeles Lakers, his right hand extended for the flush, then changing hands in mid air at the last second and finishing it off with a layup. Or better yet, Julius Erving dribbling on the baseline (again against the Lakers), trying to find a seam, an opening, a gap he can use to go to the hole. Finding no such seam he jumps. From one side of the baseline (underneath the basket) to the other. Making a sure turnover into a reverse layup. Wait, not simply a reverse layup, but one of the greatest individual moves ever seen in sport.
Watching one person do this is joy enough. But to watch an entire team think, respond, modify, change, shift, fuse, all at the speed of thought?
If Spike is in love with the game, as I am, why didn’t he make this movie? A movie about the triumph of the human spirit, about the will to create order out of chaos? The grand dialogue between the individual and the group? By remaining mired in a discourse driven more by current social thought about the African American family in alleged crisis, Spike misses the grand nature of the game that has been molded and changed by the very group pathologized! People don’t play basketball to get out of the "ghetto," they play it because of its transformative potential.
They play it because of the chance to test their improvisational skills. They play it because every time they get on the court, they know they can be part of something truly special. Something dreams are made of. They play it because it truly is the greatest game on Earth. And they play it because they know that this is so, because they made it so.
Maybe if Spike actually sat and watched the games played in the playgrounds of NYC, rather than read about how so-and-so was exploited by so-and-so college, he’d know this. Because as it stands, though Ray Allen’s got game, Spike’s needs a bit of work……..
Addendum 5/4/98
I just checked out the flick today. Spike’s movie was…ok. But it wasn’t about basketball as much as it was about relationships between fathers and sons, as well as between individuals and corporate machines—in this case a basketball prospect and the college recruiting machine. As such it was decent, but Spike’s script has at least three serious problems. The most glaring is the lack of character development. We don’t know what Washington’s character (Jesus’ father) did for a living, we don’t know what McKee’s character (Jesus’ mother) did for a living, in fact we don’t know what any of Jesus’ family members actually do. It’s as if every responsible adult in the film is jobless. Except of course for those adults tied somehow into the machine. The characters’ flatness takes much of the complexity and richness out of the story. And the one time we do get a glimpse into Dawson’s character (Jesus’ girlfriend) for example, it occurs in one scene only.
The second problem has to do with Jovovich’s character—the prostitute that Washington befriends. Her character (which was as maldeveloped as the rest) didn’t really fit within the context of the story. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why she was there—except possibly as a compromise with studio execs who may want to see a white love interest in order to attract a white audience that allegedly won’t watch "black" films without them.
The third problem is a familiar one—the gender dynamic. The most visible female characters in this movie are both prostitutes; Jovovich’s literal one, and Dawson’s figurative one. We do get to see more, but mostly through the extended pathological vision of Jesus’ Big Willie friend, a vision which conveniently allows Spike to show even more women in various acts of sexual degradation. I didn’t see either "Clockers" or "Crooklyn" but I’ve seen every other Lee movie, and I find it more than interesting that you can count the number of real love scenes in ALL of his movies put together, on one hand.
The movement of the film was also somewhat stunted, but it’s difficult to say whether Spike did this on purpose— another way to show how claustrophobic the environment around Jesus was—or on accident.
On final analysis this movie, for me, is like most of Spike’s other movies. Entertaining enough on first glance, but painful to watch afterward. And given that this movie is supposed to be about the glorious game of basketball, I was even more disappointed to find out that this movie was no different..
I picked up the Wu-Tang Manual after checking it out on Amazon.com I think. The RZA can't play chess for a damn, but the book contains layers upon layers. Then I hear this interview conducted by Terry Gross. I remember an interview Kevin Powell conducted with Wynton Marsalis, and Powell gave Marsalis a softball that allowed Wynton to go off on one of his anti-rap tangents. Listening to the interview with the RZA it is clear that Wynton's problem is that he has a very different conception of disciple--again that word. And that he doesn't have the ear to hear what's going on with something like Enter the 36 Chambers. Now granted, it isn't necessarily like Ludacris has an ear for The Magic House either...but you know what I mean.
A friend of mine died earlier in the week. One of Saint Louis' true house heads. When we think about black struggle, we often don't think of the people who are responsible for bringing us joy. For giving us the strength to go back and fight. More even than hip-hop, I think for a number of people born between say 1957 and 1987, house fulfilled that role.
.....
“House is our release, house is our sanctuary…can you feel it like I feel it?”
The quote above is taken from a track that I play every now and again. For those of us whose lives have been changed from exposure to house music, the quote captures a great deal. I am a father, a husband, a professor, a writer. But with the exception of the birth of my children, the closest I’ve come to God was on the dance floor.
When I moved to Saint Louis, I didn’t expect to find house here. Imagine my surprise when I stepped into a club on a Sunday night of all times, and found it. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly how the scene developed the way it did, again in Saint Louis of all places. Best I can figure there were a couple of influential DJs, some promoters, and some entrepreneurs who’d realized that there was money to be made in bringing house music into the Saint Louis club scene.
But at the center of it all are the house heads. The people who fill the clubs. The people who raise their hands. The people who know when a DJ is on…and when the DJ is off.
Tony was at the center of this group, acting as kind of a reverse black hole projecting light outward. Projecting love for the music, love for the culture, outward. As far as I can figure it for the last ten-thirteen years Tony (and Luan) have been bringing up a generation of club kids. Different races. Different nationalities. Different sexualities. Different classes. People grew up and found their mates through hanging out with Tony. They became connected through Tony and Luan.
Saint Louis is one of the most segregated cities in the country. In the end, that’s one of the reasons why I am sending this from Baltimore rather than being there in person. In Saint Louis it was often harder for me to get water from a rock than it was to find a place where people from different backgrounds could come together.
One of the only exceptions was the space I found Tony and Luan in the center of.
In paying respects to him, it is important to realize that he wasn’t perfect. Far from it. MAN, did he gossip!
And in the end while house and the culture that grew up around it offers us sanity, love, light, life…it can also take much. Then having taken, it often moves on…like the groove we ride on. While some of us realized this, Tony probably came to this conclusion when he didn’t have a great deal of time left.
I, along with many others, am sad for his family, for his fiancé, and for the people who truly knew and loved him. But at the same time I feel blessed that I was able to come into his circle, albeit briefly. We’ve all come into contact in one way or another with the darker spaces in Saint Louis. What house music BRINGS us, what Tony BROUGHT us was a little more light. I am hoping that people who were touched by him realize what that light meant, and share it themselves.
LaShawn Barber is commenting on Kwanzaa. She isn't the only one and this is not a direct response to her, except in one instance.
Every year around this time, there are a flurry of comments about Kwanzaa, what it is, it's origins, etc. And each year, there are the same comments made about it.
So, let me "respond" to a few of the more common comments.
"It's a made up holiday."
Correct. It is a made up holiday. So what? Name one holiday that isn't made up.
"Karenga is a felon."
Correct. If you can show he is still doing illegal activities, then you will have a point. Otherwise, it doesn't matter. If you think it matters, here are some names for you: Don King, G. Gordon Liddy, and Oliver North.
Don King killed a man, but he was good enough to be used as a Bush backer, wasn't he? Liddy was a central figure in Watergate. He helped plan the break in. Oliver North was convicted for his part with the Iran-Contra scandal. Does it matter for them?
"Kwanzaa is not an African celebration".
True. But Karenga never said it was a genuine African celebration. He said he made it up. So, duh.
However, this last one, concerning Christians celebrating Kwanzaa, is one that has the greatest merit. This one comes from LaShawn.
[Kwanzaa] attempts to spiritualize [Black] history, replacing Christ-centered theology with pagan principles. For Christians, the only principles by which to live are found in Gods word, the Bible.
That is truth. That is firm ground.
To "respond" to this, all I can say is there needs to be more consistancy in speaking out against other celebrations. For example, Mardi Gras is straight debauchery. It's a celebration before the period of Lent. The over indulgence of alcohol, food, and foolishness should be called what it's is.
Then there is the current celebration of Christmas with the idols of Santa (and the forgotton Moor Pete), Rudolph, "The Grinch", etc. I'm not a wordsmith by a long shot, but I used the world "idol" for a reason. Then, to add on this, is the commercialism of gift giving. The commercialism so important that it is said that many businesses do not make a profit for the year if they don't make money during the time between Thanksgiving and the end of the year.
So, how about some consistency in the criticism?
Booker Rising gives another view.
What is this mess about parents going on strike against their kids?
Ummm... Have they tried?
Revoking privileges?
No allowance?
Kicking the 17 year old son out of the house?
Not washing their clothes so that they have to go dirty or clean their clothes?
"We've tried reverse psychology, upside down psychology, spiral psychology and nothing has motivated them for any length of time," said Cat Barnard, 45, as she sat in a lawn chair at an umbrella-covered table.How about spanking their kids?
How about kicking THEM out of the house!
I'm paying the mortgate and I'M OUTSIDE!?!?!?!?
And to top it off, the parent's aren't ashamed!
John Leland in his book on "hip" notes that the term derives from Africa. In this piece Jesse Sheidlower argues that this is bunk.
He's most likely right.
Now I believe there are a variety of loan words and concepts that do come from Africa. If you check out Sheidlower TODAY for example, you'd see a picture of Miles Davis blowing. If you listen to Kind of Blue, you can hear a distinct African influence. Miles was trying to capture a very specific kind of sound that he'd heard there.
But the type of sensibility that makes African American culture special should be understood as a thing that has roots that stem back to Africa...but as a distinctly American enterprise.
Let me see if I understand this correctly.
You sign a deal with an organization that you know is "people of color" challenged. You know the audience matches the people heading the organization. Then, you quit after your first contract is up?
We had agreed on the destination we were to arrive at, but somewhere along the line NPR wavered in the journey. Our show is the most multiracial in NPR's entire history, it has the youngest demographic of any show in NPR's history, so progress was being made. My concern was the pace the network was moving at-- it wasn't fast enough.
Uhhh....
Kneee. Grow. Please.
Respect on what he did at NPR.
Because I wanted to hear the show, I tuned in to WEAA. It is Morgan University's radio station. I knew it had jazz, but I was unfamiliar with it's talk programming.
They have some decent talk shows. Instead of listening to the jazz every now and then, I became hooked on the station's evening programming. Now I contribute money to the station.
I wonder how the end of Tavis' show will affect WEAA.
Wiley isn't coming back. And more times than I care to count, I wish he was around. But a couple of articles by Ric Bucher and Skip Bayless give me hope. For sports journalism, if not for the rest of the world.
OK, it's my turn concerning the basketbrawl.
Artest is a knucklehead. He should have never gone into the stands over a thrown beer. However, I am NOT one of the... what's the phrase? ... class warfare IDJIOTS who say that as a person making that sort of money, Artest should have just taken it.
HELL NO!!!!
I earn a decent living, but let some fool throw a beer in my face and we are battling. And, believe me, I'm going to do my best to bring a beat down as a statement.
Period.
And to hear folks who normally speak out against class warfare actually take part in it,...
The man should be thrown out of the league. The same with Sprewell.
Adios. Bye. Gone.
Here, LKS weighs in on the matter. We are in line with the punishment aspect of it.
So, as I catch up from my Thanksgiving with the sister-in-laws in Florida, I'm scanning blog country and it seems like brother Cobb hits it in a similar fashion.
Of course, race plays a factor.
I was listening to Rush Limbaugh and he metioned the "Hip Hop" culture as being to blame.
Yet, he lists similiar out of control actions of fans and sports players in soccer, baseball, and hockey. I seem to remember a tennis player mooning the audience or a line judge.
And then there are rioting fans and "fans" in a Europen country who killed a coach in a pub.
But Limbaugh went so far as to say that the NFL is incorporating GANG COLORS in their uniforms.
What the huh?
Someone explain that one to me.
Still, Artest needs to be gone. If I were the owner of the team, he would have received a season suspension on g.p. of wanting time off to promote a CD. For me, it doesn't matter the genre of the CD. Wanting time off for that?
No.
See you next season.
Oh well.
I'm done.
My man Mike jumped into the metaphorical fray noting that Artest's fine was wayy too harsh, and conservatives should defend him. I believe that Stern's judgment was appropriate. If it is overturned and replaced with something far more lenient, I'll be ok with that too. Cobb's central argument is correct. If the fan(atic) doesn't throw the beer, NOTHING HAPPENS.
But of course conservatives will not only sit idly by, they will be on the other side.
The first reason is the obvious one. There's this sticky issue of white privilege going on here. Of COURSE black people who make millions of dollars by performing for white audiences should simply take whatever derision is laid upon them. What? Did I say something wrong? Drunk? So what. What Ron Artest should do in that situation is to TAKE IT. He should be happy to be there. Lucky they don't throw his ass out.
This is the obvious one. One that folks like Mike who emphasize blackness in their conservatism have to recognize.
But the second reason? This incident represents the further coarsening of American culture writ large. In as much as conservatives really do want to stem the tide of uncivilized behavior, I don't see how they can make a call for more civilized discourse and behavior and at the same time defend Ron Artest and protect him from sanction.
This is actually why I actually support punishment, but at the same time support Ron Artest's right to contest the ruling. Because at some point we have to begin to act humanely...and reclaim those Old School Values that make us different and unique.
So we now know the punishments. Artest? Gone for the season. O'Neal? 25 games. Jackson? 25 games. Wallace? 6 games.
I believe that Artest acted as we all would have, and that O'Neal did as well. Jackson? I am not too sure. But even though Artest acted in an understandably human fashion Stern was correct in punishing him like he did.
What about the fans though?
I don't hear any calls to limit beer sales, and I don't know how in the hell you can mouth off about the culture of disrespect without also talking about the culture of liquid courage.
I believe the best way to deal with the fans (short for "fanatics") in this case is not simply to ban them for life, but to take their photographs and purchase a full page ad in Sports Illustrated outing them for what they are. The person who threw the cup, Ben Wallace's brother--the one that drilled Fred Jones, the person that threw a chair off camera, take public pictures of all of them.
Shaming works.
Updated: Here is the chief culprit. The front page of today's Free Press has a mug shot. A self-employed contractor with long criminal record. He has been banned from the palace. I don't think that is enough.
Just saw the tape of the Detroit Pistons-Indiana Pacers game. 45.9 seconds left, Ben Wallace goes to the hole and is fouled hard by Ron Artest. Wallace mushes him in the face, the benches clear. Artest moves away from the melee and reclines on top of the scorers table.
He is struck in the head by an object from the stands....and it's on.
Artest goes into the stands after the fan. Takes the wrong fan out. Another fan attacks him, Stephen Jackson rushes to his aid, as do other Pacers.
Over to the left (from the standpoint of the television viewer) a larger fan coldcocks Fred Jones, twice. Almost levelling him. And then back to the right a chair comes from off camera and hits someone in the head.
Artest gets away and is on the court trying to compose himself...when a fan walks up on him. Hands moving to form fists. Ron Artest mushes him, socks his boy, then an injured Jermaine O'Neal comes running and clocking the fan.
Larry Brown picks up the mike to calm the crowd down. But what the hell is HE going to say? He drops the mic in disgust.
As the Pacers leave with security covering them, fans through everything but the kitchen sink at them as they exit.
A few thoughts come to mind.
I've been in brawls like this. Not as a participant...usually I'm the voice of reason. The last one off the top of my head was in 1997...the year Michigan went undefeated to win a share of the National Championship.
Only they didn't REALLY go undefeated that year. They took a loss at the hands of my fraternity. My younger chapter brothers still have the tape.
Something like that has a trigger, but the trigger while being the catalyst doesn't quite explain everything. This isn't at all like what happened in LA--there were no gang rivalries bubbling close enough to the surface that knowledgeable folks should've known what was going on. And the Palace doesn't have a history of violence. Hell, I might have to go back twenty years or so to the last major act of violence at some type of entertainment event.
But once the contagion spreads, you've really got no choice. You have to either throw hands yourself, or move back. You protect those that cannot protect themselves--move those unconnected out of the way, as well as women and children in general. Once I knew I couldn't prevent Charles Woodson, and the rest of the squad from taking a loss, I took a seat. The only time I got up was to tell the person taping the scene from above to stop the damn tape, because I figured folks could get kicked out of school if the tape got out.
Artest will probably get the brunt of the punishment, but he was protecting himself.
I have to think about this some more--I just saw the tape fifteen minutes ago.
Perhaps those who wonder whether the dynamics of European style soccer brawls would ever hit the US have their answer. Either the NBA is going to end up installing draconian mechanisms of fan regulation, or I think something like this is going to happen again.
Someone in another place in the internet wilderness reminded me of past comments about Jiffy Mix.
See, I see nothing wrong with it. While I appreciate the home made stuff, I'll still throw down with the Jiffy.
So, if you want to read some of me clowning around, keep on reading.
DarkStar's Jiffy Mix Rap
Key:
[ No Jiffy No Peace! ] - background rappin'
*szz szz szzz szzzzzzzzz* - turntable scratchin'
===================
Yo!
Are you readay?
[ Hit MEH! ]
Chorus:
[ Jiffayyyyyyy!!!!
Jah jah jah
Jiffayyyyyyy!!!! ]
Yeah boyeeee!
[ Jiffayyyyyyy!!!!
Jah jah jah
Jiffayyyyyyy!!!!
No Jiffy No Peace!]
Verse1:
Kick up your heals
juz chill to da beat
kick on back
take a load off da feet
DarkStar's bout tah do ya
double time
DarkStar's breakin' yah
off a new Jiffay rhyme!
Verse2:
Ain't dis a trip?
Don't it just figgah?
When your numba 1,
somebody gotta try ta be bigga?
Sellin' tickets
sayin Jiffay ain't all dat
What dey know?
Jiffay gottem all on dey back
Well let me tell yah a story
Juz let DarkStar flow
let me tell yah a story
juz to let you playah haters know!
Verse 3:
Walkin' down da street
checkin the new WooTang beat
Juz gettin my thrills
yo! the Woo got skillz
And then an image!
Yo whadda I see!
Lovely
Beautiful
A baby boo brown walkin' ta me
She had on a mini
Fellahs, she was wearin' it well
I am droolin'
I know that she could tell
She gets next to meh
I say
"Yo slim, how yah doin?"
She juz iggs meh
her gum she keeps on chewin'
I say, "Excuse meh ladaaaaay...
May I speak with thee?"
She stops and looks, and those
browns juz stare at me.
I say, "Baby boo, you fine, you all dat"
She smacks her lips and says,
"That line is whack!
If you wanna know me,
you gotta come stronger than that!"
"Okay boo, let me just speak my mind.
You're lookin good... Screw that,
baby you're PHAT!"
"I wanna know, just how it could be
a baby boo gets tah look so healtheeee!"
Verse 4:
"Let me tell yah
yah look like a country girl!
let me tell yah
yah makin the menz head's swirl"
"what cha' mamma feed yeah?!?!
I gotta know her trix"
She just said,
"Chicken, greens, and Jiffy Mix!"
Hold up baby!!!!! Whatcha' sayin to a fellah?
Yah know now yah soundin' like some
Fuzzy Zeeeellllllaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!
Verse 5:
"Fuzzy?
Me?
No. Not the T. Traaayceeeeeeee.
Juz come on
home with me
and babeeeeeeeee
you will see"
Now I'm walkin' with Traaaayceeeeeee
How more soupped can I beeeee?
Let me tell you
this ladeee is so fly
10 car wreck cuz she's walkin' by!
We gets to her mom's place
just in time for the
blessin' grace
the table is real packed
and all of the ladees are stacked
stacked with cornbread so high
fellahs to you I would not
could not
won't tell no lie
cornbread all over dah place
some plain, some flavored,
I just can't belieeeeeeeeve this space
[ Hit meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!
Ja Ja Ja
Jifaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!! ]
I just can't believe this scene yo!
Blueberry, raspberry, green chile
[ Jalepenyooooooooooooooooooooooooo ]
They be dunkinnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
dunkin' it like doughnutzzzzzz!!!!
They be sopinnnnnnnnnnnnn'
Like maids be mopppppppiiiiinnnnnnn'
They looked like junkies!
Junkies gettin' there fix!!!
And then I seened it!
[ JIFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYY MIX!!!!! ]
Then it all came together
Like that ying and that yang...
It was all about that taste
That Jiffy Mix Thang!!!!!!!
DarkStar broke you off a new one
and I'm keepin' it real
Just say no to the corn bread bigots
And do what yah feel
'cuz I know you be feelin' me
[ JIFFFFFAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY ]
'cuz you know it's real
[ JIFFFFFAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY ]
'cuz I know you be feelin' me
[ JIFFFFFAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY ]
'cuz you know it's real
[ JIFFFFFAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY ]
Got that question on an email list I'm on.
In as much as I don't know Young Buck from Adam, he isn't from Detroit, isn't related to me, isn't related to anyone who IS related to me, and I've already got sense....I don't know who the "we" is in the above question. WE have already learned.
But I have another question. You've got a long history of gang warfare in the LA Corridor. A lot of that warfare has bled into hiphop, particularly on the West Coast. The epicenter is Knight. Over the last several years, Knight has lost both Dre and Snoop to competitors, and is left in the position of making money off of Tupac's vault.
How are you going to have an award show an hour south of LA, have Knight, Dre, and Snoop there...and have Dre get a Lifetime Achievement Award for service in front of Knight and his entourage, without having precautions in place?
The wife and I just saw Ray.
It was very close to living up to the hype.
It's a good movie. Jamie Foxx does well. By far this is the best acting performance he has done. Reginia King is very close to breaking through.
[ on edit ] The woman who played the mother, Sharon Warren, did a good job.
I give the movie a 9 overall.
Jamie Foxx get's a 9 for acting.
Kerry Washington, as Ray's wife, gets a strong 8.
Sharon Warren is the mother. She gets a strong 8.
Regina King gets a strong 8.
Clifton Powell gets a 7.
Larenz Tate gets a 5, but his role as Quincy Jones wasn't big. I wanted to see more of their relationship.
I know my man S-Train doesn't care much for Detroit. But I know he has respect for its musical history, from Motown to the Detroit Emeralds to the Floaters to the P-Funk All-Stars to Rhythm is Rhythm to Reese and Santonio to Eminem. Seeing Mathers' latest all I can say is: what.
Well...no. I can say more.
Detroit. What.
Saginaw. What.
Inkster. What.
Pontiac. What.
River Rouge. What.
Ecorse. What.
WHAT!
The wife and I saw "Woman Thou Art Loosed, the Movie".
The writing was just "ok" but the acting by Kimberly Elise was POWERFUL!
She deserves a nomination for her acting.
Sister girl came with it!
Thanks again to Dr. Robert Brown.
ABOUT 1,800 miles from here, a black baseball player called a black reporter an Uncle Tom, invoking the deepest culture cut one African-American can inflict on another.Milton Bradley, the Dodgers' right fielder, called the veteran baseball reporter Jason Reid of The Los Angeles Times an Uncle Tom in front of his peers Wednesday. Reid had asked Bradley about being booed by St. Louis fans, and Bradley took offense to the question.
The slight was so deep and personal that Reid had to be restrained.
More here.
Now let's be clear. I don't think I'm saying anything controversial here when I say that Toms exist. People don't always apply the term accurately, but it operates as a convenient informational shortcut that I think is right most of the time. With that said, I don't know whether homeboy in question is a Tom. But I do know that one problem with the article is that it conflates race and class. It is naturally assumed here that black means not just black, but black and working class/poor. Which leaves a number of brothers and sisters who don't know jack about poverty in the lurch.
It's been a full twenty years since the Detroit Tigers won the World Series, fueled by Parrish, Whitaker, Trammell, Gibson, Herndon, Morris, and a blazing 9-0 start.
While we celebrated part of the city burned. And the picture that most accurately captured the experience was of a young white boy standing in front of a burning car smiling for the camera.
In the twenty years since the Free Press was able to hunt Bubba down. This is his story.
As the debates come to a head tonight in Saint Louis (on my yard, though I won't be there), I wonder who Bubba would've voted for? My gut tells me Bush. Though I can't see anything in Bush's policies that would've done anything for Bubba besides make him feel manly.
Collective thought, aka group think.
What a concept.
At a GOP convention, Colin Powell said he supported affirmative action and he was booed. No group think there.
Better yet, let a white person agree with Blacks on issues and sooner or later, someone will accuse that white person of being a "guilty white liberal."
So tell me why those who call people "guilty white liberals" are NOT taking part in group think. Aren't they assuming that all whites should think alike?
And if conservatives believe that Blacks don't need Black leaders, why are conservatives trying to pass off people like Jesse Lee Peterson as a Black leader?
Identifying as a "Black conservative". That's not "group think"?
Isn't it interesting that "Black conservatives" seem to have a scream of "victimology" when stating certain things? What's not "group thinking" on the misuse of such a silly phrase?