Postgraduate Musings

It's Amazing

2010-05-14T16:51:00.003-04:00

It's Amazing

2010-05-14T16:51:00.000-04:00

2010-05-05T01:33:00.001-04:00

Show Chris Matthews The Way...Seriously.

2010-02-06T03:29:00.011-05:00

It is very easy to listen to what Chris Matthews said about President Barack Obama and cry racist or racial insensitivity. To those people who did so you're being a bit trigger-happy with your racial accusations. Clearly Matthews attempted to give praise to the president, and in the process used some unfortunate words in an uncomfortable fashion (he's on MSNBC for goodness sakes; they do nothing but praise Democrats).

I do not wish to diminish the relative power of the words Matthews spoke. The national conversation regarding race simply has not reached a point where a white person can say "I forgot he (Obama) was black" and expect to get away with it unscathed, no matter the useful purpose of those words. Too many times the media runs with stories concerning the worse stereotypes in people (a white person says a black man is articulate? Racist. A black person is wading through chest-high water with goods tucked under arm? Thief.). Matthews knows this. And if he doesn't know it, he should know it; either way I do not pity him specifically.

But isn't it also true that we black folks have created such a convoluted and meandering maze of what can and cannot be said about us that no one outside of our community can reasonably know what to say? We want outsiders to understand that racism has placed burdens and struggles upon us (which is true), yet we only allow a narrow path toward an acceptable method of praising a black person for overcoming those struggles. Furthermore, we don't let anyone else know how to navigate that narrow path, often times claiming that common sense should ultimately lead one to the promised land of congratulations-sans-offense. But the term "common sense" used in the context of race relations is as oxymoronic (is that a word?) as "compassionate conservative." Common sense doesn't exist in an intellectual space where most folks are not privy to the necessary information.

Jay Smooth once made perfect sense out of the "You Sound Like A Racist/You Are A Racist" conversation. That applies here. Yes, I cringed when Matthews said "I forgot he was black" because he sounded in condescending racism. But maybe black folks ought to open up and begin a dialogue with well-intentioned white folks, one that allows them an opportunity to specifically understand how to praise a black person for overcoming obstacles. This may sound silly (no, it definitely sounds silly), but I do think a simple whisper saying something like "pssst...just say he's the first politician -- black or white -- to transcend race" would suffice in situations like the one Matthews found himself in. Even if that statement isn't true, the sentiment is expressed without fear of pissing anyone off.

Something should be done in this regard if we want to even approach a day when race is both respected and transcended by the general population. It's simply not productive to cry racism (or, as it has been stated to me, "racist tendencies") every time a white person attempts to praise a black person and stumbles over the language.

Still Dreaming?

2010-01-18T05:31:00.004-05:00

The fact that I'm posting MLK's "I Have A Dream" speech on MLK Day is expected (and not very clever). However, this is the first MLK Day with a black President overseeing the nation (still milking Obama firsts. Like I said: I'm not very clever). Whether that fact is in and of itself inspirational is neither here nor there; I am far more interested in how we collectively view this speech in light of our current President.

Has the lens through which we collectively remember/view this MLK speech changed now that our President is black?

Maybe I Shouldn't Be Angry, But I am

2010-01-14T01:17:00.004-05:00

I’m going to get right to the point here; I’m not in a very reflective mood.

When I think of Haiti, what first comes to mind is that it was home to the first black slaves to successfully take a stand against the institution of slavery. We often times laud the likes of Harriet Tubman and Nat Turner, and for good reason – they are among the very few courageous individuals whose actions led to blacks being free and possessing sovereignty over self. But until they recouped their freedom, no one on Earth could remember a time when blacks were free (that is, outside of Sub-Saharan Africa).

Being the first counts for something more in my book. There was no rulebook or other examples available to show how to successfully gain freedom. Given the societal beliefs and norms (of both slaves and slave owners) of that time, the mere idea of slaves being free was the opposite of logical. Because of these reasons, among others, the combination of desperation and determination within those slaves necessary to take such a stand for their freedom was nothing short of amazing.

So for someone to even suggest that Haitians received their freedom through a deal made with the devil (as Pat Robertson has done) is pure and simple a racist attempt to belittle a group of people. Tossing aside the struggles of the Haitian people like last week’s garbage, and replacing them with such a ridiculous dogmatic notion of a deal with the devil incites a level of legitimate anger in me that I rarely reach. A deal with the devil? Really?? THE HAITIANS PAID REPARATIONS FOR THEIR FREEDOM UNTIL 1947! Now what’s the likelihood that Robertson was referring to the French government when he made his “devil” comment? Is there a percentage less than zero??

Furthermore, to belittle these people during their nation’s most tragic moment (an extraordinary truth, given Haiti’s history) takes ole’ Patty Boy’s “devil” comment to an extreme level of hate-filled opportunism. How can a man who claims to be of God use this tragedy to promote a political end AND GET AWAY WITH IT? Yes, Pat Robertson uses his brand of Christian beliefs as a political weapon on a daily basis; the fact that he’s using the deaths of an entire nation of people as his platform is par for his course. My level of disgust is heightened only because he’s using this tragedy as his platform AS THE DEAD BODIES ARE BEING PULLED FROM THE RUBBLE. The mean-spirited nature of such an action makes Don Imus’ “nappy-headed hoes” comment look like a compliment.

As I write this, I get word that Teddy Pendergrass has passed away. Maybe this song applies to everything going on. I don’t know anymore; like I said: I’m angry and stuff like this usually doesn’t get me angry. My Chi is all effed up.

The Tiger Post

2009-12-29T01:58:00.005-05:00

• Tiger Woods. What can I say about you that hasn’t already been said? You cheated on your wife with a porn star. Or maybe you didn’t. And your wife beat you upside your head with one of your golf clubs. Or maybe she used said club to save your life (we KNOW next to nothing!). What we do know is that you were asleep on your lawn. Barefoot. I think it’s important to recognize that there are only a few individuals who know something in the ballpark of the truth, even fewer who know the actual truth, and none of the individuals reading this know anything. Except that Tiger was asleep and snoring on his lawn. Barefoot.

• The shock of Tiger’s dalliances have in fact created a maelstrom of dialog regarding male/female relationships; some quality, some not so much. But I’m still not sure why Tiger has inspired these conversations. He never held himself out as a moral crusader, at least not in the marital sense. Not that he showed himself to be immoral, but it seems clear that morals never figured into his carefully crafted public image. In fact, he never provided the public with any real ideas concerning his personality or urges. Yet folks seem to have understood his stoicism to be a sign that he would never cheat on his wife. But folks ignored the fact that he’s a highly-successful, highly paid athlete just like any other (giving true meaning to the notion that golf is a “gentleman’s sport”). It is quite possible that the only difference between Tiger and Shaun Kemp is that Kemp never had enough sense to wrap it up (I guess I’m assuming that there isn’t a paternity suit against Tiger in the works. I wonder if he assumes the same…).

• I am now thoroughly convinced that what makes an athlete truly great (in that MJ, Tiger, Muhammad Ali, Jim Brown form of greatness) also makes him the opposite of what one should aspire to personally be. None of the “All-Timers” were genuinely good people, and that most definitely includes the individual I hold up as the closest to being a hero: Muhammad Ali.

• One of the few conversations I’m interested in regarding Tiger is why he cheated. Did he cheat because he couldn’t control his sexual urges (I truly do sympathize with that, but shame on him, as he broke a promise. Not a promise to God, but one to another person)? Did he cheat because his specific marriage wasn’t happy (don’t know what to say about that…)? Or (and here’s my fear), is the entire institution of marriage one of misery for those living within it? But as I write this it is becoming clear to me that there’s no way to know what marriage entails until you’re in it, so there’s no real way to know whether marriage is “for you” before you're in one.

• As I read the stories about Tiger, one excuse for him continues to be used: the media scrutiny is greater now than it ever has been, and if Tiger had been the institution that he is back in 1960, the public never even hears about this. I firmly agree with this one. So what? He got caught doing something (again, we don’t know what, other than that he cheated), and the fact that everyone else is doing it does not justify his actions. And please believe: I am not holier than thou in discussing this. I am not sure how I would respond to the amount of… (ahem…action) Tiger received. It was a difficult situation (has a larger understatement ever been written? Women were throwing it at Tiger like he alone possessed the cure to breast cancer, and we all expected him to turn it down? Really? The only mystery here concerns why Tiger chose some of the least attractive women known in the groupie world. As an aside, golf groupies must rank somewhere between professional fishing and bull riding on the groupie scale. You know, if he actually slept with those women who we’ve seen pictures of. Now my head hurts. Let’s just move on). However, to me, “everyone else was doing it” simply doesn’t justify Tiger here, just like that line of argument did not justify Barry Bonds in his performance enhancing drug use.

Black Middle Class-ism; An Ongoing Conversation, Continued...

2009-12-16T23:56:00.003-05:00

I find that the best way to observe a particular social class’s honest view of itself is through the paintings, poetry, and music of its members (“art,” for those of you who get annoyed when people write more than necessary). It’s not always a perfect view, and it’s also true that the view almost always becomes corrupted through notions of profit. However, there are moments when an artist – through a stroke of a paintbrush, or a perfect lyric, or an unforgettable prose – faultlessly captures the very essence of the class with which that artist belongs to.

As black folks, we have expressed our views of self in this manner since we arrived on this land, and our art has followed a general theme of struggle. I cannot quibble with this theme, because our history has generally been one of struggle. However, as the black middle class grows, it is becoming obvious to me that the black middle class is not struggling, at least not to the same extents that our ancestors did, nor to the extent that our economically-challenged brethren currently do. However, the art that currently describes black folks continues to describe us through the lens of a struggle (you know, all of that art that is truly inspired by life, and isn’t solely designed to turn a profit …). So, the art that currently describes us (black folks) doesn’t actually describe us (middle class black folks).

So, as a wise friend of mine succinctly put it, during a discussion regarding middle class black folks: “Your (black middle class folks) life doesn’t inspire art.” And it’s true: I’ve seen nothing artful regarding black people being successful as a matter of right (if you have, please direct me to it). The closest I’ve seen in this regard are images of black success as an oddity, or success despite a struggle based on race.

I’m not sure what this says about the black middle class, but it is clear that we haven’t quite figured out ourselves in this already uncomfortable class conversation. Maybe art will never be a plausible portal through which we express ourselves. Maybe continued success will shine a light on a better way. Maybe…

Black Middle Class-ism; An Ongoing Conversation

2009-11-09T04:30:00.002-05:00

One occurrence within the thorny confines of the American class structure has been the rise of the black middle class. Now to be clear: there are still far more black folks surviving in the dregs of the lower classes than enjoying the fruits of middle class status. However, the black middle class is growing, partly through the sacrifices of individuals during the Civil Rights Movement, partly through the knee jerk de-segregation efforts (read: bussing), partly because old-school (paid) entertainers have new-school (spoiled) children, and partly because some folks made the simple-yet-powerful choice to change their circumstances (all of which came before President Obama. So no, there is no Super Negro here to save us).

(On a side and unrelated note, here’s a collection of Will Smith interviews regarding the choice mentioned above. I’m not usually moved by inspirational words, but Mr. Smith really struck a chord with me. Shout to LaLaBouvier for exposing me to this).

As this group formalizes (I have struggled to accept this, but I recognize myself as a member, begrudgingly so, but so nonetheless), it seems that our ability to understand our class status has grown more difficult. It’s as if we talk around who we are in efforts to avoid accepting both the idea that we belong to a race of largely poor and undereducated people and the idea that we, as an educated and (relatively) upwardly mobile group, have forgotten our roots and “graduated” from the black race (Michael Eric Dyson explores this struggle in his book “Is Bill Cosby Right, Or Has The Black Middle Class Lost its Mind? if you care to read more on the subject. I personally agreed with less than half of his thoughts, but that may have more to do with the fact that he’s attacking The King Pudding Pops, and that’s just wrong. But I digress…).

I guess the thinking continues through a view that it is easy for poor black folks to understand their place in this conversation because the ideas of being poor and being black are a perfect match (like peanut butter and jelly, or Kool-Aid and sugar, or Michael Jordan and 18 year old girls…whatever floats your boat). But this leaves us with the question: what is a black person who isn’t poor? What class grouping are we to be herded into? Is there a defined class structure above the lowest class of poor peoples? (this conversation is both uncomfortable and difficult because it seems to require a consideration of people extremely close to me as belonging to a class lower than me. I don’t know the truth value of that, nor do I know what to do with that if it is in fact true…).

So long as this general race/class conversation centers on the double conscious notion of what others think of middle class blacks, we will continue to struggle to figure out who we are as a group (and for this reason I question what I am doing here hosting this conversation: am I continuing the negative attributes of double consciousness simply by attempting to figure out my social self?). This is a problem I hope to work through, because right now I do not have an answer…

TRA-GE-DY

2009-10-18T22:20:00.002-04:00

I'm disturbed.

Life Imitating Art, I guess...

He's Neither MLK Nor Arafat/Peres

2009-10-15T13:28:00.002-04:00

For every Martin Luther King Jr., who expressly created grand change toward peace, there’s a President Woodrow Wilson. While President Wilson did lay the framework for the League of Nations by the time he won the award, the League was not a functioning body at that time. In fact, it failed about as fast as it came into existence. Wilson, for all of his efforts, was not even able to get the US to join the League. Sure, it can be said that the United Nations arose from the ashes of the League, but I struggle to find a proper way to give President Wilson credit for that. That would be like giving credit for discovering penicillin to the person who left a cheese sandwich out overnight (that cheese sandwich story isn’t even true, but the fable fits so well here that I feel comfortable admitting to an untruth for purposes of highlighting a point. I digress…).

Additionally, it is difficult at best to fit Al Gore’s work on climate change under the umbrella of “peace.” Sure, I can make the argument (the gift and curse of law school is that I can make a logical argument for practically anything), but to do so is a fundamental stretch for sure. Furthermore, I’m not sure how Yasser Arafat and Shimon Peres can be awarded anything regarding the word “peace.”

My point is that President Obama is not the first winner of the Nobel Peace Prize who’s actions have left something to be desired, and he surely won’t be the last. If his victory is in fact the direct result of an end to former President Bush’s failed foreign policies and diplomatic non-actions (if there are tea leaves here, my reading of them suggests that such an act occurred), I’m fine with that. Reasonable minds may differ.

And not to be esoteric, but the politics involved in awarding the Nobel Peace Prize places an understanding of whether President Obama “deserves” the award in the realm of ultimate subjectivity. The only objective statement that can be made at this point is that President Obama is admired and respected more by folks in other nations than in his own (shout out to the Birthers). That fact may explain the controversy in its entirety, or at least much of it.

So I Guess This Means I'm Back...

2009-10-15T03:48:00.006-04:00

It’s been a while since the last time I wrote anything here (we elected a black President and Michael Jackson passed away, just to name a couple slightly significant events that have transpired since my last entry). One reason has been school and work. However, I’ve managed to do enough outside of those endeavors to make that excuse practically irrelevant.

Another reason is that, in this Twitter Age (Thank You! I coined the phrase myself…), I wonder whether anyone is interested in reading more than 140 characters at a time. Do folks have a long-enough attention span to read a whole blog entry anymore? I guess I’ll find out…

A third reason concerns what J-Smooth calls “The Little Hater.” Sometimes I just don’t think what I have to say (or write) is important enough to put out there in the ethers. Other times it seems as though everything that could possibly be said or written on a subject has already been said or written. So why am I chiming in with my opinion on the matter? (I sense that I will continue to struggle with my personal Little Hater. To be continued…).

But all of the above is tangential to what I’ve discovered to be the real reason I stopped writing, and that reason goes a little something like this (Hit It!): the more I wrote, I found myself thinking I was actually working toward solving whatever controversy I was writing about (as if my explanation of what “Greatest Rapper Of All Time” really means would actually cease inane notions that Mos Def is…mos’ def’ in the top 3. Silly me…).

Now, it’s not beyond my personal parameters to possess an inflated view of the weight my opinion holds (what can I say; I get it from my Mamma…and Daddy). However, without realizing it, I became severely frustrated that my words didn’t change anything. Black folks still overreact when a racist old white guy drops the N-Bomb (or rather, unnecessarily react), The Duke lacrosse players never got a proper apology from the likes of Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, and Soulja Boy still has an effin’ career (the last wound cuts the deepest…). Keeping this frustration in check will be an additional challenge for me.

So now that see why I stopped writing, the reason why I want to continue writing became clear and is shockingly simple (at least to me): I miss writing. I miss expressing myself in this format. I miss the therapy that writing offers me. I feel more comfortable doing this than verbally illustrating my point of view.

So, in the proverbial words of Brett Favre (again!) and a posthumous Michael Jackson: I’m back (it’s either ironic or the basis of a bad horror movie to claim that a dead MJ is claiming he’s back, even proverbially…).

"I Arrive on Time, I'm Never Fashionable"

2009-06-27T14:17:00.001-04:00

The advent of communication technology has drastically, and negatively, altered the manner in which we socially interact.

Truth be told, there is a way for us to be digitally connected without losing, what I believe to be, the importance of social interaction. Unfortunately, we haven't reached the place where we are able to do so.

There's a great deal of information that is available today in ways that were simply impossible 20 years ago. The upside is that mankind has proven to be incredibly productive. Sadly, this productivity has come at the expense of regressing social traditions and common courtesy.

Think, for a second, about how natural the phrase "running late" has become. I can't even front, because I myself have pulled this card on a number of occasions in the past. The problem lies in trying to be at too many places at once; trying to accomplish more than possible in 24 hours.

Communicating on blackberries or texting on phones at dinner and/or clubs (a pet peeve of mine) make it impossible to live in the moment. I've always contended that cell phones killed the party scene in college. Prior to cell phones every party had potential. After cell phones, if a party was bad and that information became available through the wire, it was a straight wrap. Mull that one over if you happened to be in the purple bubble circa 2002.

We risk losing, in the hustle and bustle of trying to be more productive, our sense of respect for one another, which I would argue is important in a world where human interaction is becoming increasingly unnecessary.

The game plan this summer and beyond is put the phone away and arrive on time, never fashionably late. For the sake of maintaining the sanctity of humanity, I encourage you to do the same.

Eulogy for the King of Pop

2009-06-26T08:54:00.004-04:00

It is important for me to say a few words by way of praise, about Michael Jackson, a shining star whose brilliance can never be extinguished.

I was in a meeting last night when someone interrupted us to announce his death. Admittedly, I was incredulous. When the reality of the truth set in, I was overcome with an immense sadness. I thought of the millions of people, who like me, loved this man. Although I was in this small meeting, outside there was a collective experience of people coming to grips with this death; and knowing that I was a part of that amplified the sense of loss.

As a former DJ, I can tell you that one of my bread and butter tracks was Billy Jean. People went crazy for that track, or any Michael track for that matter. I don't know of many songs that have that type of universal appeal 20+ years after their release. Michael's autobiography indicates that he wanted to have a big family. I believe he accomplished this by giving birth to so many classic songs that have managed to forever capture his energy and life.

Perhaps one of the most intriguing personalities of our generation, Michael embodied cool and yet managed to have such a great love for his fans.

I leave you with some lyrics that capture my own sense of loss quite accurately:

Got some bad news this morning
Which in turn made my day
When this someone spoke I listened
All of a sudden has less and less to say
Oh how could this be
All this time I've lived vicariously
Who's gonna save my soul now
Who's gonna save my soul now
How will my story ever be told now
How will my story be told now

Made me feel like somebody
Like somebody else
Although he was imitated often
It felt like I was being myself
Is it a shame that someone else's song
Was totally and completely depended on
Who's gonna save my soul now?
Who's gonna save my soul now?
I wonder if I'll live to grow old now
Getting high cause I feel so low down
And maybe it's a little selfish
All I have is the memory
Yet I never stopped to wonder
Was it possible you were hurtin' worse than me
Still my hunger turns to greed
Cause what about what I need
Who's gonna save my soul now
Who's gonna save my soul now
How will my story ever be told now
How will my story be told now

Weighing in on Mark Sanford

2009-06-25T08:32:00.001-04:00

In light of the disclosure of Governor Mark Sanford's personal e-mails and a press conference in which he asked for forgiveness from his family and constituents, I am compelled to write about the falsehood that a married and religious person makes a good politician.

For starters, and in the interest of full disclosure, save for men before the Clinton scandal, I always feel a sense of sympathy for men of authority who have fallen to temptations of the flesh in this day and age. It is the mythical and tragic fall from grace that both astonishes and saddens me. The hero, or for our purposes, the politician, has it all and yet seems to do the most unimaginable thing. What's worse, his sins are paraded for the entire world to see and condemned on the late night news cycle; his accomplishments forever overshadowed by a scandal that, we are lead to believe, is of epic proportions.

I wonder a great deal aloud and in the company of good friends about the institution of marriage. Though I firmly believe that there is no better arrangement that facilitates the effective rearing of a child and structuring of society, I find marriage to be a terrible standard by which to measure an individual. And that's what in fact it has become. Perhaps I am still too youthful to fully comprehend it, but I believe it to be a social game of sorts. God forbid you find yourself not playing, i.e. unmarried, the implication is that there is something wrong with you.

The same is the case for religion. "Saturday sinners at the feet of the father" Sunday morning give us a sense of comfort and trust that is, ultimately, unwarranted.

In the end it is the impossible expectations that we assign to individuals, and that those individuals in turn assume and fail to fulfill, that makes this fall from grace so utterly sad. Cynicism abounds and we become skeptical of the trustworthiness of men or politicians when we really should really be looking at whether our expectations were based on faulty standards of ethics and morality from the get. Indeed, when all is said and done, the truth is that we may have, in fact, duped ourselves.

Are Hip-Hop and Republicans Mutually Exclusive?

2009-06-24T08:46:00.001-04:00

The notion that one can be, at once, Hip-Hop and Republican is laughable and contradictory.

"Voted for Barack/McCain was my tax bracket"
Why one half of the Clipse would vote against their economic interest is a question worth exploring. Granted, Obama is young and black and I won't for a second deny that this had a overwhelming effect on his ability to galvanize the Hip-Hop vote.

But there are more and more Hip-Hop heads, like the Clipse, leaving a tax bracket traditionally synonymous with Hip-Hop culture, i.e. the poor. Yet, the majority of them have voted for a Democratic president in the most recent election. I am lead to believe that save for the cry for lower taxes and the adherence to the "Up From Slavery" mentality, most true Hip-Hop heads don't ascribe to the conservative ideologies of the Republican party.

I wonder how Hip-Hop Republicans feel about graffiti art, a component of Hip-Hop that many bureaucrats seem to oppose. Hip-Hop has always been anti-establishment, revolutionary, and liberal whereas Repubicans tend to be conservative and uncompromisingly indifferent to the plight of the poor and the existence of institutionalized racism.

I wonder about whether Hip-Hop Republicans feel that Hip-Hop artists should have the freedom of speech to express what they experience (or in some cases don't experience). Again, political parties as a whole, not just Republicans, seem to be overwhelmingly opposed to most of this. Hip-Hop, it would seem, is antithetical to politics.

I'm all for the complexity of different cultures but there are underlying traditional values that are intrinsic to both the Hip-Hop and Republican cultures. Those traditions are mutually exclusive.

Broccoli Mics and Blood Clots

2009-06-23T08:38:00.004-04:00

The video for Who's Gonna Save My Soul is truly a remarkable concept.

Kudos to Gnarls Barkley for providing the screenwriter with the artistic freedom to interpret the lyrics (if that is, in fact, what happened). How a song inspired by the death of the Godfather of Soul, James Brown, has added meaning as an ode about unrequited love is a testament to the poetry of musical lyrics.

The original meaning of the lyrics aside, I was entertained by the candid perspective of the breakup. The dialogue was as real as it gets, but more importantly, unconventionally bearable. By that I mean, you didn't feel bad for the guy being dumped (which is typically not the case) because he didn't exhibit the typical emotions of anger or despondence.

I was certainly caught off-guard by the singing heart with the broccoli microphone and clotting blood trail, but I imagine that's to be expected from a group as eclectic as Gnarls Barkley. All in all, a really amazing video for an even more amazing song.

I encourage you to cop the Odd Couple album if you haven't already.

"I'm Back Before You Had a Chance to Miss Me"

2009-06-22T05:45:00.004-04:00

There are several factors that have contributed to the dearth of writing on our blog that I will articulate below.

I should say from the outset that I speak only for myself; I do, however, firmly believe that my brothers will agree with at least some of the reasons for not posting.

First, the insights we may have once made available to the public are now confined to an internal thread. Yet even on these internal threads our commentary is few and far between. I can only speak for myself, but I have reason to believe that while the articles are always interesting, my own comments don't always add substance. So rather than say something pointless, I don't say anything at all. This is quite ironic given the next reason.

Second, the time and thought it takes to put together a post does not have a significant pay-off. In the past we used to have 5-15 responses to a post of substantial length. As our readership has dwindled, so too have the comments and the incentive to post. One could argue that the love of writing alone should be incentive enough, but that's simply unrealistic. Which brings me to my next reason...

Third, we have lives that have become ever more demanding on our leisure time. Most bloggers with successful blogs are either doing it for a living or doing it at work on someone else's dollar. We don't have that luxury and/or audacity, respectively.

Fourth, I think our posts were too lengthy. A good rule of thumb is that if it isn't going into print, you shouldn't have to click a next page link.

Finally, I think our substance was lacking. In a world with low attention spans and accessible information at our finger tips, the allure of pictures and you-tube videos has made journalism increasing difficult. Now, I don't pretend for a second that we are journalist, but the fact of the matter is that at a certain point we did a lot less writing and a lot more posting.

Finally

2009-05-11T21:29:00.002-04:00

Can't tell you how long I've been waiting for this...

Kid Daytona

2009-05-04T19:45:00.004-04:00

There's been a lot of hype recently about Drizzy Drake from Toronto. I recently copped his So Far Gone mixtape and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the album and the diversity of the tracks. His style has been juxtaposed, perhaps in an attempt to qualify his style, with that of Kid Cudi. The incorporation of singing with rapping in both of these artist styles is a new phenomenon, or better yet an old phenomenon newly adopted. I would venture to say that Cee-Lo rather than Kanye is responsible for pioneering this in hip-hop, but that's an entirely different post for another time.

I wanted to put everyone on to my homeboy the Kid Daytona. What's wild is that he's had the name Daytona for a minute now. We went to high school together and I'm gripped by nostalgia when I recall the freestyle cyphers that happened during our last period Government class senior year. On two or more occasions I joined the cypher and dropped the poorest verses conceivable. Daytona would just shake his head and laugh at these futile yet entertaining attempts.

Some time last year I ran into Daytona at a club in the meatpacking district. I told him about the fact that we here at PGM had interviewed Kidz in the Hall. I told him I wanted to write something on him as well and we agreed to set some time aside to do that. Long story short, I lost his math. I'm elated to see that he's still doing this thing, however, and putting out good music.

I started off this post talking about Drake because he was one of the new artist that XXL left off its freshmen list. Daytona is, arguably, another one. So with that said, I'll put you on to one of the tracks he did that caught my ear. It was produced by Double O and received mention on Nah Right. Enjoy and look out for an exclusive interview sometime in the near future.

The Kid Daytona - The Engine (Prod. by Double-0)

I Stay Coogi Down to the Socks!

2009-04-01T14:36:00.002-04:00

"Barring All Upsets"

2009-03-27T12:11:00.002-04:00

Each year, for the past five years, my bracket has tasted glory only to masticate defeat by the time the elite eight rolled around. So this year I decided to incorporate some science into my decision making.

I caught an interview on CNN with a Georgia Tech engineer who, with the assistance of other engineers, came up with a algorithm called Logistic Regression Markov Chain (LRMC). The algorithm was supposed to take several factors into account such as scoreboard data and home court advantage. But don't waste your time googling it, because it does not work.

"Barring all upsets," this GT engineer stated, Memphis, Louisville, Pitt, and NC will make it to the Final Four with NC becoming National Champions. I should have thought about that statement when he made it. What sense is an algorithm if you can't incorporate the one factor that makes this time of the year utter madness? Upsets are compulsory.

Suffice it to say, after Memphis' loss at the hands of Mizzou last night, I am no longer in the running for that lump sum payout. For the record, Marquette should have beat Missouri last week. (How you get called for a line violation with 5.5 seconds left in the game is beyond me).

What's In Your Hand

2008-12-22T08:00:00.000-05:00

I've been looking for this video for a minute now. Finally found it.

"I'm Looking Forward to You Advising Me As Well"

2008-11-21T18:31:00.004-05:00

November 21, 2008, 2:35 pm

Clinton Is Said to Opt for Secretary of State Position

By Peter Baker

Hillary Rodham Clinton has decided to give up her Senate seat and accept the position of secretary of state, making her the public face around the world for the administration of the man who beat her for the Democratic presidential nomination, two confidants said Friday.

Click here for more..

Barackin' On You

2008-11-05T20:06:00.002-05:00

A Forgotten Classic

2008-10-26T09:42:00.000-04:00

Which Season 4 Wire Character Were You?

2008-10-24T15:11:00.001-04:00

By now, most of you should know of my love for HBO's The Wire. I was put on, in the Jeezian sense, one fine evening many years ago at our alma mater. It was Brother Lightness' significant other who suggested I watch the show, but it wasn't until I moved to New York City that I heeded her advice.

I've never been one to set aside time to watch TV, but that all but changed once I started watching The Wire. The Wire captured the street in a compelling, artistic, and unprecedented way. Never had I seen such convincing and complex characters. From the drug dealers to the crackheads to the detectives, the show did justice to life in the streets as many of us know it.

One of the best seasons of the show was Season 4, which dealt with the public school system and the potential it has for curbing drugs and violence in Baltimore. The first scene in this season set the tone for what was to come.

Among other things, revisiting this scene got me revisiting my childhood and wondering which kid I was in the group. For starters, I would have taken the $200 which rules out being Michael. Moreover, even if I had rejected the money, I didn't have it in me at age 13 to stand up to someone like Marlo.

I wasn't Namond, living in the shadow of a renowned dealer and trying to live up to everyone's expectations. I wasn't Randy, schemin' and making pocket money by selling candy to his classmates. And although, I might have had a filthy mouth as a youngin', I was certainly no Kenard.

If I had to put money on it, and if you asked any of my elementary school friends, I was probably closest to Dukie. Thankfully, I didn't have it bad at home. Consequently, I figured out how to "get from here to the rest of the world."

Enough about me though. Which season 4 character were you?

(Left to right: Michael, Namond, Dukie, Randy, and Kenard)

This Is Cute...

2008-10-24T02:35:00.000-04:00

Yea, I said it. And what!?!?

The Mandingo Effect?

2008-10-18T00:20:00.003-04:00

Barack Obama currently leads John McCain among white female voters 55%-38%.

-Time Magazine, 10/1/08

Sen. McCain At His Best: Alfred E. Smith Memorial Dinner

2008-10-17T07:47:00.001-04:00

Where was this side of John McCain during the campaign?

CNN Is Discussing The "Bradley Effect"...

2008-10-17T01:30:00.004-04:00

Therefore, I need more happy music to take my mind off of the election (yes, music is my narcotic).

236.com: McCain's Fear of Palin Presidency Caught on Tape (Listen)

2008-10-15T07:27:00.000-04:00

My Top Five Entertaining Political Commentators

2008-10-10T13:00:00.006-04:00

5. Sean Hannity

I've never seen a political commentator get owned on a more consistent basis.

4. The Cast of the View

Not quite a one person show, this diverse cast of women is the simply the best daytime show for political entertainment. The combination of Barbara Walters, Whoopi Goldberg, Joy Behar, Sherri Shepherd, and Elizabeth Hasselbeck makes for great television. And when politics rears it's ugly head you can tell these ladies want to whip out the vaseline and start removing earrings.

It doesn't hurt that I have a Claire Huxtable-esque crush on Whoopi Goldberg either.

3. Chris Matthews

Slight lisp and resilient in his attempt to get his guests to answer his questions. I would love to see him moderate a Presidential debate.

2. Bill Maher

Some of you might be wondering why Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert aren't on this list. We'll oddly enough, I don't find them all that entertaining. All signs point to comedic genius and innovation, but their brand of over the top comedy just doesn't sit well with me.

Bill Maher, in my humble opinion, is a master of political comedy. He has succeeded in furthering the legacy of a Mark Twain brand of comedy, which I believe is the kind of comedy humanity needs. But I'll spare the philosophical rant for another post.

The bottom line is that Bill Maher creates the perfect balance reporting the news responsibly while entertaining his audience while highlighting the comedy that is our reality.

I respect his gangster.

1. Bill O'Reilly

So many clips to choose from. The interview with Cam'ron and Dame Dash, the interview with Phil Donohue, and the interview with Geraldo Rivera all immediately come to mind. His most recent tirade will be sufficient, however.

Need I say more?

Election ‘08

2008-10-09T15:44:00.004-04:00

A great deal has happened since we here at Browneph endorsed Senator Barack Obama. It’s about time I revisit the race to the White House and talk a little bit about what is happening.

I, for one, hate talking politics, particularly when the political race becomes infused with charges of racism. Discussing politics this election season has become akin to discussing hip-hop music, a genre I’m getting too wise to enjoy in public let alone discuss in the company of people I don’t know intimately. And arguing for one candidate over another is like arguing for the primacy of one religion over another. In the end, you win few converts unless your tactics are baseless or are based on unverifiable but logically sound claims of the superiority of your religion.

So for the moment, let’s set aside the guilt by association tactics of late. Let us briefly table the heartbeat away from the presidency allusions and talk a little bit about something I think no one seems to be discussing; how did Gov. Sarah Palin manage to suck the momentum out of the McCain ticket?

Gov. Palin seemed, to me, to be one an intelligent vice presidential selection for Sen. McCain. She was fresh and this new appeal managed to galvanize the Republican base in a way that ensured this would be a strongly contested race. All she had to do was appear in control and embrace her “I’m a Washington outsider” appeal.

Imagine, if you can, a Charles Gibson and Katie Couric interview that wasn’t disastrous. Those interviews were so devastating for the McCain campaign that right leaning political pundits were scrambling to conceive of a favorable context to put it in. It was a field day (or week) for left leaning pundits, some of whom took the interviews as comedic and others who were furious with it’s implications. Among the latter was CNN’s Jack Cafferty who called Gov. Palin's performance “pathetic.”

The Vice Presidential debate could have provided the Democratic ticket the opportunity to put the nail in the coffin, but a different Sarah Palin showed up; the Sarah Palin who we saw was, for better or worse, the Governor we should have been introduced to from the very beginning.

I’m of the opinion that the economic crisis added fuel to the Palin-sparked campaign fire that Sen. McCain was desperately trying to put out. Had it not been for the Himalayan blunder of Gov. Palin’s interviews, Sen. McCain might have had a good foot to stand on when the economy took a turn for the worse.

It will certainly be interesting to see if his campaign can manage an October rally before it's too late.

Remember When The Keytar Was Cool?

2008-10-08T16:28:00.000-04:00

Hurts Like Brand New Shoes

2008-10-08T15:06:00.002-04:00

Brand new shoes don’t immediately come to mind when one reflects upon the plight of a Somali woman. And yet, it seems to make sense to me in Sade’s Pearls.

I recently wrote to a number of my friends that there exists no frame of reference, no analogous experience by which to compare the reality of the Congo. The very essence of that difficulty seems to be captured in Sade’s song. Of all the heartbreaking adversities she could have chosen by way of comparability, she chose to analogize the pain of a Somali woman to that of brand-new shoes.

This analogy is both revealing and uncanny in its humor. Whatever her intent, I do not believe that the closest most individuals will ever come to understanding the life of someone in Africa is the pain of brand new shoes. And while other universal experiences of more comparable (or even greater) degrees of pain exist, I do not believe that any such comparison can be made without seeming facetious and/or foolish.

Drawing comparisons is a common and natural human predisposition. It makes it that much easier to articulate emotions and establish connections with whomever one happens to be sharing their experience. But my experience in Lubumbashi opened my eyes to a world that I could not have prepared myself to adapt to prior to my departure.

By this world, I don’t speak of a world of poverty and the absence of infrastructure. These aspects of the Congo were shocking to me but in many ways, I had prepared myself to encounter them. What I wasn’t prepared for were the effects of not having a companion with whom I could share the experiences. And so I found myself struggling to acclimate in an environment where I felt the psychological toll of dogmatism and the manner in which it impeded progress; where corruption seemed to permeate every level of economic and even social interaction; where the hypocrisy of government and big business could be seen in plain view; and where the belief in witchcraft lead people to do irrational and evil things.

And it isn’t enough to simply visit the Congo to empathize with what I have written. Experiencing these things requires immersion into the culture, which in turn requires one to speak sparingly and listen attentively even when fundamental disagreement inclines you to do otherwise.

So you might be able to understand the mental gymnastics that I undergo when I try to respond to someone’s question about what the Congo was like. It’s not so much that it is difficult to describe what I experienced, but that describing the complexity of the trip requires me to contextualize it by describing my own story. And the breadth of an endeavor of this capacity has frustrated me to the point of reticence.

I can write a blog post about everything from the deteriorated roads, the man-made bridges, to the chronic power outages. And though these may appear to be an appropriate point of reference from which to begin writing about my experience, to me they seem to provide more entertainment than substance. And therein lies the rub because I simply can’t bring myself to entertain my friends with tales of what I witnessed when I believe my efforts can be directed at more productive measures to ameliorate the conditions I saw in the Congo.

In a sense, it calls for a responsible approach. There will come a time, however, when I will have to relinquish my desire to place this experience in a perfect frame of reference; one which gives justice to all the beauty and ugliness, the comedy and tragedy, the possibilities and the futilities. But until then, I’ll keep rewriting and re-editing so that when people finally do read it, it won’t have to hurt like brand-new shoes.

You Registered?

2008-10-06T13:33:00.002-04:00

I'm Feelin' This One

2008-10-04T13:03:00.001-04:00

The Lil O'Reilly Factor

2008-10-03T17:47:00.002-04:00

In case you don't get the "We'll do it live!" outburst towards the end, here's the reference.

Spotless' Hits Of Yesterday And Today Rolls On...

2008-10-02T05:32:00.001-04:00

What If Obama Loses?

2008-10-02T05:18:00.004-04:00

The Polls show that Senator Obama has a 5 point national lead over Senator McCain.

The "Swing State" Polls show that Obama has a smaller, but still significant lead over McCain there.

Republican leadership has eroded the nation's standing, thus diluting our once powerful voice on all global matters.

The current international economic crisis we find ourselves in (well, "we" is a relative term, as taxpayers simply bought houses. Regulatory policies led to the crisis, but I digress…) logically leads to a conclusion that Obama is a better Presidential choice than McCain.

The Democrat should win. But the Democrat running is a black man (no shit, Sherlock). So for the first time in presidential politics, this little thing called the “Bradley Effect” is in play, which could prove all of the fundamentals meaningless.

I'll leave the racial realities of this alone, as they are the cause of my headaches (see my previous post, and the subsequent need to drown out the noise and enjoy Busta Rhymes turn his hat inside out on the Arsenio Hall Show). What I am interested in is what Obama has already accomplished.

You see, Obama tricked America, and in doing so may have created a movement bigger than the presidency. Everyone figured his "Change" message centered on race. It was an easy-enough assumption to make, but that is genius of it all.

“Change” actually represents a different way of governance, one where the smartest person in the room is actually its leader. A restoration of the proud standing our nation once enjoyed in all foreign affairs. “Change” is a return to a time before the Bush Administration defaulted on proverbial payments and screwed up our international credit.

After holding a conversation with a former colleague of mine (a liberal white male in his late-50’s, in case that’s important to you), I realize that the “Change Movement” means something different to an older generation. When we worked together, he often spoke of the revolutionary conversations that took place in smoke-filled coffee houses during the 1960’s. He pined (eloquently, I must say) on the limitless feeling one had concerning the possibilities of revolution and what this nation could become back then. He has lamented that in the days, months, years, and decades since, the limits on possibilities have become ever-pronounced.

Senator Obama has done for him what no individual has done since the death of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr: he has brought back that revolutionary mood and the limitless possibilities on what this nation can be. While one cannot speak of revolution and remain politically viable, Obama cleverly dressed his revolutionary message in the clothing of “Change” (dapper garb; both sophisticated and simple in appearance).

So the question bouncing around the minds of many folks (black folks, white folks, Europeans, Asians, as well as a few intelligent dolphins) concerns what happens if Senator Obama loses.

Clearly, the method of governance championed by the Bush Administration will continue under a McCain Administration. But will the revolutionary undercurrent that has swept up folks who do not look like me (but many times think like me) discontinue as well? Or, does real revolution (err…change) actually exist here, thus possessing the ability to continue without status quo leadership?

Following The News Is Currently Making My Head Hurt...

2008-09-30T06:05:00.004-04:00

So I have tuned out the CNNs and MSNBCs of the world and tuned in to the tunes that have made me happy over the years.

Spotless' hits from yesterday and today are in play.

Miracle at St. Anna

2008-09-26T10:54:00.001-04:00

Vote for the Annoying, Smart Guy

2008-09-24T09:54:00.001-04:00

Black Women Walking

2008-09-23T15:36:00.005-04:00

Not Dazed but Confused

2008-09-15T22:43:00.007-04:00

Though this has been my first post in this blog I have always had ideas and topics to talk on and bring to the attention of the whole but have never has the time to sit down and get it done. It has since come to my attention that if I don't make my time now, I never will, so here's to the first post of many to come. Now on to the topic at hand.

I came across a video online (hyperlinked here, posted below) and at first I saw it and chuckled a bit. Okay, to be perfectly honest, I laughed my butt off and started to send to it to some friends. After watching it about five more times I had to stop and think. What are the updated stereotypes of the educated black man? In my opinion, we are less openly feared than than ever (at least physically) perhaps due to the upper level education more of us are finding. There has become a larger chasm between the "big, scary, black man" and "the educated, black guy (who happens to be big)" Am I mistaken in this thought? I thought to myself: Are there different expectations/stereotypes/visions of what different types of black men there are?

Now, perhaps it's because I'm a nice guy (more often than not) but I don't think I've ever felt that way entering an elevator. (I can be naieve from time to time though as well). Now I know simply because I've never felt that way doesn't mean others haven't, but that got me thinking about what "others (read non-black people) think of us. Naturally, I turned to what seems to be white America's black indicator: "Hip-Hop" (Read Hip-Pop) music. Some of the most catchy songs in this genre today belong to Lil' Wayne, T-Pain, and oddly enough, an European-bred songwriter of Sri Lankan descent M.I.A. Now this is what kind of bugs me. Yes, music today is simply that music, but when a Sri Lankan girl makes a song like this, that tops charts both in the U.S. and abroad, and it's classified as "Hip-Hop" (you know, black people music that automatically makes little Jess and Jim a bit cooler because they listen to it too and know the lyrics) it hurts us. I thought that maybe it was simply farcical; that the chorus wasn't exactly what the song was about, but unfortunately, after looking at the lyrics I didn't get any relief. Check it:

[x2]
I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait

[x2]
Sometimes I feel sitting on trains
Every stop I get to I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner now we're making that fame
Bonafide hustler making my name

[x4]
All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

[x2]
Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bombs
Running when we hit 'em
Lethal poison through their system

[x2]
No one on the corner has swagger like us
Hit me on my Burner prepaid wireless
We pack and deliver like UPS trucks
Already going hell just pumping that gas

[x4]
All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

M.I.A.
Third world democracy
Yeah, I got more records than the K.G.B.
So, uh, no funny business

Some some some I some I murder
Some I some I let go
Some some some I some I murder
Some I some I let go

There is actually a freestyle to this beat by a rapper named Esso, in it he comments "This what they think about us. They think this is all we know how to do." throughout different choruses. Of course this version of the song will be heard by far fewer people.

But back to my original point. Is it fair that there are stereotypes within stereotypes for black people, particularly black men? Yes , I know white people have it too but it isn't to the same extent. I don't know if I should be speaking in heavy slang, sagging my jeans, wearing designer sunglasses indoors, wearing regular sized polos, speaking very properly, freestyling, writing slam poetry, speaking on the travesties of the Black diaspora, uplifting my community, or all of the above? (My answer for now is all of the above). Should I even care what other think of me as a black man, or should I worry what they think think of me as a person? (For now mostly the person part.) Should I be bringing this up in conversation with my black friends? My white friends? All of my friends? Strangers? I guess like the announcer in the Tootsie Pop commercials told us, "the world, may never know".

Random Campaign Thoughts...

2008-07-29T10:04:00.007-04:00

A lot has been going through my mind concerning the campaign, but I haven’t had any significant time to properly comprehend these thoughts. So please allow me to relieve some mental pressure, all the while stealing profootball.com’s patented “one-liners” format (well, they can’t patent a blog format…can they?). Actually, these will be more than one-liners:

I am beginning to question the method behind the Clintonite madness. Many of these women vow not to vote for Obama because of the sexism that occurred during the Democratic Primary. I do understand this sentiment, as Obama committed some acts (i.e. patting Michele on her derriere in public) and used some terminology (calling a woman “sweetie”) that was at least subtly sexist. Had Clinton mentioned subtle race put-downs (which she did), black folks would have gone into attack mode themselves (which they did).

However, when these same women went on Fox News and stated their intentions to vote for McCain, my brain got to running in circles, thinking about whether they would have ever voted for Obama. The “Clinton” name has represented the Democratic Party for fifteen years, and it follows that those supporters would be staunch Democrats. And now they switch party allegiances? Was the sexism really strong enough to fundamentally change voter perception, and thus create such a shocking migration? Or, is something else working here to halt Obama’s march to the White House?

To this “Clintonite” point, there is a historical reference that may add value to the conversation. Toward the end of America’s slave era, women teamed up with slaves and abolitionists in a coordinated effort to allow voting rights for all adults. Long story short, slaves got the right to vote while white women did not. In fact, women did not receive such rights for another fifty or so years (Women’s Suffrage, 19th Amendment: circa 1920). This pissed white women off (understandably, if not rightly, so. Women had other rights, but to be socially leap-frogged must have felt like a cruel punch to the gut…).

I am not defending today’s Clintonite’s actions (since I am almost positive most of them have not made the connection I just made), but I am pointing out what may be a natural rivalry (as far as natural rivalries exist between the complex combinations of race and a gender that are present here), possibly masterminded by white men (when in doubt, we can still blame white men. But don’t be surprised if that comfort ends sooner rather than later…).

It’s that time of the campaign year when mounting speculation concerning a candidate’s vice presidential choice creates mass hysteria (for reasons unbeknownst to me until I realized how far Dick Cheney has gone to expand VP powers). In most campaigns, a VP is chosen for his/her ability to generally complete the principle’s image (if the principle lacks foreign policy experience, get a war vet. Principle is not Christian enough, you say? Grab an evangelical. And so on…).

Given that Obama’s policy weakness resides in foreign affairs (and his social weakness resides in his skin color/gender combination), he needs someone with a strong reputation in that area. I think former Senator Sam Nunn fits well here, given his stewardship on the US Senate’s Armed Service Committee (additionally, he provides Obama the added bonus of being popular in a southern state, a place where Obama needs success if he is to win the presidency.).

McCain seems to have more weaknesses. He’s not evangelical enough for the evangelicals. His willingness to buck the GOP status quo (which quietly made him popular in some Democratic circles before this election season began) has the old guard of the party a bit wary of him. He’s an old candidate campaigning during an election that has produced a massive rise in youth participation. For all of these reasons, I have no idea how McCain completes his image. Thoughts?

A Public Service Announcement From Jay Smooth

2008-07-21T21:14:00.001-04:00

Sigh...

2008-07-20T21:45:00.001-04:00

My sister called me today to inform me that she saw a familiar face on a local street corner. That face belonged to a former Pop Warner football coach of mine. She continued to explain the various examples of his clear addiction to crack. This morbid news significantly dimmed the mood of what had been a very good weekend (considering that I had just watched The Dark Knight, quite possibly the best summer movie of all time).

This former coach introduced me to organized football when I was 10. At that time I was a scared, shy kid who was reluctant to tackle or do anything that involved contact. By the time he was finished with me, he famously (and publicly) stated “...all he’s scared of now is his momma!” (He was only half correct; spiders continue to creep me out. But I digress…).

For those who are foreign to the “hood,” you must understand that positive images of strong black men seen on a day to day basis are few and far between. Sometimes it is the fault of the black men themselves, as Barack Obama recently pointed out. Sometimes it is the fault of the media, both in news reporting and images on sit-coms. Sometimes folks simply have bad luck. But when all of those “sometimes” are combined, you come to the conclusion that black men like my coach (well, what he used to be anyway) are sparse.

So I hope that the distress I feel relating to the news that my coach is now a crackhead is understandable. This man introduced me to a sport that not only provided me with great joy and satisfaction, but also opened academic opportunities to me that may not have been available otherwise.

Additionally, he was one of the few individuals who taught me what being a man really meant (understand that I had a father who was there for me in every way. However, while coach was not my primary example of “black manhood,” he definitely was an influential secondary source). Coach gave me confidence in an arena where “men are men,” so to speak; my young mind did not think that was possible beforehand.

And now that this former representative of manhood ceases to be, I am suddenly (and surprisingly) at a loss for at least a segment of my image of manhood in totality. That leaves me saddened, and a little confused.

I cannot judge my coach for his choices, because I do not know his surrounding circumstances. I can say that I am disappointed, not in the actual man, but in the image that the actual man disposed of and replaced.

My only solace is in the fact that I did not see him myself.

Jesse Helms And The Fear He Didn't Strike...And The Fear That Does Exist

2008-07-06T23:08:00.001-04:00

Now that the death of Jesse Helms has hit the news wire, everyone is using the various media outlets (blogs, comment sections, status messages on Facebook) to voice their respective opinions. As a black man, he, along with George Wallace and “Bull” Connor, represents the old guard of racism in the country, an example of why folks like Malcolm X and MLK were both necessary. But, given that I was not alive when Helms unleashed his wrath (at least most of it) on blacks and gays, he is only a representative. I didn’t see his racist press conferences, nor was I there when he handed out axe handles to beat back a peaceful demonstration in North Carolina. He is, for lack of a better term, “my parents’ racist.”

(On a lighter note, as a political junkie, I find this campaign ad, minus the overt racism, is pure genius).

It’s interesting to me how the times change perception (and in many ways truth). The individuals who struck the most fear in the hearts of blacks in the 50’s and 60’s would undoubtedly not do so today. A not-so-well-kept secret within today’s black community (much of it, at least) is that we would rather have a racist show his/her true colors and talk/act in ways that perfectly represent his/her beliefs. “At least I know what I am dealing with…” is a widely held statement amongst many.

Generally, the racism that we fear most today is the thoughts/actions that cannot be proven racist, because they are not done out in the open. We can’t prove racism in these instances, even if the outcome is so blatantly racist (this creates the “glass ceiling” that I fear most).

This dichotomy has come with the added bonus of providing “glass ceiling” racists with cover from racist charges. What occurs today doesn’t match the overt atrocities that occurred when Jesse Helms and George Wallace struck fear in black America. This fact gives those who currently act through racist means the ability to conveniently conclude: “since what I am doing isn’t as bad as what they did, clearly I am not a racist.”

This makes me question the term and its current use. Since there is a distinction between overt racism and “glass ceiling” racism, is it time to re-think the breadth of the term “racism” itself?

How Don Imus Could Benefit Us

2008-07-01T00:13:00.005-04:00

I’d like to say that I was shocked to hear what Don Imus said.

I am not.

I’d like to say that Don Imus should be fired.

He should not.

To paraphrase the immortal words of Coach Denny Green, “He is what we think he is! And we let him off the hook!!” Clearly Imus has an audience, and as much as I would like to shut him up, the answer to the problem that that manifests itself within Imus would not be alleviated by his firing.

You see, if black folks would stop thinking about themselves as a clique and more like a political party or lobbying group (something I am not adverse to), this whole situation would have played out completely different.

The African American Public Affairs Committee (“AAPAC”) would not call for a meaningless and useless apology from Imus, but would continuously use Imus as an example of the extreme bigotry and racism that exists, not in the back woods of West Virginia, but rather in a radio studio in posh New York.

AAPAC could take a cue from the tourette syndrome Rudolph Giuliani developed whenever he wished to remind folks that it was he who presided over New York City during September 11, 2001.

“America is a great great nation, but its past is littered with dark instances. (Don Imus).”

“As far as race relations have come, we have a much longer way to go. (Don Imus).”

“Racism still exists in its most hideous forms! (Don Imus).”

And so on…

We’d get at least three months worth of bills passed through Congress just from hanging Don Imus over America (hey, let’s be real: The American Israel Public Affairs Committee works this angle better than any other organization. That's a political reality, and a successful one to say the least). The key to this model is making sure that Imus stays on the air, making his very presence a constant reminder of why AAPAC’s work is necessary.

But what do we do? Send Al Sharpton in the direction of a camera to demand an apology. What exactly does this accomplish? That we can make someone apologize for saying something stupid? Is that a proper and/or productive exercise of power??

It's not even an exercise of power, but rather an exercise in futility; yet another example of how far we as a people still have to travel toward truly reaching the American Dream. (Don Imus).

Lay Off The Black Coaches!

2008-06-15T13:11:00.003-04:00

I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking critically about my people (black people, in case that fact was in question), pointing out some of our general deficiencies that I believe hold us back. But right now I am compelled defend a specific segment of the black community: black NBA head coaches. The commentary concerning most of them is unfair, not because they are themselves great head coaches, but because very few head coaches are.

What makes an NBA coach “great” has little to do with the plays he calls, but everything to do with his standing in the locker room and his understanding of the flow of the game. The x’s and o’s aspect of coaching is of lesser importance because the pace of the game is so fast and long stretches of the game go by without a play ever being called.

There are two current head coaches who can be considered “great”: Phil Jackson and Greg Popovich. They have the hardware (a combined 13 NBA championships over the last 16 years) that proves such accolades correct (given that Larry Brown is back amongst the coaching ranks, he gets an “honorable mention,” as he (1) has a ring, and (2) is probably the only coach in the modern era to win as an “x and o” guy. But his people skills suck, and while he should be commended for coaching so many teams at so many levels of basketball, one major reason why he’s traveled so much is because his players end up wanting to kill him, ala Spreewell vs. P.J. Carlissimo).

Side note: I didn’t realize this fact until I sat down to write this: outside of the two Rockets championships in the mid-90’s and Detroit’s championship in 2004, Phil Jackson and Greg Popovich have won every title since the 1st Gulf War. That’s incredible. Anyways…

But that’s it; there are no other great coaches; not even close. But you wouldn’t know that if you only listened to the press that much of the black coaching constituency receives. What bothers me most is the way that the intelligence of said black coaches is constantly challenged. The in-game changes made by coaches like Doc Rivers and Mike Brown are often aggressively criticized, while the press is often times silent concerning similar moves by the likes of Mike D’Antoni.

In fact, D’Antoni is often cast as a sympathetic figure, one who simply has had bad luck interrupt his otherwise brilliant assention and innovative approach to the game. But Avery Johnson doesn’t get the sympathy vote, even though the demise of these two coaches mirrors one another. For some reason, Johnson is publicly punished more so than D’Antoni for not winning a championship, even though his squad has actually been to the Finals, while D’Antoni-led teams have not.

What interests me even more is who Dallas chose to replace Johnson: Rick Carlile, a coaching re-tread who has never been anything more than an average NBA coach. His career highlight is that he coached the Indiana Pacers during “The Malice At The Palace” (a dubious distinction indeed). Other than that, most NBA fans wouldn’t know Rick from Adam. Yet he’s replacing a coach who had been to the Finals two years earlier. Yes, Johnson also has the distinction of being a 1-seed who lost to an 8-seed. But that fact never hurt George Karl’s career.

I do recognize that Terry Porter replaced D’Antoni. The difference between Porter’s hire and that of Carlile is that 1) Porter never had real talent on any of the squads he’s coached, and 2) the re-tread factor. Carlile is proven to be a mediocre coach, recently given reign over a team that needs to win now…

Mike Brown is often criticized for placing too much of the offensive burden on LeBron James, yet Larry Brown was celebrated for doing the same thing with Allen Iverson the year Philly went to the Finals (2001). Somehow, Larry Brown found the correct team chemistry in giving the ball to the most unstoppable force in the NBA during that season, while Mike Brown simply didn’t have the offensive ingenuity to do anything other than give the ball to the most unstoppable force in the NBA during that season. Something’s wrong with that…

Again, I am not praising the black coaches here. I am, however, shining a light on the fact that credit is given to coaches who don’t deserve it, while other coaches are criticized unnecessarily, as if there is some deep gulf between the likes of Rick Carlile and the likes of Mike Brown. Bottom line: there is none, and the distinctions that are subliminally made are problematic and insulting, and they need to stop.

"Street Corner Clout Is Such Flimsy Currency"

2008-06-14T15:40:00.002-04:00

It's been a while since I last posted on a consistent basis (I'll briefly explain why in a later post). But I've hit the proverbial reset button and I'm back (well, sort of; given that this is not one of my patented first-hand accounts of the world around me).

To commemorate this glorious day, please listen to and reflect upon some of the truest words ever spoken about the hip hop world. Enjoy.

A New America!

2008-06-04T14:49:00.006-04:00

Today the history books will have to be rewritten.

An African-American has been chosen as the nominee for POTUS of the Democratic Party. I say this with great enthusiasm, I will remember this day for the rest of my life.

As an African-American man living in these United States, I have come to see both the great progress and the great strides that we have made, and must still make in this country throughout the course of these 54 democratic primaries. This country still has deep wounds that urgently need to be healed. Some of our pain comes from circumstances that were out of our control. Yet, the deepest wounds have been self-inflicted. In the coming days and months I look to stand with Senator Obama and do whatever I can to help this country move forward, but before we look to run towards the light of progress, I just wanted to reflect on what this means not only for me, but for this nation as a whole.

As Obama said last night, "This is our moment, this is our time!" I couldn't agree more. As a fellow Chicagoan I know first hand what he and his fellow democratic leaders have done to uplift the state of Illinois. Yet in speaking with my mother and family members I cannot help but think of what a change it must be for them to see such an amazing feat, and think of how far we have come.

My mother is from rural northeast Texas. A small town named Marshall, and was a graduate of Wiley College; the same college that many of you may have heard about in the movie The Great Debaters. Marshall is a town mired in the old ways of the past, and has had a hard time moving forward and progressing with the rest of the nation.

My mother grew up in the old South. When she was a little girl she remembers having to use colored bathrooms and drink from colored fountains. She can recall the necessity of having to speak to whites as she walked home from school. She even got sub par grades in college because of racist professors, and had to take a job cleaning the houses of whites to earn money. Whites who treated her horribly, and had no regard for her safety, and general etiquette. She even told me that when she would go to get new shoes she was unable to try them on, and even had to bring traced outlines of her feet to give to the store clerk, for fear of tainting shoes that some white person may have wanted to buy.

This is the story of many of my family members. In certain parts of this country these traditions may have been stricken down by law, but the mental state of the "old guard" have permeated others and been passed down in not so formal ways. We can still see traces of this mentality in places like West Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Texas, and other areas throughout this country. These ideas of hierarchy and subservience need to be abandoned, and these individuals need to step forward and address their fears and concerns without trying to hold this nation back from what it rightfully needs.

I recently had the great opportunity to travel to the Civil Right Institute in Birmingham, AL. While on tour with my band we had the privilege to stop in and walk through to recount the steps of those who chose to stand up for equality and civil rights. I tell you it was astounding, humbling, and encouraging. When I remembered that these atrocities were not so long ago, my soul hurt from such a deep place, one that I cannot explain. My mind immediately recounts the times and situations when I may have been treated unfairly because of the color of my skin. I got angry. My instincts were to withdraw, seclude myself, and only involve myself in my community. Yet, I stood and realized all that I had accomplished and I was overwhelmed. Almost driven to tears.

It is a powerful and moving place to visit, no matter what your color. My band members and I walked out calmly and went to dinner. When we sat down we started to talk about our feelings and what we felt looking ahead. We are a band of African American men, 2 of Ghanaian decent. We play a mix of rock, hip-hop, funk, and soul music that bears no resemblance to the typical music played by blacks in this country. When we perform we are looked at oddly, and yet we don't feel weird. We don't see ourselves any different, but there is that inkling in the back of our minds that lets us know we are doing something a little different. Something that we are compelled to do, and something that once people get over the initial shock of who we are and what we look like, they embrace and see it for what it truly is--art.

We are a very politically aware bunch, myself being more involved than the rest, but we do keep abreast of all that's going on, even while out on the road. We even took to displaying two large posters onstage while we play; the two posters were gifts from artist Shepherd Fairey for performing at one of his studios in Los Angeles. They are two of the large Obama posters that say HOPE at the bottom of an iconic image of Barack. Mine sits in my bedroom, beautifully framed and will one day grace the walls of my home. We displayed the posters in all of the major cities we played in on tour, and the crowds responded greatly.

Now as the drummer I have a great view of the entire audience and I must tell you that our audiences are not primarily black. An issue that we note but are not deterred by. But as men who feel that it is our time to follow our dreams we try not to allow the fact that blacks have not truly warmed to our sound to stop us from creating music that is close to our hearts. Yet as the landscape of the electorate changes and our views about what are possible in this country, I can't help but wonder what will happen in the days to come. We have traveled to all four corners of this nation and we have seen first hand that this nation is ready for change.

Barack has changed the face of our party, at least in principle, not just to the US, but to the world. Everywhere we went while on tour in Europe and the UK, people asked us if we were for Obama once they found out where we were from. They were enthusiastic and wanted our views from someone who lives in the US. They wanted to hear our outlook and wanted to discuss politics and life, interdependence and collective goal sharing, global warming and the spread of war with people who they felt were open-minded. Its amazing to me how far reaching a change can go, and how a domino effect of ideas can ripple throughout the world.

Barack Obama is my candidate and has been from day one. I knew that he would eventually run when he gave his speech at the DNC convention in 2004. I agree with him on his outlook on the world, and think that he is in an amazing position to change not just this country, but how the world interacts. The United States has fallen from its lofty perch of leading the world, to a low and dismal place of just bullying it. That has to change. Change has been the mantra of his campaign and it has resonated with the people of this country from coast to coast, north to south. He has given us the opportunity to believe that we can define ourselves by our own terms, and not the labels that others try to place on us. He has shown that you can lead with dignity, roll with the punches, and throw a few of your own. Today we as a nation have made a tremendous step forward. I hope that we do not make the same mistakes we have made in the past and take two steps backward because of fear-mongering, prejudice, racism, sexism, hatred, and bigotry.

I am so proud to be an American today. This is not the first day, but it is one of the most important. I am overwhelmed with joy, and have to be patient and know that what Dr. King was speaking about is coming to fruition. When he said "Free at Last" I believe he was speaking about being free from our fears, from our prejudices, from the grasp of hatred, or being sexist. Free from feeling like we are more different than we are similar. Free from the barriers that we place in front of ourselves from the outset that limit our progress. I believe that America has the potential to be even more free. Not through the spread of democracy, bu through the spreading of ideas and ideals. We can be more free because we want to be.

With Barack gaining the nomination the United States as a whole has taken one step closer to that mountaintop that Dr. King spoke about so eloquently. He knew that he would not get there with us, just as Moses knew that he would not see the promise land, and sent Joshua to lead his people there. Forty plus years it took for them wandering in the desert to find their way and be lead to freedom. It's only fitting that when Barack takes the podium at the Democratic National Convention in Denver that it will be the 45th anniversary of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech.

I cannot wait for this general election campaign to get underway, and to go into the ballot booth to cast my vote for the first African-American President of the United States, but I must be patient. My grandmother always told me that patience is a virtue, and I know now more than ever, that "Our Time for Change has Come!"

Cosby Is Right, But...

2008-05-20T23:25:00.002-04:00

I do believe the Bill Cosby’s of the world have a significant point when discussing rap music’s lyrics and videos. Some videos that find themselves on BET and MTV are beyond degrading toward women, and this “Bling” era of music has placed an emphasis on club bangers and lessened the importance of thoughtful lyrics. So, to paraphrase Chris Rock, while I still love rap music (mostly that of an elder generation, but also some of the new stuff), I can no longer defend it. in fact, that ability left me long ago, sometime around the time this goodie from Nelly dropped.

(excuse me while I wipe up the drool...)

However, just like every person who puts blinders on their strong opinion, Cosby does not paint a complete picture concerning what ails the black community. Now before you jump to Cosby’s defense and point out that there is no way to completely articulate all that ails those who are black, let me say that I agree with you…to an extent. I know there isn’t a plausible way to articulate everything that troubles such a diverse group. Nevertheless rap music and videos, while in the faces of those who turn on a TV on a regular basis, is not all that commonly captivates black folks. What about the negatives that the Black Church promotes?

While my past beefs with the Black Church are documented, my understanding of it has evolved. In short, I only have beef with those pastors who say stupid things.

Things along the lines of this.

And this.

If a child were placed in front of that Nelly video and then those pastors’ sermons, which do you think would scar the child worse? For different reasons, I say it’s a wash.

The explicit nature of “uncut” rap videos is undeniably problematic, to say the least. However, at least I can tell my little cousins that Nelly is relevant only for entertainment purposes, and therefore should not be looked up to. Conversely, how do I explain away a religious and community leader (a position that pastors have historically held within our communities) calling the black race “unreliable” and disrespecting another black man to such an extent? Obama is a long-legged mack-daddy? His African in-heat father?? He was born trash??? I understand that they are zealously supporting their candidate, but those words are ridiculous, and if white folks said that ish…well, you know the rest.

So where is the national voice against those hateful words? Where’s the gospel album denouncing that ish?

One Of Those Moments: Part 2

2008-04-04T14:22:00.002-04:00

In order for the 14^th Amendment to regulate private actions, those actions have to be sufficiently entangled with some action by the state. This is important because the ruling in The Civil Rights Cases, which essentially ended Reconstruction and ushered in Jim Crow, highlighted the ability of private actors to legally segregate and discriminate. I tell you this because these cases began a section of class reading that was somewhat uncomfortable, as that age old topic of race and discrimination reared its ugly head.

Within these cases, the judicial opinions are colored with the language used during that time period. Words like “Negro” are thrown about with less care than they are now, simply because that’s what blacks were known by (well, it’s universally understood that we were known by less agreeable terms, so I guess the Court could be commended for using the most complimentary available term to describe the newly freed slaves, but I digress…). This can prove problematic for a professor who necessarily needs to remain specific to the text in order to properly teach (something a constitutional law professor has to do). This can prove especially problematic for an ultra-liberal, awkward man like Professor Payne. It was clear from jump that Payne struggled in trying to figure out how to say “Negro” in a way that remained true to the text but also doesn’t offend.

Side note: I can’t speak for all black folks (and the rest of this story will prove that point correct), but the term “Negro” does not offend me, especially when it’s spoken in the context of a constitutional law class. “Nigger” is offensive; “Nigga,” at present date, can only be spoken in public under very specific circumstances, and even that statement is questionable. “Negro” is just an old term. In fact, it’s an old term that was used in order to speak highly (given the time period) of black people. While that description of the term may seem like a back-handed compliment, it also points to the fact that the term never embraced the same venom as “nigger,” or even the present-day use of “nigga.”

Fast-forward a few classes, and visualize Payne in his customarily awkward self, struggling through his usual “errs” and “ehhs,” and then gathering the inner strength to say “Negroes” as if he were breaking bad news to his child. He went through this process many times, to the point that I was beginning to feel sorry for him. Roe, sitting in the front of the class, raised her hand and then explained in a very mature manner that she would rather Payne use a term other than “Negro” (I point out her maturity, as I can think of quite a few black females who, being offended by the term, would show their asses while telling the professor that his words were unpleasant). She went on to explain that the continual use of the term serves only to convey its acceptance, and she is against such approval.

Payne, now looking even more awkward (before this moment, I had only heard of folks turning “beet red,” thinking this to be hyperbole of some level. Thanks to Payne, I now have seen the perfect combination of red and purple on a person's face that also creates the unique hue of a ripe beet; canned, not fresh.), attempted to explain the difficulty in coming up with a word to describe the entire Pan-African race, as many Caribbean folks take offense to being called African-American, as do native Africans (this highlights an usually under-the-radar issue that African-Americans deal with: African-Americans are often looked down upon by others of similar hue. Don’t get me started…). He finally said that “black” would probably be the universal term of choice at present moment. Finally, he made the point that it is important to use terminology of the text, as it properly dates the opinion and gives the opinion proper meaning. He ultimately apologized for using the term and said he’d attempt to avoid its use.

Of course this confrontation led to plenty of debate, and on a campus full of lawyers-in-training, debate can become a mess. In an effort to hear from folks who don’t organize their opinions based on the IRAC system, I ask you: was Payne wrong in using the term? Was Roe wrong in confronting Payne?

One Of Those Moments: Part 1

2008-04-04T00:33:00.003-04:00

Have you ever been in a situation where the thoughts running through your head are moving so fast and are so numerous that you really never make sense of them? Well, I had one of “those” moments. Please allow me to lay a foundation (read: describe the actors involved) before I delve into the circumstances. I’ll make this a two-part entry, so not to overwhelm you with too much babble at one time…

-My Friend Who Will Remain Nameless: I will call her “Roe” for these purposes. Roe is from Africa, (Nigeria I believe), and has been “Americanized” as far as I can tell. At the very least, she doesn’t have that foreign look that most people not from here possess.

I like Roe; she possesses a confidence in self that seems to effortlessly balance poise with maturity, a plateau that I find some black women either can’t or refuse to achieve. Of course I am not talking about all, most, or even half of black women, but (in true LSAT fashion) “some” do lack maturity with their confidence. Whomever doesn’t have it isn’t important; Roe has it. This fact made the story I will tell surprising at first glance…

-The “Over-Extended Captain Morgan,” Professor Payne: You’ve met him during one of my earlier reflections about law school. Now he is my constitutional law professor, and he’s as awkward as ever.

As a graduate from a liberal arts college, I have learned a great deal about well-intentioned white folks. For the purposes of this conversation, they really mean no harm to anyone and do a great deal to truly understand people of all cultures and (I believe) place no stereotypes on anyone whom they first meet. But these attempts often come from a fear of being a racist, which has its dangers. A comedic understanding of what an individual who fits this description would look like is the white guy who enters The Carter in order to take care of a person in legitimate need, refusing to recognize the warning signs of danger, only to catch a royal ass-whooping after innocently stumbling across Nino Brown’s principle place of business (those last four words go out to all of my civil procedure fans out there. Shout out to minimum contacts…). Naïve to a fault (let’s be real, none of us would enter the Carter uninvited in 1991), but good peoples. Anyways, if you make that guy 65 years old with bad teeth, you’ve got a good picture of Professor Payne, Captain Morgan in the flesh.

Constitutional law class: Given America’s current level of diversity and regrettable history on issues like slavery, women’s rights, and that far-reaching commerce clause (law school is turning me into a boring conversationalist. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…), the opinions handed down by those illustrious jurists will necessarily offend someone at any given time. It is what it is; every class provides an opportunity to have that conversation Obama was talking about (if he included gender) yet people are too afraid to have it for fear that they will be labeled. Those are genuine and logical fears indeed, but they’re exactly what prevents what I believe to be THE conversation that must be held for progress to be obtained. So my classmates just sit there and take in Payne’s dissection of Amendment after Amendment, in hopes that no one raises his/her hand and rocks the boat too hard. I can’t front like I confront the issues; the only questions I ask relate to the practical construction of the document and relevant cases, leaving THE questions for my mind alone to toil with.

The story to come...

A Racial Moment In History?

2008-03-19T00:55:00.002-04:00

With this speech, Barack Obama challenged America in ways I do not believe many can. Whether America in its entirety is ready to meet his challenge remains to be answered.

23/6 Video of the Day

2008-03-14T08:29:00.000-04:00

Invasion by Proxy?

2008-03-13T08:34:00.002-04:00

"Your Face Doesn't Show That You Have Suffered"

2008-03-12T08:04:00.006-04:00

I was out at dinner a few nights ago when I found out that Lawrence Fishburne is directing a movie based on one of my favorite books, the Alchemist.

I wanted to write a post describing how this book was a good place to begin the telling of my story. But for whatever reason, I hesitated.

So when Brother Lightness told me just last night that he had finally read the book, I figured now was as good a time as any to speak on it.

Some would say the book isn't for everyone. I disagree, which is not to say that I think the book is for everyone, but instead to say it is a book that is best discovered of one's own accord.

I figured, however, that it might be a good place to start because in many ways, it's where I became acutely aware of my own journey.

I was seventeen when I first read the Alchemist. I won't credit the book for the transformation itself, but it was most certainly one of many catalysts that offset my paradigm shift.

For the first time, I started to think of life as a narrative complete with occasional tests and miracles.

From that point on, I understood that part of enjoying life was recognizing how well things come together. I was beginning to see the bigger picture.

My story begins a long time ago. But since this is Postgraduate Musings, it's best that I start my story on the day I graduated from college and drove back home to New York City from Williamstown.

That trip was depressing for a number of reasons. First, it was unbearably hot. Second, the fact that college was over finally began to sink in as the scenery changed on the Taconic. Third, albeit temporarily, I was heading to the South Bronx.

At some point during this trip, my mother and I began speaking about the Congo-a subject that often lifts my spirits. I spoke of my desire to go and like any good mother she assuaged my joy just enough to make me think realistically, but not enough to make me altogether lose the urge to visit the African continent.

She spoke of how the scarcity of electricity in some places would be shocking to me. She met every romantic notion I had with words of caution about what was reality. And for the most part I listened and resolved to myself that my trip would be like nothing I had ever experienced before.

At one point, I said something to the extent of, "well, I was born to two African parents so I should be able to blend right in." She responded saying, "you'll stick out like a sore thumb," which was funny given my mother isn't one to use American idioms.

Suprised, I asked her why I would not be able to fit in if I were to keep to myself and dress like everyone else. After thinking for a few seconds, she replied, "your face doesn't show that you have suffered. The people in my country have suffered a great deal and it shows in their faces."

Truth be told, I was a little offended at first. I've suffered, I thought to myself.

She was right, though. What I had suffered was not comparable to the suffering of the people of her country. I've always had the luxury of hope and of not knowing true fear.

So at the core of my narrative is this notion that no one should suffer. And many months ago I began to keep my eyes open to opportunities where I can of service to this dream and its realization.

Lumumba's Last Letter

2008-03-11T08:05:00.001-04:00

Ma compagne chérie,

Je t'écris ces mots sans savoir s'ils te parviendront, quand ils te parviendront et si je serai en vie lorsque tu les liras. Tout au long de ma lutte pour l'indépendance de mon pays, je n'ai jamais douté un seul instant du triomphe final de la cause sacrée à laquelle mes compagnons et moi avons consacré toute notre vie. Mais ce que nous voulions pour notre pays, son droit à une vie honorable, à une dignité sans tache, à une indépendance sans restrictions, le colonialisme belge et ses alliés occidentaux-- qui ont trouvé des soutiens directs et indirects, délibérés et non délibérés, parmi certains hauts fonctionnaires desNations-unies, cet organisme en qui nous avons placé toute notre confiance lorsque nous avons fait appel à son assistance -- ne l'ont jamais voulu.

Ils ont corrompu certains de nos compatriotes, ils ont contribué à déformer la vérité et à souiller notre indépendance. Que pourrai je dire d'autre ?

Que mort, vivant, libre ou en prison sur ordre des colonialistes, ce n'est pas ma personne qui compte. C'est le Congo, c'est notre pauvre peuple dont on a transformé l'indépendance en une cage d'où l'on nous regarde du dehors, tantôt avec cette compassion bénévole, tantôt avec joie et plaisir. Mais ma foi restera inébranlable. Je sais et je sens au fond de moi même que tôt ou tard mon peuple se débarrassera de tous ses ennemis intérieurs et extérieurs, qu'il se lèvera comme un seul homme pour dire non au capitalisme dégradant et honteux, et pour reprendre sa dignité sous un soleil pur.

Nous ne sommes pas seuls. L'Afrique, l'Asie et les peuples libres et libérés de tous les coins du monde se trouveront toujours aux côtés de millions de congolais qui n'abandonneront la lutte que le jour où il n'y aura plus de colonisateurs et leurs mercenaires dans notre pays. A mes enfants que je laisse, et que peut-être je ne reverrai plus, je veux qu'on dise que l'avenir du Congo est beau et qu'il attend d'eux, comme il attend de chaque Congolais, d'accomplir la tâche sacrée de la reconstruction de notre indépendance et de notre souveraineté, car sans dignité il n'y a pas de liberté, sans justice il n'y a pas de dignité, et sans indépendance il n'y a pas d'hommes libres.

Ni brutalités, ni sévices, ni tortures ne m'ont jamais amené à demander la grâce, car je préfère mourir la tête haute, la foi inébranlable et la confiance profonde dans la destinée de mon pays, plutôt que vivre dans la soumission et le mépris des principes sacrés. L'histoire dira un jour son mot, mais ce ne sera pas l'histoire qu'on enseignera à Bruxelles, Washington, Paris ou aux Nations Unies, mais celle qu'on enseignera dans les pays affranchis du colonialisme et de ses fantoches. L'Afrique écrira sa propre histoire et elle sera au nord et au sud du Sahara une histoire de gloire et de dignité.

Ne me pleure pas, ma compagne. Moi je sais que mon pays, qui souffre tant, saura défendre son indépendance et sa liberté.

Vive le Congo ! Vive l'Afrique !

Patrice Lumumba

My Dear,

I am writing this without knowing whether you will ever get it, or when, or whether I shall be still alive when you read it. Throughout my struggle for the independence of my country I have never for one instance doubted that the sacred cause to which my friends and I have given our lives would triumph in the end. But what we have wanted for our country, the right to honorable life, to untarnished dignity, to unrestricted freedom-these things have never been desired on our behalf by those important officials in the UN in whom we put our trust, and upon whom we called for help, because, whether they knew it or not, they were directly or indirectly supporting the colonialism of Belgium and her friends in the West.

They have corrupted the minds of some of our compatriots, others they have simply bought, and they have played their parts in distorting truth and shackling our independence. Dead or alive, free or imprisoned by the colonialist, it is not I who matter, it is the Congo, it is our poor people whose independence has been turned into a cage in which we can be watched by those outside, either with positive pleasure, or with benevolent compassion. But my faith remains unshaken. I know, and feel in my heart, that sooner or later my people will shake off all enemies, inside and outside our land, and they will rise as one man to say "no" to the shame and degradation of colonialism and to assume once again their dignity under clear skies.

We are not alone, Africa, Asia, and the free and freed peoples all over the world will always stand beside those millions of Congolese who will not give up the struggle until the day when no colonizers and no mercenaries are left on our soil. I would like my children, whom I am leaving and may perhaps never see again, to be told that the Congo has a great future, and that it is up to them as to every other Congolese, to carry out the sacred task of rebuilding our independence and our sovereignty, for where there is no dignity, there is no freedom, and where there is no justice there is no dignity, and there is no independence there are no free men.

No brutality, no agony, no torture has ever driven me to beg for mercy, for I would rather die with my head high, my faith unshaken, and a profound trust in the destiny of-my country, than live in subjection seeing principles that are sacred to be laughed to scorn. History will have it one day-Not the history they teach in Brussels, Paris, Washington or the United Nations, but the history taught in the countries set free from colonialism and it's puppet rulers, Africa will write her own history, and both north and south of the Sahara. It will be a history of glory and dignity.

Do not weep, my love; I know that my country, which has suffered so much, will be able to defend it's independence and liberty.

Long live the Congo!
Long live Africa!

Patrice Lumumba

What Happened to Maxwell?

2008-03-11T08:00:00.001-04:00

Just the other day my sister broke out in a soft voice and sang the following words:

Away from me

To see clearly

The way that love can be,

when you are not with me

I had to lead

I had to let

I had to leave

I had to live

It's kind of crazy to think that a snippet of a highly anticipated song can still retain it's splendor after almost a year. Pretty Wings is Maxwell's one minute and thirty-eight second version of Jay-Z's Encore.; except nobody's yellin' to get the brother back on stage.

The protests come in the form of people pressing Ctrl+F5 to refresh their browser when on his myspace page.

About a month or so ago, Brother Spotless sent Lightness and me an e-mail with the word "Random" in its subject. It read as follows:

first: it seems like a ridiculous thought (at least to me), but Maxwell hasn't produced an album in seven years.

second: everyone who considers themselves a sophisticated black music lover claims "Urban Hang Suite" as an album in heavy rotation.[...D]oes Maxwell possess a particularly important place in our...[lives]?

First, apologies for putting your e-mail on blast Spotless, but I think it's a discussion worth sharing.

It's true, Maxwell has almost disappeared from the face of the planet. No appearances at awards shows or demeaning photos on Crunktastical.

I decided to do some investigative work and hit up my trusted google search engine.

Maxwell is dropping Part 1 of a three part album titled Black Summers' Night. Now, if I'm not mistaken, this was supposed to be released last Valentine's Day. Much to many's chagrin, it never happened and we've all been left to wonder if we're ever going to find peace.

I'm actually glad to hear the brother again after such a long hiatus, even if he has only given us a snippet.

Few artist understand the beauty of keeping the market hungry for your product.

On on extreme you the R. Kelly R&B singer prototype. Let's face it, the man can make a hell of album. It was R. Kelly, in fact, who wrote what is arguably Maxwell's most popular song, Ascension. While popularity has never been a determinant of Maxwell's modus operandi, Ascension's financial success speaks to R.Kelly's knowledge of what the people want.

Then you've got your Sade and Seal of the game. Note how I didn't make that plural (i.e. Sades and Seals of the game) because both them are on an entirely different level.

They don't flood the market with their product. You hear from them every few years and they give you something timeless. As bizarre as this may sound, they managed to remain underground.

If you ask any teenager who Sade you'll be surprised to have your inquiry met with a curious stare and the word, "Who?"

So what's impressive about Maxwell is how well he's been able to play the cut. I couldn't even find the dude's birth name.

More impressive, however, has been the fact that the people are still hungry for his product. I think this is a testament to the greatness of his previous work.

I, for one, look forward to whatever he's got whenever it's coming out. And if the below track is any indication of what's in store for us, I have full confidence that his music will be as pivotal to the newest generation as it was for my generation.

Pretty Wings.mp...

Run For Congo Women

2008-03-10T08:30:00.001-04:00

The week is off to a slow start but I wanted to post this video about the situtation in the Democractic Republic of the Congo.

Run for Congo Women is just one of many organizations trying to make difference in a part of the world where unthinkable violence has and continues to take place.

There was a run just this past weekend and others set for the following dates in the following cities:

Portland, OR — September 14, 2008
New York, NY — October 4, 2008
Morrison, CO — September 13, 2008
Chicago, IL — October 11, 2008
Morganton, NC — August 30, 2008
Tempe/Phoenix, AZ — October 5, 2008
St. Louis, MO — October 18, 2008

Brother Lightness and I will most likely be doing the NY run in October.

I'll repost this again come the fall, but in the meantime, I figured I'd give you all a friendly reminder so you can pencil it into your calendars.

On the Road Playlist

2008-03-08T10:30:00.003-05:00

I've been trying to get together a good playlist of music that I'm going to call "On the Road."

I came upon Les Deesses while doing a search for Congolese music. To my dismay, my background check on their Congolese origins came up negative. As it so happens, two of them hail from the French Antilles and the remaining sister is from Cameroon.

Billboard.com describes Les Deesses (French for Goddesses) as an "Afro-Zouk pop trio that made waves in Africa, the Carribbean, and France."

The group leader is Lylah, which I find pretty impressive given she's only 19 years old (the other two group members are both 21).

When I first heard this track I immediately fell in love with it. The production is plush and the lyrics are tight. The song is about a move to Paris and the change that inevitably takes place during the time apart from a loved one.

The song has been out for a minute (since July of 2007) but, for whatever reason, America hasn't seemed to catch on just yet.

Les Deesses' sound reminds me little of Makeda- the neo-soul double double royal yet subtle sisters from France. Though born in France, in 1985, these sisters packed their bags and moved to Chad with their mother and father (slowly but surely I'm going to make this Congolese connection).

Makeda, is a heavenly track. It's one of those nostalgic songs whose sound takes me back to a Tribe Called Quest's Midnight Marauders.

Les Nubians - Make...

Both of these tracks, and others that I'll be sure to share with you all in the coming weeks, are going on the "On the Road" playlist.

Peace Peace

Undergraduate Liberal Arts Education in a Nutshell

2008-03-07T11:02:00.002-05:00

SwiftKids for Truth: Video of the Day

2008-03-07T08:29:00.000-05:00

The African Dream

2008-03-07T08:00:00.005-05:00

"What does the future hold in store for us in the Congo? It certainly holds victory, but a distant one."

When I got to college I found out that Che Guevara, Fidel Castro's right hand man, had been to the Congo.

The Sixties were a decade that saw the assassination of far too many of that epoch's revered figures: John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr, Robert Kennedy, Medgar Evers, Fred Hampton and Che Guevara himself.

Guevara traveled to the center of the world in '65 with little preparation and grand aspirations in the wake of what was quite possibly the greatest individual loss to the African continent.

One of the first assassinations of the Sixties, and the one assassination I intentionally neglected to mention above, was that of Patrice Lumumba, the first Prime Minister of the then Republic of the Congo (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

Bordering nine different countries, the Congo should be the great hub of African commerce. There should be a sophisticated system of highway roads and railways all leading to the center of that country. Flights to South Africa should have layovers at Lumumba International Airport. The 2032 Olympics should take place in Kinshasa.

Instead, there has been a war that has claimed the lives of millions. In fact, the sheer magnitude of the Second Congo War has earned it the dual title of Africa's World War and the Great War of Africa.

Who knows what the fate of Central Africa would have been had Lumumba still been alive or if Che Guevara's attempt to stifle imperialism and neo-colonialism in the African continent would have been successful.

Che's flaw was that he believed in the omnipotence of force-particularly the use of violence to enact change. And I can't fault the brother for believing this as the history of all revolutionary struggle is evidence enough to support his modus operandi.

My point is not to point out his missteps, however, nor offer what I believe he could have done to be more effective, at least not in this post.

Besides, Guevara analyzes the Revolutionary War and its failure in the epilogue of his diaries. His insights and self-evaluation are profoundly reflective and almost foretelling.

I do want to offer a few quotes that struck me when I picked up this book a second time, however.

In describing one of his first attempts to rally the Congolese Freedom Fighters, Guevara writes,

"I spoke to them of the fundamental importance which the Congo liberation struggle had in our eyes. Victory would be continental in its reach and its consequences. "

When the fighters did not react positively to this idea of fighting a war to "liberate another country," Guevara writes,

"I tried to show them that we were talking not of a struggle within fixed frontiers, but of a war against the common enemy, present as much in Mozambique as in Malawi, Rhodesia or South Africa, the Congo or Angola. No one saw it like that."

Finally, there's this gem from his epilogue that I've transcribed here for your reading pleasure. It truly captures what I believe is at the crux of the Congo's current plight.

"In Africa, especially the part called Black Africa because of the colour of people's skin, you can follow a long chain from primitive communism to dots on the map where there are a proletariat and a developing bourgeoisie. In keeping with the new imperialist plan of action, there is no opposition of any kind between the national bourgeoisies and the neo-colonial powers. Each individual country, when drawing up its plan for the liberation struggle, must start by treating as its enemies not only the imperialists and the layers on which their strength is based (such as the surviving colonial armies and, more dangerous still, the colonial mentality of their officers), but all the noveaux riches, importers and emergent industrialists who are closely linked to monopoly capital in the form of bureaucratic capitalism."

Sixty Days and Counting...

2008-03-06T08:25:00.004-05:00

"Ce n'est pas vrai! Eh kele kele! Si cette homme ici me passait dans la rue, j'aurais pensé qu'il était juste un autre Américain."

'juste un autre Américain'...a gift and a curse. And in a few months we'll find out if it's more of the former than the latter.

'juste un autre Américain'

But alas, I'm an African-American!

I owe a few words of thanks to Brother Jesse for coining that term. It connected the black people in this country to the continent. More importantly, however, the term further extended my already extended family.

The word African-American, in its own way, made me an ally to the post civil rights struggle- a struggle that I inherited by virtue of my skin and the manner in which it colored my experience. It also gave me a great pride in my culture and a great appreciation of the beauty of my ancestors.

But it was the concept of justice and the hope that I might one day see it realized that brings me this very place today.

It's only fitting that the basis for my solidarity with the black American plight would be the basis for my solidarity with the African plight.

So as I ready myself to embark on the next leg of this journey, I've decided to share my experience.

J'espere que sa sera utile.

When We Were Presidents

2008-02-26T07:20:00.003-05:00

When We Were Presidents:
The Untold Story of the Debate in the Buckeye State

The backdrop is eerily familiar. We are a country at war now just as we are a country at war then. It's becoming increasingly apparent to the populous that it's a war that should never have been waged in the first place; and the people are looking for a hero. The people are yearning for a hero....the people are creating a hero.

A brother (in desperate need of a haircut) with a knack for capturing the moment paints a Picasso of a narrative. He places this epic battle in context and tells this tale like no one else has.

Ali vs. Foreman, the rumble in the jungle....

Obama vs. Clinton, the debate in the Buckeye state

The Contenders

The similarities are mind boggling. Obama is considered the talker; Clinton, the fighter.

Just like Ali, the former's experience is oft-overshadowed by his rhetoric. There's the Lugar-Obama Nuclear Non-Proliferation and Conventional Weapons Threat Reduction Act, the 2007 Government Ethics Bill, the Government Transparency Act, and several hundred bills that have been written and co-sponsored by the Senator. See Congressional Record (www.thomas.gov)

Indeed, his record is impressive and he dances around opponents with his charisma and gift of oratory.

When he announced he was running for President, the critics were skeptical of Obama's chances. Early in the race, his statement on Pakistan gave credence to those who believed he simply wasn't ready. A flurry of criticism ensued.

"He'd let people pummel him...It was as if he wanted to train his body to receive these messages of punishment and absorb them faster than any other fighter could absorb them."

-Norman Mailer on Muhammad Ali's training regimen

Clinton, on the other hand, was heavily favored by all.

"The time may come to say goodbye to Muhammad Ali. Because very honestly, I don't think he can beat George Foreman...Maybe he can pull off a miracle. But against George Foreman...so strong, so fearless? Against George Foreman who does away with his opponents one after another in less than three rounds?"

-Howard Cosell

Hilary has gone up against the Republican machine and her tough exterior is evidence of it. She packs a punch that can decapitate an opponent and she isn't afraid to throw it. Her record and experience in the ring are equally, if not more, impressive than Obama. As first lady, she was quite active in public policy issues, but her experience as Senator of New York solidified her as a lead-contender in this fight for the title.

Like Mobuto Sese-Seko, the renowned dictator of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), George Bush, the closest thing the United States has had to a dictator, would not be present at the fight.

Foreman arrived at the Kinshasa national airport with a German shepherd- the same canine that the Belgians used on the Congolese.

Clinton arrived in South Carolina with Bob Johnson- the same canine that brought us BET, a network I pray for on a regular basis.

In both cases, this didn't go over well with the people.

Still, there were other similarities. Kinshasa had James Brown, California had Stevie Wonder (both of whom were helped back on stage when they fell/jumped off).

In reality a victory for either fighter would be monumental. But the implications of an Ali/Obama victory would be historic.

Fight Night

"They said this day would never come."

Round 1 was Iowa. Obama came out swinging and emerged victorious.

But after Round 2 (New Hampshire) Clinton returned to the drivers seat and the situation began to look grim. We were all left wondering the same thing....How long can Obama withstand the rib-shattering shots from Clinton?

The Rope-a-dope tactic confused many of us.

In response to the claim that he wasn't always opposed to the war:

"This, I think, is one of the things that I think has happened throughout the campaign. There's a set of assertions made by Senator Clinton and her husband that are not factually accurate"

In response to the Reagan gut punch:

"That is simply not true....While I was working on those streets watching those folks see their jobs shipped overseas....You were on the board of Walmart"

His responses have been tactful and poised, but it's Round 8 and if this fight goes to decision the judges may not rule in his favor.

Obama will have to deliver a knockout soon- a rapid succession of blows that will bring down the hard-hitting Clinton machine.

The word on the street is that Clinton's sheer political prowess will slowly but surely overwhelm Obama. Tonight, Obama has an opportunity that does not present itself to often- the opportunity to confront Clinton. I have reason to believe, however, that tonight's debate will determine the Democratic nominee. And like the Grammy's something tells me that there will be blood.

A country in turmoil with a people ready for new leadership. It's a story of great significance-an epic battle whose implications time will only reveal.

My parting words: Watch out for the woman with the trembling hands...

Toni Morrison's Endorsement

2008-02-05T07:52:00.000-05:00

Toni Morrison has been praised by her peers for writing the best work of fiction in the last 25 years. Though it is uncharacteristic of her, she now lends her pen to further inspire. It goes without saying that we could not have said it better ourselves.

Dear Senator Obama,
This letter represents a first for me--a public endorsement of a Presidential candidate. I feel driven to let you know why I am writing it. One reason is it may help gather other supporters; another is that this is one of those singular moments that nations ignore at their peril. I will not rehearse the multiple crises facing us, but of one thing I am certain: this opportunity for a national evolution (even revolution) will not come again soon, and I am convinced you are the person to capture it.
May I describe to you my thoughts?
I have admired Senator Clinton for years. Her knowledge always seemed to me exhaustive; her negotiation of politics expert. However I am more compelled by the quality of mind (as far as I can measure it) of a candidate. I cared little for her gender as a source of my admiration, and the little I did care was based on the fact that no liberal woman has ever ruled in America. Only conservative or "new-centrist" ones are allowed into that realm. Nor do I care very much for your race[s]. I would not support you if that was all you had to offer or because it might make me "proud."
In thinking carefully about the strengths of the candidates, I stunned myself when I came to the following conclusion: that in addition to keen intelligence, integrity and a rare authenticity, you exhibit something that has nothing to do with age, experience, race or gender and something I don't see in other candidates. That something is a creative imagination which coupled with brilliance equals wisdom. It is too bad if we associate it only with gray hair and old age. Or if we call searing vision naivete. Or if we believe cunning is insight. Or if we settle for finessing cures tailored for each ravaged tree in the forest while ignoring the poisonous landscape that feeds and surrounds it. Wisdom is a gift; you can't train for it, inherit it, learn it in a class, or earn it in the workplace--that access can foster the acquisition of knowledge, but not wisdom.
When, I wondered, was the last time this country was guided by such a leader? Someone whose moral center was un-embargoed? Someone with courage instead of mere ambition? Someone who truly thinks of his country's citizens as "we," not "they"? Someone who understands what it will take to help America realize the virtues it fancies about itself, what it desperately needs to become in the world?
Our future is ripe, outrageously rich in its possibilities. Yet unleashing the glory of that future will require a difficult labor, and some may be so frightened of its birth they will refuse to abandon their nostalgia for the womb.
There have been a few prescient leaders in our past, but you are the man for this time.
Good luck to you and to us.
Toni Morrison

BrownEph Endorses Senator Barack Obama

2008-02-04T08:39:00.000-05:00

We here at PGM have watched the primary debates with great and growing concern. In many ways, this year's election will determine the future of our nation. This Tuesday, Americans will exercise their franchise at voting polls around the nation. In light of this, we issue our official endorsement of Senator Barack Obama. We strongly encourage you to vote for Senator Obama on Super Tuesday and invite you to share your thoughts below.

Can You Believe?

2008-02-04T02:15:00.000-05:00

Michelle Obama: Truth And Sincerity

2008-01-28T12:17:00.000-05:00

What's Your Favorite Opening Theme to The Wire?

2008-01-07T01:39:00.001-05:00

Season 1

Season 2

Season 3

Season 4

Season 5

Say It Loud...

2008-01-04T22:22:00.000-05:00

Buppie Extravaganza!!!

2008-01-02T01:43:00.000-05:00

Often times the term “Buppie” (Black Upwardly-mobile Professionals) possesses negative connotations by the speaker, and those scarlet-lettered with it are viewed as sellouts who turned their backs on their people and culture some time ago. This is true for some, but not all. Often times when I hear the term I simply think of young blacks who have made it beyond the beginning stages of success, are making good money, and actually possess a considerable amount of control over their futures. Sure, most have taken advantage of equal opportunity programs and have been private-school educated (many times both high school and college), but it is a mistake (and also derogatory) to believe that these people have necessarily forgotten where they came from or wish to disassociate themselves from it. I’ll leave the question of whether Buppies are realizing the dream of our foremothers and forefathers for the history books to answer, but I do know that Buppies (in many cases, not all of course) BELIEVE they are building something special (I write “they” as if I sit on the outside of the Buppie consortium. Call it the trappings of racial and personal self-reflection, I guess. Digression as usual…).

But enough of the somber social commentary, I am writing this to express the amount of fun I had at Brother Lightness’ New Year’s Bash in Harlem. The night was filled with great food, beverages galore, the obligatory white guy (while I won’t demean by calling him “token,” I am finding this occurrence more often. I will explain…), and sophisticated black folks.

Here are some observations:

--OK, about the obligatory white guy. First, let me say that while I don’t know him, I found him to be comfortable in his surroundings. This was key, because when some folks had a few drinks in them, I heard more than a few “there’s a white guy here” comments floating about. In fact, there was one instance when it was thought that my man didn’t know how to dance (black folks, believe me, the truth to that myth is falling to the waste side, slowly but surely) and someone found it necessary to teach him a two-step to “take to da club whitcha.” I was embarrassed on multiple levels. First, the “dance instructor” couldn’t dance, and was drunk on top of that. So his two-step looked more like…a drunk man dancing. Second, people began to stare, which made everyone involved (except, not surprisingly, the dance instructor) uncomfortable. Third, the white guy had more rhythm than the instructor, which should have made the instructor uncomfortable, but like I said, he had been drinking. To his credit, the white guy just played it off, made a light-hearted joke, and kept it moving. It reminded me of the first months I spent at Williams College, after transferring from Florida A&M. I’m sure others have been in similar situations, but when someone makes not-so-thinly-veiled racial comments, one can either lash out or (like the white guy did) get out of the situation as quickly as possible. I commend the white guy for this; I’m not sure most people would have handled it the same way. I’m sure that the number of situations like this will grow, as interracial dating becomes more prevalent, it becomes more acceptable (amongst blacks and whites) that white men are attracted to black women, and white people overall become less intimidated by black people.

--I was really impressed by the diversity in occupation of the folks who attended. From teachers to Wall St. traders, from government employees to marketing head honchos, and from television producers to lowly students like myself, a vast cross-section of employment was represented. It cannot be said that black folks only take advantage of one occupation…

--The dancing that I witnessed at this party was truly entertaining. It has to be said that (paraphrasing The Spirit of Trinidad) Brother Smartness, his younger sibling (who’s stage presence I liken to…well…Brother Smartness, aka “Confidence Personified”), and Bother Brolicness can dance well, and they put on a show for us all to see. As Brother Smartness has shared, House Music is his first love. So when Lightness livened the party from his iTunes catalog with House tunes, Smartness’ face lit up like a Christmas tree and provided the party attendees with his special brand of dance-floor flavor. The highlight of the evening occurred when Smartness completed a flurry of his best moves with a heel click oldie-but-goody similar to this:

--Last but not least, thank you Brother Brolicness, for exposing me to this. That’s a dope beat…

I'm Losin' It Ya'll...

2007-12-31T03:28:00.000-05:00

As I re-enter society like an ex-con who just did a five year bid up-state, I am finding it terribly difficult to be normal. I can’t seem to entertain conversation with people who are not in law school. I can’t sleep when everyone else is asleep. I’m finding that I am more out of shape than I have ever been since I graduated college (that has less to do with law school, and more to do with laziness). I…for lack of a better term…suck.

After four months of eating, sleeping, and breathing law, nights and days spent fighting off what Jay Smooth calls, “The Little Hater,” I cannot seem to properly acclimate myself to the world that the rest of civilization dwells in. I don’t have a definitive reason as to why I am such an oddball now, but here are my two best guesses:

1) During that four-month span, the world continued as it always has, but somehow I managed to stop the clock within me. All the concentration spent on studying allowed me to drift into my own personal realm, one which paid no attention to the world around me (well, if I were honest I’d admit that at least SOME of the time spent “studying” was also spent worrying. But why be honest? I’m training to be a lawyer for goodness sakes. As always, I digress…). When the studying ceased and I drifted back to reality, I still looked at my life as if it were August when it was really December. I know that four months is not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things (I speak as if I know what that grand scheme is…), but I found that amount of time to be grand when I looked up and found Barack to still be in the thick of the Democratic Primary (shout to Barack).

2) My fellow 1L’s and I have spent too much time talking to each other about the trials and tribulations of law school, as well as making those horrifically corny “inside law school” jokes (my personal favs are: “I use your mom so much that she should have a prescriptive easement!” and “Failing to satisfy a woman is negligence per se.” Yea, they’re as bad said aloud…). One thing that I didn’t realize until after the exam period was the bonding experience that law school can be. Like I’ve said before, everyone becomes scared at some point during their first semester. However, the only people who one can talk to about their fears (as thinly masked as they may be) are other law students. So you explain your fears without actually saying you’re scared, and then you listen to someone else do the same thing. This petrified and anxious back and forth eventually creates a bastardized relationship, fully equipped with its own dialect and said crappy inside jokes. It could very well be that I grew to rely on these relationships, no matter how silly I found them at the time.

Either way (both have probably played a role in my newfound insanity), I now sit here typing away, not only because I have a diary to keep, but also because in a way I’m talking to myself, and who understands me better than me? (please, hold your finger-pointing, ridicule, and the requisite “THAT Negro has lost all sense of being” looks until after I leave the room…)

Given that the New Year is upon us, I guess it is appropriate that I make a resolution. Here I go: MY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION is to stay more in contact with folks who knew me before I got myself into this law school ish. The Brothers and Sisters here as well as select others should keep me sane and bring me back to reality when I inevitably slip back into my personal realm or walk up to a complete stranger and ask her “You down with the UCC? Yea you know me!!”

Happy and prosperous 2008 to all of you, and prayers for me (only half-joking).

Fin

2007-12-20T10:18:00.000-05:00

To say that I am relieved to have completed my first semester of law school is an understatement; by the time the last exam rolled around (contracts), I was really running on empty. However, I knew I had given my all to those exams. If you are a sports fan or a former athlete, the term “I left it on the field” should explain how I felt in shorthand. Now I wait for the results. But whatever I get, I know I earned it.

Some observations:

A total of six people dropped out of law school between November 19 and December 19, and I was shocked to find that those individuals were the ones to leave. These were some of the more confident (acting) people in the class. I guess the lesson learned here is: don’t worry about what other people are doing/saying during the semester, because the pressure-cooker that is the lead-up to exams (as well as the exam period itself) is the ultimate equalizer. For every successful asshole who thinks he knows everything and doesn’t mind sharing his arrogance with others, there’s an unsuccessful asshole who thought he could fool everyone into fearing his supposed intellectual supremacy.

On a similar note, one of the individuals to drop out actually showed up for the first exam. Word is the night before he was bragging about how he knew all he needed to know through mentally synthesizing class discussions, and therefore did not need to study (my guess is that by the time this story found its way to my ears, some truth had been stretched. I am inclined to believe the essence of it because I personally heard him express similar sentiments earlier in the semester, only half-jokingly). I saw him sitting in a chair no more than ten minutes before the exam began, but people in his class told me he never entered the exam room. While I do find joy in the thought of him sitting outside of the exam room, mere minutes from launch, coming to the conclusion that his arrogance was tragically misplaced (I find great joy in that, actually), I feel bad for his classmates. If he was going to dropout, he could have simply taken the exam, failed it, thus lowering the curve. Those classmates were four hours from at least a half-grade bump. Bummer.

During my property exam, I saw a grown man cry. Not in any wimpy boo-hoo fashion, but in that red-complexioned, lip-biting, bitter beer faced appearance that white folks get when they are frustrated (that’s not racist comment, just an observation. Black folks can look like clowns too when we get frustrated). I almost cracked up during the exam, but then I realized that I wanted to cry mere minutes before. When I tell you that this exam was a BEAST, I don’t speak of wild boar in Arkansas. I am talking about Minotaurs and the Werewolf of London. In order to “get” conveyances, you have to “get” all of them; you can’t BS through them, and there is no analysis. 108 of these sons-of-bitches is enough to make anyone wimper, so I can’t blame the guy who cried…

I began the exam period studying in groups, but soon found it much better to study on my own. I found that as the semester ended, there was a rush to form groups with the smartest people available, which is silly because no one really knew who’s smart and who’s not, so the entire occurrence amounted to little more than a popularity contest (I believe I’ve mentioned before that the similarities between law school and high school are uncanny). I thought I had a good group of people (and there could actually have been some smart individuals in the group), but I soon found that group dynamics don’t allow for an individual to learn all he/she needs for the exam. Given that the majority of an exam-takers job is to issue spot and analyze, it is important to be able to pick up on all the issues. But if everyone is yelling out the issues, all you can do is listen to others, not actually learn how to better spot issues. I am sure I hurt feelings (not on purpose, but also not important), but I had to leave the group. Since the practice of law is largely spent in solitude, it makes sense that the study would be as well. We’ll see…

And now I sleep.

Now, Where Did I Place My Chi...

2007-11-22T15:33:00.000-05:00

So yea, I’ve been slacking on my diary. Well, not exactly slacking, because there was a point where law school suddenly got real. But I have neglected the blog, and for that I apologize. Please allow me to briefly recap some things I’ve noticed:

--Law school professors are some of the weirdest people you’ll ever want to meet. It’s as if they sold their souls (and abilities to not act awkward around people) to some legal devil in exchange for uber-legal knowledge. Case in point:

I asked a professor a question in class. He thought about it for a quick second and began to explain, using lots of “umms” and “ehhs.” All in all, the first minute of his response was clear. However, he hit a point (as all professors inevitably do) where my question brought about another, and he did the weirdest thing I think I’ve ever seen a professor do: he asked the second question aloud, then began to theorize, and then (here it is) placed his foot on top of his desk while standing, sort of like an over-extended Captain Morgan. He explained the rest of his thoughts (about another seven minutes) standing like this. Then, another question came to his mind, which seemed to shock him out of his tribute to the good captain. He placed his leg back on the ground, continued with his thoughts, and then laid across the desk, seemingly without any understanding of how bizarre this scene was. He just kept talking, so deep in his thoughts he must have forgotten that other people were in the room with him. For a quick second I had an eerie feeling inside, like I didn’t quite know where I was. The scene was too crazy for me; I had to get up and take a bathroom break.

--There seems to be some sort of a rivalry brewing between older folks and younger folks. In actuality, there isn’t a significant difference in age, but because people are people, we all need SOMEONE to hate on. The dividing line seems to be the summer of 2005: if you graduated before then, you’re an old head; if you graduated after, you’re immature. I have to admit, I do find those who graduated after 2005 have a juvenile quality about them; I chalk it up to the fact that most of them haven’t had to deal with a real boss (when I say “real boss,” I mean those bosses who manage places greater than The Gap). There’s something about having real responsibilities that forces one to grow up. As it stands, those youngsters seem to treat law school (both the study and the social activities) as an extension of undergrad. My guess is that cannot be wise. We’ll see…

--As of right now, I am confident that I will do extremely well on my exams. I also feel like the pressure could force me to drop out at any moment. I know the combination of those two sounds weird and mutually exclusive, but I really can’t describe this gut feeling I have any other way. I walk into class and know what’s being spoken about, to the point where I can sometimes anticipate where the arguments of others will falter. In addition, I know there isn’t anything over my head because when I study I know the vast majority of the concepts and terminology. Sounds great, right? Well, not so fast. You see, I don’t REALLY know if I know. The single most discouraging part of law school (and the basic reason for all of the horror stories I heard before entering) is that you never know if you’re doing the right thing.

There are no mid terms or any other grades during the semester, which usually lend folks a peak into where they are deficient. And professors never answer questions directly; I consistently walk away from consultations with more questions than I had before walking into that professor’s office. In September, I recognized this and simply moved on. In October, I recognized this and was able to joke about it with others, which was actually a defense mechanism I subconsciously employed to keep the stress at bay. But now it’s Turkey Day, two weeks before exams begin, and I can no longer laugh this off. Living in a world where I am confident and fearful at the same time about the same thing places an unbelievable amount of stress on my mind, probably more so than if I simply were not confident.

It’s crunch time folks, seemingly the defining moment that separates the best from the average. Only, I can’t tell the difference between the two…

Satire

2007-10-23T00:26:00.000-04:00

Learn From My Mistakes

2007-10-20T04:14:00.000-04:00

It is 3:37am on a Saturday morning and I have just come to a rather frightening moment of clarity: damn near nothing that I have done thus far in law school will prepare me for the exams. I feel like someone just kicked me in the torso; I think I’m bleeding in my chest.
Up to this point, I’ve briefed cases like a madman, going beyond what was probably necessary in the name of avoiding those embarrassing moments in class when someone fails to understand the particulars of a case to a sufficient level, and the professor intellectually smacks him/her around for his/her sheer enjoyment. Those moments are uncomfortable to watch, especially when the person going through the torture is a friend. I’ve done all that I can to avoid ending up on the receiving end of such grilling, but in the name of class prep I forgot the goal of a 1st semester law student: ace the exams.

The exams have next to nothing to do with class discussions. All one can ascertain from class discussion is a general idea of what type of answers the professor is looking for on the exam. The exam is black letter law: the law defined and the elements that make that law complete. While this may seem simple, the task of acing an exam only begins with knowing the law in its black letter. As I understand it, most exam takers lose the most points because they don’t know how to take a law school exam.

The exam is best taken when one knows “The Drill.” The Drill, when properly used, tortures the relevant facts and law from the exam fact pattern to the point where every possible cause of action is thoroughly analyzed, showing the professor that you know the law (the easy part) and know how the law works in the real world (this is what makes a lawyer).
I have been ready, willing and able to attack almost every question a professor may ask in class, and while I haven’t always answer aloud, I always have had a response. I have attacked law school this way in part because it feels good to have the ability to banter back and forth with a professor, but also in part because it feels good to be proof that a black man in Air Force Ones and wearing a baseball cap can stand toe to toe with anyone who challenges his analysis capabilities.

I have fallen victim to my own hubris and stupidity. I forgot that I am not here to prove anything to anyone. I am here to be the best lawyer I can be. By attacking class discussion and neglecting exam prep, I have put my ability to reach my goal in jeopardy. Luckily, I have realized the error of my ways (it was actually brought to me by someone who cares), and have a chance to make necessary corrections to my day-to-day.

If you plan on going to law school, do not make the same mistake that I have.

Letters to the Editor of the New York Times

2007-10-19T17:28:00.000-04:00

The following are letters written by individuals after the October 7th, 2007 piece on the Rape Epidemic in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. (Click the title above to read the article.)

Letters
Rape and War: An African Tragedy
Published: October 14, 2007

To the Editor:
Re “Rape Epidemic Raises Trauma of Congo War” (front page, Oct. 7): I know that something is wrong with the world when thousands of Congolese women are raped without causing an international outcry. How is it that we accept futility as the answer to a crisis of this magnitude?

It is already apparent that little will be done beyond the attempts of the United Nations to prevent further trauma from occurring in this region. No political leaders will offer these women asylum in their countries; no American presidential candidates will address this issue on the campaign trail; and people around the world will go about their lives ignorant of the pain and terror in Congo.

We should examine our resignation to this situation and find an actual solution, rather than continue to aid the exploitation of women through desensitivity.

Ty Kipling
Seattle, Oct. 7, 2007

•

To the Editor:

We have both spent time in eastern Congo and met girls and women who have experienced almost unimaginable brutality at the hands of combatants on all sides of the devastating conflict in Congo. As the rapes are unrelenting and the consequences are deadly, V-Day and Unicef (on behalf of United Nations Action against Sexual Violence in Conflict) have begun a new initiative to protect women and girls against rape and sexual torture in eastern Congo.

The initiative calls for an end to impunity for sexual violence, for measures to ensure that state armed forces and police do not perpetrate sexual violence against women and girls and for the full enforcement of national laws that protect and empower women.

Rape and other torture against women and girls in Congo and in other conflicts around the world can be addressed. Rape is abhorrent and unacceptable, but it is also preventable.

What is needed is a huge commitment from the government of Congo, the governments of neighboring countries and the entire international community, including the United Nations, to prioritize the safety and security of women and girls in Congo. They deserve no less.

Eve Ensler
Ann M. Veneman
New York, Oct. 8, 2007

The writers are, respectively, founder and artistic director of V-Day and executive director of Unicef.

•

To the Editor:

Finally the paper of record has acknowledged on its front page the unimaginable horrors being visited on the women and girls of the Democratic Republic of Congo. For 10 years Congo has been in the center of what many describe as Africa’s world war.

Since 1998 more than four million people have died (more than 10 times the number of deaths in Darfur), but it is largely a forgotten war. And what is happening to Congolese women can only be described as sexual terrorism: militias from neighboring countries know that to destroy its women is to destroy Congo. The impact of their savagery will last for generations.

For the last two years I have been documenting these atrocities, interviewing many dozens of rape survivors in South Kivu for my film “The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo.” I also interviewed rapists, all soldiers in the Congolese Army. Although the government points to a recent law making rape illegal, these men describe their crimes without shame or fear of reprisal.

In her recent report, Yakin Erturk, the United Nations special rapporteur on violence against women, described what is happening in eastern Congo as “beyond rape.” How far beyond the beyond must this go before an outraged world responds?

Lisa F. Jackson
New York, Oct. 8, 2007

•

To the Editor:

Since 2002 the International Rescue Committee has helped more than 40,000 survivors of sexual violence in the Democratic Republic of Congo. As attention and financing for sexual violence ebbed and flowed, there has been a steady stream of rape survivors seeking help — even as peace talks were held and continuing after peace has allegedly arrived.

The I.R.C. works to make sure that each woman’s life story does not end with rape. We have seen how Congolese women and girls refuse to give up and display an amazing degree of strength. As in any epidemic, it will take resources to stop rape in Congo.

An I.R.C. emergency team is currently deployed in North Kivu and with limited resources will do what it can to get help to survivors. More resources will allow humanitarian organizations to let the victims know that they are not alone and get them lifesaving medical care and emotional support.

The international community has a role to play in stopping the impunity and holding the perpetrators accountable for the havoc they wreak. We must act to end it.

Alyoscia D’Onofrio
Regional Director, International Rescue Committee
Kinshasa, Congo, Oct. 8, 2007

•

To the Editor:

While the situation in Congo is extreme in its brutality and pervasiveness, the sickening fact is that rape has been widely used as a tool of war (most notably in Kosovo, Rwanda and Darfur) and is all too common in our own communities. Pregnancy can be a second trauma for rape victims, but its risk can be greatly reduced by prompt use of emergency contraception. Yet women are often denied emergency contraception after rape.

It was estimated that during the 1990s, only one-fifth of women being treated for rape in United States emergency rooms were offered emergency contraception, and Catholic hospitals in many states are still withholding this contraceptive method from women in their care. Anecdotal evidence suggests that women in many developing-country settings face similar difficulties accessing this safe “second chance” to prevent pregnancy.

Until we consistently provide emergency contraception in emergency rooms (including those in Catholic hospitals) and in refugee camps around the world, we are failing women during a time of desperate need.

Elizabeth Westley
New York, Oct. 7, 2007

On a More Serious Note...

2007-10-17T00:53:00.001-04:00

There is something very troubling about this sort of faith.

And this sort of preaching to the masses (a book on the biblical evidence proving that the world will end in 2011) on a public radio station.

Subway Chronicles: Entry #5

2007-10-17T00:32:00.000-04:00

The turnstiles of the New York City Subway System are portals to a wonderland of adventure. What I will attempt to do in these chronicles is transcribe the bizarre occurrences that I participate in and witness on a daily basis. The # 5 train is to me what the Inferno was to Dante. If nothing, I hope these accounts will at least paint a thought-provoking picture of what goes down in the underground.

Exhausted after two straight nights of house music in New York, I couldn’t help but doze off a little on the train. Someone tapping on my knee awakened me. I figured they probably wanted to sit next to me so I moved over a little before looking up.

And there she was. Homegirl.

There are a few characters that are renowned on the train. Annoying Amos, Homegirl, the Jamaican preacher on the platform of 125th street, the kids selling candy “not fo’ no basketball team, but so I can stay outta da streets.” (I’ve always wanted to correct the grammar on these kids, but alas I’ve acquiesced to the fact that my calling is elsewhere.

I hope to acquaint you all with these characters and more in the coming months but for now, let me describe Homegirl.

This woman is renowned for asking people of color for a helping hand, but has a way about her that can be unsettling. The last time she asked me for money, a three-year-old girl was sitting to my right with her mother. On that day the train was crowded. Anyway, Homegirl proceeded to utter profanities as she described her plight to me. I promptly stopped her and told her that I was offended by her use of vulgarity and pointed to the child to my left. I pulled out my wallet and gave her two dollars and she took two steps to my right and proceeded to make the same profanity-laced plea to another brother on the train.

Today I knew better.

I was a little offended that she woke me up and had but one dollar on my person. She began to recount her story, oblivious to the fact that I was a return, albeit reluctant, customer in this bizarro-world system of coerced charity.

Palm extended she asked, “Could you spare some change?”

Knowing full well that I didn’t have any change, I patted my pockets in a weird Pavlovian response mechanism to hoboes kind-of-way and said, “I’m sorry”

“YOU AINT SORRY!” she stated emphatically, and stormed into the next car.

Suffice it to say, I was exposed. I think there's a moral to this story, but I'll leave it to you to figure it out.

So much for catching a nap on the train ride back home.

As Much As Things Change, They Remain The Same...

2007-10-16T14:20:00.000-04:00

I am a firm believer that after a certain point folks stop maturing, yet it is the circumstances they find themselves in that grow in importance. So in many ways, the social life in law school is very similar to the social life I experienced in undergrad. Whenever I went out back then, the old adage, “where I’m going is not going to be fun, but the people there will make it fun” (well, it’s an old adage in the Berkshires…). The same is true for law school, but for different reasons. Here, it really doesn’t matter if the place I’m going to is fun, because there isn’t much time for such enjoyment; I just need a drink. It’s not like fun places and cool individuals would be hard to find; NYC is a 20 minute train ride away. But in the amount of time it takes to get ready, travel to the train, take the subway to the final destination, get a drink, have some fun, and do all of that traveling to get back home, I could have done a lot of case briefing for class. Is this the best use of my time? Clearly not, especially considering what I now know to be a fact that whenever I am not in front of a law book, I am thinking that I ought to be. So why bother with all of that? Just get me to the nearest bar!

This attitude that I have adopted from my law school elders brings me to my point: if a law student is not in front of a book, he/she is in front of a glass of hard alcohol. I am sure that this stressful law school environment has forced many to the point of (at least) slight alcohol addiction, and the amount of alcohol related moments falls on the ridiculous side of reason.

It is really a pitiful sight to watch two 30+ individuals drunkenly make out at the bar…

Justice Clarence Thomas on 60 Minutes

2007-10-03T18:00:00.000-04:00

"It's All Right If It's All White"

2007-09-25T19:25:00.000-04:00

Beyond the pale?
By Naresh Puri BBC News

One of Bollywood's biggest film stars is being criticised by Asian campaigners for promoting a skin-lightening cream - a product that is now on the shelves of British shops.

The 40-second advertisement from India starts like so many others promoting razors or hair dye - but it's an ad with a very big difference.

There's a man who has no luck with the girls. He has markedly darker skin than his friends and the girl he is after. In a real song-and-dance Bollywood extravaganza, one of the biggest heart throbs of Indian cinema, Shahrukh Khan, hands over a cream to the hapless chap, along with some mild admonishment.

Within a few weeks, the young man has turned much lighter-skinned and confident. As he strides down the road like a modern-day answer to John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, the girls start flocking to him and chanting: "Hi handsome, hi handsome." Khan comes back into view with the product, Fair and Handsome.

The skin-lightening cream for men, along with its more feminine counterparts, has found its way into Asian supermarkets and stores in the UK.

While Khan's advert has not been shown yet in the UK, it too has made its way to British consumers via YouTube. And the product's success or failure in the British market place may say something about the nature of beauty and the politics of race.

Kiran Kaur - a Sikh human rights activist in west London, one of the epicentres of Asian cultural life in the UK - says the arrival of Fair and Handsome, with a Bollywood name in tow, is a step back in time.

'Age-old prejudices'

"The ad simply reinforces the idea that you've got to be fair to be anything in life," says Kiran.

"It says that if you're fair and good looking, you'll be a wonderful daughter-in-law or husband, your skin colour determines how successful you'll be in life. The ad reinforces age-old prejudices."

The skin-lightening industry is worth at least £100m in India and the Fair-and-Handsome-for-Men range is the latest product from one of the market's big players.

Manufacturers say they are responding to a demand, but in recent years protests in India have seen at least one advert taken off air. Other lightening products targeted at black women have been on sale for years, some of them containing chemicals banned for years from British goods.

Actress Rani Moorthy knows first hand about the prejudice suffered by Asians with darker skin.

She is currently touring the UK with her play that focuses on skin colour, Shades of Brown.

"When I was a child my grandmother took me to one side and said make sure you're good at something, no man will ever marry you for your looks," she says.

"I knew this was because I was dark skinned. It was treated as a disease and every Friday I had to have oil baths in an attempt to lighten my skin".

To continue reading visit here

"Do You Listen to Music or Do You Just Skim Through It?"

2007-09-20T20:20:00.000-04:00

I love a good story. Children's Story, I Got a Story to Tell, Ms Fat Booty, Coming of Age (original and Da Sequel), Rewind, Renee, Dance With the Devil, and the list could go on and on...

I wanted to revisit a previous post and ask you to lend your ear to one of Cee-Lo's story; a story that might have gone over many people's heads.

I took the liberty to transcribe it below because I was compelled to share it. Few things are more exhilarating than figuring out what a rapper is saying when, for whatever reason, his/her lyrics don't hit home the first few times you listen to a track.

That said, this freestyle may be one of the most interesting verses/pieces of poetry I've ever heard in my life.

Have a good weekend folks!

In the beginning there was none other than the original people
Skin blackened from the sun
But somewhere along the line, I broke the laws of the divine
And I closed this place on this soul of mine
Pale became the color of my face
Feeling out of place amongst the people of my race
Filled with hate, I moved to a colder climate
Intercourse with animals and raw flesh was ate
Feel their disease, sub zero degrees
And Satan's blood in my veins didn't freeze
This hatred that I have for you, it runs deeper than your skin
I hate the one who put me in this position that I'm in
Until, I realized the powers of evil
Anything I have to do I will
I steal, kill, and destroy
Went home to Africa looking for slaves to employ
Blue eyes, lies and a smile was my only decoy
Snatch you up from your roots
What good is a spirit when I have this new invention that shoots?
Brought you here then deceived you
I changed and rearranged everything that you have ever believed true
My soul is cold as ice is
I sold you for prices
You were hung from trees for sacrifices
But through the blood, sweat, tears, and pain,
God spirit in ya'll still remains
Which is actually more than I got
But I have a mansion and a yacht
The plot is making you think that it's about what it's not
With precision I tell you lies through television
Distort your religion, wrap you up in materialism
How could you kill your own?
Don't you see, you're learning to act just like me
But be more aware, ha
That the truth is there
I tell you all the time but you n*gg*s don't care
But not all of you
There are a few that get into themselves and books on shelves
And learn something knew
And once they know, they become so powerful
But many don't have the means nor the inspiration to go
To school and I know they hate it
But you can't get a decent job unless your properly educated
But educated about what?
It seems to me that thus far
You've only learned about who we are
Isn't that funny, you'll give a school all your money
For what you think you need, but it's never guaranteed
The misled mislead you
Your faith has been broken provoking you to do whatever will feed you
Well I'll front you some cooked cocaine in plain plastic sacks
To sell to your fellow blacks
But while the foundation of your people cracks
You try to resist
But I won't stop until you n*gg*s don't exist!
You n*gg*s strong though,
I give you that
But you must be stupid as hell to be that strong
and still be where you at
And you still don't have a clue,
I am who I am because of n*gg*s like you!

The Spotlight Is Hot

2007-09-14T22:05:00.000-04:00

Something I’ve noticed:

The Socratic Method can prove difficult for students. Being called on by a stern-looking law professor can be nerve-racking enough. Being called on by said professor in a class of 120 students can shake ones racked nerves even more. Attempting to answer said professor’s question in a class of 120 students when you have no idea what the case presented is about has to bestow a catastrophic strain on ones nerves (to avoid this, all one has to do is read. Surprisingly, some folks haven’t learned this lesson; I inevitably end up restraining myself from swiftly applying a karate chop to the necks of these individuals during conversations when they include phrases like “law school is hard”).

While the difficulties arising from a lack of understanding of the case presented are obvious when an individual has not read, I find it important to note that the Socratic Method can be tricky to navigate even when you have done the reading. Any law professor worth his paycheck has the ability to not only understand the law, but also help his/her students understand it as well (obvious statement, but it gets better; I promise). In using the Socratic Method to help students grasp the necessary rules, the professor will ask a student to provide the relevant facts, the issue of the case, the rule of law, how the law applies to the case, and the conclusion of the court, or better known as the IRAC process (no Saddam or oil jokes, please).

Once this is out of the way, the professor will pepper the student with a bunch of questions that amount to a changing of the facts, which allows the student to present his/her understanding of the law. There will almost always come a time in this process when the student cannot answer the question, usually because of some combination of mental fatigue, sudden awareness that he/she is the only person in the entire lecture hall talking for long stretches of discussion, and lack of knowledge of the law. We law students have to understand that reaching this point is ok and in fact good. It relays to the professor that not only have you read the case, but you understand the relevant rules enough to run the gauntlet of questions put forth.

What many fail to notice until they are under the spotlight is that it is hard to answer those questions on the spot in any type of articulate manner. (Warning, a rant is upon you) So yes, I may sound infantile when I respond; that simply means I am new to this game and am trying desperately to play while learning the rules at the same time. For some reason, this signals to the rest of the class, those having had a moment to think about this question (now the 4th one applied to me by the professor like a body blow connecting surgically) without the spotlight falling on them, that they can now flaunt their intellectual abilities.

That’s some bullshit! This is my question!! I analyzed this case from IRAC. I stumbled through legal jargon (as well as a healthy dose of misused legal jargon) and came to sound analytical conclusions. I wanted to see this one through to the end. And in the midst of all of this thought, about twenty-five hands raised. Who the hell are these people to steal the answer to this question, a question I laid the foundation for?

Truth be told, I had no clue what the answer was, and there would have been a long and uncomfortable silence if the professor hadn’t moved on to someone else. I just hope the professor recognized all the work I put in for that class discussion.

80 Blocks From Tiffany's (1979)

2007-09-14T18:30:00.000-04:00

Brother Tallness had sent me a link to a blog post containing the videos below a minute ago. At the time, the video took forever to play so I just stored the link in an e-mail message in my draft inbox under the subject line "for future viewing." I'm glad I finally came back to it, because it's a true gem.

A lot has changed in the South Bronx, but a lot has also remained the same. The videos are powerful and in the interest of getting to the point I'll draw from the summary of the blogger that initially posted all the video's in succession, much like they are below.

Directed by Gary Weis (bka “The Poor Man’s Albert Brooks”), 80 Blocks… is a relatively unbiased document of Bronx gangs the Savage Skulls and Savage Nomads in the late 70s and, by extension, also serves as glance at in the womb old school hip hop. Rarely seen outside of third generation bootlegs (and a few of those that did see it missed the point entirely), the film has been liberated at last by/for the Youtube generation. Needless to say, it is required viewing, so get your finger out your booty and press play.

Hope everyone has a blessed weekend. And a big shout out to Tallness for sending this to a brotha!

A Review of Bling: A Planet Rock

2007-09-10T19:57:00.000-04:00

Something didn’t sit well with me after this movie. I left the theatre with a pang in my gut that was all too familiar.

You know when you’re at a hip-hop club and the majority of the women begin to make moves leaving behind hordes of resilient men who, even in the face of countless rejections, are determined to leave the club with someone?

As the sun begins to peak over the horizon, our most primitive proclivities unleash as fights break out, and women are accosted by concupiscent men making their last earnest attempts to acquire the math.

Upon examining this sort of behavior, I can’t help but feel utterly despondent and exhausted. I can never quite understand this conduct and maybe I never will.

In the midst of it all, I tend to ask myself one of two questions, with expletives removed for the children’s sake: “Why am I here?” and “Why do I keep coming here?”

That is honestly how I felt during the Q&A session with Raquel Cepeda, director of Bling: A Planet Rock. The primitive fights were replaced by displays of rhetorical prowess and the flaunting of accomplishments. One woman gave her entire life story before finally getting around to asking a question. And the question was about when the DVD would be available!!! The earnest “last call” attempts to get women to give up the digits was supplanted by a misguided attempt to highlight the correlation between hip hop and the diamond industry; a correlation that everyone seemed to take for granted from the get.

So I found myself spurning ideological advances and trying to keep alert so as not to be drawn into the spectacle of battling egos. It really felt like someone was trying to kick game to me about the merits of hip hop on an intellectual level. But thankfully, I’ve been in the game long enough to know that just because it sounds good, don’t mean it’s all good.

THE MOVIE

I’m going to borrow from BAM’s synopsis of the movie because I’m too lazy to try to paraphrase it.

Just tryna keep it real...

Directed by Raquel Cepeda [,…]this documentary takes a hard-hitting look at how the flashy world of commercial hip-hop jewelry played a significant role in the ten-year civil war in Sierra Leone, West Africa. The movie follows three hip-hop celebrities: Raekwon (Wu Tang Clan), Paul Wall, and Reggaetón king Tego Calderón as they visit the capital of Freetown to meet the community and survey the devastation caused by the diamond mines.

This idea, the notion that the “flashy world of commercial hip-hop jewelry played a significant role in the…war in Sierra Leone”, resonated throughout the film and was echoed by Raquel Cepeda in the Q&A session that followed the viewing.

I’ll submit to you today that hip hop did not play a significant role in the civil war.

The words “significant role” tell me that if commercial hip-hop had not popularized bling, thereby increasing the demand for diamonds, then the civil war in Sierra Leone may have been just a little different.

What then should we make of the struggle for power and/or stability fueled by greed, hunger, hatred, post colonial strife, and a million more catalysts that most definitely initiated a reaction of violence and war? What about the fear that griped the people of Sierra Leone? What of the despondency that plagued the inhabitants of villages? What about the combination of gun powder and cocaine that made scores of rifle totin’ child-conscripting regiments numb to human emotions and feelings?

To say that mainstream hip-hop played a significant role in all of this is simply wrong.

This movie is an attack on the “perversion” of hip hop (an attack on mainstream hip hop) by people who believe in the idea of a hip hop that has been good since its inception. Consequently, what we are left with is a movie about hip hop with Sierra Leone acting as the backdrop.

THE GOOD

The best parts of this film, by far, had to have been the moments of enlightenment.

One of the most remarkable parts of the film was a scene where Ishmael Beah, best-selling author of A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, recounted his experiences as a child soldier. Beah had returned to Sierra Leone for the first time in over a decade and the sub plot of his trip home was juxtaposed with the first visitation by renowned hip-hop stars Raekwon, Tego Calderon, and Paul Wall.

In this particular scene of the movie, however, Raekwon was slumped in his seat, his body manifesting the sense of guilt the trip had already given his conscience. His gaze seemed to indicate that he was listening to the story as images of the mutilated children he had just visited with earlier in the day ran through his head.

As Ishmael told them his story, Raekwon politely interrupted asking, “Did you kill anybody?”

When Ishmael responded in the affirmative, Raekwon rephrased his question. “Did you kill children?”

Ishmael did kill children and he made that known to all the rappers in so many words.

But Ishmael isn’t a gangsta. He’s in his early 20s with a youthful countenance and innocent eyes. But behind those eyes lies a mind that is well acquainted with atrocities. His smile is wide and warm but hearing his story makes you wonder whether it masks a true sadness. And my heart goes out to the brother. He has an intimate knowledge of what man is capable of in this world.

I’m sure that this particular revelation hit home with many of these rappers who associate with a culture that glorifies violence and assertions of prowess because it forces us to juxtapose our experience, one that we are often quick to define as “real” or “thorough,” with someone else’s. And it’s humbling as hell.

THE BAD

Marcus Garvey would have been delighted to see brothers return to the motherland because that journey is the first of many steps that we, as foriegnors, can take in assisting that continent and its people in the fight to attain true liberation.

Unfortunately, one of the most difficult things about making such an emotionally uncomfortable trip is the return to familiar and comfortable conditions back home. Though there is no substitute for human interaction, the experience of emotion and concern that we go through while watching a film dealing with issues as pertinent as this one is, in a word, real.

I wonder and worry about the human disconnect that this age of technology once repaired but now exacerbates. There was a time when images of canines attacking black adolescents shocked the world into action. Today, images just as grave are as abundant as they are inciting. But the sheer magnitude of problems is so overwhelming that we are shocked into a sense of helplessness.

When asked what she would want people to think about upon leaving the movie, Racquel Cepeda responded saying the following, in a June 2007 interview with Satya Magazine:

I would want them to think about the global community and know we are not insulated, America’s not the only country on the planet. There are other countries we should be taking care of and treating as if they were our family. Because hip hop is the voice of youth culture all over the world, I also want people, especially the artists in the hip hop community, to come away with a sense of empowerment. Maybe it will inspire some people to get involved in different kinds of causes, and not think that if you get involved, you have to trade in your brand of hip hop for a kufi, if you will. I wanted to bring hip hop artists like Paul Wall, Raekwon and Tego, who have their ear to the streets.

As far as the whole conflict diamond situation, I definitely wanted people to come away with the sense that it’s way bigger than just whether a diamond is conflict-free or not. It’s about the way these workers are being exploited, and hopefully the international spotlight will shine on Sierra Leone. Maybe people will become motivated into making change and pressuring the global community to improve the conditions in which these miners work.

I think the director had nothing but good intentions when she envisioned this film. What this movie failed to do in my eyes, however, was illustrate that "it's bigger than hip hop" © Dead Prez.

If you stop wearing diamonds, the death and decadence in this world will not end. You might put DeBeers out of business but some other manufacturer will take its place. They'll come up with a brilliant marketing and advertising scheme for a product that you don’t really need and consumption by the masses will ensue.

As Raquel Cepeda mentioned above, it's not just about the suffering in Africa. It's about the disparity in wealth all around the world. It's about the problems that plague humanity; problems from which hip hop itself was birthed.

In closing, I want to say that I thought the movie was real. It did what the director hoped it would. It elicted emotion and ultimately got this brother thinking.

I worry, however, because feeling and thinking is not enough. But I think I echo the director's sentiments in hoping that those who've watched the uncomfortable images of the documentary simply don't return to the comfort of everyday life.

The world, literally, depends on it.

Dig deeper ya'll...

Study Well

2007-09-09T19:13:00.000-04:00

One of the most important, yet often times overlooked, aspects of the first few weeks of law school concerns how one studies. When most people think about law school, their imaginations immediately teleport to some version of frantic studying till the wee hours of the morning. While there is a bit of truth to that representation (I do find myself up at 2am more times than I care for), understanding how to study efficiently would probably alleviate some of those fears.

It is necessary to have a firm understanding of how one best studies in order to be successful. The earlier in the game one figures this out, the better. This may seem like an obvious statement, but if you believe that you’d be surprised to find the amount of people who don’t know how they best study.

Should I study on a day-to-day basis, allowing myself to keep up with the daily readings? Should I complete a week’s worth of studying for certain classes during the weekend, providing my weekday schedule with some flexibility? Is there another way altogether? And which way provides me with the least amount of stress? When do I want to take a moment for myself: weekend or weekdays? These questions, along with others, are of utmost importance, and it is essential that one provides answers for them. It has to be detrimental to ones psyche to have to approach the mountainous amounts of reading assigned without knowing which method of approach is best.

It would be unwise for me to believe I have “THE” answer, simply because there is no one way to skin this cat. What works for me won’t work for some. However, I have recognized that those who have a regimen and stick to it religiously have awakened in the midst of fewer cold sweats than those who are still searching for the light.

Bling: A Planet Rock (Sep. 5 & 6)

2007-09-04T10:50:00.000-04:00

Sep 5 & 6

Following its sold-out screenings at BAM's Creatively
Speaking program, Bling returns to BAM for an exclusive two-day run.

Bling: A Planet Rock (2007) 90min
Wed, Sep 5 at 4:30, 6:50*, 9:30pm
Thu, Sep 6 at 4:30, 6:50, 9:15pm
*Q&A with Raquel Cepeda

To buy tickets click here

I'd love to meet up with some folks to hit up the Wednesday 6:50 screening so if you're interested, let a brother know.