4 posts tagged “talky”

Dear EVERYONE,

Ever, in the entire world. Yes you, and you, and Lord knows especially YOU! Please get the following statement into your heads and keep it there. Keep it right in front of your eyes as a constant reminder so I won't have to write a "Dear John" letter to the internets.

THE ONLY THING THAT BLACK PEOPLE (or People of Color, which is a term I made up evidently) ARE EVER GOING TO DO AS A WHOLE IS... (wait for it)... Here it comes.... ZOMGIZZLE UR GONNA BEE SOOOOZZZZEEE SUPRIZDED!!!!!...

BE BLACK!

Ta-Da! That's it! The only thing that we are required to do as a grouping in any way shape or form is BE BLACK! It's the only thing we're ever going to do as a consensus I kid you not.

You see EVERYONE, those annual "Black Folk Meetings" that y'all are so gung ho about? Oh you know, the ones where we elected Oprah as our Queen, Bill Cosby as our King, Rev Jesse Jackson as our Prince, and "Rev" Al Sharpton as the court jester? Yeah, didn't happen. It's a myth that was perpetrated by the additional myth that since we all have the same skin color, we also all have the same views on everything ever.

Now, now. I know where we misled you. This whole "Please stop discriminating against me based on my skin color!" thing? Kind of seems universal through the community, right? Like, the whole, "I would rather you not discount me because of my skin color. Especially if you're going to call me names or maybe arrest me or beat me or kill me because of it." thing really got y'all thinking, "Well, they seem to be really united under that front, they must have had a meeting about it sometime. Is that what the Million Man March was for? Honey, remember the Million Man march, did Jamall from next door go to that? Ask him if there was a meeting! There had to be a meeting."

Y'all? There wasn't. It's not kismet, or like, secret adapted twin language. It's just that -and I know this is going to freak you out, but still go with it- pretty much everyone in the world ever feels that way. I know, I know, but you see in addition to being "People of Color" (patent pending hoes!) we are also human. It's not just this years theme on Scrubs, it's an actual thing.

So as a whole, the only thing we as human beings who happen to be classified under a specific skin color have to do is... be that specific skin color until it doesn't matter in a negative way anymore. Seriously.

"So what does this mean for me?" you ask? Well, dearly beloved reader, what this means for you is that black people as a whole will never do any of the following:

1. Agree on the who/what/when/where/why/ and hows of THE N WORD
2. Vote Democrat/Republic or at all for that matter
3. Agree on a candidate
4. Figure out a replacement for reparations
5. Go to school
6. Be good citizens
7. Be violent and aggressive
8. Be passive and coddling
9. Forgive YOU
10. Trust YOU
11. Like YOU
12. Love YOU
13. Earn lots of money
14. Be poor
15. Use Affirmative Action
16. Believe in God
17. Care about racism
18. Care about other black people
19. Know other black people in your general area
20. Elect a "leader"
21. Like Jazz/Hip Hop/R&B exclusively
22. Love Denzel (I know, that's even hard for me to accept, but it's true)

Now I'm not completely unsympathetic. I realize that it seems like an oxymoron to have to adjust your behaviors for the betterment of an entire race of people who just can't seem to make our minds up about anything (silly us!), but really, the end of racism and discrimination isn't a give and take process.

I've been reading the reviews to my Dearest Whitefolk post by some people I had debate with and others who read but didn't comment until later. After wading through the general "SHE IS A CRAZY RACIST HERSELF SO THERE!" comments and the oddly interesting "I'm going to use this entire post to be snarky and overtly racist and then wonder why she wasn't more milquetoast and We Are the World about her rant against the very thing I'm doing right now and you know what, let's go get my ethnic husband involved because the best way to find out whether I'm racist or not is by asking the "POC" (c) that married me if I am" line of reasoning that was suspiciously common and in more than one review, I've noticed this new trend in racial processing reasoning.

...Sure, I'll agree to not be racist, but in return you have to do it my way. First, come to a freaking consensus on the word NIGGER. Yes, I said it. I am above the age of 21 and it's a silly word. If you can't figure it out why should I? Secondly, umm, we're giving you like, all free schooling? Take it and get a job. Also, I don't want any more of you people being mean to me. I'm working hard not to hate you as it is, cut me some effing slack. Once that's done, then I'll decide what I'll do to help fight racism, though by that time we'll all be equal right, so I won't have to do anything? Oh, I shouldn't have told you that part, right? That we're all just waiting for you to get over it? Yeah...

Yeah EVERYONE, not gonna happen. Least not while I still have ten fingers and enough skills to pump it out. Each and every single person needs to be dedicated to truly understanding racism. To understanding that seeming oxymorons are going to exist and sometimes the actions that we take to benefit others aren't going to be appreciated, recognized, or even wanted across the board and yet if you know you have the power to change things you should. People of Color, racial minorities, blackfolk, niggers, whatever, don't owe you any kind of explanation for why you shouldn't be racist holes. You don't get to have your racism excused because a black person was mean to you, especially when your racism affects several who were not.

And yes, this goes to white people especially. Those who still don't believe in white privilege or that anything they do has a reaction or better yet, thinks they are not being racist by not considering people of color because to consider them would be racist itself (oh the emails I've received...). It's not that hard to not be a racist jerk, seriously. And you're setting yourself up pretty well on the other side if you're actively trying not to be a racist jerk if you believe in that kind of thing. And if you don't, do you really want to be 85 in a rocking chair mumbling, "I'm NOT A RACIST!" under your breath? Then work to end it now so you won't have to. That's the end of it.

Love, Stix

ps.  I know at least one of the people mentioned in this post is going to burst at the seams about what I wrote, but I stand by it and I'm not afraid to defend it so if you want to "debate" about it some more, bring it on.  If not, that's cool too.  Won't make you any less of a racial discriminator, but it might make you feel better about yourself, and really, that's what this is all about, right?  Me making you feel good about yourself and nothing else.  Nope. not a bigger picture to be seen!

Next up: My Mom says the word "shit" a record number of times, but in the most literal sense of the word, and the existence of God is simultaneously proven and disproved during the process. Also, 7 (or 8? Was it 8?) wonderfully weird things about me.

And yes, just 8! You whores.

Video has been taken down, but he did apologize.

There's been some discussion over whether he was actually saying "faggot" or perhaps something else, and whether Jerry is a full fledged homo-hater or a man who is simply a product of his time (which there is such a thing, regardless of how trashy it is). Rob has a post investigating the spectograms (that's probably incorrect) of certain words and whatever it was Jerry Lewis said. Personally I think he was actually saying "Illiterate fag-eh- no" since we're being technical about it.

Or rather, if we also want to be realistic, he was saying "fag". However, I think through the circumstances surrounding the event you can also tell one of many things:

1) This was the attempted incorporation of a joke he didn't invent, but one he'd obviously heard-

2) a really long time ago. Not in the sense that the time frame made having inappropriate materal acceptable, but in that he'd had it rattling around in his brain long enough to not quite remember the middle, but know he had to get to the killer ending before the senility set in.

3) In fact it's safe to say he completely forgot the meat of the middle and just started throwing stuff in. You can see the mental gears turning,

"And here's your.. 'was it cousin Jimmy? He was the little brother I thought. Uncle Joe? Ah who cares, fake it till you get to the punchline, it'll kill them- did I just say 'fag'? oh-' -no."

It was then that you realized,

4) It wasn't Dean (DEAN!) who'd told him that joke, but instead Dean's insanely racist and Xenophobic (France is merde!) cousin from rural Virginia that they pay in beer to keep hidden.

5) The reason Jerry forgot this was.. well pretty self explanatory. Dean's cousin was a jerk, and you know how much the French love Jerry Lewis.

All in all I think it was a silly joke that just went horribly wrong. I don't know about the ramifications. If he'd said, "And here's the little nigger shoe shine boy" you'd best believe I'd probably have Jerry on a spit. Or I may just have sympathy on this old man (who evidently? Still alive! Who knew?) who was trying to raise money for unfortunate children and bring smiles to the faces of the world.

I'm guessing he'll be wanting one pretty soon.

Whoopi!

So Whoopi joins The View and decides to make a little splash. Only thing is, it was pretty tame. Suddenly WHOOPI SUPPORTS MICHAEL VICK!!! MICHAEL WAS CHARGED BECAUSE HE'S WHITE!!! WHOOPI TURNS THE VIEW INTO RACE DEN!! SHE'S ALREADY OUT OF CONTROL!!! WHOOPI SAYS BLACK PEOPLE LIKE KILLING DOGS!!

Seriously y'all, chill. Now I haven't said anything about the Michael Vick situation because a) I don't care that much about a1)Michael Vick, a2)dogs, a3)this country's justice system being fair or not, a4)idiots, and a5)Michael Vick being an idiot and fighting with dogs and this country's justice system. I care not one bit, but suddenly it became very important that Whoopi cared and what she had to say about it when honestly it wasn't very much.

The gist of what she said is that in the deep south dog fighting is a lot more common than you'd think. Dogs are not nearly as much for pets as for sport or work there. In many families there is no such thing as a dog being part of the family. A dog is a dog. She said that you could kind of see the light come on when Michael realized this was a very serious issue and not just something he could shrug off.

Now we know the dog fighting in and of itself didn't get him in too much trouble, or as much trouble as the illegal gambling did, but it will forever place a negative stigma on his image. Dog fighting is terrible if only for the inhumanity of it. I mean really? Is all of that necessary? Swinging dogs from chains clamped around their jaws to make them tougher, starving them, making them brutal. Many of these dogs are raised to be so vicious that when emancipated from this life of fighting they have to be put down because they become a danger to society. It just seems so ridiculous until you're a young brother looking to make some cash. Those fights pull MAJOR bank and if I were a person of lesser scruples or income you can believe I'd have Tinkerbell in the next match.

Anyhow, no where through this was Whoopi excusing Vick's actions or even standing up for him. She simply noted that it was an example of a low level culture shock. CNN and MSNBC made it look like she was wearing an airbrushed t-shirt with his likeness on it.

So in conclusion, Jerry's old and should put an era limit on his jokes, and Whoopi thinks that cultural differences are interesting. I'm off to my second job and can't think of a way to end this cleverly so I'll just leave you with this:

Cleverly.

No, your other one.

I was reading an entry by redcoast and she mentioned that supposedly the oval face shape is the most desirable. I tend to disagree. I've always been attracted to the square face shape. Strong bold jawline leading up to high luscious cheekbones. And if they're spotted with a pouty mouth in the middle it's all the better for me.

The next type I like is the heart shape which is basically half a square shape in execution, right? Actually I've noticed that many of the heart shapes I like are just head on versions of square jaws that I covet, hmm...

I've put some examples below. This was going to be all philosophical but I ran out of time so it's basically just a pic spam of people I think are hot.

Enjoy!

	Cyd Charrisse First saw her in Singing in the Rain and fell in love. She had a cute little flapper bob and legs that never end. Her cheekbones are fantastic and her chin comes to a fabulous little point. So regal and fine.
	Scott Foley I like my white boys with wide jaws and pouty lips. The anti Christo? He's beautiful.
	Meagan Goode I think she's gorgeous and these next two pics are the examples of a heart shape with her head down and then a square one with her head up.
	Meagan Goode 2 Cutie patootie.
	Regina King Classic heart shaped face.
	Sophie Okenadu (sp?) I just think she's gorgeous and love that heart shaped face.
	Adrian Pasdar Seems a little hearty from the side but he's got full on square jaw and it is darn near epic. His jaw could cut diamond and is lovely.
	Angela Bassett Kind of square jaw with a point? I'm not sure, I just think she's gorgeous.
	Angela Bassett 2 And again.
	Angelina Jolie Love her, I don't care what you say, and she's got the classic square with the point chin thing going on. She's frabulous.
	Regina King. Let's say heart shaped. I think she's absolutely beautiful.
	Mark Paull Gosselaar Zach Morris was always the shiz, with his big ole square jaw.
	Emma Grigsby Same square face with the pointy chin. She's on Hollyoaks and I think she's so adorable and beautiful but she's in love with John Paul who is so obviously gay.
	Emma Grigsby 2 The only reason we know he's gay is because he is actively trying NOT to hit that. Look at her, she's precious!
	Scott Foley 2 Pretty pouty boy.
	Gene Kelly Most of his attraction lies in his thighs of passion, but the man was a looker. Not quite square face, almost heart shaped. Gotta love a dimpled chin.
	Angelina Jolie 2 Again.
	Tyson Beckford Got dang dog.
	Tyson Beckford 2 Got dang.

Also, Gwyn's No Tramp for Tarantino's Porno

Don't encourage her Quentin. Don't fall for his crap Gwyn. Sigh...

I think what people don't understand, is that I'm tired. Mentally, physically, and spiritually drained. I've purposefully segregated myself from those I love in the pursuit of money and the ends will justify the means if only I can get there. I try to get there, every 15 hour work day is entered with the hope that should I still be alive at its closing, I will be one step closer to my beginning.

"The key," I told him, "is to go away, and then come back brand new, and hard, and victorious. Allow yourself to lose everything so you can fight unfettered in the wars that wage around you.

"Appearance is necessary, I believe in it's power. Observing is only weak if it's only, but coupled with action, it provides backing for the greatest force this world has ever seen. And it could be me."

And it could be. But until then I work, and I sleep, and I neglect those who are near and dear to my heart even going so far as to push them from my dreams so the pain becomes fantasy. I dream only of him now, and that's the way it needs to be, to get me through this seeming void.

My mother tells me -as I finish one 75 hour work week, and enter into one that will log 83- that Mother Parker is coming to stay with us this weekend and the house must be in top condition for her arrival. I tell her what I will and won't be able to accomplish during that time as well as when these actions will take place. I woke up tonight to get ready for the hotel and the first words out of her mouth are this,

"Are you going to just leave this all for me to do? You promised you would help me out, but you've done nothing but sleep, you ain't nothin' but a lazy, good for nothing-" and this is when I cut her out because if I don't I'll break. These rants are usually harmless albeit frustrating, I know she loves me and she's just tired and old, but there are times when she says the exact right thing in the exact right way that makes it feel like my decade of terror (1995-2005) is happening again and I'm just as lost and as hopeless as ever.

I lost a lot of self confidence during that time, and I'm slowly regaining it, though the stunted occurences are becoming much more sentient. Today I saw a man named Stacey and I wanted to comment, but he seemed preoccupied so I stood in silent admiration as an opportunity passed me by. Not necessarily an opportunity leading to anything productive, but a chance. Maybe for friendship, maybe acquaintanceship? Perhaps I would have offended him greatly and made an arch enemy; perhaps he would have been complimented and became the father of my children? Who knows? The moment is gone now, and it always will be.

I've found that though I live for the moment, and I anticipate it; following through to create it, or to taking advantage of it has been my current downfall. I've accepted these social defects and instead of fighting them in a place I consider to be temporary, I place them aside for the future and think of him.

I think a lot about making love to him, being with him sexually, being naked in front of him and wondering if he'll find me as beautiful as I sometimes find myself. Where I can't stand naked in front of my best friend, I believe that I could stand naked in front of a man that claimed to love me and who desired me, and I would stand tall and curvy and fat and heavy with passion for him. I think about the ways I would pleasure him, the ways I would cherish his body, and the demands that I would make for him to do the same. I would instruct him about where to kiss me, when to touch me, how hard to hold me. I want him to ask,

"Am I crushing you?" And I want to moan into his ear,

"Yes." I want to hold him, and be unafraid and uninhibited and free, but then reality plagues me. What if he doesn't find me beautiful, what if I do something that turns him off, what if this thing I've put so much weight in isn't that great? And it's not the reality of the act that eludes me -I await the smells, the tastes, the folds, the textures- it's the reality of intention. The reality of the aftermath, that the next morning, regardless of the events of the following night, I want you to hold me and tell me you love me. That's all.

I see him in every man, every day, always in my mind, and I wonder if the reality of him is capable of this. Of putting the world as we know it -with it's categories and fields and checkboxes- behind us, and loving me. Of accepting love from me. I know I can be overwhelming, and overpassionate, and dramatic, but can he see that that's what makes me perfect for him? That in my heart -where he is concerned- anything goes, and regardless of his desire to only gain when losing my heart will always be open?

That scares the hell out of him, I can tell. He'd never ever say it, but I know it does. To think of a woman being so very much in love with him to the point of her inner insanity, and not caring. So he pushes me away, and I accept it because I'm not yet ready to fight that fight. Instead I observe and watch, and plan, and wait, and hold him in my heart and in my mind.

It's rough, and scary, and sad, and sometimes it becomes a bit much so I work two jobs, and sleep, and watch tv, and ready myself for Mother Parker's arrival.

Her arrival is important because one day I will be her and I need to see her life in action on a frequent basis. I need to remember that compassion is not just an ideal and hopefully exercise it more readily. We all know that God is all about tests so I'm sure she will bring down her latest project who is Ken and who is Joey Poole Sr., and who is crazy, and who is my test.

He stayed with us briefly, and no he wasn't the crack head, or the other drag queen, or really all that terrible as much as he was confused and annoying and very, very wrong. You know those people who are so inundated in the world that they begin to reek of it? Cheap cigarrettes and stale whisky and bad cologne and regret and shame follow them wherever they go. Like, how you can see the stink of Pepe Le Pew, is how you can see the patheticness of Ken. And not just in his eyes, but in his aura, it surrounds him like atmosphere. It's not impenetrable, Mother Parker has tried and succeeded several times, but it's the fact of its weakness that makes him so frustrating.

He doesn't need God he needs a leader, and whoever leads him at that point is who he is going to follow, simple as that. And he talks a good game and speaks of how the Lord is blessing him and thank God for his little baby daughter who is living proof that God healed him and 'whoo Lawd lil sis! If you was just a few years older!' and I balk and add inside, 'and had a dick, and less breasts?' and I say this on the inside, and smile on the outside, but my heart cries out and doesn't know what to do about the people that I hold near and dear to me that I neglect for people like him.

These are the people I know, but they are not always the people I love, and they're most certainly not the people who know me. They are my deliverance, and sometimes my hindrance, but they are important to me. And soon, very soon, I will be important back.