Tag Archives: blackness

Aw Hell, The BET Awards Came On Again

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I've really got to meet more white people so I can do MTV instead.

I remember a few years ago, BET seems to have begun to turn a corner. The Awards show which had long been associated with pure f*ckery and general shame had almost gained a bit of legitimacy.

But with Twitter at its apex, BET decided to have as much ridamndiculousness as possible this year. And you know what that means: Black Twitter almost exploded. Luckily BET always has a gospel segment which is where 90 percent of people check out and go to the bathroom, buy some drugs, or call their mothers.

By the way, as I’m writing this I just heard somebody say that Patti LaBelle’s voice is the most powerful voice on earth. Ain’t that right, boo? #true

Anyway, I had no intention of writing about the BET awards, but since I decided to watch it, I feel compelled because of the amount of f*cksh*t I’ve observed. So allow me to tell you about a little of it…my observations.

Why did Cee-lo put on a porcupine, feather, cap wig and purple shoes…THEN have the nerve to curse while wearing the gayest pastor coat in history?

Marsha Amborsius – bless her heart – has no booty whatsoever. I often wonder if women with no booty go to sleep every night and hope to wake up with a booty. Not even a big ole ass, just something well proportioned to the rest of her body. I’m a formerly Black man (thanks to Cee-lo and his get up I quit the Black race) so the hindparts are necessary to some extent. Marsha does have nice legs though with her spray on tan.

What the f*ck was up with everybody singing off key? It’s like everybody forgot to do a sound check AND the sound engineer quit right before the show over money. Alicia Keys sounded a little more of husky voice than usual AND was off key. Basically she sounded like The-Dream if he were to ever hit puberty.

Speaking of WTFness, what was up with all the profanity during the show? Aren’t they supposed to do the clean versions of songs? And if you’re going to do that for a Black awards show, you need a 30 second delay, not a 2 second delay like they were using. I feel like my TV cursed me out. And I didn’t like it. Stop it, television. I bought you TAKE THE FADE N*GGA!!!! TAKE THE FADE!!!!

I love how Chris Brown made a joke at his own expense. I really think that Chris Brown can totally redeem his career if he keeps on putting out dope music (which he’s been doing) and learns to enjoy life and laugh at himself and stays far and far away from all forms of social networking that don’t require him to run his words through at least 2 PR reps and a white woman.

Ain’t gonna lie to you, I’d marry Patti LaBelle right now. Jill Scott too. Oh and by the way since we’re talking about necks (we are now), can somebody find Gladys Knight’s neck? Did a Pip take it?

I don’t know if you all know how much I hate Kelly Rowland’s song “Motivation”. But I do. A lot. I think she sounds like pure D sh*t singing on it. And yet, her live rendition was…well, dope. She gave one of the better vocal performances that I’d seen during the night. Amazing. I’d totally bang her out.

Johnny Gill. Stop it.

Steve Harvey, for all of the non-sense we attribute to him really is worthy of getting an award for being a humanitarian. He hasn’t personally made my life any better but I’m sure somebody’s gotten further along because of him. And dude really does care about family values and manhood. It’s why he’s keeping so many women single…so he can focus on the men. <—-its like I just praised him AND threw him under the bus at the exact same time. Panama? Stop it.

I don’t care what anybody says, Rick Ross looked like he lost 738 pounds with that white Louis Vuitton suit he had on. I could barely see him. He was like a sliver of his former self. Wait…what?

The Nicki Minaj and Justin Beiber exchange was about as awkward and inappropriate as you can get at an awards show before somebody calls the police. Between that and Lil Wayne et al. bringing out a bunch of 12 year olds while singing, “…I wish I could f*ck every girl in the world…” last year (or a few years ago whenever), the entire Young Money camp needs to be on somebody’s watchlist. Not like a terrorist list, but a list nonetheless.

That poor Viewer’s Choice winner announcer, I won’t even add her name here…man she f*cked up so royally. Like, there are f*ckups but then there are f*ckups like she had. Thing is I couldn’t even tell who’s fault it was. I think I’ll just blame BET, because well, anytime BET is a possible culprit, it’s BET’s fault. Thing is…after she f*cked up and knew she f*cked up…she should have said something like, “go f*ck  yourself San Diego”, “Dip Set b*tch” or “Suck it” then threw the mic on the ground and walked off. You know you’ve done bad when even Drake won’t hug you and sing you a song about his insecurities.

This Beyonce performance sh*t was SUCH a copout but genius marketing move on her part. She doesn’t have to do anything but add an extra camera to her set to stream back to the BET awards. All it cost her was a “what’s up BET” shoutout. Oh well, that’s why BET stays losing. That and because Debra Lee buys her dresses from Lowe’s. Add to the fact that this was CLEARLY not live since ya know, its like 4am in London town when that aired.

Speaking of Beyonce, and I feel like we mentioned this here before…she might be the hottest celebrity that I have no desire ever to want to see naked. I’d be much more inclined to see Kelly in the buff with her legs reaching for the sky than Beyonce. She has like zero sex appeal to me. That is odd, like a Lil Wayne outfit. By the way Wayne, Andre 3000 called, he asked if you’d stop stealing his 1998 steez and be original.

I think that’s enough for now…sound off. I know you watched the Awards….good, bad, ugly?

What were your observations?

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka BLACKASAURUS JONES aka GIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

 

 

 

 

Fighting The Power With Radio Ruckus

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Jesse? Jesse, dat you at the frigidaire???

(If you have iTunes, click this link to the Jesse Lee Peterson Radio Show and our episode is labeled “Tragedy of Black Babies” LOL. We are the last hour and start at about the 1: 28 mark.)

I didn’t want to do this interview. Let me state that upfront. In fact, when we got the initial email showing interest in having Champ and myself on the Jesse Lee Peterson show, my first reaction was, who in the hell is Jesse Lee Peterson and what part of Arkansas is he broadcasting from.

But it turns out Mr. Peterson, Jesse Lee that is, is a quite well-known and accomplished (political leanings aside and dbaggery aside, but I’ll get to that) speaker and organizer. Then came the Wikipedia page that convinced me that I was right. Mind you I’d never heard of this dude before but his list of accomplishments amazed me. This ninja thinks Obama hates white people, thanks white people for slavery, started an actual Anti-Jesse Jackson day (jury’s out on whether or not this is a good or bad thing), is a Republican, right wing extremist and conservative. And he’s a reverend. Basically, this motherf*cker is Uncle Ruckus’ ordained cousin, Rev. Ruckus.

At this point, I decided I need to seek counsel from everybody except my father who I’m pretty sure would curse me out for even considering doing this ninjas show. I talked to family members who all told me not to do it, but at the end of the day, Champ and Liz convinced me that this might be a good idea. At the very least we could have fun and if there was ever an opportunity to do some crime-fighting, this would be it.  But I felt dirty. And for the most part, my gut was right.

With that said, here are ten things that I learned while actively participating in both the best and worst radio interview and convo we’ve been apart as VSB…

1. First rule about doing a radio interview with a ninja named Jesse Lee Peterson is don’t do a radio interview with Jesse Lee Peterson.

I don’t think the guy’s a bad guy, but wow, even before we got on the horn with him I thought he needed to have Siemen’s furniture. From the outset of the show, my suspicions were confirmed. Which brings up another point…

2. There’s no way you can truly prepare for somebody who’s entire opinion and reason to be is in direct contradiction to everything you believe in life.

I imagine this is what rappers feel like visiting shows like Bill O’Reilly or what a convo with Glenn Beck would feel like. Which is interesting, I always wondered how they always seemed to have a leg up on their guests, but when you control the convo and aren’t answering questions yourself, you have that power. We somehow ended up on the defensive for the majority of that convo. Which is fine, defense wins games. But I’ll concede that he definitely tripped me up a few times…like…

3. Apparently Jesse Lee hates Black women.

Grandiose statement? Perhaps. But I’ll be damned if his presumption that most Black women are angry didn’t lead me down that path. Then again, it’s all perspective. Was he talking about the angry Black women stereotype, or legitimate anger that women can’t seem to find good men (or at least that’s what the media is telling us.) Who cares, his whole premise, initially, was that all Black women are angry. To the point where the motherf*cker asked Champ how he deals with his girlfriend’s anger.

Point here is…

4. Just because you have a Black name doesn’t mean you give two f*cks about Blackness.

In his own way, Rev Ruckus thinks he’s doing a service to Black people by exposing our faults. And he would be if he wasn’t blowing white folks in the process. Oops, did Panama just say that? Yes he did.

5. Apparently I don’t even know my own mother.

The fact that I actually got into a spirited debate with somebody about my own mother is beyond me. Which brings me to something I realize more and more when we do these interviews. We get a lot of softball questions. The first time somebody came throwing boulders, I was so taken aback (not so much that he was going to, I expected that, but how quickly out of the gate he came with it) that I actually got suckered into a dumb a** argument about my mother, a woman I’ve known my whole life. Next time, kick rocks donkeynuts.

6. While I definitely got pissed at one point, I actually found the interview to be more comical than anything.

People who know me in real life know I get amped. Like all the way turnt up amped. I rarely back down and I go in all the way. Arsonist is not just a nickname, it’s a way of life. So it took all kinds of restraint for me to be easy. Though every time I called him “bruh” or “brutha” I’m pretty sure I was really calling saying “n*gga”.

7. I’ve never sent more “is this n*gga serious” text messages in my life.

I was both tweeting and texting during the interview. I actually had to mute my self a few times just to laugh because of the pure ridiculousness of this mofo. Not only did he twist some of our words up, he also created our own conclusions for us. But then again, I know I put dude in a position to do so by not being as direct as possible. Its like media-training-by-fire. I’m learning so much. Next time a motherf*cker asks me a question, forget what I think the answer should be, all direct all the time. “Hey Panama, should I jump off of this bridge?” “Yes, Jesse Lee, you should. No question.”

8. I found myself asking myself, who the f*ck was he listening to?

More than once he put words in our mouths…um….but the “are you a good man?” question where we both said yes, and he comes back from commercial break like “well one of you said no and the other said maybe” baffled me. I watched Crackheads Gone Wild on DVD yesterday morning and THAT exchange with Rev Ruckus was the most baffling thing that happened to me yesterday.

9. I’ve learned that research is important.

While on the call, I texted Liz to ask her to find out if he was married because I wanted to go there on this dude. But I couldn’t confirm one way or another and I didn’t want to hear, “this isn’t about me, this is about you and the BS answers you both are giving.” Which he basically said when he alluded to, “why are you guys doing this since neither of you knows how to give solid answers or provide anything worthy of note for anybody, much less lab rats, hoodrats, or big booty Judy’s named Bertha. Next time, I’m gonna have a freakin’ Match.com profile sheet pulled on anybody who wants to question our credibility.

10. I don’t actually disagree all that much with his stances on things.

Well at least I don’t disagree with his ability to have countering opinions to my own. I’m obviously more liberal than I thought, which is cool. Legalize weed. But that’s the problem with liberals…we generally just want people to live and let live. Conservatives not only think that’s bullsh*t, they want to talk about why it’s bullsh*t. No wonder why hippie music died out. Everybody became Republican and started hating on the younger generations. It’s the ciiiiiiiiiiircle of life. Oh, except his BS assertion that men have no business discussing or communicating their personal issues towards women. Cromagnon arse ninja.

I felt like this was worth sharing. A sort of director’s cut of behind the scenes imagery of what’s going on in the mind of folks while we’re doing these interviews and stuff. I’ve long felt like we could do a Behind The Blog on VSB and it would be the most entertaining sh*t ever.

Sharing is caring.

If you listened, any thoughts? Criticisms? Surprises? Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

8 Real Reasons Why Black Women Should Date White/Non-Black Men

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I jacked this from Madame Noire. A white man wouldn't do that.

I’m convinced that LaShaun Williams and therefore Madame Noire just spoofed Black America. In fact, I’m so convinced of this fact that you cannot convince me otherwise. You could tell me that you have beachfront property in Kansas for sale and I’d believe that before I believed that article was intended to be serious. I’m fairly sure that the author has been told to go f*ck herself so many times in life that she decided to take a chance to piss off the reading ninja massive for sh*ts and giggles.

Plus, as a person who often times writes complete and utter bull malarkey, I know non-sense when I see it. The article, “8 Reasons to  Date a White Man” AKA the article heard around the powder room was pure and utter biship. But then I got to thinking – as a thinker, I’m prone to thinking – and realized that despite her non-sense and clear disdain for Black people, she’s right. Just for all the wrong reasons.

If she was serious, to say that white men aren’t looking for somebody to take care of them because more of them come from stable backgrounds, etc just proves that she’s never watched Ricki Lake, Jerry Springer, or CNN’s White in America series aka The News. Actually, each and every point that she outlines proves that she either has the most selective data pool in history or has only spent her life watching BET and reading Black Tail…and never watched day time television talk shows.

Oh yes, why is she right? It’s common knowledge that Black women should open up their dating pool since Black men have. I love loyalty, it was a great song on GangStarr’s Moment of Truth album, but it pretty must stops there. So as a service and in support of our wayward sister with the really Black name from Madame Noire, here are 8 serious reasons as to why Black women should date non-Black men (I couldn’t just say white, I mean there are at least 2 other races that Black women should consider).

1. Don’t have to worry about anybody using the word swag all the time…or having any of it

I don’t know about you, but I’m so tired of hearing about swagger, so imagine how our women must feel . Dudes running up on them talking about their self-esteem going through the roof and how they got their swag. And since for the most part nobody else has that swag that Black men have and talk about, you can live a life without all that unnecessary charisma and “thing” that Black men have. It’s SO useless.

2. Smaller wangs

I’m a Black dude so I assume the myth is true. Why is this a good thing? Ladies, aren’t some of you tired of getting poked in your stomach every time you and your man get it on? Ulcer my arse. It’s all that Clarence Carter endorsed stroking that you’re doing with your the real Mandingo in the family. If you go date Small Wang, you are in the clear for some concentrated area boning. No more pain. Plus, the walk of shame always looks worse when you got the blowlegged he-stabbed-me-officer walk going on.

3. Less emotional and more logical reactions

As a Black man, I’m required to assume everything that has a possible racial component to it, DOES have a racial component to it. You know who doesn’t think like that? White people and Asians who are considered white people. You can have your mind expanded into a world where its completely plausible that you didn’t get the job because that other person was more qualified. Who wants to sit around and talk about race all day anyway when there’s global warming and Greenpeace to talk about.

4. A movie library that doesn’t include Menace II Society

Face it, you grew up in Chilllicothe, Ohio, not Compton and you don’t understand why people love and glorify this movie. It wasn’t your life and you can’t appreciate it the way that all the “brothas” do. Time to venture out. Who the hell is Mc Eiht anyway, and why is there no “g” in his name? Pishaw.

5. You didn’t go to an HBCU and they didn’t either

Common ground thy name is education. What’s the big deal about homecoming and marching bands anyway?!

6. You like Friends more than A Different World…

…what a surprise, so does everybody else! The ability to relate is at the top of everybody’s list and non-Black guys TOTALLY get Friends and Seinfeld and whatever a Bobcat Golthwait is.

7. VSB is generally as Black as you want to get in your life. You can’t do that if you date a Black man.

SAME FOR THEM! Appreciation from afar is not only a motto, it’s a way of life.

8. Only a White man can truly appreciate the depth of The Color Purple

All the Black men you know think its a comedy. Wait, it’s not? Black men don’t understand the plight of the Black woman but a white man can appreciate what you bring to the table unlike any brother really can, as evidenced by his love for The Color Purple (true story). Hey sucka ni**a, wherever you are…you just lost one.

So good people of VSB, while Mrs. Williams article was f*ckery, what are some other real reasons that Black women should date non-Black men?

Help a sista out.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka VITAMIN P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

What Friendship Means To Me, By Panama Jackson

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Here at VSB, we spend a lot of time talking about relationships between men and women, man and nature, and the most important, Soulja Boy and Edgar Allan Poe. Relationships are the cornerstone of community. This is fact. But you know one of the most important facets of any relationship is? Having real friends to keep your dumb a** in line when you do something stupid or who can keep you level headed whenever you feel as if you’ve been wronged or unrighted, depending on if you ever made it past 6th grade.

All this talk about friends has made me hungry. Except that’s not true at all. But it did get me to thinking about how you know somebody is really your friend as opposed to just some random associate. Of course, this could vary between men and women but I assume that we all have some ways of knowing who our real friends are. Allow me to provide a few ways:

1) You’d ask them to check your email for you

Say you get caught out there and you need somebody to go in your email right quick. Shucks, I’ve had girlfriends I wouldn’t even ask to do that, but my homies? Sure. No problem. There’s something about email. Heck, I don’t even want the Pope up in my emails. I just can’t trust him not to check out that folder entitled “Things You Shouldn’t Look At If Your Name Ain’t Panama Jackson”.

2) Like email, you’d let them check your bank account balance

Whew…this one is major because letting somebody know how money you have is generally a major nono. I remember asking my dad how much money he made once and he cursed me out mumbling something about grown folks business and getting the monkeyshine sh*t slapped out of me for every talking bad about Jesus again. And I’m not even Lil B. I don’t even look like Jesus. If I did, I wouldn’t say so either.

3) They can come into your home and go into the refrigerator without asking

One of my best friends from high school would do that. Walk right into the house and go to the fridge and nobody batted an eye. I had an ex try to do that after being at my house no less than 100 times and my mother kindly asked to speak to her in another room and said something about disrespect and slapping the monkeyshine sh*t out of somebody that looked like Jesus. I’m still not sure who that person is.

4) They can hang out with your sister/brother and you don’t worry about anything popping off

I have a bunch of sisters and I have boys who I’d trust to take them to the movies (no Bangs). Well, that is unless they were trying to take them to like a dollar movie that had old Red Shoe Diaries episodes or some such f*ckery involved. But hey, you can’t win them all and you cannot dance unless there is music. Though, the prevailing thought is that you should dance as if nobody’s watching and if nobody’s watching then there’s probably not a DJ so maybe you’re dancing to the song in  your heart. Our soul. I’m confused.

5) You wouldn’t bang their girl (guy)

This might be a guy thing, but your real homeboys…you wouldn’t even consider banging their girl. That’s the true measure of friendship. I’m not sure this one holds true for women since anecdotally, women can be some uber trifling and conniving individuals when it comes to sleeping with comrades. I’ve seent it with my own two eyes before. Shucks, I’ve had the roommate of an ex ATTEMPT to sleep with me before. Good thing she looked like Norbit. Eeeeew.

My good friends of VSB, what let’s you know that somebody is really your friend?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka TANGLE JIG P aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL, HE A 3

Where The Wild Things Are: Places Ni**as Shouldn’t Be Able To Go Without Rules

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Sad to say, but a lot of you ninjas don’t know how to act. I’d love to say that’s an opinion, but really, that is more factual than anything you’ll find on Wikipedia. Well, it seems that some locales in New York City have come to realize this very fact, namely, Chuck E. Cheese. To wit:

Harlem’s Chuck E. Cheese is now a maximum-security play penitentiary.

As they enter the arcade and pizza parlor “where a kid can be a kid,” parents and their young children are given a list of prohibitions more stringent than Rikers Island’s.

“No gang-style apparel, including but not limited to hats, shirts, buckles, bandanas, towels,” reads an enormous sign installed last month.

“No gang-type conduct or behavior, including verbal slogans, greetings, hand signs or intimidation. No weapons or tools or any sort whatsoever; including knives, chains, screwdrivers, glass cutters.”

By comparison, visitors to Rikers Island are not banned from wearing gang colors, but skimpy or “see-through” garments are prohibited.

Oh, the places we will go. Of course, I’d love to call racism (it is, I mean it’s only the Harlem branch), but I’ve been to the Magic Johnson’s theater in Harlem when folks started acting a damn fool on some gangbanger stuff. Not to mention the Applebee’s in Bed-Stuy on Fulton that required me to remove my hat as it could be construed as a gang-symbol. Or the Ruby Tuesday’s here in DC that doesn’t sell dark liquor since that’s what usually incites ninjas to act like, well, ninjas. They do still serve light liquor though.

Common sense be damned.

Either way, I figure for the sake of argument that you know what, there are some places where rules are necessary because face it, we all have family members who just don’t know how to act. And some ninjas just can’t HELP but be ignant. I’m convinced it’s a gene. So I brainstormed some other places some ninjas just shouldn’t be able to go unless rules are instated. Follow me. Continue reading →