On Mourning An Adult Entertainer

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The deaths of Hank Gathers and Reggie Lewis were probably the celebrity deaths that hit me the hardest. Part of this had to do with age. (I was 11 when Gathers passed and 14 when Lewis did.) But, even more than that, I felt connected to them. I didn’t know either of these men. But they were basketball players, like me. And they both died on what was supposed to be the safest, friendliest, and happiest place a basketball player can be: the basketball court. Both deaths saddened and scared the fuck out of me. (Sadly, my friend and former teammate Richard Jones died in a similar manner 10 years ago.)

I mourned them through memory. I (obviously) didn’t have the benefit of going to YouTube and watching old highlight clips, so instead of remembering them as they were in their last moments, I’d think of how they were on the court. And I’m sure many of the hundreds of thousands who also mourned their deaths did so in a similar manner.

This process wasn’t too dissimilar from how most of us mourn entertainers. Instead of thinking of them as dead, we tend to recall and reflect on the reasons why we were fans. We listen to their albums again, read their books again, watch their movies again, laugh at their stand-up routines again, read and watch all the features and interviews about them again; sometimes we’ll even scour the earth to possess all the things they produced that we don’t already possess. And sometimes, their deaths will make us consume even more of their work. 

We do this for two reasons: One, because it helps us feel better. We want to remember and embrace why we were fans because it makes us smile. The smiles are bittersweet, but they help. Also, this consumption is how we, as fans, honor their memories. We didn’t know them personally, so we can’t reflect on personal memories. Shit, in most instances we don’t even know what type of person they were. But we do know how their work resonated, and a posthumous recognition of their work is our way of eulogizing them.

With one exception.

Angela Rabotte was a 26-year-old mother who was found murdered last week. She disappeared two Fridays ago, and her body was found Thursday. She had been shot.

This by itself is a tragic story. Rabotte was a mother, a daughter, a friend, and much more. A person people loved and will miss.

But, as tragic as Rabotte’s death was, I’m writing about her today because of her (former) occupation.

Those familiar with the thousands of WorldStar/YouTube/Vimeo, etc twerking and/or stripping videos out there might recognize Rabotte as “Sexy Climax”, a popular Atlanta stripper. I’m not sure which club(s) she worked at, but I do know she was popular enough to be featured in a few WorldStar videos.

Perhaps you never heard of Climax. But you might be familiar with the Twerk Team, Cubana Lust, Lanipop, and the dozens more strippers, twerkers, video vixens, and porn stars who’ve been able to use the internet to garner some national name recognition.

Regardless of what you think of their particular type of entertainment, you can’t deny that they’re entertainers. They work to create and cultivate a sexual fantasy, and the people who consume their form of entertainment might spend as much time watching their videos as they do watching their favorite actors or listening to their favorite rappers.

But, when an adult entertainer dies, the process we use to mourn other entertainers just doesn’t seem to fit. I’ve seen Sexy Climax at work. But now that she’s dead, it just doesn’t feel right to watch her videos anymore. Same with all the other adult entertainers I’m familiar with who have passed. I don’t re-watch the videos I’m familiar with, I don’t scour the internet to find work I haven’t seen yet, and I definitely don’t fantasize about them anymore.

And I think that’s it. The fantasy part is what makes things…different. For instance, Whitney Houston existed as a singer, but we also recognized that she was a real person while appreciating her voice. Angela Rabotte was just as real of a person as Whitney Houston was. But, the people whose work revolves around sexual fantasy tend to be processed in a different way by the people who knew of them because of their work. Basically, they’re objectified. Appreciating her work posthumously the same way you appreciated it while she was alive doesn’t just feel wrong. It feels rude.

This idea transcends entertainment. Think of the cute barista in your work building or the co-worker you have a crush on. If they died tomorrow, would you still have the same sexual thoughts about them you did before? I doubt it. The nature of sex-based thoughts makes it rather, for lack of a better term, “creepy” to have them about someone no longer alive.

I’m sure there is someone out there who’s compiling an archive of Sexy Climax’s work. To honor her memory the way he (or she) remembered her. Which is their right, of course. But, I can’t do that. Because every time I think of Sexy Climax now, I think of Angela Rabotte instead.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Going Nowhere Fast, We’ve Reached Our Climax

Heed the signs ninja.

One of my absolute favorite songs right now is Usher’s “Climax”. For various reasons: 1) its a sadly beautiful song that most people I’ve talked think has to do with sex, which I find humorous; 2) Diplo did the beat and I’ve never heard him make something so subdued and sleek; and 3) I’m just glad to hear Usher back making quality music instead of chasing trends. Usher’s had a fairly non-monumental go of it the past few years. Culminating in him jumping on the dance-music craze and making songs where the artist doesn’t matter at all because the music is what people know. Though, I can’t front “OMG” was my sh*t. But you could have given that to David Hung and it would have been a hit.

The main reason though (aside from just being dope) is because I’ve been there. The lyrics of the song are about two people who have basically reached the apex of their relationship and are letting go because the lows kept getting in the way of the highs. And neither person wants to give in so they let go. And sometimes, that’s what you have to do.

This might go against what everybody always preaches about the ability to work through things and that being the true definition of love. And maybe it is. But the TRUTH of the matter is that sometimes, you’ve made it as far as you can as a unit. Sometimes the best relationship decision that you can make is to “love each other separately”.

Every relationship has highs and lows. We all know this. The only way to thrive in those relationships is if the highs are higher than the lows are lower. For some odd reason, people seem to have an issue with letting go though. No matter how low we’ve been, we just need one high to convince us that we can regain all of those high moments that we had. We’re all relationship crackheads. One hit of possibility can erase all impasses we see in front of us. At least temporarily. But it allows us to believe in the potential. We have to right? That’s how we even got there in the first place, the potential. But maybe, just maybe, there is a climax to certain relationships.

I think most people know if the relationship they are in can make it. Or they at least have some idea. A lot of us hold on because we don’t know how to let go so we just stick around for whatever reason hoping to be convinced in one direction or another. That’s a somber way to look at relationships, but I don’t know that its totally off. Yes, you have people who are absolutely crazy in love and thats beautiful and something to aspire towards. You also have people who KNOW they should let go but refuse to do so for whatever reason. And that’s not a man or woman thing, its a people thing. We refuse to believe what we know; that we’ve gone as far as we can with this person because we’ve gone through too much to go on, and too much to go back. You’re at a place where you are ACTUALLY at the climax of your relationship.

When you get there you either choose to stay and slide back into the negativity, or you break up, move on, and miss that person while accepting that you’ve done what you had to in order to live your life being able to breathe. For many of us, love is our air. When you’re in a relationship with somebody that you love, being with that person is like breathing. For better or worse. If that relationship ends then you can’t breathe on your own…you need a ventilator of sorts which can be family, friends, a journal, etc. But eventually you have to choose to learn to breathe without that person. And that’s the circle of life. Everybody has been there. Love can make you feel 9 feet tall or make you feel as if you’ve been beaten up with a brick.

But you learn to breath again. The world ends until it starts again. And it always starts again. The key is to realize when you need to lock in for the long haul or when you need to bail so that you two can both move on and remember, but never forget. It is totally possible to go nowhere fast in a relationship. The sooner we all realize what type of situation we’re in, the better.

Recognize the climax. It’s okay to love somebody forever. But you have to realize what that love is costing you. It could be your forever.

So, VSBers, have you ever been in a relationship where you realized it had an expiration or had reached its climax? Were you able to let go for the betterment of everybody involved? Or did you have to learn the hard way?

Do tell.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. WE WERE TOGETHER, NOW WE’RE UNDONE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Not So Anti-Climatic: Signs that a woman is getting that “good good”

****Check out “Professional Jumpoffs & Ex Love,” this week’s edition of “Ask A Very Smart Brotha” at Madame Noire and see if you agree with The Champ’s advice****

Along with “Who really shot Kennedy?“, “Is there intelligent life outside of Earth?“, and “What in the everliving f*ck is going on in Lebron’s head?“, “How can you be completely certain that a woman has climaxed?is a question that seems to have no right answers; a query that causes at least 72% of all male angst and has lead to countless sleepless nights, dozens upon dozens of divorces, and several wars (What? You’re telling me you didn’t know that the Trojan War was just a contrived ploy to finally get Helen to squirt?)

While many have their theories, there really is no concrete data; no definitive and full-proof determination of a woman’s orgasm. Well, let me rephrase that. There is no definitive and full-proof determination of whether a woman is prone to orgasm, except, of course, the way she walks.

From The Frisky

According to a group of sexologists from the Universite Catholique de Louvain in Belgium, you can determine with 81.25 percent accuracy whether or not a woman has had a vaginal orgasm at some point in her life. How you, ask? By the way she walks. Researchers found that women who had experienced vaginal (not clitoral) climaxes were 80 percent more likely to walk with longer strides, greater pelvic rotation, and with leg muscles neither loose not locked, a “gait that comprises fluidity, energy, sensuality, and freedom.”

Now, whether these findings are the result of correlation or causation is unclear. You can easily make the case that women who “walk with longer strides, greater pelvic rotation, and with leg muscles neither loose not locked” just have a more confident and self-assured stride. And, since these women are probably just more confident and self-assured in general, they’re more likely to orgasm during sex.

Either way, the fact remains that this study proves that the little tidbit of advice you’ve heard from every hood barber, black uncle, neighborhood playa, pimp, and ex-con grandfather was correct: You really can tell how good a women’s p*ssy is by the way she walks.

Anyway, the “sexy walk” is just one sign that a woman is getting that good good. Here’s a few more.

At least one of her friends wants to sleep with her man

Even if a woman doesn’t necessarily advertise her perpetually broken back to her friends, the hyper-alert senses that most women possess will alert them to it. It’s almost as if they can smell it on her, like she’s wearing a special “Drenched Knickers” scent from Bath and Body Works.

If these friends happen to be black, there’s at least a 119% chance that they’ll be single, and a 2225% chance that one of them hasn’t had a quivering thigh since the series premiere of “The Closer” and wouldn’t mind sampling her man’s goods.

She’s gets an inordinate amount of male attention

You ever wonder why certain women always seem to get attention from men, wherever they go and whoever they’re with? Well, let’s just say that women aren’t the only ones who can sniff out a “sexually adept” chick. Even if we don’t realize we’re doing it, men tend to gravitate towards women give off the “I enjoy sex just as much as you do. Maybe even more” vibe.

This, btw, is exactly why I give the exact same advice to any woman who asks how to get more men to approach her when she’s at the club. Make sure to masturbate before you go out. (And, if you really want to increase your chances, don’t clean up afterwards either)

She seems to always wear skirts and dresses

Maybe “free” and confident women are more likely to wear skirts and dresses, and this freeness and confidence transfers to the bedroom. Maybe it’s a subconscious way of advertising her sexual health. And, maybe she always just needs some direct oxygen to air it the hell out. Either way, there seems to be a strong correlation between “woman who’s always rocking a dress” and “woman who’s had her bottom hit in the last 48 to 72 hours.”

I realize this assertion is completely anecdotal and unscientific, but I’m pretty certain what your answer would be if I asked you “Which woman looks like she’s having good sex on the regular?” and forced you to choose between her

and her

Anyway, people of VSB.com, do you agree with the study? Do you think that a woman’s walk can give away whether she has regular orgasms?

Also, can you think of any more signs that a woman is getting that “good good” on a regular basis?

The carpet is yours.

—The Champ

Please help keep Panama off the block and The Champ on the wagon and buy “Your Degrees Wont Keep You Warm at Night: The Very Smart Brothas Guide to Dating, Mating, and Fighting Crime”