Tag Archives: internet

Is It Me or Has The Blackosphere Run Out Of Things To Talk About?

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That's totally racism! She should leave him! Be strong sister. Beyonce teaches us this!

That’s totally racism! She should leave him! Be strong sister. Beyonce teaches us this!

This ain’t funny so don’t you dare laugh, but I think that Black thought has run out of ideas. And I’m not talking the rapper from the Roots crew. No, I’m talking the majority component of Black conversation starters and “influencers”. Yes, the Ebony’s and Essence’s and Clutch’s* and Madame Noires*, etc.

Basically, the places that Black folks congregate to discuss Black issues. VSB included though I’m going to give us a TOTALLY non-biased pass since we’re a two-man deep operation. But it seems like, actually, it IS like, there are four topics worthy of talking about in the pages of Blackness – relationships, race, pop culture, and self-empowerment.

I’ve perused all of the Black intelligentsia pages – and I realize thats probably a misnomer – and there’s very little to do with politics and health or anything that isn’t purely opinion based. This isn’t to say that I don’t think that Black folks don’t have opinions on politics or finances (Black Enterprise is one good source), but it does seem that we stay as far away as possible from those topics in some of the most popular sources for Black “material.”

Now, I’d be intentionally ignoring the elephant in the room if I didn’t point out that those sites are largely (actually totally) geared towards women and maybe the vast majority of women who might read those sites couldn’t give two f*cks with a soda on the side of a partridge in a pear tree about partisan politics, sequesters, or anything in the political realm that doesn’t include the words Michelle Obama.

It’s possible that I’m completely ignoring the impact that sites like The Root and Huff Post Black Voices have on the community at large. Either that or I only follow and pay attention to the wrong pubs, but it really does seem like no matter where I go I see the same ho the exact same ideas and posts written different ways are presented. When I visit some of my more enjoyable mainstream (read white) sites, they’re chock full of all types of topics. I mean you can read posts about the role mice play in the World Cup. Or how electricity totally f*cks up the game for ladybugs in Santo Domingo. I’m not even saying that all of the things I read are good, interesting, or worthy of reading. But there are a slew or random but fresh ideas on lots of fresh and random topics.

Maybe its just that in the Blackosphere, there aren’t a lot of larger sites dedicated to news and thought in the same way that a Daily Beast or Huff Post or Slate can be. Even on sites like The Root, it seems like all the posts bottleneck right back into the racial component. Which isn’t wrong per se. There’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s important to have the facilitators of such conversations making sure that those angles are always pursued. But we still can’t seem to get past the Big Four.

Of course, there’s always the side of the argument that shows that I’m not even close to being accurate. That there are sites out there tackling all of the important issues of the day and adding new and insightful ideas to Internet and catalog of Black thought. Which is possible, but really, I don’t think that’s the case. I’m starting to think that for the most part we like to talk about those things because its one area where our opinion is all that counts and it doesn’t require being overly informed on any topic. And if you’re attempting to appeal to the most people at one time, then broad simple topics is the bread and butter to keep folks coming back. Even here at VSB, that argument can be made.

Maybe, Black folks online really only have a few things to talk about. Or maybe those of us online creating the conversations don’t think the audiences care about anything else. Or maybe OJ didn’t do it but did it at the same damn time.

I don’t really know.

But I do have to wonder, have we run out of things to talk about in the Blackosphere?

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. I STILL NEED MY JOB aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRLLL HE A 3

That’s A Catfish!

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You aint tell me you had whiskers tho. Youse a lie and youse a cheat and I don’t want ya!

It seems like the MTV show Catfish! has taken over mainstream consciousness now. I’ve read articles about it and before I saw my first episode, no less than five people had asked me if I’d seen it.

For those who haven’t, the show is a spinoff of a documentary called Catfish created by  filmmakers Ariel and “Nev” Schulman who found himself in a long distance relationship via the Internet with a chick named Megan who ended up being an older woman named Angela who’d created a fake profile using pictures of somebody else and maintaned the lie for as long as possible, etc. Shenanigans ensue. Basically, somebody got okeydoked on the Internet.

You know, the usual.

Anyway, the documentary was spun into an MTV series where Nev helps folks connect with their Internet interests who have managed to hide their identities and come up with reasons to never meet up. Now, some of these episodes highlight a darker side of American culture: namely, many of us aren’t that bright. And are extremely, extremely naive.

It ALSO highlights how pressed people are to find love. This isn’t a bad thing mind you, but the amount of red flags people are willing to forego to maintain contact with this person they’ve rarely spoken to and largely only texted or chatted with is amazing. Oh, and in this world, Skype doesn’t exist. This is very important to remember. Or is broken. Skype breaks sometimes.

In most of the episodes I’ve seen, the person behind the love interest is never who they claimed to be and sadness usually ensues. Let’s just say you should check it out. Since so many people make connections via the Internet nowadays (Facebook, Twitter, dating sites, etc) there’s a good chance that a large number of us have met folks in real life that we were introduced to via the Internet. I can’t tell you how many folks I’ve met in the real world b/c of VSB. You know why I can’t tell you? Because it’s a lot.

Well, I figured that I’d tell you all about a few Catfish like situations I’ve found myself in. Because they do and have happened. To be fair, most of these were well before FB existed and before Google even. Yes, all of these interactions were created via the world’s first online night club…

AOL Chatrooms.

Background first. Back in the late 90s everybody was in those AOL chatrooms. I’m still friends today with some people I met in those chatrooms in the late 90s or early 2000s. Like 2000. Two people are folks I count as true friends of mine. The other good friends I’ve met online have usually come via blogging. But back then they didn’t want me now I’m hot they all want me AOL chatrooms were my sh*t. I can’t remember the names of them but they were entertaining. I do remember screennames though. I won’t put them out there like that, but I do remember.

There were two particular individuals who stuck out to me. Now remember I was back in school during this time. So I remember meeting this one young lady via one of those chatrooms and we ended up becoming friends. We’d IM at all hours and have deep convos about life and stuff. We talked a few times…

(By the way, these scenarios aren’t real Catfish moments like in the show…there’s no surprise endings like they weren’t who they said…just not what I expected or odd Internet encounters…)

…and I was like, yo, we should meet up. After all, she went to one of the other schools in the AUC (Atlanta University Center – Morehouse, Spelman, Clark-Atlanta, Morris Brown, ITC). So we set it up to meet on “the strip” the popular hang out spot on CAU’s campus. This one particular day there was NOBODY on the strip. So I’m sitting there waiting. Now, this chick told me she was an athlete. Let me rephrase…told me she “had been” an athlete. So I’m looking for a slender-ish athletic chick to come traipsing up the walk. About ten minutes after I got there comes this rather portly (not there’s anything wrong with that) young lady who looked nothing like the person as had been described to me. She walks up, introduces herself to me and we sit down. Now, I’m not a total douche so I wasn’t rude but I definitely felt untruthed to. She was like 4’11″ as well. Basically I was looking for the athlete in her. Anyway, we talk for a second then she looks at me…

…then smells me neck. All up in my personal space. Needless to say I was taken fully aback by this. I distanced myself from her at that moment and she told me that’s how she tells if people are nice. She smells their necks.

Look, I ain’t saying it aint a way to do it. I’m just feeling like there are others ways to do it, ya dig? Well, we chatted for a few more minutes and then I’m pretty sure I bounced quickly. We talked a few more times but that tailed off after a while. I’d see her around campus on occasion. But we didn’t talk much more after that as I stopped reaching out and then we faded to black. Maybe my neck stank.

Then there’s the stripper that chased me down the strip that day. (Yes that happened. And no it has nothing to do with anything).

Then there’s that chick who told me she looked like a particularly hot African-American comedienne who only sent me pics of her from the eyes up. From like 10 feet away. Who would never meet up with me. Ever.

Point is, we’ve all got stories of mishapped meetings. Or folks who weren’t who we thought they were. Hell, that’s happened here at VSB with folks thinking we were going to be different than we were. Maybe it turned out better – that did happen to me once.

Lawd did that happen once. F*cked up my whole perception of a certain American city I have since wanted to visit.

So what’s your story. Let’s get some levity on this here Friday!

No more drama!

What’s your “catfish” story?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. I AM WHATEVER I SAY I AM aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

 

My Favorite Conspiracy Theory by Panama Jackson

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Moon...or New Mexico?? You tell me.

Conspiracy. (noun). An agreement to perform together an illegal, wrongful, or subversive act.

I think too much (and I also know that I shouldn’t give too much credence to conspiracy theories).

And as is such, I tend to come up with lots of random conspiracies and non-sense that at the time may seem to make sense. Though I’d like to point out that the Law of Averages says that somewhere along the way, at least one of my rants is going to be on the money. For instance, I’m still convinced that Starbucks is indeed “the man” that we speak about in our day to day activities. I’ve never been fully convinced that West Virginia actually exists as a state but is more or less a place that aliens and white people come from and use as training grounds in case black people get too “uppity” because most normal people have never been to West Virginia nor questioned its existence.

But there is real conspiracy out there that is threatening black existence in inner cities everywhere. It is the precursor to Starbucks. It is what makes it possible for the idea of Starbucks in the ghetto to exist. It is none other than…

…the white listserv.

Yes. You read that right.

What is the white listserv?? I feel a definition coming on.

White Listserv. (noun). formerly known as the white phone call, white fax, white morse code. Created in the 1960′s and evolving over time, this white listserv is the means of communicating to white peoples (primarly WASP’s) across the nation of the neighborhoods in particular cities that are scheduled to be relieved from Blacks and/or Latinos control and transformed into inner city urban enclaves of gentrification and just all around whiteness. Synonyms: Starbucks.

Let’s examine this shall we? Yes, let’s. In the beginning there were neighborhoods. Inner city neighborhoods. They consisted of mostly white people and black people were confined to the slums and ghettos of the city. One day, a lone black man, let’s call him, James, made some money and started the trend of other black folks making money and decided to move to where the white people were. They didn’t mind one black face and James seemed nice enough. His wife was high yaller and his kids could read. But more black folks made money and followed James. And it started happening throughout the country.

We reached the residential tipping point. So what did white people do? Created suburbs and got the hell out of dodge. So now the slums just moved to where ever James was because as is fact, when everybody finds paradise, it ceases to remain paradise.

Say it unison with me: Damn damn damn James.

This occurred for a good 30 years.

Well one day circa 1980, James’ old neighbor, let’s call her Jenny, decided that she wanted to move back in to the city. That’s where all the amenities and services were, as well as the parks, black men, and Icey’s. But Jenny wasn’t sure where to move because all of the neighborhoods were inhabited by les negroes. She asked a friend who asked a friend and that’s when it happened.

The first white phone call. The call intended to tell Jenny where a prime spot would be to move because they were taking it over. Who is they?? The white people. She was told the area, found a place and moved in and lo and behold, the neighborhood changed. This situation began to occur in major cities everywhere but more slowly and with more subtlety and to mostly fringe areas close enough to the suburbs but still in the city.

Now they’re everywhere. Now they’re in neighborhoods that only a few years ago white people wouldn’t dream of walking thru for fear of being robbed in their sleep. But lo and behold, there they are. Walking down Georgia Avenue in Washington, DC; or Atlantic Avenue or Fulton Street in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn; or down Lowery Blvd (though it will forever be Ashby Street in my heart) in Southwest Atlanta’s West End community. You know those places where seeing a white person initially made you do a complete double take; one that almost made you crash.

However, there they were walking their dogs or jogging as if they didn’t realize they were playing with their lives.

These are all people who today get “the e-mail.” Yes that one from the white listserv who told them that if they bought in now, they would see tremendous gains on their property value becasue the neighborhood was going to be flipped into an inner city enclave of diversity, though the goal would be 65 percent persuasion and 35 percent unpersuasion. If they could live with it for 2 years tops, their dreams of inner city living complete with all that the city has to offer would become a reality.

They took up the offer.

And it’s still going on across America right now. White e-mails are being sent out left and right. Neighborhoods that normally would be be black through and through are now becoming enclaves where white people feel safe because they got the email. It’s my thought that somehow when you’re born and receive a Social Security Number, that they tag you if you match the necessary criteria. They have some white indicator. This same white indicator pushes you to different white listservs if you marry a black person and have black children. You’re priority becomes different…however you’re still on the list and when you receive that first email, they make you pledge to never tell a person of color, unless your husband or wife is indeed, colored.

All thanks to the white listserv…existing in a community near you.

So um, yea, that’s my favorite conspiracy theory…what’s yours?? You read books, I know you’ve got one!

HAPPY GEMINI SEASON!

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. GET YO’ HAND OUTTA MY POCKET aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

***DC PSA: For all you suckas that don’t know, on June 2, 2012, VSB is bringing you another edition of the monthly party dedicated to all 90s everything: REMINISCE. Except this June edition is extra special because it’s not only the Gemini Birthday Bash…it’s also PANAMA’S BIRTHDAY!! So If you’re in DC, please come out and celebrate Panama’s birthday with him so he can personally thank you and try not to take so many shots that he passes out and doesn’t remember the evening! And remember…it’s free before 11pm with RSVP (link coming soon), open bar from 930-1030pm, and no dress code. It’s the best damn house party at a club in the city!! Wear shorts! Be comfortable. And party with Panama!!!!***

Social Networking Intraux Pas: Don’t Do This

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Don't need no words.

While everybody here doesn’t live their entire life like its golden, quite a few spend hours camped out on the Internet. Some folks camp out here at VSB and other sites intended to inspire discussion. Others nestle down on sites that let you buy things you don’t need like that V-neck thong I saw some chick rocking here in DC a few weeks back. What is a V-neck thong?

It’s pretty much what happens when the tortoise and the hare start the race and a honeybadger comes through not caring AND not giving a sh*t.

Exactly. Point is a lot of us spend a lot of time online. And that means that many of us will begin to meet people online. Some folks use dating sites. I happened upon this article on CNN yesterday about called “Online dating? Why no one wants you” that listed a bunch of ways to turn somebody off by the initial message you sent to somebody via a dating site. To wit:

1). The generalizer

Example: hey, wuts up?

Why no one wants you: You’re probably stupid. Or possibly illiterate. What’s going on with you? Something cool? OK, tell him/her about that, instead. Nothing at all? Go out and cultivate a hobby of some sort, and then get back to us.

Guffaw.

That article got my wheels turning. The big wheels kept on turning. Then we were rolling. Rolling. True story, I’ve met a significant number of individuals online. And nearly all of them because they’ve tracked down my AIM and well, AIM’d me. Some successfully, some unsuccessfuly. I’m guessing this is a story many of us can relate to. Especially since so many people have become interested in meeting the very people they follow on Twitter or in comments sections of websites. Either way, much like the first impression dating site intro, I’m sure people have spent significant amounts of time looking like idiots with the random social network connect. So I figured I’d share some similar, but specific ways folks f*ck up that entire potential. Basically the kind of people that don’t get contacted back.

And by the way, some of these will be actual examples of connections gone wrong, perhaps we can call them AT&T ninjas. Bong Bong.

1. “Hi!”

In today’s day and age of baby theft and gorillas taking over the planets, you’ve got to show up with more in your initial greeting than a “hi!” homey. I’m bound to assume that you’re some sort of hi-bot sent to infiltrate my computer system and if I respond back with anything I’ll inadvertently send out some sort of supervirus that will expose all of the hidden children and wives. Plus since I don’t really f*ck with Southwest Airlines like that (I’m more NWA), I won’t feel free to move about the country. I don’t like Snickers either. So I’m mad short. Skeelo.

2. “yo, i read vsb. dm me.”

Yo, me too. I read that sh*t. Can I ask a serious question, what in blue blazes would make anybody think that would be a good way to get me, Panama Dontavious Jackson, to want to talk to you? No dis or anything but that’s retarded. Can’t lie, I tried that sh*t on Rihanna. I @’d her that “I liked S&M. DM me” No response. Perhaps I should have thrown Chris Brown under the bus or something but I kind of feel like you can only try once. Oh well. Chris Brown stays winning anyway, I would have felt dirty. Beautiful people.

3. “You don’t know me but I love your site. I go there everyday. Slim Jackson is my favorite writer.”

Slim if you’re reading. You’ve got a fan out there who thinks you write for VSB. Pretty sure it’s the whole Jackson thing. And this one actually happened. I responded back with “wrong group of reading n*ggas, but thanks for supporting Blackness.” By the way, I’m sure this young lady was lovely but in one fell swoop she proved that she doesn’t read OR pay attention. Womp womp womp.

4. “I think I just saw Panama Jackson at XXX’s.”

This has nothign to do with anything, but let me tell you something, that sh*t is scaaaaaaaaaary. Mostly because it never happens at the club. I’ll be at a specific CVS and my phone will buzz and I’ll see that “404-04″ that I’ve changed to read “Twitter, B*tch” in my phone and “Just saw @panamajackson buying some Charmin Ultrasoft, but wasn’t sure if it was him so I didn’t want to stab the wrong person. Hi @panamajackson!”

For the record, people, people, people, if you do see me out, holla at me. That takes the edge off. I won’t bite you. Unless we ever make it to 2nd base. Or is that 3rd base? I can’t remember.

Bong bong.

5. “Do you want some nude pics?”

My bad, that one is the winner.

Anyway, it’s Friday. Let’s enlighten the masses. What are the most obnoxious and ridiculous ways people can turn you off trying to contact you via social networking? Let’s help the children.

Atari 2600.

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

PS Sending extra special prayers and wishing everybody on the East Coast under the threat of Hurricane Irene best of luck this weekend as we all hope that the storm doesn’t negatively impact the lives of too many. I need EVERYBODY to show up on Monday talking about surviving the hurricane. Everybody, dammit. Real talk…be safe people.

the goggles (extended)

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***in june, the champ blessed the people of vsb.com with his in-depth look at the opposite sex altering goggles, the deadly accessory known to turn demons to dimes and a-holes to adonises. today, the champ has decided to add a couple more goggles to your lexicons, doing his best to help people and fight crime. enjoy and sh*t***

BEER GOGGLES

the phrase that started it all, it describes the phenomenon that occurs when you’re drunk and horny and every scalawag you noticed at the bar when you were sober all of a sudden becomes your own personal dulcinea, waiting to be plucked away and placed on your quixoteesque steed. their attractiveness also goes up exponentially in direct correlation with the amount of time left before the bar or club closes, and the amount of “success” you had that night. in equation form,

V (number of drinks you’ve had that night)

divided by

X (number of hours left before the bar closes) * Y (number of phone number’s you’ve received that night) +1

equals

Z (the thickness of the goggles)

going by this formula, if you’ve had 5 drinks, and there was 1 hour left before closing, and you had only received 1 phone number so far that night, your goggle thickness would be 2.5, a high level, but still a bit under the dangerous 4. people at 4 and above are at the point to where they’ll approach and take/go home with people who they probably wouldn’t even sit next to on a bus if they were sober. this is where people hump and give lapdances to empty barstools

the effect of Beer Goggles also depends greatly on your friends, or, more specifically, which type of friends they are. in this case, they come in three categories

A) good wingmen and women who’ll see that you’re wearing thick Beer Goggles, and will do everything in their power to thwart you and your drunken advances

B) good wingmen and women who’ll see that you’re wearing thick Beer Goggles, and will do everything in their power to encourage you, knowing that it will make for a spectacular future story, as well as potential leverage. (“okay man. You win. I’ll let you borrow the flatscreen for the fight as long as you don’t tell anybody about last saturday night”)

C) they’re too drunk themselves to even notice

Beer Goggle plusses: other than the possibility of easy sex with a possible vagrant…none. unless, of course, you love being the butt of jokes and making frequent trips to the free clinic

Beer Goggle minuses: pretty much every worst-case sexual scenario you can imagine becomes a possibility.

Verdict: basically, if you’re caught wearing these repeatedly… you need to either stop drinking, or find some better friends.

INTERNET GOGGLES

those who have had the misfourtune of wearing these know that they’re probably the most potent form of goggle yet. an uber goggle. an anthrax goggle. it occurs when you’ve been corresponding through blogs, email, chat, or Instant Messenger with someone you’ve never met in person. sometimes these conversations can last hours into the night, creating this tired haze, which gives you unusual stamina as well as unusual freedom with the tongue and spirit. the tiredness, combined with the lateness and the fact that you’re probably wearing your bed clothes, gives the conversation a certain erotic nature, which sometimes eventually leads to caught feelings, phone sex, and, in extreme cases, proclamations of love

Instant Messenger/Email/Chat Goggle Plusses: there’s a chance that these are real feelings and not the product of a goggle induced tired proclamation and/or act. you could be kindred spirits, soulmates separated by a monitor and hundreds of miles, but…

Instant Messenger/Email/Chat Goggle Minuses:…more than likely, you just need to take your horny ass to bed. being tired can be as much as an intoxicant as jack daniels, and being up late vibing with a like-minded member of the opposite sex can be as much as an aphrodisiac as eringoes or Halle Berry. plus, you don’t want to run the risk of saying or doing something inappropriate and basically ruining a decent friendship

Verdict: again, being tired can be just as bad as being drunk. and, again, if you feel like the goggles are getting pretty thick, then its probably time to take your ass to bed. If these feelings and inclinations are real, they’ll be just as real at 2pm the next day. plus, phone sex is just that…phone sex. i’ve heard that there’s no worse feeling than doing the post-coitus clean-up by yourself, while subsequently hoping that the person on the other end isn’t streaming all of this live on their audioblog.

am i missing any? people of vsb, what goggles should be added to the list?

—the champ