Tag Archives: race

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!!!!***

Is It Ever “Ok” For Whites To Criticize Blacks?

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Last weekend, one of my homegirls invited me to go see “The Dutchman” — a 45 minute long one act play that’s intended to serve as an allegory for Black/White relations in America. Since Saturday was the last day it would be playing at the Bricolage Theater — and since my particular form of bougie Blackness calls for me to witness or partake in at least one “serious” conversation about race per month to offset my affinity for bottomless mimosas — I couldn’t pass it up.

Intense, disturbing, (occasionally) melodramatic, and intentionally provocative, the play itself was pretty much what I expected it to be. The most interesting part of the evening, though, was the “talk back” — the planned, hour-long discussion about race that took place right afterwards; a conversation involving cast members, the theater production people, and the audience. The theater only holds maybe 60 seats, and it’s structured so that the audience surrounds the stage on all sides. A quick jaunt to Goggle shows that this is called “theatre-in-the-round” — the perfect format to have a group discussion.

As you may have guessed, the audience was (mostly) comprised of Black people and the type of ultra-liberal, well-intentioned Whites who wear t-shirts with things like “White Privilege Sucks” written on them — basically, the exact type of audience that’s always present in any “serious” and open discussion about race that most of us have been a part of. And, usually these discussions are nothing but us (Black people) sharing our stories and airing our grievances while the Whites in the crowd nod solemnly and occasionally share their own self-depreciating stories about when they first realized that all White people are evil racists.

There was one person, though, who didn’t stick to the usual script. She was biracial (White and Native American), and she shared some not-so-positive experiences and feelings involving Black people. Her statements went over about as well as a fart in a crowded elevator; you could hear people groaning and sighing while she was talking, and everyone there — myself included — couldn’t wait to respond to and rebut some of the things she was saying.

Now, part of the reaction to her definitely had to do with her delivery. There was a certain tone-deaf antagonism attached to what she was saying. Basically, her body language and tone screamed “I’m fed up with y’all niggas, and you’re about to hear why, dammit!” But, on Sunday, as I reflected on the discussion, I realized that she actually didn’t complain about anything we don’t regularly complain about to each other.

She’s a stage manager, and the story she shared had to do with how Black actors are pretty much never on time. Once, when she asked a group of habitually late actors to be more respectful of her time, they felt disrespected and starting showing up even later just to spite her. (I actually laughed aloud when hearing that)

Again, she had the type of tone and assistant principal-esque demeanor that made it pretty easy to see why someone would respond to her the way the actors did. But, I do wonder if we just have a legitimate problem with getting “called out” by White people.

Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t wonder about this. I know we generally do not take kindly to White people criticizing anything that has to do with Black people and Black culture. As stated earlier, the criticism could even be the exact same thing we criticize about ourselves, but a White voice seems to make that criticism invalid.

For instance, in the last couple of months, there have been at least two high-profile instances of a non-liberal White person publicly criticizing something related to Black people and facing serious repercussions because of it.

John Derbyshire’s “The Talk: Nonblack version” — a “letter” to his son teaching him the best way to avoid violent confrontations with Black people — got him fired from his job at The National Review. While Derbyshire deserved to be fired for using shitty science to back his race-based racist assertions, much of what he said in his piece has come out of our own mouths many times.

In fact, three of his pieces of advice — “(10a) Avoid concentrations of blacks not all known to you personally, (10b) Stay out of heavily black neighborhoods, and (10c) If planning a trip to a beach or amusement park at some date, find out whether it is likely to be swamped with blacks on that date” — are things that can be found in our freakin book.

In one of our chapters, Panama jokes that any guy trying to avoid having to fight anyone while on a date should stay away from places that young Black people congregate, like Applebee’s, night clubs, and Detroit.

You could make the same point about Naomi Schaefer Riley, who was recently fired from The Chronicle of Higher Education for writing a piece criticizing the value of Black Studies courses at universities. Was she wrong for flippantly dismissing an entire field of study? Yes. But, raise your hand if you’ve ever joked among other Black people that a Black Studies degree is about as useless as thumbs on a roach.

Granted, Riley and Derbyshire aren’t the best examples to use when making this point. Both were being intentionally sensationalistic, and they both basically got what they were asking for. But, it’s not only the non-liberal Whites who get this type of push back. I’ve read 1000 word long criticisms of Roger Ebert — a man who’s about as liberal, articulate, reasonable, and well-read as a person can possibly be — just because he gave a Tyler Perry movie a (deservedly) bad review, and I can’t count how many times I’ve heard White sports pundits called racist because they had something bad to say about a Black athlete. In these instances, the tone didn’t even matter. It just came down to “You’re White and he’s Black and that means you can’t say shit”

Anyway, that’s it for me today. I’m curious though: Do you think we have a problem with hearing criticism from Whites? If so, do you think it has more to do with the content of the criticism, or the tone/manner used to criticize?

Lastly, can you think of a time/situation where it was ever “Ok” for a White to call out a Black person/Black people in regards to something race-related?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

You Know How We Do It?

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911 Emergency. Reconnect The Community.

I’ve made a lot of interesting discoveries since I became a parent. I’ve learned that the Disney Channel has a lot of cool shows. I know who Selena Gomez AND Demi Lovato are and could identify them on sight…in public. I also learned that Phineas and Ferb f*ckin’ rocks and there are some very very good children’s albums.

I’ve also learned extreme patience and the importance of clearly explaining myself for the most effective results.

Which brings me to yesterday and the most interesting lesson I learned: birthday parties do seem to differ by race.

Okay, that might not be completely accurate, as my sample size seems rather small, however, I’ve never let facts get in the way of a perfectly good sociological discovery and analysis, so why start now.

My daughter is a toddler. She’s *this* many years old. So at this point, I’ve been to my fair share of birthday parties. But until yesterday, I hadn’t thought about the fact that, for the most part, nearly all of the party goers were of the ninja persuasion. You see, for the first time, I took my daughter to a birthday party where I was the only ninja participant. My daughter goes to a very diverse daycare/pre-school and has taken a particular liking to a certain Caucasian classmate who is the same age. They *heart* each other. It’s actually cute.

Being the professional observationist that I am, I noticed so many interesting tidbits. For instance, I had to be the youngest parent there. Which struck me as odd since I’m fairly sure that I looked like a teenage parent compared to the other parents. And it wasn’t just my spirit. I think I really just looked that young compared to the rest. That was very different since, well, whenever I go to a bday party of color for my daughter, everybody is pretty much the same age or a little younger than I am. I don’t feel young is the main bullet point.

The next thing that jumped out to me is that all of the parents kept talking about work and travel plans. Literally, I heard more conversations that involved taking a dog overseas than I’ve ever heard in my life. It was all, “my proposal” this or ” this week in July” that. It was interesting because at all of the colored parties I’ve been to, I can’t remember anybody having an in-depth conversation about those things. Not that they don’t happen, I’ve just never heard that.

Most of the birthday parties I’ve been to are full of life conversations as well, but I suppose since most of us know each other very well, they don’t come across as “professional” so to speak. It’s like a regular party with your homeboys or homegirls. But I did know for a fact that these folks all lived very near each other. Hmmm….perhaps its the age thing. Maybe me and my friends are just ignant and the rest of the world is having meaningful and substantive conversations at toddler birthday parties. Maybe…just maybe…Hennessy ISN’T part of the toddler birthday party experience.

That last line is a joke.

No really. I don’t even drink when I have my daughter nor will I ever around her. She moves too quickly for me to have any type of impaired athletic abilities.

Even though they either didn’t realize it or wouldn’t think anything of it, I felt like I got a cultural experience just from going to an upwardly mobile white toddler birthday party. (The white parents at the school where my daughter goes are largely well-to-do hippy, earthy-crunchy, tree huggers with money that affords the ability to be novelists and random artisans). And I immediately thought about how interesting it would be to invite a few of those parents to my daughter’s bday party with a bunch of ninjas with kids the same age as theirs but likely 10 years younger that featured music that included the clean version of “Cashin’ Out” and the catalog of the seminal talent, 2 Chainz. (I actually really mean that, like, how can anybody NOT like 2 Chainz? He entertains me. SIMILAC! Oh, and that Ca$h Out ninja is one ugly motherlover. Like Cash Money Records 1998 ugly.)

Granted, this was just one party. And it was at a park. So alcohol was prohibited. But this seemed very natural. And it was cool. I enjoyed the learning that took place even thought it wasn’t intentional. So I assume that there must be other areas where folks have had similar experiences, right? Doing one thing with your peoples and the same thing with other folks peoples and immediate differences (good and bad) surface?

It’s Monday, let’s be cultural…what experiences have you folks have that mirror mine? Learn me something. Learn us something

-VSB P aka MR. BDAY EXTRAVAGANZA aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Separate, But Equal For The Greater Good!

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Emo is also know as Marvin's Room.

Separate, but equal.

Such powerful words. They created the basis for Jim Crow and laundromats. And zoos. Definitely zoos. Well over time I’ve come to learn that with all of the progress we’ve made with integration (whether or not integration was a good thing is rightfully debatable), that while being able to drink from the same drinking fountain f*cking rocks, there are some instances where perhaps, separate, but equal just might be better. In some ways, thats the premise that the Black Panthers were working with. Allow our communities to police ourselves because we couldn’t trust the power structure as it was to justly address the issues of our community.

Then came crack.

Moving on. The point is, all segregation isn’t a bad thing. I hear you looking at me with odd trepidation. I would be too. But trust me, I’ve recently discovered some areas where perhaps segregation might be beneficial to all parties involved. Eli Porter face. I did that.

And thiiiiiiiiis is where this post takes the turn towards, huh? what? Just keep swimming.

While I have you completely baffled about what direction I’m going, here is a list of things where segregation might be best for us all.

1. Hip-hop dance class

To most white people, all Black people have rhythm, can sing and dance, and are great at basketball. And I, for one, am completely okay with that stereotype. We’re the purveyors of cool. I think white and Black people have come to a comfortable understanding and acceptance that we’ve got this entertainment thing on lock. So imagine just how disappointing (and upsetting) it would be if the Black chick in the hip-hop dance class sucked at dancing. Hell, I’d be disappointed and I KNOW all Black people can’t dance. Plus, Black people wouldn’t be subject to being taught “Black culture” by white teachers who call themselves things like DJ Scriggety Scratch who start all classes by saying “peace” forcing us to want to jackslap and mollywop somebody to make penance for the blatant disrespect of our culture. Or something. Point is, segregated hip-hop dance class is a win for everybody. Khaled.

2. Any establishment that serves soul food

As we’ve said plenty of times on this here site, down South, Black and white people pretty much eat the same sh*t. Hell, back in slavery days, we were the ones cooking for massa and ‘nem so it makes sense that on Thanksgiving day in the South, everybody’s eating the same thing (with the exception of the large Hispanic population who are likely NOT eating hogmaws). Do you know how difficult it is for some Black people to eat chicken AND/OR watermelon in front of white people? I know people who refuse to do so as to not be stereotypical. Well, if we mandated segregated soul food eating then we, the Black people, could be free to eat our stereotypical food in peace while they, the white people, could be free to eat the most bland deviled eggs of all time without worrying about anybody trying to put paprika on them. Everybody wins.

3. The movies

Hear me out. This kind of probably happens already anyway depending on the movie. But if there’s one place where stereotypes get reinforced, its the movie theater. Word.Life. Ninjas do hoodrat things with their friends at the movies. And I assume white people do too. We just tend to be a little more auditory. I remember going to see Bamboozled when it came out in Atlanta and much to my surprise there was a very mixed crowd. Well, we talked through the whole damn movie. Amenning it up. Yelling and booing at the screen. I’m fairly positive that the nice white people didn’t hear half the movie because I know that I didn’t hear half the movie. Picture a Tyler Perry movie experience on opening weekend. Well if we separate, but equate that joint then white people can watch in silence and Black folks can ham it up in loudence…THEN wait for the DVD to come out and purchase that joint ENSURING that Black movies continue to get made since the main reason why so many Black movies can’t get the green-light is because the majority of money made on Black movies comes from DVD sales. If we ain’t buying, they ain’t making. Word to big bird. Again, everybody wins. White folks pay upfront and we take it in the rear. Sounds like life, eh?

4. Men’s bathrooms for Drake fans and for non-Drake fans

In one, there are urinals and stalls. In the other, there are only stalls. I’ll let you assign them accordingly.

Those are just a few examples of places that logically might make sense to segregate, if ya know what I mean, for the greater good. Good people of VSB, got anything else???

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. I’M NOT THAT SENSITIVE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Yeah, I Was Just In Africa On Tuesday!

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Apparently this is where Nas and T-Boz went in Belly. To some trees. Africa.

Black history month is almost over so let’s talk about Africa.

Something’s been on my mind for quite some time. And it’s bigger than me and you, your mama and your cousin too. It’s a phenomenon that was brought to my attention while reading the book Authenically Black by John McWhorter about this whole notion of Mother Africa and the ability of us black folks to claim any and everything as being inherently African.

And you know what, I agree with him…that’s pure and utter bullsh*t.

Now I’m not a fan of Mr. McWhorter at all. In fact, I believe that he’s exactly what’s wrong with some black folks in America. And it isn’t that he doesn’t have good ideas because truthfully he does. It’s more in his execution. For instance, as opposed to saying that Amadou Diallo was unjustly murdered for pulling out a wallet, McWhorter took the side of police officers in pointing out that they are working under stressful conditions and that they feared for their lives. Now I don’t find anything wrong with that statement except for the fact that THEY SHOT THIS DUDE 41 TIMES AND HIS BACK WAS TURNED TO THEM. Forty one mother fuckin’ times???

Look, I know this is old, so I skip that since most of us have forgotten about it, but sometimes you do have to say f*ck the police.

And like usual, I’ve digressed.

Aha…Africa. Have you seen Belly?? Of course you have. I’ve seen it a good million times. Even bought the special edition. I love that movie. You’re probably wondering how I could love that movie. See, I don’t view it as a movie, more as an extra long form music video. If you watch it like that, it makes complete sense and flows smoothly. And yes, T-Boz and Taral Hicks both need Oscars for their interpretations of hood chicks that can’t act. Shout outs to Octavia Spencer.

[***Sidenote: Speaking of T-Boz, wasn't her performance the absolute worst you've ever seen on screen? Go ahead, you can admit it. I wonder how many times Hype Williams wanted to shoot her, and I don't mean that in the directorial way either. It's hard to believe that her scenes were the best takes they got on her. If they were, then she is living proof that you cannot do anything you set your mind too. See that kiddes, failure is real. Sometimes there are things you just CAN'T do. Sheesh!***]

At the end of Belly, Nas’ character Sincere and wifey Tionne, decide to move to Africa. Where at in Africa??? You’re guess is as good as mine. They showed some damn trees and the sky and the assumption was that you were somewhere in the motherland, as opposed to say, I don’t know, ANYWHERE ELSE THAT HAS SOME DAMN TREES AND THE SKY!!! The voiceover was very clear as Nas says, “Africa…it was so beautiful.”

Hmmm.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. Now I know that we cannot trace our ancestors back very far. We just know that they came over on some party boats and were promised some bubbly and some new digs, and well, we were lied too. But what we do know is that a majority of our ancestors came over from the Western Coast of Africa. Not exactly South Africa or Madagascar. Not Zimbabwe or the Congo. Not Kenya nor Ethiopia.

So why in the sh*t is it that every time we do something we trace it back to Africa??? As a whole?? Now I understand the whole cultural identity thing and the fact that we, as a people, were removed from the original homeland and over time lost our ties to whichever country we originated from and its customs and heritage. Due to this, our history is lacking. We don’t have much of one outside of being Americans, nowadays, and even that’s shady at best.

But that whole notion gets lost on me when we start referring to everything we do as being of African descent. Every dance cannot be traced back to some tribal dance. And I swear, if another dude tells me he got his aim from his ancestors, which is why he’s so accurate with a .45, I just might scream.

Further, I wonder if most people even know any actual Africans. I wonder this because every person I know from Africa refers to their country as their home. They don’t just say Africa when asked where they are from. They say Nigeria or Ghana (or wherever they’re from). When we go overseas and somebody asks where we’re from, we often say America (or some country in the Caribbean if we’re in hostile territory), or the U.S. Kicko, that’s a country…not a continent.

So where do we get off appropriating everything to a damn continent?? Dashikis!! Africa. Kwanzaa!!! Africa. Honestly, none of my friends from Africa celebrate Kwanzaa. Nor have I seen any of them in that overly colorful sh*t you can buy from the African stores in AnyMajorCity, USA. If you ask me, it seems like somebody is pimping Africa. Making money off of the perception of Africa.

Now that I think about it, I also get slightly miffed when folks send out those emails where you list everything about yourself and send it to 30 of your friends or you’ll die a horrible death by papercut, lemon, and telephone cord. One of the questions is always: Have you been to Africa? I can only assume this is the African-American version. I wonder if the white version says, “ever been to Russia?” People always respond to that question with, no, but I’m planning too. So my question is…WHERE in Africa?? Hell does it matter? Does stepping one foot on the continent equate to soul cleansing because of the journey, trials, and tribulation of our ancestors. And if that’s so, does it matter if our ancestors didn’t actually COME from the part of Africa you step foot on??

You see, people, my people, especially black Americans, are quick to point out that Africa is a continent full of beautiful black people all over. Continents have countries and everybody in Africa isn’t the same. Until we come up with something like Kwanzaa or some other random sh*t that cannot be factually tied to any particular country, and just say it’s from…AFRICA!!! I have no real beef with Kwanzaa until people start espousing that cultural tie to Africa thing because then my question becomes…WHERE IN AFRICA??? It’s good in theory but dammit, Africa isn’t a big a** country. Everybody in Africa doesn’t speak the same language or follow the same traditions.

Hell, everybody in America doesn’t speak the same language or follow the same traditions. So how can we be so close-minded as to just determine that anything we do black comes from Africa. Like that makes sense?? Can we determine a country of origin dammit?? Does it make any difference that people in Egypt and people in Sierra Leone do completely different sh*t?? Or is that just inconsequential when we are trying to establish that black people were responsible for civilization??

I’m all for determining our origins. But I really hate that black folks just so quickly make some false tie to Africa for any and everything that we do. Newsflash muchacha: Everything ain’t African. Ebonics??? Questionable tie AT BEST. Kwanzaa…umm…right! Kinte clothe??? Named after Kunte?? I don’t know the answer to that but until I see REAL people from Africa wearing it, I’ll pass.

And until somebody can prove to me that Nas was really in Africa, I’m assuming his a** was in South Carolina somewhere looking at some trees.

Unless somebody can prove he was in Kenya or some sh*t.

To be clear, I do understand the ultimate longing for connection and connectivity, and maybe that supersedes everything I’ve just stated. However, I do think that there is a supreme leeway being taken when it comes to what we state comes from Africa.

But what do you think? Am I reading too much into it or am I selling Blackness short? Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. EASTSIDE SOUTH COMPTON aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

DC Folks: This Saturday, March 3, 2012, is another edition of REMINISCE, the party dedicated to all 90s everything. Folks can tell you by now how dope a party it is. And this edition is all about Brooklyn! FREE before 11pm W/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com) ($10 after), OPEN BAR from 930-1030pm and NO DRESS CODE. Come party with VSB!!! Peep the Facebook event reminder: http://www.facebook.com/events/109004725890162/