Category Archives: politics

Kwanzaa: The Milli Vanilli of Holidays

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***Due to simultaneous emergencies in VSB land last night — Champ was home making soup, P was judging a thong contest at a 24-hour bowling alley, and Liz was actually in the thong contest (she came in 2nd) — we reached out to the homie Luvvie to provide today’s post. She was reluctant at first, but a quart of rice and a half gallon of baby oil eventually swayed her. Enjoy.***

Kwanzaa is the Milli Vanilli of Holidays. It tries too hard to be authentic, but at the end of the day, it’s just a lip-synching, bad locs-wearing version of Hanukkah in Cross Colors Kente.

I’ve never been a fan of Kwanzaa and I doubt I’ll ever be one. This might be because I’m an elitist African. Or maybe I’m just a professional hater. Or both. Either way, I’ve often had to stop myself from saying “Harambe DEEZ” when people tell me “Happy Kwanzaa” thinking I celebrate it, especially because I’m from the motherland. White folks tend to think I’m the person to direct that greeting to and I usually just respond with a blank stare or a half nod. I’m African but I don’t fux with Kwanzaa celebratorily.

According to the official website (which looks like it was built on Geocities), “Kwanzaa was created to reaffirm and restore our rootedness in African culture.” Too bad this celebration of culture and roots isn’t even celebrated by most Africans. I’m not saying I know every African on this Earth, but I know NONE who celebrate Kwanzaa. I didn’t even know about Kwanzaa til I was 9, when I came to theUnited States, and we learned about it in school. I had never even heard of it. My sister even asked me if Al Sharpton invented it in 1984. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was actually Jesse Jackson.

The fact that Africans don’t celebrate Kwanzaa doesn’t make it invalid, but it’s like saying you’re paying homage to Native American culture by putting a feather in your cap and saying “HEYHOWAREYA” as you dance around a campfire. We don’t all speak Swahili, nor do we fist pump and go “Harambe” as celebration when we kill a goat. Pan-Africanism is all well and dandy but it doesn’t need to come packaged in cowrie shells, dashikis and Swahili. Kwanzaa is that teacher in high school who wears kente cloth on MLK Day that she bought it from87th street. You don’t have to do all that to show pride, or to reconnect to ancestors.

Besides that, Maulana Karenga — creator of Kwanzaa — gets hella side-eyes himself. Apparently, his motives behind creating the holiday was to make sure Black folks didn’t celebrate Christmas because apparently, Jesus was a crip and and Christmas is for suckas. So he decided to put together Black Hanukkah, complete with a menorah and candles in the Pan-African colors of red, green and black. Oh. Ok.

And that whole incident in the 70s where he was convicted of torturing a couple of his “African Queens” with electrical cord beatings and hot irons in their mouths. Yeah… Karenga seems to have hella issues.

BUT, I’m not pissing on Kwanzaa entirely. I guess the 7 principles are nice and useful if practiced. Unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity and faith ARE great principles for black folks to hold dear. But I think black culture is rich enough to where these can be emphasized without being in this Swahili-ness that Karenga decided on. Black Americans, your love is too legendary and the culture is too rich to have Kwanzaa throw it back in your face in a harambe fist pump. I’m all about celebrating African American culture, uplifting my people but to me, Kwanzaa reeks of “try too hard.” Blame it on the Boondocks.

Kwanzaa is the Michelle Williams of holidays. It has good intentions (I guess) but it doesn’t curl all the way over for me. I don’t have a problem with people who celebrate it, though. Besides, I admit my hypocrisy, because I do celebrate Christmas, which is also technically made up. And I know Jesus isn’t a Capricorn but whatevs. I’ll take my December full of materialism, cheesy carols and sweet alabaster white baby Jesus in a manger. And some jolly old dude breaking into my house to eat my cookies (pause)  and drop off a gift. Yes. That’s much better.

Anyway, people of VSB.com: Tell us how you really feel about Kwanzaa.  Do you celebrate it? If so, why? If not, why not?

The Kwanzaa tree(?) is yours.

You can find Luvvie at Awesomely Luvvie, on Twitter, or milking goats at various mangers in the greater Chicago-area. .

If I Were A Poor Black Kid, What Would You Say To Me?

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I have a confession to make: Although it rang in at a little under 1000 words, yesterday’s “No Pre-Nupt? No Problem” was a “fall-back” post that I scrambled to write in 90 minutes after I scrapped my original, “genius” plan. That plan? A satirical response to Gene Marks’ “If I Were A Poor Black Kid.”

I had the title picked out (“If I Were A Middle Aged White Guy“), a plan (full satire with no winks at the audience), and even went back and forth with the number of penis envy jokes I was going to include (Two. Any more would be tacky). I basically had everything written out in my head before I even typed a word.

But, just as I was about to log on and start writing, something told me to google “If I Were A Middle Aged White Guy.” I did and, well, that “something” saved me the shame of doing the exact same thing that 7578327843 people already did last week. Drats!

Admittedly, it had been a week — a light year in internet time — since that article first hit the internet, so news that my “fresh, witty, and unique” idea was as stale as a day old dog fart wasn’t necessarily shocking. Actually, at this point, any “fresh, witty, and unique” take on this topic would be equally stale.

That venture to Google showed me something else, though, something a bit more disturbing. Our collective rush take Marks’ article down as quickly, wittily, insightfully, condescendingly, factually, and snarkily as possible made for one underlying truth: We really do believe that poor black kids are doomed. 

Perhaps I’m reading to much into this. Maybe, out of the dozens of takes I’ve read on this subject, I overlooked the one that didn’t share this sentiment. But, it seems like the general response can be summed up by just saying “Sh*t is royally f*cked, there’s nothing they can do about it, and it’s insulting to even suggest that anything can be done about it.”

Now, this may actually be true. Maybe luck, serendipity, and divine intervention are the only realistic ways for Dukie to get to Duke. But, lets say I’m that poor black kid. Do you tell me that my destiny is completely out of my control? That regardless of how hard I work, a lucky break or a generous benefactor is the only chance I have to succeed? Do you tell me not to bother walking to the library because I’ll probably trip and fall on an AIDS infected needle on the way there? Do you tell me to forget about downloading Skype on the old laptop my aunt let me borrow because the electricity is gonna be off all next month anyway? That I need to start playing basketball 12 hours a day because my best bet at getting out of the hood is being really, really good at it?

What the hell would you say to me?

—The Champ

The Uncomfortable Truth About Educated People And Unprotected Sex…

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Remember me? Ha! That was a rhetorical question. I already know that you don't.

…is that none of us really want to admit that — despite our (occasionally) expert and (always) intimate knowledge about AIDS rates, unwanted pregnancies, what unwanted and unprepared for pregnancies can do to our bank accounts, what 9 pound 8 ounce babies do to perfectly nice and pretty vaginas, how single parents (mothers especially) are ostracized, Ron Mexico, bacterial vaginosis, chlamydia, gonorrhea, hepatitis, papillomavirus, pelvic inflammatory disease, syphilis, trichomoniasis, chlamydia, gonorrhea, genital herpes, the ubiquity and silliness of Valtrex commercials, Jim Jones, the fact that Magnum condoms really aren’t any bigger than regular ones, The Red Pump Project, killer p*ssy, limbo p*ssy, stripper p*ssy, Delta p*ssy, killer Delta stripper limbo p*ssy, whiskey d*ck, wack d*ck, crack d*ck, deprived d*ck, parking lot d*ck, “too nondescript to really count against my number” d*ck, keeping the numbers down, drunk sex, ex sex, sad sex, “I don’t really want to have sex with you, but I’m going to have sex with you anyway” sex, “your o face is too goofy for us to have sex again” sex, the Tuskegee experiment, Antonio Cromartie, Nas’ “You Got a House In Virginia” diss directed at Cam’ron in “Zone Out”, Eazy-E, Ol Dirty Bastard’s incoherent verse on the live MTV version of “America Is Dying Slowly”, dental dams, the utter ridiculousness of the female condom, the medieval-ness of Rape-Ex, Magic Johnson, the spaceship Magic Johnson takes to Jupiter once a month to pick up his HIV drugs, the joke that Flavor Flav looks exactly how we all thought Magic Johnson was going to look by now, The Corner, the occasionally absurd and always misleading stats that seem to come out annually about Baltimore’s infection rate, the prominence and prevalence of strippers, stripper culture, and young kids with names that have basically doomed them to be strippers, female ejaculation, the inane argument that female ejaculation doesn’t exist, the faux reliability of the pull-out method, and, most importantly, the fact that we know that we’re smart enough, educated enough, and thoughtful enough to know better — many of us (and my “many” I mean “most”) still have had unprotected sex, are currently having unprotected sex, and don’t plan on discontinuing the unprotected sex any time soon.

—The Champ

Why I Think I Love Issa Rae (and Tracy Oliver too)

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Did you know that former NBA player/Kardashian concubine Rashad McCants produced and starred in “The Booster Club” — which, according to its YouTube summary, is a “comedy series that will take viewers into the lives of a ring of professional booster “thieves” dedicated to the advancement of those addicted to the high of stealing”? Did you also know that McCants wears a black mop top wig throughout the entire trailer devoted to this series?

Well, if you’re reading this, I’m assuming you’re at least somewhat sane. And, since you’re at least somewhat sane, you probably answered “No” to both of these questions. I consider myself to be at least somewhat sane too, but I’m aware of “The Booster Club” because we (VSB) get approximately 15 to 20 trailers like this sent to us every month by either publicists and A&R’s promoting their material or fans, cousins, and babymommas of the people involved, and I’ve watched every single one of them.

As you’ve probably imagined, my viewing experiences have lowered my expectations considerably, so when people were texting, emailing, and tweeting me last spring to see if I’d watched this new web series about some awkward black girl, I responded to each with the same tone of transparent disingeniousness I’d use when I was 12 and my mom asked if I’d cleaned my bedroom yet. “Yeah, mom. I promise. I’m going to get it done today. You’re my favorite mom, ever. I love you.”

But, when I did finally get around to it, not only was I (very) entertained and (completely) impressed, I felt a feeling that’s perhaps the most sincere compliment I can possibly give: envy. Seriously, I thought it was so good that I was kind of pissed that I didn’t create it myself.

Since then, I’ve followed the progress of the Awkward Black Girl team. I’ve seen each episode, read/watched pretty much every interview, and even planned to get Issa Rae and (co-producer) Tracy Oliver on a podcast. (Didn’t happen because, well, we just got busy with book stuff and forgot. If you don’t buy that excuse, just pretend it was Jim Jones’ fault.)

Yet, despite the fact that I’m (obviously) a fan already, something happened this week that turned my fandom into sincere admiration.

From “Awkward Black Girl’ Called Out For Offending the Transgender Community, Is It Fair?”

“…but recently a few members of the Crunk Feminist Collective, a group we also love, has called out the show for using the word “tranny” and the phrase “no lesbo.”

Although very few people get spared the comedic jabs of Awkward Black Girl, the men and women over at the Crunk Feminist Collective (CFC), found the usage of such terms to be offensive and divisive.”

Now, we’ve all seen this play out a million and one times. Entertainer known for “colorful” content offends someone, offended party lets their hurt feelings known, and entertainer responds by going on a 28 day long apology tour. I even alluded to this panoramic and pandemic hypersensitivity in an entry last month.

I was expecting the Awkward Black Girl team to do the same thing. They surprised me, again.

Their response

Some of our viewers may have been offended by some of the language in our recent episode. We take this matter especially to heart, considering the CFC and members of the LGBT community were among the first to embrace ‘The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl.’

Since our first episode debuted in February this year, ‘Awkward Black Girl’ has received an incredible outpouring of support from hundreds of thousands of fans. We love and appreciate each and every one of our fans! In return, we strive to provide a show that uses irreverent comedy and humor to address the oftentimes uncomfortable situations that many people have experienced at some point or another in their lives.

In creating a series of this nature, we are willing to accept the praise when the jokes work and the feedback when they may not.

Sincerely, Issa & Tracy

Carefully worded? Definitely. Sincere? Seems like it. Thoughtful? Sure. Considerate? Yeah.

One thing is missing though. There is no apology there. None. Zero. Zip. Nil. They didn’t apologize for shit, and I can only assume it’s for one reason: They’re not actually sorry.

I’m sure they probably wish that the Crunk Feminist Collective didn’t get offended. But, wishing someone didn’t get offended isn’t the same thing as apologizing that someone’s been upset, and I appreciate them not taking the easy bait.

I really, really liked them for creating a series that’s witty, offbeat, irreverent, and intentionally toes the line of political correctness (and has proven to be an equal opportunity shot taker), and I think I love them for not apologizing for it.

—The Champ

Standing By Your Man: Savvy or F*cking Stupid?

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Although he was completely unqualified, completely unprepared, completely (but hilariously) uncouth, and unapologetic about this unqualifiedness, unpreparedness, and uncouthness, I have to say that I’m going miss Herman Cain — the realest motherf*cker alive. Seriously, we’re going to see Jerry Sandusky working at Chuck E Cheese before we see another elderly black pizza man with a bag of hard “candy” in his pocket become — even for 25 milliseconds — the presumptive leader to be the republican nominee in the race for president.

Never mind the fact that he had absolutely no chance to win and you can (rightly) argue that his appeal was mainly due to the fact that his presence allowed many their “See? I hate Obama — his policies, his name, his weed lips, his big bootied wife, and his black gums — but this proves I’m not racist.” moments, he was entertaining, his hats kicked ass, he looks like he smells like Old Spice, Champale, and Viagra powder, and he wasn’t above singing random negro spirituals at press conferences. Do I want him as my president? F*ck no. Would I hook him up with one of my aunts? Probably not. Would I hook him up with a down on her luck middle-aged white co-worker who’s just looking for a casino buddy and someone to hand job? Definitely.

But, while Herman Cain definitely piques my interest, today I’m a bit more interested in his wife. It’s no secret that Herman Cain’s hermancane is the reason why he dropped out of the race. Although none of these allegations have been confirmed, by the looks of things it seems like he’s f*cked more white women than Rick James. Yet, the best way to describe Gloria Cain’s demeanor through all of this is annoyed — not annoyed that her husband thinks he’s Lexington Steele, mind you, but by the women making these claims. It’s almost as if her default public face is “Here we go with these silly bitches again.”

I’m aware that this may very well be her public face. Perhaps he’s been sleeping on the couch for the last 6 months. Perhaps she’s pulling a Hilary — standing by her man in public to eventually reap the benefits of his ascension. But, at the moment she’s making a very conscious and conspicuous choice to let everyone know that she’s standing by her husband’s side, and you can’t help but be curious why.

Now, this situation is far from unique. In just the last week, we’ve seen the bizarre back and forth between Bishop Spermin’ and Permin’ and his wife and we were also made aware that that Laurie Fine — the wife of Bernie Fine (the longtime assistant basketball coach at Syracuse accused of molesting ball boys) — knew that her husband had “issues” at least nine years ago and is still married to him. These are men who allegedly did despicable things, things that you’d think would be dealbreakers for anyone, but their wives obviously didn’t consider ending the relationship to be the immediate choice.

While I used to think otherwise, I have to say that I don’t consider a person in this situation to be automatically wrong anymore. Again though, none of us have any idea of what’s really going on in these women’s heads and driving them to at least consider staying. But unless a woman’s life is in danger, I just can’t call her stupid or weak or hopelessly adickted or any other negative adjective for choosing to stay with a shitty man.

It’s a very cliched way to look at things, but life is, well …life is f*cking long and hard, and if a person staunchly believes that they still have a better chance of tackling this life monster with their faulty mate at their side, who am I to begrudge them? Perhaps Gloria Cain’s “silly bitch” smirk is really just her saying “Look. I put all my chips in on this number 7-ass n*gga 40 years ago. Can’t stop the roulette wheel now, and don’t know if I’d want to even if I could.”

Anyway, people of VSB, I’m curious: Do you think that women like Gloria Cain are stupid for standing by their men? Also, while we all have our automatic dealbreakers (cheating, domestic violence, etc) can you ever envision yourself in a situation where you might be tempted to overlook those things for the greater good?

—The Champ