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!!!!***

Still a bit confused on how this whole points thing works

***This is a revised version of an entry that originally posted three years ago. Enjoy***

In August of 2008, Panama blessed the VSB pulpit with “wlsg,” an entry which provided a definition for “light skinned points”

Light-skinned point(s). noun. 1) the additional attention that fairer skinned light skinned women receive over their darker-skinneded sisters whether or not their face actually warrants any attention at all. 2) the assumed increase in attractiveness laid before melanin deficient black women whether or not their face actually warrants any attention at all.

***For those still unclear about what this means, just think Evelyn Lozada.***

Yet, although this term gets the most mileage, it’s far from the only time black people assign “Points” —  the possession of an attribute or characteristic that makes a person seem much, much, more desirable than they really should be.

Here are 10 more.

1. Dark-Skinned Black Male Points

Single-handedly responsible for the popularity of Wesley Snipes, Taye Diggs, and at least two of them 112 n*ggas.

2. “She looks good for her age” Points

A few years ago, I had a 40-something colleague who all of the older (and younger) male teachers were sweating, as well as a few of the students, who’d always remark “Damn. if she looks like that now, imagine how fine she was at 25″. I agreed, until I saw a 20 year old yearbook picture of her, and was shocked to see that she looked exactly the same. At 25, she looked like a really good looking 47 year old.

3. Poet Points

I originally was going to just make it “Black Male Poet Points” until I remembered that female poets and spoken word performers have their audiences in a certain trance as well. Seriously, if you’re a Black spoken word artist and you still can’t get any kind of romantic rhythm, maybe sex with live humans just isn’t in the cards for you now, or ever

4. Big, ummmm, “Ego” Points

Put it this way: There’s a reason why at least 7 percent of the cats in every hood have never bothered to get driver’s licenses

5. “Good” hair Points

For many black men, the allure of the “good” hair is just as strong if not stronger than the light skinneded points. Seriously, I’ve seen n*ggas do back flips for minotaurs in pumas just because they could imagine playing in their hair

6. “Thick for a White girl” Points

For those who doubt the power of thick for a white girl points, ask any 28 to 40 year old brotha if he’s ever had a prolonged fantasy about big-bootied and strong-faceded Jenny Von Oy.

7. Black Male Blogger Points

Um, moving on…

8. “Shes a well-adjusted freak” Points

Because of the peculiar mammy/madonna/whore complex that affects how the Black community regards our women, orgasmic women who don’t sleep around but actually get great pleasure out of having jungle monkey matrix sex (and aren’t the least bit shy about admitting it) are at a premium, even if looks wise they happen to be more John Kerry than Kerry Washington.

9. Black guy who only dates Black women Points

Um, moving on again…

10. Foreign accent Points

N*ggas love nan’s (non-American nigg*s) with “exotic” accents more than midgets love Ikea. Seriously, if you’re a Black man or Black woman who’s having trouble dating, just barricade yourself in your apartment with tapes of Hugh Grant or Penelope Cruz for a month and practice sounding exactly like them.

That’s it for now.

People of VSB.com, did I miss anything?

Are there any other “points” out there that you’ve seen successfully affect someone’s desirability? Also, do you personally possess any “points” and, have you ever been “influenced” by an otherwise unattractive point haver?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Kevin Durant, making his own personal protest for not winning MVP

Earlier in the week, I joked that a degree in Black Studies is about as useless as thumbs on a roach. Now, I obviously wasn’t serious — I wouldn’t be arrogant enough to dismiss an entire field of study (I’ll let Naomi Riley do that) — but I do think that the Black Studies’ curriculum offered at most universities should expand their horizons a bit and include some things we really, really, really need to get to the bottom of, including…

Why won’t Kevin Durant brush his hair?¹

Is it a silent protest for not winning MVP? Do his naps give him power the same way Rick Ross gets his from his areolas? Did he lose a bet with a genie? Is he allergic to brush bristles? Is he actually just the grown up version of Dookie from “The Wire?” Are him and Russell Westbrook having a year-long contest to “out nerd” each other?

Seriously, I’m actually more interested in why Kevin Durant — a man who happens to be the second best basketball player on Earth — has apparently never brushed his hair than I am in any current unsolved mystery, including who really shot JFK, what the hell happened to Lark Voorhies, and what do vegans eat to make their farts smell like the tree frog from “Pan’s Labyrinth?”

Who invented the booty clap?

Look, while I have an active YouTube account, I’m no expert on bootyology. Despite this, I know that ratchet women weren’t clapping their ass cheeks together 15 years ago the way they all seem to be able to now. (Btw, the only way that link is safe for work is if you happen to work at Waffle House)

I concede the possibility that, 15 years ago, I just wasn’t in the type of circles where ass clapping was frequent, but I doubt this to be true. I get the feeling that if there was ass clapping to be found 15 years ago, I would have found it. I have a nose for ass.

Anyway, since all evidence points to the fact that it’s a recent invention, I’m curious to find out who the hell invented it. Very curious. In fact, I’d greatly appreciate it if somehow could put me in contact with her so I can, um, contact her for an interview.

How did we allow a typical hoodrat Puerto Rican from the Bronx become the most popular character on “Black” TV and the symbol for all that’s wrong with Black women?

Clutch’s Kirsten West Savali already touched on this subject much more thoroughly than I plan to, but really Black America? We have a show created by, catering to, and featuring Black women at their most ratchet, and we allowed a Puerto Rican from the Bronx — the freakin Bronx!!! — to hijack it? What’s up with that? 

(Oh, and for those who want to claim that some African ancestry makes her Black, I’m not claiming her ass. I just barely got over the fact that we need to claim Allen West. There’s no way I’m making room at the table for Evelyn too)

Did anyone ever find Toure’s cousin?

A couple years ago, Toure’ — the world’s newest negro ever invented — caught a bit of heat for suggesting that slaves occasionally seduced their masters. When the heat got too hot, he blamed his cousin for hacking into his Twitter account and making those remarks.

It’s been two years since this occurred, and not only has there still been no sign of this cousin, it seems as if we’ve just stopped searching for him. Perhaps he’s hiding in Kevin Durant’s hair.

Anyway, that’s it for me today. Can you think of any other pressing questions/mysteries that we need to get to the bottom of? Also, if anyone has any answers to any of my questions, please let me know.

¹Why do I get the feeling that the real answer to this question is on some uber-sad “He doesn’t brush his hair because he wants to honor the memory of his dead uncle, who was killed while only carrying a hairbrush”-type shit?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

***Btw, we’re still receiving submissions for Very Smart Singles, but there’s something I wanted to make clear. While it’s true that each single will get a post devoted to them when we publish the profiles, comments will be closed. I repeat, comments will be closed.  While people here generally behave themselves, I wouldn’t let a person put themselves out there to get critiqued and pick apart. People interested in the single will have to email us at contact@verysmartbrothas.com***

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”)

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

(Don’t you love when I open up with that line? It’s like a precursor to some race based observation on something race-related. Like NASCAR. Thank you.)

I had the privilege of growing up in very different circumstances. For instance, during my early years, I was raised by my white mother (as my father, though around, was in another country preparing me for a new family), in a black populated area. Some might call them projects, I choose to call them very low-to-no income housing.

What transpired can only be called a social experiment in whether or not white people can truly raise black kids. While my other black peers were listening to Michael Jackson and Prince, I was listening to Michael Jackson and AC/DC. Or ZZ Top. Or Ratt. Or my personal favorite, Judas Priest.

And you couldn’t tell me nothing about Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath. I was diehard.

At 5.

At age 6, my younger sister and I, heavy metal and motorcycle boots in tow, left my mother’s care in Michigan and moved in with my father in Germany. So you can imagine the culture clash that was little Panama and his new soon-to-be sisters and mother. Have a look see.

Panama’s New Sister-To-Be: I just got that new Janet Jackson!! Controoooooooool!

Porno for Pyro’s Panama: Umm…do you have any Judas Priest? I really like Judas Priest. Or maybe some Ratt.

Panama’s NSTB: What is Judas Priest?!?!!!! Mommy, this new boy that you all brought home just curseded!

(Actually, my sister couldn’t speak English very well at that point since she was going to German school. Little known Panama fact, I taught one of my sisters how to read in English. At age 7. )

PP Panama: *two fingers in the air in Satan/Texas Longhorn salute* Rock on!!!!!

Now this was all a social experiment because my mother’s musical tastes became mine. Kind of like how Kanye said he was very feminine and gay acting in high school because he was raised with his mother. Except not even remotely similar.

With my mother’s musical tastes, I often became the kid that folks didn’t understand. Buying toy bats (of the flying variety) and trying to bite their heads off a la Ozzy will do that to you. However, over time I gained my parents appreciation for “black” music. I started getting into Alexander O’Neal, Michael Jackson (even more), Prince, and of course all the old school soul music my parents had stored up in their record collection. Talk about confusion. It got even worse in middle school. I’d go from listening to Guns ‘N Roses to the Geto Boys in about 3 seconds flat. Skid Row?? Def Leppard?

Homey, pour some sugar on me.

So where is all of this going? Well its going here. My mother’s influence on my early musical tastes have helped me TREMENDOUSLY in life. It allowed me to be way more open-minded in my music than a lot of folks I knew growing up. I’d be rocking my Green Day albums while my friends in high school thought I was listening to that “white music” too much.

Dude, they had an album called Dookie. I was like 13. Who couldn’t get behind that?

And it’s amazing that at this point in my life the vast array of music I listen too. I’ll go from listening to the Blackbyrds to listening to the Doors (as I’m doing right now…I think the classic rock song “Light My Fire” might be one of my new favorite songs of all time). I have thousands of CD’s at this point (on last count) and you’ll find some of the strangest shit ever in that mix. Hell I still purchase music.

I have all of my old school music segregated since I like to consider those albums the gems of my collection. But mixed in with those are my Guns ‘N Roses Appetite for Destruction album, my Doors albums, my Rolling Stones and Beatles albums, though I seriously think the Beatles are WAY overrated.

Yeah I said it!! I’m a gangsta. And I hate Jim Jones.

I often wonder why we, as black folks, are so quick to dismiss rock music (or any other type of music not done by black folks), especially since about 90 percent of the early rock music is just blues music being sung by white boys. Granted, the music was taken and given life by the new white audiences who couldn’t care about the black originators, but alas, if it’s good it’s good. And how many people REALLY don’t listen to rock because of the racism behind it? Not very many. Most folks don’t because it’s “that white sh*t.” Hell, I used to hate on country music. HARD. That was until I started listening to Johnny Cash. Now I’m hooked. And if you don’t think Johnny is country, then I listen to Kris Kristofferson too. The Highwaymen rocked.

I don’t know how people listen to solely rap or R&B all day long. It would truly drive me nuts. Especially with all the great jazz out there. Speaking of jazz and obscure R&B, it wasn’t until college and I met one of my boys who probably introduced me to more jazz and 70′s era soul music than you can shake an old cat at, that I even got into jazz. This dude’s knowledge and catalog is extensive but I was open to learning. Now I’m like niggas with Independence Airline tickets…on a whole nother plane.

Get it? Cuz they shut down…

*rimshot*

Aww go to hell.

Anyway, I know how I got to how I am; how’d you get to where you are?

Put a little love in your heart.

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

That's the same thing I did Mr. Benjamin.

I saw the movie Marci X this past weekend. My random movie game is not to be trifled with. Not a bad movie, but not exactly one I’d recommend anybody spend time watching. Of course, if you’re bored and don’t have anything else to do, there are much worse movies you can watch than Marci X like say Who Made The Potato Salad?

Well, in the movie, Lisa Kudrow stars as the billionaire heiress to a music company mogul who is trying to get Damon Wayans (his name is Dr. S in the movie) to apologize for some of his brash lyrics. Well, they end up dating and the plan is for him to go and apologize for his lyrics at the MTV Music awards.

Well, as Damon Wayans date to the awards show, Lisa Kudrow’s character does what any white woman dating a thugged out Black man would do…

…she dresses like an Erykah Badu knockoff.

Say heffa say what???

Oh no she didn’t.

She was fully garbed in a headwrap, a kinte cloth wrap dress, some beads, and I could have sworn I saw an African medallion somewhere. Pure and utter non-sense. And it wasn’t offensive or anything, just overdone. Totally overdone.

It got me to thinking about the asstastic mess of a job people do when they’re trying to emulate another culture in attempts to assimilate or show support. And yes, we do a horrible job, regardless of race. This means Black people too. This isn’t just a white thing…this spans ALL cultures.

For the life of me, I don’t understand how people can really be so oblivious to the fact that in our attempts to show support or “understanding” of another culture, we completely turn ourselves into caricatures. For instance, when white people try to emulate Black culture, have you noticed that they pick the most extreme examples of Black culture to embrace? I’m talking gold or platinum chains that hang down to their ankles, doo-rags when they have straight hair, hiphop gear that nobody even remotely attached to Black culture would wear. Hell, sometimes I think that most companies make “hiphop” clothing specifically for the leagues of white people who want to be cool between the ages of 13-24 and think that “Black” culture is the way to go.

And it isn’t like everything is off. It just seems like people take that one extra step that would normally have you falling off a cliff and getting caught by your toenails on a broken bottle of Absolut Vodka hanging out of the side of a mountain.

Let’s not just stop with white people though. Let’s talk about Black folks. Yes, Black folks who think they are doing a service to Africa by wearing sh*t Africans wouldn’t be caught dead in. Have you ever noticed how ridiculous a lot of Black folks look when they are paying tribute to “mother Africa”?

Me too.

Hell, it offends me sometimes. Throwing on some kinte clothe pants some slippers exposing your flour-powered toes and putting on an “African” hat you purchased from an Arab guy in your local mall doesn’t exhibit support. It exhibits an exhibit of what not to do when trying to show support to your African brothers and sisters, most of whom you’ll never actually meet.

Hmm…I wonder. Has anybody ever thought to ask an African what they would wear at some sort of traditional ceremony in their home country?? It seems as if the biggest problem we have is that none of us ever ASKS a person of the culture we’re attempting to copy what THEY would wear.

And that includes Africans too.

I’m not sure whose worse in this case, white people or Africans. See, it would seem that Africans get their Black fashion ideas from the same place white people do.

Television and other white people.

And I’m just not quite sure which shows either of them are watching.

Hmmm…

Africans that try to dress like Black Americans miss the mark so hard you have to wonder where they were shooting. It’s the same problem white people have, and its the same problem Black Americans have when trying to be more “African.”

Just makes you want to slap everybody.

For some reason, in our attempts to show support we end up mocking the very thing we want to support. How dumb is that? Thats why I don’t wear anything traditionally African now. Hell, I don’t want to walk outside and offend an African. Some years ago I bought a shirt that said “I (Heart) Afrikan People.”

Hmmm…

It was a good idea when I bought it. Then I thought about it, even wore it once, and felt a whole lot of weird because I’m not African. Well, not in the traditional sense. I’m clearly of African descent.

But the fact is, wearing a shirt that says I Love African People isn’t exactly showing love, it feels more like a mockery. I can wear a shirt talking about I love Black people because well…I’m a Black dude. I associate with Black people. (Allegedly) African people view me as Black. Basically, its like a white person wearing a shirt that says I Love Black People. The right sentiments might be there, but truth be told, it almost looks like a slap in the face. That’s some shit you say after you say something ignorant to attempt to cover your tracks.

And I’m ignorant…so I know what you say when trying to cover your tracks.

I keed I keed.

Back to the point here…it’s interesting how in our attempts to show support we often end up mocking other cultures, openly.

What makes it even more f*cked up is this. In the movie, Lisa Kudrow dressed up as a stereotypic “down-to-earth soul” sistah, kind of chick. Damon Wayans…was a gansta rapper. That shit doesn’t match. Which highlights another problem. Not only do folks not know what they’re doing…they don’t even know WHEN to not know what they’re doing!

So the next time you see a white chick in a headwrap with some Ankh earrings or a Black guy wearing a kinte cloth dashiki with a map of the middle passage adorning the front…

…slap the living shit out of them then tell them the good news.

You just saved a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico.

Seriously though, why do you think that we people, as a rule, generally do such a terrible job of emulating and/or supporting other cultures?

Inquiring minds would like to know?

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. LET’S PLAY NICE TODAY aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

PS: VSB recently teamed up with Coliseum Apparel to do a limited run of VSB branded crewneck sweaters. These joints are dope and I’ve already been rocking them about town. It’s still perfect weather for them as well. #teamVSB. Go on over to Coliseum Apparel’s site to check them out and cop you one! They’re going to go fast!!!!

 ***As grown-ups who still live within reasonable driving distance of their parents are wont to do, I try to visit my parents on Sundays as often as I can. (Why? Well, my parents are my ace boon coons, and I genuinely enjoy spending time with them. Plus, they always make a ton of food for dinner, it’s always a great way to launch a new week, and, um, did I mention the free food already?) The following is a paraphrased summary of a conversation I had with my mom yesterday evening after dinner.***

Champ’s mom (CM): “Did you see SNL last night?”

Champ: “No maam.”

***Feel free to insert a joke about my parents and I being three of the remaining 17 Black people on the planet who still watch SNL on a regular basis.***

CM: “So you didn’t see the skit about Piers Morgan and George Zimmerman?”

Champ: “Nah. What happened?”

CM: “It had Piers Morgan interviewing a bunch of celebrites for their takes on George Zimmerman’s arrest.”

Champ: “Was it funny?”

CM: “I stopped watching a minute or so into it.”

Champ: “Why?”

CM: “What do you mean “Why?” Of all the things to write a skit about, why choose the Trayvon Martin case? Some subjects are too sensitive to joke about. I was honestly surprised and disappointed that SNL went there.”

***I’ve embedded the skit below. In case you can’t see it, Morgan interviews Ice-T, Kayne, Kim Kardashian, and others, and they each offer their increasingly ridiculous takes on this case and the legal system in general¹***

Champ: “Hmm.”

CM: “What?”

Champ: “I don’t know if I agree with you, Mom. Maybe the skit itself wasn’t executed properly, but I don’t think there are any off-limits subjects. I mean, I agree that the skit may have been in bad taste. But, in order to get the types of laughs comedians depend on, sometimes you have to broach uncomfortable topics. Sometimes the joke works. Sometimes it doesn’t. I just don’t think we should be able to tell people “This subject is too serious to be joked about in any manner.”

CM: ”You’re talking about censorship. I’m talking about common sense. Common sense should tell you that a situation as emotionally and politically charged as the Trayvon Martin case should be off limits. I love that you always try to be so pragmatic and practical, but sometimes being that way gives you some serious blind spots.”

***She’s definitely right about the blind spots. There have been times, both online and off, where my instistence on being “sober” or “irrelevant” or “delibrate” made people upset because they assumed I was being intentionally insensitive. In each situation, I ended up hurting feelings because I just didn’t recognize the possibility that feelings could be hurt. Ironicially, I consider myself to be extremely, almost painstakingly, considerate of others. But, I’ve come to realize that this consideration usually only extends to things that would greatly upset me as well.***

Champ: “I do agree that it’s probably too soon to talk about the Trayvon Martin case in that manner. I still think you can find humor in pretty much every subject, though. Sometimes the humor doesn’t have to be “Haha,” but more just recognizing the absurdity of a situation.”

CM: “Pedophila can be funny?”

Champ: “Every Black person in America has either laughed at or told a joke about R. Kelly — jokes specifically related to the fact that he’s the world’s most famous known pedophile. “Eat the cake, Anna Mae” — a line from “What’s Love Got to Do with It” —  has become one of Black culture’s most popular catchphrases. We use it in a tongue-in-cheek/snarky manner, which makes light of the depiction of prolonged domestic violence and sexual abuse the line comes from.”

CM: “Hmm. Two of your nieces were shot a few months ago. One almost died. Where’s the ”funny” in that?”

Champ: “Um, well…um…”

CM: “Exactly.”

***As you can see, my mom has a way of shutting me up.*** 

¹I watched the skit on Hulu a half hour or so after our conversation. The verdict? I agree that SNL probably should have picked a different subject. But, I thought it was…funny.

Two weeks ago, Liz and Madame Noire premiered the inaugural episode of their web-series “Ask A Black Man” where a panel of ninjas, including myself, were asked various questions about what life was like for a single Black male.

Shenanigans ensued. Hell, the comments section over at Madame Noire resembled what I’m fairly certain our forefathers were afraid of: democracy gone wrong. Yes, it’s true everybody does have a voice, but they really never should have given some of you ninjas freedom keyboards.

Well, because Liz apparently likes starting fires as much as I do [Liz's edit: LOL YES, I DO!], I’m back for a second episode, which happens to be the third episode. This is the sex episode where a different panel of hombres talk about coyotes mulattoes staplers economics sex. Also, as the series drops a new episode every Wednesday, for those of you who missed last week’s because we didn’t pub it here, feel free to go check it out. It features the homey Streetz from SingleBlackMale.org.

So sit back, relax, and enjoy the vibe as Panama and a gang of ninjas wax philosophical about the three letter word we all love. Pressy play. Diddy. (Or go check it out at Madame Noire!)

 
P.S. The full and uncut version of this episode will air on Ask A Black Man at 6pm EST tonight. It will feature more questions, more answers and all around a fun time. Make sure you log on to Madame Noire to see it.

Although I still maintain that Black movies can and should do better, I definitely don’t think all is lost with Black cinema. In fact, along with the quotable classics such as “Do The Right Thing,” “Coming to America” and “Love Jones,” there are quite a few (relatively) recent Black movies whose quality and “unforgettableness” has been overlooked to the point where you can justifiably call them underrated.

Here’s five of them.

(Also, before I continue, let me clarify what I mean by “underrated.” You won’t see movies like “Ghostdog” and “Fresh” on this list because, while not many people have seen them, most of the people who have actually seen them think pretty highly of them. The flicks I’m mentioning today have been seen by many, but just aren’t rated as high as they should be.)

“Drumline”

This movie had a very great chance at being shitty. In fact, I remember specifically not seeing this in the theater because I literally said “This movie will very likely be very shitty” when I first saw the trailer and realized that it was starring…Nick Cannon.

Now — and I will definitely devote an entire day to this topic at one point — is there another person in Black culture whose level of cultural (dis)respect is so vastly mismatched with his actual production? Seriously, Nick Cannon has been legitimately successful in everything he’s done, and has helped launch the careers of numerous actors and comedians, and has been with some of the most fantasized-about women in the world, but he still doesn’t get the type of love that his success should warrant. Seriously, Nick Cannon is the reason why this movie doesn’t get the props it should, which is crazy because he’s the main reason why it deserves props!

Anyway, I (obviously) finally got around to seeing it. And, aside from the fact that they cast a 49 year old actor as a college senior, everything about this movie works. The band scenes are cool. The story line is believable. Zoe Saldana and Nick Cannon had genuine chemistry. Shit, they even brought Jason Weaver back from wherever the hell Jason Weaver hangs out when he’s not making movies about drummers.

“Life”

This movie was extremely funny, had a great cast (Seriously, take a minute and go look at its IMDB page), and had a few signature/quotable scenes. (My favorite? The Boom Boom Room bit)

So, with all of this in place, why don’t people talk about it more? Three words: The ending sucked. Now, it wasn’t just the ending that sucked, but the fact that we knew Eddie and Martin were innocent and we still had to watch them stay in prison for 50 years. At first, the whole wrongly convicted thing was funny, but after about an hour or so you can’t help but wonder when the hell they’re going to get out of prison. It would have been a much better movie if they let them go to the major leagues with Bokeem Woodbine and followed their hijinks there.

“Undercover Brother”

Let’s just say that any movie where Dave Chappelle is only the 5th or 6th funniest person in it definitely deserves a shitload of love.

“Hoodlum”

Let’s forget for a minute that Vanessa Williams’ and Larry Fishburne’s romance took up waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much screen time and was about as compelling as a Mitt Romney mixtape. Let’s also forget that Andy Garcia definitely was definitely given a suitcase full of 20 dollar bills to be in this movie. In fact, let’s even forget about the fact that, to be quite honest, the movie wasn’t really that good.

What made “Hoodlum” memorable was the fact that the actors — Tim Roth and Chi McBride, specifically — clearly had fun with their characters, and this made the movie pretty enjoyable. You could even tell that Cicely Tyson probably hadn’t had that much fun since those crazy-ass loft parties Frederick Douglass used to throw.

“Deep Cover”

This movie is largely (and understandably) forgotten about because it was released in that 1989 to 1992 period where heavyweights such as “Do The Right Thing,” “Boyz in The Hood,” “X,” “New Jack City,” “Menace to Society,” “Juice,” and “Boomerang” were made. (Wow. Look at that lineup again. All released within a 30 month span)

Still, this movie is definitely entertaining, and so rewatchable that they decided to remake it 7 years later and call it “In Too Deep.”

Anyway, people of VSB, did I forget anything? Can you name any other underrated Black movies you’d add to the list?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

***For all the folks in the DC area, this Saturday, April 7, from 930pm-3am at Liv Nightclub (11th and U Street, NW) is another edition of #REMINISCE, the party dedicated to all 90s everything brought to you by VSB, Shine On Me, and Just Cause Events. It’s FREE BEFORE 11 w/RSVP (reminiscedc.eventbrite.com), a Courvoisier sponosred open bar from 930-1030pm, and no dress code! It’s cheaper to come out and party. Last month’s party was OFF THE HINGES! Somebody shook my hand when they left and just said, “Thanks P, for throwing this party…” <—- not lying. So come and make it do what it do this Saturday at Reminisce!***