The One Where We Talk About the Best Racial Stereotypes EVER!

Racist-Dog-Granny-CartoonDo you remember how Sanka (ya dead?) was feeling very Olympic one day during Cool Runnings? Well, I’m feeling very racist today. Let’s waaaaaaaaaaade in the waaaaaaaaaters. <—racist

So the other day I was stuck in a basement, sittin’ on a tricycle. I remember at that very moment thinking, “stereotypes suck!” I almost started a Down With Stereotypes Movement (it would have been epic) but then a few things dawned on me like Palmolive (see what I did there?).

1. I actually really like stereotypes. I try to be at least 3 stereotypes per day. For instance, today, I ate some Popeye’s chicken while robbing a woman and yelled out, “I’m drankin’ watermelon watermelon.” I did all this with drugs in my pocket. YAWKYAWKYAWKYAWK.

2. While stereotypes are generally considered bad, some ACTUALLY work in your favor. Like really work. But like everything else there are levels to this. So with that in mind, I decided to run down a list of some of the BEST.STEREOTYPES.EVER. and a bit of analysis.

Who the F*CK WANT WHAT?!!?! And yes, Virginia, everyone’s a little bit racist? Have you seen Avenue Q? I totes want to see it. Who’s gonna take me? And for the record, pretty hurts.

So, class…I’ll hit a nae-nae (and even recite the periodic table) for the person who can tell me the most beneficial and bestest racial stereotype ever!

You, the white woman draggin’ that wagon!

Her: Black men don’t marry Black women! *sucks teeth at Black women trying to figure out how she got picked first*

Nope! No nae-nae for you! Pad thai maybe, call me…if you need a friend.

The most beneficial (and therefore best) racial stereotype ever is that Black men have the biggest wangs. 

Nothing new there. We all have heard this. But here’s some analysis, since as Meek Mills teaches us, there are indeed levels to this sh*t. I think this is where colorism comes into play. Let me ask you a question: Morris Chestnutt or Shemar Moore? Who would you guess is stereotypically packing the larger dong?

Class?

Morris. Because he’s the real mandingo in the family? Nobody looks at light skint men and thinks, lawdy, he’s prolly gon’ rip me to pieces. In fact, I’m sure a light skint dude with a large dong gets the “I wasn’t expecting all that.” Dark skinted dude with tiny peen? Tears of a clown. However, he’s already naked at that point so he kind of wins anyway. Bong bong. Let’s move on, shall we? We shall.

Asians are smarter than everybody else. 

Moment of Truth here: I’m not Asian. Now that we got that out of the way, many moons ago (was that racist?) while in grad school while talking to a friend of Asian descent – I literally have no idea what descent that is, by the way – told me how much it sucked that people think she’s smart. Which only sucks if you ain’t. Granted, that’s a lot of pressure, but I told her that I’d rather be considered smart than a criminal. She said she hadn’t thought about that before, presumably because nobody has ever asked her to help them commit a felony…which has happened to me. Recently. No lie no lie no lieeeeeieieieieeie. Which says something. To others, all Black men probably do look alike, which means to other races I might look like I’m the real mandingo in the family even if my sisters are like, nope. Black women. Terrible.

Jewish people are all rich.

Or as Mos Def (Yasiin Bey) said, “tall Israelis are runnin’ this rap sh*t”. (Notice other stereotypes aren’t stereotypically sexist in nature, they’re actually postive in, like, life and sh*t). Can I be real with y’all for a momento? Or uno momento? OR something. I know that Jewish people are a big thing up north (racist much?), but down South I’m sure there around but I never really paid attention. So that whole Jewish people are rich thing was new to me when I got to be around actual Jewish people. I just felt like sharing. Plus I didn’t want to share that other thing Jewish people are famous for. You know the one.

Mexicans are the hardest workers ever. 

I only personally know like 3 Mexicans. Two of them are actually lazy as f*ck and the other has a Ph.D.. But that doesn’t stop this from being one of those backhanded complimentary best stereotypes ever! Because when you need work done? Who do you to seek out at Home Depot! Mexicans! You ain’t looking for Jamal. He might rob you RIGHT after he moves your television into your house and you can’t pay him in Corona. I’m sorry, that was racist.

This should be enough to get the ball rolling, which was my point. Because Black man…balls.

Ya know, sports. RACISM!

So what are the best racial stereotypes you can think of?? It’s Friday. Race on, my peole. We do this for la raza.

(I’m actually excited to see what ads pop up for a post like this. Because I’m racist.)

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

Movie Giveaway: Non-Stop in DC on Tuesday, February 25th! | VSB Tee-shirts Available for One More Week!

Non-Stop-2014-movie-Wallpaper-1280x800

 

I’ve got 15 (you +1) free passes for an advanced screening of Non-Stop (ahead of its February 28th nationwide theatrical release) on Tuesday, February 25th, at 730pm at the Regal Majestic in Downtown Silver Spring, MD. Passes will be distributed on a first-come, first-served basis. 

 

Email me at panama.jackson@gmail.com with “Non-Stop Movie Passes” in the subject for the free passes. First 15 people who email will receive the passes!

Synopsis: Global action star Liam Neeson stars in Non-Stop, a suspense thriller played out at 40,000 feet in the air. During a transatlantic flight from New York City to London, U.S. Air Marshal Bill Marks (Neeson) receives a series of cryptic text messages demanding that he instruct the airline to transfer $150 million into an off-shore account. Until he secures the money, a passenger on his flight will be killed every 20 minutes. The film reunites Neeson with Unknown director Jaume Collet-Serra and producer Joel Silver, and co-stars Golden Globe Award winner Julianne Moore.

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frontIf you haven’t copped your VSB tee and want one, they’ll be available for another week! We’ve got men’s ($15) and women’s tees ($15/$16 depending on style) and white hoodies ($28)for the winter thug in you. We just need to sell 25 more to reach our goal!. How it works via this site is that when we hit our goal, the shirts ship! (And you aren’t charged until we do!). Basically, you’ll only be charged when we reach our goal. If you get charged THEN WE ALL WIN and your shirt will be on its way!

So get thee to www.teespring.com/vsbtees before time runs out! The campaign ends next week!

www.teespring.com/vsbtees

 

When Love Escapes Us.

jail-breakI met somebody.

Normally this would be a great thing, except I was right out of a failed relationship. Not failed because of infidelity or indecency, but failed because of humanity. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Maybe I didn’t try at all. But convincing myself that she wasn’t the one was easier than the self-reflection so I hit my nae nae as I walked out of the door. I didn’t even realize that I’d tripped over the door sweep until I opened my eyes and saw the one who would be next staring down at me as if Allah himself sent her.

Which again, would have been great except, I’d just hit my nae nae and most folks don’t even know what that is. Her included. But hey, woman’s job isn’t to know everything, it’s to show me that I could have been flying the entire time I was walking. And she did. There were no boxes to check off on my list. For a spell she had me buying into the Love Jones definition of romance and I didn’t even like Love Jones. In her I saw the possibilities.

Except I was just out the door.

Love Escapes Us Teaser from #LoveEscapesUs on Vimeo.

But with my confidence in tow and belief that God would neither give me something I couldn’t handle nor records that I couldn’t sample, I ventured into the journey of the unknown with this woman who for all intents and purposes made me smile again. One of those smiles you don’t even realize you’re doing. But once it’s pointed out you’re embarassed because who has a right to be so happy that they don’t even know it? So happy that you feel like you’re in a room without  a ceiling. So happy that basically it is just who you are. I wasn’t that before and yet here I was now.

Happy in a 24-hour video.

I’d found #her. #cool.

Or so I thought. #her quickly became #she and part of that was the walls I’d put up around my heart after my last breakup. To be fair, the devastation of that breakup was far greater than I’d given it credit for and I didn’t even know it until well after I needed to have figured that out. It’s hard to fall in love when you’re wearing a harness that keeps you standing up because falling can hurt like hell. She tried to trip me up though. She gave it her all. Threw her heart out at random intervals and dropped affection and support in my path. And I did the best that I could given my circumstances. Of course, not knowing I had circumstances severely limits how far we could make it.

Was she the one? Maybe. Even now I grapple with that question and enough time has gone by to call it official Black History. Because February. But the nagging is always there. What I do know (now) is that for me, it wasn’t the right time. I hadn’t taken the time to deal with what was and what could have been. I also never accepted the fact that my ability to move on came with strings. I wasn’t going to make the next woman pay for the infallibility of my previous relationship. But who knew that love also worked on credit? This woman, who by any measure adored me and I her stared me dead in my face with the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen and offered her soul to mine and the best I could muster was maybe 60 percent of my humanity and 20 percent of my vulnerability. And even there is some overlap. My soul? I thought she could have it but over time the arguments spurred by both of our inability to recognize where we were in life spurred a certain lack of desire to share with her what made me tick.

Love Escapes Us Teaser #2 from #LoveEscapesUs on Vimeo.

If Sway doesn’t even have the answers then I didn’t even have the questions. The situation fell apart fairly quickly. What God has joined may no man put asunder. I think both of us thought the little twist tie we’d use to keep ourselves together was a bit more deified than perhaps it was.

Wrong time? Probably.

I stared down my angel and asked her why her wings weren’t as pretty as I thought they should be. But they worked. And she flew. And I stood there asking myself why I was still walking instead of flying. But I’d also bought some new shoes and everybody knows you need to break new shoes in. So I let her fly solo. And I kept on walking. Those memories resonate and I still maintain them. The dream of it all mixed with the reality that set in. But it all blends perfectly, let the liquor tell it.

It is often in a brown-induced daze that I ponder the age old question of what matters more: right person or right time? If you meet your soulmate do you focus on that or do you do the work so that soulmate isn’t just something you say because it sounds good? Do you hope to catch them next lifetime when you can make it work? I don’t know. Ignorance is bliss I suppose so even in that line of questioning I hope it kind of works itself out. I mean who wants to think they squandered heaven because their watch broke?

After some time I dedicated myself to moving past the blocks that held me hostage. Ropes and chains just aren’t my thing. I wasn’t a slave, but I heard about it, it didn’t sound cool. Word to D.C. Curry. Maybe had I met her later in my journey we’d be able to walk it out together into some blissful future both of us dreamed about in unison. But we didn’t so we can’t. So we won’t. And I’m not gon’ cry. Plus Argentina is, like, far.

I’m no soothsayer and I leave the wisdom to the sages. But the question will always persist, be it my story or others: what’s more important?

Some people say if its the right person, then its the right time. Some people also say the end is the beginning. Some people are made of plastic, and some people are made of wood.

Right person or right time?

The questions.

(All of this was true.)

-VSB P aka MR. SPLACKAVELLI ak GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

“Love Escapes Us” is the compelling tale of the cycle of love and heartbreak as told through the experiences of two people who fall in love during the wrong season. King (Anthony B. Phillips) and Queen (Iman N. Milner) journey through an emotional path of one another’s love through this poignant story. Can the experience of falling for someone and dealing with unhealed wounds from past relationships simultaneously ever end well. Written by Anthony and Iman and directed by Craig Tovey. Visit the Facebook Page for the Movie: https://www.facebook.com/LoveEscapesUsfilm

All Of Men And Women’s Issues Can Be Tied To This Very Scenario: Do You Want Me To Come Over or Nah?

(via Guymoments)

For those who can’t see the video because your technology is in beta mode circa 2002, let me break this down very simply. And this is a scenario that I’m sure nearly everybody who has ever dated somebody is familiar with.

Girl calls Boy and says she’s in neighborhood and asks him if he wants her to come over.

Boy says, “I ain’t trippin. You can do that.”

Girl says, “What does that mean? Do you WANT me to?”

Boy says, “It’s cool if you come by, but if you don’t, it’s okay too.”

Girl says, “So you aren’t looking forward to me coming by?”

You know how the rest of this goes. Boy gets flustered, girl gets pissed. Boy can’t believe this turned into an actual argument. Girl can’t believe boy doesn’t understand her simple request. Boy realizes he actually doesn’t want her to come over any longer. Girl determines that boy is an asshole.

Quick synopsis here as this situation is likely familiar enough to everybody where much discussion on my part ain’t necessary. I will never understand why this battle gets fought. I really won’t. You called me in the middle of whatever the hell I was doing. Which means that at the time, no, I wasn’t thinking about your monkey ass. But you call and are all like, “Oooooh we love you PJ, I’m around the corner, you want me to stop by.” At which point I’m like, sure, cool. Come thru. That’s the green light. The whole, “wait, but do you want me part” is sooooooooo unnecessary. That’s like calling your damn hairdresser and being like, “hey, I’m free, can you do my hair right now?” She’s like “cool.” You’re not going to ask her, “oh, but do you want to do my hair?”

And miss me with the intimacy. Relationships with hairdressers and barbers are as personal as sh*t gets. You actually have to break up with them. Real talk. I just avoided my barber. It was easier for all of us.

But, I know women have this whole “I want you to want to do xyz”. I even alluded to it in my last post about a perfect man. You want to feel wanted. And that’s cool, and I’m gon’ let you finish, but real spit…bye Felicia.

It’s an unnecessary fight. You called me and I’m like, “it’s cool.” You want me to be just as excited about your idea at the moment you have as you are despite the fact that you probably “ended” up in my neighborhood with a plan in the first place.

This is the breakdown point for men and women. And it was ARTFULLY crafted from the male’s point of view via the video. Especially our frustration. We go from like, “yeah, come thru” to actually NOT wanting you to come by. At all.

Man wants something? He makes the call, gets it, or does it. When presented with option that we’re okay with, we say “cool, that’ll work”. It should end there.

The rest of that drama can be kept for your mama. Oh, and your cousin too.

Ladies, make this make sense to me. Please. Fellas…can you help me??

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. SHE’S KILLIN’ MY VIBE SHE’S KILLIN’ MY VIBE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

The Theory About Lists, Growth, and Love Over Time

Theory-RealityI’ve got a theory I want to drop off on you cool cats. It’s a theory draped in the narrative of…of…hmm…gender-specific mating-centric relationshipism. While they say that proper planning prevents poor performance, Little Richard taught us that a wop bob a loo bop a wop bam boom. Same thing really.

Back to this theory about this narrative. What I’m about to posit will largely engender stereotypes and generalizations. While some of you may not appreciate or enjoy generalizations, I’m going to need you to clap along like you’re in a room without a roof. Be happy, people. Be happy.

I’m of the belief that most women do at some point craft some sort of list of desirable attributes in a mate. You know, the whole “man in her head” syndrome. The guy she dreams will ride in on his white (or racially ambiguous) horse…do animals have races? Maybe not races, I mean we know that animals have races (Man vs. Beast did happen after all) but I mean like races, you know animal social constructs based upon superficial characteristics and such. Like, you know how you should behold the pale horse? Is there a black horse we should behold to?

Consider my mind blown.

Back to this white (ugh, racist) horse that I think women are waiting for Prince Charming or Charmandejuan to ride on with his job, home, perfect teeth, nice body, ability to read, without children, with a savings account with actual savings, who is compassionate, empathetic, affectionate, hung like a horse (again, non-race specific), who not only washes dishes but WANTS to wash the dishes, rubs feet, goes to church, listens to only non-misogynistic hip-hop and/or gospel, 6’5″, etc. Basically, a list of the best qualities one can have and all that jazz. This is what I presume most women have. It might not look like this, and his name may not be Charming or Charmandejuan. Maybe its Bob. Or Siraaj. Or YOLO.

Well, did you know that us men have lists too? There a wee bit shorter. Especially when we’re younger.

Man List: hot. Read? Bonus. Cook? Bonus. Degree? Eh…bonus-ish.

Point is, in our youth, our lists look remarkably different. Here’s where my theory begins to rear its head.

Panama Theorem 2.5: As we get older, women start to remove things from their list and men start to add things to their list.

Removing things from your list isn’t settling, especially if the list is unreasonable to begin wtih. It’s more keeping in line with what actually matters in life and what’s truly important. So at some point, he need not be 6’5″ though it’s still preferred, but those list start to shrink, if not disappear altogether the older you get to the point of, “he made me an eggo, this morning, I’m in love.”

On the flipside, I’ve noticed that while in my youth all conversations pretty much started and ended with “is she hot?” (actually they still all start this way), the things that used to not be explicitly important like good person, fun, good conversationalist, nice, etc started to become more and more important. Now, you might look at that and and say, you basically want a balanced, well-rounded person, and you’d be right.

Now, the key to finding that person for you is that both of those “lists” (really just the things that matter to you most, like God, peanut butter, and Hall & Oates) to align. You happen to meet somebody who has those qualities you’ve reasonabled your list down to as a woman and improved your list up to as a man and #wallahmagic you may have found you a mate.

Of course, this ignores the efelant in the room of “you must find said person attractive” though read the fine print. They don’t have to be attractive, you just have to find them attractive. Which makes them attractive. Remember that horse thing?

Mind blown again.

Or more poetically, didn’t I blow your mind this time, didn’t I? Sing it like a Delfonic. What the f*ck is a Delfonic? You know aside from a member of the group. I do know that if you have more than one Delfonic, you have Delfonics. Fight me.

I just used 700 words to say this:

As we get older, men add things to their “list” of important characteristics and women remove things from their “list of important” characteristics. But along the way I blew your mind twice and mentioned the Delfonics. I won.

So, what say you? Is this theory off base? Does it have merit? Have you done this? I have. I saw the signs.

Talk to me.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. SOLO DELFONIC, I MEAN, IF IT WAS LIKE THE 70S AND ALL WHICH ITS TOTALLY NOT aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL  HE A 3