Getting Religion

So, I heard a report this morning that Jay-Z has had a come-to-Jesus moment about the "B-word"; since having his newborn daughter, he's decided that he should stop calling women b--ch in his music. I'm going to go ahead and assume that he's not going to use the word in his conversation either (although I could still use some convincing on this point). Isn't that nice?

Of course, the news reporter asked, "If he's not using the b-word, what is he going to call his wife?" It was, of course, a joking play on Beyonce's name, but I thought it was actually an appropriate comment. If he loves his wife, why in the world did it not occur to him to stop calling women b--ch before now? Isn't she somebody's daughter? Couldn't he see womanhood in his wife and conclude that using that word was a bad idea? He says he won't allow anyone to disrespect his precious daughter. Lovely. 'Cause all those other women? They're not anybody's daughter. That's why it's okay to call them out of their names. Right?

I started to think, well, maybe he's getting older and maturing. That's happened to other rappers. Age brings a clarity that was missing before. But then, I thought, "Isn't he, like, old?" Well, old for a rapper. Even accounting for boys' alleged lag in maturity, he should have gotten it together by now.

Then, I started to think, well, everyone is changed in fundamental ways by having a child. They see the world through new ideas. They take fewer chances. They pay more attention. But then, I thought, "Don't you just write a book about your life?" Didn't that process offer some opportunity for self-reflection? And have you been deaf for the last twenty years? Thoughtful, bright, culturally aware people have been making the case for hip-hop to censor itself, especially with regard to its sexism and misogyny. Even accounting for new-parent epiphanies, he should have engaged this debate before.

In short, I'm not impressed by this epiphany. I think it's as silly as naming your child after your favorite color.

So Over It

Things about which I do not give a crap: 1) Charlie Sheen--I'm not fascinated. I'm really just thinking, "Sit down somewhere and hush up." He might as well be dancing around naked with bird poop on his head for all the dignity he's showing. 2) The royal wedding. I love a wedding. Seriously. But I don't know these people. They are not friends of mine, and their displays of excess are not interesting to me. Also, I don't know these people! Are Will and Kate going to be all captivated and hopping a plane over here when I have my totally fabulous 25th anniversary vow renewal ceremony in 15 years? Doubtful. 3) Justin Beiber. Or, as The Babydoll says, Justin Beaver. I just never got into star worship, so I don't get it. Michael Jackson was the closest I ever came to it, and come on--JB might be the bee's knees, but is he MJ? I know I'm not the right demographic, but what is it that makes him such a phenomenon? I don't get it. Post Script: I'm adding a number 4: Christians who claim that the 1950s were some utopian moment of virtue in America. I was fishing around, looking into parenting books suggested by a woman I used to know in high school. I was directed to a number of similar books. At first they seemed intersting and useful, but then I saw that they see the entire world as enemy territory, full of evil feminists and sex-crazed liberals who have ruined the clean living morality of yesterday. But all I can wonder is whether they are talking about the "Christians" who were holding signs and screaming at Ruby Bridges or the ones who thought that God hates women who have jobs. It's making me think of some very un-Christlike words.

Keeping It Real

I started this post to briefly comment on the tone of political rhetoric in light of the Arizona shootings, but I was watching The View the other day, and as usual, they were saying things (or omitting things) that got on my nerves, so I'm going to discuss them both.

First, Sherri told Elisabeth that every situation is not all black and white and Whoopi made the joke that it is at their table. Then Barbara said not to her because she doesn't see color; that was the way she was raised. I know she thinks that is good, but to me, it is not. It is, at best, a cop out and at worst, racist. As a cop out, it doesn't require you to make any distinctions among people when people are filled with distinctions and nuance. It's like when schools have zero tolerance policies and they don't have to think through the differences in a student bringing a plastic knife to school and a machete.

It can be racist in that it allows one to assume everyone is like them, that they want to be like them. (Because, if we're honest, we relate to people from our own frame of reference first and foremost.) It denies their culture, their history, and their experience.

I can't speak for every racial and ethnic minority or every black person, for that matter, but I want you to see me as black. I am a black woman and I am proud of it; I love being black. Being a black woman affects the way I experience the world. I don't see anything wrong with it and I don't see anything wrong with people recognizing my race. It becomes problematic when you think (consciously or unconsciously) that being black somehow makes me less than or when you begin to assume certain negative things about me just because of my race (or my gender).

Switching gears:

There's so much discussion now about the tone of political rhetoric and whose to blame for the tragedy in Arizona. It seems the politically correct thing to say is that no one is to blame but the shooter and that there's vitriolic talk on both sides of the political aisle. Maybe, but it seems to me that some people are trying to have their cake and eat it, too. I will use as an example Sarah Palin because the focus has been on her, but she is not the only one who does this. Rappers, actors, etc. do it, too. Whenever something negative happens and fingers are pointed at popular points of influence, everyone is quick to assert their blamelessness. They had no influence over that emotionally or mentally disturbed person. But in times of positivity and financial opportunity, then they are glad to have influence.

Sarah Palin gives speeches, writes books, and garners high ratings on television. She has been called a king maker because of her influence in getting people elected to office. How in the world can she abdicate her influence now? I don't believe she intended for that disturbed man in Arizona to kill people, but she put her words out there and she has to understand that ill people are going to take them how they take them. She cannot claim that her words do not add to the violent tone of political debate now when that's part of how she makes her bread and butter.

Rappers and rockers are similar. They make money influencing people; if their words and music had no power, no one would buy it. So, when that power extends itself in a way that is unfavorable, it is disingenuous for them to say, "I have no power. I have no influence." Because that's not true and they don't really want it to be true or they would be out of business.

Just keep it real, folks.

I'm not bitter, but . . .

if ONE more FLIPPIN' questionably literate reality show spectacle gets a book deal for a book that I'm sure someone else wrote, and ends up on the bestseller list, I cannot be responsible for my complete flip out . . . .

AND TODAY: another rejection for publication. sigh.

Trying to Stay Relevant?

Are you kidding me?!?

I didn't think of Lohan once during this commercial.

Stay Outta Grown Folks' Business

I question myself as a mother. A lot. Did we pick the right pre-school? Is her outfit cute enough? Am I giving them enough spiritual guidance? Am I giving them too much ice cream? Right about now, though, I'm feeling pretty good about one particular parenting choice.


I almost named my son Kanye.


But I didn't.


Thank God.


We originally wanted a K name, and Kanye had a nice ethnic, original sound and meaning without being weird. Ultimately, we figured that it was just too dangerous to choose a rapper's name. I didn't want to explain for the rest of his life that, no, he was not named after West. After Kanye's ridiculous outburst at the VMAs, he can have that name all to himself.



For those who didn't watch because they don't care (like me), West appeared out of nowhere on stage when Taylor Swift was receiving her award for Best Female Video, snatched the microphone, and basically said that Beyonce should have won. Now I'm no big Beyonce fan either, but I'll give it to her; when she accepted another award later, she yielded her time to Swift so that she could have her moment. That was classy and compassionate. There was no reason for West to steal Swift's shine. Remember that line about opening your mouth and removing all doubt that you're a fool? Nobody asked for his opinion. He didn't need to defend Beyonce's honor. I assume that he didn't have anything specific against Taylor Swift. He's just a buttwipe and everybody seems to agree. Plus, I like that song.


It's a little disappointing to me that he's so unlikeable because his music is interesting. And, truthfully, I just wanted to like him because his mother was an English professor.


Alas, that dream is over. He's a buttwipe. Good luck with that.

Small Sacrifices

In the wake of Michael Jackson's death many people say that they are sooo concerned for his children, but it seems to me the kids are just a means by which interviewers can gain ratings and interviewees can have 15 minutes of fame. Why is there now public speculation about the biological father of the two oldest kids? I mean, yes, I always said those two kids were not MJ's, but I didn't go looking for the actual father. Why would they broadcast the information that not only is Michael Jackson not the biological father, but also that the dermatologist is? What if the kids didn't know? And what are they supposed to think about the way they were conceived and transferred (for lack of a better word)? Is there no need for discretion?

It also bothers me that MJ spent so much effort hiding the identity of his children. They wore masks and hats and blankets so that no one would be able to identify them as Michael Jackson's children. Now, immediately after his death, people are plastering their faces all over the news. I know people think that was just a part of MJ's kookiness, but I believe he wanted those kids to have some semblance of a normal life. Something that couldn't be achieved if everybody knows what they look like. The other day Blanket's godfather had pictures and home videos of the kids on The Today Show. What's crazy is he also showed a video of the time he rented out a supermarket so that Mike could shop and fill up a shopping cart like a regular person. It's crazy because he was well aware of the cost of fame for Michael Jackson; this man had never been able to even go grocery shopping like a regular person. Now, however, the godfather was participating in making it difficult for Prince, Paris and Blanket to go shopping like a regular person without being mobbed.

You can disagree, but I really don't think these people are all that concerned about the best interest of the children.

In other news, Mark Sanford doesn't seem to be caring all that much about the best interest of the children. His children. First, dude, create a cover story. If you are going to run away to cheat on your wife and you are the governor of a state, you cannot just disappear. Put your ducks in a row before you leave. Second, and this relates to the kids, SHUT UP! I get that you are in love with your mistress, but for the dignity and emotional health of your children, stop flaunting it all up and through the public. Stop (inadvertently) dogging your wife--your sons' mother--by saying she ain't the one. You may feel this way, but respect the marriage and your sons' view of their mother enough not to say it out loud. My mama always taught me that everybody ain't got to know your business.

The community's public persona gives a lot of lip service to the concern for children, but I think we ought to actually do what's in their best interest rather than just talking about it.

Sigh

In the cool light of day (well, it won't be cool here for very long, but . . . ) I'm trying to figure out how the deaths of two people I've never met makes me feel. Farrah Fawcett did have a beautiful smile and seemed to be a zesty sort of lady. Clearly, Ryan O'Neal loved her from his guts. And "The Burning Bed" makes me cry every time. And isn't it awful that after the creepy death watch people have been keeping for months, she's now just fading away under the shadow of MJ?

And now, Michael. Dear Michael. The "tributes" being relentlessly played on television are a sad testimony to the country's relationship to MJ. What occurs to me now is that I didn't know him. And he was weird. My only real relationship to him is his music, in all it's brilliant glory. I remember watching the "Thriller" video at my childhood skating birthday party. It was a mind blowing experience. And my head and hands automatically do the "Thriller" dance as soon as I hear the first note. So, instead of having clueless 20 year olds acknowledge the well-known fact that they all stole from MJ, I'd really rather just hear his music. (My husband asked me not to get second rate statisticians to comment on him if he passes. Ha!) To quote Country Fried Mama, "Spare us the inarticulate commentary and play the man’s videos like you did back in the day." That's all I need.

You Look Mahvelous!

Last night's Academy Awards was an occasion for Hollywood to don it's most beautiful looks and for fans and fashion pundits to pontificate about them. (Oh, and to honor talent and hard work.) I don't want to add to the fodder of talking negatively about people's clothing (although I question Alicia Keys' make-up choice); instead, I wanted to give a shout-out to Taraji P. Henson. I think she's pretty fantastic and she looked gorgeous last night. She may not have won in the category of Best Supporting Actress (for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button), but I am glad she was nominated.

I first paid attention to her in that forgettable movie, Baby Boy and I have liked her ever since. I especially loved her in Hustle & Flow (even if she was overly sweaty in this movie like people in the South are perpetually hot and have no access to air conditioners). I didn't see Benjamin Button because DH refused to see it, but if Henson was nominated for her role in it, I can only assume that she is superb in it.

I'm glad to see Black women being given roles that are not typical (maids, angry wives/girlfriends, hookers, etc.) and I'm glad to see them being recognized for the work they do. I am especially glad to see Henson being recognized which just proves that I was right all along.

In My Sister's Shadow

I am an older sister so I don't know what it is like to live in the shadows. I hope and have tried to encourage my siblings to create their own aura of light so that they they do not ever have to worry about any residual darkness that may fall from mine. I think they have done this as they are good at what they do and good at who they are (shout out to my parents who helped--LOL).

So, it saddens me when I see celebrity siblings who seem to be desperately trying to emerge from the shadows of their (often) more successful siblings. They do the most ridiculous things so that, I suppose, we will stop calling them Sally Mae's Little Sister and John Boy's Little Brother. And so that we will take them seriously. For instance, Ray J. Why in the world did he try to come out all gangsta in the early part of the century when he is from McComb, MS,--McCOMB!--the son of a gospel singer and the brother of Brandy, sweet pop star Brandy? And a sex tape, Ray J? Really? Then there's Jamie Lynn Spears, whom I guess doesn't really fit this paradigm as one teenage pregnancy hardly distinguishes you from the dead lights of Britney's drama. But the one that I am most appalled by at this moment is Beyonce's sister (who is still just Beyonce's sister at this point), Solange. What is this?

BEYONCE KNOWLES' little sister SOLANGE is set to shock fans on her new album by singing about drug-fuelled sex.The pretty 22-year-old, who was a mum at 18, sings about smoking marijuana and making love on a new Lil Wayne duet, called ChampagneChronicNightcap.And she insists every track on her new album Sol-AngeL & The Hadley St.Dreams is written from personal experience.She tells Giant magazine, "I am unapologetic; I don't write about things unless they're true. I'm a grown-ass woman and I've experienced grown-ass things." Source

I get that she may be grown and she wants people to recognize her "growness," but it has always been apparent to me that if you're grown, you don't have to try to prove it. You just be grown and people will recognize that. And you really don't have to put all of your business out there; grown folks keep that kind of business to themselves. If singers want to sing about adult topics, there's poor health care for adults and children, domestic violence, a rising HIV rate among Black folk, especially women, police brutality, an alarming rate of foreclosure in our community, the election. These are topics that concern grown folk. Okay, these topics probably won't sell records (but they should). One could sing about his/her take on spirituality, important (non-sexual) relationships, being a mother or father. Why is the default way to prove one's maturity sex? It seems to me if that's what someone thinks makes him/her grown, they're not really. And then to promote irresponsible sex on top of that?

I haven't heard Solange's whole album yet (and I probably won't), so maybe this song is just one anomaly among a bevy of mature, responsible songs. But this is not a good way to promote them. And it's not a good way to make a (good) name for yourself.