On the way to get a cut I heard a Katrinaian (that’s what I call the folks who have migrated to the H from the N.O.) ask what’s good with getting a Hurricane Katrina holiday (re: a day off from work)? He said in remembrance of the devastating storm he should be at the house barbecuing and drinking. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Blah Blah Bullshit of the No One Cares Set. Right after he says his name (which I don’t remember), he notes, “But they call me Young Obama.”

Stop that. Obama isn’t a rapper; he’s hopefully the next President. He’s not a gimmick (at least not in a musical sense), so can we not start this? I’ve heard others say this once or twice before, but I see what’s looming on the horizon.

If you turn on the news and hear Georgia and think of ATL, or if your health care policy is a suggestive daily dose of lean, shut the hell up. The same applies to those that think the key to better race relations is to want to smash Ice-T’s wife, Coco, or the desire to implement an immigration policy that calls for an import of Brazilan women. If you fall under any of those categories, don’t mention the words “Young” and “Obama” unless it goes something like, “My young ass is voting for Obama.” You’re trivializing his accomplishments and I haven’t garnered enough signatures to start a race draft yet, so hold that down.

Thank you.

X + Y ‘Til I Die

You’ve never been ostracized and excluded from mainstream society. Your basic human rights were never stripped of you, and you’ve likely enjoyed a life free of death threats. Still, you believe you’ve been ignored for far too long, and now your time has come. Here is your moment to look back at the people who have not rebuked your way of life and say, “I’m still here; I’m not queer; get used to it.”

This is the opener for my piece on the upcoming Straight Pride Parade scheduled in Brooklyn this weekend. Yes, I’m serious. There’s really a display of hetero pride set for Labor Day. If you want to read more (ahh, c’mon nah, don’t you?), click me.

Edit: Based on some of the comments I think some people are basing their entire opinion of the article on one paragraph. I went ahead and bolded the link that way if people are going to comment on what I’m saying, they’ve actually read what I said. No shade, but based on some of what I’ve read there seems to be some confusion.

As always, thanks for reading.

Off The Wall

I’m beginning to think I should revisit the idea of changing my name to Prince. Possibly headed to Peter Pan’s pajama party, the King of Pop and Lace Fronts stepped outside to stunt on ya’ll days before his 50th birthday.

Looking into the camera like he wants to say ‘fresh azimiz…shamon,’ Mike is showing you don’t have to do yoga all day to stay skinny at 50 — just don’t eat. How you like them organic Kabbalah blessed apples, Madonna?

While his wig game is no doubt still proper, how many times are we going to see him in his pajamas? With him owing 50% of the world, has he gone on a pants boycott? And try as he might, you can’t dress up pajama pants. Save the blazer for Halloween when you dress up like an adult, Mike.

Apparently he’s working with Ne-Yo the Negro on his new album. Why does it sound like Louie Vuitton getting together with a Chinese bootlegger to design a new purse? It’s too bad that no matter what the product sounds like, should he keep up with these antics, his album will make Discipline look like Thriller.

Give Her A Coat and Send Her Home

From the looks of it, someone found Solange’s old braids and decided to launch a music career. I don’t know about ya’ll, but T-Baby’s “It’s So Cold In The D” has given me a new perspective on global warming.

For the first two minutes, I wasn’t sure whether or not it was OK to laugh. T-Baby comes across as one of those people that had to wear a bib and were forbidden to use scissors in class if you know what I’m saying.

I love how T-Baby pays tribute to Silkk The Shocker by refusing to rap on beat. That’s right, T-Baby: It ain’t ya’ll fault. The tongue has a mind of its own. I also love how rebellious her dancers are. Who needs rhythm?

Shout out to the video director, too. I took a media production class back in college and I’m feeling good about myself after watching this video. Watch ya ass, Spike Lee.

And to my people from the D, feel lucky I’m partial to your city. I swear if I didn’t have friends from Detroit I would demand we start considering the city a part of Canada.

If you’re interested I’ll be leading a virtual prayer circle for a heatwave to strike Michigan shortly after this post. No need to thank me. I see Detroit needs all the help it can get.

Thanks to Tomer for sending this!

Here’s A Tip

Nelly is about as relevant to music as Side A of Color Me Badd’s C.M.B. on tape. I suppose I should blame the D.J., but can we bury the “Tip Drill” debacle next to Nelly’s rap career? I think the greater issue still stands, but I’m sick of hearing people who can’t make a point one way or the other argue. It’s like watching two people with limp wrists get into a slap boxing match.

Don’t give Nelly anymore press about this. It only prolongs the inevitable: Him getting dropped by Universal and picked up by VH1 for a reality series.

Besides, “Tip Drill” gives the idiot brigade to chime in with:

if she looked half as good as they did she would be stripping and dipping it to…. i bet you if nellz gave her 2000 she would get in the video

Nelly owned that bitch! Fuck all that “black women were offended” bullshit. Black women CHOSE to be in that video. It ain’t Nelly’s fault that there are a lot of black hoes. Str8 up!!

Fuck this bitch. You know she would get on all fours in a g-string for a quarter. She needs to shove a dick in her mouth and shut the fuck up.

shoulda smacked dat bitch…on some real shit…

There it is: proof on why some people should swallow. Let’s keep the debate alive, but let’s opt for an updated target, folks.

Bitter Bill

He just can’t seem to help himself:

The former president, speaking in Denver, posed a hypothetical question in which he seemed to suggest that that the Democratic Party was making a mistake in choosing Obama as its presidential nominee.

He said: “Suppose you’re a voter, and you’ve got candidate X and candidate Y. Candidate X agrees with you on everything, but you don’t think that candidate can deliver on anything at all. Candidate Y you agree with on about half the issues, but he can deliver. Which candidate are you going to vote for?”

Then, perhaps mindful of how his off-the-cuff remarks might be taken, Clinton added after a pause: “This has nothing to do with what’s going on now.”

No matter what you think of Bill Clinton personally, he is a brilliant man and thus, knew exactly what he was doing when he made this comment. You would think he was the one who just lost a primary, but then again, judging from his antics in the primary season, he might as well have been running the way he made everything about him.

Hand Slick Willie his old sax or an unattractive overweight gal’s vagina so he can find something to do with his mouth. What little respect I had for him is slipping away with each and every soundbite.


Perhaps Solange knew the comparisons to Beyonce were unavoidable, which is why she asked, “Let my star light shine on its own/I’m no sister, I’m just my God given name” on the opening track of Sol-Angel and the Hadley Street Dreams. But if she thought that alone would end the discussion: uh oh uh oh uh oh, oh no no..

As Solange tries to cast herself as the weed smoking, foul mouthed, rebellious sibling who’s antithetical to the clean-cut brand popularized by her sister, her efforts only make her seem just as contrived as Beyonce. It’s a common problem among many contemporary artists: Trying to force a conclusion on audiences versus letting them draw their on. The key to being different is to just be, which is why Solange should let her music speak for itself. It’s certainly good enough to.

On her sophomore album, we find a more polished and cohesive effort than its 2003 predecessor, Solo Star. Much of that has to due with the now 22-year-old’s maturation as an artist. Whereas Solo Star seemed devoid of direction with its heap of influences, Sol-Angel and the Hadley Street Dreams suggests Solange has finally discovered a more concise sound she’s comfortable with.

The album is a hybrid of Motown soul and contemporary pop — not too far away from the sound big sis initially aimed for in her solo endeavor before the failure of “Work It Out.”

The mix makes for infectious tracks that showcase charm (“I Decided”), wit (“T.O.N.Y.”), and spunk (“Would’ve Been The One”). And when she’s not riding down the retro road, the superb “Sandcastle Disco” and euphoric “Cosmic Journey” prove the youngest Knowles is equally adept with modern sounds.

A drawback of the set is for all her good intentions there are instances where she falls flat. Despite her vocal growth, her voice doesn’t always capture the depth she tries to convey in tracks like “Valentine’s Day” and “I Told You So.” None of these minor flaws take too much away from Solange’s major effort to reestablish herself as a credible artist.

With the likes of Amy Winehouse already taking their Motown homage’s to the top of charts, Sol-Angel… may not seem as unique as intended, but it’s certainly impressive, and more importantly, refreshing – qualities that should see Solange deliver on the dreams of Hadley Street a lot sooner than relying on being different would.

Get Your Shine On

Terrence Howard strikes me as the type I would find at an open mic night. The one who swears he’s the deepest, most insightful person in the room when he introduces himself on stage. Ultimately you discover this person’s greatest talent is their ego. That and they’re nuttier than a bag of peanuts.

Actors can be so extra. Many of them are narcissistic to the point of ad nauseam. Terrence Howard – with his lengthy diatribe about whatever pseudo spiritual talk he was espousing to shill his album – personifies being extra.

Only he would recite prepared monologue at a concert. I’m not surprised in a performance video that’s 4 minutes and 42 seconds long, he only spent a little more than a minute actually performing. See? Extra.

Then again after watching the performance, maybe he should have kept yapping about the moon, the stars, and the soul and conclude it with “…and scene.” Thanks to him, I now have a greater appreciation for Tyra Bank’s music career. Tyra ‘preciates ya , Slickback.

Can someone send him a couple dozen scripts to keep him occupied?

PUMAS, Take Note

I’m not alone.

Tricks On You

I love my people, but this is starting to turn into an abusive relationship. Somehow, someway, we have to get a racial draft going. I will trade a number of the dumb asses for Shia LaBeouf or the dude from The Soup. At least they’re entertaining.

Take for example, this story. Look, I don’t want to die, but I’m saying: You stole someone’s chain and then you head to YouTube to talk about it. Either you’re untouchable or dumb as hell. I wasn’t sure of which until I read the description on YouTube.

Trick Trick’s Brother Diesel is sporting Yung Berg’s $70,000 TransFormer Chain, It has been noted that Diesel is known Club Bouncer and Jack boy, (at Plan B Night Club in Detroit). Employed by Peter Arabo. He is also a rapper under Trick Trick’s Goon Squad. We hear from inside sources in Detroit that Diesel sells small amounts cocaine around Detroit and known for jackmoves. Kind of funnie but Diesel is also sewing the Detroit Police Department for apperntly shooting him.. Real Street NIGGA Taking The Police To Court. The funnie thing is the police never even shot his ass. Some random guy on the street infront of Envy Night Club In Detroit was firing shots.

So this person can pretty much do as he pleases, I guess. Still, why? What’s the point? Then again, when you walk around with a diamond Transformer chain around your neck, aren’t you asking for it? I sort of feel bad for Yung Berg, but then I recall his “dark butt” diatribe and find the irony in all of this.

Wait, who cares. Look at the writing. What’s up with “sewing” the DPD? Why do people hate reading so much? Spell check does not lower your credit, folk! Reading can’t make you burn either. Damn, do they have to start wrapping books in Trojans to get some people to give them a glance? If so, I’ll donate some condoms now. But probably Lifestyles — I’m not wasting too much money on lost causes.

But seriously, I can’t take it anymore. The way things are going, I think I’m going to start a new segment on this blog called “I Hate Black People.” I actually hate everyone, but I should start with home first, no?