Some Revolution

In the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly, Glee is proclaimed to be leading a ‘gay teen revolution’ on TV. And in an issue of Newsweek published last December, Dan Savage said that Glee along with The Ellen DeGeneres Show have won the culture war for gays.

With all due respect to Glee creator, Ryan Murphy, whose career I greatly admire, and Ellen DeGeneres, a person I adore, I find both these statements to be mighty white, rooted in a privileged point of view, not to mention flat out wrong.

In my newest piece for The Root, I explain why.

One quick thing, though: The site obviously has a black focus, and yes, I did denote the lack of black gay characters on television, but hopefully you get from the actual piece that I feel when it comes to what we see on TV now, a fair share of the gay characters are one note in both black and white. That’s helpful but not challenging.

Alright, if you care to check it out – and uh, if you’re here, you should – go ahead and click here.

Please hit ‘Like’ on Facebook and pass it around, leave a comment there and all that great stuff.

It’s Your Party, But I’ll Shade If I Want To

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Typically, I’m all for people twirking something on the weekend (or during the week because it’s best that way, depending on where you live), but I have to say if you went to the following party on Friday I kind of hope you had the worst time ever:

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Closet Freak

“I just finished watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Are you going to buy Lawrence’s album?”

My friend asked me this late last night after consuming what I assume was her third class of wine. I responded accordingly: “Fuck no.”

I’m sure that response doesn’t surprise anyone who reads this site regularly.

It’s not that I have anything against Lawrence personally. Actually, he seems quite nice so I’m glad that he’s able to live out his singing dreams outside of the occasional solo in the gospel choir. At the same time, though, he didn’t give me much of a reason to take him seriously as a singer during his first televised performance on Bravo’s Watch What Happens.

Instead of actually singing the song, Lawrence kind of just stood there, posed, and then waved his arms like he was directing the landing of Soul Plan as Andy Cohen eagerly cheered him on. And once you factor into the costume he wore it’s no wonder why more people found themselves curious about his duct tape game than his artistry.

His antics reminded me of those drag shows I used to see at certain gay clubs in Houston. For those of you unaware, just picture men in 1980s themed prom gowns doing karaoke to Patti Labelle’s version of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” and/or some some gospel song for singles in a “hot sweaty black club.”

This was often the part of the night where I peaced out and rolled on to Whataburger for a fish sandwich and chicken strips. Sometimes those shows can be entertaining, but often I just find myself confused and uninspired. It was easy for me to pretty much ready to dismiss him based off that.

Then I heard his single in full.

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When Pigs & Birds Collide

In a little over a week, much of America will be glued to FOX to watch Super Bowl XLV.

Though I’ll be watching with the rest of you, I’m admittedly not exactly the biggest football fan. Like, I have watched a lot of the Houston Texans games this season, but that didn’t make me more of a football enthusiast. All it did was send my cussing count to record highs.

Seriously, it’s a great thing that they’ve hired a new defensive coordinator because for a while there the Houston Texans were looking like the Ciara of football.

Needless to say, I’m not getting a lot out of this game next weekend – especially considering the teams involved.

The Green Bay Packers? So while I’m glad the people of Wisconsin have something to be geeked about, the only team I’m into with colors like that is The Mighty Ducks.

As for the Steelers, uh, I can still remember the Houston Oilers. We don’t love you hoes. Not now. Not ever.

In the past, I would be able to at least take comfort in the commercials and more specifically, the Super Bowl’s halftime show. That is, before Janet Jackson. Just when I thought I let it go, I read about the The Black Eyed Peas being tapped to perform and I immediately want to call Mrs. Gordon.

Stop, I’m kidding about that but certainly not about preferring to watch a pre-loss Biggest Loser sex tape than a Black Eyed Peas concert.

So what’s there to look forward to if you don’t fit the profile of the regular Super Bowl Fans?

Uh, there’s food. I mean, I’ll probably make some wings and drink. Of course, on a Sunday I would find reason to do that anyhow? And before you even judge me, it beats eating mystery meat tacos for .7 cents from that fast food place.

Ah, and then there’s the really aspect of the Super Bowl: The show before, after, and in some cases during the actual game.

I’m so glad that World Star Hip Hop hasn’t been shut down because now I can look forward to all of the post-Super Bowl entertainment its offspring, Groupie Fest, will provide.

Do you know I’ve already seen a couple of different blog posts offering tips on how to nab a baller during Super Bowl weekend?

You know, tips like saving up for a good purse in an effort to snatch a man wearing expensive shoes. Or really, really helpful suggestions like bathing and not telling whatever 90 men you meet that weekend about your car being snatched in a title loan failure.

I can’t tell if the writers are being facetious, but I’m certain a few readers read their posts like it was the gospel.

Just the other day someone was like, “Oooh, are you going to Dallas next week?”

Hell no, I’m not. I’m already anticipating the melee that awaits LA come All-Star Weekend 2011.

While I wouldn’t mind a student loan sponsor, I’m not being stabbed in the temple with a stiletto. I’ll watch the fight online, though, so please bring your Flip Cams.

That said, good luck to you folks heading to D-Town ready to go down for the come up. Feel free to drop your strange change on the donate button on the side.

Better Me, Fitter You

By now you’ve realized that when it comes to making note of certain holidays or traditions, I’m either a little late or a few days early.

But whenever I do decide to chime in, it usually feels like perfect timing once it’s released.

After last week’s manic-themed blog post about Satan’s henchmen (i.e. the private student loan industry) deciding to soil my life day by way of a ridiculous hike in my student loan payments, I think this entry about my plans for 2011 is right on schedule (even if it is on CP time).

You know, given this isn’t a real option.

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I Want To Ignore Their Kind, But I Can’t

When I read about the Christian therapist in Britain facing the loss of her license over her claims that she can ‘cure’ change gay men, I had the obvious reaction:

According to Lesley Pilkington, she knows how to fight the feeling because her son is gay. Wait, her son is actually straight only he merely has a “homosexual problem.” A problem that can be linked to mental illness and the Devil.

Yes, Lesley is the kind of person you’ll likely find doing the same ole two-step.

Her solution to removing the gay from a man’s life?

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Way To Go, J.Lo!

The last time I wrote about a Jennifer Lopez song, I wasn’t particularly nice. In a review of “Fresh Out The Oven” I wrote that I’d rather hear a mixtape from Rosie Perez. That was probably the nicest thing I said, too.

I wasn’t happy to write any of that, though, because I like a lot of Jennifer Lopez’s music. Well, before it started to suck. I haven’t claimed anything before “Get Right” until now.

After two disappointing albums, a random alter ego named “Lola” and a bunch of a ill advised single choices I assumed that Jennifer Lopez the singer was over.

And then I saw this clip. This magical clip of Jenny giving exactly all that made me love her.

Sure, she sings over other people’s vocals, and yes, she sometimes steals people’s songs from them. But dammit, J.Lo gives it in a video. Look at her. Doesn’t she look amazing? My shallowness is in full glee.

Yes, I agree that she kind of looks like Beyoncé’s long lost Spanish auntie, but so what? The Queen borrowed from Jenny and Jenny is now borrowing from her. It’s the circle of twirk.

After watching this clip I went and found the full version of the song. I am in love now. I didn’t think The-Dream and Tricky Stewart were going to do much with Jennifer considering they didn’t do a great deal for Ciara. I have a bit of hope now.

Now, I’m not entirely sure this song will do well on the charts. Even if it doesn’t though, this video gives me reason to renew my interest in Jennifer Lopez’s recording career. She is still capable of giving me meaningless, superficial songs that I can get up and dance to. That’s all we can really ask of our marginally talented pop singers, really.

So, kudos to you Jennifer. Not only did you get me to watch American Idol for the first time since George W. Bush’s reelection, but now you’ve got me singing along to you again.

I’m excited. So excited that I went back and gave your Neptunes track another try. That didn’t turn out too well, but hey, you can’t win ‘em all, girl.

Feelin’ It

I have never felt more defeated in my life than I did yesterday.

Yesterday, I started my day with a phone call that quickly resulted in me spending two hours of my life crying on the phone with two separate student loan companies. I do not like to cry. Ever. As I broke down over the phone I admitted to myself and out loud that I felt humiliated.

Not only that, I felt less of a man and I honestly haven’t the slightest idea how to move forward. After those phone calls, I honestly just wanted to give up on everything.

And when I say give up, I mean really end it.

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Light, Dark & Stupid

Considering how it’s only a day after Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s holiday I suppose that I should be more respectful towards my black brethren. As in don’t use racial slurs, curse words, or hurl any other insults in offense over this flier. Because you know, Dr. King so wouldn’t want that. He’d probably want me to pray for these promoters and not go all Uncle Ruckus on them.

But you know what, Dr. King? While I am forever grateful for what you and so many others did for the betterment of people of color and poor people alike, sometimes people’s actions warrant a curse out.

See what I mean?

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No One Cares Anymore, Foxy

When I was around the age of seven, maybe eight a friend of mine by the name of Squirrel played the hell out of me in my own sister’s car after I used the word “fresh” to describe something. I don’t remember what exactly I was referring to, but I do vividly recall pulling out the Sharpstown Mall parking lot and Squirrel immediately laughing at me before saying, “Man, don’t nobody say ‘fresh’ no more. We say ‘tight.’ You sounding real lame right now.”

Or something to that effect. Either way, you get the point: The lil’ bastard My friend shaded me in the name of keeping me current.

At the time, I wanted to smack the nuts out of his mouth (I assume this is the portion of the tale where I say ‘pause’ or something, goofy asses). In hindsight, though, Squirrel was right to call me out on being dated. Sometimes, you need someone to be a real friend and tell you that the words coming out of your mouth are two paces behind everyone else.

Which leads me to Lil’ Kim and Foxy Brown.

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