youtube videos of the year

I love youtube.com! It's where you can find your favorite cinematic moments, hip hop videos, the latest dance craze, or some random weird video. Well, I've probably watched thousands of youtube.com videos this year, so I thought I'd post my ten favorite. Feel free to post some of your favorite stuff in the comments. Peace.

10) Crank Dat Jumprope

There were tons of crank dat dances this year, but this one is by far my favorite. These little dudes are creative as hell.



9) Deadly Adventures Internet Gangsta Edition

This is so timely and so true. lol



8) Flea Market Montgomery

You gotta respect my man's gangsta, local tv commercials will never be the same again.



7) Unforgiveable

This young man got issues! This is what happens when a little brotha starts playing "I wanna be a pimp."



6) The N-Word

The n-word was a hot topic this year, and this was a humorous take on the whole situation.



5) Sensual Seduction

Doggy Dogg is a fool for this one....sit back and enjoy!



4) Looking Ass Nikkuh!

This has to be the most ingnit-est song I ever heard...but it's kind of funny and brilliant in its own way. lol



3) Pay Roll Da Pimp vs. Ice T

"I see you got your Halloween hand strong." Enough said. lol Unfortunately it's not embedded.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=2Yv3qcLERJs

2) Penis Power

This sista is wild and scorned and a little crazy. But don't sleep ladies, you might learn something.



1) "Oh, You Mad Cause I'm Stylin On You"

Before you say this to somebody, get your weight up! Ouch!

from me to you

peace family.

this year was a tough year, but a good year.

it was challenging in a way that reminded me, none of us gets through this thing alone. we need each other. you all represent a piece of me, no matter how tiny or how large; from lifelong fixtures, to distant acquaintances, my every day circle, to budding new friendships.

despite the distance, frequency with which we talk or see each other, or even our fall-ins or fall-outs, i value you all equally.

each phone call, email, text, drink, bite to eat, and smile was invaluable, and you’ll never know just how much it meant to me.

thank you.

so, instead of celebrating unnecessary gift giving this time of year, let’s celebrate the road traveled.

the uphill climbs, the obstacles we overcame, the people we lost along the way, and the ones we’re grateful to still have with us.

let’s celebrate unforeseen blessings, and new beginnings.

let’s celebrate the challenge to get better, love harder, forgive quicker, and live longer.

let’s celebrate the fact that we’re still here, and that there’s still time to say the unsaid.

let’s celebrate peace and abundance in the world, while being mindful of all those at war, and all those stranded in poverty.

let’s celebrate wisely and safely. because in ‘08, i look forward to moving forward with each one of you.

happy holidays, peace.

zeitgeist

WATCH THIS MOVIE.

MAKE YOUR FAMILY WATCH IT.

MAKE YOUR FRIENDS WATCH IT.

THEN, LET'S TAKE BACK THE WORLD TODAY.

ZEITGEIST

bang...

the world spins and people die like when a gun revolves
i guess life’s a murder mystery that goes unsolved
cheating death with every sun i watch rise to the crest
steady beats of broken flesh resonate in my chest
am i an angel with unseen wings, am i death
a righteous life, an evil demon, or the last man left
i’m writing for right, i sip long, at night i zone
then type songs to fight those who siding with wrong
from intuition and spidey senses, my body twitches
rarely believe, therefore i’m rarely deceived
i achieved a certain stance cause i’m hard and enhanced
started naive and grew now i’m raw and advanced
when i trance, i see bloody white sheets and gauze
forensic labs, and killers who evade the laws
this life’s a murder plot and we’re all involved
the world spins and people die like when a gun revolves

dear diary

dear diary,

remember when i used to talk to you about how i couldn't cry? remember when i used to tell you about how i'd lay in bed and try my hardest to squeeze some form of relief from my eyes, only to fall asleep on my dry pillow? remember when i used to pretend that not crying was a good thing, and would puff out my chest as i told people that i had only cried ONE time since i was thirteen? well, let's just say i'm not that guy anymore. i've cried twice this year already, which is more than i have in the past twenty one years. maybe all the years of holding in my emotions is starting to catch up with me. maybe this has been an unusually difficult year. or maybe i've finally reached a point in my life where i'm truly comfortable with letting go.

i think my heart used to be bigger, no, really. i know for a fact, at one time it held more love, more kindness, more forgiveness. not that it isn't still filled with all those stellar attributes, but somehow it feels smaller, and maybe a little less concerned. maybe my heart is the total sum of everything i love, and every time i lose a loved one, to death, or a failed relationship, maybe i also lose a small piece of me. over a period of time, all those loses have left me with a much smaller heart. so how do i overcome this small heart affliction? well, if i'm lucky, i can make my heart bigger. i can find new things to care about. i can invite new people into my life, and i can take a chance all over again. the bigger a heart gets, the more painful it feels when loss is experienced. this is why so many people lust rather than love. it's also why it's easier to let a good thing slip through your fingers, than give effort to keeping it. ultimately, it's the FEAR and PAIN that keeps people running in the wrong directions. i for one am done being one of those people.

reciprocity. in a perfect world, if i reciprocated what people gave me, i'd be happy. unfortunately, most people tend to give you way less than you feel you deserve. in this scenario, reciprocating means you start giving less as well. suddenly, no one is giving anything, which means no more relationship. the reality is most relationships ARE NOT built on reciprocity. most are built on one person giving a little more than the other, and tolerating what that person isn't willing to give. this notion is the basis for what i call the "star theory". the star theory is simple, in 95% of all relationships, if we're honest, we'll have to admit, one person is the star. and the star, no matter how great they may treat you, is unable to reciprocate the same level of love and interest being thrust upon them. this is why i believe in 95% of all relationships, one person is with the person of their dreams, and the other person feels, there MAY be someone out there who's better. only in 5% of all relationships do i believe both parties, if given a choice to pick who they have vs. who's out there, would pick each other again. so why's everyone picking the wrong people? maybe love is like black jack. conventional wisdom says if you're dealt an 18, you hold. you don't risk going for 21 because you may crap out an lose the 18. the pain of being in and out of bad relationships even causes some people to fear losing a 16, 15, or 14. once again, FEAR and PAIN become the weapons that keep us from the happiness we truly desire.

so where does this all leave me? it leaves me a work in progress. as much as i know about women and relationships, it's obvious i haven't even begun to know enough. i am a recent divorcee, which means for all of my theory, i'm a failure. but that doesn't make me want to throw a pity party for myself, quite the contrary. it makes me live life urgently, like a gun is pointed at my head and every decision depends on my survival. i live in the moment, i don't put things off, i try to say what i feel when i feel it, because i now know how precious time is. i also know how precious people are. there is no excuse for not investing in people in this life. "thank you" goes a long way. so does "i'm sorry". so does "i love you". so does "thinking of you". so do phone calls, emails, and text messages. and holding hands, kissing, making love, and doing whatever you must to make someone feel confident and wanted. i've made this promise to myself, if i like someone, i'll tell'em. if i love someone, i'll show'em. but i will not settle for excuses, or those who can't reciprocate what it is i'm trying to give. you can't hate a person for not giving you what you derserve, but you can hate yourself for sticking around to deal with it. so from here on out, what i feel is the only truth, and if someone doesn't make me feel good, i don't need them. i can deal with things not working out. i've promised myself, in the future i won't be afraid to shed tears, or take a chance on someone in order to make my heart become a little bigger than it already is. the truth is obvious. i am not who i was yesterday. i am different. i am better.

- hardCore

the "nigga" police

"why do i call myself a nigga you ask me/cause police always wanna harrass me" - mc ren

So, it's Saturday night. You're chilling out with friends watching college football at a local bar. Drinking, laughing, basically kicking it! There's lots of loud conversation and horseplay. Somewhere during the discourse you or one of your friends does the unimaginable; YOU SAY THE WORD "NIGGA". Suddenly everyone in the bar stops talking. We start to hear police sirens in the distance. Growing closer, and closer, and closer! Tires squeal. Sirens stop. Sound of two car doors slamming. Red and blue lights spinning light up the dark parking lot. The front door flies open. Two middle aged men bust into the bar, guns drawn. Their names, Rev. Al Sharpton & Rev. Jesse Jackson. They run up on the culprit and yell FREEZE! They read him his rights, hancuff him, and drag him away to "Being A Bad Nigga Prison". What you've just witnessed is a sign of the times. And clearly illustrates what most would love to see happen, any and every time you use the word..."nigga".

At the heart of the "nigga" debate is a growing and ever widening generation gap. On one side you have the civil rights generation. These are the people who marched and fought against blantant racist and the word "nigger". They were hosed down, bitten by dogs, spit on, and were dehumanized for the sake of one cause, ending racism. For them, to embrace the word "nigga" or "nigger" on any level is beyond taking a step back, it's to demean their work and their movement. On the other hand you have the hip hop generation, who politically have no movement. Not only that, but hip hop generally embraces "nigga" as every day slang, a term of endearment, and a way of saying they are the people of the struggle; the have nots, the forgotten, the voiceless. For hip hop, "nigger" is not even part of the conversation, because it has that little relevance in their daily lives. Yet, the word "nigga" seems to hold a rawness or rebelliousness that fits right in with the expressive nature of hip hop. Over the past year, it seems like every other week, said rapper is defending "nigga" and freedom of expression, while people like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are holding mock burials to rid the world of the word altogether. Ultimately, both sides may have a point.

Sesquicentenial. This is a word that we'll see in the news a lot in the coming years, it means 150. That's right, in 2015, black people in America will celebrate their sesquicentenial, 150 years free from slavery. When I think about all the progress that has been made in that time, and all the racism that sill exist, it really puts into perspective just how short amount of time has truly passed. We're basically talking about four generations of people. That's all! No wonder "nigga" is still a hot topic, it should be, but so should the real problem, slavery. Slavery is the untold secret of our country. It's barely discussed in our history books. And the little that is discussed is condensed into some Black History Month tribute. Whereas every major city in America has a holocaust museum, where mandatory class field trips take students to learn about the Jewish plight, the same can not be said for the African-American holocaust. Slavery is skimmed over in our country because it makes too many people uncomfortable. White people don't want to be reminded of their wicked ancestors. And black people, who have never really accepted the horrors of our past, want to distance themselves as far away from those painful memories as possible. Our only constant reminder slavery even happened today, is "nigger" and "nigga". And for that alone, I say thank God for the n-word.

"i'm just telling you, it's uncomfortable to me. i don't like it when black people say it to me, i really don't no more" - richard pryor

If the "n" word stings, hurts, or makes you uncomfortable, good! It should. Because slavery stung, hurt, and was beyond uncomfortable. And the racism that is alive today still stings, hurts, and is beyond uncomfortable as well. But guess what Al and Jesse, it goes far beyond the word "nigger". If that word was never said again in life, we'd still hear it in the gun blasts every time a racist cop shot an unarmed black man. We'd hear it in the slam of the gavel every time a falsely convicted black person was sent to prison. And we'd hear it if we deciphered the words when corporate America justifies their lack of minority employees by saying "there just aren't enough qualified black candidates". You see, "nigger" is the fever that proceeds the flu. In other words, it's simply a symptom of a greater problem, racism and ignorance. And just like the flu, each year racism and ignorance advances and comes back stronger. Although it may keep many of the same old symptoms, it does develop new ones. So "nigger" is simply the sypmtom of racism recognized and watched by the the Civil Rights generation. While "nigga" isn't necessarily viewed as a symptom of racism or even ignorance by hip hoppers. Instead they see things like unfair hiring practices, discriminatory hair and dress codes, and racial profiling by police as the symptoms to watch for. And many even believe "nigga" is a part of the cure. Some would argue, by saying the word, although you can't change its history, you can definitely take away the power it holds today. And uh, if you haven't guessed it, those people would definitely not be Rev. Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson.

Queensbridge rapper Nas will weigh in on the debate in December with his instantly controversial titled cd "Nigger".

So what does it all mean? It simply means, WE AIN'T THERE YET! We have not arrived black people. Racism is still real, and people died to end it. So yes, I'm as pissed off as Al or Jesse when I hear a 12 year old screaming out to his friend with a big ole loud NIGGAAAAAA! There are also times when I'm blazay blah about it when hanging out with the homies, "what up my nigga!" Some months I create a "nigga-free" zone and refuse to say the word, or play music with the word in it. Other months I'm saying it and playing it so much, I feel like Paul Mooney and can actually see it making my teeth whiter. But at least I'm happy to say this is a black debate. For white people the rules are and have been very clear for a long time. Say the word if you choose, but beware of the consequences. See KKKramer. All I know is, if we all knew our history and got more active to end racism, maybe the word would mean a little more to us. And if the world we're living in today was truly a better place, maybe the word would have no real significance in these days and times. But on both counts, WE AIN'T THERE YET. And since I'm bound to say "nigga" a few more times in my life, I got one thing to say to all you folks dropping a dime on me to the "nigga" police... stop snitching NIGGAS!!! One luv.

freestyle friday

like a doc before making incisions
a skilled hand and a vision
i pray, ether germs and aim with precision
write with my wisdom
my mission is to gain what i’m missing
strain when i train
it hurts
but i never complain
it seems sex is just division of legs
my intentions
to delve deep within and find different dimensions
beauty i hate, why
cause it creates suspicion
love’s ascension is stopped
and it ends in dissention
i try and relax
instead all i feel is the tension
in my mind it’s like
brown vs. the school system
so i
stay in my lane outta sight from the lames
sippin good
lighting long nag champas with flames
my knees stay callused from prayers
and meditating for change
inside i burn but my eyes never melt from the pain....

corporate america, watermelon, and me

It’s one thing to be black in America, where blacks are 13% of the population, and you actually see other black people on a regular basis. It’s an entirely different thing to be black in corporate America, where blacks make up less than 2% of all white-collar workers. In my case, that means being the ONLY black in my department for over six years. Although it sounds pretty awkward, you get focused, you do your job, and you adapt. But you never quite adapt to feeling like you’re the ambassador for the ENTIRE black race. More often than not, the pressure to put forth the best face for the race can lead you to frustration, confusion, and even and isolation,

“One ever feels his two-ness, an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two un-reconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.- W. E. B. Du Bois

What do you do? You’re at a department meeting in a boardroom with 30 of your white co-workers. Lunch is wheeled in. The two choices? Roast beef, or fried chicken? If I was white, I’d simply eat what I had a taste for. But as the only black, suddenly, this isn’t a matter of taste, it’s a social statement. Do you shun the chicken, for the roast beef, or do you risk confirming some kind of stereotype by getting your finger licking grub on with the fried chicken? Eight years ago, every time when I found myself in these types of situations, this little voice in my head would start whispering. It’d say stuff like, “certain shit you just don’t do around white people”. And every single time, I’d get as far away from the chicken, or watermelon, or collard greens as I possibly could. But it wasn’t just about food. When asked questions about hip hop, that voice would whisper, “ohhh, so you have to like hip hop cause you’re black”? So I’d play dumb, like I had no idea what they were talking about. And when people walked up to me assuming I voted democrat, that voice would whisper, “so a black man can’t be up on all the candidates, just the democratic ones huh”? And I’d have to drop some knowledge about all the independents in the race. See, eight years ago, I had it all wrong. I was so worried about what other people thought about me. I was allowing the possibility of their pre-conceived notions about blacks, make me insecure. Eight years later, I’m totally different.

Today, luckily I’m not the only black in my department, (finally we have two more) but I’d be comfortable if I were. Why? Because I’ve come to grips with the fact that in corporate America, I AM an ambassador for black America. However, that doesn’t mean I have to carry all of black America’s burden. All I can do is be real, and put forth the best me I can. And if I do that, I think I’ll be repping my race to the fullest. I love to engage in discussions about race, and to educate ignorant people when I can. Besides, I love hip hop, so pictures of folks from Kool Herc to the Gza plaster my walls. And if I feel like eating a piece of chicken or watermelon, or whatever around my co-workers, I just do. What really put it all into perspective for me is this brotha who works here. He’s a janitor. He comes through the office late at night, and empties the trashcans. Brotha man has a jheri curl, wears lots of gold, and talks with a twang. But at the end of the day, that’s my brotha. And not for my white co-workers or anyone else would I ever shun that man, or that part of my black experience. Every time I see him, he greets me brotherly, and I always make time to talk to him as well, no matter who’s around. See, a lot of times, in an effort to put forth a good face for white people, blacks become extremely insecure about who we are. And that ain’t cool. Because in the end, we have to be comfortable with what black is, before we can try to show others, what black is not.

jim crow television

“We have defeated Jim Crow, but now we have to deal with his son, James Crow Jr., esquire.” - Al Sharpton

Remember the images of a WHITE'S ONLY water fountain side by side one marked COLORED? Well, as awful and horrifying as that image was, at least both fountains were dispensing the same water. But what if the water coming from the COLORED fountain was slightly brownish, tasted funny, and left long lasting affects. Imagine what that would do to how we perceived ourselves and each other over time. Well, that's exactly what Viacom is serving up on MTV and BET. In this scenario, MTV is the equivalent of the WHITE'S ONLY fountain, and BET (Black Exploitation Television) is the COLORED fountain. And it only takes a quick flick back and forth between the two channels to notice how seperate and unequal they really are.

Intitially, when I heard Viacom acquired BET back in 2000, I thought mo'money should mean better, higher quality programming. Take a look at what Viacom COO, Mel Krazmin said at the time.

"This is a strategically perfect fit," he added. "We now have a major business targeting the African-American market, which is growing faster than the general population. African-American household income is growing faster, consumer spending is growing faster and the market consumes more media than the general market. Additionally, while ad spending in the general market is showing 6 to 7 percent growth, ad spending in the African-American segment is showing a growth of 15 percent."

Hey, it sounded good on paper right? Then came the infamous BET Uncut. An after hours adventure that felt like the red light district of cable television, graphically taking you to a place where misognyny, hip hop, and adult themes all came together. Although BET would condone the show by saying it aired late at night, the fact is, the images of our people being beamed to 62 million U.S. households was atroscious. It's one thing to make the decision to go to a strip club, it's another to have one beamed to to your home. (Who can forget Nelly swiping the crack of a dancer's ass with a credit card) Also, it makes me raise the question, "would Viacom air this show on MTV"? Think about that for a second. Exactly. I think we all know the answer to that one my friends. So what made them so comfortable airing it on BET? Maybe it was simply a case of, as NWA would say, "here's what they think about you."

You hear a lot of talk about how BET is MTV's sister station. For real, I can't tell. Especially if you look at some of the very successful MTV shows compared to the BET knock offs. lI remember expecting the presence of Viacom to bring up the production quality of the BET shows. Then College Hill debuted. I'm sorry folks but compared to The Real World, this show just looks extremely low budget. Same with the reality shows for Lil Kim, Keyshia Cole, and DMX. Even when BET gets black star power, they deliver shows that look bootleg. Anyone flipping back and forth between BET and MTV would never in a million years conclude these two stations were owned by the same company.

Let me not blame all of BET's problems on Viacom. A lot of it has to do with not living up to the name Black Entertainment Telivision. Once again, I must refer to the MTV model. MTV is simply Music Television. Over the years, MTV has defined itself as the main source for all things cool revolving around youth culture, with music being the glue. And more often than not, MTV has gone out of its way to also address issues affecting youth culture with serious programming about drug abuse, AIDS, gun control, etc. Now let's look at BET, which stands for Black Entertainment Television. The name is extremely important. It's not Black Teen Entertainment Television. It's not Black Hip Hop Entertainment Television. It's Black Entertainment Television. Therefore, it's demogrphic is huge, and should cater to the huge diverse group that is black America. Instead, the station's programming acts as if black people are this monolithic group that is fascinated by all things having to do with hip hop, videos, and celebrity. Once upon a time in what now seems like BET's "golden era", there were news programs. People like Ed Gordon and Tavis Smiley actually had talk shows. There were syndicated family shows. And athough we still wanted more from the station at the time, at least we felt like they were "trying" to live up to the name Black Entertainment Television. Today, that is hardly the case. If an alien were to come to Earth and base his thoughts of black people off of the programming he saw on BET...the thought of that alone saddens and sickens me. Yet, many non black people are doing just that, and the images they are seeing are simply reaffirming there predetermined stereotypes.

I'd like to see BET represent the best of who we are. I'd like to see BET secure the rights to our BEST tv shows and our BEST movies. I'd like to see BET put some effort into creating adult programming as well as family programming. I'd like to see BET develop a REAL newsroom, with up to the minute news covering our stories, the ones that don't make it on screen on the major networks. I'd like to see BET develop some talk shows. I'd like to see BET stop focusing on what the stars are doing, and focus more on showing young people the realities of black people working behind the scenes in music and television. I'd like to see BET improve the over all production quality of all of their shows, and diversify the music they showcase. I'd like BET to be my source for all things involving black culture. If the best engineer in the world is black, BET should let me know that. If St. Croix is the new black vacation destination, BET should let me know that. If there is going to be a march to bring attention to inferior sentencing of black teens, BET should let me know that as well. BET has proven over the years that its standards for us, are much lower than the standards other stations have for their viewers. The day of Jim Crow television is over, sorry BET and Viacom, but we DEMAND more than that. One luv.

getting old

(No, my mug doesn't look like this, but I am starting see those little silver gray hairs growing from my chin.)

At 34, I'm hardly ready to retire, grab a walker, and start pouring buttermilk over my cereal. But don't get it twisted, each day I wake up, I'm reminded that I'm definitely getting older.

The most immediate way you know you're getting older is your body. First off, the metabolism slows down. You find yourself being forced to make smarter choices about the foods you eat. Not only what, but when. Too many carbs after 9 o'clock will have your mid section on some "please don't pinch me" sh*t. Matter of fact, way too many of my friends are walking around with "dick-do's". You know, their stomachs stick out further than their dicks' do. Well, I ain't with that. Therefore a lot of the foods I used to eat, have been pretty much taken out of my diet altogether. Now I find myself playing the substitute game. Fish instead of fried chicken. Red wine instead of beer. Wheat thins instead of potato chips. The list goes on and on. Also, for me, working out used to be all about competition. If you saw me running four or five miles, or lifting weights, it was so I could have that edge when I stepped on the track for a race. If I was doing hundreds of sit ups, it was so I'd feel strong when playing basketball. Now working out is simply about being healthy and looking good. I don't know about you, but for me, that takes all the fun out of it. Oh and did I mention the aches and pains. All those years of running high hurdles in high school and college have caught up with me. My knees constantly hurt, and when they don't, it's a tight hamstring, or a back ache. And to think, your 30's are supposed to be the PRIME of your life.

Another sure way you know you're getting older is when your peers start to die from health related illnesses. I've had a high school friend die of asthma, a cousin die of a heart attack, and a work colleague die of cancer. Each one of these people were younger than 41 when they died, which scares the hell out of me. It's one thing when people die from unforseen accidents, but when people your age start to die from health problems, you know you're not a kid anymore. It forces you to maximize the moment, and question your rituals. My philosophy is, if I want to be here, I have to act like it. So yes, I go see my doctor every six months or so, no excuses. I also try not to live an exteme lifestyle. I don't smoke. I drink, but I never binge drink like I did in my twenties. And I refuse to carry around uneccesary pounds. High blood pressure and diabetes are real killers than can sneak up on any of us. So it's time we all start watching our backs before we get got.

Here's another thing. I'm beginning to notice something that I truly hate to admit. Me and the people around me are becoming conservative. Damn, it even hurts to type that. When I say conservative, I definitely ain't talking about wilding out and joining the Republican Party, or nothing remotely close. But on a Friday or Saturday nights, I no longer feel the NEED to go out. Matter of fact, I tend to enjoy staying in more. It used to be all about the party or the club. Now it's all about ON DEMAND movies, a book, thinking, writing, or snuggle time with that special someone. All that stuff we used to see on tv that we thought was corny, you know, people sitting around the house sipping wine talking with jazz playing in the background... Well, that has become my reality. Not to say I don't enjoy live music or checking out a hip hop set with the best of them. But for the most part, I'm a lot more mellow. And I spend a lot more time chilling than I ever have before. I still get riled up by things in the news, but the way I handle it is different. I sit back and critically think about issues BEFORE I react to them emotionally. My temperment isn't as fiery, and instead of cursing out managers when I get bad service places, I write well written letters, and threaten boycotts. Believe it or not, it's so much more effective than all that energy I used to waste. At family events I find myself yelling at the kids, "slow your ass down in the house, this ain't no gym!" Now tell me that doesn't sound like an old person. Oh yeah, this is a sure give away to let you know you're getting old. Ever been sitting around and found these words coming out of your mouth, "it was different when I was a kid". Man, I hear my friends say this kind of stuff all the time when we talk about hip hop and or the youngsters. See, I'm not alone, YOU'RE getting old too!!!!

So what does it all really mean? Well, as we get older, so do our parents. This means we not only have to deal with our mortality, but their's as well. Many of us have already seen our parents go before us. Those of us like myself, who are blessed enough to still have their folks, will have to deal with the slow demise of our parents health over the next twenty or so years. It's part of life, it happens. Hopefully we've taken the best from them, and the elders who came before them, so we'll have plenty of amunition to feed the younger generation with. Ultimately, there's really nothing wrong with getting older. Well, as long as we continue to get wiser as well. One luv.

i did

"i did"
by hardCore

i was married in a desert once
a hot sun and illusions of happiness in my eyes
i wiped anticipation from my brow and inhaled the scene
no scent of doubt in the wind
no misguided heartbeats
no twist in my neck begging me to turn back
you can’t tell me i wasn’t ready
steady and stern
freshly shaved and bowtied
my best man as my twin
closest family as witnesses
a preacher i didn’t know and a violinist
my proudest moment was being cemented in time
right before me
sculpted masterfully by my expectations
a matron of honor
a long pause
the momentum of people standing
and her
yes her
life promises
a kiss
a reception
a toast
hugs
so many hugs
and happiness
and speed
so much speed
and new family
and faces and names i couldn’t quite remember
i became lost in the newness
more speed
first Christmas
zoom
first new years
things beginning to blur
birthdays
anniversary
slow down
wait
another christmas
hold on
another new years
make it stop….

and then
it did
so abruptly
just over a year in
tires came screeching down our hallways
into the deepest corridors of our confusion
index fingers started pointing
tongues became muted
and when they weren’t
they lashed out like leather
at the tips of whips on flesh
the next day we’d walk around
with our backs still stinging
so many i’m sorry’s and i love you’s
all while spending less time together
too much time making money
not enough time making love……..last
eating in different rooms
seeking out advice from different sources
falling asleep with an ocean between us
deep hard lines becoming fixated between our eyes
each night we went to sleep unhappy
no smiles
no understanding
the willingness to work harder being drained
slowly from our veins
enfant problems screaming at the crack of dawn
begging to be attended to
both of us just lying there
neither of us rolling over
screams getting louder
nobody making the first move
she waiting on me
me waiting on her
to make it stop, but it never did
two stems from one flower growing
in different directions
blooming, but not together
becoming more happy apart
healing and still growing
learning to love ourselves
the way we couldn’t each other
sometimes saving a friendship
means sacrificing a ring
a last name
a life together
false images of happiness
and pain

this is not the story of i do
i didn’t
or what i would if i could do it all again
this is simply the story of loving someone
as hard as i could
even when it didn’t work
and being able to walk away knowing

i did

©2007 3rd Eye Open Publishing

he said, she said

he said, she said (a failure to communicate)
by hardCore

she said, "you're deep"
referring to the sound of my voice
rather than the words they held

i said, "what a dress"
referring to how sexy it looked stretched out across my floor
opposed to spaghetti strapped over her shoulders

she whispered, "i love this"
referring to what she hoped "this" would become

i mumbled, "me too"
referring to what i thought "this" was

we both moaned, "yes!"

she, thinking of him
me, thinking of the previous her

the next morning, we both waved "goodbye"

she meant, for now
i meant, forever

letter writing

The following black face image appeared in an editorial piece for i-D Magzine featuring American Apparel clothing,

Being that advertising is my day job, I'm extremely sensitive to imagery from advertisers and media outlets. So when I saw the above picture for the first time, it struck me as odd and in poor taste. As I continued to examine the concept and wording of the piece, I began to find it offensive and inflamatory. At that point I made it my personal mission to do something. What did I do? Friday I wrote a letter. I wrote a letter to American Apparel to let them know I wasn't happy with the imagery I saw in i-D Magazine. I also emailed the above image to my entire email list which includes over 200 people. I encouraged them to write letters as well, and many did. I also contacted as many woman and civil rights organizations as possible. And just like that, a campaign was born.

This past Friday I received a letter from American Apparel letting me know they had nothing to do with the creative direction of the above photoshoot. Here is a small piece of what that letter said.

The offensive image that you referenced is not an American Apparel ad, nor did American Apparel have anything to do with the creative direction. Since we have no creative input on any fashion editorials produced, I would express your understandable concerns with this recent fashion editorial to i-D magazine. - them

I replied back with the following email.

We now understand this was not an ad created by your company.

However, the fact remains, your products are a part of that racist image. Therefore, to not denounce i-D magazine's immoral use of your product is to stand by it.

Unless and until American Apparel has gone on record to distance themselves from I-D magazine's creative interpretation, we will continue to push forward with our awareness campaign to let people of color know of the types of racist images still being generated, and the names of the companies that condone this type of imagery. - me

Well, American Apparel wanted it to be known that they hire diverse people and the above image is in no way representative of their business ethics or hiring practices. In fact, they called the business office of 3rd Eye Open to speak about it. They were contrite, and let it be known they would be publicly distancing themselves from this editorial piece. We'll now be focusing our attention on i-D Magazine and their irreverent level of sensitivity.

Now, I know some of you are like, come on, this is much to do about nothing. Well, I don't see it that way. I believe that true activism is about doing more than TOLERATING things we don't like. It's about actively pursuing an end. Whether that is an apology, education, a firing, removal of images, or simply to drawing attention to an issue. And nothing communicates our angers and frustrations better than letter writing. I am not a trouble maker. I am a citizen of the U.S. willing to yell, kick, and scream for issues close to my heart. Over the years, I've written tons of letters to different organzations, politicians, executives, and newpaper writers. Through this dialogue we can force a change, see Imus. If more of us wrote letters and protested, our current president wouldn't be in office. But that's another issue altogether. The world is full of wrongs. And one of the best ways to right those wrongs, is by WRITING. So why aren't you? Power to the people, one luv.

YOU

hey YOU.

YOU don't smile enough. or even think to.

YOU have eyes, that hold tears filled with unaswered questions, memories and frustrations, that subside when YOU cry, but always come back to eventually bother YOU.

YOU don't believe enough. in yourself. in others. or your ability to simply believe.

YOU only feel misunderstood, because YOU misunderstand the importance of communication.

don't blame other people for not being YOU, for not thinking as YOU would, or acting as YOU would.

YOU are loved.

YOU are as different, as you are alike, all the rest of us. sometimes that comforts you, other times it just makes you feel overlooked, ordinary, and alone.

YOU think i don't know YOU. the truth is, everyone who has ever known YOU, knows YOU well enough to know how special YOU are, even when they don't act like it.

there is someone YOU love, that you have been preparing yourself to lose. and still, when YOU finally lose them, YOU won't be prepared.

the world spins to your rhythm, YOU just don't know it.

God watches YOU. even when YOU stop looking to God.

no one will ever take a chance on YOU, until YOU take a chance on somebody.

it's okay to really love who YOU are, YOU deserve that.

the YOU you were yesterday, is not the YOU you are today. YOU are better.

YOU are smarter than you'll ever know.

stronger than you'll ever know.

more magnificent than you'll ever know.

in fact, YOU remind me of someone very special.

ME.

bruce lee says...

Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them.

A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at.

Simplicity is the key to brilliance.

If you think a thing is impossible, you'll make it impossible.

Truth has no path. Truth is living and, therefore, changing.

A wise man can learn more from a foolish question than a fool can learn from a wise answer.

If you love life, don't waste time, for time is what life is made up of.

As you think, so shall you become.

I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.

It's not the daily increase but daily decrease. Hack away at the unessential.

Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.

The highest technique is to have no technique.

To see a thing uncoloured by one's own personal preferences and desires is to see it in its own pristine simplicity.

The idea is that flowing water never goes stale, so just keep on flowing

The key to immortality is first living a life worth remembering.

bootie lies: the untruth about sex

"Dude, you know I hit that right."

"Ole girl? For real?"

"Oh hell yeah, killed that sh*t all night long. She a freak too..... Oh yeah, don't tell nobody."

Just like that, a bootie lie is born. We all know what a bootie lie is. I never heard more booties lies in my life than in the high school locker room. Something about testosterone concentrated in one place tends to make sex the main subject of any and every conversation. And anywhere there are men talking about sex, there are men lying about sex. No, men aren't the only ones that tell bootie lies, but men do it with such prowess that it's like we own the genre. I've seen guys tell bootie lies to seem more macho and to hide their insecurities, while others just do it to fit in and go along for the ride. What I always found amusing is, for the most part, you could always see a bootie lie a mile away.

Something about a bootie lie is always exaggerated. It's never just, "yo, I hit that". It always has elements that resemble a creative writing exercise. As if the teller of the lie is under the belief that, the more unbelievable the story is, the more they'll be forced to believe me. Instead it always has the opposite affect . Although some bootie lies will go down as some of the funniest things I've ever heard, for the most part, I look down on guys who lie about sex. I just think it's a pretty weak thing to do. I mean, anyone willing to sacrifice another person to make themself look good doesn't have much heart or integrity in my opinion. But a funny thing happens when you serve up a young man a strong dose of peer pressure. Chances are, no matter how much of an individual he is, he just may fall prone to wanting to "fit in". I should know, because once upon a time, I too told a bootie lie.

The year was 1992, second semester of my freshman year in college. I was hanging around some of the older guys and they were grilling us freshman about what girls we had slept with. Slowly they started making their way around the room, from one guy to the next asking him the same question, "who you been with". Didn't take much of a brain to figure out my turn under the microscope was coming up pretty soon. Instead of telling the truth, "I got with this senior, and that's it", I panicked. They viewed me as a leader to a lot of those dudes, different, cooler, more mature. And I did not want to disappoint. So what did I do? I told a booty lie. Not only did I mention the girl's name who I got with, I also offered up a girl who had been liking me a lot, Stacy. I think I felt like, one chic for the semester wasn't good enough for a playa-playa like myself, so I threw my homegirl under the bus. Stacy was a girl who I was cool with. We got a long great as friends, then she decided she liked me. We tried that for a minute, nothing came of it, and we went back to being homies. Why her name came out of my mouth of all people, I'll never know. But it did. And the minute those guys started going "ewwwwwww, this boy is a pimp", I knew I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

Fast forward to the LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL. Picture me in the gym playing basketball. Picture Stacy walking towards the court with three or four angry looking girls with her. I'm hooping, and Stacy yells out, "I need to talk to you". I immediately knew what time it was, but I stayed cool. "Alright, when the game is over", and I kept hooping. Soon as the game was over. I stepped to Stacy with confidence thinking, "f*ck it, just tell the truth." But somehow, the truth did not come out. She asked me had I told people I slept with her. I said "no." She said, "you sure?" I said "yes", and that was that. She then proceeded to hunt down each and every guy who was there to ask what if anything I had said about her. Till this day, I don't know if they lied for me, or told the truth. Really doesn't matter. Stacy and I never spoke again. I've actually only seen her one time since that day, about three years later. I was at a club, and before I got a chance to go up to her and apologize, she rolled her eyes and walked the other way. Dayum that hurt. Believe it or not, that bootie lie has been eating at me for 16 years. I try to live my life in a way that I don't have people out there who hate me for no reason. And it hurts me deeply to know, there is a girl who hates me for a very good reason, because I lied on her. Well, a lot of time has passed, and I think it's unhealthy for me to keep carrying the weight of that mistake with me. So as of today, I officially forgive myself for that bootie lie.

I was eighteen when I told that lie, and I did what eighteen year old boys do, I lied about sex. That doesn't make it right, but it also doesn't make it the end of the world. It's time for me to move on. As for Stacy, if you're out there reading this, or if we somehow cross paths in the future, I just want to let you know from the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry for slandering your good name and throwing away our friendship over a bootie lie. I just hope enough time has passed that you finally accept my apology. One luv.

a moment of silence

1919 - 2007

the american anti-nigga

"“The Negro is America's metaphor." - Richard Wright

I've never been one to buy into the whole black people vs. niggas debate, mainly because I refuse to embrace the Western mentality that deems certain people acceptable, and others unacceptable. It's always been my belief that, we're either all black people, or all niggas. And because I know I'm not a nigga, I have to assert that all of those who belong to my racial class must be black people. And the same way certain black people have become educated and have attained a certain amount of economic stability, with the right opportunity, and with hard work, other black people can achieve that same lifestyle. That said, there are many who disagree. Many black people will tell you, "what's truly f*cking up black America are niggas". Now here's where it gets tricky. When white people call us "nigger", the words associated with the term are "lazy, black, dumb, poor"....nigger! Yet, when black people call other black people "nigga", the words associated with the term are, "lazy, ghetto, dumb, trifling, dangerous".....nigga! Hmmm, not so different huh? Well, in 2007, not only are black people still trying to prove they aren't "niggers" to white people, more and more, they are trying to prove they aren't "niggas" to other black people, which has created a brand new "nigga". It's created what I like to call, the American anti-nigga.

I know you're wondering, what exactly is the American anti-nigga. Well, it's simple. An anti-nigga is a black person who has gone out of their way to distinguish themselves from those people America deems as "niggers" or "niggas". The distinctions can be seen through education, dress, economics, social status, zip code, etc. I know you may be thinking, "what black person doesn't do that on some level." And you're right. Just by being the kind of people we want to be, we create distinctions between ourselves, and the kind of people we don't want to be. However, with anti-niggas, there's more to it. Anti-niggas distinguish themselves not only by who they embrace, but who they don't. For instance, whereas people we tend to call "wannabes" or "oreos" embrace whiteness, anti-niggas actually embrace blackness. They just shun what they consider niggas and nigga-isms. Take hip hop for example. An anti-nigga may be a true hip hop head, but the portion of the culture they embrace will be a very specific portion they deem "acceptable". See, anti-niggas have an elevated sense of what their brand of blackness is. And in their eyes, that brand of blackness is specific to a small group of black people, and is in no way inclusive to black people they view as niggas.

As a kid, I grew up across the street from an anti-nigga. She was actually really nice to me, which makes perfect sense now. She was nice to my family and I because (drumroll).....she didn't consider us "niggas". So she'd bake us cookies. She'd get our mail when we were out of town. And sometimes when my parents were working, we'd even stay over her house for a few hours. All in all, she was a great neighbor. But out of all that kindness, what I remember most about her is, she HATED niggas. This lady used to drive like a half an hour to this white supermarket when there were literally two brand new supermarkets within blocks of our house. According to her, "too many niggas be up there", which happens to be a very anti-nigga thing to say. I also remember how she used to favor me over some of my friends on the block. We'd all be out there playing in front of the house, and she'd call me over. "Hey sweetie, tell them little niggas to quit throwing that ball in front of my house." Out of everybody who lived on our block, I think she only found five families "acceptable". Everyone else were "them niggas". Mind you, as a kid, I grew up around the word "nigga", so that part was nothing new. Heard it all the time. But even as a child, I could always tell the difference in the connotation of the word, some people meaning "us niggas", and other people meaning "them niggas". "Them niggas" always stung. It felt like self-racism, or self hate on a whole other level. And that terminology was also a dead give away for an anti-nigga. But over the years, I've also noticed the words have changed. Instead of "them niggas", anti-niggas publicly say things like, "ghetto" or "your people". The words have changed, but the elitist tone in their voices remains the same.

"I love niggas, I love niggas, I love niggas, because niggas are me" - Umar Bin Hassan

To be honest, I actually know a lot of anti-niggas. Some feel their rebellious political stance makes them the best of black folk. I call these people revolutionary anti-niggas. Others hang their elitism on money or education. I call these people bougie anti-niggas. Some think the side of town they were born on makes them better, I call them territorial anti-niggas. While many just believe they are fundmentally better than other black people for no other reason than, they just are. No matter what you call them, what connects them is their belief that certain black people are niggas, and for whatever reason, they aren't. That's a belief I can't help but to consider fundamentally wrong. Yes, there are problems with black people. A lot of problems. But they are OUR problems. All of ours. The same way we all can claim the positive things black people do, we ALL must accept and claim the negative things black people do. And instead of drawing a line in the sand that says, these people who are uneducated, ignorant, poor, who committ crimes, are niggas-- we must say, these people represent the potential to be as great as the greatest black person. So let's help them become that instead of writing them off! To all you anti-niggas out there, I have a better name for you. Try, anti-black. Anti-love. Anti-humanity. No matter how great you think you are, the same ignorance you use to label your own people as niggas, will undoubltedly be used against you by some other race, to label you the EXACT SAME THING! One luv.