Have you ever been eating with somebody & then they taste something disgusting and immediately offer it to you to share in the experience? “YUK! Here, taste this!” I have never understood that exchange.

I also have never understood why so many folks claim to despise negative stereotypical images fed to us, but continue to support them.

I believe Melvin Van Peebles was the one that once said Hollywood has an Achilles wallet: if it makes money no matter what it is they will make it. So it could be said that Hollywood and televison are artistically/politically/morally neutral – they couldn’t care less if it’s a movie about Madea or Mumia as long as it makes money. Examples range from corporate support and wide distribution of Michael Moore’s antiestablishment documentaries, to the Kwanzaa cups at McDonald’s. It could be further said that the responsibility lies with the audience then, to make quality decisions that in turn effect the quality and content of the material. But it seems to me that every time there is an award show on BET or a racist misogynistic reality show or a poorly written melodramatic farce celebrating contemporary coonery, folks FLOCK to it in unprecedented numbers.

Some claim intellectual curiousity, some say they can’t comment unless they see it, some just love it as a guilty pleasure – all of which are fine. My issue comes with the fact that if you put money into supporting these projects then they will continue to make them – even bigger and more frequently. My greater issue comes with the fact that we collectively as audience members don’t find and support the alternatives with the same amount of enthusiasm. We don’t search out and support and vote with our dollars for the films, shows, movies and art that enhance and cleberate our mythology.

Boycotting beef for its unhealthy practices has forced supermakets to carry healthier grades of meat; it is because of people’s knowledge of pesticides and their action against buying those things that we have the word organic plastered on everything. Our money is our vote. Enough people did not buy the crappy stuff and voted with their dollars for the more expensive, more difficult to find, healthier alternatives – and the market changed to adapt for that. Healthier options are now more accessible, less expensive, and companies are falling all over themselves to offer them.

The current talk of the town is the new Tyler Perry adaptation of Ntozake Shange’s “For Colored Girls…” There is a lot of dissenting opinion over whether he should have been the one to handle such sensitive and culturally important material, and critics are already panning the result. But even among those who claim to not like the idea are many who are willing to contribute toward the success of its opening night. I can’t count how many folk – most of whom could never stand a Tyler Perry flick – are organizing viewing parties and screening trips.

To sum up the questions this calls to mind for me:

Why do we support things that we proclaim not to like? Do we just like to hate? Are we a hater nation? A group folks who rather than taking the time to find the things that serve our soul, would rather eat what’s offered to us no matter how bad because the temporary moment of collective hate gives us a sense of unity, inclusion and power?

I use the term ‘hate’ with some trepidation b/c i feel like the term has its own issues. Too often we claim ‘hate’ for honest, constructive criticism — or hold back criticism for fear of being labeled a hater. But if we stigmatize all criticism as hate, what does that do to our ability to hold our cultural output to a higher standard? Are we doomed instead to accept without feedback whatever drivel is produced in our name?

Do we not realize that these films, songs, and images travel around the world, and are projected forward in time? They serve as our representation in places we may never go personally.

I feel like we are commenting on how sad the fire burning down our house is instead of trying to put the flames out.

We have the advantage of coming from a technological time of incredible diversity. Between TV, movies, cable, and the internet we have more choice in entertainment than previous generations could have imagined. Today’s adults also have the advantage of spanning eras – we may look at violent video games in a different way, for example, because we were rasied on pin ball machines and Pac Man. What we fail to realize is that right now is the oldschool for someone else. What kind of impact are we having on the future if we dont make diversity available to the future tastemakers of society?

The history of race in hollywood is far beyond the scope of what i want to talk about here, but i’ll just say that race has been wound up in the growth of the genre since its invention. Film has not made a growth spurt or technological innovation without a significant statement on its perception of people of color.

1st feature length movie: the birth of a nation
first ‘talkie’: the jazz singer
first color film: gone with the wind
one of the first films shot digitally: starwars phantom menace (need i remind you of jar jar binks, the ridiculous ‘asian’ stereotype characters which opened the movie, or the ‘jewish’ mosquito character?)
honorable mention as a large advance in special effects: king kong (a movie i feel like they remake every 5 minutes)

but no longer can we completely point the finger at a Hollywood system that won’t let us in, if we are the ones behind the camera and more importantly the ones supporting the exact type of product we wish to change. one of the most important parts of any performance is the audience. if we are an audience that does not seek out and celebrate the best, we can’t expect the best.

I will not belittle Tyler Perry as i feel he is NOT the problem. The problem as I see it is diversity/choice. The problem is distribution and access. The problem is that there never seem to be any more than 4 actors of color in theatres at any one time – usually in a comedy and usually not the lead. The problem is that despite the technology available to us, we do not have as much choice and variety as we may think. The problem is, i have a new favorite film I’m going to recommend at the end of this piece, and could only find one possible place for you to see it.

Name 2 asian american leads in a film this year or in the past 5 that wasnt a comedy
Name 1 lead actress of african decnst in a dramatic film in the past ten
Name a “Quirky” indie film that stars an majority Latino cast
Name a film with a Middle Eastern character who is not the villain.
Name a film with a gay lead character where their sexuality was not the central issue of the story.
Name a special effects movie or science fiction movie with major cast members of color.
Name a movie where the lead black male had power that he doesn’t give away to a white character.

I don’t claim to have the answers. I’m trying my best, with my humble store and film company but i’m only one person with one vote and one voice. We all have to work at this if we want change. Entertainment has never been JUST entertainment for us. Throughout our history, entertainment has been a tool/instrument of revolution, and a barometer of change. Don’t negate the power of social media and the internet as one of these tools. Our ancestors in this country did a lot more with a lot less.

Seek the alternative. Find it, support it, spread the word about it. I just watched a Brazilian film from 2009 called Besouro – about a legendary capoiera player in 1920s Bahia, Brazil. I cannot express what a life-changing film this was for me, but i intend to try in a future post. In the meantime, here is the link the the trailer. You can purchase the DVD on amazon.com – PLEASE do so, then hold a screening party.

Support good film.

——————-

(Overheard on the 6:40 To Croton Harmon)

“She been at my house for a week my nigga…”

“A week?”

“Yeah, she been there since I had the cable cut off. I’m about to turn that shit back on though. Tired of that bitch being in my house…”

(5 minutes later…)

“Told you, my nigga, ignore that shit. Act like that phone ain’t even ring. When she say, ‘Why you ain’t call me?’ just tell her ‘I’m callin’ you now, right?’ And if she keep up with it, or say some shit you can’t come back from, hang up. Her insecurity will be eatin’ at her my nigga.”

(3 minutes later…)

“…yeah, I’ll throw you some bread to get ya nails done, but you need to be hiding them toes. Shits is mad long like fingers. She can pick shit up with them, for real my nigga. I told her, you don’t need them done. You need to cover them shits up.”

(3 minutes after that…)

“I go to _______ house yo. She got her own crib. Whenever I need to get off the streets, I chill there.”

“She work?”

“Fuck no she don’t work. Her kids is dumb, kna mean, so she get a FAT check. Her fridge always stay stocked my nigga.”

Now before I go on with this, I need to let you guys know that I’ve had a pretty bad fucking day at this point. Had I not had a pretty bad fucking day, I may have found some of this never ending spew of misogyny sorta funny. Hysterical actually. Like…

Who ARE these worthless women that these dudes are talking to? And who are these dudes?
Are they Don Draper or some shit?

So I peeked over.

Wow.

Du-rag. Long dingy tee shirt. Plaid shorts from ten years ago. Dirty sneakers. Scruffy. Need a shower and a shave bad and yet…I had the feeling that he was telling the truth.

Those women really do let him treat them that way.

*Phone ring*

The other one checked his phone and winced a little before answering.

(Sweet as pie…) “Whats up Ma? I ain’t heard from you in a minute. What’s good with you?…. Nothing. On the Metro-North. What you been doing with your fine self? ….. oh word? … nah, I’m sayin’, I called you a few times…. you ain’t answer. Must be something wrong with the phone…you on AT&T?”

….WE INTERRUPT THIS EARHUSTLE FOR A TEST FROM THE EMERGENCY “THAT NEGRO IS SO FULL OF SHIT” BROADCAST SYSTEM. THIS IS ONLY A TEST…

I didn’t even realize I was glaring at dude like a kid who’d rolled in the dirt in his Easter suit. He realized it though.
Meant to tell him that look wasn’t for him…he just reminded me of a big ol’ attitude that I hadn’t quite gotten over about this one time… “AT&T”’s service was SO BAD that, apparently…you can totally miss ten calls.

Yeah. Ten. (heavy sigh)

Anyway…

(Two days earlier…)

“…So I told him, you wanna be fat, then you’re going to date fat gay guys. If you want the hot, attractive gay guys, you have to be hot and attractive. Get your lazy ass to the gym.”

I already knew this. It’s an accepted fact amongst gay men. I mean, the other night, I was in a room full of hot gay men, all of which who were either 40 or close to it. They all looked 31… one of them could probably pass for a hard 29.

“So why don’t straight men look like this?” I asked. “Is it just because women let them get away with that getting sloppy shit?”

“Unfortunately, it’s always been skewed towards security for women. Finances. He makes more, he dictates what’s comfortable to him. He’s the husband you’re afraid will walk out and leave you with the kids. There are plenty of women out there who’ll take him if you don’t want him. The playing field is different. And if he wants to sit around and become sloppy and lazy, he will do that. That’s not the case with gay men. We’re both men. We both make money. We’re both independent. If you leave, there’s a whole club full of younger, cuter, hotter. But to keep yourself competitive, you need to keep yourself up. Most men are assholes that way. Like attracts like.”

(Anyway…back Assholes #1 & #2. When we last left off, Asshole #2 was talking to some chick and …)

“You know what… I know you ain’t just call me to talk all this shit? I’mma hit you back.
Nah…I’mma hit you back.” He looked at plaid shorts.

“That’s how you handle these bitches, my nigga.” he said, as if this was the gospel.

Now, I could handle this two ways. 1. We, as women, are fucked if this is the norm or even the subconscious of the male mind or 2. These guys are exclusive assholes and this behavior only applies to them.

Right. Well…

I’m a big believer in the law of attraction, and that particular day, I’d been attracting all sorts of nasty, vile people to me, basically because I was in a nasty, vile mood and…well… misery loves company. So it didn’t really surprise me that I was sitting next to these assholes.
What surprised me was, the first thing I thought about was “those poor girls”.

Then, I thought about it some more. Wait a minute. In order to attract THIS type of dude… you can’t be the nicest person on Earth. I mean, if the law is true, these chicks were probably pretty grimy too.

And if that law is right, then gay men stay hot, strictly because they’re giving off that swagger. That “hot gay dude swagger” and more flock to the circle.

Like being a popular crowd of kids, (who are secretly insecure but hide all that shit with clothes and self importance), who is gonna flock together? More of the same.

Now if this is all true, this got me to thinking… exactly WHAT the hell am I attracting?

Exactly what I asked for…OR… was I attracting what I WAS?

The Law Of Attraction works like this. Even if you don’t want something…if you ask for it, you got it coming to you.

So…if you say “I don’t want attention from unavailable dudes.” Your phone will ring off the hook with married guys. (Trust me on this.)

Or if you say, “I don’t want to seem like a pain in the ass…” You get the point.

So if on that particular day… hell… in the past ten years, I’d been attracting assholes with swagger…did I actually ASK for them?

And the answer was… yes. I completely fucking asked for them.

I’d say things like, “He’s a great guy, but I’d walk all over him. He needs to be a little bit of an asshole. I NEED A MAN WHO WILL FIGHT BACK AND KEEP ME ON MY TOES..”

Oh I got that all right. Over and over and… even when I took a break from dudes, once I returned to dating.. again with the Asshole Swagger. I couldn’t shake it.

I mean, to the point where they actually SAY they’re Assholes. I mean, OUTLOUD.
And I thought that was… cute?

Then I began to have that Kaiser Soze moment from “The Usual Suspects”.

I started hearing the voices of dudes I’d dated floating in my head…

“I’m an asshole…I’ll fully admit that.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time somebody called me an asshole…”

“Women tend to think I’m an asshole…”

“I’m a nice guy with a little bit of asshole…”

Wholly. Fucking. Shit.

This blew me away to the point of me having to leave my apartment before I drove myself crazy…so; I put on some sneakers and ran it out.

Ran to my favorite spot, sat on my favorite bench, got really quiet and did what my Mother taught me to do.

“Snuffy, if you don’t like something…change it. Stop complaining about it. Period. Point blank. End of conversation.”

So I stayed there until I changed the frequency. In a form of a prayer…something like this…

“So, the assholes were fun, but I’m done with that now. I’d like something in a size… fun and respectful. Inclusive, where we share the same worlds, have fun together and I’m not always “on my toes”. I’m tired of being “on my toes”. I want to relax. Keep the assholes away please. They were fun in my 20’s (were they really?) But I’d like a good dude now. I won’t walk all over him, because I’d respect him too much for that, which means, I am pledging not to be an asshole myself. Thanks.”

Figure it out asshole.

Sat there till it took hold, till I allowed this in and made it a belief (like I did the “asshole swagger” thing), and then came home.

First things first, I thanked my FB friends for telling me not to give up, (even if they had no idea what I was talking about)… then took notice of something… odd.

Two of the assholes quoted above LEFT FACEBOOK. Or at least defriended me.
I mean, gone. Poof. They were there yesterday. Today? Not so much.

Five plutonic “good dudes” contacted me to make sure I was good. Not in a “lets go out on this date..” vibe, but genuinely good dudes . Whose wives I know or who are old friends or … whatever. The point is…GOOD DUDES just started…showing up.

And just like that… everything changed.

……………………………………………………

“We can go eat at my house my nigga. She still there, I’ll tell her to cook before she break out.”

“Nah. I’m going to roll this blunt and then bounce my dude. I gotta go check on this chick yo. She salty.”

“Man …I told you. You too soft. Fuck these bitches.”

“Nah…this one’s good. I’mma get up with you tomorrow…”

And with that, he gave his boy a pound, looked at me and exited at Marble Hill.

Wow. There’s hope.

(Sixty seconds later…)

“What’s up Ma…”

“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE IN HELL.”

..and I promptly exited at Spuyten Duyvil.

————
Nyree Emory is co-host of talk radio show Chocolate Cake Radio – where actual black women talk about sex, love, relationships, and other vital concerns. don’t believe the hype! listen to the real cake. http://www.facebook.com/choccakeradio

They say that it takes about 7 years 4 u 2 recycle all the cells in your body. This took place abt 2 Pierre’s ago.

Chakaras & I went to art school together. We had several small adventures during the time we knew each other… our last big one was a road trip to the Million Man March in October 1995.

I was inspired to get this photo essay/album scanned and uploaded by his untimely passing last week. It’s dedicated to him, his memory, and all of those whose lives he touched.

You always hear the cliche about the journey and the destination. We’re all destined to end up in the same place, but i am thankful that our journeys crossed paths at some point. I am better because of it. Thank you, Chakaras. rest in peace.

Our Last Big Adventure

Kenyan filmmaker Wanuri Kahiu takes the Afrofuturism genre one step further with her short SciFi film “Pumzi.” The dystopic flick is set in an enclosed, underground future society, “35 years after water wars have torn the world apart,” and chronicles the efforts of one young woman to bring life back to the surface of the planet.

Unique opportunity to see this groundbreaking, award-winning film this sunday in Brooklyn, NY — at a free screening hosted by mtkalla keaton sunday evening, april 18th. details below.

“Pumzi” Brooklyn Screening @ Le Grand Dakar (Grand ave and Clifton Pl)

Sunday April 18th @ 8pm.
Please RVSP via text (917 771 2747)

Click below to see the trailer. Wow.

Duke professor Mark Anthony Neal and Grammy winning producer 9th Wonder (pictured left) are using SunMoonChild – amazing song by imani uzuri, amazing video by Pierre Bennu – as part of the midterm exam for their course, ’sampling soul.’ The course is about black cultural production and the tradition of borrowing/remixing/sampling and how it all relates to today’s legal issues of intellectual property rights and copyright law. Since YouTube just removed SunMoonChild after three years this issue cuts particularly close for us.

He’s made the midterm public on his blog to encourage a wider dialogue and wider exposure to the ideas. Stop by and give it a read, comment if you can! )

–jb.

As a DJ, an artist, a sometime teacher, and the son of an academic, I will never get tired of marveling at the intersection of HipHop and academia. It’s an honor to have my work thought of as contributing to this discussion.

–pb

Jean-Michel Basquiat : The Radiant Child

’till then love what you do.

- Dear you, yeah you complaining about how movies suck, music sucks? make your own. Yeah make it! it used to be hard but if you’re reading this on the internet chances are you have the tools. and clearly you have a creative mind cause you complain with such eloquence. Clearly you have a flair for fiction when you romanticize the past as if Hollywood & the music industry just started making crap in the late 90’s. Trust me the crap that exists now stands on the shoulders of a great legacy left by the crap b4 it. technology has just made it quicker and easier to make so there is a lot more of it. so get up and add YOUR crap to the mix, I dare you.

- Dear lame un imaginative DJ I love MJ and I don’t pretend to know what he thought but I would imagine that he would have wanted us to play more than just his music at a tribute to him.

- Note to self don’t bite your nails before scratching sensitive parts of your anatomy

- Dear supermarket why am I checking myself out?! WTF I don’t work here. How do you call yourself a supermarket when I’m checking myself out bagging and weighing  my own vegetables? Didn’t some one used to work here? and instead of hiring a person you now make me do it myself for free? I miss the line at the supermarket. Where you get to read the stuff you would never buy and eat the grapes and candy only to ask if they could just ring up the wrapper. Then there were those once in a life time i’ll probably never talk to you again friendly over polite conversations that you got into with strangers. I miss those and some how automated food checkout thingy it’s all your fault. I’m heading to the farmers market , they might not have a ceiling but they sell real food and have cool people.

- Note to self A notarized letter of permission signed by a handicapped person pinned to the windshield of your car does not give you permission to park in the handicapped spaces. ever.

- Dear PETA you can’t tell me that killing a mosquito on the back of your leg in mid suck isn’t satisfying

- Dear CNN Did you know that the demographic with the highest increase in HIV consistently for the past several years has been young black women?  next time you want to do a “blacks in America” show change your mind and do something about this thing that is still an epidemic, it’s called AIDS. what happened to AIDS? I have heard more about the bird flu. They say in news if it bleeds it leads. Well people still die from this illness so make this your lead. or even use it as filler next time you feel the need to cover a mans death 24 hours for 5 days strait. You’re welcome.

- note to self: when you fall down in public again (and you will fall down in public again) DO NOT pop back up as fast as you can! Laughter directed at your pain and ripped clothing hurts your feelings instead… lie motionless for as long as possible hold your breath and when you can no longer do that roll your eyes to the top of your head and twitch violently till some one calls the ambulance. If you can muster up some drool that’s a plus. Then when you hear the paramedics, that’s when you pop up as fast as you can, dust yourself off and walk through the crowd surrounding you and off into the sunset. PS Remember to wipe the drool off.

- dear wife: 10 years! WOW that’s cool. but isn’t it kind of random how they only make a big deal on anniversaries that are divisible by 5?  I say after this, let’s celebrate on years that are prime numbers.

- dear guy with one eye working at that place: I would think (seeing as how someone poked out your eye and you have no depth perception and you wouldn’t make a good eye witness and no one is really gonna see what your saying) that you would be a nicer less rude person…oh well guess I was wrong. I got my eye on you.
- Dear conspiracy theory documentarians: Are there any big organizations that work and do good?

- dear everyone at every store I’ve ever been in,  No I don’t work here!

- dear son “NO”does not mean look at me smile and then proceed to do what ever wrong thing you were doing, faster.
- dear doubt F%$@ you and anyone that look like you!
- dear men who try to pick up women on the street with that weak game: STOP! Seriously please. She hears you! she just is not listening to you. I’m am convinced that there is a legend of a man who did this sometime in the late 1700’s and went on to have the most amazing love affair that ever existed. I’m also convinced that every man that tries  to hit on a woman in this manner is either young & ignorant, has more ‘hope’ than the obama campaign, or has heard this amazing myth. who has this ever worked on, and would you really want anything from a woman that responded to your barking upon first call?  I just don’t get it. it’s summer time in the new millennium fellas step your game UP.

- dear professional athletes why don’t losers thank god at the end of games? Here is a short list of things to be thankful for, getting paid millions to play a game, the humility of losing that builds character, those nice sneakers you have on… im sure you and your loser friends can think of more
- dear producers of random crap and bad packaging please  stop making unnecessarily hard to open non biodegradable packaging for simple things then tell me I’m polluting the planet. Do your part.

- Dear any one who finds themselves saying “I’m a grown ass man/woman,” ponder this: When you see a guy in knee high socks with cleats on and a baseball cap holding a bat and swinging it at a ball with outquestion that’s a …come on…say it…yes that’s a baseball player. That person never has to yell up to the stands that he is indeed a baseball player. Let me make it plain I think what’s confusing people are one of 3 things. where you are, what you’re wearing or how you’re acting. Next time you feel the need to say that phrase check one of those 3 things take a deep breath then ask yourself if you need to go home change your clothes, not be where you are and or put some bass in your speaking voice.
- dear children I’m sorry adults run everything and nothing works. I swear some of us are really trying hard…my advice is to  have the good sense to create your own mistakes and don’t repeat ours.

Perez got pretty slammed on the Brooklyn blogs for her comments. “As much as I find Rosie Perez to be a decent actor, sexy and certainly part of NYC’s charm, I must say comments like these make me want to kick her in the shins,” wrote one commenter on Brownstoner. We cornered Perez after the show, and she was happy to clear up what she worried was a hostile comment. “What I really wanted to say was that, yes, I’m nostalgic for the past, but I’m also excited about the present and hopeful for the future,” she explained. “Things do change. Water always has to flow or else it becomes stale. But with change, you can bring along some of the good minerals that came from the top of the waterfall.” She said she’d read some of the blogs and seen the nasty comments. “I think it’s their guilt of being the gentrifiers. They don’t know how to take it,” she said. “But I had to look at myself and I realized it came off a little hostile, to be honest.”

What Rosie meant to express was that the neighborhood has a growing sense of elitism. “I live in Clinton Hill. The gentrification is not only the mom-and-pop shops getting displaced, residents getting displaced, people getting priced out even of the Associated markets,” she said. “It’s the sense of entitlement that people bring with them to the neighborhood.” People seem to think since they’re paying a premium for the lovely neighborhood, they don’t have to say hello, and they should be able to rule the space. They’ll think to themselves, Perez groans, “‘This is our place in the park, I don’t care if you played soccer here, we want to put our baby strollers here.’ What? Excuse me? That is not the feeling of New York. That is why New York City is the only place where you can come, whether you’re gay, straight, transgender, freak, geek, and live a fairly decent life and not get killed. If you do get killed, it’s probably a tiny, tiny percentage because of the color of your skin or because you want to wear a pink tutu on your head. But if you do that in Arkansas, you might get killed. In NYC, your chances [of getting killed] are very slim because it’s called tolerance and respect for your fellow humans. And saying hello to your neighbor is a great start. Even if you’re in a bad mood, just give me a nod.”

Next time we’re in Clinton Hill, Ms. Perez is certainly getting a tip of our hat.

by  Emma Pearse copied from www.nymag.com