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

p.s. to whom it my concern, we need to talk

Well folks you’d be wrong those images where from the year 2007 and the place those images were seen was on a banner ad on MYSPACE!

There’s more than one – in another, a similar character stands opposite a gorilla, with the goal of the game to push a coconut out of a tree.

If the ad were on a smaller site perhaps I could manage to be less concerned. But this site has captured the imagination of millions of people around the world and whether consciously or not they influence the perception of those people depicted. I know that these are concerns of myspace as indicated by their very detailed process of screening and the ability to report if some one is lewd, crass, offensive or otherwise insensitive. So imagine my shock when I didn’t get so much as a “we’ll look into it’ and got pretty much the same reaction when I sent the complaint to other sites whom I thought could help make my point.

The silence was deafening. Was I crazy?

I feel in our efforts as a country to see past race we deny ourselves the ability to actually heal from something we still suffer from. Kind of like taking a medication that only buffers the symptoms, but you still have a cold and you can still pass it on.
Ok so this is the point in the article where I give you my heart felt dissertation on the power of images and pull out my bibliography of quotes and books to prove to you that these issues still exist… but i think this time I won’t. This is a journey that I should not have to inspire you to take. Do the research yourself, ask yourself hard questions and be honest. in the mean time ill be working on alternatives. I’m actually taking a break from editing to write this – I found the unanswered letter I wrote to TOM from myspace and thought I’d make mention of it on my site before it vanished into obscurity.

Over the past few months I’ve been watching several historical films that deal with race in America (a solders story, crazy in Alabama, glory, in the heat of the night) and at the same time have been mulling over in my head the use by both public figures, my friends and myself of the word “nigga”

What is it about that word that’s so attractive?

Why is it ok to say it on TV and you cant say “shit?”

It’s supposed to be such an ugly word but it feels like it’s becoming increasingly common in our pop culture. My mind instantly flashes to a club that my friend took me to that was populated primarily with white people who where all dancing and having a good time and then the DJ spun the #1 song in America at the time which was “gold digger” by Kanye West. Everyone went crazy, as was the tradition at the time and started singing the song VERY LOUD! Tension built as the hook approached and to every ones credit no one said “nigger” but Kanye.

Which brings me to the question why? Why is ok for any one to use it? I mean, sure we can say whatever we want I’m not challenging that. I’m challenging the hypocrisy of it being called an ugly word but still being used casually. I don’t know how many interviews and talk show appearances I have heard people/artists say “when you use it enough it takes the power out of it” or “we use it for a term of endearment”

2 thoughts run through my mind
#1 we still got a lot of healing to do(not just black but this entire country)
#2 we are not being creative enough.

There were several words besides “nigger” that were used to denigrate and demean us that I feel should be used more often until the power is taken out of them, as well. Here’s a short list
- spade
- jigga bo
- tar baby
- egg plant
- spook
- sambo
- chimp
- ape
- snow flake
- spear chucker
- booty scratcher
- coon

Really try substituting those words in your mind for how you’ve herd the word nigga used.
“yo, that’s my Jigga bo”
“where my tar babies at?”
“all the real fly coons throw your hands up”
“ I ain’t sayin’ she’s a gold digger be she ain’t messing wit’ no broke spear chuckers”
See. Its got a little sting to it that I think “nigger” has lost…and if all else fails emphasize the “ER” that was at the end of “nigga” before it was dropped for the “A”

I finally got the courage to watch “Hotel Rwanda” last night. I followed that story in the news when it was happening and it was hard to deal with then. Hard to read and then digest as reality. It’s hard to imagine somewhere in the world shit like that is still going on. Needless to say I had some ill nightmares last night. It was happening here and the warring factions were gangs and of course there were people trapped in the middle and I was one. All these MCs were on the radio encouraging the killing and it was all the gangs would listen to. There was no Paul Ruesesabagina to negotiate for lives, there was no safe space – as often there is not. I won’t get into details as those of you who actually read this blog from time to time are probably tired of reading about my personal slice of ‘uglies’ in my world.

Ask yourself this question this 4th of July. When was it ever not an ugly time in human existence? Horror exists, it seems weather we choose to pay attention to it or not. Perhaps it serves some greater functions that we don’t see but regardless there it is.

2 things really quickly before I change the subject dramatically – #1. there is a line in the national anthem that says “…the bombs bursting in air gave proof through the night that the flag was still there” do you know how many fucking bombs have to go off to see something through an entire night? #2 there was a song during the credits of “Hotel Rwanda” that made my jaw drop almost as much as some parts of the movie. It was a song by Wyclef and in the song he said “if America is the United States of America why cant Africa be the united states of Africa? and if England is the United Kingdom why cant Africa unite all its Kingdoms and become the United Kingdom of Africa”.

Is he not aware that this county was attained by genocide that till this day is not historically dealt with fully? Actually it was started by people from the United Kingdom who enslaved, tortured and conquered people all around the world – not just here. ACTUALLY it’s the reason I speak and write English and can’t even dream in a language native to where any of my people are from. ACTUALLY I don’t want to go into how wack that line was (to me)… I should try to see the positive in everything. I think he was trying to just say ‘Africa Unite’… however it was poorly executed.

Hey at least it wasn’t him putting his energy into a line like “it’s hard out here for a pimp”

pimping is illegal… shouldnt it be hard?

A friend of mine went to a FREE screening of “Hustle and Flow” and not only does she want her money back (LOL) but she said that it was so sad that it’s worth REopening our “why black folks aint gonna rise” file. For those of you who aren’t in on the joke, the “why black folks aint gonna rise” file was an actual file that us and some of our friends kept where we collected things created by black folks or about black folks that we felt did more harm than good (in our opinion) and couldn’t believe existed in this day and time.

OK so let me end this blog with something WACK about ME and then something happy.

I realized this past week that I’m really vain. I DJ’d at a club a couple of weeks ago and usually I shave my mustache off. The gig went great, some days passed and I got an ingrown hair on the rim of my lip that was unpopable. I know this because I squeezed it in every direction which only made it red and big, real big. It looked like a giant herpe and it changed my whole attitude. I was even hesitant to go out cause I knew I would feel obligated to explain that what was on my lip was not contagious and folks can greet me affectionately without fear. It has since gone through the stages of pimpledom and is on its way out but I was amazed at how something so small can change your life.

The last thing I’ll leave yall with is that recently me and my wife celebrated our 6th year wedding anniversary and almost didn’t notice. Its been great fun. It still feels like one big sleepover. Neither of us is really that into remembering dates but we’re happy – more so than either of us thought possible. I suppose I can balance the statement made earlier by saying: When in history hasn’t love and happiness shined through the darkness and colored our human experience for the better? There has always been that, weather we choose to see it or not.

I suppose recognizing the balance between what’s ugly and what’s beautiful is what makes each so.

At the MLK day festival last week, I got into a lot of conversations involving the words “they” and “we.” What I realized and mentioned in a couple of those conversations is that the power to change things can only come from changing that “we” to “I”.

For instance there was this young man that walked the entire length of the celebration very slowly with 2 scantly clad women (one black woman, one white) walking behind him. At first glance (and 2nd and 3rd and 70th) he appeared to be a pimp.

I say “appeared to be” because I don’t want to assume. Perhaps he was in a horrible fire the night before that consumed all of his clothes and the only place open before the festival was a costume shop. Perhaps the costume shop (Mid-January being so soon after Halloween) only had 3 outfits left, a pimp, a KKK member, and a clown… so he chose the less of 3 evils and came as a pimp. As for the 2 young ladies, perhaps they weren’t prostitutes at all, but his friends, who dressed up like that for moral support. Or, maybe he WAS a pimp and his miniature multiracial prostitute parade was his perverse interpretation of MLK’s dream.

What bothered me is that no one stopped him and said anything. What bothers me more is that “I” didn’t stop him. Whether or not he realized it, he made a statement that day and “I” didn’t. He’s in the back of my psyche and I’m not in his, and “I” only have me to blame. “We” must be as bold as “they.”

We/I need to start booing at poor performances

We/I need to pull poorly behaved children over and talk to them

We/I need to be less of a hermit so that people see alternatives

We/I need to need to be more pro active and practical in our day to day application of love on others,

We/I need to know that there are no small things all things matter.

The flip side of this story was that after the celebration, several teens gathered in the parking lot to battle. But not with violence – with dance!! It took me back to see that. It also took me back when I saw the po-po (police… duh) arrive. But to my surprise they looked the situation over and let it be. My wife and our homegirl went up to them and actually thanked them for treating our children like human beings. It’s important to tell po-po when they do the right thing. We need to be as bold as the truth.