Hi Black Folks!

My name is David Sylvester and I recently completed a charitable bicycle trip in Africa, riding over 7000 miles from Cairo, Egypt to Cape Town, South Africa . The trip made me the first and only African American to cross two continents on a bicycle. I have plenty of great and fascinating stories. Many are funny, others bittersweet, some are poignant, but all are entertaining. Surprisingly one story has stood out and if it was not for the fact that I have a picture of it, many would never believe it. and it is for that reason that I am sharing it with you.

While in Lilongwe, Malawi, I came across a store by the name of “Niggers” -that’s right ” Niggers”! The other riders, who were all white, could not wait to inform me of this to see my reaction. Initially, I thought that it was a very bad joke but when the other riders were adamant about the existence of the store, I had to see it for myself.

What I found was a store selling what the owner called ‘hip hop’ style clothing . It was manned by two gentlemen – one of them asleep! (Talk about living up to or in this case down to a stereotype) I asked the guys what was up with the store name. After hearing my obvious non – Malawian accent and figuring out that I was from America, the man thumped his chest proudly and said “P-Diddy New York City! We are the niggers!”

My first reaction was to laugh, because many things when isolated can be very funny, but it quickly dawned on me that this was so not funny at all. It was pathetic. I did these bicycle trips across the USA and through the ‘Mother -Land’ in honor of one of my good friends, mentors and fellow African American, Kevin Bowser, who died on 9/11. Here I am, a black man riding across the world on his bicycle in honor of another black man, riding ‘home’ and what do I see?? Some Africans calling themselves Niggers! They were even so proud of it they put it on their store front to sell stuff. When I relay the story to folks back home in Philadelphia, most of them laugh too and rationalize it by saying ‘well, we can say it to each other’ or ‘there is a difference’ or even ‘they just spelled it wrong. It should have been ‘nigga’s’ or ‘niggah’s’ Gee like that would make a difference. [Read more]

HOW TO BE A POET
Mike Believe brings you a tongue-in-cheek guide to getting your slam on

BEFORE YOU START:
1. Change your name: Sorry to tell you this, but the name ya mama gave you ain’t gonna cut it. The names of gods of lesser known religions always work. Prefixes like “king”, “queen,” “sista” “brotha” or “mother” will do.
Here are some ideas to get you started: Allah-zilla, sista tofu, olos nah, Al Bino, kizer SEW SAY, bob Marley jr jr, omega supreme, optimus prime, M.C. squared, Unspoken word, the brown hornet, SO SO BLACK, NICK SAINT, queen Solomon, Jesus Jackson, brotha twig .
2. Look the part: It’s not what you say, but how you look when you say it. Here are some fashion tips for the aspiring slam star:
- NEVER comb your hair! Grow locks if you can – might be a good prop later on. Remember facial hair works for both males and females.?
- Head wraps & wool hats are appropriate in any season. Looking hot and uncomfortable will subconsciously bend the audience in your favor.
- Wear red black and green wrist-bands. If you’re not black, red gold and green works just as well.
- Approach the mic with a well-chewed chew-stick in your mouth.
- Rock t- shirts of slain political leaders. When Che or Malcolm X are not available, Bob Marley makes a good stand in.
3. Never have paper- Reading from paper on stage makes you appear amateurish and unsure about your feelings. Unless you are an established slammer in which case you can say you JUST wrote this & folks will be even more impressed Remember this is not a forum about sharing your true feelings with a group of caring, listening people? It’s about performance, first & foremost. Your poem about your dear departed mother may be heartfelt and well-crafted, but if you’re shuffling through papers the implication is that she wasn’t good enough for you to memorize the piece.
4. From foreign lands- Whenever possible, be a person of color, preferably from a place with an accent. It makes you seem exotic and people are less likely to question you, as Americans don’t get out much. If unsure what ethnicity to claim, just say that you are half or three quarters of something.

CONTENT
1. Explore the canon with this list of mandatory subject matter:
- I don’t fit your stereotype poems
-I hate (insert name of political leader everyone hates here)poems. No research necessary for this one. Remember this: no one checks facts that are stated loudly.
- The revolution will not be (something that rhymes with televised) poems
- I really love hip-hop poems, preferably referencing old school personify hip hop as a woman be sure not to mention that Common did that on his second album
- Sex poems. In graphic detail, preferably featuring extended metaphors about food, sports, or architecture.
- Poems about poetry
- Being a woman/all things womb related
- Answer poems. These are a great way to ride the steam of last week’s most popular piece.
- Cultural food poems
- Weed poems.
- I love your genitalia poems. This archetype is also commonly known as the ***** poem . It’s the theatrical equivalent of a personal ad. Context and innuendo is everything here. As an exercise, read the package instructions to BEN GAY aloud, really slowly and with many breathy pauses.

2. Never be happy- Misery loves company that’s why poetry readings are packed. On the off-chance that the audience is actually listening, you should never have anything celebratory or particularly happy to say. I did a poem one time about how happy I was and was nearly beaten to death by the angry mob wielding still-hot tea bags and sharpened chew sticks. Keep your tone somber, accusatory, strident, and/or mournful.
3. Have a chorus or hook – If you don’t think your thought will pan out for your full 5 minutes of microphone time, a chorus or hook can be your best friend. Repeat a catchy line, or even just the title of the poem after approximately 3 lines of literature. If the audience looks like they are not buying it, have them say it with you. side note if you’re black you can do an entire poem using the N-word at the end of every line to rhyme, try it.
4. Buzz words you can never go wrong with
- 3rd eye – Cipher – 360º – Higher level – Sista/brotha/queen/king? – Mental? – Womb and/or tomb (together are a lethal combination) – Lick – Amerikkka? – Made-up words that sound like they might be real. Trust, no one will remember them long enough to check when they get home. Try these out: Divionism, angeration, fuckery, de-mock rah see, conversate
5. Other artists names to evoke or quote:?Bob Marley, Che, Malcolm X, Gil Scott-Heron, Nikki Giovanni, Saul Williams, Maya Angelou, Chuck D, KRS 1, Taye Diggs. The key is to try to evoke names of people you are sure not to meet any time soon. Dead people don’t get out much so using their names is virtually risk-free. Feel free to misquote them as you see fit.

PERFORMANCE TIPS
1. Voice Control : Two strategies here, and both are good for emphasizing key points. The first is to learn to yell really, really loudly. Things spoken loudly must be the truth, or at least seem intense enough to pass as such. The second is to hold the last note of every fifth word or so. Yes its cliché but clichés are clichés because they work not matter who does it.
2. The art of the intro: This is the only time people are guaranteed to actually listen to what you have to say, so drag out your intro for as long as possible. Think of it as getting 2 poems out for the price of one. Here are some classic ice-breakers:
- I just wrote this
- Where’s Brooklyn at? (guaranteed to work anywhere in the world)
- I just moved here last week
- I had a hard day today, y’all. . .
- Peace and blessings?
- You’ll have to excuse me if I cant get through this with out crying its about my ________
- This was really hard for me to write
- Have you ever been _________ and _______ happens well that happened to me and I wrote this?
- This one’s for the ladies
- This is my first time up here
- Can u hear me in the back?
3. Closing your eyes and flailing your arms: Arm-flailing is absolutely necessary. (In fact, having hands free to flail is an extra advantage of not using paper.) The effect on the audience member is that you are possessed. Even more effective when combined with closed eyes.
4. Mastering the silent thank you: When the clapping starts at the end of your piece, first bite your bottom lip, then silently mouth the word VELENCIO to yourself while nodding and walking off. It looks like you’re saying something gracious and humble. Try it in a mirror to get the gestures right.

ADVANCED TECHNIQUES
Once you have mastered the basic poetry skills, it’s time to introduce the advanced techniques. The following are major theatrics and are best left for the pros:
Tears -If you can cry on cue, do so at every possible opportunity. Even better if you are already crying when you come to the mic.
Partners/group work- If you are not into sharing the love please don’t attempt.
Singing- Always great for emphasis(no actual singing skills required)
Abstract poems (advanced) This my friend is my favorite of all. You can literally say anything. It’s all in the delivery.
You should see a difference in your fan base within 2-3 weeks by following these simple steps. Results may vary

Dear Friends,

Something historic happened yesterday. For the first time since 1877 a member of the House and a member of the Senate stood up together to object to the outcome of a presidential election.

This is the first step on a necessary road toward making sure that everyone is allowed to vote and that every vote is counted (something we did not see in 2000 or 2004) so the next time around ALL of us can be confident, when the election results come in, that they reflect the will of the people, not the whim of mechanical error and human obstruction.

Unlike 2000, when the black members of Congress were told to sit down and shut up, this time a senator had the courage to stand with them, as the law requires, to force Congress to go back to their separate chambers to discuss and debate the issues surrounding the vote count. Senator Barbara Boxer rose to the occasion and stood with Ohio Representative Stephanie Tubbs Jones and 29 other Representatives “to cast the light of truth on a flawed system which must be fixed now.” The ensuing debate, at times, became a debate over me and all of you and the fact that we would dare make the attempt to protect our democracy.

[Read more]

DEF POERY JAM REVIEW

byLATASH N NEVADA DIGGS
so yeah…this girl said “he fucked me like brooklyn” at a recent taping for
Def Poetry Jam’s fourth session.

so what’s in it for me?

(I) am the voyeur who needs to be viewed w/ parameters. a (hy)brid
mix master of hermit & camera hog. harlem/chicago
cage dancer & green thumb
good days. sour months. wick wick wack poems. analog prose.

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im tired of “___________” parties. first it was stevie wonder parties and that was real cool and original for a minute. but then all the biters and those hungry for attention started having everything from michael jackson and prince parties to MADONNA parties. MADONNA?? what about just playing good music! remember good music parties? just today i recieved at least 2 emails about 2 separate rick james parties!!!!!!! i know they won’t be the last. it seems as though everybody’s jumping on board this brilliant man’s work to promote their parties. its sad to know it took his death (and a very very funny comedy skit) to bring focus to his years of amazing work. so could you wack, unimaginative, non DJing, non record collecting, non risktaking, pseudo eclectic, ambulance chasing, pretty looking, classroom trained, soul less, self proclaimed DJ’s please stop. i can’t wait till we get back from st.croix and i get some new turn tables. its on.

ID RATHER GO BLIND
A RANT BY ANGELICA LINDSEY

Ok, so Macy Gray wants to be a social activist. At least that’s what she wanted the people who showed up at her naked concert to believe.

Yep, you read right, Macy Gray performed in a London concert as bare as the day she was born. Clad in nothing more than a necklace and seated in a gilded chair emblazoned with the words “I’d Rather Go Naked”, Macy Gray did something for the people. Or did she?

The July 5 London concert was staged to raise awareness and funds for AIDS. The infamous Ms. Gray was photographed during the concert in Jimmy Choo stilettos. The photos will be used as part of a media campaign featuring other nude celebrities who are involved in the fight against the AIDS epidemic. Now, I know what some of you might be thinking. “Macy Gray? Nude? I gotta see this!” And that’s precisely my point. While Gray’s intentions may have been genuine, her naked approach to AIDS awareness looks to me to be just another media ploy to use sex as a way of garnering attention.

Was this a progressive, liberating, and creative marketing tool designed to bring awareness to the AIDS epidemic? Or was it little more than a stab at self-promotion by an artist whose visibility in the public eye has been insignificant at best? At a moment when Bill Cosby is lambasted for presenting cogent arguments about Black youth in America, why are we applauding Macy Gray for doing something that has no artistic merit or intellectual value? I mean, after all, couldn’t she just have announced that the proceeds of her concert would benefit AIDS research?

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yesterday, from three different people, i got that email forward.

you know the one.

“you’ll lose your hotmail if you don’t forward this to 10 — 20 — 30 of your friends and also you’ll catch the plague and get yr kidney stolen and die but if you forward it bill gates will send you a check for $4,835.93, i know because my cousin got hers!”

we’ve all gotten this annoying-ass missive at one time or another, usually from some well-meaning and friendly soul who thinks they’re doing a good & helpful thing.

they are not. they are killing electronic trees & cluttering up my inbox with cyber trash. this morning i was inspired to commision an educational initiative from honeychild-hates-forwards, inc.

what follows is a couple of unmitigated truths of email, hoaxes, and the art and science of forwarding nonsense to innocent cyber-bystanders. this information is good to know in general but has particular good use as a guideline for what not to send to ME. please feel free to forward THIS around, far and wide.

1. if something increases font size three times in the course of the email, it is ALMOST CERTAINLY BULLSHIT.

don’t send it to me.

2. if it tells you you have to forward it to 10 people, 20 people, or “everyone in your address book,” it is DEFINITELY BULLSHIT.

don’t send it to me.

3. if it threatens you with the loss of your email, or promises you money from some corporation, but doesn’t come directly from the corporation or service provider in question, it is NECESSARILY, OBVIOUSLY, INDUBITABLY BULLSHIT. nothing somebody forwards you is or can be official correspondence, it can never be traced by the company supposedly involved, it is NOT real, and it is annoying as hell.

don’t send it to me.

4. if it promises good luck, or threatens bad luck, it’s KARMICALLY EVIL BULLSHIT.

don’t send it to me.

aaarrrghhghghg!!!

this has been a public service announcement brought to you by jamyla-hates-forwards, inc.

fooey on that person, whoever it was. i mean, what is the purpose of cramps? what is their reason? is it about fitness? am i building hidden muscle power in some secret velvet place? my body is doing something fabulous & necessary and kind of clever, after all; purging and renewing its very cells! why should this not be a fun time filled with wonder and the delicate crystal song of new electrons dancing?

i read somewhere once that our bodies do not retain sense-memory of pain. we just can’t do it. you know those little orgasm after-shocks that rock you an hour after a Good One? no such physiological equivalent for ouches. once the pain is gone, it is GONE. perhaps this is how women come to give birth to more than one child. (hee hee.) more relevant to my own experience, perhaps this is why each month i sing the same broken lament: in the face of sudden & always somehow surprising crampage, i mourn my absentmindedness and demand of myself the IMMEDIATE development of better pain management skills.

i imagine it needn’t be that hard. i imagine it would simply require greater attention paid to the dosage/schedule/timing of the soup of random chemicals i ingest for two days every month.

i’m talkin the good stuff. ibuprofen, acitometophen, aspirin, naproxin sodium. sometimes combined in strange and intoxitating ways with that kick-starter, caffeine, by the people at MIDOL or EXCEDRIN (yeah daddy, talk those sweet chemical compounds to me.)

now, normally i’m not a huge supporter of the medical/industrial complex in general. i much prefer unadvertised and organic substances that can be plucked from the fertile earth and swallowed, smoked, steeped and sipped, or used as a fabulous conditioning rinse, depending.

but once a month, like many other Good Witches In The West with extremely low pain thresholds, i take my meds. i pop them when i feel the twinge, then languish in agony until it’s gone. and in that moment, that’s my only thought. not, ‘fight the power’ or ‘affordable healthcare for all’ or ‘the earth is our mother, she has all i need,’ but ‘GET THE PAIN GONE.’

and then once it’s gone, because i am a dunderhead, i forget i’m supposed to be in pain at all and go gallavanting around living my ordinary life of constant discovery and joy in everything. until WHAM-O, back it comes and i’m like, “oh, that’s right, my period just started. my uterus is doing stuff, huh? i should’ve probably taken another one of those little pills like twenty minutes ago, and then i wouldn’t be curling slowly into a fetal ball right now.”

o, cruel attention span, thou art mine own worst enemy.

grumble grumble.

I know you’ve been thinking it. And if you haven’t, you probably haven’t been paying attention. The art we once called hip hop has been dead for some time now. But because its rotting carcass has been draped in platinum and propped against a Gucci print car, many of us have missed its demise.

I think the time has come to bid a farewell to the last black arts movement. It’s had a good run but it no longer serves the community that spawned it. Innovation has been replaced with mediocrity and originality replaced with recycled nostalgia for the ghost of hip hop past, leaving nothing to look forward to. Honestly when was the last time you heard something (mainstream) that made you want to run around in circles and write down every word. When was the last time you didn’t feel guilty nodding your head to a song that had a ‘hot beat’ after realizing the lyrical content made you cringe.

When I heard Jam Master Jay had been murdered, it was the icing on the cake. A friend and I spoke for hours after he’d turned on the radio looking for solace and instead heard a member of the label Murder, Inc. about to give testimony about the slain DJ’s legacy. My friend found the irony too great to even hear what the rapper had to say.

After we got off the phone, I dug through my crates and played the single ‘Self Destruction.’ The needle fell on the lyrics:

They call us animals
I don’t agree with them
Let’s prove em wrong
But right is what were proving em?

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