Big Deal

I’ve purposely waited several days to comment on the following because I wanted to fully understand the impact and to be sure I articulate my feelings accurately. On Monday in an article he penned for Sports Illustrated, Jason Collins became the first active U.S. athlete to come out as Gay in a major sport, specifically the NBA. I don’t follow the NBA closely enough to know his name but I now know it’s one I’ll never forget. Over the last several days I’ve read countless articles and op-ed pieces and although there were quite a few positive comments including one from President Obama, the negative ones were full of hate and to be honest pretty disgusting. As expected, Christian zealots were swift with their Bible tossing. Chris Broussard a commentator for ESPN declared homosexuality an "open rebellion to God" and stated he does not consider Jason Collins to be a Christian. Ok, so that’s his opinion and it’s expected from the Evangelical crowd, I just wouldn’t have expected to hear it on ESPN…and by the way, thanks for the Christian compassion buddy. Just in case you’re curious the question posed to Chris Broussard was “what does it mean for Jason Collins to play as an openly Gay person in the NBA?” not sure why it lead him to quote scripture. Rush Limbaugh was quick to defend Chris Broussard and boo hooed about the plight of the persecuted straight White male or some such nonsense, I don’t know I lost interest. (Note to self, stop clicking on stories about his fat ass)

Quite a few of the commenters stated they were sick of the Gay Agenda being forced on them and Gay people flaunting their sex lives everywhere. They wondered why Gay people couldn’t “just keep all of that to themselves”. Many stated that they watch sports for the game and don’t want to know all about the players’ sex lives and what goes on in their bedrooms. Okay then, I no longer want to read about any sports figure's engagements, dating habits, break ups, or marriages. I don't want to see them photographed with their supermodel, singer, or actress girlfriends while out having dinner. I don't want to read about what carat of diamond they bought and how the size of the diamond is supposed to make up for the fact that the man cheated. In fact, Jason Collins never detailed his sex life or what goes on in his bedroom. When a person states that they are Gay they are declaring their sexual orientation, if your mind immediately goes to a detailed sex act upon hearing the news, maybe you’re the one with the problem.

What really caught my attention was a theme running throughout the comments stating the announcement wasn’t a big deal and there were more important things going on such as the struggling U.S. economy. Some said big deal, so a mediocre NBA player at the end of his career is Gay or big deal how does some Gay athlete coming out affect my life. Of course the cynics came out in droves with accusations of a nefarious plot being hatched by Collins, who is currently a free agent, to get signed to a new team. So let me get this straight (pardon the pun) Collins comes out as Gay to get signed, yet he has no idea if his teammates will turn on him or refuse to share a locker room with him. He now has to deal with the taunts and hatred and wonder if some unstable individual or group will target him for a violent act and more importantly he now knows that no matter what he does for the rest of his life, this is what his name will be synonymous with. These types of comments can only come from those who have no idea what it is like to have to live a secret life or risk losing a career simply because of who you are. They have no clue of the emotional toll and the difficulty of coming out to not only his friends and family but to the world. And for the record anyone who for one second thinks that there are not more Gay athletes still inside the locker room is a fool.

So here’s the big deal as I see it. Nobody expects the world to stop spinning because of the announcement but if something doesn’t affect you directly it doesn’t lessen its importance and no matter what anyone may say to the contrary, this most certainly is a big deal. It’s a big deal because visibility is important. If some young child looks at Collins and is inspired and realizes that just because they may be Gay doesn’t mean they can’t grow up to be successful in their chosen field of sports, that’s a big deal. It’s a big deal to the isolated and frightened Gay school kids who have absolutely no role models and people telling them they can never be who they are or aspire to who they want to be. It’s a big deal to the kids who will be beaten and kicked out of their houses for being Gay, kids who will never talk to their biological families again kids who are told they are sick, perverted and in need of reparative aid. It’s a big deal to anyone who has the compassion to understand the loneliness of many Gay youth and the horrifying suicide rates among Gay teens. It’s a big deal to Gay people in all professions who face possible backlash from co-workers, employers, and members of the general public simply for being who they are. It’s a big deal because we live in a society where Gay people are still being physically brutalized and even murdered because they are Gay. It’s a big deal because it challenges the notion of the feminine Gay male and the negative stereotypical caricatures of Gay men in women’s high heels with purses as depicted on TV shows such as The Real Housewives of Atlanta. It’s a big deal because it leads us to redefine the terms of masculinity and exposes the world to the image of a strong masculine African-American Gay man. Yep, it’s a big fucking deal.

I look forward to the day when the declaration of one’s sexual identity is not a big deal but today is not that day. On Monday Jason Collins had the dignity, courage and conviction to break the barrier and come out of the locker room as the first openly Gay active professional male athlete and I applaud him for his inspirational bravery. I’d like to leave you with an excerpt from Jason Collins’ Sports Illustrated article, "It takes an enormous amount of energy to guard such a big secret. I've endured years of misery and gone to enormous lengths to live a lie." “I kept telling myself the sky was red when I knew it was blue, I want to be genuine and authentic and truthful. I want to take a stand and say me too.”

Everybody Get Up!

Recently while driving and listening to music on the radio I had a conversation with my sister. We lamented on the fact that the song stylists of today don’t really know how to craft a lyric as well as those from the good old days. Even with dance music, all you hear now days is a repetitive techno beat or booty shaking music with unintelligible lyrics. (I dare you to decipher the monotone mumbling on any ‘Lil Wayne song) Now let me be clear, there’s nothing wrong with shaking your booty but songs from the past gave you relatable stories while you danced. For instance, Marvin Gaye’s Got to Give It Up. The song tells the story of a shy wallflower who ultimately couldn’t resist getting his boogie on. “I used to go out to parties and stand around, ‘cause I was too nervous to really get down”. You see although Marvin had the desire he was afraid to really let go. There was something holding him back yet at the same time pulling him in, listening to the song you could almost see him standing around watching others uninhibited enjoying themselves and him longing to join in. He continues, “But my body yearned to be free, I got up on the floor for somebody to choose me”. The call of the boogie is a strong one folks, try as he may he couldn’t resist the urge to dance and ultimately did Give it Up. He discovered that “As long as you’re grooving, there’s always a chance, somebody watching might wanna make romance”…classic!

The Temptations gave us Psychedelic Shack, “let me tell you ‘bout a place I know, to get in it don’t take much dough”. Just in case you were unsure about exactly what type of setting they were speaking of they provided the following, “It's got a neon sign outside that says, Come in and take a look at your mind, You'd be surprised at what you might find”. Apparently this was one of those establishments where one may find persons partaking in recreational mind altering substances...ok, they were getting high. Rick James introduced us to a provocative Super Freak. Apparently, “she’s a very kinky girl, the kind you don't take home to mother, she will never let your spirits down, once you get her off the street”. Umm ok but not so sure you should be too excited about someone you have to get off the street and to be clear apparently if you don’t get her off the street she will let your spirits down… just saying. Prince told us to “Party like its 1999”…sheesh, it seemed so far away at the time. He also detailed what would happen If I Were Your Girlfriend which in spite of sounding kinky was quite an ode to devotion. “If I was your girlfriend would you remember to tell me all of the things you forgot when I was your man? If I was your best friend would you let me take care of you and do all the things that only a best friend can?

There were tales of love, heartache and even surprise breakups such as the Gap Band’s Burn Rubber, “You told me to go up the block, To get you a strawberry pop, When I got back to the flat, You had burned rubber out the back” Damn, talk about cold she waited for him to leave and then booked, they even had the sound of the car peeling out. Just a small note here, when was the last time you heard the expression strawberry pop or red soda water for that matter. It was even possible to be romantically aggressive while dancing like when Teddy Pendergrass sang Turn Off the Lights…“TURN EM OFF!!” He meant that shit, if you didn’t turn off the damn lights your ass was in trouble. Women were rushing around turning off lights in rooms they weren’t even in. Of course Jody Watley was no better Looking for a new love, “Now other guys will have me, they'll appreciate my love, tell me, how does it feel? Wow, not only am I gonna sleep with other guys after I leave you I’m gonna tell you about it and then get all Oprah Winfrey on your ass and ask about your feelings. Damn girl!

Even when rap came along the story telling dancing continued. Who could resist the Sugar Hill Gang’s “Now what you hear is not a test, I'm rappin’ to the beat and me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet”. So this was no fire drill people it was the real thing and you knew exactly what their intentions were. Only a fool was occupying wall space as they continued, “Have you ever went over a friend’s house to eat and the food just ain't no good? The macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed and the chicken tastes like wood.”…come on in spite of the bad grammar you’re thinking about hitting the dance floor right now or at least avoiding that friend’s house with the Hell’s Kitchen reject for a mother (you know the one). Even Lady T got into the mix with Square Biz one of the first rap vocal performances, “Baby, what's happening entre vous Lady Tee I've heard a boatload of others ladies' raps but they ain't got nothin' on me, I'm less than five foot one, a hundred pounds of fun I like sophisticated funk, I live on Dom Perignon, caviar, filet mignon and you can best believe that's bunk. Here's what I'm talking, baby, Square Biz”. So Teena not only enticed you to dance she did so with a boastful arrogance that stimulated your mind adding a little French and some elegant dining suggestions as well. Classy.

At any rate, I know we can’t relive the past (except maybe on a good playlist) and to ask that things never change would be too much. So let me end with this, how about you Reminisce on the Good Times and how you still “Can’t get enough, of that Funky Stuff” or the nights spent Hollywood Swingin’, dancing with a Brick House and surviving through Joy and Pain. The fun you had with your School Boy Crush when you would Shake Your Body Down to the Ground like a Dancing Machine, break out in a Cold Sweat and then exclaim Let’s Groove Tonight all while riding the Mothership Connection, which was quite a Thriller. And don’t forget the Boogie Nights or how much fun it was to Cut the Cake. So tonight despite accusations that you may be Living for the Weekend, you know you’ve Got To Be Real so find the Reasons to Celebrate and Give up the Funk put on your Boogie Shoes, Shake Your Pants and Dance, Dance, Dance.

Ebony & Ivory, 2013

THIS JUST IN! LL Cool J has decided that African-Americans should let the knowledge of the horrors of slavery simply fade away and get over it. LL along with country artist Brad Paisley has released a single entitled “Accidental Racist”. The title alone is ridiculous enough to make you cringe, as if one is able to trip on a banana peel and fall into racism. Racism is certainly not ever accidental and most always deliberate and should not be confused with prejudice. Racism is a structured process by which one group has more power or exercises more power over another because of the color of their skin. To imply that any person can be racist accidental or otherwise is absurd. African-Americans and other minorities simply don't have the ability to systematically deny people of other races access to jobs, housing and education…especially not by accident. So according to these two scholars of racial acceptance we’re supposed to just forget the monumental events that lead us to the situation we find ourselves in today. We should just forget the institutional, economic and political power to crush the aspirations of African-Americans and other minorities. In the song the two suggest that the problem of racism is simply people not understanding each other and that if we took the time to get to know one anotherrrrrrrrrrr zzzzzzzzzzzz…sorry bullshit usually puts me to sleep.

I might be less critical if this were a sincere attempt to construct dialogue on an admittedly sore subject but these two idiots simply trade verses back and forth in an ignorant, uninformed, preachy tone…oh yeah, and stupid. Sample lyrics from Paisley: "I'm proud of where I'm from but not everything we've done, and it ain't like you and me can rewrite history". Really Brad? I think the state of Texas is doing a pretty good job rewriting the past with their revisionist public school text books that pretty much deny the existence and history of slavery in the United States. He also feels the need to explain his peculiar fashion choices in particular his desire to wear t-shirts emblazoned with the Confederate flag, “when I put on that t-shirt, the only thing I meant to say is I'm a Skynyrd fan, the red flag on my chest somehow is like the elephant in the corner of the south, and I just walked him right in the room, just a proud rebel son with an ‘ol can of worms.” Uh what now? What the hell does that even mean and what happened to inserting a rhyme or two in a song folks? Someone should inform Brad of the history of his “proud” rebel flag. Explain to him how the Confederate flag regained popularity during the civil rights era amidst the struggles against Jim Crow laws, lynching and forced segregation. Explain to him that his red flag is not about “Southern pride” it’s about symbolizing racism, oppression and white supremacy and only an uninformed idiot would pretend otherwise…dumb ass.

And Mr. Cool J is no better. He actually wrote these lyrics, “If you don't judge my gold chains, I'll forget the iron chains”. WOW!!! Well, at least he rhymed. LL you should know that stereotyping a person for their ridiculous fashion choices is not something akin to the pain of being chained and shackled into forced labor and the comparison is both hurtful and offensive…besides, wearing tacky jewelry only hurts the eyes. But wait it gets better, “Dear Mr. White Man, I wish you understood, what the world is really like when you're livin' in the hood, just because my pants are saggin' doesn't mean I'm up to no good, you should try to get to know me, I really wish you would”…seriously what is up with this man’s fascination with fashion? If his pants are sagging at 45 years old somebody needs to check him. Dear Mr. White man?! Honestly if these lyrics were written by a 4th grader I would understand but this from arguably one of the greatest MC’s of all time? Later in the song he gives a shout out to Confederate Army commander Robert E. Lee, “RIP Robert E. Lee but I've gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean”. Seriously, somebody needs to snatch this man’s Negro Card.

Amnesia is not the means to end racism folks and ignoring the past is an insult to those who lived and struggled through it. Slavery may have ended 150 years ago but the resulting effect thrives. Stupid ass let’s all just forgive each other, let bygones be bygones and get along songs like this suggest that there is some historical equivalence between blacks and whites. What the hell do Blacks need to be forgiven for? The fact is people continue to suffer from racism and oppression every day and it's insulting to insinuate otherwise. The way we can all move forward and just get along is to acknowledge and reverse the damage done by slavery not pretending it never happened. Coming up next, Accidental White Privilege.

Entitlements

The nerve of those presumptuous uppity colored folks, not only do these people expect to vote they want it to be free of obstruction. What’s wrong with these people are they completely unaware of the 3/5 Compromise? Apparently this is the thinking of Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia because according to him the 1965 Voting Rights Act (VRA) contributes to the “perpetuation of racial entitlement.” Someone needs to explain to the Justice that voting for all citizens is a right and not an entitlement. Or maybe it’s just that a person of racist ideals would assume that White people allowing people of color to vote qualifies as an entitlement. The question before the court is whether states with a long history of racial discrimination must still get permission from the Justice Department before changing their voting laws as required by the VRA. The whole reason for the Voting Rights Act was that these states were exercising White entitlements to control and suppress the voting process and it was enacted to ensure these state governments would no longer continue such practices. The questionable tactics used in the recent election such as limiting voter accessibility makes evident the flaw in Scalia's statement.

Is it possible that this idiot thinks that post emancipation everything was suddenly all honky-dory for Black folk. Justice Scalia, apparently suffering from selective amnesia should be reminded of our nations historical racism and of all those who were washed down the streets with fire hoses, subjected to beatings and lynching, attacked by dogs and jailed just to secure the right to vote. It really wasn’t that long ago and quite honestly when it comes to voting rights not a lot has changed. You should be able to cast your ballot at your local church, school gymnasium or the neighborhood You Buy We Fry (50% off your order when you vote) without fear of intimidation or restriction and without having to conquer logistical hurdles placed in your path. Too bad it’s not that simple. The very states who insist that discrimination is a thing of the past and are fighting to eliminate the VRA are the very ones with the most obstacles. Both Texas and Louisiana have been cited for violating the VRA recently when attempting to redistrict. In fact, the case before the Supreme Court to overturn the act comes from Alabama of all places…two words, George Wallace.

So we’ve now twice successfully elected an African-American President and contemptuous legislators and jurist such as Scalia cynically assert that we have overcome. Of course we haven’t and voters are still in need of protection. The VRA was created to ensure the blatantly racist states of the segregated South would no longer be able to overtly deny African-Americans the right to vote. Detractors who wish to eliminate the VRA advocate that the law is outdated and no longer necessary as these states have eliminated voter deterrents. Even if this were true, just because you haven’t had any robberies at your home since you installed an alarm system doesn’t mean you should disable it. At any rate, long voting lines and insufficient voting machines in areas populated by minorities would suggest otherwise. Jim Crow laws such as poll taxes and literacy test requirements are being replaced by calls for voter I.D. cards, registration restrictions and early voting cuts to discourage minority voting. Unfortunately disenfranchisement is alive and well and safeguards continue to be necessary in order to ensure that discriminatory laws are defeated before they are implemented, which is the sole purpose of the Voting Rights Act. So, yes Mr. Scalia, minorities do feel entitled to vote for one simple reason, they are entitled to vote.

Down The Up Staircase

So I fell up the staircase on the way in to work today. I don’t know if you’ve ever fallen up a flight of stairs before but it’s not an easily managed task and a lot more complicated than simply falling down. My morning had started out quite promising. I had one of those rare occasions where I finished my workout with time to spare and I knew I would be arriving to work a little early so I could use the extra time to grab a cup of coffee from Starbucks. I showered quickly and donned my favorite bright blue & gray pinstriped shirt, navy blue slacks and slipped into my freshly shined black lace up Kenneth Coles…your boy was looking sharp. To say I was in a good mood would belittle how I was actually feeling. I even engaged the barista (I’ve been dying to use that word) at Starbucks in conversation inquiring about the music playing which turned out to be something I already have in my collection, yep feeling good.

My morning drive is early enough so that I don’t normally run into traffic on the road and today was no exception. Thank God it didn’t rain as predicted because when it rains here in Southern California drivers lose their minds like it’s the coming of the apocalypse. So as anticipated I arrived at work with time to spare. I even sat for an extra minute to finish listening to Steve Harvey and his ridiculous rant with a caller arguing whether it was Carfax or Carfox as he insisted…its Carfax dumb ass. As I headed towards the office I had my coffee in one hand and the phone I had just placed on vibrate along with my keycard for access to the building in the other…my hands were full. Still feeling good I actually had a spring in my step, hell I may have even been whistling. I looked ahead and I could see a co-worker was holding the door open for me. Now you know how you take that little skip trot so that you can advance the stairs two at a time. Well I miscalculated the landing on the first step and down I went but I didn’t fall quickly, at least not in my mind. I swear I fell for what seemed like ten minutes.

As I began falling I could see the reaction on my co-worker’s face as he was still holding the door. You know that look, he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or feign concern…how about a little help buddy. I didn’t know if I should lunge for the door he was still holding or flip him off. Now when you start to plummet your natural instinct is to attempt to break your fall but of course as I said before my hands were full so when I reached out gravity took over and away went my coffee….all over the staircase. (Mental note to self, don’t f**K with gravity) I tried to regain my balance as I was already into the second step but I slipped in the coffee and continued my descent, this time flipping around backwards. As I plunged to what I assumed to be certain death as I was sure I’d break my neck or something else vital I began to think of things that had absolutely nothing to do with my falling. Did I remember to let Pepper back in after she went out to pee this morning? Was my boss’s car parked out front? Why doesn't McDonald's sell hotdogs? Finally after what seemed an eternity I hit bottom. Luckily I landed butt first but the remainder of my coffee spilled all over my shirt which instantly changed to blue & brown pinstriped.

As I regained my composure and attempted to collect what little dignity I still possessed I sheepishly took a look around to see who may have witnessed my extended over the top pre-workday tumble and found myself surrounded by co-workers…most of them snickering. When I stood up I received applause. What could I do, I took a bow and limped up the stairs to my office. Yep, feeling good.

Justin Carr Wants World Peace

This past weekend I attended the funeral of my aforementioned friend’s young son Justin. Let me first say that I’m not a funeral person. I would happily volunteer to have a grand piano dropped on my head to avoid one. I’d agree to be the person holding the board at a dart contest for blind people rather than attend a funeral. I’d prefer discussing LGBT politics and the theory of evolution with a born-again evangelical Republican creationist…ok you get the idea. I’m happy to say that unlike the usual drawn out, cry your eyes red, throw yourself on the casket screaming “take me, take me” typical dreary funeral affair it was a beautiful & joyous ceremony. A true celebration of the short but extremely eventful life of a young man taken much too soon. Justin was active in theater, sports, peer counseling, school and community clubs and organizations you name it and he did it. His list of accomplishments at 16 read like someone twice his age. The ceremony included participation from his fellow choir members and several people spoke, including his elementary school teacher, one of his high school teachers and both of his parents. All gave loving tributes and all left the crowd of an estimated 1,700 (seriously 1,700, the ceremony required traffic control) feeling as though they knew him intimately. But what touched me most was when his father spoke.

He shared several stories including the one of his son at five years old eagerly and joyfully embracing his first chance to bless the table for a family meal. His father said he meticulously took the time to bless every single person he had ever met which went on for some time and at the end he asked for World Peace…at five years old. At such a young age his world view already included the need for peace. What a weight to carry at such an age. At five years old I was more concerned about whether or not I would receive that little red wagon I requested of Santa for Christmas…I got it, something to be said for being nice and not naughty. His father stated that he always felt his son was destined for greatness and when he reflected on the occasion of this story he thought perhaps this was somehow to be his legacy. So he had a request for the funeral attendees. He asked that we aid in fulfilling Justin’s legacy by posting signs, sending emails and texts, contacting our legislatures or anything to get the word out with this simple statement, Justin Carr Wants World Peace. That’s it, no more, five simple words.

So what were his Father’s expectations? Did he think this would somehow change the world? Did he think if we all posted signs wars would cease to exists? No, I think what he saw was an opportunity to make a powerful statement which embraced the memory of his son. Now I’m not a big chain mail person, in fact when someone sends me one I usually delete it without opening…believe me when I say I don’t need to send your friggin’ email to everyone in my contact list to receive my blessings for the day. However, I felt just this one time I’d conform. To be clear I’m not even asking that you forward this, that’s your decision. Quite simply I just thought it to be a beautiful sentiment and a profound declaration from the mouth of a child and I just wanted to put it out there… Justin Carr Wants World Peace.

Gone Too Soon

Last Friday a very good friend of mine lost her 16 year-old son in an accidental drowning at his school, her only child. He was in practice for the high school swim team and although the response time from the school coaches and the arriving paramedics was quick he passed away shortly after reaching the hospital. Upon hearing the news her husband suffered a heart attack. Although he remains hospitalized he’s ok and is expected to be released soon.

I wanted to write something to express my feelings for my friend’s loss but I just sat and I stared at the screen. I wanted to write of this unexpected and shocking event which will forever change her life and those connected to her son. I wanted to write of how I kept waiting for the phone call to come that day saying there had been a tragic mistake and her son was ok. I wanted to write of young lives taken too soon and of the unexplained will of God. I wanted to write of the empathy I felt for my friend but in all honesty I have no idea what that is, as I can’t imagine having to bear the massive and sorrowful weight of such a loss. I can’t even begin to fathom the pressure she must feel within or the hurt she struggles with just to rise out of bed. I can’t conceive her aching as everything around her reminds her of her son and subsequently of her loss. Ultimately, I had no shared experience I could offer in order to console her.

I wanted her to know I’ve prayed for the pain she feels to subside. I wanted to tell her it will get better but I can’t imagine this to be true. I know that the pain she feels will probably last longer than any mother’s heart should be forced to bear. I wish I could find words to comfort my friend. I wish I could say all the right things to make the pain go away and I wish I could hold my dear old friend to let her know she’s not alone. I take comfort in knowing she has a strong family and they will aid in her struggle to continue. I wanted to write but my heart was too heavy and the words wouldn’t come….so I stared at the screen.

Burnin' Down The House

So after a weeklong manhunt during which the LAPD had heavy light skinned Black men on lockdown in their homes for fear of being accidentally shot, they finally caught up with and reportedly killed alleged cop killer and former LAPD member, Chris Dorner…I’m still confused why they didn’t just go pick him up from Staples Center when he hosted the Grammy Awards last Sunday night. Anyway it’s good to know that the citizens of L.A are for the time being safe from the LAPD. For the past seven days I didn’t venture out of my home unless absolutely necessary as I didn’t want to become the result of a tragic misinterpretation which is how L.A Police Chief Charlie Beck described the incident where two Latino women on their morning paper route were shot in their vehicle as police mistook their truck for Dorner’s. But you can’t blame the LAPD, I mean who knew there was more than one Nissan Titan truck matching the description of Dorner’s in Los Angeles and anyway why take the time to run the tags on a vehicle when you can just open fire. But it’s all good, they offered them a new car to replace the bullet riddled one they refashioned…negotiated settlement to follow.

No comment so far from the Torrance police chief after peace officers shot up a second not Dorner vehicle. This time they rammed and fired three shots into the pick-up truck of a LAX baggage handler who was heading to the beach for some early morning surfing. It was reported that the colors of neither he nor the truck he was driving matched those of the suspect…seriously, it was in the L.A. Times. So apparently it doesn’t matter what hue or gender you are…and dude may want to pick up an afternoon hobby. The police then posted a bulletin stating the public should beware of Dorner…probably some computer glitch, I’m sure they meant the out of control  trigger happy police officers. They later offered a million dollar reward for Dorner, apparently dead or alive it didn’t say, which prompted all conscientious and civil minded Anglo citizens for the entire Southern California region to report every African-American male they encountered…as a result quite a few malls and office buildings were temporarily closed down.

Now I want to preface the following by saying I do not condone the actions of Christopher Dorner and I feel for the family of his victims. One more time for the illiteracy squad, I DO NOT CONDONE HIS ACTIONS. However I can certainly empathize with his frustration and I have a few questions regarding his dismissal. Additionally, it’s obvious that there are still major issues going on in the ranks of the LAPD and not a lot has changed since the Rodney King beating. Why are the abusers of Rodney King now in supervisory roles? Why is it that if you accuse a fellow officer of excessive force and the review board doesn't believe your side, you get fired? How can you possibly have an effective system of reporting abuse when there's no reward if they believe you and your career is ruined if they don't? Why were they so nervous and adamant about killing him that they'd open fire on a vehicle without identifying the occupants? (ok quite a few questions) This ridiculous PR ruse of reopening his case after he’s gone and unable to speak for himself speaks volumes and in fact any new inquiry should be handled by State or Federal authorities. It certainly should not be left up to the LAPD to investigate themselves…yet again.

Of course the media is already rampant with stories portraying African-Americans as Dorner’s only supporters and comparing them to those of O.J. Simpson. This is a false narrative that only serves to incite more racism and further paints African-Americans as supporters of terrorism. You only have to read the comments on every single page that covers this story to see the nearly unanimous opinion that his actions are wrong yet understood in light of the corrupt actions of his LAPD superiors. Dorner's manifesto (which is 10 pages long and took quite some time to read) does talk about the legacy of racism that exists in LAPD, but his grievance is not about that. It's about the blue code of silence and administrative retribution which protects their corrupt institution and the shitty way they treat some people and destroy the lives of others who don't fall in line. It’s sad that Dorner felt so betrayed by his fellow officers and superiors that he would resort to the actions taken. He may have had greater affect by simply releasing his manifesto to the media and the general public…or at the minimum maybe sending out a few resumes, just thinking out loud.

Finally, there has to be an independent investigation into last week’s shameful and unfounded assaults on innocent citizens going about their daily business in the overzealous hunt for a suspected cop killer. Both bullet riddled trucks should be parked downtown in front of police headquarters as a constant reminder of the corruption of the LAPD. But we can rest in the comfort that at least for now the LAPD can go to sleep without their night lights on…and I can finally get some sun.

A Dose Of The Homos

So the guy (I refuse to type his name, it’s just too damn long) who’s accepting blame for this whole Manti Te’o made up girlfriend hoax, lie, fantasy or whatever they’re calling it today tells Dr. Phil he’s a recovering homosexual and that he impersonated the fake girlfriend to have some twisted version of intimacy over the phone in order to be closer to Te’o…because he’s like all in love with him and shit. So my question of course is just what the hell a recovering homosexual is and where’s the cure? Imagine telling a friend, “I caught the homos man but don’t worry, I got a shot and I’m on the road to recovery”, or “I had a bad case of the homos last summer, it all started after I saw that Idris Elba film.” WTF! What this guy really needs to recover from is his constant and complicated lies and delusions. Now he’s claiming he was molested as a child by a fellow Mormon Church member as if that explains his homosexuality…you know the homosexuality he’s totally recovering from. The sad part is this guy, whose father is a minister in the Mormon Church is simply afraid he’ll lose his relationship with the father, his friends and family if he comes out as gay. Instead because of his distorted religious teachings and societal indoctrination imposed on him he says stupid self-loathing things and pretends to believe in the cure.

Seriously, homosexuality has not been considered a mental illness and certainly not a disease for over 40 years, but there are opportunists out there who claim they can magically heal people who are not sick and fix people who are not broken. They call it Reparative Therapy. These so-called therapists mislead "patients", deliberately misrepresent science and dangerously play head games that can cause lasting mental scars. What they are doing is engaging in consumer fraud as they offer promises that they can't deliver while delivering disasters that they never promised. America's youth of which this guy is a typical example, deserve better than being pawns in a shameful effort to profit from the pain of hurting parents who are falsely led to believe that these quacks are genuine experts. The American Psychological Association, the American Medical Association and the American Academy of Pediatrics all reject this supposed therapy and agree that attempts to change a person’s sexual identity can lead to anxiety, dejection, and self-destructive behavior. Teens exposed to this “treatment” are more likely to experience severe depression, suicide attempts and drug use according to the Journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics.

I don’t know if this guy is in one of these programs but there are plenty of them out there. Most notably the clinic run by Michelle “Crazy Eyes” Bachman and her oh so obviously gay husband…I hope he’s not the poster boy for the clinic. By the way these are exactly the type of charitable organizations to which Chick-fil-A owner Dan Cathy donates. Honestly this whole reparative therapy scam has got to be stopped. The obvious and common sense question is has any heterosexual ever taught himself to become homosexual? Has the reverse situation ever occurred? We are inherently attracted to one gender or the other or perhaps to both genders. We do not sit down and choose A, B, or C, as if we are taking a multiple choice test. While no one has transformed from gay to straight, there have been too many people who have gone from whole to hurting or from alive to dead. Too many children are taught by these quacks to believe their genuine feelings are unreal or that they are somehow unclean and this therapy will cleanse them. The only disease this guy is suffering from is more commonly known as closititis and the cure is to simply come on out.

Slow News Day (Beyoncégate)

Well the question has been answered and America can breathe a sigh of relief. As the war persists in Afghanistan, civil unrest and religious conflict continue to plague the Middle East and the U.S. economy remains in need of resuscitation, yes folks the question has been answered, it’s true. Beyoncé pulled a Milli Vanilli while singing the national anthem at the presidential inauguration last week and the nation’s outraged. So has the press done anything to find out who is behind this travesty of a performance? Did President Obama know about this fraudulent presentation beforehand and is he a participant in the cover-up, or was he lied to as well. Was the White House sound technician part of the conspiracy? Did Beyoncé impose conditions on the United States Marine Band that backed her up? America demands the truth! Seriously, who gives a flying f*ck and why has so much press been devoted to this? With all the media fallout you would think she had been caught secretly shopping for outfits at Wal-Mart or something (although some of those House of Deréon so called fashions designed by her mother…just saying).

To be honest, those who watched expected and got a Beyoncé performance, which was all that was promised. It’s not like she did a lip synched performance to someone else’s vocals and tried to pass them off as her own (coughs Paula Abdul’s name). So why the outrage? New York Senator Chuck Schumer who organized and hosted the event says he is still waiting for an apology from Beyoncé, to which I have to ask, really senator? An apology? All references to hell freezing over aside I think the senator may be waiting a while, mainly because I don’t think she owes an apology to anyone. Her highness the Queen of Soul Aretha Franklin weighed (no pun intended) in saying "I thought it was really funny, but she did a beautiful job with the pre-record.” Ouch…talk about a back-handed compliment. She added that it never occurred to her to sing to a pre-recorded track when she performed at the 2008 inauguration ceremonies even though it was so cold her false teeth were chattering…and they were still in the glass. She added, "I wanted to give people the real thing and pre-recording never crossed my mind." Thanks for the shady support Ms. Franklin. To be honest I was so distracted by that damn hat I don’t know if Aretha was singing or not, I wasn’t listening. Hell she could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address for all I know. Jennifer Lopez never one to miss an opportunity to bask in the glow of others offered her support as well to which Beyoncé probably thought, “thanks but no thanks” because really when it comes to a question of singing, is this the person you want defending you.

The bottom line is it was her voice, not someone else's and despite what Hateretha and all the armchair critics had to say, it is quite understandable why someone may want to preserve their voice and not sing live in the cold windy weather. And ultimately, who cares. But let’s all forget President Obama’s stirring inaugural speech. Let’s ignore the significance of the fact that we had an African-American President inaugurated on the Martin Luther King, Jr. national holiday. Let’s instead focus on that which doesn’t matter. Let’s allow ourselves to be distracted from the coup going on in Virginia as redistricting threatens to eliminate a Democratic state senate seat or as Republicans attempt to break the system so that the will of the American electorate no longer matters. After all what’s more important.