What if Kanye was White (or, The Death of the Rock Star)

By on May 22, 2013

I often wonder about the state of rock music. It feels like it’s been a long time since a balls to the wall, honest to god, melt your fucking face off rock band took over radio airwaves the way a band like Nirvana once did. The rock bands who do make it to mainstream radio nowadays are so tempered, it’s hard to tell them apart from the pop acts. Ke$ha and Carlie Rae Jepsen have more of a bite than Gotye or fun., and One Direction’s guitar riffs pounce more aggressively than The Kings of Leon’s.

Who are the rock bands? What is rock music? And most importantly, where are the rock stars? You might as well be looking at their pictures on the back of a milk cartoon.

I have a theory though: the rock stars no longer make rock music. They’ve left it behind. Instead, we have Beyonce Knowles selling out stadium tours. That’s rock star shit. We’ve got a bad asses like M.I.A. and Azealia Banks starting and finishing fights with everyone who flinches in their direction. That’s rock star shit.

And we have Kanye. That’s that rock star life.

It’s not the music you make that make you a rock star. It’s the life you live. Why else do you think Jimi Hendrix, who is technically a one-hit wonder, is considered a rock star when Rivers Cuomo isn’t? No one on the green Earth lives a rock star life better than Kanye West. I’m not going to rattle off a list of his best moments, because you already know about them. The guy is larger than life and he contains multitudes. He’s got that egotistical attitude that white folks love in their favorites. John Lennon is considered a bad ass for once saying The Beatles were bigger than Jesus and for fighting against governmental systems of oppression, so why does Kanye West get shit on for naming his upcoming album Yeezus, or saying that George Bush doesn’t care about black people? Why is fucking Dave Grohl or Brandon Flowers considered for rock star status before Kanye?

We already know the answer to that question. But what if Kanye was white?

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Kanye isn’t considered a rock star because he doesn’t make rock music. Honestly, it’s not hard to argue against that. Kanye’s music is closer to rock music than most rock bands’. We’re talking about an artist who has toured with U2, headlined rock festivals, and collaborated with more rockers than any other hip-hop artist. These days, you’re more likely to hear Black Sabbath or Marilyn Manson sampled on a Kanye album than you are to hear Chaka Kahn or Black Sabbath. Change the delivery slightly and change his skin tone drastically and bam! What rock song that’s been on the radio the past few years rocks harder than “Hell of a Life” or the three minute “guitar” solo at the end of “Runaway?”

If Kanye were white, his music would already be considered rock music.

With pale skin, Yeezy’s perception by the mainstream media would instantly transform from egotistical jerk to bad ass overnight. His Taylor Swift stagebomb would no longer be a mean black drunk picking on a cute little girl. It would be the desperate plea of a frustrated artist speaking up against the industry on behalf of “real” music fans. Saying that George Bush doesn’t care about black people becomes a heroic fight against oppression on behalf of a marginalized class.

And then others would follow in his footsteps.

Kanye is, if nothing else, a trendsetter. We’d all still be listening to Chingy and K-Kwon if Kanye hadn’t come along and put the soul back in hip-hop. Without the deep freeze crooning of 808s and Heartbreak, there is no Drake, Kid Cudi, The Weeknd, or Frank Ocean. After My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy became the most critically acclaimed album of all time, everyone from Lana Del Rey to fun. to, ironically enough, Taylor Swift rushed out to hire its producer Jeff Bhasker to freshen up their sound. And every artist I just mentioned gets more respect from the mainstream press than Kanye West, even though without him, there is no them. Put him in white skin and give him blonde hair and that all changes.

It really is a useless exercise to imagine him white though. In whiteface, Kanye couldn’t be Kanye. Like he said on Dark Fantasy, a black Beatle is just a fucking roach. The fire on his new songs “Black Skinhead” and “New Slaves” comes directly from the frustration of being perhaps the greatest American musician in history, but being denied the recognition that should come with it. Kanye is a rock star, but since he doesn’t follow the guidelines of what a rock star should look like, he’s instead chastised for displaying the same behavior that would be praised in the fairer skinned race.

A rock star who is shit on for not following the rules? Only in white America.

The rock star is dead. Mainstream society refuses to allow itself to have rock stars unless those stars are paler than the moon. At this point, to be a rock star would have to mean having to submit to that establishment. Only those who attack the system can truly inherit the throne left by Axl Rose or Kurt Cobain.

Invariably, that person cannot be white. Because of that, that person would never be accepted as a rock star. That person is Kanye West.

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Fantastic Fandom: Superheroes, Film Casting, Racism, and You

By on May 19, 2013

A few weeks ago a rumor hit the web that Chronicle star Michael B. Jordan was the frontrunner to play Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, in Fox’s Fantastic 4 reboot. As I’ve come to expect, the internet went berserk and the racism began immediately – from cries of PC liberalism and it somehow being Obama’s fault to jokes about black men on fire that seemed more like the kind of things people would’ve said at a lynching than on the internet in 2013.

 As I’ve said, I’m not surprised by it. There is a pervasive idea that nerds – pale, flabby, basement dwelling, comic book collecting folk – are somehow immune from the isms that affect the rest of society. That somehow years of watching heavy-handed Star Trek and Twilight Zone episodes about social ills have put nerds intellectually above the rest of us and spared them the hobgoblins of little minds (except sexism, we all know that no one is more sexist than nerds, especially on the internet.)

Find any non-white nerd and they will be the first ones to tell you untrue this is.

The amount of abuse we take varies situationally. Sometimes it’s just having a racial slur added into descriptions of characters we’re cosplaying. Other times it’s having to listen to our fellow nerds whine about “diversity for the sake of diversity” when a character of color gets a spot in a comic book that one of their favorite white characters didn’t.

One of fandom’s favorite times to spew its racist vitriol is when the mere idea of racebending, changing the race of a comic book character in a film, is brought up.

Backlash against the idea of changing a white character’s race drew mainstream attention during the lead up to the release of 2011′s Thor, when the Council of Conservative Citizens, a white supremacist group, made televisions appearances calling for a boycott of the film due to its “insulting multi-cultural make-over,” and decrying the casting of Idris Elba, or as they referred to him in their press release, “DJ Elba,” as Heimdall. Oddly, I can’t find any statements by them decrying the casting of the Japanese Tadanobu Asano as Hogun, one of the Warriors Three.

While most comic book fans wouldn’t have lumped themselves in with white supremacists, many ultimately agreed with the assertion that casting a fictionalised god as non-white person was wrong.

Internet outcry at the idea of changing Spider-Man’s race became the topic du jour back in 2010 when a Twitter campaign was started to get Donald Glover an audition for the role of Peter Parker in The Amazing Spider-Man.

And the issue goes back further still.

There was fan outcry when Michael Clarke Duncan was cast as the Kingpin in Daredevil. There was fan outcry when the amazing Kerry Washington was cast as Alicia Masters in the Fantastic Four films.

And the arguments against the casting always begin the same “the character was white in the comics…”

Need I remind you that these are the same fans who financially supported comic books where all the heroes in the Marvel Universe became zombies and ones where Superman was Soviet overlord of the planet.

Comic books and its fandom are very much about the status-quo. Fans may lobby a complaint about a writer or an artist but ultimately, they want to keep reading about their favorite characters. And the troubling fact of the matter is, most of these characters are white because they were created at a time when social attitudes would’ve prevented a non-white hero from starring as lead in their own book. This makes it difficult for either of the big two companies to break new characters, andeven more difficult when these new characters aren’t white males.

Sometimes attempts are made to correct this. DC took drastic steps to diversify its line back in the first few years of the decade, but did so in the most divisive way possible. Fans wailed when they replaced several B and C string heroes with non-white counterparts: Captain Atom, The Atom, Blue Beetle, Firestorm and the Question were all replaced by characters of color to varying degrees of success.

More recently, Marvel killed off an alternate universe version of Peter Parker – not the “real” Peter Parker mind you, one who existed in a universe where Nick Fury was Black and the Wasp was Asian and the Hulk was a sexually deviant cannibal – and replaced him with the Afro-Latino Miles Morales, almost as recompense for the slights Donald Glover received.

The letters pages for the first issue starring Miles was filled with more bile and filth than I have ever seen published in a comic book not written by Garth Ennis.

Fans were notoriously upset when Dwayne McDuffie took a short run on JLA and was accused of “making it black” after he was editorially mandated to make the book more diverse and utilize the long dormant Milestone properties.

One of my first interactions with fandom racism was during the release of Robert Morales’ Captain America: The Truth – Red, White & Black. Fans derided the mere idea that a black man could have been Captain America before Steve Rogers, that somehow the notion damaged their favorite hero. The ultimate irony of this being that a story meant to address this country’s history of racist medical experimentation on black bodies only brought to the forefront more bigotry.

Film casting and the creation of new characters isn’t where the line is drawn for bigotry.

During the entire period Cartoon Network’s Justice League cartoon ran, from 2001-2004, fandom’s favorite topic of conversation was lamenting the inclusion of John Stewart as Green Lantern rather than Hal Jordan. Or Guy Gardner. Or Kyle Rayner. All white guys. Fans whined that he was “just there for diversity” and that a team which featured three aliens and an immortal Amazon didn’t need to be any more diverse. Never mind the fact that John Stewart was the only visibly non-white human on the team.

It’s hard to view these incidents as the actions of a vocal minority when you witness the same patterns repeated over and over. It’s hurtful, especially because it’s not as though us black comic book fans have concocted some fiendish plot to turn all your favorite characters black. None of us sit in those Hollywood boardrooms; if we did, they’d have already made a Black Panther or a Luke Cage movie. So to see all this vitriol aimed at your race because of some decision a bunch of white guys made is the height of irony.

It’s even worse when the cries of “well we should just make X character white” begin, as if the slight amount of representation we’re getting, representation we didn’t even ask for, is something we can only get via trade.

Because we don’t deserve to see ourselves without having to lose something for it.

Frankly, as it stands right now, I’m down to have the great Comic Book Racial Draft 2013. You can have Black Panther starring Robert Pattinson and Misty Knight starring Jennifer Lawrence if we get a Batman reboot starring Idris Elba and Wonder Woman with Kerry Washington.

We will also trade you Blade for The Flash. That’s fair, right?

What’s even more hurtful to witness than the outright racist jokes and comments is what happens when fans get on a pseudo-intellectual high-horse and attempt to explain exactly why these characters must be white.

Donald Glover lamented in an interview that he received an email in regards to the campaign to get him a Spider-Man audition that “…there are no black kids like Peter Parker.” Which infuriated him, and rightfully so, because “it’s fuckin’ 2011 and you don’t think there’s a black kid who lives with his aunt in Queens who likes science? And takes photography?”

And comments like these always appear in these discussions. Always. In comments relating to the Fantastic Four casting I saw many people arguing that a black man couldn’t be Johnny Storm because “Johnny Storm was a cocky playboy, a hot head and a ladies’ man.”

Which honestly kind of sounds a lot like Kanye West to me, but forgive me, I forgot that black men can only be brutish thugs, pimps and drug dealers.

There are people decrying the casting partially because the frontrunner to play Sue Storm, Allison Williams, is white, and the idea of a white woman with a black brother is just too damn confusing. The filmmakers have to think about the poor brains of everyone on the planet who might see this film and not understand how two people with different skin colors can be related. Never mind the fact that they will be playing characters who gain superpowers from exposure to cosmic rays.

Even worse are the people afraid that casting Johnny Storm as a black man might lead them to casting his sister as a black woman. And we all know Reed Richards, the smartest man in the Marvel Universe, couldn’t fall in love with a non-white woman…which is funny because I certainly don’t remember anyone complaining when the Latina Jessica Alba played Sue Storm.

And there is a fan right now reading these words and already typing his response about how that’s not what he’s saying and not what anyone has been saying and how it’s about protecting the integrity of the mythos blah blah blah.

But it is what you’re saying.

What you’re saying is that non-white people can’t be cocky, nerdy, attractive or happy.

What you’re saying is that we don’t exist with the same fullness of being that white people do so there’s no way we could play those characters.

What you’re really doing is attempting to justify why we shouldn’t exist at all, because we are not like you.

And you know what, I’m a big boy, I really am, for the most part I’ve divorced myself from comic fandom. I usually go out of my way to not see any of this nonsense, but it sucks when it starts bleeding into the comics I’m reading.The same attitudes that are so pervasive in comic book fandom are probably much more common in the halls where the cape books are put together than any us would want to admit.

Sometimes when I take a step back and look at these books that I enjoyed as a child and still enjoy, as best I can, I realize that I rarely see a face that looks like mine. That these things I love so much possess a fandom and are being put out by an industry that’s easily as toxic as the rest of society and I ask myself why. Why even bother? Why do any of us even bother?

And I tell myself it’s because these characters mean something more, that they represent more than what the worst of the people who fuel their existence creatively and economically are so keen to put out into the ether.

I tell myself that if Johnny, Sue and the rest of the Fantastic Four could leap from the pages they’d give all their racist fans such a talking to, that they’d make them understand why they were wrong and that they needed to change their ways. But they aren’t real and they can’t do that.

And the sad thing is, no matter what I write about this subject, I know I can’t either.

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Three Ways to Fight Racism Online Without Losing Your Soul

By on May 18, 2013

african-american-woman-stress

I recently suffered a mental breakdown mostly due to blogging about anti-racism online. Here are some tips to assure that you don’t do the same.

1. Sit it out sometimes

There’s a sect of black bloggers who will forever be on the lookout for other black bloggers to excommunicate. They do this because it gives them a feeling of ownership and authority over the black anti-racist community. It seems as if every time they go after one of their own, their clout and influence gets a little stronger. I felt that pressure. After every mass call-out, it seemed like there was a roll call taken and anyone who wasn’t showing out with the group is assumed to have been on the side of the racists.

“And remember that time sixteen weeks ago when that white guy said Beyonce was overrated? Where was you then, nigga?”

I felt like I had to be involved in every little thing that went down, no matter how slight the beef was or how little it had to do with me. I felt that if I wasn’t visibly and vocally on board with every battle against the most-digusting-racist-I’ve-ever-encountered of the week, then I wasn’t doing all I could do to fight against racism.

No one is capable of maintaining that level of engagement though. That’s why you need to know that it’s okay to sit out once in awhile, or twice in awhile, or however often you want. There was a time when I felt as if no matter how depressed or anxious I was, I had to willingly expose myself to the voices of the white supremacists and neo-nazis, not because I was in the mood to humor them, but because I didn’t want anyone to ever be able to say Dion wasn’t there fighting. It’s easy to forget that the anti-racist community exists for the sake of people of color, not for the sake of the community itself.

These days, I sit out a lot, and by that I mean almost 100% of the time. That’s not to say I don’t write about racism, but I don’t engage anyone in debates on my humanity. I’ve realized there’s no benefit in it for me. That kind of thing has a place, but not everyone is cut out for it. That doesn’t make them any better or any worse: just different.

2. Get a hobby

I should probably be more specific with this one, because getting a new hobby when you’re an anti-racist blogger is bit like being lactose intolerant and trying to pick a new flavor of ice cream to try. Racism is so perverse in its width that trying to find something that you can enjoy that doesn’t occasionally remind you that there’s an entire white supremacist power structure out there that dehumanizes you everyday is a challenge. That’s why your hobby needs to be something simple, maybe even private. For me, that was Madden 2012. At the start of my breakdown, I was playing Madden for at least three hours a day. On that little pixelized field with that repetitive commentary team, there is no racism. There’s just a computerized opponent a bunch of buttons to press.

If you decide you want a community-based hobby, such as a fandom, try to come back to one that you loved before you were an anti-racist blogger, one where the nostalgia is so strong that while you can’t possibly ignore the racism you might find there, you can still enjoy the product without it bumming you out too much. Head back to your childhood and find that thing that you could never possibly hate, the thing you love enough to criticize it in the midst of your obsession with it. I found professional wrestling. Other bloggers I know do the same thing with comic books or cartoons. Whatever you choose, finding the hobby is essential. You will need a place where your mind can escape things. You don’t want your main source of stimulation to be arguing with people over whether or not you deserve human rights. That shit will get to your head, inviting all sorts of depression.

3. Don’t take it personally

This one is the probably the hardest one to accomplish. I’m not saying that you should not take racism as a personal assault against you, because that’s not possible. When someone attacks your culture and your skin color, they might as well be attacking your face and your voice, because we are our communities and our families and our influences.

No, when I say don’t take it personally, I mean don’t the entire weight of everything on your shoulders alone. My voice in the realm of anti-racist bloggers became an increasingly loud one.  I kept shouting and the volume kept growing, and the louder it got, the louder I thought I had to scream. The thing about screaming though, is that eventually you’ll run out of breath, and that’s the best metaphor I can give you in regards to my mental health over the last few months.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my voice only got louder because it was being echoed by an entire community. I took my role as a personal one, and I forgot that I was a gear in a machine fighting to end white supremacy and anti-blackness. It’s important to remember that no matter how loud your voice gets, you can always sit back and whisper for a little while and let others take up the mantel. Anti-racism is a battle that has been waged for centuries now, and it’s silly for one person to try and take that on. We have a community for a reason. Be a part of it.

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The First Amendment Doesn’t Oblige You to Have Racists over for Dinner

By on October 20, 2012

Reddit. It’s a website about links, self posts, upvotes and downvotes. One of the most visited websites on the internet. It features pictures of cats, forced memes, funny gifs and AMAs from the president. Its demographics are heavily white and male and feel even whiter and more male than they actually are. The website’s managers and its most loyal users are wedded to a vison of free speech that rejects the idea of censoring even the most genocidal of racist speech.

What they’ve got wrong is that there isn’t a free speech issue here. Free speech is about not being prosecuted by your government for expressing your views. A private company is not obliged to give platforms to racists in the name of free speech. If a private company willingly gives a platform to racists, then they should be prepared to have their reputation suffer accordingly. No-one would be denying the racists of Reddit their constitutional rights to free speech by banning them from the website. Just like you couldn’t go running to the Supreme Court if you were ejected from a houseparty for being racist.

So let’s imagine Reddit is indeed a giant houseparty taking place in a great sprawling mansion and see what a tour feels like, All the examples that follow are from real, heavily-upvoted Reddit Racism.

You arrive at the Reddit party. Food, drink and conversation flow and everyone seems really friendly and almost awkwardly polite. As you walk through the many rooms everyone seems to be having a good time, seems like a pretty great place. You join in a conversation: people are discussing an airline, one that has put in place a policy of not allowing unaccompanied minors to be seated next to adult males. The general opinion in the group is that this is ridiculous: How likely is it for a child to be placed next to some predator? Then one of the group says:

“Statistically its probably less safe for them to sit next to blacks as well.”

Your eyes bulge. Everyone bursts out laughing.

Someone adds: “That’s why they should be moved to the back of the plane!” More laughter. You reel with the shock, and back away.

Shaken from the encounter you decide to go round the party to listen in to some more conversations. And you start to notice a pattern: polite, friendly conversation, corny jokes. And never a missed opportunity to say something racist. Most of the time the racism goes unchallenged, is laughed at, is agreed to, is celebrated and is the spark to whole new threads of racist conversation.

“I asked my dad if he was racist” you hear said, “he told me he doesn’t hate black people, just niggers”

A whole group of people are agreeing that black people don’t tip. “Fucking truth. Here in Detroit, even the black waiters and waitresses don’t want to serve black people because they know they don’t tip.”

You hear the same “joke” about ten times: “I’m not racist. Racism is a crime, and crime is for black people”

More and more of it, you think you’re going crazy.

“It’s a shame that so many black people chalk up using proper English as acting white.”

“Feces are people, my friend…”, “Well, 3/5 of a person…”

Someone gathers a crowd, hushes them down and reads their haiku on the subject of slavery, to rapturous applause:

“Lord, let me be free

How am I supposed to pimp

With a sugar cane?”

You run upstairs to try to find a quiet place to gather your thoughts. Instead you find a great room decked out like a church dedicated to the genocidal hatred of black people. On the walls are ridiculous caricatures of black people, with greatly oversized lips, eating fried chicken and watermelon. There’s a group in discussion, and the topic up for debate is “Why don’t we pay black women to have abortions?”.

“I have to find the host of this party” you think. “Have to tell him what’s going on here”.

When you find him, you tell him about the weird cult gathered to preach the hatred, exclusion and elimination of black people, here in his house. He seems unconcerned at the news.

“Yeah, we don’t get in involved unless it has something to do with rules,” He says.

“Rules? Surely they’re breaking the rules. What are the rules?”

“Here”

“No child porn and no sharing of personal information? That’s it?”

“That’s it. We’re a place of free speech, and It’s not in our interest to make moral judgements.”

I leave you to make your own moral judgements on Reddit.

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The Struggle is Real: Recognizing Authors of Color in Academia

By on October 17, 2012

Cornel_West

As an English major, I’ve never expected much when it comes to classes focused on the most notable literary contributions to society. I’ve sat through classes featuring dead white men upon dead white men, wondering why a PoC was so rarely between the pages. This semester, I thought my prayers had finally been answered. The course I enrolled in would be focusing on American Autobiography with a clear section devoted solely to African-American autobiography. Oh, happy days!

It wasn’t until we started having class discussions about African-American autobiography that I’d realized I’d been praying to Satan. I’d gotten what I’d wanted, but in a way that was so mind boggling and distorted I wanted to close my textbook and leave on a regular basis. What could possibly be so terrible about studying African-American autobiography? What could be so wrong with analyzing Washington, Du Bois, and Douglass alongside the likes of Franklin, Thoreau and Whitman?

Literary colorblindness. Literary colorblindness is best described as evaluating someone’s writings based solely on their words, meaning you may not fully consider the author’s race as the backdrop. Sounds awesome, right? Sounds like a good old fashioned we-are-the-world type throwback?

Wrong.
Dead. Wrong.

Case in point, we began studying W.E.B. Du Bois’ works and his life as an African-American in the 19th century. We discussed a story of his life wherein as a black professor in Atlanta he’d heard about an upcoming lynching. He decided to write a letter against it, and had plans to deliver it soon. When he’d finally gotten ready to deliver said letter, he came into town to find the man already lynched and his fingers and toes being displayed casually at a market nearby. He kept the letter to himself, and walked home.

When the question of how we viewed that story was brought to the class as a discussion question, the girl sitting right next to me chimed in that “W.E.B. Du Bois always ran away from his problems”. She went on to say that he also may have had an “anger issue” that he’d never dealt with and that he could’ve tried to stop the lynching. I distinctly remember my eyes widening and the fire I was about to breathe welling up in my lungs as I looked over at the professor. I waited for him to explain something, anything that would make up for the nonsense that’d just been said. Instead, he looked right at her and nodded. He agreed that W.E.B. Du Bois had an issue with running away from problems and the girl started to compare W.EB. Du Bois to Benjamin Franklin and made sure to remind everyone that Franklin often stood up for what he believed in.

Why wouldn’t a black man in the 19th century be interested in talking to an angry mob of white people about the problem with lynching in the Deep South? Why would a wealthy white man (pick any century you want to) have no problem expressing his opinions among other wealthy white men? These are the questions that never came up during the discussion, as I sat there, bewildered. I realized that the discussion was purely about the actions of Du Bois as compared to other writers, but without the emphasis on his being a PoC. It was borderline cringe worthy to hear synonyms for “coward” thrown around when speaking about an objectively courageous man for his time.
After class and after discussions with other PoC about this strange phenomenon in academia, I came to find out this wasn’t an isolated incident. PoC were having their color erased but still being discussed as authors on par with the dead white men. By putting PoC in literary “whiteface” they’d become just as worthy to discuss (just don’t mention that they weren’t white, please). This not only explicitly invalidates the meaning behind a lot of PoC work, it successfully makes it impossible to talk about racial issues that prevented PoC voices to exist in the golden ages of American literature. Douglass might as well be Thoreau. Unfortunately, I believe that the “equality” of literature between dead white men and PoC is meant to be a pseudo-compliment. Except that PoC were never on par with dead white men, and were often writing in the opposition of such literary predecessors. If PoC are brought into the discussion to only talk about the surface of discrimination they wrote about and not about why they were writing such stories in the first place, major points of PoC literature can and will be missed.

As far as college goes, I guess I can say I’m partly happy my prayers were answered. At least PoC are making it into literary canon to be studied alongside the dead white men. Even if their words are being misinterpreted, some new voices are finally being heard. Now, if only we could translate their words back into color…

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Should Obama Lose His Cool?

By on October 5, 2012

On Tuesday night, the President of the United States faced off against Mitt Romney in the first of three nationally televised debates. To set the scene, Barack Obama is without a doubt one of the best speakers of our generation. Whether it was at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, his acceptance speech as President-elect Chicago in 2008, or his announcement of the death of Osama Bin Laden in the middle of an episode of Celebrity Apprentice, the man has a way with words. Mitt Romney, on the other hand, seems to like the taste of his own foot, as he recently went on an international Piss Off The World Tour that saw him constantly making verbal blunders and getting slammed in the press both here and abroad. To say I was expecting an easy win for Obama is an understatement. It seemed as easily predictable as the end of a movie starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt and any doe-eyed brunette who likes indie music and vintage clothing.

But unlike Regular Joe, Barack Obama didn’t have a happy ending.

Mitt Romney came out swinging from the get go. He was very aggressive and flighty, constantly attacking Obama on any and every front while hyperactively avoiding any association with the GOP platform or even the former governor’s own public voting record. Romney has ran on a platform of cutting taxes. I’m 90% sure he has a flatbrim cap somewhere on his campaign tour bus with stitched white lettering reading “Imma Cut Dem Taxes.” When confronted about this by Barack Obama, Mitt Romney simply denied it. It seemed like something out of the opening verse of a Shaggy song.

“Hey, Shaggy.”

“Yeah, Mitt.”

“Barack Obama caught me.”

“Caught you?”

“Caught me cuttin’ taxes.”

“With who?”

“The banking industry next door. What should I do man?”

“Just say it wasn’t you.”

“Alriiiiiiight.”

Obscure R&B references aside, I can hardly even get mad at ol’ Mittens for this one. It was a dumb tactic, probably one he never thought would work. Keep in mind, in this same debate he also threatened to fire the moderator of the debate and compared Barack Obama to one of his teenage sons. These almost seem like the blunders of a campaign who is purposely trying to toss the election. The conspiracy theorist in me suspects that they’d like to get Paul Ryan off this sinking ship so they can save him for the 2016 election. If Obama had held Romney’s feet to the fire on any of his campaign statements, his party’s goals, or even the stuff Romney was saying in that very debate, the President would’ve won handily.

But he didn’t.

One thing that attracts voters to Barack Obama is his unyielding coolness. He always stays calm and collected in the center of the political circus. In 2007 and 2008 when both Democrats and Republicans were attacking him with lies about his birth certificate and his religion, Obama never slung mud back, instead insisting that we should all calm down, be adults, and stop letting petty politics distract us. It was so refreshing for a young voter like myself. In the craze of the final years of Czar Bush, Barack Obama was a soothing voice in the Washington chorus.

Times have changed though.

The Republicans have spent four years re-writing their disastrous eight years in power as the fault of the current President. We’ve heard all the metaphors before, but it’s still true: Barack Obama inherited an absolute mess from his predecessor, and by all quantifiable accounts, he is doing a fine job of cleaning it up. However, facts don’t mean nearly as much as feeling, and the GOP have been hard at work making people feel like their problems are the fault of the President. Struggling families are angry at the only person who has an interest in helping them. The time for playing it cool is over. Obama needs to defend himself, his administration, and his actions.

On Tuesday night, if Obama had attacked Romney once for his statements, if Obama had passionately defended himself just a little bit in the face of Romney’s outright lies, I’m convinced he would’ve won. Imagine the devastation to Romney’s campaign if after comparing the President to one of his sons, Obama had said something along the lines of: “I am not your child, Governor Romney.” Something as simple as that could’ve sunk Romney’s campaign in just a few words. He could have won this debate.

Instead, the President kept it cool.

Instead, the President lost.

I don’t want the election to go down the same way. I don’t want to have to say, “Well, Obama could’ve won it if he had just been more aggressive.” If Barack Obama has to go down, I want to see him go down fighting. Just like in the debt ceiling negotiations, Obama’s cool is allowing the GOP to define the terms, pace, and conditions of the discussion regarding who is better suited to lead this country for the next four years. I don’t want a President who will keep it cool while I’m being kicked in the face with student loan debt, rising housing costs, and poor health insurance. I elected Barack Obama to fight for me, and I’m looking forward to the day when he does.

For the sake of all of us, I’m hoping Barack Obama loses his cool and loses it soon.

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I’m Over You, Mindy Kaling

By on September 1, 2012

Spoiler alert for TMP’s pilot episode.

I’m no television buff, but I’ll suffer a few boob-less hours in front of the “boob tube” if it’s worth it. I’m no huge fan of Fox either, so tracking down “The Office” veteran and supposed comedienne Mindy Kaling’s new project–interestingly titled “The Mindy Project”– was something of a small feat for me. Until my first viewing of the pilot, I hadn’t paid much attention to Mindy Kaling, outside of the fact that I knew she was wasting her (and my) time on The Office. Aside from a few quotes floating about on Tumblr and some admittedly funny out-of-context photosets, I hadn’t been truly exposed to the talent everyone seemed to gush about. When Fox announced her new show and “dropped” the pilot early, I decided to dive in.

And I swear to God, I was ready for Mindy Kaling. I was ready to go hard in the paint for another cute, forward woman of color; it is, after all, my specialty.

I was not ready for a shitshow of haggard jokes and regurgitated Tina Fey quirkiness–but now I can say that I’m truly, truly over Mindy Kaling…for now.

A little background: “The Mindy Project” follows titular character Mindy Lahiri, a Bridget Jones-esque character with a booming career as a doctor and the saddest love life on the down-lo. Her love life is so sad that it consumes her entire show. She’s clumsy, awkward and perpetually unsure of her male interests; she runs off at the mouth, constantly embarrasses herself, takes cues from the romantic comedies she is obsessed with–but do I seriously need to go on? Right off the bat, the show’s premise seems to be another dump in the long line of toilet-worthy romantic comedy tropes. With lines and giggles and smiles that I have only seen on the white heroines of these types of movies, Mindy tends to fall flat.

I have to admit: I initially wasn’t bothered with the idea of watching Mindy Kaling struggle through her relationships. Curious, maybe–but not bothered. After all, relationships are tough–and the added component of watching a woman of color flounder her way through love and lust like we all do (with just a tad more comedy) was alluring enough for me to give it a chance. Of course, I wasn’t expecting any deep discourse or any rallying cries for women of color exclusively; the most I could just hope for was for Kaling to be…well, funny.

So I waited. And I waited. And I waited.

The Mindy Project reads like a mishmash of the shit Hollywood expects from female writers nowadays. Now that Bridesmaids has finally opened the floodgates for poop jokes and “forever alone” storylines, it’s been really hard to get certain things across to female writers and the producers who support them. I’m really over the concept of the awkward, fucked-out-of-love main female character; you know, the woman who runs into more cringe-worthy (but really ’funny’) hardships than she does love interests. Sprinkled throughout Bridesmaids was the idea that women could be strangesf and silly and shit in the middle of the street; that abnormality was the new normality and Kristen Wiig too has a had a day just like yours. I’m not particularly wary of the need to connect with female audiences or the need to ensure again and again that women can too be fucked up and funny. I’m just wary of the fact that we keep forgetting to write something else.

In the pilot episode, Mindy Lahiri gets drunk at her ex’s wedding, tells embarrassing stories about him, insults his new wife and crashes out of the party and into a pool. She gets strangely specific advice from a long-sunken Barbie doll (“get your shit together or no one’s ever going to love you”) and cries underwater when even the doll admits to having a boyfriend. Everything revolves around her also sunken love life. She has the hardest time realizing that she’s not part of a romantic comedy. She spends half her time trying to decipher the code to her unpopularity with men and the other half insisting she’s dateable.

She somehow manages to fit in being a doctor between her hilarious strings of fuck-ups, but it’s hard to buy completely; in fact, it’s a little confusing. I just spent all this time being convinced that Lahiri is incompetent, awkward and even a little immature–but apparently she’s competent enough and not too self-absorbed to dart between taxis barefoot to deliver a patient she had already  totally forgotten about while being drunk and breaking and entering into her ex’s home. Alright. Okay.

This isn’t even half of the episode, to be honest. To be even more honest, I didn’t finish the episode.

Yeah, I totally hear you; maybe it is douchey to critique an episode you didn’t even finish. It’s also douchey to sell the same tired concepts and ideas under the guise of a new project and expect me to sit through it. You know, even now I don’t doubt that Mindy Kaling has talent. Maybe it’s because I’m an optimist, or because I really understand the way the television industry works. Do I blame Mindy Kaling exclusively for giving me the same kind of boring I’m-so-great-what’s-wrong-with-me bullshit that usually helps Tina Fey stick out of a line up? Nah, not really. But just because the blame does not rest solely upon her shoulders does not mean that it can’t be spread around. In the same way Mindy Kaling shares in the failure of this pilot, she shares in my disappointment.

Female characters and femininity in television has been changing for sure; a few decades ago a character like Mindy Lahiri would be unimaginable. A woman who doesn’t have it altogether? A woman who flirts kind of desperately and gossips kind of easily and self-depreciates as quickly as she breathes? Unthinkable, perfectly ludicrous. For all my bitching and moaning, Lahiri as a character is still worthy of a thumbs-up.

Even as I groan my way through her pilot, I have to admit that it’s refreshing to know that Lahiri is only a few degrees away from us in some areas. It’s just that I’m not interested. I don’t want to see Mindy face plant every five seconds. I don’t want to be convinced of her normalcy, how she’s just like every other woman out there–weird and nervous and awkward. I’m tired of the idea that women are perpetually fucked up being used as the source of comedy. The self-depreciating era of humor, while original in its genesis and revolutionary in its application to the lives and minds of female characters, died a particularly invigorating death ages ago. The Mindy Project is beating the shit out of a dead horse.

It’s not only just that; I’m also just not used to stuff like this. I’m not accustomed to a woman of color having to resort to the same kind of tactics that romantic comedies use to put asses into seats. I’m definitely not used to the idea of having to grapple with supporting a woman of color who could’ve done so much but put very little on the table. Some part of me wants to blindly go forth in the name of  solidarity, but the other, more sensible parts of me just can’t swallow the bullshit.

Thus, I’m still on the hunt for the perfect show of support.  The obvious choice would be to recommend it to friends and family, but I’m only good at bullshitting about my own fuck-ups, not anyone else’s. Could I really enthusiastically submit people to Mindy Kaling’s various attempts at having Kristen Wiig and Liz Lemon’s love child? Do I really want to have to answer to why someone so good could create something so horrendously bad? Is it honestly that serious?

The answer is no. It’s also “maybe,” but only because I still feel that I can, someday, stir up something in my heart for this show that isn’t annoyance. I’m not banking on this though, and neither should you.

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You Tried It: Lupe Fiasco Edition

By on August 30, 2012

You know when people just try shit?

Yeah, you do–you just thought of someone who has. I’m no professional, but plenty of experience and contact with People Who Try Shit has convinced me that there are certain class of people put on this Earth to consistently work your last goddamn nerve. I pegged Lupe Fiasco as one of those people months ago.

Trust me when I say that things have not always been this way. A year ago, it would’ve been really hard for me to accuse Lupe Fiasco of Trying Shit. Even now I’m totally aware that little white suburban kid who scoffs openly at the idea of Kanye West is probably somewhere disagreeing with me, and that’s fine. I can agree that sometimes Lupe Fiasco does not come off immediately as a Person Who Tries Shit, which automatically means that he is indeed Trying Shit all the time.

I’ve been watching Fiasco’s slow descent into the ever tricky “educated nigga” trope and the fall has been a slippery one. You’ve heard of the educated nigga–the kind of dude who would rock dashikis if he could find one, who preaches about empowering the black community but still uses the same tired ideas about black people in order to build a connection. The kind of dude who forgets that a nigga isn’t concrete or a particular mindset. You know, the kind of dude who spews the same kind of shit he claims to fight and tells you he’ sjust “being  real.” Case in point: “Bitch Bad,” Lupe’s newest foray into the kind of “let-me-show-you-how-to-feel” shit that gets niggas like him in trouble.

Do not confuse my criticism with derision: even though I’m not all about Lupe’s approach, I’m about his goal. There’s never really a bad time to talk about misogyny, black women and hip-hop: I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. These are important conversations to have! But if the majority of your conversations are reduced to finger pointing and shaming, then I have to call a party foul, take a seat in the corner.

Educated niggas like Lupe Fiasco forget a lot of things. They forget that women are people, that kids can understand context and that the Internet is not the bastillion of parenting. The idea that young black males learn how to live, eat and shit from their mothers? Over it. The idea that young black girls emulate the booty-quaking styles of video vixens? Double over it. The subliminal messaging to parents that long for the old school style of parenting where parents were all up in your shit? Bleh. The overt, hard-to-miss finger shaking at black women for failing at everything in life? Dude.

I don’t doubt that Fiasco was looking for a conversation; I’m just aware that he ended up at the wrong one. His goals were admirable: it’s not often that we talk about black women’s relationship with the misogyny found in hip-hop and rap. When we do, it’s unfortunately washed in similar tones: with a lack of understanding about black women and a misconception of how relationships to music work. Do I doubt that there’s a black girl out there confusing her femininity with the famed “bad bitch?” No, but I also know that this is not the swarming epidemic that Fiasco is making it out to be. I also know that if educated niggas like Fiasco spent less time on the outside looking in (and writing raps about what they say) and, you know, actually sat down with a real live black girl or once in a while, we could start crafting conversations that were aware, empathetic and didn’t make me barf in my mouth.

What does “Bitch Bad” do but not open up yet another conversation in which the black woman is considered at fault for the failure of those around her or that of herself? I’m tired of having to wade through the conversations of grown ass men who should know better.  I’m tired of black misogyny being disguised as some kind of teaching point. I’m tired of the black woman being the base of all that is good or holy in the black family. That’s just now how shit works.

Mostly I’m just tired of educated niggas like Lupe Fiasco who waste their intelligence on tired-ass songs like these. Come sit by me, dude, and a learn a little something.

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The Free License Movement Call-In Campaign

By on August 22, 2012

Georgia, Indiana, Kansas, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, and Tennessee: these are the states perpetuating the greatest civil rights violation of our time, and no, I’m not talking about Chick-Fil-A. In those states, with possibly South Carolina and Texas joining them, voters this November will be turned away from the polls if they’re unable to produce a valid driver’s license or other form of state ID. Republicans claim the new laws have something to do with voter fraud, a crime more rare than a shiny Chansey. Some observant members of the blogosphere (aka, anyone with eyes and common sense) have suggested that the laws have a more heinous intent: blocking poor people, many of whom are black and Latin@, from casting their votes. These groups overwhelmingly vote for Democrats in Presidential elections, with one figure recently citing Mitt Romney polling with a whopping 0% of the black vote. Of course, there’s a margin of error of like 2-3%, but it’s safe to say that roughly zero black people in America not named “Uncle something” are planning to vote for Mitt Romney.

Let’s call these laws what they are. They’re a poll tax. Poll taxes have been outlawed in the United States for decades, as their only purpose is to discourage poor people from voting. Just because you move the tax from the polling location to the DMV, doesn’t mean it somehow becomes legal. As long as licenses cost money, and as long as you need a license to vote, you’re preventing people with less money from participating in the basic function of a Democracy. It’s classist. It’s racist. It’s disgusting.

I think we can balance it out though. We just have to appeal to the most efficient and understanding organization in the government: state departments of motor vehicles. Who’s more flexible and helpful than your local DMV? Sure, if you need to get a new license or register a vehicle, the DMV is happy to not assist you in any way at all, but what I’m suggesting would actually appeal to their employees’ sense of patriotism, general dissent, and unrelenting laziness. From now until November, all drivers licenses should be free.

Now, before you misunderstand me, I don’t mean that anyone should just be able to waltz down to a DMV and get a license just by asking nicely. No, you should still have to take the test and do your parallel parking, three point turns, and whatever else you have to do these days to legally get behind the wheel of a car. I’m just saying that at the end of that, you shouldn’t have to pay a dime to get your license. This isn’t socialism either. It’s just a way to make sure everyone who can vote will be able to. The pretend voter fraud will still be eliminated and poor people will still be able to elect Barack Obama to his second term as President of the United States. Everyone’s happy, except for Mitt Romney and his little brother Paul Ryan.

We need to contact state DMV’s and state officials and let them know that this program isn’t really optional. Again, poll taxes are illegal, so until drivers licenses are free in these states, these voter ID laws are unconstitutional. Make no doubt about it, as of right now, it technically illegal to have to pay for a driver’s license in Georgia, Indian, Kansas, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, or Tennessee, so call them up and let them know. Seriously. Flood their offices with calls. If there’s one thing DMV workers love, it’s talking on the phone, but they’re bashful sometimes, so if they pretend like they don’t want to talk, just call them again until you get through.

  • Georgia Department of Driver Services - (404) 657-9300
  • Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles – (888) 692-6841
  • Kansas Division of Motor Vehicles – (785) 296-3963
  • Mississippi Department of Driver Services – Email LWilson@dps.ms.gov and ask them for their phone number.
  • Pennsylvania Department of Transportation Driver and Vehicle Services - 1-800-932-4600
  • Tennessee Department of Driver Services - (615) 253-5221

Together, we can reverse this discriminatory law, and irritate the piss out of a bunch of salty DMV workers. It’s a win win. It’s the American Dream.

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Creator of TV Show ‘Girls’ Defends All White Cast By Claiming She Knows No Black People

By on August 19, 2012

Lena Dunham, creator of the celebrated HBO series “Girls,” addressed critics of her show’s all white cast today by stating that she has no personal relationships with any black people, and thus cannot possibly create a character that is anything but white.

Although her show takes place in New York City, arguably the most ethnically diverse place on Earth, the world of “Girls” revolves around four white women. The only people of color who appear on screen are homeless, taxi drivers, and/or drug dealers. Despite the controversy, Dunham has never seriously addressed the lack of diversity in her show in previous interviews. In fact, the NPR interview conducted today marks the first time she has talked about the issue without openly laughing at the question before saying “whatever.”

“Writers are supposed to write what they know,” Dunham told a reporter. “I don’t know any black people, so how do I write about them? I’m not sure how they think. I’m not sure what they feel. I’m not even sure they exist. Is there any conclusive evidence that people can really be black? I don’t see color, so I honestly don’t know.”

Many members of the black community who enjoy the antics of the “Girls” girls are displeased that the creator of the show not only included no non-white cast members, but consistently resorted to tired stereotypes when the characters are forced to interact with people of color.

“The show is hilarious. Don’t get me wrong,” said avid fan and black woman Keisha Jones. “But the only black person I’ve ever seen on screen during “Girls” was a crack-addicted stripper who was giving birth on a basketball court as the girls were walking to Starbucks. It was a little much.”

Those who know Dunham confirm that she is, in actuality, completely surrounded by nothing but white people at all times and becomes visibly distressed whenever a minority is present. According to those in her inner circle, the exclusion isn’t racism at this point, but an active effort to stay immersed in the all-white reality of “Girls” so she can continue to develop her characters accurately.

“She wants to preserve her integrity as a writer,” says close friend Diane Sherman. “She can’t start hanging out with coloreds now. It would ruin her vision. She needs inspiration for quality television. With every black or brown person Lena includes, the show takes a step away from being a fresh take on young adulthood and a step towards ‘Meet the Browns’ and nobody wants that to happen.”

“I don’t really understand the controversy,” said Dunham. “It’s ‘Girls,’ not ‘Homegirls.’ Even though all the characters are white women from wealthy backgrounds living in New York, this represents the typical girl experience as far as I can tell. The show’s accessible to everyone that matters.”

At the conclusion of the interview, after more pressing and a brief explanation of what a black person looks like, Dunham stated that these issues will be “addressed” in the next season of “Girls,” giving fans of all colors something to look forward to.

“You know, maybe I could think of a black character or a handicapped character or something. I did ask a black guy if I could borrow his pencil once in college. Well, I thought about it, but then I got too scared.”

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