If you've read this blog over the years you've probably heard my thoughts on homosexuality...well, here we go again...
Today I was reading what this guy said http://newsbloggers.aol.com/2007/06/28/were-all-gay-the-only-question-is-how-much/ ...
Recently there was a poll that asked Americans if we think that homosexuals can change. For the record: I don't think they can. And why should they? If your gay your gay, right?
According to the previously mentioned article "We're all gay" in some form or another. To that I say: "Oh no we're not."
Over the years I've heard 'stories' about people who 'wake up' one day and discover their gay. To which I say: Yeah right.
You know good and goddamn well that your 35 year old ass didn't just wake up at seven o'clock Thursday morning and say "Wow, hmmmm I think I'm gay..."
It doesn't work like that. You were gay the whole time.
I've heard people say that P-Diddy, Russell and others are (allegedly) gay because of all of the money they make and the circles they run in. To which I say: Yeah right.
It doesn't matter how much money you make. I can win a 100 million dollars tomorrow and I don't care what, I am not going to be 'experimenting' with my sexuality. I don't want to see, hear or read about two dudes pounding each other in the ass. Nope, don't wanna know about it. I used to love the HBO show 'OZ', but I used to have to watch it with my hands over my eyes on certain parts. 'Pulp Fiction' is my favorite movie but I don't watch that part where they rape Marcellus Wallace. Iceberg Slim is one of my favorite writers but I still haven't read - and refuse to read "Momma Black Widow', nope won't do it. I don't wanna know.
I don't care what the Christian Right says people can be born gay. And it didn't just start happening 30 years ago, hell no, it's been going on since we evolved from whatever and where ever. When I was in junior high school there was a kid named (for legal reasons I will not divulge his real name, I'm going to be rich one day and I don't want that guy suing me) Andre, it was the seventh grade, I kept seeing this kid that looked like a boy sometimes and a girl other times. I remember asking some of the fellas, "Yo, is that a dude or a broad?" To which they said, "a little bit of both."
So, many years later I run into a guy from the old neighborhood and we're talking about people from back in the day and I ask about that kid Andre to which this guy said, "Oh he's a pimp now. He pimps dudes and broads."
Was I surprised? Hell no, I seen it way back then.
When I was a crazy teenager I used to subscribe to the belief that homosexuals should all be sent to live on an isolated island somewhere with a chain link fence and ...so forth and so on. I don't believe in that kind of garbage anymore.
However, I still disagree with the homosexual lifestyle. What a person does in the privacy of their home is their business. I have no problem with it. I'm glad that there are gay clubs and parades and proms, they have the right to express themselves.
However, I don't agree with gay marriage. Nah duke, you knew once you came out of the closet that that wasn't cool. I don't doubt for one second that you all love each other and all, but, marriage is between a man and a woman. For me God has nothing to do with it. In every society since time began (at least for human beings) marriage has been between a man and a woman. Without a doubt men and men did what they did, however, there has always been an understanding that, yo, no-no-no-no-no our civillization can't be built on the union of two men as married partners. And besides that shit doesn't sound right.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Iceberg Slim, Sidewalk Justice
It's been a long time I shouldn't have left you...I know, I know, I keep letting you down. Sorry but there's been one too many things happening in this crazy thing called my life. Please believe I been working real hard on bringing you high powered, super-charged up, ultra-magnetic articles to read for the future.
It all began when I started doing research about one of my heroes Robert 'Iceberg Slim' Beck. I've never seen an article, or a book about the man who inspired a movement. Gangsta lit/ghetto lit whatever you wanna call it, started with him way back in 1967. Beck wrote seven books, three of which were autobiographical. Of those three books: "Pimp: The Story of My Life", "Naked Soul" and "Airtight Willie and Me" he was loose with certain facts about his life. I thought to myself that it would be cool if someone - using journalistic techniques, told the story of the man behind the books.
Nice idea, right?
It is the hardest project I have ever undertaken. For one thing his widow refuses to do interviews. His first wife - well, common-law wife, is too sick to talk. His daughters? Oh my God, they are hard to find. I reached out to them through a lawyer and two publishers, to which I got no response. Which means, that they too don't wanna talk.
Which is ashamed. We're talking about a man that started a movement. We're talking about a man that is said to be one of the best selling African American writers ever. He sold somewhere near six million books that have been translated into four different languages in forty years. So we're not talking about some obscure guy. We're talking about someone that has had an impact on our culture... And his family doesn't want to talk publicly about him? That doesn't sound right.
If it was my dad that had a major impact on American culture I would share anything I could about him. But I guess, not everyone thinks like I do. Shame.
I pitched the story around to magazines and newspapers, all of whom passed...they don't get it.
But all is not lost true believer.
I told my editor Andre Torres at Wax Poetics what I had been working on and he's interested in it, so all I gotta do is find an angle and edit what I have and we'll take it from there. Stay tuned on that front...
I was talking with my home boy Ronin Ro last night and we got to talking about the 'Stop Snitchin' movement that is plaguing our communities. Here's my take on 'Stop Snitchin'...
If you and I are both doing grimy ass, illegal ass s%#!t together and I get busted...I can't rollover on you and tell the cops what your doing. I have to do my time like a man. If I tell on you - then I'm a snitch.
There are certain occasions when it is necessary to go to the cops. For instance: Your next door neighbor sits in front of his window (curtains open) all day jacking off looking at little kids. What do you do?
Me, I'm knocking on his door first. He'll have his dick in his hand, I'll have a baseball bat or a hammer (which oddly are both phallic symbols, but the similarities end there) in mine. He will quickly get the point that if he doesn't...
A) Close his fu$&kin window.
B) Stay the hell away from my kids and everybody else's kids
He will see that a baseball bat and or a hammer are harder - and more deadly, than his dick. After that I'd go to the property management and tell them that I promised to discombobulate and do some real primitive ish to the retard in 4E.
Let's say I knew that the guys next door were bank robbers - would I call the cops? Hell no. Robbing banks is a victim less crime (for the most part) the insurance pays the bank off.
But let's say, the idiots next door to me are bank robbers who have gone on a violent bank robbing spree. Would I tell?
Hell yeah. Now they've involved innocent people. What if that was your kid? Or your grandmother or moms cashing a check when Wally Gator and crew come in and stick the bank up and start pistol whipping customers. They deserve the wrath of the law.
Here's where it gets more interesting.
Let's say my son saw a robbery take place. He saw first hand the whole thing and even knew the guys that did it. Do you know what I'd tell him to do? Keep quiet.
Why?
Kids are in a different social structure than we are. I'd tell my son: Look, you saw what you saw, you know what you know, but for your own safety, you didn't see nothing. Kids can get to other kids real quick. Kids roll in large groups. Your average thirty and forty year old doesn't roll like that. The best way for a kid to protect himself is to be quiet and to stay out of the game.
However, if it is a violent crime that my son has witnessed ie; rape or murder, then we are both going to the cops. After that Smith and Wesson will be actively protecting my residence.
As adults we have different responsibilities. If I see a violent crime ie; rape, murder, carjacking, molestation I'm going to the cops. I'm a regular dude. I ain't a gangster. Gangsters have it to where they can exact their own revenge, your regular average ordinary pedestrian doesn't have it like that. We have to go to the cops for justice.
"Stop Snitchin" has turned our communities into places where justice rarely ever gets served because no one wants to be involved and no one wants to do do anything. So the sense of community is non-existent because our homes and stores have become havens for criminals.
It all began when I started doing research about one of my heroes Robert 'Iceberg Slim' Beck. I've never seen an article, or a book about the man who inspired a movement. Gangsta lit/ghetto lit whatever you wanna call it, started with him way back in 1967. Beck wrote seven books, three of which were autobiographical. Of those three books: "Pimp: The Story of My Life", "Naked Soul" and "Airtight Willie and Me" he was loose with certain facts about his life. I thought to myself that it would be cool if someone - using journalistic techniques, told the story of the man behind the books.
Nice idea, right?
It is the hardest project I have ever undertaken. For one thing his widow refuses to do interviews. His first wife - well, common-law wife, is too sick to talk. His daughters? Oh my God, they are hard to find. I reached out to them through a lawyer and two publishers, to which I got no response. Which means, that they too don't wanna talk.
Which is ashamed. We're talking about a man that started a movement. We're talking about a man that is said to be one of the best selling African American writers ever. He sold somewhere near six million books that have been translated into four different languages in forty years. So we're not talking about some obscure guy. We're talking about someone that has had an impact on our culture... And his family doesn't want to talk publicly about him? That doesn't sound right.
If it was my dad that had a major impact on American culture I would share anything I could about him. But I guess, not everyone thinks like I do. Shame.
I pitched the story around to magazines and newspapers, all of whom passed...they don't get it.
But all is not lost true believer.
I told my editor Andre Torres at Wax Poetics what I had been working on and he's interested in it, so all I gotta do is find an angle and edit what I have and we'll take it from there. Stay tuned on that front...
I was talking with my home boy Ronin Ro last night and we got to talking about the 'Stop Snitchin' movement that is plaguing our communities. Here's my take on 'Stop Snitchin'...
If you and I are both doing grimy ass, illegal ass s%#!t together and I get busted...I can't rollover on you and tell the cops what your doing. I have to do my time like a man. If I tell on you - then I'm a snitch.
There are certain occasions when it is necessary to go to the cops. For instance: Your next door neighbor sits in front of his window (curtains open) all day jacking off looking at little kids. What do you do?
Me, I'm knocking on his door first. He'll have his dick in his hand, I'll have a baseball bat or a hammer (which oddly are both phallic symbols, but the similarities end there) in mine. He will quickly get the point that if he doesn't...
A) Close his fu$&kin window.
B) Stay the hell away from my kids and everybody else's kids
He will see that a baseball bat and or a hammer are harder - and more deadly, than his dick. After that I'd go to the property management and tell them that I promised to discombobulate and do some real primitive ish to the retard in 4E.
Let's say I knew that the guys next door were bank robbers - would I call the cops? Hell no. Robbing banks is a victim less crime (for the most part) the insurance pays the bank off.
But let's say, the idiots next door to me are bank robbers who have gone on a violent bank robbing spree. Would I tell?
Hell yeah. Now they've involved innocent people. What if that was your kid? Or your grandmother or moms cashing a check when Wally Gator and crew come in and stick the bank up and start pistol whipping customers. They deserve the wrath of the law.
Here's where it gets more interesting.
Let's say my son saw a robbery take place. He saw first hand the whole thing and even knew the guys that did it. Do you know what I'd tell him to do? Keep quiet.
Why?
Kids are in a different social structure than we are. I'd tell my son: Look, you saw what you saw, you know what you know, but for your own safety, you didn't see nothing. Kids can get to other kids real quick. Kids roll in large groups. Your average thirty and forty year old doesn't roll like that. The best way for a kid to protect himself is to be quiet and to stay out of the game.
However, if it is a violent crime that my son has witnessed ie; rape or murder, then we are both going to the cops. After that Smith and Wesson will be actively protecting my residence.
As adults we have different responsibilities. If I see a violent crime ie; rape, murder, carjacking, molestation I'm going to the cops. I'm a regular dude. I ain't a gangster. Gangsters have it to where they can exact their own revenge, your regular average ordinary pedestrian doesn't have it like that. We have to go to the cops for justice.
"Stop Snitchin" has turned our communities into places where justice rarely ever gets served because no one wants to be involved and no one wants to do do anything. So the sense of community is non-existent because our homes and stores have become havens for criminals.
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