Allow Me To Reindroduce My Self

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

That's how I feel when I think about Henry Louis Gates being arrested in his home. No, those aren't eloquent or insightful words. I don't feel like trying to conjure those up right now. I'm pissed, fuck thoughtful. Me and every other black man in this fucking country have fit the description since the day we turned 12. I'm sick of being afraid of cops, but my black ass better be, they shoot us. And no, they don't shoot white people at the same rate, I'm not looking up the god damn stats; we all know it's not even close. And we all know that being black in America is enough to get you killed. If you doubt it, get your head out of your fucking ass. I'm sick of this shit. And then our president and the rest of the Black Intellectual Elites in this country (not you Cornell West), blame us. It's because we won't pull our fucking pants up, or because our parents let us play video games. Fuck that shit. It's because this whole fucking world is ruled by racist white people. Excuse me, white men. I don't know how or why it got this way, but I know black people didn't build schools and then decide to grossly under fund them and let them rot. I know black people didn't build housing projects right next to those schools (and right next to a substandard version of everything else you need so you don't have to venture too close to the lily white neighborhoods. pay attention) and herd ourselves in. I know black people didn't decide that our language would be substandard and that even uttering one phrase in black dialect discredits any and every thing you say. That's what they call "the system" people. It's real, and if your skin is dark, the system considers you a disease that must be contained and controlled. You don't believe me? Just ask Mr. Gates.

I've been seen as dangerous since the day I hit puberty. People are afraid of me when I walk down the fucking street, or talk to loud in a bar. How can we ever fucking be equal. Fuck this shit. All of it.

Thanks for listening, I mean that.

And Find My Own Way Out

Some music is just good, you feel it. Some songwriters just say it all. It's not about what type of music they make or weather they are "underground", "indie" or "mainstream". It's about melodies and lyrics entering your soul and never leaving.

And with that in mind, I submit: If you don't like The Dave Matthews Band; there is something wrong with you. Last night, my wife and I watched a special on Fuse (the new MTV, and it's just as bad) called The Road to Big Whiskey. It's a documentary about about the band's history leading up to the newest album, and its great. I have never been the type to care much about the people making the music I love. I can't tell you the real names of all of the Wu (my all time favorite by far). Nor can I tell you the details of Chuck D's childhood. But watching and listening to Dave and the band made me love them even more. They are real, normal people; and dedicated, passionate musicians.

Now I know it's not cool to like Dave. I know it's supposed to be some frat boy shit but, imagine if you never knew that. Imagine if, like me, you didn't hear or hear of DMB until you were 20 years old and having the time of your life. If there was no stigma, would you like #41 or Rapunzel or Crush (my personal favorite cuz it makes me think of my wife)? Or do you like them now and are just affraid to admit it? Because while these are very joyus songs (Dave explains in the documentary that they are a joyus band even while singing of sad things), they are also great. And shit, what's wrong with a little Joy every now and then. DMB isn't the corny pop band your friends have been clowning for the past 18 years (yes, that long). They are a band all their own, with no genre and no false pretense. Listen.

And Now, A top ten list....

10 Greatest Cartoons of Our Time

10. Spawn (the HBO series by McFarlane was nuts)
9. All the Charlie Brown Movies
8. Tom and Jerry (sweet nostalgia)
7. Voltron (this one hasn't held up as well over time; same plot every episode but I loved it)
6. Duck Tails (most under rated toon ever)
5. GI Joe (if you count the animated movie this would have to be higher on the list: Cobra LALALALA!)
4. He-Man (ask me to recite the opening, any time)
3. Road Runnner (just too good)
2. Thunder Cats (Sword of Omens, Give Me Site Beyond Site!)

and the winner is....

Just pretend the movies never happened. And remember the glory. There was more character development in those cartoons than in most prime time drama. And if you add in the animated movie, in which Optimus Prime actually dies! Well now you are in to some next level shit.

A nerdy aside: Wouldn't the Decepticons have kicked the Autobots' collective metal asses all over Cybertron? They could fly when in robot form and Megatron's arm cannon could level buildings (I've seen it). I always felt a sense of injustice when the weaker, less advanced, Autobots won.

But Sometimes

The idea or notion of Family has always had a great emotional effect on me. I have so many varied feelings about the subject that I usually gloss over it, or avoid it all together. Often, I even go as far as to attempt to discredit and/or devalue the idea of Family all together, just ask my incredibly patient and understanding wife

But Sometimes...

Sometimes, the five women that raised you come to New York and you meet them at their hotel. And you sit with these five Women, all so excited they (all 45+) can not keep still, and you talk. You talk loud like they adults used to on Sundays. You laugh loud like your dad used to, the laugh that embarased you every time you heard it from the next room. There is an ease about the cacophony. You don't feel good or comfortable, you forget that you have to feel anything. You float, time stops. You are home. It is beautiful.