Preacher On Preacher Crime

My boy D-Mill, an astute ghetto philospher, has hipped me to a phenomenon that's gone largely ignored. It's a new sort of black-on-black crime. This time, the weapons are a Bible, a pulpit, and depending on how you feel about certain thangs...a jheri curl.

I'm talking about black preacher-on-preacher crime. Or, the holy version of the Time Haters.



Who knew black preachers went after each other like rappers, minus the gats. You thought Nas' rivalry with Puffy and Jay Z was hard? You thought the way LL Cool J used to question Moe Dee's flow was rough?

Lemme introduce you to Pastor James David Manning and his beef with Obama and Creflo Dollar.

Manning's ministry is located in New York. He hates Creflo Dollar, black men, and Obama, but strangely enough, not George Bush, who Manning considers a great leader. Let's say you're on the fence about whether to vote for Obama. Well, Pastor Manning gives you the real reason you shouldn't vote for Obama:



We shouldn't vote for Obama because we don't like his foreign politics, because he's soft on crime, or might be too lax with the national spending. According to Manning, we shouldn't vote for Obama for one reason:

He got a white momma.

Need he say more?

I love a Youtube sensation like this dude. If you scroll through his videos, you'll see other crazy shit he's said. Like, Creflo Dollar is a Times Square pimp. Like, the reason Katrina happened is because no-account, low-down, worthless black men refused to protect their own. Or, my personal favorite: When Manning told Fox News' John Gibson that instead of wasting our time with wanna-be Negroes like Obama, we should be concentrating on someone who is really black, like Wesley Snipes.

See what happens when the wrong Negro gets a microphone and a dictionary?

Manning is apart of this strange underworld of Youtube preachers who seemingly generate hits by cutting into one another and preaching outlandish things. They dress a whole bunch of extremist viewpoints with one or two kernels of truth.

Nevertheless, Pastor Tony Smith came back at Pastor Manning on some Hit 'Em Up shit. You've got a to watch this all the way through. At least to the point where Smith says the main reason we shouldn't trust Manning is because he has a jheri curl and is probably a molester. Oh, and you'll also love Pastor Tony's hype men in the back.



I know this will stun you, but Pastor Smith used to be a pimp. Shocking, I know.

After tapping into the secret world of Pastors Gone Wild, I find myself extremely jealous and disappointed. When I was younger, I had to be in church every Sunday, and at least once a week for a choir meeting or Bible study or something. Had my childhood pastor been like Pastor Smith or Pastor Manning, I would have been up in church four nights a week! Pastor Manning called another pastor an asshole during a sermon. Why couldn't I have had that pastor growing up?

Oh, that's right, cuz I'd be going to hell with gasoline 'draws on.

What Happened To Big Momma?

Ohhh my Lawd...Lawd...Lawd...Lawd!

Mmmmm-hmmm....

Mmmm-hmmm...

'Round these parts, we call this the Coon Roll Call (or CRC). Whenever I see something that's outrageous, so ghetto, so ni--...do I need to repeat the rest? I just remember this scene from Glory.

Oh my Lawd....Lawd...Lawd....Lawd!!!

Today I'm doing the CRC because of this story sent to me by a friend. It's about a 15-year-old who just had a baby. Not desirable, but it happens. But here's the anomaly: the 15-year-old's momma is 29.

A grandma at 29?

Oh my Lawd....Lawd...Lawd....Lawd!!!!

Remember when Bernie Mac said one of the biggest problems in the black community is that Big Momma got wiped out. Y'all know Big Momma, don't you? Big Momma was often the matriarch of the black family. The strong one. The wise one. The storyteller. The one with a strong sense of right and wrong, forgiveness and sadness. Basically, she was the Mama from Soul Food. Or, Maya Angelou.

Lots of things strengthen families, but one thing that's time-honored is a sense of oral history within a family. You need to have that figure, man or woman, that's lived through several decades, who can attest to world and family changes. If grandmothers are great-grandmotheres are suddenly drastically younger, the family itself faces stunted growth. What wisdom could a 29-year-old pass down to a 15-year-old? Maybe they can Soulja Boy together, but that's about it.

Yes, I realize there are some very bright 29 year olds. I'd like to think I was one of them. But even my scope of the world was limited at that age, and I had gone to college and traveled to a variety of different countries. Here we have a 29 year old who become a mother at 13, trying to pass down something to a girl who became a mother at 15. Obviously, the one thing she didn't pass down was an adequate talk about reproduction because the cycle still continued. Trifling begats trifling. And think about the odds of the 29-year-old grandmother being a great-grandmother. I'm betting she'll be one by the time she's 50. Easily.

All that being said, journalistically, there's a ton of things wrong with this story. It's lazy journalism. In the first couple of paragraphs, the journalist admits that teen pregnancies have dropped nationally and locally. So, the journalists finds a perfect mainstream stereotype -- a young, black woman who had a baby by another baby. As Morris Chestnut said in Best Man, the consummate-mother-whore. Nice.

Oh my Lawd...Lawd...lawd....Lawd!!

Mmmm-hmmmmm....

Down Goes The Master Of The Open-Hand Slap

"Beating muthaphuckas like Ike beat Tina..."
-- Biggie Smalls

One of the greatest pimps of all time is gone. The king of the open-hand slap is no more. The dude that gave us one of my favorite lines of all time -- "miss a step today, you be fryin' fish tomorrow" -- has passed away.

OK, I'm not sure if Ike Turner really said that, but Larry Fishburne did in What's Love Got To Do With It. Good enough.

Ike Freakin' Turner died. Of what? I'onknow. All I do know is Ike, on top of being a for real musical genius, is one of the greatest characters America has come to know. Never has someone been so unapologetic about whupping a woman's ass for damn near half her life.

But as I said to a friend earlier tonight, if Ike hadn't discovered Tina, would there have ever been a Tina? If Ike hadn't beat Tina Turner, would she have gone solo? The craziest thing about their story is that the greatest tragedy turned into a huge victory for one of them, and an albatross for the other. If Tina hadn't gotten her ass beat, there is no way she'd be looked at as an iconic woman today. One man's fist is another woman's superstar career.

When Whoopi said, "until you do right by me...everything you do is gonna fail," she coulda been talking about Ike. His greatest downfall was doing Tina wrong. That and wearing outfits like these:

I meannnn...

Who knew a dude that once said "I didn't beat her...with a closed fist" would feel confident enough to wear a go-go belt and heels? For all of Ike's bluster and fuss, he sholl' didn't mind looking like a broke-ass Solid Gold dancer.

Anyway, what made Ike a character is his continual denial that he was, indeed, a character. Ike supposedly was married 14 times, but only four publicly. A couple years ago, Ike penned a song called "Safe Sex." Here are the lyrics:

Sex / I want it every day / There ain't no-body going to take my sex away / Condoms is my best friends / Without condoms I ain't gonna go in.

From the mind of Ike.

In all seriousness, there is a certain teaching tool here with Ike. He was a pioneer. Despite how it may look, Ike was the one who discovered Tina, and if it weren't for his musical genius and intuition, she would never have become an international star. When Ike was really in his heydey, there were hardly any black people getting credit for the music they were producing. Americans, particularly whites, don't like to acknowledge this, but Elvis and several of the legends they idolize stole their music from black folks. Black folk like Ike.

Had Ike never become a cokehead, he might have a legacy like Phil Spector or some of the other great musical talents of our time. Instead, he'll be remembered as the once-genius dude who beat another musical great's ass for damn near 20 years. Just goes to show that it's not what you do that counts, but how you're remembered.

I Knew Him, But Did I KNOW Him?

OK, white people, make up your minds. Is he Doughboy with 4.4 speed? Is he O-Dog with the ability to intercept?

Make up your minds!

Damn, black folks go through enough shit in this world. We can't even die in peace. We've got to die in controversy, in a swirl of racism. But I suppose it makes sense, since that is essentially how we come in this world, right?

As you probably know by now, Sean Taylor died from a gunshot wound the other morning. It's tragic on a number of levels. He's the second NFL player murdered this year. Correction: He's the second BLACK NFL player murdered this year. Darrent Williams, like Sean Taylor, also was 24.

For some reason, Sean Taylor's murder resonated more with me than Darrent Williams. Mainly because I know Sean Taylor. Or rather, I know him, but I don't know him.

Never met him before in my life, but throughout my life, I've come across different caricatures of him. He was young, talented, brash, and matured right in front of us. He was a black boy once lost, but then found. He was striving, but not quite there yet. We see these black men every day. Just a black man trying to find his way.

It's sad because, despite fame, money, popularity, a new kid, a new fiance, a police chief daddy, a Pro Bowl on the resume, he ultimately succumbed to being another black men shot dead. What makes Taylor's case more frightening than Williams is that Taylor was shot in his home, with his fiance and 18-month-old in the room. Darrent Williams' death also was untimely. But it was New Year's Eve. He was at a celebrity birthday party (Kenyon Martin). He was with other high-profile Broncos players. It's been reported that WR Brandon Marshall got into a confrontation with some fool at the bar. Darrent and his party decided to leave before the spot got hot. A few minutes later, their limo was shot up, presumbably by the same dudes who had beef.

That situation isn't a shock. But a player get snuffed out in their own crib with wifey and child huddled in fear underneath the covers? Scary shit.

What's troubling is the media has shown virtually no compassion toward Taylor because yes, he has had a few scrapes with the law. He got into a beef with someone who supposedly had stolen from him. Taylor allegedly pulled out a gun on the dude, even though that was never substantiated in a court of law. He eventually plead to a misdemeanor. Later on, his car was shot up about 30 times. He wasn't in it, but obviously, if you're car is being shot up, you have created an enemy or two.

Those are relevant as we try to shape and figure out who did this to Sean Taylor. Well, they were, until the police said his previous troubles didn't seem to bear any connection on his murder. But, of course, the media didn't drop it. Most things said and written about this man carries the undertone that he deserved the violent because SHOCKER, in his early 20s, he'd made some bad decisions.

But you know how the media do. If they can't make it stick, they just make up shit. I heard someone say Taylor had escaped his "background." Oh really? You mean the background that included growing up in a middle-class home and attending an exclusive Miami prep school? Someone else talked about him breaking away from unsavory characters. Oh, really? Funny, his former Miami teammates said he had kept to himself since he got into trouble. Another columnist said he kept his circle small and didn't trust anyone. Various media members admitted no one knew him that well because he didn't like the media, yet in the same breadth they have made some grandiose assumptions about his character. Now we see why he didn't talk to their asses.

Sadly, this is the never-ending media two-step. CNN, MSNBC, punk-ass FOX, and everyone else make a living out of making black people seem like America's No. 1 nightmare. All day, e'eery day, people are shown images of black people as perpetrators. So when we're actually victims, people still try to make us into criminals, or make the crimes puported against us seem justified.

OF COURSE, that doesn't happen to white folks. Y'all know that. Kurt Cobain, dude from INXS, and a host of other celebrities have committed suicide or overdosed, and their deaths always are romanticized. They are always viewed and constructed as tragic, sympathetic figures. Should Keith Richards drop dead tomorrow of an overdose, his drug abuse will be noted, but people will mostly talk about what a great musician he is and how it's such a tragedy. Natalee Holloway also has been painted as a tragic figure and if she were held to the same standards as Sean Taylor, the media would spend most of their time calling her stupid for leaving with three men she didn't know. If Natalee were Rashida, there were would be hour-long specials devoted to examining what dumbass parents would allow their teenage daughter to go to a foreign country unsupervised knowing the druggin' and drinkin' likely to occur.

But let me leave that there and deal with something else that hasn't been talked about as much -- the difference between Miami and everywhere else. Taylor is just the latest 'Cane to befall a tragic circumstances. In the last 17 years, nine 'Canes have died. Last year, Bryan Pata was shot in the head, execution style. Linebacker Marlin Barnes and his girlfriend were murdered by a jealous former boyfriend.

Miami is unique, beautiful (in spots), and extraordinarily dangerous. Particularly for Miami players. Football is the lifeblood of Florida, but in Miami it's the veins and cartilage, too. A Miami football player would have as much juice as Shaq in Miami. They are revered and such celebrity, especially when Luther Campbell has been bankrolling your program for years, is a target for animosity, too.

And that's the special conundrum black athletes are in. They're already targets because of their fame and wealth. Add in their skin color, which makes black men six times more likely to be murdered than a white man, and it's a powder keg. Unfortunately, the jealousy factor among blacks is horrific. When a black athlete steps into a club, he's also facing a supreme wall of hate. Dudes that don't think he's that good of a ballplayer. Dudes that are pissed all the women killing each other to get up in VIP with the ballers. Dudes who are like, "man I ran for 100 yards on that fool in high school. Fugg him."

As a friend pointed out, here's the major difference between white haters and black haters. If a white boy doesn't make it, he might be jealous of the superstar athlete that did, but...he's a CPA or an attorney. He's found a measure of success beyond athletics. He doesn't have the need to justify the accomplishments against the athlete that made it.

But with us, it ain't that simple. That black hata in the club, pissed he wasn't the big-time football star, didn't go on and become something else. Since too many black folks place all hopes on rappin' or ballin', odds are the black hata started slangin' or didn't do shit. And worse, black hata is strapped hatin' yo ass because you've made something of yourself.

Miami is portrayed as a beautiful, noveau, upperclass city. Truth: Miami is a shithole. Not completely, but it's some shit-hole-ish going on. But that's any inner city. There is a wide chasm between the have and have nots. But those have nots still have access to the same venues as the haves.

This is the pressurized swirl black athletes find themselves in. Wanting to stick close to black folks, but doing so could get them killed or hurt. Just a generation removed from poverty, first generation money responsible for family and crew that couldn't get on for their damn selves.

Not even in death can we get peace.

The death of Kanye West's mother, Donda, was tragic, but y'all know I have some questions, right?

First, an observation about Kanye's relationship with his mother. In some ways, their relationship emphasized how important it is for a black man to be raised by another strong, black man. Of course, women have been raising sons for years, but women tend to pass on their women-like traits to their sons, who we later refer to as bitches.

Kanye is brilliant, a once-in-a-generation musical talent, but, uh...and I probably shouldn't say this because I'm sensitive to the fact his momma just died..but...derrr...uhh...dude's kind of a bitch.

Remember the MTV Europe Music Video Awards? 'Ye jumped onstage and started cussing people out because he didn't win best video. "Matter of fact, I'm not going to any more awards shows," 'Ye said. "From now on, I got all the awards I need. I'm only making my music for the fans. ... The streets know, and the fans know, that 'Touch the Sky' was killin' that video. ... Don't even nominate my shit. Don't play with me. I don't need awards to validate me."

Remember the American Music Awards in '04? 'Ye stormed out because Gretchen Wilson won for best new artist. 'Ye: "I felt like I was definitely robbed, and I refused to give any politically correct bullshit-ass comment ... I was the best new artist this year."

I know I'm getting off on a tangent, but the guys raised primarily by women are easy to spot. Exhibit A: Terrell Owens. Raised by his mother and grandmother. World-class bitch. A talented, world-class bitch, but a bitch nonetheless.

This isn't an absolute formula because I know men who were raised by women who do not display bitch traits. But the MAJORITY, do. They tend to be as dramatic as women, as sensitive as women, with wavering self-esteem like women, and anger like women.

Getting back to Momma 'Ye and her surgery debacle, it struck me as odd that Momma Ye seemed to need the spotlight as much as her son. Kanye's music naturally put him the spotlight, but he and his mother went out of their way to draw attention to himself. She wrote a book about what it was like to raise her son, aptly titled "Raising Kanye."

Hey, do you, Ms. 'Ye.

And am I the only one who found it bizarre that a 58-year-old woman would want to have a tummy tuck? I can understand the breast reduction. A lot of women get those because it reduces stress on the back and body. But it seemed a little late in the game to be making those kind of improvements.

I'm willing to pass it off as being a Hollywood, in-the-limelight thang, but if you're going to get that kind of major plastic surgery, and your son is Kanye West, wouldn't you make sure you got the top plastic surgeon to give the ol' body an oil change?

Only that's not what happened here. According to reports, Momma 'Ye got done in by a hacksaw. Dr. Jan Adams, the dude that performed Momma 'Ye's surgery, is currently under investigation by the Medical Board of California because he's gone Freddy Krueger on a couple of women. Adams was arrested twice in the last four years for alcohol-related offenses. He also has been the target of several malpractice suits and in '01, he paid out almost $500K to settle up a couple of cases.

Entertainment Tonight, CNN, and various other news outlets have interviewed several women that Adams knifed up incorrectly. Dude has flat-out disfigured women, including one woman who says he mistakenly left a surgical tissue in her breast that almost killed her.

How on Earth did Momma 'Ye wind up letting this dude operate on her? Hindsight is 20-20, of course, but there is something especially tragic about someone dying this way. Now, we don't know for sure that Momma 'Ye's death was related to her recent plastic surgery, but the suspicions are pretty strong and given this dude's track record, it's not far-fetched.

It will be interesting to see how this impacts Ye's musical career. These tragedies bury most people, but these calamities tend to strengthen artists. We'll see how 'Ye progresses forward.

"Niggas Is A Beautiful Thangggggg"

I did OK on my nigga post, but I think my dude, Twist, sums this one up a little bit better.

And just to give you something to look forward to, expect detailed blogs on the tragic passing of Kanye's momma, Donda West, and more on how niggas is a beautiful thang (a quote from Spike Lee's Bamboozled, in case you don't get it)

"You Somebody's Nigga, In That Nigga Tie"

Am I a nigga for finding nigga still funny, usable, and creative?

Take the title of this blog and this photo. The title came from a quote used in 40-year-old Virgin, one of my favorite movies. The character Jay, who works at the Smart Tech, the Best Buy knockoff, is being harassed for a hook-up by one of his boys. His boy calls him a nigga, as in nigga, you best come through with this hook up. Jay takes offense.

"I ain't nobody's nigga!" Jay says. "You want a nigga? Well, a nigga's here now!"

His boy replies, "Well, you somebody's nigga, in that nigga tie."

Funny, but with a subtle poignance. If you're black, you are somebody's nigga, be it your peeps, your company's, or theoretically and politically the nigga caught up in the American racist regime.

We're (again) debating "that word," as nigga-ologist Michael Richards would say. Now the new debate is whether nigga should be used creatively since Nas decided to title his next album, "Nigger," which is due to be released Dec. 11.

The label stands behind Nas. As they should. If there is anyone I don't worry about where the word, nigga, is concerned, it's Nas, one of the last true hip-hop artists left. If that was Soulja Boy's album title, I'd be a worried, afraid it would be associated to some coon-ass dance. But I know if Nas is titling his album that, its purpose is to educate.





To me, this whole nigga issue relates to two things: 1. Don Imus 2. White privilege. I guess they're one in the same, but as soon as Imus' degradation of the Rutgers women's basketball team turned into a conversation about what's wrong with hip hop, it became a fad to single out a word that is deeply imbedded in both white and black culture.

There is no way you can convince me white folks really give a shit about hip hop or whether black folks call each other nigga. This is about their right to use nigga, not ours. Even simpler, this is about a group being privileged for so long that even the slightest hint that there is ground they can't tread on leads to an all-out assault. Like with affirmative action, nevermind that white folks safely lock down 85 percent of the jobs, that white males on average make more money than any other racial group, white privilege would rather focus on the 10-15 percent that they aren't getting. They must have. it. all.

I wonder what the white folks would do if, tomorrow, black folks told them that they could use nigga as much as they wanted and it wouldn't get in trouble, that this would be 1837 all over again. And subsequently, we decide that we are going to call each other "pork rinds," but the rule is white folks can't call us that. Here's betting that an army of white folks would then bitch they couldn't call us "pork rinds."

This may not be politically correct to admit, but this is still a society where nigga should have its place. I don't see a problem with having a double standard in its application and usage, particularly when we have double standards throughout language that is unilaterally applied to other groups. Men have heard women call each other bitches, sluts, ho's, cows, tramps, hussies, etc., in jest. But most men would never feel comfortable openly referring to a woman in that regard. Around his boys, nonwithstanding. Most women know one of the fastest ways to make a dude turn into Ike Turner on you is to call him a bitch. We call our girls that in a minute, be it in anger or in love. But we know, to a man, this is a direct challenge of manhood. Those are two double standards we follow daily, yet I don't hear men protesting the right to call women ho's, or women protesting for the right to call men bitches.

I have heard Mexicans call each other wetbacks. I've heard Asian people refer to other Asians as having a "gong mentality," which is much like being a coon. Since I'm not a member of either race, I wouldn't be arrogant or presumptous enough to tell them what words should mean in their own culture.

It bothers white people that there are culture norms and practices they can't understand, that leave them as outsiders. As silly as it sounds, many of them are jealous that minorities have victim card status. Trust me, brown and black folks would trade that never-expiring victim card for white folks' power and status in society. Being forever labeled a victim, or not deserving isn't as fun as it looks.

Besides, if the nigga debate were ever settled and the word was somehow banned from the lexicon, look at the damage it would make within my immediate music world.

- No Dead Nigga Blvd Pt I and II from Me'Shell N'Degeocello (No longer do I blame others for the way we be/'Cause niggas need to redefine what it means to be free)

- No Mr. Nigga from Mos Def; (Now who is the cat at Armani buying wears?/With the tourists who be asking him, do you work here?/Mr. Nigga, Nigga, Nigga)

- No Nigga Witta Gun from Dre; (Who is the man with the masterplan? A Nigga Witta muthafuckin' gun!)

It would also mean the banishment of one of the greatest phrases ever uttered in cinema. It comes from the movie, "Bamboozled," one of Spike Lee's best films. It goes:

"Niggas is a beautiful thannnggggg...."

Ain't No Fun When The Rabbit Got The Gun

I'm having a little bit of a problem feeling complete sympathy for those who have been victimized by the California Wildfires.

I'm not happy that anyone lost their homes. But I was in L.A., during the wildfires and as the fire raged, as I watched news coverage of the destruction, it was impossible not to compare Cali to Hurricane Katrina.

(In slave voice) Boy, thangs sholl' do run differently when it's the white folks, doesn't it?

The wildfire victims -- wait, how come they aren't being called refugees? -- were given refuge in Qualcomm Stadium, where the Charges play. Here's a description of what it was like inside there:

"In addition to an almost overwhelming supply of food, drink, clothing toys and any personal care item you could think of, insurance company motor homes stand in the parking lot, their generators droning, offering grilled hamburgers and the chance to file a claim all in one sitting," writes reporter Martin Savidge.

"And then there are services I haven't ever seen offered at a disaster evacuation site.You can get a massage or acupuncture, join a prayer circle, eat Kosher, have something custom crocheted, attend a yoga or meditation class and even get a custom air-brushed t-shirt, all at no cost."

Compare that to the conditions inside the Superdome, where Hurricane Katrina victims -- who were repeatedly called refugees even though they are U.S. citizens -- were housed during the storm:

"Conditions in the Superdome had become horrendous: There was no air conditioning, the toilets were backed up, and the stench was so bad that medical workers wore masks as they walked around."

Hurricane Katrina was the worst act of racism since slavery. The difference in how FEMA and the gov't have responsed to the wildfires clarifies that point succintly.

The asshole-pundits, politicians and diplomats, will have you believe the reason wildfire victims were given tents, kept with their familes, given cellphone chargers, endless food and supplies is because they "learned" from Katrina. It took Dubya Dumb Ass a week or more to come see about Katrina. He was in Cali in three days. And let's not forgot how the former FEMA chief, Brownie, was told about the disaster that was going to strike New Orleans and he promptly took a damn nap.

In fact, the gov't is so aware of their fradulency, they staged a press conference because they probably didn't want to answer the criticisms about how much more efficiently they've handled the wildfires.

Surely, they don't want to admit that if you're poor, black and mass destruction strikes, you're effectively screwed. Since the victims in the wildfires are overwhelmingly white and wealthy, the type of people the gov't decision-makers can identify with, they will act quickly and decisively to aid them. Call me a jerk, but my heart strings aren't tugged when I see a white couple crying outside of their $5 million home.

While in Cali, I heard a couple ads from insurance companies, pledging to help the wildfire victims as quickly as possible. Not sure if they did that during Katrina. But those greedy-ass insurance companies robbed many of the working class citizens in New Orleans who had been paying them for years, offering them $1800 for their homes, claiming the damage sustained was done by a flood, not a hurricane. How saintly of them to create a loophole when people's lives had been ruined.

Neighborhoods in New Orleans still haven't recovered from the storm. In the ninth ward, it took them a year to get electricity. But you can bet in Malibu, San Diego and other cities, they'll have everything up and running in a hurry. Probably already do.

Race and class in this country determines everything. Feel sorry for yourself if you fit the wrong combination.

The Adventures of Big Red & Brown Shuga

I'm not much of a do-er when I go out of town.

I'm a creature of habit. I go to the same spots and generally do the same things when I'm in different cities. Eat well. Drink well. See a few friends. Workout a little bit. Sleep.

I'm back in Los Angeles, where I go every other month, but this trip was a little different because my girl, Brown Shuga, decided to join me.

On the foolishness scale, this trip has been about a 9.5. A quick overview, then a longer explanation: Saw David Beckham rolling in his Tahoe blasting rap music, got into a car accident, Brown Shuga bought Jennifer Hudson's skirt from Dreamgirls, witnessed a woman lunge violently at Jimmy Kimmel, rented a drunk bus and passed out in it, ate a double-cheeseburger with chili and some other unidentifiable ish, ate a top-5 all-time meal, drank an $85 bottle of Saki, and realized more than ever that life is all about good friends in high places. And if that's not enough, this is all taking place in the backdrop of the raging California wildfires and an earthquake that also hit there.

Gotta begin with the funniest thing that happened. Crazy Woman Attacks Jimmy Kimmel. Thanks to a hook-up, me and Brown Shuga got into Kimmel's green room and front row seats. Some dude begins warming up the audience by offering free t-shirts if you come to the stage and exhibit a "talent."

I was thinking, is this the time to breakout my rendition of Al Green's "Let's Stay Together?" Nahhhhh....So this blonde, squat, pudgy chick who seems a whole lot off offers to tell a joke. I mean, it wasn't like she was competing against Fantasia or anything. Some guy who looked like a wanna-be Beattle stepped to the stage and claimed he could crack his knuckles non-stop...and he really couldn't.

But Pudgy Blonde doesn't want to come to the stage. She just wants to stay in her seat, which is not the object of this particular exercise. Audience Warmer Dude even tells her if she comes to the stage, she can get a t-shirt or a shot. Not bad, right? She's still protesting. He puts a mic in her face and she's sounds spacey. He even asked her if she was high.

"High on life!" she said.

OK, nutbag. Audience Warmer Dude decides to let her tell her whack-ass joke anyway. The joke? What does orange juice and a blonde have in common?

Concentrate.

Um, yeah.

Even worse, she stumbled through the "joke." Didn't get the punchline quite right. Audience Warmer Dude told her the joke was terrible. Master of the obvious.

On goes the show. We're about halfway through and Kimmel is airing one of his bits with Uncle Frank and Guillermo, Kimmel's parking lot attendant and a character on the show. By the way, I almost wanted to slide Guillermo the number for the EEOC. He's funny, but he's kinda coonin' and setting brown folks back. He's a Mexican Amos. or Andy. Step N' Fetchit. He needs to see Bamboozled.

Anyway, as the bit is airing, Pudgy Blonde jumps up out of her seat, runs toward the stage and lunges at Kimmel! Talk about random. She's yelling, "Jimmy, I want to get out! I want to get out! Something bad is going to happen here!"

Kimmel, the professional that he is, doesn't break a sweat. Although, I'm sure he was praying that old girl's psychotic episode ended before he had to come back live to the show. Security nabbed her before she actually got to him. OIH -- Only in Hollywood. Oh and, Ray Liotta is officially a fossil.

Anyway, the best way to experience L.A. is on great hook-ups. We got a couple hook-ups after Kimmel. My boy got us into Les Deux. Another guy got us to VIP. No paying. No waiting. That's how you got to do it.

I'm such an asshole now that I can't wait in lines at club anymore. Got to get a great time and table for the restaraunt reservation. Life's too short to be spent waiting. Besides, I'm too friggin' impatient.

Many adult beverages were consumed between Kimmel and Les Deux. It free dranks in Kimmel's green room and we took full advantage. Even did it ghetto style and double-fisted chardonnay. At Les Deux, it was Patron, Guiness, and Belvi. We were indeed feeling it when we got to the drunk bus, aka our limo. Yeah, no B.S., we had a limo. But not on purpose. We were supposed to get a plain' ol towncar, but the driver said he HAD to bring the limo instead. Who are we to argue?

We stumbled in and I told the driver we needed food. Any food. I'm sure I didn't sound that coherent, but this is my story, so I tell it how I want. The driver took us to this place called Tommy's, hopped out the car and said he'd take care of us. I think he could tell we were bliz-asted.

He came back with two double chili cheeseburgers, fries and cokes. That shit was like LIFE. I don't think I ate it. I inhaled it. Probably took 30 seconds. Next thing I know, it's a wrap. I hear a knock on the window and the driver saying, "ladies, ladies, we're here." Yep, me and Brown Shuga straight passed out. But hey, that's why we got the drunk bus to begin with, right?

Oh, about that car accident: Guy in BMW hits girl in Jeep, who hits me and Brown Shuga. Minimal damage. No one was hurt. Actually, I was in an accident with two of the coolest people ever. We even posed for pictures in front of dude's banged-up Beemer (Brown Shuga's idea).

Good times.

A Quickie...

I know I'm waaaay late to the scene, but the other night I finally watched Fight Club all the way through.

Ummm.....what da fugg was that movie about?

I'd seen in it in bits and pieces, but that movie is absolutely ridiculously. Not in a bad way. In a it-gives-me-the-creeps-and-makes-me-feel-slightly-uncomfortable way.

Ed Norton has been off the scene for a minute, but I forgot how much he's that deal. Ever see American History X? Movie still gives me the chills and it's best script Guy Torre will ever get his hands on. Ed was just as strong in Primal Fear and 25th Hour, a completely overlooked masterpiece by Spike Lee. Also, it gave me another reason to hate Rosario Dawson's horribly beautiful ass.

Anyway, Fight Club was just freakin' bizarre. A psychotic rage against the machine orchestrated by a mentally ill sociopath. I hate movies that, at the end, I wonder...am I supposed to enjoy this? If I don't get this, does it make me stupid? Am I supposed to get deep and contemplative about this? Am I supposed to come up with a new meaning of life after this?

Felt the same way after I saw Monster's Ball. Was I supposed to find it depressing? Moving? Raw? Gritty? Was I wrong to laugh at the fat kid the whole movie? Should I not have found humor in the fact that you just can't make Halle Berry look ghetto?

Fight Club was weird.

Getting Ready For Homecoming

After lunch today, I decided to go this nail shop near my house because they had a manicure and pedicure special today for $27. I know, ridiculous.

I never been to this place before. Just passed it a couple times. As soon as I walked in, a middle-aged Chinese woman asks me what I want. The special, I say.

"You getting ready for homecoming tonight?"

Homecoming? Um, no. Whose homecoming? I was thinking maybe she meant the university, which is about 20 minutes from my house.

"High school homecoming," she said. "All the girls have come in today to get their nails. You want school colors on your nails?"

Lady, I am not in high school. But it's cute that you think so. I graduated from high school 15 years ago.

"You look young," she said. "Your shape. Your face. You look young."

At this point, I didn't know if ol' girl wanted to do my nails or make out with me. But like any woman, I'm a sucker for a compliment, particularly one that takes some mileage off the odometer. And in this case, after I'd wolfed some fried fish, green beans, rice n' gravy, cornbread and yams...yeah, I was loving hearing that I wasn't looking like a heifer.

Anyway, it got me to thinking about how you get the pick-me-up in the most unlikeliest places. And even if ol' girl was doing it to get a phat tip, it worked. She got a 30 percent hook up.

The Light-Skin Woman Is Always In

Gotta share a funny thought about this before I delve more deeply into this issue.

Since I'm from the D, where this light-skin party was supposed to take place, a friend sent me an e-mail entitled, "defend your city."

To be honest, I really couldn't. Theme parties in the D go on all the time. There is the infamous white party. The gator party (as in those who wear gators get in free). The Hennessy party. So us having a light-skin party is not a shock. We would throw a baby momma with a bullet hole party if it gave us a good excuse to gig, wear our gators and tangerine suits. It's just how we do.

Anyway, I responded light-heartedly to my boy. "OK, but my man did say he planned to have chocolate and caramel parties in the coming weeks," I wrote. "He was trying to be inclusive."

His response: "Uh huh. Sadly, the night of the chocolate party won't no dudes be there. Light skinned girls will be in style forever. Even longer than Air Force Ones."

That's a pretty long time.

I'll submit the colorstruck issue, which has resurfaced because of the controversy surrounding the light-skinned women party, is strictly one-sided. Black men don't have to deal with the issue within their own gender. Black women just want black men to have some sense and a job. We can't afford to get picky about coloring. In the 80s, thanks to cats like Al B. Sure, El Debarge, Ozone, and Chris Williams, having a light-skin, curly-headed man was like having a pair of Jordans. Now, I don't know if it was Tyson Beckford, Malik Yoba, Big Daddy Kane, or whoever, but then it was all about the bald-head, chocolate man. It ebbs and flows.

But, when it comes to black women, the skin color standards are strict and prickly. Some black men make their tastes very obvious. Let's look at the glorious world of sports. I rarely see a professional athlete married to a dark-skinned blak woman. It's usually a woman who is either light-skinned or a combination ethnicity. The new hotness is to have a black and Asian woman (see: Kimora Lee) or a Latino woman (see: Kobe Bryant). Women, unfortunately, behave no better than the men, hating on skin color of other black women. Thinking more highly of themselves because they are a certain shade.

When I see things like this light-skinned party and listen to the ensuing debate, it's amazing how the oppressed begin to take on the traits of the oppressor. The colorstruck issue has been around for a long time, and you could argue intelligently it was, like most things, a product of a slave system that sought to divide black people. The moment the slave master figured out he could create division by letting light-skinned slaves stay in the house and keeping the darker ones out in the field, it set forward a chain of events and attitudes among blacks that obviously remain an issue.

Not A Good Time To Be A Rapper

Let's just say that if catching cases were a college course, T.I. would be a 4.0 student.

He's that good.

His latest drama unfolded a couple of hours before BET's hip-hop awards show, in a Walgreen's parking lot. The ATF took down T.I and friends, accusing the rapper of trying to buy a machine gun and silencers through his bodyguard. Not a good situation for a guy who was convicted of distributing cocaine 10 years ago and has possession of ecstacy and numerous probation violations on his resume.

Maybe you think this is just another, young, knucklehead rapper, but trus', old cats who should have far better sense are caught up in the matrix, too. Diddy went Tyler Durden in a New York club, supposedly over an ex-girlfriend. Diddy got into an argument with Steve Acevedo -- news reports dropped the name like we should all know who that is, though I don't -- about an ex and things jumped off. Sounds like one of those situations where Ace stepped to Combs, like, "man, she said you didn't even hit that right." FIGHT! Besides, you guys know he's all emotional since him and Kim Porter broke up for the fifth time.

Anyway, what stands out to me in both cases is the poor decision making. The trauma affecting black males doesn't discriminate between old and young, rich or poor. We can play these as isolated cases, but the truth is that even the celebrity cases are a pulse point of the community at large.

T.I. fans might as well brace themselves because bruh is going to jail. For awhile. That he's been denied bail lets you know how it's laying. Police raided his home and found even more weapons. Like I said, a very big no-no for a convicted felon. My ghetto Spidey senses tell me based off the number of weapons the ATF seized from his home, that he was busted because his bodyguard was trying to buy a machine gun and silencers, it sounds like T.I. is still riding the White Horse. Or, at least selling it.

In general, I am always fascinated and frustrated by people who have grand opportunities and means, but treat it so casually. T.I has no earthly reason to have a gun. None. He has a bodyguard. He has a career. Whatever reason he has to be strapped, it's a bad reason. Especially since it's AGAINST THE LAW for him to own a weapon in the first place. If he's still in situations where he feels he needs to have a gun, he is effectively in the wrong place.

It's no different with Diddy. This man is easily worth a half a billion. Today, he is expected to turn himself into the New York police department. If you have half a bil', you and police department should only go in the same sentence if you're buying one.

They say money doesn't make you smart, but why shouldn't it? It's human instinct to protect what we don't want to lose. The two things human beings are most protective of are means and freedom, yet people with both jeopardize them routinely. If you come from a bad place and get to a good place, what is it in you that draws you back to what you most tried to escape?

"Hip-Hoppers" Don't Shoot Themselves, White Folks Do

This is why I became extremely worried when my neighbors, an elderly white couple, told me they watch Fox News "all the time."

Fox News host John Gibson was discussing the school shooting in Cleveland and because the school is majority black, Gibson wrongly assumed the perpetrator was African American. In fact, Gibson went so far as to label the shooting -- four kids were shot -- a "classic hip-hop shooting."

Ding, ding, ding! John Gibson doesn't know black people AND he's a racist.

Before even addressing the blatant racism associated with Gibson's remarks, can we have a lighthearted, keep it real moment about black people, crime and school shootings?

If Gibson knew anything about how WE DO, he should have known from jump white people were somehow involved in the Cleveland situation because it was a national news story. Black kids get shot at school all the time. Black kids are perpetrators in school shootings almost as much. But rarely does it ever generate the discussion, headlines or media onslaught that happens when whites are either victim or predator. Bands of psychologists don't appear on CNN trying to figure out what's wrong with the kids when LaRonda catches a bullet. They just figure we're animals and that's how WE DO.

It's always funny when these things happen because white folks always act in disbelief when one their own does something outside of the white success model. It's like, "No way could Little Johnnie snap and kill 34 people. I don't care how many diaries he had that said, 'I'm gonna shoot 34 people.'"

Black kids rarely shoot in spree form, anyway. Well, not like that. We might shoot up the club, but shooting up the school in this fashion just isn't how it goes down. Not to be ignorant, but we know how to target who we want to shoot. More than likely, if we shoot multiple people, all those people were the intended targets OR it's a situation where a stray bullet found some unlucky soul. Besides, much of the killing we commit is strictly a bread and meat issue. As in we have neither, so we turn to street life to get it. The constant pressure of being black far supercedes us having any psychological meltdown because we're not popular at school and kids are mean to us.

Anyway, as you might have figured out by now, the Cleveland kid who shot up the high school was white. But instead of just capsizing his ignorance for the day, Gibbons continued to spread more racist venom once he was told the shooter was white.

"Hip-hoppers do not kill themselves," Gibson said on his radio show. "They walk away. Now, I didn't need to hear the kid was white with blond hair. Once he'd shot himself in the head, no hip-hopper."

It gets better, though. Then the new Professor of Negro-ology stated:

"I know the shooter was white," Gibson said. "I knew it as soon as he shot himself. Hip-hoppers don't do that. They shoot and move on to shoot again. I know there's a few of you who want to call me racist. But when you do, remind -- let me remind you, African-Americans are dying in major cities because people won't face this problem."

Racist? Why on Earth would we ever think that you, John Gibson, noted Negro Social Scientist and Keen Observist, are a racist?

The way Gibson made it sound, it's as if packs of black folks carrying Jay Z, Nas and Fidee CDs were roving the streets and shooting people as soon as they stepped outside of their doors. Certainly black-on-black crime is an issue, but it's got more to do with the fact that fools is hungry, not because of the new Kanye cut. And before Gibson airs anymore of his views on black life, maybe he should also realize the no. 1 consumer of hip hop -- and therefore the highest number of hip hoppers -- are white kids, who like their mommies and daddies, limit their view of black people to entertainment.

Hey, but at least Gibson gave hip hop some credit. It's the downfall of America, but at least "hip hoppers" don't commit suicide. What a positive.

By the way, WTF is a "hip hopper?" And why is that when white folks have little knowledge of something associated with black culture, they come up with some cornball ass description of it?

At Fox News, it's always a treat to see white people who likely have nothing more than surface relationships with black people chime in on our issues. They are almost always wrong and almost always racist.

John Gibson is one of those "big dummies" Fred Sanford used to rail about. Whenever something like this happens, it makes me think of Ice Cube's classic CD, "America's Most Wanted," specifically that song that begins: "A message to the Oreo cookie: Here's what they think about chu..."

Did We Fail?

Kinda amped and sad right now because I just watched something powerful.

Don't know how much you all are peepin' HBO in the post-Sopranos, no-Wire (yet) era, but I just watched the documentary, Little Rock Central: 50 Years Later.

Honestly, it made me cry. It just showed in startling detail the ignorance, poverty, hopelessness, and defeatism that is gripping the black community. Most poignant statement in the documentary: "Martin Luther King Jr's dream has become a nightmare."

DAYUM.


The documentary was basically about how despite the huge advancement made by the Little Rock 9 -- the group of African-American students who integrated Little Rock Central High School in 1957 -- the high school remains segregated ecomically, socially, and of course, racially.

Black teachers and students functioning in today's Little Rock described the high school as two high schools in one. White kids make up the majority in Advanced Placement classes and student government. They dominate all the successful outlet and are taking full advantage of all the successful resources.

Meanwhile, the black students, who are on average reading nearly three grade levels behind the white students, makeup the majority of the special education classes, remedial reading and the level of apathy they feel regarding their own lives is unreal.

Sociologists and other academics have debated about whether or not poverty is a disease. I don't think there is any question that it is. I grew up poor, on welfare and was raised by a single mother who did what she had to do to get food on the table.

The only reason I didn't wind up like some of the kids featured in this HBO documentary is, despite our sometimes grim financial circumstances, my mother refused to allow poverty to chip away our pride and self respect.

Unfortunately, that isn't happening in most poor black communities. Poverty has seized the self-esteem, ambition, drive, pride and respect of the people, turning them into lifeless, hopeless beings that promote failure and mediocrity at every turn. Kids no longer desire to leave their situations behind, but to stay in them and raise future generations that behave just like them. During this one telling moment in the documentary, one of the few black girls in the AP classes said that most of her friends wouldn't even take the AP test or investigate taking AP classes because they associated moving up to AP as leaving their own behind.

"You stay where you're comfortable," she said.

This documentary reminded me of a study done not long about the differing levels of self esteem between black and white kids. Of course, the disparity was amazing. Black kids don't feel that good about themselves, and white kids do. And, why should black kids feel any differently? Mass media has convinced them their only worth is entertainment or sports. A white person that flips on the TV sees they can be anything they want to be, from drug dealer to doctor to university professor.

I know I'm rambling here, but over the last few years I've really started to question whether integration was a good idea. When black people were forced to operate and live among our own, there was a deeper sense of harmony, racial pride and respect. We were all we had, so we had to get along.

Now that we are consumed with fitting in and attaining success in the mainstream, our values are displaced, we routinely sell out our own to acquire material things that are idolized by the mainstream, and the racial pride we once thrived on is no longer there. Our picture of success is a mainstream picture, whereas it used to be a community one.

So I have to ask: Did We Fail?

Tiki To Black Women: I Really Ain't Feelin' Y'all

Call me paranoid, but I'm always somewhat leery if a black man makes a production out of being with a non-black woman.

It's not that I have a problem with interracial dating, but I do find it odd when a black man, in subtle and not-so subtle ways, announces: HEY Y'ALL, I REALLY DON'T LIKE BLACK WOMEN.

Tiki Barber, pro football player turned pundit, told Wendy Williams he ain't feeling the sistahs.

Well, sort of. Tiki is married to an Asian woman, and when Wendy, the notorious gossip hound, ribbed him about it, Tiki tried to 'splain himself by saying that where he grew up there wasn't a lot of black women. You know, the whole, they-weren't-around-so-I-had-no-idea-what-I-was-missing argument.

There is just one, teensy, tiny problem: Roanoke, where Tiki grew up, is 25 percent black.

Now, I got no problem with Tiki for who he's married to, but he sure seems to have a problem with it. If he didn't want to date black women, he just didn't. That's his choice. But if you are going to marry outside of your race, you don't need to make a show of justifying it. If you are, that only communicates to me that deep down in those places you won't talk about, you feel a little bit guilty about your choice of mate.

During this interview with Wendy, Tiki went on to try to "prove his blackness," by telling her his Swahili name. He also made sure to mention he was married to an Asian woman, that way Wendy and the rest of the black folks listening could see that while he wasn't married to someone who was black, he was at least still dabbling in the minority family.

Thanks, Tik-ster, we needed that. Now when we all convene for the next Fate of Black People annual meeting, we will be sure to take you off the sellout list.

Not Quite Done With This One Yet

You know, I thought I was done with Isiah v. Anucha, but a conversation with my girl, Show, made me realize I had some excess feelings about this case.

In case you hadn't heard, Anucha whupped Isiah in court, costing the Knicks about $12 milllion. Hey, for $12 mil, a brotha can pinch me on the ass, call me this, that and the otha, tell me HO WHERE DA REPORT AT...but cut that check.

I THINK I'm kidding.

Anyway, what this case has brought to light is the sexism that remains a vibrant force in the black community. So many black men think that Isiah was railroaded, that Anucha should have just taken one for the team, and don't understand one of Isiah's most egregious errors was trying to run the executive office of the most storied franchises like Re-Ro's Chicken Shack.

There seems to be this unwritten code in the black community that says black women should accept subpar treatment from black men when it furthers "the race." If a black woman has to be harassed on her job on a daily basis so this foolish black man can stay in power, then so be it.

A lot of black men also believe calling black women certain things and relating to them in a frank, sexual manner is just "how we do." We are officially keeping it wrong. Damn that Isiah was inappropriate and unprofessional, Anucha should have given him a free pass because he was black.

For real?

Black folks desperately need to confront our "free pass" mentality. We've gone through a lot in this nation and outside of it, and because we have, we seem to think that we should be able to get away with whatever. We should be allowed to be disrespectful, immoral, tasteless and crude because .... well, the white people are.

The SO (Significant Other) brought up a very salient point when we were discussing this issue at length.

"Why do black people always bitch about how the white man is treated but as soon as we get into trouble we want to bitch even more because we're not treated like them?" he asked.

Good question. As a people, we rail about inequalities and inequities, yet we are equally offended if we are not put in a position where we can benefit from inequality and inequity. We know the damage inequality and inequity does, so why are we forever trying to profit from it?

As for Isiah v. Anucha, instead of asking why she's trying to "bring down" a powerful black man, why aren't black folks pummeling Isiah for trying to "bring down" a sista? They're both black people who have become very successful in their respective fields. No doubt that she has had to go through as much, if not more, than Isiah to gain entrance into a New York boardroom. So what makes Isiah's experience and accomplishments worthy of protecting, but not hers?

A lot of black pundits and black people have been silent about Isiah's wrongdoing because they don't want to "go after" the brotha. Meanwhile, this sister has felt little support from her own community and she's THE VICTIM.

On another topic, yet still related, Isiah v. Anucha sort of picks at the black cultural issue of how black men and women relate to another overall.

Too many black men feel as if it's OK to disrespect black women. All day long, black men are innudated with images of black women acting ho-ish in videos, they are innudated with songs that celebrate demonizing and degrading black women, and this directly coincides with how black men approach and talk to black women out in the street.

I can't tell you the number of times that a black man, thinking he was being cute, has said something overly-sexual and out of pocket upon first approach. Grabbing your ass in the club. Telling you they want to have sex with you before they can even find out your last name. Dry-humping you on a dance.

Black men have been programmed to be sexually aggressive. And unfortunately, black women have been taught to respond and accept that aggressiveness.

All of this is embroiled in the Isiah v. Anucha dynamic. It's a teaching tool. Wish we'd learn from it.

So Fresh, So Classy, So White

I'm not one for epic blogs like my boy, but I promise you that this one is going to be huge.

I've spent about 18 or so hours of the last three days getting my hair done. Seriously, the hair experience alone is worth me praying that if there is such thing as reincarnation, I am coming back as a white girl. Black women are guaranteed a dramatic, ridiculous experience every time we get our hair done.

Let me introduce you to my braider, Fatou, a 28-year-old Sengalese woman who has been in the U.S. roughly five years. She's a braider, who works in her sister's shop. Her sister basically treats her like a remixed indentured servant, which is how I wound up feeling like I was in the middle of a heist when I was just trying to get the re-up on the braids.

The Caper

Let me tell you something about black women and hair. We will go through a fire-breathing dragon, 12 pits, four witches, a gang of curses and 10 boiled snakes to get the wig tight. I've never had a hairdresser lacking in drama. We know the tighter the 'do, the more drama we must experience.

So, Fatou's sister was going out of town for four days, and Fatou decided this was a perfect time for financial emancipation. She hit me with a deal. She'd discount my normal braid free in exchange for a little deception. While her sister was away, she was going to do my hair on the sneak, pocket the money and her sister would be none the wiser.

The Reality: The Caper Brangs The Drama

I decided to go along with Fatou. I went to get my braids taken down, like normal. Fatou's sister was there, but I played it off like I didn't want a re-up. But me and Fatou already had made our backwater deal to meet up after her sister was gone out of town.

Now, Fatou has been in the country for about five years. Her husband is a cab driver in New York City and he has no immediate plans to move to Da O. My guess is that Fatou's husband is prolly in New York straight WILIN'. Meanwhile, she's in Da O, taking care of their 5-month-old. She also has another kid back in Senegal. I'm not sure if that's his, but I'm going to guess it is.

Hopefully, you understand the characters properly -- Fatou, the Side Hustler; Evil Sister, and me, the innocent customer who just wants her naps to go on vacation.

Now, any black woman knows that the hair deal is never as good as they say, or as uncomplicated. Fatou had it set up, but there were unexpected twists. Day One:

- I had to give her a ride home after she unbraided my hair. She said she lived down the street. So 20 minutes later, we're in the car, still driving....

- Like I said, she's got a 5-month-old. And whenever lil' girl senses mommy's on a groove with my hair, she starts crying like Brittany Spears is her momma. Trick loves the kids, but I was ticked because lil' girl seemed to know to cry at Defcon 1 whenever Fatou did about five or six braids in a row.

And, to think, we haven't even gotten to the meat of this tale.

"You So White"

It's Sunday morning. Day Three of me, Fatou and my hair. On Day Two, Fatou, braided for four hours. She made a reasonable amount of progress considering her baby cried every 10 minutes, and her phone rang every three minutes.

Didn't mention this, but after she braided my hair and needed that ride home, she begged me to stop at a party store, where she decided to buy about $100 worth of calling cards. Those calling cards would be a key factor in the slow nature of the job.

Anyway, Sunday was our final day together. Thank goodness. But Fatou decides she's going to open up and explain the world as she sees it. She's going to play Cornel West as she's braiding my hair.

"You so white," she told me.

Fatou didn't mean it as an insult. She meant it as a compliment. That's the rub. She said I was "classy" and "different." I asked her what she meant. Apparently, she had developed quite the picture of African Americans in the last five years.

She said we were "mean," and mistreated African people.

"You not ghetto," she said.

She explained how most African Americans she knew didn't have their degree, acted classless and it was clear she equated a picture of success with white folks.

She told me I talked white and "acted" white. First time I ever got that. I'm from the D. I didn't befriend a white person until I got to college. Yet Fatou seemed generally amazed that I knew how to behave, which made me think about a whole lot of things.

Whenever people want to have one of those who-has-it-worse convesations, this is an example that brings home the worldwide discrimination and stereotyping African Americans face.

All around the world, black people are universally thought to be trash. The world has learned that black people are less than. Fatou's picture of us was formed before she got here, and it was cemented once she lived here. Which begs an important question:

Does perception make reality or does reality make perception?

That is not to say I perceive African Americans to be unsuccessful. That is to say I believe the stereotype of us is that we are lazy, ignorant and excessive. If you think about it, that's hilarious considering the U.S. was built on our sweat. I mean, let's be real, you don't enslave people who are lazy.

"I do not get why black people here don't understand that the strongest were brought here, not the weakest," Fatou said.

Her comments were more intriguing to me, particularly after O'Reilly and that wench Adrianne Curry explained how low they thought us to be. Fatou, an African, sees us the same way. Like, O'Reilly, she would be shocked if she went somewhere and didn't see us shooting one another or acting disrespectful. Her braiding shop is right where there are a heavy concentration of black folks and all her clientele -- both on the sly and on the books -- is black. Makes you think.

Guns and Butter

Fatou asked me if I had ever been to a foreign country, and she was extremely surrpised that I had been to four different countries. Remember, her picture of black Americans is a tiny one. The thought of us traveling abroad is quite stunning. She thinks all we do is overdose on chicken and rims.

She told me in Senegal that her people believe American streets are "paved with money." Many urban myths exist about America. She sees the irony in that because, apparently, Americans like to invent what they think her homeland is like.

'They ask me about jungles," she said, while on cornrow 155. "I've never even seen one."

She said her home looks a lot like the one she's in. Big shock: Africa isn't just about jungles, blood diamonds and loin cloths.

What was funny to me is that she scoffed at the stereotypes of her homeland, but saw no problem creating one for the black folks in the U.S. I explained to her that African Americans had been conditioned to believe that Africans didn't like us. We are told most Africans think we are a disgrace because we squander financial and educational opportunities. I can't disagree, but I also think that's an incomplete picture.

Ok, so after the philosophical discussion, after the braids were finally done -- about 9 1/2 hours altogether -- she asked me to take her for groceries.

Say what?

Each one, teach one or Screw you?

So I had a huge dilemma: Fatou doesn't have a car. She's got a 5-month-old. She's making money behind her sister's back.

The Christian side warred with my evil, American side, which said, screw you, braid lady. I've had to put up with your crying-ass baby, nagging-ass African friends and relatives, and stereotypes about my folks. If you needed bread that badly, you should have thought about it before.

But I got to thinking: When you need help, you just wish to God somebody would do it out of the kindness of your heart. Fact is, I've been blessed. I have had people help me. And the greatest form of help comes when you have no earthly idea why you deserved it. Taking her to the market -- and I had to go too -- wasn't going to put me out my way. The only reason I wouldn't have done it is to punish her for taking damn near 10 hours on my hair. Should she have been more professional? Hells yeah. Should she have given me an even bigger discount? Hells yeah.

But my shit did look tight when it was done. Can't forget that.

But I wanted to get home, watch my Sunday Ticket, have a few brews and bitch about my fantasy team. Nowhere in there was it room to help an African mother get bread for the night.

And so....

I did it anyway. I took Fatou to the market. She got her bread. I got my Sam Adams. I was annoyed. The entire way there I was thinking about what a huge sucker I was. But you know what? After the market, when I dropped her off, I felt good. I felt good because I helped someone who needed it. I helped someone when it didn't benefit me whatsoever.

"God will bless you. You sweet," Fatou said.

That's not why I did it, but if it happens, I'm not going to give the blessing back. I did it just because I didn't want to do it. I did it because, in a silly way, I felt like I was changing her view of what she thought us to be. It was worth it.

Adrianne Curry and Bill O'Reilly: Doing Their Part To Ease Racial Tension

It doesn't surprise me at all that Adrianne Curry, Top Model alum, is a real dumbass.

She isn't bright, as evidenced by the fact she married Peter Brady. When she was on America's Next Top Model, it was obvious that book smarts and common sense were foreign to her.

Now, she's in hot water because *SURPRISE!* she let loose a torrent of horribly ignorant statements about black folks on her myspace page. I'll give you a sample:

"Black people were slaves here once. You know what? That does suck some major balls, however, it is time to move the fuck on. So, I will no longer tune into BET. This is going to suck, but I do NOT like the idea of having a channel for only 1 race. In the year 2007 in a country that is supposed to be the most advanced and equal. This is unexceptable."

(You can peep the rest of this dumb broad's ramblings here)

No, what's unacceptable is that this heffa is a reality-show reject whose brain is probably half-dead from all the diet pills and numerous times she's stuck her finger down her throat. OK, that was mean.

I wish I could say this is the first time I've confronted such ignorant sentiments. It always amuses me how people who have little-to-no knowledge of history, culture or other races often want to chime in about racism like they're real "expert."

More than likely, her only exposure to black people is through BET and maybe a couple of the black people she met on the Top Model show. Just because minorities grow up in your orbit, doesn't mean you know shit about them.

Obviously, this broad is too stupid to realize that NBC, ABC, HBO, and pretty much most channels with the exception of TV One and BET are dedicated to "1 race"....um, the white race. I have no doubt she would never tell someone Jewish to "get over the Holocaust"...which is a whole 'otha rant I have. Nobody greets talking about or learning about the Holocaust with any resistance whatsoever, but bring up slavery and you will see eyes rolling, teeth sucking and a general exasperation. This isn't a game of who-had-it-worst, but the fact of the matter is slavery occurred on U.S. soil. The Holocaust did not. So the legacy of slavery is sharper and more intact for African Americans. The healing that needs to take place from that is still incomplete.

Anyway, I wish what the idiot-ass model said was the stupidest thing I heard all week. Unfortunately, Fox News guru/race baiter Bill O'Reilly successfully competed with Idiot Model for the Clueless White People award.

O'Reilly recently dipped his head into black culture. He ate dinner with Al Sharpton at Sylvia's in Harlem, which some consider a legendary soul food spot, and he went to an Anita Baker concert. Now before I get into what this fool said about his experiences with "us"...can you picture O'Reilly at an Anita Baker concert? Maybe it's because he's soul-less and evil, but can you picture O'Reilly swaying and singing along to "Caught Up In The Rapture" or "Soul's Inspiration?" Hells naw.

Anyway, this is what O'Reilly had to say about his Nigro experience:

"There wasn't one person in Sylvia's who was screaming, 'MF-er, I want more iced tea.' You know, I mean, everybody was -- it was like going into an Italian restaurant in an all-white suburb in the sense of people were sitting there, and they were ordering and having fun. And there wasn't any kind of craziness at all."

(Go here for more of this ignorance.)

Imagine that, Bill. No bullets. Gold teeth. Black men yelling, "ey, yo, bitch, bring me some of 'dem hamhocks." He also expressed amazement that at Anita Baker's concert there men dressed in tuxedos and black people GASP behaving with class. Because shootings always occur at a Jean Luc Ponty, Baker or Patti Labelle gig.

Is he fucking serious?

That's some of the most racist rhetoric I ever heard come out anyone's mouth. I'm sure, for Bill, seeing black people behave appropriately was akin to catching the Holy Ghost. Now this fucker might have to change some of his race-baiting ways, since he's always using the most racially-charged language to connect with a disconnected white audience whose only brush with the Nigra community comes from watching his half-baked, racist-ass show.

This sort of leads me into discussing BET's hip-hop town hall meeting on Tuesday, which I must say was impressive overall. Bill's racist rhetoric only makes it more important that black people in entertainment be more morally responsible about the images they put out concerning black people.

Of course, there will always be a Bill O' Reilly somewhere in America. A lot of white people have no desire to know Nigras on a deeper level and are more than happy to derive their concept of blackness from 50 Cent, Soul Plane and Mo'Nique. But black culture has never been this mainstream before. White kids bump hip hop harder than any group in America. Hip hop is worldwide. So the music that was just for "us" about "us" is being put into the atmosphere in a whole different way.

I know I'm getting off on a tangent here, but black folks need to understand that our image is a precious thing. A lot of rappers and other entertainers are nothing more than modern-day minstrel coons, no better than Man Tan. The reason white kids eat up hip hop is because they constantly peddle a false identity of what we're really about, but it's so easy for white folks to believe. They believe we're all like Lil' Wayne and Trina. That's what they think. So it becomes a very vicious cycle. We put out ignorant shit, and they eat it up like it's Trix.

But if we do that, we can't bitch and complain about being stereotyped when so many of us are content to make fast and easy money off bullshit.

Neverthless, it's no excuse for the small minded-ness of Curry and O' Reilly. They might as well be wearing hoods.

Thank You Tom Joyner, Master Of The Obvious

I hate to clown a woman of God, but this is some funny-ass shit.

In case you hadn't heard or forgot, Bynum, a renown televangelist was beaten up by her husband, 54-year-old bishop Thomas Weeks.

Women getting Marvin Hagler-ed by their husbands is not funny, dammit. But you had to feel bad for Bynum because a) she's been through a terrible struggle with men, which part of her ministry, and b) she refers to herself as PROPHETESS Juanita Bynum.

Now, when you have Prophetess before your name, that would imply you posess a sense of discernment. That means you can see things before they happen. It means you can foreshadow.

So Tom Joyner wanted to know one thing:

Uh, Prophetess, God couldn't hook you up with a smoke signal to let you know about the right hook?

Don't MAKE ME ASK AGAIN: HO, Where Da Reports At?

I fully admit I'm an ignorant individual. Even during the most serious cases, I'm going to see the humor of things.

Now, I have been getting my giggle on about Anucha Browne Sanders vs. The New York Knicks. I don't know how much you've paid attention to the trial, but I can tell you that it is Exhibit A of what happens when secretly ghetto people are put on the witness stand.

And I use the term "secretly ghetto" because, in terms of finances, Isiah Thomas, who Browne Sanders claimed was inappropriate with her on numerous levels, has made it. He's an executive in one of the most storied franchises in the NBA. He's a millionaire several times over. He's one of the 50 greatest players.

But, he's still 'hood.

According to Browne Sanders, 'Zeke called her bitches and ho's in meetings and just about everywhere else. Yeah, he tried to get the booty, too. But homegirl wasn't down and it made for some real awkwardness.

Her description of the events are sad, but there is definitely a strain of comedy. According to Browne Sanders, a work interaction with Zeke went something like this:

ZEKE: BITCH, WHERE 'DEM QUARTERLY REPORTS AT?

BROWNE SANDERS: Uh, uh...

ZEKE: I SWEAR FO' GOD IF I HAVE TO ASK YO BLACK ASS AGAIN...WHAT DID THE FIVE FINGERS SAY TO THE FACE, BITCH? HUH? HUH?

Browne Sanders made it sound like she was working for a cross between Ike Turner and Max Julian. Browne Sanders was getting hit with so many bitches and ho's, between Zeke and point guard Stephon Marbury, I'm surprised her name tag didn't just read: Bitch.

Stephon Marbury was the wrong person to take the witness stand. Again, this is what happens when ghetto folks get under oath. First, Steph admitted he banged an intern outside a strip club -- the same intern that his cousin broke off. By the way, Steph is married and I'm sure every divorce lawyer in town called Steph's wife after he revealed that in testimony. Next, Steph admitted he didn't call Anucha a "black bitch," but he did probably call her a regular ol' bitch. You stay classy, Steph.

(Real quick, concerning Steph: I'm starting to think he has a drug problem. Here's why.)

Zeke didn't do himself any favors in testimony either. According to him, if a white man calls a sista a bitch, dem is fighting words. But if a black man does it, it's not "as bad."

Memo to NY Knicks: Be thinking of a number and settle out of court.

What About That White-Skin Privilege, Tho'?

During the Don Imus furor you all probably didn't catch Talib Kweli on the Today Show. I'll recap:

This, of course, was when the conversation somehow shifted from Imus being a racist fossil to what's wrong with hip hop. At least The Today Show had someone intelligent and thoughtful like Talib, who was joined by Tavis Smiley and Cornel West.

Talib uttered one sentence while West, Smiley and the host were discussing a myriad of issues related to hip hop, black folks and decency.

"What about that white-skin privilege, tho'?"

Yeah, nobody really wants to talk about that because it's a harder, layered, more difficult conversation. But one thing I've noticed about the '07 racism -- and you have to shout it out by year because it changes just that frequently -- is that racism these days is likely worse than it was when black folks had not a right to speak of.

Think I'm lying? Consider the following:

- Six white West Virginians decide it's rape, torture, and brutalize a black woman week. This is absolutely sick. The lowlight: A young, black woman is kidnapped and tortured for a week. She is forced to eat dog and rat feces and drink out of toilet.

- Jena, Louisiana, where the city motto is: We Have Never Heard Of The Emancipation Proclamation. In this small, retro-Jim Crow town, there has been a slew of disturbing racial incidents. The culmination of these events was when a group of black teenagers got into a fight with a white schoolmate. They were charged with ATTEMPTED MURDER and faced 100 years in prison. Because of pressure from the media, Al Sharpton and various other Civil Rights leader, the charges have been reduced. But they still carry a maximum penalty of 22 years. For. A. Fight. A fight, I might add, in which the white victim was well enough to go to a school function afterward.

- If you're white and legally stupid, a judge will deem it's OK for you to kill a young, black child. A 13-year-old black boy was killed outside Orlando in a hit-and-run accident. The driver, who is white, eluded police for several days and replaced the parts on his car, showing his guilt. But a punk-ass judge gave him one year in prison instead of the maximum of 25, saying he was too dumb to know what he was doing. The murderer has an IQ of 75, which might show he's a moron, but he's not legally retarded. And apparently, he was smart enough to know he would go to jail for what he did, WHICH IS WHY HE COVERED IT UP.

My overall point is, these incidents aren't exceptions. I wish they were. But attitudes toward black people are just as negative as they were during pre-Civil Rights. It seems as if we are regressing back to the time where racism was blatant.

Don't get me wrong, black folks need to get their shit together in a lot of ways. We are, in many ways, our own worst enemy. But it's amazing to see how black folks worldwide are still considered less than a person. A friend and I were talking recently about how negativity toward black folks crosses all cultures. Africans think African Americans are lazy, uncivilized dregs. Many Latinos believe they are better than us, more hard-working and honest. You go to Germany, Italy, etc., and dark skin is still considered very threatening.

It saddens me that my children, their children and their children won't see the end of racism. I wish I had the naivete of some white folks, who believe racism ended with the last verse of "We Shall Overcome." Unfortunately, racism seems to replenish, grow stronger with each generation. Now the '07 racism is blaming black folks for the institutional racism that existed for more than 400 years.

When will it end?