Y'All Ain't Gon' Believe This Shit, Part Two

Before I get into the meat of this story: FUCK SPRINT. FUCK RADIO SHACK.

It's officially 12:37 p.m., and I've got no cellphone, thanks to the numbnuts at both companies.

Long story, made even longer: I went into Radio Shack yesterday to buy Sprint's new Touch phone, which is their answer to the iPhone. Pretty sweet-ass phone.

I arrive at Radio Shack around 7:30 p.m, Tuesday night. I pick out the phone, go through the paperwork, and it turns out I'm eligible for $75 off on this phone. Cool. I get rung up and have one foot out the door when Radio Shack sales clerk tells me we have a problem.

The proper eligibility code didn't ring up on their computer, which would allow me to receive the $75.

OK, I don't speak Radio Shack-ese, so I'm looking at him like he just said something in Swahili. Sales Clerk, a pudgy looking gay-ish guy, explains he must call Sprint and get the proper code so that I may be properly credited for this purchase.

45 minutes later -- no bullshit -- he thinks he's got the proper code. He doesn't. He calls back again. 45 minutes later -- which means I have now been in this fuck-ass store for damn near THREE HOURS trying to spend MY MONEY -- he basically doesn't know what the fuck to do.

Let me give you a little background about Sprint's customer service in case you don't know. It's shitty. This is the same company who announced a few months ago that customers who call and complain too much would have their contracts terminateD. Basically, they're on some miss-a-step-today, you'll-be-frying-fish tomorrow shit. Complain one extra time, and they're doing you like Suge Knight did Vanilla Ice.

At this point, I'm frustrated and pissed, but trying to remain somewhat professional. I don't want to give the white folks what they want, which is to see me go from Zero to Rashida. I'm trying to handle this like an adult, but still get across that this bullshit is acceptable.

I called Sprint myself. An hour later -- meaning I had now been in this store DAMN NEAR FOUR HOURS -- Sprint decides you know what? Fuck a code. We'll just send you the phone ourselves. They gave me some credit, upped my rebate and tried to somewhat makeup for the inconvenience. Although, the insulting part was, while I'm boiling about this bullshit, the ho' ass Sprint operator tried to sell me some shit. I'm like, BITCH, now ain't the time for you to be telling me about buying unlimited Internet access. If I had a fucking bomb, I'd plant that shit right at Sprint headquarters, and now you wanna talk to me about some trivial bullshit I can add for an extra $60 a month?

FUCK SPRINT.

At this point, FOUR HOURS LATER, I'm thinking the problem has basically been solved. Nuh-uh. Gay Pudgy Boy tries to switch me back on my original phone (the same phone I walked into the store with), and is finding that the "system" -- this ol' Coleco-bullshit-ass-Pac-Man-throwback computer they got up in Radio Shack -- isn't allowing them to. After another 45 minute phone call to Sprint -- WE'RE ON FIVE FUCKING HOURS NOW -- it's determined that ain't shit gon' happen. I had to leave my phone at Radio Shack, and basically deal with that shit the next day.

Now, the next day is here, I still don't have a fucking phone. My account is showing I purchased two phones, which is completely incorrect. You would think in situations like these muahfuckas at Radio Shack are trying to offer me new DVD players, a free subscription to Maxim, some Kleenex, some Now-Laters -- just something that would make me feel better about having wasted about nine hours of my life trying to get a phone from their punk ass store. Nuh-uh.

Well, Sprint and Radio Shack, I'm well past a Rashida-level of anger. I'm officially on some shit with a prefix and an apostrophe, a La' Princia or some shit. I'm on some, where the fuck is my blade? I'm on some, it ain't nothing between but space and opportunity. I'm on some, whip dat ass like Ike did Tina when she didn't hit that note right in the second verse.

FUCK SPRINT.
FUCK RADIO SHACK.

Young, White Death

They still don't know what killed Heath Ledger, who died suddenly of something last week in his New York City apartment. It's always sad to see someone die so young, but the inconclusiveness of the autopsy only adds to the despair that his friends and family feel.

But me being the ghetto, militant philosopher that I am, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out how differently young, white death is portrayed vs. young, black death. Or, black death period

When young, white folks die, whether it's accidental or purposeful, their deaths always are romanticized. You ever notice that? White folks can clown Nigros for their refusal to let Tupac go, but dammit if they don't treat Kurt Cobain like his grungy-ass is on a $20 bill. People act like Cobain's death was somehow an accident, but he chose to check out. He is treated as a hero. It's certainly tragic he took his own life, but like 'Pac, he became an icon once he died. Nirvana was good, but if Cobain hadn't committed suicide, they would have been considered a good, not great rock band.

I call this the Al Gore Phenomenon. Best thing that ever happened to Al Gore was losing the presidential election to Dubya. The country went to shit, and because of that plus the shady circumstances that surrounded Bush's victory, there always will be an assumption that Gore would have been a great president. We don't know that for sure, even though I like Al Gore and respect him. But we have to assume 9-11 still would have happened and while I consider Gore a rational, peaceful man, the country wanted a swift response, even if it wasn't aimed in the right direction. It's easy to say Gore's principles are above involving us in a pointless, shady war. But one thing we know about politicians is that they all have doctorates in covering their own ass. How do we know that an astute Gore wouldn't have involved us in a war just to guarantee a second term?

Now, Gore not only gets the benefit of the what-if, but he also gets to armchair quarterback. He also gets to speak his mind about issues I'm not sure he would have been so strong about if were president. Gore isn't held hostage by special interest groups the way the president is, so he can make a documentary about how we're killing the environment. Maybe I'm being a cynic, but if he were in office, that documentary never gets made and I doubt if he accomplishes anything that brings us closer to protecting the environment. So I'm not convinced Cobain would be considered this great rocker if he were alive. For all we know, Smells Like Teen Spirit might have been the last, significant hit Nirvana had.

Anyway, when black people die, there always is this underlying current that we were complicit in our own death. Even if we weren't. Just look at the first few days of the Sean Taylor coverage. If Heath Ledger would have gotten shot, nobody would dare say he did something to deserve it, but a lot of people had no problem drawing that conclusion about Taylor, who it turns out was killed by some opportunistic punks. Even though Aaliyah died in a plane crash -- one of the most unpredictable deaths that could ever occur -- how much luggage she had on the small plane became a huge issue. Of course, it's apart of the story, but the coverage took a dramatic turn and made it seem as if she hadn't had that Louis Vuitton bag, she would have lived. Ike Turner recently died of a cocaine overdose, and in no way was his story romanticized. If you think I'm being paranoid, just watch what happens when Keith Richards finally dies. My point will be made. Black death always is seen as something that's deserved. White death is always viewed as the opposite. The insinuation seems to be, how dare someone this fine, white citizen leave this Earth?

If it turns out that Heath Ledger was someone at fault for his own death, it's not going to change how his story is covered. He's been established as a tragic figure. He was a good actor, but I wouldn't be surprised if acting skills all of a sudden get put on Robert Deniro's level.

I could get into a whole militaristic rant, but my main issue is being tired of seeing black deaths marginalized. Heath Ledger's death was a tragedy because he leaves behind a little girl. No matter the circumstances, he was made human. That's all anyone deserves.

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.