Moments in Irkdom: Making Tragic Realizations about Your Own Life in Public

This morning, while at work I was thinking about the word subsides, which triggered the song "Sometimes When We Touch" as I recalled the lyrics to that song, a memory was trigger about an experience I had in High school.

For some strange reason my school decided to treat us all to a "rock concert" in the auditorium. For the remote possibility someone has ever heard of this band or that the band is still together, I will refer to them by the code name Palace. Well Palace took the stage and they did not have the cool appearance of a traditional rock band they wore neat jeans with lumberjack shirts which may have been tucked in. They started to play and after about a song and a half it was evident to nearly everyone in the room that this band was not going to be very good. Students began to boo a bit and some of the administrators tried to quell the disruptors to no avail. Then as if they come to the realization that the band deserved no defense or maybe they just knew their cause was lost they stopped chiding the hecklers. Then came overwhelming boos and hissing.

The crowd was pissed. We had been duped. We though we were going to get a quality school concert instead we got Palace, an incoherent, under talented, unenthusiastic excuse for music. Well... after a while the crowds disapproval was painfully obvious, something had to be done. The lead singer intervened and began to give the "hey this is cool but its not cool speech." You know, Hey guys I'm cool I know that your upset and you should be able to say what you feel because that's cool. The only problem is your disrespecting me and my life's work and that's not cool. NOT COOL MAN! then half way through it, he just stopped then went back to his place in the band and halfheartedly sang one more song then they, slumped shoulders, slowly walked off the stage.

I feel like that was the first time Palace considered the idea that they weren't very good. Tragic.


This is a tale about the lack of honest introspection within a whole group of people. They were not young they were not previously successful. They were not talented. Why were they still trying to pull it off? They should have been honest with themselves even if all of their friends and family told them they were great. Since they were not it got messy and it got messy in public. You want me to feel sorry for them but I just can't. You feel me?

When Men Were Men Revisit

After further inspection "Rock Steady" may have been the first date rape or at least the first sexual coercion song I ever heard.

Hanging In There: The Social Etiquette of Grieving

Funerals are not particularly for the dead. The last time I checked, no dead person ever stood up and applauded at the end of his own funeral. No, funerals are very much for the living. They are like the first step in a right of passage into a new world that exists without our loved one. Right? I recently went to a funeral of a loved one whom I adored, and I realized one fact about funerals: It’s not ok to grieve. What I mean by that is; some grieve outwardly, and some inwardly, but there is only one method of “acceptable grief” that can be displayed at funerals. If you are too expressive, you are being dramatic, but you can’t be too stoic either; people will think you don’t care. You have to cry just enough so people will know that you are holding something back and “being tough” or “hanging in there.”
My funeral experience is a tale of funeral etiquette at its finest. As I looked around, there were people on both sides of the spectrum, no one going overboard, and a few people with forced sad looks. Most of all, family members were just trying to “be strong,” including me. One widely used sadness-eradicating funeral mantra asserted, “this is not a funeral, this is a celebration!” So, I couldn't be too sad because it would bring down the mood. Bring down the mood? What? It’s a damn funeral! A person whom I truly loved is gone. Dead. Finished. I will never see them again. There’s no coming back from that. There are lots of emotions that I think I am supposed to feel at a time like this, but celebratory is not one of them. Sure, we should honor the accomplishments that the person made in life, be thankful that they are no longer suffering, and appreciate the good things about the person, yada yada yada. But should I feel like I’m doing something wrong by being sad in the presence of others?
I mean, God forbid those others see me expressing my emotion so that it doesn’t build up inside, wreaking havoc on my mind and body, and decide that they want to do the same! Oh no! We can’t have that, now can we? Emotions must be expressed in the short run so that they don’t build up and take over in the long run. Anyone who’s ever found themselves crying over the ostracism experienced by the cavemen in the GEICO commercials knows that. And yes, even if you are religious and believe in an afterlife, you are still entitled to feel sad. I mean, hopefully for you, it will be a hell of a long time before you see that person again. There needs to be a cultural shift in our perspectives on of acceptable funeral behavior. No matter how sad or content you feel, it's ok. We must break free from the chains of pressure to be “strong,” or to fit into others' expectations for our grief. We should learn to grieve out of the box.

The Story of Milo

In brief, his story goes as following. Milo wanted to get stronger: Milo decided to lift a calf onto his shoulders everyday. As the calf grew Milo needed more force to lift the calf. Eventually the calf became a full grown steer and Milo could lift it onto his back.

Aside from being an inspiring power lifting allusion, it describes how adaptable the human state is. If you convince your body or your mind that it has to do something, it will. Further, if you commit yourself to increasing the expectations you have for yourself eventually you can do the unimaginable.

There is an innate voice that tells us to impose limitations on ourselves and this mechanism is often protective but I think the people in this world who have learned to ignore this voice are the ones who are truly able to achieve greatness.

where did that come from? I'm not sure but you can insert any great person's story here to make it sensible.

The Big Switch (pun not intended)

Did you ever notice the subtle transition in modern thug culture? Okay maybe it's not too subtle when you recall the hyper masculine thuglife culture and juxtapose it with the current homo-social anti-woman "fashion" charged rap culture of today.

Let's compare to popular rap artist.

Tupac: aside from his politically charged rhetoric in albums like NIGGA and Don Killuminati, This man made powerful music that reflected the needs of the people. He created a classic tribute to his mother and wrote "Wonder why they call you B*tch" which actually is a compassionate plea to women who, in his opinion were misguided. He wrote angry works which targeted the individuals who broke the code like, "Against all Odds."

Gucci Mane: First of all this character actually calls himself, Gucci. How is that gangsta? He has footage of himself punching a woman in the face on the web for getting too close to him during a performance. The crux of his body of work is that he has diamonds and Fancy clothing. That's nice for you sir but why am I interested?

Okay maybe I'm getting a little older and my tastes aren't evolving as fast as the world around me. And maybe I've heard a Versace allusion or two in Pac's work. Perhaps Pac had even made a misogynistic statement or two in his time but come on. Where is the substance of this new thug movement? Are we killing ourselves and one another so that we can wear diamonds and furs? is it realy that interesting to know what you wore to the club last night? Are we to believe the new role for women is a plaything to be passed like a blunt? Do we show our care for them by buying things instaed of creating a stable enviornment for the families that we make with them? What's the fascination with runniong a train? (two or more men have sex with a woman, so you can have sex with your homeboys without having sex with your homeboys) I've probably said too much. Do you feel me?

P.S.

Gucci Mane is 5 years younger than Tupac and Pac has been dead for over a decade so let's not start talking about him getting better with age

The New Danger

So as America wages a new global war on terror, (yes, I know I'm somewhat late on this one) what about the domestic front? The very thing that scares Americans more than anything else in the world is not the fear that people will invade our cities or that extremest rhetoric will overtake the minds of our young.

No.

What Americans fear the most is that we will have to spend only the money that we earn or only purchase things that we need.

The faltering economy can, in part be blamed on individuals like Mr. Sullivan who lead AIG to nearly collapse leading Americans to pay for its restoration. Further, as a result of our faltering financial institutions we are forced to tighten our belts in response.

Americans are still afraid. If we really want to send out a message to those extremist about how pure democracy is and how well it works, we must make an example of our own domestic terrorists. In the coming days I urge you all to send letters to the Obama administration to root out these terrorists, find them in their multimillion dollar caves bomb their villages and take prisoners when needed. hold them in cells and with the same regard as Shabaab and Al-queda I guarantee that Americans would feel freer than ever, the economy would rebound and these peasants would stop complaining about the gas prices.

Moments in Irkdom: Foresight

what if I told you that I was going to give you an all expenses paid trip to Kenya? would you wait until the plane landed to ask if you were getting a plane ticket back? I hope not. this is what's called foresight.
or more clearly defined:

Perception of the significance and nature of events before they have occurred.
Care in providing for the future; prudence.
The act of looking forward.

This is a gift that we have all been given from God yet some of us decide to ignore. I get the whole "let's live in the moment" or "I could get hit by a bus tomorrow" mentality but what if that bus doesn't come? You're stuck on this planet paying for your yesterdays with tomorrow's grief.
I'm not even talking about big things like going to college or using a condom. If you come over my house and make a PB and J please put the lid back on the jar. You feel me?

When Men Were Men

So this morning I had "Rock Steady" stuck in me head and i decided to check it out on youtube. I have come upon a startling revelation, the Black man's mustache quality has degraded precipitously since the 80s. Bear in mind the whispers were quite possibly the worlds oldest boy band. Nevertheless, I am a man with robust facial hair and I've been so since 14 yet feel that I couldn't even muster the facial geography to cultivate such a wonderful crumb duster. These guys were just flaunting those things as they paraded about the stage. There wasn't a mustache guy that everyone tried to equal, but several masterfully drafted lip warmers. how was this so?

The Age of the Medi-talent

Remember when Stevie wonder used to make you dance in your pjs as he sang and played a perfectly crafted melody? Or how Ray Charles could make you wanna tell somebody to hit the road or make you want to live in Georgia? or how MJ made you want to wear a leather jacket, glove and tight pants? (ok maybe not all that) but still these were artist that sang and performed like their very lives depended on it. At some point I'm sure they believed their lives did. As children they were raised up hungry and talented. Ray didn't want to depend on anybody and being the greatest artist of his time was the only way he saw to live as he wished. He gave himself to the music. I could go on but I won't.

I said earlier that MJ's death was the end of an era but the era of the super talent has been on life support for some time. We once had an affinity for those with ability and creativity but we've shunned them in favor of marketability. The artists of today cannot compare to MJ or Stevie because their song aren't made to endure. we are enamored with stanky legs and chicken noodle soups and vocoder club bangers that will be nothing but a joke in ten years. look at the popular artists of today like Rhianna and Chris Brown both are artists of meager vocal talent but they fit the image so they sell records based upon formulaically produced singles and superior market exposure. When was the last time you heard a song and really felt goosebumps rise up and chills go down like when you think about MJ singing man in the mirror?
u feel me?

How to Get a Free Sammich

Do you order food from the same place several times a week? If so here a sure fire way to get a free, whatever you like. Let's say you like cheesesteaks. Call your favorite sub shop and ask for a cheesesteak with whatever you want on it and right before you hang up stress to the person on the other end the phone that you "don't want no onions." Do this a few more times and each time stress even more ephatically "I don't want no onions".

Now you've laid the groundwork.

After you feel that you've set the stage go to the resturant in person and complain that you are a loyal customer and you feel unappreciated because you stress over and over that you "don't want no onions" and that exactly what you get. You haven't had an onion in weeks, become irate and demand a refund and there you go, free sandwich

The Dawn of a New Era

The man MJ is dead. What's the meaning? This is a time where I would rather be asking myself if I want to live in a world without the man that made me want to learn how to sing, the man that made me moonwalk and break-dance, the man that made me want to knife fight in an abandoned parking lot... the man that made me believe that I could seduce Naomi Camble. Instead of being able to morn this event selfishly I have to look at his passing through the eyes of disgust.

Think about it...every celebrity that can reach a mic or a tv camera is singing the praises of "the king of pop" and every channel wants to be the first to laud this "pioneer." We are singing his praises to the high heavens and this is an enduring and ubiquitous phenomenon. WHY? The last ten years of his life were consumed with ridicule, all manners of vultures trying to poach his success and an American fan base forced to appreciate him from the shadows.

He was never convicted of any crime yet his name became synonymous with child molestation, he was the most successful entertainer of all time and we forgot about him. He led, he gave of himself and his wealth and we forgot about him. He showed much of the world their first black man who wasn't talkin that jive turkey stuff... and we forgot him.

When we talked about black shame we remembered him. When we talked about loosing our gender identity we remembered then blamed him. When we talk about black people we rather forget we remembered him.

I'll say it here, Michael Jackson was martyred. He reached the zenith of his world and realized his dream while making it look easy. Instead of basking in his success from a provincial ivory tower he continued to urge not only Black people but all people to better themselves from a black perspective. Think about some of his singles, "Heal the World" "Man in the Mirror" and "Earth Song" to name a few. He gave us his all as long as he could and when he started to break, where were we? Where were they? We ridiculed him we mocked and tore him down. The saddest part may be that in doing so, we tore ourselves down. MJ may have been the last generations Malcolm X if someone could have prevented his decline. Think about the pressure of being the best of the best as a child, a teenager a young man, a man, always getting better always improving never needing to. He was his only competition and he was a fierce competitor so of course he hated himself, he had to.

We were pawns of the machine that cast doubt upon all the great Black men that this country has ever known and we took it hook, line and sinker. When was the last time you heard someone in a group of mixed company say, "I think MJ is 100% innocent."?

I derived many of my social, ecological and psychological values from the power of his music and expression. I even based some of my masculine ideals off of MJ's ability to smack a dude up and take his girl when necessary.

The Hunt

For ages man has been occupied with the hunt. The hunt served to give men a sense of purpose and women a break from men. The hunt has proven valuble for sedating society. Think about it...
scenario 1
Hunter: Why does he get to be chief? when I get back from hunting were going to talk about that.
after the hunt
Hunter: man that was a great hunt! We killed something, hung out and expended all of our excess energy. time for a nap.

nowadays, the hunt is manifested in other ways. We are asked to pursue impossible goals at work in an attempt to have us "remain productive during workhours" (yes I realize the irony of writing this while I'm at work) The problem is that these hunts divert attention and resources from the things that are working and funnels them to the insignificant. I had a conversation with a co-worker about this phenomenon and she told me that these practices don't make sense. Well of course they dont make sense they were never intended to. How could a unicorn hunt make sense?

Q: If i told you I was off to hunt unicorns with seashell darts from Pachebels Canon and my brother told you he was going to hunt unicorns with a hunting rifle, who do you trust to return with unicorn meat?

A: Neither

regardless of the tool, if you are off on a mythical journey you will return with a myth or excuses.

Moments in Irkdom: Responsibility

Good morning,
Today I would like to describe an irksome quality to you all, irresponsibility.

Background: I was raised to be responsible. If I messed up anything i was held responsible for making it right. I was the oldest son in a Islamic/Military household...I was often man of the house...I was responsible. I have a little brother it's up to me to be a good role model...I was responsible. He got in a fight, needed to be at school on time, he got injured, hesaid a bad word, he didn't help me clean our room...I was responsible.

If you can't take responisibility for your actions, you make me want to tie you into a pretzel.

If we get into an agument about something and we conclude you were wrong, admit it and move on. If you cross the line and you know you have crossed the line, apologize for crossing the line and move on. If you showed up late for an appointment with me, admit it, apologize and let's talk about next steps. I don't hold on to grudges but I find it hard to respect someone who can't accept responsibility for their mistakes.

Do you feel me?

My first dose

This blog is inspired by my reflection on previous events. Once such event was the murder of a young black teenager named Jamahl Jones, who happened to be my brother's friend. These high school aged kids were at a party, the character of the party was typical for high schoolers (excessive drinking, boredom and general idiocy). Following the get-together, the young man and four white teenagers began to fight. In the midst of the fight the Jamahl was killed.
People were angry. We had so many questions we had so many frustrations and we had so much hostility towards these cowards. The tension of the times was palpable the local gazette published an article about the incident and cited a conversation with "Black community leaders". These so called leaders who were unnamed in the article urged the community to "be calm". CALM? Why calm? there are many things the community should be when a young person is killed by four assailants: outraged, hurt, afraid and maybe even contrite.but calm is one reaction that has no place in a tragedy such as this. Four white brutes murder an unarmed black teenager and the best plan of action is... tranquility?
Sure the Black spokespeople got to show up on tv and express their belief that this was a crime of hate. Sure all four of the young murderers were eventually arrested and sure they all went to trial. Sure I took that sedative the media had pitched to me and I didn't act. I watched and I waited. Sure enough, those four white boys were tried before a jury of 12 white peers and were swiftly acquitted without as much as an assault charge after extinguishing that child's flame. Who do we blame?
Perhaps i am biased because I am familiar with many of the players in this event and I feel Jahmal had more potential than the sum of those redneck children but someone should have done something. The courts did nothing, the press did nothing, the community did nothing...I did nothing. I don't condone mob violence or vigilantism but when its all said and done, which is the lesser of the two evils? And who are the black community leaders because I don't see or hear any real action on the ground.
In California, When the community feels that an injustice has taken place they community riots. In the Baltimore metro area when the community feels an injustice has been done they take a sedative and wait for the situation to blow over. Eastcosters retort "how does the destruction of the private property of innocent people solve anything?" Think about the vast changes to the LAPD and the Oakland PD following events like the King beating. I'm sure the offices became no less racist but after the massive community response and national exposure, following a man being beaten by four police officers, they know they better think twice before deciding to serve as judge jury and executioner. What lessons were learned after these four killers were awarded freedom for their efforts?

My very first post

Hi

This is my first personal blog. I am told that I should write or that I would make a good blogger because i have interesting things to say. Although I do not doubt the merit of those suggestions I would like to suggest that perhaps I have an interesting perspective.I'm not sure what direction I would like this blog to take but hopefully soon this blog will evolve from an amorphous blob to a form suitable for art.

Let me begin by discussing what I do not want this to be. Although I may be an angry frustrated black male, the general angry black male humor doesn't necessarily ring true to me. I am not a transcendent black male either; I still see race and racism in the world no matter how hard I close my eyes. Further, I'm not a black outsider voice either. I wasn't the kid that got picked on in school and can use his vitriolic wit to subdue his former tormentors, that's not really my thing.

I make observations. My observations have allowed me to keep my sanity in crazy times. I invite you to share my observations and perhaps take a moment to enjoy what I enjoy about this place.