Hello, World.

I'm back. Sorry I've been gone for so long. I guess life happened.

anyway. Check out this video by Tabi Bonney. He's a hip hop act out of good ol' Washington, DC. people are saying he will put DC hip hop on the map but only time will tell. What do I think?

I think his music is very, very fun. This song is really dope, nice lil groove to it. But I worry that his style is too regional. "Put me in the pocket" is a new DC term for getting someone's number. As in reaching into your pocket to get your phone so that you can enter it into the phone book. I don't know if the rest of the hip hop world will "get it"...if you've been here for a while like me or if you're from here you get it right away.

Funny story. When I first moved here, there were these guys named Bonney and Carter. They were sellin their cds out the trunk of their car in frickin' Georgetown on Wisconsin Avenue. One of them tried to get my attention but my lil freshman behind was not tryin to hear it. Would you believe the laugh I had when i readthis Wiki article and realized it was him!

anyways...The Pocket by Tabi Bonney.

feels good to be back in the blogosphere.

"2006 is Butt Nekkid Wednesdays"--e. badu

you've gotta love Erykah Badu. This clip is from Before the Music Dies, a documentary I saw a few weeks ago at a screening in DC. The documentary is about how the commercialization of music is killing the artistic value of music today. This part of the documentary is showing how a pop star is "built" and marketed...and probably explains why non-singing folks like Cassie have a career.

World AIDS day.

Today is World AIDS day. Get tested if you haven't already, pray for loved ones who have been effected by this epidemic, donate to AIDS research and advocacy groups. Do your part in fighting the good fight.

"no day but today"--RENT

HIV 'afflicting global workforce' HIV/Aids is having a crippling effect on the workforce of many countries, a report by the International Labour Organization for World Aids Day says.

The ILO said HIV/Aids killed almost 3.5 million people of working age in 2005.
South Africa, among the worst-affected nations, has announced a plan aiming to halve the infection rate by 2011 and to boost the use of antiretrovirals.
In a speech to mark World Aids Day, UN Secretary General Kofi Annan urged more frank and open discussion of HIV/Aids.
All politicians had to consider themselves personally accountable for stopping the spread of the disease, Mr Annan said, as did every individual.

"It requires every one of us to help bring Aids out of the shadows and spread the message that silence is death," he said.
South Africa's government has in the past been accused of not doing enough to fight the HIV/Aids pandemic.
More than five million South Africans are infected with the virus.
The announcement by Deputy-President Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka of a five-year action plan was expected to mark a significant change in policy.
However, the BBC's Southern Africa correspondent Peter Biles says Friday's launch was downgraded from a fully-fledged plan to a framework document.
Many details of the new policy have still to be spelt out, he says.
South Africa's former policy, which emphasised diet over the use of antiretroviral (ARV) treatment, was widely criticised.
The health minister responsible, Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, is reported currently to be on sick leave and has played little part in recent developments, our correspondent adds.

'Breathtaking' challenge

Figures recently released by the UN reveal that in terms of numbers, India is now facing the most severe HIV/Aids burden of any country in the world, with 5.7 million people infected.
Former US President Bill Clinton said in a BBC interview that India was the new epicentre of global infection.
He described the challenge to control the spread of the virus in India as "breathtaking".
Elsewhere, countries are marking World Aids Day with a series of events, including:

*The broadcast of radio and television messages in 25 countries across Africa aimed at preventing the spread of the disease among young people

*A march by Indonesian activists through the streets of the capital, Jakarta, demanding an end to the stigma attached to HIV/Aids

*A plan by activists in Thailand to create the world's "longest condom chain", a ribbon of 25,000 condoms stretching through a Bangkok park

*An announcement by Australian Foreign Minister Alexander Downer for an extra US$170m (£83m) to help its Asia-Pacific neighbours tackle the HIV/Aids epidemic
In its report, the ILO calls for sustained action worldwide to improve access to AVR treatments to cut mortality rates.

Without this, it estimates that the cumulative loss to the global workforce from the virus could rise to 45 million by 2010 and almost double again by 2020.
ILO estimates that more than 36 million people of working age are now living with the virus, the vast majority in sub-Saharan Africa.

HIV/Aids is adding an enormous burden to countries struggling to emerge from poverty (Odile Frank ILO ) This has had a damaging effect on the availability of labour in the worst-affected countries and has stunted economic growth. The ILO conducted research into the impact of the virus on 43 countries with some of the highest rates of infection in the world.

More than 70% of these countries were in sub-Saharan Africa.

Based on its findings, it has estimated that 1.3 million new jobs have been lost every year between 1992 and 2004 because of the virus.
This, in turn, reduced annual economic growth by an average of 0.5% over the period and 0.7% for sub-Saharan countries.

"HIV/Aids is adding an enormous burden to countries struggling to emerge from poverty," said Odile Frank, one of the report's authors.

"We need more employment opportunities for people with HIV/Aids and an end to discrimination against people with the virus to help them to secure work."

Treatment imperative

More than two million children around the world are now living with Aids while those aged 15-24 account for half of new infections.
The ILO said many children were forced to seek employment because they were living in extreme poverty, while their parents had either died from Aids or were too sick to work.
Other children found themselves working in unregulated industries such as the sex trade which exposed them to being infected.
The ILO said increased access to ARV treatments could significantly reduce the impact on the global workforce.
"The prospect of averting between one-fifth and one-quarter of potential new losses to the labour force should serve as a powerful incentive to target the workplace as a major entry point to achieve universal access to ARVs," the report concluded.

Story from BBC NEWS:http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/1/hi/business/6197074.stmPublished: 2006/12/01 13:29:05 GMT© BBC MMVI

Nas won.

I like Jay-Z just as much as the next sista, but Nas is really impressing me with this new single. Kingdom Come is starting to grow on me, but for a comeback album "Show me What you Got" seemed kind of anticlimactic for me. Will I be the one on the dancefloor two-steppin to that joint? of course. But I still think Jigga could have come harder than that.

Yes, I'm ready for my WHAT? BUT THAT SONG IS HOT! rebuttals. :-)

Nas delivery, lyrics, and message is just stronger to me. He saw an opportunity to "change the game" and he took advantage of it.

Oh, and the video is way more interesting to look at than Bey-Z stuntin' on a yacht.

one question: why?

cuz if I was the communications director this never would fly...and i'm only a couple months in the PR game!

anyways...look at this foolishness:

NEWS ALERT : PELOSI TELLS HASTINGS NO ON INTELLIGENCE CHAIRMANSHIP

After meeting with House Speaker-elect Pelosi this afternoon, Rep. Alcee Hastings, D-Fla., issued a statement confirming he will not serve as chairman of the House Intelligence Committee. "I have been informed by the speaker-elect that I will not serve as the chairman of the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence in the 110th Congress," he said. "I am obviously disappointed with this decision."

Hastings won election to Congress in 1992, after having been impeached and removed from office as a federal judge. He concluded his statement by saying, "Sorry, haters, God is not finished with me yet."

RIP Bebe Moore Campbell.

About a year ago my aunt gave me a signed copy of Bebe Moore Campbell's children's book, Sometimes My Mommy Gets Angry. That story almost moved me to tears. I was just thinking about this story when I saw the following report.

Author Bebe Moore Campbell dies at 56
Mon Nov 27, 4:35 PM ET

Bebe Moore Campbell, whose many best sellers such as "Brothers and Sisters" touched on America's ethnic and social divides, died Monday. She was 56.Campbell died at home in Los Angeles from complications due to brain cancer, said publicist Linda Wharton Boyd. She was diagnosed with the disease in February."My wife was a phenomenal woman who did it her way," husband Ellis Gordon Jr. said in a statement. "She loved her family and her career as a writer.

Her books, largely fiction and based on real-life stories, included the perspective of many ethnic groups.

One of her first novels, "Your Blues Ain't Like Mine," was published in 1992 and spanned a 40-year period. It dealt with prejudice in the United States. The book earned her an NAACP Image Award for literature. She followed the book with "Brothers and Sisters," which focused on race relations in the corporate world after the 1992 Los Angeles riot.Among her other novels were "Singing in the Comeback Choir," "What You Owe Me" and "72 Hour Hold," the latter dealing with a mother coping with her daughter's bipolar disorder. Her 2003 play, "Even With the Madness," also focused on mental illness.

She also wrote children's books, including "Sometimes My Mommy Gets Angry" in 2003, which won the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill Outstanding Literature Award. Another children's book, "I'm So Hungry," will be released next year.

As a journalist, her articles appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times, Essence and Ebony.Campbell, whose full name was Elizabeth Bebe Moore Campbell Gordon, was born in February 1950 in Philadelphia. She earned her bachelor's degree from the University of Pittsburgh in 1971.

Campbell is survived by her husband; a son, Ellis Gordon III; a daughter, Maia Campbell; her mother, Doris Moore; and two grandchildren.

Funeral arrangements were pending.

Copyright © 2006 The Associated Press.

From my cold, dead hands.

We're privileged to have Omar Woodard, a very good friend of mine, to bring his thoughts on gun violence in our communities to Ignorant Art this evening. Omar is an MPA candidate at The George Washington University and a Philadelphia native.

Where I'm from, gun crimes are typical. In Philadelphia, there have been almost 360 gun homicides alone since January 1. It was nothing for us to lay down and hear not firecrackers, but the sound of 45's clapping in the air. But recently, in the past year I've lost too many friends and family members to guns. One is too many, five is unbearable.

On my birthday, my best friend and prom date, Ardyce Hogan was shot and killed. My cousin was shot and killed just last night, over an Eagles jersey. An Eagles jersey that he didn't want to give up, so he gave up his life. This isn't a black issue, either. White folks have been killing each other for a long time now, I'm not sure if anyone has noticed flipping through your history books. But in America, our gun related homicide rates in major cities and rural areas are high every year. In PA, averaged over the past ten years, 70% of ALL homicides involved a gun. (source below)

I say that to say this: there are forces at work in our country that are actively opposed to the cessation of gun violence. ACTIVELY. OPPOSED. In my native state, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, the legislature refuses to pass a one-gun-a-month law. They refuse, on the ground that it is unconstitutional to bar citizens from their Second Amendment right to keep and bear arms. So they can circumvent existing law to wiretap Americans, under the auspices of keeping America safe, but they can't bar someone from buying more than 12 guns a year that may actually go a ways to keep Americans safe?

Rural folks say that people in urban areas need to stop shooting each other. Would that it were that simple! It isn't about the urban and rural divide anymore, it's about priorities; it is about doing what is appropriate to keep kids safe on their streets. The Bush Administration thinks we should fear terrorism from Islamic extremists? We should fear the continued inaction of our state and national government. That is a far cry from being safe, from real "homeland security" - whatever the hell that means.

A single father of five was shot two weeks ago in Philadelphia, the victim of a stray bullet. It hit him in the head and killed him instantly. And we are scared of terrorism? Families are fearful to step outside their homes!

There are forces at work that actively oppose the cessation of gun violence in America. All the while, people are dying. Why won't we stand up to them? Why won't we demand that enough is enough? My family, my friends are being killed by guns, not bombs. They are not being killed by bearded Muslims, but by clean-shaven Americans.

Charlton Heston, the famous actor who once played Moses in the film The Ten Commandmants, and who walked with MLK Jr. in the March on Washington, uttered the now famous words, "They will pry this rifle from my cold, dead hands." Ironic, isn't it? The man who played Moses, the man who offered the Ten Commandments, one of which said, "Thou shalt not kill" - was President of the NRA?

There are forces at work that actively oppose the cessation of gun violence in America. People are dying. I'm not talking about taking anyone's guns away. But if 70% of ALL homicides over the past ten years in a state with 12 million people in it involved a gun, maybe we should reduce the number of guns available to people who shoot other people. Common sense measures can be adopted.

1. Limit purchases to one-gun-a-month

2. Renew and make permanent civilian ban on assault weapons

3. Increase age to buy guns through private sales to 21.

4. Allow local authorities, like Philadelphia, to set gun regulations

5. Adopt a national registration system, like for cars. We know what car you could hit someone with, why not know what gun you could shoot someone with?

Sources:1.http://bjsdata.ojp.usdoj.gov/dataonline/Search/Homicide/State/RunHomStatebyState.cfm

2. www.nra.org

3.www.ceasefirepa.org

*To my friends who worry about a career in politics, don't worry. I'm not.

Homecoming.

This Christmas will actually be the first one I spend with my east coast fam since I was at least 7 years old. I'm excited, but I think I'm also a little sad. My childhood friends like to say, "You're so east coast!" whenever I come back from DC. Sometimes I wonder if it's because I've been away for that long or if it's really that I've "adapted" to life in the DC Metro. Have I REALLY traded my flip flops for timbs and hightops? Nah, not really. I'm still a Cali girl at heart. I miss the Chuck Taylors with the fat white laces. I get hype when they play old school Snoop in the clubs out here. I like my latte with soy milk. I still get slightly irritated when it's below 60 degrees outside. And sometimes I am still amused with how many people don't drive out here. As comfortable as I am with Washington, I find that I miss home a lot, even when I don't want to admit it. I miss Los Angeles "staples"--Venice, In and Out, Coffee Bean, Roscoes, Poetry and jazz sessions in Leimert, Watts Towers, stilettos and cellphones in Beverly Hills. I miss palm trees in the middle of December. I even miss the long bus ride on the 210 to my high school sometimes.

But the more I think about it, it may have been easier to adjust to DC since much of my family's roots are here. My mother grew up in Southeast, my father in Northwest. I mentioned in my last entry that I was contacted by my cousin, who has been researching his family history for ten years. I learned some things I hadn't known about before, and a few things I had wondered about but hadn't gotten answers about. For instance, it was confirmed that my father's side of the family had migrated to DC from the Carolinas and Virginia, respectively. Talking with my grandmother and with my cousin about our family history, I learned we can trace our family as far as Frances Simmons, who was a sharecropper like many Blacks after the Civil War.

Some of my relatives live in a house in Northeast Washington DC. When I was there for a small family gathering in April, it was mentioned that the house had been in the family since the 1890s. My great-great grandmother owned that house in during those years; she was a stenographer, while her husband was an insurance broker.

All of this begs the question--knowing that my great-great grandmother moved to Washington circa 1919-1920 (the tail end of the Great Migration)...knowing that my fam has roots in Virginia and the Carolinas...knowing that some of us got to the Carolinas by way of Haiti...where were we before then? The easiest answer is Africa, but I can't help but wonder where in Africa. It's one thing to guess or hypothesize, it's completely different to really know.

When I spoke with my cousin, I asked about if he had been able to research past the late 1800s. He said that the hardest part is the disconnect caused by slavery--before Reconstruction, most Black folks were recorded as "property" so birth records and Census data would not have accounted for that. Family units were divided again and again as slaves were bought, sold and sometimes killed. As a result, the familial bond was oftentimes broken. "It's possible though," he said in a more hopeful tone. "It would take more work, but if your Grandmother and I keep talking and researching--and if you keep doing the same and keep learning more--maybe we can get more questions answered."

For Black families, researching family history can be both frustrating and painful. Frustrating because our history of slavery and opporession makes it even harder to reach conclusions about where our roots really begin. Painful because--as with any family of any race--there will always be questions that some family members would rather be left unanswered. But just beginning to talk about things as simple as when your grandmother moved into her house or where your aunt went to college can spark a conversation about why your family is the way they are. Taking the time to talk about things that are not-so-pleasant as well as the good memories and anecdotes is just part of the "healing process" if you will. It's one of the first steps in strengthening the familial bond that we've lost in our past.

Knowing where you came from

I received the following email today from a cousin I haven't even met:

I am your cousin.
I am going to do a relationship chart to show you how we are related:

James and Bessie Dixon
children:
Miriam =Sisters=Bessie
Michael =1st cousins= Jacqueline
Anthony = 2nd cousins= John
Angel =3rd cousins= Lauren

I just wanted to contact you because we are cousins and we are the same age. you were born in Feb. and I was born in April. Just give me a call so we can stay in touch.

all this time I was thinking that I didn't have any cousins who were the same age as me, and then I find out that I actually do and not only that, we used to live practically around the corner from each other! He's been researching his family lineage for ten years now; his father is my grandmother's cousin. Apparently, he can trace our family back to Norfolk, Virginia in the late 19th century. This is very exciting and it makes me want to learn more about my family's history; I only know bits from talking to the older relatives and from my own research on my great-grandmother's life.

He's coming to DC in a few weeks, so we'll actually be able to meet face to face.

This will be continued...what a way to end the night...

Wednesday is only one step closer to Friday.

but until then...a little humpday humor. a friend shared this with me and it made me chuckle a bit.

Loryn's favorite things: Happy Halloween Y'all.

I know it's been a while, but I thought I'd come back with a Halloween edition of Loryn's favorite things. The list is short, but they're worth mentioning:



classic music video moment. and people STILL borrow moves from this joint!

and now, one of my favorite poems...."The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe. Poe wrote a lot about how the death of a beautiful woman was the key to a good piece of poetry---I guess the proof is in the pudding:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.


And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.


Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.


Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."


Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."


But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."


Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."


But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!


Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."


And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

How to Write about Africa by Binyavanga Wainaina

I grew up in a community where I was taught that Africans were so incredibly different from African Americans that there was no way we could ever get along and understand each other. I remember my mother telling me never to marry and African man and the kids on the playground calling the one African kid in the class an "African Booty Scratcher." I remember seeing the images of poor African children in the charity commercials as a kid and wondering if they were any different from poor Black children here, or if there were even any children in America who lived like that. I kept thinking, "why does Africa always seem so sad? This can't be true."

I didn't realize that these stereotypes weren't true until I actually moved to DC that I really started to see that the generalizations I had been socialized to believe about Africa and about the African experience were just that. I met Nigerians, Ethiopians, Ghanaians, Chadians. I met folks from Senegal who spoke fluent French and would exchange a phrase or two with me. I met cool ass Ghanaians who could rap with me about 50 Cent and Phyllis Wheatley. I started listening to Fela Kuti and met folks from Nigeria who would joke with me and ask "whatchu know about Fela?"

The following piece is a prose-poem written by Kenyan writer Binyavanga Wainaina. A good friend of mine is a Nigerian brotha who I've talked about Pan-African idea(l)s with from time to time. He shared the following prose-poem with me yesterday morning, and I want to share it with all of you. Wanna hear it? He'ah go.

some tips: sunsets and starvation are good

Always use the word 'Africa' or 'Darkness' or 'Safari' in your title. Subtitles may include the words 'Zanzibar', 'Masai', 'Zulu', 'Zambezi', 'Congo', 'Nile', 'Big', 'Sky', 'Shadow', 'Drum', 'Sun' or 'Bygone'. Also useful are words such as 'Guerrillas', 'Timeless', 'Primordial' and 'Tribal'. Note that 'People' means Africans who are not black, while 'The People' means black Africans.

Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel Prize. An AK-47, prominent ribs, naked breasts: use these. If you must include an African, make sure you get one in Masai or Zulu or Dogon dress.

In your text, treat Africa as if it were one country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short people who eat primates. Don't get bogged down with precise descriptions. Africa is big: fifty-four countries, 900 million people who are too busy starving and dying and warring and emigrating to read your book. The continent is full of deserts, jungles, highlands, savannahs and many other things, but your reader doesn't care about all that, so keep your descriptions romantic and evocative and unparticular.

Make sure you show how Africans have music and rhythm deep in their souls, and eat things no other humans eat. Do not mention rice and beef and wheat; monkey-brain is an African's cuisine of choice, along with goat, snake, worms and grubs and all manner of game meat. Make sure you show that you are able to eat such food without flinching, and describe how you learn to enjoy it—because you care.

Taboo subjects: ordinary domestic scenes, love between Africans (unless a death is involved), references to African writers or intellectuals, mention of school-going children who are not suffering from yaws or Ebola fever or female genital mutilation.

Throughout the book, adopt a sotto voice, in conspiracy with the reader, and a sad I-expected-so-much tone. Establish early on that your liberalism is impeccable, and mention near the beginning how much you love Africa, how you fell in love with the place and can't live without her. Africa is the only continent you can love—take advantage of this. If you are a man, thrust yourself into her warm virgin forests. If you are a woman, treat Africa as a man who wears a bush jacket and disappears off into the sunset. Africa is to be pitied, worshipped or dominated. Whichever angle you take, be sure to leave the strong impression that without your intervention and your important book, Africa is doomed.

Your African characters may include naked warriors, loyal servants, diviners and seers, ancient wise men living in hermitic splendour. Or corrupt politicians, inept polygamous travel-guides, and prostitutes you have slept with. The Loyal Servant always behaves like a seven-year-old and needs a firm hand; he is scared of snakes, good with children, and always involving you in his complex domestic dramas. The Ancient Wise Man always comes from a noble tribe (not the money-grubbing tribes like the Gikuyu, the Igbo or the Shona). He has rheumy eyes and is close to the Earth. The Modern African is a fat man who steals and works in the visa office, refusing to give work permits to qualified Westerners who really care about Africa. He is an enemy of development, always using his government job to make it difficult for pragmatic and good-hearted expats to set up NGOs or Legal Conservation Areas. Or he is an Oxford-educated intellectual turned serial-killing politician in a Savile Row suit. He is a cannibal who likes Cristal champagne, and his mother is a rich witch-doctor who really runs the country.

Among your characters you must always include The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless. She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment. Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).

Bad Western characters may include children of Tory cabinet ministers, Afrikaners, employees of the World Bank. When talking about exploitation by foreigners mention the Chinese and Indian traders. Blame the West for Africa's situation. But do not be too specific.
Broad brushstrokes throughout are good. Avoid having the African characters laugh, or struggle to educate their kids, or just make do in mundane circumstances. Have them illuminate something about Europe or America in Africa. African characters should be colourful, exotic, larger than life—but empty inside, with no dialogue, no conflicts or resolutions in their stories, no depth or quirks to confuse the cause.

Describe, in detail, naked breasts (young, old, conservative, recently raped, big, small) or mutilated genitals, or enhanced genitals. Or any kind of genitals. And dead bodies. Or, better, naked dead bodies. And especially rotting naked dead bodies. Remember, any work you submit in which people look filthy and miserable will be referred to as the 'real Africa', and you want that on your dust jacket. Do not feel queasy about this: you are trying to help them to get aid from the West. The biggest taboo in writing about Africa is to describe or show dead or suffering white people.

Animals, on the other hand, must be treated as well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or grunt while tossing their manes proudly) and have names, ambitions and desires. They also have family values: see how lions teach their children? Elephants are caring, and are good feminists or dignified patriarchs. So are gorillas. Never, ever say anything negative about an elephant or a gorilla. Elephants may attack people's property, destroy their crops, and even kill them. Always take the side of the elephant. Big cats have public-school accents. Hyenas are fair game and have vaguely Middle Eastern accents. Any short Africans who live in the jungle or desert may be portrayed with good humour (unless they are in conflict with an elephant or chimpanzee or gorilla, in which case they are pure evil).

After celebrity activists and aid workers, conservationists are Africa's most important people. Do not offend them. You need them to invite you to their 30,000-acre game ranch or 'conservation area', and this is the only way you will get to interview the celebrity activist. Often a book cover with a heroic-looking conservationist on it works magic for sales. Anybody white, tanned and wearing khaki who once had a pet antelope or a farm is a conservationist, one who is preserving Africa's rich heritage. When interviewing him or her, do not ask how much funding they have; do not ask how much money they make off their game. Never ask how much they pay their employees.

Readers will be put off if you don't mention the light in Africa. And sunsets, the African sunset is a must. It is always big and red. There is always a big sky. Wide empty spaces and game are critical—Africa is the Land of Wide Empty Spaces. When writing about the plight of flora and fauna, make sure you mention that Africa is overpopulated. When your main character is in a desert or jungle living with indigenous peoples (anybody short) it is okay to mention that Africa has been severely depopulated by Aids and War (use caps).

You'll also need a nightclub called Tropicana, where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas and expats hang out.

Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care.

thanks, obi.-L.

eat the cake, anna mae.

I'm so excited about this film. I saw the trailer this summer when I went to see...Superman I think it was. Sofia Coppola is a very talented director/writer. I have yet to see Virgin Suicides but Lost in Translation was one of my favorite flicks that year.

Marie Antoinette may very well have been a pre-cursor to Paris Hilton...well, maybe not. She was definitely smarter than her. But given all the rumors that were swirling around about her, perhaps it's a good thing there was no such thing as a "sex tape" in 18th Century France. I saw Dangerous Liaisons a while ago which was set in the same era as this film, and sometimes I wonder if the raciness of the two movies was actually true to the historical period, or if it's today's modern obsession with sex and sexuality that drives it?

In any case, this movie is going to be freaking awesome.

what if all the world's problems could be solved through a danceoff?

no but for real....now mind you, if we leave it up to Bush, we'd probably still be s.o.l. but you never know. maybe condi can surprise us and bust out with the mean worm.

i mean we could at LEAST take on Saddam in a danceoff.

Miles in the Sky

On this day in 1991, we lost Miles Davis, one of my favorite musicians and arguably, one of the greatest jazz musicians of all time.

listen to Kind of Blue today.

The Blues People.

This morning I heard the news of Terrell Owen's alleged suicide attempt (http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2006/football/nfl/09/27/owens.report/index.html?cnn=yes). Many people are shocked, saying that they never would have guessed that TO was struggling with depression. But I think there's another issue here--depression and suicide are issues in the Black community that are still tremendous taboos. Somehow, we still seem to think that depression, therapy, etc. are "white issues" and that only White people suffer from it or need therapy for it.

I've known people who have committed suicide, and I know people who have suffered clinical depression. It's a serious subject, and one that needs to be talked about in depth in our community. Read on.

-L.

http://www.healthyplace.com/Communities/depression/minorities_5.asp

"It's a hidden crisis and it's killing more young black men then ever. Suicide is a taboo subject among many cultures, but the denial of mental health disorders runs rampant among African Americans. Between 1980 and 1995, the suicide rate of black males doubled to about eight deaths per 100,000 people. The authors of a new book are uncovering an unspoken crisis in the African American community.

It was 1979 but Amy Alexander remembers the day like it was yesterday."He was just very wonderful," recalls Amy Alexander, author of Lay My Burden Down" I looked up to him. I admired him."She was just a teenager when her brother Carl took his own life. Still reeling from the tragedy, Amy teamed up with renowned Harvard psychiatrist Alvin Poussaint to dispel the myths of suicide among the black community."It is very much a misperception that black people don't commit suicide and that comes in part from a need the very real and legitimate need for black people for many years to be very strong," says Alexander.

They see mental disorder and depression as a sign of personal weakness or moral failure," says psychiatrist Alvin Poussaint, M.D. of the Harvard Medical School.The suicide rate among black men has doubled since 1980 making suicide the third leading cause of death for black men between the ages 15 and 24. Poussaint calls his own brother's death from heroin abuse a slow form of suicide.

"Psychologists and psychiatrists have to pay attention to those types of behaviors and look at them in a context in the same way they would look at someone who, in fact, was depressed or maybe suicidal," says Poussaint.

Like others, African Americans may display depression through physical symptoms like headaches and stomachaches and may complain of an aching misery."There must be an increased awareness about the unique aspects of mental health in black Americans."

Doctor Poussaint says one reason African-Americans may not seek out professional help is because only about 2.3% of all psychiatrists in the United States are African American. Amy feels it's important that culturally sensitive training become a part of the standard mental healthcare education process. She emphasizes mental health problems are often physically related and can be treated through talk therapy or through medication.

STARTLING STATISTICS:

Between 1980 and 1995, the suicide rate among black men doubled to nearly 8 deaths per 100,000 people. Suicide is now the third leading cause of death among black men between the ages of 15 and 24.SILENT SITUATION:Despite this increase in numbers, the topic of suicide is still considered "taboo". While this is true nationwide among all groups, Alvin Poussaint, M.D., a Harvard psychiatrist, says the stigma is even stronger in the black community. One problem, he says, is the stigma associated with depression itself. More than 60 percent of black individuals don't see depression as a mental illness, which makes it unlikely they will seek help for it. Dr. Poussaint says it goes back to the days when blues music was invented as a way to sing about pain and distress. He says blacks just consider it part of life. He also says blacks pride themselves on being strong after surviving 250 years of slavery and years of segregation and discrimination. Depression, then, is seen as a sign of weakness.

OVERCOMING THE PROBLEM:

Dr. Poussaint says the first step to help is public awareness. He says, "You can't prevent illness or suicide if you don't talk about it and gain some knowledge about it." Along with this, he says education about the warning signs of suicide is needed. These signs include:
* Irritability
* Changes in appetite
* Changes in sleep habits
* Headaches, stomach aches, pain all over
* Chronic fatigue - not wanting to get up in the morning
* Sadness that continues for up to a month - spontaneous crying
* Social withdrawal - a loss of interest in activities and things once considered enjoyable

SLOW SUICIDE

Dr. Poussaint also talks about what he calls "slow suicide." This is other self- destructive behavior that can accompany depression. This includes drug addiction, alcohol addiction, gang involvement, and other high-risk behaviors.GET HELPDr. Poussaint says if these characteristics describe you or anyone you know, get help. Don't deny the problem. He says, "It is not a moral weakness, and it doesn't mean you are less of a person because you reach out for help."The National Hopeline Network 1-800-SUICIDE provides access to trained telephone counselors, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Or for a crisis center in your area, go here."

...but some days, i sit and wish i was a kid again (c) ahmad

today when i was on the metro, an interesting childhood memory flashed across my mind. Highlights Magazine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Highlights) was my favorite thing to read as a little kid. i remembered my mom and i solving the "hidden pictures" puzzle. i really loved those...lookin for the picture santa hat inside the picture of a giant dog, stuff like that. she'd read me stories from the newest Highlights and then we'd get to Hidden Pictures, and we'd say together in a singsong voice, "Hiiideeeen Pictuuuuures!" and i'd grin and laugh.

i miss that sometimes. i can't believe i had so much less to think about back then. or that there was a time when i had so little to think about. now it's how i'm going to pay my next bills, how i can avoid eating ramen for the next two weeks, and how the hell i'm going to afford grad school. why can't life stay as easy as finding the hidden picture of a santa hat? or as predictable as the end of a Bearstein Bears book?

playing dress up. that was fun too. wearing my mom's clothes and pretending to be mommy. or a princess. or a lawyer. or anything. i can't pretend anymore. and hell, i gotta PAY to play dress up now! and H & M doesn't seem very cheap anymore.

i remember when choosing and keeping friends depended solely on whether or not i traded by ho-ho with them for a fruit roll-up. i think as you get older a consideration of REAL emotion and raw honesty and loyalty is more important, but the issue is that everyone's perception of these things is different and depends on your life experience. and experience can make you either optimistic and hopeful or judgmental and perhaps cynical.

sometimes i definitely wish it was as easy as it was when i was 5. this whatever years/pre-quarterlife crisis time, in a word, SUCKS. no matter what aspect--job, dating, money, fam--it nowhere near ideal. but at the same time...i know i couldn't have it any other way.

Thoughts on the random: Pandora, office snacks, the non-cuddler, and No-Debo.

I know it's been a while since my last post. My work-life balance is laughable right now. Nevertheless, I will talk about the above topics in that order, and i may add things to the list as i see fit.

Pandora stations: L-dub's current obsession

About two weeks ago I was bored at work and I needed something to make the day more interesting, or at least make it go by quicker. I finally checked out something called Pandora Radio Stations...it's an internet radio station that you customize by entering what artists or songs you like. So far, I've created a a neo soul station, an oldies station, a new york hip hop station, a southern rap/crunk station, a straight R&B station, and of course a West Coast rap station (four fingaz up, two twisted in da middle :-) . I don't know what else to say, but Pandora.com is the truth!

The office snack guy.

so i don't know about y'all, but in my office (in fact in most offices i've been in) there's that guy who always has snacks at his desk that he often shares with the rest of the office. it's cool, but also kinda funny to me. it reminds me of that kid in middle school who always brought big bags candy and stuff with him to sell on the playground during recess or whenever.


revisiting the non-cuddler.

so some of you may remember when i was talking about men who don't like to cuddle. now i don't know how much this rings true, but a guy friend of mine believes that depending on the type of relationship you have--cuddling is either part of the arrangement or not. ie, if they're just a random fling, then it may not be expected that you're gonna like...lay in bed and cuddle cuz it's like that (and that's the way it is, boo).

i just don't think some guys get it though. most women wanna cuddle. point blank period. it's arguably---the best part of whatever you were doing leading up to it. i think if some men did it more, then perhaps more fun activities would ensue--that's all i'm saying. however, if it's a random fling---perhaps the guy doesn't care about that, right? this isn't the case in every scenario of course, but it could be the case at least in a few instances. but what do i know? i sleep alone.

No-Debo on the Metro.

my newest pet peeve HAS to be people who try to "Debo" their way into an already crowded train cuz they're too damn pressed to wait for the next train during rush hour. this has got to be one of the dumbest things ever, mostly because during the morning hours the trains are about 5 minutes apart if not less than that. so why push your way in? they're even more annoying than those idiots who stand on the left side of the elevator when they KNOW they're supposed to stand right and pass left.

maybe next time that happens i'll push them outside of the doors before the chime sounds.


or not.

Public Service Announcement:

I am a guest contributor to Honorable Media this week...peep my article on R&B's Women to Watch:

http://www.honorablemedia.com/blog/uncategorized/262

ten years already.

Tupac Shakur died ten years ago today...I grew up Cali and i had just started middle school when it happened....i remember coming home from a class camping trip right before he passed, and getting a call from my homegirl down the block....tupac got shot! for real though! turn on channel 7!...i remember that he was in the hospital, and everybody was like "he's gonna be okay, he's gonna make it...talkin to other people it seems like that was the sentiment they expressed as well...as if he was a fallen superhero...makaveli came out and it was mad spooky....the image of the crucifix, the track "hail mary"....then the "he ain't dead" rumors...ain't that him in the "sweetest thing" video! peep it again!

the vendors down on slauson and crenshaw in LA are still pushin pac t-shirts....but around that time you could cop them literally anywhere...

nikki giovanni's "thug life" tattoo....

countless tributes...bet playin and replayin all the tupac videos...

then, about 6 years later, 50 hopin we love him like we love pac...right.

people can say what they about 2pac's skills as a rapper...but i think it's pretty hard to "swagger jack" somebody like Pac...

but that's just me.

rest in peace, brother.