I believe Tyler Perry is gay. And on the downlow.

Albums of My Life

I decided to write about the music that has really made a profound presence with me. This is not complete, but it does cover most of what I have encountered that has stuck with me.

Back to Broadway- Barbra Streisand

This was the first Barbra Streisand album I bought, back in 1992. It was erotic and with a flare that was totally captivating. I love particularly the mellow seductiveness of "Speak Low," which is an incredibly sensual rendition of the classic tune from "South Pacific." "Move On," is incredibly moving and brings goosebumps to my skin listening to it. Barbra's delivery here is earth-shattering as she lays out her sorrow song about self-fullfilment and letting go. The melange of Broadway standards that Barbra puts together on this album flow with a sensational ease and make for a breezy, jazz-tempered album that stands out on it own. The two duets on this album are also intoxicating. "Music of the Night," with Michael Crawford and "One Hand/One Heart," with Johnny Mathis are truly classic, each displaying the ease with which Barbra's magnificent and powerful voice blends and flavors the art of duet.

The Broadway Album- Barbra Streisand

The original Broadway Album, released six years before Back to Broadway (both were number one on the charts), I acquired this album after the second one. I was profoundly moved. The way Barbra arranges songs for an album is truly, in a word, exceptional. Each song tells a story or sends a message, and they all fit within a theme or pattern that she has carefully designed for the album. "Putting it Together," really gets into my bones. Opening the album, this song expresses the frustration of being true to one's craft and talent in the face of naysayers and public trends. Art truly isn't easy. "Being Alive,"is absolutely heart-wrenching and touches the soul with its heart-filled request to be taken, to be used, to be loved. Barbra's "Porgy," is definitely a classic rendition and rivals(although doesn't quite reach the level of) Nina Simone's. "Pretty Women/Ladies Who Lunch" is fun, playful, and delicious as it weaves together a stinging blow to the prototypical society woman. This album is definitely important to the Streisnad repertoire and is truly one of the best albums ever produced.

Barbra Streisand Greatest Hits Volume II is truly one of the greatest albums of all time. This album is astoundingly fresh and erotic, especially considering that all of the songs on this album were previously released. The compilation and arrangement of this album are truly what make it powerful andstand as testament to Streisand's ability as an artist. This is a true rock and roll classic and defines Barbra's ingenuity as a rock and roll diva. "Prisoner/ Eyes of Laura Mars," is a primal scream that speaks for itself. With grit and the fire of emotion, Barbra gives this album an intensity that is reached by few albums.

A Star is Born

This album only gets mentioned because of the presence of "Queen Bee," "Everything," "Woman in the Moon," and "With One More Look at You." This album is not a classic like Greatest Hits Volume II, but it does hold its own as a rock and roll album, which is attested to by its status as a quadruple platinum seller.These four songs range from the playful to searing with razor sharp lyrics, earth shattering deliveries, and subtle messages of feminist testimony,individual freedom and integrity. As a soundtrack, "A Star is Born," reaches beyond expectation.

Tapestry

I bought this album when I was just about to graduate from high school. It had a profound effect on me. Tapestry is one of those albums with deep roots that bury themselves down in your soul and plant themselves there. "Home Again" and "Beautiful as You Feel," cut right to the core. "Natural Woman," and "Will You Still Love Me Tommorow," prove that what she pens she can also sing. "Tapestry," is a mesmerizing, magical lyric that weaves together a morose,enchanting tale and evokes the sincerest emotions from the listener. This album is indeed exceptional.

Waiting to Exhale is THE soundtrack that deserves respect as a part of the regular cannon. This album is spiritual medicine and although I completely ignored this album when it first came out, in high school and college I absolutely learned to appreciate both the album and the movie. This album is the Black Woman's testimonial. An offering of balm to the soul. Patti, Aretha, Chaka, Brandy, Toni Braxton, Whitney Houston,Mary J. Blige....this album is truly beautiful.

What is going on with Tavis and his show on PBS? I swear. I love Tavis, but he must be a bit out of it with some of the guest he has had recently. This musician that he had on tonight, perhaps he should have let him speak first and then not sing at all.

In regards to the previous post, I mention it only because I found it interesting that there were three shows in succession that touched on homosexuality, or to put it better, made use of borderline homophobic humour in their shows.

Tonight on television, there were three consecutive shows that broached the topic of homosexuality - Living Single, That Seventies Show, and one other one which I cant remember right now. Who comes up with this programming? I can't believe I am watching television these days. I haven't watched tv in ages.

America is now the Nigger. I think there should be more discussions focused around what Cornel West said in regards to that. This country now knows that it is not invincible, and indeed is the new nigger.

What is going on with the NAACP? Well, I will simply state right now that the NAACP needs backbone and integrity. It needs to, as I have just heard a commentator say, pick up the issues that need to be addressed to better the lives of people. Alas, I think George Bush is filthy and should be beaten with a stick for refusing the NAACP's invitation, but alas, I think that the NAACP needs to get a grip, which means stop allowing the Bush administration from defnining the way you operate and what your agenda is. I think this needs to be addressed. Alas, where are the Black Panthers?

I hope China whoops ass. I put my hope and faith in the future of China.

Being involved with Charles has whetted my appetite. I want something beautiful and substantial, interesting, and captivating.

It is absolutely horrid that these people will use the bombings in London to try and foster support for this occupation and disrespect of the people of Iraq and Afghanistan. The british need to 1. Get rid of Tony Blair and 2. Withdraw troops from those regions. Alice Walker where are you dear?

The first of offers for teaching positions are coming in! I feel a mix of excitement, nausea, and fear. I need to channel the spirits of Howard Zinn, Angela Davis, and bell hooks! Please be with me along the way! I want nothing but good spirits with me at this time!

Today I am going to write about something that I should and want to, now, address. I had a friendship(which was quite sincere on my part), but which was very much abused. It will never be fitting for anyone to take their frustrations out on me because they have not gotten the job that they wanted. I had sensed a few times a bit of class resentment (along with a bit of white male righteousness) on the part of this person, but simply brushed it aside. However, when his job failed to materialize, it really showed through in one of our last conversations in which he referred to me as being "bougie," among other things which I don't remember. Alas, I dont care how much I may like you, you won't take it out on me when the world doesnt go your way. The dynamics of a lower-middle class white boy trying to reach up and being resentful of middle class Blacks shows a lot, especially how in this country it doesnt matter what your class is, to be white is supposed to mean that you have power, privilege, and legitimacy. Not in my book. And alas, I will lay it out a bit that now this person who has an undergraduate degree in Women's studies (no money) and wants to find a job in computers (ha!) and who will be going to a second-rate graduate school in California with no funding(as much as I don't like Purdue, it is established and I was funded;-) Anyway, there is always something to learn from.

This article

is a link to a story about the space weaponry that the Bush administration is working on. God help us all. They want to take out countries from space now.

This evening, as I passed the barbed wire fence to go to my friend's place, I thought for a second of what it must feel like for a Palestinian passing the Israeli wall. I often wonder about the experience of Homosexuality in Islam. That is definitely something that I would like to learn more about. I wonder if there are any films about it. I do know from talking to F H that it does occur, and he has told me a little bit about how homosexuality exists within the muslim world. I often marveled as well about F H. He still plans to marry and continue in his "duty" despite his love of men. I would love to learn more. I think tonight I did more in terms of queering Islam than I think I know. How beautiful it would be when two men would learn to embracy each other, in love, in the Islamic world. That would be love. That would be beautiful.

Today Sandra Day O'Connor resigned from the Supreme Court. Two things will happen: 1) All hell will break loose and 2). Minorities (especially gay men, whom I don't feel that sorry for-- are going to suffer like hell). Ah well.

I just got through watching the new show that Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown put on television. Lord Help us all. A show about your home life and its all staged....but what Black folks do I know thats gonna put all of there business in the street....I only mention it because I think it is interesting to think about Whitney Houston and what it must be like to be her--a woman who grew up in a privileged, middle class background ( I dont know if Cissy Houston was rich or not, but I know she wasn't broke. Plus, having Dionne Warwick as your cousin and growing up knowing Aretha Franklin and other big names in the music industry means you have got some privilege. I look back at the early days of her career--she started off very afro-centric, yes, but she was in many ways a white girl with color---the image that she was given to portray. "Im saving all my love" "how will I know" crossover pop hits that appealed to white audiences. She only had the ONE album where she had an ethnic hairstyle---after that it was processed all the way. Alas, I will talk about this later.

Stella got her Groove Back

just to find out he's Gay! What the Fuck?!!!

I didn't do much of anything I had planned to do today. Well now I will. This morning Diane Rehms had a wonderful guest on her show, Evans Hopkins. He spoke most wonderfully about his experiences in the Black Panther Party and as a black youth growing up in the midst of the Civil Rights Movement. I think he is a very progressive man. He does incredible work around prison reform and the rehabilitation of the formerly convicted. I wonder if he is familiar with Angela Davis. Anyway, I am very supportive and glad that he is on the scene.

I believe I feel I need I can nurture.

Nina Simone: Just Like a Woman

Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain
Ev'rybody knows
That Baby's got new clothes
But lately I see her ribbons and her bows
Have fallen from her curls.
She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.

Queen Mary, she's my friend
Yes, I believe I'll go see her again
Nobody has to guess
That Baby can't be blessed
Till she sees finally that she's like all the rest
With her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls.
She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.

It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that--

I just can't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world.
Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes, you do
You make love just like a woman, yes, you do
Then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little girl.

I have always, to my fault, I suppose, been on the mind that I want to do it myself and if I can't I just dont want to. Hm...

I feel my uncle channeling me. There are constantly forces trying to keep me from hearing what I need to hear, get what I need to get. I feel his presence. I can see his warm, dark face, chocolate as it was when he was nearing the end. He looked more like any Goodson I have ever seen then than at any other time that I have known him. I rememeber seeing a photograph, in a frame, that hung on the wall in the hall outside of my Aunt Earnestine's room-- in the house that she didnt finish paying my grandmother for.It used to scare me, and I thought it was Martin Luther King, but it was either Uncle Lawrence or Uncle Archie. My uncle's voice was deep, smooth, rich, intoxicating and soothing. He was blessed and jovial and you could tell the pure delight that he took in living. His face, his smile, always illuminated his environment. He was also good in the soil- he could touch the earth and the soil would get richer, ripe for growing. He was a great seducer. And no matter what you might be able to say about Lawrence DeRamus lord- he was mean as hell, could curse you out and teach you words you didn't even think existed ( a trait he shared with my mama and Aunt Johnnie),he was not a misogynist, but he was certainly a womanizer ( I dont know, but my mother said he had an outside child, and I know he used to beat on Aunt Venetta-- he had a tube stuck in his stomach and he was still hollering at her, even though he was feeble. My sentiment was he needed to shutup before she pulled that tube out. Wouldn't have faulted her at all.

At anyrate, he was many things-- mean,honoray-- ready for a fight ( which in my book isnt a bad thing). He told me, and wrote in his autobiography that back in the sixties, when he was working for the federal government on the OCAP project the head of the Ku Klux Klan would call him and ask him "DeRamus, I hear you got a white secretary, is that true?" "Yes" "Do you drive down Interstate--- every evening don't you?" "Yes," "You wouldn't want any trouble out there while you're trying to get home, would you?" "I don't know...... but I'll tell you. I've got my pistol sitting right there in my glove compartment along with me and if you want to cause some trouble then you come on and you better bring Jesus with you because if I have to go I intend to take few of you with me." My uncle was certainly a Goodson. Lawrence Dupriest DeRamus.

At his funeral, my cousin Larry (his progeny. He sent him to Westpoint. We all have our faults) said over his father " Now all of you knew my father pretty well, as a matter of fact I'm sure more than few of you had been cursed out by him a time or two." Indeed, the minister that spoke over him had felt his wrath a few years earlier, at which point my uncle stopped going to church, but was still a member. My uncle's beautiful house in Enterprise was always a place of rest, calm, and serenity for me. I love(d) nothing more than sitting in his gazebo surrounded by all of those beautiful trees in his little grove, contentedly reading my book, feeling the breeze against my face, at peace. What a beautiful time. I need to go back there.

My uncle was a rambunctious, curious, intellectual ripe,incredible man of ability and strength. He also had plenty of foresight. He established a credit union, organized a teacher's union, organized chapters of the NAACP, started headstart programs and poverty relief programs, helped design a country club(ok, whatever), and was well-respected and admired. When he was near the end, his hair was completely white and his skin sagged, though still maintained its rich color. With his eyes, he could look down into your soul. At his funeral there were three mayors from the surrounding towns present and the governor of Alabama sent a letter of condolence. I was impressed. My uncle was a brilliant mind and always loved to talk with me about people of color, Pan-African movement, the world, and life in general. Thank you for him.

My stomach is a mess. I know it is my nerves. Eh. God deliver me.

The

rulings

of the Supreme Court for this term have captured my interests a bit. Firstly, I very much favor the way that they handled the separation of church and state issues that came before them. While I do not believe that public officials or other interested bodies should be able to make religious displays or statements on public property, those religious symbols that are placed as monuments due to their historical significance or that are placed within a larger contextual framework are perfectly ok. Their decision conscerning the right of

Eminent Domain

are quite troubling. This leaves minority communities at terrible peril, if city and local officials decide that certain areas need to be broken apart do to the advancement of a city. One should never forget the case of Overtown in Miami and how they dispaced all of those Black people in order to build a highway so White people could get to their homes in the suburbs from the city. The supreme court could have done more to protect minorities. Also, what is with this woman not getting any justice from the courts after her husband murdered her three children? Oh my God. What is the court doing? I don't believe in protecting police precincts anyway. They can be among the most corrupt. Eliminate COINTELPRO, racist white men, and phallocentrim, and then maybe.

Jon Stewart is so fucking funny. He tells the truth and makes me laugh and feel better, and even try to be a lot less cynical. Lord, please don't let me be George Bush.

I am sitting here at Willowbrook and there are a bunch of white children sitting here tearing up the chairs and everything else. Oh Teutonic Heroes.......

There is a gorgeous black boy sitting next to me. He is luscious.

I just watched Queer as Folk for the firs time in Ages. I haven;'t watched that show since I was in Alabama. Not regularly since we used to go over to Clay's and Rebecca's to watch it. I really do enjoy the show, but I will and most definitely must critique it. There is such an absence of color, which is the problem with the so called movement for gay rights anyway. No color. Very white. Even though there are a few jewish people, but ok. Anyway. Um. But I think that this show allows itself, and really is too much saccharine, with sappy white, middle- class,I share the same values with straight people story lines that do nothing but sprinkle fairy dust on the problems that this country, and indeed the gay community face. I believe even Will and Grace is less accomodating and imitation-oriented.

Made in America is a wonderfully touching film, it has always held a reserved space with me. Very good film. There is something about films from the 80s, they carried substance, dealt with issues, and addressed certain topics that expressed a wonderful and magnificent humanity. Ally Sheedy and Beverly D'Angelo are great.

Bono is a dumbfuck.

Ride the Maverick, Jesus. Ride the Maverick!

Alas, O is hot as all get out. I mean Jeeesus Jeeesus. That is some hot ass shit. I would love to climb that tree and take it own out into the solar system. Geesus I swear my my my my.

Lord, today I was stuck under a tent with a bunch of black folks getting soaked to the bone. It was a great time, but what a day!

Word of the Day

Is melange. It has been one of those words that has simply popped into my mind frequently over the last couple of weeks, I don't know why, although I made some tea today that was a melange. Anyway, there's a word for you.

I ran across this article about newspaper coverage of the Civil Rights movement. Pretty interesting, and stuff that I can use in my current project.

Turkey got denied Entry into the E.U. today. I have had my own musings about Turkey's bid for entry into the E.U. There are some interesting things at play here in terms of ethnicity, race, and politics. Turks exist on that periphery somewhere just outside of "Whiteness." As Western Society rose to the fore, and especially with the rise of British and U.S. imperialism, the game became how white can I prove that I am. Alas, Ian Haney Lopez's incredible book,White By Law talks in detail and with much clarity about the numerous court cases that were brought before U.S. courts, particularly the Supreme Court with people from Turkey, Saudi Arabia, India, China, Japan, and elsewhere trying to prove that the individuals concerned were White(because, alas, up until 1957, in order to become a citizen of the United States one either had to be born here, white or negro, or prove that one was white). Turkey's acceptance into the E.U., would have been a move towards Turkey's acceptance A: as an official part of the continent of Europe(always a matter of fierce debate--with the colored folks most adamantly pushing towards inclusion) and B: Turks would eventually be accepted as white, as indeed others have been brought in from the periphery into this inclusion (Greeks, Albanians, Slavs,people from the eastern two-thirds of Russia-- who still aren't regarded as white, however with them being in Russia, they are included as citizens of Europe). So now Turkey is left, yet again as that nearest and dearest, but still part of Asia. It's interesting the conflicts and adversity that arise out of this division. You have, for instance, Aristotle Onassis passing for Greek so that he could more smoothly flow through the "in crowd" in Europe (while, somewhat concurrently, Maria Callas, herself Greek, was passing for Italian)and you also have interesting commentaries such as the incredible film Steam(or Turkish Bath), which I have reviewed, that reflects upon a relationship between an Italian businessman and a young turk. Ethinicity is incredibly interesting and I find this courtship of Turkey and the E.U. absolutely fascinating. Perhaps elsewhere I will address the REALPOLITIK of this situation, as to which countries fell where in terms of support or opposition to Turkey's admittance into the E.U.

I find it utterly dumbfounded that the U.S. media and political groups around the country (although I say use what you will, have at it)are using the "women need to be protected" model as their new jumping ground for ending the war. I hope it is effective, but it stirs some odd and perhaps negative feelings towards it in me. One thing that I have always commended the Israeli army for is its inclusion of women equally in its armed forces(even though the Israeli military power structure, such the same as the US's, is evil). However, I think it will only be to the detriment of the United States to try and prop women back up on the (enslaving) pedestal that women have suffered under for so long. I feel a great deal of love, admiration, and respect for the beautiful and brave women in Vietnam who, as Jane Fonda states, were such good fighters when the time came, and of the women of Iraq who are fighting in their own ways to live each day with the presence of unending violence and U.S. imperialism.

I think that open relationships require a level of honesty that few are able to obtain. I believe that there should never be any possession in any relationship and that people should be free to move about as they please, however I believe that the utmost honesty is required for the integrity of such a relationship to remain intact.

The state of Virginia has decided that it wants to send those Blacks who were denied an education AFTER the end of segregated schooling, during the five years that they closed public schools, a chance to finish their educations and go to college. But they don't want to extend this to their descendants-- SO AS NOT TO BE SEEN AS AN ATTEMPT AT REPARATIONS. White men need to be castrated. Thats all there is to it. Power needs to be wrangled out of their hands and really their penises should be severed from their bodies, then we would have no more problems- at least from them. It puts me in the mind of Nikki Giovanni's poem in which she states something to the effect " Oppression by bell-bottoms would be ideal,and yea let's take it on down, Oppression by Diana Ross leaving the supremes would be most ideal since I wouldn't have nothing to deal with til the Mafia took over Motown, but Im hear to say that I am oppressed by crackers, and that's all I have to deal with." Alas, this power structure will be brought down and we will live in full recognition of our freedom, dignity, and integrity.

Why is the NAACP choosing a business leader to head its organization? Why isn't Merlie Evers-Williams the head? The NAACP needs to do two things pertinently. One: Stop acting like a business-- you are a civil rights organization and need to act accordingly and that would require Two: Getting rid of phallocentrism! That also means stop trying to pander to white business leaders and/or political leaders and also start doing some FUNDAMENTAL grassroots organization. The NAACP, if it had done like it should--could have been doing the work of the SCLC and the NAACP all along....It has to stop being the big lobbyist and become a champion for human rights....

I liked what I wrote

I very much have to disagree with your pronouncement of Radical Feminism. bell hooks describes herself as a radical feiminst. And true that there are some that are labeled as radical feminists by those outside of feminism--for whatever that is worth-- but I think that true, fundamental radical feminism and radical feminists, like dear sister bell are those who aren't satisfied with gaining a foothold in the current power structure, but who wish to see fundamental, radical, structural change in society..... Radical Feminist include myself;-), Angela Davis, bell hooks, Jane Fonda, Alice Walker, oh I very much believe Gloria Steinem, Germaine Greer, god so many to name. But alas, radical feminism believes in true, structural change to bring about a better and more just society.

I got up, put on my clothes intending to go out, and now I dont know if I want to.

Go to Hell

Now if your mind lies in the Devil's workshop
And evil duens your thrill
And trouble and mischief is all you live for
You know darn well
That you'll go to hell

So you're living high and mighty
Rich off the fat of the land
Just don't dispose of your natural soul
'cos you know darn well
That you'll go to hell

I say hell
Where your natural soul burns
Hell
Where you pay for your sins
Hell
Keep your children from wrongdoing
'cos you know darn well
That they'll go to hell.

I say hell
Man, woman were created
Hell
To live for eternity
Hell
With an apple they ate from the tree of hate
So you know darn well
That they went to hell

Now Satan was an angel in heaven
But he stirred up trouble and woe
So the LORD commanded that the Devil be branded
So you know darn well
He went to hell
Yeah, he went to hell
Yeah, he went to hell
He went to hell.

I played Nina Simone's Released album all through out the past election cycle, with special attention to the track, " Go to Hell," in an effort to damn George Bush, if indeed not this country, to hell. I played it again yesterday when they delivered the verdict which finally "closed" the Human Rights/Murder case of Cheney, Shwerner, and Goodman. It saddens me and pisses me off that white men get to use this to make themselves feel good, especially FORTY YEARS after the fucking fact. And indeed Trent Lott and the other senator from Mississippi need to loose their penises in lieu of their signatures on the most recent version of "I'm sorry we didn't do more to stop the crime of lynching." Where is Malcolm X's vision of taking the United States before the World Court and trying it for crimes against humanity? We need some movement people!!!!

I remember when I was in the sixth grade and I told my teacher I thought I was having hot flashes. She laughed at me.

I am in a creative mood...the spirit has possessed me. I just watched some television and I saw this ad for medicine to stop hot flashes. The list of side effects was at least two pages long... " If you take this medicine you might develop uterine cancer, you might go blind,etc etc," Don't but the medicine and go buy an air conditioner!

I always wanted to attend a coming-out ball ( a cotillion). My mother got to go to one and so did my sister. There have been some things that I have always been jealous of, but of course now I totally don't really care, but I definitely would have loved to have attended one. When I was little I used to be absolutely jealous of my sister and all of my cousins because they got to go to Catholic School and I had to go to school with my Aunt Johnnie. I am glad I did. I only liked the uniforms they wore (burgundy and white). Also, when my sister was little, my grandmother and my step-grandfather took her everywhere-- all over the Carribean, Florida, California. When I came along the only place I go to go was to their condo in Alpine Bay(somewhere in Florida). That place used to give me a headache, even though it was nice. When you opened the front door, the hallway into the main part was covered in mirrors and I would always walk into the mirrors. Leave me alone. But I did enjoy the jacuzzi. What petty children's stuff, but it was something I was thinking about this morning. I did get to go to Europe though. I want to go back too, soon.

Black Butter Fly by Deniece Williams

I have been in love with this song basically my whole life. I used to listen to it a lot in high school...in college I had it on napster. MUSIC MEANS SOMETHING!


Morning light, silken dream take flight
As the darkness give way to the dawn
You've survived, now your moment has arrived
Now your dream has finally been born

Black butterfly sail across the waters
Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings
Black butterfly set the skies on fire
Rise up even higher so the ageless winds of time can catch your wings

Ooh...ooh...

While you slept, the promise was unkept
But your faith was as sure as the stars
Now you're free and the world has come to see
Just how proud and beautiful you are

Black butterfly sail across the waters
Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings
Black butterfly set the skies on fire
Rise up even higher so the wind can catch your wings

Let the current lift your heard and send it soaring
Write your timeless message clear across the sky
So that all of us can read it and remember when we need it
That a dream conceived in truth can never die
Butterfly

'Cause now that you're free and the world has come to see
Just how proud and beautiful you are

Black butterfly sail across the waters
Tell your sons and your daughters what the struggle brings
Black butterfly set the skies, set them on fire
Rise up even higher so the ageless winds of time can catch your wings

Fly
Butterfly
Yeah, yeah, yes
Fly

A New Slogan

Castration is the Key!
Bush-Dick= Freedom!!!

I want to write in depth and very seriously about being Black in a White university and being a person of color/Black person pursuant of advanced degrees in a graduate program that is controlled and predominantly populated by whites, in a white academic setting. I doubt if I will write all that I want to here.....it will probably be an essay that I write-- outside of the blog, but I think it is crucial, critical, indeed pertinent to talk about this. As I have interacted with other Black graduate students, faculty members, and other Blacks-- here at Purdue and elsewhere and talked with them about their experiences, I feel that this is something that needs to be addressed, discussed, and there needs to be some movement and activity surrounding this. Just today, as I was on the trolley, I started talking to this Black girl in the humanities and she was telling me about the difficulties of being in her department. This needs attention, and the enviornment in which Blacks in higher levels of education have to exist need to be improved. There is no reason for anything to stay the same. Otherwise, I believe castration is definitely an alternative.

The politics of attracting a man are very interesting. I met Charles and we started hanging out and it progressed from there.....It is happening again....although who knows where it will go this time.

I am in love with

Ilmixor's

if I had a hammer I would smash patriarchy!

I am a Sapphire

! You are most Like A Sapphire !
Dark, mysterious - but unforgettable. You have a
deep
beauty. Delicate, and shy you try to stay away from
the
limelight but often your intelligence puts you in
at the
deep end. You're like a Sapphire, because, your
beauty is priceless.
You're intelligent, full of opinions, and not
big-headed about it all.
Sometimes you need to put yourself out there, as
you can be a bit shy.
Congratulations ... You're the mysterious gem
everybody wants to have and learn more about.


?? Which Precious Gem Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

I am very greatful for people like J.S and his wife....great people....and I take a lot from them. I suppose I have learned that there is no such thing as a nurturing Phd program--that you must hold tight to your stomach and fight like hell...and play politics with the best of them. I have tried hard to shed my Elizabeth Rex tendencies, but I suppose now when someone bangs on the ceiling above me with pots and pans I'll just have to lock them in a tower and throw away the key........

Here is a wonderful

discussion

of the song "Moonshadow" as recorded by Labelle. Also, it is a discussion that builds on my previous discussion of soul music and what it MEANT. What it means.....

I just wanted to blog AGAIN about three Divine women, Patti Labelle, Nona Hendryx and Sarah Dash who cooked up some good music. I absolutely adore Moonshadow and I am going out to buy this album. Soul Music.

Oh, I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, oh if.... I won’t have to work no more.
And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, oh if.... I won’t have to cry no more.

And if I ever lose my legs, I won’t moan, and I won’t beg,
Yes if I ever lose my legs, oh if.... I won’t have to walk no more.
And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south,
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, oh if.... I won’t have to talk...
"Just think, if those six musicians didn't have any hands, they wouldnt be able to do what they just did"

Firstly, I want the United States to fuck with the U.N. I would like to see this one....and I will put my money on the U.N. Secondly, I love cooking for myself. What a beautiful pleasure.

There is a reason why they call it soul music....cause it goes straight to the soul. What are they doing to the music?

I'm being followed by a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
And if I ever lost my hands
Lose my plough, lose my land
Oh, if I ever lose my hands- Oh, if...
I wont have to work no more
And if I ever lose my eyes
If my colours all run dry
Yes if I ever lose my eyes,I won't have to cry no more.
Yes, I'm being followed by a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
And if I ever lose my legs
I won't moan and I won't beg
Oh if I ever lose my legs- Oh if...
I won't have to walk no more
And if I ever lose my mouth
All my teeth, north and south
Yes, if I ever lose my mouth- Oh if...
I won't have to talk...
Did it take long to find me
I ask the faithful light
Did it take long to find me
And are you going to stay the night
I'm being followed by a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow

REFUSE TO BE INTIMIDATED!

Today I listened to Merlie Evers on the Diane Rehms Show on NPR. I also watched the film Mississippi Burning. I think the crux of the message of Malcolm X-- and the ultimate message that needs to make itself out to Afro-Americans/People of Color/Minorities/Oppressed Peoples is to REFUSE TO BE INTIMIDATED BY THE WHITE MALE POWER STRUCTURE!!!!

I just took some silly little online quiz about which royal I would be and I ended up being Catherine de Medicis! That made me so giddy! Am I crazy or what?

I can feel the cold rambling around in my chest. Eh, evil spirits leave me!

One of my grandmothers graduated from Spelman, the other graduated from Alabama State University. Just recording more of my history.

I miss Charles. To continue on a totally separate thought, although related somewhat.... I thrive on the beat of the city, and there are always those forces that try to take me away from that. I will eliminate them god help me.

There is a girl sitting right next to me that looks just like Dr. Szpiech

I realized today that I am a plant.Also, I composed this poem:

I am a statue, unwilling to fall
you cannot hurt me, I am immune to your touch,
my soul is a plaster, hardened with time.
I am a statue, you cannot get near
I am confined, restricted and bound

House music just possesses such incredible energy and a raw creativity that it is right up my alley. Charles broadened my knowledge of house music-- I have enjoyed it before, when I had the opportunity to hear it, but Charles introduced me to a lot more of it, especially certain DJs. Ohh--- Alas, DJ Butter from Stephanie's party. I want to find that man and marry him.

I had a great dinner tonight. I absolutely enjoy cooking for myself. I will never order from fastfood again when I can help it. I love to cook, it is a joy, but I rarely get to do it since I don't have a car and this town is just shitty enough to make it impossible to get to where you need to go without one. I really am paying attention to what Bethany said at lunch-- "You are what you eat."

I met Jason back oh, perhaps around Thanksgiving of Last year, but I had gone to Chicago and on the bus back we sat next to each other and talked.I remember him, and our initial meeting was so interesting and memorable because I recognized hm as a BLack person and he was surprised, as he is very fair, able to pass for white or be mistaken as white. He is an interesting boy. From California, smokes cigarettes compulsively and is an interesting conversationalist. The people you come into contact with.

Life; this is the stuff of high drama. We live it and it is only for us to be strong enough to take the pain and pickup the pen and write about it. Thats what my calling is for, the sharing of the human experience. I wanted to dance with Charles to Chaka Khan and experience him out on the floor of the hottest nightclubs in CHicago. I enjoyed dancing with him. I loved it. I enjoyed keeping company with him. Evenings out with him were like such a breath of fresh air. I felt completely comfortable with him. God, the pain.

Charles has moved away, and I am very sad about that. He was so good for me and very sweet. Generuous to a fault- he would give his right arm for you just because. God, w hat a spirit. I felt comfortable around him and he made me feel great, the world lightened up in his presence. He t old me he was moving a couple of weeks ago and I thought it was at the end of this week. Isnt it something else that people can come in and out so easily? So beautifully. I have his phone number;-). Alas, I envy his freedom. I want to roam as he does. I hate being confined! I hate being restricted and I hate not being able to MOVE as I want to. I will either move or the earth will explode. God Help Me.

Charles moved to Alaska. He was very sweet. I wish him well.

I should learn not to expect the worst in people. Am I mean?

Excerpt from Jane Fonda: My Life So Far

I began to be aware that I was followed constantly and took care not to drive over the speed limit. Nonetheless, we were stopped numberous times on one pretext or another and I had to show my driver's liscense and registration. I saw it as a form of harrassment and realized that for the first time, I had stepped across the line that allows upper-class white people, especially celebrities, never to have to experience what other people, especially people of color, face all of the time- only far worse. There was a tightening in my stomach; I never knew what would happen next. I was aware of the possiblity that I might be set up, but I also felt a deepining resolve to not turn back.

Drinking Orange Juice can almost be orgasmic.

An Exchange Involving My Grandmother Once with Some Person from the Prattville Community...Before I Was Born

"You One'a them there things?" "One of what things?" "One of them there DeRamuses."


Hahaha. Yes lord, We are Deramus. My great-grandmother's name was Sadie Mae Goodson DeRamus. SHe married John Archie Bradson Deramus and had eight children, reared several including a foster child-her motherless nephew. Of her eight, she educated them all. My great grandfather's name was Morgan Goodson ( and therefore we are Goodsons too). His wife was named Mattie Roper/ Goodson, and together they had twenty children, roughly more than half of whom lived to adulthood, and about nine of which left offspring and descendant lines. There oldest child was King Philip and others whose names I can remember right off the top this morning are Henry Oliver, Macauley Ware(Fess Goodson),James Doc, Sadie Mae, Alfreda, Ethel, Caroline, Emma,....if I remember more I will post them. My great great great grandmother's name was Caroline Roper, who was a white woman. She had nine children, six with my great-great-great grandfather, Greenberry Smith, a mulatto, one with my other great-great great grandfather, and two that were completely white. Greenberry himself, had 49 children.

Last night I had an interesting dream...I should write what I remember of it down, but I was distantly, but closely enough related to this politically active radical family. My uncle was assasinated. I grieved. I also reveled in their beauty of spirit and their integrity.

Men are wicked.

What I have noticed of Lafayette

There are a lot of wedding rings...this university picks its people well-- keeping their normativity intact. Even the so-called gay people. White, heterosexual, heteronormative- Lafayette.

A Severe Injustice: And the Beginning of What I feel is going to be a Serious movement

This past Saturday, June 4,2005, Police in Indianapolis attacked, brutalized, and finally arrested 24 protestors against the development of I-69 through Indiana. They tear-gassed, kicked, and brutalized several. I feel that this action, and the responses that are pouring in from those who were present there as well as other activists, is the beginning of a solid and newly grounded and committed movement. It looks very much like the 60s again......with committment being made to struggle.... In that light, this is an account of the events from Jack McKivigan of IUPUI.


I took my eleven year-old downtown on Saturday to participate in
the "Roadless Summer" protest against the construction of I-69. We
met other demonstrators at the "mall" area between Meridian and
Pennsylvania. When the protest moved to the Capitol area we decided
to detour and get an ice cream cone first. When we finally caught up
with a few straggling protestors we learned what happened--so I
guess I we escaped possible arrest by just "a few licks." (Sorry.)

I have talked to several eyewitnesses to the arrests and what I have
learned makes me believe that yet another serious violation of the
freedom of assembly has been perpetrated by the Indianapolis Police
Department, led by its "Intelligence Division.". You can make up
your own minds about the spray painting of the capitol building, but
I believe the real criminal element that day was our city police.
They have been spoiling for vengeance against the Solidarity/Paper
Matches collective and other non-main-stream political groups ever
since losing a law suit to them last spring for illegal arrests and
searches occurring at the time of August 2003 meeting of the
National Governors' Association in this city.

After the spray painting incident at the capitol, the protestors
departed the capitol grounds but were "pursued" by elements of five,
count 'em, five different law enforcement agencies. When a large
number of those protestors were "cornered" near Military Park across
West Avenue, the police began targeting and arresting individuals
known to them for past prominence in demonstrations over recent
years without any knowledge of whether they had been the individuals
responsible for the spray painting. Note that the charges brought
against most of the twenty-four arrestees is the generic "disorderly
conduct" one. These twenty-four will now be forced to obtain legal
counsel and be subject to months of legal harassment. Most if not
all ultimately will be exonerated or have their charges kicked down
to the "infraction" level but the IPD will have had the opportunity
to disrupt seriously this summer's Anti-I-69 campaign as well as
settle some old scores. Anyone at IUPUI willing to donate their time
or money to assist these "detainees," can contact me.

The reprehensible action of the IPD on Saturday is just further
evidence that they are the real "rogue political force" in this
city. It is time for the mayor and the city-county council to step
in and place the IPD under a fully transparent system of civilian
supervision before every citizen's rights disappears.

Jack McKivigan

Jane Fonda's book is such a revelation! One of the most beautiful people indeed!!!!

I have interestingly gained the ability to scat. From out of nowhere. I started really today.

Dick and Betty Nelson so reminded me of my Uncle Lawrence, and she especially of my AUnt Vernetta-- the classy socialite wife, beautiful and with depth. Ohh what a sight. Alas, I really enjoyed myself tonight and today. The heat was intense, but it was beautiful. I enjoyed Wafaa and his friend Luis, and I enjoyed all of the art. What a beautiful day. Charles is a gift too. Thanks for him.

Talk About Queer

One of my favorite Hymnals from when I was little and we attended Coppin Chapel was,

We will break bread together on our knees, on our knees
we will break bread together on our knees, on our knees
when I fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun
oh lord have mercy on me.

The House by the Side of the Road
by Sam Walter Foss

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
in a fellowship firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran----
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,

Where the race of men go by--
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I,
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban----
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road,

By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both part of an infinite plan---
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead

And moutains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice,
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road---

It's here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish---so am I;
Then why should I sit in the scorners seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I have read a lot of autobiographies. I will talk about that later.

I remember seeing a lot of hospitals when I was young. A lot of death scenes. Not a lot, but it was a few. They were always grim, important, and very grave. Aunt Sadie's when I was three( she died of cancer, this one I dont remember much at all, but I was there), Aunt Bertie's there in Chicago, she died at Michael Reese, and Uncle Archie, who was at the Mayo Clinic. A lot of waiting rooms. I would sit in the waiting room.., and then finally would be lead back into the room where they lay and I could feel their hand or talk to them). It was grim, and I didnt always get to go. I remmember Uncle Archie's soo very vividly. My mother took his death hard. He was my grandmother's youngest sibling and the closest to my mother in age. In a way, they grew up together. She was his sidekick and he taught her what she knew. My mother cried for years after his death. The mention of his name would set her off in torrents. It always seemed like those of my relatives knew that their time was near. My uncle Archie sobbed with my mother for days. My Aunt Bertie knew, My Uncle Lawrence knew. I hope he is at peace. My grandmother was at his side when he died. Ah me.

I dont know how much I will write at this moment, but I want to write about my early childhood.On my days off from school (during that wonderous period when my mother would come in in the mornings and ask me "Brandon, do you want to go to school today?") and I would answer no, I got to stay at home with my Aunt Bertie, who had just taken an early retirement to deal with her cancer that was slowly eating away at her and that would claim her in 1985, when I was on the other end of my fourth year of living. I used to get to stay home with her, at her house (that I, not knowingly called "Aunt Johnnie's house"-- how I would learn about that later) while my mother and Aunt Johnnie, and Aunt Betty when she was there, would pack off to their respective schools and work in the mornings. We would set out on our day.

Days usually began, after they left, with a call from Uncle Lawrence from Alabama( I would cheeringly answer the phone to speak to my beloved Uncle) to check up on my Aunt Bertie ( he was still working for the government then, not retired yet). This followed with me finding things around the house to do while they were on the phone, which might include watching the television ( I don't remember doing that too much) or making up a story, or playing with the beautiful stuff that decorated my aunts house. My Aunt Bertie moved to Chicago in the early sixties and bought that house, after Fess' death, and my Aunt Johnnie moved in--and took over, which is why I called this house Aunt Johnnie's when I came along.

After the phone call, we would then embark on the kitchen where we would delve into making the most glorious things imaginable as my Aunt was an excellent cook and could bake with the best of them. We would make gingerbread houses, and gingerbread men, and gingerbread women ( I got to decide what we would make out of the gingerbread. I didnt like gingerbread so much to eat as I did to make) and cakes, and cookies, and god knows what else we cooked up in that kitchen-- and we made several things in one day. Then my Aunt would go in her room and busy herself around. I remember quite vividly her taking off her wigs and placing others on, or just sitting their looking at herself in the mirror. I thought it was odd and interesting, and I used to watch her while she did these things. We got along very well, my aunt loved me and I loved my aunt. I only remember her chastising me one time, and I didnt know why then, and it still puzzles me, but once we were walking towards the church- our church there in Chicago, Coppin A.M.E, the church I was baptized in by eh I can't remember his name right now, but it wasn't Farrell Duncombe it was.... Anyway, I was playing "step on the crack, you break your mother's back" something not out of the ordinary, but she pulled my hand and told me to stop, I shouldnt play that game talking about my mother. I never understood that one.

On the days I did go to school, I would take Aunt Johnnie's hand and after we dropped off Aunt Betty at the school where she taught (where there was a mean Doberman at the door), and my mother at Robert Taylor, we would make our way to Price where we would go into our classroom and she would let me set up her film projector and pop popcorn if we were doing anything that day. I was soo spoiled and it was wonderful, all of the teachers doted on me and I remember very vividly when Mrs. Wright( I think that was her name, eh I am forgetting people's names ) a very attractive woman, young and a teacher there at Price, made me so mad-- not really, but I acted mad. She pinched my cheek and told me "Oh Brandon, everytime I see you, you make my heart skip a beat." She was always flirting with me, and I would get so red. That time I told her I was going to call the police. Everybody laughed. What beautiful days.

There were such beautiful people at Price and there names are slowly fading--I will have to ask my mother. Mrs. Bull, the white lady who was my first grade teacher ( I had Aunt Johnnie for headstart and Kindergarten-- we were a bit upset when they didnt put me in her first grade class), who was a great friend to Aunt Johnnie; Mrs. Barrett( her daughters China and Tye ( think that was what it was) were so much fun and interesting older children, teenagers, and I liked to visit their house; the music and arts and crafts teacher whose rich, chocolate face I remember, Bernard- who lives right across the street from Aunt Joyce; and Aunt Joyce herself when she would walk over from the Lincoln Center to take me home with her sometimes in the evenings when Aunt Johnnie had to do something. There was also Big Marie and Little Marie, grandmother and grand daughter, Big Marie was one of Aunt Johnnie's teacher's aides and little Marie was in my class.

I remember Aunt Bertie's retirement tea very well, I remember it was a very elegant affair and I got to meet and see all of the teachers and the principal from her school, it was held somewhere, I dont remember. When Aunt Bertie died, I learned not to fear death, and I believe I was quite imbued with a special blessing as she told me before she passed that she was going to die. It was her preparing me for her end. When my mother and Freda ( I remember them as being the one's who approached me) came to tell me that Aunt Bertie was dead, I told them I already knew. I was quite calm and at peace, my mind was full of questions though. I remember asking if she would get enough to eat in heaven. My Aunt's funeral was a grand and morose affair, Reverend Duncombe preached her funeral ( it was Reverend Spivey that baptized me, and what I took from it, I have remembered always-- and everybody, especially my mother and Freda, would comment about how I always remembered and recited the poem that was read at her funeral. "Let me live in a house by the side of the road to be a friend to men." Apparently, it was a poem that she loved and recited many times over.

When my Aunt Bertie and my grandmother were girls, their hobby was to memorize and recite poetry. It is something my grandmother still does. My grandmother also writes plays and poems, and other little things-- mostly what I knew was from when she was active with her Senior Citizen's council and she would write plays for them. She also writes poems and plays for the church.

I had my first seizure no more than about a year after Aunt Bertie died, because I was still at Price. I remember. sometimes in the mornings, when we would just get to school, I would pretend to be asleep in the car so that Aunt Johnnie would have to drag me out of the car and then we would go in the school. That day, I wasn't pretending. I was sitting in the back, as I normally did-- in between Aunt Betty and Nikki(when we had to drop her off at St. Ambrose) or whomever was in the car. I was out. My aunt woke me up, and I walked from the parking lot to the school in a drunken stupor. I went to class, as she thought I was perhaps playing or just needed to wake up, and then after a while she took me to the office and they called for an ambulance. I was not asleep, but I was in a daze and I couldnt remember who I was or where I was and my head hurt. The next thing I remember I was lying in a hospital bed and they had a needle in my arm and it hurt. My mother was standing there with her hand on my forehead, and they had my arms down,unmovable. I then went on a regiment of tegretol and some other pill, but tegretol stayed with me until 92. At that point, I hadn't had a seizure in a few years.

For a while, it was me and my cousin Brooke (whom I adored, loved, and cherished) who had seizures ( Brooke is mentally handicapped)and who took tegretol. Brooke took about twenty pills twice a day-- it seemed to me, some of them big horse pills. We used to share our tegretol sometimes. Brooke had seizures all of the time. Mine were rare. We were at the Lincoln Park Zoo one time( on one of our splendid outings) when Brooke had a seizure and fell over into the animal pit. Someone had to go in and get her.f Another time, she had one and fell over the railings on my mother's front porch. She broke her arm then, I do believe I remember. We were special children. I remember my mother telling me at one point when I was little that people who were sick were special.

I so remember my doctors when I was little. The nice jewish man who was the dentist, and the other one who prescribed my glasses. Then there was Earnestine Willis, that most wonderful black woman who was my pediatrician. I wanted to be a pediatrician when I was three years old. Since then I have wanted to be a writer. Then there was Henda Sack, the incredible Jewish woman, my psychologist, who made no small effort to spoil me. She used to call me her lammchen. She had a wonderfully thick German-Yiddish accent. I loved going to the University of Chicago Hospital. My mental image of me when I was young is me as Yentl. Ha. Oh my childhood was beautiful...... I'll continue later.

I am now reading Jane Fonda's autobiography, which I picked up today at Von's. I love Jane Fonda, I dont know why I didnt remember until moments ago that I have previously read another account of her life ( I believe a biography or perhaps it was an autobiography). She is a beautiful creature. I have always been attracted to her and she possesses a gamine-like quality that just captivates. She has the stunning allure of a well-keeled black woman, with the likes of Diahann Carroll. There has only been one scene if a film involving someone using the bathroom that I have thought was done well, and that was Jane Fonda sitting on the toilet in Fun with Dick and Jane. I just thought, god, how sexy is that scene. Anyway, her book is quite captivating.

I have spent most of my life trying to escape oppressive heat. From Chicago summers (which were bad, but bearable), to Alabama's intensity and now to Indiana. I don't know wi heat affects me the way it does. It is so debilitating. Perhaps it has to do with my epilepsy. I want to find a comfortable climate/environment.

Milk is not my friend. Never has been.

Today the exhumed Emmet Till's body. God, Mamie Till was STRENGTH. This countyr has a lot to pay for.

I dont know why, but I was thinking about the accumulation of wealth and power, and property.... and I then thought of the jews leaving all of their stuff behind in Germany and Central Europe....and the Nazis and other beneficiary Germans getting their houses, furs,chandeliers, jewelry. "Hard Work" really is a myth.

This is the beginning of week two since we really did anything(not counting a little in...). I want charles to deflower me!

To add to my thoughts about white male appropriation of nonwestern cultures....and interracial/interethnic marriage, I think it is interesting to look at examples of interracial/interethnic marriages. Those that come to mind right off of the top include Alice Walker and Mel Rosenthal (a jewish man), June Jordan and her first husband, another jewish man,Nina Simone and the white man she married,and Lorraine Hansberry and Robert Nemiroff (another jewish man). It is interesting that all of these ended in divorce and that three of these four later became lesbians. Im not making any correlations, its just an interesting observation. Alas, there have been some beautiful marriages as well. I can't think of any right now, but there are some. To think of another interracial/interethnic marriage--my brain hasnt stopped processing them-Diahann Carroll and Vic Damone,which also ended in divorce. Its interesting that these are all women too. I would like to look further into this one.

I wanted to blog something this morning, but I dont remember what. Perhaps I need to work on my screenplay.

dating white men is good in and of itself.... I have been involved with a few and am attracted to them. I think the best kind though, are those that acknowledge and realize their positions as white men.....with hope they might over come it......The most well intentioned still needs to realize (very complicated issue of course)what positions they hold in this society...but I think relationships with white men can be a beautiful thing...and have seen and witnessed some that are very beautiful. There is still hope.

An Asian woman sits , a pissed look on her face, irate and highly sensitive to the irony of her white husband sitting next to her, whom she can't stand to touch. With knowledge that she is married to her oppressor.

Ella Fitzgerald Nina Simone Nancy Wilson Barbra Streisand Abbey Lincoln Billie Holiday

I wrote a good omelet this morning;-) With tomatoes and onions. It is a very pleasant day outside. Bob Schieffer is a good man.