It Has Come to My Attention...

Gizmodo.com 

That the number of unhealthy foods circulating the internet is growing. At first, I didn't mind it. The tumblrs dedicated to bacon everything, glorifying everything fried, they were comforts-

Spokesperson

I'm not sure if I've ever written about this but I'm pretty sure I haven't. Last night I went out with some coworkers and awaited to hear comments I knew were brewing behind curious eyes. Bar settings seem to be a breeding ground for socially-charged conversation that is normally a little uncomfortable/awkward? The conversation got interesting when we started talking about guys, what type of guys we were into and other fun dating-related subject matter. When I tell people my "preference"it doesn't seem to be met with too much surprise, but it is met with unbridled assumption that I somehow hate myself or think I'm disconnected from my heritage, which is I assure you not the case. It's an understandable conclusion to draw, but it simply is not true. However, this was not what got under my skin. What really irritated me is the notion that every single black person is a spokesperson for their entire race. I was asked why a lot of gay black men prefer white men. Um. Ok. I have no idea. Number one I am not a gay black man, but even if I was there is no possible way for me to conceive the thoughts and actions of all gay black men no matter how smart or informed I thought I was. I honestly enjoy talking about race, but in a situation like this with a presumptuous (unintentional I know) leaning it's hard to have a desire to continue the discourse.

I had a conversation with one of my friends about how the world perceives me and my ongoing battle with my indifference towards the world's perception. I am me. I can be no one else and considering how short life is I don't want to be anyone else. It's too hard to conform when conforming means losing yourself. And I'm not saying by any means that I'm "different" or "better" in any way shape or form. All I'm saying is that I can be nothing else or more than who I am. It's devastating to realize that individuality is a privilege- a privilege denied to many, many people. My face is suppose to represent every African American person (not even just women apparently) without question or doubt. My utterances carry the weight of my entire race- my history, my ancestors, strangers, people I know, people I'll never meet, people who hate me, people who love me, etc. You get it. Imagine having THAT much pressure on yourself every day you present yourself to the world.

I forget not everyone took race/sociology classes in college and aren't aware of certain societal constructs, rules, stupid "normalcy" that we're taught oh so subtlety. So I am by no means mad at this person for asking me such a loaded question, more disheartened by the reality that most people see nothing wrong with asking questions like that in mixed company... or ever really.

And as a tribute to the late Amy Winehouse...

RIP girl.





I'm out.

Hip Hop is not whack... foo'

I have been trying to expand my musical inclinations to extend beyond the current Indie trend of bands like Hot Chip, Yeasayer, MGMT, Grizzly Bear, etc. Realizing that my hip hop knowledge is embarrassingly limited, I have decided to search for more artists besides Mos Def, Talib Kweli, and Nas. I haven't begun just as yet so I won't be name dropping any new mcs until after my research is over. However, the real reason I'm writing today is to talk about this ongoing trend of people who don't like rap music, calling it crap. I remember in middle school I fancied myself an avid "rock and roller," and along with my peers, felt it necessary to say "rap is crap." Looking back now, it was only childhood naivety. I have since overcome my hasty judgment of rap music. Nowadays, though when people my age take such a passionate stance against rap music, purely on a nonsensical bases, stating that none of the songs make sense and sound "bad," I get really irritated. For instance, I googled "rap music" and this image came up

The image is from laughitout.com. I think we all know who the true idiots are ^ ahem^.


When I talk about certain artists, I'm more likely to call their music hip hop and not rap because of the varying connotations of each word. Alright, here's where it gets a little fuzzy. In my mind rap is more beat based, not focusing too much on lyrical ingenuity, but music you can get down to. Hip hop is more intellectual, explicating problems of daily life, with more of an experimental element to it. Here are some examples: Rap to me sounds like Cash Money Millionaires, Nelly, Ghostface Killah, etc. Hip Hop sounds like Jay-Z, Pharrell, The Roots, Jurassic 5, etc. I can be totally wrong, but these are my interpretations of the words and of course there are exceptions, but that's my general comprehension. Rap music has gotten a bad rep, considering its sordid history with unapologetic sexism, homophobia, and in some cases predilection for violence. It is what it is. I used to get upset with certain rappers for talking about women in such a foul, despicable context, but I can't let some stranger singing about stupidity get under my skin. Although, I understand the arguments about young people listening to the music and being influenced by what they hear, I always consider "What about their parents?" Music is entertainment, and if parents are upset by what their kids are listening to or nervous about them developing unsavory mentalities then they should talk to them about it. Get more involved. People love to blame outside forces for their own imprudence.  Musicians are entertainers, not role models but people get them confused, which causes lots of problems.

 photo taken from smc.edu

I totally pulled this picture out of context from an article asking if rap music had a negative impact on young people. Oddly enough, the question was posed by someone named Chris. Most of the comments are really vapid. Here's the link if you wanna check it out.
Maybe I'll get into country music too... Nah. I do like some country music though! I'm not saying all of it is horrible, though a majority of what I hear I am not a fan of, but no longer will I say, "I like all genres of music, except country," because that's just like grouping every rapper/hip hop artists together without rhyme or reason and making an uninformed, blanketed judgment- not cool. So begins my quest... my journey if you will, into the depths of underground hip hop. If you don't hear from me in 48 hours... it's because my mind's been blown and I'm immobilized by the music. Ha... we'll see about that.



I'm out.

Hey, you're weird.

Alright guys and dolls. I have been meeting quite a few people while living here in the BK, and I must say either 1. A majority of them have been apprehensive to pursue friendships for whatever neurosis they have, 2. Have been incredibly awkward/said really offensive, off-putting things, or 3. HAVE BEEN PLAIN FREAKING WEIRD. Is it in the water? Am I going to catch this inexplicable weirdness, too? Gosh, I hope not. I was just speaking to a good friend of mine about how hard it is to make friends. At this point in our lives are we so set in our own ideals that we can't branch out and meet people who don't share our EXACT SAME interests?! What are we... 85?! I still love going out and meeting people, don't get me wrong, but now I'm not so easily distracted by the novelty of strangers. I am more wary of people I don't know because they are all POTENTIAL NUT JOBS! So, yeah.
I remember going out to Barcade one night and meeting this girl I thought was totally cool so I was like let's exchange numbers and hang out. BAD IDEA. Come to find out this crazy girl has some SERIOUS issues. Without prompt she brought up some kinky sexual preferences she had (she said she preferred guys "dicks" but loved "tits" and wished she could have both- I by no means was offended by her desires, but extremely shocked that she would tell a complete stranger this), laughing hysterically after.She kept bringing up the fact she was Irish and proceeded to tell a very racist joke, telling me not to be offended- the joke: What does a black kid get for their birthday: PUNCHLINE: Your bike. Really?! How incredibly stupid. Um. CRAZY. At another place, I was with my friend and his boyfriend and we were all talking, sitting at the bar, and this other guy comes up to us and starts to hit on my friend's boyfriend- knowing he's taken! Telling us his boyfriend and him are having troubles, spilling his relationship details to an audience he met 5 minutes prior. WTF CRAZIES?! Oi. I just don't understand the audacity of people to just say whatever they want without consideration for others.

Oh and dating. Uuuuhhh guuuuuhhhhh. Yup, I swore I'd never talk about it on my blog, but it has to be the most confusing, awkward social experience(?). It's funny because no matter how many people I ask for advice I get the same answers, "I don't know," "I have no idea," "I'm confused, too." No one can seem to crack the shell of this age old human interaction. What does it all mean? Why do we put ourselves through it, knowing the result- more confusion and frustration. I think I'm just not cut out to date. Hanging out with my friends is just so much less stressful and not potentially mortifying... well, sometimes. Also, I wish people would just be honest. None of these lame excuses- just say what you feel. We're all adults here, right? Geebus. I'm not talking about one experience bee tee dubbs, but my general (mis)understanding of dating.
Can we just be friends? So much less pressure. Hate it. I think I'm gonna be a recluse with 96794875934 cats and imaginary friends.

I need to get out of the city. I need some good ol' nature. Somebody take me camping.

pretty please?!





I'm out.

Subway Antics

I have not been gracing the NY social scene as of yet, considering my entire life has just been moved into an unfurnished room in Brooklyn and well, some organization is necessary. My room looks like a crack den right now, black garbage bags of miscellaneous items strewn about, full suitcases with clothing spilling out, a nest of blankets and pillows on the ground for me to sleep until I can procure a bed. It's great though, I'm so happy to finally be home. I am very pleased with my living situation and I'm insanely lucky to have such awesome roommates.


I had my first day of work yesterday- I was late. Nervous and excited, I left the house a few minutes after I planned and hopped on the train. After getting to Canal Street and running for my life towards the Q train, I slumped into the seat relieved- until, all hell broke loose. There was an announcement over the speakers, explaining the police had been called. "Oh, what now," I thought to myself, "This cannot be happening right now." It was. One plain clothes officer following a disgruntled passenger came to the car and pointed to an older gentleman who had been sitting on the train before I got on, reading with his briefcase in his lap. "That guy," the passenger with the policeman says, "Him." Without hesitation the plain clothes cop sternly asks the man to step off the train. Utterly bewildered, the man stands up and immediately begins asking what he did. Then 3 or 4 more police officers come running to assist with the obviously overpowering perpetrator. This poor man looked like someone's dad or grandfather, hardly anyone who would be wielding scissors and threatening passengers.Yes. Apparently, there was a man who pulled out scissors, "threatened" someone with them, then jumped off the train. So, the wrongly accused stood at the wall while three police officers thoroughly searched his person and briefcase, only to find papers, a plastic knife (oh my!), and a banana. The entire time they searched, the man asked that they show him a little respect, him being an elder and all, but the police laughed haughtily and ripped through the man's belongings without saying a word to him. After finding nothing, the plain clothes cop came back on the train and asked if anyone had seen anything. Silence, then someone said no. He then asked if the older man was on the train already or if he got on more recently. Someone said he'd been sitting there. The officer looked amused as he walked off the train, ordering the other officers to cease their aggressive inquisitions. Then the strangest thing happened. They all started to smile at each other. Giving the "perp" back his suitcase they told him it was all procedure, but I don't remember if they apologized or not. The older man seemed extremely relieved and told the cops he understood. I even heard laughter. WTF?!
The entire time this was happening I couldn't help but to think, he's black, that's the only reason he's being targeted. Then I thought of that phrase driving while black, and thought damn, he wasn't doing anything. He was just living while black and that's enough to almost get arrested. Maybe my view of the judicial system is a little jaded (to say the least). I'm glad he wasn't arrested, though and intrigued by the subsequent events. Also, during the fiasco, there was a couple sitting across from me frowning the entire time. The woman whispered, "police brutality,"to the man sitting next to her. I was watching those cops like a hawk, preparing myself to be a witness in a case if anything should happen, my hand clutching my phone ready to document any mistreatment. Luckily, there was nothing worthy of reporting. It was all just a big misunderstanding that caused me to be late for my first day of work. Lamesauce. Work was-interesting. The store is very different then the one I'm used to, but it was just my first day so I'll refrain from formulating any judgments.


I'm out.

Language

I was on the metro today on my way into DC just to gather some things from my friend's place and I witnessed a perspective changing event, which makes me feel mildly exploitative in that I was covertly relishing in someone else's experience, comparing it to my own and feeling that much more dynamic (and privileged?) being exposed to new, different ideas on humanity. Sign Language. Never have I thought of sign language in the way I should have, as an extremely complex culture that heavily accentuates the importance of expression through hands and body movements. Like any language, sign language formulates unique ideas, thoughts, opinions sometimes nobody can understand, but users of that language.
So these four guys got on the train and sat pretty close to me and immediately started signing. One guy was really animated, telling a story as his friends intently watched and interjected their thoughts occasionally. I felt like I was intruding on their conversation so I stopped sneaking glances at them and presumed pondering about life. Ah life. Ugh life. Yeah... life.
Then, I thought about the way people who speak take for granted the inflection in their voice, the way they change their tones and raise their voices, but then I thought what a horrible thing to think! These friends on the metro obviously had no trouble understanding each other using their own form of communication. There were distinctive ways in which they all signed that were unique to their own personality.

I hope I don't sound completely ignorant or offend anyone who uses sign language, I will never fully understand the complicated culture.

These are just my (incomprehensible) ramblings.

I'm out.