Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises Presents…Panama’s Propositions

What’s beef??

Well according to the late great Notorious B.I.G., beef is when ya mom’s ain’t safe up in the streets. It’s also when you make your enemies start your jeep. Beef is what happens when I see you, and guarantee that you’ll be in ICU.

One more time…what’s beef??

Rap music thrives on beef and the public eats it up. How else can anybody explain 50 Cent selling 1.1 million records in 4 days after dropping two mediocre singles? It’s all in the beef. Beef resurrected Nas’ latent career. Beef…its the other other white meat. Or is that turkey?

Well, being as rap beef is nothing new, a group of talented individuals gets lost amidst it all: R&B singers. For the record, nobody really gives a shit about thugged out (or even not so thugged out) singers taking their issues to wax. Nobody wants to hear how you gonna dance all over somebody else’s dancefloor or how you’re dance moves are more crisp than another. Hell, I found it comedic that Usher would try to front on Justin Timberlake on stage at the MTV Music awards talking about who the better dancer is. Kicko…you BOTH stole Michael Jackson’s style.

Shut the fuck up.

Nobody gave a damn about the R. Kelly/Sisqo beef though I have to say it seems like Sisqo got the last laugh here. He may have blonde hair but at least they all belong to him and not some 12 year old little boy. And if I’m not mistaken, Chauncey Somethingorother from Blackstreet had beef with somebody. Apparently nobody gave a shit about that either. And nobody cared about the Jagged Edge/112 beef that was brewing all over Atlanta radio back in like 2000 over who the best worst group out of Atlanta was. See nobody really gives a shit.

Most of the time.

However, every now and then we care about R&B beef. And it usually takes somebody really high profile. Which brings me to the point of this here discussion. Because there was one R&B battle we ALL wanted to see. It all started one warm day when I heard the song “Survivor” on the radio. I listened and was like are they talking SHIT???? On a single???? These chicks are straight up calling out the other three girls who got the boot!!!!!! I was amazed at what I thought was the first real battle R&B song. I was just waiting for LaTavia and Letoya (AKA the group Angel) to come back and drop that ill melody on Beyonce and ‘nem. I was just hoping they were gonna pull out all the octaves on their candy asses. You know, bring out who was really behind all those whole notes and shit.

But alas it never came. However, I was still amazed that somebody made a battle R&B song. It just seemed so unprecedented. None of the R&B gangsters ever made battle songs. No, it took the first ladies of new age R&B to come thru in the clutch and kick open the door of what I hoped would be R&B singers in seedy pool halls trying to out range eachother on the tops of pool tables while thugged out bandana rockin’ piano players provided the musical landscape just like DJ’s do in rap battles.

Basically, I gave all of the credit for the first R&B battle song to Destiny’s Child.

I was wrong.

You see, just yesterday while perusing my CD collection I came across a CD that I hadn’t listened to in a while. Mostly because somebody stole it and I just repurchased it on Sunday.

[***Sidenote: You know you just might have a problem when you manage to by 12 CD's in less than a 12 hour timeframe and you managed to get a full 8 hours of sleep between making purchases. From two different stores in two different counties. And you only intended to buy one AKA uno AKA einz AKA 1 AKA 99-98 (do the math, graduate). It's like a crack addiction. I know I don't need any of them but I just can't help myself cuz I feel so good hoping that it's going to be worth my money. Kind of like prostitutes and chocolate.***]

While listening to this particular CD from 1988, I came across a song that instantly dumbfounded me. I had to repeat it over and over because I couldn’t believe that the singers on this song (who some 17 years after the release seem like they were the lamest cats on the planet during their heyday) were telling folks to basically get off their nuts and be original with theirs. They used the word “clones”, “imitate”, “try their best to recreate”, and “perpetrate”.

Now I don’t know who they were talking too or about, but ladies and gentlemen, I offer you America’s first R&B battle song courtesy of everybody’s favorite group:

New Edition.

The song?

“Where It All Started” from the N.E. Heartbreak album. Today I’d like to set the record straight and drop the knowledge on you that New Edition has been bangin’ on wax since 1988 on the R&B side of things and hasn’t gotten the credit they deserve for being gully.

To New Edition, the innovators, the originals (well, you know, after the Jackson 5 but who’s splitting hairs?), the Roxbury crew straight up off the mean streets of Boston…I salute you for taking your beef to the streets and tellin’ any R&B fakers out there to come correct or not come at all.

Others have tried, but nobody has come close. They are New Edition, and they keep their movements fresh…cuz they are where it all started from!!

Check the venomous lyrics yourself (ironically not written by them but by the team of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis) to hear the kings kick that real shit, shit to make you feel shit, bump it in the club shit…

The First R&B Battle Song-

New Edition “Where It All Started”

Dialogue: Picture this where it all started was back in Boston, Mass. Some time ago (believe that) and by reopening the doors to all youth a little salt was thrown on me and my boys (you know what I’m sayin’) but now we’re back picking up where we left off (aw yeah) and through this song, process of elimination will be done (you better believe that)

Yo wait a minute! Hold up! Wait! Stop! Huh! You didn’t know we was coming back like this on ‘em my brother.

They did it in Atlanta. They did it in NYC. But they haven’t seen what we gonna do down in DC.

Washington, DC is runnin’ this blog shit. MD and VA is running this blog shit…my folks in Bmore, is runnin’ this blog shit…

…when we think it up write it down and hit save homie….

THAT’S IT.

And with that in mind, the good folks at Jackson G. Tickle Enterprises, The Kajuana Show, and This Actually Happened, Inc., are bringing you the Official:

THROWDOWN IN BLOGTOWN AKA WASHINGTON, DC

Come one out and get jiggy, ignant, or grizzly with it on FRIDAY, MAY 20, 2005. We’re going to redefine Happy Hour.

The folks in Atlanta think that they can have a good time?? Go check the fun and entertainment that was had over at Yolie’s spot, or Brutha Code’s spot. Go check out what happened in New York over at X’s spot or Will’s spot. Sounds like they all had a lot of fun.

However, you know how I get down. And no happy hour planning is complete without the Queen herself, Kajuana, as well as the First Fiancee of the Blog world (I’m deeming myself the President), Edwige.

Overheard in an office building on the outskirts of Washington, DC, on Monday, April 25, 2005:

“I heard they trying to get it so gully that they are trying to find a spot that we ain’t worried about going back to for a good 6 months!!”

“Well I heard that they saying that all the DC/Baltimore Bloggers is talkin’ about it and they tryin’ to outdo them Atlanta folks! Girl, they even say that Brutha Code dude might show if he ain’t off travelling the world…I GOTSTA be there!!!!”

“Yo son…I heard that Panama cat that be speaking that ill knowledge is tryin’ to get down with the get down!!!! Peace to da Gods and da Earfs!”- 5 Percenter overheard on The Green Line in DC

Yelling off in the distance: “Ooooooooooooh…he’s sexxy!!!”

“I heard Kajuana got the ILL tiara! Yo if she’s there…I know its going to be live!!!!!”- overheard at Ben’s Chili Bowl on U Street

There you have it folks…the streets are talking. For all of the DC/Baltimore bloggers, friends of the bloggers that will be coming with them (cuz they want to know exactly who this Brutha Code cat is), and anybody who will be in town on Friday, May 20, 2005. We’re gonna have the Happy Hour to End all Happy Hours. We don’t care if they won’t let us back!!!

The place as of yet is To Be Announced. But the date and time are set.

Date: Friday, May 20, 2005
Time: 630 (though we know you all won’t be there til at the earliest 7pm) until you can get home safely or just decided to ride out…
Place: Being scouted as we speak

Mark your calendars…the takeover has begun.

PS-If you think you’re going to be coming thru, let a brutha know just so we can get some idea. Hit me up in the comments or in an email. We got to make sure we pick a spot with enough space and chairs, and know that we have enough folks so that if we do get threatened to be kicked out, we can make a stand!!!!

****************

Also, We The Voices has been updated. Come read an album review of Amerie’s newest offering, about BET’s shutting down of its Nightly News, and about America’s Next Top Model. All that and more…at We The Voices.

I’ve been watching a lot of music videos lately. It seem’s like the South has completely taken over the musical landscape right now. Save a few artists like Jay, Nas, 50 Cent, and The Game, its pretty much all about Southern artists rise and eventual fall.

With that in mind, and because it’s Friday, and because I just don’t give a fuck, and because I’m from the South (bigups to Alabama and the good Westside of ATL-Adamsville, just call me The Adamsvillain) I’ve decided to lay out my random thoughts on anything related to Southern rap. I have no idea where this is going, however, I’m gonna take shots, I’m gonna be nice…just wait ’til you see my thoughts…

…I’m gonna beat that…you know the rest.

Panama Jackson Presents Ridin’ Dirty Down South: Thoughts, Words, and Gold Teef

-I don’t give a shit what you say, Outkast’s ATLiens is a better album than Southernplayalisticcadillackmusick. Southern…is a classic and all because it put ATL on the map and really created that playa ideal that we associate nowadays, but ATLiens just had the fiyah!!! I’m making a stand on this one!

-Who in the SHIT thought it was a good idea to make screwed up VIDEOS???? Now I realize that with Houston’s resurgence onto the music scene screwed music is making an impact for whatever reason (cuz trust me I don’t get why folks feel it…unless you’re sippin’ on sizzurp or high as the fuck in which case I totally get it) but SLOWED DOWN VIDEOS????? That’s just dumb.

-Who is Mike Jones?? Exactly.

-You know, I was an instant fan of the Ying Yang Twins song “Wait”. Regardless of your feelings on them, this song is fuckin’ great. Is the content filthy? Yes. It’s nasty as it wants to be, yet its undeniably ingenious and the simple beat just makes it that much more effective. Couple that with the hot video, and I still won’t buy the album. BUT, I will continue to watch the video and dance to it in the club.

-Puffy’s group Boyz N Da Hood’s video for “Dem Boyz” actually DID remind me of NWA for some reason like all of the print media has been claiming. I couldn’t believe it. And for some reason or another, I’m actually a fan now. It’s a damn shame how easy a reference to NWA can make me an instant fan. I just might need help.

-Can somebody please explain to me the allure of Pitbull?? I really don’t get it.

-Lil Jon is really starting to spread himself thin. Either that or you can tell who he really respects by the beats he’s giving away. He did a track on Amerie’s underimpressive new album, the title track “Touch” actually, and the beat is just sloppy and clearly a throwaway. It sounds like the watered down “Yeah” which was already watered down with some shitty song on Mario’s album.

[***Sidenote: Though this doesn't really fit here, Amerie's new album is just...boring. She really set us up for the okeydoke with "1 Thing" then created a hollow ass album with soulless songs and her attempting to sing. If you think she can actually sing, then you probably think Michelle from Destiny's Child can sing, in which case you are the worst judge of talent outside of the guy who found Pretty Ricky. Who, you ask?? Exactly.***]

-Speaking of Pretty Ricky, they are some group from Miami. They have this video that I’ve seen once. And I shit you not, this is the most confusing group EVER. The group name is Pretty Ricky, I think, but there are 4 prominently displayed, similarly dressed individuals in the video. Now they start of singing, so I thought it was a singing group, but then they all break off into shitty raps…all of them. So I don’t know if they are even actually singing, or if they’re a rap group, and if any of them is actually Pretty Ricky. The worst thing is that the music on the song is actually pretty good, too bad they suck more ass than a chimpanzee in Hollywood chillin’ on Sunset at 714am.

-Nearly every state in the South has had some artist make major moves on the national scene thus far except South Carolina, Alabama, and Arkansas. Hell, even Kentucky got in on this with Nappy Roots. I might be a little biased, but I’d say that Alabama needs to be the next spot to blow. Actually, Alabama did have them two dudes whose name escapes me but they had some album about cadillacs, pimpin, and bein’ dirty…ya know from the South.

*thinking about how dumb that last statement was given that’s what everybody down South does*

Aww, skip it.

-Goodie Mob’s implosion and the subsequent shitty solo albums (save CeeLo’s) provided by the members have made me listen to Soul Food on repeat for months. That album was a sleeper classic.

-Speaking of Cee-Lo, the song “I Get Around” was one of the best songs to come out in a long time.

-Is Virginia really the South for music purposes?

-You know, Bubba Sparxxx’s Deliverance album was seriously slept on by the masses. Now I’ll admit a fat white boy rapper named Bubba gives me pause too, but dude has some skills and is able to ride Timbaland’s beats almost as well as Magoo. And Timbaland completely crafted an album for him beatwise that made it a worthy listen.

[***Another Sidenote: I just mentioned Magoo. I think Magoo sucks as a rapper. However, he was magic over Timb's beats as far as his flow, though his lyrics made me want to slit his wrists with plastic spoons and telephone cords while squirrels watched Under the Cherry Moon.***]

-Is it just me or do you think that if Andre 3000 didn’t have Big Boi to keep him grounded, Andre would release an album with dogs howling at the moon and the shit would still be good?? Maybe its just me.

-I don’t know how he did it, but Lil Wayne became one hell of a rapper seemingly overnight. It’s like he grew out his hair and learned how to ride beats. His delivery is sick as hell on his album. Though I do really think he blew it with the horrible prison video for “Go DJ.” I mean good God, Lil one…why not make that the video it should have been that would be lighting up MTVJams. Nope…we got a prison.

-David Banner has always been a good producer. I knew he was going to be somebody when I heard the Crooked Lettaz album Grey Skies featuring him and his partner in rhyme, Kamikaze. It’s a shame they didn’t stick together cuz Kamikaze was actually pretty good, but David Banner was better. And he had the beats…so sad jojo.

-Hmm…is T.I. really the King of the South?

-How can anybody not love Trick Daddy? Dude makes entertaining songs, great videos, and has hella personality. Somebody needs to get him his own reality show.

-Every now and then I listen to the lyrics on some songs that I like from certain Southern artists. It’s usually not a pretty sight. Such goes the case with Bonecrusher’s first verse on “Neva Scared.” My god, This might be the absolute worst verse of all time. Hell, it ain’t even really a verse. He has like 4 whole lines…of pure shit. It’s nothing but gibberish and he sounds likea gotdamn fool. Just take a gander one day and you’ll want him to just perish…

…PANAMA SAYS JUST PERISH.

-Mannie Fresh is one entertaining ass dude. He can’t rap worth a damn and will tell you so. But I swear, he makes some entertaining music and videos. I just love that “Conversations” video. Hell since it dropped I can’t stop telling folks to perish. I saw this dude walking towards me the other day and the outfit he had on nearly prompted me to tell him that. The only thing stopping me?? I had on a pink shirt.

This is getting long so I’ll end it with this one…

-Youngbloodz “Damn” is the best song to come out of the whole crunk phase we’re in. And that dude Sean Paul is A-town to the heart. I mean if you EVER want to know what an ATL native is…that is it. From the speech to the slang to the swagger and style…

…he makes me proud.

Conspiracy. (noun). An agreement to perform together an illegal, wrongful, or subversive act.

I think too much.

And as is such, I tend to come up with lots of random conspiracies and non-sense that at the time may seem to make sense. Though I’d like to point out that the Law of Averages says that somewhere along the way, at least on of my rants is going to be on the money. For instance, I’m still convinced that Starbucks is indeed “the man” that we speak about in our day to day activities. I’ve never been fully convinced that West Virginia actually exists as a state but is more or less a place that aliens and white people come from and use as training grounds in case black people get too “uppity” because most normal people have never been to West Virginia nor questioned its existence.

I’m also not sure if I believe in Hell as this place full of fire and brimstone. No, I think hell is the I-95 lockjamfullofcarsgoingnowheremakemewannakillsomebody traffic corridor between Washington, DC, and Richmond, VA, and Satan is really the asshole in the car with you on the trip who is either: sleeping, trying to tell you how to avoid the traffic, or messing with the radio controls when you just need some peace.

I really hate those bastards.

But there is real conspiracy out there that is threatening black existence in inner cities everywhere. It is the precursor to Starbucks. It is what makes it possible for the idea of Starbucks in the ghetto to exist. It is none other than…

…the white listserv.

Yes. You read that right.

What is the white listserv?? I feel a definition coming on.

White Listserv. (noun). formerly known as the white phone call, white fax, white morse code. Created in the 1960′s and evolving over time, this white listserv is the means of communicating to white peoples (primarly WASP’s) across the nation of the neighborhoods in particular cities that are scheduled to be relieved from Blacks and/or Latinos control and transformed into inner city urban enclaves of gentrification and just all around whiteness. Synonyms: Starbucks.

Let’s examine this shall we? Yes, let’s. In the beginning there were neighborhoods. Inner city neighborhoods. They consisted of mostly white people and black people were confined to the slums and ghettos of the city. One day, a lone black man, let’s call him, James, made some money and started the trend of other black folks making money and decided to move to where the white people were. They didn’t mind one black face and James seemed nice enough. His wife was high yaller and his kids could read. But more black folks made money and followed James. And it started happening throughout the country.

We reached the residential tipping point. So what did white people do? Created suburbs and got the hell out of dodge. So now the slums just moved to where ever James was because as is fact, when everybody finds paradise, it ceases to remain paradise.

Say it unison with me: Damn damn damn James.

This occurred for a good 30 years.

Well one day circa 1980, James’ old neighbor, let’s call her Jenny, decided that she wanted to move back in to the city. That’s where all the amenities and services were, as well as the parks, black men, and Icey’s. But Jenny wasn’t sure where to move because all of the neighborhoods were inhabited by les negroes. She asked a friend who asked a friend and that’s when it happened.

The first white phone call. The call intended to tell Jenny where a prime spot would be to move because they were taking it over. Who is they?? The white people. She was told the area, found a place and moved in and lo and behold, the neighborhood changed. This situation began to occur in major cities everywhere but more slowly and with more subtlety and to mostly fringe areas close enough to the suburbs but still in the city.

Now they’re everywhere. Now they’re in neighborhoods that only a few years ago white people wouldn’t dream of walking thru for fear of being robbed in their sleep. But lo and behold, there they are. Walking down Georgia Avenue in Washington, DC; or Atlantic Avenue or Fulton Street in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn; or down Lowery Blvd (though it will forever be Ashby Street in my heart) in Southwest Atlanta’s West End community. You know those places where seeing a white person initially made you do a complete double take; one that almost made you crash.

However, there they were walking their dogs or jogging as if they didn’t realize they were playing with their lives.

These are all people who today get “the e-mail.” Yes that one from the white listserv who told them that if they bought in now, they would see tremendous gains on their property value becasue the neighborhood was going to be flipped into an inner city enclave of diversity, though the goal would be 65 percent persuasion and 35 percent unpersuasion. If they could live with it for 2 years tops, their dreams of inner city living complete with all that the city has to offer would become a reality.

They took up the offer.

And it’s still going on across America right now. White e-mails are being sent out left and right. Neighborhoods that normally would be be black through and through are now becoming enclaves where white people feel safe because they got the email. It’s my thought that somehow when you’re born and receive a Social Security Number, that they tag you if you match the necessary criteria. They have some white indicator. This same white indicator pushes you to different white listservs if you marry a black person and have black children. You’re priority becomes different…however you’re still on the list and when you receive that first email, they make you pledge to never tell a person of color, unless your husband or wife is indeed, colored.

It’s out there, weaving its way through the world wide web as we speak. Some white person who wants to move into Washington, DC’s H Street Corridor, no excuse me, the up and coming H Street Corridor, will check his email today and be informed that now is the time to get in because soon, it will be THE spot for white people. He won’t be the only white person for more than a few weeks as the neighborhoods will change over night. The same thing is happening in inner city neighborhoods across America. Times they are a changin’.

All thanks to the white listserv…existing in a community near you.

(*Said to the tune of Ying Yang Twins club banger and new hotness, “Wait”)

Wait til they on your block
Wait til your prop taxes fly
Wait til they everywhere
They gonna turn yo’ neighborhood white…

Then they’ll be like BUY! BYE BUY! BYE BUY! BYE (repeat like 8 more times)

They gonna flip that neighborhood good!!

***THIS PSA AND CONSPIRACY THEORY HAS BEEN SPONSORED BY PANAMA JACKSON AND THE GOOD FOLKS AT JACKSON G. TICKLE ENTERPRISES, OWNER’S AND OPERATORS OF WE THE VOICES, WHICH HAS BEEN UPDATED FOR YOUR LITERARY DELIGHT.***

…Ciara.

Yes that Ciara.

I have to admit something here. I was a Ciara hater. I didn’t get the appeal. I’m like who cares about her “Goodies” and really, “1,2 Step” was well, boring. I hated that people were comparing her more to Aaliyah than say, Ashanti. Because comparing her to Aaliyah was placing her into the stratosphere of female performers who provided that heat when you needed it. And she didn’t. She just didn’t have “it”.

You know the same “it” Beyonce has, but Ashanti doesn’t. Or that Whitney HAD, but Mariah didn’t.

It’s just that quality that makes you care.

[***Addendum to last statement about Mariah: You might care if you're mixed, unless you're Panama Jackson, in which case you just don't give a flying f**k.***]

That was until I saw…

“Oh.” Yes, the video for “Oh” changed my life. It was a Tuesday in March when I first saw this video. Partly cloudy outside and on the verge of rain. But then the video came on.

The clouds parted and the sun shone bright. The rain went away and the itsy bitsy spider continued successfully up the water spout, fearlessly, triumphantly…at last, SUCCESS.

All because of this video and its lovely siren, Ciara.

[***THIS JUST IN: WE THE VOICES HAS BEEN UPDATED! COME CHECK OUT NEW MUSIC REVIEWS, READ MORE ABOUT FANTASIA'S SONG "BABY MAMA", AND PART 2 OF "WANKSTAS" AND THE COMPARISON OF GEORGE BUSH TO 50 CENT!***]

First, let me just say that as far as I’m concerned, this is the best video to come out in the past 4 years. I have nothing to base that on, nor have I done an extensive review of videos of the past 4 years, however, I’m not only sexxy, I’m writing this, in which case, in Panama’s City, anything goes…as long as I say it!

Sounds like Bush logic doesn’t. New name: Bush-it.

In this video, Ciara does things with her body that I’m just not able to talk about around children. She moves so fluidly and so wonderfully that I just want to stand up, open up my window, and say, “Glory Day!!!”

I’m a dancer. Hmm…let me rephrase that statement because I don’t want to be taken as a funboy who wears tutu’s and tights. I like to dance and have a serious appreciation for folks who can actually dance well. Not just move to the beat, but actually do what people in some cultures would refer to as “dancing.” Ciara, is a dancer. Not ONCE in that entire video was I not captivated by her ability to control her derriere or upper body or gyrationisticus pelviticus.

[***MORE JUST IN: HEAD OVER TO KILLACAL'S SITE TO READ MY EXACT THOUGHTS ON PUFFY'S EX MISA BRIM-HYLTON TRYING TO GET HIM FOR UPWARDS OF $21,000 A MONTH FOR CHILD'S SUPPORT. SOMEBODY GET ME OJ SIMPSON ON THE LINE. STAT!***]

Basically, that video is pure amazement. Not only that, but for the first time ever, she doesn’t have her head cocked to the side everytime she says a word. That’s been one of my biggest problems with her. It seemed to me as if she had some sort of neck issue that required her head to remain at a 75 degree angle at all times, which explained why her hair was always covering one side of her face. Smoke and mirrors, friend.

Smoke and mirrors.

Aaliyah had that same problem if you remember, followed by the rumor that she was cock-eyed. She always had on those doggone huge sunglasses or had her hair covering her face. But after getting my Aaliyah calender I sifted through the pictures vociferously in order to determine if she was indeed cock-eyed and much to my enjoyment, she wasn’t. Glory day.

Well, in this video, Ciara has her hair pulled back, requiring her to maintain her head at a perpendicular 90 degree angle, flush with her shoulders. After seeing her hair pulled back, I became a believer. No longer was I required to hate her cock-neckedness because she didn’t have to do that. It was a choice!! And I’m pro-choice!

There’s one particular scene where she basically mounts a car. Good gracious people. Her arms look so toned and caramel as she works that moneymaker. I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was discovered at a strip club audition that Jazzy Pha just so happened to judge. She moves so sensually and fluidly that I can’t help but be afraid to ever see her in the club. I can’t step down from a challenge like her, but I’d lose. She’d put that thang on me that I wouldn’t be able to handle. My pride would probably stop me just in time.

Add to the fact that the song is actually good AND that she shouts out Adamsville, my neighborhood in Atlanta (bigups to MLK Blvd, SW over on that WESTSIDE), and you just have a great song. We’ll just act like it ain’t the watered down strip club version of T.I.’s “Rubberband Man.”

And she’s right, cuz down south we ride “sloooooooooooow…”

So to Ciara I’d like to say I apologize for any hate that I threw your way. You are not a one-hit wonder and you are not Ashanti. Any comparisons to Aaliyah are fair and accurate and you only have one album out. And though I haven’t heard your album for fear that it might suck, I’m content with you never ever doing anything in life but paying somebody to keep “Oh” in my video rotation for the next 50 years of my life. You have made a fan out of me and have made dark skies bright and sunny.

You are the truth. You make me say, “Oh”. Not “O”, though a case can be made for that one too, except I’m not a woman in which case, the case has been closed.

However, you make me say, “Oh….”

So because I now love you with all that is me, and have bestowed the ultimate complement upon you of being Aaliyah-esque, do me a favor would you??

Stay away from 8-seater planes with luggage on them and pilot’s who don’t recognize you. The world already lost one angel…just take AmTrak or Boeing 757′s or even Concorde’s and make sure that the pilots know exactly who is on the plane.

So to Ciara…thank you. You make me say “Oh.”

One of my boys is a genius. Like a real one. As in, the stuff he works on, I can’t even understand. This is what happens when you get a Ph.D. in biomedical engineeering. You start veering into what people tell me is English, however it all looks Greek to me. Which is ironic since a lot of it is actually Latin.

Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir??

Anyway, being as he’s a genius, and is obtaining a Ph.D. in shit I don’t understand, he gets to go to conferences and present his findings and research in places like Italy, Cali, etc. Thus found us in San Diego during the weekend of April 1-4. There was some HUGE Experimental Biology conference going on in San Diego last weekend. So what do me and 5 of my other friends do??? We decide to ride piggyback on his genius and turn his conference into a mini-vacation for us.

Four days and three nights of basking in the beauty that is California. You know, I must say that California is really a beautiful place. Just driving from LA to San Diego was great (we all flew into LAX) though the greatness was reduced by one of my boys special affinity to…water, you know oceans and seas…tap water. Yes, water. I won’t tell you what seeing water (yes, water) does to him but let’s just say it made the rest of us in the car nervous.

Anyway, another vacation down in the record books and shoutouts to my folks. Now that I think about it, I need to send another shoutout to my OTHER boy who is about to start a Ph.D. in Psychometrics in NY. What is psychometrics you ask?? I have no idea, but they give out Ph.D.’s for it, so I’m all for it. I’d shout out the women I went with, but they are going to get a special shout out later in this post. Either way, for my farewell group vacation, this one was great.

So for this trip, I decided to recount the escapades by doing a list of things I learned while in San Diego. Ready?? Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go!

Panama Jackson Presents…Life Lessons Gleaned While Hanging 10 in San Diego (In no particular order)

1. Everybody knows that Superman could withstand anything, but apparently some people forget he had a slight allergic reaction to Kryptonite.

I love my friends. They are dreamers and believe they can do anything they want to in life. Especially drink as much as they want with no consequence. Telling a 6’1″, 230 pound man that he can drink as much as he wants results in the following (unbeknownst to him at all): ordered rounds of drinks for everybody and then drank them all himself, he stumbled down stairs, he STARTED smoking (I turned around and this cat was smoking a Cigar…not well, but he did attempt to inhale…congrats), the complete and UTTER DEMOLITION of a Wyndham Hotel bathroom. It was so bad that I cleaned it up once, and woke up the next morning, and it looked like I hadn’t touched shit. Yes…to my boy Francis M.H. AKA Superman…NIGGA…Kryptonite FUCKED up Superman. From restaurant bathrooms in Harlem, NY to hotel rooms in sunny San Diego, Cali-for-ni-a…this cat does damage!!!!

2. San Diego is the most beautiful city in America.

I’ve been to nearly every major city in America. I’ve seen some nice cities, but I’ll be damned if San Diego isn’t the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. I mean everything looked nice. From the beaches to Old Town San Diego to the streets of downtown, to the Gas Lamp district. Honestly, if you’re homeless and reading this over somebody’s back in an internet cafe, just go to San Diego…it’s worth it.

3. Diversity does live…just not anywhere but San Diego.

You know, I’m amazed at something. I’ve never seen a more diverse crowd of folks than in San Diego. There were black folks, but they hung with everybody. There were no stricty black, or white, or Asian crews. It was everybody just kicking it to be kicking it…with everybody. Which only pissed me off in the club because some of these fuckers (read non-black folks) have no rhythm. No rhythm means you bump into me often. When Fat Joe says Lean Back and you lean sideways, well Houston, we have a problem.

[***Sidenote: How fucked up is it to say Houston we have a problem now that the singer Houston gouged out his eye? Like he really DOES have a problem. Not that anybody cares about Houston, so maybe it aint important. In fact, fuck it. We The Voices has been updated(or will be tomorrow anyway)!!!***]

But other than that, diversity is alive and well in San Diego.

4. Be nice to people, they might be able to hook you up later.

So I like to talk. A lot. Well, while waiting for the valet one morning to bring up the car so we could head to breakfast, I started chit chatting with one of the valets named Nick. He’s from Tennessee. So we started talking about that and I asked him about places to go in San Diego he tells me this placed called E Street Alley. Apparently its a hot spot in San Diego. Well, after a little while longer, he tells me that if I come through, he’ll get me in ahead of the line and at a discounted rate. And you know what…he did. Shoutouts to the homie Nick from The Wyndham Hotel and E Street Alley for hooking me and my friends up and making us look like VIP to the folks in the line.

Moral of the Story: Everybody is somebody if you just talk to them…and they might have passes to the club.

5. Being a DJ is an art that is often lost in translation.

Umm…the DJ at E Street Alley (that was jam packed full of people trying to get their party on) basically, well, sucked. This fucker played either shit you didn’t want to hear, or songs that came out in 2002 or before. Newsflash bitch…it’s 2005. The only new songs he played were”Candy Shop,” “Lean Back,” and Nivea’s “Feelin’ Good”. THAT’S IT. Everything else was shit that made you say…huh?? Or was old as dirt. OLD AS DIRT I SAY!!!

Bastard.

6. Talk to people cuz hell, they might make you feel important and famous.

So I met these white chicks while standing in line to get up to the beach level at The W Lounge and Bar, another of San Diego’s hot spots. This is nothing new, I’ll strike up a convo with a tennis ball if its there. However, apparently I made myself seem to be important enough where they asked if they could go up to the second floor VIP Beach lounge part with me. Why exactly, I have no idea. Everybody who stood in line was going to get up there eventually. They were cool as hell though and apparently got their holla on to some folks up in the club. Good times.

Either way, I’m officially changing my name to Panama “I Can Make You Famous” Jackson.

7. San Diego might be the prettiest city in America, but LA still holds the crown as having the finest women in America.

Now look, for everybody from NY or hell, anywhere in the northeast, midwest, or down south…just perish.

Panama says just PERISH.

I really love that Mannie Fresh “Conversations” video!

Facts are facts. I’ve lived in the South, hell its home. Atlanta has some of the finest women anywhere, this is true.

New York does not.

*ducking tomatoes and kitchen sinks being thrown at me*

Houston has gorgeous women.

Baltimore does not.

However, even the chicks working at the broke down spots in LA look good. This was not the case in San Diego. It’s not to say that we didn’t see gorgeous women its just that we didn’t see many of them…at all. Except this one chick working at some place in Old Town San Diego. Me and my boy had to do like a quadruple take. Aye caramba!!!

But yes, San Diego is beautiful, its just a shame that all the fineness of LA didn’t trickle down.

[***Another sidenote: I don't wanna hear SHIT about the fact that all of the women in LA are fake and whatnot. Hell, I've seen statistics. Horses are freezing at phenomenal rates nowadays so don't go making up some shit about how they're all fake if you are currently the owner, operator, and CEO of "Hair Ain't Mine" Industries. Smooches! )***]

8. Apparently in some cultures, calling a fish shack a restaurant and making up some shit about it serving chicken is okay!

Before I explain this one, I’d like to send and extra special fuck you out to the homies…

C-Breezy, Jonetsu, and the blogless OH and a Dime representa, Shakedown from Shaketown.

Fuck y’all.

You see, these assholes decided they wanted to go to seafood restaurant…hmm…no, to a ribshack that served fish. Thing is, I don’t eat seafood like that. Never have. However, they informed me that they called ahead and were told that they had chicken. Now, I was a little skeptical about this anyway because you’re in a sea town. Seafood restaurants, fuck that, ribshacks that serve fish, probably only serve fish. But no, I was informed that they would have chicken.

So we get there and they had chick alright…as a kids meal. Now I’m a grown ass black man. I’m not ordering no gotdamn kids meal. And these asses were like, you should order TWO kids meals cuz that would be like one grown folks meal. Fuckers.

And to make that even more fucked up. They were TOLD that they only had chicken kids meals. Do you think they shared that little tidbit of information with me??? NOPE!!!

And let’s get back to this fish-shack place. They kept talking about this place like it was a restaurant. Not just some place where you place your order than go sit wherever the hell you can on the wooden benches or deck furniture and have to eat with the flies, seagulls, and pigeons who keep flying thru the windowless dining area, scratch that, open area with chairs and foldout church tables. So our trip to a restaurant turned into a carry out fish shop that had fish/squid/shrimp tacos. That’s just not right.

So to my friends, I love you all. KISS MY ASS!!!!!

9. You can learn a lot about your friends when you visit their homes.

Hmm…I ain’t callin’ no names, but one of my friends lives like 5 minutes from gotdamn Dr. Dre. Yes, THAT one. Not to say that they are in the same neighborhood and borrow sugar from one another, but it didn’t take no damn time to get from his neighborhood to hers is all I’m saying. You just never know…apparently, in school I found the brokest bunch of friends I could find as far as males were concerned, but somehow managed to find a few female friends who were from some rather well to do families.

Lesson for the day: When in school, make rich friends so you can learn and see different shit. Being broke and visiting broke friends just reinforces what you already know…life’s a bitch and then you die.

Just PERISH!!!

and finally…

10. When booking a flight, MAKE SURE YOU READ THE GOTDAMN DATE ON ORBITZ, TRAVELOCITY, ETC. BEFORE HITTING SUBMIT.

Hmm…I love my friends. One in particular had caused a hell of a ruckus because he had to be back to LA to catch a flight at noon on Monday. We were scrambling like crazy trying to figure out who was gonna rent the cars or who was going to drive back early. Well, Shakedown from Shaketown, ends up heading back to LA early for work and takes my boy Francis M.H. with her. They get to the airport on time.

Or so they thought.

Turns out homeboy schedule a return flight to NY FOR THE DAY AFTER WE GOT TO LA. So this cat caused all kinds of shit for us trying to get back to LA JUST TO MISS his flight by, count ‘em, THREE DAYS. We were worried about hours, NOPE…THREE DAYS. I swear, you have to love your friends…you do. If you haven’t told your friends you love them today…do so now…

…OR JUST PERISH.

PANAMA SAYS JUST PERISH.

Oh yeah as a Bonus…

11. Car games are fun especially putting your friends phone numbers on pieces of paper for folks on I-5 to see and call. Big ups to Shakedown “Superhead” from Shaketown. Hit her up at 770-908-7383!!!

NOW WHO HAS THE LAST LAUGH!!!!

And so went San Diego, one of the nicest cities in America, and one of the best vacations I’ve had. Not as much drunken debauchery as prior trips, but there was much drunkeness had by all. So much so that EVERYBODY took a day off of drinking for fear of essentially, screwing ourselves over.

So to my folks who ventured to San Diego, I love y’all.

Keep bangin’….

[***The following paragraph is complete and utter non-sense and is factually based on air. Thank you.***]

As of right now, I’m actually being physically restrained and forced to perform the duties that I am paid for every two weeks. Only thru an act of mercy (read bathroom break) was I able to break away and post this quick message to let everybody know that…

WE THE VOICES has been updated. Come and find out how much 50 Cent and George Bush have in common. Yes…that reads exactly like you read it, which is the way it is, not just the way it was…in fact if you get down with the get down, when you gonna get up???? Or do you just go up on the down stroke?

How do you know where I’m at, when you haven’t been where I’ve been, understand where I’m coming from??

Probably not.

But come check out We The Voices as we offer an open letter to Fantasia, discuss hiphop, 30 being the new 21 (as far as age goes) and for an interview with DJ Smurf creator of the Ying Yang Twins newest hit, “Wait.” You all KNOW you love that song…

And because I love you all and think you need some good new music in your life, check out the website of one of DC’s newest artists, Wayna. Trust me, you aren’t ready. Her voice is amazing and you can check out her songs on the site. You will want this CD when you hear it. I’m going to do a review eventually.

Check her out…Moments of Clarity, Book 1.

Back to work before they do me like Kunte Kinte and chop off my typing fingers. Then I’ll have to show them how my gloom hand is way strong!!!!

Panama says just perish!!

Just PERISH!!!

You know sometimes, I just don’t get artists, more specifically R&B artists. They spend so much time creating their songs and they ultimately end up with shit. Like not even almost shit…its pure unadulterated shit. I used to think that it was difficult to make a bad R&B song because for some reason I believed that it was all based on understanding what sounded good. I figured that was one area where rap and R&B differed. Rappers just pick shitty beats because they don’t know better but I figured R&B artists were more musically inclined and were intent on making good music.

Boy was I wrong.

Now you might be asking yourself where I’m going with this. Well nowhere, because what is really killing me right now is that America’s favorite pervert and potential child rapist is at it again.

No, not Michael Jackson…the other one. None other than, yep, you guessed it:

R. Kelly.

See, though I think he’s one the most ignant bastards on the planet, I still recognize that musically he’s a genius. Fact remains, the reason people keep supporting him despite himself is that he makes good music. But now he’s taking us for granted…and frankly, I’m pissed.

You see, I let “Sex In The Kitchen” slide. I thought it was a joke song when I first heard it but over time (more like after I heard it all the way through) I loved it. Is it stupid as shit?? Well, yes…it is. However you have to admit you really do want to see that video. I know I do. Mostly because I want to see if the part where he says “Girl I just want to toss your salad” will consist of R and his lady of the moment out of view of the camera but you see salad all of a sudden being thrown across the kitchen along with some buttered rolls. In fact, I wonder if the video would be set in some random ass kitchen with fruits, vegetables, and potatoes, being thrown all over the place while R and his lady get their grizzly on.

That would make for great cinema. And really, its kind of ingenious…right?? I mean people DO procreate in the kitchen and nobody has really touched on that…right??? So it ain’t SUCH a bad idea…right???

Who am I kidding? It’s a horrible song that has become a guilty pleasure but mostly because R. Kelly just seems like a dirty man nowadays. I wouldn’t trust him around my dog let alone my daughter. The way he looks into the camera makes me uneasy. It’s like he’s silently saying, your daughters aren’t safe. Soon as she’s 3…SHE’S MINE! Nasty bastard…and I think he means it too. That’s why he wears that damn mask, or wore it anyway. And since I have time…why didn’t his publicist pull him to the side and say, “R…really duke, that’s not a good look right now, ya know with the whole…CHILD PORNOGRAPHY AND RAPE THING YOU GOT GOING.” Shit, is he or she part of a Union and can’t get fired or something?? There really needs to be some kind of quality control procedure for this. There is no reason for R. Kelly to be able to walk out of the house with a mask on and then call himself the Pied Piper and then for ANYBODY on his staff to remain employed. Would you keep your people on board if you just got busted for a DUI and then were approached by BudLight to do a commercial and everybody said…yeah man…do it. Oooooooooooooooooh that’s a good look baby!!! I’d pull the feeding tube on them bitches…

But I digress.

Back to the point because see now, I think R. Kelly is just mocking and laughing at us. See, NOW the fucker has made the song “Trapped in the Closet.” Actually it’s a 5 part song. And if you guessed the song is about R. Kelly being trapped in a closet then pat yourself on the back and have a drink on yourself later on tonight. This song is about R. Kelly doing what he does best, sleeping with somebody he’s not supposed to be sleeping with (married women, children, etc.) and having to hide in the closet when the chick’s husband shows up. No word if any “golden showers” occur or not…but maybe that’s in another chapter. I’m not sure. Well he gets found in the closet in this song because his cell phone rings. Now this makes me wonder…if he gets caught in this song, but it’s a 5 part song, are the rest about different closets he’s been trapped in?? If so, can we get some more descriptions of the houses, R?? I mean give me something different to work with ya know.

Now see, this is where I’m starting to get a tad annoyed. To me, all of these songs sound like spoof songs. Admit it, when you first heard “Sex In The Kitchen” you didn’t think it was a real song. I thought the radio station was making fun of him. Then we get “Trapped In the Closet,” another song that clearly sounds like a spoof song. These songs could be Chappelle’s show skits as they are. It’s like he’s trying to beat the comedians to the punch.

“They are going to make fun of me anyway, so I‚Äôll make an album full of material for them, that way they aren‚Äôt laughing at me, they‚Äôre laughing with me.” -The R

If this was ANYBODY else, I’d think this was a tad genius. But it’s R. Kelly. Which to me means he thinks these joints are a good idea. Which means the perv has become a fuckin’ nutcase.

And think about this shit‚Ķthe first two songs we have are ‚ÄúSex‚ĶIn the Kitchen‚Äù and ‚ÄúTrapped‚Ķin the Closet.‚Äù Is he preparing an album called House of R or some shit?? Ponder this as well‚Ķthat fuckin‚Äô closet song is a 5 parter. The first part is 3 minutes and 30 seconds‚Ķwhich means he‚Äôs making full length songs of this. What does this mean in the grand scheme of things?? It means that we‚Äôre (yes I‚Äôm going to buy it‚Ķgo fuck yourself) going to get an album full of parody-ish ass songs courtesy of the R that make me wonder if he‚Äôs really just laughing at us consumers and saying to himself, “these fuckers will buy anything that I put out‚Ķthey love me.”

Hmm…maybe that’s why he’s doing this. Maybe he wants to feel loved and is putting out stupid music to see if folks will still support him, which in his mind means we still accept him. Could be…though I’d actually prefer to just slap the shit out of him and then shake him say, bitch get your mind right.

CUZ I’M A SOLDIER!!!

*yes I know that was ill placed…kiss my ass*

Either way, I’m really starting to get pissed, no pun intended. First he comes out with that bullshit ass joke of a song, “Heaven I Need a Hug” AFTER HE GETS BUSTED, then he creates a gospel album of sorts…BUT NOW…THIS SHIT. He’s really toying with us. He’s taken our non-interest in whether or not he’s a rapist for granted.

[***Sidenote: If you got busted for, let’s say, hypothetically speaking, rape and pornography, would you keep making songs that make you sound like a sex crazed maniac?? I wouldn’t…but maybe that’s just me. Call me crazy, but I think that the smart thing to do would be to, say I don’t know…distance yourself from oversexed ass music. Just a thought. I might be taking a shot in the dark with that one…but hey, after I got busted for kicking the shit out of that squirrel into traffic so he could get hit by an 18-wheeler, you didn’t see me writing about kicking squirrels did you?? I wrote about ARGUING with squirrels. MUCH better!! I know I know…I’m a radical.***]

R. Kelly, I hate you, but now I really detest you. It’s one thing to make stupid ass songs like “She Reminds Me” and say “can I get a beep-beep” in songs…but now you are mocking my one true love…

…mah music!!

And for that I hope you get stabbed by a CutCo knife in the ass when you attempt to have sex in the kitchen.

Bastard.