Babies.

Babies babies everywhere, up to my elbows, up to my hair.

One of the greatest gifts God has bestowed upon humankind is the ability to reproduce. True indeed, there really should be some kind of screening process before two people are allowed to actually procreate…but then again, if that was the case how on Earth would we get some of the asstastic messes of families that we have today. The Whitney-Bobby Brown’s come to mind as do the Jackson’s and the Williamses’. Basically, we need the variety and mess that is some families in order to make the rest of our lives interesting.

Hell, if there was a screening process, there’d be no vh1 Behind The Music specials, and you know how entertaining those are.

Oh, how I digress.

So it seems like many people around me are either getting married or having kids. Funny how it seems that nobody is doing both, it’s pretty much either/or. Long live different value systems!

[***Sidenote: You know how a lot of older generation individuals think that us youth are going to Hell in a handbasket, what with all the out of wedlock births and teenage mothers? Well, I think that if we did some kind of scientific study comparing, say, the 1950's with the current era, we might not find much of a difference in both sheer number or proportion. Do you want to know what the only differnece between then and now was? It's that there is now a soundtrack to absentee daddies and teenage mothers: rap music. Hell, we have songs about being a "babby daddy" and "baby momma" and a lot of the ignorance that used to be contained in the home now has an outlet via Ignant Niggas International (insert random ignant nigga record label here) Records. Yep, the revolution might not be televised, but it sure as hell with have a soundtrack, Jack! ***]

I’m very happy for all of my friends with new children or spouses. I’m just not ready in the slightest to be there. In fact, I’m very okay with the fact that I have no real desire to be married right now. And kids? Umm…no. In fact, let’s talk about this.

I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf of sorts. I’ve discovered the most effective sex-deterrent in history: my nieces and nephews. And no, I don’t mean safe sex-deterrent. I mean altogether sex-deterrent. As in, not gonna happen. As in, stay away from me you baby-harboring Kangaroo! I love my nieces and nephews. They’re the most adorable fluorescent children you’ve ever seen.

Until I have to babysit them and watch them and break up fights and try not to kill them.

So my new leaf is one of total abstinence. To tell the truth, that’s pretty easy being as I’m not much of a manwhore anyway. But there’s something one must realize about my newfound leafage. It has jack shit to do with trying to get closer to my spiritual self or finding myself or any of that other malarkey that so many people come up with as to why they want to rediscover their inner virgin. Nope, for me…it’s pure and total fear.

I, Panama Jackson, am afraid of being a daddy right now because little kids never stop moving/talking/yelling/screaming/running/etc. I would lose my mind with a child at this juncture. And my nieces and nephews are great kids, so I can’t even imagine what I’d do with horrible devil spawns.

This also brings up another situation. See, deciding to abstain for fear of procreating period, not even with some woman I could marry, is bound to cause problems. When you reach a certain age, many women have “needs”, if you know what I mean. Heh heh.

*wink wink* *nudge nudge*

I can just see that conversation now. Hell, I kind of HAD that conversation a long time ago with a woman who was soon to become my girlfriend. At that point I was giong through something very similar. Needless to say, she was understanding but wasn’t really having that.

But have you any idea how I feel right now? At 1118pm Central Standard Time?

I feel like this:

If I’m dating some woman and she decides that she is going to get her some (from me) and isn’t taking me serious…I will just have to break up with her.

Mmhmm.

Shoot. She obviously doesn’t care about me. It’s like a woman trying to get you to have sex raw dog. I might have to jack slap her for that shit. If you think that’s okay, you quite clearly do not care about me or my well-being. And for that you are a selfish asshole who should be shot. But since I live in DC where owning a handgun is both illegal and frowned up (!) I’ll just either kick you the fuck out of my place or leave your spot.

I mean, is it such a crime if His Royal Sexxiness would prefer to just stand on opposite sides of the room and throw little popcorn kernels at one another for fear of potentially bringing a little Panamista or Panamanuel into this world? I think not.

Hell, that sounds like a good date to me!

(Dude, I’m so joking.)

But really, is it a crime if I want to wait? If a woman brought that to me I’d be respectful of it and wouldn’t even question it…UNLESS…she has told me that she’s trying to wait until marriage knowing full gotdamn well that she’s had her back broke more times than the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Because then, I’m just insulted.

At least come to me with a good reason…and that whole, “doing everything but doing nothing shit”? That’s for Toucan Sam and the NBC Peacock.

Luckily, that won’t be a problem for me anymore. My siblings’ offspring have opened up my eyes to the Hell that can be parenting. For now anyway, because I would like to have children, and as I’ve stated before, I have to have a daughter so I can raise my Queen to be the artful Goddess of her skin tone.

Hmm, I hope my wife doesn’t end up hating me…or my daughter.

Yet, I digress once more.

Babies are great, but I don’t think I could handle it right now. And though I’ve been dealing with 3 at a time, even one might require a wee bit more footspeed and reaction time than I have right now. Single with singles? That’s how I get down right now.

Off to the strip club where the women provide all the fantasy and never touch you (in most states unless you go to high priced rooms and that just isn’t my style…)

To strippers!

Cheers.

Women with my well-being in mind.

I don’t have any children right now, nor am I exactly looking to bring any litte Panamas or Panamaishas into the world in the near future. But Godwilling, I do want kids.

In fact, I want a few kids. I grew up in a household with 3 sisters, an add-on brother, and a bunch of other folks who might as well have been family. I can’t imagine having just one child. I had way too much fun growing up with my siblings to have an only child who has to create all of his own entertainment. Though, I’m sure he could, Lord knows I did.

True Story: When I was 3, my mother bought me a Playskool My First Hiking Trip Set (or something along those lines). It came with a canteen, a compass, and a utility belt. My mother filled up my canteen with water. Showed me what the compass was and opened the door. Now my usual thing was to just walk outside and play in the grass in front our apartment. Not that day. See, my mother messed up, she ALSO told me what hiking was. So what did Peewee Panama do? He went hiking. There were some woods behind our apartment complex so I moseyed on into the woods to go, ya know, hiking. Apparently I was gone for something like 3 hours causing my father, the police, and the military installation behind our home to be called. Me? I was just out walking around in the woods and drinking the water in my canteen and ya know, hiking. According to my mother, I just strolled up out of the woods right into the house, said, “hi mommy,” then sat down and watched cartoons.

Moral of the story: Parenting can be a bitch.

Anyway, as thoughts of parenthood become more frequent as I get older, I’ve started to have one lingering concern. It is a concern unlike any other concern. I’m not worried about having gay children or anything. In today’s day and age, the more kids you have it seems the more likely that is to be the case with at least one of them. Plus, I’m okay with that.

I’m not worried about raising a black male child. I was a black male child and I came out alright and I know the conversations I’m going to need to have. Plus, I refuse to sugarcoat shit.

Nope, my concern is this: I don’t really want to be cooler than my kids.

You see, I fashion myself to be a pretty cool dude. Feel free to disagree, but also feel free to go fuck yourself.

Mmkay?

I also know that cool isn’t something you create, it’s just something you are. I assume you’re born with it. Like green eyes, only not like that at all.

When you meet people who are cool, it instantly becomes the first adjective you use when describing them. Which is interesting because cool is one of the hardest things to describe in and of itself. What does cool even mean? For real, the next time you are talking to somebody and they tell you how cool their friend is, ask them what makes them cool.

I’d be willing to put money that at some point they end up saying this: “I don’t know, she/he’s just…cool.”

Being as this will be my child, I will assume that he will be going through many phases on his way to discovering his cool. If my child is anything like me, he’ll go through his nerd phase, his awkward phase, etc. The normal things that black children that can read go through.

Yes bitches, my child will be one of the reading black people. But on his way into adolescence I hope he discovers his cool. His ability to just be himself regardless of what else is going on around him. Of course, if that cool involves him wearing all black and lots of metal studs and shit, well…we’re gonna have a talk.

Until I realize that it’s probably my fault for playing so much Led Zeppelin around the house.

Back to the cool. You know, growing up can be very hard. We spend so much time trying to figure out where we fit in with our friends and just the world period that it can take a while to figure out who you really are. With that in mind, I’m looking forward to seeing my children go through all of the phases. But what happens if, and when, my child discovers his inner self and its…

..Urkel.

And all of his friends have pocket protectors and their conversations linger on the newest mechanical pencil and its aerodynamic capabilities.

I mean, I’ll love him just the same. But you better believe I’ll be throwing a football at him all the time. And if he can’t catch, that’s just too bad for him. He’ll figure it out over time. He can cry to his momma all he wants. But…and it’s a simple but…

…what if that’s just how he’s comfortable. Mind you, I’ll be accepting, but I’ll want him to branch out. I suppose I’m more worried about my kids being complete introverts than I am being overly cool. Despite saying that I’m a cool cat and shit, I tend to think I’m more funny than cool. I don’t know how many people would use cool as the first adjective to describe me.

Of course, sexxy would be first.

*ba-dum-ching*

I’m just concerned with the social malaise that could occur if my kid turns into the uber-uncool versoin of Urkel. Because despite what you think, I really do think Urkel was a pretty cool dude. He did his thing, was open and honest and all that. He was alright with me.

Granted, I don’t have any kids yet so this is all moot. And I will love my kids regardless and truthfully, it might be kind of fun to have a really nerdly kid with the taped up glasses. Not sure how that would happen given that any woman I procreate with is gonna be cool as a fan too, but it could happen. Plus, kids like that just have to increase the entertainment value in the house right??

And besides, we all remember Steve Urkel had Stephon in him. So maybe all I have to do is harness the inner cool.

And try not to make my son a ho.

To be a parent…

I just got back from Huntsville, Alabama.

And I’ve noticed that lately, every time I go there, I’m acutally glad to be there.

Well aside from the fact that I went out to the club on Saturday night and if that was the normal club scene I’d have to kill myself if I lived there.

Either that or become a Buddhist.

I also realized that it’s entirely possible to walk out the house with some turqoise boxer briefs and a tie wrapped around your head with some Birkenstocks on and be completely over dressed for the club. I’m not saying that was me, but I really could have got into this club with a “dress code” dressed like Jesus.

With the halo.

Of course, at least I’m down South so the women look good, but nothing quite annoys me more than niggas trying to hit on two of my sisters with me sitting there telling me they don’t want no trouble cuz they’re on “papers.”

When they’re like 6′5″ and 280 pounds.

Which I am not. Just feels patronizing, ya know? I mean I have feelings. Almost felt like a challenge.

Hmm, to take it even further. I never have to drink to have a good time. For the first time, I had to drink to have a good time. A lot. Fortunately for me, my sisters are a riot.

Slight caveat, when I say sisters up there, I’m speaking of one actual sister of mine and one adopted sister, sort of. But the weird thing is, if it wasn’t for the law, neither would be related to me at all. Seriously, they could do a study on my family and it would take years to break down how I happen to have a brother and 6 sisters and only one of them is blood.

But we’re family like the Jacksons.

Either way, I have come to appreciate being in Huntsville. I’ve realized that I love open space a whole lot. And greenspace. I like peace and quiet at night and the ability to drive out of the city into just open roads and quiet and crickets and dark roads and stuff. Backroads and the like. I’ve always wanted to buy a house in the city and a house out in the sticks where not too many people could find me.

I like the country a lot as well. I like walking around barefoot without worrying about catching HIV from the sidewalk.

Though I’ll never live in Huntsville for long periods of time, I might buy me a house or something there. Kind of my getaway for when I move back to Atlanta.

Oh, and by the way, there is like zero depth whatever to anything I’m writing today. I’m just sharing because sharing is caring.

But the real reason I wanted to write this post is because I need to do a formal congratulations to one of my boys, The Great. I think I will now have to change his name from The Great, to The Doc. My boy, at age 27, has received his Ph.D. in Biology and Biomedical Engineering from the Georgia Institute of Technology.

That’s Georgia Tech for those that just don’t know.

I’m so proud of that dude I don’t even know what to do with myself. Luckily we’ll be in Miami this weekend at a friends wedding so we can kick of the festivities something proper. Then again in August in the A.

To my boy, who occasionally reads here, congratulations. You know, I need to say this here, and forgive me if it sounds a little gloatish, but I’m really proud of my group of friends. I don’t know if it’s just luck or what have you, but I got a group of friends from Morehouse that all managed to graduate in 4 years, together, which at Morehouse is an accomplishment worthy of an award.

All of us have managed to get some type of advanced degree in some random field. We’ve got lawyers, educators, economists, policy analysts, scientists.

And we all can get as ignant as the next man.

And I appreciate that.

I think I shall change our motto to, “we do big shit.”

Anyway, to my boy, The Artists Now Known as The Doc and formerly known as The Great, the first Ph.D. in the group, good damn job homeboy.

Good damn job.

[***This will be another Panama-length post. Stop working and take a 30 minute break. ***]

So India.Arie is not her hair.

She’s also not that great a singer or a talent, but let’s not let my personal biases against mediocre, over-hyped music get in the way of objective analysis.

See also: Alicia Keys.

India.Arie has a new song getting rotation on vh1 Soul entitled “I’m Not My Hair”. Though I more often than not change channels when I see it and have yet to really listen to the lyrics, I’m pretty sure I have a good idea where she’s going with it.

[***Sidenote: Have you noticed how much time India.Arie puts into telling us what she's not? She's not the average chick in the video (no shit Sherlock), she's not her hair, she's not caught up into the materialism of it all ("Little Things" which I hated with the passion of Mel Gibson. Construction through deconstruction, eh? I still don't think her music is that great or moving. In fact, I just created this sidenote so I could reinforce the fact that neither India or Alicia Keys is particularly overwhelmingly talented, they're just "positive" so the accolades come. Sad sad times we live in. And oh yes, kiss my ass if you think I'm just hating. ***]

It’s an ever-present reminder to not judge books by their cover. Many women with myriad hairdoes across the nation, especially of the darker persuasion, wish to not be judged by their hair or boxed into whatever stereotype their hair represents. Oh how cruel society can be for looking at a part of your chosen appearance and making some sort of (un)informed opinion about you.

Let me just cut the shit here, you can see through my obvious sarcasm that I like to call bullshit on this notion. But I’m not calling bullshit on the notion in its entirety, but just from the ONLY group of women who run this brouhaha into the ground: the alleged/assumed/stereotped “deep” crowd of women with the natural hair or locs that refuses to succumb to society’s (read white folks) requirement to have relaxed hair that conforms to the white aesthetic.

Women’s liberation lives on.

It is my understanding that relaxed hair is easier to manage. I could be wrong on that, but I’ve been told that from nearly all the women in my life with relaxed hair. If that is the case, then growing ones hair out in its natural African splendor or locking one’s hair is not only a societal rebellion but a conscious decision to retain God’s given goods. It is in fact…

…a statement of sorts.

And I’m all for statements. If you have something to say, then by all means say it. The more controversial the better. Now the funny shit here is that most of the controversy involved here comes from the stereotype that in some ways, women with the “hair” (as it will be called from here on out) run themselves right into, but don’t want to be a party to in the first place.

Common sense be damned.

And that’s where I get to calling bullshit. You see, not a SINGLE woman I know with the “hair” isn’t or hasn’t been on some sort of “enlightened” kick at some point in their lives. Lovers of all things natural from natural soaps and organic shit and lovers of the beauty of the outside and the grass and how we are all connected to the Earth and must take advantage of all that. And I’m not judging at all, I actually think thats great. More people should probably be into the natural order of things and want to preserve and enjoy the world’s resources and the like. And I’m all for enlightenment.

Further, it seems that when most black women go through some sort of major life change, often times, their hair becomes the subject of debate; whether or not to cut it, to lock it, to just let it grow into its natural state. In many ways, a woman’s hair does represent a lot about her. Not to say that it is the only facet of her, but it is a major part. The thing is, the only group that runs around wishing to not be judged by their hair is the women with the “hair”. And its because the rest of us aren’t nuts and have been exposed to so many women with the “hair” that some sort of opinion can be created.

Women with relaxers don’t run into this problem and it could very well be a societal, white-induced thing. If you see a woman with a perm, well, that just seems normal. Permed hair doesn’t really stand out. If you see a woman with the helicopter hair do, well, her ass is just ghetto. You are what you eat and you reap what you sow. But for those of us who can read, which would be everybody reading this right now, when you see a woman with big hair or locs (the “hair) we do tend to assume certain things about them.

That they rock earthtones and headwraps, read Sonia Sanchez, like ankh’s, wear jewelry with amber and are all about some sort of enlightenment or something. All of those things can, sometimes for right sometimes for wrong, be assumed from seeing a woman out with the “hair”. And yes it is wrong to make such assumptions…but umm…

…how often are you wrong?

When was the last time you met a woman with the “hair” that had the best of Ying Yang Twins bumping in their ride? They get lumped into the “concious” crowd by men and women alike because for the most part, they don’t exactly do anything to counter that title. You go to their homes they have books about women’s liberation, feminism, and spirituality, amidst the music of the the “deep” crowd who has an appreciation for “quality” music. The homes are filled with incense and the like.

Yes, I’m stereotyping, but how how often am I completely offbase? I’m not saying all women with the “hair” are like that, but I’m guessing that I’m not as wrong as India.Arie might have me believe. And I think that’s where the problem with the “hair” comes in and why so many of women rocking the “hair” always clamor at that statement.

They don’t want to be boxed in or labeled into something that makes being ignant or ghetto contrary to the image that is being portrayed. Granted, I come down hard on many of “deep” brothers and sisters, but its usually at the inauthenticity of some of it. I just think its funny that people go so far out of their way to put out an image that is reflective of a certain persona. Mostly because there isn’t much variance. It’s an all or nothing thing. I’m deep, so I must wear all things deep or do all things deep people do. I suppose its largely a phase thing that many people grow out of, but oh well, it’s still funny.

Being characterized by your hair means that when you get to shakin’ that ass to Nelly or the Ying Yang Twins, people might look at you funny. And that’s not fair. Just because she loves Che Guevara and Assata Shakur doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the music of Ying Yang while shunning the lyrics. It’s party music right? And she likes to party. Why come she can’t get her “Salt Shaker” on in peace without folks being like, “dang girl, i didn’t think you’d get down like that?”

You know what’s really funny about this, it’s that women with the “hair” often get stereotyped up. As in, we tend to expect something from them for whatever reason. You expect to go into their homes and be transported into a sea of understanding and knowledge. Sad to say, if you go into the home of a chick with a perm, and you see the home of a “deep” chick, you’re often surprised in some sort. I know I am. It may be wrong, but fuck you.

Not to say that I don’t expect permed out chicas to read, but when you get the Mother Africa treatment, it just kind of takes you aback, then you realize you can’t judge a book by its cover. She may be the flyest chick on the planet, but there’s more to her than meets the eye. And that is why this whole phenomena is so funny to me. Women with the “hair” want to be regarded as normal people…hell, they just want to get the freedom to be a multi-faceted fuck-up with ignorant tastes like everybody else, whereas other women get the “wow, you READ???” face when you enter their homes.

And, to reiterate, I understand that your hair alone does not make you who you are, but it does say something about you, when you decide to (this is going to be the dumbest shit I’ve ever said…so bear with me), shun the status quo and wear your hair the way God intended.

Yes I felt dumber for saying that.

And see that’s the problem: you are your hair. It makes a statement about you. It’s just not the whole you, and I understand wanting to be recognized as a whole person and not boxed in to some perception that YOU are giving off. But its funny the labels we reject, isn’t it? Nobody wants to reject being labeled smart, well read, or thinking, yet often times those are the very assumptions we make from checking out a woman’s hair and her persona (which often fits the stereotype we adorn due to their hair). Women with the “hair” want the opportunity to be just as ignant as the rest of us with out raising an eyebrow. Thing is, its not even usually the “hair” alone that does it. It’s the whole package, from afar.

Apparently the biggest problem that comes with the “hair” is the assumptions that go along with it. The women who have to scream that they aren’t their hair just don’t want folks to assume anything about them, be it true or not. But when you make certain statements, assumptions arise. Your hair is your statement when you chose to go the “hair” route.

But to counter that, I suggest wearing a Ying Yang Twins shirt. That will throw people off and make sure that nobody judges you by your cover.

Then drop it likes its hot…

…on the bus…

Stereotype. Dissolved.

…when I’m busting my ass at work like I’m a real employee.

Somebody must have told them wrong. Actually, somebody must have told me wrong since I’m up here working my ass off.

Anyway, a thought occured to me while watching television a few nights ago.

Before I get to that, have you been watching Grey’s Anatomy? I’m not usually into medical shows or anything but my little sister got me hooked around Christmas and I’ve been a fanatic ever since. Man, that’s a good show. Last night was the 2 hour season finale and it was great, but man, the prelude to the 2 hour season finale on Sunday? Geez Louise. That had me on the edge of my seat. I don’t know all the characters real names, but the chick that plays Izzie (sp?) seriously kicked up her Hollywood potential with her rendition of a schizophrenic, nucking-futs, over the top, love-struck, dumb-struck, dire-straits, reverse Florence Nightingale syndromed potential woman scorned.

Man, somebody needs to get her some more acting roles, STAT. If you haven’t seen it, somebody has that joint Tivo’d or DVR’d or for the archaics amongst us, VCR’d. That was good television.

Now back to my question. I was watching Bill Maher’s show on HBO on Sunday and I noticed that he had Cornel West, some politician-looking white guy (I can’t remember for the life of me who it was) and John Legend.

Yes, John Legend.

I watched part of the show and it got me to thinking…why in the hell do some of these entertainers agree to go on the show? For one, unless you are SERIOUSLY up on shit, you aren’t going to be able to get in any good arguments or anything worth debating edgewise. Regardless of your opinion of him, Bill Maher is sharp, and often times, so are his guests.

But sometimes, some of the entertainers he brings on don’t have jack shit to contribute. Such was the case with John Legend. This is not to say that these entertainers aren’t capable of gunnin’ with the politicians, political wonks, and policy analysts, but a lot of times, they just…

…can’t.

I remember Chris Rock was on there once and you could tell he was completely outgunned. As in didn’t have a single thing to offer. And I’m a huge fan of his, but the problem is that Bill Maher and his guests, more often than not, dig into the weeds on stuff and discuss shit that unless you read the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, and any and all things coming out of Washington, you will have nothing to contribute and will just be sitting there nodding your head trying to keep up. I’ve seen it time and time again with entertainers. In fact, one of the few to go on the show that could not only keep up with the big dogs but put the big dogs on edge was, Ben Affleck.

I know, let that marinate. He isn’t the best actor, but he knows his politics. I have to give credit where credit is due.

So I just wonder, if you’re an entertainer that actually watches the show and you get asked to come on, and you arent so big into politics and the like, why in Sam Hill would you put yourself in a position to look like a deer caught in headlights? And I know a lot of these entertainers are smart, trust me I do. But it’s one thing to be smart, it’s a total different animal to attempt to get into a heated intellectual discourse with the most cynical, yet sharp man on TV this side of Jon Stewart. And most entertainers just aren’t that political. Puffy included. They are entertainers. We pay them to make us feel better about ourselves, not make us smarter.

Nobody wanted to hear Chris Rock say, “I”m just pissed that gas cost so much” the (at least) 10 times he said it.

Just a thought…but why walk into a gunfight with a slingshot and some split pea soup?

PlayStation: Heather Headley’s song “In My Mind” is the worst written great song of the past 10 years.

PS 2: Bill Cosby is at it again. At Spelman College (my favorite place) he told the women they need to take over since most black men are in jail. You have to love it when he shoots from the hip. Good times.

PS 3 (Coming Soon): This was way longer than it should have been. The sad part is that it took me like 8 minutes to come up with and type all of that. I really am longwinded. I’m also…well, you know the rest.

“In all of my experiences of living, most black women dating white men tend to be more on the darker side of the shade tree. I don’t know if lighter women are just on a quest for more color in their children’s lives or what, but you just don’t see that very often. I have a theory on this…” -an excerpt from a post entitled Tired Black Man: Negro Please! courtesy of His Royal Sexxiness and Purveyor of All Things Symbiotically Good aka Panama Jackson

In the comments section of that post, Brick said that she’d like to hear this theory. As the man who makes it a job to give the people what they want, I shall lay out my theory on this.

I’m nice like that. And sexxy enough to do it.

As an aside, me and some of my boys actually have rules on that type of thing, though we break them quite often. One of our rules has been to “always give the people what they want” though it usually involves proliferation of the feminine spirit. Of course, it is only the case when you can do so, i.e. you’re not in a relationship of any sorts or when you won’t step on your God’s toes in the process. And you think Bill Maher started that New Rule shit? We’ve been coming up with new rules since 1997.

Center of Excellence, bitches. Center of Excellence.

Now to the theory.

If you pay attention to most of the interracial black woman-white man couples you see, you’ll probably notice a few things about them. For one, the white man doesn’t usually look like the kind of white dude who would be seriously dating a black woman, Paul Walls of the world excepted. He usually looks more like, Kevin James. Your garden variety regular white dude. This has always baffled me because like any other true blue American, I succumb to racial stereotypes just like the next person, and that combo just rarely makes sense to me.

Two, you will usually notice that its usually the more dark sisters who are dating the white dudes. And by darker, I mean the less light light skinneded. Basically, if you’re actual degree of darktivity is debatable, but the term light-skinned is ALWAYS the first option, then I’m not talking about you.

You know, I really should start chronicling these random terms I create and compile them into some sort of Panamictionary. That idea has actually been suggested to me for a few years now. I’m just lazy.

On the surface, it seems like it might be some sort of complex subconscious psychological thing that causes light skinned women to not date white men while their darker sisters partake of the other other white meat.

You know, as I am typing, I just queried The After Party Hostess because I didn’t know what the first white meat was. I mean I knew that pork was the other white meat, but I wasn’t sure what the original white meat was. She informed me that it was chicken. I have just disappointed the black community in ways no other man has done in years. It hasn’t been this bad since the Great Watermelon Fiasco of 1994.

*hangs head in shame*

I contend that the reasons for these dating trends are quite simple. As black people, we are the only race (to a lesser extent Indians from India and Arabs) that can actually do pre-screened color matching. Yes, the stereotype about black people is true; we care so much about aesthetics that we will usually try to match ourselves with appropriately colored counterparts as a means of taking more balanced pictures and creating more creatively colored children.

Go on ahead and marinate on that for a minute.

*humming “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash*

I never said the shit was deep.

Think about this (dammit, you know that whenever somebody tells you to think about something, they think they are bringing some depth), most black people are usually totally miffed when white people think we all look alike since our colors vary (thanks to the institution of slavery and black woman rape) so much that you can literally have a good thousand shades of “black”. White people and Asians on the other hand, well, excuse my ignorance here, actually fuck you if you’re offended, look WAY more alike on any given day than two black people who don’t have the same parents. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all cousins.

Now that’s just part of it. There are other pieces at play here of darker and vile conception. Or not.

It has been my observation as well that most light-skinned women would rather date a darker skinned man. Now this could have psychological ramifications. Potentially the fuckedupedness that we in the black community have passed down amongst ourselves over hundreds of years continues to rear its ugly head here. As a means of staying “black” and having “black children” light skinned people tend to look for the blacker the berry counterparts. Men and women do this.

Panama Pon-de-river Fession (similar to a confession but coming from Panama): I have a thing for darker sisters. I always have. My last few girlfriends have been of the lighter variety and that has always presented a dilemma for me. You see, I’m mixed. Feel free to *gasp* now if you weren’t aware. This means I’m kind of on the light side. I have nieces and nephews and all of those little kids are light. What I’m getting at here is that, I want my kids to have some color. Or I would like to at least give my kids a shot at some color. Chances are that might not happen, but still. On the other end, I really just love darker skinned women. I’m gonna sound like a racist here but fuck you, I just love dark skin tones and how flawless it looks a lot of time. A nice chocolate woman will get my attention a good 10 out of 10 times. Assuming of course that she doesn’t look like Grace Jones or India.Arie.

Now, I’m not suggesting that light skinned women are somehow “apologizing” for their skin tone by seeking out darker men, I’m just saying that coupled with the aesthetic nature of black people, maybe its just one of those things that is bound to happen. And you have to admit, family pictures always look good with people of two different complexions. You may disagree, but you will be wrong.

All that to say, light skinned women and white men don’t actually make for good pictures. And I think we are all aware of this. Plus, given the fact that a higher percentage of light skinned black women tend to be of the militant variety (including mixed black women), it’s just hard to date a white man when your idol is Malcolm X.

Of course, there is a caveat there too. A lot of lighter women are indeed mixed. And they may have grown up in a house where naivete was the meal du jour where the kids are told to believe that color is not an issue in America in which case that light skinned woman might date white men…until reality hits her like a MAC truck one day, and then she totally flips the script back to the better picture-fitting darker skinned man.

Now to the dark skinned women.

Are you still reading? Because this shit is getting long.

I think that darker women dating white men is a function of the white man being wholly attracted to black women in general, as well as his white women counterparts, and the black woman just being openminded and probably also tired of trifling black menses.

I think that a white dude interested in black women, on a strictly physical level, would more likely than not be interested in the darker women. You can throw that whole exotic thing into the equation if you want, but I think it comes down to this (and yes it is stereotype induced): If a white man is going to date a black woman, he wants to date a black woman, not some lightskinned chick with permed straight hair that could be mistaken as a dark skinned white girl (big ups to Murs). He wants a real no questions asked black woman. Maybe she has her hair permed too, but her complexion tells him all he needs to know. No mistaking her. Plus, the pictures will look nice and colorful.

From the black woman’s end, she is not usually worried about her kids skin tone (like light skinned people) therefore she can throw caution to the wind and date somebody of another race and possibly have kids because she will still be contributing to the black community. And since, stupid as this shit is, a lot of light skinned dudes (from what I’ve been told and shit) don’t like dating darker women (since we are pretty ignant in the black community) and dark skinned men want light women (see prior ignorance) dark women will find them an appropriate white man, if she’s at all interested.

You see, some of this has complicated ends to it, but really, the foremost reason why dark skinned women date white men, and light skinned women don’t is:

Its all about the Polaroids.

End theory.

We’ve all been there. You’re out, and you see somebody who catches your eye for whatever reason. Maybe its their eyes. Or maybe it’s their hair. Or maybe they just have that “thing” that Lauryn Hill was talking about that gets folks so messed up in the game.

Whatever it is, it renders you helpless to your impulses and forces you to just go over and speak. Everything is going well. Your “hello” was well received and a contrived albeit purposeful conversation was begun.

And then…

…that muhfucka says the utmost stupidest shit you’ve ever heard in your life. And presto changeo, stock drops. You’re selling the shit faster than your Enron. Yes, in just a few short minutes, it is possible to meet somebody who goes from being the cat’s meow to Alpo.

Hell, it’s happening right now in cities across America.

And yes, it can happen to you. Therefore, I figured the best way to counter that problem is to just offer a few situations that can render you unattractive to the opposite sex in 10 minutes or less. But before we do that, there is something that must be understood.

Panamalogy: Attractiveness is very similar to your college GPA. You may be fine, but if you fuck it up by saying/doing something stupid, your stock drops quick as hell and is damn near impossible to bring back up to where you dropped from. Just like with your GPA. How well you do in your first semester will essentially set the bar for how high you can go. If you don’t get a 4.0 in the first semester, you’ll never have a 4.0. If you bomb your first semester, you will be working like Kunte in Virginia trying to pull it up, and it will likely never get as high as you’d like it. Fine only counts if you never speak to the person, because that shit becomes all relative once they open their mouths and have every ability to fuck it up. And that’s a fact, Jack.

How To Become Unattractvie in 10 Minutes or Less: Fucking Up Your Future Forensically

1. Come off like you are the pure and unadulterated shit.

You ever meet somebody and they made it seem like you were lucky to even get the opportunity to do so? Oh yeah, tumble attractiveness, tumble. I know a woman who assumes that anytime a man speaks to her, he is trying to run game. Anytime. What I find funny about it is that she’s not attractive…in the first place. Hence, she will blow off nearly any man who even offers her so much as a compliment and assume that he is merely running more game than a crackhead from Hempstead.

Word to the wise, self-esteem is really important. What’s also important is realizing that if you have an 8 body and a 5 face, you are a 6.

And 6’s don’t come home to momma.

2. Have breath that is kicking like the Pink Power Ranger

Yes, halitosis is a real thing. I’m not even sure there needs to be an explanation here. Let’s just say, if nobody wants to talk to you and you look like Halle Berry, either you have a sign on your forehad that says “SARS lives here” or you’re breath is beyond reproach.

3. Bring up the fact that you live with your momma…in the first 2 minutes.

You know, for some reason, women attach a lot to your living situation. And that shit can make you look really Bobcat in a nanosecond. For one, I don’t even know how it comes up. There is no reason to mention it really. It’s something that should come up later. But yep, I guaran-damn-tee that if as a man, you bring this up somehow, you will become the male version of Solange. Not quite busted, but when stacked up against the former Beyonce that you could have been…well, she’ll pass.

By the way, did anybody catch the Tribe Called Quest reference a few paragraphs back? Go ahead, its okay, go try to find it.

4. Be a stank ass heifer/nigga

As opposed to coming off as the unadulterated shit, this is when you begin talking and you realize that her attitudes seem to be more along the lines of golddiggin’ ass hoes. For instance, say you walk over to her, and you see she’s reading the Randall Robinson book The Debt: What America Owes To Blacks and you use that to segue into a convo with her. And she tells you that, she’s reading it but for real, black people just need to get over it and quit being ghetto and that she wouldn’t want to be in undevelopoed ass Africa chucking spears so we should be thankful we live in America (5. Be ignant/ignorant/idignant/a Ying-Yang Twin

I use the word nigga a lot. A lot lot. But you wouldn’t know that from jump. Hell, unless I know you, I rarely use it on IM without asking you if its okay first. And cursing, I won’t curse unless I know you are 100 percent okay with it.

STOP.

Did anybody else see All Of Us last night where they tried to broach the topic of the using the N-word. I mean, nigga. They get an A for effort. But I just don’t know if UPN is equipped to handle such a difficult topic. I ended up cringing more and more as I watched it. Thank God for Uncle Dirk. The comic relief broke up the uberfuckery of a job that they attempted to do, from the drummed up emotion to the touching moments at the end. It just exposed the bad acting jobs they are capable of. Like I said, A for effort.

Back to the lecture at hand. So say you approach the you are feeling and in the first 2 or 3 minutes, they use the word nigga, or curse and no, hell or damn, but they use the word fuck. You just never know how folks feel about that kind of stuff. It’s always best to ease into that over time, you don’t just come out the gate with it when trying to make some sort of impression. You’re first words shouldn’t be, “yeah, a nigga spotted yo’ fine ass from across the room. I was finna come whisper in your ear, wait til you see my dick.”

Boris Kodjoe to Barney Fife in 3 minutes flat.

Not. A. Good. Look.

6. Just be damn dumb.

I don’t know about you, but I HATE dumb broads. With the passion of Mel Gibson. I know some folks who like dumb chicks cuz they are easy but that is an ultimate turnoff. If I see a fine woman who gets so excited because she just discovered that there are pens that if you push the button, the ball point comes out…well, she’s gettin’ chucked like Taylor. She will become very unattractive quickly to me. Dumb girls cannot be fine. It is mentally impossible for me to find dumb women attractive. I would assume that would be the same for men. Of course with the dating pool so shallow nowadays, I assume some women just take what they can get.

7. The Standards

What are the standards? You know, things like outwardly picking your nose, farting, or any of the other bodily functions one should reserve for private time. I know a chick who will burp, and then tell you about it. Needless to say, not very attractive.

8. Being a clutz or a klutz, depending on which way is the correct way to spell that

You know, nothing is worse than essentially being the embodiment of this statement: Girl, he’s fine, but…

Or. Son, she’s fine but…

Anytime you have a but attached, you just aren’t ranking high enough. And just being a total clutz or klutz from jump will do it unfortunately. If you spill my drink on me I’m going to not only wonder how in the hell you made that happen seeing as it was my drink, but i’m gonna be pissed. It’s hard to see attractiveness when pissedness comes into play.

Unless you’re just that fine where it doesn’t matter. Which is possible. Trust me.

9. Wear more makeup than Homey Da Clown.

Maybe this is just a personal thing. I don’t mind makeup. But I do mind additional faces created by too much makeup. And maybe I couldn’t tell that from afar. Upon closer inspection, you can become very unattractive if I’m not sure if your face really belongs to you or not. Nothing is scarier than possibly waking up next to a Gremlin. I’m probably not most men, but I’d just pass on that shit.

10. Have the ugliest walk known to man.

This an entire other post, but an ugly walk, will totally fuck up your attractiveness. If you walk like you never quite learned how to do it, well, you’re gonna be busted. Like I said, that’s another post.

These are but a few ways to become unattractive in 10 minutes or less. Don’t let it be you.

Unless of course you’re already busted in which case, it doesn’t matter and you can proceed as normal.

We have a problem in the black community. That is not to say that we have one, singular problem, as the tv show Black.White. and just life in general has shown us that we have numerous problems in the black community. But we have one that I have been intending to discuss but have failed to discuss hence leaving it undiscussed…

…in the black community.

So, like I said, we have a problem in the black community. And the problem is…

…wait for it…

…it’s coming…

…girrrrrrrrrrrl are you ready…

…light-skinned points.

Yes. Light-skinned points. This is a problem in the black community. Wait, wait, wait. I see some people in the back row looking verklempt amongst themselves, probably wondering what I mean by light-skinned points. Let us define.

Defining.

Light-skinned point(s). noun. 1) the additional looks (see also sweats, dickriding, blonde ambition), attention, and yearnestness that fairer skinned light skinned women receive over their darker-skinneded sisters whether or not their face actually warrants any attention at all. 2) the assumed increase in attractiveness laid before melanin deficient black women…whether or not their face actually warrants any attention at all. See Tracee Ellis-Ross, the other lightskinned chick on Girlfriends, the lightskinned chick in the ghetto, etc.

Close your eyes.

Are your eyes closed?

Good.

Imagine that you are a woman right now. All brokeback points are hereby suspended. Imagine that you are an attractive dark-skinned sister walking down the street and a group of black males is sitting on a stoop to the left of you. Also imagine, a light skinned woman who isn’t very attractive by any standard is walking towards you. You and she will cross the man-inhabited stoop at the exact same moment. Now, imagine that you have good credit. Oops, sorry…wrong fantasy. Okay, imagine how shitty it must feel to know that even if you look leagues better than said light skinned woman, she will get 90% of the attention…and I’m willing to say it is MERELY because she is lightskinneded.

[***DISCLAIMER: To all of my lightskinnededed sisters out there, I'm not saying that you all are unattractive. That is not the case at all. Hell, my girlfriend is bright as hell. I know boatloads of attractive lightskinned women. I'm merely talking about the ridiculous amount of attention that unattractive (and you can keep that eyes of the beholder bullmalarkey to yourself) lightskinned women receive strictly cuz they are light. Everybody knows it happens and we all talk about it all the time. ***]

You can stop being a woman now.

I’ve always thought this was a funny phenomenon. I mean, even the most busted light women get a lot of attention. Whether you’re on the subway or just walking down the street, the light skinned women with a hairline that starts in Australia will get attention. Somehow, we love the light.

It has to be frustrating for attractive dark skinned women. And for the record, you are not attractive if the only person who has called you attractive is your mother and your reflection. At least one person you weren’t sleeping with has to say you are hot to be indeed, hot. You can put 9 dark-skinned fine women in a room with one light skinned Gremlin and I’d be willing to bet that generally speaking, most men would say that the light skinned woman was the most attractive woman in the room. And that is emblematic of the problem in the black community, we place lightskinned people up on a pedestal. Well, mostly women since everybody knows that lightskinned men went out of style back in the early 90’s. Yeah, we have our blips here and there from Shemar “I Give Keanu Reeves A Run For His Money In The Acting Department” Moore to Boris Kodjoe (is he even lightskinnedededed?), but yeah, us lightskinned black men…

…short…

…end…

…of…

…the…

…stick.

You know, spelling that out that way was a lot better in theory than it was in practice. It’s kind of dumb for me to tell you that since I could easily just correct it and you’d never even have to know. Yet…I won’t.

I suppose you could just make the easy connection that light skinned women are closer to white women, thus the black mans innate desire for white women is the culprit here. And I guess that has merit. Which would then explain the hate that a lot of light skinned women receive from other black women since black men love them some light chicks and dark chicks know that causing them to hate on their light sisters who can at times be assholes about the fact that they get a lot of love from black men. Not always, as I know some light chicks who hate the light attention as much as dark chicks do. Which is kind of interesting if you think about it. If you are a light chick who gets a lot of sweats from black men and you know that light skinned women do indeed get points, and you hate the points you get for being light skinneded so much so that you wish you didn’t get the points…how do you reconcile that? Does it stop light chicks from being proud of who they are??

It’s like intra-race reverse affirmative action. Or more simply, amongst black folks, light chicks get the attention.

This is a problem in the black community because well, our kids are getting lighter and you can’t be the black community if there ceases to be any more black people.

That’s a joke.

*rimshot*

That slavery shit really did a number on us didn’t it? Some of the self-hate that a lot of us are caught up with has translated into our love for the light. Face it, a lot of black folks hate themselves. We hate our skin cuz its black, we hate black pepper, we hate midnight, and black ball point pens. Hell, there are some black folks reading this right now who hate what I’m saying cuz the text is showing up black. Psychologically we get so caught up in light versus dark in our community, and you better believe its still an issue, that we offer solace to light-skinned women who would in NO way ever get points if life made sense.

[***DISCLAIMER #2: I'm also aware that all men don't go straight for light-skinned women. But facts and videos don't lie to us. ***]

Which brings up another point. In an ideal world, dark skinned women could be video hoes. That’s actually the saddest and funniest part of the entire debate. We always hear about all the light skinned women in videos…which just so happen to be the same videos that so many women rail against. The same videos that exploit women to the fullest are the very ones that many darker women get upset about not being able to participate in. Strange strange world we live in.

This is all just further proof of the deep seeded issues we have in the black community that are going to keep us fighting amongst ourselves for eternity. We have no dark skinned video hoes. Well only a few. But I think we need more.

I just now realized that there is no deep explanation for this. We just love lighter shit period. White air force onces. Linen. White sheets. White socks. Bleach. White-tees.

Sometimes it sucks when the simple answer is the right one.

We’ve been conditioned to love the lighter skinned people because we were taught that white was right and we have just passed it down over generations.

Bottom line…more dark skinned video hoes please. And throw rocks at light skinned chicks.

That’s a joke.

[***I hear that there's some dude out there named Panama who writes long posts. I'm sure glad I'm not him. Ole long winded self! Yes, that means this is long. ***]

Who knew one song could cause so much intra-race controversy?

It’s been a few days since the world found out that it is, indeed, hard out here for a pimp. Three 6 Mafia couldn’t have predicted that a year ago, a song they were commissioned to do for an indepedent movie would be placed on center stage during Hollywood’s biggest night. After all, they were just doing what they were asked to do; create some original songs for the pimp-turned-rapper, DJay, to perform in the movie that pertained to his pimpin’ lifestyle.

And now, “It’s Hard Out Here For A Pimp” won an accolade that many people wish to have on their resume.

And a lot of black folks are pissed. Which isn’t surprising.

And the title of this post had little to do with anything, I just like the song. It’s by Blue Oyster Cult.

Rock on!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There have been articles all over the internet, national newspapers (more specifically, the Washington Post ran two articles that I’m aware of) on both sides of the coin. Some people are happy that they won, or think that it was good for hip-hop while others are completely aghast, disappointed, pissed, and offended.

I believe that some black folks think this is akin to “Plymouth rock landing on us…again…followed by Chris Rock, Rock ‘n Roll, and Prudential.”

You know, piece of mind, it comes with every piece of the rock.

*rimshot*

Hell, I’ve heard people refer to Three 6 Mafia’s winning of the Oscar as confirmation of white America’s love for black modern day minstrel shows.

Others hate that black stereotypes are lauded.

Well, you get the picture. A lot of black people are very upset with this.

And in some ways, I can understand…but that’s only because I’m very aware that a lot of black people care a whole hell of a lot about white people’s perception of us. Somehow, it seems that our own self-perception is tied into how white America views us.

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, black folks are full of shit.

Why do we care so gotdamned much about how they see us? Really. I want to know.

Black people are so full of concern over our image (as it was pointed out to me last night, and I can’t believe I never thought about this, but we even have the NAACP Image Awards…good God) that we hate anything that can be deemed contrary to what we would like our image to be.

Mind you, I understand the need for balance. To be honest, I’d wager that there is more balance nowadays, outside of mainstream hiphop, than there ever has been before. I can’t think of a single scripted show featuring majority black people on television that doesn’t feature upwardly mobile, well-to-do black people. Black people with degrees and businesses, etc. You know, the people like a lot of us. With the image that we want.

And you know my problem with that? It’s all steeped in how we want to be viewed by larger society…you know, white people.

How in the hell can we progress if our entire self-image is rooted in how we would like to look to white people?

And I’m no better at times. I pride myself on usually not giving a flying fuck what most white people think about me. I kind of march to my own beat most of the time anyway, so even black folks are confused. But there are times when I’m just as guilty of caring about white people’s opinions as the next person. And that is stupid.

It’s impossible to improve your own situation when you’re too busy trying to make sure you look good to a group that, for the most part, doesn’t give a shit what image you put out there. How can we, as black folks, even figure out what’s best for us as a community (assuming that any of us really do give a shit about that community thing since I figure most folks care about what white folks think because of how it might negatively impact them as individuals) if our entire goal is to make sure that white people see that some of us do have degrees and jobs.

Especially when they already know that since they give some of us jobs. Begrudingly at times, but they do.

For the most part, I manage to live my life according to my own liking. And do you know why? Go ahead…take a gander…

…it’s because I’m free.

We have a long way to go in race relations. Clearly, but last I checked, I was free. I didn’t have to live my life dictated by the whims and musings of white people.

So why do so many of us do that? Why do we try to do all the things that one wouldn’t typically associate with black. Hell…why do some folks think they have to dissociate themselves period?? I’ll never understand that.

And speaking on race relations, I find it funny that we want mainstream media, and essentially white America’s perception of us to be perfect…because don’t get it twisted, we don’t want them to have a balanced view of us, we want them to think of us as equals, but in that equality lies a want to be considered as educated people who are as successful as they are at many different ventures. Anytime we can show white folks that we aren’t all poor, we make strides to do so.

But…we also want white people to still recognize racism. It’s like we want white people to look in the mirror and say, “yes you fucked over black people, but still they rise, like the tides. and despite the slip and slides, they rise…they took all that racism and made it anyway.”

Come on…how realistic is that? We want instant gratification and recognition. It’s going to take some time. Hell, we JUST started getting into white schools almost 50 years ago. And that took a landmark Supreme Court case. It isn’t like we were welcomed with open arms, an apple, and some Mentos.

The freshmaker.

Hell, do you even realize that the entire last few paragraphs were all about our dealings with white people? And how we want them to essentially welcome us to the table? Are you still reading right now anyway?

Why don’t we care more about what’s going on inside our our communities first…then worry about what the hell else white folks think? It isn’t like racism is going anywhere anytime soon anyway. Just because we THINK that they look at us differently doesn’t mean they do does it? Or is that what it’s all about anyway…

…we just want to FEEL better about ourselves…and if we feel white folks feel good about us, then maybe we will feel good about us too.

Man, I miss Ice Cube from 1991. For all of the criticism he caught, he had the right idea. Focus on us first, fuck how they think.

This is why we can’t rise as a people, X. It has nothing to do with Three 6 Mafia. They won that award because the Academy didn’t give a shit about how we view ourselves. They liked the song. Same reason Terrence Howard was nominated for his role, because he played a good ass pimp (no pun intended).

Somebody needs to do a study on why we’re so good at portraying the very stereoypes we rail against.

And on why we care so damn much what white people think…please, somebody explain it to me.

(And on how we can keep Flavor Flav on TV for as long as possible, with a possible reality show featuring Crunchy Black as well.)

(Most Known Unknowns no longer…now white people know who you are.)

“Crunchy Black has an Oscar. We have to prepare ourselves for the fact that the world may be coming to an end.” ~ semi-incorrect words (Cruncy Black actually isn’t one of the authors or producers of the song…hence he didn’t really win shit…but the sentiment is still right) uttered by my boy The Great, shortly after Queen Latifah announced to the world that members of Three 6 Mafia won the oscar for Best Original Song.

And I couldn’t be happier. Well aside from the potential end of the world, but I had a good run.

Seriously.

Admittedly, I’m black.

Yes I know. Shocking. What that means is that much like every other black person that can read or even knows who Truman Capote was, I was a tad nervous as to what the Three 6 Mafia was going to bring to the stage last night. Nervous might not be the right word.

Terrified might be more appropos.

Honestly, I hid under my couch while they were performing. Okay, that was dumb. I don’t have a couch. I have a futon.

But lo and behold, Three 6 gave us the absolute whitest rendition of that song they could give, complete with white interpretive dancers and…fuck it, they gave us interpretive dancers period. There was actual choreography (and they thanked the choreographer on stage…who saw THAT coming?) to give the song somewhat of a more finessed feel. And it worked. I’m as amazed as anybody else, but it worked. It was a good performance. Very white (mainstream), but good.

After it was over…I made sure to look out my window to see if time had magically reverted back to the mid-1800’s. Apparently, they DID NOT set us back.

Even Taraji Henson was lovely, if not a smidge out of place in her Oscar gown. I love her. She’s so ‘hood it’s ridiculous.

To cap off the toned down performance, Taraji Henson ended the song with a run that I couldn’t find on my Hustle & Flow soundtrack for shit. I listened over and over again and it just wasn’t there. Yes, I own it. And love it.

Basically, they did what anybody put in their position would do. They made you focus on the actual song as opposed to the people delivering it.

Which is the EXACT opposite of what a good 99% of us expected.

We ain’t shit.

A damn shame how sometimes we forget that though some of these rappers seem to exude ghetto-ocity in everything they do, they are ultimately smart people who have made moves and shakes to be successful at their chosen field. We don’t give them much credit apparently. And we can argue about their business acumen later, but you will be wrong.

However, as surprised as I was at the performance, NOTHING prepared me for the fact that they would actually win the Oscar for Best Original Song…against Dolly “My Boobs Are Too Big To Box With God” Parton.

And once again, I couldn’t be happier.

Since they are black, out of nowhere, we got the obligatory…”thank you Jesus.”

Good times.

But back to the surprise of them winning. You know, I know a lot of black folks who have disdain for the movie and further couldn’t care less about no damn “It’s Hard Out Here For A Pimp” song. Me, I love the song. I’ll be the first to tell you.

I’m a fan of Three 6 Mafia. I’m not saying that they are the best rappers out there, but I’ll be damned if they can’t put together a good album. And who wasn’t bumping “Stay Fly (High)” since last summer? But many a nigra was downright offended by the Oscar’s choice of that song. Not even realizing how good the song was IN RELATION TO THE MOVIE. It fit the movie to a “T”…which is the POINT.

[***Sidenote: What the fuck does that saying "to a T" mean anyway? Is it because the the horizontal line sits right up there perfectly balanced in the actual formation of the "T"? And does it matter if its lowercase? Also, does that take into account the use of nails and other hardware in today's societ? Inquiring minds would like to know. ***]

We fell into the old, “well see we only get nominated for shit like that…” Yada yada yada. And since there were so many people who either hated or loved the movie, black people that is, had we been voting, it wouldn’t have won.

Thank God for white people. Oh, and the Academy… who are the ones who voted for that song to win. Oh right, I had the Academy covered by saying white people. Let Halle, Denzel, and Jamie Foxx in and I done plum forgot that that’s only 4.

Speaking of which, somebody needs to get Denzel’s vote card…STAT. I wonder which song he voted for? Because you KNOW Jamie Foxx voted for “…Pimp” to win. Did you see how happy he was??? I myself just laughed for a good 5 minutes. In glee bitches, in glee.

Hell, now I’m waiting for them to drop their next album featuring the lead-single, club banger, “Bitch I Got An Oscar”. I think it would go something like this:

“they hatin’ on us but we did it/so fuck all them hatin’ violatin’ ass bitches/you bitch nigga’s sittin at home had to watch us/cuz I’m Juicy J and Bitch I got an Oscar”

Speaking of which…on the song “Stay Fly (High)”, Juicy J quips: “I ain’t Denzel, but I know I’m a star”. Well, now you and Denzel have both been recognized by the Academy. You both have Oscars. What are the odds of seeing a collabo between Jamie Foxx, Denzel, and Three 6 Mafia doing a song called “Oscar Nigga!”

There’s so much potential out there now.

Also, what are the odds on Kanye deciding that he wants an Oscar now too. He is doing the song for “Mission Impossible 3.” Will we have to hear him bitch and moan if he doesn’t win next year? Probably…but fuck him today, because Three 6 Mafia is on top of the world.

As much as we want to hate on them, those niggas got themselves an Oscar. In the famous words of Jon Stewart:

“Martin Scorcese zero Oscar’s, Three 6 Mafia…one!”

Collar’s were popped, clubs were torn up, spinners were rode, two-ways were exchanged with freaks, and sizzurp was sipped.

And George Clooney got bigged up.

“You leave you’re Oscar ’round me, bitch you’re Oscar gonna get snatched up…”

Good damn job.