Am I the only Black person who’s slightly baffled by white people’s complete fascination with the now ended-cable only televisoin show The Wire?

White people freakin’ loved that show. I know Black folks who never watched it but I can walk into my bathroom at work and hear two random white people talking about The Wire. And I mean they read all the articles published about it and go out searching for more information.

Hell, I feel like if I was from West Baltimore, I’d get a raise.

Interesting times this country finds itself in right about now.

We’ve already reached the point where history is changed forever. Either a woman or a Black man is going to be the actually electable nominee to be the next President of the United States.

Glory day. Who’d a thunk it? Not I. I can honestly say I didn’t expect a Black man to ever really be put in this position in my lifetime. But I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if it ain’t the case.

So yeah, what to do?

I really don’t care much for politics at all, strange considering my actual day job. I’m knee deep in political shit on a day to day basis. That’s probably why I don’t care for politics now. I’ve been made into a total skeptic. Add to the fact that I’ve spent so much time studying radical and revolutionary organizations and my view of a government by the people, for the people, and of the people is that it’s utter bullshit.

Which is ALSO funny considering that despite my lack of trust and belief in the government…I work for the motherfuckers.

Thing is, these folks pay me every two weeks. On-time. Government money doesn’t come short, ya dig? Yeah, we’re heading for a recession but I’ll bet I’ve got some job security, Jack.

And Jill.

So Senator Barack Obama has a legit chance. Now being the skeptic that I am, I really couldn’t care less who ends up in the White House, Republican or Democrat. I know the process for which government runs and I realize that ideas are just that. Many an idea has died at the feet of Congress and the Executive Branch. However, I suppose you still have to try and believe…have the audacity of hope, if you will.

I suppose.

But see, I’m also a Black man. And being that there is a real chance that a Black man could become President I’ve stumbled upon a cause as to why I simply have to throw my weight behind Obama.

I cannot be responsible for Obama NOT getting elected. You see, if he doesn’t get the nomination, I can’t be one of the responsible people. I just can’t. Not when a Black man has a real chance. I can always vote for Hillary later. And truth be told, I don’t necessarily believe in either one of them any more than other. But I mean…

…as a Black man, how can I not support another Black man in his hour of most need? I realize that a lot of Black people are supporting Hillary Clinton’s bid. You vote with your head and decide which candidate best reflects your views. However, I’m pretty sure that some people out there, if they REALLY examined their views, would end up on the Republican side of things, but they aren’t going to vote for McCain. Voting for who inspires you is important and neither of the candidates really inspires me.

However…to hell with the issues. As long as they aren’t SO off-base with my own beliefs, the Black man is getting my vote everytime. Unless that Black man is Jesse or Al because my Blackness also can’t allow me to vote for them for shit.

We don’t know when we’ll get this opportunity again and yes I’m playing the race card. How can I not support a viable Black candidate who’s politics are similar enough to Hillary Clinton. I don’t see how any Black person can. I just cannot be the reason he didn’t get the opportunity. I couldn’t live myself given all the walking and talking I do about the Black community.

I know a lot of women are saying that Hillary’s woman-ness will focus more on women’s issues. But seriously, in our nation, outside of Roe v. Wade, which issues pertain strictly to women. Sure there are issues in the workplace about equal pay and treatment. But hell, that ALSO straddles racial lines. The majority of issues our nation faces are class issues, not ones of gender.

And lest we forget, Obama is married to a Black woman who will be in his ear. And since Hillary has trumpeted her time as Slick Willie’s wife as viable experience in the White House, then Michelle Obama will turn out to be just as qualified to advise on issues related to womenhood and bring those ideas to him. And ain’t no Black wife gonna just sit around idly and let her man NOT address certain things. Hell, Black women get mad when they think we aren’t handling a dinner bill with an error the appropriate way. You think she WOULDN’T get straight gully if he wasn’t doing what he said he was going to do?

But I digress.

Fact is I’m Black. And one of my Black comrades has the chance to do what hasn’t be done before.

And I can’t be a person standing in his way. I have to help his way.

So Obama…here’s looking at you, kid.

Ba-Rack The Vote, bitches.

happy hunting.

It’s a buyers market right now in these streets. If you’re looking for a home across the nation, chances are that you’re able to do some negotiating.

Unless you’re happy ass lives in New York City–specifically Manhattan.

As per CNN.com: Manhattan Home Prices: Still Crazy

Of course, it makes perfect sense to anybody who spends a few moments thinking about it. Manhattan is an island.

Class…what’s an island?

Isaac: Island is what happens before I get off the plane!

Oy vey. My guitar gently weeps for education in this country.

An island is a body of land surrounded by water. And do you know what that means? It means that there is no additional land in Manhattan. You can only build up unlike nearly everywhere else in the nation that’s begun to sprawl. Which of course means that the demand is outstripping supply.

See, unbuyers market. Those that can read might also refer to this as a “seller’s market”.

Peep game:

The median (midpoint) price for a condo or co-op apartment rose 15 percent to $915,000, according to the Corcoran Group, one of New York’s biggest brokers. Surveys by two other brokerages, Brown Harris Stevens and Halstead, showed 14 percent growth, to $828,000.

A survey by Prudential Douglas Elliman showed lower growth, at 6.4 percent, but a median price of $850,000.

Got damn. I’d love to say that puts housing prices in D.C. in perspective, however, I still think that prices are just too damn high here as well. There is no reason that a shell of a townhome should cost $400,000 in a neighborhood where folks still get robbed in broad daylight.

Like mine.

What this does let me know is that it is very likely that there is no way in Hades I’ll ever be copping a spot in Manhattan. Unless…

Even Manhattan’s bargain (comparatively) areas are getting into the act. “Prices are way up, uptown,” said Miller, “and the market share is much higher.” Many Manhattanites, priced out of other areas, have turned to Harlem and points north.

Hmm…do tell.

Corcoran lists a two-bedroom, 2,000 square-foot condo in Central Harlem for nearly $1.8 million. All told, Harlem prices rose a whopping 56 percent this year, to a median of $610,000, according to Halstead.

According to Liebman, Harlem will be a very hot market. “It’s easily commutable, many of the buildings have Central Park views and there are a lot of great buildings to redevelop; it has good bones. You get the most bang for the buck there.”

Ruh-roh.

You know, I’m not from New York but have been enough times where the allure of the city doesn’t excite me anymore. Now it’s just another place. However, I’ve always had this mystical like view of Harlem and it’s importance to the Black community.

It had a Renaissance for God’s sake. Do you realize how many niggas know what Renaissance mean solely because of the Harlem Renaissance?!

So with people looking for more bang for their buck, and rightfully so, you do realize that Harlem as we once knew it is ripe for the pickings and clearly on the way out. Black people?!

Do you hear me?

Harlem is on the way out.

Interesting enough, it almost baffles me why it’s taken so long for Harlem to completely flip anyway. Sure there are lots of white people making that trek currently. I remember walking down 125th Street and seeings lots of white people and thinking to myself, “I wondered when this was going to happen.”

Though let me also say this, I’m not sure who my world would react to the loss of both Harlem AND Bed-Stuy, as is happening. That’s just too much of a shock to my system. It’s like losing Morehouse AND Howard.

Fact is, housing is cheaper at a time when nationwide, gentrification is happening left and right. As much as I theoretically hate gentrification, I do understand it’s social implications. Though apparently all the Black folks in my neighbhorhood didn’t get the memo since white people STAY losing in my neighborhood.

In November, while getting out of his car after work, a chap was forced BACK into his car, robbed, THEN forced to enter his home where he was tied up and subsequently robbed again.

In my neighborhood. D.C. stand up. And this amidst $600K and $700K homes. AND not an isolated incident.

Nobody said gentrification was going to be easy.

And oh yes, Baltimore is insane. Do not live there.

Fact is, Harlem is going the way of the condor and with relative housing prices like they are in New York City…

…get ready to hear about the new reincarnation of the DipSet records…in Hoboken.

It’s no secret that race relations in this nation are nowhere near perfect. There are still various semblances of Jim Crow era law enforcement present as evidenced by the Jena 6 cases and the few and far between indictments of police officers killing Black men left and right.

Not to mention the still very real imbalances across the board in terms of just sheer equality. Without a real leader to help push the envelope, I fear that these systemic problems will linger forever. Ambulance-chaser Jesse Jackson and A Pimp Named Straighback (Al) just don’t resonate with the people. For one, they might be less proactive than the KKK in actually starting the conversations geared towards racial balance. Best believe though, if a nigga stubs his toe and a white man’s around???

They got your back.

For two, it’s just really hard to take a motherfucker serious when he has a perm. Sure, we should look past the surface and see what’s on the inside, but hell, you can’t see what’s on the inside because we’re too damn distracted by his follicle folly. You wouldn’t trust Snoop to lead the racial revolution in this nation but at least he has entertainment to fall back on as his reason -do-perm.

Al…not so much. And Al, James Brown is dead. You can get a haircut now.

Seriously, does your pastor have a perm? I remember driving thru southwest Atlanta a few months ago and seeing a billboard of a pastor with a perm. At that point, I realized I could never go to his church. If you ever want me to listen to you, don’t get a perm if you got a set of balls.

Anyway, this morning, it came to me like a song I wrote. I realized the one person who could lead our nation out of the shrouded shadowy past of which we cannot transcend; the individual who could exact such reason and common sense on the masses that we couldn’t help but to listen. He doesn’t have a perm (though he might have had one at on point). Black and white people love him.

I’m speaking of…

…Justin Timberlake (with an assist from Timbaland).

Okay, I see you all looking at me like I’m crazy. But follow me.

Who doesn’t like Justin Timberlake? I mean really. He managed to not only successfully move on past being in a fruity-cum-fruity boy band (albeit the most successful one) but he did so AND gained a gazillion Black fans in the process.

He’s also banging Jessica Biel which gets him so many points. She’s hot.

Justin has worked with Beyonce (which totally elevated the song “Until The End of Time” to magnanimous heights), Three 6 Mafia, the Clipse, 50 Cent and has slept with Cameron Diaz, Britney Spears, Jessica Biel, and numerous other white chicks.

Do you see what this means? It means that even the most gangsta of knuccas will listen to him and all the white girls will too. That’s who we need in order to bring about racial harmony. Kumbaya isn’t but a dream anymore kiddies. It’s a possibility.

Even Black women love him, though they all think he’s gay. But hell, that helps too. Anybody that will listen. And despite the fallout from Nipplegate, he totally got to touch Janet Jackson’s nipple.

How many people can say they got to do that?

Aside from El Debarge and JD probably not that many people. Granted, I don’t exactly want to touch it now as it’s aged quite a bit, but it’s still Janet Jackson’s ta-ta. That speaks to something.

Justin Timberlake makes songs for all people. He speaks for everybody and makes sure to provide us with what we need in the process. He brought sexy back despite me never letting it go in the first place, but he did it with flair so I gave him a pass. And be real, most of us thought “Sexyback” was an asstastic mess when it dropped, but still, we loved it because it was Justin.

If Justin can bring all the white girls to the table, the white men will follow eventually. Where there’s pussy, there is desire for pussy. The gangsta dudes will make all the wannabe gangsta knuccas (namely the rest of us) want to come to the table of equity. Justin could then broker a deal that would result in racial harmony for one…for all.

If JT keeps singing his little heart away and Timbaland continues to guide his heart with help from Danja Handz, then nothing but good can come for mankind.

If Justin decided tomorrow that he wanted racial harmony, then by George, it would be. That’s the power of the curly haired chap from Memphis. He reaches us all.

Let us all reach back.

I wonder if white people walk into a room full of white people and notice that everybody is, ya know, white?

I know I do (I’m Black though). Everytime I walk into a room where the overwhelming majority of people are white I not only notice but I look for the other person(s) of color in the room. Of course, once I notice them, we spend the the duration of time that we’re in said location pretending not to notice one another.

But we notice. Oh, how we notice. I’m sure that white people do it as well if they walk into a room full of coloreds. But that’s mostly because they’re in jail at that point and it’s going to be lights out pretty soon for them anyway.

Lights out?!? That’s a pun and I didn’t even intend it. There should be a term for those puns that people accident-upon. Something like: no pun intended.

That’d be swell.

This recognition-lack of recognition of one another makes me realize something: Black people are fucked. We have the worst sense of unity of any other cultural group; I’m convinced of it. I went to both an HBCU and a big ole’ white public state school on the East Coast. At HBCU’s there’s no rush to speak or even notice all the Black people since we’re in such abundance. Nevermind that it’s a completely false representation of the real world and that it shouldn’t be taken for granted that we’re in the midst of likeminded individuals who can actually read and aren’t afraid of information at the same place at the same time. Yet we kind of gloss over the importance and landmarkism of it.

It’s college, who the fuck cares. Give me my hours and give me my degree. Fuck you, pay me.

Amazing how many people long for the constant recognition of successful driven Black people once they graduate (unless you went to Morehouse since ninjas apparently don’t graduate from there much) and re-enter the world we’re all more familiar with — you know, the world where its hard as hell to find the professional Black crowd and we’re often left longing for the intellectual stimulation that comes along with late night arguments about which A Tribe Called Quest album was better, The Low-End Theory or Midnight Marauders.

It’s Midnight Marauders, by the way. You can disagree but you will be wrong.

At our HBCU’s we see eachother but we don’t really notice one another. We’re just all there so we assume we’ll always be there. Don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone kind of thing.

And then we have the big ass state schools were there’s usually a handful of coloreds who STILL make all attempts NOT to notice one another. When I went to Big Ass State University, every time I’d see a Black person I’d speak. Hell, we had the same struggle. We were pepper sprinkles in a big ass cauldron of salt. Not just that, but filled with lots of salt that didn’t really want much peppering.

Ignored.

Constantly. At first I took it personal. Why on earth would these motherfuckers have the audacity to not respond back to me saying “hello.” These northern bastards. Then I realized that its part of the same shit we all do, even amidst times when we should have unity. We spend time noticing but not noticing one another as if to act like we don’t need to.

We have no unity. We have no unity when we’re unified and we have no unity when we should have unity and the opportunity exists. I don’t give a damn if I’ve never met you in life. If I walk into a KKK meeting and I see a Black cat you better believe I’m going to notice him since we have a common struggle.

Assuming I’m at a KKK meeting out common struggle is probably literally a struggle but hey, common is common.

Unless it’s Common Sense. Which is just not what it used to be.

That’s got a double meaning.

Sometimes I’ll go out of my way to speak to the other Negroes in a room. Of course, then we look like a gang which is never a good thing when you’re in the midst of a bunch of people who know how to dial 911 and aren’t afraid that 911 won’t result in action.

Our lack of unity — which is partially caused by our rise in social and economic status, face it, we don’t all have the same struggle anymore — is ultimately our downfall. We want equality but we all won’t even get on the same page in a room full of people who don’t look like us. Which is why Black people are fucked.

I only wish we’d notice.

I’ve got two words for you: Jean “Motherfucking” Strahan.

Also known as the ex-wife, divorcé of one New York Football Giant, Michael Strahan.

Actually that’s three words unless you just count the “Motherfucking” as a nickname (which I do), therefore making it interchangeable, which still renders it as two words. Logic be damned.

Fellas, you REALLY need to consider the shit that you do while you’re married because this here justice system is going to fuck you with no vaseline. Basically, don’t get caught cheating on your wife or you just might lose roughtly 70 percent of your net worth.

Yes bitches, not 50, but 70.

Such is the case in this sad tale about divorce, retribution, and a (must be) woman judge.

To wit:

Michael got taken to the cleaners to the tune of $15.3 million in the divorce (New York Daily News headline: “Wife: 15,000,000, Strahan: 0″). He also had to vacate the couple’s 1906 Montclair, N.J. mansion, the one with the 22,000-square feet, 12 bedrooms, seven baths and a garage big enough for 20 cars.

The ruling was even more than Jean actually sought for the less than six years of marriage. The judge wound up giving up more than half of Michael’s estimated $22 million of net worth. from article, “Giant Headache” from Yahoo! Sports

Say it with me, class: Gotdamn! Dude, getting taken to the cleaners is so not heavy metal. However, if he OJs her ass with a gun instead of a knife, that would definitely qualify him as hip-hop.

Gunplay is so hip-hop. Word to Smith & Wesson.

And why did he get fucked 40 ways from Sunday taken to the cleaners? My guess is he sucks as a husband, but this probably helped:

Strahan’s rep took a beating in the divorce. It was alleged he ditched his wife and twin 2-year-old daughters to jet off with his mistresses, one he supposedly called “Cupcake.” Then there was the time, Jean alleged, he secretly videotaped her sister as she undressed only to later allegedly deposit $30,000 in her bank account.

And, maybe most damaging to female viewers, there was the rebuke by the judge for not remembering Jean’s birthday or their wedding anniversary. Every man knows that’s tough to overcome.

Dude, calling a woman, “Cupcake” is so not the hotness. I don’t care if she is just your jump-off sperm holder. But that’s WAY better than videotaping your sister-in-law undress. For fuck’s sake, what were you thinking? Things like that are what makes marriage such a fading institution. You just can’t trust anybody these days. Plus, people apparently can’t keep secrets either since he allegedly “secretly” taped his sister-in-law but motherfucking Yahoo! Sports knows about it. Some secret, Santa.

It’s no wonder El Idiote Strahan got laundered. He approached his cheating with reckless abandon and if the child support case of Diddy is any indication, New York state doesn’t play when it comes to infidelity and uberfuckery. Of course there is a downside to this whole thing (aside from the serious downside that Strahan will have to face if the actual settlement goes through, he’s appealing)…

…you see, Jean Strahan just might catch a bad one. Michael Strahan is a rich nigga. But he is also about to become a broke nigga. Yes people, he will not be able to live like he used to live once his career ends (like in a year). And you do not mess with a Black man’s money. She’s white too?! Oy vey. I’m getting OJ flashback as we speak, except instead of a white Bronco, it will be a black Escalade with limo tints and a bulletproof fiberglass casing.

Let’s just say, Jean Strahan might need some security because she took his house, his money, and she doesn’t really have to do shit except sit back and laugh at him.

“I ain’t saying he should have killed her, but I understand…” ~ Chris Rock, Bring The Pain, 1996

Word to the wise when purchasing a wife…let the buyer beware.

That bitch might cost you 25 to life one day.

Michael Strahan, this is your life.

It’s time for another observation that has me totally baffled. Yet, I almost think I get this one…

I party a lot these days. Not so much because I like going out all of the time. Nope. It’s because I’m forced to be a participator about 5 days a week with a current part-time full-time venture I’m apart of. You see, Panama Muhf****n’ is a manager of a nightclub in Washington, DC. At night - I still have the day job as well.

Sleep be damned.

Amongst my observations and basically uber-noshit observations is that anytime you want to get a party going with a bunch of 25-and-up’s, your best bet is to throw on BBD’s “Poison”. Well, that amongst other songs but “Poison” just has an amazing effect on the crowd.

Hands go up. Ass’s prepare to shake. And old school dances come from that inner place inside most of us where we stuff our Hammerpants and adoration of Michael Jackson: The Before-I-Lost-My-Damn-Mind Years. The cross-leg-kick-step dance comes out and the folks with the real skills process to the middle of the floor while everybody watches the old-school showdowns. It’s like stripping with clothes on and less niggas making it rain (on them hoes).

It’s a lot of fun and I’m sure most people are a witness.

Hallelujah!

It is, in effect, a club-banger; one of those tracks that the DJ holds on to because you don’t want to break it out too early before the party really gets going. It’s the track that can shift your party into the next gear. Of course, it has to be followed up by something equally jarring, like…what is the perfect follow up song to “Poison”. In all of my years of club-going, I wonder if I’ve ever stopped to smell the hummus and ponder on the fact that any sequence of songs was just perfect.

Well, recently I’ve gone out to a few white clubs. I have some friends in town for the summer who are less than Negroid. Of course the music is different though there are definite similarities. It’s like listening to the pop station versus the urban station. Except there’s one glaring difference.

Hmm…stop. I don’t know if it’s just me but my senses get on high alert when certain songs with the word “nigga” in them come on in white clubs. I can’t help but watch as people mimic the lyrics, including the word “nigga”. Got damn strength in numbers. Of course, it’s a white club for a reason. Only a few Black folks are ever usually there, scoping the white chicks.

I’ve seent it with my own two eyes.

Well, do you realize that white clubs actually play and use Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby” much in the same way that urban clubs use “Poison”? Mind you, I’m talking about college bars and clubs like that where there’s no dress code and lots of people wear Abercrombie & Fitch.

I almost spit my drink out the first time I heard “Ice Ice Baby” and was in utter amazement that it was being played and that people were losing their minds. I must have said something a good 10 times to my friends like…”white people actually LIKE this?”

Of course, I also realize that white people don’t take (in general) club music as serious as some of us Black folks do. I can’t even imagine a DJ throwing some Vanilla Ice in the mix at an urban establishment. Niggas would literally stop moving and all stare at the DJ while he went into, “I’m just joking people…” and go into something way more appropos.

You know, I was almost offended that everybody was okay with “Ice Ice Baby” then I realized that before I really cared about rap, I probably loved that song like everybody else when it came out and helped to make Vanilla Ice the multi-millionaire that he is today.

Do you all realize that Vanilla Ice claimed to have been dangled over a balcony over royalties from the song “Ice Ice Baby” by Suge Knight and then claimed that it was a lie.

My guess is that he probably got dangled over a balcony after the original claim causing him to say it never happened.

Funny how life happens sometimes, isn’t it?

Anyway…this was just another boring observation that I’ve made lately. Still stepping my blogging game up again…

Plus, I drink Kool-Aid with my family.

It was written.

Thank you and good night.

You know how most people lead into stories or articles with some kind of dramatic introduction?

You do?

Yeah, me too. In fact, I usually do that myself. However, today I’m just going to ask the question.

Why in the hell do white people have no concept of personal space whatsoever?

I know I can’t be the only person who’s noticed this phenomenon. I used to think it was solely limited to nightclubs but apparently it’s just encoded in the DNA of white people to disregard all unwritten laws of space.

Case in point: Today, I ventured to my friendly neighborhood sandwich shop to partake of some of my favorite low priced vittles (I like the word vittles too). Three young Abercrombie-ish blonde chicks were right behind me annoying me as any group of young white girls is prone to do. Just like usual, I like, heard the word, like, like, too many times. Like, for real, I like, hate that shit.

Like.

Well, as I’m standing in line minding my own business, one of them is doing a steady slow take-over move. She might think she was sly, but my Negrosense had already taken over. What’s the Negrosense you ask?

It’s the sense that lets all Negroes know when white people are about to do something that might compromise your freedom.

Negrosense: Don’t leave home without it.

So as Blondey is slowly moving forward behind me, to the point where she’s brushing my arm with her purse, I kind of do the middle-of-the-line standstill manuever, which states that I’m in sole ownership of this slot. Stay your blonde ass back, beyotch.

Well, she must have caught me slipping or something because next think I know, one of the three is standing RIGHT next to me in line. Mind you, this isn’t the line to get on a roller coaster where you need two people. Also, we weren’t playing mixed doubles (kind of a double meaning term there, don’t ya know?) so there’s no need for us to be standing side by side as Ebony and Ivory sans Richard Pryor and Richard Gere.

I found my Blackness welling up in me as I was about to ask, what in Sam Hill are you doing? Why the fuck are you so close to me.

But I regained my composure and gave her the quick evil Black man glare. You know the glare…the one that works when you’re driving and somebody is unnecessarily tailgating. You give ‘em the glare and they slow way up behind you.

Anyway…for a good 5 minutes the Blonde Ambition Tour behind was in their place. As soon as the chick behind the counter goes to making my sandwich, here goes one of my transgressors AGAIN all on my back. After the 4th time of her hitting me with her purse, she says “sorry” and I just looked in to her soul.

I think I saw Sarah Silverman in there. Not sure, it was either her or the Band Camp girl.

Needless to say, I hate those chicks who were behind me. And its just like at a club. White people already can’t dance. If you throw a lack of personal space respectism in there, then you have the recipe for cuffed up Tims and pissedofftivity. They bump into you all willy nilly with little regard for the 6 feet of actual free space surrounding them.

I swear I went to the bathroom once where it was just me and one other white guy and he bumped me from across the room forcing me to spray the wall with God’s natural golden waterfall.

Okay, that didn’t really happen, but it could have because white people have no concept of personal space.

Damn close talkers.

You get to close to Black folks and we’re ready to fight. White people just try to become one with you at all times minus the Diplo shot and faulty Lifestyle condoms.

Speaking of which, did you hear about the fake Trojan Magnum condoms being sold in NYC? Way to stick it-pun intended-to Black people. When was the last time you heard of a white guy buying Magnums? First they take out the Black Panthers and now this.

Actually, first the Fat Boys breakup. No, wait…it was the Panthers first. Then the P. Stones.

Oh hell, you get the point.

Just thought I’d share since I know that every Black person who knows white people who knows Black people (you) who knows white people (them) has had to deal with this at some point. My suggestion?

Stab them.

Thank you and good night.

“He’s a nigger.”

Everybody in the world by this point has heard about Michael Richards’ blow up the other day. I’ve turned his name into a verb, adjective, and adverb by this point.

I called somebody a Michael Richard’s ass nigga the other day.

I wasn’t exactly outraged by the video clip. Perhaps I’ve just come to accept these things as part of society. Sure he was wrong, and sure he’s a bigot, and yes I believe he meant exactly what he said. Thing is, I don’t actually think he’s any different than any number of white people out there.

Or Black people.

Us Black people just don’t have a word that evokes the same type of historical symbolism as the dreaded n-word. If we had one, I’m sure we’d be using it too.

Mind you, none of that makes it okay. Michael Richards was wrong on all fronts. He wasn’t even funny. He seemed like a possessed jack-ass.

Well, of course, the Black community is responding to this incident through recharged efforts to stop everybody from using the n-word. I use the n-word. A lot actually. Not even intentionally. I think I’ve just been using it so long, for whatever reason, that it’s become second nature. I never use it around white people, which makes me believe that I could stop if I wanted to. Similar to cursing in front of one’s parents. I don’t curse in front of mom dukes.

Anyway, everybody’s favorite Johnny-come-lately civil rights group, the NAACP, has taken up the cause of trying to eradicate the usage of the n-word. And though I think that there are a million other problems more worth addressing, this time, I just might pay attention to their efforts because of one man.

Paul Mooney.

According to Allhiphop.com, Paul Mooney has taken to stopping his usage of the word.

Legendary African-American comedian Paul Mooney, who has written controversial material for comedians like Richard Pryor and Dave Chappelle, is well known for his using the word in his own comedy routines.

Like Paul Wall and the late Richard Pryor, Mooney has vowed to never use the word again during his routine. “I’ve used it and abused it, and I never thought I’d say this,” Mooney said. “Richards is my Dr. Phil ��� he’s cured me.”

Anybody familiar with Paul Mooney knows how often he uses that word. I mean, one of his favorite lines was that he said the word 100 times when he woke up in the morning because it kept his teeth white.

So for Paul Mooney to decide that he will no longer use the word, similar to the path of Richard Pryor and other luminary comedians of the past, at least gives me pause.

Not exactly pause enough to stop using it, but it at least makes me think. I suppose I’m somewhat of a contradiction when it comes to the n-word. For one, I will never use it around white people…ever. It just seems stupid to me to do so. However, I still use it around Black people. And I know that the hip-hop community has co-opted it into a term of endearment and legions of n-words everywhere think nothing of it as we use it daily, but it is still problematic.

For instance, we hate the Confederate battle flag, which is a symbol of the old, racist, slave-holding South. Black folks get into a tizzy when they see that flag. Yet we use the other symbol, the n-word.

My solution has long just been to do the same thing that we did with the n-word. Make it ours. I’ve planned on creating a red, black, and green confederate battle flag for years. And Lil Jon and Andre 3000 have both rocked Black and White confederate flags in videos.

Then again, that doesn’t really make much of a change now does it? I’d like to say I’m torn here, but I’m really not. I like doing things that spark controversy and a red/black/green Confederate flag would do just that. But I also like inciting some sort of emotion in racist white people…

…and defacing that flag does just that. I can imagine me walking around in Alabama with my own t-shirt version of that flag. Hell, I might get beat down because of it.

Guess that would be what it feels like for a white man to call a Black man a nigger…because white rednecks take that flag seriously.

I have no idea if I’ll ever really stop using the n-word. I suppose at some point I’ll just get tired of it or perhaps I’ll see the “light”. Maybe not. It doesn’t offend me that much. And I’m around like 8 white people in my entire life right now. And none of them would call me that to my face so I don’t even get the opportunity to get riled up about it anymore like I used to when I was in high school in Alabama.

It’s often strange to me what causes us to get active in this nation as Black people. We need some sort of impetus to bring to the people so that we can get motivated about something. People use the n-word everyday, white people I mean, but the second a famous person says it, we are able to organize into some sort of driving force.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. What’s the good of being an organization if you only act when something bad happens? You can never really create change if your only reactive. It’s transparent. If you only show up after the fire but don’t do anything in the first place to prevent it, you lose credibility, which is usually where I stand with the NAACP and lots of the once prominent civil rights organizations. No more proactivity…all reactive.

All in all, this whole discussion about the n-word is interesting. One, everybody knows all of the problems and everybody knows the most easy and effective solution. But nobody knows if it will make a difference. If nobody, whites or Blacks, used the n-word, would anything really change? Does it even count as a step in the right direction? I suppose in some ways it does…then again, I’m skeptical as race will never go away and therefore racism will never go away.

I mean, we’ll all be different colors forever.

Perhaps without the n-word we wouldn’t have to be reminded of it verbally.

Unfortunately, we’ll always be able to still feel it…

Such is life.

I’m Black.

It’s a song. It’s a notion. It’s a culture. It’s a physical trait.

It’s apparently also a reason to act up on a whim. Or at least that’s the thought behind so many stupid ass solutions to problems that arise in public establishments.

Probably thought up by other Black people.

Hence, the AEB: The Anti-Ethnicity Brigade.

What is the AEB? It is the braintrust that comes together to determine how best to prevent shit from occurring when ninjas are involved. You’ve probably dealt with the AEB on more occasions than you realize, you just paid it no mind. You see, the AEB looks at a problem and says, “that problem occurred because ninjas were involved. If we remove the catalyst for ninja-like behavior, we shall have a much safer environment.”

Common sense be damned.

Allow me to example-ize the AEB for you.

Recently, my boy The Doc and I went out to eat for a little late night dinner. We ventured to a Ruby Tuesday’s in Washington, DC’s Gallery Place-Chinatown district. As of late, this area is a hot spot after years of being the not spot.

Well, the Doc and I are drinkers. And as is usually the case, when we chose a restaurant to patronize, we make sure that spirits are available. I usually order Long Island Iced Teas. I like them.

The Doc ordered a Hennessey and Coke. This conversation ensued:

Waiter: Sorry dog, we don’t have Henny or Yac (slangustic for Cognac).

The Doc: Umm…why?

Waiter: We had a brawl in her you know and ninjas were acting up so we don’t sell that anymore.

Me and The Doc look at eachother in puzzled look…then look at the waiter…

Me: But you still sell other liquor right? So you all assume that just because you DON’T give ninjas Henny, they’ll act right? Perhaps we’ll just get souped up on vodka instead then fuck some shit up…Vodka style. Um…that’s dumb.

What you have just witnessed is complete idiocy in practice.

Somebody thought that it would be a good idea to stop serving ninjas Henny because apparently when full of Henny or Yac do we act a fool. I beg to differ. I believe we act a fool with or without liquor.

As we all know, pride is the number one killer of Black males between the ages of birth and death.

Liquor just makes the brawls bigger seeing as how a bunch of drunk ninjas aren’t going to be as accurate or careful as to not hurt themselves as a bunch of sober ninjas would. And even that’s being liberal as a bunch of ninjas in a brawl don’t really care what they damage, drunk or not.

But really, they still sell shots. They still sell vodka and whiskey. I STILL got a Long Island Iced Tea and my boy, The Doc? Just ordered a Jack and Coke.

Have you ever had Jack Daniels? There are white men in Tennessee fighting RIGHT now because they have too much Jack in their system. Oh yes, and Alabama and Mississippi too.

Verse 2, sippin’ on some OE brew…

…so there is an Applebee’s in Bed-Stuy in Brooklyn now. My boy, The Most Shady, lives in Bed-Stuy. When it opened, we both decided that we had to get in there on a Friday night because you KNOW that ninjas in the Stuy don’t know how to act already, so just imagine what could go down at Applebee’s!

Yes, ignorance and trees grow in Brooklyn.

Well, we haven’t made it here on a Friday night, but we did go on a Saturday afternoon. There were 4 of us going, and all three of the males had on hats. We get to the door and the bouncer (yes, a freakin’ bouncer) informs me that I have to remove my hat.

STOP.

Have you been to Applebee’s before? Not to say that it isn’t fine dining, but it’s not fine dining. Shit, I should be able to walk in there with a cut off t-shirt that says “I smack monkeys around like Ike got Tina”. Oh, right, apparently I can as long as I’m not wearing a hat. Now for some reason, this ri-damn-diculous policy made sense to my boys. Which makes no sense to me. It’s fuckin’ Applebee’s. They’re logic was that we’re in Bed-Stuy, which I can only take to mean that potentially you want to stop ninjas from being facially invisible in the attempt that some shit goes down. Fair enough, but no.

Another idea that was thrown out was that it was no different than the club where they have a dress code. Um, bullshit. It’s a fuckin’ restaurant, and not a top shelf one at that. A club has a certain reputation it may be trying to uphold. And that logic MIGHT work at Applebee’s if the waitresses perhaps weren’t tatted up like 50 Cent or gold-chained down like Run-DMC, or weren’t hair weaved up like any ghetto chick.

Further, it’s not a chainwide policy, it’s just that particular Applebee’s. Most likely due to location.

Maybe if they had a dress code as a whole, I’d look at it differently. No hats is not a dress code. I stand by that. Seems like another case of the AEB to me. Trying to say that if we remove hats from ninjas that either 1) we can see the criminals if they try to rob us (which is dumb…who the fuck robs restaurants? but it is Bed-Stuy I suppose anything is possible), or 2) they will act right…

…which we ALL know is just farcical. I could deal with a full dress code better than just removing my hat. Make me take out my removable grill. Or take off the limo-tint sunglasses I’m wearing…or perhaps the Tech-9 that I have under my jacket.

Maybe I’m just optimistic, but I believe that if a ninja wants to act up, he will. We have that kind of spirit. If I want to rob you, then by jove, I’m going to rob you, not because I will be successful, but because I believe in myself and my abilities.

It’s more of a glass half full approach.

I’m well aware that at times one must take the proper precautions to make sure that if you let certain people in, your establishment has at least a 51 percent chance of remaining intact once they leave. Then again, you never know what might set a person off or that the measures you take are actually going to work.

Here’s a straight forward analogy for you: Not serving Hennessey or Cognac in a restaurant in hopes of pre-empting ninja-like behavior while STILL serving all the other spirits (including Tequila and shit), is like using Saran Wrap to give a woman head but then having sex with her without a condom. In 2006.

It was written.