Sticks and Stones…

…may break my bones, but racial and derogatory words about people of Caribbean decent will get your ass kicked!

Miss Jones, a NYC DJ recently called Trinidadian-born Transit Workers’ Union President Roger Toussaint “a dumb coconut,” “who probably does not have a green card.” Aside from the comments being ignorant, they are crass and way out of line. True, there is a spoken and sometimes unspoken dividing line between people of Caribbean decent and Black Americans. Don’t know when, where, how or why it started. What I can attest to, is that Caribbean people have a strong sense of history and tradition, a concentrated work ethic and are not prone to assimilation. Black Americans, on the other hand, have major issues with why and how we got here, the debt we are still owed (40 acres, a mule and mad interest) and where we “belong.”

This aside, it is just plain wrong for Miss Jones, also known as Tarsha Nicole Jones, to make the divide even larger. As a member of the media, one is not allowed to incite a riot on a whim. Sounds like she, has issues with Caribbean people who have been able to come to the United States and make something out of nothing. It is jealousy, plain and simple. Sort of like that scene in School Daze where Dap and his boys run into some locals at the neighborhood KFC. The head local, so eloquently played by Samuel Jackson with a drip-drip curl in his head, has not done squat with his life. He blasts Dap and ‘em for he (the local) and his friends crappy lives. Jackson’s character also calls them "college fags." “We were born here, gone die here and can’t get jobs because of you college punks,” he declares. The claim is bullshit. Homeboy cannot get a job because he is lazy, shiftless and looking for a handout.

Added to that, Miss Jones better recognize; Caribbean folks own NYC. If they decided to shut it down for 48 hours, there would be mad pandemonium; way worse than that little 3-day transit strike (ya’ heard?). For now, a tab bit of advice for Miss Thang: the next time you become so inclined to do a little name calling or talk shit on the air, say whatever comes to your mind to yourself first, then don’t say a damn thing.

In Other Words:
Calling Toussaint...By Chanel Lee

“Say What?”


In November 2005, I had the unfortunate pleasure of watching the American Film Institute’s “Top 100 Movie Quotes” on AMC. The list was whack and lacked color, to say the least.

To date, nine people of a darker hue have earned Academy awards in the Actor category (Denzel has won twice: Supporting and Lead). There is no denying Black folk can act. With this much progress, you would think the AFI could have put in more effort than one stinking line from, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? And I think that was just "honorable mention." Pathetic.

Moreover, it is disheartening to see a list from an organization that brags of being american, but does not list any black americans as having made any contributions to film. Brings to mind a quote from The Tuskeegee Airmen: I know how I feel about my country. But how does my country feel about me? (Andre Braugher as Col. Benjamin O. Davis).

So, here is my list of 50. Regardless of what the AFI thinks, we have, in fact, said some profound shit.


PS This list only actually has a little more than 40 quotes. I could use some help from the movie aficionados. I am looking for quotes (as accurate as possible, please) from The Five Heartbeats, Shaft (the original), Stormy Weather, The Wiz and older classics.

	Movie	Line	Character
1	Armistad	Give us us free!	Joesph Cinque
2	Boyz ‘n the Hood	Either they don’t know, don’t show, or don’t care about what’s going on in the hood.	Doughboy
3	Mahogany	Success is nothing without someone to share it with!	Brian
4	Lady Sings The Blues	You want my arm to fall off?	Louis McKay
5	A Raisin in the Sun	Willie! Willie!	Walter Lee Younger
6	The Color Purple	All my life, I had to fight…a girl-child ain’t safe in a house full of men.	Sophia
7	The Great White Hope	Here I am…here I am!	Jack Johnson
8	Jungle Fever	I smoked the t.v.	Gator Purify
9	Do The Right Thing	Always do the right thing.	Da Mayor
10	School Daze	Once again, we as a people are late!	Vaughn “Dap”Dunlap
11	Boyz ‘n the Hood	Riiiiccccky!	Tre Styles
12	Boomerang	Love should have brought your ass home last night!	Angela
13	Coming to America	Girl you look so good, somebody oughta put you on a plate and sop you up with a biscuit.	Rev. Brown
14	Cooley High	I want to live forever.	Preacher
15	The Color Purple	It’s gone rain on your head.
16	Boyz ‘n the Hood	Why? They want us to kill ourselves.	Furious Styles
17	She’s Gotta Have It	Please baby, please, baby, baby, baby, please!	Mars Blackmon
18	Menace II Society	…asked if I cared whether I live or die. Yeah I do. Not it’s too late.	Caine
19	Claudine	…(regarding marrying Claudine) it would take welfare off the hook and put me on!	Roopert
20	The Color Purple	See Daddy, even sinners got soul, too!	Shug Avery
21	Malcolm X	We didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us!	Malcolm X
22	Soul Food	One finger pointing the blame can’t make no impact. But five fingers balled up can deliver a mighty blow!	Mama Joe
23	Love & Basketball	I’ll play you…for your heart.	Monica Wright
24	A Raisin in the Sun	In my Mother’s house, there is still God.	Benenthea Younger
25	The Color Purple	I’m poor, black, I might even be ugly, but dear God, I am here!	Celie
26	Bingo Long All-Stars	Don’t cost nothing to dance.	Leon Carter
27	Friday	It’s Friday, you ain’t got no job and you ain’t got shit to do.	Smokey
28	Cooley High	For the brothers who ain’t here.	Coolcheese/Preacher
29	The Color Purple	Hell, no (!)	Sophia
30	Malcolm X	The only thing I like integrated is my coffee.	Malcolm X
31	Cotton Comes to Harlem	Was that black enough for you?	Barry
32	Love & Basketball	All is fair in love and basketball.	Quincy McCall
33	Superfly	Freddy’s dead.
34	Ray	I gone make it do what it do.	Ray Charles
35	Love Jones	I am the blues in your left thigh, trying to become the funk in your right.	Darius Lovehall
36	The Color Purple	Until you do right by me, everything you even think of is going to fail.	Celie
37	Claudine	It’s doesn’t matter Mama. It’s gone wind up chicken (!)	Charlene
38	Boyz ‘n the Hood	(repeating his father’s words of advice)…Any fool with a dick can make a baby, but only a real man can raise his children.	(Young) Trey Styles
39	The Color Purple	You sitting at the head of your own dinner table and acting like the waiter!	Old Mr.
40	School Daze	Wake up!	Vaughn “Dap” Dunlap
41	New Jack City	Am I my brother’s keeper?	Nino Brown
42	Claudine	…before you go to bed tonight, take a good look at Charlene, grandma.	Charles
43	The Color Purple	You just a big ol’ heifer!	Squeak/MaryAlice
44	School Daze	You either work, or you starve. And I want to eat sirloin.	Grady
45
46
47
48
49
50

In Other Words:
Oscar History: Is the Oscar...by Emanuel Levy


Blacks had long wait...by Robert Booker

Hattie or Halle by Mark A. Rawls.

And the Oscar goes Black by Rasheeda Bhagat

Shiny or Tarnished, Oscar still golden by Tony Norman

(A) Peer point of view

I try to keep work and my work separate. While I love what I do for a living, it is not equal to what I do away from the job. Still, I felt moved to give a huge shout-out and kudos to an article, and especially to the author. Although I do not know this person outside of work, I know how hard she worked on this piece. Additionally, I know how much flack she has caught since the article's publication.

Although evolving by the minute, most Atlanta (and Georgia) residents still considers the city (and the state) the top notch in the Bible belt. Nevertheless, pornography--good, bad, ugly, tasteless, or however you want to categorize it, is very much a part of the American fabric. This young, but talented reporter decided to write about it. While harsh words of criticism are par for the course and most writers learn to accept it, I think Alyssa deserves to hear that she did an awesome job--even it is just from one of her co-workers.

In Alyssa's Words:
King of Porn

Bugging Out in the ‘Burbs



Not so gently into that good night do the woods and creatures who inhabit them go. Well, they go, because the bulldozer leaves them no choice. But the aftermath of their unceremonious evictions and in some cases, their death, causes reverberations felt by the funky Homosapiens who should know better than to allow this to crap happen.

In 2002, over 70% of the green space in “the unnamed county 30 miles east of Alabama” was cleared for development (commercial and residential). 70%. Now, that may not seem like a lot, but it sure has made an impact on Bambi and ‘em. Incidents involving deer have risen tremendously. I, myself, have had to hit the brakes quite a few times to avoid hitting the ones wandering on Rose Ave. on foggy spring mornings. Said mornings, in the natural scheme of things is when these deer would be out mackin’ because it is their mating season; instead, they are house hunting.

Other animals are just plain pissed. Fox attacks on humans were visibly higher in 2004. With no where to go, these half-feline, half-dog creatures are striking back. And where indeed, are they supposed to go? Should they pitch a tent in the Outdoor section at Super Wal-mart on Hwy. 5?

The wildlife inhabitants of the county are being forced out for more shopping centers, homes that cost an astronomical amount of money and people who really don’t give a rat’s tail about what all this building is doing to the environment.

When territory that God beautifully created and should be left “untouched,” is constantly being invaded, it causes major problems with ants, crickets, frogs, snakes (yes), lizards, spiders, lady bugs (ugh, they leave such a nasty red stain when you smush them), and termites.

The infestation of termites and the fight to keep them out of our home intrigues me, especially with regards to a new subdivision. Heck, the termite is only doing what we have started and continue to do: eat away at stuff and destroy creations of beauty.

Still, we spend hundreds of dollars to get rid of these bugs, slugs and whatnot because we feel they are invading our turf. But hey, weren’t they here in the woods not bothering anyone when we came along and built several houses on top of their houses?

So how can we get upset when there is a new ant trail running through the living room? Or frogs keep hanging around the patio door? Or, if every morning we catch Bambi nibbling on the peach tree we planted in the backyard? If R. Kelly is sitting at home, watching television, and without warning, someone kicks his door in, tears his house down and builds a daycare center in its place, can we blame him if he begins lurking around said daycare center with a video camera…?

Sign O' the Times...

It is so scary to think about the fact that there are very little activities or simple functions in life that do not require one to "sign in." Unfortunately, there is so little trust. And rightly so. One slip, blink or pause, and someone has stolen your identity or snatched some cash from your bank account. Your word is no longer your bond. You must VERIFY who you are.

The most extreme measures of security occur at the work place. Whether subtle or the straight-up requirement for DNA and blood sample prior to carrying out daily work responsibilities, the lack of trust is undeniable. To get on your computer, to check your voice mail, to get into the building, to enter your work time card--all of these functions require a username and password.

It is the password that bothers me the most. With so many to keep up with, I can never remember them. Experts (Clark Howard 'n em) always advise not to use the same one. "Try to mix it up." "Use a variation of numbers or letters." Well, there are only so many variations one can remember. I once worked for a company whose computer automatically requires users to change their passwords every 90 days. Moreover, if you try to use the same password within a six month period, the system rejects it.

Even doing a little research for a column I was writing required that I "register, setup a usersname and password." For pete's sake! But said requirement is simply a part of the Big Brother conspiracy; that issue requires a whole other blog and one I am not sure I want to write. But I digress. It is frustrating to have all of this knowledge at my fingertips but to have to jump through hoops to gain access to it.



Even more frustrating is the two ID requirement for deposits at my credit union. How twisted is that? I have to prove who I am beyond a shadow of a doubt to put my money in my account.

My consolation in dealing with all this madness is that there will be no passwords or usernames in Heaven.



In Other Words...
Those Nine Little Digits

Appearances and (Our) Perceptions

Was at my Grandparents’ place over the holidays. Every time one of us (2nd, 3rd and even the 4th generation) pays a visit, we cannot help but complain about the massive amounts of “non-useful” things cluttering the house. My Grandmother probably has close to 30 pots and pans; yet, it has been 40 years since the last child moved out. The stove that was replaced recently is on the back porch; it is not quite 10 years old, and my Grandmother does not want “anybody” to have it. You see, the computer chip in said item is busted ($300 to replace), causing the oven not to function; still, the top of the stove itself is in perfect working condition. To people of my Grandparents’ generation, it would be a waste to throw it out; save it for someone who “might be able to use it.” To someone like me, who is trying to rid their life of junk, the fact that a broken stove was taking up space when it should be in the trash, could have, if I would have allowed it, driven me nuts. But I digress.



Then there are the giant-sized tins in the cupboard. I had not really noticed them before, but now they stood out like a sore thumb. They have been there forever and are all rusted over. There used to be a design or drawings on them, but they have long faded away. “What possible use could one have for these things?,” I wondered. On the second day of our visit, I inquired where the grits was stored. “Look in the tins,” was the reply I received. “Those rusted out things under the sink?,” I thought quietly. Sure enough, inside of the tins were four or five fresh, unopened bags of grits. Amongst all the junk, here was food at the ready. I took the liberty of going through the other tins: rice, canned preservatives, sugar, flour and other items that would come in handy if flood, hurricane, unnatural disaster, etc. were to strike.

My Mother later informed me that these tins are at least 45 to 50 years old. The junk cluttering my Grandparents’ house aside, I thought about how I was so quick to dismiss the tins because they were “old and rusted.” How many times do we, in general, look at something, or someone for that matter, and dismiss them because of appearance?

“Oooh, girl! You going out with him? He has a really good job and knows how to treat a lady, but he is not the most attractive man…”
“These boots are warm and comfortable, but they don’t do anything for my wardrobe.”

There is no stand-out lesson to be learned or anything here. Just something that will probably cross my mind if ever I am in the market to buy a home and I encounter one that is sensible, reasonable, in a near-perfect neighborhood and is bright orange with neon green Berber carpet.