young, white suburbanite (from “The Village”)

on any given friday night,

a young white suburbanite,

cruises in his beamer,

into the city, bose blastin’ fiddy.

he sports the latest, greatest, hippest, dopest, phattest rags

that his daddy’s silver spoon could buy,

but that silver spoon is the very reason why.

he protests the riches that they don’t deserve,

lashes out at his very own private federal reserve.

*

he’s looking for some black flava,

or some brown suga’,

or some white powder,

music getting louder.

young white suburbanite,

in the middle of the night,

loses himself in another man’s culture.

not understanding the subtleties of cp time,

he hits the club way too soon,

stands around with beer in hand,

realizes that the night was not so well-planned.

but he’s fly and hip and dope and –

and thinks he’s ahead of his time,

but the reality is that he simply

got there way ahead of time.

*

the music swirls within his head,

and the sistas think it’s so dred

that he’s holding his own,

while out of his element.

but to his detriment,

the beer pulls him to the dancefloor.

now, whitebread ain’t so fly no more.

and we think “ooh, that’s gotta hurt!”

beer has him moving to the beats,

the sight has us fallin’ out our seats.

*
“yo – young white suburbanite!

some fly sista would like ta get witcha”,

but homeboy’s homeboy has had

one too many rollin’ rocks.

young white suburbanite

struggles with all his might

to get his homeboy standing upright.

now, homeboy’s homeboy wants to fight.

young white suburbanite

came to the city,

blastin’ fiddy,

lookin’ for some black flava,

or some brown suga’,

or some white powder.

*

whitebread

got that gangsta beat going ‘round in his head.

cruisin’ in his jet-black beamer.

he’s just trying to understand

why we always catch it from the man.

tries to understand what that’s like,

he beats a path to every open mike,

struggles to get a feel for what it’s like.

a fruitless pursuit and he can’t see why

he can never feel the pain like you and i.

he innocently protests and lets out a sigh -

“it wasn’t me and i refuse to carry that lie”.

it’s neither out of compassion,

nor because it’s popular fashion,

but, instead, because the guilt of the fathers

prey upon the innocence of the sons.

*

on any given friday night,

deep within the urban blight,

from dusk until daylight.

lookin’ for some

black flava,

brown suga’,

white powder.

out of the gloomy mist and into the light,

comes an urban legend . . . a young white suburbanite.

*

copyright  2008  blackstarr

*

freerealm@gmail.com

*

(photos were obtained from across the internet.  if they belong to you and you wish them to be taken down, i will gladly comply)

Who do YOU know?

Big ups to my daughter for helping to plunge me back into the world of blogging.  Although I haven’t blogged lately, I always have something on my mind that needs to be said.  I have to thank my daughter because of a conversation that we recently shared.  I was trying to relay my extreme disappointment and total disgust at the idea that The NAACP has nominated Tyler Perry for 19 Image Awards.  That’s not just one, not just a few, but 19.  Many.  Plural.  In my humble opinion, that is just downright preposterous.

To my dismay, my daughter surprised me with the answer “Why is that so annoying?  Many people find his plays and works to be a blessing to their lives.  They feel that it has helped them to ‘make it through’”.  What??  Are you kidding me?  Tyler Perry says that.  Mainstream media says that.  I say that most artists who toots their owns horns cannot be taken very seriously.  We all know how the media has a knack for presenting information in a more than distorted slant.  So, I posed a question to her:  Who do YOU know that feels that way?  We danced around that idea for a minute or two, and by the end of the conversation, that question had never been answered.

As true as I am to my own ideals, I like to think that I am not so closed-minded that I cannot fathom that there are those out there who simply adore Mr. Perry.  I don’t deny that.  However, the numbers that I have seen, which are few and far between, have always come from sources that I, for one, can’t believe.  I admit that I don’t have a ton of friends, but, I do have many.  I say with authority that none of them – I repeat – none of them – have anything favorable to say about Tyler Perry’s work.  Not one of them has said that his art has changed their lives.  Perhaps it’s just too true that “birds of a feather” really do stick together.  Along with them, I have seen his work and was dismayed, disgusted, and disappointed.  Herein lies the problem – I paid the price of satisfying my curiosity and no matter what I thought of the movie, DVD, or play, the money was spent and nothing on God’s green earth can get it back (not to mention the wasted moments that I will never regain).  In other words, curiosity caused me to support something that I didn’t like.  It’s the blue pill/red pill dilemma all over again, except that there is no blue pill to take back the horror that the red pill has exposed.

I liken the situation to a movie that I saw  years ago entitled “Mission To Mars”.  It was met with much anticipation.  I knew when the movie was being filmed.  I watched every commercial with bated breath.  I could barely wait for the movie to hit the theaters and was in line the day that the movie debuted.  I am an avid sci-fi nut(case), but it was one of the worst movies that I had ever seen.  EVER seen.  The movie, however, grossed over ninety (90) million dollars.  Basically, even though the film was pitiful, once the money has been paid, it’s all over.  This is, in my opinion, no different than what Perry defenders offer up – “But, he’s made millions!”.  Sure he has.  Can it be that, like on so many other occasions, people have satisfied their curiosity, only to find that it wasn’t worth the peek?  I say “It can happen”.

I’m not so sure that my thirst for an answer will ever be quenched.  Can so many people really like him like that?  Do so many people believe that his “art” has been such a blessing to their lives?  I doubt that those questions will ever be answered for me because those who hold the answers are those in whom I have absolutely no trust.  I wish that I could hear it from the masses.  More likely than not, however, when the votes are all in and the answer is a resounding “yes”, I will probably say “Consider the source”.

I will leave you with one last thought:  Meet The Browns.  Every time that commercial comes on, I get just a little bit nauseous.  That is buffoonery and coonery at it’s very best.  It saddens me so because too many Mantan Morelands, and Stepin Fetchits did what they had to do to get us recognized as artists, and we moved on to a day when African-Americans were seen in a better light.  This generation has embraced this new coonery with open arms.  I’m a baby-boomer in the finest sense of the term.  In the 60′s and 70′s I was about as radical as one could be.  I took every opportunity to take part in any demonstration that was for the betterment of mankind.  We, the baby-boomers, fought long and hard to get the “n” word and the “b” word removed from our conversations.  We ventured out into unknown, uncertain, off-the-beaten-path movies to dispel the notion that the only thing that African-Americans can do is jig.  As  The Field Negro says “The jigging must stop”.  This generations seems to be taking a step back saying “Oh, it’s not that bad”.  “To each his own” is an honorary credo, but there has to be limits.  Seriously, though – Meet The Browns???!!!  What kind of nonsense has Tyler Perry spawned?

The Tyler Perrys of the entertainment world will never cease to be.  Their knack for charming the masses is ever-present.  I can barely fathom the idea that the masses are so drawn to them in such a manner.  I choose to believe that it is merely a case of  ‘pay me first, then see if it’s worth it’.  Yeah – I said that I am not so ‘closed-minded’, but truth be told, like an ostrich with its head deeply buried beneath the ground, I will go down fighting believing that this man’s art is worthless.

So, I ask “Who do YOU know”?  Peace.

copyright 2011 blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!!!

 

copyright  2011  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

Photo from Premier-Marquees.co.uk

Cant C Me

There probably has not been a more loyal fan of Tupac Shakur than yours truly.  First, though, a few “despites” -

despite the fact that I hate the “N” word and the “B” word, and

despite the fact that I am not an advocate of either profanity or violence, and

despite the fact that I am anti-drug abuse, I have always been in awe of Tupac and his musical genius.

Perhaps the one song that makes him stand out from the crowd more than any other song is “Can’t C Me”., from the CD “All Eyez On Me”.  The entire song is the epitome of his musical genius, but, let’s forget the entire song – the opening verse is the ultimate in word manipulation and lyrical sculpting.  In the event that you aren’t familiar with the song, you can click >HERE<  for the lyrics.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although there are probably many depths to his genius, I believe that his greatest assets were threefold – lyrics, music, and the ability to spit words out as easily as you and I breathe air.  He had a peculiar penchant for re-using lyrics from previously recorded songs.  Other artists have done this before him, but the way in which he did it and the meaning that his re-used lyrics brought to the songs took on a life of its own.

I cited this song from his collection because it is my favorite rap song ever, but, his repertoire was seemingly endless when it came to great lyrics, music, and spitting.  A few that come to mind which, in my humble opinion, that come close to the greatness of “Can’t C Me” are “Hit “Em Up”, “Death Around The Corner” and he even did a few love songs that were worth mentioning, which included “Can You Get Away?”.

There you have it – my short and sweet tribute to Tupac.  You owe it to yourself to check out this song .  You can find it on Youtube, of course.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get it to load here.  In the event that you want to save time, here’s a link to the song from Playlist.com:  Can’t C Me.  Perhaps you’ll be as impressed I have been all these years.

Afeni, wherever you are, thank you.  Peace.

 

copyright  2010  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

Photos from The Huffington Post, and The Judiciary Report.

Merry Christmas 2010!!

 

copyright 2010 blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

Operation Scare

Here we go again.  My conspiracy theory tendencies had taken a back seat for quite some time.  By that I mean that I haven’t been seen on any street corners, perched upon a soapbox and warning the people of what awaits us at the next turn.  OK – not lately, anyway.  Make no mistake – I may be quiet, but the wheels are always turning.  No matter how I try to supress the urge to educate the people, it always seems to creep up on me and attack at the least expected moment.

I was listening-but-not-listening to the news just a few moments ago and I heard a story about AMTRAK and Homeland Security launching OPERATION RAILSAFE. It is touted as a plan to secure the rail corridors . . . complete with random security checks of customers and their baggage.  It started a few days ago with the announcement that it is not entirely safe for Americans to travel abroad at the moment.  The powers that be claim that terrorists have targeted certain high profile tourist attractions (particularly those that attract Americans) and said that although this is not a call for a halt to travel abroad, it is advised that extreme care be taken.

This is typical of a right winged, hawkish entity pushing their never-ending agenda to have the government take control of our lives.  I’m not outraged – it’s what they do.  What bothers me is that they pass laws such as The Patriot Act and initiate agencies such as Homeland Security with the public saying “Bring it on.  We need more security”.  The public becomes a willing pawn by being scared to death.  To further kick up my dander, the reporters stopped passersby at the train stations and asked how they felt.  Of those they showed, their answers all had the same pathetic feel:  “It makes me feel so much safer”. Wake up, people.

There is always a cry for increased security and it is always proceeded by some catastrophic event (or threat of the same): suspected terrorists arrested or explosives found in a foreigner’s home  (yes – by “foreigner”, I mean of Arab decent).   There’s even a new one in Washington. D.C. And I am saddened to say that these “tricks” works every time.  Citizens blindly give up their basic civil rights for what is perceived to be better protection from evil, when in reality, they are simply relinquishing their freedoms.

In an election year when right-wing politicians are desperately trying to unseat  their foes or fill seats that have been vacated, it is important that we look a bit closer at the things that candidates are saying rather than cower in fear that we will be destroyed if we do not relinquish our rights.  Our rights are much more important than some “perceived” threats that are thrown our way.  While it is important to maintain some level of safety and security in our nation, it is also important to remember what the forefathers of this nation fought for to begin with.

Wake up, people.  Please.

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

copyright  2010  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

the face of certain death (part 3 of 8 from “A Tincture Of Tellurium”

Starkly recognizable,

the face of certain death appeared.

It was toxic, poison,

and, there loomed a hint of evil.

But, she was the quintessential Aphrodite,

in possession of an intrinsic eroticism.

She was the one.

At long last, she had shown herself.

Her eyes were piercing, and, as black as coal,

and, i was prepared to relinquish my very soul.

Her eminence was immeasurable.

Before me, stood the eidolon,

that dream of perfection found.

Her legs seemed to tower to an unimaginable height.

Her breasts were impeccably voluptuous,

and, the splendor that radiated from her face

was heretofore unequaled.

The great Nefertiti would have conceded

her throne of sublime elegance

in the company of such rare beauty.

 

Yet, at the same time, I peered into the face of certain death.

I gazed upon that toxic beauty,

and, was immediately aware of the evil that lived within.

But, to taste of that poison, to be consumed by that evil,

I would have wallowed in that death as if it were but sweet repose.

Though possessed with that new-found mission,

I would live to see the blossom of a new day.

The cup from which I would gladly have sipped,

even in the knowledge of its fatal eventuality,

had escaped my grasp.

As if by some magic,

as if by some mystical power,

in an instant  .  .  .  she vanished.

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

copyright  1997  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com