Mexico made a drug bust of 134 tons of marijuana with an estimated street value of roughly $340 million USD and their bright idea was to… burn it. ::sigh::

Mexico. MEXICO!! Ugh, go sit in the corner ’til you learn some foresight.

If you don’t see the problem with this, let me break it down. Mexico gained something worth $340 million and burned it. Sooo Mexico essentially just burned $340 million. Clearly they must be balling since they don’t need what equates to 4.2 billion pesos. Calderon must be in the club making it rain with Arab money while icing. Stunting so hard we should go indict them. They think they’re Big Meech, Larry Hoover, Burning Work… (screeeech) Fail!

AfroThought presents a special edition of “Tell ‘em Why You Mad“:

Lessons From a Super Power…

From here we will explore options Mexico could have taken to not only make better use of this 134 TONS of MARIJUANA but also increase their status internationally.

Option I: Show it!
Announce to your citizens only that you have made a huge drug bust to maybe curb crime by letting them know you actually care about marijuana use and will arrest them. However, don’t intentionally tell the world because then you let the world know just how huge the organized crime is in your nation. I mean 135 tons?! And that’s just your bust. Imagine how much is actually in circulation into and out from your borders. The story will break regardless though, so just try to spin it positively and promote tourism and trade.

Option II: Sell it!! (Secretly of course.)
We know you will do Option I but now that you have it, what do you do with it? Well, this is up to $340 million dollars you stand to gain thanks to organized crime. Not only did you catch a handful of drug traffickers, you made money in the process; approximately 4.2 billion pesos, which I’m sure could be a nice slice into any non-superpower’s account balance.

Option II: Section A
Sell it, albeit covertly to the U.S. marijuana companies. I mean all the production costs for this haul were paid by the drug lords, so now it just needs to be sold. The U.S. companies were going to sell marijuana anyway. Might as well let them inspect it and place bids on it. Again, it’s product that they didn’t have to grow and possibly of higher quality than their current stock. Granted you would work out some agreement with the U.S. government for a cut of the profits. All of this under the table, of course.

Option II: Section B
Sell the haul back to the cartels. Some might be gullible (or high) enough to attempt to buy it back from you. Arrest them. Dumb*sses.

Option II: Section C
Use your best narcotics insiders to sell the drugs back into circulation. That is roughly 4.2 billion pesos ($340 million) that your government could use. You make street value on it while building up enough evidence/capital to eventually launch a huge sting operation and possibly catch the drug lords making this weed and not a handful of product because 134 tons is only approximately 5% of what you catch annually and again that’s only what you catch. So then not only did you make a historic drug bust but then you worked that into substantial drug arrests.

Option III: Flip it
C’mon now, Mexico. Of all the ways to dispose of 134 tons of marijuana… burning?! Really? Aside from the environmental impact, did you not realize the irony?

Apparently weeds make good mulch. Gardeners love mulch.

Maybe you could make a sort of feed for beneficial insects (e.g., silk worms) or other things we don’t eat.

Bury it in unused land whose water table won’t affect the population. Also, arrest anyone who comes and tries to dig it up. Dumb*sses.

IF YOU MUST BURN IT:
Supposedly you can make a high-octane gas out of it.
Or you could have used it as fire fuel in places that we use flames as a power source anyway. There are plenty of places where fire is useful. You couldn’t make small enough quantities to be burned legitimately by various users? Any feelings of levity resulting from said fire would be dismissed as purely coincidental.

Sources:
Mexico makes huge drug bust
What does 134 tons of marijuana on fire look like?
Adios to Mexico’s marijuana haul

DISCLAIMER: Clearly this is particular to my experience and I don’t mean everybody. But I’m in the heat of the moment and I want to generalize. Besides, if majority rules…

I am officially disappointed in everyone. People really suck, and no, I’m not jaded. People just never make sense. I’m so angry about this, because I see the logic in each situation. I am a reasonable person. I have a good grasp on reality. When I screw up, I’ll say so; and when people screw up, I’ll say that too. And when people just fail, it continues to disappoint me and makes me realize more and more how much people… well… suck.

I feel like I’m saying, “Hey look over here, I’m awesome. Sometimes a little goofy… but overall awesome, wanna go out??” And everyone who is single is like “Hmmmmm. Nah, not right now…” or “Umm, I’d rather settle.” I mean, really? You’re gonna settle? I’m giving you the choice of a big juicy steak (or whatever your favorite meal is) or just a pickle and in your dumbassery you say “Umm, I’ll take the pickle.” REALLY? Ol’ settling ass!! Anyway, now that I’ve told you how people suck, how about I paint a completely hypothetical picture for you?

Tell ‘em Why You Mad
So… boy likes girl when she is not ready, and when girl wants boy, boy says ‘I’m not ready.’ Hmmm, is this a game? Did I forget to bring my mitt to this boring game of toss the interest? I mean, clearly people like to play games.
Why would you try your hardest to convince someone to be with you, when they have just told you they were not ready? Maybe they are ‘damaged’ from their previous relationship? Maybe they’ll tell you that they need some time. Maybe when the time comes, you’re like “Well, no I don’t want to try…” Hold up. Okay, you wanted to try when the person wasn’t trying; and now that they are trying, you don’t want to try? You = stupid, dumdum, goofy ass, just overall incompetent. Yes that is you, and yes, you fail at life.

I honestly believe that you can’t be nice to people and you can’t make anything easy for them BECAUSE THEY ARE STUPID!!!!! I’ve gotten so much farther being a bitch, rather than being the fun-loving, caring, awesomesity that is me. (Not conceited, just giving myself some props). Even still, the most annoying part of this completely hypothetical situation is that a small part of me was questioning, “Do I really want to date this person? Do I really want to try?” He is awesome, but now he has totally proven that he is just part of the goofy-ass herd that is walking away from the water. Really? WOW! I mean, I can only do so much. I’ve basically prepared this great meal, filled up your fork, placed it in your mouth and your stupid confused insecure ass won’t chew!! I officially dislike you strongly. Basically, I’m off you. I’m off every damn thing!! Excuse my language.

So this situation leads me to the place where I am now, confused. I’m just not gonna try; ‘cause when you don’t try, you don’t get hurt or disappointed. I mean, I went a whole year not trying and I had a blast! Now I’m trying and it is lame, I mean really lame.

Relationships are supposed to be fun, but this sucks. What sucks even more is that I seem to connect better with guys who are IN RELATIONSHIPS. Really? It’s like, “Hey! I’m awesome and you’re awesome and…. oooh wait, you have a girlfriend. Oooh and you’ve been dating for 2 yrs. Oooh and your moving in together in August. How flipping lovely! (Damn you and your happy ass girlfriend! I hate you.)

I’ve tried to analyze this conundrum I seem to have found myself in, done some soul searching, talked to friends and these guys in relationships and wonder… is it me?? Am I doing something wrong? Is there something I am not realizing that I need to change?? The response is always the same, “Oooh just wait, when the time is right it will happen” or “You’re awesome and if people don’t realize this, then they are stupid.” I hate that! I love you, friends, but stop telling me how great I am and how everyone else is stupid. I mean, are people really that stupid? Am I really that great that I’m still single? I’m not in a super rush to be “in a relationship”; I just want to hang out with ONE PERSON who make sense.

I mean COME ON!! I’m just so fed up with everyone. I have officially decided not to try. I am going to just go to school, work, and play and if anyone can keep up, I’ll rock their world! Until then I’ll be in my own.

What are YOU looking at?!

You have twenty-six minutes left to get to your destination and, of course, there is traffic. One accident you accounted for, no problem. That second accident less than a mile up the same stretch of road, however, is the perfect situational “screw you”  requisite for reassessing your good deeds over the last week. As you near the flashing lights you discover the bane of many motorist’s life; the accident isn’t even on your side of the road. On top of that, there is a barrier between your side and that side. Meaning at 75mph you still present no threat to the parties in said accident save maybe a strong gust of wind and one of the coolest effects in the aural realm (eeeeyyurrrrmmm). Keep it moving!

Why do people feel the need to slow down for an accident on the opposite side of the road? I see this and think: “This doesn’t involve you. What are you doing?! You going to hop out and help?! No? Then keep it moving. Of all the people in this city, do you really think you might know them? Go! You really that bored in life?! Go!! Ugh, now, watch you get in an accident while being nosy. Move! I wouldn’t slow down for you either. Move!! Word? Is this how you get your jollies, watching others pain/misery/suffering? That’s messed up. You got issues, but what you don’t have is somewhere to be. Pedal, metal, make it happen!”

Seriously though, this isn’t the movies. There really is nothing to see. By now, we’ve all seen enough accidents to know that. The car is not going to explode. Panthro is not going to hop out and tear open a door. Nothing spectacular happens in car crashes. If you want some amazing crashes (again at others’ detriment) hit up YouTube. The one time I saw a car on fire it was kinda anticlimactic. The time I saw a car flipped upside down I didn’t drop below 50mph. Maybe if Michael Bay had been involved it would have been off-the-chain but as a freestanding mishap, not worth the lag.

This is all contrary to my default belief in driving; which is the few minutes that you spare doing daredevil tactics to get to your final destination aren’t worth possibly getting to your final destination.

Let’s smarten up out there. Shoot, let’s smarten up in general.

At some Wal-Mart in Washington Township, New Jersey, a male voice announces over the PA system that “all Black people leave the store now.”
Source:
Black people must leave, NJ Walmart announcer says
Wal-Mart NJ: “All black people leave the store now”

The following were comments in response to the story.

One person responds:

Black people are so sensitive. It was probably a prank by some 16 year old kid that ran from his mom while shopping in Walmart….We all know (including black people) that if the announcement had been “All white people leave the store now” this story would not have even made local news.

Another person responds:

Are you “F”ing serious? Black people are so sensitive, really? I am white and I am offended by you and half the **** I am reading on here. It is your ignorance that allows racism to keep on. Take a look back in history, why should white people care if there was an announcement that asked them to leave? White people are so sensitive.
I am white and I am married to a black man and we have 2 kids together. We have been pulled over for no reason, we have had people leave a restraunt or move to a different part amongst other things. So please don’t say stupid **** like black people are so sensitive, especially when you have racist muther****ers out there who don’t like someone because of the color of their skin…..talk about sensitive.

Then another person responds:

Yeah, dial 9 and it's over the whole store...

no……they really are sensitive. i dont have a problem with black people in general but the ones who act like thugs and parade around with their pants below their ass are the ones i dislike, and for that matter thats anybody who acts like a thug not just african americans. a black comedian could talk all day about white people but the instant a white man stood up and said something derogatory toward a black man it would be all over the news and the guys entire career would be gone, this is true and you know it.

Tell ‘em Why You Mad
So I responded:

I agree I dislike people who ‘act’ like thugs and pity the people (all races) who simply don’t know any better.

But i disagree that Black people are too sensitive. In fact, I’ve become so used to women clutching their purses; being watched in stores (even when I’m in a suit); police doing blatant maneuvers (sometimes dangerous to other citizens) to follow me; people thinking racism died in the Civil Rights Act (or with Obama) and thus saying dumb things; and the proliferation of the N-word (both hatefully and from ignorance) that I shrug off 9/10 offenses. At the same time, that apathy is far more dangerous. Trust me, no one has enough energy to simply say “not cool” to all the ignorance minorities face. Is it my responsibility to educate them if I find them ignorant? It’s not my fault they are ignorant. In fact, I wasn’t even going to respond to this, but I just happened to have the time and energy. That said, I have to get back to work.

Besides, this incident is not news, this happens everyday. Look at the name-calling to Rep. Barney Frank and Rep. John Lewis. There’s that apathy again.

P.S.: Under the right intentions it could have been funny… very funny, but in this case it’s not.

EDITORIAL

So really I guess this is more of “Tell ‘em Why You… aren’t Mad?! Wait, WTF?! Why Aren’t You Mad?!” truncated to “I Ain’t Mad at Ya”.

Responder 1: Was actually right, supposedly it was a 16-year old being stupid. Also true that there probably would be no story with “All white people leave.” White folks wait until something happens (though that’s often too late).
However, “All White people leave” could have made the news, alright. Throw in the word ‘terror’ and boom 3-day filler story. Threat Level: Yellow. “Random” airport searches.
“All Black people leave” is Threat Level: Red.

Responder 2: Uhhh… right on?

Responder 3: Well, yeah, but (depending on what he said) that’s justified. He knows what country he’s in. He knows his career risk. Freedom of speech all you want, but you should be responsible. Besides, if you’re funny it will slide, else you gambled and lost. Take it like an adult.

Regarding my response: Going forward I may expend slightly more energy and take a second to tell someone “yeah, that’s ignorant” but I dread having to walk them through their rude awakening. I mean, if I don’t say anything there is a limit to how upset I can reasonably be seeing that I am an accomplice to their ignorance. At the same time, I could just say “not cool” then leave them to find out why. Just because I show them that they don’t know, doesn’t mean I have to teach them, right? That’s their homework.

A couple of related things that do ‘get me mad’ are the times people act like Black people have had centuries to catch up in terms of socio-economic status. Really? I’d say we’re doing amazingly for half a generation’s time. Also, the “N-word”, I have a hate-like-hate relationship with it to be explained in another post. So stay tuned.

::sigh::

You can do better. I was trying to think of a more gentle way to say it but I don’t have to, I’m not your man. Granted, enough time has passed that I am in no way upset that you are seeing someone new (nor is it my place to be so). Honestly, I’m just happy that you aren’t dwelling on the past. It’s not good for you. But then again, neither is your new dude.
Oh, I know he seems good for you, but that’s because he’s safe. As in, were he one of the last five available men on Earth, then yes snatch him up. But I’d be willing to bet that you didn’t snatch or approach him at all. I imagine he noticed you, just happened to say the right thing at the right time and before you knew it… you two were dating. If so, he is lucky to be with you, ’cause… well… you can do better.

Personally, I’m a little offended. See, people tend to date those around the same level of attractiveness as themselves. Thus me being your ex and you dating this dude now is like saying he and I are on the same level (transitive property). And I’ll be d*mned if I get grouped in with him. (Ahem, he “could never-ever, ever-ever, ever-ever…“) I’m not just talking about appearance. In fact, I’m not even sure how offended I should be. I’m not good friends with the guy but from what you’ve told me about him and what I’ve seen, that’s messed up of you. What did I ever do to you? Actually, don’t answer that.

As I said before, it’s not really my place to care about who you date. Besides, knowing you, I doubt I have any sway over your decisions anyway. But (believe it or not) I still care about you. I seriously want you to be happy and want the best for you. I mean, clearly the ‘best’ for you isn’t me but it for D*MN sure ain’t him.
Allow me to explain that. See, I want to meet your new dude and be jealous. I want to hate his guts. I want to wish all the bad things in life happen to him and only him. Why? Because I would know there is no way I could compete or win your heart back from a man like that. You would be completely enraptured with him. You know, a soul mate or at least real close. All of my positives aside, I’m an asshole. We know this, but if at the end of the day you still entertain the idea of being in my arms then you’re f*ckin’ up and unfortunately not literally.

Shoot, I’m tempted to try to steal you back from the new dude just to prove a point, but that would be evil. And though I’m no angel, I don’t have the energy to deal with that drama right now. So instead just think about what I said. I’d sincerely hate for you to miss your Mr. Right because you were stuck with the third runner-up there (in theory, I’m at least second). Even more so, you know I never stay single for long and I promise you that you will walk away from meeting my girl thinking “I hate that b*tch!” Trust me. I don’t mess around… well… you know what I mean.

Anyway, next time you’re with ole buddy just ask yourself, “can I do better?” You know I know those doubtful moments are coming anyhow. Really, I don’t mean this to come off as bashing him. I’m sure he’s a great guy and will make someone very happy one day, but in your case, dating him just plain isn’t doing yourself justice. You know good and well how great you are. Yes, I am admitting it. So why step down? If you are going to make a mistake like that then you might as well pick the lesser of evils and be with me, again. And we both know that won’t happen ’cause…

…exactly.

“Don’t front. You know you loooove it.” Not quite, homey.

As if soul wasn’t already an underground genre, now Musiq is trying “Radio”. I expected this one day, but thought there would be a few more singles signaling the inevitable end between then and now. Nope, Musiq dove head first into the mainstream. Can he swim though?

Now, I’d like to excuse this faux pas as a one off error but “Radio” is like strike three for this cat. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to put his sound in a box. Quite the contrary, I’m all for artistic freedom. Besides no one wants to hear reworkings of the same song for three albums (unless it’s a really smooth song, e.g., Kem). On the other hand, people will accept multiple artists doing the same song repeatedly and even accept listening to hours of these Goldberg variations on the radio. As long as it’s meant to be a “new joint” then folks don’t care. I could rework a Rick Ross or Usher tune tomorrow and no one would really mind. All I have to do is stay inside the “formula” and I’m set. [I'm not going to define the "formula" here. Eventually I will. You've heard it, though. You may even love it. Why should I ruin that for you?] Unfortunately for those artists compromising their substance to pursue said formula, the range of things acceptable in the formula is becoming more and more narrow. Even the time limit has dropped from 4mins to 3mins-and-change (go ahead, time your latest radio hits).

But I digress, if a Jill Scott or Erykah Badu wants to switch it up to keep themselves (and maybe their fans) entertained then do ya thang, booboo. But, you have to stay authentic to yourself. If you don’t do that then that track better be the jam, because everyone will know your faking it and it’ll be a while before they forget/forgive. Happens all the time in pop music because they are already at the mercy of the public. It’s a scenario similar to a jester that has to guess what best entertains the king/queen or lose his spot in their castle or worse, face execution. Not like he could get up there and speak his mind, no matter how funny. That acquiesce to chase the mold (rather than sculpt it) is what makes you mainstream, ironically for Musiq the mainstream is the most defined/confining box. You hopped in the stream, now you have to follow the bends/trends or be washed out.

Tell ‘em why you mad…

The atmosphere has almost reached the point that trying to make actual music is officially like putting a contract out on yourself. Not the literal definition of music which is the purposeful organization of sound, but rather the artistic definition including a theorized form with A,B,C even D sections, an inspired melody, and meaningful lyrics hopefully expressing some observation – easier than it sounds. Sure, that uncompromising artist may get a Grammy nod, and if the people who blindly buy whatever the Grammy’s nominate notice them then he/she might survive long enough to build a lasting legacy, but more-likely-than-not they either fade away or bend over for that rape-over.

Now it’s not like we didn’t see this coming. Musiq Soulchild has been walking that thin line for a while now. Remember when he dropped the “Soulchild”. Remember “Buddy”. But it’s been a while since a video made me shake my head as much as MC Hammer’s “Pumps and a Bump”. First thought, was “haha, that’s hilarious… right?” As I realized Musiq wasn’t joking, I started to hope no one else saw/heard “Radio” but then I simply began to mourn the loss. Musiq defected. I mean he’s had all this time that Maxwell and D’Angelo were MIA to helm the movement and really cement his standing, but he left that to Dwele and Raheem DeVaughn (both of whom followed his line more than D’s or Maxwell’s – hence why folks know them… as opposed to Bilal, Van Hunt or Esperanza).

If you are puzzled then you might not have realized there is somewhat of a war going on between the mainstream and the underground (more so those who use the formula and those gifted souls rebelling against it). Clearly the mainstream is winning but that’s because the industry is the foremost sponsor of the formula (and soon the 80s baby anti-formula). Sporadically, the Rebel Alliance has a star rise up and steal some spotlight, but then the minions of the Empire clamor to work with that artists until a string of underwhelming collaborations mar the respect we had for them. Understandably though, mainstream acts crave that “new & creative” credibility and the result is best described using terms like vampires and new blood. Maybe that’s why we hear so much about cats biting. Following the seduction to the dark side, that “best new artist” is merely forgotten collateral damage of the stream, most likely to be immortalized on a late night infomercial compilation.

Soulution…

For my fellow musicians out there struggling between the fame/fortune and creativity/integrity, realize that they aren’t mutually exclusive. I mean it’s perfectly possible to be a respected mainstream artist. About a good third of folks will assume you are overrated but you can live with that. I mean, you wanted some attention, right? Best case scenario, you capture that Norah Jones audience (essentially the Grammy audience) who are great because they really don’t care what you do so long as they can wrap their head around it. Also, you don’t have to do half the work a Chris Brown does to keep your audience entertained. Look at John Legend. He was quick to don that Black Tony Bennett vibe on his second album and capture a whole new crop of jitterbuggers. We’ll call them the “mutually-funded”. And they buy albums (not too keen on computers/downloading yet). So why not have ‘the man’ patron your Black-owned business with all that disposable income? Sounds smart to me. Makes almost too much sense, maybe that’s why folks don’t do it. Of course, this is in the case that you don’t need to stay true to some self-defined idea of yourself and your art. Point is… J Am Legend, Corinne Bailey Rae, hell even Queen Latifah are banking right now while the rest of the field is wondering how they can best emulate T-Wayne.

Now, provided you don’t want to show up to the VMAs on an elephant wearing a chain with your moniker on it, nor want to stare into a sea of faces that don’t really understand your message whilst crooning on The Today Show, then you could pull a Batman. Meaning, up front be the artist you want to be but on the side cop a pseudonym and crank out all the “heaters/fire/hotness/blazing tracks” with which you never wanted to be associated. For instance, Musiq easily could have passed “Radio” on to someone who needs it’s small bump (e.g. Trey Songz) and sat back and let them do all the work for the attention/money then bring him his cut. “Ho’ hard and bring it home to us, f#cka!” Maybe he’s pulling a Tweet and has this one mainstream joint on an otherwise very soulful album. We’ll see. Granted, for that trick, you would have to put out a home-run to bait the typical listeners into your album. Alas, the Soulchild didn’t do that. Instead, Musiq stepped up to the plate and tried with all his might for a smash hit.

Swing and a miss.

I let it pass because the story was on the raunchy side, but as she came back to take my credit card, well after I had concluded the story, she added “An education would help out that vocabulary, you should think about it”

I reverted to my usual sarcastic self and told her “I see it’s gotten you very far…now go ring my bill, cash my tip, and go buy yourself something nice.” A whack attempt at retribution in my semi-sober state. The woman began swearing violently at me, and I began to laugh and continue to egg her on. My friend pulls me aside and says to me,

“Take it easy, man. Calm down. You’re totally fulfilling the angry black man stereotype! You’re not making that any better right now, so chill out.” That’s not the first time I’ve been told something like that by one of my non-Black/African-American friends but I made sure it was the last time this particular one said it.

In retrospect, I don’t condone my behavior. As a matter of fact, I usually stray from a senseless war of words, but this time my anger got the best of me. But sometimes you don’t realize that you’re non-black friends are not black until they say dumb shit like this. On the surface, there’s not much dumb about the statement, my friend just didn’t want me looking stupid in public, but there is a lot going on in those 3 or 4 sentences. I refuse to live my life always wary of accidentally or intentionally fulfilling the “angry black man” stereotype. Damn, can’t I be mad? Last time I checked, I was a human with human emotions and human feelings. So why is it that me being angry fulfills the black stereotype we call the A.B.M. (Angry Black Man)?

It shouldn’t shock my friend (or anyone else) that at some point in time I will be angry, black, and a man simultaneously. The likelihood of that happening is actually kind of high and because there is no time in which I’m not a black man. “Take it easy, man. Calm down. You’re totally fulfilling the angry black man stereotype! ” So I guess that apparently means I’m not allowed to get angry. Fuck that.

Discuss….

In case you haven’t heard the clip before, here it is:

Dark skin is a flesh to wear with honor. Lets not forget that dark skin is the mother to the human race. Dark skinned slaves torn from their homeland were the ones that set the tone emotionally, mentally and spiritually for the strength we maintain as a people. To deny their beauty is to deny their worth and ultimately yourself. Black people have long had this mess between the races about dark versus light, red-bone versus Nubian queen. Yes, we come in all shapes, sizes and skin tones, but we all hail from the same branch originally rooted in the motherland.

An individual sounds so belligerent and completely f**@king ignorant going on about a woman needing to look as beautiful coming out of a swimming pool as she did going in. The last time I checked men shrank when they came out of the pool and you don’t hear women going on and on about that! Will black folks ever get it together? Mocking your own people for public consumption continues to reiterate that we can never stand together as a people when all we’re doing is tearing one another down when we get the opportunity. Let’s not forget that a number of your listeners are not your complexion. A number going through the struggle of daily life don’t meet specific skin requirements and may have straight or kinky hair.

What if the beloved Harriet Tubman only chose to free dark skinned people like herself? Do Sidney Poitier’s numerous accomplishments hold less value because he isn’t as light as Harry Belafonte? People should think before opening their big yaps and take into regard what they are actually saying. Stick to singing about big butts and Cristal, you 4’9″ reject. Take into account the light skinned, long haired females that are on their knees for you are only bowing for the cash you’ve managed to bank. If the statements you’ve made are really true, then you were a lost soul before “Sexy Lady” and are indeed one after.

People like to say you know a real man when you see one. Truth is, you know a real man when he opens his mouth. You’re in desperate need of a history book and a fresh ass whooping with a leather belt.

Until next time, be a blessing to a stranger,

~ The Lioness

Gee whiz, Beave. How can I best backhand the rest of your people and slightly exclude you?! Maybe if I say “no offense”.

Growing up I remember using the huge box of crayons with the names you knew someone was overpaid to create (we’re looking at you “orange-yellow”). In that box, the one that always pissed me off was “Flesh”. Especially since my flesh wasn’t “flesh” colored. What were they trying to say? How self-centered do you have to be not to realize the ramifications of labeling one hue “flesh”; dangerous not just to yourself, but your company? Do you not consider how you may be offending inadvertently… oh… say… everyone else? Go find this crayon… if you are around that color, this sermon is for you. Why the “flesh” colored people? Because they are the main perpetrators of the non-compliment. I’m going to use the most recent example in my life but please recognize that “…this type of sh*t happens ev-ery-day!”

So i’m in line at my favorite mega-bookstore (sorry indie stores) and an elderly woman (elderly as in the big 7-0 is easily arms-length away for her) queues up with me and starts idle chatter about the usual (waiting in line, the weather, purchases). Personally, I don’t need to chat. In fact, I tend to wear my ‘slightly pissed off brotha’ face -that she clearly did not see- as added protection from chatty folk. Motion denied, so I break out my “representative”, as SOP (standard operating procedure) for such occasions. My “representative” is the same ‘version’ of myself who gets me through job interviews, social gatherings, and first dates. He’s really nothing like me; outgoing, personable, witty, slightly under the threshold of cheery that you can tolerate (as calculated by your demeanor), easily carries a conversation, and harbors more charisma than a good politician. No one but your die-hard curmudgeon dislikes my representative. That’s his purpose; stand in for me and deal with people. I don’t like people. I’ll sit back and supervise and correct any miscalculated statements.

So of course after two minutes of civility, Miss Daisy feels she can open up and tell me how she really feels. You know, those moments where the person leans in and says some bullsh*t in a slightly lowered voice. She precedes with the ill-fated compliment delivered loudly enough as if others were to turn and applaud. “My… you speak so well” she exclaims. “Heifer, you can suck my diction” I retort… in my mind (’cause they’d lynch me for that one). Again, Black SOP, I smile and accept the non-compliment politely. Too politely I guess, for she goes on to confide “so often I hear this… ‘slang’ going about. It’s so loud and everywhere”. She does that thing where people repeat the same idea a myriad of ways. I really was waiting on a “well, I never…” but it never came. I settled for her “even the boys and girls in my neighborhood use it these days.” Apparently, I was supposed to be appalled at the verbal corruption of the younger Bradys. I respond “Yeah, tell Wally and the Beave they can keep slang”… in my mind. But because i’m evil, I start to f*ck with her. Big store, long line, let’s have fun.

Assuming the role of crotchety old lady #2, I respond “Well, I simply can’t understand these kids nowadays. I always wonder how the parents let these things happen. Never speak like that in my house, I tell you what.” Essentially “Well, I never” arpeggiated over three sentences. Smitten with her new BFF she asks me if I went to school. I respond affirmatively. She asks if I graduated. “B!tch I have a degree!!”… in my mind. Though, I feel my brow shoot a “WTF?” which I quickly turn into a nod and “yes, ma’am”. Then she asks if I went to college. And next thing I know she’s on the floor and i’m standing over her wiping the pimpin’ off my left hand then slowly curling it into that Bruce Lee shaking fist. A distant voice exclaims “He’s the Juggernaut!!” And gasps erupt from the adjacent escalators…

…in my mind!!! I offer a non-threatening giggle and respond “Yes, ma’am.” She thinks my laugh is bashfulness, when in actuality it is more of a “Silly, racist. We’ve only had the last 40 years.” Remember, I am representing the exception to her views of my people, so I must surreptitiously make her feel guilty for being so ignorant and disprove her misconceptions while killing her with kindness. Why? Well, let’s break down the meaning in her questions.

AfroThought presents… “Tell ‘em why you mad, son!”

K, hold up. HOLD UP!!! She seriously asked me if I went to high school?! High school!! As in, mandatory in most states ’til at least age 16. Wow!! Really?! [In the subsequent paragraphs I could expound upon this egregious insult to the socio-economic status of my people in the analytical jargon fitting a scholar of my caliber and proper education but being aware of how the phrases/feeling falls far short of the requisite tone in comparison to the vernacular she so despised, I am compelled to evoke the proper emotion beginning with...] MUTHAFUCKA!!!

She legitimately wanted to know if I pursued education beyond the 8th grade. In fact, the questions themselves were slightly rhetorical, more so confirming her assumption. She was letting me know that I am different in her eyes. Correction, different in her eyes NOW. As in, she had a hunch that I -unlike the other brothers- thought it was in my best interest to go to high school, why? Because I speak so well. Her questions merely affirmed her assumption. The fact that I have a degree from one of the top universities in the nation, well that’s somewhat superfluous. That high school diploma though… that’s about all of the achievement she deems fitting to be a stand out among my people.

Wait, how do I even know she meant Black people? Oh right… she pointed me out as exceptional because I spoke so well as opposed to “… slang”. [Yes, she habitually paused before saying "slang" as if she was inventing a term each time.] Meaning upon sight she expected me to speak slang, but was taken aback at my command of the English language. Upon sight!! Despite the fact that I had on a collared shirt and khakis (’cause I have a job). No, I was worthy of her respect now because I spoke to her like a normal American. Correction, given the ever-increasing financial restrictions on public education, I spoke similarly to the slightly upper middle-class White America. The last time someone non-complimented me in such a manner I slapped them with my degree in language so polite that they actually complimented me again. Happens (with a degree).

Fleshy people, in telling me “how well” I speak, you admit your low perception/expectation of me (and thus those like me). It’s like saying you have a Black friend. Really? Only one eh? I’ll look for you come Kwanzaa. (Psst, I don’t know any Black folks that seriously celebrate Kwanzaa. It’s nice, but we have too much Kujichagulia for that.) If you really want to compliment me, then make the subject my character, up-bringing, or education. But don’t expect me to gush when you tell me I ‘speak well’. We all should. Besides, if I “speak so well” I probably “think so well” and therefore understand what you really mean.