"B to the E to the T...."
Okay, ya'll I am tired....
I like black,
I like entertainment,
and I even like television,
but somehow these put together has gone awry.....
I am so tired of the Barrage of Elicit Trash; Beaming Endlessly Through the television set.
Proclaiming rappers and Bare Empty Titillating models as heroes.
I am so tired of youth being Blinded at Every Turn, wool pulled over their eyes
While the wolf in sheep's clothing called BET draws them in
Hellfire is coming through the airwaves...
and day after day they Breathe Embers of Treachery
Don't you know our Babies Emulate This Trash!
Programming our youth to get those Bare Empty Trappings of unattainable riches by any means necessary.
Beautiful queens selling their souls for Bling, Excess, and Trinkets
Teaching our young men to Berate, Endanger, and Terrorize women
Portraying us as Bitches and Evil Thugs...
Yeah you and I should know better than to buy into it,
But yet we still sit and watch the BET awards,
And what is our reward as a people... Bondage, Entrapment, and Tears.......
This is a Brilliant Eradication Tactic that we are falling for hook line and sinker
Why not offer our youth Belief , Empowerment , and Truth
Instead of Broadcasting Egotistical Talentless pseudo-artists
Who Boldly Exclaim Tasteless and offensive lyrics from the rooftops,
And guess who is listening and paying to do it.......... Us!
Paying with our lives.....
BET or television for that matter, is not your Babysitter, Educator, or Therapist.....
It does more harm to us than the Bigots, Extremists, and Terrorists could ever do......
I need a new BET of thought:
Building, Edification, and Transformation
Brainstorming, Enlightening, and Training
Beauty, Energy, and Togetherness
Brigdebuilding, Equality, and Tolerance
So I am going to end my Bold Edgy Tirade with this:
Beware of the Enemy Taking over.....BET
~Naturally Alise - 2006~
Community colleges and trade schools will be free, because I need my blue collar workers certified and feeling good about themselves as they work to beautify and keep Shenandoah running.
Central prison will have hard labor. I have public buildings that will need renovating and upkeep and I know the perfect group of folks to do it. There would have to be extreme security measures with having criminals working on buildings and such, but where there’s a will there’s a way. I’ll figure it out, or pay some one else to figure it out for me.
I’d have commercial free business zones (idea borrowed from the Bay area), where only small business owners would be able to set up shop at affordable mortgages.
I’d have a condo swap program for those who buy condos and then want to upgrade or get something bigger.
Shenandoah would be a walking city, with parks and places designated for walking and bike riding. You could bike to work if you felt that froggy. Eco friendly public transit, gotta keep my city air clean. 24/7 gym facilities for the gym bunnies who just cant get enough.
Teachers, Police, and city workers would b paid what they are worth. They deserve it.
For the past couple seasons, Jon & Kate plus 8 have been my secret, dirty, pleasure. You see, I’m not a kid person. I don’t particularly care for them, am not friendly towards them, and will probably never have any (social services can rest easy now). But there was something about those kids that was soooo cute and endearing. They made me smile and feel good, and that’s rare when watching reality tv, or anything on tv.
So when the rumors hit the tabloids about Jon cheating, then Kate, I stopped watching. A little too much reality in my tv. I’ve been standing by the sidelines, hoping the crap would die down so I could focus on the kids learning how to ride bikes and grow into the productive citizens they will be one day. No such luck. And now last night’s episode, with all the tension and the misery, I had to keep flipping away and peaking back. This sh*t is making me miserable. All I can think about are the kids.
What about the kids?
Divorce is never easy, not for the parents, not for the children. But now the kids have a living memory, hours of film footage of their parents’ divorce forever burned on film to peruse when they're older and want to know what it was like. How many of us would like our break ups, divorces, or parents separation documented on film? And the kids seem so blissfully unaware, which I think is even worse. Have you ever been somewhere, maybe a party or social gathering, and had the time of your life, only to find out later that some janky crap was going on around you, involving you and you didn’t know? Changes that happy little memory completely didn’t it? I think what they are doing to the kids, having their break up filmed, is a form of abuse.
Yeah I’m thinking about the kids. This sucks!
So what would I say if they asked me my opinion? I’d say turn off the cameras and take care of home. For better or for worse, yada yada yada. I’m so anti divorce its ridiculous. It just doesn’t work for me. I mean, I don’t care what other folks do, but this kid aint getting divorce. When I get tied up, its for life, aint nobody getting out unless they die. point blank. Makes my mate selection process quite intricate too. But enough about me. I’m still pulling for ya Gosselins!
As you may have figured out by now, my blog partner Tiha is usually the cranky, cantankerous, crabby one (I love alliteration :) ), but today I am going to borrow her e-soapbox and shoulder chip for a moment. (Hope you don't mind). I wrote a post a while back about Sensitive Thugs in the workplace.
I used the following quote form the poet Jay-Z:
Look, I'm on my grind cousin, ain't got time for frontin'
Sensitive thugs, y'all all need hugs
Now I must expose another pseudo-thug lurking out there (no, not Luvvie). It is the ubiquitous e-thug. What is an e-thug? So glad you asked! An e-thug is a vile venomous Vaudevillian villainous vexing (i like alliteration, sorry again) self important clown that sashays all over the internet. This character is one of the following:
- A spineless creature that goes and posts angry comments on blogs anonymously. Mostly these are people that don't feel good about themselves or missed a couple-few hugs over their lifetime, so they must make personal attacks against folks they don't even know. If you ever want to chat me up about something you don't like in my blog, hit me up with an email, Twitter direct message, or even a message in a bottle. I am a big girl, I can take it.
- A self proclaimed tough as nails person that cries like a little girl anytime someone says ANYTHING that is contrary to their opinion, even if not directed towards them. Grow a set, Ok.Thanks.Bye.
- The worst offender of them all is the super snarky individual who jokes on EVERYONE, like personal jabs, but gets all self righteous if you say something in jest to them. You can find these folks mainly on Twitter, I make it a point to unfollow these folks. I want to put my e-foot up their @sses, because I'm a real thug (in my mind anyway.)
The days of letting the government declare our freedoms is over, we have to do
for ourselves to maintain and progress forward.
*stepping off soapbox
Now please commence with the celebrations!
Recently on a trip home to Boston, I had a conversation with my father about how we deal with people. He said that folks like us (dang Yankees) have no problem with not speaking to people we know. For example, let’s say you’re walking down the street, you see someone you know, but if you have nothing to say to that person, you just keep on walking. No harm no foul and no one expects anything different. Now when it comes to someone with whom we cant stand, there is definitely nothing wrong with walking by and not speaking, why waste your breath and time on someone you don’t care for? Well I’ve found that in the south, that mentality boggles the southern populous, and causes uproars, bonfires, and smear campaigns. My silence has caused turmoil…hmmm...I always thought silence was golden…
Soanywho, here are the tips from Yahoo:
1. Seek contact. –where I’m from, this means you are instigating a fight, you looking for trouble.
2. Do nice things for that person. –where I’m from, this could be seen as manipulation, a subtle act of hostility or a setup.
3. Give that person a brief touch. – where I’m from, this means you are ready to brawl.
4. Lighten up. – this means fahgettaboutit, its squashed
5. Act friendly. – where I’m from, this could be seen as being fake, you and I both know we don’t like each other, why front?
6. Resist criticizing that person. – where I’m from, this could make you the better person.
7. Remember happy shared experiences. –where I’m from, this may just make you even more mad at the person for messing up a good thing.
8. Be grateful. –where I’m from…I don’t even know what this means. Be grateful that the situation didn’t come to blows?
So you see ladies and gents, this list could cause more harm than good. And when you get your butt whooped or end up in jail, you can blame yahoo. Watch the clip below to get a better idea of where I'm from...
I’m trying to be my own boss, the creative cube dweller is on the verge of burning down her cube walls. I figure working for myself would prevent any horrendous fires in the Atlanta metro area. This isn’t a new goal, I’ve had it for about a year now, and I’ve been making moves toward making it a reality. My newest, and most costliest to date, is my investment in a pc. For what I currently do, and what I’m going into business for myself to do requires that I use certain applications that are pc based. Mac isn’t trying to convert these applications, and I’m not that good at Dreamweaver yet, I’m good, but not that good. So I thought that instead of doing my side gig at my main gig, I’d have the tools I needed at home, where I really want to work anyway. So now I have it! My Mac and PC are currently coexisting on my desk in my house. I am now available to actually work on my contracts, from my house!!!
So here is a challenge I want to open up to all 3 of our blog readers: I need a name for my business. Are any of you out there good at coming up with business names? I’m an E-Learning Designer, I develop online courses, develop curriculum, instructional design etc…I need a quick turn around for this-trying to get business cards printed and get a domain name-so help a sista out!
Ya'll remember ol' girl from Neverending Story- "Sebastion, I need a name!" That's me ya'll, I even have the tears in my eyes as I type this....
I’ve been feeing some kinda way lately…its like someone either threw me up in the air or snatched the floor from under me, and I’m caught in the space of time between one action and the next. I’ve lost my footing, but I have yet to fall. I’m not floating, I don’t think, I’m just caught in some kind of suspended animation. Normally, as the laws of physics dictate, when you are in the air, you will eventually be pulled back down to the next solid surface. This act of pulling, or gravity, usually happens quite fast after factoring momentum and weight and all of that, we’re talking seconds here. However, when I’m feeling some kinda way the laws of physics don’t work quite as fast, and I’ve been in this moment between moments for some days now. Just being…not at ease and feeling some kinda way…
I think back to the last few times I’ve felt some kind of way and I’ve realized that this feeling sometimes happens when I’ve turned a corner on how I perceive the world, and myself. In other words, I’m growing, rather awkwardly, but growing and changing just the same. My hope is that after I pass this-some kinda way- stage I’ll have a new resolve. My thinking will be a bit clearer and I’ll be more focused. Until then, if you see me, hovering in the space above you, please don’t shoot me down, just give me the thumbs up and tell me its going to be ok.
from http://southernfried2009.org The Southern Fried Poetry Slam was started by Allan Wolf in 1993 in Asheville, North Carolina. This performance poetry competition, which travels to a different southern city annually, has grown into one of the largest poetry convention in the nation, second only to the Poetry Slam, Inc.’s National Poetry Slam, which started in 1990.
The weekend was filled with Poetry Slam Competitions, Open Mics, Workshops, Ciphers, and Parties. I got the chance to be around all my poet friends, and met so many new folks that are my new family. I got several chances to perform at open mics and I even competed in a Haiku Slam. Needless to say, I was in heaven. Actually I would describe it as a dream, that unfortunately I had to awake from. Next year it is in Knoxville, Tennessee. I will be there with bells on. I'll share some from the weekend with you below :
See how happy I was!
3 members of the Bull City Slam Team (Axiom, Kane, Dasan), they came in 2nd, I am so proud!
Ciphers just popped up randomly in the streets of Downtown Durham, spontaneous poetry is beautiful...
Another spontaneous freestyle session...
Nothing like good friends ....
Natural hair EVERYWHERE... loooooooooove it!
My sisters in poetry!
Slam Finals, as winners were being announced.
#2 Tailgating SUV in the rain. When I drive I alternate between cruising and flying like a bat out of hell. However, in the rain, in Atlanta, I slow my tail down and drive with some sense and enough space between me and the person in front of me. And then I see very closely in my rearview mirror, soccer mom in her huge SUV bearing down behind me. I think to myself, if I were to brake check her, that would be one hell of a law suit because there is no way, according to physics class and the laws of gravity that an SUV, driving fast, on a wet surface, can slow itself down fast enough not to crash into me, or hydroplane and cause me to hyperventilate as they swerve off the road behind me. No way Jose. And I also believe that you have to maintain some kind of cool to operate a SUV period, maybe I watch too many rap videos. All I know is that a skinny white woman behind the wheel of a SUV is always cause for concern, rain or no rain.
#3 Intimidation at the gym. OMG these women no longer have any fear of us. Especially at the gym. These fools will try to strong eye me when I’m huffing and puffing on a piece of equipment at the gym. I look at their lean bony figures and then up at them and am like “really?” I need to be on this machine a whole heck of a lot more than you, sweetie. They get down right crazy at the gym ya’ll, its not a game to them. And that is wonderful, I’m all for keeping in shape, but trying to rush my chunky tail off equipment is grounds for an old school butt whoopin in the parking lot. I refuse to be pressured by one of them. I thought they were afraid of us?
*I used to be an underweight woman, so I can talk mess, and call them any kind of name I want, lord knows I had to hear it back then. just perpetuating the ignorance.
**I wanted to provide a hand drawn illustration for this piece, but I’m too busy…