BlackPeopleWorryAboutTheDumbestShit.com

Starring Meagan Good

As I’m sure most of you already know, a new Madea movie came out this past weekend. I can’t be bothered to look up the full title, so for the remainder of this post, I’ll just refer to it as Gay Nigga in a Dress Part 12. Between the previews for this and Jumping the Broom (due out in a couple of weeks), I’ve finally reached my breaking point for seeing the same damn movies being made over and over again. It’s like every black filmmaker is obligated to mix & match shit from this list in order to make a movie:

• A strong independent black woman who doesn’t need a man…even though the entire movie is about her needing a man
• A sensitive black man who isn’t deep enough in the plantation for the strong independent black woman
• A slightly played-out rapper/R&B singer
• A black comedian with one funny line in the entire movie (which has already been used to death in the previews)
• A wise matriarch who gives incoherent advice (bonus points if it’s a man in drag)
• A disjointed family who needs to reconnect
• A sassy black woman who provides “comedic” relief (bonus points if it’s a man in drag)
• A hater who stands in the way of the strong independent black woman’s happiness
• A white person who has absolutely business in the movie (I see you, Not Easily Broken)
• Church service at the end (bonus points for a wedding)

8/10^th of this has been in practically every black movie created since 2000. Oh, and it’s pretty much a guarantee that the film will be set within a 20-mile radius, so I didn’t even bother making that an option. Black people apparently don’t go on adventures. (Yeah, I’m mad that I haven’t gotten any calls about Black to the Future yet).

Anyway – for the past 15 minutes, I’ve poured my blood, sweat and tears into a film I like to call: Niggas at the Crib. I’m throwing in the towel and going for that Tyler Perry money. (To all my female readers: Please try your best to refrain from throwing your panties in my direction while I drop this heater).

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(Y’all like that Jenny Jones title, don’t front)

A few weeks ago, I was doing some studying on the lynching of black men – mainly to get a read on the sexual propaganda and hysteria that inspired a lot of them (alleged rape, lusting over white women, etc.). Getting a refresher on these “black beast” memes of the past, I couldn’t help but notice how many of them are still alive today in a virtually unaltered state. In particular, I had my eye on the porn industry.

Days prior, I had been working on a project about how white consumers respond to entertainment with black stars (sports, music, movies, etc.). Eventually, I made my way toward interracial porn. I was primarily looking for a hard sales breakdown, but my research gave me a little more than I had bargained for. Not only does interracial porn appear to be doing pretty well in white circles, but apparently, the more racist – the better:

“My customers seem to enjoy black men ‘taking advantage of’ white women; seducing their white daughters and wives. The Blackzilla line is one of my best selling series. Oh No! There’s a Negro in My Mom is also one that sells as soon as it hits the shelves. The more ‘wrong’ a title is, the more appealing it is. My customers don’t want to see a loving interracial couple; they want to see massive black dicks satisfying or defiling pretty white girls.” Such is the observation of Allison Miller, owner of adult retail outlet Taboo in Richmond, Virginia.

“When the races mix, especially if the purity of the sacred white woman is compromised, it gets a lot of attention – even if the white girl is as dirty and disease riddled as humanly possible.” – Cram Johnson, co-proprietor of Chatsworth Pictures, producers of Oh No! There’s a Negro in My Mom and I Can’t Believe You Sucked a Negro: a Cuckold’s POV

“I did a signing for New Sensations in Ohio and a group of young white guys with swastikas on their arms asked me to sign DVDs for them because they liked my movies. When I first started the whole Blackzilla thing, I had many white men from the South who were racist tell me they loved it. I have discovered that there is a huge group of people who dislike other races, but have sexual fantasies about a black male dominating a white woman in a very forceful way.” – Shane Diesel, adult actor (Source, NSFW)

Now, I’m not the kind of person to get bent out of shape over a few petty names. What gets me is the fact that protecting the “purity of the sacred white woman” (fuck outta here) was one of the biggest motivators of lynch mobs back in the day; as were fears of some mythical ‘Blackzilla’ ‘seducing their white daughters and wives.’

Nowadays, their grandchildren are sitting around getting off to it.

And what really kills me is the façade that people like the aforementioned Swastika guys are probably putting on the majority of the time: “White Power” by day; fantasizing over some black dude’s dick by night. It makes me wonder if their ancestors were equally conflicted.

Thinking back on all of those black castrations in particular, I can’t help but wonder if there was some sort of envy-based “If I can’t have it, you can’t either” dynamic going on beneath it all. Or maybe violence was a charade that helped make their black sexual fantasies seem a little more real in those technologically-primitive times (which raises the question of whether these dudes were repressed homos and/or subconsciously got a kick out of this brand of black dominance). Or maybe it’s just the simple taboo of it all. Who knows.

Anyhow, given current white male affinity for interracial porn, I’m inclined to believe that quite a few of those lynchings in the past were more sexual than judicial. Yesterday’s violence and today’s porn operate so heavily under the same context that I have a hard time treating them as unrelated phenomena. One could try to argue that today’s attraction toward interracial porn is some sort of indicator of “progress,” but then you’d have to answer the question of why centuries-old racist elements have been preserved so well in it; as well as the question of why these elements are so crucial in the enjoyment of it. On the other hand, I find it equally hard to believe that yesterday’s lynchings were entirely pure in their billing as punishment. Between false accusations, proactive sexual propaganda and severed black penises being considered prized souvenirs, it’s all just a little too sexual to keep my eyebrow down.

With all of this potential mystique, admiration and/or envy floating through the air, I’m left wondering just how much of the hell that black people have caught over the years has been genuine in its billed intent. When you have skinheads out here whacking off to B. Pumper or whomever, there’s obviously some weird subconscious shit going on behind the curtain. Seriously, who the hell claims something as their nightmare (e.g. a ‘Negro in their daughter’) then turns around and gets sexual pleasure from it?

I may expand in a later post. I also want to examine the black male and white female roles in all of this.

But before I leave, here’s a little something extra for the “something new” crowd:

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"Lawd, please! Give me the strength to save these precious white people!"

For over a year, I had been having this crazy dream where white people decide to pack up and leave earth in rocket ships. I’m not totally sure why they were leaving or where they were going, but black people weren’t invited and started crying like babies when the white people left. Anyway – to make a long story short, all of the ships exploded. My condolences.

Every time I wake up from that dream, I’m always a little disturbed that black people would’ve rather lived on some Jetsons plantation than risk removing the white man’s dick from their asses. But more than that, I always find it amusing that black people were presumed screwed, yet were alright the whole time. Black people tried everything in their power to take on another man’s destiny and ended up being forced into their own – which wasn’t so bad. Go figure.

Recently, I purchased a [movie ticket] and decided to watch 2012. Joining movies like Avatar, Hancock and The Matrix, 2012 is conspicuously black, yet white enough for white people to actually go see it. Any time I’m exposed this combination of elements in a major Hollywood picture, I immediately turn on my White Bullshit Detector and get into Tin-Foil Hat Mode. 2012 definitely didn’t disappoint.

(more…)

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When talking about the alleged death of hip hop, conventional wisdom would call for me to throw shade on the Soulja Boys and Gucci Manes of the world. As with many other issues in the black community, it’s treated as unfathomable that the present could have any sort of connection to the past. In fact, egged on by whites, many of us act as though we’re reaching some sort of enlightened state by ignoring the past. This type of arrogant ignorance is largely the reason why we keep falling for the same things over and over again. It’s also the reason why hip hop, to many, is unbearable these days.

I find it disturbing that when discussing the history of hip hop, many black intellectuals and experts can seem to identify every shift in the culture except the fact that hip hop essentially went from having black youth as its gatekeepers to a bunch of old ass white men. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were ignoring this on purpose.

Recalling an episode of the Viacom-sponsored nigger-quarrel formally known as Hip Hop vs. America (BET), I remember rapper David Banner trying to start a discussion on this issue. The result? He was cut off by host and fellow rapper MC Lyte, who shall be referred to as “Mammy Lyte” for the remainder of this post. Sadly, in spite of being in the rap game for God knows how many years, Mammy pretended as though she had no idea what Banner was talking about. And her cluelessness was so contrived; almost as though she had been instructed. Banner was spot-on, though. Over the years, black people had lost a major degree of control over hip hop. To figure out why, we need to backtrack.

In 1979, Kurtis Blow became the first rapper to sign a contract with a major recording company. For this feat, he’s widely considered a pioneer. As a result of Blow’s ensuing success, hip hop – which was once considered a fad – was able to prove itself as a viable industry. In a nutshell, Kurtis Blow can be largely credited with taking the culture from the street corner to the mainstream.

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” (more…)

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White girl is tryna fuck up our mission and Tyrese ain’t having it. We remember what you did to Kobe.

Because Jewish (read: white) people are more human than black people, tales derived from their holocaust have no expiration date. Realizing this, director Quentin Tarantino decided to bless the world with his latest film Inglourious Basterds. Due to my not giving a shit, I haven’t gotten around to visiting Hood Blockbuster and purchasing a [movie ticket] yet. However, that might soon change due to the rave reviews I’ve been reading. As I write this, IMDb even has it ranked as the 35^th best movie of all time. Apparently it’s a WWII revenge flick about some Jewish dudes who go around killing Nazis for fun. Since Jewish people run the media and have put incalculable resources into making the Nazi Party the undisputed devils of history, this is supposed to be funny. You know, because they deserve it.

Now, when I was about 7 years old I swore that when I got filthy rich my first niggerish purchase would be an American Gladiators course in my basement. Scratch that. Thanks to the good folks over at Fiyastarter.com and their review of this movie, I have a new purpose in life. This is what they hit me with:

You have to wonder if Spike ever makes a slavery revenge fantasy flick, and Tyrese, Omar Epps and Mekhi are beating the shit outta slave owners in a humorous fashion, would critics and audiences be laughing at the bad guys getting what they deserved? Actually, you don’t have to wonder. They wouldn’t. That answers that.

I don’t think y’all understand what those words did to me. I feel like Michael Jordan after the first time he touched a basketball; like a freshman white girl who just moved into college and met some black guys. Nigga, I got work to do.

Starting today, I am officially on a mission to put out a black equivalent of Inglourious Basterds. I’ve even started getting my ideas together. Check this out:

John Amos, Fred Williamson and Jim Brown are time travelers (no, wait. Don’t “X” out). For the past 10 years they’ve been going back in time and altering events to change the course of black history. For example, they travel to the 1930s, scoop up a young Ronald Reagan and drop him off in the dinosaur era wearing a jumpsuit made out of steak. They can also be credited with traveling to 1992 and breaking Bill Clinton’s saxophone before he could play it on Arsenio and convince dumb ass black people to start calling him black. Needless to say, these niggas were gettin’ it in.

Unfortunately, they’re getting old and don’t have the juice left to embark on their biggest mission yet: getting revenge for slavery. Because of this, they’re looking to recruit a team of new niggas to take over in their absence. Enter Mehki Phifer, Omar Epps, Tyrese and myself (I’m sorry, but I’ll be damned if I don’t star in this masterpiece). Oh, and we have superpowers that make us completely indestructible, by the way.

They see me rollin'

Dressed in the finest 18^th century fashions, we travel to 1782 and take a road trip across America in a golden carriage driven by Scarlett Johansson (see, we’re not racist). Then we wait on salty broke white dudes to come outside of their houses and try us. Needless to say, they get absolutely fucked up. Repeat this for about two hours and you have the gist of the movie. There’s also a scene where we c-walk through the middle of a lynch mob. That type of stuff is funny to us.

So yeah, if any Hollywood types are reading this, feel free to contact me with your interest.

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Starring Chris Rock (probably my favorite comedian), Good Hair is a documentary inspired by his concern over the self-image of his 7 year-old daughter Lola. Apparently hurt by the notion that she didn’t have “good hair,” Rock set out on a journey into black culture to figure out who (or what) planted the seed in his daughter’s mind.

This is definitely something I want to check out (scheduled for a October 9, 2009 release). But as for the issue at hand, I’m surprised that Lola even made it out of the house. Many black girls don’t even get that luxury. Growing up closely with several female cousins, I remember the household politics whenever the brushes and combs would come out. The ones with nappier hair would dread having their hair done. After being accidentally burned with hotcombs, having their scalps violently tugged on, or just downright being made fun of or yelled at, tears usually weren’t hard to come by. They were treated as defective, in a sense. Meanwhile, the girls praised by the adults as having a “good grade of hair” always seemed to take a bit of pride in being less of a hassle. If asked today, I’m sure all parties involved would deny there being any sort of problem; but I can’t imagine things like these not having connections to where many black women end up in their attitudes towards their natural hair. For many, it’s almost treated as a rite of passage to receive their first perm. It’s unfortunate, too, because natural hair is my preference in a black woman. In fact, I usually won’t entertain anything less. Sadly, natural hair pretty-much fell off the map once chicks outgrew their barrettes. We still got a few holding it down, though:

Juices and berries FTW

I can understand why they don’t, but I really wish more black women would embrace who they truly are. I’d take these hairstyles any day over some piss-yellow Beyonce weave. That said, click here for a list of natural salons in your area. And click here to view the trailer for Good Hair.

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