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Where's Strunk & White when you need it?

If only things came out as you "thunk" them. It seems I had a poor choice of words in my previous post. When I said I couldn't agree more with the statement "racial issues supercede morality issues", I meant that I couldn't agree with Christian Democrats espousing this viewpoint. It is not my own. It is theirs. I happen to believe the opposite. Thanks Lori for drawing that to my attention.

Note to self: Don't do two-part posts. I'm cracking under the pressure to produce. I would push to finish by Wednesday morning, but I have a 7:00 am meeting, and you people just wake up too dang early (my sitemeter logs the most hits between 4:00-7:00 am Pacific time). Do realize I'm in bed at that time. Part two forthcoming later today. Promise. Maybe.

It was announced yesterday that Al Sharpton has a new gig as television host/career coach. He will be hosting a new reality show airing on Spike TV called I Hate My Job. The jokes around the title alone are just too easy. In order to leave myself ample room to effectively bag on him when the show airs, I'll just be silent for now.

The show's concept is actually rather interesting. An all-male cast of contestants will quit their jobs and work with two "Life-counselors" who will give them guidance, advice and weekly assignments. One of those counselors is Al Sharpton. Yeah. Credible counselor.

In an interview, Sharpton called himself the "the working man's Donald Trump". Now that's a comparison I can get behind. He even has the hair to boot!

When asked, Sharpton's reasons for doing the show seem noble (key word: seem),

"I like the concept of trying to have people discover their purpose in life, and not have the world define them or settle for less than who they want to be just to pay their bills"

Seems to me Al would do better as a conestant than the host.

To pacify my urge to comment harshly, I focused my energies elsewhere. I present to you, my photo montage:

I've never been one to fit in a box. Although I've tried, my legs usually get cramped and sooner or later, I'm bound to start kicking. This describes my plight with political party affiliations. Perhaps one of the necessary evils of the world, political parties and all that they entail give me an enormous migraine headache. I can certainly understand why Bill Gates gives equal donations to both the Democrats and the Republicans. When you're rich, you don't have to be affiliated with a political party. My ultimate decision to wallow in the shade of seeming political ambiguity is not without pretext.

I grew up in a home with Christian Democrat parents. I couldn't even explain that one to you if I tried (and I will). However, when asked at one point by my high school history teacher about my family's political affiliation, without hesitation, I answered, "We tend to vote for Democrats because although we are against many of the things for which Democrats stand, we think the racial issues supercede the morality issues." At the time I don't think I understood what I was saying, but even now, I agree that most Christian Democrats think this way.

Growing up, my general understanding of the Republican party was simple: Republicans were evil, white, and to be feared. I'd still say the second and third are mostly true. Listening to family members bad mouth Ronald Reagan and George Bush on a consistent basis didn't give me any motivation to hold them in high regard. Hearing many Republicans referred to as "racist bigots" certainly didn't birth in me any desire to be associated with them in my future adulthood. As with many today, because my childhood left me with little understanding of the "issues", I assumed I'd follow in the footsteps of my family and become a bloodline Democrat. I could tell you the Republicans were bad, but I could never figure out why. Thankfully, the gaze of childhood shielded me from the political battles taking place in the 80's and 90's.

High school was tough. I struggled to find my place in the political thinking sphere. Approximately 85% of my high school was unashamedly Liberal--teachers and administrators included. With the additional barrier of a curriculum steeped in Liberalism, needless to say, voices of dissent were neither appreciated nor accepted. During that time, I struggled with two issues: gay rights and abortion. Although I still held fast to my liberal persuasions, I could not reconcile the idea of abortion being "morally right" and homosexuality being equated to the civil rights movement. I often kept my feelings about certain issues private for fear of being labeled a homophobe, a Republican (a carnal sin) or even worse, being voted "most conservative" in the high school yearbook. It's a sad and petty thing to be concerned about, but this was something most people dreaded and for a black girl, president of the black student group on campus, and long-time crusader for racial justice, that would've been my social demise. Today, "most conservative" is a title I'd wear like a badge of honor. Ironically, I think I was instead voted "Most Outspoken" and "Most Likely to become Famous". They never said famous for what.

Spring semester of my senior year, I began to feel uncomfortable in many of my classes. Take for example "Global Village", a sociology class where on one occasion, we were asked to leave school to protest the WTO which was holding its meetings in Seattle at the time (I'm sure you remember the riots). In fact, my teacher came to school that day wearing a gas mask (these are the idiots my parents paid to educate me). On a different occasion, Planned Parenthood came and spoke to our class about global sterilization and offering free abortions to students. Around that same time, the student government on which I served rallied to get condom dispensers placed in student bathrooms. Since I seemed to be the only one on the council who disagreed with this, I said nothing. I struggled to find my political stance amidst a sea of hot issues with which I could not agree.

By graduation, I was fed up. Having had the privilege of delivering the valediction in front of my class, parents, alumni, the board of directors, and every major donor, I took the opportunity to "come out". I spared everyone the flowery "believe in yourself and follow your dreams" speech and used the platform to tear apart the surface and self-centered liberalistic ideals our generation was facing. It was gutsy but I pulled it off and left many in the audience writhing. I got mixed response. I didn't care. I knew I was never going to see most of those people again.

Things took a turn for the worse when I went to college; the microcosm of crazy philosophies. I'm not sure if it was being greeted on campus by detailed chalk drawings on the sidewalk of stick figures in varying positions of gay sex, along with the words, "Queer Alliance Welcomes All Freshmen", or the signs for the female masturbation club that did it, but Wesleyan University (and some good old-fashioned common sense) single-handedly drove me to have the conservative worldview I profess today. For that I thank them. Really, I do. I plan on dedicating my first book to my pot-smoking, "Christian", but doesn't believe in God, Birkenstock-wearing, Theologian, history and religion professor. It will read:

To Professor Klaaren, thanks for those chats in your office. I'm sorry for making you cry. Your confusion is my inspiration.

I spent most of my short college career diametrically opposed to almost everything that existed on campus, and that's probably an understatement.

That Fall was the presidential election and while I was registered independent, without question, I voted for George W. Bush. I didn't tell my parents. In fact, I didn't tell anyone.

[ Read Parts Two & Three ]

I have found something that promises to be the demise of this weblog. It's called Audblog, and it's my new found friend. It allows you to post verbally to your blog. Wait, that didn't come out right (although voice commanding to my blog would be fun). It actually allows you to record a post with your voice.

I'm thinking of trying it out later in the week. It's like having your own radio show, except not.

In response to a news story on celebrity t-shirts encouraging young people to vote, columnist & author Michelle Malkin has a contest going on alternative t-shirt slogans. Her suggestion for Ashley Judd's t-shirt:

If my mom practiced what I preach, I wouldn't be here. THREE CHEERS FOR FEMINISM!

Heh.

Sarcasm. The Simpsons made it mainstream, but even long before the work of Matt Groening, there were prominent comedians and actors who made sarcasm both comedic and famous. I have mixed feelings about the concept of sarcasm. It is a form of communication that has the capacity to be both powerful and destructive. When used with ill-intent, it can cut very deeply. It becomes a machete, decimating everything in its path. Contrarily, sarcasm can also be used carefully like a scalpel, cutting through to the heart of the matter. When used at the right time, it can convey far more than plain words. Even Jesus used sarcasm on occasion.

For the sake of clarity, I've decided to go to the book on the true definition of sarcasm. I am the nerd that loves word studies. According to Webster sar-casm is:

1: a sharp and often satirical or ironic utterance designed to cut or give pain [tired of continual sarcasms]
2a: a mode of satirical wit depending for its effect on bitter, caustic, and often ironic language that is usually directed against an individual [this is no time to indulge in sarcasm]

To top that off, when you follow the word's etymology, one of its Greek origins meant "to tear flesh, bite the lips in rage, sneer, or cut". Doesn't exactly sound like the most edifying form of communication. Yet, in this day ang age, we have made this a socially acceptable form of communication. Bottom line: 100% sarcastic communication is not only unhealthy, it's eating away relationships and families like cancer.

The problem these days is the motivation of our sarcasm. On a personal level, I am not generally, nor have I ever been a sarcastic person. I'm a blunt person. There is a difference. I have found however, that I tend to be a sarcastic thinker and have self-disciplined some of my thoughts to stop in my throat before exiting my mouth. The great part about writing is nothing is off limits. I have enough time to form my words so that the message is conveyed correctly. Thus, the hyperextension of my brain, called my blog probably carries more sarcasm than you'd find with me in the flesh. My overwhelming motivation (dispute me if you wish) is generally compassion. Hard to believe I'm sure, but my compassion isn't the "touchy feely" kind. It's the "get a grip and pull yourself together" kind. My desire has always been to convey truth in the most practical sense. Sometimes that means telling other famous people whom I will never meet how dumb I think they are. Admittedly, that aspect of myself needs work. I don't believe that sarcasm is a bad thing, however, it should be used in taste and moderation.

With sarcastic commentary, there are varying degrees of motivation. In the case of Jesus, it was love, compassion and his desire to teach the disciples. These days when I listen to others' sarcasm, I don't usually feel "the love". When you think of the Simpsons, you don't think (warm, loving, mashed potato-ey family). In fact, many popular television and movie familes over the last fifteen or so years have been plagued with sarcastic dialogue. Sure it makes for good comedy and ratings, but I question the effect it's had on the devaluation of the family.

One of the worst types of sarcasm is the kind that's rooted in hurt. Perhaps you've heard the saying before, "Hurt people hurt people." Sarcasm can become a defense mechanism for dealing with the world in the midst of one's unresolved hurt. Instead of making oneself vulnerable in conversation, everything gets shot down with a snide, cynical or sarcastic remark. People who ascribe to this form of communication are generally not much fun to be around which is good since they tend to be magnets for people just like them.

Then there's the sarcasm that's rooted in bitterness and disappointment with the world. Most of our modern-day sarcastic celebrities fit this category. This is the type of unrelenting sarcasm that draws crowds, sells books, and hikes up the ratings. This is what I can't stand about the Boondocks.

Any way you slice it, I think we need to rexamine this whole issue of sarcasm and its effects on our society. These days, people are raising their children up to be walking cynics. The television isn't helping. Nor is our lack of understanding about its detriments. I wrote this whole post without any sarcasm whatsoever. Yay for me.

Well, this weekend was the bang that concluded Gay Pride month. Being a Seattleite in all, I don't want to assume anything so I'll state the obvious: June was Gay Pride month. We can thank Bill Clinton for that. Let's see, June is the sixth month and in Biblical numerology, six is the number of man and/or flesh. Makes perfect sense to me. Seattle of course, included itself in the festivities with parades, parties and whatnot and I'll be the first to say that the heaviness in the air was evident. 'Tis a sad state for humanity to revel in such false liberty.

As you may recall, earlier this month President Bush refused to declare June "Gay Pride Month". This is one of the many reasons why I love that man (notwithstanding his inability to pronounce "American"). Then again, I'm proud to be a "Merikin". The behavior I saw displayed this weekend was not "Merikin" at all.

Of course, in true rebellious fashion, supporters of the month moved forward with their plans despite major roadblocks. Mind you, during the Clinton administration, the events and festivities of this month we're supported with government facilities and tax payers dollars. I don't think I was paying taxes back then (ouch, the age factor creeps in again), but had I been a taxpayer, I am pretty certain that I would have found major fault with using my dollars to support others gallivanting around the city in confusion. And to think that some Federal employees in Washington D.C. actually wanted a government sanctioned day off to attend the festivities is laughable.

I want to annihilate the phrase "celebrate diversity". For now at least. It's amazing how people can completely and totally distort and manipulate the true meaning of the rainbow. The rainbow was to signify God's covenant that he would never again destroy the earth by flood. A flood which by the way, came as a result of the very thing for which people now wave the rainbow. God is perhaps more merciful than I, because I would've drowned all of us unthankful heathens by now. Presently, the rainbow's been distorted and made to be the brand for acceptance of every type of lifestyle we can think of. And trust me when I say, animals are next. Human/animal relationships that is. When man is left to be his own God, there are no limits on his capabilities.

Every day is a struggle. One of the biggest battles we face is not in Iraq, but in the mind. The struggle is against secular humanism, moral relativism, and the self-serving lies propagated to us by the media. We have to guard our gates (the entry points and access to our thought life). With the images bombarding at me on a daily basis, I have to constantly remind myself what is the truth of ultimate reality. That is Jesus Christ.

One of my favorite Christian writers is Francis Schaeffer. He was a prolific thinker way before his time. While most of his work is phenomenal, I would highly recommend A Christian Manifesto. He discusses how we must have a true open marketplace of freedom whereby every idea can be expressed in such a way that people are forced to make a decision. We're not at that place yet. Right now, only certain ideas are acceptable. As it stands, "these people" (read: church & state separatists) aren't playing fair. The name of Jesus is a threat to those who don't believe. Preach muhammad, preach buddha, preach hare krishna, preach the kabbalah, preach animalism, but don't dare invoke the name of Jesus because that's offensive. You bet it is. There's power in that name. It's the very dividing line between the pseudo-spiritual and the true followers of Christ.

I know this isn't what the South Park Republicans came to read today. I'm sorry. Maybe it was watching Michael Moore in an interview acting as though he's doing some great service to the country by sparking healthy dialogue via his "crockumentary". Maybe it's the fact that a good majority of the black community is opposed to gay marriage, yet is willing to unashamedly support a political party that feels otherwise. Maybe it's the fact that I have an enormous stack of unfolded laundry sitting in my house. I'm not sure which, but I'm a little peeved right now. Where's the referee when we need him because people are changing the rules of engagement as we go along and it's just not kosher with me folks.

As believers, we have a great responsibility. I think Francis Schaeffer said it best when he wrote

"...it is then up to Christians to show that Christianity is the truth of total reality in the open marketplace of freedom..."

Now all we need is an open marketplace of freedom.

Parisian Phat Wedding

Indian steel tycoon Lakshmi Mittal paid $60 million for his 23 year-old daughter Vanisha's recent 1500 guest, 6-day Paris, France wedding event which reportedly included renting the entire "Jardon du Tuileries". I'll remember to bring this up one of these days when I'm asking my father to foot the bill. Any amount seems reasonable compared to this. I think of so many more productive things to do with $60 million.

The Rich Man's Woodstock
A recent John Kerry fundraiser brought all of liberal Hollywood out of the the woodworks. Attendees included Barbara Streisand, Jamie Foxx, Angie Stone and comedian/actor Billy Crystal who remarked, "It's just like Woodstock, only for rich people." My sentiments exactly.

High Schooler Dwight Howard #1 Draft pick
Howard, a high school senior in Atlanta was the number one pick to the Orlando Magic (they could use it). He is by the way, a born-again Christian and a virgin; not necessarily something that should be celebrated since it's a basic expectation. However, considering the times and seasons, that's quite a feat. I should know. But to the pros straight out of high school? I'm not so sure. Somebody better warn him about the floozy-hoes now. Let's pray he sets a better precedent than that of adulterer Kobe Bryant and follows the path of AC Green. Except, I wouldn't pray 39-year virginity on anyone. God bless Dwight with a wife...soon.

In other news, my company's stock hit $44.25 today. That surely puts a smile on my face as I intend on selling...quickly. I'm off for the weekend. I am feeling the insatiable urge to go swimming. Enjoy the sun/son.

A kind reader has brought a slight correction to my attention in reference to my "Tools of the 21st Century Part Deux" post, and I figured it warranted a public comment:

Ruthie Wrote:

I was surprised that as lovely a blog as yours could be so poorly researched. But then my husband reminded me that people with fine design skills don't necessarily have fact checking skills as well. I can't find any instance of the ACLU endorsing a political candidate. I see that they have endorsed some ballot initiatives. Could you tell me where you found ACLU endorsing candidates?

By the way, if you want to know how non-profit organizations are financed, you can check their IRS 990 forms online for free at Guidestar.org.

---

Hi Ruthie,

Thanks for writing. I'll address each of your points individually:

1) An attempt to be snide regarding my design/research skills is pretty much laughable due to the fact that even though I designed my layout, I'm actually in fact not a good designer and I don't really have any design skills. But thanks for the compliment, sort of.

2) Is the entire blog really poorly researched? Or are you just a fan of the ACLU? In fact, how many posts did you read? Just curious. That's a pretty outright statement considering one visit.

3) Starting your comment with an insult in the first sentence kind of puts a damper on how your most appreciated insight will be received. That's just a general tip for the future.

4) You're right, the ACLU doesn't directly endorse candidates, but they do indirectly and that's what I was getting at. They make outright statements like (blank candidate) is a "CARD-CARRYING MEMBER OF THE ACLU" and what not. They also endorse many partisan Bills, Initiatives, and Referendums. Many of which happen to be sponsored by none other than Democrats.

5) I don't need to check to see how non-profits are financed. You can simply read their annual report which most publish via their website.

Lastly, just for clarity, I have no problems with nonprofits (although some of them pay beans and have horrible benefits). I plan on starting one myself in the future and my mother is the Artistic Director of one. I just don't like the nonprofits I named and what they stand for. It's a poor use of tax-exempt status if you ask me. And out of oh one million or so nonprofits in this world, I'd say that's pretty good (even though Part 3's still coming).

Thanks for chiming in,
Ambra

[click to enlarge]

(Preface: Am I on some black stuff today or what? I think it's a coincidence, but every bit of news that's struck my fancy today just so happens to explore some hot topics. Also, I had to hotlink the New York Times photo from the article to your right for this post because this Marques J. Redd character, a recent Harvard Graduate is not exactly hard on the eyes...whew!)

A New York Times article published today explores the growing discrepancies among black college students born in America versus those whose families were immigrants. According to the article, 8% (around 530) of Harvard's undergraduate student population is black. I should have been included in that number but that's alright, I'm not bitter...anymore (for more clarity read my bio). At a recent Harvard black alumni reunion, the issue of the type of black student being accepted to Harvard and other top universities was raised. It seems now there is a growing concern among many affirmative-action proponents that the wrong students are reaping the benefits. Statistically, only 1/3 of those black students are what Harvard African American studies professor and author Henry Louis Gates, Jr. would call,

"disadvantaged by the legacy of Jim Crow laws, segregation and decades of racism, poverty and inferior schools, who were intended as principal beneficiaries of affirmative action in university admissions."

Before I get all fidgety, let me just say, I renounce the notion that every single black undergraduate student at Harvard University is there by the help of affirmative-action. Gates' statement implies this and it just ain't so. This is only one of the many issues about which Gates and I differ.

Being that I attended what's called a "little-ivy" (a reference to a smaller version of nine or so "Ivy League" New England colleges) I can vouch for the fact that the majority of blacks there are West Indian, Jamaican, Bahamian, and so on. They are also extremely intelligent. Frighteningly so. My Americanized butt had to work twice as hard to keep up with those over-achievers. I lived in a dorm with many and the upside to my college experience is that I can probably understand patois (Jamaican dialect) better now than the average person.

There's a call out for honest discourse on why second and third generation American black students are being accepted to top schools at higher rates. It doesn't really take a rocket scientist to figure this out, but as usual, somebody's going to make a dissertation out of this. The two Harvard buffs at the helm of this ship are Henry Gates and Lani Guinier (a law professor I used to idolize). The ultimate concern here is that "African Americans" being left out of top universities will not gain entry into the country's "inner circles of power, wealth and influence".

Okay. Time for real talk. First of all, stop whining. Let's not relegate success in this country to gaining "access" because if you're smart and innovative enough, you can create your own inner circles of power, wealth and influence. The Vietnamese have. Secondly, attending a top university is not necessarily in direct correlation to power and success. Even statistics show us that. Thirdly, it's time to get the mirror out folks. Looks like afirmative action didn't go as planned. All bets on the table, I'd say it never will.

We play a huge part in perpetuating the victim mentality that has "kept black kids down" so to speak. Yes, things are systemic and institutionalized, but I can't think of a better defense for overcoming odds than to look at the drive of the immigrant population who can attend the same horrible schools and succeed.

The article does bring some balance by discussing schools' failure to accept enough lower-class white students as well. Read it, draw your own conclusions. I'm of the persuasion that people of all races could learn a thing or two from the work ethic of those from other countries.

(Hat tip: Joanne Jacobs)

Some of the better discussion I've seen on racism, my friend Avery breaks it down rather practically, discussing the general misapplication of the term. He also talks about the blind eye we turn to certain realities, like police brutality. I'd read it if I were you.

On June 10, during a rountable discussion on ESPN, Larry Bird commented that the NBA needed more white superstars. I think it's worthwhile to point out that the question of whether the NBA could use more white stars was actually asked of Bird. He simply responded to the question. Was it a set up? Who knows. While Bird went on to explain his rationale,

"I think it's good for a fan base because as we all know, the majority of the fans are white America. And if you just had a couple of white guys in there, you might get them a little excited...But it is a black man's game and it will be forever. I mean the greatest athletes in the world are African-American,"

the masses were dwelling on the "more white superstars" comment. The media ensued. People were making all kinds of racial accusations, and as columnist Leonard Pitts put it,

"You'd think Bird had burned a cross on magic Johnson's lawn, so great has the uproar been. He's been called a "lunkhead" a "nitwit" and a "bigot" among other choice epithets."

Thankfully, many people have come to the rescue of Bird, who probably has a better rapport with black people than the average white American, being that he did play with them for so many years in the NBA.

Mark Starr of Newsweek has one of the better commentaries I've read thus far on the Larry Bird fiasco. He brings things into a broader perspective remarking,

"Now, older and far more cautious if not downright cowardly, I am more likely to avoid than to address the racial issues of this era. While such matters still fascinate me, attempts to discuss race-no matter how reasoned and rational you may believe your own voice to be-are fraught with peril. I have little appetite for how ugly and accusatory the discourse can rapidly turn and appropriate fear of how it can tarnish a reputation. It is simply not safe for a white man (just ask Paul Hornung) or a black man (just ask Bill Cosby) to engage the subject publicly with any degree of candor."

Preach brother, preach. The reactions to Bird's comments could be a lot worse. Then again, they could be a lot better too. Ultimately, anyone with eyes can see that the NBA is dominated by black players. Does this mean they need more white players? It depends on your definition of "need". If "need" is dictated by ticket, paraphernalia, and endorsement sales, then probably, yes. If "need" is dictated by an overwhelming desire to make every crevice of the world "equal opportunity", no. There are 500% more black superstar basketball players than there are white. And? There are many reasons for this. One, in my opinion being that black culture pushes out better players. Now don't get all intense. I don't say this with pride as this isn't necessarily something to gloat about. There are cultural and socioeconomic factors at work in this reality for which both black and white people an be held accountable. Historically, in certain communities one's ability to play ball has been exalted above one's ability to think. This is a can of worms I don't wish to open at this present time. Another day another post.

Whether Larry Bird was right or wrong is not really paramount. Even columnist Starr agrees with that

"Though I'm not sure Bird is right, I can certainly make the argument for him. Even black hip-hop culture, which has captivated white suburban kids, seems to fire on all cylinders-the music, the movie, the mooning on the MTV awards-when a white superstar like Eminem is channeling it."

I can agree with this statement mostly. Except I disagree that hip-hop culture is "black". The response Bird got is pretty typical in this country. We can talk about black/white sports issues in barber shops, supermarkets, and family rooms, but certainly not on ESPN. The disappointing thing is that when someone really does step out of line in their comments, people turn a deaf ear because wolf has been cried so many times.

Food stamps are being replaced with "Electronic Beneftis Transfer" or "EBT" for short. Apparently, the Federal Government is shifting the paper stamps to a plastic, bank type debit card. I never thought I'd see the day.

I generally try to refrain from commentary about "Slick Willie". A good fifty percent of the general public has done a fair amount of ripping him to shreds. At this present time, I don't see the worth and to be completely honest, it's just not fun any more. It's kind of like stealing from the ice cream man. It just gets old and after awhile, the ice cream doesn't taste as good. These days, Mr. Bill has perfected the role of miserable sap so I figure, why kick a guy who's down? Maybe he's learned his lesson. Maybe he's had a rebirth. Maybe he found Jesus. Then again, maybe he's still faulty. Yep, definitely faulty.

I find something utterly detestable in the fact that Clinton has decided to "come clean" on the cusp of the release of his new autobiography. No doubt, all these shenanigans were scripted to say the least. While interviews abound, the most publicized was not 60 minutes, Nightline or the Today Show. It was Oprah. And boy was it ever Oprah. I was privileged not to see this mockery of "truth" take place. I only caught bits and pieces of the "After Show" last night. When I got a chance to review the transcript, I was surprised to see that good old biased Oprah maintained a steady flow of probing questions on why Clinton lied:

Oprah: "But, ultimately, why didn't you tell the truth?"

Bill: "I was afraid that if I did it, at the time, that (a) he would go out and indict a lot of people, falsely, and (b) the hysteria would cause me to be run from office, and that the bad guys would win, yeah."

The portion I caught was a pseudo-remorseful Clinton, pointing the finger at Kenneth Starr and the evil Republicans for bringing him to a place where he had to lie. He remarked that even Hilary knew of their scheming to oust him out of office and for that reason alone, she was accepting and forgiving of him. According to Bill, the issue of his infidelity was to be handled within the family and not a matter of interest to the American people. At this comment, the audience broke into applause. If I were in the audience, I would sat in my seat with my hands folded.

Sorry buddy. When you're the leader of the free world, your infidelity affects everyone. It comes with the territory. Things flow from the head down so you better believe that "choice" you made to disgrace your family left us wide open and vulnerable to the enemy--quite literally. I cannot tolerate the blame game. With all due respect (sorta), grow a spine. The logic of blaming your lies on defense against your "enemies" just doesn't fly. I gave you a chance Willie and once again, you let me down.

(Hat tip: Hugh Hewitt)

In 1994, a dreadful event descended on the face of this world. A young, teenage American boy staying in Singapore had his backside flogged. The masses were insensed. Mothers were outraged. Michael Fay's alleged crimes in Singapore warranted what America felt was an inhumane punishment. Debates were rampant. Yet, people around my neck of the woods never quite understood the debate.

We've all been in a busy supermarket. We've all heard little Johnny crying bloody murder. We've all heard little Johnny's mom try unsuccessfully to use psychology to quiet him. We've all seen it fail to work. We've all wanted to smack Johnny; or at least wished his mother would. Or maybe you're one of those people who have amazing self-control and compassion and have never wanted to inflict bodily harm on a small child. I am not one of those people. My name is Ambra, and my parents beat my butt. The preferable term here is "spanking", but within a cultural context, there are many who know the word "beat" is merely an idiom and not literal. I come from a long line of corporal punishers. The fact that I say this with so much pride is a bit disturbing. I am still proud to say I am a product of spanking.

I wasn't a bad kid, but I was definitely a smart-mouth (some things never change). If you attempted to reason with me, you would have to enter into a full-out, head-on debate. This was something my mother refused to do and thus she employed other methods to "help" me to obey. Generally speaking, this form of "help" didn't feel good. Spankings took place in the bathroom, hands on the toilet, bent over. Those five seconds were agonizing. That is, the five seconds before the lifting of my father's hand made contact with my "innocent" rear-end. Fervent prayers were sent up on my behalf in hopes that somehow he would miss or have a change of heart. I'd always preferred my mother's discipline to that of my father. She had mercy. At least then I could "fake cry" since she never spanked too hard. We always got spanked for attitudes, not actions. Being that most actions are rooted in attitudes, this was probably a good thing. The weapon of choice was usually a thin, wooden rod kept strategically on the ledge over the door. In desperation however, my mom was known to use the first thing she could get her hands on (a slipper, a magazine, a feather). Considering her weak hand, this was usually more comical than painful. Resisting "help" was a big no-no. I'll never forget the summer when my younger brother ran from an impending spanking. When my mom finally caught up with him, he evaded her swing and boldly taunted, "Ha ha...missed!" Thank God he was wearing a helmet. I'm surprised he made it out of that situation alive. When we were left home with a babysitter, my siblings and I would go around the house, collecting all the wooden rods and any other potential spanking weaponry. We'd then proceed to throw them into our wooded backyard. This is where they rest to this very day, probably buried next to my deceased shitzu. It was our grand scheme to rid our household of spankings altogether. It never worked.

When recounting childhoods with friends, I found that many people I knew had not been spanked. Was my family odd? Was this cultural or values-centerd? I still don't know. It does seem however that the baby-boomer generation was a bit more comfortable than mine with the idea of swatting their kids. Back when Rikki Lake was still a credible show, she ran an episode on corporal punishment that left me outraged. I was so outraged that I actually wrote the show a letter which I'm sure was filed under "Raving Lunatics". On her show, corporal punishment was portrayed as pure child abuse. As one can imagine, the slant of the show was heavily weighted in favor of the more shall we say, "peaceful" approach to conflict resolution. One guest on the show outlined the "steps" she used to discipline her children:

Step 1: You get a warning
Step 2: You get a time-out
Step 3: Privileges are taken away

When I was growing up, we had no steps. It went like this:

Step 1: You do it.

End of story. "One, two, three" magic wouldn't have worked with me. In most staged dialoges on the issue of corporal punishment, you have one side that espouses the "1, 2, 3 magic" philosophy. Representing the other side, in a "fluke" I'm sure, you usually have the insanely psychotic parents who beat the living daylights out of their children every time they get a chance. I think my family fell somewhere in between these two. Spankings were few but meaningful.

I never presume to tell other people how to raise their children. To spank or not to spank is the parent's decision. Spanking is one thing. Child abuse is another. One would think it depends on the nature of the child. What I do not tolerate is people, laws, and organizations who try to usurp the rights of parents by telling them what they cannot do. It's a shame these days parents can't even discipline their own children without fear of getting commentary from the liberal peanut gallery. My parents had to use caution when spanking my sister because she'd get hysterical and start shrieking and thrashing around the house at the very mention of a spanking. As I'm sure you can imagine, this did not go over well with the neighbors. For fear of anonymous phone calls to "Child Protective Services", it's safe to say, she didn't get spanked much.

The main goal of spanking should be to associate pain with disobedience or sin. For the average five-year old, discipline requires consistency. This is why you don't see first-graders on the Dr. Phil Show. You can only reason so much with a child. For me, spanking was only preparation for the chastising that would come later in life. This is the kind that really hurts. This was the kind that could ruin your life. For many, it was worth it for the sake of a few sore bottoms.

Every now and then I turn on the local news and see some idiotic criminally ignorant behavior on the part of my generational counterparts. At times I am thoroughly convinced some of them are the people who never felt the sting of a few love taps. Spankings aside, forms of discipline should come out of love. Whether it be spanking, grounding, or loss of privileges, parents who don't set up consequences for their children in some form or another are setting their kids up for failure. Eventually, we'll all be paying for it with our tax dollars.

Update: While perusing the web today, I came across this. Here we have a Christian on the complete opposite end of the corporal punishment spectrum. To each "hits" own I guess.

Reviews have not been good for Fox's latest attempt to ride the popularity of hip-hop culture. The new show stars current B-list rappers Method Man and Redman, portraying get this, two rich rappers (ingenious). Now that's deep. The show is centered around the "comedic" trials as these two move into an affluent white, suburban neighborhood. I know, you're probably wondering how they ever thought up such a creative storyline. This stuff just gets old.

According to Method Man, the show is not what he truly envisioned. A recent interview with the LA times revealed Method's true desire,

"I'm trying to keep this show ghetto, and there's a way for it to be both ghetto and intelligent...but it's not going that way."

Must. Restrain. Sarcastic. Comments. He continues,

"I hate the title because it locks both of us right in, rather than just calling it something like 'Two Guys in the 'Hood.' We've got a lot on the line here. I'm a musician. At the end of the day, if this show fails, all these other people can go on to other projects. We'd have to go back to where we came from, and they'd be saying, 'Oh, there goes Method Man and Redman, they went Hollywood.' Where are we going to go?"

Cry me a river. The show's premiere received fairly good ratings, thanks to that Soulplane brand of success. Some critics are calling the show "coonish". An accusation to which Method replies,

"We can't all be the Cosbys. There needs to be a yin and yang as far as what is shown of black people on television."

Earth to Method Man, Earth to Method Man, where are you? These people are not even on the same planet let alone the same page. Much to Method's dismay, the show's producers have laced it with hokey jokes and laugh tracks. And they believe this is the reason to blame for the show's potential failure? Someone please, shoot the horse. Estimated time on the air: two more months.

It just doesn't end. Please excuse my sarcasm...

These are the people who make me ashamed to be from the Pacific Northwest. Once again, citizens with nothing better to do are intent on making a national spectacle of themselves. Off the coast of Vancouver, British Columbia, a whale rescue is underway. The killer whale's name is Luna and apparently he's lost. First of all, whoever thought "Luna" was a masculine name needs to be fired. A group of people are attempting to "re-unite him with his pod". The action gets better. Native Indians of the Mowachat-Muchalaat have attempted to thwart the plans of Luna's captors. They believe Luna is the spiritual embodiment of a former chief who died just days before the whale showed up. THREE YEARS AGO. I respect this culture greatly, but no one ever said they were perfect. While scientists were trying to capture Luna, the natives canoed into the area and sang songs and called to him. Yeah okay. Songs. This is madness. Let's stop worshipping the animals people.

[click to enlarge] I am introducing a new aspect to my site. A comic strip. As much as I'd like to combat the evil quips of Aaron MacGruder's Boondocks, I'm just not that talented. However, it seems I have stumbled upon the same gem of do-it-yourself comic strip creation as my fellow brotherhood blogger Cobb. I only hope he won't call me a biter. For that reason, I'll use different characters. I've toyed with this idea for awhile. I needed a remedy to the numerous thinks that play out in my head yet due to time constraints, and this thing I have called a job, never make it to published format. So I present to you: CrazyWorld. A foray of students from varying backgrounds, all thrust into an elite private school bubble where the news dictates many conversations. Based loosely on my experiences in predominately white, semi-liberal institutions, I will introduce the characters and further the concept at a later date.

Joe at the Evangelical Outpost is asking why the blogosphere consists of so many white, middle-class men giving their opinion on politics. Just why did the chicken cross the road? Why doesn't Don King cut his hair? Why did O.J. do it? These are the mysteries of life. I am neither white nor male. I had to post my own picture to prove this since my thought process has been dubbed "white-male thinking" on more than one occasion. These days, however, it's pretty hard to tell what color anybody is on the web unless they say so or post a picture. Which often leads me to believe some of my favorite well-written blogs are really run by a group of red-headed, freckle faced 14-year-old boys in West Oklahoma.

Lots of people have been writing lately on why they started blogging. I wish I had something terribly deep or insightful to say to that question. A year ago, I had no clue what a "blog" was. Through some strange turn of events via a few clicks here and there, I was instantly thrown into the blogosphere, voyeuristically reading about the lives and opinions of other people who seemed to be just as insane as myself. Some conservative, others not. I'm not sure what possessed me to do so, but I finally started my own blog this past January. It wasn't to be know or seen, but because although I enjoyed writing, there was literally nothing in my mortal body that could bring pen to paper. I'm part of the digital generation, who hates writing in cursive and thanks to spell-check, can't even spell "definitely" correctly. (Note: prior to spell-checking this post, I'd spelled it wrong too. Case and point.) Unlike other sites, I'm less about reporting the news, and more about filtering this world through an ex-yuppified, somewhat sarcastic, black, staunch conservative yet non-traditional, young perspective. I have now staked out my little spot on the blogosphere lawn and I actually have some repeat readers. Which leads me to the next question of who exactly reads this tripe? Certainly not other 22-year-olds it seems. Just where are my people?

The Evangelical Outpost article listed off different categories of bloggers including some "Gen-Y" (under 25) bloggers. First of all, while we're on the subject, what is this Generation-Y drivel? Which overpaid sociologist made that up? I refute that name. Let's get something better. In any case, the article only listed off about six people or so under that category. When I go through my list of links, most of the people on there are older than me. It's pretty safe to say, most of my readers are too. How this happened, I just don't know. But I guess that's why I blog...

I despise commercial holidays. I hate how much money Hallmark makes on their ill-written, horribly hokey Father's Day cards. I stood in the card section for 30 minutes reading through scores of cards, trying to find one that wasn't dripping in sap. The only thing that could ever bring me to celebrate such a holiday is the tremendous father I have in my life. Every year my siblings and I seem to miss the mark in honoring him the way he deserves. One year we did a "Father's Day Rap", written by my mother of all people. I'm sure you can imagine the disaster that was. Thank the true and living God no one has that on tape. I'm sure Curtis Blow would've been proud.

Besides looking very good for his age (betcha couldn't guess how old), there are so many compliments I have to give my father. He will always get my respect for being the main person to support me when I "ruined my life" by leaving college. I call my dad the "Fix-it Man" because he could build a shopping mall with three bobby pins and a socket wrench. Who needs Macguyver when you have your very own fix-it-man? I've come to adore and love my father more now in my adulthood than I did in my youth. These days I realize what a gift it is to have him alive, present, and active in my life.

The thing I appreciate most about him, is that he raised me in such a way that set me up to relate properly to my heavenly Father. When I was a child, he taught me how to depend on him for everything from finances to guidance. These are the same things for which I now depend on God. Above all, I am thankful to have someone in my life who is comfortable being at the center of my ridicule. There's no one better in life to poke fun at than your own dad. Let's start with the grey hair in his eyebrows. Now that's hilarious. When I really want to annoy him, I begin to count them. Happy Father's Day Daddy.

The funeral service for the legendary Ray Charles took place today at the First African Methodist Episcopal Church in Los Angeles. There were of course many famous faces in attendance. Bill Cosby, Willie Nelson and Quincy Jones were there to name a few. Charles' son, Rev. Robert Robinson officiated the service and there were a host of tributes by musical greats including Stevie Wonder.

I didn't even realize he had been battling liver disease. Charles went blind at age six and overcame quite a bit to rise to level of respect and stardom at which he presently exists. It's amazing how you write these type of people off as being invincible. Charles' passing hit me by surprise. Then again, to everything there is a season.

Ray Charles will be sorely missed.

On different note, I'm off for the weekend. It's 85 degrees here in Seattle (a rarity so early in June) and I plan on making the most of it. This has been a hard week (although I've had it easier than some) and I need a little perspective. Other negative events gracing the news right now don't really need to be discussed here; even if it meant more web traffic. Otherwise, I'd be just like "them" (them being the bad news bears known as CNN, Fox News, and CBS among others). There are however, a host of very insightful and intelligent bloggers discussing the topic. I won't. People have linked to the pictures as well. I won't. But we all can pray. This place needs a little life right now. Enjoy the weekend everyone, and Happy Father's Day to those who are!

As Father's Day draws near, I am reminded of the fact that we make much less of a fuss around our fathers than we do our mothers. People joke about it all the time, making unsubstantiated claims like "Greeting card sales are higher on Mother's Day and lower on Fathers Day". I don't really have a hard time believing this is true because I too have been guilty of being entirely too cavalier about the third Sunday of the month. All too often I'm the one there at the mall the Saturday before Father's Day, at 7:00 pm with every other deadbeat child, scouring stores for the "perfect gift". Which usually ends up being not-so-perfect nor well thought-out. Meanwhile, I've gone to great lengths to make my mother feel special on her big day. Once while living in Connecticut, I even surprised her by flying in on Mother's day. I can say without a doubt, that fathers don't get their due.

I'd be fooling myself if I left out a major part of the equation being the fact that many people don't have their fathers in their life. When I go through my mental rolodex of some of my closest friends and colleagues, the majority of them either have a poor relationship with their father, or no relationship at all. Speaking in terms of the black community, statistically, the majority of young children will grow up without their father in the home. That's just the plain, sad truth. Last month there was a lot of discussion around an ad campaign run by the National Fatherhood Initiative, an organization working to:

"improve the well-being of children by increasing the proportion of children growing up with involved, responsible, and committed fathers.

I can't knock that. There is a need for more groups focused on this very issue. The ads that stirred the trouble began appearing on the sides of busses in Los Angeles County. A few of the ads read,

"Easter Bunny. Tooth Fairy. Daddy. Eventually kids stop believing in things they don't see."

"Each Night millions of Kids Go To Sleep Starving. For Attention from Their Dads."

"Dear Daddy, My Mommy Can't Be My Daddy Too."

Besides being grammatically incorrect, there's a lot more wrong with these ads. These particular phrases could be applied to anyone, but these ads featured pictures of young black children and clearly targeted black fathers. Glenn Sacks wrote in opposition to the ads and fellow blogger Baldilocks dropped some science regarding the lack of responsibility placed on the women who procreate with these absentee fathers. This issue is much more complex than child-support collectors would like to think.

The reality is, the whole idea of fatherhood needs to be restored. A "father" is not just an individual who released sperm on a hot night. A father is a function, a position, and role. There are people who have never produced their own biological children, yet they have fathered many. The fathering spirit comes to give instruction, set a child on the right path, and bring the "identity" that so many kids are missing these days.

For many reasons not worth going into, the position of "father" has lost much respect in certain cultures and communities. Much of this is the fault of fathers themselves. Yet, so many women downtalk their children's fathers these days, they too contribute to successfully warping young minds to be unappreciative of the concept of fatherhood altogether. It doesn't stop there. The breakdown of fatherhood can also be attributed to generational transfer. Many men struggle with knowing how or even wanting to be a father because they themselves didn't have a real father, nor did their father have a real father. It becomes a cyclical curse. One that must be broken.

The curse continues in the young people who through no fault of their own, grow up never having felt the love of a father, never received correction from a father, and never received instruction from a father. The fatherless generation doesn't often think they need a father. If you've ever tried to tell some of these knuckleheads on the block to pull their pants up, you'll see, this lack of appreciation spills out into all forms of authority. I don't blame them. Being raised without a father could give a person a sense of false independence. Coping mechanisms are a funny thing. And many fathers pick up on the fact that their presence is not needed. Based on my observations of the opposite sex, lack of appreciation doesn't usually bode well for the male ego.

All this said, personal responsibility reigns supreme in all this. Regardless of whether or not their presence is wanted, fathers must reconcile themselves to their children. That's something to which God will hold people accountable. We too as a community have a responsibility to ensure fatherless children have a father figure present in their lives.

The thing I love about God is that he is all-sufficient. He can be whatever you need Him to be. The absence of a biological father can be replaced by the presence of a Heavenly Father. We are also humans, and God created us to have relationship. Adults without their natural fathers have a responsibility to subject themselves to the guidance and direction of one with a fathering spirit. Fathering is not dispensable in our lives. We need it. It is an essential part of our development as people.

Fatherhood is like that old 1957 Cadillac that was beautiful in its prime, but is now in desperate need of being brought back to life through the process of restoration. If you've ever restored a car (or watched it being done), you'll know that the parts are more expensive and harder to come by, and it's going to take time and patience. The end result is a shiny new vehicle worth more now than it did in 1957.

If you're from my generation, you know that the departure of former Bad Boy rapper Mase from the music scene delivered a huge blow to the Puff Daddy empire. Mase cited "religious reasons" for leaving hip-hop altogether. Mase left music to go into ministry. For awhile he was a very prominent pastor down in the Atlanta area. How many times do we see this scenario? Every famous person who becomes a Christian somehow feels like they need to be become a preacher. Well, after three long years, Mase is back with an album titled Welcome Back due out this August. In a recent interview with the always credible MTV, Mase talks about the real reason why he left music. He said his style has not changed, but he will not be rhyming about sex and women, and his video girls won't be scantily clad. These are all things of his former days. mase recalls,

"We[we're] gonna teach the ladies they can still respect themselves and still be beautiful. That's what's up."

Mase was in town in Seattle a few weeks back to speak at a local church. Needless to say, it faltered for unclear reasons. This should be interesting to watch. All I have to say is, he better mind the company he keeps...

I don't presume to know much of anything about raising children, as I myself have never been a mother. I do however, consider myself to have reasonable amount of common sense and good judgment. That said, there are certain things I just don't understand.

Yesterday, I read an article about a Los Angeles woman, who after losing her 18-year-old son to a drug overdose on painkillers purchased via the internet, became a crusader for stricter law enforcement around drug/internet relations. She's claiming that if it hadn't been so easy for her son to buy vicotin on the internet, he wouldn't have overdosed.

Okay, yes, I realize this is a very sad and unfortunate situation, but let's not play the fool. Do you really expect anyone to think that this is the first time your son had experimented with drugs? News stories like this just remind me that we have work to do. This is the type of blame shifting that irks every bone in my body.

When something as tragic as this occurs, the first thing people jump to do is blame the government. Granted yes, the FDA could do a better job at a lot of things. But let's face it, they're wicked. So I wouldn't even bet my lunch money that anything fruitful will come out of her efforts. Plus, this is the world wide web we're talking about here. How on Earth do you intend to legislate what people are doing in Auckland, New Zealand and beyond? It is a pipe dream.

Somewhere in this equation, a parent lost perspective of their child. And yes, teenagers have their own mind, will and emotions. I know I had mine. The trouble is, we have a problem in this country. We don't like the words, "personal responsibility". In addition, the whole goal and aim of parenting seems to be distorted. If parenting is really about shaping, guiding and molding an infant into an adult, I'd say we are in great danger of having some terribly messed up adults walking around the Earth over the next twenty-five years.

It always amazes me how people disassociate themselves from the behavior of their children. It's as if their "children" are these autonomous beings who just so happen to have their DNA. When their five year-old utters a four-letter expletive, they look in horror as if to say, "how on Earth did you learn that word?" Duh, from you dummy, so clean up your language before you produce another potty-mouth such as yourself. Case and point. I'm grown and live on my own, and though I have great admiration for my mother, I fight every day not to be just like her. Usually my efforts are futile. Every morning, while completing my morning routine, I watch the Today Show. I do it every day and I have no valid reason as to why except to say, "because my mom did it". Kids are impressionable. No parent can afford to just sit back and let society raise their child.

But back to the things I don't understand. How can a boy be building a bomb in his bedroom and his parents not know about it? We have all read the interviews or heard the news reports. These aloof parents go on national television and say things like, "We just didn't know he was into that kind of stuff". Please. Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, the murderers from the attack at Columbine High School, somehow managed to have parents completely oblivious of their thorough and well thought out plans to kill their entire school. To be completely honest, I used to chalk this up to the "rich, white suburb mentality"; something I made up to help myself cope with dwelling amongst some of my troubled classmates in high school. These are the same classmates whose parents bought them alcohol for parties under the premise of "I'd rather have them doing it around me than somewhere else". It was under this same premise, that they allowed all kinds of madness to take place under their roof. There were guys whose parents let their girlfriends spend the night in their bedrooms. According to some parents, sex under their roof is better than sex on the school roof. I was fully convinced "my people" just didn't do things like this. After all, none of my black friends parents actually bought them liquor. I now realize, this was a very ignorant judgment call. The downfall of parenting has less to do with color than I first thought.

Bill Cosby's comments about lower-class black parents failing to hold up their end of the bargain were only the beginning. In lower-class neighborhoods, it manifests itself as working parents struggling to make ends meet, and leaving the television and crappy after school drop-off centers to baby-sit their kids. For them, education often takes a back seat to material things. As a result, gang activity, teenage pregnancy, drugs, violence, and low test scores can be inevitable. As so many pundits have come on record to state, this is not always the case. There are parents who despite their circumstances have made their children a priority in every way they know how. I salute them. They are probably responsible for raising some of the upstanding citizens we call our leaders today.

One of the biggest mistakes we've made in examining this whole issue of bad parenting is that we've only applied it to a specific cross-section of the population. You see, the above example is not that much farther from what you might see in many upper-class families. It translates a bit differently, but the through line is there. Instead, you get horribly twisted teenagers taking part in all kinds of jail-worthy activity via the internet and teenage pregnancies we never hear about because they're aborted. Caveat: don't be fooled for one moment to think that teenage pregnancy is a bigger problem in urban communities than suburban. I can't tell you how many rich white girls I knew in high school who had multiple abortions. It's all in the cover-up.

I once read about a mother who said that she had no idea her 14-year-old daughter was six months pregnant. Just what type of hypothetical dream world are we in here? When my mom was growing up, her mother kept track of all five of her sisters' menstrual cycles (sorry to be so graphic) on the back of the laundry detergent box. Now that's an involved parent. And you mean to tell me you can't figure out that your adolescent daughter is pregnant? I just don't get it.

I think sometimes people act as though children are some curse thrown into their lives to make them miserable. Don't be mistaken. It's tough. But what were they expecting, a Sunday brunch? If so, then they were entertaining illusions of grandeur because from what I'm told, parenting is one of the hardest jobs a person could ever have.

I am convinced that some people should have just gone to Toys 'R Us and bought a "Baby Feels So Real" to get that "baby-bug" out of their system. I hear it "poops" and "pees" too. This is a rough climate, and we need some parents who are going to do their job, even if it means sacrifice. A good step in that direction would be for parents to start taking more personal responsibility when it comes to the rearing of their children. Who knows, maybe I just need more compassion.

According to this article by Dick Pettys, it seems that more blacks than ever are running as Republicans in the state of Georgia. Petty reports,

"A record 14 black Republican candidates are seeking legislative seats...More black Republicans are running for office in Georgia this year than ever before, and black candidates in other Southern states are also finding that declaring for the GOP is more accepted than it was just a few years ago."

This is of course a welcomed turn of events for the Republican party. In my home state, Washington, it would be a record just to have 14 Republican candidates. Period. Forget skin color. Although I doubt blacks will be running to the polls to vote "GOP" en masse, it is certainly telling that the tides are slowly shifting as more blacks realize the Democratic party once familiar to the civil rights movement has gone off the moral deep end. Black people have commonly voted Democrat, but have been historically conservative on key issues. GOP pollster Whit Ayres notes however,

"But if you can move the percentage of blacks who vote Republican from 5 percent to 15 percent, you will change the outcome of a lot of close Southern elections."

The author of the article cites hope for improving economics of black households as one of the main reasons Southern black s are abandoning the Democratic Party. If Atlanta, a notably black mecca of flourishing businesses and families, is any indication of how Goergia's doing economically, I say Georgia's on to something.

Apparently, I'm Not Myself
So there are people who read this website that actually know me in person. I have been told that the picture on my author page is not indicitive of my true personality. So to appease said individual, I have put together a brief photo montage taken via my very new and very handy digital cam (which by the way spells huge trouble for the future of this website).

Note: for this special occasion, I have donned what my friends affectionately call my "nerd hat". Try to control your laughter. Click Here.

Lakers Get Spanked
Now I must reserve this space for some carnal gloating on behalf of the champion Detroit Pistons. All I have to say is, victory is sweet. Beating Kobe Bryant is sweeter. I can't think of a better team to massacre the sissy-boy Lakers. As an aside, I'd also like to note that somebody needs to get Gary Payton in a Dale Carnegie class. He hasn't changed since he left the Sonics.

...and that's all I have to say about that.

Who knew there were so many? A few weeks back, I started my running list called Tools of the 21st Century, of what I feel are the most trite and self-serving non-profit organizations on the planet. As promised, the list continues, and not without thanks to one reader who noted another org deserving to be on my list. I guarantee there will be a part three:

The American Civil Liberties Union
Just where do we begin? Founded in 1920, the ACLU calls themselves the "nation's guardian of liberty", keeping America "safe and free". This is by the way, a position no one ever asked them to take, more a self-appointed duty. They have perfected the art of manipulating the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. In the name of "civil liberties" they are strategically breaking down whatever traditional values may be left. Speaking of "left", the ACLU professes to be non-partisan in all their dealings. Yeah, and so is Michael Moore. I'd like to see the books on that claim. Seems to me, they've endorsed just about every Democratic candidate possible. If there is an organization with the potential for more foolishness than the NAACP, it'd be the ACLU. Their slew of lawyers handle an average of 6,000 cases every year, going to bat against all things moral and righteous. This organization has probably single-handedly done more to promote moral decay in America by blurring the distinction between "rights" and "responsibilities" and replacing truth with their atheist and humanist agenda. From the Jesse Jackson school of politics, they use intimidation to win their court cases by playing on the flaky conscience of Americans who buy-in to the "protecting liberties" propaganda because they themselves have no moral grounding or throughline. This organization is a wolf in sheep's clothing, a lie masquerading in truth's clothing, and as my mother would say, "a hot mess". It's time to expose the foolishness.

North American Man/Boy Lovers Association
Make no qualms about it. NAMBLA is just plain wicked. You don't have to pray about it, research it, or even be half-way intelligent to come to this realization. This is an organization who essentially defines pedophilia as a natural and misunderstood part of life. They must be Freudians at heart. Word to the wise, when NAMBLA endorses a political candidate, for the love of Lord crying out in the night, do not vote for that candidate! Red flag people; off-sides, error, technical foul. NAMBLA's goal is to "end the extreme oppression of men and boys in mutually consensual relationships by educating the general public on the benevolent nature of man/boy love." "Oppressive" doesn't even begin to describe this hedonistic philosophy. I don't usually talk about candidates for hell, but if there ever were some people most likely to "burn", NAMBLA members would surely be on that list. This organization is spewing sickening madness and it wouldn't be such a concern if it didn't involve the well-being of innocent children. Anyone who even considers the agenda this organization is pushing needs psychological help. Let it also be known that the ACLU has gone to bat on more than one occasion for the rights of this organization. Need I say more?

The Sierra Club
This organization has championed a number of hot issues, among them, global warming, clean water, and protecting forests. The Sierra Club has a great deal of influence in the political arena. Now I'm all for protecting the Earth. It's personifying the Earth that I just can't get with. These yuppie tree huggers are terribly confused. Above all, the top issue that puts this organization on my list is their stance on world population. Sierra Club members are among the many that are convinced the world is about to explode from overpopulation. For this reason, they believe the environment is in danger of being over stressed. This is one of the biggest lies being taught in global studies courses across the world. They have somehow managed to link abortion rights and family planning with environmental protection. This theory of "overpopulation" is really just a cause for these organizations to go around to third world countries, providing what they call "optional family planning". This is where I draw the line. Instead of taking responsibility for being poor stewards over the Earth, we attribute the food shortage to "too many people" and start "hacking" them off via abortions and sterilization. I just don't buy it.

March of Dimes
Here we have an organization that may have started out with a pure purpose however has now entered the dark side of nonprofits. March of Dimes began in an efforts to cure polio in babies. Seems like a worthy cause, however, considering my feeling about organizations centered around cures, this still makes them vulnerable to poor decisions. Since then, the organization has morphed into a "life-saver" of babies. Or so they say. Their mission states that they have helped to "Save millions of babies from death and disability". Today, it is well known that the March of Dimes has some unsettling involvement in the abortion industry. In an essay exposing the ties, an anonymous author wrote "MOD was one of the major forces behind the development and widespread use of amniocentesis in the second trimester of pregnancy. Amniocentesis is a test commonly used to determine if a preborn child has an incurable congenital abnormality, which often facilitates the decision to abort 'defective' children." One of the most pressing issues to be addressed in the 21st century is the value placed on human life. There are far too many influential nonprofit organizations that have a vested interest in the success of the abortion industry. This is not something anyone should view nonchalantly.

Anti-Defamation League
I'll approach this one with kid gloves. The ADL is what I call the Jewish counterpart to the NAACP. Colored people unite! Like the NAACP, they beat the air until people start ignoring them. The only trouble is, it's a lot harder to ignore our Jewish brethren; especially those who run more than half of Hollywood, so the ADL is a lot more powerful than its weaker, sillier, kid brother. The ADL really showed its true colors this past year when the Passion of the Christ was released. They made us all aware of just how far they were willing to go to push an agenda. I do not refute that the United States is guilty of anti-Semitism on many levels. As a Christian, I recognize the Biblical importance of the Jewish Heritage in the Messianic sense, but the ADL does not view themselves in that light. They have sought to strengthen the wall between the separation of church and state by rallying for school prayer to be removed (go figure?) and stricter guidelines placed on any sort of religion being taught in the classroom. Of course, "religion" being a broad topic, the emphasis in their position is generally against Christianity. The ADL has historically sided with far liberal and anti-God policy. Not only is the ADL a tool, they are rather conflicting if you ask me.

Every now and then, it strikes me how warped our perception of race and ethnicity is in this country. Here we call people of color "minorities" when in actuality the application of that term ceases to be true in the United States. From a larger perspective however, I often wonder how it is that others call me a "minority" when the majority of the rest of the world has melanin closer to my shade. Granted, it's often hard to see past our own borders. We're all guilty of tunnel vision on some level. I've had the awesome privilege of traveling quite extensively out of the country and it has certainly changed my perspective greatly.

All of my siblings and I have been to Africa at some point in our lives. As a "rite-of-passage" on our thirteenth birthdays, my parents took us on a trip to an African country. I chose Ghana. I'd always grown up with many friends who had Bar or Bat Mitzvahs, so I understood the importance of the "rite-of-passage concept". In fact, I think this is something we lack greatly in the body of Christ. My parents wanted to expose us to the reality that there were many people around the world who looked just like us, and were important contributing members of society. Traveling was also an opportunity to expose us to the "God of the nations". My biggest admonision for international travel is to see the expansiveness and diversity of God's people. To recognize that God wasn't "American" radically changed my life. In fact, it was on a trip to Zimbabwe when I was sixteen that I had my life powerfully transformed by the Holy Spirit. Although our society would put a label on me, one of the biggest and best gifts my parents ever gave me was to show me that I was no minority.

The "minority" mentality is one that has plagued many here in the US. It's the mentality that thinks they are alone in their situation; that they need handouts from the government. It's the mentality that doesn't believe in the ability to rise past adversity. It's a mentality that is causing more detriment to our society than ever imagined. The "minority mentality" is not one just held by certain people of color, but there are white people who have also succumbed to the "I am a product of my environment" philosophy.

We have all heard the excuses many times, "We were poor" or "I came from a broken home" or "My neighborhood was racist". Meanwhile, the average immigrant sees the potential in this country and comes here to rise past "adversity" to owning their own businesses, graduating from top schools, and establishing a family legacy. People who are not born in America can recognize what's possible in a country with so much opportunity. So what's our excuse? The truth is, there is none. Without a vision the people perish or self-destruct. America is the land of the free and the home of the blame. Here we litigate everything from spilled coffee on a lap to emancipating kids from their parents. One would think Americans originated the "blame somebody else" mentality since we will do anything to shift the blame and not take personal responsibility.

This "virtual" sense of "isolation" really serves no other purpose except to be an excuse for lack of productivity. If people can convince themselves that they have it "worse" than every other person in the hemisphere, then they can talk themselves out of any success in life. So what happens when two kids who grew up in the same poor neighborhood end up at opposite ends of the spectrum in life? When one kid becomes successful and the other remains destitute, where does the fault lie? Circumstances cannot override personal choice. The person who chooses to break out of whatever limitations may have been placed on them will always be successful.

Everyone has within them the capacity to break out, however our system has successfully warped the minds of so many people to think it is impossible. This is the real oppression against which we should be fighting. This is the mental bondage that has kept people thinking there is nothing greater for them in this life.

I'm not going to even begin to talk about the depths of low-ness and improper self-perception that would cause someone to resort to such self-loathing behavior as cross-dressing. I'm not going to write about how our society has tricked people into thinking that God made a mistake when they were born with penises instead of vaginas, or how we validate peoples' gender confusion via secular humanistic philosphies. I won't mention how gender identity is now a "protected class" against which most companies are not allowed to discriminate, or how the average seventh grader's "life skills" textbook includes a whole chapter on what to do when Billy wants to be Suzy. But what I will say is this:

If you are going to dress like a woman, please do us justice. Do not presume to just throw on a dress and call it a day. If your goal was to look like a football player in drag, then you've successfully achieved your goal. The least you could do is pick a dress that looks half-way decent and not that frock from the bargain bin. Whether it's red, purple or fushia, no matter what color you paint your toes, they are still gross and hairy, and they still look like man feet. Lastly, unless you intend on co-opting the entire menstruation process via osmosis, you don't exactly qualify for the high-heels or the make-up. You don't get lipstick without cramps. You can't have toe nail polish without a uterus. This spectacle you have created of yourself is a disgrace to us all. Please stop this foolishness lest you be "ruffed up" by some gun-toting woman on estrogen.

My word. Ray Charles died today at age 73. These things are indicators of time. People you thought would always be around pass on and I'm once again reminded that time waits for no one. I'm way too young to talk about the "good 'ole days", but I will always remember Mr. Charles' Pepsi commercial a la "You got the right one baby!" Uh huh.

Sometimes you forget, people really are that ignorant. La Shawn Barber has an interesting discussion going on in her comments section about afroscentricism; a philosophy whereby black people are put at the center and root of all things; a philosophy with which I also happen to disagree. But that's not really my issue. What prompted me to write was not the post (which was good by the way), but the comments. Mike wrote:

Yes, white people made this country. There are many reasons for that, not the least of which was slavery. Blacks were not allowed to get an education. Therefore, they had little impact.

Those that did were always celebrated. Frederick Douglass, Booker T. Washington, and MLK. But there is no reason to celebrate someone simply because they were black and did something notable. Many people of all races did something notable, and there is little room in textbooks to discuss everyone. Often those who are covered are granted space simply because they were "the first black" or "the first woman" to do something.

Let's celebrate accomplishment, not skin color.

Oh yes he did. Go. There. I can't give this any more energy than it's worth, but I thought I'd post it so I can go back into my archives and read it one of these days when I need some motivation. I will say this: as pagan as they were, there were some other folks here before the white man. We don't really talk about them too often. But enough about that. What did catch my interest was the proposition of another commenter going by the name of "Frank" who wrote:

Afrocentrism? Give me a break.

What Black American child really gives a d**n about "African Culture?" They are Americans. This stuff is only for the self-indulgence of the teachers.

More useful would be teaching Classical literature, with an elective on Black Americans who have "made it" in spite of Jim Crow etc..These are some of the finest Americans and should be role models - not preachers who can only bleat out loud about "social justice" but not get much done.

Someone was kind enough to step in and gently correct dear Frank with facts proving that indeed black kids do give a hoot about African Culture. But this whole thing of Classical Literature is what got me. We should only be teaching kids classical literature? Yeah, okay.

When I recall my days of history and english classes, most of the books we read that were classified as "Classical Literature" were usually dry, circular arguments written by crusty, old, white men. This doesn't discount the fact that there are dry, circular arguments written by crusty, old, black men too; we were just never forced to read those books. Lord knows it would have been a nice change, but I digress. I do assume that said individual realizes "Classical Literature" is actually a very narrow group of elite books, many of which will always conjure up the sensation of dry heaving by former high school english students everywhere. I don't discount all Classical Literature, as the philosophies of many classical writers have shaped our culture today. My problem is less with the "category" and more with the fact that a good half of classical authors were raving lunatics while the rest were mostly strung out on some form of narcotics, namely, cocaine. And these are the people from whom we gain "great insight"? I remember being the only one in my class to even remotely find fault in the teachings of Freud. What was that he wrote about Man/Boy/Mother/Lovers? Everyone else seemed fine with the fact that this guy should have been committed from day one.

Some of the absolute worst books I've read in my entire life would fit into the category of "Classical Literature". I never quite understood it, but at some point in history, many classical authors were proverbially "knighted" and now we think the sun shines out of their rotting backsides. How many countless students must we torture by dragging them through Charles Dickens' Great Expectations? It's just not right I tell you. But back to this required reading thing. Throughout most of my history classes, I drudged my way through Calvin, Hobbs, Marx, Hamilton, Tolstoy, and later Zinn to name a few. It was all ghastly boring, and much of it didn't make sense. Life only got more confusing. Around my senior year in high school, I was introduced to existentialist thought or existentialism via 75% of the authors we were forced to read in english class. If you're not familiar with existentialism, I suggest you become so since it has infiltrated much of how people think today including but not limited to the morally relativistic creed. By definition, existentialism is

"A 20th-century philosophy which holds that humans must live their lives without any absolute values or divine laws. Many existentialists believe that since there is no guarantee of human worth or dignity, and no such thing as "human nature," humans have complete freedom to define humanity and a painful ethical responsibility to do so."

Or translated into my modern-day terms: foolishness. But I like this definition better:

"Existentialism is the title of the set of philosophical ideals that emphasizes the existence of the human being, the lack of meaning and purpose in life, and the solitude of human existence. Existentialism maintains existence precedes essence: This implies that the human being has no essence, no essential self, and is no more that what he is. He is only the sum of life is so far he has created and achieved for himself. Existentialism acquires its name from insisting that existence precedes essence. "

Or in other words: foolishness.

There were classical authors who wrote entirely from the premise that life lacked meaning and purpose. You mean to tell me that these people have something great to offer the next generation? Kafka, Camus, Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, & Barth were all famous existentialist thinkers and they birthed many more after them. We've got some re-examining to do on how and what we teach in this country, because I don't think we've got it right yet. Before we start assigning electives, can we recognize that the foundation still needs some ironing out?

At least once a day, I look in the mirror. This is less about narcissism and more about personal hygiene. For this reason alone I would hope we all take a look at least once. There are however, days when I am fully convinced some people don't. But I digress. Perhaps the biggest jump-start to my day is the fact that when I look in the mirror, I like what I see. Not only do I like it, I love it. I've always been a pretty confident person. With the exception of some terribly awkward teenage years (which included braces, pimples, and feet bigger than my arms), I have always been comfortable in my own skin. From the time I was very young, I would sit on the bathroom sink and stare into the mirror. This ritual took place at least once a month. I would examine every crevice of my face while constantly reciting in my head, "I am me...I am me...I am me". This probably sounds bizarre, but it was quite revelatory for me. I became completely fascinated with the fact that I was a complete original. I would mentally scan all the countries I could remember from geography class to put this fact into proper perspective and I was blown away every time.

For much of my childhood, I led a compartmentalized life. My day job included attendance at a predominately white school. I learned to cope. I'd never known anything different so it wasn't too hard. The rest of my life took place in the predominately black neighborhood in which my parents chose to raise us, my predominately black church, dance classes, track meets, and other extra-curricular activities. I got the best of "both worlds" so to speak. It sounds simple but it really wasn't at all.

Attending an all-white school while the rest of my friends were in more racially diverse public schools often put me at the center of ridicule and in a perpetual state of proving my "blackness" (instead of "blackness" insert whatever stereotype you should be fulfilling). If you've ever tried this, you know it will turn you into a schizophrenic loony.

To make matters worse, my family lived in Seattle while all our other relatives lived in the South and on the East Coast. Here in the Northwest, we have a tendency to over-articulate our words. It's just the dialect I suppose. But to family members, it seemed we spoke "proper". Add this to the fact that I was a ballerina and a good student, and you get a highly conflicted childhood. This would explain my phase in eighth grade where I wore baggy, over-sized jeans, a huge FILA coat and a baseball cap turned to the side. Let us never speak of that again.

When I got to college, instead of living in the freshman dorms, I chose theme housing where I occupied "Malcolm X House" along with 30 or so other students of varying origins of black descent. I could deal with staying in X's namesake because living with all black students was my way of reconciling the fact that I'd declined acceptance to Howard University and Spelman College, both historically black schools.

I will admit, I made some great friends, but even there I was different; not because of race or background, but because of my moral standard. When everybody was out drinking, I was the one in the dorm, blasting gospel music and having a party of my own. By the time I was done with that place, everybody knew who the Cross Movement was. I never had guys in my room with the door shut, I walked around fully clothed, and was the only one up for church on Sunday morning. These seem like small things, but in college, this set me apart from the crowd. Sure there were a few dormies who went with me a couple of times to church, but 9 times out of 10, I had the whole bathroom to myself on Sunday mornings. My decisions in college earned me respect in the eyes of my friends. Trust me when I say, I don't pat myself on the back for doing what I felt I should've done.

Even today, I think very differently from much of my family and friends. Some people will read my words and discount them because I'm only 22. I'm not a member of a political party, I'm just me. There was a time when I would shrink back, but those days are over. Being a manpleaser is no life at all. It's the people that don't care what others think that are the real dangerous ones. Those are the people I look up to. I desire to be one of those people. Lorraine Hansberry wrote the play To Be Young, Gifted and Black on the struggle for equality, but more on the state of the human condition. I snag her title on behalf of all those who are young, gifted and whatever. And there are many of us (after all, young is relative). I just don't think some people are comfortable enough to walk in its fullness. Once in college, it was the first day of my "African American Politics" class taught by one of those name dropping professors who say insecure things to establish their credibility like, "So the other day I was on the phone with Condoleeza Rice and let me tell you, she's more arrogant than you think." Well, on this first day, the professor asked a couple of people to raise their hand and give her a brief definition of "who they were". Hands shot up across the room as over-zealous brown-nosers sought to make a name for themselves. The first to respond called himself, "a Queer, White, New-Englander". Nice. Interestingly enough, none of those things told us much about who he really was. The descriptors went on, "Chubby, Atheist, Liberal" and so on. Every single person who raised their hand managed to attach a false, surface, or socially engineered term to themself. Sad, but somehow I don't think anyone knew any different.

When I walk into high schools, it's like wading through a sea of insecurity. Kids dumb themselves down to fit in with the crowd. Guys play macho because they don't know what it means to be a man. Girls are scantily clad because true womanhood is far gone. We don't have crime problems, we have identity problems.

What is it about certain black men, who so hate themselves, that they go out searching for some one who looks just like them to kill? How have certain black women arrived at such a low place of self worth, that "we" would subject ourselves to be sexual objects to men? It is not just a black issue. It is a human issue. It's the question of identity and knowing the original intent for our lives.

Give somebody something without telling them its purpose and they're bound to abuse it somehow. I don't believe in peer pressure. I never have and never will. I say this as someone who has "given-in" to groupthink on more than one occasion. People who are swayed by popular opinion or the "lemming mentality" are simply people who aren't quite grounded in who they have been created to be.

Identity can only be found in one place: that is the Potter who molded us in the first place. Tapping into that is where true liberty is found. And while we live in a culture that would seek to give us a short cut to our indentity through media messages and social institutions, it's all really just to pacify the latent potential resident in every person who becomes comfortable with who they truly are. I would fear that day. Because then maybe we'd see some true originality instead of this watered down thing we call "society".

Did the benediction of the state ceremony at the Capitol rotunda in honor of former President Reagan just include words from the song "Day by Day" (as lifted from the musical Godspell)? It's Meet the Parents re-lived:

Day by Day, to see thee more clearly, to love thee more dearly, to follow thee more nearly, day by day

Good heavens we need to get into our Bibles people! Surely we can do better than song lyrics.

Last night I sat through a 4-hour graduation. The only thing that made it even partly enjoyable was that is was the rite of passage of my own sister, Amelia Juliet (pictured to the left of me). She will hate that I posted this picture in which we both look horrendously aloof and unkept and she was pulling on my hair so I look like I have no neck but oh well, it's all I have. I would like to publicly say congratulations to her for braving what I believe are four of the most terrential years of a person's scholastic life (if you go to private school). Private school completely ruins the entire high school experience. Forget football games and cheerleaders. It's all about SAT's, term papers and college applications. You couldn't pay me any amount of money to go back and repeat the homework hell that was high school.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have been worse than my high school graduation. It had to have been the most boring event to take place in my entire scholastic career (even worse than physics lectures). If you can, imagine watching white paint dry. This was my graduation.

Prep school commencement is less about the students and more about the endowment. There's a whole lot of fanfare, faculty speakers, and kissing up to the board of trustees. I couldn't even tell you what was said during those three gut-wrenching hours and I'm the one who gave the valediction! Now I do remember most of my speech because much to my suprise, the unpopular message on "purpose and identity" (in which I managed to knock both Oprah and Gary Zukav) I delivered was actually widely received. That could have been because my classmates were just happy to have somebody with some energy grace the podium.

Even my charismatic musings could not save the ceremony. Everyone was waiting for one moment. The moment of all moments. The presentation of the diplomas. This is were the action happens.

Why do scholastic institutions make people wait until the very last hour to receive the one document everyone is there to receive? While riding to my sister's graduation with my family, I proposed a solution to the historically dry nature of graduation ceremonies: start off the commencement by awarding all the students their diplomas. They then exit the premesis to do what every sane person who just completed a mass of thesis papers and finals would want to do: party. Then the parents, family members and friends can sit around and listen to the boring and cliche speeches on finding your own path and making the world a better place.

When my mother graduated with her Doctorate I was only 12 or so, but the ceremony was so long, I actually thought I was going to die. In fact, I think I did a couple of times. From high school all the way up to graduate school, graduation ceremonies have a long history of being drab and boring.

When the months of May and June roll around I start getting white envelopes in the mail. I already know what they are. They are promises that at least 15% of the month will be spent in boring graduation ceremonies. Last night was different. Those four hours were actually interesting. This is because my sister graduated from an "arts school" and artsy people are notoriously "diifferent". Then again, so it my sister.

Thank you Amelia for being you. It was one of the best graduations I've ever been to. And I've been to many.

It's been awhile since any single commentary has sparked this much controversy in the black intellectual community. My experience with my personal colleagues has proved that most blacks, including my own family are pretty divided on whether Cosby was in the right or wrong for his now widely famous "pound-cake speech".

I say, it really doesn't matter if what he said was right or wrong. The fact is, he said it. And that's far more powerful and prolific than our mamby-pamby commentary and opinion on what he said. In fact, most black writers' articles in response to Cosby's words say the number one thing that Cosby did wrong was actually say what many have long been thinking in a public forum.

Even William Jelani Cobb's whiny criticism of Dr. Cosby managed to begin with,

"...the comedian has been praised by white conservatives and black folk at large for essentially keeping it real. For airing dirty laundry. For saying in public what your uncle Bobby has been saying behind closed doors for years."

Christopher John Farley of Time magazine wrote an article where he too remarked,

"There are still certain things some black people won't talk about in front of some white people. American culture may be seemingly more integrated than, say, 50 years ago, but cultural walls remain. Racial issues, in multiracial company, are often circled until they are impossible to ignore and have to be discussed; blacks, when there are only other blacks around, often cut to the chase...Last month, Bill Cosby broke the unwritten rule of keeping black dirty laundry in black washing machines."

This may be all and well, but the dirty laundry was bound to start smelling at some point or another. The biggest problem has long been that no one ever bothered to add any soap and water to the washing machine. So instead, the dirty laundry just sat there untouched and the stains set in. Cleaning up this mess is going to take more work than it would have if we started earlier.

I knew Cosby's words hit hard when major newspapers were slow to pick up the story as Matt Rosenberg of Rosenblog so eloquently pointed out late last week, "...there was a bit of a curious silence from most print-media outlets. It was mainly talk radio and a host of bloggers". When you mix controversial comments about black people made by a prominent black figure, in front of a prominent (and influential) black organization, you have a sticky situation.

I am convinced that many white writers have been slow to comment on the story because they wanted to see what "we'd" say first. To be white and speak critically about anything pertaining to the black community in this country is like roller-skating blindfolded through a field of landmines.

Although I find it interesting that no "real" transcript has been published, the Washington Post has made available the audio version of the speech. Thus far, the Charlotte observer has published the most extensive quotes from Cosby's speech. All this aside, as silent as the critics may seem, most everyone I've spoken with has something to say about Cosby's comments. It is safe to say that many black folks were not too pleased.

The aftermath of the controversial speech has left much of the black intellectual community dissecting rhetoric and the rest in silly, irrational, defensive mode. Although most in the black community would admit that Cosby's words were true, many wouldn't let him get off that easily. The week following Cosby's comments was laced with people calling the speech "classist" and "stereotyping" among other things. The knee-jerk reaction of many blacks was to flip the script and point the finger at Cosby instead of focusing on what he said.

People wrote about how Cosby should have been placing more blame on the governmental structures for not supporting lower-class blacks. Doesn't that negate the whole idea of personal responsibility? Perhaps that's just the soft spot Cosby hit with his comments. A large percentage of the American people have a strong aversion to the words "personal responsibility". Instead of bucking up, we'll change the subject or dilute its potency by shifting responsibility