Please pray while you are here!

I knew something was up when I went to my favorite soul food spot in the Reading Terminal yesterday, and the line was damn near out the door. Then I took notice of the folks standing in line, and I knew for sure that I had walked smack into the middle of a convention crowd.

My friends, it seems the National Baptist Convention is in Killadelphia this week for their annual meeting. Please believe that we are happy to have them. From all estimates, at least thirty thousand souls have descended on our city, and they will pump over 37 million dollars into our local economy. Unlike when those young rowdy Greeks come on our fair city, the white folks are saying, HALLELUJAH! Nothing like the cha ching of the cash register to bring folks together.

By all accounts we are rolling out the red carpet for my church going friends. I sure hope they brought their prayer books and bibles with them. Lord knows we could use some religion around here. Some serious praying might be the only thing that can help us now that the devil has just taken over the place. I mean 290 murders and counting. I wonder if these poor folks know that they are in the middle of Gomorrah?

All those nice hats, and pretty bright suits, and gators. Boy these Baptist sure know how to dress. I hope they can pray as well as they dress. If they can, maybe our city might get a real spiritual blessing from their visit.

But then I thought about it. Aren't lots of those delegates and members from places like Newark, Detroit, and New Orleans? And sadly, the last time I checked, those cities aren't doing much better than we are.

The merchants around here must have been praying too, and it sure looks like their prayers were answered. These folks are buying everything in sight, and they all sure look like they are having a good time. But I can't help but wonder, as I watch my church friends go up and down Center City in their nice suits, dresses, and hats. If Jesus himself decided to come to the National Baptist Convention, would they even notice? I doubt it, cause I bet you can't get really nice gators in heaven.

Eddie and the "N" word

I was going to just make Eddie Griffin's stupid ass my house Negro of the day. But then I had too much to say to squeeze it all into my side bar.

It seems that Eddie was dropping the "N" word a bit too much for the folks from "Black Enterprise Magazine, and Earl Graves himself came on stage after Mr. Coon got the hook. (You know Earl don't you? He is the guy with the funny side burns) Now all this begs the question: just why the hell did they invite this walking minstrel show to do a stand up routine? Didn't they see any of his movies? Sometimes I really have to wonder about black folks. Do you mean to tell me that they could not have found a G rated comic who also happened to be funny, to perform? Or couldn't they have gotten a singer or some shit? I am sure quite a few very good musical acts would have performed for less than what Eddie Griffin charged them.

I blame Eddie Griffin for being ignorant, but I also blame the folks at Black Enterprise for not being smart enough to get another act as well. It reminds me of what my Catholic friends at Vanilla-nova University did recently, when they hired a comic named Steve Trevino. According to the University, Mr Trevino was so raunchy and insensitive, that they had to cut his act short. So Vanilla-nova, like the folks at Black Enterprise, deserve to be called out for not thinking of their audience first.

And for the record, I don't even support this "N" word ban. You just can't ban a fucking word! Should we use it so indiscriminately? Of course not. But should an artist be able to use it in a song, a play, a movie, or whatever? Of course they should. (Well, as long as it's a black artist) So you ban the word, do you think some racist white folks won't be saying nigger around the dinner table to their kids? Give me a break. You cannot ban or bury a word. Let's just teach our kids to respect themselves and their race. If they are young men, to respect their women, that's a start. I promise you if we were bringing up this generation of kids the way we should be doing it, we would not need to be talking about banning the "N" word. They would be just as turned off by the word as we are. Let's stress proper education, so that they will have more words in their vocabulary than nigger this, and nigger that. Because we all know what the kids, and those so inclined to use the word, are saying about this "N" word ban right. "Yeah, those niggers are crazy. Talkin bout banning a damn word, they can kiss my black ass." That's what they are saying, and will continue to say until they know better.

Now unfortunately, Eddie Griffin is one of those Negroes, and thankfully the Black Enterprise people cut his performance short. But there is one thing I know that wasn't short, and that was Eddie's check. Because thanks to people like the folks at Black Enterprise, that "nigger" is rich.

Oh, and before I forget, a note about the Black Weblog Awards. I would like to thank every one of my field Negro friends who voted for me, and made it possible for this site to win the popular vote for best political/news blog.

This sounds corny, but everyone who comments on this site deserves that award. Because honestly, some of you are deeper, and much more eloquent than I could ever be.

So thanks for coming to my site, and giving it some real gravitas. Because you and I both know that my bullshit alone wouldn't cut it.

Another field Negro found

Good afternoon field Negro. Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to share interesting articles by fellow field Negroes with the readers of your blog. These types of articles can help them to understand, that they are not the only field Negroes out here trying to square modern day America with its history.

Below is an editorial written by a field Negro named Harold Jackson. Copy it, paste it, and publish it on your blog for all the world to see. As usual, If any of your readers happen to be sell outs, or house Negroes in disguise, you must disavow any knowledge of their presence.

Fortunately, and thanks to the power of the world wide web, this article will not self destruct in five seconds.

By Harold Jackson
Inquirer Columnist

"The man who tried to assassinate George Wallace will soon be free after spending 35 years in a Maryland prison.

Arthur Bremer could be released before December because of time earned for good behavior. The announcement last week ignited a flood of memories for me.

Wallace was shot in a suburb near Washington while running for president in 1972. About three months later, the racist governor of Alabama was brought to a Birmingham hospital where I had a summer job.

Spain Rehabilitation Center was known nationally for its work with spinal-cord-injury victims. Bremer's bullets had left Wallace paralyzed and forced him to abandon his presidential campaign.

I had one of those make-work summer jobs for college students, and had been assigned to the audiology/speech pathology lab run by Dr. Samuel Fletcher. I mostly ran errands, and Dr. Fletcher taught me to do some simple statistical calculations for a cleft-palate study.
Wallace was at Spain a week or so, I think. Every employee had to get new photo security cards before his arrival. But few of us were allowed into the same area when he was receiving physical therapy.

One day it was announced that a reception would be held so every Spain employee could meet the governor. I immediately became concerned.

Wallace and the word despicable were synonymous to me. I blamed him for the venomous environment that sparked the Ku Klux Klan bombing of Birmingham's Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in 1963.

Four little girls were killed in the blast. One went to my school. Her mother taught there. Her father was my family's milkman.

By the summer of 1972, I was totally into black power. My mind had been Afrocentrically shaped while in the Upward Bound program for high school students at black Miles College. Later, I became a leader in the black student union at mostly white Baker University in Kansas.
Meet George Wallace? I don't think so.

But the situation was delicate. I didn't want to offend Dr. Fletcher or my other coworkers. So, when the time came, I dutifully joined the reception line. Other African American employees did the same.

I kept thinking and thinking. What should I do? I was about a dozen people away from being the next person to shake the governor's hand when I finally just walked away.
Years later as a reporter, I covered Wallace and even shook his hand at least once. It was the professional thing to do.

Before Wallace died in 1998, he confessed his sin as a racist and asked for forgiveness. Many black people forgave him. Many had voted for him when he ran for reelection after being shot.
I never did, even though I do believe he changed.

The South has greatly changed, too, from those days when it took a federal order to get Wallace to stand aside so the University of Alabama could be integrated.
But even today, vestiges of those racist times remain. Events occur in and outside Dixie that make you question how much progress has been made.

Consider the case of the Jena Six. They are six black high school students in a small Louisiana town. In December, they were charged with attempted murder for allegedly beating up a white student who suffered only minor injuries in a fight.

Contrast the attempted-murder charges with the simple battery charge lodged around the same time against a white student identified as the leader of a gang that had assaulted a black student who was punched and beaten with beer bottles.

Both incidents blossomed from racial arguments that began after a handful of black students congregated under a tree at Jena High School supposedly reserved for white students. Three nooses later were hung from the whites-only tree. Verbal sparring in and outside school eventually led to the fights and criminal charges.

The blatant inequity of the attempted-murder charges leveled at the black students has been denounced by various civil rights groups, including the Southern Poverty Law Center and the American Civil Liberties Union. No matter what ultimately happens in court, the defendants' lives will never be the same. They will forever feel like victims of a two-tiered system of justice.
It's hard to believe that 30 years after I couldn't make myself shake George Wallace's hand, there are still places in America where people can't even stand under a tree without being threatened because of their skin color.

My children are grown. When they were little, I prayed the world would be much changed by the time they became adults. It has changed, but not enough. Discrimination lives. There are hearts and minds yet to be conquered. "

Mr. Jackson, I wouldn't have shook the mother fucker's hand either!

With friends like these....

You gotta love those Republicans. Man they bailed on Larry Craig to the quickness didn't they? You would think the guy voted for a tax increase for crying out loud. Hey, he didn't do anything that any other sleazy hypocritical republican wouldn't do, why throw him under the bus (or should I say bathroom stall) now?

I know why; could it be because Idaho has a republican governor, and he will quickly appoint another republican to bathroom footsie man's seat? Ding ding ding ding; you are right field Negro, move to the head of the class.

Consider that David Vitter, that family values man from Louisiana, was actually making phone calls to call girls from the senate cloakroom. The last time I checked, soliciting call girls is illegal in D.C. So why no outrage or censor for Mr. Vitter? Could it be because Louisiana has a democratic governor and she would appoint a Democrat to Mr. Vitter's seat? Ding ding ding ding; field Negro, move to the head of the class again, you are so smart when it comes to your politics.

Hey, all I know is that I wouldn't want to be in the foxhole with those senate republicans when the chips are down. I mean they dropped my man quicker than a bad habit. It must be tough for old Larry. All these people he thought were his friends bailed out on him for political expediency. Now if they would do that to a so called friend, what do you think they would do to you and me? Think about that for a minute. These slime balls only care about one thing, and that's holding on to power, period! Nothing else matters to them, nothing.

So Larry, as you prepare for life after Washington, I hope you have learned some valuable lessons from this: Never trust a republican, pick your friends carefully, and the next time you use a public restroom, make sure you keep your feet together.

House Negroes?

I need your help with this one.

I just got home from a cook out (if you can call it that) at the home of some very well to do friends.(Well, former friends if they read this blog) This dude and his wife have done very well for themselves. They are both lawyers, and they have both had very successful legal careers here in Philly. They have rewarded themselves with a very large and upscale home in the Huntingdon Valley area, which is a suburb just North of the city. (Those of you familiar with this area will know what I am talking about, and will probably have a better appreciation for how nice this house is)

So anyway, they invited the field over for a holiday cookout, and I reluctantly accepted. I remember that last time I visited their home. It was almost two years ago, and it was a house warming of sorts. I remember leaving early because I did not particularly like the cast of characters attending the party. In my humble opinion, they were house Negroes all, who got off more on talking about themselves than just having a good time. But what the hell, it's a holiday weekend, and I didn't have any other plans. I figured I could get some free grub, and hopefully the mix of my man's guests would be different from the last time.

The house is nice, straight out of cribs. Theater room, gym, swimming pool, the whole nine. I went in and said hi to the hosts. "Field nice of you to come, I didn't think you were going to make it." Yeah neither did I. Come on, I have some people I want you to meet." And so it begins, one house Negro after another, everyone more fake than the last. I am finally standing by their pool, eating some finger foods (I think it's goat cheese and some type of fried mushrooms or some shit), and this brother comes over to make small talk. "Don't get too close to that water bro, you know we can't swim." There is a white couple within earshot, I know they heard. In fact, I think he wanted them to hear. But as white people are so good at doing; they give nothing away. They want to wait and see what my reaction will be to my house Negro friends lame attempt to be funny. "Actually, I can swim, and when you say we, do you mean black people?" "Yeah you know the stereo type?" I do, but I feel like being an asshole, and so I pretend I don't. "No, I never heard that." "Field is from Jamaica, so I am sure swimming is not a problem for him." Saved by the host. He walks over, and formally introduces me to wanna be funny man and the white couple. He wants to make more small talk, but the field is ready to roll, because the food isn't all that, and the company is even worse.

I can't wait to get home to do some blogging. I am looking around the house, and the cook-out, is in full swing. More people are piling in, and the driveway, and the street lining the house is looking like a European car show. I am thinking about my blog, and the people who always comment. People like rykirah, Angie, hathor, Michael Fisher, jose, Francis, christian prog., max julian, and Chris ---Well, maybe not Chris; he is a Princeton guy, so he would probably fit right in---But I am thinking what would they think if they saw me in this big ass house surrounded by all these house Negroes? The field Negro ain't looking so field Negroish now is he.

But then I started thinking about something another blogger named Cobb, told me when we met a few months ago: He said that it's a good thing when black people get wealth, it's the American way. And isn't that what we are all striving for? Why knock black folks who get theirs and are clocking dollars? Isn't that we all should be doing? Instead of knocking them, shouldn't we be embracing them, and utilizing their wealth and influence to advance the cause?

So as I am driving away(yes I rolled) I am thinking that maybe it's me. Just because I didn't necessarily like these folks, it doesn't make them all house Negroes. These people could be all doing great things for our people and doing more than their fair share of giving back. But still, they sure seemed awful fake to me, and they were all trying just a little too hard.

I am back at my computer now, and I am asking for your help with this one. Is it me, or are these Negroes fake? I am thinking maybe it's a little bit of both.

Double fault!

Black folks we can't win for losing can we? You all know the old joke about hiding stuff from black folks by putting it in a book. Well, it seems Serena was shattering that stereotype for all the world to see at the U.S. Open, when the Chair Umpire called her out for reading. Yes, you heard right, reading. It seems that during her match with Verna Zvnareva, Chair Umpire Damian Steiner, called out girlfriend for reading. Now frankly, Steiner ought to be public enemy number one in my book. Well, actually, public enemy number two where tennis is concerned. (More on that in a minute)Because the last thing anybody should be doing is discourage a young black person from reading. I don't care if she is a tennis superstar.

Seems there is a rule in tennis that you cannot be coached or get instructions while you are playing. So if a ball boy, for instance, were to pass Serena a note from her Dad, it would be a problem. But that wasn't the case here. Girlfriend was being a good role model and showing the world that black folks can read. And not just not any black person, an athlete no less. To me, that's a beautiful thing. I can hear the folks in the stands now: "Do you see that honey, she can actually read? Wow! Those Williams girls are talented and smart. "

But thankfully, cooler heads prevailed at the Open, and Serena was allowed to continue reading. "He told me I couldn't use my notes. I was like, well, it's not like I'm Harry Potter and my Dad can magically give me notes to read. What if I were to take a paper on the court and write something, what's the difference?" No difference Serena. In fact, you would show the world that black folks can read and write.

Now for public enemy number one in my book. As you might or might not know, the folks at the U.S. Open were celebrating the 50th anniversary of the first African American-who happened to be Althea Gibson- to win a tennis tournament. They planned to have a lavish celebration at center court, and an opening night tribute to Gibson. Now that's a good thing, so far no problems. In keeping with this, they sent out special invitations to the kids at the Althea Gibson Tennis Center here in Philadelphia. The center is in a poor section of Philadelphia, and the kids that go there are from mostly underprivileged backgrounds. I know a thing or two about this center, and they do a great job in the community. They have produced public league tennis players who will no doubt go on to receive college scholarships, and have kept countless kids off the streets. So this was a beautiful gesture by the USTA, and it was to be a great night in the lives of these kids, many of whom had never even left Philly. They were going to share the center court with stars such as Aretha Franklin, and Jackie Joyner-Kersee.

But alas, it wasn't to be. Sadly, the invitations to these poor kids were revoked, and the bush league USTA blamed it on poor planning. "We had an overwhelming response from celebrities who wanted to participate in the broadcast" That's what the U.S. Tennis Association's Chris Widmaier said. Well Mr. Widmaier, if you think this would have meant more to a bunch of jaded "celebrities" than to these little kids, you and your organization are totally clueless.

That's not what Althea would have wanted.

Jason vs. Jessie

I read in GQ Magazine recently where some 45 year old guy had Alzheimer's, and you know what I kept thinking while I was reading that article? Why couldn't this have been Jason Whitlock's black ass? I know that was mean, but hey, that's what I was thinking.

"Why field what's your issue with Jason Whitlock?" Well it seems that Jason has a black problem. Or at least a problem with black folks, and as a result, he writes about us in a negative light every chance he gets. If there is a racial issue in America, and blacks and whites see it differently, you can bet your last dollar that old Jason will come down on the side of the majority population.

In his latest hit piece against black folks, Jason lays the smack down with his pen on the Jena 6. To Jason, these boys were out of control athletes who got their just deserts. Jason doesn't see what all the fuss is about, especially given the fact that all these boys weren't Angels to begin with. He goes on to attack the usual suspects, like Jessie, and Al, much to the delight of his white readers, and I am sure, his white employers. Just think of Jason as the LaShawn Barber of the sports world, and you will get an idea of the type of a black person we are dealing with here.

Now let me put this out there right now: I am no big fan of Jessie or Al, and lord knows I have come down pretty hard on them at times myself, especially when they do dumb shit like jump into the middle of the Terry Schiavo fray. They both love the camera a little too much for my taste, and I am still not sure about that story floating around where Jessie was supposed to have put MLK's blood on his shirt the day he (King) was shot. (I always wondered why King's widow never really spoke to Jessie all these years) But I digress. Still, given all of that, there is no denying that Jessie has done some good things to advance the civil rights struggle in this country. And any black person in America who says otherwise is a damn fool. Which is why when I see folks like Jason making a living on tearing down Jackson, it pisses me off. I see other black writers, commentators, and bloggers doing it too. The first person they rip when there is a racial issue front and center in this country, is good ole Jessie. And before you give me the, "but field you do it too" speech, save it. I know that shit, and I acknowledge it. But it doesn't make it right. Hell, one of the reasons I blog is to provide therapy for myself, and writing about shit that I am guilty of myself, helps me to work through that particular problem.

So back to Jason. Mr one trick pony himself. He rips Vivian Stringer, the Rutgers women's basketball coach. He rips America for not giving Don Imus another chance. And every fucking day he rips another black athlete or person who happens to be in the news, for not playing by America's rules. Like who the fuck died and made him the Martha Stewart of race? On a certain level I almost respect Jason's hustle. Because you and I both know that he can't believe all the shit that he writes. But it's working, Jason is getting more popular by the day, because he is just the latest in a long line of black folks who "Charlie" props up to say what he wants to say, but can't, because it would be too politically incorrect. Jason can say it, because he is one of them.

So anyway,I am making a pledge right here and now: I am not going to rip Jessie anymore. He is way too easy. And besides, is it really his fault that he is the first black person "Charlie" goes looking for when there is a racial problem in this country? I don't think so. Yeah Jessie might love the camera too much, but can you just stop sticking it in his damn face please? Is that too much to ask "Charlie"? And the same goes for the other reverend as well. Although lately, Jason has been popping up a lot too. I would dare say even more than Jessie and Al. So go on with your bad self Jason, the hustle is working.

THOSE FREAKY REPUBLICANS

Hey, say what you want to about the repubs--those boys sure know how to get their freak on. I know they are always preaching to the rest of us about family values, christian morality, and whatever other bull shit they can feed us to keep the spotlight away from them while they hide those skeletons. But, you gotta love 'em.

Let's see now...there was Newt Gingrich--you remember Newt, don't you? This scum bag had an extra marital affair behind his sick wife's back, while he was trying to impeach the first black Prez for getting his freak on. There's also Bob Livingstone--another cheating scumbag, who was exposed for the fraud that he is, for saying one thing and doing another.

And now...let's fast forward--shall we. Ladies and gentleman I give you another Louisiana republican, the Honorable David Vitter. Apparently, my man's number was found in a D.C. Madam's little black book. Of course, he has since held the mandatory press conference (wife-in-tow, of course) and declared, as Bernie Mac says; "it was a long, long time ago, a very long time ago, you know!" And ...he has since found God and family. There was also Mark Foley, (no explanation needed) Bob Allen, (Remember Bob? I posted about him. He is the guy who was going to fork over $20 for oral sex because he was intimidated by all the black guys in the park). And now, The latest playa in the republican freak parade is Airport Larry Craig himself.

Hey, they not only like to have extramarital sex in strange places, but it seems they like to do their drugs too--just ask Thomas Ravenel, Rudy Giuliani's state campaign chairman for South Carolina. Apparently my man was busted with some cocaine recently. OK, so they love sex and drugs. If only they had some rhythm. They could complete the trifecta. But hey, they are republicans, so the rock and roll stuff will have to be left to some other group.

Oh those republicans man, I swear. There are lots more of you, too. I just don't have time to write about you all right now. And folks, if you think I am lying, peep this site for a nice list.

"If we had a coach, the coach would take us into the locker room and scream at us"

~~~John Feehery, former press secretary to Dennis Hastert~~~

I am down with that, but may I suggest a good ass whopping first?

I hate to do a cut and paste job, but this story is too important to ignore.

"Dear Texas ColorOfChange.org member,

Thursday, the state of Texas plans to execute a man who it knows without a doubt did not commit murder. This is not justice--it's insanity. Newspapers all over the state agree that this would be a serious mistake and have called on the Governor and the Board of Pardons and Paroles to spare Kenneth Foster's life.

Can you take a few minutes to make two phone calls to do the same?
Please call the Governor at 512-463-2000 and the Pardons and Paroles Board at 512-406-5852 and ask them to spare Foster's life. Then email http://us.f505.mail.yahoo.com/ym/Compose?To=calls@colorofchange.org to let us know that you did.

On August 15, 1996, Maurecio Brown got out of Kenneth Foster's car and killed Michael LaHood. When the shots were fired, 19-year-old Foster was in the driver's seat, over 80 feet away, and had no idea that that LaHood was about to commit murder. Foster was no angel that night. Earlier, he had drunk beer, smoked marijuana, and waited while Brown and other friends got out of his car to rob people at gunpoint, twice.

Brown was executed on July 19, 2006 for LaHood's murder. If Foster didn't kill LaHood, why is Texas trying to execute him? It's the "law of parties," which states that a person can be held responsible for a crime committed by someone else. Texas is the only state where the law of parties applies to capital cases, where someone can be executed because of someone else's actions. In this case, the prosecution claimed that Foster was guilty because he "should have anticipated" the murder.

In 2005, a U.S. District Judge ruled that the Law of Parties had been misapplied, violating Foster's Eighth and 14th Amendment rights, and overturned his death sentence. But a federal circuit court overruled that decision, so now Foster's fate is in the hands of the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles. Unless the Pardons Board acts, Foster will be killed by the state for failing to read Maurecio Brown's mind.

The Pardons Board rules today. If they recommend commutation of Foster's death sentence, Gov. Perry decides Foster's fate. The Pardons Board rarely commutes sentences, and Governor Perry, citing strong support in Texas for the death penalty, did not uphold the only commutation recommended during his term (he has overseen 159 executions since 2000).
Even though the odds are against Foster, we know that public pressure can make a difference. Every ounce of pressure could help.

Again, please call the Governor at 512-463-2000 and the Pardons and Paroles Board at 512-406-5852. Email us at http://us.f505.mail.yahoo.com/ym/Compose?To=calls@colorofchange.org to let us know that you did. And pass this on.

Thank You and Peace, "

Gabriel, thanks for e-mailing me this important story.

Now everyone please stop reading and get on the phone.

But senator, I just met you.

The field is stuck at the airport waiting for a flight. The field is bored because his flight is late. The field doesn't want to stuff his face with airport junk food , so he loads up on some ice cold mineral water. Not surprisingly, the field has to go and take a quick twinkle.

The field is in the men's bathroom, freeing his willy wonka, and spilling his yellow lemon aide in its appropriate place. So while he is, ahem ahem, flowing; an older white haired gentleman slides up to the urinal next to the field. Mmmm, the field is a little curios, there are plenty of empty stalls in the bathroom, and this older white gentleman comes right next to the field.

He is glancing around, he looks nervous, every now and then he glances down at the field, and now the field is getting a little pissed. The field starts to shake his willy wonka (This of course takes awhile :)) and the man is staring intently at the field's, ahem ahem tool. "Motherfucker are you looking at my dick? "The field is furious. "Oh, no, I was just admiring it," says the old white haired white gentleman. "Admiring it?""Yes, I am sorry.... may I touch it?"" Ahhh hell no! What kind of man do you think I am. First, I am not gay, so I don't think I would particularly enjoy you touching my Johnson. And second, if I was gay, you sure as fuck wouldn't be my type."" Well, I am a U.S. Senator, I could make it worth your time."" Ahhh no, I don't think so."" Please, I just got off of very a long flight, and I am feeling particularly horny right about now. I have always had jungle fever, we don't see too many of you people where I am from in Idaho. I see lots of you in D.C., but I am a well respected Republican, and I can't afford to mess up, I have to be careful."" Well you ain't being so fucking careful now. I mean we are in a public rest room, and I am a total stranger. Forget the fact that I could commence to whopping your ass, but if I were a cop, I could arrest you for lewd behaviour(British spelling woozie) in a public restroom . Did you say you were a Republican?" "Yes I am."" Well what is it with you freaky mother fuckers? Look man, if I were you, I would zip up my pants, and walk away. I am going to do you a favour(British spelling woozie) and pretend this didn't happen. You are lucky I am not a reporter or a blogger or some shit. Now go on man, before I call the cops on your ass. " :)

OK, so the above story was fictional. But I did get my inspiration from this report.

Hey, at least he didn't blame his behavior on being nervous because too many blacks were around.

Gotta love those conservative republicans. Here is a guy who endorsed his state's(Idaho) anti gay amendment, HJR2, which essentially banned gay marriages,civil unions, and domestic partnerships. Yet, the motherfucker is in a public bathroom trying to play footsie with an undercover cop from a bathroom stall.

Folks, that's called balls. Whoops, maybe I should have used another word.

Francis & The Kossacks

I wasn't going to post today, because I had some more important stuff going on. But then, like the addict that I am, I got on the Internet and caught this post from my man Francis Holland about the Kossacks again.


I swear I had to post this link. (He compared the Kossacks to the Klan!) My man Francis will not leave Markos and the folks at Kos alone. Now he is posting from Political Fleshfeast, a spin off of Myleftwing, which is wild as shit. Seems they gave Francis the green light to post as much as he wants, and boy is he going to town.



I have said publicly and privately to my man Francis, that I really don't co-sign with his need to post constantly and stir the pot on these large white blogs. I think he should use his immense talent to devote his writing and research to black causes and on black blogs. (Like the ones in the Afrospear for instance) But....he won't listen, and he just keeps trying to kick the door in to the white folks house.


Still, I love how he is trying to expose Markos, because let's face it, Markos has become an important political figure in this country. If he is doing or has done some shady shit in the past, well then he should be called on it.

So "write" on Francis. I tried to rope you in, but I guess there is no stopping you. You're the white folks problem now :)