The Cake Is Baked By @KolaBoof

As a Sudanese-born American-raised bestselling author who has been vaginally infibulated since birth, my rage regarding the infamous “Genital Mutilation Art Cake” is like a Hydra with many splintered heads and has scarcely been addressed by anyone in America asked to write about this issue.

The Infamous “Genital Mutilation Art Cake”

My Twitter friend @OwlsAsylum asked me to put my feelings in writing for his blog where I can be as open as I like…so I warn you now…that what I have to say is not going to be what you’re used to reading in Black American publications or even White-ran African ones.

Before I talk about what it’s like to actually live with a ‘cut vagina’ and my conflicting feelings around the whole controversy, let me quickly rehash what happened to cause this brouhaha—a Male Mixed Race Swede artist named Makode Linde (the term ‘mixed race Swede’ being shorthand for White to those of us who come from Africa) engaged in performance art in which he depicted the image of a Charcoal-skinned woman served up at a party as a living edible cake. The party, hosted by Sweden’s Minister of Culture Lena Adelsoln Liljeroth, was supposed to raise awareness about the issue of Genital Cutting in Africa. Honoring the artist’s own claims—his intention was to show how racist White people are by having the mostly White partygoers cut up and eat the genitals of the moaning, screaming Charcoal Woman. With glee, the Whites did exactly that. I’m laughing my ass off remembering it (the video)—but inside, I’m calling ‘Camel Shit’ on the artist’s supposed intent.

Let me ask those who see this as art right now. If it was Makode Linde’s intention to make the world ‘see’ how racist we are by eating the genitals of the moaning cake—then why not make the cake look like a real African girl? An older woman with big bare tits wouldn’t be having this genital cutting experience—a small child would. Certainly, I have no problem with the charcoal skin (what East Africans refer to as “Biblical Days Black”—the color of our original Cushitic mother). But it seems racially methodical to present this African image in a sexually Western stance (the large bare breasts stand at attention unnaturally; not fall to the side despite the fact she that she is lying supine—typical Western pornographic imagery that came in vogue when more than 30 million White women in 18 nations received fake silicone breast implants). Linde’s caricature is definitely not a small defenseless child receiving initiation rites in Africa. As well, notice the frighteningly garish mouth—savage teeth, swollen red lips—the stereotypical Western racist cartoon image that plagues waving Sambo figures on White doorsteps in the Southern U.S. and other grotesque Massa-Welcome images traditionally found comical by those who deny Black humanity.

Why was dreadlock-wearing Linde so insensitive to how his ‘African woman’ looked? My belief is that he never expected video of the party to reach the entire planet. He thought the ‘feel-good racist imagery’ would create a bonding experience between his lonely Biracial shell and the Superior Swedes he’s most likely sought acceptance and solidarity from all his life. Like so many new age Racists of Color, Makode Linde thought this display and all reaction to it would be confined to the upper class and their few ethnic puppets—kept in town, like most of his other art works.

Following the controversy, Linde stated, “I didn’t intend for anyone to feel embarrassed. But we’re talking about female genital mutilation—is there any comfortable or cozy way to talk about it?”

Yes there is—let me do so right now.

I was vaginally infibulated in Omdurman, Sudan soon after my birth. Infibulation in my region of Africa in 1969 meant that the muscles inside the vagina were cut loose and reconfigured ‘tighter’ (supposedly to incur ‘purity’ as the Mullahs claimed that the Koran states: “Woman is Impure”). After the tightening process, the vagina is stitched shut—you grow up having your period through a straw—which can take some women an entire month. On the outer lips of the vagina, seared in Arabic, they put the name of your father and his mosque on the left side—the right side of my vagina was left blank for the name of my future husband to be seared on with a hot poker later. My clitoris was not removed, because my birth mother was an Oromo, not a Muslim and wouldn’t allow what Arab Muslims call ‘the worm of unclean thoughts’ to be cut away. Thus I cannot speak on the horror of having no feeling, no clitoris. But protocol follows that years after this ritual—at your wedding ceremony, the groom is given a small razor. This is to slit you open so he can begin penetrating you on the ‘wedding bed’—a process that can take weeks.

I escaped the Arab Muslim wedding, because my parents were murdered in front of me at the age of six and my Egyptian grandmother handed me over to UNICEF (to be ‘left for adoption’ after she got permission from the Mullahs—adopting being illegal in Egypt) because she could not fathom having a chocolate colored granddaughter in her White Arabic family. Through UNICEF, I was eventually placed with a Black American family in Washington D.C. and did not learn that I was vaginally infibulated until my Black American mother gave me a bath the first time I arrived in America. She and my new Black American father rushed me to D.C. General Hospital that night, horrified at the stitching between my thighs.

My life is not typical of the African girl who has been circumcised or infibulated. I grew up Americanized. My Black American parents wanted to have my vagina “corrected” at 16—but I refused because it was the only thing that connected me to my birth mother. Losing my virginity at 17 to my Black American tutor (who to me was White because of his egg-nog colored complexion) took an entire month. Imagine having your upper lip pulled up over your entire head—that’s how it feels for a ‘cut girl’ when she first has sex, you literally pass out. On one occasion in the back of his car, we got ‘stuck’ like dogs and had to be “wet” by fire hose to get us apart. It was so humiliating. Each attempt was excruciatingly painful for me, but like any teenaged girl I was determined to prove that I loved my man. Later, in my twenties traveling the world as a model and actress, I learned the value of having “pinhole pussy”—I could manipulate men with it. No matter how many of them I bedded, it appeared to each next guy that I was a virgin. And when men think they are the first and it’s even tighter when they return—they do a lot more for you. My vagina gave me all manner of problems—hormone imbalances; winter time shrinking. But because of my power over men sexually, I grew to take pride in my vagina. I refuse for instance to allow Westerners to tell me that I’m “mutilated.” I don’t accept that. I am different, but my life is not over, I am not defeated and I see myself as inconvenienced; violated—but not mutilated. With its shield face and Arabic writing, my vagina is very pretty to me.

Activists using the term “mutilation” forget that this is a Psychological condition, not just physical. We that are cut have to live our entire lives with our vagina. We have to move on and accept this horrible inconvenience and find joy in it.

I am now 42 and have given birth to two sons by cesarean—yet I am like a 12 year old down there. It does not change. This tightness that is created for male pleasure (no other reason, despite what the religious men say) is a never-ending curse of pain and ecstasy; sexual rapture bound up in brutally inhuman suffrage for the woman. I have learned to live with this—to even exploit it for my advantage. But I would not wish it on anyone. My vagina has been for men…and not for me!

So to watch a man—a man calling himself a ‘Black man’—lay on a table and holler moans that invited laughter as his friends cut chunks of his pink genitals away and at them—was so devastatingly powerful that it reduced me to loud, butchered sobbing. I couldn’t stop crying. Add to that the psychological effect of having to cope with the strangeness of Western reaction—particularly Black American friends defending this image and claiming that the intent of the art was to help girls like me.

Help us how? Who did it change? Who among the masses even understood what they were watching? It looked like a Halloween comedy show! Far and wide—people were laughing! No one watching that video thought of little African infants lying on the ground in rows between Cassava plants being cut on by dutiful old women. No one thought of that.

And that brings me to the most painful experience of the video, the one that came in the days after I watched out—the shutting out of my voice and of women like me by arrogant bougie African American writers and publications—writers and publications that would claim to speak ‘for us’ in delineating the experiences of African women and girls in public forums—yet slander my name and claim that I am “crazy” and shouldn’t be understood or have a voice.

This happened despite the fact that I am a well published author in America; a citizen of America; a Black African woman and a person who is vaginally infibulated. These Blacks at Ebony.Com, The Root and The Grio…the same ones who insisted that Makode Linde’s “voice,” however controversial, should be analyzed and understood on an intellectual basis…dismissed me, an infibulated African woman writer as someone there should be no time for—no understanding of. Herein lies the hateful core of not only Linde’s art piece, but the overall problem with Western Blacks—the innate hatred, distrust and lies they quickly attach to a Black female image when that female image threatens to Blacken them.

Certainly, because I am a noted author, published in eight countries—what I have to say will go into the canon of Black literary commentary whether people like it or not. So I say that these editorial staffs at Ebony.Com, The Grio, The Root and so many other so called Black publications are ‘pretentious,’ ‘privileged’, ‘vain’ and ‘wrongheaded.’ They want to visit Africa like a grave. You dare not be in the room. There is nothing journalistically scientific or factual about their methods when they say that Makode Linde should exist and be heard, but not Kola Boof. This is what Linde’s cake represents no matter where a Black woman goes. Routinely, you hear these American Negroes say when discussing me, “She is crazy”….but not a single one will counter “Why is she crazy?”

They don’t even acknowledge the moaning cake.

I have slapped Amiri Baraka for repeatedly calling me a bitch at the Harlem Book Fair. While heckling me on stage, he also stated that I was a “CIA Agent” and…”really a man.” A year before that incident, my books were banned by Black American bookseller Eso Won—the top black bookstore in Los Angeles. I never had a single ‘run-in’ or altercation with anyone in or near that book shop ever. No explanation was given—my publisher was simply informed that my books and I were banned from their Afrocentric shelves.

After discovering that 12 other Black women writers are banned from Eso Won bookstore, including Pulitzer nominee Wanda Coleman—I felt something akin to Linde’s Sara Baartman cake. The perpetual cutting, mentally as well as physically, is worldwide for Black women.

One local Black radio talk show host befriended me and had a different take. He said that I am despised by Black Literati for being ‘too truthful’ in my speaking style, for focusing quite forcefully on dark skinned Black women’s issues and for refusing to accept America’s one drop rule and see Mixed Race people as “black.” This last one in particular angers them he said, because so many of the leading Black movers and shakers in publishing are mixed race blacks or Black men with White spouses and mixed offspring. Years even before that, however, I was lied on by Black American scholars that I’ve never met, as high up and influential as Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Cornel West—granted I can’t stand them and they probably knew that from reading my books. But the thing is, why would intellectual Afro-descended people be so afraid of the rising career of a Black African woman? I hadn’t slapped their friend Amiri yet. I hadn’t done anything but be an African Womanist artist.

And then there’s smaller fish like Dr. Goddess, Deesha Philyaw, Dan Billin, Dominique DiPrima, Arab-funded ESPAC reporters and so many others who gossiped incessantly behind my back and made one nefarious claim about me after the other—all without ever having met me. These are supposed to be smart Negroes and Arabs of high importance.

In the canon of Black history, they have the delusion that I am an unimportant ‘folksy’ figure (shocking and vulgar they say) who will one day disappear while they (cloaked in white collars, college degrees and visits to Harris-Perry’s Nerdland) will go on to be remembered as intelligent, fearless, Black-loving auteurs of what they called ‘the African Diaspora.’ Something more organic to them than me, mind you—because Whites owned them and they now think with the same arrogant self-importance of the White Tower. What could I, the dirty ground possibly have to say? This is very sad indeed as this is a virtual re-enactment of Zora Neale Hurston and the Niggerati of the 1930’s. And yes, as a writing talent and a critical thinker, I am comparing myself to Zora, most definitely.

One has to sigh and fan oneself, because naturally, I’m not innocent in this mess. From the beginning, I’ve been a complete bitch to anyone that dismissed my reality or my right to have a voice. I gave it right back to them with all the pent up relish of my life long suffering. But how dare an African mother come here and do that! We’re Black and we want our place in the White people’s great society—but she, our own mother, is not one of us!

Makode Linde personified more than anything the modern Black conscious when he fashioned that cake. And I promise you—the Cake Is Baked. Linde is not alone in that tar-black butchered bitch fantasy, which is why so many Blacks are defending him. Whether it be our own black sons on the radio calling us “Bitches and Hoes” or proclaiming in their latest works of art: “I don’t date Dark butts—why did my baby come out so Black—White women are better”—the Cake Is Baked. The men’s yellow icing drips down the side of our much-despised nappy heads like a golden blond weave. If we protest, we are called ‘angry…bitter.’

The violent-voiced male rapper is not a threat to the community. Barking like a dog is his right by virtue of testicles. Pathetic Nicki Minaj draped in Barbie Doll drag while referring to little black girls as ‘nappyhead hoes’ in more than two of her songs is not a threat to the community. But we, the moaning burnt cakes with savage teeth and thick red lips—our sliced up fudge-inducing pussies threaten the Black community’s Mulatto follies—their niggerstock delusions of a bright future. As I wrote in a book once: ‘The Black Woman is the most unprotected, unloved woman on earth…she is the only woman on earth…that grows unwatered.’ In America, where they believe (or want to believe)…that that Bitch in New York Harbor is their real mother…it sticks to their fingers like frosted truth. Since none of us in the Black community plan on staying black—we don’t have time to care about Black women. So of course the bougie Negro journalists must consider Makode Linde’s brand of art—he’s their sanctioned portrait maker!

The Propaganda Of Privilege

“The fundamental concept in social science is Power, in the same sense that Energy is the fundamental concept in physics…The laws of social dynamics are laws which can only be stated in terms of power”(Russell, 1938, p. 10)

There is a belief that everyone under the oppression of privileged people are also privileged. And yet, all nations are tornados with leadership living comfortably as the eye of hypermasculinity playing with weapons of Life destruction. It can appease empathy deficient beings to believe having a cell phone while homeless is a treat of some sort, but children in Sudan are carrying Ak-47’s like PlaySkool brought out a line called, “My First Automatic Weapon”, and passed it out to little tikes. Interesting trade-off or just a fair observation? Or maybe I should have replaced PlaySkool with CIA?

Anywho…

Power is divided in such a way that it can automatically create classes. We sort one another like dry science into nomenclature labeled jars based on how we obtain resources, where we are most influential, and how much influence and resources we have. Our children react to the impact of what we call a star by imitating them and often comparing the status of their parents to that of those they see or hear via media. As it has been documented, litte Afkan boys and girls tend to see them Selves in the light of media imagery that favors lighter human beings over darker human beings.

In much of this discussion, we couple class with notions of money, yet privilege is a seduction of fear. The privilege of US soldiers to barge into any country under the auspice of whatever moral dilemma being sold through media injections while much of domestic voting populace can’t afford their homes is a direct result of their capability to induce fear world wide. That is the privilege. The capturing and psychological wiring of millions of inhabitants of the Western shores of Afrika is the privilege of Anglo America. Part of defending the ideology of privilege is to make the underprivileged think that some how they are secure from harm or of a greater importance than other members of the underprivileged society. Any sort of “privilege” here is solely illusory and bound by systemic, or institutional, customs to be directed any way Anglo-American power brokers or their flunkies need it to go. When the underprivileged babies need to be used for governmental schemes, separate the child from the family; when the men need to be used for labor, separate them from the family. All privilege stems from the system because the system is what provides what we define as privilege.

Since globally there is a system of privilege created and controlled by Anglo Westerners, any privilege is to support functioning of their state of affairs. Obama can be president because Afkans will support a culturally Anglo-American person with a Kenyan bloodline, especially with privileged Anglo-American credentials. He is not an Afkan, and his US roots are of a Euro-American. His election benefits the privileged system because it justifies it and legitimizes it in the minds of the underprivileged. Since no election is purely of people’s choice, it begs to be asked which privileged parties made selections. It is not the idea of conspiracy–although it would be foolish to think that a country formed from a conspiracy wouldn’t continually have capable conspirers at its helm– it is simply that people with power will act according to that which will allow for maintainance. Yet, status, even in the position of POTUS, is only a definition of percieved attributes and the respect given from such attributions. It can be said that Barrack holds the office of President of the United States, and that would be accurate, yet his status as a half-Kenyan man in a society that deflects privilege from people of darker hues has a bearing on his status rendered from his position as the president. His position is only respected in regards to a power structure that is against him. A sort of math takes place here where the Bush family can use the position to wage personal wars, and yet Obama can’t rally for a colleaugue of his alma mater without being embarrassed by having to apologize to a person light years beneath his stature.

That last sentence is not a nod to elitism. Barrack Obama is in the position of head of the Executive Branch, the branch that commands the military, not just in foreign terroritory, but in domestic US as well. Where police officers can murder a sleeping child and the complaints regarding the case are deflected because of fear from having to organize against the police. Anglo vigilantes can murder Afkan consumers walking in the streets and not face swift punishment for the crime. Underprivileged academics and activist are swayed to fold under the pressure of a propaganda that informs that they must act within a morality that doesn’t exist for the privileged. Police officers barge into a man’s home because he is Afkan living in a residential area of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and that man is arrested because he justifiaby is outraged with the police officer and has to respect that Anglo police officers can make rash errors and demand an apology. Not only demand an apology from the aggrieved home owner, but also demand one from the aggreived home owner’s friend in high places when that friend is the POTUS and asked about his friend. That is privilege. There is no morality being exercised here, in fact, it could be easily settled that there is also no crumble of civility here either.

As I have written in Asylum elsewhere, you simply cannot have privilege in this society if you are other than Euro-American. Even a rich Afkan is either a tool or an enemy of the state. The dominant religions of this society have all factored in an Anglo authority as God, whether Christianity or Islam. This means that not only are we killed or reduced to minions no matter if we are the head of the state, we also perceive the privileged as deserving of the privilege as well as being morally correct. Aiyana Jones gets shot on camera and the response is to overlook her killer who is an Anglo or Euro-American authority figure and attack Afkan gang bangers whom we can use the police to capture, just hope not too many of our other children have to be slaughtered like livestock in the process. That is privilege. There is no privilege in being an Afkan male when you can’t walk down the street sipping your cold tea and not expect to get shot simply for being Afkan. As there can be no electricity in a building not connected to a source that provides that electricity, there can be no privilege in a social situation where that privilege is withheld. Any beliefs to the contrary are simply propaganda directed to confuse and misguide the underprivileged.

My Response To Porgy and Bess On Broadway(2012)

Editor’s note: Before we delve into this piece, would like to take the time to thank Nikki for such an eventful weekend in New York City. Asylum will always be indebted and I’m sure I would have never been exposed to much of what I have been if it had not been for your extended loyalty and commitment to our family.

 

 

An understanding must always be undertaken when discussing figures of history: I’m discussing what has happened and was recorded of a person. Often, in Afkan discussion, we mistake what we have heard of a person from source 1082 and not what we may have actually witnessed for our Selves or known of someone from primary accounting methods. I never met Dubose Heyward, I may have liked him. I never knew Malcolm X, may have disliked him. So, in my efforts to write critiques regarding historical figures, I attempt to be objective for the sake of my ignorance, and subjective with regard to my complete knowledge of Self. That is not saying I have complete knowledge of Self, for my Self is a dynamic, subject to change; I am, however, referring to those elements that have remained core components that I can be sure of in as much as I’m sure the Sun will remain in a fixed enough position for the Earth to round about its axis.

 

A part of this Self, I speak of and know of is my need to bond with those of my Afkan heritage. The romantic element of any nation, tribe, religion, any grouping of humans, is exactly that which that unit’s cohesive agent is. We are all bound by emotional strands, physical ecological realities, or we are not at the same time. Logic allows for a cold, or objectifying treatment of life, yet it doesn’t remove the fact that all of life is living and that all of the living are dependent or interconnected in some way. It is the romantic ideology that compels the will to act in a manner suitable for sacrifice and commitments that cold logic cannot always clone. The cowardly can be logical; the cowardly cannot always be faithful to the trust of those that need them to be in the face of ominous circumstance. When the braves of a people are limited and must resort to the employ of cowards to do that which even the brave flounder, it takes an emotional appeal that extends into the imagination, not the analytic recesses. In this regard, it is always necessary to know what every imagination, what every creation, and thus what every artist and creator, has in their mind and what is the response to these creations on the collective mind. It must be remembered that the phrase “Uncle Tom” originated not in the sphere of objective reality, but in the imaginations of a White woman for a white male audience. Yet, how often do we hear White males using the phrase colloquially? How often do we hear or read Afkan peoples using it?

 

Now, in mentioning all of that, what are you preparing us for, eh? I don’t mind White writers writing whatever they choose; I just don’t wish to allow it to pass without a critical eye for symbols and messages that are born of the taints of White privilege born of European global domination that allows Whites to continuously feel comfortable crafting pieces about Afkan of all eras and periods. Media images have defined movements and cultural behaviors since the written word appeared, and it should be the effort of any Black(Afkan) media analyst to regard all works composed by other than Afkan about Afkan to be held as propaganda that could spark mass gas chambers to be filled. If I am to be applauded for critiquing the works of Tyler Perry or even Aaron McGruder, I shall not be of the type of rat’s bastard spawn, filled with insecurity of my own culture and skin, that I can’t critically assess those that helped to forge the stereotypes and shallow witticisms that plague the works of the aforementioned.

 

 

I tend to hold this view especially when applying my sword and monocle to period pieces. Especially period pieces written by Southern Whites born during the late 1800s (any hundreds really, but those really get the McNulty treatment). Such a piece is Dubose Heyward’s Porgy, which is the book that became the play that became the operetta, that became the wonderful and entertaining Broadway production my sister from another sex act entirely treated me and Brie to the past weekend. The production of the Broadway performance was superb in execution. David Alan Grier’s “Sportin’ Life” was vivid and captured the essence of the trickster beyond even the work it Self through his use of obvious stage contraptions that were not actual props(i.e., his constant leaning on stage scaffolding, a device that lesser skilled talents might abuse to the detriment of a convincing performance). The colorful clothing arrangements complemented the rich vocal assortment, which, like that blending of cast costumes, cascaded in a harmonizing that captured you from the opening act to the last. It truly was an event to behold. An experience worthy of all that vibratory magnetism that surrounds much of Broadway, and those works which come to represent it in real time.

 

Porgy and Bess, the Broadway musical, is the story of a crap game gone bad when a local drunken dope fiend, Crown, loses and kills the fader, Robbins. Without telling too much of the plot, although you should expect spoilers, Porgy, a crippled beggar gives the drunken dope fiend’s lady, Bess, a place to hide after she turns down the offers of the local dope dealer, “Sportin’ Life”. And although the production is awfully compelling, I couldn’t resist the urges of my analytic process when watching a musical rendition of a crap game of Afkan gentle folks acted in front of me in a sea of predominantly White ticket buyers. I immediately thought of Ice Cube’s “What They Hittin’ Foe?”(Amerikkka’s Most Wanted(1991)) and other Hip hop mentionables that have often gone under fire by the same class of Afkan that will most likely be defending the White Heyward and Jewish Gershwin. As an Afkan (Black) media analyst, it is has become an almost impossible task for me not to question the motives of why a particular cultural artifact, whether well meaning or not, actual or just practical for storytelling purposes, was used. This is especially the case for productions with cultural Afkan overtones and predominantly Afkan casts. I have a right to question anyone outside of the Afkan experience, I don’t care if your mother sucked fifty Afkan penises in the back of her father’s car while she grew up in an Afkan neighborhood; all Afkan can’t tell the Afkan story, why should it be so easy for those other than Afkan to do it?

 

 

It often needs to be thought about, who trained Afkan film writers, other Afkan film writers, or other than Afkan film writers? Was it not other than Afkan peoples that had their hands on the development of film first? Did the Afkan somehow fund a movie production to teach other than Afkan people how to write for film and film going audiences before other than Afkan people wrote for film and all other than Afkan audiences? Have I somehow confused you here? Do you need to read this all over? Please, I’ll wait right here…

 

Where did the mammy caricature originate? Although the depiction of women of an imaginary small Gullah village named, Catfish Row — symbolized in the Broadway performance by nine (my numerologists readers should have a field day with this play given its use of complete and incomplete notions {the play starts with a child’s birth} used throughout the scripting) planks of wood holding up the wooden set where the thespians performed– these women are very much styled as the mammy. In fact, all of the Afkan women in the play would easily fit into that type with the exception of Bess, played by a very alluring and just damn fine Audra McDonald, whose type is the whore, the loose and easily accessible licentious dark woman, or Jezebel/Sapphire, a caricature often associated with Afkan women. The male characters, although slightly more robust, still capture elements of the slave narratives as sold to European American audiences. We have the Buck exemplified by the drunken Crown. This savage rapist image that allowed for Ku Klux Klan memberships to swell, oh wait, that could have possibly allowed(yes, I’m moving my right hand closed around an open circular space in a jerking up and down motion), after the release of D.W. Griffith’s ‘Birth of a Nation’. Although the trickster image appears heavily in Gullah and Yoruba lore, in the character of Sportin’ Life it takes on the elements of “slickster”, not buffoonish in any manner, but the sophisticated fast talking caricature spoken of in J.A. Rodger’s “From Superman to Man”.

 

 

I do not in any right feel the need to be “fair” to a writer’s work who has direct descendants that not only owned slaves but apparently lived pretty well-off because of them, so I’ll write this out rightly, the women are shown as the unifying force of the story, very much like the mammy caricature is shown as the leader of the Afkan people. Whether objective reality supports this or not, and whether I support this or not, this is the continued message throughout the piece. We see a much respected Porgy being chastised by the women who will not give him his cane as a means of keeping him immobile to convince him towards their thinking. It is also the women that alienate Bess and instruct her not to seek Porgy for a rest haven. It is also the women that embrace her and invite her to the community picnic held on the island where she is left to be raped by Crown (a rape scene on the stage was very impacting given the level of groping by the actor Phillip Boykin). I was happy to see a media production where an Afkan man is seeking to not only commit to an Afkan woman, but also to defend her, sure. I’m also pleased to have seen a performance whereby a group of Afkan women that are married to Afkan men come together to defend an Afkan man. I’m also pleased to point out a production that points to the historical reality of the Gullah. I do believe I’ve been kind enough to this child of Afkan slave torturers.

 

It should noted here that Heyward wrote Porgy based on an actual Afkan that was considered to be a criminal. As an informally trained White writer whose family had fallen from grace after the Emancipation Proclamation and subsequent fall of the South, Heyward had been persuaded to write a piece about Afkans that would allow him to compete with the more sophisticate White writers in the community of writers that he belonged to. As stated before, I probably would have really liked this guy. But, I have to ask, if Heyward were an Afkan understanding how powerful imagery works in writing as well as how imagery transcends cultures, would he have gone with an Afkan story of a criminal and whore? It is a compelling story. Porgy and Bess is much more intricate than its critics have allowed it, and much more complex than Gershwin’s adaptation, replete with inconsistency after inconsistency, frames it. I do agree with Langston Hughes, Heyward was able to do what most of his White counterparts crafting the Afkan experience elegantly and poignantly. However, I still must wonder if he were forced by conscientious responsibility to pick a storyline, would it have been that of a crippled beggar forced to defend an Afkan drug addict from her murderous and rapist lover? Porgy, and its variation, Porgy and Bess, is an ugly tale. It is a very dark piece. Heyward’s ethnicity and his family’s background only makes the piece more dark for me.

 

Certain questions ought to be raised. Why is it when an Afkan portrays Afkan women as needy, drug addicted, and weaker than enamel dentures soaking in lemon juice, they are attacked for being born Tyler Perry? Yet, those descriptions were written with Porgy and Bess in mind. Has it become a part of our culture that only White Jewish males are allowed to go unquestioned with depictions of Afkan (Afrikan Amerikkkan) women in roles stereotypical or demeaning? Had Tyler Perry been the director of “Color Purple” instead of Steven Spielberg, would we have demanded the lynching party we usually rally together behind films that display women in no different manner than the Jewish film maker? We laugh when White women attempt to exhibit our styles, yet we let a White Jewish man tell us how our “Girlfriends” should act?

 

I don’t mind anyone doing whatever with media. I do have a problem when I can’t ask questions in the same country “Birth of a Nation” and “Colors” were filmed. I know what impact images can have on the lives of individuals and thus communities. Afkan pretend to endure for the sake of artistic value, and yet, the Anti-Defamation League would have their balls deep down Tyler Perry’s esophagus if he crossed the same lines we allow his Jewish counterparts to cross since the early 1900s in media. I am appreciative of classic works such as Porgy and Bess. I thought the imagery of an Afkan community coming together against White terrorism in the form of brutal and draconian police detectives was refreshing. But White Jewish liberals have always had a soft spot when it comes to violence in their exploitation; ask an NAACP member. However, I would ask anyone reading this to consider whatever facts and accurate insights or perspectives I provide with this piece.

 

I also don’t have any extra fucks to give with those that might label me filiopietistic here. As known, I am an Afkan loyalist and my works aren’t of the academic type constructed by intellectual cowards hiding behind objectivity for the sake of grants, loans, tenure, or appearances on some news anchor or political pundit’s couch positioned just so precisely for camera purposes. Excuse my existentialism, but every human is at war, and every collective formed due to warlike circumstances either of environment, animal, or other human collectives. Good writers don’t toss words on pages and make classic literature no matter how much Western theories of evolution might suggest such goofy notions. A lot of thought goes into a masterpiece, and a lot of impact occurs with collected thought. My job is to ask the questions that you don’t when thinkers hope you aren’t.

 

As always, thanks for reading this…

The Eight Reasons Why I’m Responding…

I suppose I’ve always had my own personal bouts with self-hate, and the influences of media with that regard. I do consider the thought pattern as something of a psychosis, an internal battle to force all that is wrong with you into a mental template based on your outer presentation. Or vibration of energies reflecting from you, as the case is, in more technical terms. I never knew just how deeply the roots of this particular thought pattern where, however, until I began a more concentrated perusal of the things that people write on the interweb. The more Black blogs I read, the more I wonder if we are all satirist, vying for a spot on The Onion, or just madly in love with hating ourselves and wishing to be white.

No disclaimers.

So, while I was listening to Rick Ross’ “Push It To The Limit” for the fourth, fifth, or even possibly sixth time(theme songs should always be played on repeat), I came across a Twitter update in the @BetterYouEbook timeline retweeted from one of the people that I follow. The update was a lambaste regarding @ToureX of mainstream media fame, and he interviews hip hop artists sometimes too. Being a fan of Toure X beratings, I decided to follow the course of replies to where they originated. Man oh man, did I not know how far down that rabbit hole would take me. Let’s say I wound up at the doorstep of @madamenoire.

Now, one of the major dangers(depending on who you are), and one of the perks(once again, depending on who you are) of interweb usage is being able to conjure up a variable of identities. Let that thought sit for a timepiece, will return to that later.

Being of a sound mind, alright, I was on a break from work and decided to get on twitter and surf for a few minutes, I clicked on the link to the Madame Noire website, and I did a google search on the name. I was lead to the timeline of another person that I follow on twitter: @Christelyn(Also known as Christelyn Karazin, writer of the book,“Swirling: How to Date, Mate and Relate Mixing Race Culture and Creed”(I can’t conjure this stuff up, folks, if only my imagination were that cruel…). The updates that I found in her timeline, the consecutively posted updates in her timeline, mind you, are here captured in this jpeg:


No implications necessary. I do believe that Christelyn is brash and bold enough to write under her own handle. However, as always in the Asylum, when we do critiques of others works, we want to not be bothered with grammatical errors, syntax, or pettiness–we come for intentions. Since I am not accusing Christelyn of writing the piece that we will be critiquing in this post, I don’t want to spend too much time on her blog with categories in her top navigation such as:“My Story: Jumping The Broom With A White Boy” aligned next to her navigational link of “No Wedding, No Womb”–the online movement that she spearheads with the pronounced focus of(according to her website):”…is an initiative that seeks to address the problems of – and provide solutions to — the unplanned pregnancies among African American single women.” Obviously, yes, OBVIOUSLY, one of her main solutions to solving the problem of children in the Black community being born out of wedlock is for Black women to get married to White men and have babies.(With all the banter about “marrying a white boy”, I have no fear of a rebuttal on that note!)

As stated, this is not an address on Christelyn or her “trademarked slogan, No Wedding, No Womb!”(If I could make it up, I wouldn’t be broke!!). It is simply a lengthy(I know, I know already, on with the show…) introduction and a neat(well, I thought so before you guys started skimming…) anecdote on how I got to read this post: “8 Reasons To Date A White Man”(featured in the “LIVING” section, no doubt(thank the Universe for the interwebs, I am simply not this creative…).

Alright…what everybody came for…

According to the article written by LaShaun Williams(I’m really hoping the google results on your name are incorrect, sister):

” I am married to a Black man—dark-skinned, 100 percent cocoa. To me, there is nothing more physically beautiful on this earth. Notice I said physically. Outside of that, there are plenty of more financially, intellectually and emotionally stable options. It’s time to taste the unknown. There are just too many—too many bright and beautiful single Black women waiting for their Black prince charming, only to see more and more of them riding off with their porcelain-skinned beauties.


My question is what are you waiting for—a baby and no ring? Black men are obviously seeing a lot in others they like. As an open-minded woman, I can tell you from experience some things about white are right. In no particular order, here are the reasons you should be giving vanilla a chance.”

The initial opening salvo is basically a disclaimer. It is a technique used in critical writings to stave off ad hominem attacks. Now, I agree that one should be careful with ad hominem usages, primarily due to the tendency too place to much attention on the messenger and not the message. In this case, I feel a “This IS Sparta!” moment coming on. She states that she is married to a black man, makes sure that we know he is of the darker variety of such sexually appealing beasts, and that this sexual appealing stud(or brute, you can choose your own US slavery created stereotype here) has no other values to offer. The description of the man she has married to is then very subtly magnified to represent the general population of Black men.

There are several qualifying characteristics we will have to infer from the piece, and it best that we get them out of the way. What does Williams mean by Black? Is she referring to a description of all humans with a melanin make up of high density compared to those of European origin? Is she simply referring to the ones of US birth? Due to her not offering us any statistics or facts beyond conjecture, we are left to assume that she is referring to Black men born in the United States of America. For the sake of the argument, we also assume that she is referring to White man born in the United States of America.

Williams moves into her second paragraph with another generalization and assumption based on popular belief. She asks her audience–we will assume by virtue of the context that she is writing for an audience of single black heterosexual women– what are they waiting for, a baby and no ring. Once again, we have the correlation of the “No Wedding, No Womb” movement with the thoughts of this author. Once again, I am addressing a correlation, and not an implication. The writer assumes that, and I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt, that the majority of Black eligible bachelors are simply going to get women pregnant and leave them. I’m a little taken aback here because of the degree of patriarchal sentiment. The idea that every black woman wants to be married, that marriage is the panacea of all of one’s woes, that Black men don’t marry Black women, that Black women don’t know how to be responsible over their bodies with regard to sexual intercourse–just a litany of general assumptions wrapped up in one scare tactic. And ultimately, the solution is the white man.

One more thing before I move on, because it occurred to me while reading the William piece: why didn’t she use any other culture? Alright, you feel the need to attack Black men, and that is what this piece is, a direct attack against black men, and a testimonial to just how far Black people HAVEN’T come in this society as a unified community. And yet, Williams could have said any other culture of men that have a culture where she believes a Black woman could find some one simpler or easier to marry. You have a whole continent of men raised in cultures where marriage is tied to the Aryan notions of patriarchal religious standards. You can look all throughout the continent of Afrika and find men willing to do much of the things she assumes that most black men are not going to do. But she didn’t. Why not?

Moving on…

Number ONE

” Gay White men tend to be more forthcoming about their sexuality with family and friends. The down low phenomenon is less prevalent, which preserves the battery usage on your gaydar and relieves the stress of dissecting every male relationship.”

This is just damn silly. The Oprah effect is such a dynamic force in the Black community. So forceful, so influential, that a women by the name of Lashaun Williams would use as a reason for Black women not to date brothers, and instead look toward the children of their former slave masters, and present oppressors for a commitment is the “Down Low Brother Syndrome”. The tendency for white republicans to vote against gay rights and yet they are gay is not considered. The Catholic priesthood with the embarrassing record of homosexual molestations while preaching against homosexuality and touting marriage gets overlooked as well. I suppose these cases are different due to the societal pressures placed on these men by the public…and why do we suppose the Black men that are hiding their homosexual tendencies are doing it for? There are no white men who feel the same pressures?

I would further this discussion by saying that homosexuality in the black community is actually more excepted there than in the white community. I tend to believe that the predominance of homosexuality in the white community is higher, however. More people tend to create a situation of more behaviors being displayed. But the notion that my little sister or older sister has more of a chance of dating a closet homosexual in the black community than the white is simply preposterous.
Number TWO

” Thanks to the absence of family, fathers and marriage in the Black community, a great number of our men have backward expectations when it comes to romantic relationships. A higher percentage of White men come from stronger family structures and more traditional gender roles, where the men seek to care for the women.”

Once again, Williams is trumpeting one)a grave generalization, and two) a notion of white patriarchy. She is equating “romance” with the concept of a man taking care of a woman. Regardless of my own personal beliefs or agreement, not all men believe like that, in fact many white men don’t. If we look at the statements of Chad Hurley, the late Randy Pausch, and John McClain, we see a number of white man who have “married up”. It is simply not a verity that all white men think that they are supposed to take care of a woman, let alone treat her in anyway akin to “romantic”.

It is here that the woman known to us as “Lauren Williams” begins to tell on whoever she is, or whoever is using that psuedonym(more like nome de guerre, but I told myself I’d be nice…). Is it romance that you really want, or someone to pay off all of those college loans you’ve accrued over the years? I’m slightly kidding, I don’t know if this Lauren Williams is even real, I mean, I don’t know if they ever went to college, or have any debts, but they are pushing the money thing pretty tough here.

Number THREE

” Black women are graduating from college and Black men continue to drop out. As a result, degrees become intimidating when dating Black men. In White culture, education is valued and expected. Thus, White men have no problem dating educated women with advanced degrees. It is impressive rather than intimidating.”

A few thoughts come to mind here: White women graduate at higher numbers than all US college students. This is an aggregate of a few factors: women tend to enroll in higher numbers, women tend to fare better than men in college, and in a society where there are more white families with the economic resources to send their children to paid institutions of higher learning, you are going to find more white women than any other ethnic grouping.

Black men don’t have an issue dating white women with degrees, so this argument needs to be refined. I won’t attack the flimsy premise, because I’d like to get a rethinking on this notion. The idea being, I’d like it to address the fact that in the United States of America, most men drop out of college. The reasons of economics needs to be reflected in that discussion.
Number FOUR(yes, I do feel like the Count from Sesame Street doing this…)

“For whatever reason, White men just don’t have children sprinkled all over the world like Black men. And, if they do, most of them were married to the mother at some point. Sure, they divorce but you can only divorce if you at least attempt a marriage.”

So, it is alright to have babies “sprinkled all over the world”(hyperbole much, chick?), as long as you have at least attempted a marriage? I don’t want anyone to claim that I am throwing straw, so let me break this one down for my critics.

Her premise: If a white man has babies all over the world(the world, Craig…sorry), then they must have been divorced.
The antecedent: Sure, White men divorce.
Conclusion: It is okay that they have babies all over the world because they were once married.

Divorce rates not withstanding…

Continuing…

Number FIVE

” They may listen to rap music, but they are smart enough not to act it out. The “thug life” is not something to be aspired. White men have a firmer grasp on what really defines manhood.”

Sure, chick…sure
The United States of America is a patriarchal country. Hypermasculine behavior can be seen in the form of Marine males screaming “Uh RA! Devil Dog!”, to white athletes gang raping women(HERE and HERE). If we take a look at the media messages, we will see that Black males are often more feminized in their portrayals than their white counterparts. Ultimately, hypermasculinity and gender role definitions are an issue of a patriarchal rulership, especially one with the foreign policy and military propaganda of the United States. To assert that white males are not affected by the stream of images portraying them as tough undefeatable boxers, one man armies, and Mafiaoso killers is to be lazy in one’s research. Maybe that one researcher should start with the increasing number of white militias appearing around the country. Or maybe that researcher should use a definition of manhood that wasn’t authored by the white manhood she is attempting measure black manhood by.
Number SIX

” Black people, especially men, are always trying to shine—often spending more money than they have. White men tend to be more educated in the area of finance with a greater understanding of retirement planning, savings, investments, etc. This is mostly due to a higher level of exposure and teaching, but all that matters is they know and make better decisions than Black men when it comes to managing money.”

This assumes an assimilist posture. For one, everybody’s definition of the slang term,”shine” is different. Therefore it is highly specious to assume that what White men do with their money is different in scope than what black men do. But that would be straw, right?

It is difficult for me to stereotype the spending habits of all men, let alone generalized on the spending habits of Black men. Most Black men that I know would actually be considered fiscally conservative. In Thomas M. Shapiro’s book,”The Hidded Cost Of Being African American”, he notes the danger of assuming a lack of financial responsibility on the part of blacks in comparison to a group of people who are able to pass on wealth held generationally. That is to say, it is easy for someone to spend foolishly and be overlooked for that err in judgment if mom and dad are going to foot the bill. It is also interesting for me to note here that many white males are allowed to stay with their parents longer than many Black males. And many white males have a considerable inheritance and financial foundation to make mistakes that Blacks aren’t afforded.

And it must be highlighted, that once again, the writer has returned to their main selling point: white men will take care of you…with their money. That is so…moving on…

Number SEVEN

” Ever wonder why White people can date the friends of exes and so on? It’s because they don’t let the past hinder the present. Promiscuous Black men think they deserve to settle down with virgins, and allow past relationships to haunt the present. Not White men. They have no problem turning a hoe into a housewife.”

I will agree that the white media portrays the white woman as virtuous beyond their past indiscretions. However, white males are trained in the same ways as black males to deem women as objects. As such, women are rated by how easy a sexual conquest can occur. Take a look at the phrase,”Oh, anybody can beat that guy ass” and compare it to,”Oh, anybody can fuck her.” Its a sport, and it is a sport that has been passed down to blacks through whites. According to bell hooks in her book,”Ain’t I A Woman”, one of the many reasons that white men avoided serious commitments to Black women during the early twentieth century was because they deemed Black women as overly sexual, irredeemably so. If we take a cursory look at a movie such as “Showgirls”, we see that it is the White woman who is deemed as worthy of romantic commitments regardless of her sexual promiscuity, and it is the black woman that is sodomized regardless of her innocence.

Of course, I’m being extremely kind due to criticisms from the academic community. I could just as easily have stated, “Why would any woman identify herself as a ‘hoe’?” Very telling there, Williams…very telling.

Number EIGHT

” Intimidation and insecurity are two reasons for the rift between Black men and women. As a result of their insecurities and low self-esteem, Black men are intimidated by the strength of an educated and ambitious Black woman. Rather than seeing her as a strong teammate, she is a threat to their manhood. Thus, they feel the need to overcompensate. White men, on the other hand, are more secure. What Black men see as threatening is what makes a great wife and business partner to them.”

You’ve got to be kidding me, right? So, white women are still attempting break the influence of the “Old Boys Network” because white men are so secure in their positions? Sure. Women have more degrees than white men, women have more jobs than white men, and yet women get less money and typically live in poverty. Is that because of Black men? Or is that because of the rulership of your precious white man? Can someone please give me the statistics of businesses ran by a white man and black woman? Can someone else give me the statistics of businesses ran by a black man and a black woman? Oh…she didn’t mean a real business…hmmm…I think I’m starting see a pattern here…

The Hoe Killer

As I’ve stated elsewhere, or somewhere on the interweb, the more I hear, read, or find women using the term “bitch” the more I feel the need to either regulate my usage of the term “nigga”, or to remove it completely out of my verbal circulation. Although many of the posts on this site can be regarded as academic or erudite, their inception usually demands an anecdote. I was in a conversation the other day with a sister that I respect highly. The discussion referenced a phrase that has become a sort of proverb in the black community. The phrase is, “You can’t turn a hoe into a housewife.” It always strikes me when women, especially women that I consider highly intelligent and strong, utilize and subscribe to patriarchal notions. In this particular instance, two notions of male rulership and designations of the woman’s “place” within that structure. The phrase might have slipped under the left radar had it been used in a different context, however, because this beautiful black goddess used this phrase in reference to herself, it struck a chord.

“In Renaissance Europe, coutiers played an extremely important role in upper-class society. It was customary for royal couple to lead separate lives — marrying simply to preserve bloodlines and to secure political alliances– men and women would often seek gratification and companionship from people living at court. In fact, the verb “to court” originally meant “to be or reside at court”, and later came to mean “to behave as a courtier” and then “to pay amorous attention to somebody”. The most intimate companion of a ruler was called the favourite.

‘Prostitution and the sex discrepancy in reported number of sexual partners'(Brewer, 2000) goes on to estimate a mean number of 868 male sexual partners per prostitute per year of active sex work…

In some cultures, prostitutes were the sole women allowed to sing in public or act in theatrical performances.”
-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prostitution

Whore means prostitute. And a prostitute is a woman who offers to hire her body for indiscriminate sexual intercourse, or so says The Concise Oxford Dictionary. Prostitute is further defined as a verb: to prostitute oneself is to sell one’s honor for base gain or to put one’s abilities to infamous use. Other dictionaries include men secondarily in the noun definition and specify in the verb definition the shame attached to dishonor and the unworthiness and wrongdoing attached to infamous use. The noun clearly denotes a person, especially a woman, offering heterosexual sex, in particular intercourse, for money; the verb denotes any person’s activity, which need not be sexual, put to uncommendable use. Those meanings are likely to conform to popular opinion except that many people collapse the second definition into the first. A prostitute then becomes one who sells her honor by offering to hire her body for base gain or for an unworthy doing, specifically sexual intercourse.”

– Gail Phetersoon, “The Whore Stigma, Female Dishonor and Male Unworthiness”

As expected, the above, with exception to Willie D’s artistic expressions of cynicism, if not outright misogyny, follow the western academic practice of overlooking, or outright not detailing, the historical practices of white male exploitation of Black Women. The term “hoe” derives from the word “whore”, which, as already mentioned in the quotes, is synonymous with the term “prostitute”. In a system of patriarchy, where women have to vie for male acceptance, and the oft coveted position of wife next to a man of means, the prostitute sits low on the totem pole of the hierarchy of desirable positions for women to have. The term “whore”, and “hoe”, have come to mean one behaving in such a manner, ultimately, a person that has numerous sexual partners outside of exclusive bondings, or a relationship of such a nature. It can also refer to a woman that dresses as such. The term, in the black community doesn’t solely refer to women, however, because the system of patriarchy affords a standard for men that is highly approving of sexual conquests. The term “hoe” when applied to a male is often considered a compliment to the receiver.

I suppose I would have to thank Todd Shaw for introducing the concept(“never make a hoe into a housewife”) to my impressionable young mind. As the song’s lyrics show, the term “hoe” is used interchangeably to refer to women in general, and women who sell sex as a profession. It is the use of the phrase “hoe” out of the context of prostitution that I would like the Asylum to consider here.

You see some people like to play the dating game
Meet a new freak and ask “what’s your name?”
Wine and dine and waste all that time
Spending money on a hoe cause you think she’s fine
Holding hands at the movies, waiting months to fuck
Played like a sucker, you should know what’s up
Getting dogged by a snotty, fake, broke-ass hoe
Listen to a real dog, cause I know
You get a pretty yellow bitch with that long-ass hair
Fine motherfucker trying to get with a player
Can’t fuck worth shit, old stiff-ass bitch
Tried to get some head and she just kissed my dick
I need a bitch with a beeper, a full time tramp
She can’t suck dick like she’s licking a stamp
But she can lick it all around, or swallow it whole
Deep throat this big dick and act real bold
You go to sleep, she’ll straight rob your ass
Cause Hoes like to steal and take all your cash
And when hoes go to jail, pimps make bail
Take ’em to the stroll and let the pussy sell
Cause to a trick, they’re just quick nuts
But to a grandmother, they’re like big sluts
And if you’re short dog, they look like bank rolls
If I ever go broke I’ll just break hoes
Cause hoes were made to be broken
It happens every day in Oakland
I need a bitch, that’s one thing I know
Put my money where my mouth is and just break that hoe
Two and fro, they like to run in pairs
Hit small towns and sell pussy everywhere
I ain’t giving no bitches, no kind of slack
Cause Oakland, California is where they made “The Mack”

Prostitution is the oldest profession
Kick back young partner, learn your lesson
Pimp till you die, as long as you know
Pimps ain’t nothing but hoes
Getting paid, for everything you say
If a hoe wants to fuck you, she gots to pay
Keep the bitch broke and control the world
Cause when hoes get rich, they call ’em “call girls”
Now ain’t nothing like a neighborhood trampy slut
Take a hoe to a spot and let her lick these nuts
Get a square bitch, you gotta lie to kick it
But with a nasty bitch, she’ll just lick it and lick it
I had a square bitch, man, she looked way too cool
She said she loved me, but is that true’
She asked me could she be my lady
Wanted so much to have my baby
So what bitch’ I popped your cherry
Hell fucking no, I don’t wanna get married
Cause can’t no bitch hound me
Talking that shit about a family
I wants no champagne, I drink gin and juice
Bring a bag of ice and watch a ho get loose
Spread the word, we’re getting tossed tonight
And please don’t trip on the cellulite
I got a fat bitch, sucking on my dick
Every day homie it’s the same old shit
Don’t look stupid, hoe, drop them goddamn drawers
Get your ass in the bed and let’s fuck like dogs
On the very first night, we fucked
I got the pussy, I got sucked
I couldn’t wait, she asked me why
I let the answer shoot straight in her eye, bitch

Hoes are like cum freaks, they suck you dry
The do what you say, and don’t ask why
Who said that hoe ain’t old enough’
If she could bleed, then she can fuck
Call me “dirty dog” but your cock stank
Motherfuckers think pimps ain’t making bank
But the, pimp game just don’t stop
You gotta be down to reach the top
I tell all my homies “play these hoes”
Don’t eat the pussy or pay these hoes
Cause some of these hoes get tore up smoking
Bitches like that you find all through Oakland
Miniskirts and no panties on
When it’s time to fuck, it don’t take too long
And it’s mandatory for hoes to simp
Catch other hoes and bring ’em to pimps
So take this game and keep it for life
Never make a hoe into a housewife
Just get a good bitch, a workaholic like holly
Bitch so bold, she’ll take a piss in the alley
And make big bank, it’s the pussy is dope
They keep coming back until the tricks go broke
But if that hoe jumps off the track
Another young bitch will bring them tricks right back

During the epoch of US slavery, black women were regarded as less than human. They were deemed subhuman females and were situated below white women of all classes and practices on the social hierarchy of white capitalist patriarchy. Black women were thought to possess high levels of libidinous energy, which would work as a justification for the rape and sexual exploitation of Black women by the white US male. For breeding purposes, Black women would be offered trinkets to have sex.

“On some plantations a woman might be given a small pig each time a child was born to her. Women were promised a new dress or a new pair of shoes at the birth of a child. A small monetary sum, form on to five dollars, might be given a slave woman at the birth of her fourth of fifth child. A few slaveowners promised freedom to black women who bore large families. A case appeared before the Virginia courts in 1761 in a dispute over a will that included a provision to free a female slave Jenny if she bore ten live children. Some enslaved women desired pregnancy, for they saw it as a means of obtaining certain advantages, the primary one being a lightening of the work load.” – bell hooks, “Ain’t I A Woman”

So, historically, and at the roots of the Black in America’s culture, we see a pattern where the women are reduced to sexual beings, and a forced form of prostitution has developed. The sexuality of the Black woman, and the hyperbolic, and grossly mythologized stereotype that Black women held “loose” sexual morals, and were sexual beasts would saturate the media and thus the psycho-cultural atmosphere of the US. The white woman, as a symbol of all that is pure in woman, would be held in high esteem. These patterns of thought have trickled down through the socio-historical storm drain, and revisit us in various forms.

As I have alluded to in another article, the white woman’s sexuality is presented to us in such a fashion, that even if she is portrayed as a “street walker”, considered the lowest status that a white women in this white capitalist patriarchal society could hold, she is still worthy of the white male of means emotional/romantic consideration. We see this plot played out in the movie, “Pretty Woman”.

As this trailer shows, the movie is full of the woman under the spell of patriarchal magic. We have the poor white woman being swept away by the rich white male. The writer, J.F. Lawton, places these words in her mouth as the describing of her childhood dream. This concept of the “prince” coming to save the “damsel in distress” riding on a horse, no doubt, the “Cinderalla” story, is saturated throughout white patriarchal folklore and story-telling. We’ve seen this script and template played out in various Tyler Perry plays and motion pictures. Unfortunately, in the black community, males are less apt to “save” the Black women down on her luck. In fact, the black man is taught against “saving hoes”.

What we see in this video is a use of the term “hoe” to imply underclass Black women. The video depicts a man driving a drop top 5.0 mustang(a mustang is a horse, and during the time of this video’s production, the vehicle was a status symbol in the Black community) pulling up to a woman walking with two children. The message is that a Black woman with two children is in an undesirable socio-economic condition, and any man willing to “save” her is worthy of disrespect. It is interesting to note that “Pretty Woman” is released in theaters in 1990, and “Captain-Save-A-Hoe” is featured on E-40’s 1993 release of “Mailman”. You have two very poignant depictions of social reflections with regard to how the Black man and the White man view their respective women. In one case, you have a woman that is soliciting sex, blatantly asking for money, and is regarded as worthy of a man who can make a statement about buying a billion dollar business over breakfast. In the other, you have a group of women being labeled hoes simply because of their economic status, and possibly race. Even if the argument that the song’s co-author, Earl Stevens, was making a statement about black men spending money on “gold diggers” is true, in comparison to the White patriarchy’s media message, the song still communicates a strong message to the Black community,”The Black woman is simply not worth the effort, and you are dumb if you try.” This message is in stark contrast to that of the White male’s message to his male grouping and to that of his female counterparts.

Since I am on the discussion of White men and their portrayal as saviors of their womenfolk, and because this is one of my favorite movies, I will venture to show the white woman as prostitute being romantically fought for in another theatrical piece. In the movie, “True Romance”, a script written by my favorite white writer/director to attack for racist portrayals, Quentin Tarantino, Clarence(Christian Slater) is a clerk in a comic book store that call-girl Alabama(Patricia Arquette) is paid to go on a date with. The two wind up having sex, and a teary eyed Alabama pronounces her love for Clarence, and they get married. Clarence confronts Alabama’s pimp, and in an interesting scene only Tarantino could have conjured up, Clarence kills Drexl, Alabama’s pimp. Now the movie has a few plot twist that I don’t feel concern us here, but over the course of the movie, Clarence shows his devotion to the former “whore” Alabama.

Of interest is that this movie was also released in 1993. Another noticeable contrast between what the white male media is presenting with regard to the white woman and how the Black Woman is presented by black males is the professional prostitute who finds love versus the regular woman who’s male counterparts are being advised to overlook them. Two movies released around the same time with similar messages:”prostitutes are people too, more so if they are white…of course.” The songs we have listened to have the message of “black women from underclass environs are all hoes.” Ironically, those black males who might argue that a man doesn’t want to be with a woman with several partners or the like, are comparing women who might have double digit amounts of past partners with women who are being portrayed as women who have, according to the above statistic, over eight hundred! That message alone says much about the media messages being disseminated. A Black woman is a hoe if she is unmarried with two children, or enjoys sex in the manner of men;a white woman is a hoe if she is a prostitute, and even in said instance, it is the duty of the white male to save her. In the black community, males are taught that they don’t want to be saved.

The sexual virtue of Black women has been attacked, and vilified since the early days of slavery. With the need to justify and legitimize the rape and sexual torture of black women, the white male system defined the Black Woman as a sexual temptress of sorts. When we look at the modern dances, dress codes, and styles of behavior, we are reminded of these myths and stereotypes that have been recreated and accepted in the Black community. My biggest concern is that Black women seeking approval and acceptance from Black men fall into the trap of internalizing these concepts. As Black males fail to secure power, and find themselves wrestling and killing one another for status symbols, the psycho-social templates of hyper masculinity will continue to readdress themselves. In a patriarchal society, the men of the oppressed peoples tend to degrade their own women for not treating them as the women of the oppressing race treat their men. It shouldn’t be a shock that most Black men seek out white woman once they have achieved a high level of financial success in this country. As the Lexus and Benz are symbols of wealth, and status, so is the white woman objectified as a symbol of the same. The Black Woman as the mistress, the other woman, the sexual appetite appeaser is still a common thought as we have seen in Tyler Perry’s “The Family That Preys”. The idea being that black women are cool to fuck, but you don’t want to settle down with them.

However, as long as Black women define themselves by the terms of a powerless, misogynistic male group, they will never rise to the potential within. If you define yourself as a hoe, based on my definition of the word, then you will always be a slave to the whims of my making. In a country where Black women are beset by sexism and racism, it is my opinion that Black women should be cautious on all fronts. Since we live in a capitalist economy, a patriarchal capitalism, it is dangerous for Black women to place themselves into any psychological framework that will objectify them based on any standard. There is no ideology or framework of thinking in this country that places Black woman in a truly free position. It is a man’s world as James Brown once noted.

If you are being clothed from head to toe, or wearing a business suit, or some form of professional attire, you will be disrespected by men. Mostly by males of your own race. If you decide to be a human and enjoy sexual encounters, you will be dubbed a “hoe”. Mostly by males of your own race, and some females of your own race. If you can’t critically assess the situation as it stands, and you choose to play this societal game with no regard for alternative ways of being, then so be it.

I’d only remind you that you are being attacked by the media on all fronts. If you succeed in any field you will be labeled a “bitch”, or a “hoe”. If you don’t find a male to marry or even to pursue an exclusive dating arrangement with, you will be labeled a “lonely bitch”, and depending on your age, possibly a “lonely bitter bitch”. If you decide to pursue sexual exploits outside of a relationship, you will be regarded as a “hoe”. If you express that you enjoy male companionship without the concomitant emotional or romantic ties, you will be called a “hoe”.

With all that on the table for you from others, I’d simply suggest you not call yourself a “bitch” or a “hoe”. There are plenty of us out here that already are. You might want to protect your own psychological space. Trust me, it is better to be your own friend than your own enemy…

“There are some fine sisters in the Party, Kathy, Marsha, and some others, who were walking in front of a little barber shop, two doors down from the National Headquarters in Berkeley. It’s a shop where a lot of brothers, many of whom have just recently come out of the joint, go to get processes on their heads. Some of these brothers call themselves pimps, and you can figure that some of them, at one point or another, are pushing weed or something — the type of activities that black men are driven to, trying to live. These brothers are playing their old game, saying to each other,’Man, I know I can rap to one of the Panther sisters and take all of those chicks away from all of the cats over there in the Panther office.’
Now, this is an old game that’s related to male chauvinism, to the brother dominating the sister. What that’s related to– as Malcolm X put it one time– is that the President is the biggest pimp in the country. And this pimping the sister on the block is related to the continued existence of a class system. It’s cross-related to the economic problems in the black community where the male is put in to a position where he can’t really be the breadwinner for the home.
So when the sisters walked in front of the little barber shop, I noticed some brothers were huddled among each other, speculating on the Panther sisters. They tried to rap to Marsha and a couple of sisters, and Marsha set them straight.
She said,’Look, brother, you’re getting none of this! You don’t use this on the streets, either. The only way you can get close to me is to get hip to some of the real ideology of the Black Panther Party.’
Then another sister said,’Yeah. If you want to get next to us, why don’t you check out the Red Book?’
Well, those brothers were a little shocked. Then the other brothers inside the place started laughing at the brothers outside. Well, this got off with the brothers. It seemed like the whole barber shop got upset, not in an antagonistic manner, but wanting to know what it was that didn’t allow these sisters to go for that old pimp game. Naturally their speculation was that the sisters made love to us, and therefore they agreed with our rap. What they didn’t understand, is that you can’t define it in terms of what kind of rap is going down, that it was the ideology of the Party that was helping us bring us out of that very same kind of thinking.
So their curiosity was aroused, and the brothers tried rapping with some of the other sisters, and got the same answers. The next thing I knew, all those brothers had come over to the Party headquarters, twenty-five or thirty of them, to buy some Panther literature and some Red Books. They stopped talking and started listening. And the sisters laid the revolutionary ideology right on them.
We had tried for a long time, in a lot of ways to get these brothers motivated, but it took some sisters with a new and respectful way of looking at themselves, to bring these brothers in!” – Bobby Seale, “Seize The Time”

Unthinkable, Boondocks And More About Black Bucks…

“The male stereotypes were Toms, Coons, and Bucks. We are all familiar with Uncle Tom. He is devoted to whites, religious, hard working, loyal, trustworthy, patient, and restrained. The Coon is happy-go-lucky, a clown, a buffon, a child, clever and witty but unable to perform the most simple task without guidance. He’s a trickster, cunning and resourceful. The third stereotype, the Buck..is brutal, violent, virile, tough, strong, and findes white women especially appealing…The Buck is the stereotype, the nightmare, that whites could not handle…” – “Black Macho and The Myth of the Superwoman” Michele Wallace

So, what’s up the Boondocks? Your guy trying to cater to a white audience? I mean the whole “uncle” Ruckus thing is laughable, and I’m entertained, and it is just a cartoon in the land where cartoons used to be the only thing you could go see(I’m just saying). And I’m not knocking the jester, I just know that the jester was usually the smartest in the kingdom. Just a few thoughts. McGruder took the “Uncle Tom” character to such a degree of “uncle” that I don’t think it will ever be used in such a way again. I mean he went further than Chapelle, and last night’s episode, although telling, made me feel more desensitized than anything. As I have stated, it was funny, but so was Kramer yelling niggers would have been killed on stage. Oh, I can’t compare the two, can I?

And your guy Sam Jack!! I watched “Unthinkable” last night, well, this morning anyway, and I’m like damn, go scary(read that as angry) black man! Not quite sure how I would feel as a white US man thinking about converting to Islam. I mean, that movie had me looking out my window and thinking about bagging up all my books. I’m joking, but I think you get my point here. Now, with the internet being what it is and Sam Jack being the type of name that sells movies, and the movie already has a Wikipedia plot summary, and is being hosted on at least one pretty popular online streaming site, I’d say this is going to get a lot of attention.

Now, I’m not quite sure if either of these are just sensationalistic, or propaganda, or both. But I was moved to read a passage from one of those books on the shelf that I’m pissing in my pants thinking about grabbing.

But if it wasn’t a black man to play the role then a black man would have been out of a job, of course, maybe they could have gotten the rock to do it. Well, then I’d only have said they are playing this mixed people thing pretty hard, why didn’t they give the job to a bald headed dark black man that at least looks like the BUCK! Eh…maybe I’m reading too much into all of this. Of course, if I didn’t, another black man wouldn’t have anything to blog about…