WE ARE: 5 women navigating our twenties in search of peace, happiness and love (or not). WE WRITE: about everything and nothing. From the insane to the mundane- you will find different paths taken, lessons learned and lives lived. WE THINK: you’ll enjoy it...Warning: Consumption of these views may leave you enlightened while intoxicated.


The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot

Friday, April 9, 2010

How Low Can You Go?

Hey y’all! How’s it going today? So, admittedly I am getting old. When listening to the radio, I tend to go from gospel, to oldies, then to the other oldies/neo soulish station, then if there are no good options, I head to the stations where hip hop lives. Or dies a slow death. What up Nas. Anywho. I had heard that Usher song, the one with Nicki Minaj, but like a 12 year old was just caught up in the beat. And not really hearing it, ya dig? But being the old person that I am when Nicki would rap, I would be like, “why does it sound like she’s talking to another girl?” And then…

Dark & Stormy sent me this article, titled I Done Had About Enough, and Raving Black Lunatic was talking about how in that said song Usher and Nicki are talking about a ménage a trois. And I was like sayyyy whhaaat? Is that what they are talking bout? Hold up. Wait a minute. No. I immediately responded to Dark & Stormy with a what the hell? I checked with Mint Julep. “Yeah chile. And you gotta check the video,” she said. I headed over to youtube and after finding the uncut video was asked if I were 18 years old. Mercy. I watched. And listened to the lyrics for the first time. And was dead at:

If you're fcukin with me
Really fcukin with me you go get some girls and bring them to me
If you fcukin with me

Really fckuing with me you let her put her hands in your pants
be my little freak

Ummm… No, thank you? I’m not going to go into how I can’t believe that they play this mess on the radio. And I know that I came up in the era of Lil’ Kim’s I used to be scared of the dyck and put it in your mouf in your m-in-fin mouf, and West Coast gobble a dyck Explosive. But um er…those songs from what I can remember were not played on the radio. But that’s not the point of this post. The point is…

This is why these nigs have no damn sense! Rum Punch are you blaming rap music? Yes, I am! Is that fair? No, it’s not. But it’s Friday, my day, so just let me write it yo! Heh. And I’m really not just blaming rap music, but just how oversexed and inappropriate we are becoming as a society. Like how is it ok for someone to say, you know what the music world is missing right now, is in desperate need of at this very moment, what the people really need to hear - a song where I can tell a chick to put her hands in another chick’s pants. A song where I can peer pressure a chick to bring me back some hos. Cause you must not be fcukin' with me if you won't do it. And no one is like that’s crazy? You can’t put that on the radio? M’kay. I weep for these babies. And for us ladies of this current generation for that matter.

Cause a dollar to a donut, some guy will repeat this lyric (or a variation of) to a woman and think it’s ok. I mean cause wasn’t she just shaking her ass to it on the dance floor two seconds ago, anyway? Some girl will get asked point blank if she would ever go to a sex club. Some unsuspecting woman is gonna open her phone and see a text message of his d**k in a box. Like that’s ok. Some guy will "slyly" ask you to have a threesome. Or want you to send him a video of you. Some guy will get his Tiger Woods on and text some foul ass, this muhfcuka done lost his mind, does yo’ mama like you, type texts. I mean did y’all see those Tiger Woods texts? My homegirl and I were joking that he put Kwame Kilpatrick to shame. Kwame was like ‘yo come give me some head.’ Tiger was like, “lemme pee on you” © Dave Chappelle. Like this is ok.*

But apparently it is. Cause who’s saying it’s not ok? I remember hearing Sister Soulja speak years ago in undergrad and she was talking about hip hop's disrespectful lyrics about women and how we ladies be like, “oh, but he [insert your favorite rapper here] ain’t talking bout me. He talkin’ bout that ho’ over there.” Uh huh. Yeah. Ok.

But it’s only a matter of time until you’re that ho. Or approached like you are one at least. No matter how classy you are. No matter that you don't get down like that. Or come off like that. And you don't dress like a ho. Or act like a ho. No matter if you got a degree, a job and you pay a mortgage and all yo' utility bills. No matter that you're a QUEEN and you command respect and he shoulda known better than come at you like that. No matter if your response will be 'oh hell no' and you done lost your mind. No matter if he was just tryin you to see how far you were gonna go. The point is, he's gonna think it's ok to expect you to go low, lower than you know. Oh and then while you're down there, could you just go ahead and let her put your hands in your pants?

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

*And please note I'm not talkin' about what you do with your boo to keep things fun and interesting. I'm talking about strangers. When you have to pause and be like 'nygga didn't we just meet'... Why would you think this is ok type ish...

Thursday, April 8, 2010

what you think is love is truly not

what makes a person physically abuse someone they say the love so much?  to put your hands on that person and make them hurt.  bleed.  die....

as i sat and watched one of my co-worker's defend a second degree murder case for the past couple of days, i asked myself these questions.  the defendant was charged with shooting his wife nine times as she sat at a bar around 4:30 in the morning, unwinding with her co-workers after her shift as a cocktail waitress at a local hotel. after he shot her, he turned and shot her young co-worker once in the stomach and then left the bar.

the couple had a history of domestic abuse.  just about a week before her death, the wife had been at that same bar doing the same thing she was the night of her death and her husband had shown up and dragged her out of the bar by her hair.  he'd been arrested and a stay away order had been issued by a local judge.  she and their two kids had left him and were staying with friends.  

my co-worker argued manslaughter: an act that would otherwise be a homicide however the accused is acting under such a heat of blood caused by an act of provocation that a reasonable person under similar circumstances may have acted the same. coming home to find your husband in bed with another woman is the classic manslaughter trope. 

during his videotaped statement with the police, the defendant cried and confessed, blaming the shooting on an uncontrollable fit of rage spurred on by his thought that his wife was cheating on him with another man.  he repeatedly talked about how he loved her, how she was his, and how he couldn't stand to be away from her for one second.

though i hate to admit it, the prosecutor in this case really nailed it during her final arguments to the jury.  the love that the defendant professed for his wife was not that at all.  it was control. he wanted to know where she was and who she was with at all times for control. he hurt her to control her. he killed her to control her. he is now trying to control the jury by getting you to feel sorry for him and vote for manslaughter.  the prosecutor struck such a nerve with her arguments that at one point the defendant got up from the table and proceeded to walk out of the courtroom.  that never happens.  ever.  deputies rushed him.  the proceedings were put on hold.  and he never returned back into the courtroom during the rest of the state's closing arguments.

the jury ultimately found the defendant guilty as charged.  the defense attorney in me was sad for my colleague's loss.  but the black woman that i am always wants justice.  like eve.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

3 questions - i lied - 4 questions

so over the weekend, my cousin expressed that she was takin' her girls (all 3 of 'em -ages 14, 10, and 4) to see "Why did I get Married Too" and that i should tag along. well, saturday night that's what i did. i will not spoil the movie for you.

but it's good, the fact that you couldn't predict ending was appreciated. and although, the characters are extreme representations of personal faults - the movie is engaging no less. It exploited some stereotypes and misgivings of the omnipotent variety that plagues our community.

without giving it away...

How should/does a wife react to her underemployed husband becoming adequately employed - meaning your husband has a good nix that great job and he loves his work?

Is infidelity worth disintegrating the home (i.e. stable incomes, lifestyle, etc.)?

Since when does money accrued during a marriage become nondivisible post-marriage?

Under what circumstances can you be supportive to an ex-spouse without fomenting the ire of your spouse?

that's all of folks...