the revolution within the revolution

i've fallen off a bit in the last few weeks. thanks to everyone for being patient. goin thru a lil something on the work front. tearin down walls and ish. f'in the liberal white man. will be back on the grind soon.

politricks as usual

I’ve never been much into politics, especially not on the national level. I could get down with the local race for mayor and followed the city council elections with some level of enthusiasm. I’ve even canvassed for my next door neightbor as she tried in vain to get elected to the school board. But national politcs....mehhh.

My disdain for national politics stem from my experiences during college as an intern for a United States Representative out of Decatur, GA. Growing up I’d always thought that this sista was so regal with her plaits, so dedicated to helping the folks back home while she tolled on the Hill. During my first visit to Washington in grade school, I bypassed a visit with my own Whitey McWhiterson Representative and sought her out, delighted to shake her hand and get my picture taken with her.

So when I heard about a slot opening up in her district office, I jumped at the opportunity to be a part of her team. But what I got was a rude awakening to the realities of national poltical office. I was assigned to answer phones and direct constituents to the appropriate staff member who could handle their concerns. Let me tell you those phones rang off the hook non-stop all day every day! People called in about any and every thing: my son was picked up last night on drug charges, I ain't got no hot water in my house, my street been flooded for 5 days straight, when is the trash man coming...what could and would Ms. Representative do about it? I quickly realized the more appropriate query was what SHOULD Ms. Representative do about all these people calling her when she was not the appropriate person or agency to be contacting about these concerns?

Ms. Representative needed at least 5 more interns like me just to answer phones in order to adequately field all the calls from folks who lived in her district because it took about 30 minutes to get through each call: 10 minutes to patiently listen to the person tell you their live story and all their problems, 5 mintues to explain to them that actually Ms. Representative was a NATIONAL public servant and therefore she could NOT help you with your city or county problems, and the last 15 minutes tracking down the contact information for the appropriate person or agency that could be of assistance. Plus I never even got to see Ms. Representative the whole 6 months I worked there.

You could say I came away from that experience feeling a little jaded about national poltics. Granted Ms. Reprsentatetive was a great woman and a dynamic speaker who could really get things done in Washington but her ability to get those things to trickle down to the local level and influence the lives of every day people in her district in a meaningful way were slim to none. Her concerns were about national wars, party politics and compromises within the CBC while Ms. Mae on the block just wanted a new storm drain so her street wouldn’t flood every time it rained. I realized the best way to help Ms. Mae was on the local level, someone who could actually move things along toward a solution.

So color me surprised when during this national election cycle I found myself enthralled with the Democratic presidential primary. I didn’t really know much about Obama until he won Iowa. I’d slept through that "one America" mumbo jumbo and figured Hillary Clinton was it but after Iowa and Obama's breakout showing there, I perked up and took notice. Actually did some research on all of the candidates AND the issues. I even got involved, traveled to Philly to canvass for the O man, argued with collegues and family members about the issues and started reading as many political blogs as my usual fashion, music and gossip ones.

Maybe it was the excitement of the times, the chance to beat a smug white woman (emphasis on smug), or the idea that a Black person just might show these whiteys and beat them at they own game but I was all in. Now, not so much. I’ve come down off my election high. In large part because I always kept central in my mind that no matter that he is black (or half or whatever), no matter that he sells this hope change positivity trifecta like its goin out of style, no matter that I’m claiming a spot on somebody’s floor in DC come January cause I will be there to witness history, I still remember that he’s a national politician (emphasis on both). He's susceptible to all manner of politricks, manipulation and game playing, we already see it. You see, despite his protestations to the contrary, he can’t be responsive to the little issues, the things that matter most in folks lives. The most we can hope for is that he stays at least 50% true to his ideals and ushers in a crop of folks on all levels of government who will be responsive to our needs.

Or we can take the the streets and let la revolucion begin! I'm down for that.

The Wire Tap

Saturday night I found myself at a potluck dinner and part of a discussion with a few twenty and thirty-somethings about religion and politics. A great time was had as we ate our Popeye’s chicken and volleyed the Bracky O ball across the table. One dude was a DIE.HARD Obama supporter. He told us he was writing donation checks and how he had collected all of Bracky’s buttons, bumper stickers and t-shirts and was hording them for future antiquity. He was practically losing his breath, and his mind trying to convince many that Obama is a true giant and not, as I tend to think, a giant among midgets. I found a lot of what this man said interesting but most striking was his sincere hope and belief that Bracky was going to come into office, switch the game up and take down the current system Americana. “Oh, please sir” I said, “Haven’t you ever watched The Wire?” His reply, “Why does everyone talk about The Wire?” Ummmm. What?!

Because it’s truth...
Because it shows there’s stuff going on that the public doesn’t know…
Because it shows that there are rules to this sh*t, someone wrote a manual, a step-by-step booklet (Biggie!)

Do ya’ll remember D.A.R.E? A program that was part of the war the government waged on-well scratch that-is still waging on drugs? I remember “Just Say No” and my T-shirt…and that’s about it. More vividly, I remember friends who found themselves puff-puff giving and experimenting with cocaine. Now what happens on the streets of The Wire? The cops pursue drug czars and their soldiers year after year under the banner of this war on drugs. Some victories are made, sure-but they are still fighting. Why? Because there is a system in the production and distribution of drugs. And because cities like Baltimore breed social, economic and political systems that feed off of desires for money, power, and respect (the keys to life) by any means necessary. And just because daddy is dead or gone doesn’t mean the kids aren’t going to find a way to eat. Get that bread. Stack that paper. Keep that vicious cycle spinning. No matter what, that torch will be carried by another.

And the War on Terror? Please! Mission accomplished? Okay, consider the American public officially distracted from what is really going on. If I wasn’t being gouged by taxes I would get a few key people in the Fed The Wire seasons 1-4 on DVD so they could understand their losing battles. What are we going to do (looking at you Bubba in Middle America)? Lock up entire nations to stay safe? We’ve been told that we can win the wars on homelessness, poverty, hunger, terror and drugs. But how can we when these enemies use guerilla warfare while we follow our strategic playbooks? I’m thinking win is too strong of a word, ebb might be more accurate. And are these fighting patriotic messages sent to lead us to believe that we are being taken care of so that we all don’t take to the streets and demand change? Because clearly, these systems (at least on The Wire) can stop one or maybe a few folks…but a movement? A revolution?

Hmmmmm. Maybe I’m crazy.

I will say that I like hoping for change even though I’m becoming more cynical lately. I think Orwell's "1984" is a must read for everyone, "Animal Farm" is pretty good too. I’m planning on enjoying the last episode of The Wire. Then I’m going to hope for more change. And then I’m going to wage my war on Coffee! I can’t stand my coworkers' coffee breath! Anyone else with me? My first step will be to throw a fit in a Starbucks. Get all up in the face of a barista about their pricing. Then go on to the next shop. Afterwards, I’m going to hope for change some more. Maybe give a rousing speech on the ills of Coffee and benefits of tea. I'll get folks inspired and riled, without saying much or disclosing that I drink coffee on occasion. Oh yes, I believe I can take Coffee down one tall latte at a time! I’ll let ya'll know when my mission is accomplished!

See You in Seven

Public Enemy Number One

"The world won’t get no better if we just let it be.
The world won’t get no better we gotta change it yeah, just you and me."
- Wake Up Everybody, Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes

It’s all over the local news today. Front page of the Washington Post, DC Examiner, local radio news tidbits…. They’re all saying the same thing: DC's HIV/AIDS infection rate is 10 times the national average. Recent studies show the District's AIDS rate is the worst of any city in the countyr, nearly twice the rate in New York, and more than four times the incidence in Detroit. The Chocolate of the city, what’s left of it, is quickly crumbling away.


Warning: The Chocolate is tainted. Consumption of this substance can lead to death!

Why us? Why D.C.? What is it specifically about our residents and our city that has created this dynamic breeding ground for one of the top deadly diseases of the world? Our Nation’s Capital. Home of the U.S. Senate & House of Representatives, the Washington Monument, Smithsonian Institution and the Rock House (© dead prez). BET, Radio One, and NPR are based in the D.C. area. A gazillion federal government agencies are headquartered here. All this power floating around the city and none of it is being used to protect the home front. All this $$$ floating around and can't nobody stop, or at least slow down, the spread of HIV & AIDS with the city limits?

Now you know this PSA wouldn’t be dark & stormy certified without me breaking it down into numbers. Let’s take a closer look at the picture. The D.C. HIV/AIDS administration says that 80% of the cases involved in this study are black. And 9 out of 10 women who tested positive [within the study] were black women. Hmmm… Black. Woman. In D.C.

That’s me.

I don’t think you heard me. That's me. Me and your mama and your sister and your wife and your daughter. Grandmas too. We are the face of HIV/AIDS.

It gets deeper. While black folks make up a mere 12% of nation’s population (circa year 2000) , we are 60% in the nation's capital. In other words 343,000+ of Chocolate at risk. INCREDIBLE. How in the hell is possible? Shit don't add up to me. But I shall save the discussion of the origins of said epidemic for another day.

I do wish to point out that we cannot blame vanillafication for all of our problems. We must take responsibility for allowing our communities to deteriorate. It's easy to say "I didn't do it." Or "it's not my problem." I am bothered by our communal complacency and lack of urgency. Black women, the source of human life, are dying. Dying from a preventable illness. And I feel helpless in the struggle. To hell with the war on terrorism, the war on drugs, and the rest of these dumb ass “wars” waged on words. We must fight the war on genocide. This is some real ish. I am asking you what can we do? What can I do? I’ve done the workshops with teenagers. I’ve done the condom distribution at nightclubs with the National Urban League. I’ve donated money (and still do) to organizations such as the Whitman-Walker Clinic. It’s not enough.

So here is my challenge to you:

1- Spread the message, wherever you are. You may not be in D.C. but as long as you live on Earth, this message is relevant. Stop being scared to speak up and start saving your people.

2- Get involved. Period. Can't be preachin to the choir using binoculars from your second story bay window.

3- Get tested. Yes it's scary. Even when you know you get saran wrapped from head to toe at just the thought of sumthin freaky. It's still scary. What's scarier is your willingness to pass it on to a spouse or child in the name of ignorance-by-choice.

The Revolution Starts With You.

Tumultuously Yours,

Dark & Stormy

The Revolution Will Be Styled

Remember when a certain kind of man wore locs? Think about it. What kind of man are you visualizing? The one I am picturing usually bought oil from the incense corner man, was a poetry reading regular where he recited verses about the forthcoming revolution and was regarded as "deep", a walking encyclopedia of the history of the African Diaspora.

I remember a time when a woman would describe a man she had just met and after giving the particulars: height, weight and skin shade, she would say in a hushed tone, "girl, and he has locs..." Like that was icing on the mothafuckin cake! Like that meant he had memorized the entire kama sutra and would have your legs quivering, that is after he made love to your mind first (of course). It seemed that if you were a man and you had locs, there was a good chance you could get a woman who just “couldn’t help herself around a brotha with locs” to drop her draws.
Well it seems those days are a'changin...

Because now I see nothing but (and excuse my stereotyping) lil' hood niglets wearing what appear to be haphazard locs, thanks to their biggest heroes, Lil' Wayne and Co.

I know you've seen them in your city, on your train and on the block. And um yeah, it's becoming an epidemic and it concerns me. Now I obviously can't tell someone what they can or can't do with their hair but I was under the impression that deciding to grow locs was not something you entered upon lightly. You know, it was something you consulted the Heavens and the Earth about first, lit a candle, did a little loc growing chant. You did your research on starting & caring for your new coiff and worried about how you would look in that 'in between' phase. Now it seems that you just have to ask the girl in your neighborhood who can do some hair to start locing you up. And now I find myself questioning these youngins’ “authenticity”, wondering if they know the history of dreadlocks, the strength that is their hair, saying to myself: oh they have dreads but they don’t have locs. Catch my drift?

So now with the niglets taking up the loc craze, it seems that many men I know have cut theirs (also something you don't do lightly)...Is it because the trend is changing? Are these men who were once regarded as "deep" fearful that they won't be taken seriously because now they will look like and be associated with the ‘Snap your fingers, do your step’ generation? And how will we know who the "deep" brothers are once they've cut their locs? Should we be on the hunt for some type of RBG clothing item?

Perhaps the locs of the earlier generation was just a trend as well, cloaked in incense, bad poetry and weed smoke and we just couldn’t see through the haze. But it was a trend nonetheless, reserved for a certain type of man. I mean if those men were really down and ready to start a revolution; wouldn’t it have happened by now? And just because these new crop of youngins’ have provided a different version of the trend, does that mean they won’t be just as down when the revolution comes?

So just when I’m ready to write these lil’ niglets off for just substituting the cornrow trend with locs, I think of the following words from the great Andre 3000:
Now question is every nigga with dreads for the cause?
Is every nigga with golds for the fall?
Naw, so don't get caught in appearance
It's Rum Punch Friday another Black experience*

Happy Rum Punch Friday! Have a great weekend! Join us again on Monday…

* Yeah I changed that last line. What are y’all going to do, tell Andre?