a thousand words

Thursday, July 16, 2009

LOVE & SEX: THE INTERVIEW












THE TWO ROMANTIC POWERS TALK
ABOUT THEIR ESTRANGEMENT

Many people have requested that I interview these two icons. It has been hard getting them together (for obvious reasons) But here it is. I finally got the two together at an undisclosed location. They were cool but I could sense the tension coming. They did not disappoint.

GARY: Hey, Love and Sex. So good to see you together again.

LOVE: Thank you.

SEX: Good to be here.

GARY: So I don’t think a lot of people know that you two used to be married.

LOVE: I wouldn’t call it that. We were joined together in spirit.

SEX: It was a marriage without the consequence.

GARY: That’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it?

LOVE: Yes. You couldn’t have sex without love or love without sex. It was mandated.

SEX: I agree with that. Society justified one with the other so most people were looking for love fortified by sex or sex that led to love.

GARY: So what the hell happened? Who screwed this up?

LOVE: Sex did. It got too big for its britches.

SEX: I’d expect you to say that. The way I see it, Love got old—and fat.

GARY: Hold up, no need to be nasty.

SEX: Sorry, I take that back. Love ain’t fat—it’s thick.

LOVE: Like I was saying, sex became more important to some people and they thought doing it without love or wanting it to lead to love was cool and fun.

SEX: It is and you know it. Sex feels good, it mellows people and gives them purpose and enlightenment.

LOVE: See what I’m saying? Sex acts like it’s a religion instead of a biological act. You’re just an uppity sneeze.

SEX: Now who’s being mean?

GARY: When did the separation begin?

LOVE: Prince.

SEX: Not that again.

GARY: Explain please.

LOVE: Well, people used to sing about me. All the songs were about Love. Even if they were about sex, they still had me in mind. Love is a higher calling, you know. Then Prince came along. He sang about Love and Sex but all anyone paid attention to were the sex songs. He muddled the issue and then everyone started singing and rapping about Sex for the sake of Sex. He even had an album called LoveSexy. Bastard.

SEX: Love is a real hater.

GARY: Why do you say that?

SEX: I started getting all the attention, especially from the rappers. Society shifted its values and concerns and I came out on top. Look, people still like Love but no one sits around thinking about it. Love made itself too elusive. “I’m Love; I’m a mystery!” Love “mystery-ed” its ass right out of relevance. Not my fault, baby.

GARY: So you too parted company?

LOVE: Sex left me. I am the original. There was Love well before Adam looked down and said “Lord, what’s this thing for?’ God created man out of Love.

SEX: Oh, here we go.

LOVE: Read your Bible, Mr. Crotch. It says "For God so LOVED the world,” not “For God so sex-ed it.”

SEX: That kind of propaganda let Love rule for a long time but we are now in the age of Sex. I’m everywhere. Women are stuffing their bodies with fake boobs and butts. Men are taking drugs to get it on. Men are doing it with other men, women and anything that moves. People are at it twenty-four seven and they don’t care if they are married, single, cripple or crazy. Everybody has to get theirs! Back that ass up! Thank you Republicans, by the way.

LOVE: Jesus, when will this fifteen minutes be over?

SEX: Never. I am here to stay and you are just a has-been emotion.

GARY: You’re wrong about that.

SEX: Say what?

GARY: Love is not one emotion, it’s every emotion: hope, fear, desire, affection all of them and the quantity is unique to the union. Love is an ideal, a perfection that while unreachable takes you on a journey of self-discovery. In the effort to get and keep Love, we all become better people.

SEX: That’s all good, but Love don’t curl your toes up, brother! (Laughs)

LOVE: You may as well give up. Sex is not very smart these days.

GARY: Well, were out of time. But I think I speak for everyone when I say I hope to see you two back together. Things were better when you had to have both, you know.

LOVE: I never say never.

SEX: Neither do I.

GARY: Take care and try to love each other.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

FINDING BARRACK

A Facebook friend posted a note that said she was “looking for her Barack.” I thought it was a nice thing to say, a way of using the First Couple as metaphor for a man of quality. After that, another friend said something similar, that she was inspired to look harder for a suitable mate and not to accept the widely held belief that the pickings were slim and none.

This stuck in my mind. It’s a good thing to finally have a role model who is not a celebrity. We all know that celebrities are not the best role models. Just read the news.

Black women for the most part have always been looking for Barack. They have always wanted a man who is smart, decent, strong and willing to be father and husband without fear. The problem is not women looking for Barrack

The problem is black men are not looking for Michelle.

Many men praise her now but most guys I know would have passed right by Michelle LaVaughn Robinson at a party. For them, she would have been too tall, too educated, too decent, too serious, too powerful and for a few too dark,. Fellas, if this applies, all I can say is you need to get some help, seriously.

So ladies, I encourage you in your search if you feel the First Couple is inspiring then be inspired to reach out. And if you’ve read the story on these two, remember this: "Barack" did not make "Michelle;" she made him.

MY LETTER FROM GOD

Dear Gary:

You’re going to hell.

Just kidding!

There are some things I want to say to the world and well, for reasons that only I know, I don’t want to say them directly. So every once in a while, I pick a mortal such as yourself and tell him. Then I watch as he tries to get people to believe him. I get a kick out of this. That Moses and the tablets thing still makes me LMAO!

What’s up with the wars in my name? I don’t condone war. What you probably don’t know is that I’m not against them, either. I don’t do petty organic damage. All that killing and stuff, that’s on you guys. Tell people God ain’t with it and they can stop anytime they like.

Also, Harry Potter. Didn’t like it. None of them. Actually, I don’t like any book. I always know the ending. You see, that’s why I love people. I don’t know where thIs whole Free Will thing is going. It’s exciting, like when Mary Jane dies at the end of Spiderman 4— Oops.

I like reality shows. I don’t watch them, but I think it’s hilarious that people with real lives don’t appreciate how interesting they can be and so they watch the fake real lives of other people. Please tell everyone that the real sin is not enjoying the life I gave them.

Speaking of life. Let's talk about sex. I think it's one of My better inventions and it sure is in demand (Kudos to China). And thank everyone for thinking of Me so much while they do it. Calling out my name loudly is nice. I'm not fond of the cursing right after, though.

And as far as religion is concerned, I just want to remind everyone that you shouldn’t put too much stock in it. Religion is just a process by which you try to understand Me. It is not Me. And it sure isn’t silk robes, smoking purses and stoning women because they showed an elbow in public. Ultimately, religion is just a lot of writing in books and well, you already know how I feel about that.

And finally, the meaning of life: Gilligan’s Island. Everything you need to know is on that show. Although I can’t tell you why the Skipper never lost any weight. Don’t be stupid, don’t be greedy, don’t be seduced, don’t be too innocent, don’t have too much pride and don’t try to turn a radio into a transmitter and you can get off the island.

Well, that’s it and you really are going to hell.

Gotcha again!

Sincerely,

Me Almighty

MY EMAIL FROM SATAN

To: "Hardwick, Gary"
From: "Satan, Prince Of Darkness"
Re: Whasuuuuup!

Dear Gary,

God tells me you’re coming here. Is He joking? I can never tell.

Anyway, just wanted to drop you a line since He did. I know I’m imitating, but as you may have heard, I have Father Issues. Since you posted his letter on Facebook, I just wanted you to tell the people some things about me as well:

I am not some scary monster with hooves and horns and a tail-- okay I do kinda have a tail but there are people with uni-brows and third nipples. And that “Octo Mom? How gross is she?!

Hell is not some fiery pit with writhing bodies, sulfur and demons. We are just in a place where His grace does not reach. It’s kinda like Baltimore or Hollywood with a few more agents. Anyway, it’s fun down here! Our annual "Hellapalooza" is great. We have the Original Sin Olympics, The 10 Commandments Break-A-Thon and a beauty contest where we crown a new Miss Behaving. Then we go to Hitler’s nightclub, which is off the chiz-zain! Did I say that right? I love black slang. Hell, I love black people—taste like chicken. Just kiddin’!

Also, I am not The Great Deceiver, The Father of Lies and all that. I don’t do much of anything. Like God I stay out of it and let you guys do what you want. But I could be lying. If I was a liar then I’d say I wasn’t, to fool you, then again, I’d be telling the truth about lying proving that I wasn’t a liar, but that might be a deception as well....

... Where was I?

Oh yeah, sin. Look all I can really say is, I think things are going my way. Just look at the world. Everybody chooses different names for the same God and then kills you if you disagree! I love it and this suicide bombing business is like butter.

I do have one big beef, though. I’m the guy who made sex fun. Sure God created it but I made it wrong thus intensifying the pleasure. And what thanks do I get? You guys yell out His name. That’s like eating a Big Mac and yelling out “Wendy’s!” So just try it next time. Yell my name when you do it. And hey, I don’t mind the cursing afterwards.

Also, please don’t refer to me as The Devil. The name is Satan. It was an angel name until I got that bad press. Man, you try to kill God one time and suddenly you’re treated like Kim Kardashian at a “smart virgin” meeting. People should know that I am still an angel; I just have a little baggage. I want to make Satan a beautiful name again like Thistle or Dakota Fanning.

And the meaning of life. I know He told you that nonsense about Gilligan’s Island. But come on, we all know that life is the execution of your commitment to God by the use of Free Will, thus freeing your God-like immortal soul to be Reborn into His Eternity.

Or it’s The Brady Bunch. I can’t be sure.

Well, that’s it. I have to go. People are starting to wake up about this whole war business and I have to make sure that no one realizes we all have the same purpose. Man, you have no idea how hard it’s been keeping everyone mad at each other.

Take care and-- see you soon?

Sincerely,

Gilligan, I mean Satan (LOL)

THE DEATH OF SOUL


I used to know what Soul was. It was a spirit, a movement that arose from the history of this nation. Black people were, excuse the imagery, the shadow of America, its conscious and living soul.

Our suffering, our struggle and our victory over oppression gave us an almost spiritual power to understand the heart of man. As the Jews were defined by slavery and exodus and Jesus was defined by his temptation and passion, so were black people by their enslavement and triumph in America.

So, whenever America got too big for its britches, black people were always there to remind everyone of the truth. In our faces was the sin of the past and the debt owed on the contract of humanity. When America became the only nuclear power in the world, the country was brought to its knees by the Civil Rights Movement-- powered by Motown.

Then there was an explosion of black culture. When people wanted to know what was cool, they looked to us. When truth was needed, we were there to tell it. Ali thrilled, Pryor cracked you up and Stevie raised your consciousness. The best of us, the strength, the artistry and most of all, the nobility became quintessentially American.

We had Soul and we were superbad.

Forty years later, we’d lost it.

The lowest level of achievement and behavior now represents the essence of culture. Education levels have fallen, male/female relationships have soured and the black family has been broken into desolate fragments of its former vitality. Artists now sing and rap about sex, getting high and wealth obtained by any means necessary.

Is this the death of Soul?

And if it is, what was the cause? Lets see, persistent and invidious racism, an unaddressed intra-cultural conflict based on color and class, self-hatred, misogyny, homophobia, unattended psychological damage and old-fashioned capitalist materialism. I could go on but really all I would be doing is telling you what I think is wrong and that will prove nothing.

But I do know this: America has changed and not for the better. And the minorities in any country always get the worst of it. But what came first? Did America change us or did we change America? Chicken or the egg? Bush or imperialist stupidity? Now, this is the place where I always have to ask myself: Am I just old? Perhaps I just can’t see the depth in Flo-rida or accept a crumbling family structure as fate, maybe Love and Hip Hop is brilliant and those bikini models on Fox News are goddamned geniuses.

Alas, I am not an old man nor have I lost touch. I’m afraid we fought and struggled and we got the monkey off our backs but maybe we didn’t know how to live without a monkey and so we created new burdens, defined ourselves by them and slipped into the arms of self-destruction.

And before you throw Obama at this issue I will say that I think the First Family has plenty of soul but their mere presence was not enough to save us or lead us back to a path of recovery. We eight years of them as a symbol of something that we may never have again.

So black people killed Soul. Maybe the thing that defines us is no longer connected to culture; perhaps we have fully assimilated and are now just a part of the current decline of America. Or maybe the steroids in Popeye’s Chicken did us all in.

In the end, Soul was too demanding. It set the bar too high because ultimately, the legacies of Washington, DuBois, Malcolm X and Dr. King, asked us to accept the atrocities committed against us as just obstacles and not impenetrable barriers to ascension.

Those great men would have wanted us to go on without guilty ex-masters, without fear, powered only by a love of self, strength of mind and faith in God. But we didn’t and now “L’il Yacty is blasting on your son’s iPhone and he wants to be on a reality show.

So where does that leave us? I like to think that my perception of looming destruction is my lack of understanding a changing society and my fear of the unknown. I sure hope so, because the biggest price may well be paid by our country, which cannot exist without its living Soul.

copyright 2009

REVENGE OF THE HO

The Hos Are Winning. 

After the turbulent feminist revolution, American women claimed a stellar victory for the Real Woman. Suddenly, women were smart and powerful. They were still sexy but with it was not gratuitous and degrading (and if it was, it was on her own terms). She became CEO’s, Senators, Vice-Presidential candidates, commanded the Starship Voyager on TV and in real life flew the Space Shuttle.

And men elevated too, rising to meet the Real Woman with Real Maleness. Society flourished and the newly freed females allowed us all to seek the best in ourselves and our world.

Then something went wrong.

Someone conspired to topple the newly independent woman. An unholy cabal set out to create a new role model. The conspiracy took hold and slowly breast size went up, IQ’s went down, men started going shirtless for no reason and Paris Hilton got a TV show.

The Ho claimed their revenge.

Now when I say Ho I refer of course to a person is generally devoid of principle and talent and lives their lives a in a quest to elevate form over substance . So yes, I am talking about us men, too. In fact, we are the biggest hos of all, especially in Washington and on Wall Street.

The new millennium Ho is everywhere. You cannot read anything, watch anything or buy anything without seeing their half naked bodies, grinning faces and empty eyes. He’s pulling down his pants in clothing ads, jiggling her boobs in films and they are even on national news programs, masquerading as reporters with clean shaves faces and gi-normous breasts. But they’re not fooling me. I know they’re hos, devoid of reason and intellect and just a thong away from the Ass Channel.

But the best evidence is the phenomenon of the Celebrity Ho. These people attain notoriety just because they had sex, are pretty or related to someone who was rich or famous. You might find them on the internet in a porno, a reality show-- or the Republican national ticket.

And if you like reality shows, then you are witness to the biggest ho-a-thon in history. This is where hos go to compete to see who’s the biggest void of talent or who gets to be a host on “The View.” And I don’t watch The Bachelor” but I’m betting they could change the name of that show to “The Ho and The Hos Who Want To Marry Him.” Talk about The Biggest Loser.


We must reclaim our nobility, people. We have to stop encouraging this reversion. Just because you choose to make a living with your brain doesn’t mean you’re worthless. And just because you’re born pretty doesn’t mean you’re interesting and should be on Fox News. We are locked in a blood-feud with the Ho and we are losing; losing our nobility to people with tattoos on their asses and the final frontier in their heads.

So, it’s time for drastic action. We must point them out for all to see and yell out: J’accuse ho!
People of substance on CNN.

Hos back on the pole.

THE CRAYOLA CURE FOR RACE

Race Relations Have Always Been A Big Problem For Human Beings And The Solution Has Been Right Under Our Noses For Years.

Recently, everyone has been talking about a “post racial America.” Funny how every time black folks make any gains, people talk about how race shouldn’t matter. Anyway, a  post racial America is easier said than done but I believe the answer is not in some profound place but in a very simple one:

Harry Potter.

I thought about how the books are sent all over the world to fresh young minds to absorb and how many of those minds are influenced by it. There is one word in those books that recurs often:

Dark.

In Potter, we are told of dark wizards, dark magic, dark, marks, dark lord, dark arts and the like. It occurred to me that darkness has always been associated with the negative; or with something generally bad. Black Monday, black cats, and my all time favorite, the Black Death, because regular death is for punks. And remember when you first saw Darth Vader, evil and menacing in that black mask and uniform? I didn’t know shit about this brother, but I knew he was up to no good.

Now we all know that there are light things that are bad and scary, like lightening, ghosts and Wall Street Bankers. And dark things that are wonderful like chocolate, mahogany and Iman.

Image and imagery are two different things. The image of something is the thing itself, what the conscious mind processes as information. The imagery of it is the visual symbolism of what it has come to mean to you consciously and subconsciously. For example, if I see a black cat, my conscious mind sees a cat that is dark in color but my subconscious sees evil, fear and mysteriousness. It remembers that black cats are bad luck, witches pets and the harbingers of death.

Think about what it does to a mind to be constantly bombarded with the image of dark as bad and light as good. Would that mind grow to fear the dark? Would it grow to worship the light? Would a dark person feel ashamed of his color? Would a light person be arrogant with self-appreciation? Now think of the reaction of one human being to another wrapped in the imagery of those contrasts.

Yeah, big trouble.

So what to do? Well, the solution is in the basic Crayola Eight Pack. (I could never afford that 64 Pack with the sharpener on the back. If you had one, I still hate you) We just need to switch the imagery of color! Not a reversal of light and dark because that would only lead to Light Wizards and White Vaders. No, we need to obliterate this dependency on the two extremes. The limitation of two iconic choices is unnatural and has brought us down, just look at Congress.

For example, the Crayola Cure could make pink the color for anything bad in business. “Stocks plummeted on Pink Monday,” or “The recession has cast a pink cloud on the world markets.” Of course, that singer named Pink would have to change her name, but I don’t like her shit anyway.

Orange could be a positive color for all things personal. “The Orange Knight rescued the fair maiden,” or “Luke Skywalker fought with the power of the orangeness of his hero’s heart.”

Green could be a bad color. “The green malevolence radiated from the thing,” or “He contemplated their death with the greenest of intentions.”

Taken to its logical conclusion, changing the image of all colors could solve the race problem by tackling it at its subconscious roots. And that would change things for us all.

Check it out:

Darth Vader swept into the room, his green mask a visage of evil and this long green cape flapping behind him like the wings of a great bird.

Harry Potter took a step back at the sight of him, but he still shimmered with the orange light of his courage.

Vader raised his putrid pink gloved hands to strike and just as quickly Harry whipped out his wand and issued forth a brilliant purple light that struck the green clad Vader like cerulean death, plunging him into the depths of ominous yellow oblivion!


See? Thrilling, descriptive and it doesn’t paint any person or race as inferior.

So, I say we can do it! Let us all embrace the Crayola Cure and begin to change things now.

That’s it and everyone have an orange day.

©Copyright 2010

BRING BACK THE UGLY SINGERS


There was a time when actual vocal talent, a physiological gift separated a good singer from the rest of us who can only croak in the shower and dream. The singers were awesome; their voices were like instruments that defied human capacities. We used to admire our singers for their singular gift and we enjoyed the music out of sheer respect.

So, it occurred to me that many of the old “real” singers were not the most attractive people who’d ever meet. But most people are not attractive. It is the nature of beauty that it is rare and so it only made sense that most of the singers were not pretty. Thank God they were on the radio and you couldn’t see their asses. They lived in our minds and in our hearts where music does its best work.

Still, I watched as girls screamed with delight over ugly men and men grunted sexy approval of women who, without the gift, were just plain homely. I know now that they were more beautiful to us because of their talent. That whole “eye of the beholder” thing was never truer. Then something awful happened.

Music videos.

Michael made a music video called Billy Jean. All of a sudden, how you looked was just as important as how you sounded. The music business now wanted all singers to be as appealing as possible and so the ugly singers started to disappear, replaced by beautiful people who did not have the gift. Technology helped these untalented beauties to sound like their ugly counterparts. Over time, image replaced talent in popular music.

We rebelled. We stopped paying for mediocre CD’s with one polished hit and twelve other tracks of musical defecation. We started borrowing, copying and downloading only the music that didn’t make our ears bleed. The music industry’s profits plummeted.

Hip Hop hasn’t been affected by this phenomenon yet. The rappers are some of the most hideous people on the planet and that’s why their music dominates the landscape.

I never wanted to get old and be one of those guys who complained about how things used to be better when he was young but-- things used to be better, goddammit! And I can prove it. Just watch the singing contest shows, where they have embraced mediocrity and beauty and have a contest to see who can “not sing” the best. Or go to a concert of one of these pretty singers or watch a non-enhanced TV performance and you will hear my proof. THEY CAN’T SING! They are off key, out of sync and just plain awful.

So. bring back the ugly singers.

Bring them back with their, crooked noses, non-perfect features and heavenly voices. We’re sorry! We didn’t mean to push you aside. We were blinded by the perfect smiles, satin skin and silicone implants. Come back to us and we will exalt you again, even if we do have to close our eyes when we listen.

THE FUCK YOU GENERATION

Notice how rude and impolite people are now? Just go to any service business and ask for help. The person working has an attitude as though they are pissed at you for supporting a business that gave them the job they hate.

Meanwhile, banks lie and steal money. Athletes use steroids; authors plagiarize and oh yeah, we were lied into a war that destabilized the entire world.

Everyone has a “get yours at all costs” mentality. I mean people were always competitive but now it seems that we will stop at nothing. And if you feel particularly trapped by your inability to have it all, you kill your wife and unborn baby and blame it on a black man.

There has been a major shift in American society. If the Baby Boomers and Gen-Xers are the “Me Generation.” Then we are living in the age of the Fuck You Generation. Go to school and learn? Fuck you. I want to be famous. Work hard and save money? Fuck you, I want it all now. Be courteous to people? Fuck you—well, just fuck you.

So what’s the cause of all of this, you say? Well, according to scholars, America is in its decline. But we believe that our reign will never end. All the while, our style of life is going out of style, other nations are out-producing us. And at home, we have turned away from scholarship, love, nobility, modesty courteousness and imagination.

Still not a believer? Well, let’s look at the indicators of any great society: its social and artistic icons. We’ve gone from: Muhammad Ali to Mike Tyson, All in The Family to The Simpsons, Walter Cronkite to Katie Couric, Janis Joplin to Britney Spears, Hank Aaron to Barry Bonds, 60 Minutes to American Idol, Stevie Wonder to R. Kelly and Ossie and Ruby to Chris and Rhianna.

I could go on but my head is hurting. And if you read that list and thought “Hey, I love American Idol.” You’re part of the problem.

So have we lost it or am I just old set in my ways and unable to see the brilliance of The Jonas Brothers? I think maybe there’s a pattern here. We are sliding and for the life of me I don’t know what to do about it.

By the way if you disagree with me, well, I think you know my response to that.