...hmmmm...so like, I'm on the bus, right? I'm chillin', listening to my iPod and just observing my surroundings (and yes, when someone has on a big ass pair of sunglasses, they're probably staring at you), when this chick and her girlfriend get on the bus. I honestly didn't notice...mainly because there are far too many things going on in this world to worry about than someone's sexual orientation/preference. Living in Seattle, (the Gay/Lesbian capital of the US next to San Francisco), you'd almost think that one would be used to seeing same sex couples, right? Wrong!
So this loud, belligerent jerk walks directly up to the one girl (that was dressed and presented herself as a boy) and says right out, "Are you gay?" The girl looked, but didn't respond so he asked again, "Excuse me, are you gay?!!" and this time, he was a little more aggressive. The girl turned around and said, "Please leave me alone". There wasn't even a hint of a tone in her voice and I kind of admired her patience while staring in the face of a total and complete, ignorant asshole. So then the dude says, "Yeah, you're a faggot...", (all regard for his opinion kinda went out the window with that statement) and proceeded to go on a rant about rainbows or some shit. He then said he knew she was gay because she wore her flip-flops with socks.
My mouth dropped open like, really?? Is that really how you approach people? Especially when you're asking them a personal question that in no way affects you?Now, I'm ALL for the gays!! "yay, go gay!!" I feel like this: if it isn't affecting you, your life or your money, why would it bother you if people want to be with the same sex? I choose to sleep with men. I find most of them to be sexy, but I also like cheese on my hot links. Does that make me weird? No; it's a preference. You know what burned me up? The fact that they decided NOT to have the death penalty as an option for child molesters. THAT'S a topic for discussion; not gay/lesbian people co-habitating.
So anyway, the girlfriend (the more girly one) was kinda spicy 'cause she came right out and said, "Sir, could you leave my MAN alone?" and everyone on the bus laughed. I'm still trying to figure out what was so damn funny about that. I thought her pride was definitely something to be jealous of; like as if she'd defend her with her life. The same way a mother would react if someone were to try to discipline her child: "excuse me, that's MY baby!" Make sense? So anyway, the asshole was with some broad that decided to jump in and defend him and she turned around and called them dykes!!
She then went on a rant about gays and lesbians and how they make her sick and how they're going to hell for living the way that that do. (Here's my thing; if that's the case, we're all going to hell for SOMETHING. No one is perfect and we all have done something that we aren't so proud of. I had/have pre-marital sex, I really don't plan on getting married, I had a child out of wedlock, I cuss like a sailor and I have no plans on changing. I know people who are 10 times worse and guilty of countless unspeakable acts so I'll see most of yall in hell and if you get there before me, save me a spot. Thanks! ) Then the girlfriend stood up and was like, "Bitch!!" Now, I don't know what came after that 'cause we all know it's over after you hear that first, emphatic, 'bitch'.
What I do know is the chick said something to the effect of, "you wouldn't say that if we were in an alley" and the girlfriend clearly didn't take too well to idle threats because she walked up and gave the chick the business. And when I say she gave her the business, I mean, SHE GAVE HER A TWO-PIECE in mid-sentence. She thoroughly beat this chick's ass. Then the chick said something about calling the cops because she was "assaulted by two dykes".After all was said and done, I walked up to her and gave her a high-five. She deserved it.
She went on to say that she was from NY and "don't play that West Coast shit talking game". It made me think of what my mom used to say as this experience shed some light on what never made sense to me: "oh yeah, people can talk a good fight...that's when you SHOW them a good fight and pop 'em while they're talking." No one can talk that much shit and actually have the skill and balls to back it up. Not everyone can be Floyd.
Normally I'd end such a blog with one of my own truths, but I think Leonardo daVinci kinda nailed it for me: "One has no right to love or hate anything if one has not acquired a thorough knowledge of it's nature."
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Year of the Hater
Okay, so what exactly does popular culture consider a "hater"? I always thought a hater was someone who wanted something (easily attainable) and rather than motivating themselves to get their own, they hate the next person for already having it. Seems about right? I also know that it makes a lot more sense to ignore a hater and not acknowledge their existence (think: silent check-mate) rather than dedicating so much of your time and energy to their motives.
However, this year has been full of songs and popular phrases dedicated to haters, thus making 2008, The Year of the Hater. Haters, you guys should give yourselves a round of applause, pat yourself on the back and kiss a baby if you feel it's necessary because you own the spotlight right now.
Now the self-proclaimed "hated" may need to step back and take a look at your life and see exactly what it is that makes you SOOOO great that any and everyone and their mailman just hates you so much. Know what I think it is? Lean in...closer...closer... *whispers* I think it's all in your head. I can't say it enough, but anyone who's worthy of being hated isn't walking around talking about how much they can't stand haters...they're too busy living their lives, making their money and taking care of their families. They don't have time to sit down and make dedications to a hater.
If you just got a new car/truck (in an attempt to keep up with the now bankrupt Joneses) and you're barely making the note, trust me, I don't want your life. If you got famous because your legs pop open everytime someone steps on your foot (and you AREN'T getting paid for it), trust me, I don't want your life. If you have children and aren't taking care of them, trust me, I don't want your life. If your cell phone is getting cut off every other month, but you can somehow afford a new outfit every week, trust me, I don't want your life. If you don't have a job or a place of your own, TRUST ME, I don't want YOUR life.
Step out of that fantasy called Haterville. If you had anything worth bragging about, the last thing you'd be worried about is who doesn't have it and why. You're so busy watching them watch you that you can't take care of business, focus on your career and/or get an (adequate) education. I'm actually shocked when I hear that someone doesn't like me...well, I have ADD, but still.The point is, if you had something self motivating to focus on, you most certainly wouldn't be worried about a damn hater. That is, unless scoping out haters IS your motivation and if that's the case, get your life together, loser. And please stop it with the "I love my haters" movement. You sound like a total and complete idiot. Love your family, love your job, but most importantly, love YOURSELF. Who really has time to love a hater?
However, this year has been full of songs and popular phrases dedicated to haters, thus making 2008, The Year of the Hater. Haters, you guys should give yourselves a round of applause, pat yourself on the back and kiss a baby if you feel it's necessary because you own the spotlight right now.
Now the self-proclaimed "hated" may need to step back and take a look at your life and see exactly what it is that makes you SOOOO great that any and everyone and their mailman just hates you so much. Know what I think it is? Lean in...closer...closer... *whispers* I think it's all in your head. I can't say it enough, but anyone who's worthy of being hated isn't walking around talking about how much they can't stand haters...they're too busy living their lives, making their money and taking care of their families. They don't have time to sit down and make dedications to a hater.
If you just got a new car/truck (in an attempt to keep up with the now bankrupt Joneses) and you're barely making the note, trust me, I don't want your life. If you got famous because your legs pop open everytime someone steps on your foot (and you AREN'T getting paid for it), trust me, I don't want your life. If you have children and aren't taking care of them, trust me, I don't want your life. If your cell phone is getting cut off every other month, but you can somehow afford a new outfit every week, trust me, I don't want your life. If you don't have a job or a place of your own, TRUST ME, I don't want YOUR life.
Step out of that fantasy called Haterville. If you had anything worth bragging about, the last thing you'd be worried about is who doesn't have it and why. You're so busy watching them watch you that you can't take care of business, focus on your career and/or get an (adequate) education. I'm actually shocked when I hear that someone doesn't like me...well, I have ADD, but still.The point is, if you had something self motivating to focus on, you most certainly wouldn't be worried about a damn hater. That is, unless scoping out haters IS your motivation and if that's the case, get your life together, loser. And please stop it with the "I love my haters" movement. You sound like a total and complete idiot. Love your family, love your job, but most importantly, love YOURSELF. Who really has time to love a hater?
I Too, Dream Africa
So, I got into a rather heated debate last week with a (now old) friend. I don't remember exactly how we got on the topic, but he said something to the effect of, "I don't speak German, I speak Black...lol." First things first, putting an "LOL" in front of something ignorant doesn't make it any less ignorant, nor does it make it humorous. Off the topic, but I had to say it. From there we got on the topic of race, culture and what it means to be "Black". By the end of the conversation, it became clear to me that you can never really know a person too well.
Now, I judge no one based on what they consider themselves to be, but I will not lie, I'll judge based on the reason behind it. Anyway, here's where it got interesting: he basically said that he considered himself Black and had no relation to Africa as he could not "trace back his roots." I then asked him how he could consider his color a race. I'll admit, I use both terms "Black" and "African American" interchangeably, but if asked, I'll tell you that I'm African American; a product of the African diaspora. Sadly, like most, I don't have a country to refer to, but I do have this beautiful brown skin and an inherent love for all things rhythmic.
He then went on a rant about how I was being "unpatriotic" and how he served and fought for this country and that I'm unappreciative for what our military does for America everyday. I think I pissed him off even more when I said that I could only imagine how much love and dedication he would have to this country had he NOT served in the Marines. Chris Rock said it best: "America (to African Americans) is like the uncle that paid your way through college, but molested you." He then said, "its people of your mentality that makes it difficult for black Americans to achieve the greatness we're destined."
I first decided that this is someone that could no longer be a part of my social circle. Then, I told him that at the end of the day, if it was between him and one of his comrades (of the other persuasion), he'd get lynched first and with absolutely no consideration for his service and dedication to this country. It's one thing to call one's self Black loosely, but once you start trying to defend and define what it means to be Black, I have a problem. Black is a color; not a race, culture or place. I cannot travel to "Black" and learn about my Blackness. Being "Black" is an identity based on skin color. You may as well call yourself Colored.
At the end of the day, we're all living, breathing products of Africa. Not chains, shackles or being sold as property, but a constant reminder of the beauty that is Africa; a reminder that, we too, come from greatness. I too, dream Africa.P.S. - you may not wanna take any advice from me...or read this blog. Afterall, I am the reason Black Americans can't get ahead in life...(could someone please make me a smiley face that's flipping the bird? Or maybe just a middle finger? That would so come in handy right now)
Now, I judge no one based on what they consider themselves to be, but I will not lie, I'll judge based on the reason behind it. Anyway, here's where it got interesting: he basically said that he considered himself Black and had no relation to Africa as he could not "trace back his roots." I then asked him how he could consider his color a race. I'll admit, I use both terms "Black" and "African American" interchangeably, but if asked, I'll tell you that I'm African American; a product of the African diaspora. Sadly, like most, I don't have a country to refer to, but I do have this beautiful brown skin and an inherent love for all things rhythmic.
He then went on a rant about how I was being "unpatriotic" and how he served and fought for this country and that I'm unappreciative for what our military does for America everyday. I think I pissed him off even more when I said that I could only imagine how much love and dedication he would have to this country had he NOT served in the Marines. Chris Rock said it best: "America (to African Americans) is like the uncle that paid your way through college, but molested you." He then said, "its people of your mentality that makes it difficult for black Americans to achieve the greatness we're destined."
I first decided that this is someone that could no longer be a part of my social circle. Then, I told him that at the end of the day, if it was between him and one of his comrades (of the other persuasion), he'd get lynched first and with absolutely no consideration for his service and dedication to this country. It's one thing to call one's self Black loosely, but once you start trying to defend and define what it means to be Black, I have a problem. Black is a color; not a race, culture or place. I cannot travel to "Black" and learn about my Blackness. Being "Black" is an identity based on skin color. You may as well call yourself Colored.
At the end of the day, we're all living, breathing products of Africa. Not chains, shackles or being sold as property, but a constant reminder of the beauty that is Africa; a reminder that, we too, come from greatness. I too, dream Africa.P.S. - you may not wanna take any advice from me...or read this blog. Afterall, I am the reason Black Americans can't get ahead in life...(could someone please make me a smiley face that's flipping the bird? Or maybe just a middle finger? That would so come in handy right now)
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