Micros in the Macro

Microagressions and macroagressions against Black people in this country are both symptoms of the same disease: racism.

Police brutality, unequal wages, the lack of justice for the murders of Black people at the hands of law enforcement, educational funding that is determined by property taxes, mass incarceration of Black people and unequal sentencing, housing disparities… those are the forms of racism we are used to hearing about. These government and legislative oriented issues that we know are major impediments to Black success, but things many of us see as factors we have little influence upon. These are macroaggressions… large scale injustices towards a group of maginalized people to further restrict their progress. These are the things we protest against and write books about.

But it’s those smaller, more prevalent, daily and incessant indignities that communicate hostile, discriminatory, and prejudicial slights against us that really eat away at our peace, emotional stability, faith, self-worth, and truths. Microaggressions are those things that happen across our intersections… sex, race, sexual orientation, religion, class, educational level… to weaken us in our social spaces. They are often harder to identify and certainly harder to prove. But they are nonetheless the most fucking exhausting form of racism.

We are in the midst of some sort of paradigm shift. Our kids care not about Black, White, gay, straight, rich, or poor. Hip hop concerts are filled to the brim with White kids who know every word of Kendrick’s “D.A.M.N.”. Black boys blasting Jack Harlow, a white boy rapper who looks like an extra from Dawson’s Creek. Black girls rocking creepers and Hispanic girls rocking baggy jeans and crop tops in reverence to Aaliyah. They march together for Black Lives Matter. The protests boasting as many White faces as Black ones. A majority of people in America recognize and speak out and about white privilege and it’s affects in the lives on non-White Americans. Yet, the shift hasn’t quite happened yet. And the shift is in the macro.

Ask any Black woman about microaggressions. It’s in the comments, the slights, the looks, the 911 calls trying to report Black people for being, impeding people of color in social spaces, and the social media comments that don’t exactly promote racism but somehow justify behaviors that slap the hands of Black people for touching the glass objects, their fragile ass egos. It’s at work when the White supervisor accuses you of something with no proof, at the store when she clutches her purse, at the restaurant when she asks to speak to your manager because you gave her three and not four ice cubes. It’s a use of power, white privilege, to demote you to a place lower than where you started. It’s racism. It’s bullshit.

The same way we do blackouts, shout and share on social media, protest and engage, and mass call and demand for arrests for the murderers of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor… we have to expose this shit in the same way. Don’t just videotape and share Black deaths. Videotape and share White ignorance… show and tell that fool calling the police on a man minding his business at the park or at his house. Then let’s go en masse to the police station with their names and addresses to demand their arrests for filing fake police reports. Let’s call out folks at work and file mass EEOC and Title VII complaints. If she stands behind your car to impede your movement, call the police, lay on your horn, videotape her and post it everywhere. Yell out loud… I’m being harassed and stalked!!!!

In 1988 Donald Trump put an ad in the New York Times demanding that New York bring back the death penalty, particularly in the case against the Central Park Five, Black males all of whom have been exonerated of their wrongful convictions of the rape of a White woman in the park. The racists use their money and access to continuously attempt to dismantle our communities, success, families, and businesses. We have to employ the methods available to us to fight hatred and fear. We also have to expose all forms of racism.. but especially those that eat away at our individual and collective psyche.

Microaggressions are used to weaken us so we submit to macroaggressions… too exhausted to fight or fight back. Imagine how many time Trayvon Martin and Mike Brown had heard themselves, their friends, or other young brothas called thugs, uneducated, stupid, violent, or worthless. How many times had Sandra Bland and Korryn Gaines heard they were bitter, angry, less refined than their white counterparts, needed to straighten their hair, lose their hips, or calm down their attitude. How many times have you been told you are LUCKY to have your job, you can easily be replaced, you are too sensitive or angry, everything isn’t about race, you have the chance, opportunity, ability to come so much farther than your ancestors… as if it’s a gift, as if our ancestors were ALL born into slavery, as if we voted George Washington and his 123 slaves having ass into office.


These microaggressions are not just being mean, being an asshole, ignorance, fear, because leadership positions are hard, because you reacted wrong, or because it’s your job to educate or change the minds of the ignorant.

It’s RACISM! These actions are a systematic part of the same systems that are written into our governments and made legal by our lack of legislation.


Call a thing a thing.

Call it what it is OUT LOUD!

Signed, a Negro with Attitude

black v. Black

This will be my one and only time talking about this self-hating, sold her soul to the white supremacy for a dollar ass clown Candace Owens. In light of the change that is happening in America in 2020 after the murder of George Floyd, and her toxic commentary, it’s important to know how TRASH this person really is . She is black. She ain’t Black. She might be somebody’s sister, but she ain’t a sista.

She’s black like mourning, sadness, darkness. She’s the “black sheep”. Each of her days is a “black day”. Like the American idioms that paint the color black as negative , she is sleeping with the enemy, a bedfellow of the white supremacist. She is living blackmail, extorting all that is good and ancestral about Black Americans from us for her progress. She is illicit and fraudulent like the “black market”; rejecting our creativity and the richness of our culture, literally blackballing; and a “black mark” on our political and social history in the US. She is black on black crime personified. She’s black.

She is not Black. Her darkness does not absorb the light, it repels it in favor of lies, deceit, and utter foolishness. She dismisses Black culture by dismissing the importance of our lives. All life does not matter unless and until Black Lives Matter. Full and complete stop. She supports and endorses a man who quotes George Wallace, makes threats on the lives of people protesting per their Constitutional rights, and is having his first rally in the home of the worse Black massacre in America, Tulsa, on Juneteenth, the day Black people celebrate our actual liberation from American slavery. She probably thinks Chic-fil-A tenders are the best fried chicken she’s ever had. I bet she can’t name two Ice Cube albums, doesn’t eat fish on Friday’s, and doesn’t know that she’s supposed to to the Electric Slide when “My Eyes Don’t Cry” comes on at her cousin’s wedding.

Mostly she is a capitalist looking for a come up. Like many Black far right conservatives, she saw a lane there that few Black people were inhabiting. So she took advantage. In 2015 ole girl was running a company whose website boasted an anti-conservative blog. She once critiqued the “bat-shit-crazy antics of the Republican Tea Party”, adding, “The good news is, they will eventually die off (peacefully in their sleep, we hope), and then we can get right on with the OBVIOUS social change that needs to happen, IMMEDIATELY.” The Tea Party ain’t the only ones who are bat shit crazy.

Likely, the moment she heard the bark like coo of the simple minded white nationalism and supremacy pigeons shatting on the history making decency of Barack Obama’s presidency, she was hooked. She knew her melanated self had found her place to shine. In 2016 after anonymous individuals posted her private information online, the exact business her company Social Autopsy was engaged in, Conservatives randomly blamed progressives in her “defense”. I mean they are the bullies. She got hoodwinked, bamboozled, led astray. The far right of social media tricked this opportunist into conservatism and as she put it she “became a conservative overnight.” She went from a suit to a fringed number with clear shoes… and got rained on by the right. She made a career out of supporting the richest US President in history. Surprise, surprise.

She frequently criticizes the Black Lives Matter movement, speaks against the very existence of systemic racism, disrespects Black Americans, and speaks ill of the dead Black males who litter the streets from police brutality. Her Twitter feed is currently full of negative comments on George Floyd because of his alleged past. A past that had nothing to do with his death by asphyxiation from a grown man’s knee on his cartoid artery in 2020. She doesn’t believe in white privilege and seems to believe Black people want White people to fix our lives.Candace Owens is a narcissist. She clearly sees herself as somehow superior to Black Americans because she has Caribbean ancestry, yet she was born in the US.

We are not the same.

She is not one of us. She stopped coming to the barbecue to go country line dancing. She uses her black face as a pawn. Her brand of self loathing is what happens when you don’t know your self or your peers. black v. Black. Perhaps she should have stayed in school. Just saying… cuz ignorance. Checkmate. She claims that expecting white people to correct racism speaks to their superiority and that Black people blame their positioning on White people. Wrong. White privilege is a very real phenomenon that gives White people carte blanche opportunity, justice, protection, and the benefit of the doubt. They granted that to themselves. It is up to them to relinquish their stronghold on humanity. Black people only want our fair share of the pie.

Candace Owens is simply a horrible individual based on what comes out of her mouth and her fingertips. Anyone who would attempt to justify a man’s murder… his face held against the concrete, calling for his mother, last breaths escaping from his mouth…by asphyxiation from a knee in his neck is an idiot. He didn’t get tortured for 8:46 because he was once accused of a crime, but because he was Black. Here’s what Candace doesn’t know… Had she been driving down a Texas highway and stopped by Brian Encinia and taken to Wallerc County Jail (Sandra Bland) or had police entered her apartment on a no-knock warrant with a battering ram to which her boyfriend, thinking it was intruders, fired a shot (Breonna Taylor) … she’d likely be a name on an RIP list too. She may not acknowledge color but everyone else does.

“Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga /Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga … Still nigga”

-Jay Z

In closing, don’t be like Candace Owens, don’t be…


“When the looting starts the shooting starts”

Donald J. Trump

THIS is America.

These racially diverse people burnt commercial Minneapolis to the ground in the exact same manner that George Floyd lost his life on the ground.

THIS is a revolution.

Racism is a tool of power. It is a direct action supported by the system in power to oppress a certain race of people from forward progress and opportunity. It was used to colonize every part of the world inhabited by people of color to raze the land, steal its resources, and torture and traumatize its people into burying their past to survive their present. Mentally and emotionally scarred people can only grow and rebuild with time and healing… not when that torture and trauma is constantly relived. We begin to believe we must adhere to the values of the culture we’ve had forced upon us and are virtually ignorant of the one our ancestors, the first people, the creators of civilization, were born into. We have exhausted trying to live an American Dream not meant for us. It’s time we gain knowledge of self, for when we know who we are and where we come from, we know our destination, our next move.

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

1. Knowledge of Self

We are the original people. Aristotle, Thales, and the great Greek and Roman philosophers learned at the feet of Egyptian and Ethiopian scholars. At the Temple of Waset in Kemet, Greeks and Romans alike were taught mathematics, science, the building blocks of language, art, medIcine, and free intellectual thought. That’s our truth. Africans were/are communal and tribal, we lost that in favor of American individualism. That’s theirs, not ours. Africans were/are creators not destroyers. That’s theirs, not ours. Africans are/were both intellectually sound and in tune with nature not overly dependent on technology. That’s theirs, not ours. We are leaders not just followers trying to catch up to White success. As such, Black people must unlearn and relearn who we are. To gain power WE MUST believe we are powerful.

“In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity”

Sun Tzu

2. Educate

We take that newfound power to build by organizing… first educating ourselves in every trade, legal, medical, and financial arena. We must also educate our children and anyone who wants to know about our history, real American history, and world history. One cannot effectuate change by wishing and hoping other people act or don’t… we change ourselves. We pivot until we get our shot. Then we shoot… not with bullets but with truth. You don’t just speak truth you act in truth. You show your enemy (yes racists and White supremacist and NOT White people are our enemy) who TF you are. Racism is built on lies that paint us as less intelligent and civilized. We don’t have to prove that to be untrue… it is untrue. What we do need is a multi level approach to ensuring our unalienable rights are upheld. We aren’t guests in America, we are the architects. But no one will listen to your truth unless you grab the mic. We must react with our forward movement. But be a ninja about it…

“The whole secret lies in confusing the enemy, so that he cannot fathom our real intent.”

Sun Tzu

3. Organize

I have watched these chaotic protests in many cities that are infiltrated by those who in turn incite more violence and hide in plain sight. Protests since the Tulsa Riots have resulted from police brutality and resulted in razing communities. We can’t show up with choppas at the legislature, we’ll be shot on sight. So we destroy the things built in our communities, often not owned by us, because of proximity and out of anger. Going forward, we must be organized, prepared, smart, resourceful, and stealth at all times. If you ever see me at a protest we all coming in all Black, faces cover, basically unidentifiable. We got rags dipped in milk or vinegar, two fully charged cell phones each, important phone numbers written on our arms (lawyer, ACLU, mom, hubby, friends, the person with bond money), several of the same sign, water, a planned route, scarves for anyone who shows up unexpected, and a promise of peace for the safety of all involved.

“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

In addition to our preparation on the ground level our preparation beyond the classroom needs to be as stealthy and as smart. Buying stock in the American businesses we have helped build; starting our own businesses; supporting making those businesses quickly profitable; creating communities that are self-sustainable with schools, farms, medical facilities, retail, and opportunities for ownership; using our resources to grow and build not to accumulate; voting systematically (votequadrant.com); running for office in every state, every elected position, en masse; using our money to support Black candidates with an agenda to pass and support legislation that tears down the system that supports racism, law by law. Ensuring “we the people” are all considered and treated like human beings.

Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

-Sun Tzu

The time has come for Black people in America to declare war on Racism and White Supremacy. There is an art to this. We are by far the more creative. On every level we need to come correct. Racism is the biggest racket going. The biggest Ponzi scheme ever. We created real hustling. It’s time to put that skill to good use. Our children’s children need not be born victims.

“I hustle for my last name, not my first.”

-Damon Dash

THIS is a solution.

Dedicated to every unarmed Black person who has been shot and killed in the name of justice, unjustifiably, whose murderers walk the Earth freely today. This is for Trayvon, Mike (Brown), Philando, Eric,Breonna, Botham, Sean (Reed), Sean (Bell), Oscar (Grant), Sandra (Bland), Alton, Ronald, Kendra, Jordan, Amadou, Atatiana, Korryn, Ahmaud, George, and every other Black person who lost their life at the hands of a coward.

That’s enuf “Karen”

My name is Karyn.

I’m the daughter of a Karen.

Karyn White sang songs.

Karyn Parsons acted.

Karen Clark Sheard sings for the Lord.

Karen Griggs is a famous violinist.

We all Black… so there’s that. But more importantly, calling a privileged White woman who uses her fragility in the eyes of White male police or authority figures to sicc them, often for their feigned fear of a Black person being by labeling their being criminal, on Black men and women is not worthy of some harmless joking moniker. She’s a parasite. She’s a human eating virus that needs an antibody and a vaccine. She is no joking matter. Jokes are not weapons. Jokes are often psychological and emotional mechanisms to tolerate oppression. You can’t fight oppression with a nickname.

Be clear, I’m not in agreement that it’s either racist or sexist, it’s a play on a Dane Cook joke and the “Fuck Karen” popular reddit rant. But like WE do… we elevate. So just like “oh my God Becky look at her butt” became “Becky with the good hair” … so evolved “Karen.”

“Karen”: First daughter of the House of Privilege, the portrayer of fragility, rightful Queen to the realm of bitter and racist attention seeking

Once a Daddy’s Little Girl, now she has a bad Bo-Rics cut, she’s worn down the treads of her Keds, those Mom jeans couldn’t get any more pleated to the thigh, and she’s minded everyone else’s business until she looks ten years older. From Princess to the Mad Queen. So she uses the one thing that she knows will get her some attention… her fragility. Let’s call her what she is… dangerous, racist, or liar. I’d prefer we call her criminal. Lock HER up.

I get the joke. I get the Becky joke. I get the Uncle Tom joke. The Dick (Richard) joke. Felicia, Stan… I got it. But the difference between Karen and the lot of Becky, Tom, Dick, and Felicia, and Stan is that her calling the police on bird watchers or picnic goers or management on perfectly respectful cashiers or customer service reps is meant to get Black people in trouble and likely scare us into submission. But in a time when police officers put their knees in the necks and backs and heads of unarmed Black men and women to the point they can’t breathe … calling the police on us for being and not for criminal activity is criminal… against humanity and against the law. That is where we should focus our energy.

Black people are not powerless. We are full of power. It is not defined on the same terms as White power… but it is still influential socially, financially, and politically. We have, as a culture, gotten justice by posting and rallying together against injustice on social media. We have made women millionaires in under a minute. We have watched pizza joints and clothing stores lose lots of customers and money. We have watched large, decades old fashion houses fall to their knees for a spell and rise back up with a council made of us to help them figure out how to right their wrongs. We elected the first Black President twice and then by withholding our votes (and “Karens” uniting behind their husbands) allowed the racist takeover.

Incumbent: The second son of racism, breaker of governments, and rightful king of the aryan brotherhood and white supremacy

We are far from powerless. But we are both reactive and sometimes unconsciously sadistic in our tolerance. There should be no tolerance for racism and injustice. No shuck and jive. No jokes. No bending the knee. Just kickin in the door…

Calling every White woman who earns the designation by racism “Karen” is a joke. We all often laugh to hide our tears. But they need to see our tears and feel our anger. When they hate us, they sentence us to death in the streets. We don’t have to give them the pleasure and energy of hate in order to let them know who TF we are.

Black people: The breakers of chains, crashers of glass ceilings, masters of creativity and beauty, rightful Kings and Queens of all people, the first people.

In that spirit, we shouldn’t label someone lying about a Black man’s criminality “Karen”, just a lying racist criminal. See something, say something. Speak truth to power. To do that effectively, we must stand in our own power, know who we are, and call out those against justice swiftly, consistently, and collectively. That’s for the culture.

We can’t add to our own oppression by failing to call it out big wide and open, then doing something about it. Again, it doesn’t have to be harmful but it can’t be a joke. What Black people know how to do better than most is hustle and create. We have to hustle and create ourselves a space of success that speaks to those who uphold these systems of oppression. We have to continue to police the police, and broadcast their actions. We have to catch racists in the act and broadcast their actions. We have to call for their jobs, their affiliations, their comfort. We have to use our success to influence our way into the right person’s office. We have to become that influenced by running for office. We have to vote. We have to curb our spending with people and companies that support racists. We have to show up and show out.

I wouldn’t be a fan of the “Karen” phenomenon if my name was something different. It’s Steppin Fetchit in response to blackface and the lazy negro stereotype to justify slavery. If we are gonna act, let’s act out a drama, call in Nope. Nope I will not be your target. I will turn the arrow your way. Nope we will not fear you. You will serve justice or be outed for injustice. Nope we will not use dull knives, we coming through slashing with sickles. Nope we wont be slaves to your racism and oppression. Dracarys.

Amy Cooper, her nickname is not Karen… just call her a criminal.

Cue Wyclef… “Someone please call 911…”

You Ain’t Black… not with a capital B

Okay let’s start here… The Breakfast Club is not necessarily the place one needs to go to explain ones political platform and policies to the Black community… but someone on Uncle Joe’s staff, that’s Joe Biden if you didn’t know, figured it was a good idea. So he talked with Charlemagne, I refuse to call him the god of anything, about what will ultimately amount to a pile of nothing anyone will remember because he made this statement…

If you got a problem figuring out if you are for me or Trump, then you ain’t Black.

Joe Biden, The Breakfast Club Interview

So what’s the MF fuss?

Let’s first just keep it all the way one hunnid… Uncle Joe meant… you ain’t Black with a capital B. Cuz the truth is if you are not for the freedom and liberation of all Black people from systems of oppression, you might be born black, but you ain’t “loving this melanin, beautiful as we are, stand up against racism, rooting for everybody Black, for the culture” Black! If you are… there are just some things you will not do. Period! One if those things is voting for the incumbent in November. Period, the Sequel!

Now Uncle Joe has apologized, it was a gaffe, a mistake, he misspoke… BUT the sentiment of what he said is correct. And this is coming from an educated, privileged, middle class, professional, and militant AF Black woman… mostly educated and militant if anyone is asking. You should tho… ask about me. I’m Blackity Black, Black mixed with Black. I don’t play those reindeer games, and I despise anything that seeks to hint that all that is Black is not beautiful. We are who they (supremacists) want to be, but they can’t. So they paint us lesser than, in need of saving, uneducated, ignorant to try to cover up all of this colorful wonderfulness and inherent goodness.

Recall… we didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us because white nationalists threw it at us. So we good people out here in these mean streets. It was our sister who was pushed, shoved, and struck by supremacists at the incumbent’s rally. It was our people he called “the Blacks”… as if we are some foreign object and not native people. It is President Obama, who we showed up for by the bus loads, that lives rent free in the incumbent’s head as the recipient of the Presidency by affirmative action and at the expense of some other old White man. He abhors Black success… because in his mind it is never supposed to usurp White success.

Donald J. Trump is the President of the United States because old and angry White men hate women and Black people, and poor angry White people never thought they’d be in the bottom of the totem. They thought, at least we above the Blacks… until Obama. I mean Jay-Z, a Black rapper became a billionaire. Kanye West married the rich White girl who had no talent to speak of…none. Beyoncé… well she bodied everybody constantly. And Mrs. Obama was a movement by herself. And White folks were big mad, bigly.

So the patriarchy reviled, attacked, sabotaged, and voted against Hillary Clinton. The racists, which outnumber the patriarchy, enter old and young, bitter, and angry White women, were trying to right the wrongs of a Black man at the helm by reestablishing the White norm. White primacy. The black peoples who voted for him want to be White-ish. They want to be free of these burdens of not being accepted, being treated as lesser than, having their success challenged. And they will throw others of us under the bus to get there. But that comes with the territory… it’s the hard water, spiders, and tall weeds that come on that forty acres. It’s our mule… but it comes with all this sauce, this dope AF, creative, historic, beautiful, overcoming, uplifting, communal, and fly ass sauce!

So if in November you are confused about who to vote for, because in the 80s, Joe Biden wrote a crime bill during the height of the drug game and the proliferation of assault weapons in communities across the country, I suggest you free your mind. Today, unarmed young Black men and women are being gunned down and hunted by police and other White people in daylight, on social media, and on camera not because of drugs or guns but because they are Black… period. We should be holding those people whose jobs are paid for, in part or whole, by our tax dollars and especially those we elect, to the highest standards. Racism and promoting a cost policies is a no go. You cannot care about your Black progeny and your Black ancestors if you vote in favor of anyone who supports that.

So while the media has big fun with Uncle Joe, keep your eyes on the prize. We need a leader in this country who values all of us and our humanity. Who speaks out against police brutality against black and brown people, who hires people who will promote our education and fair housing, and who doesn’t think there could ever be anything good about white supremacists who run over innocent people in the name of superiority. And if you would ever vote for a man who thinks that your mama is a second class citizen and only deserves a job that includes ironing his big ass draws… you ain’t Black with a capital B. You just black and you hate yourself.

Joe Biden for President 2020 … suckas!

A Stale Mate

Do you throw milk away on the date on the carton. What’s the difference between the sell by date and an expiration date? If you continue to drink the milk, at what point will it make you sick? Do you wait until it stinks? In my experience, we don’t fuck with the milk past the date on the carton, regardless of whether it says sell by or use by. Why wait until it’s spoiled to find out…

So why do we keep people around longer than they are needed and useful? Why do we ignore the expiration dates on our relationships, especially those that are romantic in nature? Why do we wait until people literally stink up our lives, make us emotionally and spiritually sick, before we walk away?

People are complex organisms… our brains, our mental center, and our “heart” or more appropriately our souls, our spiritual center, are both very much guided by our emotions. We may KNOW something is the right choice but not FEEL like it is, and be at a standstill. Our mind and our soul might be delivering the same message, but our bodies start to physically long for what it is used to receiving from a mate, their touch or just presence. We have physical reactions based on our emotional experiences. We cry, we tremble, we feel physical pain and anguish… at the mere thought of letting them go. Like the milk, we don’t want to waste… money or time. But the cost of milk versus the cost of letting don’t compare to the cost of getting physically sick or being emotionally scarred and abused. Expiration dates aren’t written on people like milk, but yet we still know when that time has come. The trick is in letting go.

I once spent years, not consecutively, but years nonetheless, trying to make a relationship work, with this man. We looked good together, we were both successful, we seemed a good match. Yet, no matter how good things would be going, we’d come to a point where he would become what I later realized was emotionally abusive. As good of a match as we seemed to make in paper, he was severely insecure about my friendships, professional success, position, and intelligence. Years would go by and we would run into each other and fall back into old ways, spending time together. Yet the last time, once I was aware fully of what was happening, I no longer needed explanations, closure, or anything but to shelve his ass into someone else’s pantry. He was not healthy for me, he was past his expiration, and was spoiled AF. He probably had mold spores by this point. It was a wrap. Unlike anytime before, I had done the changing. I was so protective of my own peace and my self that I would not allow any stale mate to position himself on my already full plate. I need nourishment, and my food can touch. I didn’t need him ruining or taking any valuable time from the other parts of my life.

We often hold on to people in fear of them leaving an empty space we believe we might never refill. But trust me, other people who are looking for the type of relationship you have to offer are always present. You just have to be as well. Removing the unnecessary will make room for others. The act of being able to remove those who do you no good is not possible until you take inventory of what you allow to sit on your shelves, waiting to be picked up again, and purge everything that is not in service of making you better. It’s much easier to type it than to do it, but it can be done. If you have a new box of Crunch Berries and you both are calling each other’s names, but you still have spoiled milk in the fridge, you’ll never answer the call. That same carton of spoiled milk will flash in ur mind when you are grocery shopping, making you believe you don’t need a new fresh carton. It’ll have you dreaming of cookies and milk… but in reality it’s no cookies and shit for you. Get rid of everything that holds you back… spoiled milk and stale men, moldy bread and broads doing the most. It is easy, you just close that space in your life. Bust a MFin move!

We make excuses for people and our own behavior that keeps us locked in places not meant for us. In love relationships, uncertainty is always there. When we see someone as long term, and the terms don’t meet our expectations, the first time, we tend to make excuses for folks. Yet we carry that little bit of heartbreak through the span of the relationship until it has reached a point of no return💔. Then we reside in that heartbreak for months and years, never standing up and moving out of the muck to fresh ground. That first disrespectful comment will likely be followed by another. That first push or balled up fist will definitely be followed by another. That first other woman may either stay or go away when the newer one appears. Continuing in it is a choice. Letting go is a choice. We can still validate our feelings of disappointment, upset, heartbreak and simultaneously free ourselves from people who mean us no good, who won’t protect us, and who harm us mind, body, and soul. But you can also walk away the first time. They were ripe for the tossing at that point.

I don’t know much. But I’m sure that love is kind and patient. It’s not abusive, inconsistent, disrespectful, hateful, chaotic, or ever ever unsafe. It won’t play a hoax on your soul, trick your mind, or cause your body trauma. It won’t make you sick, and it’s not stale and definitely not spoiled. Love is always fresh and nourishing. Get you sum! And cut that zero…

State Ya Biz

Friend or foe yo?


I have always oddly admired folks were were friendly and outgoing, and simultaneously been uninterested in being either of those things. I don’t deal with too many people at once because it’s confusing and I need to know who is real at all times… that’s hard in a big group. I don’t do foes… you won’t be around long enough to even get a title.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten more open because at this point I trust my people skills and refuse to lessen myself to accommodate others. But that comes with greater responsibility to myself. So I refuse to be bothered with you if I find out you are either 1) inconsistent, 2) an imposter, 4) dishonest or 5)selfish. Those things usually come across in how you behave when others are involved… you lie, you fake the funk, you only act in consideration of self and not others, and/or you change your tune depending on the audience. Keep it a dollar with me… cuz if it don’t make dollars…

You draw, better be Picasso, y’know the best

‘Cause if this is not so, ah, god bless

-Jay-Z “Friend or Foe”

I believe in forgiveness and giving folks grace when you know they are good people who just got it wrong. But if you are questioning someone’s goodness… my advice, be on some one hitter quitter type shit. At this point be really vigilant about who you share your spiritual space with… someone behaving irresponsibly with no regard for the other people involved are selfish and will push you in front of a bullet to save themselves; someone dishonest will trick you by looking you in your eye why they are picking your pocket; an imposter will put on whatever camouflage they need to fit into circles they know they don’t belong in… and will hammer their square asses into that round hole no matter the cost; and inconsistent people will kiss the devil in private then go ranting and raving about folks kissing the horned in public.

We have a habit of inviting people into our space because other folks vouch for them or they profess their place. Start making people state their business… what you want ’round here? What are your intentions? Then be real Malcolm X about people… sometimes your own folks turn on you when it benefits them. COINTELPRO type negroes are lurking around every corner taking notes, but then will claim they are there to protect and serve you in friendship. They buy their place with claimed commonality, one hand in the group hug the other robbing you. Imposters and liars. Selfish and unpredictable. Be on some “getcho hand out my pocket” type stuff. Protect your spirit.

There is no need to work it out, keep the peace, get closure, talk it out… they are dirty. Some folks sling dirt (along with drama and petty bs) while others of us use it to grow. As one of my best sistafriends says… we are not all the same. We need dirt to grow, but then we transfer to different and bigger pot. Cross go, collect $200, buy Baltic and Mediterranean, and build on the dirt. Concentrate on you, surround yourself with people who are good to you, who want the best for you, and just claim those other folks foes. Or better yet… call them nothing, but gone. Then flex on ’em…

And promise you never, no matter the weather

Neva eva come around here no mo’

-Jay-Z “Friend or Foe”

Invisible AF

Fear is a bitch with a vengeance. When it’s coupled with both the possibility of death and tbe loss of power, it’s not just a bitch, it’s a lowley bitter savage that’s hungry of soul and cold of heart. It’s ugly and treacherous and grimy. It’s the thing that filth and wretchedness are made of at their core. The center of hatred.

Racism is fear’s first born.

While we sit in our homes binge watching and critiquing the humor, wardrobe, and audacity of Black AF, two disturbing AF videos have emerged of Black men in Indianapolis and Atlanta being gunned down. One, Ahmaud Arbery during a jog when he was hunted and left for roadkill like an animal by a White father and son team, in what they claimed was vigilante justice. The other Sean Reed was driving, pulled over, got out of the car asking his Facebook Live viewers to come help him minutes after he was shot down by police officers, one who jokes after murdering this man that he may have to have a closed casket. It’s the same soup warmed over that we’ve gotten used to burning the roof of our mouths with… videos of our Black men being killed with no concern for their humanity. It’s Trayvon, Mike, Eric, Botham, Oscar, Renisha, Jordan, Tamir, Sandra, Philando, Amadou, and Freddie on repeat. These murderers don’t abide by the scales of Justice but by the code of the Grand Wizard. In a land where a young Black woman can be manhandled by grown men at the soon to be elected President’s rally, simply because she protested and disagreed while Black , it is no surprise Black men can be dead AF at the hands of those who pledged to protect and serve and men who claim to seek justice. There is no justice or protection for us.

When They See Us?

They won’t ever see us. We live in their neighborhoods in Calabassas, Brentwood, the Hamptons. We win their awards, when we are properly honored, and we aren’t properly honored because we’ll win their awards. We dominate their sports. Our faces are on their televisions and movie screens. We sit on Forbes lists ahead of many of them. We aren’t hidden, they know we are there. They see us with their eyes but they don’t plan to acknowledge us, our skills, our talents, our bodies, or our lives. Separated only by the color of our skin, the White people who hate us, they see us, but not as worthy of air, sun, life. Not worthy of this country’s nationality. If that ain’t some… I brought you in this country, Ill take you out … hateful AF foolishness, I don’t know what is.

Mostly, they are afraid that we will take their power because we have taken some of their accolades, prizes, and money as our own, through our own toil. But like a true bully, these bullies will only lay their weapons down if we either fight them or disarm them. They once poked holes through our bodies with water hoses and dog fangs, now they hide behind badges and semi automatics to riddle our bodies with bullets. Vigilantism is illegal, not jogging. Murdering a man who was no threat to you and then joking about it shows premeditation, he is supposed to run from murderers. They are afraid we will win their wares, secure bags they thought they had a skin color right to, and collect allies that share their skin tone but not their hatred. They should be. Bullets don’t kill spirits, they strengthen them. We get sadder but also stronger as a collective with each bullet you pierce our people’s skin with.

They are also afraid we will take their legacy. With the exception of a few acceptable Black faces, most of America’s history is only positively attributed to white people’s actions. They were the heroes, builders, creators, thinkers, great minds, and the politicians who shaped America and American government. When Ida B. wells (posthumously), an abolitionist, and Kendrick Lamar, a rapper, were awarded Pulitzers… trust it set some of them off. The higher we excel, the less their claims of higher intelligence, civility, and worthiness matter. The higher up we get in government and law making roles, the more we can pull back the veil on these institutionalized policies and systems that allow murderers to go free for months and allow judges to let their murderers go free. We saw that video of Arbery and our social media presence, sharing, and loud demands for justice had to at least be considered. But even small victories matter when our lives are being snuffed out.

Their legacy is also threatened by each biracial couple and child, White boy at a Travis Scott concert, White girl twerking on Tik Tok and speaking in what she thinks is some colloquial Black language. Cash me ousside. Howbowdat. It’s threatened by their mothers who love Oprah and Iyanla, and their wives who are our allies because every White woman is not the stereotype calling the police because Black people are having a BBQ, clutching their purse at our site, or being some version of privilege and acceptable American ignorance. They still carry confederate flags, wear their Make America Great again infamous red hats, and think Jim Crow is an actual White nationalist hero. They semi worship the American flag and the vestiges of a country where their Whiteness made everything they did acceptable. As they lose that foothold slowly but surely.

The Racist AF want us to be Invisible AF by diminishing us in any way possible. Ain’t no coming back from death. Nothing makes you more invisible. They don’t want to see us.

We here AF tho.

That’s the thing about Black people, we have been stolen and taken, beaten and bruised, relegated to 3/5th, razed, and shot dead. But still we rise. We find beauty in our ashes. Roses grow between the concrete squares that jungles. Let’s see… Black women are the largest growing sector of entrepreneurs in America. We have used the power of social media to make us small fortunes. We run for political office, and despite the stones thrown in our path, we win. We are billionaires… in America. We are the mighty Phoenix… we soar despite… even death. We have found our voices. We have already pierced America with our very existence, bullet free. But imagine us with the means to protect ourselves. That fear seeps from your wounds. Your hate is like a boomerang. Watch out for the ricochet.

Despite our accomplishments, we still end up in some second class holding cell despite being born in this country, citizens by jus soli. (law of the soil). We may not ever win in your courts, because they weren’t built for us. That’s the lesson. America’s internal structure was not meant to shelter us but to keep us out. The rules are different for us. We can’t just wear clothes, go to the store, drive, play, jog, watch TV, catch public transportation, or listen to music in your America. But we have been paying attention, we are whole billionaires out here, whole judges, whole Presidents. We win your awards and take your titles. We want nice thing too. Also. In addition. As well. We don’t want your power, we just want to harness our own. We don’t want your legacy, we just want to live long enough to build our own. See us. Or don’t. But we see you … AF!

You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still like air, I’ll rise-Maya Angelou

Ignorant Sh!t

“Oh you living illegal/because your papers ain’t right/Got you ducking them people/Doing doughnuts in the block/that’s that Evil Knieval/Your daddy left you as a child/ you didn’t get to meet him/That’s why you live in the shits.” -Ignorant Shit, Ball Greezy

It was almost 80 degrees today in Detroit, and the colored folks were out on that dumb shit. Gathering in crowds, figure 8s on Six Mile, lined up on Jefferson like they giving away free COVID tests that all these idiots are gonna test positive on in two weeks (if they can get a test, cuz well they colored folks). It was an ignantpalooza of epic proportions. I hate ignorance. It’s permeating the world.

… but when them Murder Hornets get to the Murder Mitten… then what.

In the Bible, whether you take it as the direct word of God, prophesy, spiritual guidance, or just a book, God proclaims “you will know I am the Lord” and struck Egypt with ten plagues to let Pharoah know he was not pleased. Now I don’t know who Pharoah might be in this modern day tale, but who would be surprised that God is not pleased? We have taken steps backwards in terms of humanity, race-relations, the treatment of citizens by authority, the limits on freedom of some and the allowed lawlessness of others. We are in the midst of one plague while others threaten this country and are terrorizing other parts of the world. And like this deadly virus, it’s only a matter of time before these things cross US borders. But yet… we on that ignorant shit.

This morning I was awakened at 4:00am by two birds singing a love song to each other. One would chirp, and the other distinguishing chirp would come next. I was sleep and I had a nice glass of wine last night, that Earl Stevens 18% boy, so it sounded like they were singing “Always” by Atlantic Star. But whatever the case, it’s been decades since I’ve heard birds so clear and early. I’ve met rabbits in my backyard. Raccoons, to my dismay (and theirs because I screamed like I was being attacked) have looked me in the eye as I threw out the trash. I have seen geese and deer saunter across the streets as if they owned them. The air feels better. The sun seems to be pouring vitamin D from its rays.

Nature has reset.

God is sitting us down. Low down. Way down in Egypt land. He wants his people back… free from these hate mongers and murderers and killer clowns that might not be from outer space but they are certainly not all human. The modern day Baphomets. And regardless if COVID-19 was transmitted animal to human in the Chinese wet markets or a petri dish experiment gone haywire… it’s being used widespread to anchor us. Sitchoassdown ma’ams and sirs. And that’s an order.

An order that unfortunately the devils that walk on their hind legs chose to ignore and have caused the untimely and unnecessary deaths of thousands of people. It’s not just this virus though. This is bigger than just that. That’s simply one plague of many to come if we don’t heed the message. The wildfires in mid 2019 California. COVID-19 in late 2019, Wuhan China. Locusts in early 2020 in East Africa. Now Japanese murder hornets in Washington, ripping the heads off bees, which are necessary to the circle of life. Yet we still doing doughnuts in the middle of major streets… on that ignorant shit.

This is a cleansing. We don’t need Clorox and Bleach and Lysol. Just wash your hands with soap and water yo. Basic shit. We have come to enjoy the luxury of toilet paper, I know I don’t wanna live without it. But we ignorant and can’t even do basic troubleshooting, so we buy up all the toilet paper from everyone else because we can’t even fathom just washing our asses. Soap and water. They say cleanliness is next to godliness…”Then I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean” Ezekiel 36:25. And ignorance… well, “They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them from the hardness in their heart…” Wash your hands and seek knowledge. How many times did your parents give you those same lessons

You see…This isn’t about anything but refocusing the world, shaking shit up, so we can all see clearly that being clean of spirit and soft of heart is necessary for the Earth to spin properly on its axis. Otherwise God will flick that joker like when your mother popped you in the forehead, bouncing us all around like toy soldiers, until we fall in line and act accordingly. So in closing, be good to others by protecting them if you don’t care about yourself, take this seriously, right your wrongs, take your vitamins, sitchoassdown, and realize if you have been on that ignorant shit and you are still alive in these times… all praises due.

Just call this “Wash Yo Hands and Chill” Season.

Why she here Isaiah?

What a time to be alive. We got a commander in chief who wants to know if a Lysol cocktail with a Clorox sidecar will kill COVID… no, but that warning, skull and crossbones on the can should assure you it’s not for social or medical consumption. We have been sheltering in place for five weeks. We have virtual happy hours, dance parties, yoga classes, and meditation. Folks are wiping their asses with McDonald’s napkins, and the NFL draft took place on the phone.

I’m not sure if it’s Armageddon or the Apocalypse… or are they the same? But I do know for sure that the world will come to a complete end before anyone’s Black mama lets you plant yourself smack dab in the middle of his moment… but especially if you plotting on his last name and you look nothing like her… “The name is mine. The name got my daddy’s blood on it.”

So yesterday, all the sports fanatics who have been coronaed out of the NBA season were tuned in to the NFL draft. At the 29th pick, the Tennessee Titans picked Isaiah Wilson. He had to wait until he received the call via phone. After the call came through, you can see Wilson flanked by a young lady, covering his face and head as she hugs him on national television. And that’s when things get interesting.

So, a little background. Wilson is from Brooklyn, he was a five star recruit to Georgia. He entered the draft after two years. He wrestled in high school and gave himself the nickname Panda, because his personality looms as large as his 6’7″ 350 pound frame. Dude is massive and according to his coaches he is a great teammate and pays close attention to detail. While he wasn’t slated to go in the first round by football experts, he knew. So in his special night he was surrounded by family in his Brooklyn apartment, and his girlfriend… who happens to be very blond and very White. “Why she here Ike?”

This year these young men couldn’t get dressed up and go to the live draft, so instead after Roger Goodell announced the teams pick via broadcast, the players would be called by team management to be made aware they had been drafted. When that call came for Wilson, he donned his white Titans hat and his similarly hued girlfriend quickly embraced him on camera. “[S]he’s always booking ahead…”

And his mother … wait for it…

Mama YOKED THE FUCK outta her. Rightfully so! Prior to being supremely hemmed up by his no nonsense mom, Isaiah’s girlfriend was being the quintessential Emily: making it about her. She was scene stealing by jumping her ass in this über talented Black man’s stage during his standing ovation of sorts. Listen and learn young Abigail. Black men don’t get enough shine. So when yours has to forego the traditional pomp and circumstance (celebration) of the live draft and receive word by phone in his living room, the least you can do is sit down squarely on your haunches and allow him his moment… without you jumping in the frame. He is going to literally use his body to stop other men. Giving his body in exchange for whatever million dollar contract, the dollar signs of which lit up in your eyes, he signs. He worked hard. He put in the hours. His family made the sacrifices. You clearly think you are entitled to the spoils, and perhaps you are and will receive them… but get outta his frame yo!

But that’s not where it ends… you knew that. “Something’s on my mind, won’t somebody please tell me what’s wrong…”

Remember Russell Wilson… his high school girlfriend and first wife Ashley Meems literally had to unhinge her jaw bone to open her mouth that wide… but she was EX-CIT-ED. “Make me over, make me nice!” And he did. It’s rumored she was fooling around with a member of his team. They divorced a few years before he became the highest paid player in the NFL and married hip rolling R&B singer Ciara. Once you go hip roll…

Isaiah’s mom was yoking her up for now and later, old and new. She was shielding young and wild Mike Tyson from “gold digger” Robin Givens. She was rejecting the Kardashian spell that somehow weakens Black male athletes and musicians into piles of mush. She was pulling Ashley Meems and her dislocated jaw away from sweet Russ. She was letting Young Jenna know that she was not going to be allowed to steal her son or his shine. Yep, steal her son. I said it.

Like Meems’ molar show, Heather was suffocating Isaiah Wilson with thoughts of Aston Marton’s, Birkin’s, and Calabassas running through her platinum covered cerebrum. She could smell the new leather and green grass. And she was inserting herself in his picket fence dreams by inserting herself into his frame. And mama saw it, and wasn’t going for it! Perhaps he’ll outgrow his taste of the forbidden fruit and pick a round juicy peach. Perhaps they’ll marry and have curly haired light brown babies. Or perhaps he will enter the NFL and enjoy himself… safely and smartly… but fully enjoy the benefits of his hard work. HIS hard work. HIS. “You tryna help Ike?”

Yep, I too am that mama. My kid is gonna be something like the next Steve Jobs. Dude spends hours watching how video games are made, have changed, and of course playing. He’ll likely be somewhere near 6’7″ but he wants no parts of football. But whatever his hustle, whether Tierra or Aaliyah, his girlfriend will already know better than to steal one ray of his shine. If by chance he picks Becky or Abigail, she won’t be allowed to stake her claim to his jackpot until she’s his wife. If that’s what he chooses, sobeit, but Mama’s teach your babies to grow up to be a Black man’s woman… or we’ll learn ’em for you.

So in closing… don’t drink Lysol, stock up on toilet paper, keep your blond bordered mug outta the newly drafted Black man’s frame, … and “eat the cake Anna Mae.”