"Remember that I'm an artist, and I'm sensitive 'bout my shit" (Erykah Badu)


Mafia Styles

We bring Mafia styles to Middle America.
Open up your trench coat and eliminate your friends.
Blood stained our hands with dead life
Before we could understand that every day is not a new epi-dose of must see TV.
And now we�ve got these blonde women on Nightline and Dateline and every newsline in America
Searching for answers in �the media�.
Bitch�news is media.
Turn the camera around and investigate your soul.
You are why we kill.

Generations based in prosperity
Look at us and reduce us to alphabet soup.
X�s and Y�s cannot identify me or my generation.
So what defines us?
This class of impersonal, digital, tuned-in people?
You use us to make your businesses smarter,
Your web access faster,
Your online shopping malls bigger,
Your e-commerce more lucrative.

And you think that by pumping us with dollars
You can give our X�s and Y�s a name.
Change Generation X to Generation ex-spend-able.
Change Generation Y to Generation Yen.
But soon we will fight back with technology only we understand.

(This is a stick-up)

How much is our youth culture worth?

How much did your IPO sell for?

Next Lifetime--Erykah Badu
Let's Get It On--Marvin Gaye
Butterflies--Michael Jackson
Me and Mrs. Jones--Billy Paul

Is anyone reading between the lines?

Watching his Today show interview this morning was like watching an amoeba speak.

Question: How does a person of below average acting ability and dead average looks have a decent career in the movie biz? Whose casting couch has he been bent over the back of?



Smokin' In the Boys Room

First the smoking, then the German video of a drunken Britney, now she might not even be a virgin? It's the fall of a teen pop-role model. Say it ain't so.

While in Rio during now ex-girlfriend Britney Spears' appearance at the Rock in Rio festival, Justin Timberlake was quoted in a Brazilian paper that "She [Britney] may be a virgin, but her mouth's sure not."

Funniest Thing I Read All Day?

"Even in Tweet's video for Oops, she talks of looking over to the left and there is Missy ... looking like a sexy gorilla. Very gayish." (from daveyd.com)

Wrong, but funny.

Reading: Bastard Out of Carolina (Dorothy Allison)

Watching: The Osbournes

I'm taking it easy until Netcomments is back online. I'll save up all of my truly deep, awe-inspiring posts until people can actually post comments to my blog....or not.

Here's a poem I wrote. Y'all can marinate on this while I try to get it together enough to write something else.

Black Grief

Black grief is worn on our sleeves
Like the swastika armband of a Fascist.
It is solid women trying to mourn their loss
By climbing in the casket.

Our sorrow is measured in wails and screams
That bounce off of stained glass windows
To echo through mournful renditions of A Change is Gonna Come.

We display heartache on the front of airbrushed t-shirts
Printed with the likenesses of ours who have passed.
In the midst of a cipher, mourning is poured out of bottles
And disappears as brown liquid to brown earth.

Black grief is not done in secret.
It is too loud.
It is not cured on the therapy couch,
But rather aired in public.
Black grief is not muted tears.
It can never be so quiet.