Cogito Ergo

I prayed hard for Jessica Ridgeway.  That poor little girl went missing and we all hoped that she would turn up just fine after getting lost or some shit. Then they found a body.  They couldn't identify it and we all hoped it was some drifter but really, we knew.  Suburban Colorado isn't a place where you find random bodies.  That's more of a Baltimore kind of thing.  (Side note: There are tons of little Black kids that turn up missing everyday that we don't even hear about. We need to get real about the pedophilia going on in our communities and demand that the police do something about it and take responsibility of watching over our young.) It was Jessica.  We all hurt a little bit when we were forced to realize it.  Then came the manhunt.  Turns out DNA evidence linked her kidnapper to another attempted kidnapping that happened earlier this year.  Big break, right?  WRONG! How did Colorado sleuths catch the nefarious baby killer?  His momma turned him out.  He

Dear Stacey Dash, I’m a huge fan.   My favorite rap video moment is you running through the airport in slow motion in Kanye’s “All Falls Down”.   That however, is not why I am writing to you.   We all know that you’re a very beautiful woman.   I could scarcely describe how beautiful you are in words.   Luckily, this letter is about your politics and not the way you look in a bikini. First of all, I support your decision to vote for whomever you choose.   I disagree with your decision to vote for Romney but that is your choice.   What I want to address is the fallout that occurred afterwards.   Even I got the retweet from one of my friends that couldn’t believe his eyes.   I know that you were surprised at the aftermath so let me explain a few things. First of all, you underestimate the power of black stars to black communities they’ve never entered.   With so few tangible role models, stars of the screen carry a heavier weight than they should be forced to carry.   Further

Pretty soon here I’m going to say goodbye to my dad.   I suppose that I already have.   When I walked into the place where he lived and saw him there, dead, with his mouth cocked open in a very strange angle, I realized that I had been saying goodbye to my dad for some time now.   That body that laid there in the nursing home did not resonate my father at all. You see, my dad was a big guy.   Always was to me.   That body there was emaciated and small; so much not the powerful figure that I remember. When I was younger, I remember how much I wanted to grow up to look like my dad.   He was muscular, handsome and light skinned and I was anything but (I still have beef with every negro that got blessed with being light skinned in the ‘90s).   The best thing about my dad, though, is that he had a serious thirst for life.   He always laughed so hard that you had to turn around and wonder what the fuck was going on over there that was so damned funny.   When I was young, I couldn’t

I’m not suicidal or anything.   I just tend to forget to protect myself.   I don’t even get scared when things get real.   I remember distinctly the first time I saw someone try to kill someone else. Me and the boys were partaking in our favorite pastime; playing football in the street.   It was around the time we were all in middle school so I was around 12 years old.   I had probably just passed the 100 lbs. mark.   It was like any other afternoon in the summer but suddenly some man came running up the street.   Something was off about him.   He was running too hard.   He wasn’t even running that fast but you could tell he was trying his heart out.   Just as he was turning the corner at the end of the block, we found out why.   Another man came up the hill behind us as we watched the running man go.   He wasn’t running either.   He had more of a brisk walk.   When he got far enough over the slope of the hill he raised his right arm, took aim and fired three shots while he was

So... The debate has happened.  Obama, the President of the United States.  Romney, the ex-Governer and Jim Leherer, an old ass white man on PBS. What did I take away from this?  Several things, really. 1) Mitt Romney is a dick and he doesn't respect anyone's rules.  He interrupted the President, he interrupted the moderator and repeatedly talked over them only to hold the fake smile on his face and pretend he was being jolly.  A highschool kid would have been disqualified 10 minutes in to the thing. 2) Obama still needs to show his teeth.  He's the leader of the free world but he refuses to tell someone to shut up and know his place.  Come on son!  You're the president.  You control Seal Team 6 and you can't get somebody to shut up when their turn is over?  Now, I am aware that the President can't ever seem to be an angry black man such as myself but there is quite enough ground between crazed negro and punk for Barack to demand the respect that he deserv

This is a short version of a long ass story that ends with me married to my beautiful black wife. But that's where the story ends, it is way more interesting in the beginning. There was a time when I just didn't date white women.  Amazingly enough, when women started finding me attractive.  This around the time I went to college at the University of Kansas.  Lucky for me, there were enough black women there to keep me happy.  I got into a relationship with this mixed girl (black enough for me) fairly quickly after I hit campus so I didn't have much time dating around, which was probably a good thing. I noticed fairly early how crazy some of the brothers on campus went for white girls.  From afar I studied the dynamic.  Most of the white women didn't want ANYTHING to do with a black man unless he was playing some sort of sport for their entertainment.  Then, there were the hippie type chicks that didn't care what color you were as long as you didn't blow th