Cobb

Make Me!

Doc's patience is being tried by knucklehead members of the Coalition of the Damned. Mine too.

Their new prophet of rage, Tony Muhammad, blasted cops for not raising the dead. Well actually, that's not the whole truth, he blasted firemen for not raising the dead. Well, that's not the whole truth either, because Tony Muhammad wanted to raise a ruckus at the funeral of the dead homie in question as an opportunity to get in cops' faces. That's more like it. And so when he and his bodyguards (why do you bring bodyguards to a funeral? ) didn't disperse at the order of the police the conversation went south.

How did this all start? Hell it never finished. The Nation of Islam regularly spins off Somebody Muhammads (I think the PC term is 'radical cleric') who incite poor, helpless and ignorant people aka the Coalition of the Damned, who have decided that their entire entree into the political arena is all about shouting in public meetings about how the LAPD is genocidal. They lurk in the bushes and wait for any situation that can escalate into the tired old stereotypes. NOI loudmouths is a tired old stereotype. Thuglike cops is a tired old stereotype. But this time it started because of a gang murder. That may be a stereotype too, but it is what actually happened. And the banger who was twitching on the sidewalk with half of his brains in the street was pronounced dead by paramedics. The neighborhood shouted to use CPR on the twitching body while the cops told them to back off.

And so the invitation went out to Tony Muhammad to be the voice of... the voice of what? So that when it came time for the dead banger's funeral, lots of people could be counted on to show up, most importantly perhaps, the reporters for the LA Times who made sure that the murder that precipitated police presence in the first place was mentioned about 8 paragraphs down the page.

So I've got to hear all this from my mother yesterday with all the shit that's going down in New Orleans. Doc had to do crowd control at the hearing and people were getting all in his face. What hearing? Oh, the hearing that our new mayor called so that every possible word against the LAPD can be heard. The room sits 70, about three times that showed up. Now this is where I put the beatdown down several paragraphs in the page.

When, at the funeral for the dead banger, our radical cleric was ordered to stop following police officers he uttered the taunt which is the title of this blog article. He got beat down by the cops. I suppose that was provocation enough but there are official charges assault against the minister.

I'm rather stressed out at the moment, but I feel the need to say things in the face of the people who get in my brother's face. All I can do is shout at the walls right now. I may as well, because that's probably all the satisfaction I'm going to get.

You may well note that the bosses of Tony Muhammad have no comment at this time.

UPDATE:
Doc has gotten the ear of Chief Bratton who is asking for input from folks here in LA about what they think about this situation. So from your keyboard to the Chief's ears. Doc says their is a silent majority of blackfolks that is sick and tired of these radical clerics. I say, stop being silent, because the knuckleheads are drowning you out.

What's Broke Stays Broke

Here's the scoop. Since we've all been watching the MSM for video images and photos and breaking news, we've all been subject to a deluge of cliches. And in America, what could be more cliche'd than age old racial stereotypes? In case you haven't felt the tug at the primative heartstrings, looters have made the video clips. The looters are black. Survivors have made the video clips. Surviors are white.

But here's a particularly poignant observation straight from the blogosphere:

Our biggest adventure today was raiding the Walgreens on Canal under police escort. The pharmacy was dark and full of water. We basically scooped the entire drug sets into garbage bags and removed them. All under police excort. The looters had to be held back at gunpoint. After a dose of prophylactic Cipro I hope to be fine.

In all we are faring well. We have set up a hospital in the the French Qarter bar in the hotel, and will start admitting patients today. Many will be from the hotel, but many will not. We are anticipating dealing with multiple medical problems, medications and and acute injuries. Infection and perhaps even cholera are anticipated major problems. Food and water shortages are imminent.

The biggest question to all of us is where is the National Guard. We hear jet fignters and helicopters, but no real armed presence, and hence the rampant looting. There is no Red Cross and no Salvation Army.

If somebody steals a crate of DVDs from WalMart in the wake of a hurricane, not only are they stupid but they are unambitious. If somebody steals a baker's rack of groceries, that's not stealing, that's forethought. If somebody steals a syringe of insulin, that's not stealing, that's self-reliance.

So the question arises, forgetting race for a moment, as to how one goes about getting a police escort for your particular needs during an emergency. Obviously, if you are a doctor, as the author appears to be, you might get lucky and convince a cop to help you fetch some drugs from the local Walgreens under armed guard. Everybody doesn't have it goin' on like that, and clearly the expectations of what heroics might be acceptable from the lower classes hasn't changed in this emergency. At least, that's what the pictures on Channel 4 suggest.

But let's not mince words. New Orleans is a black vs white town. I was there this spring and all over the news was how clubs in the Quarter were getting sued for racial profiling. In addition to that, there is the kind of black poverty in New Orleans that defies cvility. It's very easy to take a wrong turn off the avenue and wind up in the third world, and everybody knows it. I'm talking dirt streets and standing water in the middle of the summer. There is a not-insignificant portion of New Orleans that a lot of people are glad to see washed into oblivion. But the people who lived there are now souls to be saved. Not everybody is willing to be charitable. Considering that disaster tends to bring out the best in people, what we haven't seen is the daily ugliness of racial New Orleans.

I'm not one to whine or complain about the daily abuses of Class Three Racism that dogs blackfolks and others across our nation, but I am particularly attuned to what goes on when there are soldiers with automatic weapons in the streets. For shame!

People are talking:

Superdome of Shame

Looting or Survival

White Liberation

Racism & Looting

Only A Matter of Time

Keep Moving

Relatives Found

I have been on the phone with my mother on and off since about 4pm this afternoon, and we have been able to confirm that my aunt and cousin are OK. Right now they are Gonzales which is about halfway to Baton Rouge. I'm sure that I'll have stories, but for now I'm just glad that they're OK.

More later.

Relatives Found

I have been on the phone with my mother on and off since about 4pm this afternoon, and we have been able to confirm that my aunt and cousin are OK. Right now they are Gonzales which is about halfway to Baton Rouge. I'm sure that I'll have stories, but for now I'm just glad that they're OK.

More later.

Surekote Breaches

Here are a couple of overhead visuals of the neighborhood that looks like it has been sunken due to two breaches of the levee in the Industrial Canal. It's being reported as the Florida Street levee, but on Google Earth the road is marked as Surekote. It sounds like name of an industrial company, and that surely is the Industrial Canal that goes up to Ponchartrain from the Mississippi.

In this first picture looking south towards the Mississippi, you can clearly see how the levee has been broken in two places. The closest one looks to have about a 250 feet gap. Further south near the bridge the gap has got to be at least 350 feet long.

Now here's the reverse angle looking north from south of the bridge over to the gaps on the east.

Here, you can see that everything to the right of the channel is threatened. That's a pretty large area, and it looks like it will be underwater for a long time.

Aerial View

It's difficult to imagine how bad the flooding is in New Orleans until you see some of the aerial photos. Yesterday, I was pretty confident that the people I know there were OK. Today I'm not so sure, but I know more.

The levee that broke, from what I can tell, is on the north side of the city right on Lake Pontchartrain where you see the yellow arrow. This break is causing the lake to drain into the city.

My understanding is that the flood has moved all the way down south towards downtown from the lake and it has flowed east over to City Park which is bordered on the West by another canal whose levees have held up.

Police officers, firefighters and private citizens, hampered by a lack of even rudimentary communication capabilities, continued a desperate and impromptu boat-borne rescue operation across Lakeview well after dark. Coast Guard helicopters with searchlights criss-crossed the skies. Officers working on the scene said virtually every home and business between the 17th Street Canal and the Marconi Canal, and between Robert E. Lee Boulevard and City Park Avenue, had water in it. Nobody had confirmed any fatalities as a result of the levee breach, but they conceded that hundreds of homes had not been checked.

That's a huge area. By my calculations 3.6 square miles. 2300 acres underwater. For you football fans, 1 acre = 1 football field.

I have an uncle's house on Dumain, just below and to the right of the orange zone off City Park Avenue, but that's just an artificial barrier. I know he went and holed up with an aunt of mine just south east of City Park off Esplanade. I can't recall how big the berms are on that canal that you can clearly see at the bottom right of the park, but that's where a number of historic homes are located.

Either way that's a hell of a lot of people underwater because of a failure indirectly related to the storm itself. I can't tell if it was the surge from the lake that broke the levee or if the wind did it, but the results are catastrophic. When I hear more, I'll post more.

Katrina and the Waves

Eyes on First

In what has come to be a classic example of intellectual property rights vs the public's right to know, there's good news and bad news.

The good news is that some thoughtful and resourceful people have put up some of the cash necessary to chop through the warren of proprietary fetters on the Eyes on the Prize documentary series. According to this story, The Ford Foundation and Richard Gilder have come to the rescue.

The bad news is that none other than the music industry is tying up this process with their expensive products.

When the controvery over the Downhill distribution arose, I first sided with the free distributors. Shortly thereafter, I changed my mind. Apparently the right words were whispered in the right ears and those who can, did. Or at least it seems that they have. Who knows what the ultimate price tag on this matter may be? But it's clear that at the moment the day has been saved.

Blackneck

Simple Pleasures

Ahh.. the joys of fatherhood.

Off the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I've checked out two of the winners of last night's award ceremonies. I'm not so sure who produces the 'VMAs', but I gather it's MTV Networks, that tremendously successful American multibillion dollar corporation. I put it that way because although they are peddlers of a sort, what they are selling is the culture between cultures. For us in the West, MTV and Hollywood provide a very valuable service, if only we know how to appreciate it.

Green Day's winning entry 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' is a very good piece of the truth. Watching the protagonist walk through poses of anomie, every word of his lyrics rung true:

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the boulevard of broken dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone
I walk alone I walk alone
I walk alone I walk a-

[CHORUS:]
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Till then I walk alone

Except that his band members are walking with him, it's actually a video, and last night confirms that it's the most popular video of all. How does one balance this contradiction? A generation ago, another great poseur of our age, Sting, sung about loneliness. In the resolution we found:

Walked out this morning
Don't believe what I saw
A hundred billion bottles
Washed up on the shore
Seems I'm not alone at being alone
A hundred billion casatways
Looking for a home

I've walked down Hollywood Boulevard in the wee hours of the morning feeling as alone as anyone possibly can. And I've looked at the torn pages of my little black book and narrowed the hundred names to seven and counted the reasons I am forever bound and yet lost to them. I have heaved the shudder with my back against the dumpster and watch the tears drop on my silk sweater. We all have. That's the point.

Open Katrina Call

The chances that any of my relatives in New Orleans are thinking about reading my blog today is very, very slim. However, on that slim possibility, they just might.

Let us know you're OK. OK?

Yon vs Bochco

I don't really need any new information about the War in Iraq. As I've said any number of times, we're in it to win it and I'm not panicky over how long we stay. It's basically US bases in Iraq keeping a lid on the Middle East, or nuts like Netanyahu, who by the way is nuclear in case anybody forgot. So while it's really pitiful how GWBush has completely botched the opportunity to create War TV, I have to depend on Hollywood and blogs. Blogs may have a much higher reality ratio, but the TV is damned convenient.

I watch Bochco's version, sometimes with a bit of nausea, on the regular and have realized that it's the closest thing I have to any verisimilitude on Iraq. I put up with its melodrama in order to place my head into the context of the skirmishes units are probably engaged in. There are no photojournalists worth a damn in America any longer. If Dan Rather was the best we had, it's because of the whole culture of the punk kids we send to J-School.

Standing in stark contradiction to the puff-blonde tradition of American news is Michael Yon. Remember his name and blog about him yourself. His blog, which I catch maybe once every two weeks, is by far the most down and dirty, grit eyeball view of troop actions. It's simply True. It's easy to say that Hollywood is Hollywood, but until you read Yon, you have no idea how bogus it might be.

Yon is getting his props in the 'sphere, but I wonder how long we have to accept that his name is not household knowledge like that of Cindy Sheehan. I'm not satisfied that we have to cynically take this problem with truth as just another bit of evidence of the dance of the MSM swirling around the drain. I feel shame, plain and simple. We can do better, and we need to.

Invisible Threat

M11 gets back from his summer vacation today. He'll be flying into LAX when he comes. But his coming was delayed by a rather untraceable fact which was that at least one terminal was evacuated this morning at JFK. His flight was delayed almost 3 hours.

I got the cell phone call and talked to him, so I found out in rapid succession that there was a bomb threat and that he wasn't scared. So I went online immediately to find out what I could. I found nothing. Homeland Security said nothing. The NYTimes said nothing. The AA.com site said nothing. The Port Authority of NY & NJ said nothing. The FAA said nothing. I guess they're supposed to say nothing.

So the Spousal Unit and I had a discussion about who should say what and when. We concluded that knowing is better than not knowing, sorta.

Invisible Threat

M11 gets back from his summer vacation today. He'll be flying into LAX when he comes. But his coming was delayed by a rather untraceable fact which was that at least one terminal was evacuated this morning at JFK. His flight was delayed almost 3 hours.

I got the cell phone call and talked to him, so I found out in rapid succession that there was a bomb threat and that he wasn't scared. So I went online immediately to find out what I could. I found nothing. Homeland Security said nothing. The NYTimes said nothing. The AA.com site said nothing. The Port Authority of NY & NJ said nothing. The FAA said nothing. I guess they're supposed to say nothing.

So the Spousal Unit and I had a discussion about who should say what and when. We concluded that knowing is better than not knowing, sorta.

Open Invitation

I am dragging myself kicking and screaming into the next generation of online publishing with the VisionCircleWiki. The idea is to develop, organically via all the black people on the web who care, a collaborative statement about who we are and where we stand on the issues.

I've been complaining a lot about P6's format in that it's very difficult to navigate and get a sense of where people stand concisely on the issues. I've always seen the blogosphere as a good place to rant, but it's not good at summarization. I think it would be more useful at this point in time to get a kind of full encyclopedia of our political and cultural landscape than to carry out 100 battles and trackbacks. Once I get the flavor of the Wiki, I can go do the portal thing - plus the RSS aggregation and then we are off, boyeee.

So for now consider this an open invitation, left right and center, Old School, New Jacks and yo' momanem, to get jiggy in coming up with some general agreement on the terminology of our age over at the VisionCircleWiki.

Untitled

..and though hunted, never lacking praise
for wending sidelong shuffle gaze
or bitter blasts in justice' gaping lack
in substituted manhood being black

despair is common in these neighbors' eyes
i know the sidewalk cracks and hearing lies
avoid the speech and wish on borrowed time
a windy isle or subtle smile sublime

Ghastly, Heavy Rain

(from the archives - my first nightmare about September 11)

My First Nightmare.
I was at the ground floor of Ground Zero dodging bodies. Nothing moved in slow motion, instead it was a grisly example of cartoon physics. The people plunging towards me were warning me to get out of the way knowing themselves doomed. But no matter how fast I ran, no matter which way I dodged, there was yet another bound to hit me. I kept escaping narrowly as they slammed into the concrete just inches away from me. As soon as they hit with a sickening crunch, broken in their business wear another scream from above would alert me to look up and start running again. Nobody fell straight. I watched in horror as their wildly waving and sometimes broken limbs caught the wind and changed their direction. The women’s hair seemed to fan out wildly; I could see their necklaces whipping. They stared into my eyes as they fell or turned over backwards to avoid my stares. Then glass fell, then shoes. It was a ghastly, heavy rain.

Ghastly, Heavy Rain

(from the archives - my first nightmare about September 11)

My First Nightmare.
I was at the ground floor of Ground Zero dodging bodies. Nothing moved in slow motion, instead it was a grisly example of cartoon physics. The people plunging towards me were warning me to get out of the way knowing themselves doomed. But no matter how fast I ran, no matter which way I dodged, there was yet another bound to hit me. I kept escaping narrowly as they slammed into the concrete just inches away from me. As soon as they hit with a sickening crunch, broken in their business wear another scream from above would alert me to look up and start running again. Nobody fell straight. I watched in horror as their wildly waving and sometimes broken limbs caught the wind and changed their direction. The women’s hair seemed to fan out wildly; I could see their necklaces whipping. They stared into my eyes as they fell or turned over backwards to avoid my stares. Then glass fell, then shoes. It was a ghastly, heavy rain.

Got To Get Over the Hump

(from the archives, September 1999)

i've been thinking a little bit lately about my ability to cash in on the silicon valley thing, and having read a bit of correspondance between nora ephron and some other literate chap, kurt somebody of the new yorker, over in slate it occurs to me that i'd better make hay. people like me are not supposed to get rich, or even wealthy. if the fashion turns against conspicuous spending, all started by the wall street boom way back when, i'm going to be boxed out. these days, it's ok to be rich and black. soon 'we' may all look back on puff daddy and ask, what were we thinking?

i say we in quotes because i've pretty much made up my mind that no matter how ugly i have to be, socially speaking, i'm going to get my goddamn share. i'll be the george jefferson of the 00s by gum, and i don't care who knows it. i'm moving on up, larry ellison style if need be. some of us may laugh at puff daddy like our laughter means something, but i hope to get up above all that, hopefully with better financial sense than hammer. i don't laugh at puffy. puffy's over the hump.

Got To Get Over the Hump

(from the archives, September 1999)

i've been thinking a little bit lately about my ability to cash in on the silicon valley thing, and having read a bit of correspondance between nora ephron and some other literate chap, kurt somebody of the new yorker, over in slate it occurs to me that i'd better make hay. people like me are not supposed to get rich, or even wealthy. if the fashion turns against conspicuous spending, all started by the wall street boom way back when, i'm going to be boxed out. these days, it's ok to be rich and black. soon 'we' may all look back on puff daddy and ask, what were we thinking?

i say we in quotes because i've pretty much made up my mind that no matter how ugly i have to be, socially speaking, i'm going to get my goddamn share. i'll be the george jefferson of the 00s by gum, and i don't care who knows it. i'm moving on up, larry ellison style if need be. some of us may laugh at puff daddy like our laughter means something, but i hope to get up above all that, hopefully with better financial sense than hammer. i don't laugh at puffy. puffy's over the hump.

How to Get a 'C' in Drama 101

[from the archives - circa 1985, a letter to my theatre arts teacher]

context - my drama teacher told us that we should pick a scene for our final, but not anything from tennessee williams, pinter, arthur miller or ibsen because the themes were too complex. i said out loud that was rediculous, snorted and walked out of the class. i only showed up 3 or 4 times in the second half of the semester after i picked my scene and was paired with a partner.

How to Get a 'C' in Drama 101

[from the archives - circa 1985, a letter to my theatre arts teacher]

context - my drama teacher told us that we should pick a scene for our final, but not anything from tennessee williams, pinter, arthur miller or ibsen because the themes were too complex. i said out loud that was rediculous, snorted and walked out of the class. i only showed up 3 or 4 times in the second half of the semester after i picked my scene and was paired with a partner.

Thursday Fragments

Stop, WikiTime
I'm going to try and create a Wiki over at VisionCircle. This should be good. I'll probably be building one for my colleagues and also one at the Cubegeek Blog. It's time to jump into this.

TCB Portal
After that relatively easy thing is done, I should be prepared to go with Wordpress or some slashclone and build TCB's portal. I've been promising to do this for a long time, and it looks like my time is freeing up so that I can actually do so.

Cass Tech Portal
Then I volunteered (for the sake of a hella e-mailing list) to put together a portal for Cass Tech Alums. This could be a nice part-time gig to fill up the coffers of Metro Decisions before I let that domain go dark. Considering the 800 bones I paid the State of California to keep the corporation in effect, I ought to be funnelling more cash through that.

China + Africa = Serious Business
I'm trying not to go off on a rant before I settle down, but NPR keeps getting on my nerves with this "China wants oil and doesn't care who it does business with... African despots...blah blah". The deal is that China can do some rawdog capitalism and you don't have to pretend you're Martha Stewart to do business with them. Wouldn't it be ironic if Africans start associating China with their economic progress instead of America. Seems all we do is Oxfam them every four years. Hmm. Is Chester Crocker behind this? Is Condi Rice?

Speaking of which, now with Colin Powell at KP and Condi Rice eventually retiring, I want to know how they start making connections to the future Good Africa. That's a business I'd like to do business with. At any rate, some of my well-informed readers are paying attention to this in vivid detail when it comes to Ethiopia, and I think they're right to be up in arms about Trade, not Aid.

Thursday Fragments

Stop, WikiTime
I'm going to try and create a Wiki over at VisionCircle. This should be good. I'll probably be building one for my colleagues and also one at the Cubegeek Blog. It's time to jump into this.

TCB Portal
After that relatively easy thing is done, I should be prepared to go with Wordpress or some slashclone and build TCB's portal. I've been promising to do this for a long time, and it looks like my time is freeing up so that I can actually do so.

Cass Tech Portal
Then I volunteered (for the sake of a hella e-mailing list) to put together a portal for Cass Tech Alums. This could be a nice part-time gig to fill up the coffers of Metro Decisions before I let that domain go dark. Considering the 800 bones I paid the State of California to keep the corporation in effect, I ought to be funnelling more cash through that.

China + Africa = Serious Business
I'm trying not to go off on a rant before I settle down, but NPR keeps getting on my nerves with this "China wants oil and doesn't care who it does business with... African despots...blah blah". The deal is that China can do some rawdog capitalism and you don't have to pretend you're Martha Stewart to do business with them. Wouldn't it be ironic if Africans start associating China with their economic progress instead of America. Seems all we do is Oxfam them every four years. Hmm. Is Chester Crocker behind this? Is Condi Rice?

Speaking of which, now with Colin Powell at KP and Condi Rice eventually retiring, I want to know how they start making connections to the future Good Africa. That's a business I'd like to do business with. At any rate, some of my well-informed readers are paying attention to this in vivid detail when it comes to Ethiopia, and I think they're right to be up in arms about Trade, not Aid.

Shy Town

It's past 11 and all I have tomorrow are meetings, but I've had enough nightlife for one evening. I'm concentrating on doing the social thing tomorrow rather than going in my own direction.

I can't even remember which night I wrote that, but it probably wasn't Friday. Now that I think about it, it was definitely Thursday. Here's the dilemma, and I put it to you as a question of manners and morals. You're out at a business social with a bunch of colleagues, many of who are younger than yourself. To what extent should you be honest and outgoing in the context of the situation? Should you:

A. Be yourself?
B. At all times act reserved?
C. Do as the Romans do?

The thing is, it's a nightclub. What does one do in nightclubs? What is one supposed to do? I don't know about you, but the answer for me is, drink, smoke, be merry and engage the crowd. Now when one nightclub turns into a crawl, things are getting a little out of hand. Yes or no? Hard to say.

I found myself answering one colleague whom I find particular likeable when she asked if I smoked. "I smoke in Chicago at midnight in nightclubs", was my reply. I also chase broads in similar situations. Of course for pudgy old married me, chasing broads has a distinct hook, which is like the game of 'If'. It's satisfying enough to size up the situation and recognize whether, as they say at Cape Canaveral, "We have a Go situation." Nothing ever gets launched, of course. Nevertheless it is a rather disturbing mindset that I personally have not been able to quite shake. The problem was, that this was a nightclub whose only attraction was as a drunk tank. A very nice one, but strictly for the purpose of the hookup, or the odd out-of-town-business social. Don't blame me, I didn't pick the joint.

Still, something about the music it got into my pants. So I found myself with another charming young lady investigating the dance possibilities. She suggested The Leg Room and so I did my best to suggest loudly that we get outta the first joint, The Grotto, and get to where dancing could be done. At the very least I could get some fresh air after my 7th drink, or was it my 9th?

So this motley parade of professionals in khakis ambled down State Street to Rush. They headed immediately into the queue for the next bar at the corner, as if it were raining outside or there was no oxygen to be found except at the bottom of the shot glasses. I told them that I was going rogue, but I'd be back. This was my chance to smoke another half dozen cigs and check out the action on the street. As is customary on nights like these, I am very generous with the Marlboro Lights, and at least 4 beggars cadged a square off me. Believe me none of them was cute, and though their cups were out for moola, none of them refused. Cigarettes are an alternative currency for denizens of the night, and I keep it handy like cash when I'm doing the dark prowl. Alas, there was no talent in Chi-Town that night. At least not my speed.

This is my marriage's built-in insurance policy. Not that I didn't goose it a touch by whipping out my Treo pictures of the Spousal Unit and my babies, but 98% of females leave me flat. I am both jaded and picky, which is exactly the right attitude for a man of my maturity. I never see the kind of women who seriously tempt me, and most of the time I don't look. This is a consequence of both my upbringing (Catholic), my geeky career (Software) and my compensation (Night Mastery). I told my friend that I couldnt' stand the place any longer - I've already gotten the names of all the girls I could have possibly been interested in within the hour. It was time to go.

I rejoined the wolfpack at the door of the Leg Room. I'm pretty sure they paid for my cover but at least I saved them a few bucks at the second joint. I had been around that block and I swore I saw some dancing on the second floor. The music was loudest out of the Leg Room so I figured that was it. So I get to my spot after doing a lap and then see that this has got the right dive groove going for it, but I've definitely had too much fresh air. So I'm a bit snapped out of the prowling mood, especially considering the good casing I've given the neighborhood. There were two other joints on Rush at which I made my presence known to the bouncers, but I decided against it all. For a moment, I was envious of the guy in the convertible Bentley with the two blondes, but then I thought better of myself.

The Leg Room seemed much more of an anything goes kind of joint, and I was digging that. The bartender at the register, after delivering the Jack & Coke and recieving a nice tip, lit my cigarette. He understands the business. The business of the nightclub is to cater to the fantasies of all these kids on the make. It was clear to me in that moment in a way it hasn't been since my cousin regaled me with stories of $500 tips when he tended bar on Wall Street in the 80s. I have the eye. I can tell who's having fun and who needs to do what to make their evening right. And I remember that there is nothing too weird. Night Mastery is about wish fulfillment. Since I'd mentally checked out, not having found the appropriate trust-funder to play bad boy with, I continued watching other people watch each other and occasionally make moves. Now it's a blur. Then it was pure enjoyment. I really love people.

Nothing is too weird in the clubs, but that must be hedged around your colleagues. I popped over to to where the gang was to have one more shot of something profoundly citrus, like an orange Altoid crushed into an ounce of Cointreau and vodka. Then I split without goodbye. Twelve drinks is the limit, and I had to pack the next morning.

It has been quite some time since I've had a good prowl in a strange town, and I had a riotously good time with a solid 4 hours of carousing. I only wish I had some people I knew a tad better and people who knew the town a touch better to crawl with. That and the freedom to not worry about retouching the rep. Everything I do works when I've got millions and titles, but I have neither, just.. a past colored by a certain lack of social fear.

I've decided that I very much like Chicago and aim to return. I know I can get a good steak at the Chop House, and a decent margarita at the Grotto. I still have no idea which way the river flows, but I'm going back into Project Gotham to see what I can recognize.

Shy Town

It's past 11 and all I have tomorrow are meetings, but I've had enough nightlife for one evening. I'm concentrating on doing the social thing tomorrow rather than going in my own direction.

I can't even remember which night I wrote that, but it probably wasn't Friday. Now that I think about it, it was definitely Thursday. Here's the dilemma, and I put it to you as a question of manners and morals. You're out at a business social with a bunch of colleagues, many of who are younger than yourself. To what extent should you be honest and outgoing in the context of the situation? Should you:

A. Be yourself?
B. At all times act reserved?
C. Do as the Romans do?

The thing is, it's a nightclub. What does one do in nightclubs? What is one supposed to do? I don't know about you, but the answer for me is, drink, smoke, be merry and engage the crowd. Now when one nightclub turns into a crawl, things are getting a little out of hand. Yes or no? Hard to say.

I found myself answering one colleague whom I find particular likeable when she asked if I smoked. "I smoke in Chicago at midnight in nightclubs", was my reply. I also chase broads in similar situations. Of course for pudgy old married me, chasing broads has a distinct hook, which is like the game of 'If'. It's satisfying enough to size up the situation and recognize whether, as they say at Cape Canaveral, "We have a Go situation." Nothing ever gets launched, of course. Nevertheless it is a rather disturbing mindset that I personally have not been able to quite shake. The problem was, that this was a nightclub whose only attraction was as a drunk tank. A very nice one, but strictly for the purpose of the hookup, or the odd out-of-town-business social. Don't blame me, I didn't pick the joint.

Still, something about the music it got into my pants. So I found myself with another charming young lady investigating the dance possibilities. She suggested The Leg Room and so I did my best to suggest loudly that we get outta the first joint, The Grotto, and get to where dancing could be done. At the very least I could get some fresh air after my 7th drink, or was it my 9th?

So this motley parade of professionals in khakis ambled down State Street to Rush. They headed immediately into the queue for the next bar at the corner, as if it were raining outside or there was no oxygen to be found except at the bottom of the shot glasses. I told them that I was going rogue, but I'd be back. This was my chance to smoke another half dozen cigs and check out the action on the street. As is customary on nights like these, I am very generous with the Marlboro Lights, and at least 4 beggars cadged a square off me. Believe me none of them was cute, and though their cups were out for moola, none of them refused. Cigarettes are an alternative currency for denizens of the night, and I keep it handy like cash when I'm doing the dark prowl. Alas, there was no talent in Chi-Town that night. At least not my speed.

This is my marriage's built-in insurance policy. Not that I didn't goose it a touch by whipping out my Treo pictures of the Spousal Unit and my babies, but 98% of females leave me flat. I am both jaded and picky, which is exactly the right attitude for a man of my maturity. I never see the kind of women who seriously tempt me, and most of the time I don't look. This is a consequence of both my upbringing (Catholic), my geeky career (Software) and my compensation (Night Mastery). I told my friend that I couldnt' stand the place any longer - I've already gotten the names of all the girls I could have possibly been interested in within the hour. It was time to go.

I rejoined the wolfpack at the door of the Leg Room. I'm pretty sure they paid for my cover but at least I saved them a few bucks at the second joint. I had been around that block and I swore I saw some dancing on the second floor. The music was loudest out of the Leg Room so I figured that was it. So I get to my spot after doing a lap and then see that this has got the right dive groove going for it, but I've definitely had too much fresh air. So I'm a bit snapped out of the prowling mood, especially considering the good casing I've given the neighborhood. There were two other joints on Rush at which I made my presence known to the bouncers, but I decided against it all. For a moment, I was envious of the guy in the convertible Bentley with the two blondes, but then I thought better of myself.

The Leg Room seemed much more of an anything goes kind of joint, and I was digging that. The bartender at the register, after delivering the Jack & Coke and recieving a nice tip, lit my cigarette. He understands the business. The business of the nightclub is to cater to the fantasies of all these kids on the make. It was clear to me in that moment in a way it hasn't been since my cousin regaled me with stories of $500 tips when he tended bar on Wall Street in the 80s. I have the eye. I can tell who's having fun and who needs to do what to make their evening right. And I remember that there is nothing too weird. Night Mastery is about wish fulfillment. Since I'd mentally checked out, not having found the appropriate trust-funder to play bad boy with, I continued watching other people watch each other and occasionally make moves. Now it's a blur. Then it was pure enjoyment. I really love people.

Nothing is too weird in the clubs, but that must be hedged around your colleagues. I popped over to to where the gang was to have one more shot of something profoundly citrus, like an orange Altoid crushed into an ounce of Cointreau and vodka. Then I split without goodbye. Twelve drinks is the limit, and I had to pack the next morning.

It has been quite some time since I've had a good prowl in a strange town, and I had a riotously good time with a solid 4 hours of carousing. I only wish I had some people I knew a tad better and people who knew the town a touch better to crawl with. That and the freedom to not worry about retouching the rep. Everything I do works when I've got millions and titles, but I have neither, just.. a past colored by a certain lack of social fear.

I've decided that I very much like Chicago and aim to return. I know I can get a good steak at the Chop House, and a decent margarita at the Grotto. I still have no idea which way the river flows, but I'm going back into Project Gotham to see what I can recognize.

Mommy, Mommy

Walking the chalkline I expect, California seems to be doing the right thing. Who can say if they are for the right reasons? The WaPo reports:

The state's custody and child support laws that hold absent parents accountable also apply to estranged gay and lesbian couples who used reproductive science to conceive, the high court ruled Monday.

Being a legal parent "brings with it the benefits as well as the responsibilities," said Justice Joyce Kennard.

The decision comes a month after the justices ruled that a California domestic partner law grants gays and lesbians who register with the state many of the same rights as married couples, but does not allow them to marry.

It makes for a rather disturbing test case, considering that one of the women had a kind of strange pre-nup.

Lower courts and dissenting justices noted the woman, K.M., voluntarily signed a document declaring her intention not to become a parent of any resulting children, and should not be granted parental status.

So let's get this straight. One of the members of this lesbian couple said, hey I love you but we ain't raising no babies together, and tried to contractually wiggle her way out of the responsibilities of parenthood even though she went throught the trouble to be an egg donor. She was busted by the state. The state did the right thing by the child, despite the fact that the poor baby has at least one asshole of a parent.

I'm not saying this is typical, I'm saying this is real. So let's hear the common sense reaction. Should these people be married?

No.

Adam Hunter

Today's Boston Globe profiles young Adam Hunter:

Hunter, who as an undergraduate headed Howard's chapter of College Republicans, sees himself as part of a younger generation of African-Americans. He is ready to cast aside traditional loyalties to the Democratic Party and forge his own political identity.

I've got vague memories of coverage of College Republicans out of Howard U, and perhaps Hunter is the same guy (oh yeah), but I think we will be hearing a great deal of similar stories as time goes by. By being the majority party, the GOP is destined to make sense of itself in recognition of its various factions. I continue to hope that the African American contingent grows significantly.

I haven't had nearly as much free time as when I was working my own business, so opportunities to speak on college campuses have been, and I've made no progress. However I will be in Greensboro this fall. I am very curious to know how undergrads would react to me and my message, which is born of the experience I've had with progressive politics.

I would sum up my message thusly, African American collegians are more free than their ancestors to single-mindedly pursue their careers. They are less indebted to the idea that some racial catastrophe would 'set back the race' than any previous generation, and they should take advantage of that fact to make more bold attempts at achieving independent excellence. What African America needs is capital formation and a better sense of networking which is not burdended with false socialist politics. There is a lot more social space out there. Take advantage of it. Work towards internationalism. Discover America. Learn a different language. Understand multiple religious philosophies. Cultivate cultivated friends. Air dirty laundry. Differentiate with respect.

I say, of course, more power to young Mr. Hunter. Oh yeah, and start a blog.

Booty

School supplies, a GED instruction kit, pencils, pens. Church fans. Cereal, a roller bag, personal hygene products, water bottles, toothbrushes, crayons, coloring books, a medicine kit, a t-shirt, a self-lathering battery powered razor, knee high stockings. A Kroger frisbee, lotion, notepads, a refigerator magnet, a socket protector, Listerine oral strips, a spanish language exercise video, a Fifth Third beachball, and shampoo samples.

These are some fraction of the goodies my sister got from the Black Family Reunion in Cincinnati this weekend. Oh and of course some baller bands (for ovarian cancer awareness).

Liveblogging the Cass Tech Reunion

As I sit here at 11:24 Eastern, I'm surrounded by one of the coolest Old School crowds I've been around in quite some time. It's the Class of 1980 and the party is jumping off.

These are the friends and classmates of the Spousal Unit. I extended my business swoop through Chicago to get over here to Motown and complete the weekend. Tonight was the dinner, tomorrow is the picnic. Monday is for sobering up.

There are a remarkable number of talented people who have their roots here at Cass, and I met a good number of them. A cat name Boykin who is a senior law partner in DC was at my table. Another brother named Webb does M&A work. I met a brother who's working the number 10 furniture chain in the US whose 30 stores are all in Michigan. There was a Canadian Mountie as well as a true Echelon Van Eck Phreak specialist in the house. Then there's a bit of celebrity in the crowd too. The lovely star of Access Hollywood co-MC'd the evening's festivities. There are showbiz folks from Interscope, a cast member of the Lion King and probably Cass' most famous graduate, jazz violinist Regina Carter (who was rippin' up the floor with a suave brother in a grey suit and Prada glasses). Right next to Regina was Carla Cook. Of course our old friends the Easleys were in the house and it was good to see them after all these years. Too bad Mike Traylor didn't show up..

Introductions went around and the crowd was full of impressive, not to mention good looking folks. The DJ cranked up the volume and the floor was packed. I'm fairly sure that people know that I'm from Cali by now because I worked up a serious sweat. I've got movies of the Cha Cha Slide that should go into the Smithsonian.

I've got a ton of pictures and business cards, and we'll get some of those uploaded in the morning. Right now it's time for slow dancing.

Liveblogging the Cass Tech Reunion

As I sit here at 11:24 Eastern, I'm surrounded by one of the coolest Old School crowds I've been around in quite some time. It's the Class of 1980 and the party is jumping off.

These are the friends and classmates of the Spousal Unit. I extended my business swoop through Chicago to get over here to Motown and complete the weekend. Tonight was the dinner, tomorrow is the picnic. Monday is for sobering up.

There are a remarkable number of talented people who have their roots here at Cass, and I met a good number of them. A cat name Boykin who is a senior law partner in DC was at my table. Another brother named Webb does M&A work. I met a brother who's working the number 10 furniture chain in the US whose 30 stores are all in Michigan. There was a Canadian Mountie as well as a true Echelon Van Eck Phreak specialist in the house. Then there's a bit of celebrity in the crowd too. The lovely star of Access Hollywood co-MC'd the evening's festivities. There are showbiz folks from Interscope, a cast member of the Lion King and probably Cass' most famous graduate, jazz violinist Regina Carter (who was rippin' up the floor with a suave brother in a grey suit and Prada glasses). Right next to Regina was Carla Cook. Of course our old friends the Easleys were in the house and it was good to see them after all these years. Too bad Mike Traylor didn't show up..

Introductions went around and the crowd was full of impressive, not to mention good looking folks. The DJ cranked up the volume and the floor was packed. I'm fairly sure that people know that I'm from Cali by now because I worked up a serious sweat. I've got movies of the Cha Cha Slide that should go into the Smithsonian.

I've got a ton of pictures and business cards, and we'll get some of those uploaded in the morning. Right now it's time for slow dancing.

3 x 4 x 5

Over time I have been looking at the few generations of African American as, well a few generations of African Americans. But I've also referred to them as 'blackfolks'. This is primarily to distinguish them from whitefolks based on some online stuff I was doing related to the politics of race and American identity. I think the term has been usefull for what it's worth, but I certainly hope that it hasn't been interpreted as some kind of essentialist or permanent state of consciousness for Africans.

In fact, much of what I do at Cobb is to explain what I think is an important aspect of African American politics from the perspective of the Old School. No matter what the Old School is, it is distinct from what goes under the broad header of 'black'. It is part of my aim to distinguish various parts of the African American populus and electorate, in other words to speak to the diversity of these 36 millions.

In the first regard, I have identified three streams of political orientation: Liberal, Progressive and Conservative. Towards the ends of giving some historical accuracy to these terms, I'm reading 'WEB Dubois and American Poltical Thought: Fabianism and the Color Line' by Adolph Reed. What I believe is that currently the largest number of African Americans in our history are recieving the same education, jobs and housing as their white peers. Because of this, it is perfectly logical that their political ambitions will be very similar to that of their contemporaries. However there will be notable differences in rationale as well as different priorities based upon the politics they have inherited. I intend to come correct, basically.

Existentially, props go to Nelson George for his spot-on characterization of the 'post-soul' generation. Buppies, B-Boys, BAPS and Bohos. The five-way split goes across class. For those, my terms are based on residential profiles. Hill, Burbs, Hood, Ghetto & Projects.

This gives me 60 profiles which I would say are largely attitundinal. I think they may not be predictive, but they go a good ways in getting us to understand some real diversity in African America.

Now what we have to do is start with these simple breakdowns and relate that back to an historical understanding of various ideas. When we talk about a subject like Black Nationalism, I ask, what did it do? Who benefitted? Who tried to sell it to whom? Who was left in and who was left out?

Plain as Day

My Kinda Nationalist

This afternoon at the airport where I lost my bluetooth headset on my way to Chicago, I looked forward to the peaceful moments above the country where I could stop engaging my colleagues on subjects of Gay Marriage and Black Militancy, both dubious concepts in which a great number of people other than me have invested much faith and rhetorical fire. Wouldn't you know the cover of Fortune magazine at the newstand dragged me back into the latter.

Fortune begins:

In 1962—less than a lifetime ago—Harvey C. Russell did what no other black man had done before. He became a vice president of a FORTUNE 500 company.

The company was Pepsi-Cola, and Russell, then 44, had been a standout salesman in its Negro Sales Department for the previous 12 years. "Mr. Russell's promotion was based solely on merit," Pepsi's president, Herbert Barnet, told the New York Times a few months later. "He came the hard way and has been one of our brilliant young men for 12 years." But this milestone was not greeted with widespread rejoicing. The Ku Klux Klan called for a national boycott of Pepsi's products. The group flooded the country with handbills that read: DON'T BUY PEPSI AND MAKE A NIGGER RICH.

On the cover of Fortune are old heads and new-jacks, veterans all of that place we call Corporate America. Not long ago I was talking about how Black Nationalism bogarded Corporate America, and while some would call that a militant mindset, I would not. If we have that kind of epistemological difference, that's OK, but I am notorious for parsing words to the extreme, and I'd prefer if people used my terms. Nevertheless there was a particular individual who struck me as different than the rest. His name is Lee Archer, and that's a funky webpage about him.

I also found this interesting clip about Archer:

Governor George E. Pataki unveiled a full-scale replica of a P-51 Mustang fighter as a permanent tribute to the Tuskegee Airmen of World War II at the American Airpower Museum at Republic Airport. The Governor was joined by Lt. Col. Lee Archer, a Tuskegee ace whose aircraft markings are featured on the Mustang, and by leaders of Long Island’s veterans community. The replica will serve as a tribute to the challenge the Tuskegee Airmen faced in confronting a two-front war: the German Luftwaffe and American racism.

Lt. Colonel Lee Archer said, “Governor Pataki has been in the vanguard of the battle against racism in all its repugnant forms. It should come as no surprise that he would now take the lead in creating this fitting tribute to these veterans of 60 years ago. This Mustang represents every one of us who have been willing to fight—and to die—for our nation’s liberties. In honoring the Tuskegee Airmen, you honor the inherent strengths of a nation where life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is a right guaranteed to all of us, regardless of race, color or creed.”

That's what I'm talking about. Furthermore, here is part of the Fortune article on Archer:

General Foods sent Archer to the University of Pittsburgh to take a graduate course in financial management. He came back a venture capitalist. In 1973 he became CEO of Vanguard Capital Corp., General Foods' minority-business investment company. Two years later he also became CEO of North Street Capital Corp., the company's small-business investment arm; in 1980 he became CEO of Hudson Commercial Corp., a tobacco-investment arm. In those three roles he helped create 74 companies, including Essence Communications and Black Enterprise magazine. Archer also became a key advisor to the late Reginald Lewis in the leveraged buyout deal that created the conglomerate TLC Beatrice in 1987. "Lee is tough, just like my husband," says Loida Lewis, widow of the Beatrice CEO. "Lee constantly challenged him, which made him better. "

The hardest part of his corporate career, says Archer, was knowing who was going to be fair and who wasn't. For the 17 years he was at General Foods, he kept journals with lists of names. The names are divided into two lists: white hats and black hats. The white hats "gave me a shot," he says. The black hats ... Archer stumbles, trying to pick the best bad word he can think of. "It can't be published," he concludes. He won't name names. For him it is enough simply to write them down.

One of the things I hadn't mentioned in the debate about militancy was a couple of books by Price Cobbs. One of them is entitled 'Black Rage' and the one published after that is 'Cracking the Corporate Code : From Survival to Mastery'. I've only touched briefly on the subject of black organizational strategies, but I believe very strongly that what black nationalist organizations began in their move on Corporate America has been the most useful source of knowledge accruing to the state of African America. They owe their success to the inroads made by individuals like Lee Archer and others who put their heads down, rose up and offered a hand. I privilege this set of skills over those acquired through the integration of the Civil Service and of the Armed Forces, just so you know up front. I find men like Lee Archer to be heroic and worthy of emulation. He's what I would call an Old School pioneer.

Now how do I make the hookup?

Which?

Skills

NRO Covers TCB

Dan LeRoy over at NRO has given a little digital ink to members of The Conservative Brotherhood:

Right-of-center black bloggers, in fact, seem to be entering that public eye almost daily. That shouldn't be a surprise, given statistics on growing Internet usage among black Americans, and the revelation that a quarter of young blacks consider themselves conservative (from an eye-opening study conducted by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies and released last month at the Democratic National Convention.)

From the veteran's perspective of Baldilocks to the playful philosophizing of Ambra Nykol, the Internet is suddenly full of great black writers whose views aren't monolithic — you'll find almost-daily disagreements about affirmative action, President Bush or the morality of gangsta rap — but instead offer a vibrant, hip-hop generation alternative to the broken record of the civil-rights establishment.

We keep on moving.

NRO Covers TCB

Dan LeRoy over at NRO has given a little digital ink to members of The Conservative Brotherhood:

Right-of-center black bloggers, in fact, seem to be entering that public eye almost daily. That shouldn't be a surprise, given statistics on growing Internet usage among black Americans, and the revelation that a quarter of young blacks consider themselves conservative (from an eye-opening study conducted by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies and released last month at the Democratic National Convention.)

From the veteran's perspective of Baldilocks to the playful philosophizing of Ambra Nykol, the Internet is suddenly full of great black writers whose views aren't monolithic — you'll find almost-daily disagreements about affirmative action, President Bush or the morality of gangsta rap — but instead offer a vibrant, hip-hop generation alternative to the broken record of the civil-rights establishment.

We keep on moving.

Watts & Militant Posers

"The fire next time will be put out next week."
-- Albert Murray

I have to confess that I have not read James Baldwin's "The Fire Next Time". But if there is one book that captures the spirit of the desire to see America burn from black rage, my guess is that Baldwin's book is the intellectual ground zero. I also haven't read Eldridge Cleaver's "Soul on Ice", but something tells me that every black prison pseudo-intellectual is derivative. So when Ed Brown asks, what good has come of black militancy, the answer is only a mindset. There may be some usefulness in the idea of black militancy, but no actual black militants have had any military success. Nobody took on the National Guard, much less the Army and won. Nobody made any tactical moves that resulted in any significant infrastructural damage to the enemy, and nobody set up any militant organization that lasted. Sure there were some riots, sure there are plenty of dainty people who are still afraid of traveling south of the Santa Monica Freeway but there has been no land gained. When it comes to speaking of the legacy of the Watts Riots, that insurgency has been squashed.

It should be enough to say that nobody can name any single figure who led the Watts Riots or the Riot after Rodney King. It was a bunch of dissatisfied people going berserk, some for good reason, many for no good reason at all. I've always held that Black Rage is just a substitute for effective politics.

There is a small contingent of people who have attempted to elevate some OG Crips and Bloods to the status of revolutionary leaders. But even if a dozen leaders of the Crips or Bloods were absolutely on that moral and political program, there's nobody anywhere who could say they have been effective to any degree. They're just street gangs, and that's about as militant as 20th century African Americans got with one exception, the Black Panthers, also defunct. Most people agree that the Panther's greatest success, aside from cool-looking blacklight posters, and jumpstarting gun control in California, was their breakfast program and their newsletter. Hardly the legacy of a successful gang of militants. Most of black militancy has basically been nothing but a militant pose.

This militant pose has worked miracles in the academy where a great deal of black success has taken place. I needn't tell you how ridiculous it sounds in the context of world history to recount the sieges of undergraduate dorms and administration buildings, but somehow this has become legend. What an embarrassment.

But let's not forget the power of the militant mindset. Understand that a significant number of African Americans are under the influence of a pseudo-democratic confusion masquerading as radical politics. The problem is that it is not effectively organized and people have to keep going back to the books. It's always the ghost of Malcolm X who is more effective than the real person standing in front of the black crowd. It's always the idea of James Baldwin's Fire Next Time that's more compelling than the actual plan under consideration. There isn't a politics that has any consistent success in delivering requisite patronage to blacks who would be militants. Legitimate black lefties always have to look over their shoulders because one of their followers might be a real knucklehead or gangbanger who thinks that there is some role for them as a violent henchman. There's always a crowd of rowdies looking for an excuse to do damage haunting black Democrats. This is why politicians like Maxine Waters are put on the spot when the street gets hectic. They're not really her people, but they claim her nonetheless, and naturally since she's a politician, she figures out a way to give them rhetorical satisfaction while not actually doing a damned thing that could ever be close to indictable. This is the state of black militancy today.

Anybody with a lick of common sense knows that there's no future in this frontin'. There is no way to win through militant conflict, and there's really no black leaders capable of mounting a rebellion. Well, there are, but they're the good guys in the US Armed Forces, and there is no racial politics compelling enough for them to bolt.

And yet people continue to be seduced by the potential amplification of black rage into black militancy. I say it's not going to happen and woe to those who hope it does. Maybe you need to rent a copy of 'Dead Presidents' then smoke a joint and forget about it. Better yet, rent 'Black Ceasar' and play some Public Enemy. Then wake up and recognize that Steve Cokely and Khalid Muhammed and all other such pretenders don't even merit a trip to Club Gitmo. That's how pathetic their threat is. Your local neighborhood cops are plenty, and if not them then the local branch of the FBI. But the National Guard? Hardly. The Army? Puhlease. The reason is simple and plain. Blacks don't rebel because blacks don't have anything worth rebelling for that rises to the level of militancy. Not unemployment, not poor health care, not police abuse, not racism, not Reparations, not nothing. All that is handled, for better or worse, by a coast to coast network of Leftists, and what African Americans get by way of those legitimate political activities is good enough. The rest are welcome to go to jail like idiot sheep with bad attitudes.

I know there is a sentiment among many blackfolks, myself included, that wishes that there was something more to the legacy of the militant mindset than PE's 'Fight the Power' video. There is a great deal of dissatisfaction out there in African America, and all responsible political thinkers want to convert that black rage into constructive politics. But all wishful thinking aside, we have to admit that black rage is self-destructive. It won't yeild anything but another excuse for knuckleheads to attach themselves to legitimate desires for reform. But from my perspective in the Old School, black liberals and Democrats have not done enough to make clear the distinction between rebellion and reform. So the seduction and double-talk continues and the idea of black militancy hasn't been properly buried with Malcolm - not that he was half the military leader people like to imagine he might have been. So my message to wannabe militants? I quote Sargeant Waters from 'A Soldier's Story': "The black race can't afford you no more."

Put a Figure On It

In the movie Trading Places starring Eddie Murphy, we find two old codgers betting a dollar between them that they could manipulate the lives of two young men. One of them is something of a pansy associate, the other a streetwise stranger. It was a pretty popular movie in those days.

Our TCB associate has brought up the question of the value of human life and asks us to put a figure on it. It's absolutely impossible, and yet it's done every day. The extraordinary thing about economics is that it shows how people vote with their feet. It's not just about what people say they will do, but what they actually do. People collectively put a value on everything, including human life. A market economy tries with varying successes to put the price that everyone puts on everything into currency controlled by the government. And so in America, we can count gains and losses in terms of dollars. What a country!

The important thing to remember is that people have short attention spans sometimes. Other times they are obsessive. So the girl that you paid no mind yesterday can suddenly become a goddess at the center of the universe. You discover she has bad breath... well, you get the picture.

I think that when it comes to a good portion of those things associated with quality of life, we Americans have a fairly efficient market. What is the cost of pollution? Find a neighborhood that's polluted and check the property values. It's almost second nature for us to understand that rich people don't live on toxic waste dumps. But most of us don't either. How much toxicity will we stand? These are economic arguments.

When it comes to healthcare, we Americans have a very inefficient market. There are a lot of interests who resist the very idea of having prices available to the public. How much does it cost to set a broken leg? 'That depends' is about the best answer anyone can give. Last year, my mother underwent surgery to remove a liver cancer. According to a number of doctors, liver cancer is the best cancer to have - the success rate is pretty good. My understanding is that her procedures and treatment were worth about $750,000 and it was completely covered by Medicare. There all kinds of experts and all kinds of quacks and all kinds of suggestions when it came to how and when, and we could not have made any real decision based on cost. It was too complex, not to mention emotional. But all emotions aside, somebody knew how to get paid and what they wanted to charge.

So no matter what people think, despite the fact that we are blind to the complexities of the system, there are price tags associated with human life.

I'm in the business of Business Intelligence. I make systems that help businesses keep track of all their money and help them make rational decisions. I can tell you from experience that the Insurance business is way ahead of the Healthcare business when it comes to using this technology. I also have a very strong feeling that the government's ability to adjust is way outmaneuvered by the healthcare and insurance. So from my perspective, it is very difficult for any entrepreneurial doctors to find a way to help consumers of healthcare, because most of the money is tied up in slow government rules and quick insurance hedges. By the time government figures out a way to arrange public benefits, insurers will have squeezed all the profit out of it and healthcare providers are left holding the bag. We consumers take what we can get, and feel lucky if we get anything at all.

This is obviously, obviously wrong, and it's an enormous problem, because it requires cooperation and coordination across insureres, doctors, governments, consumers and a million lawyers. In that regard, I think the only way to fix it is by government decree, but we are a long way from securing bipartisanship.

There are going to have to be some consumer advocates and some healthcare providers who are going to have to advertise a new way of getting our attention. When it comes to benefits election time, once a year, we hear from the insurers, but never from the hospitals in our community. I'd like to see a range of hospitals in LA tell me how I could go COBRA and save based on a lower granularity of a mix of services and benefit than just picking co-pay and deductibles. I'd like my employer to allow me to decide how to spend my fringe benefits with a bit more control.

Until such time as there is smarter public pricing, more comsumer choice and more flexibility with fringe benefit spending, the same people are going to dictate the price of life. And we won't be able to do a damned thing about it.

Liars & Bloggers

There are actually some days when I wish I were an attorney, if only to know what it's like to be hated worse than a black man. Other times, like today I'd like to know the difference between civil and criminal contempt, and in that way I'd understand something about the flap over Bear Flagger XRLQ and even more about the Plame game.

What I can tell is that it's not ok to call people liars at their own website, especially if they are pedantic. I think this is just the sort of thing that is the difference between the MSM and the blogosphere. Long live the blogosphere, where a spade is a goddamned spade - even if it's all in legalese.

Liars & Bloggers

There are actually some days when I wish I were an attorney, if only to know what it's like to be hated worse than a black man. Other times, like today I'd like to know the difference between civil and criminal contempt, and in that way I'd understand something about the flap over Bear Flagger XRLQ and even more about the Plame game.

What I can tell is that it's not ok to call people liars at their own website, especially if they are pedantic. I think this is just the sort of thing that is the difference between the MSM and the blogosphere. Long live the blogosphere, where a spade is a goddamned spade - even if it's all in legalese.

PETA

The Sins of the Associate

I sometimes wonder why, given the amount of intellectual crack many liberals smoke, nobody has come out to be the anti-DeLay. Perhaps they are so convinced of DeLay's turpitude that they feel it's redundant. Nevertheless, it is astonishing to see how many tangents have been tagged to DeLay as the investigations of Jack Abramhoff have finally netted a real indictment.

I listened to NPR this morning whilst driving down the wrong freeway, and I swear in the same report I heard at least 4 qualifications on how nothing in the indictment is connected to Republican Majority Leader Tom DeLay. What a backhanded smear.

I can't stand DeLay myself. I think his ascent has marked the the end of bipartisanship and the ushered in the tyranny of the thinnest majority (which is the defacto worst of the best ideas), but beat him down for what he's done, not for who he hangs out with.

Option P

Poor Brothers

John Singleton has earned my permanent wrath as a storyteller in black and white. It started as the kind of hate only poets can sustain, way back in the early 90s when he broke onto the scene with Boyz N The Hood. Of course it was his trumpeted brilliance as a USC Film student that got me interested in the first place. But the fact of the matter is I hate how he eviscerated all of my bourgie friends in the Dons from his filmic vision of the emerging myth of Southcentral LA. I can't remember which one of the two gave me greater heartburn, Terry McMillan or John Singleton. But that was then.

Today, it cannot be argued that Singleton is anything but an accomplished and mature filmmaker. So there are really no excuses to be had for his latest film 'Four Brothers'.

FB lies in the space between action and drama, a good story and clever entertainment. In the end, the thing it's not is a smart and funny film. It's almost smart and almost funny. In the end, the whole thing just breaks apart when you realize that somehow you are suppsed to feel empathy for a gang of brothers who shot up half of Detroit in a vendetta against the killers of their mother.

The timing and the editing of this film is just miserable. Too many shots of actors looking off in the distance behind the camera. Turn the camera around, dammit. Too many drawn out scenes.. ah. It could have been better but it wasn't.

Since I'm feeling rather combattive and restive this evening, I'll just cruise around looking for people to defend Singleton's singularly gritty hard-knock life. This one could have been fun like 'Biker Boyz' but I think he scotched the potential of this one. 

I give it 72%

The Gay Banana Split Redux

I probably have explained why I think the Gay Marriage Movement is unlike the Civil Rights Movement, but there is a citation that I haven't given which is also central in my logic here. I'll repeat it for the record.

Opposition to Civil Union and an insistence on the honor of Marriage sounds very much to me like declaring oneself white. Take the well understood paradigm of the Jim Crow South. Segregation of public accomodations was the law. You might want to go to a the place marked 'White' instead of the place marked 'Colored' for the sake of equality, but the way you achieve that is very significant. One option might be to burn down all of the colored or white establishments forcing everyone to use the same facilities. The choice of the Movement was to take down the signs one at a time. Another choice would be for James Meredith or Rosa Parks to declare themselves as White. They could have just said, let's declare everyone White.

If they had done so, I think it would have been a terrible error for a number of reasons. And so this is how the Gay Marriage Movement differes in principle from the CRM (aside from the fact that Marriage is a privilege and an honor, not a right). Activists for Gay Marriage are demaning, ostensibly but disingenuously for the sake of equal rights, that gay couples be declared Married. It would then follow that they could do the analog of eat in the White section.

Why I find this so preposterous is that I am confident that the overwhelming majority of Americans, given a case by case accounting of the actual wrongs inflicted on gays, would be amenable to judgements in their favor. With that in mind, consider the judgments made by Frank Johnson. Here are a few:

Browder v. Gayle (1956)
Orders the racial integration of the public transportation system of the city of Mongomery.

Gomillion v. Lightfoot (1961)
Invalidated the cy of Tuskeegee's plan to dilute vlack voting strength by redrawing city boundaries so as to move concentrations of black voters out of the city limits.

United States v. Alabama (1961)
Ordered that black persons be registered to vote if their application papers were equal to the performance of the least qualified white applicant accepted on the voting rolls.

Lewis v. Greyhound (1961)
Required desegration of the bus depots of the city of Montgomery

United States v. City of Mongomery (1961)
Ordered the city of Montgomery to surrender its voting registration records to the US Department of Justice.

I challenge any proponent of Gay Marriage to provide evidence of such a judicial agenda going the wrong way. Consider that there aren't very many even on the watchlist of the ACLU, and many cases are going as planned.

This is a war that cannot be won in terms of Marriage. You keep a-knockin' but you can't come in. Registered Domestic Partnerships? Sure. Disney did the benefits thing 10 years ago, so did the State of New York. But the latest spate of fights over contested marriage licenses in Massachussets and California prove that it's not easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Either way, the answer is probably no.

Dosage