March 2016

MyPOPalogy

The Loss of A Legend

My writing bring all the boys to the yard and they’re like, it’s better than yours.  Damn right, it’s better than yours I could teach you……but you cant teach genius, boo. Today’s guest column is brought to you by the homie, Brendan aka Big aka Big Man aka Socks aka Bree Daddy aka my bruh bruh.  You can usually find him writing some lightweight porn, but he chose to rush the blood to his other head to pontificate on the loss of Phife Di-Dog, who needs no introduction…. Without any further adieu, ado, adew…Brendan? “I’m all that and then some, short dark and handsome/ bust a nut inside ya eye, to show you where I come from……. –Phife Dawg We lost another hip hop legend on 3/23/16 from arguably the greatest hip hop group of all time. Phife Dawg aka the five foot assassin (Malik Isaac Taylor) was the street in A Tribe Called Quest. This little dude brought an epic flow with his high pitched voice and unique metaphors. This one right here, is personal for me. See this group in my mind was THE greatest hip hop group of all time. Not because of record sales, not because of Grammy’s or street cred. This group was the epitome of Hip Hop to me in the Golden Era of hip hop.  They kicked mad flows, had dope beats, wore the flyest gear and spoke about things I as a 16 year old kid could relate to. I remember listening to “The Low End Theory” and thinking these dudes are dope. No raps about drugs or cars or girls, but about life. Beats, Rhymes and life! (See what I did right there). Phife had the dope custom jersey’s (The Seton Hall joint was banana’s), and the illest skills in the group. “I like my beats hard like two day old shit……” WHAT!!?? Gritty videos on the streets of New York made me like these cats even more. It looked like my block. They wore what I wore. I wanted to do a video on the rooftop of the cleaners on 47th and Indiana because of these dudes. No hype man, no huge entourage, just skills. Back then hip hop didn’t make you see the artist as entertainers, but as cats you knew, or cats who your boys knew. They spoke about things we did. Damn right I made sure that “before I get the butt the Jim must be erect!” Now I’m sure my mom wasn’t feeling that last line but my boys loved it! Tribe called Quest wasn’t pretentious, made up, (Phife and Q Tip met at the age of 2) or planted by the major labels. They were just two cats and a DJ with skills. And my generation respected that more than anything. And speaking of skills………… Phife Dawgs so called coming out party was “Bugging Out” on their second album “The Low End Theory”. This album was special to me because I grew up in what is called the Low End of Chicago. But this was the first time we heard Phife really display his skills on the mic.” Yo, microphone check one, two, what is this? The five foot assassin with the roughneck business/ I float like gravity, never had a cavity/Got more rhymes than the Winans got family” You know how many rhymes this cat must have to have MORE rhymes that the Winans got family? That’s a big ass family! Take THAT Drake! Unfortunately, fame, money, ego and “The Industry” sent A Tribe Called Quest through a myriad of issues. The group broke up after its fifth major label album and it was never the same after that. Phife Dawg was well documented as a diabetic and struggled with the disease. Q Tip moved on to do solo projects but never reached the heights of his former group. Ali Shaheed, probably the least heralded member of the group, did what most DJ’s do, continued to spin records. Fast forward to 2008 and Phife underwent a kidney transplant due to complications from diabetes. His wife was the donor and it seemed like Phife was on his way to better health and maybe even bless us with A Tribe Called Quest reunion album. But you can’t catch lightening in a bottle. You can’t recreate the past. While the group did shows and toured, partially to help Phife with medical bills, it was never the same. This is indeed the end of an era, one of the greats has passed and not from gun violence, but from complications from medical issues we’ve known about since day 1. It’s a bit surreal and almost unheard of for hip hop entertainers in this day and age. Ohh and in case some young kid is reading this like “So what, he was just an old rapper”. Dude if it wasn’t for this cat and his group, you wouldn’t know who Busta Ryhmes is………..Respect is due! RIH Phife Dawg. A-yo Bo knows this (what?) and Bo knows that (what?) But Bo don’t know jack, cause Bo can’t rap Well what do you know, the Di-Dawg, is first up to bat No batteries included, and no strings attached No holds barred, no time for move faking Gots to get the loot so I can bring home the bacon Brothers front, they say the Tribe can’t flow But we’ve been known to do the impossible like Broadway Joe so Sleep if you want NyQuil will help you get your Z’s, troop But here’s the real scoop I’m all that and then some, short dark and handsome Bust a nut inside your eye, to show you where I come from I’m vexed, fuming, I’ve had it up to here My days of paying dues are over, acknowledge me as in there (yeah!) Head for the border, go get a taco Watch me wreck it from the jump street, meaning from the get-go Sit back relax and let yourself go Don’t sweat what

MySAYalogy

Its a Bird, Its a Plane, Its SUPER TUESDAY!

Editors Note:  I’ve had to edit this post as some horrid nosey people at my job have sadly discovered my blog.  And since I need to work, I’d rather edit, than have to defend my work, at least until I dont have to work.  Thanks.   Whaddup dudes and dudettes? Couple questions.  Do you love news?  Do you love politics?  Do you love elections?  Have you ever wondered what goes on in a newsroom?  Have you ever wondered what goes on in a newsroom on election night? Yep?  COOL, cuz Im bout to tells ya. NO?  Well, sit next to me and partake of this tall glass of Shut The Fuck Up and be quiet while I talk to the intelligent WOKE people. As some of you know, I work for a local news operation, which shall not be named EVER on this blog and who does not share nor endorse my views. Stick a pin in that info as you will need it as you move forward in the sharing of my life. 3pm:  I arrive.  A hush falls over my co-workers as the most beautiful black woman they have ever seen with an 8 week old dandruff laden crochet job and incredibly gorgeous Jesus delivered brows and eyelashes enters the room. 3:15pm:  Nick’s ass walks up to me, doesnt say hello and asks if I know what time the pizza is arriving. I passively aggressively dismiss him in a way that has him apologizing to me for the rest of the night.  NOTE:  FOOD IS THE MOST IMPORTANT COMMODITY IN A NEWSROOM. Cameras go out? Cool.  Printers down, no worries.  Anchors on air drunk?  We can handle that!  Pizza’s gonna be late.  PACK IT UP!  We out this bitch. 4pm:  Surfing the web to see what idiots and geniuses are posting on The Book, which is where I live. So many ‘I voted’ receipts.  So many.  So many pontificators. So many.  So many political analysts that dont know that today is a primary day.  Nothing except electoral votes will be won.  Pretty sure as of this writing some of them think Donald Trump became president last night. 4:30pm – eternity:  meeting with <REDACTED>, who explains she wants me to log speeches along with updating poll numbers and put out various fires that may arise.  She took the time to explain what logging means, as I did not go to school for 12 years for a MASS MEDIA ARTS degree, apparently.  AND does my favorite thing, which is to explain a simple ass task, repeatedly using different words and phrases, to explain the same damn point. 5:00pm:  meeting with Web Producer who takes 3 minutes to explain a way more difficult task, with the assumption that we can read the notes and make it work.  ME LIKE WEB PRODUCER.  WEB PRODUCER SMART.  WEB PRODUCER THINK ME SMART. 5:15pm:  Nick is happy, as there is no longer a need to worry about when the food will arrive.     6:00pm:  The cesspool known as Florida aka My mothers birthplace aka Stand ya groundland (not linking to that bitch ass) aka Marissa Alexander’s captor aka Hanging Chad  Avenue aka the place that aint shit but rednecks cept the SoBe (shouts out to Cocaine Biceps), has closed the polls.  It was only about 1% in at the time, but it was already a fucking landslide.  Dude won and I believe Monica’s dip’s wife won as well.   Marco Rubio figured out what the rest of us knew from the start….his beginning was his end.  OUTTA THERE.  Campaign Suspended.  (suspended…thats cute) The numbers provided by the Associated Press (AP), which we were using to supply our viewers with info, were rapidly changing. So much so, it was hard to constantly update.  Me and my compadre in arms, Nora, looked alot like this: The rest of the states slowly trickled in.  Missouri, Ohio, That place, That other place, The place over there, that spot and home sweet home, Illinois, which lets be honest is all I really gave a fuck about and one race in particular. 7:45 Polls been closed for about an hour at this point, except for Kendall County, which predictably ran out of Democratic Ballots.  PAUSE:  while we are at this point in the story, why are separate ballots needed?  Just list all that shit on one page, trust that I can read and comprehend simple things unlike my <REDACTED> believes and lets stop killing extra trees, K? UNPAUSE.  Our political editor started screaming so loudly that the walls shook.  He was raving about how The Bern got a court order to keep the polls open an extra hour due to the fuckery!!!!!!  I thought we were going to perform CPR on him if he yelled ONE more time. 8:00pm The race being watched round the world or at least Cook County Illinois:  The Foxx vs Ol Girl.  At first look, I almost started footworking, which is amazing, cuz I dont dance and Im old, cuz in the race for Cook County States Attorney, Kim Foxx, the (Black) peoples champ was doing to Ol Girl what The Gimp did to Ving Rhames.  GLORY!!!! But wait, inexplicably, her numbers are dropping.  WHAT IN THE ENTIRE EFF?  The phones started ringing off the hook.  SOMEONE GET AP (thats associated press incase your reefah addled brain doesnt remember that from earlier in the post) on the phone!!! AP gets on the phone and tells us something is screwy and to sit tight. 8:15pm:  More pizza.  Another Pop.  Bathrooom break.  Give manfriend the silent treatment, while being on the phone with him, then refuse a ride home. (will it ever end?) 8:20pm:  Someone yells, Mya!  Will you log Donald Trumps speech?  He’s on!  WAIT JUST A GOT DAMN MINUTE.   First you tell me to be at work at 7a to field produce the Barbershop cast surprising the kids at urban prep, then tell me you dont need me when I coulda stayed sleep.

MySAYalogy

Oscar on the Rocks, Hold the Bullshit.

man the fucking internet makes me so fucking mad, which is probably not new information. Everybody got a fucking opinion about everydamnthing. (yeah, I know) I wanted to slit my fucking (what is that the fourth fuck of the post?) wrists wide open Monday morning.  Fucking (5th) think pieces from colored people across the land that was POSED TA BE boycotting the Oscars. He made racism a joke! Aint nothing funny bout hanging from a tree! He aint takin up for Mexicans! He made an Asian joke!  Thats’s racist! He came for a black woman!  Dont come for Jada unless she sends for you! (can we all agree to retire that one?) I aint even watch five seconds of the fucking (6th and last, maybe) shit and I feel as if i know all the jokes, but none of the winners, which I dont care about CEPT BAE.  BAE won, y’all. FINALLY.  Please make me famous,so I can meet him and we can become The Guiness record holders for oldest parents. Ahem…WHO, WHAT, WHERE, WHEN, and WHY, Sway?  Why everybody gotta dissect the hell out of the man’s monolouge?  Why Tyrese black ass gotta have something to say?  Shouldn’t he be busy telling Black women why they are habitually single and angry?  If you qualified to tell me whats wrong with me, and lets be honest, that list is long, why aint you smart enough to UNDERSTAND A FUCKING (7th, I tried tho) JOKE. Exhausting. I aint even finna keep talmbout us talking bout us, cuz this morning, two days after the Oscars, I came across a great piece talking bout the others. On The Academy’s inherent exclusionary caucasity, Christopher Rock said, “It’s not the racist you’re accustomed to. Hollywood is sorority racist, like, ‘We like you, Rhonda, but you’re not a Kappa.” I would like to say I was gobsmacked….but, I wasn’t.  Very little suprised me in a world where we holding mock slave auctions for high school students like it’s cool.  But these lil heffas, here?  Only thing suprising here is Stacey Dash isn’t a tweeting Kappa. So unaware.  So smug.  So stupid.  Kappa Kappa Gamma must be the only Sorority in the World with Kappa in its name.  Cuz white people are the only people in the world, if you look at the Academy Awards. As I always (twice) do, I check in with my fave and yours, Tone to see what’s got him tuned up on a Tuesday – turns out, his black ass watched the Oscars…maybe, but he def has an opinion on it. Tone? #OscarsSoWhite  #OscarsBeenSoWhite #ChrisRockStillBlack   Let me just say that I personally don’t watch the Oscars. IMO it has never been a show that offered anything that persons of color would enjoy. Unless you are heavily into obscure movies with subtitles that only made $14.00 worldwide at the Box office. So the recent #OscarsSoWhite furor confuses me because the show has always been the same. At any rate,  the #OscarsSoWhite thing was something to crow about this year and who better than to preside over the festivities than everyone’s favorite on screen crackhead (apologies to Samuel L. Jackson) Chris Rock. Chris is a funny dude and his social and political satire is typically dead on. The whole #OscarsSoNotEbony  “controversy” would surely give him plenty of ammo.  It was enough to make me almost end my 40 year boycott of  #OscarsSoAngloSaxon and check out his shtick. But alas, it was not to be. The Oscars come on the same day as #TheWalkingDeadSoWhite and at least there is a black zombie or 3 to cheer for or against depending upon whose side you are on in the zombie apocalypse. (that’s another article though) So I wake up the next day after my zombie fix and I see that Twitter is abuzz with reviews of Chris Rocks performance. Most people were generally complimentary but I saw some outrage  about Chris monologue. So I went ahead and found video clips of what he said. I’m confused about what people are outraged about.  He stated that Hollywood is racist and don’t do enough to promote diversity. Ummm, this is true. (I’m still mad that Booty Call didn’t get nominated back in the day personally).  There were people upset that he used nearly the entire monologue to discuss #OscarsSoIvory. What else was he going to discuss??  The fact that ¾ of us have never or will never see most of the movies that win at  the Oscars. They brought Chris in there because they knew he could capably navigate the subject and keep us entertained. Mission Accomplished. They were especially mad that he riffed on Jada Pinkett Smith and said she wasn’t even invited. I personally thought this was funny too.  And true. Plus Jada didn’t need to come anyway because she needs to spend some more time at home with her kids helping them remember what gender they are. Well that’s all for now. Until the next time people are fake mad about something. Thanks for the memories Chris. Special shout to Clorox Bleach for their continued sponsorship of the Academy awards.  

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