Facebook Instagram Tiktok Threads

Author name: Mya

Culturess of Pop

MySCREENalogy

Powerful Thoughts 4.7

/

Telling y’all right now – you’re gonna be mad at me.  I’m warning you.  I had empathy for Young Riq last night.  Well really Saturday, cuz I’m a nerd with ZERO LIFE who watches at the stroke of midnight.  ANYWAY….. As some of you may know, Executive Producer 50 Cent was miffed at Starz for not seeing the value in his runaway smash show.  Apparently Court & the Gang wanted 12 eps this season to fully flesh out their story and Starz said: NO BUENO. Take these 10 and beat it.  As a result, a lot of us along with 50 are slightly displeased with the pacing of the show.  This Tasha/Silver love is perplexing and out of nowhere.  Kanan turned on Jukebox rather quickly and conveniently.  No one really seems to care Ghost got out of prison.  Like when Tommy picked him and Tariq up.  That was his FIRST time seeing Ghost and not he aint even get that complicated (to me) ass handshake they do or an ebonically tinged “Welcome Home muthafuckah” or nothing.  But, we still love the shit, so…… The Emancipation of TashTash Season 1 Ghost made the mistake of putting Tasha in a box and perhaps he was right to do so at the time, but now Tasha is coming into her own.  She’s always been cunning and able to code switch, without question.  Now she is seeing who and what she and her life are sans Ghost.  Again, I’m not buying this Silver shit.  It’s inauthentic as fuck.  It wasn’t properly set up.  There were no knowing glances or a handshake with FUCK ME EYES.  He legit met her to prep her for testifying once Proctor was dismissed and the next time they met she was all “I need you.”  WHAT IN THE ENTIRE? No. And I don’t like that milk dude head of his.  I may be more for this if Larenz was in this role instead of the other, but whatevs. In this ep alone, Tasha put Ghost in his fucking place, got to show off her 3LW chops, stood tall in that farce of a tv interview, got a new big rock she can sell when Jamie and Silver both leave her, connected with her daughter and got that pussy dicked out (that is still funny, #RIP CO Darkness).  At the end of the day, she is a girl from the hood, but not totally of it and the person she is with Silver is exactly reflective of the transformation Ghost experienced becoming Jamie.  Them tight assed suits ain’t just fall out the sky. They were always in him.  This lady’s better weave was always in her.  C’mon somebody.  Holla if you hear me. Last Name Sandoval, First Name No Fux This muthafucka here!  The walls are closing in on the AUSAs – quickly.  Mak, the only person that wasn’t suspended, is on all of their asses like lil Duval on an unfunny ass joke. He has been keeping close tabs on the entire team, even going so far as to tap phones.  He knows that Saxe met with Beecher.  He knows that Donovan is the one that found the weapon and arrested James.  He knows that Sandoval has time alone in Truth that no one can account for and he tells him as much, cautioning him to not leave town. This last bit is what sends Sandoval over the edge.  After repeated events to get the rest of the feds to focus on the black man, Agent Donovan, Sandoval set out to tie up loose ends on his own.  He goes to Agent Donovan’s apartment with his silenced piece, I guess ready to shoot the man in his own crib WHICH WOULDN’T AROUSE ANY SUSPICION AT ALL, RIGHT? Unfortunately for him, Donovan’s daughter answers the door and lets him know her dad ain’t home.  The man he was attempting to kill is sitting with Angela, discovering that Sandoval went upstairs at Truth – alone.  Shoulda turned off them security cameras a WEE bit earlier, playa. The Age of Tariq Literally and figuratively.  My boy and I were talking and he said Tariq is old enough to be able to handle the truth.  Well, I don’t think he is out of elementary school yet, which puts him at no older than 14, but with the things life has been throwing at him lately, he should be mature enough to handle the truth – except those closest to him won’t give it to him.  This boy has been on a hell of a ride lately. Family destroyed. Lied to by nearly everyone. Hooked on drugs.  Father arrested for murder. Learned the truth about Shawn’s death. Manipulated by someone he trusted – and listen, this is a major point – he’s literally been fed the truth about his family by someone who has every right to hate his family. Ghost and Tasha fucked over Kanan.  They are NOT good people.  When he told Tommy it was becoming hard to figure out who was good and bad, that was spot on.  It’s a crushing reality when you find out your parents are people. I think there is a compulsion to look down on him, cuz we all hate him, but most teenagers are nefarious little pieces of shit caught between becoming who they are and still needing you to pay for the cell phone they use to call you and tell you how much they hate you.  The little steps most of us took to push back against our parents didn’t lead to a crazy lesbian holding us hostage with a gun to our heads.  It’s no wonder he wants to assert his independence and numb himself to everything going on around him. And sorry Raina, he aint going to no white ass Choate. Someone DOES Win When the Family Feuds – Dre With Julito permanently out the way, Dre is awarded his most coveted distro position over our Latin lover’s decomposing body, but not

MySCREENalogy

New Colonia: Reparations Realized

/

I lied.  I did.  I lied to y’all.  I didn’t mean to, but I did.  It wasn’t even my fault, but I did.  It happened. An entry or ten ago, I wrote about how rage-filled I was about the new show from the Game of Thrones production team.  Following the success of The Man in the High Castle, a show that imagines if the Nazi’s won World War II, those Games of Thrones sonsofbitches, along with two black folks they trotted out in an effort to squash the ensuing outrage, are bringing to HBO a show that imagines that the south won the Civil War and slavery still exists, Confederate. FUNNERS!  Let’s watch a show the re-imagines the darkest part of our history that some think we should just get over! Can’t think of a better way to spend a night of tv watching.  Damn, I lied again. There is a show that takes us back in time and asks us to look at that period through a different lens, a lens that shows what life would have been like for us if we got that forty acres and ol’ Bessie as we were promised, and this show, my dear Myalogists, is BLACK AMERICA. This show takes place in current day America, with free black people owning Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, meaning the rest of the country is in nuclear winter, cuz BLACK PEOPLE KEEP CREATING IT AND OTHERS KEEP ON FAKING IT.  Black America is coming to us on Amazon via the creative team of Will Packer and Aaron McGruder.  Did you wet yourself a bit?  I did.  The powerhouse of Packer is enough, but anyone that ever read or watched The Boondocks has GOT to know that McGruder is gonna be the real difference in this show.  Left alone to his own devices, the comic strip FAR outpaced and outsmarted the show, which is saying a lot – cuz the show was incredibly brilliant and subversive. A more detailed description of the show from Mr. Packer’s interview with Deadline: “It envisions an alternate history where newly freed African Americans have secured the Southern states of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama post-Reconstruction as reparations for slavery, and with that land, the freedom to shape their own destiny. The sovereign nation they formed, New Colonia, has had a tumultuous and sometimes violent relationship with its looming “Big Neighbor,” both ally and foe, the United States. The past 150 years have been witness to military incursions, assassinations, regime change, coups, etc. Today, after two decades of peace with the U.S. and unprecedented growth, an ascendant New Colonia joins the ranks of major industrialized nations on the world stage as America slides into rapid decline. Inexorably tied together, the fate of two nations, indivisible, hangs in the balance.” WAIT WAIT WAIT. Today, after two decades of peace with the U.S. and unprecedented growth, an ascendant New Colonia joins the ranks of major industrialized nations on the world stage as America slides into rapid decline. Does this mean black folks gonna be on tv winning while our oppressor gone be losing? And if you need any further cajoling, here’s Will sharing his sentiments on slave-based entertainment. “Slavery is far too real and far too painful, and we still see the manifestations of it today as a country for me to ever view that as a form of entertainment.” Ever. Um Yes, travel service representative? One way ticket to New Colonia please.  Window seat.

MySCREENalogy

Insecurities 2.2

/

“You hongry?” NOT AS MUCH AS YOU ARE THIRSTY, YOU THIRSTY SAHARA SPIRITED ARID TONGUED HEFFA! Got my pressure up and shit with that shit.  I hate this chick I hate this chick I hate this chick, Bart Simpson on the chalkboard level hate this chick. With that out the way, let’s discuss our Insecurities, shall we?  Cuz I know I saw some of mine, personal and professional – acted out on that screen last night. Lawrissa  So after this dude came and slipped her the hot beef injection, he has her on virtual radio silence.  She tried to sell it to her girls, ‘cept Molly, that they had a nice talk and are on the road to recovery. Cuz that’s what “after we break up sex” is, right ladies? A true blue indication that a man loves us above all others.  Swoon. Especially when he doesn’t even bother to call you after the dirty deed. This leads to fave Kelly revealing that our boyfriend is/was seeing some trick. And we know who that most hated heffa is don’t we?  Doing her very best Mya impersonation, Molly whips out her phone and three seconds later is on Trasha’s IG account. Swear that’s me. Seriously. Malibu. You give me a first name and partial hairstyle and I’m gonna find a bitch. ANY BITCH. Issa tries to act all above it, like she can’t be bothered to look at or show interest in her adversary.  But in them quiet alone moments, she is all of us….dying to not look at the page, but willing to die to see it.  She falls down the most brutal rabbit hole ever, starting at IG and ending on LinkedIn. She learns that Trasha works at Lawrence’s bank and goes down there to confront her…….or something.  In an obvious dream sequence, she “jalapeno pops” the fuck out of ol girl, but in reality, she literally falls back in her seat as Trasha walks by and then gets admonished by a parking lot cop for looking like she was sleeping in her car.  For shame.  She dispatches Molly to get some intel from Lawrence, who tells her that he has no interest in reuniting with Issa (or did he?). This leads our heroine to take back her life.  She spreads her clothes out in her closet.  She moves her pillow from “her side” to the middle of the bed.  And most importantly, she hits up the dating app of her choice and flies her freak flag. Lawasha I legit need to hire someone to write this part of the recap, cuz I just hate old girl so much.  But, I’ll try.  There she is, at her thirsty best, basic cable and chillin with a man who could care less about her outside her box.  He’s noticeably distracted, which her thirst really won’t let her see.  She’s so geeked up at her “conquest” that this bitch wanna start handing out invites to family affairs! Bitch don’t nobody want that sweet assed spaghetti!  Sit down and listen to K.dot.  She might as well have sprayed this nigga with thirstbucket repellent, cuz no sooner than she invites him to the fam bam, he tells her he slept with Issa. FACE CRACK. Well, even Stevie Wonder saw that coming – but Trasha?  Nope.  She’s so butt hurt, and I’m so happy, y’all. She thinks he should go, while I think he should have never come – either way. He does leave, but in his ever present weakened state, returns to apologize.  Like most trash, she offers the only thing she can beyond her box, which she is too prideful at the moment to offer, food.  “You Hongry?”  Of course he is, Trasha.  Weak niggas are always hungry. Molly I hope the next test I take on FB is “What Insecure character are you?”  I’m gonna get Molly for certain.  This was another segment of the show that spoke directly to me, as a woman grinding, surviving and thriving in corporate America.  Still smarting over the white boy earning more than her, Molly takes a different approach.  She’s not gonna be passive aggressive.  She’s not gonna go to HR. She’s not gonna go in the bathroom and cry.  She’s gonna be pro-active and bust up in that boys club.  She wrangles her way into the corporate suite at a hockey game and gets ta codeswitching. This is me. This is so many of us.  Watching her try to fit in – to find common ground with these old unbothered white men, to be noticed – was painful to watch, but she handled that shit like a G.  I’m sure she left out of that game floating…only to return to work with a resounding crash to earth.  Now da bossman doesn’t know her, doesn’t get the jokes they JUST shared, and makes her feel like shit for even trying.  Again, been there.  I’m rooting for her tho.    She found them bootstraps and pulled them up and will now be splitting her time between LA and Chicago, to work on a case with a woman that was just banished there from the LA office.  Molly is smart and capable, like SOMEONE WE KNOW VERY WELL AND SEE IN THE MIRROR EACH MORNING, so I know she’s gonna work this shit out in her favor – cuz black girls are magic. We Got Y’all An old black man was acting like an old black man much to a young white woman’s chagrin.  But hey, that old black man got some kids up in their program, so……suck it young white woman. Session Notes: Issa’s Last Poets sweater, tho. Mane n’ Tail got name dropped. This show is definitely written by black people, for everyone, but super shouts to black folks. “You hear that Brian McKnight?  Two bedrooms.  One for your sleeping, one for your feelings.”  Dude’s a dick in the best way. Raphael Saadiq is beasting on this soundtrack.  But what else would he do? How

MySCREENalogy

Powerful Thoughts 4.6

/

Fuck it. Imma just start calling show creator Courtney Kemp by her new name – The Undertaker.  This mofo’n lady killing folks off like flies!  Now go grab your fancy internet boutique dress and your MKMKMKMKMKMK Kors bag and pull out ya baby daddy’s oversized court suit.  Sign the book, take your seat, have a swig from your flask, check your Facebook and let’s start this funeral. Share ya programs, cuz I done ran out. Kanan and Ghost’s Excellent Adventure Could be me, but shouldn’t Ghost have been a wee bit more terrified when a man he thought he killed rolled up on him in broad daylight?  A gasp or something, at the very least.  So Kanan pulls up with the gun, forces Jamie into the car and reveals that he and Jukebox have Tariq and are holding him for ransom.  Ghosts confesses to Kanan that as a newly freed man, he has no money.  Kanan lets him know it’s gonna be lights out for a lil nigga if he doesn’t come up with that bag.  So Ghost thinks of the one person the audience has been thinking of as a resource the entire time: Tommy – he wants to rob Tommy’s stash house.  Kanan remarks glibly at Ghost’s betrayal of yet another friend…he doesn’t think much of Jamie and rightfully so.  Jamie is a piece of shit at the end of the day.  Anyway, the robbery goes off with only one hitch (turn to page 7 of your programs) and the money is theirs.  En route to Tariq, Ghost kicks off one of his “remember when” convos and I guess that shit worked. I don’t know what memory a nigga could conjure up to make me forget he sent me to jail for ten years, tried to burn me up, and basically fucked my life, but hey….Kanan surrenders his gun to Ghost, who should have shot him in the face right then.  They French kiss then decide to take Juke on together. They enter the crib and find she has a gun to Tariq’s head.  Ghost makes a false move and reveals his piece and Juke knows she’s been betrayed.  She delivers a standard issue villain monologue and Kanan counters with a standard issue death row confession, including the admission that he killed Shawn.  She begins to “talk too much” according to Kanan, and he shoots her in her chest.  He grabs his money bag, bids Tariq an un-fond adieu, and walks out the door, alive and well enough to return to kill Ghost another season. Tommy’s Kind of Town Our boy is here in the City of Wind! He is here to meet with the “Chicago” in “Chicago is pleased” – Jason Mitchitch, er, Mistich, er, Mistych, or whatever, sounds like something you catch on your feet! Rimshot! Y’all, I didn’t even know it was a big boss, let alone a regular old white one. Didn’t see that coming. I thought all dope dealers were black! He tells Tommy he wants him to be the boss of America, and all he has to do is cut all ties with Ghost.  Tommy bristles at this, but agrees.  Jason insists Tommy stay around so they can get it in Chi-style.  Later that evening, Tommy is sitting around holding court with Jason and his gaggle of hoes, telling unfunny stories and copping to murder – Milan’s murder.  This confession elicits a wide-eyed exchange between Jason and one of his henchmen, so we know some fuck shit is coming.  Upon leaving the spot, Tommy is thrown in the trunk and driven out to a hole in the ground – bound and tied on his knees. Just then, Petyr appears and tells Tommy “nah nah boo boo, you killed Milan, now Jason’s gonna kill you!”  Tommy reasons with Jason that Petyr is lying, that he told Tommy the hit on Milan was sanctioned by Chicago, and that Petyr is playing both of them.  Out of nowhere, Tatiana, Milan’s ex, that is still alive for some reason, arrives and tells Jason that he should trust Tommy. Petyr gets the bullet and a nice resting place next to Nicky Santoro (turn to page 9 of your programs). Now off his knees, Tommy cracks a joke to Jason, and heads home to New York, but decides to make a pit stop in Ohio.  He pays a visit to Holly’s uncle, who molested her starting at age 9.  The unsuspecting scumbag is showing Tommy a house he has listed and soon finds himself on the business end of a bat that was just conveniently laying around.  Unrest in Hell, Uncle Molester.  9 year old girls don’t ask to be hurt by those they trust. Kill Jul-Z Well damn. Looks like Julio doesn’t have to worry bout being disrespected by his primeras or anyone else for that matter.  Having seen Dre talk to Kanan the last episode, he confronts him.  Dre triple talks his way out of the situation and plays him like a chick that confronts her manse over some shit she found in his phone only to have the old “I CANT BELIEVE YOU WENT THRU MY PHONE” shit pulled on her. He quickly switches the issue from Kanan to Cristobal.  He positions Cristobal as the loose lips that will sink the ship and tells Julio that he needs to be replaced, and wonder of wonders, Dre has the perfect replacement!  Ever the lapdog, Julio wants to run this by Tommy, but Dre convinces him to finalize things with this new primera, then go to Tommy with a problem that already has a solution.  Julio agrees.  Bad move Julio.  Dre leaves the meet and sets up another meet with Cristobal and El Toros Locos Dude, where he offers them Julio on a silver platter – his only request being that it does NOT appear to be a gang hit since Ghost negotiated for Julio’s freedom.  Later, Julio arrives at the meet to find the men sent to

MySAYalogy

Tony Mooch What They Call Him

/

I’d like to say that things have officially gotten outta hand, but that happened last November.  Since then, the shitshow on Pennsylvania Avenue never ceases to amaze and disappoint.  That basket of deplorables has given us – in the media, purveyors of pop culture and political enthusiasts – so many gifts.  So many. Pre-and-post surgery KellyAnne with her alternative facts and flash cards;     That weird looking dude that did the Sunday shows and demanded bended-knee allegiance to the president while flashing white power signs;     This stunning looker, who has conveyed to the American public that his sole mission is to “break the state,” yet still enjoys a perch in the White House;     The undisputed love of my life;         And this bunch of treasonous assholes.       Not content to rest on his laurels, this most generous and winningest president of theirs has given us yet another gift.  A man that is too stupid to know that you can’t ever really erase tweets. A man that is too arrogant to know that he cannot take on Chris Cuomo.  A man too ignorant to know one of the basic rules of journalism, unless you say it’s off the record, it’s on the record –  a man named Anthony Scaramucci, new White House Communications Director.  Tony Mooch what they call him. This man sat down with New Yorker Reporter Ryan Lizza and gave statements  the likes of which we aint heard since the Puff/Suge Source Awards.  He ripped everyone he could think of ripping, except his boss. He was on one, yall, and the source of his anger seemed to be the incessant leaks coming out of the White House.  Pissed that folks can’t even sit down to dinner without it appearing in the media before the digestifs are served. Highlights, sans my commentary, for your reading pleasure….. About the source of the dinner leak: “I ask these guys not to leak anything and they can’t help themselves,” he said. “You’re an American citizen, this is a major catastrophe for the American country. So I’m asking you as an American patriot to give me a sense of who leaked it.” About what he would do if Ryan did not reveal the source of the dinner leak. “Is it an assistant to the President?” he asked. I again told him I couldn’t say. “O.K., I’m going to fire every one of them, and then you haven’t protected anybody, so the entire place will be fired over the next two weeks.” About Reince Priebus, White House Chief of Staff: “Reince is a fucking paranoid schizophrenic, a paranoiac.”  About himself in third person: “The swamp will not defeat him.” “O.K., the Mooch showed up a week ago,” he said. “This is going to get cleaned up very shortly, O.K.? Because I nailed these guys. I’ve got digital fingerprints on everything they’ve done through the F.B.I. and the fucking Department of Justice.” About Steve Bannon, White House Chief Strategist: “I’m not Steve Bannon, I’m not trying to suck my own cock. I’m not trying to build my own brand off the fucking strength of the President. I’m here to serve the country.”  About him accusing Reince of leaking, which he said he didn’t do after the fact – that his words were misinterpreted, but it is revealed here that, well just read it. “Yeah, let me go, though, because I’ve gotta start tweeting some shit to make this guy crazy.” About why he should enjoy our trust: “Let me tell you something about myself,” he said. “I am a straight shooter.” Y’all.  I will miss Spicy and Melissa McCarthy like I miss Amy and Big (almost), but if this is what I have to look forward to in the way of reality and satire, I’m good.              

MySCREENalogy

Insecurities 2.1

/

Dear Myalogists, I do watch more than Power. And to prove it, we are gonna start recapping a show we should have recapped loooooong ago, when its creator, ISSA RAE, begged me too.  Or maybe I told her excitedly that I was gonna recap her show, like she should give a fuck, and she was like “oh, okay….you, uh, you should,” as she inched away from me nervously. We girls, tho….call me, when you read this, mama! I’m not sure how this is gonna go, as the show isnt super plot intensive like the saga on Starz, but its too close to home to not do anything, so week to week, it could be anything!  Could be a Win/Loss Tally. Could be 5 questions.  Could be 1 long ass question…just lets go on this ride together! So, for Issa….. Insecure is back! The show that made so many black girls see themselves or their friends returned to form Sunday night!  If you don’t watch, Ill do you a quick solid.  Watch this:     Lawrissa Okay good.  So our Awkward Black Girl is still awkward as fuck.She goes on several horrible dates that we have all been on as we wait for our honorable boyfriends to return to us after they found out we had lunch with a male co-worker from seven jobs ago and felt horribly betrayed and cheated on even tho they always sticking their dic—I mean after a bad breakup in which you miss them terribly. Just passing the time, ordering steaks and an extra dessert for lil man man…..But we all know that those dates are poor substitutes.  Issa tries desperately to connect with Lawrence,  texting him bout his Uno cards, seeing if he wants to come by and grab his old Best Buy badge, and asking if he wants the one sock she found in her panty drawer.  But Lawrence is still hurt and STILL FUCKING THAT CHICK THAT LOOKS LIKE EVERY CHICK I HAVE HATED IN LIFE, while wearing out his and his air mattress’s welcome at his boy Chad’s house.  He’s not biting anything Issa casts before him and maintains his cool distance…til he cant.  As luck would have it, a jury summons arrives for Lawrence and Issa finally has her in!  He says he will come by after work the following day.  GOT’EM! Upon being told by Molly that men only want you when you have another dick inside you when you are doing well, Issa decides to throw a raging “winedown” where everyone brangs a frand and gets blasted on Rossi.  She watches the door all night, hoping that he will appear, but he doesn’t show up because he’s on a date with Ugh….but wait!  He does come, after the party and after his date when she and her apartment is looking fuckT (that’s when they love us tho, right ladies?!) She meekly opens the door.  He meekly retrieves his things.  And then he unmeekly throws: her down; and his dick in her. WOWZA.  I felt that one y’all.  What I also felt was that quick cum and pull out kiss on the forehead and nervous exit.  Take me to heaven and then plunge me to hell!  You muthafucka you. Molly is Only White In Name Our b-plot brings us our favorite sidekick and Lil Rel Howrey!  Our hometeam is doing big things out here!  Saving black folks from the Sunken Place, repping his TSA set and now playing a co-worker of Molly’s who I HOPE we will see all season long.  Molly accidentally opens a white male co-workers check and sees that he’s making way more than her.  Raise your hand if you can relate. Is that every black woman reading this at this very moment whose hands I see?  Remind me one day to tell you how a man was hired for a job “somewhere” where he doesn’t know how to execute all of his responsibilities, yet had his superior tell his team member, don’t worry, I’ll do it for him. Yeah.  Anyhoo…that was all going on with her.  Oh, she took Issa’s suggestion to heart, she is now seeing a therapist who has zero time for her issues. Lawasha – doesn’t exist anywhere other than her head.  And good because Tasha LOOKS LIKE EVERY CHICK I HAVE HATED IN LIFE.  She’s so thirsty.  So ready.  So loving.  So supportive.  So ill-equipped to deal with the fire and brimstone that’s bout to rain down on her thirsty assed life.  Lawrence spends his weekends blowing her back out, but wont buy her a taco.  HOW SAD.  Barf. Sitting there with her hounddog sad fucking eyes begging to go out on a Thursday.  UGH.  She represents EVERYTHING I hate in a woman and if you relate to her, I hate your ass too.  It looks like she may win – briefly – since Lawrence’s ass took her out on a date.  But I’ll spend every Sunday praying on her downfall.   Doctor’s Notes Could anyone else watch a show about Kelly and Issa’s Blood Neighbor? That old lady told Issa her ankles were ashy. Regina Hall aint just gonna show up on a show inside our show, is she?  LOVE HER. “Zaddy” is played…let it go. First one of you black women to host/invite me to a winedown – DIES.  

MySCREENalogy

Powerful Thoughts 4.5

/

OH MY LAWWWWWWWD LAWD LAWD LAWD MMHHHHMMMMMMM COURRRRRRTTTTTNEY!  Ms. Kemp you done did your thing this week.  After a season opening that’s left me kinda unmotivated to write, you kicked a muthafuckas teeth in several times.  I apologize Madame Showcreator, I shalt not underestimate you again! This one had a lot, Myalogists…..Sex, Murder, Mayhem, Romance for the streets on dat ass….Julio’s fine fine ass.  Sorry boys…..leggo! The Courtship of Tommy’s Father It’s all but obvious now.  Teresi’s interest in Tommy led to the probably the second most (R.I.HELL HOLLY) shocking moment in Power history.  Since being cut off from Jamie’s teat last week, the old man done conjured up some muthafuckin SHIT to get his hooks back in our hero.  In a super duper elaborate cross and double cross plan that puts all of Jamie’s plans to collective shame, Teresi puts the cables on CO Darkness and tells him that Jamie and Proctor conspired to get him reassigned.  Wishing for the moment Jamie would, CO Darkness is too happy to receive this news and runs up on Jamie – alone in the weight room.  This fool starts talking cash money shit to Jamie, and references, ahem, “DICKING TASHA’S PUSSY OUT.”  WHAT?! I’ve never heard that phrase in my life.  OOOOOH that tickled me – but it aint tickle Jamie, who start beatin dat ass, eventually picking up a weight and bashing this nigga’s brains, skull, medusa oblongata, Malcolm X glasses, cerebral cortex, thoughts, fears, hopes, dreams, cornea, sclera, big white teefus and sinuses in.  (y’all, I kept waiting for that bashing to end with the inevitable, “it was all a dream” moment, but nah.)  Just at that moment Teresi and Black Baldhead Convict™ rush in, in what seems like an ambush on Jamie, but nope!  Teresi turns on BBC™, chokes him the fuck out, makes Jamie trade his blood soaked clothes with the soon to be dead man, and stages a fight/suicide scenario.  Looks like those experimental treatments for Ms. Teresi will continue.  Jamie and Teresi are now linked forever, with Teresi demanding that Jamie give Tommy a cell to contact him with a slight admission that yes…he is Tommy’s dad….or something. The Stern Empire Strikes Back Everybody’s most hated smarmy assed nightlife impresario returns.  After being tricked out of three of his clubs by his ex-wife and Jamie, Stern is back, with a sympathetic disposition and a shit load of cash he wants to float the family.  First, he pays an unannounced visit to a visibly stunned Jamie and hits him with the old “hey millionaires always bail each other out” bullshit.  Jamie ain’t going tho – cuz Jamie is speshul, Jamie is important and Jamie is smart – unlike his wife.  Tasha also runs into Simon Stern, as she calls him, and is lured into his siren’s song offer of help.  She takes his card, after reassuring him the family was good, and ends up calling even after she KNOWS Jamie has been freed.  I didn’t get that move at all.  Let ya manse get home and do what he does best – hustle to get your family back on top.  You don’t take the white man’s help Tasha?! Ain’t you seen Claudine? Sprinting Like You Stole Something Paz says this to her sister near the top of the show in a conversation that left me feeling very bereft that I can’t speak Spanglish.  Why yes Paz, she did steal something…she stole a man’s freedom! She spends the rest of this episode trying to right that wrong.  First she sets up a meet with Proctor, and has him set up a meet with Jamie.  She shares with Jamie and Silver that the feds are planning to confront him with Tommy’s loan, which they feel is payment for killing Greg, thus allowing them time to prepare a defense and get Jamie’s initials embroidered in his tie.  She tries to share with Sandoval that the security tape proves Jamie’s innocence, but he ain’t hearing it.  He tells her to have a tall glass of shut the fuck up and chill out. Having been burned by not speaking up about the traffic stop, Angie arranges to testify on Jamie’s behalf, accusing the prosecution of misconduct.  She and the feds start turning on each other like two kids whose black ass mama just told them if they don’t fess up both of them getting it.  The judge was SUPER disgusted by all of them and begrudgingly dismissed the charges against Jamie.  I dropped one lone gangsta tear – our man in tight suits is coming home! Myalogy Minutes: DICK THAT PUSSY OUT.  It bears repeating a second time. #ripcharliemurphy What the fuck is this Tasha/Silver shit?  Please. Tommy got a big old bong, y’all.  I <3 Tommy. “Chicago’s Losing Their Patience.”  “Chicago Needs Answers Soon.”  – Petyr knows our hearts, y’all. He hears our cry. Aint no handshake, bih – Proctor to Angie. Julio – Imma tell y’all one day how my date to the Power Premiere screening started some shit with me cuz he knew…he knew I couldn’t be in the same room with Julio. We may need to start paying attention to episode 5’s.  Holly bit it in ep 3.5 Tariq’s grey fit was nice.  See God, I told you I could say something nice about him weekly.  Men’s reactions to their boy children fucking is so different than it would be to their girl children. Nice to see Tommy unburden himself of the Holly sitch. Speaking of which, when “family” is breaking down and confessing, a hug would be nice, Tasha Tommy downed the hell outta that juice. Julio saw Kanan…he better say something to the man that saved his life: Ghost. Dre keeps me confused.  Who he working for? The feds sat there and attacked Angela, but kept her around all this time KNOWING she was a liability.  Fight yaselves, dicks. How the fuck is Kanan walking round partying and shit and ain’t nobody said nothing to

MySAYalogy

Justine Did Not Have to Die, but Neither Did Sandra

/

  “To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time.” – James Baldwin Every time we collectively live through the horror of the police shooting black folks down or skipping off scott free into the sunset after committing such a heinous act, this quote comes to mind. However, the impetus for bringing that thought to me this morning wasn’t the loss of a black life it was the loss of a white one…or better yet, the emotion that followed the act.   Last Saturday, Justine Damond, a 40 year old, unwed, baby mama of one, was gunned down by Mohamed Noor, a Minnesota police officer of Muslim descent.  Officer Noor was responding to a 911 call Ms. Damond placed to report a possible sexual assault taking place in the alley behind her house. Upon arriving at the scene, Noor shot Damond through the driver’s side window from the passenger seat.  THROUGH THE DRIVER’S SIDE WINDOW FROM THE PASSENGER SEAT.  That’s fucked up, G.  Apparently, a loud sound startled Noor and he was so scared, he shot across his seated partner.  Surprisingly, neither officer had their bodycams on at the time of the shooting, even though they are definitely supposed to.   So while it’s unfortunate this happened to this seemingly law abiding woman – I say seemingly because the media hasn’t reported on the investigation into her background, which I am sure is coming – that’s not what had me all Baldwin this morning.  While rousing from my slumber, my ever present tv emitted the sounds from a press conference held in response to this event. Minnesota Police Chief Janee Harteau took to the podium to address the media and I jolted straight up when she said: “This did not have to happen.  Justine did not have to die.” I’ve NEVER in my <redacted> years on Earth, have heard a police chief say that a black victim of murder by cop did not have to die.  Never.  Not once.  I hear of their mental illness.  I hear of their criminal past acts.  I hear of their incarceration. I see the worst pictures of them featured in news reports.  I hear how they should have complied and just listened.  I hear they had guns, although I never see them produced.  I hear how the officer was scared.  I never hear how they did not have to die.  Ever. Chief Harteau is right, you know?  Justine did not have to die……. but neither did Sandra…. …or Eric …or Charleena …or Alton …or Freddie …or Rekia …or Laquan …or Tamir …or Korryn …or Michael …or Philando  …or the ones we march for, whose names disappear from the media, but not from our hearts and souls.   I stay in a rage for them.  

MySAYalogy

Myalogy, First of Her Name, House of Nope

/

Inevitably, Myalogists, that which I love will always make a fool of me.  A couple of posts ago I wrote about my love of HBO and how they were loving on black women – just a passing them out shows left and write — HEY! I typed that accidentally, but it fits!  Write is Right!  Ahem….Anyway….to make a long story short, HBO done made a fool of me. Right on the heels of the show that is inexplicably (to me) roundly adored, Game of Thrones, the creative team of David Benioff and D.B. Weiss have decided on the next blockbuster show to bring to HBO….and I know A LOT of you will love it!  Why?  How do I know?  Well just listen up!  The next show is called Confederate, and it is set in an alternate reality where the South won the right to secede from the Union and maintain slavery!  Funners!  See the official press release below.     Executives of a Slave-Holding Conglomerate?! You know who I blame for this fuckshit?  YOU.  Maybe not you.  But definitely you.  The one that utters the following trite phrases: This story needs to be told! This is a must see!  Yeah…y’all love that slave shit.  Every time one of these movies drops, people support the hell out of it.  Me?  Hell to the Nawl. Nope.  12 Years a Nope.  Birth of a Nope. Nopederground.  I’m not here for it.  When it comes to the brutal reality of our history in this country, those that know, know.  Those that don’t, don’t care to know.  To have our misery splayed across the screen weekly for years? NOPE. Benioff and Weiss are banking on a the idea I learned from another HBO show, The Sopranos: no one ever went broke underestimating the taste/intelligence of the American Public. And as history has shown, the team behind Game of Thrones will likely soon have another hit on their hands. Me?  I’m waiting patiently for this to (hopefully) make it to the airwaves:     If you haven’t heard of Forty Acres, do yourself a favor and buy it here.  It’s a slave story, but not the one you think.   UPDATE!!!!   The first page of the script has just appeared on the internet and its EVERYTHING you knew it would be. fin.

MySAYalogy

White is Wrong, Til We Are

/

TRIGGER WARNING:  If you are stupid, ur gonna be offended. Them Kardashian’s and they black-girl-build-a-bodies. Miley trying to twerk. Black women been twerking for years. Boxer Braids?  Them is cornrows. They wanna be us so bad.   Hugh Hefner did it.  Why they coming after Bill?   Hugh Hefner did it.  Why they coming after Kelz?   That last one is a CLASSIC MORONIC STATEMENT. You probably should have used Jerry Lee Lewis for a more apropos comparison, but no one made any memes bout him, so you probs aint know he married his teenaged cousin.  Be mad. And then some clueless muthafucka tried to bring our recently dearly departed Purple One into it.  Habitual. Line. Crossers. SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH AND WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSAH AND WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH AND SOOOOOOOOOOOOOSAH. Yesterday was one of those days when my body is a literal ball of flames.  Everyone’s favorite pedophile was accused of crimes OTHER THAN THE ONE WE ALL HAVE SEEN.  The Pied Piper of young girls was accused of running some sort of strange sex cult.  Great. Fine.  Whatever.  Sad, but everyone is of legal age this time.  Being from Chicago, we all know what dude is, there is literally NOTHING he would do that would surprise me.  But yesterday black people participated in one of their favorite pastimes:  THE COMPARISON GAMES.  C’mon, you know The Comparison Games:  when someone of color does something untoward, the black populace must find a white person’s crimes to equalize the shit.  Why do we do this?  Any other time they are wypipo; the others; devils; the sunken place overlords; 25/20s; crackas; them….but the MINUTE it goes down, the small-thinking person’s battle cry become: THEY DID IT TOO!!!!! Great.  They were crawling around in caves while we were studying in universities.  When it was discovered that we held the cells that would be the foundation of so many medical breakthroughs, they were forming lynch mobs to snuff out our greatness.  So why, kings and queens, can’t you see bad behavior, acknowledge it for what it is and hold ourselves in higher esteem than the people we choose to look down on so often.  Fuck respectability, what about accountability? I was an early supporter and almost employee of former Chicago Mayoral and US Presidential candidate Willie Wilson.  I’ve written about my disappointment in the way he ran his campaign in this very space.  One thing you won’t find in that article is me tearing him to shreds over the way he speaks.  But many of you – the same people that ran to the defense of a rapist – did.  I guess if he made stepping music, we “as a people” (the most barftastic phrase in history) would have been more forgiving of his shortcomings. On Thursday mornings, I contribute a Myalogy segment to The Maze Jackson Morning Show on WVON.  The day I caught the most flack was the day I suggested Bill Cosby wasn’t 100% innocent.  The day I suggested he wasn’t about to buy NBC, a verifiable fact.  The day I suggested that this wasn’t a plot to bring the black man down.  Oh, the things my “brothers and sistas” called me.   The mere suggestion that a black person did something bad brought out the lynch mob, who proudly participated in The COMPARISON GAMES: Emotional Response Edition.  This man went on a speaking tour telling you how fucked up you and your parents are and black folks surrounded him with so much love, because him and his fictional children lined up on their staircase and lip synced “Night and Day.” FOH. I will give you this small allowance:  this is where the Hugh Hefner comparison makes sense. You all are the same people that ain’t speaking to your Uncle James over a $5 bid whist bet, but you rally around a man you saw rape and defile a young black woman, her ability to ride the dick and get peed on without flinching notwithstanding. I think you should know tho….R.Kelly don’t give a damn about you.  While you caping and riding and riding and caping, this man legit made a video telling you how you don’t support him.  YALL, who don’t give one fuck he is a rapist, who continued to buy that tired ass music well after its expiration date, who watched him say he don’t know who Dave Chappelle is and then showed up wearing a Dave Chappelle t-shirt…yall don’t support him. He snapped on y’all in that video that has since been removed. He felt that way because of the disappointing sales of his last tired assed effort The Buffet.  Y’all will support his bullfuckery, just not his music and that’s some funny shit.  Funny because you are the people that implore us to separate the art from the artist, but when it comes to Kelz, y’all ain’t even supporting the art no more, so what are we really doing here? Yall may not want a seat at The Buffet, but the internet showed yesterday, he is welcomed to eat at your crib any time.  Just make sure your girlchildren ain’t home. Never mind, they are young black girls…you don’t care anyway.

Scroll to Top