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Showing posts with label Racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Racism. Show all posts
Monday, August 12, 2013
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Friday, July 05, 2013
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Quotable: Author Denene Millner on Paula "Mad Butter" Deen
New York Times bestselling author Denene Millner, creator of the MyBrownbaby.com parenting website, wrote on cocoafab.com that she wasn’t surprised by Deen’s revelations.
“This is a 66-year-old woman from the South, born close enough to segregation to see the whites of Jim Crow’s eyes,” Millner wrote. “I’ll bet she knows how rank he smells—that rancid, putrid bouquet that escapes when the word “nigger” curls off the tongue. I’m betting, too, that she knows how scary he looks on a dark country road on a hot Southern summer’s night. Or in an equally hot kitchen where Negroes toil.”
“I’m not saying this is the way of every 66-year-old white woman from the South,” Millner concluded. “But I’ve been living in the South for almost a decade, and I’ve got enough honest, good white friends down here who’ve told me in confidence that their grandfathers and daddies and uncles still have white sheets hanging in their closets—not the kind for beds, but the ones rocked with pride in front of burning crosses. Racist behavior lingers—dances all up and through the DNA.”
Sunday, June 23, 2013
A Confession
I still have no clue who Justin Bieber is or how he gained his fame. So as a woman who was born in the 70s and grew-up during the 80s pop culture scene of BET and MTV, I am (at this moment) trying to invest FIVE MINUTES into researching this guy. My main goal is to listen to ONE song. But even as I type this, I feel my interest waning (seriously. my illness has given my once-focused mind ADD.).
I am now starring at my screen, contemplating my: "Chocolate is proof that God wants us to be happy" mug.
I now realize that chocolate as a skin tone is what I hope this mug is referring to.
Starring at the mug.
Thinking of Paula Deen's innate ability to say "nigger."
Hearing footsteps on this Sunday morning.
Sounds as if my mom is getting ready for church.
African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church.
Reminder as to why chocolate people had to establish churches for themselves.
Avoiding going to powder my nose because my illness is affecting my knees and I can barely convince them to bend. And when they do bend (on their own will and time), the pain is fierce; and afterward, I am unable to get them to straighten out to stand.
My legs hate me.
Racist legs.
Restless legs.
The onset was acute and sudden.
Overnight.
Rheumatologist visit.
X-rays taken.
Physical therapy ordered.
Wait...
I am now starring at my screen, contemplating my: "Chocolate is proof that God wants us to be happy" mug.
I now realize that chocolate as a skin tone is what I hope this mug is referring to.
Starring at the mug.
Thinking of Paula Deen's innate ability to say "nigger."
Hearing footsteps on this Sunday morning.
Sounds as if my mom is getting ready for church.
African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church.
Reminder as to why chocolate people had to establish churches for themselves.
Avoiding going to powder my nose because my illness is affecting my knees and I can barely convince them to bend. And when they do bend (on their own will and time), the pain is fierce; and afterward, I am unable to get them to straighten out to stand.
My legs hate me.
Racist legs.
Restless legs.
The onset was acute and sudden.
Overnight.
Rheumatologist visit.
X-rays taken.
Physical therapy ordered.
Wait...
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Ranted Ramblings on Disco Piss
The hamster is hiding in one of her loops. I haven't known her long, but so far she seems to go there when Sir and I have frustrated the shit out of her. I mean, I have good reason. If she'd just stop shitting and pissing in her wheel then I could spend less money and time poking at her and trying to potty train a thing that likes to piss, shit and run as a bathroom break.
And then my POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) symptoms have arrived right on schedule to remind me why I hate spring and friggin' summer, I am bedridden and my world is like an spinning disco ball with hints of some hallucinogenic hippie drug that makes spinning in circles after a long day AND night of drinking look like its bitch--I am up at 2:30 in the morning feeling hungover without the prerequisite of partying and drinking.
Did I mention that racism is rampant?
And then my POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) symptoms have arrived right on schedule to remind me why I hate spring and friggin' summer, I am bedridden and my world is like an spinning disco ball with hints of some hallucinogenic hippie drug that makes spinning in circles after a long day AND night of drinking look like its bitch--I am up at 2:30 in the morning feeling hungover without the prerequisite of partying and drinking.
Did I mention that racism is rampant?
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Monday, November 28, 2011
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