It Gets Better...When You're Rich and/or Famous

Note: I was so concerned about the rapture on May 21, that I failed to post last Monday. Now I realize that when they said "rapture" all they really meant was that Oprah was ending her show and Chicago's mayor is no longer named Daley. You can totally interpret such events as the end of the world. Anyway, I finished what should have been last week's blog and posted it here.)

True story: Although the maternal side of my family knew, I didn't tell my biological father that I was gay until (quite literally) the day of my sister's wedding nearly year ago, just before he was about to walk her down the aisle.  What began as an incredibly awkward moment involving me in draga dress and makeup and weird conversation before the wedding, resulted in an embrace and my father's loving (for him) utterance of "We deuces," to let me know that we were still cool by the time we were taking post-nuptial photos; he even took the time to tell my girlfriend she was welcome to visit anytime.  It was a tremendous relief.  Sure, I probably should have done it much sooner, but procrastination is a tough drug to kick.  Besides, I had never hidden anything from my dad or ever talked to him about relationships, so the idea of me sitting him down and telling him that he could add dating women to the list of things he and I had in common seemed really forced and inauthentic.  Although it has always felt as if coming out was a ritual reserved for privileged white folks and Logo series, once I figured out that my dad inquiring, "So you cut your hair again, hunh?" wasn't a euphemism for "Are you gay?"  I knew I had to say something.

Mistaken Identity

So last week, the black blogosphere was ablaze about Fox News' objection to rapper, Common's appearance at the White House for an evening of poetry.  (I blame spoken word's roach-like ability to last so long on something incredibly jacked up I must have done in a former life.)  Calling the "controversial" rapper "vile," the right wing's media arm made the hip-hop heads, et. al. go ballistic.  They tweeted and blogged about the lunacy of such charges, in the process proving that Fox News is more out of touch than an AT&T cell subscriber not standing next to a tower.  Although Common performed anyway, and most of the Negro section of the internet has seemed to move on, I'm taking up the issue now, not because I can't believe the folks at the White House thought it was a good idea to invite Common to recite anything, but because I can't really be all that mad at Fox News.  After all, aren't people often inaccurately describing Common?  I'd like to take this blip on the pop culture radar to reiterate the fact that if one can glean any significance from Common's appearance at the White House, it's that he's exactly who some of his longest and most strident fans seem to forget he is: that is, a "conscious" rapper who finds the revolution--and its purveyors-- suitable for nothing but sampling and/or cameos.  Though ostensibly harmless and hardly who Fox thinks he is, Common has been confusing folks for the bulk of his career.  How mad can we be with Fox News for this latest flub?

Proof: What is a Picture Worth?

Although I'd like to put Dead Prez on blast--like I planned on doing last week--I think it would be most appropriate to follow up last week's post.  I can't believe I'm about to force my fingers to type the following sentence, but here goes: I agree with the Obama Administration's decision not to publish the photos of Osama Bin Laden. 

One moment, please.  I feel a little dirty.

Death Certificate

I had planned to write a mini-diatribe about why I did not at all enjoy the Dead Prez' song and video "The Beauty Within" (a "response" to Bruno Mars' "Nothing on You") that was released late last week.  However, I've decided to abandon a hate-filled monologue on something asinine, and be a more mindful blogger by saying a word or two about what happened last night.  I'll save that hate for next week.