See, this is why Barack doesn't do it for me ...I can't sell my soul for the promise of better days to come.

I can not settle it within myself to wholeheartedly stand behind anyone who can only advocate for 'civil unions'.

Civil union - a legally recognized institution that serves to provide same sex couples with rights, benefits, and responsibilities SIMILAR to that of heterosexual marriage.

That is not ...and never will be progress and / or 'change we can believe in'. I'll believe change when I see it ...and right now, I don't see a damned thing. It's the same old line, different salesman (or woman) every time. Until we as a people can understand that simply by virtue of the fact that we all live, breathe and bleed the same way, and WE ARE ENTITLED to ALL rights, protections and opportunities afforded to everyone else, i.e. heterosexuals (yeah, its pretty much us vs. them) ...we will continue to fall short of hitting the equality mark for real.

As it is a civil rights issue, I will in some instances compare it to the Civil Rights Movement and say that it is the equivalent of saying ....'Well you don't have to sit in the back of the bus anymore ...you can sit next to me, in the middle.'
Don't blow smoke up my ass because that shit isn't good enough.



I am not a card carrying rider of the Gore train but I will say this, above all others ...he'd have my vote.



We need someone to have balls big enough to say ...'they deserve to be treated fairly. With the same respect that I would want for myself.' Period.

Fuck the white and Black Christian vote. Fuck the people that think their shit don't stink and that having affairs, molesting children, abusing federal money, and taking trips in and out of rehab for 5 minutes at a time cures you, etc. ...is better than being a dyke / faggot.
...but that won't win you an election.

Again, Obama knew what he had to do.

And what other options do 'we' have? Who do we stand a better chance with ...someone who refuses to recognize our humanity in the same capacity as their own ...or someone who is willing to throw 3/4 of the bone our way?

All I'm saying is we shouldn't have to settle for less.
Think about where we would be with regard to the Civil Rights Movement if we said 'Ok, we'll take the middle of the bus. Ok, y'all can go to school Monday through Friday ...we'll take Saturday and Sunday. No, I don't need affirmative action ...I'll dig myself out the of never ending hole of disparity based on hundreds and hundreds of years of racial inequality that was forced upon us. Fuck it ...y'all got it and we'll take whatever we can get.'

Granted it would be one small, small step in the right direction but damn, ...that shit makes me ill.
Bitch assed catch 22.

One to add to your respective blogroll's: Gorgeous Black Women

I came across this today ...and loved it, to say the least.
...so many beautiful BLACK women all in one place ...I can't take it.

Gorgeous Black Women

I know I plan to check in daily.
Please, please, please do the same.

I've reposted their initial post below.

Why I started this blog
1. Positive portrayals of gorgeous black women in the media are limited. It's Jezebel or Mammy. These two stereotypes are far from the norm.
2. Black women are indeed gorgeous, whether you're 18 or 80 with espresso bean or honey colored skin, skinny mini or curvaceous body, no hair, short hair, long hair, fros, twists, locs or straightened. This blog will feature everyone.
3. Who doesn't love gorgeous women?
4. There needs to be a shift in how black girls and women perceive themselves and their looks. Bonus points if everyone else gets with the program.

We hold these truths to be self evident: Other declarations...

Today marks the 22nd observance of the federal holiday designed to commemorate Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday. Signed into law by Ronald Regan in 1983, it was observed for the first time on January 20th, 1986. It wasn't until 2000 that Martin Luther King Day was officially observed in all 50 states.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

January 15th, 1929 - April 4th, 1968

"Don't let anybody make you think God chose America as his divine messianic force to be a sort of policeman of the whole world. God has a way of standing before the nations with justice and it seems I can hear God saying to America, 'You are too arrogant, and if you don't change your ways, I will rise up and break the backbone of your power, and I will place it in the hands of a nation that doesn't even know my name.'" - MLK

Another quotable: "Many of the ugly pages of American history have been obscured and forgotten. A society is always eager to cover misdeeds with a cloak of forgetfulness, but no society can fully repress an ugly past when the ravages persist into the present. America owes a debt of justice which it has only begun to pay. If it loses the will to finish or slackens in its determination, history will recall its crimes and the country that would be great will lack the most element of greatness — justice." - MLK

The Politics of Self Identification

I do not find solace in being ‘safe’.
It’s actually an experience quite the opposite for me; unnerving to say the least.
Repressive. Confining. Fictitious.


I don’t enjoy passing by virtue of my inherently feminine nature.
I can not wear my sexuality on my sleeve in the same manner that some of my more masculine female, feminine male, androgynous and everything in between ** thereby ‘presumably obvious’ ** counterparts do. For that I am, I don’t know …sorry.
Sorry in that I often wish I could wear my love for queer / gay / lesbian / SGL women, F2Ms, transgenders and transvariants as if it were my smile.

Jealous too.
Jealous in that I often feel relegated to putting forth extra effort to proclaim my existence. Whether it be verbal, written, on a t-shirt or otherwise I hate having to inform the masses.



Sexuality, sexual preference and gender identity shouldn’t be presumed.
…don’t I sound delusional, lol?



I do enjoy defying perceptions though.
The furrowed brows, gasps, embarrassment and looks of disdain.
I enjoy being the ‘other’. A disruption of the heteronormative flow.
It makes my blood rush.

I hate the questions though. I loathe them.

‘But why?’

…I’m sorry, what is it that you don’t understand?

More often than not I get that from heterosexual men; baffled by the thought that I’m not interested in all they have to offer me.



I am a femme.
I adore hair / nail salons, false lashes, 4” heels, purse shopping and makeup.

black nationalist. black feminist. non conformist. queer.

I don’t care to identify though a label, even one that is self imposed, but I am often left feeling like I have no other choice.



I went to the supermarket tonight and among other things, the male cashier called me ‘Ma’ more times than I could count. His voice was markedly different with me than with the customer before …dropped an octave or so lower. His eye lids seemed heavier ...bedroom I'm guessing.
His juvenile attempts at flirting.

I didn’t have the energy to set him straight but I didn’t entertain him either…no smile, eye contact. Nothing.
I’m sure he had a few choice words for me when he realized I was blatantly ignoring him.

I paid and left.


…but I passed.
I was angry with myself afterward.

Beloved

"Here in this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you!"

"... This is flesh I'm talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. And the beat, beat, of your heart... Love it. More than the lungs that need yet to breathe free air. More than the womb, which holds life. More than the private parts that give life. Love your heart. This... this is the prize. Amen. This the prize... Amen!"

"Let the children come. And let your mothers hear you laugh."
-Beah Richards as 'Baby Suggs' in Beloved

I can only hope the dialogue is somewhat close to that of the film as would hate to do a disservice to what I believe is one of its most powerful scenes. Seeing as how it was taken from the internet and much to my dismay, I can not recall it verbatim, I will have to rely on the help of others.

I consider myself an avid movie watcher. I even have the heavily used netflix.com subscription to prove it. Foreign and subtitled, drama, horror, documentary, 'stupid comedy' and most everything in between ...at some point, I've watched them all.

There are very few movies able to evoke tears or any other visceral reaction beyond an initial viewing, if even at all. Most that do usually have something to do with race, gender or sexuality; issues to which I am inextricably bound. Rosewood, The Women of Brewster Place **Shut up!!! I love that movie** and The Color Purple being prime examples as I cry every time I watch them. Another came to mind today and I was glad.

Beloved, the film, didn't necessarily do well. It only made a total of $28,000,000 whereas the novel won a Pulitzer Prize and although loosely based on the life of Margaret 'Peggy' Garner, is, according to a survey of 125 'eminent authors and critics' by The New York Times, considered the best work of american fiction in the past 25 years. See the 1987 review here.
Toni Morrison's irrefutable brilliance aside as I am dealing with performance not word, Beah Richards is absolutely breathtaking in this scene.
I kissed my own hands.

Also, if you haven't already seen it, I implore you to watch Beah: A Black Woman Speaks at some point in the near future. Directed by Lisa Gaye Hamilton, it's an award winning documentary birthed from over 70 hours of taped conversation on Beah Richards life and career.

bless

Fuck the vote!!!

I sat on this for a few days ...wondering about the implications and really mulling it over. It's been difficult to reconcile within myself, to say the least.

As a nationalist, I'd love to see a black man in office. Yeah, I'm a feminist ...a Black feminist and I know Hillary will never be given a pass. EVER.
That aside ...I'm queer and this coming election means more with regard to my fundamental rights as such.



In short, Fuck Barack Obama!!!!!



Taking Donnie 'ex-gay' McClurkin, Hezekiah Walker and Mary Mary on the road was not the way to go you fucking dummy.
...AND a lame ass attempt at damage control via a statement with respect to you not sharing his same views and toting the token gay ***but white*** Rev. Andy Sidden means nothing, particularly when homophobia in the Black community is the issue AND you could have taken Michael Eric Dyson and /or 2 gay pastors with you on your concert series to attempt to bridge the gap.

Can't fault your hustle game though.
You knew what you had to do to win over the Black south.

Asshole.

Happy National Coming Out Day!!!

Be Proud.