1,067 Days
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Black Panther; Everything I Expected
If you sat around all weekend saying “what’s the big deal?” or drawing Straw Man arguments about Blade, Spawn, Catwoman (lmao) , or whatever other black comic superhero you could pull out of your ass then you either just don’t get it or were a huge part of the problem in general. Black Panther was everything! The images were beautiful, the costumes were wonderful (and apparently contained coded messages themselves), the casting was par excellence, and the action was beyond engrossing. But see the above-displayed image I cribbed from a buddy’s FB with her permission… Black boys got to see people who looked like them as warriors and strong royal family members. Black girls got to see themselves represented as an even STRONGER group of warriors and not harlots. The young lady above took her daughter to the movie and the first thing she said was “look mommy, they have hair like mine!” Representation is SUPER important, the power of seeing yourself in something po
"Buddy"
Everyone is my buddy… Well, almost everyone is. My nephews are my buddies. YOUR nephews are my buddies. Little kids in public spaces are my buddies. Little kids in public spaces who behave like incorrigible little shits? Still my buddies. Big dogs are my buddies. Little dogs are my buddies. Old men playing chess at McDonalds at 11am are my buddies. My own granddaddy was my Buddy, and everyone called him just that. My own dog responds to “Buddy” as much as he does “Bruiser.” The last thing I say leaving my house every morning is “bye Buddy, see ya later” and his response is as priceless now at 8 years as it was when he was 8 weeks old. I randomly high-five 3 year olds in Wal Mart who elatedly grin when they hear a large black man smile and say “high five, lil buddy!” Parents love it too. I guess you could say I use the word “buddy” a lot with the people I come into contact with. And I am okay with that.
True Story©... Old Habits Die Hard
Broke… Bored… A little angry at the world in general because shit ain’t quite working out to be just what I feel like it should be. All I can do is work toward making what I want of the world, I guess. Luckily for me I glean entertainment from the world around me most of the time and I have a network of people who are full-on invited to GET mad at me, but none of them can really STAY mad at me. That said, I got a phone call… Me: “Hello?” Caller: “Phlip--… Wait, before you hang up on me man. You Still mad at me?” Me: “Why the shit would I be mad at you, Marlon?” Marlon: “Well… You went to pretty extreme lengths to get me back for that dough I costyou last time we spoke.” Me: “Well… I guess for that I could see myself still mad. BUT! I think I have exacted the lesson you needed to learn.” Marlon: “Cool, because I kinda missed coolin’ out and shit.” Me: “Whoa, Marls… You been in prison or something? I ain’t living like that. I am pretty much marrie