Post Your Drafts Day

I've decided to start a new holiday.
Every four years, on Leap Day, you shall posts the drafts of your choice.
I'm calling it Post Your Drafts Day, obviously.
To commence our newest celebration, allow me to post a few of the blog ideas that never saw the light of day due to timing or laziness or just general terribleness.

2015
Feminism from a Gay: Orgasm
Having recently gained an interest in the opposite sex and what they go through, I was going to share what I learned about women's orgasms. Despite half my readership already knowing about their own bodies, I scrapped this idea because the thought of creating a series called "Feminism from a Gay" seemed like a form of mansplaining, and I just couldn't be a part of that unfortunate phenomenon.

Why (I Think) I'm Single
This turned more into a diary post about my friends' relationship and how I didn't feel like I could measure up to them. Maybe someday I'll share it with them. Probably not.

Late Reviews
I had an idea to review new television shows episodes, even seasons, after they premiered. My aim was to share my "fine" taste. While I still like this idea, I procrastinated on a theme that was about being late. I waited so long that one of the shows I planned to spotlight was cancelled and inspired my most recent listicle. [Shows that are still running: Fresh Off the Boat, Man Seeking Woman, Empire]

Golden Globes 2015
I planned to talk about the mention of Je Suis Charlie and the related attacks at the award show but no mention of Ferguson or racial tension in our own country. Much like the planned post of race, rape, and global warming at last night's Oscars, I didn't know how to phrase it in a way that didn't frustrate or overwhelm me every five minutes. So I dropped it. But thank you to Lady Gaga, Joe Biden, Leonardo DiCaprio, Chris Rock, and the other presenters and winners that brought important issues to light last night.

2014
The Stigma of Uncut
Inspired by a certain friend and a gay youtuber, I was going to talk about penises. Someday I might actually talk about cut vs uncut phalli, as it's still a social topic I overhear. Maybe I could get a guest to write about different kinds of vaginas as a sister-post.

White Men: the Most Jealous of Us All
I only saved this as a title, but I think I meant to explore the theory that straight, white men are jealous of everything they don't have and either wish to obtain or destroy. Obviously not true of all white men, but without sufficient evidence and examples, I didn't feel like bringing on the wrath of the "master class." Someday I delve back into this topic.

I Wanna Be Caribbean
A post about how I was jealous of my Caribbean friends for having accents, cool food, and - most importantly - a history. At the time I couldn't think of how to write this without sound whiny and unappreciative of my own blackness. Guess black people are jealous of what they don't have, too.

2013
Wild Rumpusing in Ireland
This was supposed to be a week long series recounting my journey through the southern half of Ireland with my sister. All the plot points were organized into outlines. All I had to do was flush them out. But it took me about 6 hours to write the first two installments. I decided the work wasn't worth the pay out and let the remaining four post hang in limbo. Now I wish I had finished them, if even just for me. Then again, I'm my own worst critic, so reading them would have been a daunting task.

Story Time: The Easter Miracle
I planned to recant a dream I had the night before Easter when my deceased father visited me in a dream. It hadn't even been four month yet, and I decided I wasn't ready to deal with my emotions, let alone share them with everyone.

2012
101 Tasks in 1001 Days
I didn't report on every task upon completion. Some I didn't deem worthy, like 14) Buy a Mac. Some couldn't be measured accurately, like 94) Follow the next presidential election. Overall, laziness and fatigue got the best of me. That reminds me to start cracking on the 102 Tasks...

Fall of the Bisexual
I was going to discuss Frank Ocean, bisexual "culture," and why people don't believe in bisexuals. I want to say I never wrote this one because I couldn't decide on my stance about bisexuality. Of course, now I can support my bisexual, pansexual, transgender, and everything in between brethren. Thank you, Tumblr.

Discovering Race
A series in which I would tell how I discovered each race, how I reacted to them, and what I learned from them. I cancelled this series after the first installment out of fear I would have said something out of line or offensive. For my future employment, I think that was the right move.


Welp... those are the posts that will never see the light of day. Hope this was as fun for you as it was for me.

Word.

Local Elections: Baby's First Mayoral Forum

Last night, I watched my first mayoral forum. As an actual adult - not three kids stack on each other's shoulders in a trench coat - it's my duty to stay informed and vote for the betterment of my community. Baltimore is the first city I chose to inhabit; I have to help improve it somehow.

I won't bore you with each candidates' platforms. There were more than ten of them, and I realized at the two hour mark that I've should have been taking notes the whole time. Luckily, most of the candidates have websites with detailed plans that I will be visiting later. However, since I didn't have anyone to livetweet the event with, here are some highlights in case you missed it.

After dealing with shitty internet blackouts from the only supplier in my neighborhood [*cough* Comcast *cough*] I can only assume was brought on my the torrential downpour last night, I was able to tune into the livestream of the mayoral forum on Youtube. Apparently forums aren't important enough to even televise on Public Access. They also aren't important enough to be held in City Hall as the candidates for mayor and their supporters gathered in a local church.

The forum started with a prominent young girl reading her proposed budget for the city after winning a contest. The crowd enjoyed the little future-mayoral candidate's enthusiasm. Once she finished, each candidate was given 60 seconds to introduce themselves. It should hereby be noted that a church tambourine was used to signify when time was up.

Candidates from all parties were in attendance: Democratic, Republican, and Green. Apparently, Republican candidates have a hard time becoming mayor of Baltimore - or even running - as the sole old, white Republican man consistently thanked the crowd for inviting the party to the debate and hoped they would pick him as the Republican candidate. Though there were two black men also in his party, he reminded me the most of an elephant.

During the question and answer portion, the forum showed me Parks and Rec was not far off in its depiction of local politics. Though mostly cordial and informative, the candidates occasionally picked fights with each other during their allotted 90 seconds of response time; the crowd laughed much like a studio audience would.

Standout moments:

• Dem. Sheila Dixon commented that 90 seconds was not enough time to properly answer a question as she was tambourine'd to place the microphone back on its stand. The man that followed her immediately dismissed her saying everyone had 90 seconds. The crowd lost it.
• Dem. Sheila Dixon also clutched her binder for the better part of the evening. For some reason, I deeply appreciated this. Perhaps it called back the humor that was "Binders Full of Women" years ago.
• Dem. Catherine Pugh and Dem. Carl Stokes displayed professionalism and cited their experience and Baltimore politics that clued me in as to why they're the early frontrunners and therefore have the most support in the form of front yard banners across the city.
• Dem. Elizabeth Embry - the sole white woman on stage - impressed me with how "woke" she seemed to be, forcing me to make a mental note to check her out later.
• Dem. DeRay McKesson - one of the leading voices of the Black Lives Matter movement - didn't fail to appear in his trademark blue vest, nor did he neglect to separate himself by saying he wasn't running behind a slogan, but a solid platform.
• Dem. DeRay McKesson, as expected, talked about police reform and how police lied about threats from gangs during the recent riot and the following events. He was then rebutted by police officer Dem. Gersham Cupid, saying he received threats himself. It was then that I decided upon a slogan for McKesson: A man in blue you can trust in.

I'd be lying if I said DeRay McKesson wasn't the deciding factor on my interest in local politics. He was a name I recognized and wanted to hear out. Thanks to him, I now have several candidates to read up on. Stay tuned for my review of the second and last mayoral forum before the election. I promise 100% more facts. Because facts matter.

Remember to exercise your right to stay informed and vote in the coming local and national elections in a city near you!

Word

Listicles: Cancelled Shows for Your Consideration

Most of us are familiar with listicles: articles in the form of a list that writers use to help better your life or as clickbait for their websites. What I need to know is why no rapper or singer has rhymed it with testicles in a song yet? People need to step up their game.

I'm no stranger to them myself. This blog used to have a feature called Top 10 Ways. Consider this the test run of its second season. Or maybe I'm just trying to get Buzzfeed's attention. More than one thing can be true, you know.

I'm not saying I'm the king of hipster viewing choices, but all of my friends get upset with me for introducing them to television shows that are cancelled before their time. Allow me to tell you about some of my favorites.

Freaks and Geeks

How Many Seasons: 1
Where to Binge It: Netflix
Original Network: FOX
Premise:
Two siblings try to navigate high school in the early 1980s in the Midwest.
Why Should You Binge It:
Freaks and Geeks is proof that just because a show is ahead of its time doesn't mean it'll never be appreciated. Though it failed, this show introduced us to the mind of Judd Apatow as well as the talents of James Franco, Seth Rogen, Busy Phillips, Jason Segel, and many more. The plot still holds up as well, especially a party episode that features the placebo effect.

Sirens

How Many Seasons: 2
Where to Binge It: Netflix
Original Network: USA
Premise:
Three paramedics trade jokes inside of an ambulance while answering bizarre 911 calls around Chicago.
Why Should You Binge It:
Besides the main character slightly reminding me of a friend, the show features a gay black paramedic in the second billed role and a Hispanic cop with some of the best simple-minded one liners. Much of the comedy of the show is delivered through conversations that pass the time or non-sequiturs. Though these conversations occasionally go on longer than they should - and is probably one of the reasons for its cancellation - they give the show charm and stays true to real life.


Community
How Many Seasons: 6
Where to Binge It: Hulu/Yahoo
Original Network: NBC
Premise:
Seven students of varying ages and backgrounds become a study group in one of the most off-kilter community schools in the country.
Why Should You Binge It:
Granted Community eventually reached the six seasons of their ever popular mantra, they did so only through the grace of internet petitions and devoted fandoms. NBC cancelled the show three times, fired creator and showrunner Dan Harmon, and treated the show like a redheaded stepchild in terms of scheduling. But through that, Joel McHale, Donald Glover, Yvette Nicole Brown, and the rest of the cast continued to deliver hilarious performances. The show itself is self-aware thanks to the character Abed Nadir, a skinny nerd with possible Aspergers. With 7-8 main characters and a whole campus of B- and C-characters, Community is always willing to explore different relationships while parodying anything from Doctor Who to SVU.


Young Justice
How Many Seasons: 2
Where to Binge It: Netflix
Original Network: Cartoon Network
Premise:
Set in a DC Animated Universe that doesn't feature the Teen Titans, three sidekicks come together to form a new young superhero team.
Why Should You Binge It:
If you loved Teen Titans but wished there was a darker, more Batman the Animated Series version, this is the show for you. Even if your unfamiliar with a few of the characters, you'll fall in love with them soon enough. The episodes have more of a story arc to them, so you'll be engrossed. Like many cancelled cartoons, though, season 2 ends on a cliffhanger. Luckily, if the shows streams well on Netflix, it may be picked up for a third season. Help me make that happen!


United States of Tara
How Many Seasons: 3
Where to Binge It: Netflix
Original Network: Showtime
Premise:
A woman suffering from multiple personality disorder must navigate life as her family puts up with her "alters."
Why Should You Binge It:
Brie Larson play Tara's teenage daughter and at one point becomes involved in the world of online fetishism. Tara herself is the most interesting character, obviously, starting out with hyper-active teenager, 50's housewife, and trucker personalities or "alters." Slowly but surely, something traumatic happens to her to force another alter to emerge and make her life more complicated. Luckily, the show knew it could be cancelled at anytime and wrapped up each season with a satisfying-enough outcome.

Happy Endings
How Many Seasons: 3
Where to Binge It: Hulu
Original Network: ABC
Premise:
A woman leaves her husband-to-be at the alter, leaving their friends figuring out a way to keep the gang together.
Why Should You Binge It:
Let's breakdown the cast of the otherwise typical Friends-esque sitcom: Dave, the Ross-character and therefore the worst in every way, but you put up with him anyway; Alex, the runaway bride that loses IQ points as the seasons develop, similar to Eric of Boy Meets World; Jane, Alex's order Type-A, control freak sister who needs to assert her dominance; Brad, Jane's husband, businessman, and coolest black man you'll ever meet because he gives no fucks and isn't afraid to twirl; Penny, the ever-single and ever-dating friend who's more relatable than you care to admit; and Max, the stereotype-defying gay guy who's ever-unemployed but somehow still manages to live in Chicago.
The dynamic these six share is unlike anything you'd find on television. The banter and jokes are out of this world. They aren't afraid to overuse references or take all episode to setup an epic line. If you're not laughing out loud while watching this show, you're probably a New Girl fan and the reason why this wonderful show was cancelled. Shame on you! Hopefully, the talks of a reunion come true so that this bitterness in my heart fades away.

What are some of your favorite cancelled television shows? Let me know in the comments below.

Word

I Want to Read Again

I've always been more of a writer than a reader. Call it my everlasting yearn to be more of a creator than a consumer. Ignore my seemingly never-ending consumption of television, music, and food; we all have our journeys in life. But if I find no problem making time for these enjoyments, why don't I read more? Do I loathe books? No, of course not. I want to write books and have everyone discuss my complex character developments and plot twists.

Perhaps it's an ego problem, then. I do recall a younger, cockier version of myself insisting that the more I allowed established authors to poison my mind, the more likely my chances of unintentionally copying someone and losing my individuality would become. Of course, I've learned the error of my ways thanks to my love/hate relationship with a few college courses.

Required reading be damned, after I graduated, I dedicated myself to rekindling my love of novels that inspired my love for storytelling from a young age. I purchased a short stack of books, posted a picture of them on instagram to hold myself accountable, and attempted to comprehend a book a week. For three weeks, this plan worked. I digested novels that weren't daunting. I set midweek goals. I returned to Instagram to update my progress. All was well.... until I attempted to defeat Infinite Jest.

In the spirit of my college's senior seminar, a book a week! ...maybe Great Gatsby and Infinite Jest combined for a 2 week span. #newyearsresolution #novelinspiration #bookclubmaybe

A photo posted by Charles G Clark (@cgwacko) on Jan 20, 2014 at 1:09pm PST

Infinite Jest - if you don't know - is an 1,079 page book. [I read Chesapeake in high school; this should have been a breeze.] What it's about, I honestly couldn't tell you. My bouts with it started with me glossing over the back cover, weighing the paperback in my hands, and putting it back down. This lasted a month before I decided to move on to my next novel, but by that point, my engine had run out of steam. It might as well have been covered in rust and moss.

Around the same time, I found most reading tedious. Interesting articles online would become skimmed, at best. Comic books I purchased wouldn't be opened until my next trip to the comic book shop for fear of falling too far behind. Creative work friends passed along to me to look over wouldn't receive an opinion until months later. I've managed a few memoirs and collections of essays during the past two years, but those aside, stimulus has been slow for the right side of my brain.

If I could pinpoint the problem, I'd try to remedy it. For now, my best guesses are an undiagnosed cases of ADD, constant FOMO, and enjoyment-depriving depression - none of which I'm ready to admit to myself, probably just making matters worse.

Have no fear, there's hope yet. My friend and I have started a book club! ...however our first meeting has been postponed due to lack of readership, myself included. It's comforting to know I'm not the only one that struggles to turn pages but it's also harrowing. I'm hoping that we can come together soon to accomplish the main goal of this book club: to not let Levar Burton down. Watch the Reading Rainbow on Netflix!*

Until then, I'll make my own strides towards self-recovery. Is this what it feels like for Division I athletes to break a collarbone and try to push through it for love of the game? If so, my condolences to you all. We're finally in the same gang. Now, please excuse me as I struggle to proofread my own work.

Word


*Not a paid advertisement... yet.
**My book club is currently reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Possible book report to come upon our completion.

Couch Surfin

And now, an actual monologue of the Wacko variety. Feel free to use it as your next audition piece.

~~~

This post comes to you live from a friend's couch, transmitted from a mobile device. Got a long history of sleeping on couches that dates back to my first sleepovers. Then, it wasn't even a recliner I slept on; Twas the floor. See, my best friend had a large family in a small home so technically he didn't have a bed but a fine claim to the couch. And I would gladly accept the cushion he offered me as I dreamt on the imaginary bottom bunk next to him. I did this any time I would visit my father, not because I hated him, but because I felt a closeness to my friend I didn't see often enough. I even fought off roaches for this luxury. 

This standard of not sleeping in my own bed manifested itself in my college years, when by senior year I felt at home enough with my friends that instead of walking the mile back to my own dorm I'd simply crash on their uncomfortable blue sofa, occasionally forgoing a blanket. Years of stiff floorboard conditioning had done me well. Even once one of my friends graduated a semester early and his bed was free to claim, I refused to move in - not because I didn't want to, but because I enjoyed having two options to sleep and actively choosing the crappier option, unconsciously deciding to show my dedication to them. 

Then I graduated and found my own place. And I was working minimum wage. And I slept on the pillow pad of my roommate's lawn sofa in my own room. And this bothered me not, because I had trained for this and the cheap mattress I ordered was on its way. Except one month passed. Then another. And another. And another. Until it was the Super Bowl and I had my first post-college hookup and I didn't have a bed to fool around on and I never heard from him again. That's when I mustered up enough funds to buy another mattress. And this one arrived in a week, I was so overjoyed. It had a pillow top and everything. But then, two days later, the unimaginable happened. UPS must have finally figured out where I lived, because when I returned from work that night there was a box marked "From Walmart" and I immediately recognized it as the first mattress I was too much of a punk to trace or call about. 

It was then that I knew my days of couch surfing were over. You learn to appreciate your own bed when you buy two of them in less than a year. Not to say I won't still sleep over a friend's place. Obviously, I'm on one right now. Shit, I won't even bother to pull it out if it's one of those fancy 2-in-1 types. But never again will I purposely sleep for weeks on end on anyone else's sofa, loveseat, recliner, or carpeted floor when I have a fine ass Queen mattress in a big ass room in a big ass house to call my own.

Word.

Not a Silly Love Blog

Happy Valentine's Day weekend, you paired-off fools! While all my couple friends forsake me for the next few days, I hope to host a singles mixer to celebrate our freedom and bitterness around a bonfire. No, I'm lying. I don't have the space to create a proper controlled fire. I'll probably just end up catching up on two weeks of Youtube subscriptions or reading the book for my book club on Monday. Maybe spice it up with a little Tinder action.

That's right, baby makers, the gays have invaded your precious fornication playground! Not that I'm having much luck myself, being the worst and all. I think the creators of Tinder made it too much like a video game. Swiping left and right dehumanizes my fellow men of a homosexual nature. They're not real. So when I swipe right and the screen notifies me that "IT'S A MATCH!" my fight or flight reflex kicks in and I throw my phone across the room. After I've gained my composure, I retrieve my phone and decide if he's good looking and interesting enough to muster up courage for an introductory message. I'm not saying I have high standards; I'm just saying I have a low sent-message rate.

Why am I so shy? Isn't the internet supposed to be where everyone has the most courage? If people aren't real until you meet them, then why do I have a problem treating them like play things? I suppose my empathy levels are over 9000. Or maybe I'm still not ready for a relationship.

I think mostly I'm bored with online dating. For the most part, Baltimore produces the same crop of gays. I'm not talking demographic-wise; I mean I see the same faces in the same locations on Grindr and Scruff. It's kind of like walking through a video game's dungeon and getting annoyed that you keep running into the same monsters. Where's the variety? Where's the unexpectedness? Instead I'm faced with guys I don't want to be bothered with bothering me while I daydream about guys I can never have.

Ultimately, I'm stopping myself from finding love. Rejection still scares me but it shouldn't. People say no, and I have to learn how to deal with being unwanted. Not having a reliable mode of transportation is an obstacle, as well. When did dating turn into a job application? Damn the advances of the 21st century!

Maybe I'll take the MARC train into DC more often. It'd be a nice change of pace, and something tells me they may have more queer spaces than Baltimore has to offer. Granted, talking to strangers in person is more of a challenge for me but one I've been meaning to work on. ...or I can just drag a friend along and force them to be my Barney Stinson.

But enough of my wallowing. Go forth and frolic, you eager little bunnies. Celebrate your joyous unions. I wish Valentine's Day babies on only those financially prepared and bored with life.

Word

Death of a Dab

I now understand why people say it's more than a game. Last night's Super Bowl wasn't just a game between two outstanding quarterbacks; for me (and plenty of others on Twitter) it was a night of what should have been black pride. We all expected to champion our newest representative in the face of people who call us thugs for celebrating. Instead, we performed a memorial Dab for Black History Month as it ended abruptly at approximately 10:32pm on February 7th.

To be honest, the Dab has had one foot in the grave since Hillary Clinton  attempted it with Ellen Degeneres. I'm not saying white people ruin everything. Quite the opposite. Betty White gave me life when she presented her interpretation.

However, Cameron Newton and his crew of flunkies failed to uphold their winning standard. They allowed the eldest Manning to take away his younger brother's bragging rights by tying their Super Bowl rings. It would be a wonderful time to retire, but I foresee alliteration coming to play as he becomes Petty Peyton and goes for one more championship.

I'm not saying the NFL is fixed, but I'm not saying it's not neither.

The saddest part about the result of last night game's is that racists and other problematic people will continue to heckle Cam in the face of his recent defeat. Then again, they probably would have kept it up anyway. Racists are the true petty artists.

So, this post is for all my real ones. Pour out your coffee or tea as I spill my 40 for the death of a simple and elegant dance that was once a symbol of celebration. RIP the dab emoji that never officially was.

Word.

Follicly Challenged

If you're my friend - and I mean my friend - then you know how I tend to study people. If I'm not talking, chances are I'm taking notes on you. I'm not being critical; it's just my way of noticing differences and evolutions. For some reason, balding has been on my mind lately.

With two bald grandfathers, I know the grim reaper is coming for my hair follicles.* But rather than stress, I'm enjoying my hair while I can. Just this past year I let my hair grow so long it reached the tip of my nose; I only cut it because it was annoying to manage. Now I'm constantly reminded of my cowlick that occasionally freaks me out. But enough about me, I'm boring. This is about my friends and how they graciously deal with hair loss.

Buford

Vegeta of DBZ fame

Buford is extremely worried about balding. Buford has a full head of hair, good hair at that. However, he's aware of the Vegeta-shaped tragedy that befalls many white men and worries a dagger of a hairline may prohibit him from the roles he yearns for. He is a man of the stage, after all, and unfortunately looks can make or break you. Luckily for him, he is wise beyond his years and started his hair growth regimen before any noticeable damage has been done. But if for some reason his lines of defense fail him, Buford can hold comfort in knowing that a shaved head suits him just fine.

Lamar
Lamar has been facing his ever-growing forehead since he was allowed to vote. The change has been gradual, and if you've been around him through the years you might hardly notice. Then Facebook presents a picture from six years ago as an "On This Day" notification and suddenly you have a frame of reference. It won't be long before Lamar hits 30 and sports the George Jefferson. Though he occasionally frets about it, he finds solace as a black man with a presentable face and full beard. It's only a matter of time until he opts for the Boris Kudjoe**, and I wait with bated breath for that day.

Calvin
Depending on the sun's position, you may have never noticed Calvin's hair. Not necessarily for the lack thereof, but because of its shiny blond nature. Also for the lack thereof. In recent years, Calvin has decided to keep his hair short, buzzcut short. I revel in his decision, for Calvin is one of the few white men I will allow to black in my hair as long as I may stroke his peach-fuzz like scalp. It's a rather calming sensation. I recommend you all find a confident balding blond man and do the same. May Calvin's hair never fully retreat from him.

Wallace
The award for my baldest friend goes to Wallace. Wallace went bald at a young age. Rumor has it he was one of the unfortunates who experienced hair lost in high school. Why would fate be so cruel as to leave such a promising young man so unblessed? Luckily, my young friend has a quick wit and is a master of deflection - skills one can only assume grew stronger the balder Wallace became. I've seen Wallace come for Lamar's hairline on numerous occasion in the wake of his non-existent one without a single comment on it. It is perhaps how unashamed he is that makes him immune to such jokes, much like a small chested woman who wears v-necks isn't bother by the term "itty-bitty titty committee." Of all my friends, I wish to bald with Wallace's grace.

Of course there are more friends with receding hairlines, but those are tales much like my own: not worth telling until the climax. Until then, I hope my renamed friends had a good laugh about this. I salute you all for your bravery. And remember, grease your scalps regularly.


Word.


*See "Man Seeking Woman" EP203. Great show, highly recommend.
**

Mmm, gotdamn gotdamn gotdamn

Black Erasure

First things first, happy Stay Woke Awareness Month, or as it's more commonly known Black History Month. Sorry I took a week or so off, had to recuperate and refocus. See, I've noticed the amount of softballs and fluff pieces I've been producing. In an attempt to give you all better content, I'm here to present to you a theory that's so apparent it's hard to believe: white America is trying to wipe black America out of existence.

Now, I don't mean every single white person. No, don't be silly. This is directed at the powers that be - the Man or Council of Supremacy, if you will. You have to understand, they're just trying to hold on to the past. They arranged things just the way they liked it, and they intend on keeping it that way. Why give up your seat upon the throne to share a slice of cake when you can eat it?*

How are George Washington's Wooden Dentures taking us out one by one? Allow me to lay these conspiracies upon you, my dear brothers and sisters [and cousins].

The most tragic and apparent injustice against people of black descent are the countless instances of police brutality and fatality. One would have thought the lesson would have been learned from the Rodney King case, but history does tend to repeat itself. Luckily, social media exposes more corrupt and malicious police officers than ever before. Unfortunately, the incrimination rate of these officers is not as high. It is constant insult to injury for nearly every instance. In the grand scheme of things, this makes sense. Why would the White Shadow wish mass genocide upon us like the KKK? We were more useful to them as broken people. They wish to tire us mentally.

They start out small, almost microgressions. For the past 50 or more years, the American sports industry has been dominated by black players - an amazing result of slave breeding that's worked in our favor. However, in the NFL, the majority of quarterbacks are white - because, you know, leaders are white. Russell Wilson is the only black quarterback to have appeared in the Super Bowl as of Super Bowl 49 [or XLVIII]. During the 2015 season, we have been graced by the magnificence that is Cam Newton, but he's been faced with adversity as people call him a thug or worse. Apparently dabbing in the end zone is a terrible offense. They find anyway to disgrace a black quarterback, but will defend a white quarterback until they're backed into a corner. Sure, some cases have been dismissed at accusations, but in most environments being accused of rape should destroy your career.

Sports aren't the only public arena black people are discredited. By now, we've all become familiar with the phenomenon that is #OscarsSoWhite. The clear disrespect that Sylvester Stallone is nominated while Michael B Jordan and Ryan Coogler remain neglected for their work as lead actor and director, respectively, is ridiculous. In fairness, I haven't seen the movie. It's just amusing that the prominent white actor in what could very easily be considered a "black movie" is the one being recognized for his talents. But you know, when you're an old white men sitting on an academy award committee you truly want to see yourself represented in the media because you've never had the opportunity before.

I'd like to wrap up my first militant post of 2016 with a nod to Michael Joseph Jackson. You've faced plenty of adversity in your life: abuse from your father, vitiligo, the Pepsi incident, child abuse/rape claims, monkey ownership, etc. However, you were a wonderful and impactful black man. Very proud of it, if memory serves correctly. So allow me to formally apologize for the casting of Joseph Fiennes in a fanfic about you, Elizabeth Taylor, and Marlon Brando fleeing a post 9/11 New York City - for both the white actor portraying you and what's sure to be a clusterfuck of a film. Also, I'm sorry for the whiteface Flex Alexander donned in that one television movie. Maybe we should just leave you out of films.

The problem of whitewashing characters is all too real. I'm glad no one has tried to hide behind the thin vail of colorblind casting only to be asked why the cast looks like a box of Rice Krispies. Shout out to the colorblind casting of Hamilton and their sold out run into the Fall.

There are more examples I could mention, but we have a whole month of awareness to get through. I sincerely wish the best for all of you. Don't allow the media to tell you your worth or lack thereof. Black, white, and every other ethnicity, we are all amazing. There's room for us all; don't allow the human manifestations of Scrooge McDuck and Foghorn Leghorn to erase you out of existence.

Word


*I don't know how idioms work, you guys. Help!