It is amazing to me that people can claim that racism no longer exists in America. I know that some narrow-minded individuals believe that they did their duty to eliminate that dark elephant in America’s room by electing Barack Obama, but they merely draped a giant cloth over it.
If you want to see just how racist Americans can still be, look no further than the African-American community. We are gruesomely racist against each other to the point of holding each other back. And nothing is more ignorant and hateful than to call a black person white. Bouji, Oreo, Uncle Tom: those are some of the harsh nicknames we have for our own brothers and sisters that don’t comply with society’s view of what a black person should be. That self-hatred is damaging.
The image many people have of African-Americans.
I’ve dealt with ignorant people that had ill-conceived ideas of black people my whole life. From kids wondering why I didn’t listen to rap music, to being mistaken for British because I pronounce my words, I’ve had my own uphill battle with those that grouped black people by media-forced images. Some of my friends have joked with me about this. I’ve had black peers in junior high and high school pretend to be my friends while hurting me emotionally and physically, making me the butt of their jokes. Even my ex-girlfriend (a Hungarian woman) made an unfortunate “joke” about me acting white despite me being black. Her comment hurt more than nearly any other, as I gave her my love and trust, and got an ignorant comment in return.
Some would say "Oreo." I say "jackass."
And then there are those that have called me that delightful n-word simply based on the color of my skin. Those were the worst experiences of all.
I wish that I was making this up.
No matter where someone lives, how they act or what they like, they will always be an African-American. Those roots can never be escaped. Black people that “act white” is an unfortunate viewpoint of a person so shallow, ignorant and with little insight, it magnifies the problems that we ALL face as a culture — not just the black community, which has a deep-seated problem with putting down people of their own heritage due to low self-esteem brought on by self-hatred from themselves, their families, friends, the black community and negative stereotypes. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.
It’s been a few months since America has seen you. A long time away from the spotlight, eh? I know. Attention-seeking sociopaths get lonely, too.
So I hear that you are coming back to VH1 and Celebreality with the second version of For the Love of Ray J. Deciding whether to cash that paycheck must have been quite the dilemma! Royalties from those guest spots on Moesha must be waning. What about music? You had a hit single with “Wait a Minute” from that one album, This Ain’t a Game. All Music Guide picked it as your best album at a lofty two stars! I bet they LOVED the song “Wet Me.” Oh, you are a wordsmith.
Who's ready for a STD?
Any-who, I’m rambling here. I wanted to write this because, again, you’re coming back to reality TV. And with such a momentous event, I had to say this:
You’re slimy.
Everything you touch is slimy.
Your music — if you can call it that — is slimy. (Seriously, “Wet Me?”) I know that you overcompensate for being the little brother of (formerly) squeaky-clean R&B singer Brandy, but your R. Kelly-wannabe Lothario act is even slimier than he is — and he loves underage girls!
The women in your life — Kim Kardashian, Whitney Houston, your mom when you were born — are now and forever slimy. Congrats for tainting them with that slime.
That poor woman.
That beloved art form known as reality TV is that much slimier with you and your show on it. Having women fight over the right to date you? Sure, it’s comical when Bret Michaels or Flavor Flav do it because, you know, they’re pathetic. But dude, you bring so much skeeze and swarthiness, it’s like a Nickelodeon slime-like film that drips off of the screen every time you appear.
Knowing that singer Brandy is your sister, I shouldn’t be surprised that she is slimy, but somehow, her being on your show is that much more slimy.
Too bad that these conversations are few and far between, as we continue to see a blatant prejudice in partner preference. In my occasional strolls online, I waded through the gutter known as the Craigslist Personals. And boy, there were some doozies that made me want to bite kneecaps.
I’m spending the day relaxing and regrouping. Later in the evening, I’m planning on going to one of the several Starbucks in town. And I wouldn’t mind some company that could lead to a friend with benefits and/or something more situation.
I’m a small full-figured black woman who has a job, no kids or drama, my own place, and my own car. I could just use the occasional company of a single WHITE male between the ages of 30-48. (I seem to have a thing for engineers, so that could be a bonus for you.) I work 2nd shift, so it’s sometimes hard to meet a non-Wal-mart employee and a man that is willing to make an effort to keep up an easy situation.
So I look forward to hearing from you. Please include a picture.
Damn. At age 29, I barely missed the cut-off for her requirements. Also, I’m not WHITE.
I know that people have their ideal partner picked out in their minds, but most mask their racial hang-ups behind polite remarks about “having conservative values,” “thinking that Tucson, Arizona is too liberal” (true story) and similar treats.
I think that the next online dating ad I write will weed out unwanted correspondences by including that I seek a “single female with GYNORMOUS HOO-HOOS.” After all, having big ol’ breasteses automatically means that a woman is infinitely more desirable and therefore better as a human being than someone with only decent breasticles.
You can replace the breast talk with race, and this analogy still applies.
I am trying to find out where all the sexy black men hang out. I am looking for a black man that embraces his roots and is not trying to act white. A man that can get down at the club and rub up on me or just chill and watch a game. I like a man that knows what he wants and goes after it.
*sigh*
Let’s break this down:
1. I am trying to find out where all the sexy black men hang out.
Looking on Craigslist for the super-secret hang out of the sexy black men is the first mistake. At best, you’ll find a moderately decent black man, and they sure as hell won’t divulge where the sexy black man clubhouse is. (Hint: it ain’t in Scottsdale, where this person lives.) Second, thinking that there is some forest meadow where sexy black men frolic is the most ignorant thing I’ve read in some time — and that includes the racist Louisiana judge with “piles” of black friends. I honestly hope she finds this mystical fairytale of a black man bordello, and is kicked out on her face.
2. I am looking for a black man that embraces his roots and is not trying to act white.
I am punching a pillow as I write this. It hurts. SO MUCH.
Watch out, Beyonce! White-acting brotha be wantin' the white meat!
I am curious about what constitutes these “roots” that are so desperately in need of embracing. Considering that the person asking thinks there is an invisible fortress where black men are bringing sexy back, I would guess that these “roots” include the common images of black men that they probably internalize: being straight-up gangsta and acting hard, using slang as the main form of communication, dressing in such ways that a crazy-ass white person wouldn’t dress, and having a comical hatred for the white man.
I’ve dealt with ignorant people that had ill-conceived ideas of black people my whole life. From kids wondering why I didn’t listen to rap music, to being mistaken for British because I pronounce my words, I’ve had my own uphill battle with those that grouped black people by media-forced images. Some of my friends have joked with me about this. I’ve had black peers in junior high and high school pretend to be my friends while hurting me emotionally and physically, making me the butt of their jokes. Even my ex-girlfriend (a Hungarian woman) made an unfortunate “joke” about me acting white despite being black. Her comment hurt more than nearly any other, as I gave her my love and trust, and got an ignorant comment in return.
And then there are those that have called me that delightful n-word simply based on the color of my skin. Those were the worst experiences of all.
So these “roots” are those that can never be escaped. As for black men that “act white?” That is an unfortunate viewpoint of a person so shallow, ignorant and with little insight, it magnifies the problems that we ALL face as a culture — not just the black community, which has a deep-seated problem with putting down people of their own heritage due to low self-esteem brought on by self-hatred from themselves, their families, friends, the black community and negative stereotypes. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.
You want a black man who won’t “act white.” How about you stop acting like a bigot?
3. A man that can get down at the club and rub up on me or just chill and watch a game.
Is that all black men are good for — grinding on your dumb ass at the club or enjoying sports? Well, DAMN MASSA! Break out the leash, because I wants to please you at the club, MISS! I loves me some basketball, miss! I don’t have the insight to enjoy other activities that require mental or physical exertion besides putting that orange ball through the hoop! Oh LAWD!
Seriously, get out more.
Oh LAWD!
4. I like a man that knows what he wants and goes after it.
Does this include a sexy black man that knows that he wants a 40-ounce and steals it? Because based on this shit I’ve been reading so far, I wouldn’t be surprised.
I would LOVE to see the responses this Craigslist ad gets, especially if it’s one of these imaginary sexy black men that congregate in secret, waiting to be found by dim-witted women from Scottsdale that hate those white-acting Negroids.
This stuff is why race will continue to be an issue in dating — let alone American society — for a long time to come. While it’s good to weed out the racist idiots for what they are, the prevalence for such attitudes — and the brazen confidence to display it openly — shows that we are far from the racial progress some people believe we have achieved because a black man is president of the United States.
There are few things that I love more than satire — the more biting, the better. And few things are more capable of being mocked than network television. Network execs are playing to particular tastes, and the expectations of the audiences are narrow.
Therefore, satirical skewerings of television, when done well, make me giggle like a little girl in a tickle fight. A few years ago, satirical newspaper/website The Onion had a feature of made-up television shows on established TV networks, with titles that could easily pass for respective television shows on said network. Because I miss them so much, I’ll occasionally make one of my own:
These sorts of things amuse me, and I want to share them with y’all. Also, I’m easily amused.
Last week, dating website OKCupid posted a blog about race affecting the chances of getting a response. While their candor about racism being alive and well is refreshing in an era of “We elected a Black president! Racism: OVER!” their findings were nevertheless flawed for many reasons, and skewed their argument a tad. (ReadWriteWeb nitpicked the blog post as well, and were eager to proclaim some of the results as “white men are today’s punching bag – at least on the OKCupid blog.”) The overwhelming finding: people were not very willing to date outside of their race, though they were curious.
There are many reasons that the findings were as commented on and analyzed as they were. The exact numbers of people polled, breakdown of racial makeup of said members, sexuality and gender were not released, which immediately calls the findings into question. More than that, though, and perhaps because of the distortion, the findings show that white men and women ultimately prefer to respond to and date their own race, and that Black women are the most ignored in message replies.
Oscar Wilde said that "art dictates life." If Couples Retreat is art, life is sad.
A few more interesting “factoids”:
- The better the match (broken down by responses to survey questions), the better the chance of receiving a message
- Black men are very likely to respond to Asian women (55 percent); Black males have a 17-percent chance of receiving a reply from Asian females
- White males have the best match rates with white females
- White men have a high rate of response (38 percent) from Black women
- White men dominate in getting responses; Black men are not as lucky (colors representing success; oh, OkCupid, you sly dogs!)
- White men are are not as responsive overall as those of other races
- White women would prefer to date someone of their own race/skin color (54 percent), and white men share a similar preference (40 percent)
- White people be RACIST…
(That last one may or may not be true.)
Again, I can’t speak for the validity of the findings, but I, like many people, immediately took the results at face value. When I first read the blog — admittedly, after seeing the ReadWriteWeb post — and processed the findings, I was overwhelmed with emotions. Sadness, confusion, anger, hurt, rage; my feelings ran the gamut. For a site seemingly as smart as OkCupid with seemingly intelligent daters on the surface, the data was that much more bothersome. This led me to process my own online dating past.
I have my own personal experiences in dating, and the vast majority of them have been interracial. I have been on the receiving end of the “it’s not you, it’s me” speeches, the non-replies, perusing profiles and seeing women explicitly state a preference for one race, blatant and subtle ignorance in profiles and responses. It was like marching into battle every time I logged onto the site, expecting to be shot down.
Like Miley Cyrus and Twitter avoidance as a result, this is an argument against dating.
Such is life in the dating world, as it is a battlefield (Pat Benetar did say it best), but I naively thought that online daters would be a more discerning, open-minded bunch. And OkCupid’s blog suggests that my past is within range of their results. Add to that the fact that my regular dating would fall in line with this as well, and it suggested a few things: either their findings were really true, I am a crappy dater, I haven’t met the right woman, and/or I should give up.
Then, I got all logical. What benefit is there to post such xenophobic-leaning findings on a dating site’s blog? Why were the methods of experimentation not published? And what can be done with the results, slanted or not? Well, there are answers to all of these.
Obviously, the OkCupid folks love crunching data and showing readers their findings. As America has been oddly quiet on racial issues since Obama was elected — though those DELIGHTFUL Birther/Teabaggers are not that shy — the idea of race in dating online is intriguing and rarely mentioned. While interracial marriage is legal in all 50 states since Loving v. Virginia (1967 Supreme Court case), and interracial dating and marriage are more common nowadays, there is an unspoken ideal preference for dating and marrying within in one’s race. I am not saying this as fact, but my personal experiences within my family and via friends’ families are predominant in being with someone of the same race. In other words: people are more open to the idea of interracial coupling, but it’s not all “Ebony and Ivory” yet. OkCupid is merely the messenger, and you can use their results and website at your own risk.
Oh, racists. Always trying to stir up trouble.
So if the website is being all daring with their article — highlighted by their quote “being poor gives us a certain freedom. To alienate all our users. So there” — why not go the extra step and show the numbers of said people that were tabulated? Good question, and one that can’t be answered without contacting them directly. No matter what, it succeeded in getting people thinking and talking about racial attitudes in dating. And really, isn’t that enough? As long as people are mindful of what they prefer and perhaps being more receptive to others, the mindset of altering attitudes might be worth obscuring a few figures. I don’t agree with this if true, but it isn’t a scientific journal; it’s a blog about why people be wanting to bang. And bang they will.
But who will they bang? And why? In examining the article, I learned quite a bit about the inner workings of OkCupid and online dater preferences. I learned that people will do what makes them comfortable. And that magnified why people need to step outside their comfort zones to truly find happiness. People will gravitate towards maintaining the status quo that was taught to them, if only to avoid disturbing the delicate fabric of society.
However, people can open themselves up to something wonderful, if they are willing to put in the work. On the subject of uneasiness, film director Guy Ritchie said, “You have to be comfortable being uncomfortable.” He referred to fear being worse than the potentially threatening situation itself. Life is not all chocolate-fudge-ripple unicorns, but enduring something once seen as scary could be worth the experience.
Mad Men's Christina Hendricks and Super Troopers' Geoffrey Arend: encouraging geeks to go for the hottie.
In director Kevin Smith’s Chasing Amy, female protagonist Alyssa Jones was more wordy and yet direct on the subject, explaining to her lover, Holden McNeil, why she branched out from her comfort zone of dating women:
“You know, I didn’t just heed what I was taught, men and women should be together, it’s the natural way, that kind of thing. I’m not with you because of what family, society, life tried to instill in me from day one. The way the world is, how seldom it is that you meet that one person who just GETS you – it’s so rare. My parents didn’t really have it. There were no examples set for me in the world of male-female relationships. And to cut oneself off from finding that person, to immediately halve your options by eliminating the possibility of finding that one person within your own gender, that just seemed stupid to me. So I didn’t. But then you came along. You, the one least likely. I mean, you were a guy.”
Jones (and Smith) manage to explain in one monologue what OkCupid took hundreds of words and data to try to say: wake up and realize what is out there.
With most relationships ending for a variety of reasons, and more than half of all marriages ending in divorce, why not expand those horizons to buck the negative trend? There may be heartaches, issues and shakeups in stepping outside of the box. The initial distress, however, could net the person they’ve always wanted. And wouldn’t it be nice. I know that it would be for me.
A few days ago, a friend of a friend — maybe even a friend — mentioned that people are easily amused these days. I can see their point.
Pop-rock recording artist Avril Lavigne may never sell 126 million albums. Hell, she may never sell 126 of anything. And yet somehow, her YouTube video for her song, “Girlfriend,” has more than 126 million hits. And if you’re wondering whether this is the most views of any video ever, this list will challenge your notion of what people are interested in.
I am quick to mock pop culture, and as a largely democratic form of entertainment, it is easy. (Where else can popularity determine careers in Hollywood, lifestyles of artists — from music to painters — and YouTube sensations?) Many countries can bask in the leisure of their non-hectic lives, watching television while surfing the Internet and eating a Hot Pocket (or foreign equivalent) while having a hand-held device perform sexual acts on their genitals. It’s as if Bill Gates, Jesus, Dane Cook and a unicorn had an epic tickle fight in a rainbow storm.
So we have a lot of time on our hands to watch poor-resolution videos and enjoy other leisure forms of questionable merit. So what? What’s the big deal? If you stop and think about it, this is human progress. In the grand scheme of things, it is very harmless compared to our past entertainment: burnings, lynchings and straight-up murder.
Before you vomit from the imagery, this is a good thing. For the most part, people in first- and second-world societies no longer have to worry about life and death on a daily basis. People can go to concerts, play volleyball and ogle women in strip clubs instead of fighting plague-like diseases, horrible elements and dinosaurs. And that energy once used to out-sprint Native Americans is now used to pound out poorly-spelled diatribes on the Internet because someone dissed their favorite band. Progress!
Pearl Jam saw the future of human amusement in their stellar music video (and great song), “Do the Evolution”:
While Average Joes may not be strapping on the virtual reality/3D goggles yet, plugging in for their amusement is definitely a present form of fun — way safer and less exerting than stoning people. And as long as people are amused by a music video instead of being under or raining down harm, it’s all good.
Hollywood is a business. While many people think of the engine of America’s movie industry as a sparkling gold-plated driver of dreams in bright spotlights, it is a catalyst of and victim to capitalism at the end of the day. It employs millions of people, funnels billions more into economies around the world, and needs money-making product to sustain its gross, bloated chassis. Nowhere is Hollywood’s dependency more evident than the mainstream movie, a calculated product of famous actors/actresses, by-the-numbers plots and screenwriting, test-screenings and marketing push for awareness.
All of these components are whittled down into something palatable to the masses, a bland concoction of beige that goes down smooth and doesn’t upset stomachs or sensibilities. A prime example: Couples Retreat.
Vince Vaughn looks like he's afraid for his life. Or his waning credibility. Whatever.
Couples Retreat is a movie with bankable stars, well-worn plotlines and cliches up the yin-yang. The story of four married couples at a resort to work on their relationships seems like territory that has been traveled long before, and could stand to be shaken up. With comedic talents like Jason Bateman (Arrested Development, Extract) and Fred Claus’s Vince Vaughn (somehow branching out from flavorless Christmas comedies like Four Christmases) and a screenplay co-written by Jon Favreau (Iron Man, Swingers) and Vaughn, it’s amazing how banal AND offensive this movie looks. Want to see the object of ire? Check this out:
From this 30-second clip, there are examples of:
- Fish out of water syndrome: witnessed by the couples arriving in the tropical paradise and meeting Stanley “with a C.” We sho’ ain’t in Kansas no mo’!
- Beautiful women: The Charlie’s Angels-like shot of three of the female leads (there should be a fourth; more on that later) walking towards the cameras is designed to bring on instant wood in the male population. “Ooh, they have on bikini’s! Time to ditch that Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue!” Yawn.
- Aloof natives: Jean Reno, actor of better films like Leon, is cast as the zen-like, culture-clashing employee, talking about the “circle of life” when our heroes are surrounded by sharks in the water. Oh, foreigners. They will never understand America’s love of xenophobia.
The Asian-inspired prison jumpsuits are a reminder: this movie is torture.
- Homophobia: With the bellow of “Who is ready to stretch their limits?” it is the male viewer’s warning to suck their sphincters tight! The greased-up yoga instructor (Carlos Ponce?, Deuce Bigalow: European Jungle), clad in a Speedo and air-humping Bateman’s face, practically begs the viewer to gasp in disgust and hold their fingers to the screen in a cross symbol. We get it, marketers: suggestive male-on-male humping is yucky!
- Black Stereotypes: Nothing spells olive branches of racial inclusion like black penis jokes! When the couples are asked to disrobe by Reno (also wearing a Speedo), it’s time to once again go to the well for tired jokes. Veteran comedic actor and token black lead Faizon Love mentions that he doesn’t “have any draws on” (Get it? Because black people only refer to their underwear as “draws!” It’s like they speak another language!), which leads to eventually being coaxed into removing said “draws.” Cue WASP-esque Kristen Bell to gasp in shock at the sight of unleashed anaconda, white males (Bateman, Favreau and Vaughn) discomforted in their supposed penile inadequacy, and Vaughn later rolling with the punches. BOOM: THAT’S how you pander to middle America!
ZOMG! Black penis! White members... small and flaccid in contrast!
- Party Over Here!: Since it all takes place on a jumpin’ tropical island, the last few seconds show vacationers bumpin’ and grindin’. What a way to polish over the last 27 seconds of monotony: “Hey film-goers, this movie is tedious and lazy, but there’s a party over here!”
- Lack of People of Color: Forget that most mainstream Hollywood movies shoehorn in a few people of ethnicity to appeal to those colored demographics: where the hell is the wife of Faizon Love’s character, Tasha Smith (Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns, You, Me and Dupree)? In between shots of pasty, flabby guts, enough fire for a Michael Bay movie and blue water, there are no mentions that half of the fourth couple is absent.
Two of those fabled colored people
With a strong black woman like Michelle Obama as First Lady of the United States, there should be no reason for America to fear those scary Negro ladies. (*Psst: they still do.*) Hey, maybe she’s invisible! Maybe she doesn’t like the sun, which would be even funnier if this movie had any sense of irony. But nah, she’s not there, like the marketers were like, “She won’t sell to the non-blacks.” Did you know that up-and-coming comedic actor Ken Jeong (The Hangover, Knocked Up) is in this movie, too? You wouldn’t know it by the commercial.
A 30-second commercial is not a lot to go on for judging a 107-minute movie, and yet it says a lot. As commercials are made and broadcast to sell a product, the TV spot for Couples Retreat shows a movie that will not challenge the average moviegoer’s preconceptions. This is comfort food for the mainstream audience, and a theoretical box-office slam dunk for a movie studio, because of those reasons stated above. And every dollar that goes towards viewing it supports that Hollywood machine that churns out these offerings of banality. Enjoy!
Just when fast food restaurants were on the road to recovery from ridicule from KFC’s Double Down sandwich — a concoction of two chicken breasts encapsulating bacon, cheese, Colonel’s Sauce and shame that seemed engineered in a drunken college student’s apartment — and its sheer lunacy, McDonald’s is all, “Bitch, please!” and craps out (literally) the Mac Snack Wrap:
McD’s didn’t even try with this one; It’s a hamburger dookie drenched in cheese, shredded lettuce and thousand island dressing, wrapped in a wax paper tortilla shell. And customers have the privilege of paying $1.49 to eat this on the go, preferably with a 128-ounce Hyper Gulp soft drink!
This has to stop. Where is the bottom of this fast-food idiocy well? Between Domino’s Pizza throwing carb-obliterating messes their grade-school chefs dream up, and KFC doubling down on diabetes, it’s like corporations are throwing up their hands and groaning, “Fuck it.” Should we start the countdown for Burger King’s Muy Loco Whopper, two hamburger patties containing salsa, broken tortilla shells and tres leches cake?
Watching fast food restaurants race down to the lowest of the lowest common denominator of cuisine is like watching a Jersey Shore spelling bee. In this case, the customers lose.
Hey there, wannabes, jerkwads and Long Island inhabitants! Is your car interior in need of being pimped? Wish that your seats reflected the tacky, brazen personality of your AXE-sprayed epidermis? Want your butt and back coddled by the visage of zoo animals? Well, Christian Audigier has once again risen to the challenge, creating the car seat cover for such a consumer:
The Ed Hardy car seat cover: when devil girl and Hello Kitty covers just won’t do.
The Ed Hardy car seat cover shows that you mean business, if that business is showing the world that you are a follower with the most base of tastes. The world will know that you like your car innards like you like your t-shirts and water: loud with a chance of jackass.
But hey, you’re expressing yourself, right? And Ed Hardy is your self-expression to show how awesome you are. Good luck telling others that you aren’t a cast member of VH1’s Tool Academy!
The Ed Hardy car cover seat also matches well with the Ed Hardy car air freshener (sold separately). Unsurprisingly, it also smells like AXE:
The Ed Hardy car cover seat. Try to convince people that you didn’t clothe your seat backs in black velvet paintings from the ’70s!
