Enough Already

Look here, I'm happy to be honest about what kind of job I think our leaders are doing, never hesitated to get on my soap box. But all this whining about disillusionment with Obama is really starting to get on my nerves. I don't know what people expected when they voted for him, but I don't think it was for him to spend all of his attention, time, energy, and brain power on special interests, not the way some folks would like. It's so unbelievably selfish to feed him to the wolves because he's not doing what you want him to do. Would we rather have had the alternative in office? And if you didn't want either, be angry at our two-party system and the way we do politics and do something to change it.

Everybody is so full of criticism, but I have not heard one, not one viable solution to anything (believe it or not oilman T. Boone Pickens is really the only person who has made any sense to me at all, him and a few others. I'm sure somebody is going to write in to tell me he's the anti-Christ. I know, I know, natural gas has to be released and that means digging and breaking up land, but for crying out loud, we don't have enough facilities to gather all the sustainable and renewable energy like solar and wind power yet, and may not for a long while, so we may have to go natural gas until we get off the teat of big oil and get our act together) We built this economic mess over many years--wake up folks, it's not going to turn around in a few months. We also have to start thinking beyond the same old same old in terms of the way we are living. Those times are over. And let's not forget where our deficit, this so-called horrible legacy that we are leaving our children really came from.

Sitting around and waiting for President Obama to save the world is just plain stupid.

So okay, maybe we don't have enough motivation or anger to take to the streets like the Guatemalans, but we can do things, however small, to contribute to make everyone's life better. As I come across these things we can do, I'll post them here for inspiration. I'm sure there are many of you out there who are already inspired. I'd like to hear from you.

Remember the Time

It was a blow to hear that Michael Jackson died of cardiac arrest yesterday, and the remembrances and analyses (some of which are neither desired or required) are too many to count. I can't think of one friend under the age of 60 who can't sing at least one line from any Jackson 5 or Michael Jackson tune. I have to admit that I was much more sad than I thought I would be—after all, I didn't know him personally. But when I think of how he touched so many people's worlds with his music—my dear friend John, who is a deejay, told me that he would never be able to count how many times he played MJ's music at weddings and birthdays and sweet sixteens for people of all races, cultures, religions, and socioeconomic levels, that Michael made his career possible in a big way.

At 7 I was going to marry Michael (this was in 1969 when the Jackson 5 came out with "I Want You Back"). I declared it just as all my fellow female classmates declared that they were going to marry him. On rainy days during recess in 4th grade we'd bust out "Rockin' Robin" and play it until our teacher couldn't stand it any more and made us take it off the turntable. On Saturday mornings there was the Jackson 5ive cartoon, which my brother and I always watched. Michael continued to be a part of my life when the movie Ben came out. My mom would not let me see it, I was 10, and she thought it was morbid, but I sure did buy the record. And looking back on it, Ben was the hit single, but "We've Got a Good Thing Going" was the one I played over and over and over.

At 16 Michael was there with me when I entered a disco dance concert at Rancocas Valley Regional High to "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough" from his stellar Off The Wall. I don't remember if I placed at all, but I had so much fun I don't think I cared one way or another. It was 1978, I was rocking my wine-colored Quiana disco dress and high-heeled black patent leather strappy sandals, and Michael was killing it!

Michael knocked me out when he showed up on MTV, the first black performer to do so. I was 20 or 21 when "Thriller" debuted, a 12-minute video (unheard of then) that I made a date to see. I was an official adult and Michael had been with me through my entire childhood.

So it is there I'm going to leave him, at the dawn of my adulthood. Let's remember the time and smile.

Been Away

I've been away since February, mostly because I am now working regularly on the blog for the magazine I work for, American Legacy. When I can balance writing for the both that blog and this, I will be back!

The Soul Inside

It's black history month, six days in, and not a morsel from Gotham City Soul. Now that I'll be writing a blog for my magazine's Web site, I'm more inclined to veer toward other definitions of soul here. So I'm leaving black history and culture and New York City and American soul for parts varied, strange, and sometimes unknown (at least by me) to examine the spirit of things, go to places that may not be pretty, or especially pleasant all of the time, but will surely move you. It is my hope that you will be moved to movement.

The House Is Black/خانه سیاه است

A month or so ago I came upon a mini Iranian film festival on public television. There were two short films by Mohsen Makhmalbaf, The School That Was Blown Away (1996), and Images from the Qajar Dynasty (1992). But there was also a film that was something beautiful and terrible all at once, The House is Black (Khaneh siah ast in Farsi) created in 1962 by a woman I had not known of until now: a renowned Persian poet named Forough Farrokhzad.

Essentially, The House is Black is a documentary of a leper colony, an awful thing given beauty and humanity by Farrokhzad. In 1962 there were two drugs, Promin and Dapsone, used with limited and painful success, but a true treatment wasn’t developed until the 1970s. It is clear that even the earlier treatments did not make their way to this desolate colony in Iran. Still, with her unflinching shots of these afflicted people as they go about their daily lives, breathtaking is the scene of a woman applying eyeliner, and another combing her long beautiful hair—believing still in the beauty they lost, or might have once had, had they not caught the disease—Farrokhzad challenges us to not feel sorry for them even though they are clearly disfigured and indigent. All of the flickering black and white images are deeply affecting by themselves, but coupled with lines from the Koran, and Farrokhzad’s gorgeous poetry and this film is one that haunts. The House is Black is the only film ever made by Farrokhzad and is considered seminal to modern Iranian filmmaking.

Farrokhzad herself has an interesting story, having married against the wishes of her family, and divorced her husband (and being forced to hand over her only child, a son, to her husband’s family) to gain her independence. She went on to become a famed poet, but was considered a notorious woman for the lovers she took (even in pre Ayatollah Khomeini Iran, that sort of behavior in a woman was heavily discouraged). For more on Farrokhzad and samples of her poems go here to the Iran Chamber Society. I think they are quite wonderful. There is also Mirror of the Soul: The Forough Farrokhzad Trilogy (2002), a three part documentary on the poet directed by Nasser Saffarian that combines interviews with family and friends and footage of Farrokhzad shot by the famed Italian director Bernardo Bertolucci. You can rent this on netflix, or purchase it through the usual suspects.

As to her one and only film you can see it on youtube, but I would suggest renting it (it’s available on netflix and online at blockbuster) or ordering it, if you’d like it in your collection. The quality will likely be better (it’s sometimes hard to read the subtitles) and the DVD comes with all three films mentioned above.

For those who want a taste

The Spirit of the Thing

I was in a marching band—a bigger bunch of spoiled and entitled kids you probably would not have met. We took our opportunity to play instruments and be in a band for granted. Not these kids. It's often when I wonder how some of my fellow Americans can possibly share the same citizenship with me. It's more rare that I'm glad to claim a kinship. These are one of of those times

This is the spirit of the thing, this impending presidency, this inauguration and I intend to savor this rare and gleaming moment for as long as I can. It may never come again in my lifetime.

Santa-dote

In an attempt to provide an antidote to some of the syrupy (and fake) nonsense that goes on at Christmas time, and to provide some dark humor for those out there who dread the holidays, I'm leaving our regularly scheduled program to bring you Santa-dote. Last year I wrote about St. Nicholas Day, and how it has a dark side (if you check that link out, take some time for David Sedaris's "Six to Eight Black Men"). This year Santa Claus, who is a direct American descendant of St. Nicholas, gets a bit of a drubbing. I have nothing against Santa, just think that if you look at him from a certain perspective, he can seem frightening, absurd, or just damn funny.


I had this conversation with my mom the other day where we were sort of taking issue with old Santa Claus. She said that nowadays they've got him running around Germany, amok, which would be fine with her, if he weren't an American invention. German kids are supposed to get their gifts from the Kristkind, the Christ Child, not a sometimes scary chuckling chubby man in a red suit. I mean, look at these guys: Would you want your kids sitting on their laps?

And because laughing at screaming kids sitting on Santa's lap never gets old (at least for me, who has no children, but I suspect there are some of you out there with children who find it funny, too) here's a link to more.


For something higher up on the humor chain, listen to an excerpt from David Sedaris's Santaland Diaries at NPR. His version of "Away in the Manger" sung like Billie Holiday is worth the listen.


That's all I have. Enjoy!

No Disrespect to Charles M. Schulz

But this is just fun! Enjoy.