Monthly Archives: April 2010

9 Things Every Black Man Should Own

Luke Cage exactly five seconds after he found out Wolverine used his Andis T-Outliner to manscape his chest hair.



  1. A belt. Look Man-Man, I don’t know if your daddy any body told ever told you this, but you aren’t walking around the yard during rec time anymore, wear a belt. Wear it in the correct position. Yes Man-Man, by “correct position” I mean around your waist.
  2. An Andis T-Outliner. Trust me, it will be the best $43-$54 you’ll ever spend. Throw in a bottle of oil, and $20 for a new set of blades every six months and you’re set. Why? Because I’m pretty sure no one wants you walking around looking an extra from Dolemite or a 1970’s NFL lineman, that’s why. You don’t have to cut the beard off, just maintain the sonofab***h. Which leads me to number 3.
  3. Bump Patrol. “But Wu Young, it burns.”  Yeah, it does burn. It burns like peeing the Tuesday morning after  Black Bike Week, but in the words of Walt Kowalski in Gran Torino, “Quit being a p****.” Trust me hoss, no one wants to see you strolling around where ever it is that you stroll around with the back of your neck or face looking like Normandy beach at sundown on June 6th 1944.
  4.  A shovel. You never know when you may get a call in the middle of the night from one of your boys and the  words “dead hooker” may be spoken. Do you know anyone who owns a pig farm? I don’t, so buy a damn shovel and get some lime, and plastic sheeting while you’re at it.
  5. A tape measure. You never know when you have to do pull a Overton Wakefield Jones around the house or dig a grave for the aforementioned dead hooker. Methinks it’s hard to eyeball a four to six-foot deep grave in the middle of the night.
  6. Condoms The world really isn’t ready for Tyree “Lil Man-Man” Jordan II. Hell, you aren’t ready for Tyree “Lil Man-Man”Jordan II. Your moms, Peaches is only 35 and she really doesn’t want to be a two-time grandmother at 35. As a matter of fact, there are at least 11 public school teachers who lay awake at night, shook bythe thought of having to try to teach Tyree “Lil Man-Man” Jordan II long-division. Cover it up a**hole.
  7. An article of clothing that must be dry-cleaned You know for job interviews and church and sh*t.
  8. A well-round music collection (Insert snobbery here.) Sometimes, just sometimes you have to listen to something other than rap, r&b, gospel, or whatever your thing is. It won’t hurt. Try it out you just might like it.
  9. A f***in’ library card A fan of Iceberg Slim, but you don’t have any cash to go to Barnes & Nobles? Need to know how to change the fuel filter in your 96 Ford Crown Vic? (Yes, Man-Man I’m talking to you.) Sh*t you can even set up a MySpace page for your sh*tty-a** rap group! Solutions to all these problems and more can be answered at your public library.

 These are 9 things that a brother should own. Can you come up with anymore?


The Pursuit of Happiness (I’ll be fine once I get it, I’ll be good.)

Why don't the voices in your head ever tell you to do nice things for people?

” Men hide their emotions. You bury yours, Keith Marcus” Charlene (as portrayed by Joy Bryant in “Get Rich or Die Tryin'”)  

I’ve been blogging off and on for about five years now and I covered a wide range of topics. I’ve talked about arguments between homophobic crackheads on the train in Charlotte, numerous postings about my random thoughts, and even my issues with church. You name it and I’ve blogged about it. There is one topic that I’ve never touched. One thing that scares me.  

 It’s M.E. I have no idea how to handle my emotions or feelings so I choose to keep them to myself. I’m honestly somewhat of a mess upstairs and I have no idea why. I simply do not have the ability to emote my deepest feelings.  

 *Scene from “Get Rich or Die Tryin'”* I’ll paraphrase b/c I only watched this crap once.  

 Charlene (Joy Bryant’s talentless a**)  speaking to Marcus (50 Cent) So this is how it’s gonna be now?  

 Marcus: Sits silently and makes the 50 Cent Face while desperately trying to convey emotion.  

 Charlene (Raising voice): So this is how it’s gonna be now Marcus?  

 Marcus: Sits silently and makes the 50 Cent Face again while desperately trying to convey emotion.  

Well folks that’s pretty much how a conversation about my emotions would go, goes, has went, and so on, well that is if I could talk about my emotions.  

Long story short your friendly neighborhood Agent of M.E. has some deep-rooted mental blocks when it comes to talking about the important sh*t between my ears. The things that matter most in the minds of adults. The things you share with the person you’re in love with. Quite frankly (no Stephen A.) it’s a hinderance to my future and I think it’s time I deal with “it” before I go any further.  

 “Let me start from the beginning, at the top of the list. Know what I mean, have a situation like this…”  

Sorry about that, I flashed back to ’95. So I’m 30 years old and I’ve only shed tears approximately three or four times since October of 1996. This was at the funeral of my first cousin who died the fall of our senior year of high school. She passed away that October and we were up for parole going to graduate in May of the next year. My cousin’s funeral was on a Sunday and I honestly think I cried enough that day that I ran out of tears. I can’t explain why but it would be years before I could bring myself to shed tears again. I never gave it much thought and simply choked it up to “I have nothing to cry about.” From the time of my cousins funeral to my next shedding of tears, I attended the funerals of two grandparents, dealt parental illness, juggled the random stresses of being a black man in South Carolina, and not a single drop.  

It wasn’t until I was experiencing a bit of domestic strife that my next tears were shed. They were brief and heart-felt, but I actually managed to cry in front of Miss Moneypenny for the first time. I actually think this came as much of a shock to her as it did to me. In the back of my mind I was thinking “Oh sh*t, this is actually happening.” This was a rare moment for me, but unfortunately not any sort of break through.  

It was also during this time that I realized that I do have issues with depression. I wouldn’t call them major, but depression is depression in my book. I just can’t fathom being a little bit depressed. (I guess this is like being a half-way crook or being a little pregnant.)  

So what’s my point?  

I’m just cold. Sure I laugh. I smile. I get sad. I feel anger, not James Evans mad, but regular everyday mad. Still, after all the emotions my feelings always seem to be limited. In moderation to a point that they don’t really come out.  

The other night I was asked a series of questions. All of the questions were about me. Questions about my emotions, feelings, and other sh*t that for some reason that I’m not equipped to deal with. With each question asked all I could do is just sit there, just like 50’s non-acting a**. I’m searching withing myself for what to say, how to feel, and I can’t come up with sh*t. I struggled to form my mouth to say what’s on my mind, but nothing came out. I like to refer to this as a state of emotional paralysis: sure the feelings are happening, but you cannot act upon them. You’re just there. How do you wake up from that? How do you emotionally take your first step after being frozen?  

Why? What in the hell is wrong with me that I can’t carry out a basic human function? If I were to say what’s actually going on in my large-a** skull would I be perceived as nuts? Angry? Weird? I don’t have a single answer to any of these question. Hell, I’m still been trying to figure out where to begin. Needless to say I really need to start figuring this sh*t out because I’ve got to much to lose if I don’t.

Random Thoughts:10 things that are guaranteed to make me smile

*Side note* I really curse a lot in my blogs don’t I?

Oh well, f**k it!

Contrary to what my co workers may think I do actually smile from time to time. There are things that will put a smile on my mug, no matter how juvenile, every single time I gaze upon, stumble across, or hear them.

Here they are:

  1. Monkeys. Apes, gorillas, chimps, and the like absolute funniest animals on the planet outside of humans. They can actually make slinging poop funny. The bigger the monkey the harder I smile.*In Cal Naughton Jr’s voice* “I like to imagine that monkeys talk to each other when people ain’t around. ‘Cept they don’t sound like you and me, they sound like their from England. You know they all talk like James Bond or that Austin Powers fella.”
  2. 2 Live Crew songs. I don’t quite know why, but I find most of their songs to be a hilarious look into the mind of a ninja from Florida. Luther Campbell is a true American scum bag and the country is better for it. *Side note* I seriously want an answer to this question: Why was the Chinese cat in 2 Live Crew’s arm always in a cast? That sh*t has been puzzling me for almost two decades.
  3. The Keenen Ivory Wayan’s Arsenio Hall skits from “In Living Color“. That finger. Those teeth. Whenever that sh*t crosses my mind I have to go around the corner and say “Party all the time! Party all the time!” under my breath. Besides it was one of these skits where he put the phrase “bad mamma jamma” into my lexicon. Thank you Keenen!
  4. The following words: “bad mamma jamma” “m***erf***er” “gaggle” “doppelgänger” and “triskaidekaphobia”.
  5. The muppets. “Pigs in Space” “Kermit singing “It’s Not Easy Being Green” or “The Rainbow Connection” are all my sh*t. (Apparently somewhere deep in my subconscious, I have the mind of a four-year old.)
  6. Learning a new racial epithet. I know it sounds kind of really bad, but for some reason I find racial slurs funny as hell when used for comedic purposes. For instance while I was watching “Black Dynamite” I cracked up when Pat Nixon called Black Dynamite a “moon cricket” for breaking the presidential china collection. Another favorite was when an Indian comedian on HBO’s last attempt at “Def Comedy Jam” used the term “Mondays” as code for black people. (Example usage: Everybody hates Mondays.)
  7. Floyd Mayweather Jr’s family. Floyd Sr and uncle Roger Mayweather are a constant source of comedy. Floyd Sr speaks the same language that James Brown did and Roger a/k/a the  Black Mamba’s missing teeth are somewhere in a cave with Tupac and Bin Laden. Cocaine is a helluva a drug.
  8. Michael Irvin. Terrible suits, multiple arrests, cocaine, crack cocaine, a ton of football talent and knowledge, and the propensity to run off with the mouth make watching or listening to the playmaker well worth it.
  9. Wanna be thugs. A kid sitting next to me the other day in the public bibliotheque was doing his best Omar Little impression, but he made on crucial mistake: His iPod was turned up so loud that I could clearly tell that he was listening to Justin Timberlake. Sensitive thugs y’all need hugs.
  10. When newscasters try to pronounce ethnic names. It never fails, every time the white anchors on ABC’s World News Tonight try to pronounce John Quinones’ name they make an attempt to sound Spanish. Instead they end up sounding like high school Spanish students. Kind of  sad, but really damn funny.

Vaya con Dios Black Man,Vaya con Dios (The, they think we suck blog.)



That’s right Freddie, you weren’t sh*t either.


Pssst! Pssst! 

Want to know a little secret? 

*Looking around to see who’s watching.* 

I’m a black man. 

Yep, I’m a black man. The same as my daddy, his daddy, and his daddy’s daddy before him. 

Want to know who else is? 

Barack Hussein Obama. 

Bill Cosby. 

Colin Powell. 

The dude with the crazy eyes who flushed your transmission last Tuesday. 

That cat who boosted your iPod out of your Corolla after one Hennessy to many. 

For better of for worse all of these cats are black men. 

According to the 2000 Census there were close to 17 million of us. (Of course you can give or take a few since then because we lost James Brown, Ray Charles, your two cousins who got shot at Man-Man’s house party, and that UPS guy who wandered in to Zed’s pawn shop.) Back to my point there are a lot black men in the ole U.S of A, and we simply cannot be avoided unless you live in one of those gated neighborhoods, or you’re Richard Branson and you have your own spaceship. (This may not be true because some rapper may move in next door. In the case of the space ship Levar Burton and that dude who plays Mr. Worf may just integrate things on your block.) 

For the past few years it has been black women who have been thrust into the spot light. More specifically highly educated “successful” black women. It seems that “successful” black women are having time of it when it comes to finding spouses who are on equal footing with them academically, financially, and every other capacity imaginable. The media, mildly humorous comedians, reality television producers, and Booger from “He Got Game” have all been spending a lot of time meting out advice to the single, sexy,  and educated black women of the world who are trying to get their “Michele Obama” on. 

This may be crass on my part, but I really couldn’t give four sh*ts either way, because Miss Moneypenny is well, Miss Moneypenny. Because of Miss Moneypenny’s inherent Miss Moneypennyness I have been blessed with the opportunity to tune out the why the above mentioned single, sexy, and educated sisters cannot find true love panel discussions between a thrice-divorced schmuck in an ugly suit who needs to trim his mustache, two black women with five doctorates between them, and Booger from “He Got Game”. I can gladly say that I’m a better man for not listening to the  “Why can’t I find a man?/Here’s why you can’t find a man.” conversations but I’ve learned one thing from the few times I have listened. It’s brief, rather subliminal, and fully disheartening message: 

Black men ain’t sh*t!!! 


*I’m looking at you Leroy and Skillet. Same goes for you Jamal. Most of the Miami Heat too.(I’ll include the Puerto Rican cat for good measure.)* 

I may be reaching here, but from the conversations I’ve heard this is what the panelists are saying without really saying. Fellas I hate to break it to you, but you ain’t sh*t. Not worth a plug nickel.(Seriously, I’ve always heard that term, but does anyone know what a plug nickel is?) I won’t take up a lot of your time today and you can go back to eating your chicken, selling crack to kids, lamenting on why your rap career never took off, making babies that you’ll never take care, or whatever it you were doing. Just hear me out. 

During these roundtable discussions our massive levels of suckage is always implied by all those involved, but the fact that the media, the panelists, and Dr. Dana with all of the degrees think we suck is never spoken. *Could you imagine if Fox News did a “Why are successful black women single?” panel? That could possible rival  both “The Flavor of Love” and “The Birth of a Nation” as the most racist thing ever video recorded.* 

Is our unspoken suckage is so bad that we should just send all of the lonely, educated black women to Robert De Niro’s house. I heard he’s got your back. Seriously, I know that black men don’t attend or graduate college at a rate as high of that of black women, but this entire topic reeks of skullduggery and shenanigans. Not to make it about us, but if there are so many lonely, highly educated black women shouldn’t their male counterparts have the same issues? (DO NOT come with that weak-ass “their with a white girl” argument either. Please check out number five from one my earlier posts this week. ) 

As you can tell I’m a little vexed about who brothers are being portrayed in these conversations so my question is to my reader(s) is this: Am I reaching a little when I say that the countless Nightline reports, Newsweek articles, and stories from other media outlets are subliminally saying that we suck? 

I don’t think I’m reaching at all. We aren’t perfect, but I am somebody and God don’t make no junk so I know I ain’t wack. 

Let me know and if you think I’m wrong I’ll shut up. If you agree, tell me why. 



But he’s got a lot of heart!?!?! (The don’t write a check with your mouth that your a** can’t cash blog.)

This morning I was listening to ESPN’s Mike and Mike in the morning and Dick Vitale dropped in to do his usual Tuesday morning guest spot. He’s loud, abrasive, bald, pulls for Notre Dame , has firmly implanted of in Mike Krzyzewski’s gastrointestinal tract, and he knows a ton about sports. I’ve disagreed with Dickie V before but this morning he said something that I just couldn’t agree with: He told Mike Golic that University of Florida quarterback and candidate for sainthood, Tim Tebow should get drafted in the NFL because of his “heart”.

Lat week The Champ wrote a blog over at entitled “the 10 most overrated things… ever” that chronicled things ranging for beer to orgasms as things he deemed overrated. He then opened the floor of the church for the readers to list things that they thought got to much shine. Things like Drake, Southern California’s football team, and Las Vegas all made the reader’s overrated list.

Until I heard Dickie V say Saint Timothy should get drafted because of his “heart” I didn’t consider heart as an overrated quality. So are we to believe that NFL owners or any other businessman or woman is going to hire a high dollar employee because he or she has heart?  Don’t get me wrong, a ton of heart in a person or people can get you a long way in the world. (see the Viet Cong) After thinking about it for a few hours I came to the conclusion that yes, heart is an excellent personality trait,  but if you don’t have the complete skill set, a solid foundation, and the proper acumen heart will only lead you to realize that you’re in over your head. Trust me “over your head” isn’t the address where you want to live.

Here are a few examples of what happens when having “heart” isn’t enough to get the job done.

Belgium, August  – September 1914

So that I don’t go all History 102 on y’all a**es here’s the long and the short of it. The Europeans had this nasty little habit of slaughtering each other every few decades up back in the day and the another slaughter was on the schedule for 1914. The Germans and the French were really pissed at each other over this cat named Franz-Ferdinand getting Abraham Lincolned in Sarajevo while attending a parade with the wifey. So zie Germans were looking to go see the French and tell them all of the whys and wherefores. There was a slight problem, zie German border with France was heavily defended so they weren’t really interested in going all 12 rounds with France to get to Paris.  This is where Belgium comes into play. Belgium didn’t want anything to do with any of the slaughter so they clung to their neutrality. (Besides, the Belgians where happy eating waffles and making a mess out of the Congo.) The leader of Germany, Kaiser Wilhelm II called his cousin King Albert I of Belgium and asked if he would allow his boys to pass through Belgian territory to go see the French.

Albert was like, “Nah son. We just trying to eat these waffles and exploit the sh*t of these Africans son.”

Grabbing his crotch, Kaiser Wilhelm II was like, “Swear to god son. Stop acting like a little b***h and let my people pass through. We trying to pull these French cats skirts up for real. You need to get down or lay down.”

Thinking he couldn’t get punked by his big cousin, Albert was like “You see a b***h, slap a b***h!”

Needless to say a b***h was seen and a b***h was slapped. Luckily for King Albert I his other big cousin, King George VIII of England rushed to defend him and his nation. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because cousin Wilhelm II f***ed things up, which was going to make the fish fry at the next family reunion really, really, awkward.

*side note, these quotes are from the actually telegraph transcripts between Albert I and Wilhelm II.* True story.

Belgium then braced itself for the zie German onslaught. She showed a helluva a lot of heart, but Belgium had no business getting in to the ring with Germany. It got ugly, and by ugly I mean Aunt Ester ugly. Known as the Rape of Belgium, German troops burned books, towns, villages, Belgians, and anything else that could burn until they got tired.

So in the end all Belgium got for having “heart” and nothing to back it up was a a**whooping for the ages.

Sarah Palin’s Vice Presidential run

I could prove my point by typing “epic fail” but I’ll explain. Big John McCain went out to search for a vp nominee and somebody convinced him to pick Sarah of Wasilla. Since the Democrats raised the bar with an actual black man and a woman with enough experience and pants suits to shut them down, the GOP returned the favor by giving the people Sarah Palin, the Governor of Alaska and all around turd of a candidate. Looking like a strange combination of Tina Fey and Peggy Hill, Palin gave McCain’s campaign new life. Until she started speaking.

Obviously lacking in the talent and experience department all McCain’s campaign could talk about was how feisty, and tough Sarah Palin was. The more the curtain was pulled back the more she hid behind soft ball questions and catchy phases like “You betcha.” Soon after the McCain run for president was crushed under the weight of Palin’s heart hype.

Preston “Bodie” Broadus

“Bodie, look behind you.”

Were my words to as the Wire’s Preston “Bodie” Broadus caught one in the back of his head from the kid who looked like Chil Ali’s baby cousing during the fourth season of the Wire. Bodie played his role well while working for the Barksdales. He worked as a corner boy in the pit and even stepped up and killed his own friend Wallace when the organization needed him eliminated. After the Barksdale crew had their run ended by Stringer Bell’s death and a massive wave of arrests that sent Avon to jail, this left Marlo Stansfield’s vampiric(so not a word) a** in charge of the bulk of Baltimore’s drug game. Bodie soon found himself as a man without a country after standing tall for a crew that had ceased to exist.

Bodie pushed through, buying from Marlo’s people who were growing increasingly more violent toward independents and other larger dealers. After his boy is killed by Marlo’s crew Bodie is then accused of snitching. Knowing his days were number and not having the man power or resources to mount a proper defense, Bodie still showed just how much heart he had and stood tall when the rest of his crew bailed.

I’ve listed three instances where having “heart” has proved to be detrimental. Sure Palin is raking in the cash, but she’s a polarizing side-show that will never get elected again. If you can name some more times where having heart just wasn’t enough to get the job done.

“I’m Gifted Unlimited aw f*** the rest you n*****s know me”

R.I.P Guru

Random Thoughts

  1. The god awful concoction above is a Four Loco. I had no idea what a Four Loco was until about three weeks ago when my little big sister, Dale asked me about it. Apparently Four Lokos  Loki contain 11% alcohol per volume, have various fruity flavors, and caffeine to make a night out with your peeps, homies, dunnies, or whatever you people call yourselves these days more action packed. From what I can tell Four Loko is basically a Steel Reserve (8.1% alcohol per volume) 211 on steroids which a much pleasant personality. I have yet to tasted one yet but I’m sure it’s the malt liquor version of KFC’s Double Down sandwich. (You just swap out the hypertension you get with the Double Down with five minutes in a truck stop bathroom with Ben Roethlisberger.) If alcoholic drinks had theme songs I’m pretty sure Four Loko’s would be “Gimme That” by Lil Boosie and Lil Webbie.
  2. “Have you seen Why Did I Get Married?” My older, white coworker asked me the other day. She then went on to HIGHLY recommended it to me and tell me how great the acting and story is. I honestly died a little inside and would have shed a Denzel tear, if I could cry that is.
  3. Sunday morning I decided I want my country back. From whom I will be taking it back from I don’t know but I would like it back.
  4. According to the new book “The History of White People” by Nell Irvin Painter all homo sapiens share 99.99 % of the same genetic code-no matter their race.
  5. This is probably old news to some, but according to the last census (2000) 92 % of black people who are married, are married to another black person. Yep.


I’m having a Double Down, a side of large potato wedges and a Four Loko of dinner tonight so this might be the end of your friendly neighborhood Agent of M.E.

*Tune in next time for “What ever happened to Wu Young?”*

‘Preciate It Mister Robinson


Today, April 15th 2010,  is an important day in the history of both Major League Baseball and the United States. It marks the 63rd anniversary of Jack Roosevelt Robinson breaking baseball’s long-standing, self-imposed color barrier. This was one of rare occurences of a sporting event has acted as a milestone for a social movement      

Jackie Robinson was more than a baseball pioneer. It is debatable that Robinson may have been one of the most important Americans to live last century. If such a list is ever compiled, Robinson should be on it.       

A close look at Robinson’s life would reveal many instances of greatness that would seem surreal it were a work of fiction. During his life he was many things: A four sport All-American at UCLA, a Buffalo Soldier, a tank commander, a civil-rights pioneer, a college athletic director, and a decent middle infielder.       

Robinson, along with future black professional football pioneers Kenny Washington and Woody Strode (Both men would briefly integrate pro football.) would make up the first all black offensive back field at a major predominately white university.       

After college Robinson would be drafted into the United States Army and would become a member of the 9th Calvary Regiment (Buffalo Soldiers) at Ft. Riley, Kansas. Robinson along with several other members of the 9th Calvary would apply to the Army’s Officers Candidate School only to have their applications delayed. At this point Robinson and his fellow applicants would cross paths with Joe Louis, boxing’s heavyweight champion, who was also stationed at Ft. Riley. Joe Louis would intervene on behalf of the soldiers and they were accepted into OCS. Upon receiving his commission as a 2nd lieutenant, Robinson would be stationed at Ft. Hood, Texas and join the 761st Tank Battalion. Unbeknownst to Robinson, Ft Hood would be the sight of his first foray into the American Civil Rights movement when he would refuse to move to the back of a segregated bus on the basis of him being a commissioned army officer. With the commander of the 761st, Paul L. Bates refused to court-martial Robinson, the fort’s commander would transfer Robinson to another battalion to insure Robinson’s prosecution by another commander. Although Robinson would be acquitted by an all while panel, he would miss the deployment of his former unit that would go on to make history themselves.     

After holding several jobs Robinson would begin a baseball career in 1946 when Branch Rickey signed him to a professional contract. This would lead him to the day that today marks. He would take the field as a first basemen for the Brooklyn Dodgers, becoming the first black professional Major League Baseball player since the 1880’s. Bigger than baseball, April 15th would be one of several building blocks to social equality in this country. President Harry S. Truman would sign Executive Order 9819 the next year, ordering the integration of the military forces of the United States. Public school systems, universities, and various institutions long mired in segregation all would begin to integrate within the next two decades. Although he wasn’t the sole reason, Jackie Robinson’s decision to swing a back should be celebrated by more than just Major League Baseball, which today sadly is only 9 – 10 % black.  


The Fear

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.


Human beings have been blessed/ cursed with a vast range of emotions. (They make you cry sometimes.) Theres love, happiness, and sadness. I could go on but those are just a few. Each of the emotions that I just named also have varying layers that make each specific feeling more nuanced. All emotions are complex and each can get the best of you if you let them.

Few emotions are as complex as fear. Fear, one of the most primal of the emotions, is nuanced like the other emotions. Fear has the ability to warn us when were in trouble, allowing our latent primal instincts to kick in to help us survive. There is what could be called a healthy fear which keeps us from being idiots and getting involved in otherwise stupid or detrimental endeavors. (Car theft, drug dealing, or marrying an NBA player to name a few.) The most dangerous of all types of fear is irrational fear.

Irrational fear has caused vast amounts of destruction from the time we came out the primordial gumbo and began to walk upright. Irrational fear causes ideas such as National Socialism to thrive. Irrational fear has the ability to cause reasonably sane people to do and say things they normally wouldnt. Irrational fear causes dangerous paradigm shifts that open the door for the cessation of normal human civility and the spread of anger. Once anger settles in hate and suffering are never far behind. (See how I linked that to one of coolest little people ever.)

When I go home at night and flip through the various nightly news shows, I notice one thing: A good portion of the population is angry. Where does this anger stem from? Fear, thats where. Many Americans are afraid of something. Change. The future. Taxes. Healthcare. Obamas plans of taking their guns. These are just shoots in the dark when it comes to reasons. Sooner or later the fear and anger that I see on the news will manifest itself into full-blown hate. By the time hate shows up its usually too late.

This isnt a new phenomenon in this country. From time to time when things got bad for one group or another (Or everybody) we take the time to treat each other like crap just because were afraid. Heres are a few examples of what fear can do to the American populous:

The treatment of free blacks post reconstruction in the south is my first example of what fear can do to those who let that fear turn to hate. Two of South Carolinas governors, Wade Hampton and Pitchfork Ben Tillman both supported state sanction terrorism for on purpose: hatred of blacks. This hatred stemmed from nothing but fear. In this case the fear of a former piece of their property looking them in the eye and viewing them as an equal.

*Side note*the irrational fear and hatred of blacks was backed by stereotypes that were present from the time the first African slaves arrived in the Diaspora. D.W. Griffiths film The Birth of a Nation is a prime example of the irrationality of this fear. *

The Grapes of Wrath was fictional account of the treatment of Americans by their fellow citizens during an era when the nation found itself in dire financial straights. The experiences of the Joad family and other Okies on their way to California during the Great Depression was another example of how the fear of outsiders and the impoverished manifests itself. 

Japanese-American citizens on the west coast found themselves interned for the duration of the Second World War because they had a common link ancestral link with Americas enemy. As insane as it sounded many Americans believed that their Nisei and Sansei neighbors who paid their taxes and worked alongside them for years were all an internal force of guerilla fighters for the Imperial Japanese Empire.

In the past decade the fearful thoughts of the uninformed have been slowly making a foothold in the brains of many Americans without reason. With the election of Barack Obama as president Ive heard all manner of ridiculous ideas brought to the forefront.

There are the Birthers who claim the president was not born in the United States. Any rationale to support their argument is vague and borderline foolish.

At the forefront of the fear and hate movement are the Tea Baggers. Modeling themselves loosely after the colonists who carried out the Boston Tea Party (Kind of foul that they dressed up as native Americans.) The Tea Baggers claim to promote the defense of the Constitution and fiscal conservatism, which is fine if thats your thing, but their protests are usually just loud and filed with various vitriolic statements about the Federal government. I just find it funny that they werent around during the past decade when the country started going to sh*t.

Without having to use citations from the DSM-IV and writing a full on college paper I just want to know why is it do people allow themselves to be mislead by misleading or slanted information without using common sense? Yes were having a time of it and the last two to three years have been rough, but it hasnt been rough enough (In my opinion.) to cause us to lose our minds. A foreign power is not foolish enough to infringe on our borders. We are not committing sanctioned acts of genocide against our native population. The black population is no longer chattel and Im counted as whole man. We are not embroiled in a Civil War. We are not in a depression, great or otherwise. The Germans and the Japanese arent ravaging the globe. The communists filed for Chapter 11 two decades ago. Finally, minorities and women all have the proper opportunities to take part in business, government, and any other inalienable right.

In spite of this the fear still seems to be winning out. Making otherwise reasonable (Maybe not.) people do and say unreasonable things. As a whole have we gotten that soft and thickheaded that we cant discuss issues of importance without displaying a taking our ball and going home attitude?

Irrational fear is something else isnt it? Staying informed is my only answer to the problem. Dont get all of your information from one source either. Learn how to look for credible sources and listen to reasonable people who are qualified to speak on the topics. Thats the only way to keep irrational fear and its friends anger, hate, and suffering at bay.

Lastly, listen to your corner and watch for the hook.

Some Ole Themeless Ish a/k/a Random Thoughts

My name is Wu Young. Where I’m from? A little town called None of your ****** Business.

Way back when I was a very young Agent of M.E. I would occasionally shoot off random e-mails to my friends and family who were dumb enough to have wanted to stay in contact with me. These e-mails usually contained five to ten lines or comments of me just rambling about crap that I saw around the office or the utter bull in between my ears. Today is a nice day so I decided I wanted that old thing back so as an homage to my former foolishness, I give you Random Thoughts. Your welcome. Now enjoy your pancakes b****es.

  1. When is the right time to tell you coworkers that you don’t  want to see the pictures of what or who they did over the weekend? What is the right way to show someone you don’t care?
  2. Glenn Beck called Tyler Perry his hero due to Perry’s ability to combine entertainment and enlightenment (remember both are subjective) in his work. Beck wondered “How is it I don’t know this man? How is it we are not friends?” I’ll answer that for you Glenn while you erase your chalk board. You two aren’t friends because there is a God, and God has our best interests at heart so he’s keeping you and Tyler apart. *side note* Glenn Beck is a recovering coke head. Does working around a chalk board make him fiend for that booger sugar?
  3. This may actually be a good Spring/Summer for hip hop:  Raekwon, Ghostface, and Method Man’s, B.o.B, Little Brother, Pharoahe Monch, Murs & 9th Wonder, Guilty Simpson, Big Boi (Can we seriously get a new Kast cd?), Reflection Eternal, The Black Keys, and Common all have new product out or about to  come out. This could be interesting.
  4. KFC has designed a sandwich (I guess) that will finally destroy man as we know it. Known as the Double Down, this monstrosity just forgoes the bread and uses meat as the bread. I’m rather fond of chicken of the fried variety but this is scary.
  5. Ben Roethlisberger did that sh*t. I can’t prove it, but he did it.
  6. For those of you with daughters please have them watch one episode of “Basketball Wives” on VH1 and then inform them to conduct their lives completely opposite from what they just saw.

Take care, I’m heading to KFC for a Double Down combo and some sweet tea.

*Tune in next time for “Whatever Happened to Wu Young?* or “Don’t Yell Get Mad at Me Because You Weren’t Raised Right!”*

Snobbery, Everybody’s Doing It.

During the course of my work day I find myself stuck at my desk  causing my 7.5 hours to seem longer than they actually are. To make things worse I have this thing about complete silence that drives me crazy. To alleviate the loud silences I listen to ESPN Radio, NPR, or whatever crap any of the local mafia radio stations are playing at the time. To be safe and not have to explain a song to 50 something housewives who loiter  in my area  for to long I usually just listen to ESPN.

Sports radio hosts are just like other disc jockeys “on air personalities” (I honestly think there should be more disc jockeys. Then maybe, just maybe the radio wouldn’t sound like a broken record. Seriously, have you ever heard anyone sing “Last night an on air personality saved my life from a broken heart”? Come the f*ck on.) have their quirks to draw in the listeners. One personality on ESPN, Colin Cowherd’s schtick is that he intentionally comes off as an elitist deuce/shock jock. During the three-hour time length of his show Cowherd usually draws the ire of a few of his listeners because he has no problem disagreeing with them. Once he disagrees with them he will, in the most condescending way possible tell them that he knows more about the topic du jour than they do because of the extensive research that he and his staff does. He is fond of using the motto “I am research.”  When his audience reacts to declarations like this via e-mail or phone call, it’s almost guaranteed that someone will call Colin Cowherd a snob. When this happens he then retorts with “Well, everybody is a snob about something.”

For someone who looks like the ShamWow guy he nailed it. Every single homo sapiens on the planet is a snob about something that they hold near and dear to them. Sure you may partake in something if your options are limited but if Joe and Jane Public had their druther the would remain as inflexible as possible about their choices. Me, myself, personally have several things that I’m a snob about. Why? Because that’s why?

Here are three things that I will turn my nose up at if I don’t feel they meet my standards:

College Football

I’m a very southern man and we southerners are really into football. We watch all types but there’s nothing better than watching college football on a Saturday. That being said, I prefer to watch team from the south or the southwest play. More specifically, teams from the SEC. Sure the Southern California’s of the world play at a high level, but it isn’t the same. I’m such a snob about college football that I have tiers or southern football teams that I will spend time watching. If I were given the choice of watching two lower-rung SEC teams like Mississippi State and South Carolina play each or watching two top-ranked ACC teams like Georgia Tech and Clemson play I’m probably going to watch the Bulldogs and the Thunder Chickens. It just feels more like football. The Big Ten game that ESPN shoves down the throats of the rest of the nation at noon on Saturdays will promptly be switched to another channel. Minnesota Golden Gophers… the Big Ten teams might as well wear sweaters and leather helmets when then play.  Anything other than southern college football just seems pedestrian.


My name is Wu Young, and I’m an addict. I don’t have very many vices. I curse and I enjoy a nice, strong, black woman cup of coffee every morning. (I almost got side-tracked for a moment there.) Just like any other addict, I prefer the best hit possible. I absolutely abhor weak-a** coffee. I’ll drink it if I have too, (We’ve got to keep the anger birds away.) but I view weak coffee as a survival mechanism. That’s right, no gas station coffee for me. Give me the darkest blends possible and I’m a happy man. It doesn’t matter if it’s from Avon Barksdale and Stringer Bell (Maxwell House and Folders), Tony Montana (Duncan Donuts), or Nino Brown (Starbucks)  the inner-beast is immediately calmed with the first steaming hot sip. I love it, I need it, I fiend for it,  and I rarely accept any substitutes. Good coffee is an essential part of my life. I like to have  the coffee that Jules and Jimmy were drinking while they were discussing dead n***er storage.

Hip Hop

To the surprise of many, I listen to many genres of music, but at heart I’m a hip hop head. (This may be the beginnings of an old man rant.) Due to the fact that I was a teen in the 1990’s I was blessed to have witnessed and listened to what some may call hip hop’s golden age. During that time I listened to tons of hip hop from all across the map, but I was really a fan of  East Coast and Southern hip hop. I just wasn’t feeling Deathrow like that. (Sure, I can name a lot of great west coast hip hop songs, but I would start to stray from my point.) Because there was so many dope artists and music at the time hip hop was easy to listen to. The Dungeon Family, Gangstarr, The Roots, Wu-Tang, Scarface (Shout out to my little big sister Dale for narcing the fellas and I out about that Ghetto Boys tape.), Biggie Smalls, Nas, The Native Tongues, and Mobb Deep furnished a big part of the soundtrack for my teenage years. Boom bap, jazz samples, that tick followed by that bump, and Premo scratching the living hell out of  chorus has made an absolute snob  out of your friendly neighborhood Agent of M.E. when it comes to rap music. Granted I’m not as bad as KRS-One but I’m pretty judgemental when it comes to rappers and mc’s. Err time I hear or read about MC Next Big Name, I scoff and shake my fist Abe Simpson style.  I guess this is same as my pops comparing all baseball players  to Willie Mays and Hank Aaron.

So those are three of the things that I’m a complete snob about. What are yours?

*Tune in next time for “Dear Love, It’s me Superhead” or “Why Sarah Palin is the most ghetto person in America? “*