The Importance of Having A White Dude Signing Your Checks Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Let me preface all of this by saying that nothing is more important than getting to the stage of going into business for self and signing your own checks (but I ain't on that... yet); however, I did have a little freelance/consulting thing going on for a minute and that gave me a lot of the experience of someone who runs their own full blown business.

Working for the establishment, while not giving you the greatest comfort in job security, does give you an ultra-secure feeling on payday. You are guaranteed to be paid for the work you did during the pay period. I learned from freelancing and consulting (I mainly worked with Black-ran nonprofits and the occasional White dude-ran operation) that on Fridays, White people got your money; Black people got excuses.

As Black people (raised on healthy amounts of Black pride and self-hatred; both taught by White schoolteachers), we learn at an early age not to do business with other Black people. We're taught that our own are always late, lazy, and lackadaisical; that doing any type of business with a White man is generally a more pleasant experience. So of course, with me rejecting most things that society has thrown my way in an elaborate game of Social Values Hot Potato, I brushed my shoulders off with that notion (odd as it seems, I didn't feel anymore like a pimp than I did before doing so; Jay Z is a liar in this regard).

That was until I became an adult and started doing business with my people.

This isn't an ode to White Jesus or anything, but more like a calling out of how we have to do better. I can't tell you how many times (actually I could; my Shit List record keeping is quite thorough like that) I've shown up to collect my dollars from a Black organization, only to be told that they ain't got it. Or worse, have one of these jigs straight try to avoid me; as if I would somehow forget I'm owed money. And the excuses I'm oftentimes given, generally speaking , have nothing to do with me.

This one guy I used to work for would straight up avoid his office on payday (good thing I know how to pawn seven year old office computers). Why do niggas think ain't nobody got bills to pay but them? And have they ever considered that the people they promised money to on payday are part of the bills they need to pay?

But now I work for the miseducation system where I'm sure there's some old White dude who, in between drawing up Willie Lynch-type educational policies and writing down the names of all the students he thinks would make excellent degree-seeking candidates for the Public School to County Jail Scholarship Program (free room AND board), finds the time to sign my damn checks.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta.

[Editor's Note: The only thing worse than working for my people, is working at an establishment whose accounting department is ran solely by White women who don't wear glasses; don't ask why, it just is.]

Ear Hustlin' Inside Scoop: More Layoffs Expected at the Chicago Tribune Before Christmas Tuesday, October 28, 2008

So for today (and today only, mind you), I decided to use my writing in a pseudo-serious manner. I ran into a guy this morning that has inside ties to the Chicago Tribune. Just having casual conversation, I asked him about potential openings in their editorial department. Now I knew beforehand about the eighty or so jobs they cut from editorial earlier this year, but I thought with the new design and new approaches to content, the Chicago Tribune was moving to a 'happier' place. Home slice (I told you I was only going to be pseudo-serious) informed me that not only were there no openings, but that the Chicago Tribune was on course to have another round of layoffs before the end of the year.

How Scrooge McDuck of them.

Now how true this guy's claim was needs to be put into several contexts. First, I must admit I left the crib looking a tad grimy today, so he could have quite possibly been sending me off as to not have a potential co-worker who dresses like a stick-up kid. Also, he could have been quoting speculation and hearsay (which are kinds of evidence) that is floating around the Chicago Tribune on an unfounded basis. However, his ties are with the finance department so if anyone would know first about the layoffs, it would be the dudes that count the money (on the days that Scrooge McDuck isn't swimming in it).

And there you have it, my big scoop. Good thing I don't own any Tribune stock, which is sure to plummet even more in the upcoming months if my source pans out.

Sarah Palin Gets Off Easy Tuesday, September 2, 2008

I can't help but feel that treatment of Sarah Palin's teenage daughter's pregnancy is somehow getting swept under the rug. In an age where we prosecute R and B singers for pissing on teenage girls (on a voluntary basis mind you), I knew for certain that a bigger stink would have been made of the fact that Sarah Palin's daughter, Bristol, is about to become a 'baby mama'. I had visions of John McCain either A. distancing himself and trying to renege on his VP pick or B. publicly offering to remedy the whole situation with his trusty wire-hanger that he affectionately refers to as 'Mama Nomoe'.

But alas, after the story came out the media immediately glossed over it. I'm sick of hearing '... she plans to marry the father of her baby'. NEWSFLASH: Every 'baby mama' thinks they're going to marry the father of their children, but having it actually happen is usually a different thing. Don't they have teenage broads on the talk show circuit all the time talking about how they are going to marry their 'baby daddy'?

People of America, you are now witnessing the first clue that this Sarah Palin may actually be white trash. The second clue is that she lives in Alaska.

I can't help but wonder would the story be handled the same if the Obamas' had a teenage daughter that was all preggers and whatnot. I am sure this would have cost him an election, and probably would have been the punchline of enough racial slurs to last us well into the next century. You must understand, that there exists masses of white people that are looking for a reason to not vote for Obama, even though they said they would. There's no poll to suggest this obviously, but I've overheard plenty of water cooler discussions to totally validate what I'm saying.

See when McCain chose a woman as his VP, then white people around the nation had a moment of relief because they had been offered an out. Now they can claim they are voting for McCain because he 'thought outside the box' (why is that such an 'inside the box' phrase?) by picking a woman; and they can still make history by electing the first woman VP.

Truthfully, I know more about monkey strains of human diseases than this chick knows about being the second in command of a damn country. Vote OBAMA 2008.

Never Work for An Old Black Guy Friday, August 8, 2008

I really have a love/hate affair with my own race (which is crazy, because I'm nowhere near light enough to pass for a white dude), but for the love of fried chicken; why can't we get it together on any level?

So after moving back into the heart of the city a little less than a year ago, I decided that I wanted to work for a community organization that focused on the African American community specifically; so I knew I would make slightly less than I would by working at Burger King, but a little more than I would by kicking shit at people who didn't fill my cup with their spare change. And I found a decent organization that does work for residents on the West Side of the city, but not because this dude knows how to run a business. He's a good dude to be sure, but shadier than Suge Knight discussing his whereabouts the night Biggie got shot. First of all, on payday this guy is mysteriously missing from the office so that he doesn't have to sign checks until after the bank closes.

Like today, I am waiting on him to return to the office with a client's receipt so that I can collect money from the client and bring it back to the office for my cut of the revenue. There's about an hour left before the bank closes and I have the strangest feeling that my boss will come walking in about five minutes after that. I don't know what's important to him, but I need my damn money. Not to mention, usually if I need him to return to the office to handle important client related issues, I already know that whatever time he says he'll return, to go ahead and tack about 45 minutes on to that. He pays his staff in promises, peanuts, and free copies of a free newspaper (I dare someone to ask me how that works). One day I'm going to take all my business smarts and fancy college learning over to a very reputable corporate gig (and by one day, I mean as soon as I hear back from the other jobs I applied for last week). Old black dudes.

When Will Black People...? Thursday, August 7, 2008

... finally tell BET to stop broadcasting. You know I work at a community newspaper (a local, in-print version of BET if you will), and we have a television in the office (dummy box 1, productivity 0) which was unfortunately stuck on BET for some reason today while I was working at my desk. So because I couldn't find the remote (mainly because I never moved an inch to look for it), I was stuck with the brain rot that was being broadcast.

It was like hell, or more descriptively, like masturbation; you knew you shouldn't, but who the hell is around to stop you? I wanted to physically get up and either change the channel or turn the tv off, but I got caught up in a little bullshit show called Hell Date. Now this used to be one of my guilty pleasures back in the day, until I realized that usually the first segment is mildly funny and it goes downhill from there. Sometime after that, I had the pleasure of catching a full episode of 106 and Park. I think they should take a survey and see how many of them damn kids did their homework (or even attended school that day) before coming to the taping of that show. This show is like TRL for link card recipients.

But then as I finally got up after two hours to turn the tv off (read: go to the bathroom), I realized that in a sick and twisted way that I was actually entertained. I always used to feel that way after watching BET back in the day; knowing that what I was watching was total trash, but still having a slight sense of viewer gratification (this was usually after Freestyle Friday on 106 and Park or The Booth segment of Rap City). Could this be what they mean by Black Entertainment Television? That no matter how trash BET becomes, the viewer will always be entertained?

Then the real epiphany hit me; I wasn't entertained, I was watching intently for inspiration to not come close to being like any of the bullshit I just witnessed. I mean could you imagine any of the so-called civil rights groups not protesting (i.e. creating a big stink on the FOX News Channel) any one of a number of these shows if they were on any other channel? Why does BET get a pass to push black people down? Because they got the word black in the title?

To me, getting BET off the air (because it is beyond the point of repair) is a more pertinent discussion than the N-word discussion can ever be.

And let's state the obvious, BET is not ran by black people; no self-respecting Negro (or even the laziest and most shiftless form of Negro for that matter) would say 'Hey, let's show Hell Date four times a day; Rap City episodes featuring the same set of four songs; and top off the primetime line-up with black cinema's finest films such as Vampire in Brooklyn; then to all the n-words coming in from a late night of drug selling/abusing, we'll hit them with Morning Inspiration, featuring white Jesus! Ooooh Weeeee... BET is going to be better than fried chicken AND watermelons!'

We like to point fingers at various rap artists (of whose names none of us will remember next year, mind you) for killing hip hop music; when will someone accuse BET of killing the hip hop movement? And yes, the hip hop movement is synonymous with the current generation of black culture; don't let nobody tell you otherwise.

The Christening Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Starting yet again a new blog, and I can't but help wondering (a) what keeps driving me to blog in the first place, and (b) who's actually reading this AND remembers it five minutes later?

To answer my own rhetorical question (and I'm starting to think 'rhetorical question' is the code word for 'question no one gives enough of a damn about to answer in the first place'), blogging definitely keeps a playa sane at times. Especially at work (and I'm going to step away from my desk for a second on purpose just to see if the monkey-mouthed bastard I share an office with really does be all up on my pc whenever I walk away from it; I'll know if he looked if the shit-faced glances I normally get from him consists of 15% more shit when I return).

... and I'm back; and yes he did look.

Anyway, blogging also helps me to not get caught up in the conventional use of the english language, but instead I can focus all of my literary energy on talking shit and writing detailed plans on how best to choke the hell out of this dude I share the office with (I know he saw that, because now he has taken to looking at my screen while I'm still sitting here).