vintageBKlyn
a blackgirl's permutating manifesto on windowsill marigolds & freestyle guerilla acts


Friday, March 07, 2003  

Tonight I trekked to Harlem to see a film called NO! about sexual violence against Black women. It was not an original idea. I arrived at the Schomburg Library fifteen minutes early thinking I would get a seat. The joint's walls were splitting because there were so many people. Almost everyone was Black except for William Upski (Bomb the Suburbs and No More Prisons) and one other white woman I saw. There was probably a smattering of Latina and Asian inside, but I never made it past the elusive velvet rope. We, the people, were bohemian shiny- perfectly styled and twisted locks, fly boots, leather jackets, lip gloss, luminous skin. We came to analyze, criticize, schmooze, and be seen. There were also a few older women. Parents came with their young children. It is heartening to know that as different communities of Black people we will come out in the cold to learn about and discuss the rampant sexual abuse of Black women. However I did hear someone, who had just elbowed and shoved himself to the front of the line after the security guard told everyone "Sorry, no more seats. Clear the lobby area.", say, "I'm on the list." That was a little much. The intellectual hiphop glitterati now have guest lists for when they're appearing at a library near you. It doesn't matter the venue, as long as we're important somewhere, be it your local library, club or bodega. Enough with the hate. I'm just disappointed that I didn't make it through because I really wanted to hear what Black Men In Support of the Film "No!" had to say. Some of the speakers were St. CLair Bourne, filmmaker, Marcus Reeves, writer and publisher of Romarc Media, Michael Eric Dyson, professor, and a host of others. I didn't see any Black women slated to speak, but again who knows what happened on the other side of the velvet rope.

posted by coloredhoney | 11:00 PM
 

First off, because this site is extremely rustic people who read it and would like to post comments, cannot. I'm working on something more tech palatable but in the meantime join me in a little web improv. I have an email address that you can send comments/questions/suggestions/hatemail, lovemail et al. It is bklynvintage@yahoo.com.

How about that Laura Ingraham? Her name, her face, her television show on cnn conjures bile. The literary world bestowed upon her a book deal and now ruining our pleasure of perusing book titles is her book, The Hillary Trap. Who are these conservative nutjobs? And why do they smile so brightly? Just because the answers to these questions are commonly known doesn't mean I can't be incredulous. The biological properties that brought Laura Ingraham into conception and propelled her from a fetus into a wacked adult demand rigorous examination. This would probably mean quarantining her parents. But really, would we miss them? Look at what they spawned. Criminal negligence if you ask me. Ingraham's book razor slices Hillary Clinton's cloyingly "liberal" politics. Oh that Hillary and her village raising up all the children. Did she come up with that all on her own or do I smell something, God forbid, African in the senate? I remember Hillary during her campaign, rocking from side to side, along side the multitudes of church choirs she visited, learning the words with verve to all those old Negro spirituals she could never decipher while listening to her maids when she was growing up. Since her election has she fought tooth and nail for those church choirs and their family members who possibly have little access to adequate money, healthcare, fulfilling jobs, as our anointed senator? And believe me, Black folks anointed that chick, laid their hands across mama, making her Black Queen Supreme. She was Cicely Tyson to Bill Clinton's Miles Davis. So what is this "Hillary Trap" that Laura Ingraham rages will decimate her nation's moral fiber if the people don't BEWARE! Why can't rich white women with opportunistic politics just get along?

posted by coloredhoney | 1:35 PM
 

Do not continue to read if you disagree with the upcoming statements. They will only serve to agitate and accelerate your heartrate and I don't want no one emailing me about their pressure.

Toni Cade Bambara mandated, and Kazembe Bulagoon recently echoed, "we must rescue the planet from the psychopaths." Indeed, my dears, all people are in grave trouble. There is a doctor named David Hager who believes women can win the war against PMS by praying. This man is not a random ranting lunatic. He is a ranting lunatic who also has a position on George W's Reproductive Health Advisory Committee at the FDA, according to Richard Goldstein in this week's Village Voice article, Stealth Misogyny. He will not discuss contraception with his female patients. Do you think he discusses it with his male patients? What if an anonymous insurgent located Mr. Hager alone and held him up at gunpoint? Assuming that our anonymous insurgent is Black Mr. Hager would probably give up his wallet instantly without pause or protest. Ah, that Mr. Hager and his cloistered colonized thought process, underestimates our anonymous insurgent, that for the purposes of this particular "what if" we assume is Black. Indeed, the insurgent wants something, but she/he works in between just and necessary assignments. No need for Mr. Hager's cheddar. No what the insurgent wants are some medical instructions. 'Cuz, you see, the insurgent has a partna and the partna's job is to cauterize Dr. Hager's penis. After said job is completed the white house administration en masse can pray for their beloved health official's desecrated dingaling.

posted by coloredhoney | 11:27 AM
 

On the cover of this week's New York Magazine is a small picture of essayist and poet, Lucy Grealy. She wrote a wonderfully sensitive, moving, and witty memoir titled "Autobiography of a Face" It is her story of being diagnosed with cancer when she was 9. The cancer resulted in her lower jaw being removed. For the rest of her life, until her very recent death, she would undergo painfully brutal surgeries that promised physical wholeness and acceptance but only left her wanting after each surgery eventually failed. Most of her body's bones were carved, shifted and melded into her jaw in hopes of providing it with a solid structure. Always after unbearable hospital stays, a series of drugs, and dreams of prettiniess disintegrating, her face, too would dissolve. Her memoir is written in searingly beautiful and smart prose. She describes the vicious name calling she endured as well as the isolation of hospital wards and endless recovery periods all cushioned by addictive painkillers. She immersed herself in books and writing poetry to assuage her pain and layer it with beauty. She insisted on remaining in unhealthy relationships for their meager offerings of romantic love and connection. Sex and a heady social life covered, tenuously like a soft scab, a fierce and unfulfilled desire for intimacy and companionship. Still, despite the huge wound lonliness opened, Lucy's magnetic personality and brilliance attracted many women and men who wanted to be counted among the chosen in her life. Beyond the pages of her debut triumph, her second book, a
collection of essays called "As Seen on T.V." was not favorably received. Her money was gone, she agreed to more surgeries craving peace from pain, swelling, scarring- physical difference. Lucy's death breaks my heart. I read Autobiography of a face twice. The second time I had forgotten how much of it I'd highlighted in bright yellow wanting to remember her passages of humor and universal truths circumscribed by the tyrannical threat of women never knowing love based on their physical appearance. She was human. And she did more than her best, exhausting every resource of herself until she called on her friends and followers to sustain themselves in the rich texture of her poetry and memories to share and retell. Please, forgive any awkward sentence structures and grammatical errors. I just had to write about this woman's powerful struggle that in the end was too overwhelmingly painful to continue.

posted by coloredhoney | 11:25 AM
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