Cynique

Yes, it’s me. The Lone Poster. Hi-Ho Silver, here I go. Got my gun cocked ready to take some pot shots. My target? The easiest one in sight. Television. TV is currently overrun with reality shows, encouraged undoubtedly by the ratings which attest to how voyeuristic viewers have become, seemingly mesmerized by narcissistic airheads whose vicissitudes allow audiences to either empathize with or live vicariously through them. Who needs soap operas or sit-coms when you can watch exhibitionists be their own obnoxious selves. And who can deny that truth is stranger than fiction? Guess it’s easier to observe the bizarre than to read a book. Just ask Snookie. Or Kim. Of course, the reason Maury’s show endures is that no one ever tires of watching Baby Daddys being outed or exonerated. If an alien visitor ever game to Earth and saw nothing but this show, he would conclude that females of the black species are born with a compulsion to have babies, much to the dismay of males of the black species who seemingly can’t figure of out how babies are made, even as they rejoice over mistaken paternity, and their mortified accusers streak off the set in hysterics. Better luck next time, Shenequa. Then there are the game shows. They give great insight into the idiocy that is second nature to the average person, providing a clue as to why the masses are so gullible when it comes to picking their leaders. “Family Feud”, for instance, has been around for decades, frequently changing hosts but never its format. The contestants who appear on this show are expected to match answers to questions asked of a 100 people surveyed, something which seems to challenge their reasoning. The obvious responses invariably elude them as they blurt out far-fetched guesses drawn from their own personal experiences, confident in their choice as their maniacal teammates enthusiastic encourage them with shouts of “good answer”, 2 words that couldn’t be further from the truth. When it comes time for the jackpot round, nothing is more redemptive than than watching the 2 geniuses chosen to earn the grand prize deflate as their stupid answers draw a zero punctuated by a loud buzz, and a final score of, - say, 25 out of a possible 100 sends them away with their tail between their legs. Steve Harvey is the latest host of this show and even HE is sometimes rendered speechless by this nonsense. Talk shows also continue to attract loyal audiences. Naturally, Oprah is the queen. Day in and day out she holds court, her hair her crown, as gushing guest stars pay homage to her, and dysfunctional damsels dab at their eyes, dutifully listening while “O” dispenses the insipid advice that invited experts don’t dare contradict. “No one can complete you”, she tells everybody. “You have to love yourself before you can love anybody else”, she insists. Nobody in her presence has the courage to dispute this, or suggest that everybody needs a yin to their yang and that loving yourself can evolve into the self-absorbtion that turns others off. Poor Steadman. Not to be out done, Whoopi Goldberg, does her clown act everyday on “The View“, peering over her granny glasses, stiff dreadlocks framing her rubbery face. Everybody is expected to shut up when she demands their undivided attention so she can pontificate, - her comments about as enlightening as yesterday’s newspaper. Watta bore. There was a time when every show has its token Black. Now they all have their token gay person. Personally, I’m tired of all these celebrities who rub your nose in their gayness, referring to their same sex partners as their “husband” or “wife” Puleeze. Yeah, we know you were born that way, but you’re still an aberration. If you weren’t, you could replicate yourselves and your coupling could produce offspring, and you wouldn’t have to be adopting kids who will grow up repressing their embarrassment. Stop comparing your pity parties to the Black struggle and get over yourselves. Quit trying to make heterosexuals feel that they are at fault. There’s nothing wrong with straight people. You’re the crooked ones who are queer. And while I'm offending groups, I think I’ll take on the Muslims. The prejudices they inspire don’t make them the new “niggers”, either. Like Gays, they can blend in if they so choose, plus they have their own distinct culture. And they are just as hypocritical as Christians, not to mention how repressed their women folk are. Islam has been out to get even with Christianity ever since the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition. Building a mosque in the shadow of the 911’s ground zero is nothing but gloating, and all these PC people know it. I’m done. Except to say that I hope every Tea Party candidate running for office gets burned and goes down in flames. Defeated.

I don't want you to feel slighted, Chris, because Troy singled me out to comment on polio. So tell us any recollections you have about chicken pox, - that childhood scourage! I can hardly wait for you to share your memories with us.

I finally finished the 620-page “The Warmth of Other Suns” by Pulitzer Prize winning author, Isabel Wilkerson, and it was a trip! Literally, - its subtitle being “the epic story of America’s great migration.” This was an amazing, magnificent book chronicling the history of great numbers of Blacks who began leaving the south to seek a better life in the big cities of the North during the time period between 1915 through 1970. I was particularly interested in checking this book out because my mother was a part of this exodus, having left her home town of Franklin, Tennessee, in 1916 to seek her fortune in Chicago. My father, who was a midwestern farm boy from Kansas, had a little different history, arriving in Chicago in 1914 after having been kidnapped by his father, who came back to Kansas to rescue him from an abusive aunt in whose care he had been entrusted after his mother died. But - that’s another story. Anyway, many of the anecdotes related in this book perfectly described the experiences I remember my parents talking about when they reminisced about their early years in Chi-Town. This is one of the reasons I found this book so engrossing as it followed the adventures of 3 migrants during 3 different decades, a young woman who came to Chicago from Mississippi in the 1930s, a youth who fled to New York from Florida in the 1940s, and a doctor who left Louisiana for Los Angeles in the 1950s. Dispersed between their stories is a wealth of interesting history about the life and times of black folks struggling to improve their living conditions during the 85-year period that encompassed the great migration. What was most compelling and depressing about this documentary was how hated Blacks were both by their southern oppressors and the working class northerners who viewed them as a threat to their status. What was inspiring was how these pioneers persevered, kept on pushing, their eyes on the proverbial prize, as they drew from the inner strength that 400 years of degradation couldn’t kill. I can’t say enough about the skills and artistry of the author a young black woman from Washington DC, whose parents were migrants from the south. As dense as this book was, it was a “painless” read with its seamless narrative and characters that came to life. The only problem I had was how she made no mention of the black migrants who after coming north, left the metropolises to settle in their suburbs. My parents moved from Chicago in 1922, becoming members of the black colonies who occupied their own little sections of the villages and towns that ringed the big cities, removed from the hazards of urban life, leading less stressful existences. This once again reminded me of how the black experience varies, and how mine is not that typical. In any case, I actually grew sad as the book drew to a close because I was going to have to bid farewell to the 3 main subjects, friends whom I had come to love and admire and empathize with as I accompanied them through the ups and downs of their quest for freedom. Needless to say, I highly recommend “The Warmth of Other Suns”. Even its title impresses me. It says so much, and is a quote from a Richard Wright poem. This book is well worth the time it takes to read, and I give it 4 out of a possible 4 stars. ****

Well, Chrishayden, I have no idea how the mayoral race in Chicago will end up. The field is very crowded. The Hispanic vote will be pivotal and they are fielding a couple of candidates. The Blacks, as usual, are on the verge of a power struggle between all of the hopefuls stepping forward, and this will undoubtedly be compounded by a bid for the black women's vote who ex-senator Carole Mosely Braun will be seeking now that she has thrown her hat into the ring. An endorsement of any of these candidates by Obama might be poison because his popularity is fading fast among white voters, and if he backs Rahm Emanuel, Blacks and Hispanics will be mad. If he backs a candidate who ends up losing, this will also damage him. All I can say is that it will be interesting to watch since, not being a Chicago resident, I won't be able to vote. Let the games begin.

Frustrated as ever that my "edit" option mysteriously disappears as soon as I sign in. That should be "conglomeration" not "congglomerations". Sheeze.

No accounting for taste. What is music to one person is just a congglomerations of sounds to another. As should be obvious by my choice of songs here, I am a person who is very heavy into melody and lyrics. When it comes to jazz, I dig the counter-punal interaction between instruments, or variations on a theme by soloists. It's not suprising that it's mostly men who are into free wheeling frenetic performances that improvise and explode ala Ornette Coleman. John Coltrane's version of "My Favorite Things" is a really classic example of this and hearing his saxophone become an extension of himself as he shifts into another realm is a transcendental experience I've learned to appreciate. Musical talent is a special gift; one I regrettably wasn't blessed with. But music has been the one constant in my life, even as a child. It's always been there for me, and being a good listener is the gift that I was granted.

Well let’s see, Troy, my recollections about polio are grounded in my Chicagoland environment. What I remember was that it was a dreaded disease that often reached epidemic proportions and when this happened the fear of catching it was rampant, a situation somewhat comparable to the way we currently react to flu outbreaks. Anybody who developed a sore throat or a fever, was immediately suspected of having polio, and would quickly seek medical attention. The masses knew nothing about this disease or what caused it, we all just knew that we didn’t want to catch it; black and white alike. All kind of theories abounded as to how you could catch it. The only treatment I can recall for it was a physical therapy regimen that involved massaging of the limbs. When the epidemic subsided everybody would pretty much forget about it until it flared up again. During the summer, swimming pools would be closed and people were warned to stay away from large venues when polio was on the rampage. Public drinking fountains and bathrooms were taboo. Polio was also referred to as infantile paralysis and victims who didn’t die from it were left crippled or confined to wheel chairs. I think the most famous victims of this plague was President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who contracted it when he was in his late 30s and did his best to conceal his infirmity all during his presidential campaigns and time in office. When giving speeches, he would be propped up against a podium supported by heavy leg braces. He was the inspiration for an organization known as the March of Dimes, a group which encouraged everyone, especially kids, to send dimes to the white house to help finance research for a cure, and little coin booklets were provided to insert your dimes in. At school we would have programs to raise money. This charity still exists today to combat other debilitating diseases. Some victims of polio were kept alive by placing them in what was called an iron lung. This was a hyperbolic chamber like the one Michael Jackson supposedly slept in, and it helped the patient to breathe. A man who lived in a neighboring suburb was kept alive in one of these and he was a local celebrity. I personally knew a couple of people who contracted polio, and they are still limping around to this day. My brother had a newly-married friend whose bride died from it. When a vaccine was finally developed for polio this was a great milestone in medical history and shots became mandatory for all children entering school. My kids got these sugar-sweet immunizations which were squirted in their mouths from eyedroppers, but - I never did. I, however, like most people of my generation, have a small pox vaccination scar on my arm. They stopped giving these in the 1960s. Two other diseases that don’t get much attention anymore are diphtheria and typhoid fever. They killed a lot of young people in this country before vaccines were developed in the late 1930s. The same with Scarlet Fever which you just had to ride out in hopes of surviving it. I had a mild case of this as a child, and it weakened my eyesight. Today the DPT shots that are routinely administered to children are to prevent these sicknesses. The “P” in DPT stands for “pertussis” the medical term for whooping cough which is cropping up again because some parents are rejecting these shots. Youngsters today don’t realize how up until the 1920s, a lot of children didn’t make it to adulthood because of such ailments. Most families lost at least one child to them. Many babies never survived past their first year. The life expectancy was about 60 years old back then thanks to sicknesses like tuberculosis, also known as consumption. The medical profession has made a lot of progress but some people have started to believe that the cures are worse than the diseases. And so it goes.

Because I can’t keep up with the upkeep, I am giving up the old homestead, and am accepting my oldest daughter’s invitation to move in with her, something that will convenience rather than inconvenience her circumstances. Having resided at my present home for almost 40 years, the prospect of disposing of all of my possessions entails dealing with a lot of logistics as well as emotional baggage. Along with this, strange things have started to happen in connection with my re-locating. I find myself wondering if my persona has imbued my house, and it has become a brick and mortar version of me. Why? Because it’s like the house doesn’t want the physical me to separate from it. All of the problems that were contributing to my decision to move have solved themselves. After extensive flooding in my basement, I was sure my washer, dryer, and furnace were all dead and having them replaced and repaired was prohibitive. It turns out they were only in a coma and have all come back to life and are now working fine. My old refrigerator seemed to have forgotten what its function was, but then it spontaneously remembered and is now keeping food, and especially soft drinks ice cold. The pilot went out on the eyes of my stove. Not a problem. A book of matches works just as well. The images that were breaking up on certain TV channels no longer do this. My computer mysteriously repaired itself after I couldn't get on line for days. But, - alone at night, I still experience paranormal phenomenon. Strange noises and lights are common. My body often feels like I am sharing it with - "something". When awaking from a deep sleep, I see people whom I don’t know. I won’t even go into the weird dreams I have. Crazy. The longer I live, the more I realize that there is more to life than the human mind can fathom. I also know I’m kinda tired of this version of my existence. I think I’m ready to move on. New horizons invite. Stop yawning.

As I recall, the original conclusion reached by the freakonomic authors was that once abortion was legalized, figures showed that the crime rate dropped. This led them to deduce that unwanted children were more likely to grow up and become criminals, but that abortion nipped this possibility in the bud. Go figure.

Is this guy outraged because, as an innocent young boy, he was lavished on - and molested? Or is he upset because he outgrew all of the perks when the pedophile bishop kicked him to the curb???

Well, carey, since you got on your soap box, spewing your usual drivel, you invite hecklers. You just can't accept the idea that black folks do not have to be of one opinion. You really believe that everybody who doesn't think like you is supposed to be quiet and go along with your idea of how things are supposed to be, - like you are so full of wisdom that you can dictate what others should do. Being stereotyped isn't really a concern of yours. And nobody has more of a slave mentality than you. You have a your own out-dated idea of what black decorum should be, thinking black folks should keep mum and silently skulk around, hovering together, heads bowed, whispering among themselves so the great white father won't hear their plans for escape. You ignore how Catholics are divided about the issue of abusive priests, how many Italians didn't appreciate how the "The Sopranos" put them in a bad light, how Tea Party candidates are defeating moderate Republicans - and on and on go the examples of healthy dissent. And you still can't reconcile your thinking when it comes to the biggest house nigga of all, the one who was elected by the yard and field niggas and who is getting his advice and counsel from representatives of The Massa. Yet, here you are again, elevating yourself to the position of some all-seeing, all-knowing oracle, a black Moses chosen to show his people the way. Get outta here. You're nothing but a wanna-be who can't think straight enough to find your own way. I'm all for political humor and satire, and when you master the art of this, I'll nod in agreement. As it is, you are simply doing what you used to do with your round-ups and that is to create a scenario and just select somebody to be a mouth piece for your opinions or insults. In other words you make up lies. You use the name Steve Harvy to attract viewers and then proceed to make him a puppet for your words. Can't you see what a violation this is???????

Sheeze. In posting your silly videos on line, if your hope is to score a million hits and achieve your yearning to enjoy 15 minutes of fame, forget it, carey. You stand a better chance of being sued by Steve Harvey for claiming to be him and exploiting his name. (Of course, maybe achieving notoriety in that way is the goal of an ol con man like you.)

Puleeze. Is that supposed to be a compliment? You are so out of it, Chrishayden. And I don't recall Kola ever being noted for her puns. Her buns, maybe. And her boobs for sure. Bottom line, being another Kola Boof is not one of my goals in life.

“Why, Cynique,” you ask, “in your musical review have you overlooked such favorites as Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson, Stevie Wonder, Aretha and Chaka? What about Earth, Wind and Fire, The Isley Brothers, Jimi Hendrix, Frankie Beverly, Parliament, Donna Summer and Prince?” Well, the reason to me is obvious. You and I have all heard these artists, and there’s nothing new we can tell each other about them. The purpose of my project was not to reminisce. It was my humble attempt to teach a lesson, - to provide examples of black-oriented music that has become "obscure". I agree only the curious would find my course interesting. So, to those to whom this applies, I’ll just give you a “C” - for being average.

I don't think the grand dames I poked fun at were acting like bitches and hoes. They were just showing the world they're not ready for the old folks home. BTW, most of Betty White's new crop of fans are young people.

Watta prude. I don't think me or any other senior citizen is concerned with winning the respect of people whom they don't particularly respect. As stupid and extreme as young people of today are, they have no room to diss the older generation. Not only that, some of these famous old broads still look good. That old maxim you quoted is not "timeless wisdom". "You're only as old as you feel" is an adage more befitting 2010

Dear Chris: I am not trying to promote anybody. The artists I focused on here are all dead. As I have repeatedly stated, my aim in showcasing all of these stars of yesteryear is to introduce people to what they might not be familiar with, which is the music of the past. Everybody who comes to this board is certainly familiar with the music of the last 20 years or 30 years. They don't need me to refresh their memories.

I knew if I waited long enough, I’d be back in style. With the public maybe growing tired of anorexic actresses sporting their baby bumps, focus has shifted to the healthy bodies of the past, perspective mummies instead of expectant mommies, One of the hottest celebs around these days is 86-year-old Betty White who is having a ball with her tongue-in-cheek dirty ol lady persona. Now joining her in the spotlight is 76-year-old Florence Henderson of Brady Bunch fame, appearing as a contestant on "Dancing With The Stars", flashing her bosom and shaking her booty like a 20-something hottie. Not to be out done 76-year-old ageless sex pot Sophia Loren is about to be the cover girl on one of the fashion magazines, while just today here in Chicago 76-year-old feminist icon Gloria Steinem blew into town, still wearing her trendy glasses and shoulder length hair, bitching about not enough female candidates being in the race for the soon to be vacated office of Mayor. 77-year-old Joan Rivers is still doing stand-up comedy, asking "can we talk?", while 77-year-old commedienne Carol Burnett regularly makes guest appearances on various TV series and 77-year- old Joan Collins continues to flit around as if she never stopped being the glamorous diva on "Dynasty", as does 75-year-old chanteuse Diahann Carroll. You, go Girls! Me? First chance I get, I’m gonna do something young - like go on a diet.

A lurker chided me for choosing Bull Moose Jackson over Billy Eckstein on this post, the feeling being that Billy was a more appropriate choice, him being typical of the deep-voiced mellow toned male ballad singers of this era whose lush orchestral accompaniments always featured a lot of violins. I suspect that music fans of today will find this music schmaltzy, unless maybe - they are fans of Luther or Maxwell. But again I stress how mind broadening diversity can be. I think I have exhausted my quota for embedding YouTube videoes on this site, but for anybody who is curious here is a link to a favorite by Mr. B., as Billy Eckstein was nicknamed by his fans. v=oFVFkVyQGNQ

Back to Errol Garner, there was another cut on that same YouTube I posted that showcases his amazing piano skills even better than the one I chose, and anyone interested can just click on to it when the series of pictures appears at the bottom of the video. That cut would be: "I get a kick out of you" and on this one you can see how his right and left hands played independently of each other, even at different tempos. Garner had very little formal training and was a naturally-gifted virtuoso. Another distinctive thing about his playing was that, unlike a lot of jazz pianists, he never improvised on the melody of a song, he just embellished it with his flamboyant style. These are just things I think true music lovers should find interesting...

Well, although I take my ginko biloba faithfully, and work crossword puzzles and read books and engage in other activites to stimulate my mind, some things just elude my comprehension. I have a memory like a elephant, with just an occasion senior moment when I can’t immediately call to mind somebody’s name, but when looking for coherence, there are just some things that I can’t wrap my mind around. I faithfully stuck with Ishmael Reed's marathon commentary posted by Chrishayden and just when I thought I was gleaning the point Reed was trying to make, he would do a flip-flop, contradicting himself before lapsing into irrelevant anecdotes and parenthetical asides giving readers the benefit of his broad knowledge about the care and feeding of famous people. What I finally deduced from the message he was delivering was that black men may do wrong things but it’s not their fault and they should be given credit because sometimes they do the right thing, a plus which ball-busting black women and condescending white liberals prefer to ignore... So what else is new? This is obviously part of the problem instead of the solution. And solutions are what we are seeking here. Next, ABM checks in, suggesting that black men have to define among themselves what a good father is and then act like one. No shit. Finally, Carey pops up and begins chasing his tail, yapping about the foibles of horny women before seeking answers to the insipid riddles he poses. And speaking of riddles, what was that Greek drama soliloquy all about? If one hasn’t seen the movie “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When The Rainbow Isn‘t Enuff“, what’s the basis for making a video trashing it? This film is a fleshed-out version of a play written by Ntozake Shange, and there is a “hidden” meaning in the title. Just why does Tyler Perry have to be dissed for giving black actresses an opportunity to play serious roles??? Huh? Huh? Up here on my mountain top, contemplating Life's mysteries, I’ve reached the conclusion that the reason the sexes are at odds is because somebody is always trying to get even. The reason communication breaks down is because nobody knows what they are talking about. The reason the family is deteriorating is because kids wanna be parents. And the reason women ridicule men is because they are funny. Ha.Ha.

C'mon, Chris. I don't agree that when Kanye spoke out against Bush, he lost his fan base which, at that time, was all hip-hop and rap. In fact, he firmly established himself as a lovable, award-winning Kook. And after knockin George Bush, the Dixie Chicks enjoyed great fan support as they continued their European tour. Plus, the whole liberal Hollywood community jumped aboard the Obama bandwagon and suffered no repercussions for this. Oprah's ratings are dropping because people are just tired of her after 25 years, something she has seemingly figured out herself which is why she is gettin out before her audience completely erodes.

Since she's a Jew, certainly Judge Judy's NYC's dominance in the ratings has to do with the city's large Jewish population. I can't stand the bitch. I don't think I've ever watched more than 10 minutes of her show. Naturally, I am also weary of Oprah. Ho Hum. She sprung that free Australian trip on her adoring fans like she was was passing out gold. Who actually wants to go to Australia, even if John Travolta will be at the controls during the 20-hour flight??? Is anybody really that thrilled at the idea of seeing kangaroos, Koala bears, stray Aborigines, and maybe a profane Mel Gibson staggering around? And once again "O" will be annoucing her new book club selection today, yet another work by a white male author. Whatever. Oprah is still leading in the over-all ratings. Millions and millions of people still watch her faithfully. IMO, her endorsement of Obama didn't alienate her die-hard fans of which they are many. White racists are not likely to have been that big on Oprah to begin with. BTW, a recent pollster projection showed that Obama would win a second term if either Sarah Palin or Mitt Romney oppose him in the next election so take heart, Crystal.

Miles, who would sometimes turn his back to the audience and play to himself, was the epitome of the moody temperamental musician, a persona that that elevated his status to that of a cult figure. He did mellow a little in his old age, and when he let his hair grow long and started appearing in music videos, enjoying commercial success with his rendition of Cindy Lauper's "Time After Time", jazz purists were outraged and disappointed and called him a sell-out. Why, I don't know because I thought his version of this song in no way compromised his style. During this time, I also remember Miles remarking in an interview that whenever he played his old albums, he actually found some of his solos boring to listen to...

Remember if it skips, reply it to correct this.