Cynique

Welcome back, Xeon. Where ya been? 'Thought maybe the coons had got you.

LeBron didn't stab Cleveland in the back but since he has no balls, he decided to kick The Cavaliers in theirs.

All that glitters is not gold. The trio of players about to descend on Miami might be more brass than class. The chemistry has to be right and there's no guarantee that The Heat can fuse a championship from this top-heavy conglomerate. Fate is fickle and sometimes mocks too much of a good thing.

Of course, I'm choking on the sour grapes served up by the snub The Chicago Bulls have just endured. How do I feel about LaBron James?? "BOOOOOOO-ZER!"

Were the missiles made in China?

Be my guest, Troy, if you want to "re-publish" my rant.

I love the responses my essays elicit from you. It's like I pass the baton to you, and you run the next leg of a relay that tracks the course of the black race.

Well, Troy, you asked me whether it was easier to raise kids 60 years ago than it is now, and - you know what happens when you pose a question to me…

Back then, kids were kids. Having a baby was just a routine part of life. You got married in your early twenties and in a couple of years started a family. Children were kept in perspective. You had em, you raised em and tried to teach em right from wrong. You often made sacrifices for them. If they were ambitious enough to want to go to college, you got a second job and sent them off to an institution of higher learning. You might have even exhausted your bank account to give your daughter a big wedding. Then, you cut them loose, dutifully assuring them that you’d always be there for them, hoping they didn’t take you up on the offer.

There may have been a lot of stay-at-home moms among white folks back in the 1950s, but once black moms got their kids in school they usually went out and found jobs in order to make ends meet or provide the little extras or to accumulate the savings necessary to buy a home. Under the watchful eyes of extended families, kids were expected to do their part by looking out for themselves as much as possible, and time spent with their parents was more about quality rather than quantity. Unless you had mental or emotional issues, you patiently played your role as an authority figure and your sullen children went along with your program until they were old enough to get out of the house and do their own thing, which may or may not have entailed becoming a black militant or a radical hippie.

As time passed, however, and prosperity boomed, and attitudes changed, there became an increasing tendency for folks to spoil their offspring, providing them with all of the things they had had to do without. And that’s how the trouble began. This sentiment gradually escalated to the point of children taking center stage as their doting parents over-indulged them, giving them an inflated sense of self-esteem, insulating them from the real world while America became a culture of child-worshippers. Women fell in love with their children, making them the center of their lives, many even neglecting their mates in the process.

Before long, as we know, babies became trophies and accessories! Having one was on every woman’s to-do list, - with or without a husband. Pregnancies reached fad proportions, - the naming of a child a project, the more unusual the choice the better. Leading the charge were celebrities showing off their baby bumps, giving boring details of breast feeding to talk show hosts. Black folks, especially those in the ghetto, were just as caught up in this as everybody else, the term “baby daddy” fast becoming co-opted by the mainstream.

And of course there was The Internet - the enabler of every bizarre facet reflected by today’s society.

Was it easier to raise a child in the 1950s than it is now? I think so. Why? the family dynamic has changed, and the pace of life quickened. Thanks to parents who got their priorities mixed, today’s children are the embodiment of an arrogant sense of entitlement. They merely tolerate adults and care little for what can be learned from the past. They are bored by current events and their attention span runs no longer than the time it takes for the next rapper’s album to drop, or the newest video game to go on sale Their heroes are millionaire sports jocks, their idols flash-in-the-pans musicians. The books they read are mostly limited to street-lit or vampire tales.

Of course these are generalizations and there are parents who are trying to provide their children with a good set of values but it’s hard for them to compete with FaceBook. Peer pressure reigns supreme and drugs are rampant. Raising a child in this environment is a monumental challenge.

Back in the day kids were not bombarded with media hype and had to rely more on their imaginations, something which stimulated their brains in a positive way, making them more curious about the world they lived in; always a good thing. Now, the idea of a good thing to today’s parents is to keep their daughters “off the pole” and their sons “off the pipe”.

I agree. Some people seem to be on FaceBook all day long, idly chatting about trivial things, keeping friends posted on their every move. Doing this apparently fills a void in their life, and satisfies a need to validate their existence. Why are people so seduced by the technology of communication nowadays? It's kind of scary to contemplate what this bodes for the future.

Your input is equally interesting, Troy, because you are a baby boomer from Harlem, a whole different breed than me.

I certainly agree that our pop culture environment has a cookie-cutter pattern to it. A certain scenario replicates itself all over America. And, in many ways, we have become materialistic automatons, everybody striving for the same tangible gratifications of goods and services, as Capitalism takes on the status of a religion. And, so it goes...

Living close to Chicago, and residing in a small town which a couple of years ago had a record 42 murders in one year, is why I always a hard time with those of you who crow about the crime rate being way down. 52 has to be an all- time high for Chicago, but there are at least a dozen murders there every week, most committed by young Blacks against other young Blacks, many of these killing being cases of mistaken identity or of innocent persons being caught in the line of fire.

According to the police, these slayings are mostly gang-related, but others are the result of fights where sore losers leave the scene and return with a gun to avenge being dissed. Still others occur at clubs or private parties where troublemakers resort to shooting up the place when asked to leave. These particular perpetrators are cold-blooded hoods who have no respect for human life, and no regard for the consequences of the deeds that could result in their serving hard time, leading dead-end existences in prison, sentenced to lay around in their cells reading Donald Goines books, converting to Islam, bartering with cigarettes, and forming gang alliances..

Lately as this problem has started to spill over into the black middle class enclaves of the Chicago's south side, adults have started to arm themselves with guns, as in a couple of recently-reported cases where homeowners shot and killed home intruders. Then there’s how this young black off-duty cop who had served 2 hitches in Afghanistan was recently accosted in front of his parent's home by 5 thugs looking to steal his brand new motorcycle. When his father, who was a retired policeman, saw what was happening he got his gun and after identifying himself as a law officer killed one and critically wounded another of the fleeing criminals who had gunned down his son before being picked up by a getaway car, which ran over the young cop’s body while speeding away...

Who knows what the solution to this terrible situation is. Nothing seems to work. The victims are invariably described by their weeping mothers as good kids who had no gang affiliations, the victimizers usually have histories of petty crime and felonious arrests. It has evolved into a vicious cycle that perpetuates itself. It’s easy to say that poverty, the breakdown of the family, and bad schools are the cause of this rampant violence but these negative factors only seem to affect some kids and not others. It’s like certain ones have bodies, but - no souls.

I'm kinda thinking that obesity is more common in the present than it was in the 50s, Troy. The average woman nowadays is a size 14. Back then I’d say this figure was closer to a size 11. Of course there were always fat people around who had to endure being teased about their size. But skinniness was not necessarily considered an asset, either, - unless you were rich. And - your question jogs my memory more…

In the 50s decade, not only were we not as overweight as we are now but we were also not as preoccupied with losing weight, and there were no fad diets flooding the market every few months, - no micro-wave ovens to enable quick snacking. What possibly contributed to keeping our weight lower then, was the lack of fast food outlets. Of course, if you went looking, you could always find a little hot dog stand or a hamburger joint and in black neighborhoods there were fish and chicken shacks and greasy spoon diners but in those days there were no big franchises like McDonalds or KFC gracing every corner, or chain restaurants like Olive Garden and Applebees. Drive-up eating facilities serviced by car-hops were just starting to appear. Oh-oh. Here I gooooo.

The 50s era was also when drive-in outdoor movie venues became popular, their concept allowing the whole family to enjoy a night out together where they could view the latest releases from the comfort of their cars. These places served as lovers lanes, too, for those who didn’t mind making out in the cramped back seat of a Ford... Motels hadn’t come into widespread existence then, either.

The alternate to drive-ins were the neighborhood movie palaces where a double feature would be appearing. Yes, TWO full-length movies! There were no multi-plexes or such things as “starting times” or “reserved” seats. You bought your ticket, and were allowed to go right in, many times arriving in the middle of a picture which necessitated your sitting tight until you got to the part where you came in. If you wanted to, you could actually stay and watch the pictures over and over again because patrons didn’t have to vacate the premises until closing time. The big movie stars of the 1950s were such luminaries as Marlon Brando and Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe and Paul Newman. Black faces on the silver screen were few and far between. Dorothy Dandridge, and Harry Belafonte were one-hit wonders. Sidney Poitier was lucky enough to do a little better. And did I mention that air conditioning was not standard equipment in either a house or a car back then? It was a luxury pretty much limited to public places like movie houses, which in the summer time advertised it as an extra added attraction.

Well, Troy, I got carried away again. But these are opportunities I take advantage of - since nobody else does. I realize that this reminiscing may only be fun to people like me, who observe life as much as they participate in it. I am assuming that anyone who finds my reminiscences boring will bypass them, which is why their titles give a hint that they will be nostalgic in content. I understand any indifference to my recollections because I have contemporaries who have no interest in re-visiting the past or who even remember much about what went on “back in the day“. I recently talked to an old friend in California, and she expressed no wish to stir up memories and was just grateful for every day the Lord sent, wanting to spend her time praising His name and doting on her grandchildren. Age obviously dealt differently with us. As Lil Wayne sez: “Throw dirt on me and grow a wild flower. Fuck the earth and get a child out of her.”

In re-reading my 1950s memoir, the first thing that popped into my mind was how much I omitted. How could I have forgotten how low the cost of living was back then? It was during the 1950s that the minimum wage finally reached $1.00 an hour! Making 50 dollars a week was really considered good money. The annual salary of my first civil service job was $2,750 - a year, just a tad more than my present monthly pension. Of course there were no such things as credit cards. Man, don't get me started. Oops, too late...

When I matriculated at the University of Illinois in 1951, no entrance exams were required. The only pre-requisite was that you were a resident of the state. For one semester the tuition was FORTY DOLLARS, and dormitory room and board $350!

And, yes, when it came to other things, we did straighten our manes with hot combs and a special pomade that made taming wild locks easier, preparing them for the curling irons that finished off the job leaving only the final task of styling your hair into a page-boy and bangs. With no malls or Asian technicians, if we wanted our ears pierced we went to the old lady down the block who knew how to perform this surgery with alcohol, a needle, and a cork. The needle's thread was saturated with vaseline which you later pulled back and forth to keep the holes in your lobes open. The second phase of this procedure called for you to replace this cruddy thread with little broom straws until healing was complete and you were ready to insert your gold loops - if you hadn't succumbed to infection first.

Viginity was a prized possession in those days. I remember me and my girlfriends forming a Virgins club, proudly touting our status. I also remember being totally miffed when during a pajama party where, after binging on strawberry KoolAid, it was revealed that everybody in the club but me was lying about their chastity. BTW, condoms were called "rubbers" in those days...

There were no birth control pills either. And breast feeding enjoyed little popularity. New mothers sterilized glass bottles and rubber nipples in a special device created for this purpose, feeding their infants a formula made up of Carnation cream, boiled water and Karo syrup. No pampers; cloth diapers and, if you could afford it, diaper service which for a weekly fee would do all the dirty work for you, hauling away the the soiled stinkers replacing them with a batch of newly-laundered ones. No tampons either. EW.

No color TVs or VCRs or DVDs. CDs or even 45s? Nope, just 78-inch vinyl discs which we played on the turn table of a record player where an arm that contained a needle miraculously produced the sounds of doo-wop quartets or such favorites as Nat Cole and Billy Eckstein and Sarah Vaughn - and Frank Sinatra and Doris Day. Hi-fi was the big thing before stereo. If you were a jazz buff you pretended to get into the frenzied be-bop of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, or feigned coolness and grooved on other artists like Miles Davis and Dave Brubeck and the 4 Freshmen. No digital cameras. Polaroids with their instant prints were all the rage.

Aaah, those were the days... Thanks for bearing with me while I strolled down memory lane once more. As Lil Wayne sez: "Life is short. A midget tol me dat."

Where is Xeon? There is such a paucity of posters on the board, we couldn't afford to lose one of our main men! But Xeon has gone missing!

Although we agreed to disagree from time to time, Xeon, I appreciated your well-articulated views. Did you desert us for another site? I feel slighted. Where else can you pick a better fight than here? I'm getting rusty. I don't have anyone to argue with. Chrishayden has deserted me for Troy. carey-carey has apparently retreated into the never-never land of non-sequitors, undoubtedly commiserating with a downcast ABM, glum because he is "sans" a "myriad" of booties to salivate over - which further reminds me; what ever happened to our wanna-be this-or-that Serenasailor???

And while I'm at it, this shout-out goes for my "gurls" Yvettep and Ferocious Kitty who have been swallowed up by the ubiquitous Facebook, busily making readers privy to their every move as only a doting mother and aspiring author can do. >>wink-wink<<. Even Kola has given Nafisa Goma time off for good behavior.

Oh well, we still have those keepers of the literary flame, Thumper, Crystal and Linda as well as our faithful Nubian poet laureate And, of course, bookfan, our resident white guy. This is enough to make me consider writing another self-indulgent essay about some other phase of the panorama that has been my life! Let's see. Hummm. Here, here, settle down, people! Just a passing thought.

Wait. What's that you say? Oh. OK. Summertiiiiiiiime and the livin is eeeeeeeeasy.

I am in total agreement with this article, Thumper. I'm a slow reader. There's nothing I appreciate more than "style" in writing.I love a well-turned phrase, and redundant poorly-executed writing distracts me, making me lose my concentration.

Relishing the printed word seems, however, to be an acquired taste and eloquence is fast becoming a lost art. Everybody is in a hurry today, and the shorthand of texting has bastardized the English language. A sign of the times, I guess, and just another reminder that Life is passing me by.

But, maybe, all is not lost for me. Rapper Lil Wayne writes some of the cleverest lyrics I have every heard. His rhymes abound with cadence and flow and rather than distorting the language, he turns words into snippets of wisdom and wit. He amazes me.

Having said all of this, I still might ditch Kitty Kelly's onerous Oprah bio I'm reading. This book is certainly well-written but the subject of it has started to bore me, telling me more about the big "O" than I'm interested in hearing. In fact, the book is a galling reminder that being a bitch doesn't work for everybody. Oprah parlayed it into success. Me, my bitchiness never got past the stage of just providing me with a way to amuse myself. Bwahahahahahahahaha.

OK. I stand corrected. Did you have a hard time absorbing the idea that a Negro was allowed to play Shakespeare in the 1800s? This must've happened up North because they were being strung up in the South. Do some research and tell us more.

How many times do I have to emphasize that I speak only from my personal experience, Chrishayden? "Good Negro" is the operative phrase here. Good negroes practiced civility, and white folks patronized us with a pseudo civility in response. Young people back then didn't dress provocatively, and didn't rebel against their parents or society until the 1950s drew to a close, and the 1960s erupted. The 60s were the pivotal decade for social change! I don't need to do any research when I talk about my individual history. Every thing you claimed went on during this time is colored by the histrionics of your second-hand outrage.

And BTW, the absence of civility that escalated with the passing of the 1950s couldn't be any more graphically illustrated than by the content of the Rap lyrics which have had such an influence on the young. This is not to say that Rap is not an art form, or that the culture it enabled is not a legitimate social phenomenon, but it is to say that the civility of respecting women spawns a greater appreciation for the days when females weren't regularly referred to as bitches and hos

I realize that back in the 1950s things were different in the south, and other parts of the country. Any black person whose experience differs from mine is certainly free to step up and share their remembrances. Or am I challenging your preference for the present. And I never actually said I wanted to regress to the 50s. In the decades that followed, I appreciate having had a ringside seat to a very significant and compelling period in America's growth. But it is still my opinion that everything didn't change for the better.

A return to the simpler things in life can also involve civility. Young people, in particular, seem more disrespectful and brazen now than they were in the past.

I just finished my book club's selection for this month and found it to be a fairly decent read. It is entitled "The Lie" and was written by O.H. Bennett.

What I found engrossing about this novel was its perspective. Instead of being a time-worn tale about the dire consequences that befall a black person unjustly accused of a crime against someone white, this story deals with the ramifications of what happens when a white person is accused by a black person of a crime which he didn't commit.

A small town is the setting for an uprising in the black community where mob action threatens to avenge the murder of a young black man. But the circumstance inciting this reaction are all the result of a lie. A lie is a lie is a lie. A lie knows no color and it does not discriminate when it comes to wreaking havoc and inflaming injustice. Truth is the only thing that can redeem a liar and rectify a crime against humanity, and that's what this book is all about.

Good Grief, Chrishayden! I haven't heard Janell Monae, but I have heard of her. Just read about her album The ArchAndroid in PEOPLE magazine. You'll be happy to learn that the album earned 4 stars. I'll have to check and see if any of my kids have her CD, about which PEOPLE's reviewer wrote: "coming off like a cross between Lauryn Hill, Erykah Badu and a fembot member of OutKast, Monae makes a genre-defying debut that embraces the freak in all of us." Hummm.

You always make things about "Uncle Toms", Chrishayden. You can't lump all Blacks together which is why I inject class into the equation. The guy who wrote the book in question is apparently claiming that the myth of black inferiority is what is making black folks lag behind. I was just commenting on that.

The breakdown in the family which is at the core of all black problems is caused by single women not being able to manage the broods of children the have and are unable to take care of. Those who say abortion is the problem are "right-to-lifers" and their sympathizers who think they can intrude into women's private lives.

It is difficult to sort out the black dilemma because it is full of contradictions as you have just proven. First you put down the frivolous middle class then you admit that they know how to play the game. You persist in making heroes out the underdogs for no other reason than that you have contempt for the upwardly mobile. Underdogs are losers until they prove themselves to be winners. You always blame everybody else for their plight.

I don't pretend to have all the answers to the Black dilemma. All I do is speculate.

A while back on BET, I guess, I saw a hip-hop version of this classic entitled "O". It starred Omar Epps. It wasn't half bad, because it is a story that can be placed in that vernacular.

I think Paul Robeson is considered the quintessential Othello. He was the first black to play this role and he made it his own. Before him, white actors played Othello in black face.

Well, careless-careless, hard not to think your meandering excursion through a mire of inanity which you probably stayed up all night composing is not about me, since you "quoted" me, although in doing so you distorted what I said, altering things to fit your own purposes - as usual. (I never referred to myself as a professional editor.) And altho elsewhere you tried, you again couldn't quite make it. It should've been "what do these words mean", not "what does these words mean"? And it's Hari Krishna not Hara Krista!

And, as usual, you supply your own definitions to make your point. But, once more, you didn't succeed. A whore is somebody who is for sale. So an "attention whore" would sell her attention for monetary gain or favors. Do you know anybody on this board who is being compensated for her attention???? Are you paying me for the attention I bestow upon you? You can't even make a valid analogy. You leave yourself open, always making your assertions a perfect target for a stickler like me. This is why so many of your arguments don't hold weight because your thought processes are flawed by your utilization of twisted logic. Or do you seem to be able to figure out that you bring a lot of flak on yourself because you think you can say anything you please and get away with it. Your MO is not just to dispute an argument but to make far-fetched assumptions about the motivations and life history of your opponents, making up scenarios and adding a few lies just for good measure. You dish it out but you can't take it. Poor ol Carey.

And, actually, you are an attention pimp. Your blog and posts make up your stable of whores. You put them out there hoping to attract clients who will pay the attention that your ego craves.

You say your hobby is writing and bloggin. Well, my favorite passtime is tweaking the noses of "doofusses" like you.

I was asked to give a little insight into the 50s decade and to offer an opinion as to whether things were better then than they are now. Sorting out my sentiments about those times was an exercise in mixed feelings, but I’ve tried, and this one’s for you, Troy.

The 1950s have often been referred to as a time of innocence, and we who made up its younger population were tagged the “silent generation”. Born in the 1930s during the Depression, coming of age during the 1940s when World War I I raged, - the silent generation eventually became a group who rather than rocking the boat, rocked cradles as the 1950s ushered in a time of us marrying and giving birth to those who would come to be known as “baby boomers”.

To set the tone, I’m including the following paragraph which is from a novel I wrote entitled: “Along The Way”. This excerpt provides a snapshot of “the way we were“.

“It was the decade of the 1950s, the bland Eisenhower era that was typified by an “Ozzie and Harriet” wholesomeness. It was the period of television’s golden age, and Russia’s iron curtain, a time of hoola hoops and flying saucers. It was the day of Beatniks and Mouseketeers, Marilyn Monroe and Rosa Parks. It was when Emmett Till was murdered and James Dean killed, when Pat Boone crooned and Elvis Presley gyrated, when “doo-wop” schmoozed and “be-bop” squalled. It was also a time when a growing resentment of racial bigotry was elevating the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. to a position of leadership in an evolving civil rights movement.”

Its hard to characterize the black experience during the 1950s because it differed from region to region, but for me, living in a suburb of Chicago, this was time when black people didn’t challenge the status quo. We stayed in our place, and doing this was no big deal because our place was a comfort zone, and we didn’t really care about mixing with white people, possibly stirring up their latent prejudices. Up north, segregation was not the law of the land, and mine was an interracial landscape rather than an integrated one, which is to say we co-existed with white folks while doing our own thing, enjoying our own music, establishing our own styles, becoming carbon copies of average white Americans. And, because we were good Negroes, white people tolerated us, very often rewarding those who were exceptionally good Negroes.

Although in Korea, thousands of young men were again dying on the battle field, within our communities the crime rate was low. You could leave your doors and cars unlocked and nobody stole anything left unattended. You could walk the streets and ride the trains at night without fear of being mugged. The idea of a village raising a child was a reality. We looked out for each other. Getting pregnant before you got married was considered disgraceful, and a hasty wedding would often rectify this. There was no shackin up during those days, either. The one vice we all seemed to have was smoking cigarettes, This was considered cool and glamorous and just about every body did it. Only musicians used drugs.

Blacks who worked hard and got ahead owned their own cars and bought homes in all- black neighborhoods, and those who got college degrees could get jobs in private industry where "glass ceilings" would remind them of their status. Working for the County or the State or the Federal government also launched many blacks into the ranks of the middle class. Of course, everybody wasn’t a professional or gainfully employed and many folks just scraped along, poor but proud, doing the best they could.

Anyway, as time marched on, and an obsession with Communism swept the country, Negroes began to stir from their complacency, realizing that second-class citizenship was unacceptable in a democracy. While a core of activists took to the streets to protest racism, others lent moral and financial support, and participated in economic boycotts. Martin Luther King was the man of the hour. Non-violence was the tactic and we had our eyes on the prize.

Then, - the 60s exploded on the scene as The Movement took on the militancy of revolution! Malcolm X stepped forward, making room for Bobby Seale and Huey Newton. Negroes became black, all hell broke loose and assassination became the weapon of choice. And, as they say, the rest was history.

Social upheaval was an idea whose time had to come and the 1950s turned out to be the lull before the storm. But who is to say that "still waters didn’t run deep"? The "silent generation" just needed somebody to turn the tide.

When I look back on those days, I realize that ignorance was bliss. But I can’t help but appreciate how stress-free that bliss was. Which was a better time? All I know is that I’m old now and today’s world is so gripped by technology, so addicted to instant gratification, so wounded by violence that returning to a simpler time doesn’t sound so bad.

Just can't resist once again taking pride in how Doc Rivers and Michael Finley of the Celtics, and Shannon Brown of the Lakers are all from my hometown, all graduates of my high school alma mater!!!!! Must be something in the water. Best I was ever able to do, however, was to roll a 220 game for my championship bowling team - back in the day.

Go Celkers!

Oh, stfu, carey. You're the one who said of the millions of people who flood your blog none was as "vengeful" as me. Wooooo. Since you are stalking me you ought to know that I am not reading that rag inspite of how you lied and said that I am a constant visitor.

You are entitled to try and defend your story, seeming to think that because it's really a poem, that gives you a license to kill literary protocol. Unfortunately, your rationale is as incongruent as the story, itself. And for somebody who thinks they are sooo worldly, you are totally oblivious as to how infantile your ego is. Obstinance is not a substitute for talent. No matter how you try to slice it, your story is still baloney and a professional editor would make a sandwich out of it. All that's missing is the mayonnaise that you would probably compare to a melody because you have created your own ignorant standards when it comes to metaphors. And you have the nerve to claim that your stories are all true. Give us break. Your life aint' that compelling. zzzzzzzzz

I realize, Troy, that I am on a slippery slope in my implicit criticism of an author whose book I haven't read. But my reaction has a lot to do with the whole concept of “brainwashing“.

Everybody is brainwashed about something. Soldiers fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq are brainwashed into thinking they’re fighting for “truth, justice, and the American way”.

Are black people under-achievers because they have been brainwashed into believing they are inferior? I don't know that black people feel inferior. I think they are just unmotivated. The underclasses have become superior in figuring out how to get over on the System. Members of the middleclass are superior in exerting their individuality and independence.

Maybe focus should be placed on exorcism instead of brainwashing. A certain segment of the black populace seems to be possessed by a compulsion to have more children than they can take care of. This "demon" is at the core of the problem and it has nothing to do with white folks.

Black America just seems to be in a state of limbo. All problems don't have solutions. Sometimes they just morph and work themselves out.

I'll reply to your question about the 50s in a new post.

Furthermore, the goal of a writer should always be to connect with the reader. Any time he has to go into great detail about what his message is, and further exlain that his metaphors only have significance to him, then he hasn't done his job. He is, in effect, writing for himself; not the reader.

(I guess these remarks will be considered "vengeful" since they are not something regular visitors to Carey's blog would say, - the reason for this probably being that they are on the same level as he is.) But this is not annoying. It's AMUSING. LOL