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Chrishayden

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Posts posted by Chrishayden

  2. Impact of the Million man March

    in Black Literature

    Posted

    15 years later, has the Million Man March had any impact on Black people? Will the Obama presidency? Is it naïve to think that these landmark events should?

    (The Million Man March was just a march. That's it. It was called by Louis Farrakhan, but the overwhelming numbers attending were not in the Nation of Islam and would not be. It was like Woodstock. It was an event. No program was really announced. No one was signed up.

    Back in the day, it was shocking that Black people would march. Now it is not shocking. Instead of massing to deny it, the authorities go ahead and issue your permit, let you protest and you go home and that is it.

    The Obama presidency will have an impact, but less of an impact than we thought--some of the impact will be negative. The election of a Black President has driven some white people--and black people--in this country crazy. Look for intercommunal strife to commence.

    Now, if you are talking about the spiritual realm, both had great impact--on SOME black people.

    I am reminded of a comment a black homeless guy made to me after Sept 11, 2001. Wasn't it horrible what happened, I asked him.

    "For a n****a like me it was just another day," he said.

    The Civil Rights Movement benefitted relatively few materially. It had a powerful influence on Black people's POV etc. The Million Man March had a spiritual impact--that a million black men could get together without fighting and strife was a big deal. That a black man, or half black man, could attain the Presidency will be inspiring to some people. They will believe they can.

    Anything more that would come is gravy.

  6. The Book Reviewer's Regret

    in Black Literature

    Posted

    Ten years later he re-read the book, and he thought it was great. He was at a different place and was now able to appreciate the book. He really regretted writing that unfavorable book review.

    I wondered if anyone had written a favorable review of a book; only to realize over time that the book actually sucked.

    (Ben should take a chill pill. If he honestly thought the book sucked when he read it, then he didn't do anything wrong. This phenomenon is quite common. See the critics' reactions to "Citizen Kane" or other such groundbreaking works. There are many works I just wasn't ready for and only later could see their worth because I had to grow to the point where I could appreciate them.

    That said, I have never written a favorable review that I changed my mind on later. I have been fortunate.

    I did write a review of Cornel West's "Race Matters" that I wish I could amend. Actually, I would not take back any comments I made about the book--I would add in fairness that I had not reviewed Wests other work before reading it--when I realized that he was a philosopher I did not withdraw any of my comments about it being obtuse and rather dense--that is in the nature of philosophical works, though.

    Also I do think that people made too much of it still.

    Ben should write another review correcting the first one--as long as nobody committed suicide over it or sued in for libel no harm was done.

    A woman I know says that she doesn't write reviews because she feels nobody reads them--if you pan a book, people don't know it. They see you reviewed it and go out and buy the book.

  9. Slavery in Haiti

    in Culture, Race & Economy

    Posted

    The Haitian Govt has been practically destroyed by the quake. When it is functioning it is under the thumb of the U.S. Business interests and government.

    They need the slaves down there to make cheap baseballs and sell cheap sex to tourists.

    Aristide tried to do something about this, which is why he was deposed.

    Everybody knows this.

  10. De Self-Hate Debate

    in Culture, Race & Economy

    Posted

    Lately, a person’s attitude about Obama can become what triggers accusations of self-hate.

    "Yes, it can.

    Basically Negroes thought that when he was elected this meant that it we had gained the promised land and we wuz gwine up to hebbin and everything would be peaches and cream--

    Oh well. Negroes, after all, are human, and I'm sure Born Again Christians thought the same thing when George W. Bush got in and Catholics when Kennedy got in etc etc.

    Ya just gotta be real about it. I was willing to give him great leeway because he was going to be President of All the People, not just Black People, and because he owed his ascent to the Chicago Machine and Business leaders and he was half white anyway--

    What I was not going to give him leeway on is not getting the hell out of Iraq and Afghanistan quick as possible and not getting help to the Middle and Working class first.

    I believe it was you, Cynique, who stated that she had never heard of Barack Obama before he ran for the Senate, dispite all his claims to have ties to the community.

    I had heard of him but I would not have put him on my list of Most Important Black People in the Universe. Everybody loves a winner. Most folks will claim to have been behind him since he was born, etc etc.

    I am tired of lying especially about the performance of our elected officials. I am not willing to follow somebody I voted for over a cliff. I must call a spade a spade--even when he is supposed to be Superspade.

    The man was green and he got dealt a really bad hand but he was not drafted. He begged us to give him the job.

    He has made errors, they should be pointed out. His main problem seems to be a belief that we want to dote on his every little comment about everything. He should learn when to shut up.

    Obama is not God. He is the President. He works for US! (And yes, I said it about all the white ones, too). We got a right, in fact a DUTY to call him out--even when he may be right!

    I knew Negroes was not ready for this.

    Stay tuned. You ain't seen nothin' yet!

  11. Obama Cheating Scandal!

    in Culture, Race & Economy

    Posted

    The Tiger Woods of politics is a gross exaggeration. a "related" article on that page shows that the Tiger, who had his worst game as a pro, failed to make the cut at Quail Hollow, had at least 112 liaisons while married.

    "Tiger Woods (is there any doubt as to his race now? He is a dyed in the wall, stomp down Holyghost NEGRO SEX FREAK--but I digress.

    I do not refer to Obama as the Tiger Woods of Politics because of his sex drive. You are obsessed with sex. Saltpeter with every meal and at least five cold showers a day for you--

    I often refer to Woods as The Obama of Golf--

    Now do you get it? Part black, ground breaking long shots who supposedly turned the game on its head and wound up being turned out.

    Clearer now?"

  15. Kola's Other Pen Names

    in Black Literature

    Posted

    Can you imagine how hard it is to be that unbalanced and make any kind of living? Remember two years ago, when Troy met her in person and posted some snapshots of her? Normal people would have welcomed that kind of publicity. She dissolved into a paranoid rage and read him out of her church because those photos portrayed a reality she cannot bear. Do you suppose for one minute that any normal job she's ever held hasn't ended with the same kind of meltdown? Do you remember what she said recently about how hard it is to be "different"? Being "Kola Boof" is something she can do from the safety and solitude of her bedroom.

    (Do you think she is really unbalanced? Or maybe just very high strung and dramatic. You forget that she is an actress. Once an actress, always an actress.

    The actors and actresses I have known always seem to have some sort of drama going. They thrive on it. I think, in fact, that it is part of their mojo, that they need it and create it when there is none.

    I think it comes with the territory of having to use your emotions to work. Sometimes,you get carried away.

    This holds true for other artists, too. Everyone always touts realism in artistic work--but the artist is the ultimate illusionist.

    Take for example, Charles Shulz, the creator and author of the comic strip Peanuts. Part of the so called charm of that half baked crap was that it represented the real view point of some children--and a beagle or two.

    Everybody forgot that behind it was a cranky old man.

    I think what the artist does is very normal--unless he or she forgets they are acting.

    Apres la--Le Deluge.

  18. Hey Carey

    in Black Literature

    Posted

    *LOL* @ Chris, you crack me up!

    But what exactly are you saying by making references to those pimps, playas, and part time movie stars? I've heard that pimpin' ain't easy, and playing around can get a person in trouble, but what are you saying, and how does that apply to me? dry.gif

    CAVS.... NO WAY! But now we can talk about a poor sport, and a cry baby... Les Bron Thron, the verbose showoff, and the forever also-ran.

    (The CAVS--all the way. All the for real playas know dat!

    We shall see....

  19. Goodbtye, White Friends

    in Culture, Race & Economy

    Posted

    Goodbye, White Friends!

    White People Aren't Into Black People Anymore

    By CECIL BROWN

    "I called Clint,” my friend said, as he fumbled through his address book while we sipping a beer in a cafe in San Francisco. Clint?

    “Yeah, you called Clint? Clint who?” I give him another look. “You mean, Clint as in Clint Eastwood?”

    “Yes.”

    “You know Clint Eastwood?”

    “Yeah,” my friend said, “We're friends. I called him but he hasn’t called me back.”

    “Well, maybe,” I think out aloud, “He’s busy with his new movie and some other Black person, like Morgan Freeman.”

    My friend is undaunted. “It’s strange,” he goes on, “I called Francis too, and he hasn’t called me back.”

    “Francis? As in Coppola?”

    “Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on.”

    Before I could get really annoyed with my friend for dropping the names of famous white people, I had to check myself, because my friend really is — or was — friends with these famous people. He’s not just name-dropping. Since the seventies, he knew these famous people though his music. He plays music, and white people, famous or not, like black music — and friendships bloom — and, as the elegy in a churchyard goes, it fades.

    But what my friend is going through is being experienced by a lot of black people. White people, who for reasons various and sundry, used to be more friendly to blacks than they are in this information millennium.

    Doesn’t it seem strange, even stupid, to expect Clint Eastwood to call you back? I personally would not have him in my address book. Not being that into his films to begin with — not since the movie about Charlie Parker’s life — I could not understand his disappointment. Why would he want to be friends with Clint Eastwood anyway? Clint, he insisted could really play the piano.

    I yawned. Give me a break. I interviewed Clint on the set of "Bird," but to get the interview I had to wear a hassid wig and get in line with the extras.

    But my friend is different. It just reminded me of the painful reality — many black people have famous white friends who don’t call them back any more.

    I, too, cannot exclude myself in all this. I, too, have a stack of “white people” I call my friends. But when I call them, they don’t call back any longer.

    For years I have enjoyed the friendship of many famous white people; but to be honest, I have noticed that the phone is not exactly ringing off the hook.

    Would you believe it, there was a time when I’d call Warren and he’d call me back? To be sure, that was many years ago, but that is my point. Back when we hung out in Berkeley, Richard Pryor and I use to meet up with Warren Beatty.

    It all happened because I had sold my book to David Foster, who brought me with him to Vancouver to be on the set with Director Bob Altman and Warren and Julie Christie. As I stood in line watching the actors, during one of the takes, Warren walked over to me and said hello. We were on the set of his movie "McCabe and Mrs. Miller" in Vancouver. Warren walked over to me, the only black person on the set, and said that he heard that I knew Richard Pryor. I said I did. Wow! He would like to meet Richard. When I got back to Berkeley, I told Richard to get his stuff together, we were going to meet Warren, who was the hottest white man alive in those days.

    The three of us had dinner and took in some porn films. By the time, I got to Hollywood, Warren and Richard were steadfast friends and had done tons of nasty stuff that Richard would only hint to me about. Not too long ago, I mentioned to my old friend David Foster that I’d like to see old Warren again. David said, No problem, I’ll call him. That was a year ago! No love from Warren. No love from David.

    Bob Altman, who directed some of the greatest films, was a great friend. We met on the set of his classic film, and I liked his rugged middle American style right away. He didn’t start directing films until his forties, and he had a joking side to him that I related to. When we met in New York, I remember one scene where I was the light of the whole party. Altman was celebrating his newest movie and I was telling stories about growing up in North Carolina to a roomful of people in his hotel.

    Years passed and I saw that he was being celebrated at the San Francisco Film festival. I called David Foster and wondered if Altman would remember me. He was eighty-four then. When I reached through the crowed and pulled his coat, he turned and smiled. I told him that David didn’t think he’d remember me. “You know, David’s problem is that he can’t remember who he is!”

    So Altman has a good reason for not getting in touch with me now, he’s dead.So is my other great white friend, French Film maker Louis Malle. He liked my book Coming Up Down Home so much that after we meet, and talked for an afternoon comparing our different childhood---mine southern poor dirt farming, he upperclass French Bourgoesie---he camed to North Carolina to visit my people. Aunat Amanda, whom he had read about in my book, and whom he met in real life, always asked me about him. “Little, Louie! He was a nice man!” That was real love. But what about the rest of that sorry lot? Those whites who wanted to be so hip that they just had to have a black friend!

    Oh, and what about my old pal Sean Connery. We met on the set of "Rising Sun," where I play “Big Boy,” opposite him. We got along so well because we both enjoyed his national poet Robert Burns. When he was talking about the movie on the Tonight show, he even mentioned me.

    And he told about some directors, Albert Hughes and Allen Hughes, brothers, who were pestering Johnny Depp about his lack of knowledge of black literature, asking him had he read, Iceberg Slim. Depp replied, “Have you read Cecil Brown’s Life and Loves of Mr. Jiveass Nigger?” That would set these black lite Negroes straight! But you’d think that if he was that into my novel, he’d drop a line. Nothing, from that old hipster Johnny Depp!

    It’s not just Americans who used to be into black people. When I lived in Berlin when there was a wall around the city, I was popular and friends with the leading German writers, including Heiner Muller, Volker Schlöndorff (director), Wim Wenders (director), and some that American don’t even know. No love from Berlin these days, either

    I was in Copenhagen about fifteen years ago, and one night I got into a conversation with this Danish producer Peter Aalbæk Jensen. He said that the best films would have a “small story,” without any lights and no artificial music. Some years later, this concept came to be called Dogma. In 2005, I was back in Copenhagen, and I had my modem attached to my laptop, so I would make calls in Copenhagen. Just on a lark, I sent an email to Peter. In my email, I sent over the stuff we talked about that night, because frankly, I never really forgot it. And after I saw their film “Celebration,” I realized that this dude was serious.

    After I sent the email, I’d forgotten about it and was having another beer, when my email went off. I was surprised when the email came back from his secretary. “Yes Peter remembers everything. Come, let us catch up on lost time.” Before you could say, Hans Christian Anderson, I was invited to the film town where he lived outside of Copenhagen. Peter showed up at eleven o’clock. Then as we are talking, here is Lars Von Tier was standing there. Lars just happens to be the coolest mother-humper in the world. We had several meetings talking about race and films. He showed me his Mandelay. These Danish dudes treated me like I was one of them, with full honors and respect and laughter.

    When I came back to the states, I wrote a screenplay and sent it to Denmark. No love from Denmark, not even a farvel.

    And where is Michael Moore? He told me he liked my book and wrote an endorsement in his own handwriting. I called him, but he hasn’t returned my call. All I get from him is emails about President Obama. Just like Obama needs another white friend! What about me? Don’t I need one?

    The new black writers are not black, but white women. The novel that’s selling like hot cakes is a book by a white woman called “Helpers.”

    When I sent my agent my book on my friend Richard Pryor, she wrote back that nobody’s interested in “Mr. Prior.”(Her spelling and her ignorance.) When she meant that if there is a book by a white guy who never met Richard that would be a book she’s interested in.

    I tell my friend how Bill Cosby once told me that the sixties were back again. We were on the set of his movie in Berkeley. He was trying to make fun of the fading situation. But Cosby may be right. When the sixties do come around again, the white people will show up. But this time, we will realize that they are just there for the excitement?

    One of my favorite writers used to be William Hazlitt. He once made a list of all of his friends who disappointed him. He said that he wanted them to know that he wasn’t into them anymore, either. That’s how I see it too. If you notice that white people don’t call you back, great! There is a whole world of white people waiting to be your next best friend.

    I still get return messages from some white friends, though it really doesn’t bother me. I know what the literary agencies are up to, and I know that white authors and playwrights and script writers write all black material. The public is not very discerning these days. Real Black people are not in—white guys writing about blacks are really in.

    I was at home that night when my phone just rang.

    “Hello--”

    “It’s Melvin--”

    “Melvin — as in Melvin van Peebles?”

    “Yeah-bro. What’s up? Man, I was in Paris for the last four months and I saw you called me. I’m just returning your call, bro.”

    Returning my call? See, that’s what I’m talking about! An old-school friend.

    Cecil Brown is the author of I, Stagolee: a Novel, Stagolee Shot Billy and The Life and Loves of Mr. Jiveass Nigger. He can be reached at:

    stagolee@me.com

  20. I Had a Horrible Realization

    in Culture, Race & Economy

    Posted

    Troy Johnson--President CEO of AALBC, HNIC, Top Banana, Duke of New York, De Mayor of Harlem, and all round swell guy, send me some AALBC literature recently. It contained a profile of your typical AALBC habitue.

    I was startled, though, if I had the brains of a gnat, to discover that that person was female, well educated, reasonably well off financially.

    I gasped in astonishment! I choked back a horrible blood curdling scream. I almost strangled on my pig snoot sammich (served St. Looie style with the potato salad on top).

    All this time I suppose I have been behaving as though the viewers were like me. Yes, that would be warm, funny, popular and good looking, too.

    But it would also mean persons given to a sort of raunchy style of humor. A risque style of expression. A taste for the bizarre in sexual matters....

    But I digress. Visions of church ladies in big ole pink hats and white gloves stampeded in sensible pumps through my feverish brain! It occurred to me that, rather than sharing my rather ribald and boisterous POV (no doubt due to the Negro blood in my veins) they might be horrified. That they might see me as--choke! I can't say it--THE OLD DIRTY BASTARD OF AALBC!!

    Your comments, please.

    Feel free to lie like rugs to avoid hurting my tender feelings, by the way.

  23. Hey Carey

    in Black Literature

    Posted

    "So what about that book?

    This is Lebron's year. Bet on it."

    y, I might have been in Atlanta while you were stuck in the house.

    "All of us can't be pimps, playas, and part time movie stars. You gotta have discipline to do that book. Chain yourself to that blank page and stare at it until you go insane and then vomit up all over it."

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