Cracka rap needs more ass.

The Food & Wine Hedonist recently asked me to write a music piece for his blog.  GO READ THAT SHIT. It’s about the white parent raps that go viral and annoy the shit out of everyone. BOOM!

CLICK HERE for some food and wine hedonism, sprinkled with commentary from yours truly about how people should eat shit.

I’m adding North Korea to my list of White People Problems.

“Sometimes we laughed. We didn’t know when to laugh or not.”
-Shin Dong-huyk

It’s been my view for quite some time now that utilizing free market economics is the best way for nation states to achieve political gains as it relates to liberty and equality.  So I don’t really get down with the U.S. when it places economic sanctions on another country because they’re not doing what we want, even if it’s with good intentions.  When you stop trading goods with a country for any reason, the top officials you’re trying to send a message to still get their shit. Those assholes at the top, making decisions and being dick-squeezes? They still get food and whatever the fuck they want. They just don’t get it from you.  It’s the average Joe who gets hurt.  They’re the ones who no longer have access to whatever we were trading with them.  It just adds to the hardship they were already experiencing from whatever tyrannical political leadership that rules their lives.

I recently read an article about the executives at Google going into North Korea to “discuss the free and open internet.”  And, while I agree with their leadership that North Korea’s economic growth will continually be stunted by their lack of internet access, I couldn’t help but thing, “What a bunch of naive assholes.”

With that being said, let me tell you who can suck my dick as it relates to North Korea. Anyone who turns a blind or ignorant eye to the reality of suffering, that’s who. And you know what?  Same goes for turning a blind eye to the reality of pain in the lives of anyone around you, or in any other neighborhood, city, state, country, or people group. Shit just isn’t as simple as you’d like it to be. You can’t just reason it away in order to make yourself feel better. It’s a fucking mess. The problems are complicated, and the solutions even more complex.

In the documentary Camp 14: Total Control Zone, Shin Dong-huyk was born in a forced labor camp in North Korea. He was one of 160,000 forced laborers in North Korea.  His first memory was that of a public execution.  All the prisoners were forced to watch the public executions. He was about 4 or 5, when he saw this. What are people executed for in North Korea? Not “working hard”. Being “disobedient”.  His first feeling he remembers was that of panic, at this particular public execution.  He is the only person ever to be born in a North Korean forced labor camp to escape to the West.

He had a little friend when he was 6 years old. She had hidden a few grains of wheat in her pocket. They were always starving.  Everyone in the labor camp.  The school teacher decided this warranted beating the young girl from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.  I’m sorry, but can I just stop and say right now and ask you, “Does that seem real… when you read that???”  I want you to fight the desensitization to the fact that this shit is happening AS YOU READ this stupid blog.  That young girl finally fell unconscious to the floor. Her little friends carried her home. She was dead the next day from an infection in her head wounds.  I think of my 4-year-old, who is constantly collecting little things off the ground outside to bring to me. Rocks. Leaves. Flowers.  The contrast of the two girls’ lives is stark in my mind.

In the camps, families are not allowed to be together. Every human is treated as less than an animal. Less than a worm. You have no rights. You don’t have a right to eat, sleep, move, date, make friends.  All of these decisions are made for you. Your diet consists of maize and cabbage soup. If you are ever lucky enough to taste meat, it is that of a rat that you catch yourself (in your house).

Women will submit to sex with the guards, with the hope that life will be easier if a guard likes them. Hoping a child with a guard will keep them alive, they will try to get pregnant.  Instead, these women are killed.  Shin’s father received Shin’s mother as a wife, as a reward for good labor.  People are used as currency.  Trafficked.

The only societal value you are taught is that of suspicion toward everyone around you.  Everyone watches each other, spies on each other, in the event that you are disobedient. Then you are publicly criticized. Beatings are the norm. There is no sense of loyalty to another person. There is no compulsion of love. You are not compelled to protect one another. You are so hungry, all your mind tells you to do is to act in such a way that maybe you will survive better. Eat something. Shin was 14 years old, laying on a prison floor, deformed and burned from fire torture, before he felt what human affection and emotional support feels like from another. An old man who tended his wounds, and told him “You must survive.”  He returned to the labor camp to watch his mother’s and brother’s public execution, which was Shin’s fault. He had reported them for hatching an escape plan from the labor camp.  He felt nothing as he watched them die. The concept of family was completely foreign to him. He felt anger toward his mother, blaming her for the torture he had experienced in the prison after he had reported them.  He didn’t cry as he watched her die.  He hadn’t learned that you’re supposed to cry when your mother is executed.

Eventually, Shin escaped the camp with the sheer purpose of getting his hands on some meat. He had been told about this meat called “chicken” from China.  He wanted to try this meat. He didn’t care about freedom– the concept was foreign to him. But he had been told about food by a man in the labor camp who hadn’t been born there. He wanted to taste the food.   He attempted escape with this fellow prisoner who had told him about the chicken.  That man died on the electric fence surrounding the camp.  The weight of his body made a hole in the fence large enough to allow Shin to crawl over his back, and out through the fence.

Which leads me to wonder… whose backs are being offered to us, so that we can fulfill our purpose in life, become who we are meant to be, tell the story we are meant to tell??  We are not alone, friends. We cannot live alone. We are social beings, which Shin himself confesses he had never known or understood until he landed on the floor of the camp prison after being tortured with fire, as the old man cleaned his burn wounds. Whose wounds are you cleaning? In your prison? Who are you tending to in their pain, to show them what they are truly worth?

Shin Dong-huyk maintains that, in all his meetings with political figures and NGOs, he has yet to find a clear answer on how to address the terrible reality that resides within North Korea, his home.

When asked what he misses about North Korea, Donghuyk says “I miss my innocent heart.”

Until the quiet comes.

Flying Lotus – Until The Quiet Comes [short film, dir. Kahlil Joseph]

Featured Songs (in order of appearance):
“See Thru To U” (feat. Erykah Badu)
“Hunger” (feat. Niki Randa)
“Getting There” (feat. Niki Randa)

The only thing we know is Work hard, Play hard.

Worky Jerky getting the best of you?

I’d much rather write about a bunch of bullshit on the internet than sit in this cubicle and work. Even if I DO look hot in these tweed slacks.  My mind explodes with the useless shit I plan to shower on you in the coming weeks. I’m recruiting some sexy assholes to help me with this. Let’s face it, I’m a lazy muthafucka. I choose the elevator over the stairs probably 3 out of 4 times. My love handles say to you “You’re welcome.”

I’m feeling inspired this week. What’s making your panties wet, people?

How can I get my filthy hands on a dwarf?

I’m with my in-laws and I’m horny.

Back up.

It was Christmas day and I’m watching a movie with my in-laws.  “The Station Agent”.  With Peter Dinklage. You might know him as Tyrion Lannister from the Game of Thrones series on HBO.  He plays the dwarf. (Because he is a dwarf).

The dwarf makes me hot.  I would let Peter put his Dinklage in my pachinko.

peter dinklage2Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against dwarves. I’ve just never had the opportunity to feel compelled.  Do we as a society hide them? It can’t possibly be that I’m not seeing them because they’re small. I notice children, for instance, all the time. Maybe it’s because the children are loud…  Maybe someone can help me further understand any societal discrimination as it relates to dwarves. It’s a topic I’m unfamiliar with.

But what I do know is that, when it comes to swagger, Peter erases any doubt in my mind that we would have nothing short of a fucking FABULOUS time together. He even has a nice voice, which makes my panties drop.  I mean, just look at those sexy forearms.

I think it helped that I am familiar with him as the badass, super-strategic Tyrion Lannister because, in “The Station Agent”, he plays this lonely emo character. And ya’ll know how much of a turnoff that emo shit is to this bitch. I usually just want to tell people to put on their big girl panties and take life by the balls. If you gotta lick those balls every once in a while to get what you want, then goddamnit lick the balls.  Ain’t no other way to live.  But he has his reasons, and he also grows and develops as a character, so it didn’t detract from his sexy dwarf hotness.  And it was a great movie.

The only thing I regret about the experience was finding myself on the floor, playing with the toddler, in-laws to my left and my right, knowing there was absolutely no relief in sight for my poor vagina.

Pimpin’ ain’t dead cuz I be the lifeline.

Well it looks like someone found this blog by googling “Troi getting fucked”. I’m glad you all are paying attention to the blatant sexuality within Star Trek: Next Generation that I find just downright offensive.

You know, I had thought about writing something prior to the election, but I really just didn’t have the time for you sexy crackas. But now… now I do. And the amount of bullshit being spewed in your direction by the media has likely been cut in half which, like your vagina, leaves a nice wide margin for MY bullshit. You’re welcome, little grasshoppers.

It strikes me as funny that we as Americans are so keenly aware of our consumer culture, full with disgust by the Christmas shopping tramplings for $3 coffee makers and tickle-me-elmos, yet have a striking lack of self-awareness when it comes to our consumerism when it comes to politics. We’re the SAME MUTHAFUCKAS, people! The average person who falls for the marketing gimmick on Monday is the same person who votes on Tuesday. And we fall for the same bullshit. Like “Republicans hate women” and “Democrats hate babies”. Now, at the end of the day, it’s clear that certain political parties don’t seem to understand real economics, or actual structural racism (or solutions thereto, respectively), but this isn’t exactly what I’m talking about.

It’s clear to me that American political figures (and more so Presidential figures) act as the face of a brand. Each political party is trying to sell you something. It’s similar to the Bud Light commercial showing you a hot girl in a bikini drinking low-calorie beer. If you drink our beer, you will look like her, feel like her, have what she has. And we all know that’s a bunch of bullshit. But we still behave as though it’s true. So these political figures tell us some bullshit about what they will help us become as a nation. How we will be, what we will feel. Are you picking up what I’m laying down? They make you believe that they will make you richer, that the other will make you poorer, that they respect you, that the other wants to control you or love you and leave you.  That they will fix your family and strengthen all families for generations to come, while the other hates you and wants to destroy your freedom to love.

There are seeds of truth in all lies. That’s why they are so goddamn convincing.  I would like to challenge you to be smarter than this. Have some goddamn self-awareness.  Now that the election is over, maybe you will hear me… American politics is a marketing game just like any other.  Can you see through it?

There seems to be a fear of non-“Christian” elements coming into positions of power and influence in our country. As though the “Christian” elements have been so amazingly positive.  May I, for an instant, question this root assumption? We’ve got a fucking hot new senator from Hawaii that is Hindu, and a sweet mature honey from Hawaii that just won the senate seat, being the first Buddhist U.S. Senator.  That’s hot.  “I certainly believe in the precepts of Buddhism and that of tolerance of other religions and integrity and honesty,” she said when she first joined Congress (Huff Post Religion).  Wait wait wait…  Isn’t this what America was founded on??? Freedom of Religion??? Freedom from the European stronghold on what we believe and how we live that out??? God Bless America. Now we have strong, faithful Americans leading us… “us”… The diverse and varied people groups that stand on a thousand different traditions that fortify our identities and sense of self and family and community… ready and willing to dream and build a strong country that is built from the grassroots up. It spans the political and ethnic/racial spectrum. Please, be willing to look across the political and ethnic/racial aisles in America, and see someone who wants something as simple and pure as you do, and is willing to do their small part.

I am a Christian. I am a political moderate. I am a cynic. I am a feminist. I hate abortion. I am a rebel. I am an economist that understands the black market. And I am a marketer. Which means I understand the game, and I’m willing to play it. But my idea of winning may not be something that makes you very comfortable. And I don’t expect you to pander to my ideas so that we can be friends. That would be expecting bullshit, correct?

I want my baby where that cake and that icing is.

Get the money, get the money, that’s what I know
I’m hoping that my seeds know a little more than I know
I know, I know, but baby this what I know
If we ever settle down, well baby this what I hope

Please let her be a hustla, baby be a hustla
Hope my baby girl grows up to be a hustla
Let her be a hustla, baby be a hustla
If not, then you’re only a customer

~The Roots, ‘Hustla’, How I Got Over (2009)

Alright all you sexy geeks and gangstas. I’ve got to throw out a little word of gratitude. Every single person who has read this blog or left your amazing and demented ideas in the comments, or even contributed ideas and stories for me to expound upon– you have been part of a very serious event, for which I am quite grateful. Let me ‘splain.

I started writing this blog shortly after leaving my career back in January, in order to stay home and care for a very sick little baby. I had just turned 30, I was fat from being pregnant, complete with saggy stomach skin that was challenging, DARING even, every pair of pants I owned to look normal. I was adjusting to staying at home, which I had never seen myself doing, and I was exhausted and an emotional wreck from my baby’s health scares, extended hospital stays, open heart surgery, and other issues. I was grieving the loss of my career, and my friends who I’d made as colleagues from across the country, because I wasn’t sure I would ever see them again. In short, I basically felt like I’d lost my life, myself, and it had all been replaced with bittersweet heartache.

Recently, Sugardaddy’s cousin had her kid in the hospital for four days with an infection. Seems like a short stay, but to a mother even one night is an eternity. This was also one event in a string of difficult health scares they’d had within the past 6 months. Now, I don’t know how many of you have kids, but if you don’t, I can’t really explain to you what they do to you. They basically take over your heart and soul. There’s no other way for me to explain it. They move in, settle all their shit all up in your soul, permanently occupying every cell in your body.

So I emailed her and just let her know that I was thinking about her, and if she needed to talk or get negative with someone, that’s my specialty. She asked how we’d done it. How had we coped with months and months of what she had recently gotten a small but very heavy and real taste of?

So I began to give that a lot of thought.  I’m not suggesting you do any of these things necessarily, but they worked for me, so farbeit for me to deny you the truth. I touched on a couple of these things a little bit back in February, in my post about how to settle the fuck down.

1) Own it. Get real with the fact that life fucking sucks today (or this week, month, year, etc.). Denial is not going to get you anywhere. Just own that shit.

2) Move your sexy ass. Now, crises in life can be paralyzing. I want to warn you of that if you haven’t experienced that before. It’s depression, really, but if you find yourself paralyzed, for the love of God GET UP AND MOVE! I don’t care if you walk in circles in your living room, just move. Do. Not. Stop. Moving. Which brings me to…

3) MEDICATE. I’m serious people. Get yourself some antidepressants, and please do not stop taking them. Just freakin’ take them. Hustle ’em up off the streets if you have to. Take that shit.

4) Drink. And I mean draaaaaank! Drink** yourself something that, to a degree, numbs the pain and fear in your sweet little soul.  **Please drink responsibly by not driving directly thereafter.

5) Lose yourself. What I mean by this is, do something occasionally that really lets you check out. My personal favorite is to go dancing with friends who make me feel good. But maybe you prefer reading or fishing or running. I’d do a lot of running when the baby was in the hospital. For some reason, it felt cleansing to go out and run so hard that it just hurt. Like I was purging pain from my heart and mind.

6) Fuck. If you don’t know already that sex makes you feel AMAZing, then I’m sorry for you. But it’s fucking science. It releases all kinds of endorphins and shit that make you feel so good that it keeps you coming back for more. Over and over and over… just do it. I don’t care who you fuck– mama ain’t here to judge. Just be safe and try to only fuck people who don’t leave you feeling like shit afterward. Let’s not perpetuate the hard times you are already experiencing.

7) Dump. And this is where all you mutherfuckers come in. This blog has been a really nice place for me to just dump all the shit in my head so I don’t have to carry it around inside all the time. And I think this has been a really important part of the processing that must be done when coping with crisis. It’s okay to get cynical, negative, sarcastic, etc. But find a place to deposit all that shit, and move on. You’re going to need to emerge from the place of pain you are in eventually.  I think that process gets stunted if you hold on to the negativity.

So I want to thank you all for basically being my garbage recepticals. Kisses!

Mama just got a job, so I don’t know how often I’ll be throwing shit up on this blog, but I always love good material to get stupid about, so feel free to send stuff my way at thiswaygeeks@gmail.com.

I love you assholes. Get in here, let’s hug it out!!!!