Penelope Anonymous

An Unnecessary Crucifixion: Because Everyone Wants to Read Another Tiger Woods Post.

2009-12-09T12:38:00.000-08:00

Figure 1.1 illustrates the sporting events we would watch, if we drove away all the athletes who are guilty of infidelity. This is not to say that adultery is okay. It IS to say that the media should cover something else, because "wealthy athletic man who isn't monogamous" hardly qualifies as breaking news to me.

Briefly.

2009-11-16T16:35:00.000-08:00

Briefly, because quite frankly I don't have time to devote to a long post that might be considered thought-provoking...
Nonetheless, I saw this today while I was off-task in the library, it made me laugh, and it was thought-provoking for me.
Here is the thought:
this is pretty funny.

I laughed not because I am amused by Samuel Peralta Sosa, but because I'm sure his decidedly fairer look is going to prompt somebody somewhere to strike up a dialogue about the immortal color complex.
I laughed because I'm sure that whatever they say, they'll be wrong.
I hope I have time to elaborate at some point.

I'm Black, I Live in America...and I'm Not Watching That.

2009-07-22T20:22:00.000-07:00

I hate when people do things like this. 'Things like this' means 'make deliberately inflammatory statements that seem to be geared toward a controversial stir, but ultimately make the speaker look stupid.' And of course, since I'm the speaker in this instance, I'm going to defend my actions.

I'll start by saying that I'm not refusing to watch CNN's program in an effort to boycott the station or the concept. I'm just not watching it. If you must know, I'm on the porch listening to Motown's Greatest Hits. However, what I AM refusing is the acceptance of the obligation other black people are trying to put on each other to watch it.

What for?

People watch shows like 'Flip This House' so that they can learn to flip their houses. They watch 'The First 48' to shamelessly follow the exciting events of a murder as it unfolds. They watch 'Real Housewives' to see how a supposedly elite segment of women operate. They watch 'Little People, Big World' to get a glimpse into the lives of people with a particular life challenge.

Being black is none of those things.

The black experience can't be learned as one learns to flip a condo on South Beach. I certainly hope THAT'S not why black people are forcing one another to watch it. It's not a spectacle to be comfortably ogled like a gang shooting on 'First 48'. The appeal of the Real Housewives is that we don't know them, and they'd like to convey a sense of untouchability; black people are not as inaccessible as Bravo's botoxed bunch (though some may think otherwise). So if you aren't black, and want to know about being black, perhaps asking your friendly neighborhood African-American would be a more effective plan of action. And, if you think that being black is just like a physical setback like dwarfism, it's my belief that you have deeper issues than the Cable News Network can address for you.

So, there's that whole thing. Then, there's the following: even if it's the most eye-opening, ground-breaking, thought-provoking series, 'Black in America' is a needle in a haystack. 'Flavor of Love' is the haystack. 'Tiny and Toya' are the haystack. Hell, BET is the haystack. Thugging it and Loving it is the haystack (I'll try to create a subsequent post for that; it needs more than a line). Barbara Norton is the haystack (I'm after her blood, too. Just wait.) There's just so much other 'black' media from which blacks and non-blacks get their entertainment fix. If you ask me, and I know you didn't, the show is an unfortunate futility.

When is 'Black in Italy' coming out? Or 'Black in Brazil'? 'Black in Great Britain'? I guess I shouldn't hold my breath for those, and I guess America should make up its mind. Either there's nothing different about being black (and I'd disagree, but we've been trying to pretend that much is true), or there's something so different about the AMERICAN experience, that being black warrants having its own show.

As I said, I'm not watching because I'm preoccupied; I'm sitting out here listening to Motown's Greatest Hits. However, I'm rocking out to Marvin and little Michael and the Supremes and maybe I am thinking that THIS is black in America...and I'm starting to think that maybe I planned this preoccupation a little more than I'm letting on.

Where Were You?

2009-06-25T17:46:00.001-07:00

My mother and I had just come home from Tony's Seafood; I remember thinking the coverage was a 'Saturday Night Live' skit
(the night Princess Diana was killed)

It was my eighth birthday; we watched the car chase on TV as I ate cake.
(the OJ Simpson murders)

I was in Mrs. Frost's chemistry class and our assistant principal announced it over the intercom
(9/11)

I was folding clothes in my room; I never thought this would be a clothes pile I'd tell my kids about.
(Michael Jackson dies)

...Where were you?

Panty Fiends Have Feelings, Too.

2009-03-03T13:41:00.000-08:00

I love panties almost as much as I love being recalcitrant.

However, I may be the only person who was not excited to learn that Victoria's Secret was expanding their PINK Collegiate Collection to include Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

Of course, I took the time out to contact ol' Vicky and express this.

Below is a copy of that correspondence.

"Victoria:

I understand why you might want to include HBCU's in your PINK Collection. I also understand that there exists a forum in which we can nominate out universities for inclusion. However, I would like to go on the record as being AGAINST my alma mater's inclusion in the PINK Collection. I have nothing against Victoria's Secret's PINK (even though I can't fit any of it; I'm 5'8", 125 pounds, but I'm a 34DD).

I do not support the inclusion of Xavier University in the PINK Collection because I feel that it will further encourage girls to go to class looking shoddy and sloven. True, college should not be a fashion show. Still, I believe that young women should be encouraged to take pride in their appearances, their hygiene, and their self-presentation, just as they ought to take pride in their education. I can only imagine the influx of girls who would deem it acceptable to show up to class wearing sweatpants, camis, and flip-flops, with PINK stitched across their hindparts. Hopefully you understand this perpective and, although I may be singular in my resolve, I thank you in advance for considering all viewpoints.

Feel free to contact me with any questions, comments, concerns, or malfunctions.
Sincerely,

(Penelope remains anonymous)

Xavier LA, Class of 2008"

I'll be sure to let all 2 of my readers know what response I get, even if it's an automated response. Especially if it's an automated response, actually. I'll be livid.

Contact them yourself here

Untitled Animosity.

2009-02-18T17:59:00.000-08:00

I used to make fun of the 43rd President because he was an oaf. Just plain stupid. But he was always stupid George W. Bush with the lowest approval rating in history...never stupid white trash George W. Bush. Apparently I wasn't doing anyone any favors by sparing him such racial epithets.
Apparently that kind of thing is still okay.
Today I came to the realization that I live inside a bubble that is my race. I am, and have always been, open-minded but today I know for sure that something is different for me than it is for the rest of the world. Perhaps my Southern upbringing has skewed my perception of progression. I live in a city that is--fifty years since Brown v. Board of Education--still desegregating its schools. Maybe the strong tradition of orality in my family has kept the stories of a bygone era too alive for me, while those truths remain invisible ghosts to the rest of you, too distant to be disturbing. Whatever the reason, it's different here in the bubble. In the bubble, we see images like this and are sickened. We are frustrated. And unfortunately, we are silent.
Today I was sick with confusion after seeing the editorial, and further nauseated when other bloggers and news sites tried to feed me bullshit about the purpose of the cartoon. I KNOW that the murdered primate is an allusion to Travis, the chimpanzee who gave a performance worthy of a "COPS" episode yesterday when he mauled his owner's friend. I KNOW this, and I do not care. I couldn't believe that most assessments I read pointed first to the author's "satirization of the economy," and then mentioned that race MIGHT be a slightly darker undertone.
Yes. And the sun MIGHT be slightly warmer than my floor lamp.
There is a dead monkey who is alleged to be the author of the stimulus bill. WHAT MORE was needed in order for this to be wrong? I don't care how thought provoking this Delano character usually is. What he submitted for national publication today is abhorrent. People are losing jobs by the hundreds daily, and this man will be allowed to return to work tomorrow despite being responsible for one of the most insulting and unimaginative pieces of propaganda I've seen.
Further, I was frustrated. Frustrated to know that tried my damndest to leave my bubble. I had warned everybody who would listen to me to support the man who has become President as exactly that--as a man. I begged my peers and like-minded counterparts to resist the temptation to support him as our President, because he is everyone's President. But maybe we SHOULD have hailed him as the Black Messiah--why not? Black Messiah, dead monkey, you take your extreme and I'll take mine, right? This all made me want to scream. But who is the only person who acts as my voice? Al damn Sharpton. Nobody--black nor white--takes Al Sharpton seriously (nor should they). I'm not sure who is still letting him be the poster child for equal opportunity, but what can you do?
So, back into the bubble I go. What will happen to these sentiments I have, I'm uncertain. The heat of my frustration and hurt may boil up in here, but there is likely no point in letting it stew into a rage. It will probably congeal again into complacency and quiet disdain, because despite every step of progress someone will still see one of the most phenomenal men alive as subhuman.

PETA, or Penelope's Enemies; They're Annoying

2009-01-13T14:28:00.000-08:00

It is usually insignificant.

The news bytes or world developments that incite new posts may have changed someone's world, brightened or destroyed someone's life, brought hope or despair to some group of people somewhere. But in the grand scheme of things, they are minutiae. They just happen to rub me the wrong way. My last post (for me it was like yesterday, sort of) was brought about by the pesky heirs to the MLK legacy. It was a relatively mundane happening, but for me it unearthed my deeper feelings about race and complacency and...well, you can read. It's right below this one. Today's post is not unlike that one. Today PETA has pissed me off.

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals has embarked upon another self-righteous crusade. The annoying band of animal rights activists is endeavoring to get people to stop referring to fish as "fish," and to call them..."sea kittens." Read the details of this buffoonery .

Why does this incense me so? Why does PETA get under my skin and vex me this way?

They throw their weight around for naught. I am using the term "weight" here loosely, because I doubt all of the tofu and soybeans will really pack on the pounds. But what I mean is, these people are allowed to get away with anything in the name of animal rights. They are free to douse fur-wearers in flour and red paint with impunity. Animal exploitation is a no-no, but human exploitation? Suuuuuure!

I eat meat. That's what these here molars are for. Yes, you could live an active and healthy lifestyle without meat or animal byproducts, but why should I have to?

I support animal testing. And so should anyone who is, who knows, or who loves, a cancer survivor. That is all.

I support Michael Vick. I'm glad this is a fledgling blog, to say the least. I really don't feel like handling an influx of hate mail right now (you're welcome to send it, though...all 2 of my readers). But yes, I support Michael Vick. I believe that he was made into a martyr for the animal rights cause and for what? Dogfighting kills 16,000 dogs every year. Michael Vick (allegedly) took part in the act, so he gets sent up to make $12.89 a year while the surviving dogs get their own wine and a National Geographic special? Drunk driving kills about 16,000 people each year. Paris Hilton was found guilty of taking part in that act, and she went to jail for thirty...whole...minutes.

Asinine initiatives bother me. If you would like to forgo teaching your children the dangers of sex and drugs in favor of teaching them about "sea kittens"...remind me never to let my kids play with your kids. PETA sponsors initiatives like "Unchain a Dog Month." Really? I guess those of us who don't desire to be a human vector for the rabies virus are sooooo crazy.

I think what bothers me the most, though, is that PETA is a powerful lobbying machine. I disagree wholeheartedly with the way in which they do business. Nonetheless, they have clout in the media and on Capitol Hill to an extent. Thus, the moral (and there should always be one) to today's fable is that we (Penelope included) should be equally proactive for the things about which we are passionate. It doesn't make sense at all for children in this country and abroad to go hungry at night, as long as little bunny rabbits can play safely on grassy knolls. Over 900 people have lost their lives to date in the most recent Gaza conflict...but we're worried about sea kittens. Annually, 1.3 million women endure domestic violence. Celebrities like Mary J. Blige have founded organizations such as FFAWN to help uplift women...too bad PETA slams Mary J and friends because they occasionally wear fur.

Make your own priorities, and give them a voice. That is all.

A Dream Deferred: A Blogger's Virginity

2008-10-15T09:10:00.000-07:00

Initially I did feel obligated to have some elaborate rite of passage into the blogosphere; I've often thought that blogging was a self-absorbed and pretentious effort to force people to care about one's (probably asinine) viewpoints, or pseudo-entertaining links found while surfing the internet (instead of working). However, I read an article today that spurred my desire for catharsis via computer and as such,the preceding lines are all I have to offer in the way of a graceful entrance to blogolescence.

There's a rampant and lethal complacency amongst members of my generation. I myself will admit to it-- at times militant does seem to be the new chic, a shoddy substitute for genuine awareness and conscientiousness. Occasionally we stir from this cultural coma, raising fists for the Jena Six or rallying our brethren for the upcoming Presidential election. The only spectacle sadder than individuals who fail to cherish that which our parents and grandparents fought for is when that individual's parents were Dr. and Mrs. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Enter the King Kids. Today, your local news source will probably inform you that apparently they've tired of suing other people over the legacy they had no part in building. Apparently their new pastime is tying each other up in litigation. The late Mrs. King's personal papers are now the subject of contention amongst the remaining Kings. Martin Luther King III (let's call him "Trey") is demanding the rights to their mother's mementos for a book deal. How sweet.

This isn't the first time the Kinglets have sold the dream to the highest bidder. Little Trey King et al hocked MLK's "I Have a Dream" speech rights for a Cingular ad campaign. They charged the Library of Congress $20 million for the right to archive their father's papers. They threw tantrums demanding a portion of the proceeds from various memorial projects dedicated to Dr. King. They attempted to sue anyone who said the word "dream" for copyright infringement. (Sigh) the last allegation is indeed false, but the preceding are all fact. They're all testament to the sad, sad possibility that, Dr. King (who was no saint, don't get me wrong) dedicated himself to leaving a legacy for which all mankind would be free to enjoy... and his children are neither grateful, nor do they want anyone (outside of the Fortune 500, maybe) to enjoy a part of what is our own history.

This is disappointing, to say the least. The Kings are a disgrace, in so many words. But it's also frightening, to think that maybe most of us are the King kids. We are the sons and daughters of great generations of fighters, of activists, of rebels, and of royalty. But more often than not,we throw it away, or worse--we sell it.