Midnight Riders

Since I met my wife nearly five years ago, my life and social circle has taken on a decidedly more global and international slant.  I often find myself as the the only American in the room, which, frankly, has become much easier to handle when Barack Obama was elected president.  But when I'm in a room of international folks, especially lots of Africans, I find myself realizing just how uniquely American we African-Americans are.  Despite our (to put it lightly) troubled history with this country, we still have cultural traditions that are unique to our experience in America that we should rightly feel proud of.  For instance, I come from a family that, for years, has taken deep pride in military service, and that is a strain in African-American culture that weaves itself through American history all the way back to, I suspect, Crispus Attucks.  And at every step of this long experiment, in every corner of every story that is part of the American epic, African Americans are there.

I absolutely love all of the cultures of Africa that I've encountered, particularly exploring the differences and similarities between Ghanaians and Nigerians and Ugandans and Kenyans, et. al.  I share in their irritation when someone ignorantly speaks of "Africa" like a single country and denies their distinctiveness.  But I also bristle a bit at African-Americans who speak wistfully about "returning" to Africa.  Africa, the continent, and the 50+ nations within it are about as new and different to the average African-American as Europe or Asia.  We can immigrate there to join our extended family in the diaspora, but the only African-Americans who can return there are recently naturalized visitors and our long dead ancestors.

Anyway, I've been recently a bit obsessed with modern Western culture after stumbling across a rodeo event on cable - which was quiet thrilling, btw.  It's a side of America that I think is most considered and imagined outside of our country, but exists as it's own world within our world, often hidden from the broader American media discourse.  So, this video I found on Vimeo really grabbed me, both for its cinematic beauty and its content.  Enjoy.


Wildcat from WHAT MATTERS MOST on Vimeo.

What's equally interesting to me is that the cowboy tradition is really just the most recent version of the Vaquero trade that was brought over to the Americas by the Spanish, so even something as uniquely American as the cowboy has his roots in a culture of color.

Brothers on Trayvon

High-Profile Black Actors pay tribute to Trayvon Martin: "Little Black Boy Wonder"

The Only Thing That Should Matter about Trayvon Martin

Before an armed stranger stalked him in the middle of the night, Trayvon Martin had committed no crimes.

None.

Up until the moment a man with a gun started chasing him.

For no reason.

Let me repeat that.

A complete stranger with a GUN was stalking him at night.

Not a cop or a security guard.  Not even a man who owned a property where Trayvon was trespassing. A total stranger with absolutely NO authority of any kind whatsoever was STALKING HIM WITH A GUN.

And Trayvon had committed no crimes.

A court of his peers may decide that George Zimmerman did not, according to the letter of the law, murder Trayvon Martin (and, sadly, that does sound like the direction we're heading).

But I guarantee you that George Zimmerman knows, in his heart, that he is a murderer.

And that thought either makes him feel remorse or it makes him feel pride.

Consider that for a moment.

Wayne Brady is right

So, first, a tiny bit of context, in the video link below.

Wayne Brady on Bill Maher on Obama's Blackness

For hundreds of years, Black slaves in this country were denied the chance to even learn rudimentary reading and writing skills. The ability to articulate was crime, often punishable by beatings, mutilations, and even death. Articulation was literally the next step in evolution and denying this to blacks was a key to maintaining the falsehood that we were less than human.

Articulate African Americans were literally not allowed to be Black by the racist structure that had enslaved them.

There was a time that eloquence and grace were attributes to be valued. Think of Paul Robeson, or Harry Belefonte, Jackie Robinson, or Dr. King, or Malcolm. Respect and poise were never confused with weakness. Far from it: they were signs of strength, self control, and maturity.

Anyone who hoped that voting for a Black president meant you'd be putting a thug in the White House really ought to re-think their understanding of what it means to be an African American.  And I mean that even more for the African Americans who happen to read this than our Caucasian brothers & sisters out there.

In Defense of Uncle Tom

Hollywood Shuffle - NAACP & Uncle Tom

Honestly, it was something I'd never questioned.

For those of you who don't know, within the African-American community, an Uncle Tom is a race traitor: someone who would harm other Blacks to promote him or herself among Whites.  The term comes from an 1800's book by Harriet Beecher Stowe called "Uncle Tom's Cabin", set during the period of American slavery.

But, to be perfectly honest, I never actually knew what it was that Uncle Tom had done to sell out the other slaves around him.

This, of course, is why I love wikipedia.  After all, how could I have figured out everything I needed to know about Ayn Rand last summer without having to subsidize her books?

But that, my friends, is for another blog post.

Point being, I looked up "Uncle Tom's Cabin" and, frankly, I was shocked by what I read.

Here's the link to the plot synopsis - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncle_Tom%27s_Cabin#Plot

Uncle Tom was a deeply Christian slave who bonded with certain whites in such a way as to convince them of his humanity.  His Christian faith sustained him as he withstood punishment from a hateful slavemaster because he would NOT whip the other slaves.  And when asked to rat out certain slaves who'd escaped, Tom held his tongue, protecting them, even as he's being beaten to death.  He even forgives the overseers for killing him.

Moreover, at the time that it was published, 1852, "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was seen as a key abolitionist text, one of the first to highlight the daily horrors of slavery.  It was loathed among the slaveholding class and the author was allegedly referred to by Abraham Lincoln himself as "the little lady who started this great war."

Unfortunately, history was unkind to this book's legacy.  As Reconstruction dragged on, Southern whites took to making blackface stage plays based on the book outside of Stowe's creative control, most of which depicted the near-saintly Uncle Tom as the exact opposite of the character's intention.

Honestly, I don't know what else to say, other than it pays to really know your history.

Opposite Ends of the Mall

From the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on August 28, 1963, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. asked America a question.

And, as he spoke the response echoed against the vast canyon walls of human history.

Twice.

God loves poetry.

4more

Whew!

That was a close one.  At least it felt like it.

But, given the President's coattails, squashing some of the worst ideologues, partisans,  chauvinists, and intolerants in the process, I can't help but wonder if he didn't intentionally throw that first debate just to keep the dark money invested in a losing Romney campaign instead of many other winnable Senate races.

Like Andrew Sullivan says, "meep meep".

Now, let's get back to work.

For Trayvon

A while ago I had a conversation with my fiance about this screenplay I wanted to write about some super secret geopolitical thing that I thought wasn't widely known and didn't get the attention it deserved, and she just looked at me, incredulous.

"Of course no one's written about it!  Do you think you're the first person who thought of this?  How do you think they keep it secret?"

Sometimes, I can be really stupid.

But the point she made was that I'm becoming a family man now.  I had to start considering how my actions effect my family.

Family.

For most of my life before now, that equation equalled "Mom+Dad+Brother+Nana+Me", or some broader combination of aunts, uncles, cousins, and the like.  But now, the most important version of that term, the one for which I'm directly responsible for, is the one I'm building personally with my better half right now.  Children are very important to both of us.

And the idea that a grown man could look at my child, literally walking down the street minding his own business, and KILL them, and then walk away without even an arrest, let alone a trial to even determine if  a crime has been committed just terrifies and infuriates me.

I think of Emmett Till.

I think of Ennis Cosby.

I think of the legions of Black boys who have their lives stolen from them every day because of someone else's irrational fear and hatred.

It's a delicate balance, because I don't want my future children to live in fear, or to expect any less from their home, their community, or their country than any of their white classmates.  Yet I also don't want them to be blind to what I perceive to be the realities of race in America.  I'm struggling to see past the years of learned behavior to find the appropriate level of paranoia and mistrust in a world where most people are good and decent and honest but there are still people out there who will take your life just because you're Black and male.

And it's the callous disregard for that life that horrifies me even more.  Who gives a drug test to a corpse?  Who takes the word of the man with the smoking gun in his hand that the dead guy had it coming as "evidence"?


Even if Trayvon Martin struck first (which I think is a ridiculous claim), doesn't the evidence show that he, too, could have legitimately claimed self-defense under the "Stand Your Ground" law?

Discretion is the better part of valor, people.
 

I'm trying not to get off on a rant about law enforcement and Black Americans, so let me just say two things: paraphrasing Ice-T, your authority is not a license to kill.

And God is watching.

Martin Luther King, Jr., in his own words, on his day

Nothing I can write could match what King says himself.

Listen to the WHOLE speech.  His last speech, the night before he was assassinated.
Martin Luther King, Jr: "Mountaintop" speech full length from Filip Goc on Vimeo. It wasn't just about race, or class, or labor. It was about keeping the promise of America for everyone. Forever.

Go See "Red Tails", the Tuskegee Airmen movie, next Friday, 1/20

First of all, let's start with the movie itself.  Here's the trailer for "Red Tails", George Lucas' big budget action movie about the Tuskegee Airmen.



Looks pretty awesome, right?  Action, history, social drama, good clean fun.

Also looks pretty expensive, too.

And to that point: here's an interview George Lucas did with The Daily Show where he broke down in really stark terms how no one in Hollywood wanted to finance this movie because it has all Black actors in the lead roles.


So, you all have heard me railing against the evils of Tyler Perry movies for a long time.  But, as the Emperor of Star Wars points out, the studios are happy to make more Medea movies because they're dirt cheap, so they can always turn a nice little profit from the niche audience of people who like to watch 6 ft. tall Black men disgrace themselves, our mothers, and our grandmothers all in one single performance.

But the Tuskegee Airmen are real heroes: men who risked their lives to save the lives of others.  Literally.  Black men who stood up to be counted.  Americans who embodied the very best of all of us.

Real role models.

And the movie looks like it will be very, very good.

I'm tired of only seeing Black actors in movies that are either about crime or relationship drama.  We have SO many more stories to tell.

Why do you think I love "Event Horizon" so much?  :-)

I feel like I see these sorts of pleas all the time, but this one is pretty serious, because if this movie, from one of the few untouchable filmmakers in the world, bombs, it's going to be extremely hard to get some more diversity in Black cinema.

In short, get all of your friends, and all of your friends' friends, and go out on opening night next Friday, January 20th, and actually BUY A TICKET for "Red Tails".

This one is important, folks.

Things I Didn't Know About Black America: Shirley Sherrod

So, I'm not going to get into the guts of this whole Shirley Sherrod/Andrew Breitbart fiasco.

But what I will say is, I think the sister has a serious point when she said she'd like to talk to the President about what he doesn't know about the history of Southern Black America.

One of my very good friends invited me to come along with him this summer to tour civil rights era sites throughout the south.  And, in my smugness, I said "dude, I'm Black from Maryland - my family LIVED the civil rights movement.  I don't need to be a tourist."

That said, Maryland is very much the line state.  There was terrible racism and race terrorism there, of course.  But it wasn't really the epicenter of Jim Crow like, say, Alabama, Mississippi, or Georgia during the 50's & '60's.

I don't really know.  And just because I'm Black doesn't mean I know by default.

And neither does President Obama, who, as far as I can tell, has yet to visit any of those Southern states since the election.

My Jewish friends have quite skillfully laid claim to the term "never again" in the face of the Holocaust, and I have yet to meet a young Jewish person who doesn't have some vivid living memory handed down to them by parents & grandparents & great grandparents about why they need to be both eternally vigilant and eternally better than the examples of their oppressors.

How did our history get lost, Black America?  Why aren't we talking to the Shirley Sherrods and Bill Cosbys and Dick Gregorys and Harry Belefontes and Ruby Dees and, yes, Clarence Thomases and Condolezza Rices, about how we always remember, always honor, and always excel despite the horrors?

Things I Didn't Know About Black America: Clarence Thomas

Thanks to my fellow netizen Brokenbeatnik, I came across the Washington Post article about the opinion Clarence Thomas wrote supporting the Supreme Court's decision to strike down Chicago's anti-handgun law as an unreasonable restriction of the 2nd Amendment.

Now, ordinarily, I'm not big on gun rights (after all, as my brother always says, nobody in the hood manufactures Uzis), and I'm really not crazy about Clarence Thomas, but I've gotta say, he really caught my eye with this opinion.  If you look at the nearly 20 page paper he wrote, you see that his vigorous defense of 2nd amendment rights is founded in his own first hand experience, I'm sure, of growing up in the Jim Crow South.

Cue Wikipedia again.

I didn't realize that Thomas' home town was founded by freed slaves, or that Gullah (or Geechee) was the spoken language in his home.  I didn't realize the man didn't live in a house with in-door plumbing until he was 7 years old.  I didn't know that he dropped out of seminary after hearing his classmates celebrating Martin Luther King's assassination.

If I did, I shouldn't have been surprised that, in his mind, the Federally protected right to own a gun, unabridged by a local or state authority, was the only think protecting him & his family (heck, even his whole home town) from organized, often local government sanctioned, white racist terrorism from the likes of the Ku Klux Klan and God knows what else.  Justice Thomas practically echoes Rob Brown's book "Negroes With Guns", a tome of self defense that became the cornerstone of Huey Newton's thinking in founding the Black Panther Party.  I have huge problems with many of Brother Clarence's votes, and I'll disagree with him with a lot of things, but I doubt I'll ever question the sincerity of his intentions again.

It reminds me of how I used to think of Condolezza Rice:  she grew up with the same four Black little girls who were murdered in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing of 1963 that Spike Lee featured in his documentary "Four Little Girls".  I used to think, "How can she not be more super-pro-Black nationalist after having lived through the horrors of that era?"

But Thomas reminds me that, while many Black folks were radicalized by the internal terrorism of the late 50's and '60's, just as many were raised in households more aligned with Booker T. Washington's thinking than, say, my man W.E.B. DuBois.  That the best revenge was success & dignity in the face of the terror, and those children like Clarence Thomas or Condolezza Rice or Colin Powell owed it to the people who died to reach and strive as far as they could.  So many radicals who didn't have access to the opportunities they had ended up dead, incarcerated, or ostracized.

Huey Newton?  H. Rap Brown?  These are not stories with happy endings.

But are those the only choices?

One could argue that Clarence, Condolezza, & Colin and many others like them earned their success by turning their backs on the broader Black community.  Yes, they're all involved in charity and philanthropy, but when decisions were made in their midsts regarding economic policy, war policy, social policy, and the like that had a direct impact on African Americans at large, did they really do all that they could to protect their voiceless brothers and sisters?

I don't know.

Just like I don't know what sort of sacrifices they had to make in order to reach their positions.  Does their mere presence in those positions carry more weight than their actions while in those positions?

My generation came of age in the post-"Black is Beautiful" era.  We take our ethnic pride and abilities as a given.  But that has not always been the case.  Folks like Clarence and Ward Connerly and others carry the scars of de-legitimacy to this day.  And the memories of the horror probably never go away.

I find myself thinking a lot about "The Spook Who Sat By The Door" as I read about Clarence Thomas this week.

Just getting to the door has been so hard for so many.  But does simply sitting there make it easier for others to join you and/or walk through?  Or are you responsible for wedging it open, no matter the personal cost?

Things I Didn't Know About Black America: Supermax

I grew up in a house with three sets of encyclopedias, which, of course, means, today, I am a compulsive researcher.

Or, as one of my friends from the all-girl's private school around the corner from my all-boy's private school once said, "You're such a little bibliophile."

Whenever I learn about something new that I can't really talk about in some detail and great length, the first thing I do is look it up on Wikipedia.

But through an odd confluence of inputs over the last few days, I find myself knee deep in the recent history of African Americans here in these United States.  So, here's the first in a series of web research diversions into my own cultural & ethnic history...
---------
I was watching Zombieland, and was wondering what else Woody Harrelson was up to as a part of his recent career resurgence.  Cue wikipedia - turns out Woody's dad was a contract killer who died in supermax prison on conviction for taking out a Federal judge and occasionally bragged that he was one of the dudes on the grassy knoll who helped take out JFK.

Crazy, right?

Realizing that I didn't really know what constituted a supermax prison (in short, solitary confinement for everybody 23 hours out of the day and no interaction with any other prisoners), I followed the links to to ADX Florence, the only supermax federal penitentiary.  And the current inmate list reads like a who's who of enemies of the state: FBI double agent Robert Hansen; the shoe bomber; the unabomber; the 1996 Olympic park bomber; Oklahoma City accomplice Terry Nichols; the guy who masterminded the first World Trade Center bombing; H. Rap Brown.

H. Rap Brown?!?

Wasn't he supposed to be one of the heroes of the civil rights movement?  Shows how little I know, right?

Cue wikipedia again.

Turns out the brother, one of the founding fathers of the original Black Panther Party for Self Defense (yes, let's get the full name right, folks), had converted to Islam and attempted to become an arbiter of peace of sorts.... until two cops got shot up trying to serve him an arrest warrant (one died) and he fled the scene in a bullet-ridden Mercedes.

In reading this, I realized I'd confused him with Eldridge Cleaver.  Probably because they'd both written books about being Black and radical in America in the 1960's (Brown's "Die, Nigger, Die" and Cleaver's "Soul On Ice").  Honestly, I only really knew about them from Mario Van Peebles' movie "Panther".  Oddly enough, Cleaver had become a born-again Christian and a right wing Republican in his old age before he died.  Brown, for his part, had originally been involved with SNCC - the Student Non Violent Coordinating Committee - who helped organize the Freedom Rides, Freedom Summer, and the March on Washington, before interference from law enforcement and increasing threats of violence led to a schism in the group.  They had to change their name because, as one leader said at the time "I don't know how much longer we can stay nonviolent.

But, still: a supermax prison?  That guy is still considered an enemy of the state on the level of a traitorous enemy agent and Al Qaeda operatives?  Really?

More to come on these.  In the meantime, if you're not familiar with the history of SNCC, The Panthers, and the crazy political climate of the late 60's & early '70's, you may want to check some of these out:

Two Americas

Last time I checked, wasn't the City of Chicago and, for that matter, the whole State of Illinois, still part of the United States of America?

So why are all of these conservatives cheering because AMERICA, not just Chicago, but AMERICA, lost the bid for the next Olympics?

Oh, right. I forgot. It's because Obama lobbied for it.

I'm reminded of an incident way back when I was in high school. I was driving home late one night after visiting a classmate who lived in the Northeast corner of Baltimore. Since I lived on the exact opposite side of the city, I had a bit of a drive ahead of me, so I wanted to stop & get some gas. There were no brand name stations around, but I did manage to find one mom & pop-ish full-service station still open at 11PM.

So, I pull up to the pump, and the guy in the station waves to me, saying "I'll be there in a second."

So I wait. And I wait. And I wait. And another car pulls into the station. The guy comes out of the booth, pumps gas for the other car, and then goes back into the booth.

And I wait. And I wait some more. And then the guy looks out of the booth and smiles, saying "Oh, did you want some gas?"

I said "I get the picture" and left.

Do I even need to say that I'm Black and this guy was white?

What I could never fit my head around was this: I was coming to buy gas from him. I was going to literally put money in his hands.

But no. He doesn't want MY money. He doesn't want anything to do with me. He would rather hurt his own business than help me in any way.

Cutting off your nose to spite your face.

Now, am I saying that all opposition to Obama is racial? No, not really.

But what I AM saying is that a lot of opposition to Obama is just as irrational, crazy, and self-destructive as racism.

They don't want him talking to their children so he can tell them to stay in school. They don't want him lobbying for an American city to host the Olympics.

They don't want him anywhere doing anything for or with or about anyone.

It may not be race-based, but, if I can use a computer programming analogy for a moment, it sure has the same methods and interface as racism.

"....proud to be an American..."

"I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America."
- Langston Hughes
I know I've been pretty quiet since the election back in November.   A lot has
happened since then - personally, professionally, artistically, romantically.

In many ways, I feel like anything I could write now would really pale in comparison
to the reality of the moment.

But I would like to say a few things:

• I love that Michelle's mother is moving into the White House, because it is representative of the reality for many Black families here in America. My grandmother lived in my parents' house since before I was born, and there's something to be said for having another adult who is not working a full-time job there to help raise the children. And, let's be blunt, it's much more likely for Blacks to BE the nanny instead of HAVING a nanny. But, even more importantly, having a blood relative to help with your babies is probably always better. So I love that America is going to have a "First Nana".
• I went to the Martin Luther King Day parade here in Los Angeles yesterday, and I love the weird trick of fate that we get to celebrate MLK the day before we inaugurate our first Black president. There were Obama t-shirts & signs & bootleg merchandise EVERYWHERE. But what's even more cool is how crazy diverse the MLK Day Parade itself was - there was a huge Korean contingent; Brazilian carnival-style dancers & floats, even freakin' Hari Krishnas. :-) A reminder that King's dream wasn't just about Black people. It was, and continues to be, about everybody.
• Needless to say, I can understand how some on the left are highly pissed off about the whole Rick Warren thing. But, as I think those who oppose things like Prop 8 here in California are beginning to learn, this is a democracy, and the only way to win a majority for your beliefs is to change hearts and minds. And that means you have to talk to people who may believe in things that you hate, and they have to actually be in the room in order to talk to them. I stopped listening to some folks that I like because they believe something different than me, and, frankly, that's a sign of my own weakness. And ours. So, let's be real about this. Rick Warren is a far cry from Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson, and he probably represents a very large cross-section of the church-going populace of this country. Even if you're a big believer in separation of church and state, even if you're an atheist or an agnostic, you still have to share the country with the religious people. You can't get rid of them just like they can't get rid of you, no matter how much either of you would like. That, my friends, is what democracy is all about. Just like talking to Iran is not appeasement, giving an olive branch to the Christian middle is not an endorsement. Have faith that the President may just know what he's doing.
• Don't you just love that last sentence? Above all else, I love the return of a presumption of competence to the Federal government.
• The last time I was on the national mall was 1995 for the Million Man March. After watching the festivities of the day, I'm suddenly itching to go back and go on all the tours. If I may paraphrase our new First Lady, this may not be the first time I've been proud of my country, but today is definitely the day that I've felt MOST proud to call myself an American.
  

OK. Now, let's get to work.

For Guido, or requiem for a true tiger

When I was in college, the term "facebook" may as well have been more accurately translated to "sex menu".

I cannot tell you how many hours I and my fellow classmates spent looking through the official guide book published by the university, listing names, addresses, and, yes, pictures of the faces of all the members of our incoming class to determine who was hot or not and just how far away that hotness was from our respective dorm rooms. The freshmen facebook was irreparably dog-eared well before the end of orientation week every September, and I suspect that tradition still lives on today.

Of course, Facebook now has a totally different meaning, turning into an online version of the game show "where are they now?" In many ways, I think the reason Facebook has garnered so much more attention than MySpace is that it seems uniquely designed to help you rediscover those people whom you never thought you would miss until you see their name in a friend request.

Guido Sohne was one of those people.


It would be a bald-faced lie to say that Guido and I were anything more than casual acquaintances back at Princeton. And, considering how few black faces there were, especially within the confines of the Computer Science department during the early '90's, that says a lot. It wouldn't be accurate to say Guido kept to himself, because all I really know is that he didn't really hang out with me. And there's clearly an element of arrogance there on my part - after all, I was the president for Princeton's chapter of NSBE, the National Society of Black Engineers, for two years running and organized an entire little community within a community of Black & African students aimed at helping ourselves survive the Princeton E-Quad gauntlet. So I knew and studied and partied and traveled with everybody. If he wasn't where I was, he couldn't possibly be out somewhere else with a whole other set of people, right?

I think that was the weird trick about Princeton: for even a relatively small school (~4,500 undergraduates back in the day), there was enough self-segregation that you could always find ways to make it seem even smaller. As one brother once told me, "I don't even see the white people. I walk around campus, and, it's like they're blurry. Like they're not even really there."

All I really knew about Guido was that he was very cool, friendly, and way, way, way smarter about computer science than I was. He'd disappear for seemingly entire semesters, while the rumors circled around him about some amazing thing he'd done back in his home country of Ghana or some other part of the world.

So, I must admit that I was very pleasantly surprised to reconnect with him via Facebook. Just glad to see his face.

He sent me a pretty long e-mail back describing all of the amazing technological and political activist work he was involved in back in Africa, although he hadn't been back to the US since he left Princeton because, in his words, he'd decided that he was going to come back successful or not at all.

That was October 1, 2007.

And I never replied.

I guess I was just lazy. Like Louis Armstrong said, "we have all the time in the world", right?

The next time I saw Guido's name was when a mutual friend send me a Facebook message this past June asking me if I'd heard that he'd died.

Died.

Of heart failure.

Guido was 34 years old.






Here's a guy who founded companies, co-founded NGOs, advised international foundations, all in the interest of bringing the promise of technology and innovation to those in his home who were less fortunate than he was. He was the living, breathing embodiment of everything Thomas Friedman talks about in his book "The World Is Flat". Someone who had dedicated his life to nothing less than transforming Africa.



It wasn't right.

Guido's death just struck me as colossally, cosmically unfair. Like a tiny crime against humanity had been committed.

And, on top of the injustice of it all, I must admit that I also felt a tremendous sense of shame.

I mean, let's be honest: I firmly believe that what I do, namely tell stories that can both move people's hearts and, if I'm really good, shift their perspectives a little, is one of the single most powerful and important ways to effect the human condition. Everything that is begins with an idea, and it takes storytellers to help grow the new ideas that become the future, especially the one that we desire. But even if I'm the most successful filmmaker the world has ever known, my effect on the world is very subtle. It's not an exercise in direct action like what Guido did every single day in Ghana. Hell, just BEING an open source programmer and advocate in the middle of Accra is a form of direct political action. Let alone those who have been educated, or empowered, perhaps even enriched, directly through his efforts.

Guido was in the arena. And his death reminded me that I hadn't really done much to get my hands very dirty.

But we all have our specific roles to play, and the fact remains that I, personally, will never be as technically proficient or politically courageous as Guido Sohne.

I cannot be Guido Sohne.

But it occurred to me that I could certainly do my best to find the NEXT Guido Sohne.

So, after a summer of informal chats with some of my other classmates and members of the university faculty and administration, we've created the Guido Sohne Memorial Fund at Princeton University.

The idea is this: In conjunction with the Engineering School, we'll conduct a search each semester for an African college student who's studying computer science, and, when we've identified the top candidate, we will pay for him or her to spend a semester studying in Princeton. And, at the end of the term, if there are funds left over, we'll send an American Princeton student over to Africa for a summer to study as well.

In order to do that, we're all engaged in the process of raising the initial $50,000 that's necessary to establish the scholarship. Ultimately, we need to raise $250,000 to make the scholarship self-sustaining over a period of years.

Most of the time, if I ask you folks who read Macroscope to do anything, it's usually to go see a movie or vote in an election. Maybe read a specific book every now and then. I believe this is the first (and, most likely, the last time) I will ever ask you to reach into your wallets so directly.

But, if you're motivated and inspired by Guido's story the way I was, I would ask you to contribute. You don't have to be associated with Princeton in any way to make a donation. Simply mail a check made out to `Princeton University', referencing the "Guido Sohne Memorial Fund", to the following address:

Jotham Johnson '64
Director of Stewardship
Princeton University
330 Alexander Road
Princeton, New Jersey 08540

Yes, I know - checks are so 20th century. Apparently, the university still only accepts direct credit card donations for their annual giving campaign, so we're still trying to figure out a way to facilitate credit card and/or PayPal donations to Princeton that doesn't put either me or any of my classmates (i.e. people who are not official representatives of the university) in charge of anyone else's money (and we're definitely open to suggestions). And I would LOVE to find a company who could do a matching gift of some sort.... especially since Guido was actually working FOR Microsoft at the time of his death (still trying to figure out how to recruit them to get involved).

The point is, contribute. However you can. If we can help even one kid come across the Atlantic and live up to his full potential, there's no telling how many lives will be directly transformed for the better. It's opportunities like these that can literally change the world.

If you're on Facebook, click the title of this blog post to become a fan of the Guido Sohne Fellowship there. Or just click this URL:

http://www.facebook.com/inbox/?ref=mb#/pages/Guido-Sohne-Fellowship/42008299168?ref=ts

On that page, you can find links to a number of articles detailing Guido's work and life. And you should absolutely feel free to forward this e-mail and/or blog post to as many other people as you see fit.

Princeton's unofficial motto is "In The World's Service". Guido helped remind me of that. And I hope I'm not the only one.

Diary of a bunch of Mad Black Writers

According to Nikki Finke, it looks like Tyler Perry finally got the message and is going to sign onto the WGA contract.

"Peace in our time", ladies and gentlemen.

And I'll refrain from referencing Chris Rock's old joke about people who want credit for things they're supposed to do. For now.

Crabs in a Barrel

So, first, let's get to the facts:

A few days ago, Tyler Perry fired a bunch of black writers from his cable sitcom "House of Payne". In response, the Writers Guild of America just filed suit against Perry with the National Labor Relations Board, alleging unfair labor practices. Perry says the writers were fired because of the quality of their work. The writers say they were fired because they were pushing to have the show covered under a WGA contract.

When I first heard this, I did a double-take. The highest rated sit-com on basic cable is a non-union show?

But, as I researched it more, it was even worse than I thought.

"House of Payne" is a DGA signatory. Of course it is: Tyler directs most of the episodes, and he's a member of the Directors' Guild, so it would have to be.

"House of Payne" is also a SAG signatory. Of course it is: if it wasn't, he couldn't have cast actors like Allen Payne, who, like most of his castmates, are members of the Screen Actors Guild.

But, "House of Payne" is NOT a WGA signatory.

I mean, the one group that he COULD screw, he DID screw.

Now, to be totally fair, a number of the fired writers are WGAw members, so, they really had no business working on a non-union show in the first place, unless, of course, part of their agreement when they were hired was that the show would become a guild signatory. The guild has provisions to allow for that. And, if I had to guess, that is probably the essence of the case they're bringing to the NLRB.

Tyler recently signed a deal with TBS to create 100 episodes of "House of Payne" for $200 million, or $2,000,000 per episode. The WGA considers a show a "high budget minimum" if its budget exceeds $100,000 per episode for non-network primetime, in which case, the guild minimum fee for writing one such episode is ~$12,000. It also requires that, if you're on staff, meaning you're under the regular employ of the producer instead of a hired gun who's brought in on a one-off basis to write an episode, your minimum weekly salary for a basic cable show of this length is roughly $3,000.

Plus health benefits, pension, etc.

Pretty good work if you can get it. But even if you assume they make an episode a week (and they clearly work much faster, given how many they've produced in the last two years), and let's assume that the pension & health insurance costs as much as the total salary & writing fees involved for these writers (and it's considerably less), and you round up to the nearest $10,000, you're still only talking about $50,000 per episode, or 2.5% of the total budget per episode.

And it's not like House of Payne is an expensive show. It's a three camera comedy, meaning they have a series of standing sets in front of a studio audience with two stationary cameras and a third on a track, so that the actors get to perform almost like it's theater. No expensive locations. No special effects. Allen Payne is probably the highest paid actor on the show after Tyler Perry himself, and I guarantee you that brother is not making a million dollars an episode.

But let's put all of that aside for a moment.

For a guy who's built his career around promoting a certain kind of Black Christian faith and community responsibility....

I just don't understand.

Just like BET. Actually, worse than BET. At least BET is more up front about the fact that they're making money by getting over on Black people.

I was never particularly a fan of Tyler Perry's work. The minute I'm shown yet another Black man in drag for laughs, I immediately turn off. I think this trend, going all the way back to Flip Wilson, and continued through Will Smith & Martin Lawrence, has always been a double-edged diss against Black people. It perpetuates a de-feminized stereotype of Black women & mothers while simultaneously emasculating some of our more prominent Black male performers. And yet, I always had respect for him as an artist and a businessman who'd found a way to successfully navigate the entertainment industry while still owning his original content. I was really happy to see him succeed in film, especially as his films seem to reach for more authentic representations of Black relationships.

But come ON, man!!!! Pay the fucking writers! It's not like you don't have it.

Jeez.

Bogeymen

I cannot tell you how many different ways I've tried to start this post, which I think is indicative of how big a topic this is.

Today, I want to talk about fear.

But let's begin at the beginning.

I was having breakfast with a young lady last week, and the topic drifted into the Presidential election. She commented that so many men who say they couldn't or wouldn't vote for Hilary Clinton are, ultimately, afraid of having a woman as President.


Now, of course, I've made no secret of my support for Barack Obama, but, at least consciously, I would never have thought that my opposition to her may be based in some latent misogyny. Quite the contrary, actually: the foreign policy position she's presented has seemed far more belligerent and, frankly, male than most of her Democratic contenders, to the point where, in some instances, she's starting to sound like the Republicans. My opposition to her has, at least consciously, always been based in my general opposition to DLC-style politics (i.e. "We're Democrats who want to beat up the same people as the GOP, so vote for us instead of those girlie-man Progressives"). Which is why I don't like guys like Joe Lieberman (even before he showed his true colors last year), or Evan Bayh, or even, in some instances, Harold Ford.

On the other hand, the Clintonistas will say the same thing that one of my cousins up in Milwaukee said back in 2004 on why he was supporting Bush: "Sometimes, you need a bully." After all, the world is full of scary stuff and scary people. Isn't it obvious that we need someone big and bad to go beat up the scary people?

And this has been the rapp on Obama - he's not tough enough. If he thinks he can talk to the Iranians, or Al Qaeda, or the North Koreans, or the lobbyists, or the big polluters and pharmeceutical companies, he's either a sucker who's too naive to be in office or a coward who's too spineless to get into a fight.

This is the same thing John Edwards was saying before he dropped out. You've got to be ready to take these people on. Because they're coming to get you. Hell, they may already have you.

And MY GOD, if Obama is talking this Hope crap now, just wait until the Republicans get a hold of him! None of us can possibly imagine the onslaught of character assassinations that will be unleashed against Barack by the likes of Karl Rove and Rush Limbaugh and the Swift Boat Vets and all the other cogs in the Right Wing Attack Machine (tm).

And let's not even get into what radio host Stephanie Miller called "Right Wing World". If you thought WE had enemies to be afraid of, progressives, that's nothing compared to the enemies that the conservatives see.

I mean, let's take a step back for a minute. According to Dictionary.com, the definition of conservative is:
–adjective
1. disposed to preserve existing conditions, institutions, etc., or to restore traditional ones, and to limit change.
2. cautiously moderate or purposefully low: a conservative estimate.
3. traditional in style or manner; avoiding novelty or showiness: conservative suit.



And, once you get past the politically specific definitions, you get to my favorite one:
having the power or tendency to conserve; preservative.

Preserve.
Protect.
Defend.

The very definition of the word assumes a state of constant siege. Their enemies are legion.

It's not just specific terrorist groups like Al Qaeda or Hamas or Hezbollah, in their eyes. It's not just specific countries like Iran or Syria. It's not even the whole of the religion of Islam. It is a clash of whole civilizations. Our very way of life is at stake. These people don't just want to kick us out of their countries. They don't just want to control the world's oil supply. They want to enslave us. They want to steal our God. And, barring that, they want to kill as many of us as they possibly can, for no other reason than the fact that we exist.

I think 9/11 is probably the first time that the average white person in America felt like there was a man out there, somewhere, who was plotting to kill them in the most newsworthy fashion possible, simply because of their identity, as opposed to some assumed grievance.

Which is probably way far fewer Black people in America had their world turned upside down as a result of that day: we've lived under the threat of random, indiscriminate identity-based violence & bloodshed for centuries. So what of Osama Bin Laden wants to blow up my office? The LAPD may shoot me tonight before I can even pull out of the driveway, ya heard?

When I was accepted into Princeton, my older brother pulled me aside and explained to me that, when I got to campus, I was suddenly going to be a "nigger", and subject to unspeakable affronts like the kind he experienced at the University of Maryland back in the early 80's. Things like being bombarded with so-called water balloons filled with ketchup, or having to endure regular racist cat calls from trucks full of his fellow students simply walking home from a late class. And that I needed to steal myself for what was coming.

But, see, the funny thing is, by the time he pulled me aside, I'd already been going to school with the sons of rich white people for the better part of seven years, and it simply wasn't the case. The worst racial incidents that I'd experienced there both came in 6th grade - in the first, one kid told me that I was the blackest Black person he had ever seen, and, in the second, another kid called me "Buckwheat". When I confronted him about it, he tried to spin it that Buckwheat was famous (thanks to the Eddie Murphy skit) and that it was meant as a term of endearment. Whatever. It stopped. And, as far as the first incident, hey, let's be honest - I'm a deep chocolate brother and I wear my complexion with pride.

And, in the one instance in my life where a white kid did have the nerve to call me "nigger" to my face, he was inches away from having a "come to Jesus" meeting with my fist before the host at that particular party, my token white friend at the time, kicked the offending child out while his mother pleaded with my mom for forgiveness for exposing me to such riff-raff.

The point is, I'd been around white people for a while.

And I wasn't scared of them.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm some hero or that I deserve a "Profiles in Courage" award. Put me in the room with just about any kind of barking dog, and watch my inner punk flourish.

What I am saying is, fear is easy. It usually goes hand in hand with people who talk about being realistic.

But, personally, I'm tired of being afraid.

In her book, "The Game of Life and How To Play It", Florence Scovel-Shinn defines fear as having perfect faith in evil.

It's that other 'F' word that was key for me.

Faith.

And not the way Mike Huckabee means.

Like I wrote the morning after the 2004 Presidential Election in "....the sun WILL rise...", I suddenly understood that I had been a willing participant in a system that validated evil, even if it was only as the lesser of two.

And, in that moment, I decided that I would NEVER, EVER vote for someone because I was afraid of something ever again.

When I wrote "The California Democratic Party SUCKS" back during the 2006 Gubernatorial Election, I caught a lot of flak from my local progressive friends for saying that I would not vote for the Democratic candidate, Phil Angelides, even if that meant re-electing Arnold. They were all terrified of 4 more years of Herr Schwarzenegger. But I had faith that, by not choosing the lesser of two evils, I would get closer to the outcome that I wanted. In short, I put it in the hands of a higher power.

Two years later, I think most Californians will agree that, while he's been less than ideal, the Governator has been a fairly decent steward of the Golden State.

Everyone was so down after Bush was re-elected, and appropriately so. 2005 was an awful year for America. But didn't I say that that particular election was going to be the low point before a progressive surge in the American electorate? Look at the country now - Democratic primaries are seeing, in some cases, double the voter turn out than 4 years ago.... which was already a record year.

My point is, I stopped letting George Bush and Arnold Schwarzenegger steal my joy. And that was not blind faith. It was a belief backed by conviction and effort and wisdom. But it is also founded in the fundamental understanding that nothing anybody else can do to me can hurt me more than what I can do to myself.

Which is why I love this little mantra from Frank Herbert's "Dune:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

What so many people may not understand is that Obama is offering the same message and operating on the same frequency as not just RFK or MLK, but of, ultimately, Gandhi.

It's not about Peace Through Strength.

My friends, it is about Strength Through Peace.

Not world peace. Inner peace. Spiritual peace. Human peace. Peace at the center. The peace that passes all understanding.

And folks, you know that I am very much a Prodigal Son when it comes to the traditional church. But the peace that comes from knowing that you are MORE than how a poll or an election or a pundit or an attack ad defines you, let's you confront the smears from the Hannitys and O'Reilly's of the world, directly, without malice, without hatred, and without fear.

The peace that comes from knowing that the true idea at the center of America is much older and deeper and fundamental and eternal and MORE than the political, social, and economic structures that have been put in place on this particular mass of land by these particular people over the last 232 years, and it would be impossible for a group of men in a cave with some explosives or a despot with an army of any size to destroy it - THAT peace lets you confront those with foul intentions with a resolve so steely and a strength so insurmountable that they wither in your presence.

The strength for those confrontations is the same that Gandhi used to dismantle the oppressor of a nation, or that Dr. King used to gain equality for his people.

Now, those who still live in fear simply cannot believe in the validity of any other kind of power besides that which is fear-based. And that's OK.

When it gets scary for them, the rest of us will hold their hands and whisper that it will be alright.

And, honestly, as long as the likes of McCain and even Hilary are preparing to wage war from a place that is ultimately based in fear, neither of them will EVER get my vote. Even if she is the Democratic nominee.

Like I've said before - I'm MORE. And until she realizes that she is, too, she cannot possibly represent me.

And I have faith that the world will unfold to my liking as long as I am true to who I am and what I believe.

Just like the State of California did. And just like the American electorate did.

In short, I think it's time for us all to get past our fear, and have the courage to hope for the world and the life we truly desire.

In all of the areas where you feel the tension to be secure, to be protected, to be safe from the Bogeymen... in every place where you hold your fear like a warm, soothing blanket:

Fear of Republicans.
Fear of Liberals.
Fear of Homosexuals.
Fear of Homophobes.
Fear of white people.
Fear of black people.
Fear of Bush.
Fear of McCain.
Fear of Hilary.
Fear of Obama.
Fear of Bin Laden.
Fear of women.
Fear of men.
Fear of failure.
Fear of success.
Fear of Satan.
Fear of God.
Fear of life.
Fear of death.

Let.
It.
Go.

Because you're already safe.

How could you not be?

You're MORE.

YES WE CAN

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to tell you who to vote for. But don't just take my word for it.



Wouldn't it be just poetic for Obama to become the first African-American presidential nominee of a major American political party during Black History Month?