Saturday, August 10, 2013

Do Better: Ochocinco's Lacking Courtroom Manor

Today's study in misunderstanding the situation you're involved in is Chad Ochocinco (formerly Chad Johnson's) recent court date for domestic violence charges. Chad, the biggest self-promotion whore in recent NFL history, had a short-lived whirlwind marriage to reality Evelyn Lozada, who's hot-headed, unstable, and violent herself. What's the worse that could happen, right? Well, the marriage fell apart when Chad allegedly head-butted her during an impassioned argument. Chad's lawyer had worked out a plea deal for probation without jail time; the court appearance was a formality. The deal is finished, what's the worse that can happen? Well, Chad shows up to court in a short sleeved shirt and jeans. And at the end of the hearing, the judge, clearly resentful of Chad and the entire situation, asks Chad if he's satisfied with the deal his lawyer negotiated. Rather than a simple "yes, ma'am", Chad answers with something playful and slaps his lawyer on the ass, prompting the entire courtroom crowd to laugh. This upsets the judge to the point that she rescinds the plea dealing sentencing Chad to a month in prison. Let's break this down, the judge clearly abused her power by reneging on the plea deal (Chad only ended up serving one week), but that's not the story, Chad is. Regardless of whether the judge was an impulsive bitch for her actions, there are things you can't do which Chad did. First of all, you're in court. Wear a fucking suit; you've played over a decade of pro ball, you can afford one. Secondly and most importantly, when dealing with judges, police, or anyone else representing law enforcement or penal systems, take the situation seriously. You don't have to do something wrong/illegal to get shot or killed if you rub such officials the wrong way; ask the countless people who've been wrongfully incarcerated, wrongfully convicted, beaten, shot, or worse over a cop's or judge's bullshit. No matter how playful your personality, this is the time to be serious if there was ever one. Furthermore, if you're a young Black men with a less than glossy reputation who's in a white female judge's courtroom for domestic violence, don't expect her to have any extra tolerance for any bullshit. I'm not trying to get butt-fucked in a jail cell somewhere because even though the charges shouldn't have stuck, I pissed off the wrong officer or judge somewhere along the line. I like my sphincter intact and unexplored. Mr. Ocho-Johnson, Do Better. you may still have a job with your hometown Dolphins if you had.

Stop Me When I Start Lying: Riley and Miley: He Says Nigger While She Can't Stop Twerkin'


That's right motherfucker, I'm talking about Riley (Cooper) and Miley (Cyrus) in the same article. In the past decades, hip-hop culture and pop culture have converged. Many white people who grew up in all white environments - these two included - had a choice whether to embrace, ignore, respectfully abstain, or resent the overwhelming subculture the Black community created. These two are case studies in different options. For those who don't know, Riley Cooper (from Oklahoma City, OK and then Clearwater, FL) is a backup wide receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles. At a country music concert at the stadium Cooper was denied backstage access by a Black security guard and was caught on camera saying "I'll fight every nigger in here." Let's break this down: 1) Why the fuck should Riley Cooper have backstage access without proper passes? He's an Eagle, but he ain't no damn star; this wasn't Michael Vick. The guard probably had no fucking idea who he was or why he thought he was so important. He might as well have let my ass back stage, I'm as readily recognizable as Riley Cooper. The guard was just doing his job. 2) I guess since it was a country concert (one of few nigger-free functions in Philly), Riley thought he could let his hair down and unleash the inner racist he's forced to hold inside at work with no repercussions...in 2013? Yo dumb ass, cameras are everywhere, even though your a backup. 3) Before anyone starts the "he can say it since you Black say it" conversation, let me explain my take on that. If he was caught reciting rap lyrics, using it as a term of endearment among his Black friends, or anything else that I could call "a product of coming up in Black culture", it wouldn't necessarily be acceptable but it would be somewhat understandable. But he used it in the pissed slave master sense; like "how dare you nigger disobey me and stop me from doing what I want to? I'll whip you and every other nigger in here." He's gonna have a hard time trying to get anyone to believe that he's never used that word before and he has no hard feelings towards Black people. My conclusion: He was never fully comfortable with/accepting of Black people or the subculture we spawned. He's learned to co-exist with Black people but always had some feelings of disdain/resentment towards them inside which he let slip out. He's supremely fucked up. He's an expendable player in a 70% Black sport in one of the biggest, Blackest cities in America for a team that needs success without distractions. You've lost the trust of your teammates (and many of the notoriously harsh Philly fans) and now depend on their professionalism to co-exist and perform well with you. The fact that his coach, his owner, and even the league's commissioner didn't take a stand on the issue at all is bullshit in its own right, but that's a story for another day. He better keep his head down and ball out or he might be the most athletic worker in a Sam's Club stock room this time next year.
On the other hand, you have Hannah Montana herself. Cyrus, who grew up on a 500 acre farm in Tennessee before making it to Hollywood as a Disney child star, has hit the age where she's rebelliously finding her identity as a grown up rock star. Like many child stars, she has found the "bad boy/girl" temptation-filled lifestyle appealing now than the heavy parent-protected life of innocence and wholesomeness that they came up in. What's interesting is some of the hobbies and friends she's picked up along the way. In addition to the rock star hair, the provocative clothes, and the overall newfound edginess, she has become infatuated with a product of early-2000's club style hip-hop: Twerking. That's right, the dance style born in Africa, refined by the modern stripper/video chick, and popularized by a hip-hop culture that is enamored with watching and feeling (with their pelvic region) the different ways women can shake the meat on the lower half of their bodies. She was probably behind stage on the set of "Hannah Montana" watching Ying Yang Twins and Two Short videos when her parents weren't looking. Now that her country singer dad isn't lording over her and her weight has made it into the triple digits (hopefully) she thinks she has enough meat to take part in it herself. For the record, I've seen the videos, she may be American's most popular twerker right now, but she lacks the meat in her ass/thigh/hamstring area to be an All-Star at the craft; she gets points for her effort though. Hell, she got sarcastically shouted out by Jay-Z about and that fucker's in his 40s. She's popped up on stage at a Juicy J concert to show off her new 'skill' and probably searches for rappers to party with instead of her former Disney contemporaries and some less twerk-friendly music. My conclusion: Like much of young white America, she wants to be not only Black, but borderline hood because she thinks its cool. But she's overdoing it, you can't go from Taylor Swift to Rihanna overnight. Although she clearly accepts and enjoys hip hop culture, but as Jay-Z has said a good little Disney white girl turned bad (and/or ratchet) in the spotlight is among America's worst nightmares. Although it's not what I want when I talk about a truly diverse and accepting country, Miley entertains me. Hell, I can't imagine how middle America is gonna panic when some Black entertainer or athlete starts stretching her pussy out. Call me vile for the last sentence if you want, but Stop Me When I Start Lying...