Feminist Freestyles: Jezebel Minded (Lights Please Remix)

(click for audio)

lights please
lights please
lights please...

read about this nice girl, her name is jezebelly
but down to pick a fight, if you hot and on the telly
heard they daily views lookin' something like a milli
jon's daily crew wasn't ready for they jelly

sometimes i'm jezebel minded
but don't get blinded
looking for a style like tan you won't find it
so many rhymes and subliminal signs if
you read between the lines of this criminal mind bit

you're about to be reminded,
a blast from the past
of wipe my ass, and then your mind schtick
it's peter tan leave these tinkerbells blinded
by they own behind...

Race Bait: Beyonce Haters Blinded By The Light

So the latest race-bait garnering some media buzz is the purported Whitewashing of Beyonce Knowles. Various blogs and others are taking L'Oréal to task. Gawker after reviewing the arguments decided to put some compare-and-contrast pictures up. And, y'know, she definitely looks lighter. Maybe even whiter.

Jezebel is doing a good job of pursuing the whole skin-lightening-as-gross-epidemic angle, with lots of informative and scary links on bleaching of the skin and there being a market for these products. But I think focusing on the skin-caucasianizing of Miss Knowles is sort of missing the point.

Many people in the comments and elsewhere have referenced Michael Jackson in relation to this "scandal." I think one question with regards to MJ serves as a great reminder of why the bleached skin is not the issue: Does anyone think Michael Jackson is attractive?

No one of sound mind and body sees obviously bleached skin as "hot". Maybe there are a small percentage of folks who are f'd up in the head enough to think slathering your face/body with dangerous chemicals is worth it to get just a little more pale gray, but I think it's a stretch to make this any sort of society-wide problem. This doesn't mean we're not still contending with issues stemming from centuries of reinforcing the White Beauty Standard, it just means that we've evolved past "make-it-white, make-it-right" thinking en masse. Like sticking a banana in a black guy's hand and saying that makes him a gorilla, it's a little too simpleminded to actually reinforce the white-superior/black-inferior complex in 2008. These are not ideas that will gain traction en masse no matter how many shades Beyonce lightens up, or chimp noises LeBron makes.

Point being: if you're going to get hrrumphy about the Whitewashing of Beyonce as it pertains to reinforcing improper beauty standards, well that slave ship sailed long time ago. I'd actually contend that the hair is the real issue here. Straight, sleek, satin-smooth, that ain't no black person's hair! And no one's batting an eye at the actual point of the product being to get the kinky blackness out of your hair, soooooo ....

But do we really think L'Oréal would have the brainstorm that Beyonce would be more attractive if she were white? Photoshop mistakes happen, in this case it's the equivalent of airbrushing out a bellybutton or whathaveyou; a definite testament to the artificial beauty complex, but not with any racist intent.

And if you want to combat the White Beauty Standard, let's get Beyonce in an ad campaign rocking an afro. Maybe a little Náps by L'Oréal?

Everybody Staring At Beyonce's Skin [Gawker]
Photoshop of Horrors [Jezebel]

White Capsule: Dude Love Letters

So I read this recent Crap Email From A Dude on jezebel, and then I read some more, and I wonder about them. Aside from being impressive windows into the bowels -- to borrow a word from one of these love letters -- of the male soul, and cringe-worth moments of insanity, I'm thinking these letters also cut right to the heart of ethnic-as-cultural differences. I mean read this one, here's some excerpts:

What I was trying to convey — obviously very inartfully — was the depth of my hurt at your decision to marry Jonathan [ed: this marriage was apparently 5 years ago]. I have tried almost every way I know besides doing sign language while standing on my head yodeling the national anthem to explain to you why the entire situation is so painful for me and why I take it so personally. It seems manifestly obvious and glaringly self-evident to me why being rejected for another man is hurtful and why it would cause tension in our relationship. But there still seems to be some confusion here, so in the interest of disambiguation I will do my best to explain further.

Let me stipulate first, just for the record, what you have already alluded to: My ignorance of the details of your relationship with Jonathan is pretty much comprehensive. As you suggest, this is by design. For reasons that I think should be (but apparently aren't) obvious, your marriage is a source of constant hurt for me. And because my personal predilections do not tend toward the masochistic, I prefer to spend as little time thinking about it as possible. I would rather not dwell on the particulars of a relationship that feels to me like a personal affront, a slap in the face and a complete negation and mockery of my feelings. So yes, I will readily plead guilty to ignorance.

I know that despite that tough veneer, you are an exceedingly sensitive soul. Surely somewhere in your heart of hearts, my profession of love means *something* to you or touches you in some way. But that apparently didn't register at all when you made your decision. Seems to me like a pretty big thing not to take into account when considering something so major and life-altering.

Yeah. So, um ... white guy right? I wonder if that's false/faulty logic and we're being racist, or if with matters of the heart you truly bleed and show a little more of your DNA. We know there's some Myspace Missives that are definitely a "black guy". Or at least, black-guy-as-white-girl.

Anylove, this is going in the White Capsule. It has a certain cultural code methinks worth saving...


Crap Email: White Man Overboard [Jezebel]

I Want Richard Cheese To Rape Me

The best thing to come out of my New Years Eve experience was getting put on to Richard Cheese by Dodai (annoying name drop but Jezebel's hot right now, so whatevs). I just dloaded pretty much all of his songs, I can't get enough, but I think this cover of Nirvana's "Rape Me" is my favorite. The sync's not perfect on this but it's the best I could find.

Everybody! Rape Me! Put your hands together! Rape me again! R. A. P. ME. Rape rape rape, rape rape rape rape rape, rape rape rape me!



Here's Nirvana doing the real song. Soooo serious. Whatever:

How To Blog: Slavery Amusement Park

Wanna blog like a pro? Let TAN show you how!

Step #1: Find an interesting piece of news; for example this article on an apparent Slavery Amusement Park.

Step #2: Find an angle/spin that connects the news with your particular niche/audience (don't forget to sprinkle in the smart/funny!):

Gawker/Vulture/Wired set: Rabid fans of The Wire looking to up the ante on Understanding Black People, and in need of more than a weekly fix of the drug known only as "Black Meth [odology?]" (also available in: Hip Hop, Def Comedy Jam, Obama???) might want to invest in this Haitian theme park that will allow tourists to "play the part of a slave for 12 hours" ....

Jezebel/Glamour/Bust: No mention of the Rape Romper Room in the plans for this Haitian-based American-owned Slavery Theme Park; gawd, looks like we can't get an authentic female perspective even when we re-enact historical tragedy/genocide ... whatever, it's all men's fault anyway!

Perez/TMZ/Star: OMG OMG! We've found the new must-do activity for Shitney Spears/Lindsey Hohan/Paris Hilton (PH is ok in my book), and they're totesies gonna LUV IT. Slavery Re-enactment! For a day! In Haiti!! It's like going to jail, but hardcorer .... we give this idea 4 Unwanted Spears Babies out of 5

Step #3: Link your sources.

'Slave for a day' event [metro.co.uk]

(if you found the news on competitor blogs, make their link smaller)
via: Stereohyped and Racialicious

Watch What You Put In Your Mouth Ladies

There's probably something to be said here about various forms of meat and misogyny, and how it's all bad for women. But whatever ...

What doesn't work here is the teeth situation. The slightly open lips are supposed to be sexy, but teeth scraping has to be top 3 guys-worst-nightmare torture tactics, so I don't know... less toothy please.

Also, I'm surely among the biggest suckers for caucasian female imagery -- I'd eat okra-flavored flan if a cute light-skin tells me it's hot and delicious (actually that's not true, but I will spray some Axe into the air and pause just to see if something really happens) -- but for some reason I don't think this girl is going to be hot.

I'm curious what the ladies think. Jezebel found a generational gap (amongst the editors) in their responses ...


via Jezebel

TAN Iz For The Kidz: Baby Jamz™ Prototypes

So have you heard about Baby Jamz™? It's the latest initiative from the House of Knowles and it's marketed as the "the first ever hip-hop/rhythm inspired preschool toy line promoting creativity, learning and movement through music..." It was supposed to hit Wal-Mart stores a couple days ago according to this press release.

Mathew Knowles, president and CEO of Music World Entertainment says, "My grandson Juelz was the inspiration for this idea and I am especially excited that most of the Nursery Rhymes are sung by my daughter, Solange Knowles."

Now I don't have a daughter or a grandson. And I don't know Mathew personally, so I can't tell you why he spells his name with only one T. But I can tell you that this grandson story is a stretch of the imagination/advertising budget. And I can tell you that because I was the artist who actually helped develop the prototypes for the Baby Jamz toy line.

That's right. TAN. The man who brought you Snotsicles™, legislation on Mandingo Parties, and a heartwrenching conversation with Biz Markie (another take on "creativity, learning, and movement through music") was also ready to serenade your kidz.

I had actually forgotten about this — I was told Solange had stolen my Wal-Mart deal sometime early this year and, you know, who wants to dwell on that — but was reminded when I saw this Babylicious post on Jezebel. So I left my comments, cried, and then rapped myself a lullaby to go to sleep.

Anyjamz, I figured I might as well post some of my samples because, I don't know, because I'm an idiot and have no shame I guess.

I had to make about 15 songs. Half were original. Half were nursery rhymes to hip hop beats.

Here was one they liked called "One Minute." Pre-TAN heads may recognize the formula:


MP3 File

Now when they did have critiques, it was usually because I was too "dark and edgy." Or the material allowed too much room for misinterpretation. That was the case with "Touch Your Body" which got nixed early in the process:


MP3 File

Come on. That can bump in the clubs right now yo!

And yes, I actually took time to conceive of the "rub your belly, now down to your toes" dance. You should try it. It's quite fun. And liberating!

Moving on ... since my voice is somewhat deep and potentially scary for toddlers (and women!), I recruited a young female rapper who was doing work in the studio. Her name is P-Star (what you know about my MTV recruits son! Forget Hov or Kanye! P-Star!). She did a Humpty Dumpty duet with me:


MP3 File

Holla!

So there you go folks. That's that PROFESSIONAL blue collar hip hop right there. I don't want to know about no rimz. Or beautiful buxom womenz (actually I can hear a little bit about them). I want to know if you can tailor your ish for midwestern toddlerz and get that Wal-mart paper? Like TAN Solange and Mathew.

Baby Jamz

Paris, Redbook, Stop Signs Etc.

Did you know that Paris Hilton always makes the same face when taking pictures?

Now you do.

Combine that with Jezebel's outing of Redbook, and I don't know ... is there a connection between those two things? I guess maybe the walls of our reality are crashing down around us, and soon we'll have nowhere to turn?

How About You Two Ladies Come Home With Me and Slap The Sh*t/Estrogen Out Of Each Other?

Does that sound nice? Yes? Good. Cause I don't want sex. I only want to watch you do this:
via Jezebel

Of course, like jazz, hip hop and Jessica Biel's ass, girl-on-girl bitchslap orgies are just another thing started by black people only to cross-over and be co-opted by the man:



This next one should be watched on youtube for the comment that offers this slap analysis:

"It wasn't fair b/c harlem kept turning her head as the slap came towards her while jersey kept her head straight..but jersey's slap got weaker as the rounds went on while h's slaps were consistant. I can't believe i'm commenting on this stupid crap LoL"

Yes, me neither. But let's check the video tape:



Maybe I need someone to slap some sense into me, but this is hot! Forget Claire Huxtable, I need me a Smackfest Champion type of girl. Holla!

On Thursdays We Grab Titties

So girly-blog Jezebel has this post announcing that holla season is back (ladies of the 'Bel: do check out my boy VK, he's the proprietor of a popular DC blog that has much entertaining prose on "the dark art of the holla." Fellas should check him out also (nullus).).

The source material comes from Kimberly Klinger, racist, who has been keeping some sort of cat-call spreadsheet in the interest of launching a two-part attack on the neighborhood heterosexual immigrants who harass her with come-ons once or twice a week. First Kimberly confesses she's a racist (agh, aren't we all sista-girl?), and explains why sexism trumps racism in her Court of Minority Offenses. Her dilemma: Kimberly went to college, so she knows she shouldn't hate brown (excluding the hunky UPS guy of course), but what's a pretty white girl to do in the face of such aggressive misogyny? Just lay out her vagine in a chalupa or bucket of fried chicken? In part two of Kimberly's Mein Kampf she lays down the gauntlet and shares her Top 15 Hollas, so that we can get a little glimpse into her personal Holla-Hell (hella?).

Now before we commence with the tarring and feathering, I should say I agree with Klinger about sexism trumping racism, or as I like to say at cocktail parties: "the penis is mightier than the skin." Sex, and the reproductive drive, is a stronger impulse than racism. Just ask any lion on the street, he'll tell you.

But Klinger's fretting over her racism comes off as disingenuous. For example, look at some of these excerpts from her Holla Diaries:

"A short, 30-something man walks toward me, moves closer, and blatantly looks me up and down. He sucks his breath through his teeth and utters “sexy.” Really? I kind of smell

Walking in rain on street, jeans, coat, hat, etc. Some guy sticks his face almost totally under my umbrella to say, “Hello, sweetie.” Gross. It’s 9 a.m.!

Dec. 30, 2006
Late night, walking from car to apartment: From across street, from a guy getting out of his car, hear grunts, kissy noise, and the popular low-pitched “beauuuutiful.” I have on jeans, sneaks, puffy winter coat. Puffy winter coat.

Jan. 2, 2007
Walking from bus to apartment: Jackass standing at parking meters, calls out, “Hey sweetie,” as I walk by.

(these two I included the dates on to point out: it's holiday season, lighten up mami!)

Also, is about my dad’s age. Gross."

Don't these sound weird? I think it's because she chooses to provide these odd details about her holla worthiness (i.e. "I look a total wreck"). But to notice when she's sweaty, or wearing a puffy coat, or thinking about her father totally misses the point. It's like she's being sexist about the sexism. If she were dolled up in a dress, would she then smile and say, "that's right, I'm working it tonight!" No one cares what her outfit is. Everyone gets holla'd at, and she knows this, but apparently her diary doesn't. Meanwhile all the approachers are generic "guys" (but we know what kind of guys they are *wink, wink, hiss, hiss*).

Then she drops this one:

"The armchair sociologist in me knows it's all about power"

Uh, wrong. Your armchair sociologist needs to get off the couch and go talk to some of them thar ethnics. If anything, those who would cat-call on the street lack power. These aren't f'ing gorillas on the discovery channel sparring for a mate. More often than not, these are guys hanging out cause they got nothing better to do. This is a citified version of fishing. Just casting out the net and seeing what gets stuck. Maybe have some beers while you do it. You don't need a sociology degree to know this (congrats on that, btw!). Just pop your head out of your ass for ten seconds. They're just saying hello (and also letting you know that if you wanted to have sex or something they wouldn't necessarily disapprove).

Well, I guess I would if I weren't feeling annoyed, threatened, and scared. The tone of most harassment is very hostile. Sometimes it escalates to full-on yelling. I've been grabbed and groped.

I'd like to see Kimberly tell me this part face-to-face, so I could see her avert her eyes and look down to the left (is it down-left or down-right? not sure if she's lying or recalling some memory of the ocean). Anyrape, I find this hard to swallow from a girl who's been tracking all her cat-calls for six months. So are the rapes noted in the holladex also? I mean, I'm sorry, but I just don't believe it. You can't casually throw in "grabbing and groping" like we (society) just find that acceptable these days. From minorities no less. When the Puerto Ricans have their National Grope Day Parade in NYC, guess what? There are arrests made. In record numbers. I've never heard a girl say, "oh, watch out for 125th street today, apparently on Thursdays they be grabbin' titties." Come on, that's assault. People don't do that. Even the negroes and papi-chulos. The average minority on the street is not trying to see no policeman. Period. They may walk within an inch of your body, but they are conscious of that inch. That's part of the artistry.

Meanwhile I bet KK (leave off the last K for "Krazee!") is all smiles and giggles at the office when the button-down frat-boys compliment her "skirt and boots."

The only thing I can come up with is to make people aware of it. Many times, when I tell a male friend what's up, he looks at me in amazement, and says, "I had no idea it was that bad." Well, guess what, dude? It is.

Yeah, and guess what, girl? You're a racist bitch cutie-pie.

Don't keep a diary of your racism and bother your male (white?) friends with it. Just rent West Side Story and get over yourself.

(oh, and also pick-up last month's Penthouse)

holla!


Diary of a Cat-Call Hater [ Washington City Paper]
Holler of Fame [Jezebel]