Friday, July 23, 2004

Keepin' it Gangsta

There's a funny aspect to being black that you may or may not accept as true.  This bizarre consequence of being black is that you tend to draw psychos.  People with social problems are in fact drawn to black people.

Today for example, some random white guy with a beard sits down next to me and points to the tiles on the wall in metro station and says, "Wow!  It looks like the Milky Way." Now most wise people would just respond with a nod and a grim discouraging scowl.  I, being less wise, decided to dispute the point.  "No it doesn't!" I cried, "Since when is the Milky Way orange and blue?"
And the guy said, "No it does... If you let your mind wander... As mine often does."

Anyway, when the metro came I got a seat far from him.  But I watched fascinated as he approached another black man and his wife.  "Is that a digital camera?" he asked, "Those are my favourite!!"  And as that black couple became annoyed he found yet another pair of black people, this time a frightenned mother and daughter and began to converse with them.  And yes, even another black guy got on the metro was accosted by this bizarre and probably drunken gentleman.  Staggering over to another seat, I noticed the man sat down, looked at a white man as if considering to speak to him, and then declined the opportunity.  It's as if he wasn't good enough to talk to other white people.  But he was good enough to talk to any random black person he came across.

Another time I was walking down the street with a friend of mine from the university.  We're both black and the woman who approached us decided to work this fact into her begging pitch.  She adressed us, "Woah!  Eddie Murphy... ummm... (struggling to think of another black celebrity) Bill Cosby!!!"  Seeing my friend's displeasure at being called Bill Cosby, she decided to try again..."I mean... Denzel (super pleased with herself)!!!!"

At this point I'm already displeased at being the Eddie Murphy to my friend's Denzel.  Then she goes into praising black people.  "No I love Black people.  You guys are... survivors!!  Like me!!!"  Well, hooray!  Another huge leap for the black race.  We are now up to the level of this vagrant woman. 

So, what messed up stereotype do people have in mind nowadays?  Are black people more accepting and tolerant because we've been through so much?  I think I prefer the image of being potentially violent with criminal tendencies and an affinity for stealing.  At least I wouldn't get harassed by the dregs of society.  Yes... They're dregs!    I mean, hasn't the black race been through enough without having to fraternize with idiots?

And it's not just beggars.  I work at a library.  Imagine my horror at being approached by an old Vietnamese man who is pleased with himself because he listens to hip hop.  "I like hip hop!"  I mean, that's all well and good but...  No...  Or some little kid who comes up to me and says, "What's up dawg?"  I scowled at him angrily.  There's no dawg... No.. No dawg kid!  No hip hop!  I guess I was in a bad mood... It was just a little kid he didn't know any better. 

As the years have passed and we shed our agressive and dangerous image, people regard us with a kind of gawky, patronizing fascination.  They slap together an image in their mind from various things they've seen on TV and with an added a dash of Bill Cosby, mixed vigorously with Will Smith, next thing you know, any black guy not wearing baggy clothes is friendly and approachable.

I want to go back to the old school stereotypes.  You approach a black guy, yo' a$$ is gettin' stabbed or shot!  I would have liked to have known what it's like to walk into a room and have everyone hide their valuables, avoid eye-contact and run in terror!  I'm an evil man... I want to be feared!  Damn my boyish good looks and approachable demeanor!  FEAR ME!!!

Honestly though, I don't mind someone coming up and talking to me about hip hop or other "black" things.  But there should be some reciprocity in the whole thing.  I mean, anytime a black person shows interest in anything besides hip hop and... I don't know...drugs, there's always some fool nearby waiting to call you white. 

Me: "Mmm.... I truly did enjoy going to see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway!"
Some fool: "You so white, guy!  You so white you make Peter Jennings look like DMX."
Me: "Oh... I mean...  Ummm... I heart... hip hop music... And... errrr.... Substance abuse..."
Some fool: "You're the man now, dawg!!!"

Me: "I need to study tonight!!"
Some fool: "OOOh...  You so white, you're like Betty White's white brazier!!  With white frills and white lace... and big white bows!!!  You're white!!"
Me: "Hey.. I'm not Betty White's bra... :-( Ummm... What I meant to say was, I need to take a relaxed attitude toward work and...  wear baggy clothes..."
Some fool: "Hoorray!  I love predictable, easy going negroes!  They make my lack of ambition more acceptable and my inadequacies, less obvious.  Let's light up a big fatty to that, my nizzy."
Me: "Well, I don't smoke!"
Some fool: "You don't?  What kind of black guy are you?"

Why can't I have other interests without being blasted for it?  This sounds racist...  Maybe I should take it "back to the hood", as they say.  Bust into a supermarket with my "gat" held high, hand on my nuts, wearing a visor upside down AND backward,  "Aiight, Everybody get on the f**kin' floor, this is a stickup!!!" Then write a rap song about it.  Now that's a stereotype with some cojones!!  A few random instances of that, and I'm sure no one will come up to me with some meaningless BS like, "Hey, guy! 50 cent!  Ummm... weed!  Fubu guy... fubu..."

Monday, July 12, 2004

Dejunked! (anti-flossin')

I don't know what it was about today... But I seemed to be especially repugnant today. As if the whole world loathed me. I could see it in there eyes. I can see it in YOUR eyes... What was it about me today that reviled most people I came across? You think I'm being paranoid? Consider this!

I was walking down St. Catherine's street, I was really tired. You know when you don't feel great, and you just pray you don't have to talk to someone on the way home. This was one of those times.

So, I run into my cousin's boyfriend. It could have been worse. He's one of the coolest people you'll ever meet. He's super friendly and he's talking to two cute girls. But I was really, tired though. Headache, backache Bleh... I was not feeling well. Like Superman wearing a Green Kryptonite Bling. And that's when it came. My cousin's bf raises his hand... It was time for the Blaxploitation handshake.

Now I was in no position to execute the complex hand gestures necessary to effect such a handshake. Even when I am alert, I have trouble predicting the elaborate combinations of the handshake. Maybe I lack the coordination, maybe I lack the quick wits... But here it came. Everything was going in slow motion... I could here the 50 cent music in the background.

The hands come together with a manly clap! Good! Drag the hands away so the fingers lock! Success! Rip the fingers apart... Well, that wasn't so bad... But wait??? More of this handshake? Props?? Bumps??? Hand Slaps???? What the...? Stop the madness! Dear God end this handshake! It sounded like an old martial arts flick, with cheesy punching noises. The sun sank beyond the horizon. Epic Gregorian chanting could be heard. Knuckle lock, fist twist, the white crane landing on placid lake... It fell apart when his fist came over mine, and I just grazed it... And it still wasn't over. He came again from underneath and I missed entirely. That my friends, was one failed, black man's greeting.

And with that came a look of embarassment on his face, and disgust on the faces of the two girls. Wow... If there was a scale of blackness ranging from the Olson Twins to Malcolm X, I was measuring off the scale... Hilary Duff perhaps... Or... Paris Hilton/Jessica Simpson hybrid creature.... Wearing "My Stuff!" Peter Jennings is also white. As is Angela Landsbury.

...

Anyway, moving on, I found out these guys were all old friends and had barely recognized each other walking down the street. I grogilly slurred, "Yeah... It's hard when you're ... walking down the street... You sometimes... don't recognize each other..." :-|

Now the taller girl is looking at me like, "Wow... This guy truly does suck." And the smaller girl is thinking, "I want to squash this boy like an insect... I loathe him." They keep talking and again I interject at some point... Making some pathetic comment about sleep. I can't even remember. "Me... I like sleep." Bad...

Another surge of hatred pulses from their eyes, "If you speak again, I will mace you, taser you and then kick you in the nuts. And if you don't die, I'll stab you!"

Anyway, eventually, one of the girls looks right through me and says, "Hi Mat!" and with that they began to leave. This Mat guy was their out and they thanked God he had walked by when he did. "Nice to meet you," I whimpered as they left. They didn't even look back. Thank god, because I think the smaller one wanted to spit on me, just to unleash some small fraction of her seething contempt for me. I imagine that hate saturated saliva would have burned quite a bit.

My cousin's boyfriend raised his hands for more hand slapping hi jinx. Some fingerlocking routine, but this time everything was hapenning above the shoulders. I didn't know how to end it. Was the finale of this some kind of pointing?

I tried to point... But my finger wasn't really straight... It was curled... powerless... flacid... I let my hand drop and walked away in disgrace.

Monday, July 05, 2004

Mediocre Bedlam

I was standing at the autoparc waiting for the bus when I heard a bunch of car horns honking. Everyone turned around. Two guys pointed fingers, like when people point out Superman in the movies. "Look! It's the Greeks!" they declared.

As you know, the Greeks are the soccer champs which means that they MUST drive around in cars with Greek flags sticking out. I say must, because many of them seem bored with the whole thing. As if it's their duty to go careening through Montreal, more than their pleasure. I mean, there weren't even any good riots! What kind of faux soccer hooligans are they? For God sakes, break something! You won at soccer!!!

I can just imagine the lead up to one of these drive by screamings. The soccer game ends and some Greek guy has to call up his friend.

John Stamos: Hello? Can I speak to Yanni?
Yanni: Hi John, it's me... How are you?
John: Did you see the game? We won...
Yanni: Oh...
John: You know what this means right?
Yanni: Yeah... I'll be right over.

Then Yanni would calmly go to John Stamos's house.

John: Let's see... Greek Flags? Check! Blue and White body paint? Check! Dishes for smashing? Check! Crowbar...
Yanni: Crowbar?
John: you know... In case there's a riot... We could smash stuff.
Yanni: There's no time for that!
John: There's time!
Yanni: No! No smashing!
John: Maybe you're right.
Yanni: Fine, fine... get the crowbar.

Then they would calmly walk out of the house, their light footfalls, barely making a noise. They'd wave to their neighbour, "Hi Mr. Appleby! Your garden looks lovely today!"
And mr. Appleby would reply, "Why thank you gentlemen! And a good day to you both."
Then Yanni would nod politely.

But the moment they get in the car, they let out a howl of delight and peel out of the driveway yelling and hollering, with an insane look in their eyes. "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! SUCK IT!!!!! YOU ARE ALL MY BITCHES!!!!!!!"

That's what I love about soccer. The hooliganism. I mean, John Stamos didn't do anything to win at soccer, why should he be so elated that they won? But he's on cloud nine for the next few days, and it's all thanks to soccer! Other sports can't do that. If the Japanese win the Benson and Hedges fireworks competition, you won't see a convoy of cars with Japanese flags sticking out of them, with some Japanese guy sticking out of the sun roof screaming, "Suck my nuts!!! WE WON!!!!"

Someone told me today that when you go into England during soccer tournaments, they ask if you're a soccer hooligan. I don't know if it's true or not. It doesn't seem like a reasonable question. Who would say yes?

Are you a terrorist?
yes
no

Do you have a bomb?
yes
no

Are you a soccer hooligan?
yes
no
OY!!!

If you checked off 'yes', or 'oy' for any of the questions, please go home.

Well, maybe we'll get some good riots during the olympics. Who knows what nationalites will tear through montreal, looting, smashing and pillaging like enraged Vikings? If you've ever seen the carnage left in the wake of a good riot, you've gotten that warm feeling in the pit of your belly. When you looked at shattered glass and demolished cars and other various types of flaming wreckage you know, "Awww... Someone had a good time here. This... is good!"

Long live sports related carnage!! And congrats to Greeks everywhere, from John Stamos to Mr. Snuffleuppagus!!

Sunday, July 04, 2004

Good effing movie...

Once upon an msn convo....

Andre says:
I just got the movie listings for the fantasia film festival

Andre says:
sooo many cheesy movies

MastaC$G says:
Cool.

Andre says:
but there a bunch of cool martial arts ones, and two cool werewolf movies

MastaC$G says:
Werewolf ninjas?

MastaC$G says:
Cyborg Werewolf ninjas??

Andre says:
zombie werewolves

Andre says:
training to be ninjas

Andre says:
while working at second cup

MastaC$G says:
LOL!!!

MastaC$G says:
"It's hard to get the woman you love, when you're a zombie werewolf, working at second cup..."

MastaC$G says:
"This summer..... Drama has a new name..."

MastaC$G says:
"Zulgraff - The zombie, werewolf ninja."

Andre says:
"I like it"-barney gumble