Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Black Forgiveness is Always at Work

Once again, a black person exercised forgiveness. Once again, a black person said, "I am not going to do what they did to me, my family, and my people.

That "they" is white people.

Shirley Sherrod did the right thing in spite of racism’s brutality. A brutality so many black Americans have faced and continue to face daily. And, as we are trained to do by black pastor, we have forgiven our white racist oppressor.

Slaves were known to pray for slave master in the face of African cultural destruction. I don’t find that to be surprising at all considering the nature of most African people - humble, forgiving, loving, caring, and loyal.

Black people have been committed counterparts to making the America Experiment work. We have worked tirelessly to be acknowledged as human. Our ancestors died for us to not only have the right to vote – but to sit at the counter with some white people who hated/hate us because of our dark skin color. Imagine that…so many white people despise the color of our skin on our bodies – but yet they are waiting in line at the tanning salons and burning themselves on American beaches to look like us…?

Shirley and all blacks from all over the world should hate white men. We really should. Think about what the white man has done and caused all around the world. The strife. The pain that comes with them trying to be God’s Ultimate Creation. So, when the small part of Mrs. Sherrod’s speech that has been taken out of context was constantly played last night and this morning, I was feeling her. It is a similar feeling I get from time to time when I see a white man begging for money at the LaVista Road exit. That feeling:

‘I am not going to give him a damn dime. He has had one thing that I have lacked my entire life, skin privilege – and he did not make it past begging for pennies and nickels?’

Something always steps in my conscious – and summons me to reconsider. To be compassionate. To be what God expects of me…despite what the White World has reeked: Havoc.

Black people have countless issues. Some of our own making and many as a result of orchestrated Havoc.

One thing we cannot be when you look at the root of racism, Powerful. Racism requires power.

We, black people, do not have any power because we continue to forgive you, Mr. White Man, day after day.

I am not even sure if I want that Power…

Written by Brian E. Payne. Inspired by a true American, Shirley Sherrod.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Wasted Time

I don’t have a problem with people exercising their Freedom of Speech right. There is not too much someone can say that will offend me or hurt my feelings. I rarely get upset when I see an image that many would find offensive. I just don’t. I don’t care what people think unless it is directed to me by someone I know. Someone I consider an associate and/or friend. Even then it depends on what is lodged at/against me. If a white friend calls me a nigger, it will sting a little. If a black friend refers to me as Satan, it will bother me for a day or two. Actually, the Satan insult that typically comes from a sanctified brotha or sista hurts more. Both occurrences can be handled with grace and dignity. Crying about it or becoming forcefully agitated (fight) is a waste of time.

Why black people continue to waste time, I am not sure.

The NAACP is wasting valuable time passing a resolution of condemnation against the Tea Party Movement. Well, that part of the Tea Party Movement that refers to President Obama as a Black Hilter, that refers to black people as monkeys, that fringe part that continues to embarrass those well-meaning men and women who want to exercise their Freedom of Speech via protest.

Protest is what literally established the NAACP. Men and women decided to stand up against what they believed to be governmental wrongs e.g. segregation, non-voting rights, whole scale discrimination, and racist activity. Protest is/was the basis of the NAACP’s agenda. When someone is/was wronged the NAACP comes/came a running!

On several occasions the NAACP should have stayed in their comfortable offices - and there have been NUMEROUS occasions when I believed that they should have came out blazing. Like when a black child is shot by a black gang banger while sleeping in her bed. Like when a local church is trying their best with limited resources to address obesity within the black community. Like when black parents appear to care less about their children’s educational development. Like when black kids become so socially and morally out of touch that they appear to be entitlement zombies.

Think about what NAACP stands for, The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. The word ADVANCEMENT stands out to me. You?

We can advance in protest against crime that still to this day destroys our future, the black child. We can advance in protest against how fat we are becoming. Just morbidly fat and drastically out of shape. We can advance in protest against the rising high school dropout rate among black teenagers. We can advance in protest against our children living such carefree and ancestral unaccountable lives that they have no idea who Booker T. Washington is - and when our children tell us, ‘I am going to wear my pants and sneakers like this because it is the style.’

There is so much we can be doing besides sitting around a board room table passing a meaningless resolution or burying the N-word.

Does the average black person care that President Obama is being portrayed as a gorilla on a placard? Yes, the average black person does care. I find that to be so off-base. So out of touch with what is really important. So shallow. So limited. So ridiculous considering we (black people) rarely get this upset when we are the cause of our demise.

Read/heard all this before? Rhetorical minutia?

If yes, that in itself is the problem. We continue to miss the message. The message that will free us. Our freedom could have been purchased then controlled by us if we would have addressed this:

without whining to the system that planted the seeds of self hatred. Black people still begging their oppressor to respect them when in fact they refuse to honor themselves.

Written by Brian E. Payne

Roland Martin:

Thursday, July 08, 2010

The Dangers of Chasing Ass

*Stop wondering if that's an ass BPayne knows*

I had no interest in her. None whatsoever. My interest was driven by how her backside made my penis tingle! How her behind mysteriously called my name, Brian Eugene Payne. Called me like I was addicted to an illegal substance. Like I was chasing a crack high!

I could not stop looking. I was mesmerized by the shape. Aroused by the defining contours. It was literally PERFECT. No imperfections. None!

I am certain hundreds, maybe thousands of black men, would agree with me. White men still denying the donkey booty Agree that the butt was phat. However, I am not sure if these brothas would have been so engrossed in their lustful desires to touch it – really touch it – that they would almost cause a major accident.

White men gotta love this. They have to: Well, that one is a bit much! But, I like it!

Yeah…I am that guy who could have had to tell the police, ‘Officer, I rear ended the old lady because I was paying attention to a juicy rear end.’ I would have never told him, ‘The accident could have been prevented if I was not staring at God’s second best creation: a black female’s ass.

Black men have been known to allow an ass to ruin them. Literally, destroy their lives. White men too - but Me nah talking bout white men taday. It is not her brain. It is not her beauty, if she is beautiful. In many cases she is butt ugly! It has nothing to do with her. It is her ass. The ass is like a ‘being’ separate from the female’s persona. The ass is a detachable personality.

One maybe thinking that I am exaggerating. I am not. It all starts with that tingle. The initial arousal. When that happens it is decision time: ‘Shall I chase that ass or not?’ History has proven that the chase ends up being the selection. Common sense loses.

I was well on my way to ‘losing’ on that day of the near rear end. My eyes followed and followed. I could not stop looking. I tried too. My brain, real brain, intelligently encouraged me to focus on the road. The gladiator brain won the battle.

The only ‘thing’ that saved me was the close call, the wreck. I never thought I would thank God’s son (in imagination only – Jesus may have been conceived after Joseph saw that ass – Mary’s ass) for almost getting into an accident.

Thank you, Jesus!

Do these guys actually believe God is paying attention to their ‘Thank you’ gestures?

Written by Brian E. Payne. Inspired by that strong pull to get to that ass. It is a phenomenal urge – but with wisdom and erectile dysfunction it goes away.

One last word now that I have moved on to ED: You guys need to stop taking those C and V pills! What ya gonna do when u don't have one? Say, 'Sorry. I must be tired to tonight.' Men are idiots!