Author: christabelduah

Libra Darlings

Notes To Self

I fell in love in October. His name was Kris and I imagined how lovely it’d be not to have to change my last initial. We fell quick. Like a piercing; a sharp sting turning into a dull throb that would resonate in the back of my mind until it’d eventually subside, leaving behind lovely permanence. He went to church and believed in a way that didn’t judge, but my mother would appreciate. It ended over a lie (his) and fear (mine) that we would never let hurt (us) now.

T was born in October and his name rhymed with mine. He was never going to make a claim in the way the both of us needed. I was nicked in high school and slowly leaked blood for ten years until I finally — mercifully — figuratively — slit my own throat so that I could make it end. He was my best friend and my best friend hated him. I should’ve listened to her.

One October, D gave me a necklace with my name on it. The only thing I asked for and I managed to lose it not long after. Thrice. A fitting metaphor for how things went between us. This felt like a tattoo I wouldn’t let fully heal. I picked picked picked at the inky wounds until I finally finally finally lasered it off altogether. A series of could’ve would’ve should’ves.

(Sometimes I wish I was a kid, man. Because heartbreak feels bad in a place like this.)

In the quiet autumn moments when a gorgeous song tickles my brain to tears, I ruminate on the various contrasts. And sometimes when I squint at the invisible wounds — some gaping, some small, each immense — I miss the fall.

Alas, I’ll keep October for me and my Libra darlings whose blood and memories and harmonies I share. “I love yous” exchanged with actual meaning and warmth for the winter.

Dedication to a Fake Thug

Musicology, You Didn't Ask Me, But...

Perhaps this thesis is an unsubstantiated, biased piece of writing. Perhaps I don’t intend to include more than a modicum of evidence to support my case, if any at all. Perhaps all these points are merely the rantings of a nobody millennial with time on her hands. All I know is, what’s done in the dark shall be brought to light, ya heard?

Puff, Sean John, Prince of Persia — whatever moniker he’s parading his millions under these days — is not to be trusted. Aside from the negative vibes I feel radiating from him — I’m all about them vibes, baby —  I want to point out that he is considered to be a premiere MUSIC MOGUL. Sure, he deserved that label in the past, but the sheer fact that he regularly sits atop the Forbes list of richest musicians is laughable when he a) doesn’t personally make music and b) when he does bother, isn’t making anything worth a damn. (Remember Diddy-Dirty Money? Not on purpose I’m sure.) Diddy is a mogul, yes, but his empire is built on conning the (ethnic) masses into drinking his regular-degular vodka and, once upon a time, tricking the people into wearing his clothing — all oversized, ill fitting and damn, I’m glad that era is over — while padding his resume with the talents of others.

Back in the ’90s before the East Coast-West Coast rap rivalry erupted in the deaths of Pac and Biggie (#RIP), Diddy was rolling as Big’s BFF, producer, label head, bad boy for life or whatever the hell, then, boom, Big’s dead. Why, yes, I do believe Suge Knight “did that shit,” but I’m casting a pristine side eye in the direction of Puff Daddy.

Why? You know why.

Then he did his own little rap thing, fine. I’ll give him his laurels, he had them bops — I’ll two-step to “Feel So Good” on request — but he was supposed to be a career maker. A producer, lest we forget, because fast forward to the mid-to-late oughts and I’m thinking he might have.

Then, there is Lil’ Kim — you know what, nah. Kim deserved more from all the “Bad Boys” and imma leave it at that.

I’d like to bring  your attention to “Making the Band 2, 3, 4.” In the early days of television-launched music careers, before that particular industry/path to super stardom felt bloated, Diddy decided he was going to put together a super group(s). There was the group “Da Band” (MTB2), which, although a definitive failure, inspired one of the most hilarious parodies in existence.

Next, Diddy put together “Day26” (MTB3): a group of five (relatively) attractive chocolate daddies black men who could carry a tune. Diddy was supposed to bring them to the musical promised land of R&B milk and hella honeys, yet he led his people astray because we haven’t heard a peep from those boys in years. Except for that time Willie was embarrassing his lady love on VH1, but that’s men for ya. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Then, Puff had the black ass audacity to rinse and repeat with “Danity Kane” (MTB4): a group of five (relatively) attractive United Nations ambassadors variably ethnic women who could carry a tune. Moses he was certainly not because those girls put out a few hits and fell apart faster than soggy bread. While I shall acknowledge that individual personalities certainly matter when considering the demise of these bands, Diddy’s ego certainly plays a part! Because that’s the point of this article.

Then, Diddy found himself a singing “Honey” — seriously, why are there (four) movies — named Cassie Ventura. Yet, with all the powers vested in he, the best he could do for her music dreams was join her on “Must Be Love” and watch her look cute in a dance studio before deciding she’d look better on his arm. I may be speculating wildly, — media, amirite — but when was the last time Cassie — who posessses some semblance of a voice and obviously musical goals — was recognized for being anything other than Diddy’s girlfriend. You would think if your MUSIC MOGUL man cared a lick about your individual aspirations, he might, you know, apply some of that elbow grease in your direction. And on top of that, Puff still hasn’t even had the decency to make you a wife?

Alas.

In conclusion, I’d like you to turn your attention to Sean John’s next business venture: a program entitled “The Four: Battle For Stardom.” For the uninitiated, the series involves (four) judges:

  • Music Mogul – Diddy
  • Music Executive – Charlie Walk*
  • Singer/songwriter – Meghan Trainor
  • Producer – DJ Khaled

who allow (four) people to compete for a contract through which the (four) aforementioned heavyweights will lead them to greatness. (Not the best synopsis, but Google is still free.)

As previously mentioned, the TV-to-fame realm has been oversaturated and a Fergie-hosted competition is hardly going to catapult any careers, but the idea intrigued me enough to watch. Already having qualms about each judge — DJ Khaled’s overbearing hype-ness, Meg’s undeserved GRAMMY Best New Artist win over Tori “She Has the Range” Kelly, Charlie being a cis white male with all the opinions  (*who may be the latest on a list of sexual harassers — fun), and Diddy being Diddy — I decided I would soldier on. Watching in reverse, it took three episodes until I made it to the premiere where I saw the so-called MOGUL, who’d already been displaying his egomaniacal tendencies up to this point, decide to annihilate a poor girl’s feelings for no discernible reason other than to make himself look important.

“I think that it’s a cold cruel world out and the truth will set you free and I have to always speak the truth. I didn’t like it one bit,” he said to poor Lorde Jr. As the audience booed his reaction, he clapped back, saying, “You’re all liars.” This, of course, lead to a snowball of negativity headed by Puff bellowing like a toddler.

“Your honeymoon is over,” he said, slamming his palms on the table. “The honeymoon is over America! I want greatness now! Send me greatness!”

It was a ridiculous, unwarranted power trip and the girl was talented (as was everyone who literally stepped on the show — that’s the point) meaning he had nary a reason to berate her before God and man. But he’s Diddy, so, cool?

The essence of his attitude was so dastardly, every clip I’d seen of him dancing in his mansion and being daddy of the year to his daughters and sons — all things that had previously amused me or nearly warmed by perpetually chilled heart — was no longer enough to overcome my distaste for the acidic nature of his personality.

Frankly, my dear, it’s obvious — save your @s for the keyboard — that Diddy is nothing more than a nefarious presence. Not just on “The Four,” nay, but in life, because for any MUSIC MOGUL worth his salt to be rolling in the dough while his mentees aren’t popping by any stretch of any imagination…it’s a crying shame.

The best things Diddy has done, in my humble opinion, include rallying the troops for “I’ll Be Missing You,” featuring Jesse Williams’ hot, educated face in a commercial and producing an assortment of (relatively) attractive sons. And, of course, the one that personally sends me into a tizzy didn’t even come from his own loins.

The knave.

Honestly, Quincy, maybe it’s global warming.

 

 

I Edit My Vulnerability

Notes To Self

I know what it is when I can no longer breathe in a sudden moment and the thoughts come quickly. Faster and faster. Thoughts about what I haven’t done, what I need to do, what I want to do, the cants the cans, the should haves, the could haves, the why-did-yous. They come quickly until I am fetal in my mind and then, suddenly,  also, in my bed. And then I weep like I know intimately what death is like and it’s coming for a visit I didn’t plan for.

I know that the sinking emptiness that has me marathoning a show I’m only vaguely invested in is something else, because when I say I’m “watching TV,” all I can see is the reflections of the screen in the poster hanging beside my bed because no, I’m not “watching TV,” but staring listlessly at the wall. Whatever “it” is has me eating food I don’t want or need only because I’ve cooked it and I’ve cooked food I don’t want or need only because I have nothing else to do. Or rather, I have too much to do and feel as though there’s not enough time in the universe to do it regardless of what Beyoncé’s 24-hours look like.

But I’m fine! Because how do you explain this to people who you know aren’t going to say anything you don’t already know or haven’t already heard or haven’t already told yourself or worse yet, told someone else because advice is freely given but damned if I can take it.

(You relate.)

I know the things to do, the links to click, buy a book and read on it. Speak up because keeping it in is never a good thing.  You don’t have to tell me twice, because I’m hip and I know what I would never do. No Hannah Bakers here — never that — but still, the wall is there and I’m looking staring listlessly at it as the scenarios run through my head until it has been a week of coming and going and the only thing I’ve accomplished is cleaning my room and I’m calling it self-care.

I am angry that I feel like this, and I’m angrier that I feel like I can’t say anything about it knowing very well I can and I’m angry my vices aren’t even interesting like sex, drugs or rock’n’roll because then someone would see the spiral for more than a symptom of “introversion.”

I’m angry that I’m writing this to put on a blog I don’t update because when I feel like what’s the point, what is the point? I’m aware of everything all the time and I wish I wasn’t. I wish i wasn’t my own devil’s advocate with every thought, opportunity, opinion I have. I wish I could say all my beliefs come from a sturdy place, but I can’t. I wish I could say I had goals that I’m working towards, but I don’t know that I am. I’m mad that the go–tos are to “push through!” because that’s somehow an easy thing to do when I live life like my hands, my voice, my spirit is is shaking and I can’t get them to stop.

Always neutral, when I don’t want to be when I’m fighting myself to be up or down. Why do I care when it would be easy otherwise

— empathy is crippling because other people’s shoes don’t often fit.

I’m resentful, bitter and always a little bit angry at everything always because of course I know what’s going on, but even as I write this and edit (when I said I wouldn’t) I’m overthinking whether or not these overt thoughts are what I think they are.

WhatdoIknowandwhatisangerevenandIshouldbeabletomeditatebutIcan’tsomehowandmaybeI’mjustoverreactingandwritinghelpsandIwillbeokayeventuallybutsometimesyoujust

gotta not and let that rock too.

 

 

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This NFL team is joining forces with police unions to support controversial legislation

Oct. 27, 2017

The San Francisco 49ers and law enforcement have been linked in controversy for well over a year — a result of ex-Niner Colin Kaepernick’s high profile protest regarding civil rights.

The two camps joined together to announce a move supporting gun control legislation. The main goal of the legislation is to ban armor-piercing bullets, silencers and “bump stocks,” which made headlines for changing the Las Vegas shooters weaponry from semi-automatic to automatic.

The Niners have plans to donate $500,000 towards the initiative and part of the donation would go specifically towards nationally publicized PSA’s meant to ease tension between law enforcement and the public.

As gun control legislation is already a highly contentious topic, Robert Harris, secretary of the Los Angeles Police Protective League, underscored the fact that the movement was not aimed at obstructing Second Amendment rights.

“We are unwavering in our support of the Second Amendment. We also believe that common-sense laws should be put into place to protect law-enforcement officers and the citizens they serve,” Harris said. “If as a country we hope to make any progress, it will take all of us to leave our comfort zones.”

In a statement released by the police union and the NFL team, they explain their position:

The duty of law enforcement must also include actively participating in bringing our nation together and working to foster a more understanding and compassionate national dialogue around community and police officer relations. We believe that professional sports teams should utilize their capacity to reach millions of Americans to promote initiatives that help law enforcement professionals and the citizens they serve understand their respective experiences and to listen to one another with an open mind and heart.

The 49ers and police unions intend to reach out to other NFL teams and police unions to garner support for the initiatives.

Team CEO Jed York acknowledges criticism for the stance, but he feels the purpose is what matters.

“If we’re going to move forward, we can’t worry about hurt feelings,” he said. “If we take criticism along the way, we are all willing to take criticism if we can make people safer.”

Reposted with permission.

A former “Price is Right” model is opening up about what she really thinks of Drew Carey

Jan. 11, 2018

Since stepping into Bob Barker’s role as host of “The Price is Right,” Drew Carey has become a staple in households everywhere. According to one former model on the show, the 59-year-old TV personality had big shoes to fill — but he didn’t disappoint.

British model Gwendolyn Osborne-Smith hung up her game show heels in October 2017 after a dozen years as a model on the program. The 39-year-old joined the game show in 2005 — two years before Carey’s arrival — after being spotted during a guest appearance on “The Bold and The Beautiful.”  According to her, Carey helped usher the show into a different era for the models. In his decade as host, the show has seen its first male model and given mics to the models to show off their personalities in addition to their physical features, reported Fox News.

“When Drew Carey stepped in, he was so very happy to make changes and bring ‘Price is Right’ into a new era,” she told Fox News. “We were all ready to become personalities rather than just look like models.”

The actress was one of the first to appear on the series sporting her baby bump, but the show’s host was “supportive” and didn’t force her to “pick between [her] personal life and [her] career.”

“[Carey] was over the moon. And I was, of course, so relieved and elated,” she recalled about telling the host the news of her pregnancy. “He was very happy to have the opportunity, through me, to prove the type of man he was and how different he was than Bob Barker’s era.”

“He celebrates women and uplifts them.”

“I will always be grateful to Drew,” the mother of five gushed. “Before I was married, I was a single mother with a daughter, and he held a high respect for me because of that. I was working with such a respectable man. I’ve never had any concerns of sexual harassment with him. It was actually the opposite. I was embraced and empowered by working with him.”

A fan favorite, Osborne-Smith left the show to take on the mantle of COO of Smith Entertainment Group (SEG), a production company she heads with her husband, former basketball player and sports analyst Kenny Smith.

Ending her time on the show was “bittersweet” for her and Carey both.

“He was very teary-eyed. But he was happy for me,” she revealed. “He and I are good friends, and he knows the journey I’ve been on behind the scenes in terms of production and creating. He’s always been very supportive. It was bittersweet.”

Reposted with permission.

China has banned Katy Perry from the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, and the reason is surprising

Nov. 17, 2017

The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is crumbling faster than the Great Wall of China.

The Shanghai-based show is set to air on CBS on Nov. 28, but a slew of high profile faces — including pop singer Katy Perry — won’t be present.

According to Page Six, an insider disclosed that Perry — who was slated to perform and booked well in advance — had attempted to apply for a Chinese visa but was denied.

The “Chained to the Rhythm” songstress was originally approved to enter the Communist nation, but the decision was reversed after officials rediscovered a controversial incident from a few years back. In 2015, Perry had performed in the Taiwanese capital of Taipei wearing a glittery, sunflower patterned dress. Sunflowers were apparently the adopted symbol for Taiwanese anti-China protesters, and at the time, caused international outrage in the communist nation. (China and Taiwan have been embattled in a longstanding conflict.)

The fact that she also waved a Taiwanese flag during her performance to show support for the country apparently didn’t help matters.

According to a Page Six source, Chinese officials are known to comb the internet for controversial news, which is how the issue resurfaced.

“She was initially granted a visa to perform at the VS show in Shanghai, then Chinese officials changed their minds and yanked her visa,” they explained. “For every artist who wants to perform in China, officials comb through their social-media and press reports to see if they have done anything deemed to be offensive to the country. Maroon 5 was banned a few years ago because one band member wished the Dalai Lama happy birthday on Twitter.”

Gigi Hadid also suddenly dropped out of walking in the show, after  confirming her booking in August. She tweeted, in part, “I’m so bummed I won’t be able to make it to China this year. Love my VS family, and will be with all my girls in spirit!” Her announcement came on the heels of the revelations that four models from Ukraine and Russia — Julia Belyakova, Kate Grigorieva, Dasha Khlystun and Irina Sharipova — had also been denied visas. According to Page Six, supermodel Adriana Lima’s visa has also been held up due to a “diplomatic problem.”

If Katy Perry’s controversial dress is any indication, Hadid’s own past controversy came back to bite her. Earlier this year, she came under fire for “racism” after her fellow model and sister Bella, shared a since-deleted video of her laughing and squinting her eyes while holding a cookie featuring the face of a samurai.

Insiders with the show say the Chinese government is firmly to blame for turning the show into an international media disaster and coordinators are “on the verge of nervous breakdowns.” In addition to people not being allowed in the country, producers are being denied access to shoot anywhere outside of the Mercedes-Benz Studio, where the show is being filmed.

“If you’re going to China, you want to show that you are in China!” an insider griped to Page Six.

“It’s just a nightmare for all the media trying to cover [the show],” said another source. “These TV companies are spending a fortune on it, and they don’t even know what they can shoot when they get there.”

Unfortunately for all the “Katy Kats” out there, they’re going to have to find somewhere else to see their queen. Harry Styles is set to replace the singer along with a rumored performance from resident Victoria’s Secret pal, Taylor Swift.

Bob Foster: An End of An Era

Journalism Writing - MASC 203, Portfolio, Writing

With one semester left, Robert “Bob” Foster looks forward to his future.

“I gotta go; I’m tired now. I’ll come back and joke and jive, but academia has burned me out. The only job I’ll have is to walk to the mailbox and get my check,” he said with a laugh.

The Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) Communication Arts professor is lively, gesturing wildly and adding sound effects when he shares his life’s stories. At 68, he has many.

Zannutul Ferdous, a junior in his non-major drawing class, appreciates his perspective.

“You can tell he really isn’t like any other professor to tell at VCU. It’s interesting that he’s been all over the world and seen so many things. It’s insightful,” Ferdous said.

Foster has been a member of the VCU Arts community for 37 years. He graduated from the university with a Bachelor of Fine Arts Degree in 1977.

He always knew he could draw, but never expected to be here today.

“I went through high school, got out of there, took one art class and realized I wasn’t interested,” Foster said.

He was born on Nov. 13, 1946, in Swiftown, Mississippi. He was the fourth generation to live on a cotton plantation. An only child when farm families were large, his parents let him ride their cotton sacks to the fields when he was only four, an experience he remembers fondly.

Foster attended a segregated school until the fourth grade. The change in education after moving to an integrated school was drastically noticeable.

“When I think back on it, I was being programmed by the system with inadequate education. It was like going from the United States to Russia. I didn’t understand anything,” he said.

Science and math were never his strong suits, but Foster still wasn’t focused on art. He just hoped to avoid being drafted into the Vietnam War, which had killed three friends. He entered the Air Force and worked as a heating specialist and after being discharged, worked as a windshield inspector. This was a hard job he didn’t enjoy.

“I came home and I was hot. I was mad. I was angry. I said, God what am I gonna do? A commercial came on advertising an art school. I said that’s it,” he said.

A friend’s mother eventually pointed him to VCU — he would later earn a Masters of Fine Arts at Syracuse University — where he made many undergraduate connections that would lead to his current position.

For Foster, education is about instilling the basics. As a student, he felt he and others weren’t given an essential foundation and only a handful of his own professors provided the necessities.

“My photography teacher taught me how to see. I learned that form should be felt before you touch it. When the picture starts speaking to you, you don’t have to be there to explain it. That’s what I try to teach all of my students,” he said.

With his focus on the fundamentals, Foster considers himself to be boring. However, his list of endeavors and experiences are extensive. He once ran from a bodyguard named Igor while attending an international exhibition in Soviet Union Russia. He’s a brown belt in Shotokan karate. He developed the Scientific and Preparatory Medical Illustration track at VCU.

He jokes often about relaxing after accomplishing so much. Still, he won’t retire from art completely. He wants to turn his focus on history. Foster plans to paint the experiences of the colored troops who fought in the Siege of Vicksburg, beginning with his great grandfather and uncle.

According to Foster, more people should know about the local African Americans who contributed in the Civil War.

“I want to tell the story, our story…so that people can understand what we’ve been through and maybe they’ll evaluate themselves.”

###

TS: Return to Sender

Musicology, You Didn't Ask Me, But...

Taylor Swift recently released Look What You Made Me Do, the first single and video from her upcoming telenovela treatise angry diary post album “Reputation.” In the song, she opines how KanyeKimPeopleBoyfriendsHuh forced her to kill off her old personas–essentially, her rebirth from the fires of pop culture. A vanilla bean phoenix if you will.

Well, sis, you can go ahead and kill this edition of yourself too, because we don’t want it either.

Taylor Ssssswift took JAY-Z’s immortal lyrics I’m not a businessman; I’m a business, man! to laudable heights. I’ll give her props for making herself into a pop culture icon with millions of album sales, millions of fans, and millions upon millions of dollars. Sure, she’s worked hard and possesses musical talents. And reinventing herself from bubblegum country queen to music maven was merely par for the course. Kudos. But all along, as she built persona after persona, she added more pieces of plastic to her image, wrapping herself in a thick film of fakeness audiences now see through much too easily.

As her contrived victimhood grew, so did our disbelief in her authenticity. It all began with the VMAs (wrong!) awarding Swift the Video of the Year Award over Queen Bey and launching Kanye West further into (sad!) infamy. Although we were all thinking it, West said it (OMG, Brittany!) and turned himself into the public’s King Kong, dragging the helpless white woman to the top of the Empire Building to be saved. I thoroughly believe Taylor would’ve gotten to the top eventually, but I call shenanigans if you think the VMA scandal wasn’t kerosene poured onto the fires of her career.

giphy

The beginning of a grand ol’ time

It was cute and she was dandy in the beginning, and maybe it wasn’t her fault, but ours as the audience, for egging on a mostly paltry conflict. We fanned the flames as West went down a rabbit hole and Swift was uplifted. But then, the perpetual defense of Swift in connection to West got boring. And worst of all, annoying. It could’ve been set aside and overcome and I wouldn’t have to be out here caping for Mr. West, which I am loath to do. But then there was Katy Perry. In this white-on-white gang war,  Swift came out on top surrounded by a #girlsquad that seemed as sturdy as a straw house. And then there was her cries for #feminism, but seemingly only when it proved useful to her victimhood.* The longer you feigned shock at award shows, the more we grew weary and the bigger you got, the less you used your sizable voice to make an actual impact.

And then Kim Kardashian dropped the Snapchat of the year and it was revealed that Taylor Swift was as calculating as we’d imagined.

She was suddenly unmasked.

But instead of taking any onus of responsibility, she asked to be “excluded from the narrative.” As my beloved mother always says, tell the truth and shame the devil. She, unlike Taylor, knew better.

Now here we are. She took a well-deserved sabbatical, but came back swinging swords  she didn’t earn, with a new persona that seems equally as contrived as the old for all of the pomp and circumstance. She’s bringing sexy back or something like that, but I don’t buy it. No one made you do anything. Not to mention, a fair amount of your haters were fans who were simply over it. 

All celebrities have a right to rebrand themselves, but we don’t buy it when you choose not to address the actual reasons why folks are over your personas. Work on that aspect of your reputation and why you think you need to dead them at all, because I suspect you haven’t quite figured it out.

In this new era, you say the old you can’t come to the phone?

Girl, we really weren’t calling.

 

*I will concede that part of this was a result of her being slut-shamed and no woman should go through any kind of sexual assault or verbal abuse because of her relationships. Or for any reason. Rape culture is disgusting.