myalogy

Recaps

Powerful Thoughts 3.10 ~ FINITO ~

Well Powerfans, we’ve reached the conclusion of the third season. It felt very much like the second season of the wire to me….the “white” season, which on the surface, the first time around, was a nuisance and a distraction from my beloved towers and corner boys, but upon the conclusion of the series, stands up against any other season, except maybe the school system/kids season. I’m hoping that once its all said and done, this third season just seems like a sort of shit show, but once the story is concluded, will assume its rightful place in my perspective. Editor’s Note: Please know, I woke up at 6am Sunday morning, and discovered the world as I knew it had changed….this got damn episode was NOT on Comsucksfinity or whatever they calling themselves these days onDemand. I. WAS. LIVID. To the Facebook I go, and see folks commenting….WTF? Bada boom, bada bing, abracadabra, threats for passwords, I saw it. And still wrote this review three days later….I am a loser. Anyway, in the words of Stringer Bell, lets get to it muthafuckas…… Here Lies Gregex P. Keaton We open the show with Gregex showing up to the site where Ruiz’s body is found and retrieving the button recorder which has captured Tommy running his trap too damn much and killing Ruiz and his dumb hat. Cut to Greg in his office, cueing up the recorder when he is interrupted by some black dude I dont remember seeing before, who starts checking him for not reporting Ruiz’s death. Gregex rushes dude off, leaves and drops in on Nick Nolte, Homeland Security™, who breaks it to him that the tapes are inadmissible. He is not deterred, he feels like he can get folks to flip on each other. He first tries his bullshit with Ghost, who seems to have recovered some brain cells cuz he tells Greg he aint going…if he had something he would have arrested him. FOILED AGAIN MR. KEATON! He eturns home only slightly defeated, calls over Agent Sandoval and begins to tell him how he got the goods on Angie, Tommy and Ghost when he is interrupted by a phone call – its the Federales, calling to say, that they havent been in communication with anyone in his office, regardless of the fact that Sandoval said one of his tips regarding Lobos came from them. RUH ROH. Greg, now remembers Sandoval leaving Hugo’s crib and confronts him with this information, assuring him that they can make it alright if he just surrenders himself. Trump got these white men thinking they can save the world and make it great again, but who they cant save is themselves. Sandoval has not one second of time for that flimflam…..him and his silencer are gonna silence Greg permanently. He shoots and kills Greg and leaves the dirty Lobos burner phone in Greg’s desk. Agent Clarice Starling’s case is now officially closed. Gregex P. Keaton goes down as the mole. All Lean is Not Created Equal Tariq, (god is he still alive?) is yes, Mya, still alive and still hanging out with Kanan, who puts Tariq to the test to see if these hoes are indeed loyal…and SUPRISE CBreezy, they are. He tells Tariq to drop a package off to someone who seems to be an undercover officer. He cuffs Tariq and puts him in the back of a squad car driven by the biggest mama of them all, Jukebox. They aggressively question him, but he wont break. Kanan interrupts the interrogation and is visibly pleased by his lil pup. They all go back to dearly departed Meemaw’s crib for a celebratory round of lean, which is, according to Jukebox, mixed differently in DC than NYC. This superlean knocks Tariq clean out, while they decide what to do with him. Kanan wants to just have him break into his homies crib and make him a professional thief, but Juke has other designs….she wants to ransom, as a verb, Tariq, get Ghost to pay and still kill his kid, breaking him in his pockets and his heart. Kanan reluctantly (HUH? You killed your own son and was JUST bout to throw a baby out a window -literally) agrees and he and a comatose Tariq pose for a very rapey picture, which they promptly text to Tasha, who has just returned home from Truth and is desperately trying to reach an unreachable Ghost. The Best Laid Plans Our “hero” does have a plan and it includes him becoming the Black Spiderman to break into Greg’s crib to retrieve the recorder, after he sees Greg at the Ruiz murder scene. No sooner than he scales the fire escape and enters Greg’s apartment thru a window, does he find his dick FIRMLY in the dust…….He sees Angies drawls (draws?) and I am unable to can stop laughing….I love seeing folks catch the vapors…Its my PLEASURE. He looks up and sees the evidence wall targeting him and is completely broken. Just then Angie enters, he hides, and attempts to make a smooth getaway when she leaves, but — not gonna happen. He has to take off his pesky gloves to close Gregs window and make as much noise as possible while making his exit. Dropping shit down four stories, losing his Spidey sense and he aint even get what he came for. Shameful. He later meets up with Tommy and it appears Tommy is on his side, although I cant say I would be at this point. He tells Ghost that Milan plans to kill him later that night at Truth after he signs the Karen contracts, so they can continue business as usual with Dre at the helm of Truth. Fast forward to party time and everyone looking all shaaaaaab and happy, even Tasha, whose weave is remains a case. Ghost meets with Karen to sign the papers, under Milan’s watchful eye. Milan thinks its go time and steps to Ghost, ready to make his move, when Ghost tells

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And Now a Word on Blackyonce

By this late date, you are more than aware that Beyonce has instantly become the most black woman, dare I say person, in America.  She got on the world stage where the previous blackest title holder was Janet’s nip.  She done told yall that she likes Blue’s hair in an Afro, even tho that doesn’t explain why she sometimes likes it with lint in it, but I digress.  (im not linking to that picture, she’s a child, a beautiful lil black one for chrissakes, but Im a lowlife at times so if you wanna see it, hit me up in the DM, where it goes down).  She single handedly saved one of the most important black institutions in America, The Red Lobster. That alone should grant her instant savior status.  Where else would yall go after church, graduations, baptisms, the mall, exorcisms, a lover’s quarrel, a clean pap smear, etc.  And although Im not a member of the vaunted Beyhive, I picked up what she put down, with that Formation move.  Luckily for me and for those of you that pretend that you liked that song, I got to see the video sans music, cuz I was in a ghetto ass shop on Ashland doing something almost as black as that video – getting my hair crochet-did.  That shit was black as fuck.  BLM.  Afros.  Nostrils.  NOLA.  Katrina.  POLICE brutality. Made me think bout Kanye for a moment, when he was still black post-Katrina, then I felt dirty, repented and stopped.  I have my thoughts on the timing of the release followed immediately by high as giraffe ladyparts concert tickets RIGHT AROUND TAX TIME, but I aint in attendance for me today.  I am in attendance for one of the funniest folks I know, one Antonio Bealer.  I asked that negro what he thought.  One question.  What do you think about Beyonce…and this nword wrote a dissertation in my inbox!  Hivers….go away.  You wont be happy. Antonio? On Sunday as I was watching Cameron J. Newton and Co. lay down and let the already insufferable Manning family add another ring to their collection, (Why Black Jesus, why?) a popular singer named Beyonce Knowles (you may have heard of her once or twice) debuted a song that made a political statement during halftime. While singers using these platforms to make political statements is nothing new, this was a whole new world for the singer who previously pioneered the art of surfboarding and leading packs of single women to dance around in a circle celebrating their single-ness while she went home to her husband every night. Needless to say, it caused quite a firestorm.  Sometime between the end of the game and now despite her brief experience as a freedom fighter she has been installed as the new leader of Black Panther 2K16 by the powers that be and there have been oh so many social media battles between us peasants about Queen Bees motives, impact and how anybody who didn’t agree with what she did is a hater. SMFH.  So I’d like to take a moment to say…. STOP IT. All of you. Stop right now.  Stop it to all those who thinks that somehow Beyonce has channeled her inner Angela Davis and is gonna somehow inspire others to finally recognize that Black Lives do indeed MATTER. If I need someone to inspire women to drink large quantities of Ciroc and profess their love for “bae” or to eloquently throw their man out the house while only making left turns and leaving the keys to the Jag because she bought that, Then Beyonce will be the 1st person I turn to. When it comes to making anthems for ladies to follow (even tho she herself probably wouldn’t) she is indeed the queen. As Winnie Mandela 2.0 im not really buying what she’s selling. I for one just find it to be far too coincidental that this outburst came just as tickets for the Look at Me Stand Up for Yall Now When These Tickets Go On sale Tour went on sale.  I say stop it to the media and government officials in America and abroad who are calling for boycotts and investigations into her alleged “Black Panther” ties.  Are yall serious right now? Did yall listen to this song.  I didn’t know whether to go lie down on an expressway in protest or head to Red Lobster with a bottle of hot sauce  for some of those Cheddar Biscuits. The song was dumb as hell and although I don’t know her personally I’m gonna say her ties to an militant groups, ummm don’t exist. Unless you get the girls she dissed in destiny’s Child back together. Now there’s some black rage there. A double stop it to all the people who think EVERYTIME somebody doesn’t agree with one of their superhero’s (oh yes the Queen is an Avenger) that they are a hater. Beyonce and Jay are shrewd business people and had to have known that this mini controversy would generate publicity that no marketing campaign ever could. Furthermore, those performances are on tape delay. If what she sang was so bad, they would have NEVER aired it to 111 million people worldwide.  Its ok to have divergent opinions people. If you love Beyonce and she inspires you to do better than so be it. Do you.  Love on Top made me wanna change my life too. So I get it. But if you like me, think this was a shrewd publicity stunt, then theres nothing wrong with that. You shouldn’t have to be attacked on social media by the Beehive for dissing the Queen. They have a right to be angry after seeing those tickets prices for the On the Run From The Man Tour. At any rate. Stop. Enjoy the Show. Because that’s all it is. READ IT.  LIKE IT?  SHARE IT!

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The Pursuit of Mayoralness

A couple of months ago, I was selected to be one of the “Top Bachelorettes of Chicago” — yeah y’all see it.  It was a pretty dope event, but everyone there was much younger than me.  There was this one dude in there, fly as hell, playing the back.  I slid over, laid my game down quite flat, put the dimples on him and shit.  We chitted and chatted.  He told me he traveled a lot for his father’s company – was rarely in town.  We exchanged numbers and ended up texting a week or so later, but nothing ever materialized.  He floated to that place in my brain where people I meet in passing go to be forgotten.  I’m quite certain I disappeared to that same exact place in his.  Fast Forward a couple months, I’m lying on Frusband’s couch, watching some fair and balanced news, when I see a face on the screen, that I know, but don’t know.  It was dude.   It was a story about how his wealthy father was a not a dead beat dad, as his half-brother previously described him on that very same news program.  I remember the complete story, but I ain’t gonna bore y’all with the details.  At this point in the story, the only pertinent information is his daddy was running for mayor of Chicago and is worth 60 MILLION DOLLARS.  What follows is where some of you will begin to think less of me and some of you will completely understand. Found him on The Book.  Hit that message button and SLIIIIIIDDDDDDDDDD all up in his inbox.  Said some old slick shit, we went back and forth a couple messages.  He was still that cool dude I’d spent that evening with. I decided at that point, I would never run my big mouth about his dad on social media, for one day, I may be the First Lady of the Family Business.  Today, I learned why people should not ever say never.  His father forced my hand today. His father tapped danced all over my last good nerve.  His father walked me right up to the edge, and pushed.  His father challenged my resolve ….and his father’s name is Willie Wilson. I met Mr. Wilson when he came by my job to do an interview.  When he and his contingency arrived, I thought them to be a church group.  Nothing about them screamed politics.  Nothing.   It wasn’t until I saw him on his way out and he asked if he had my vote that I discovered he was running for mayor.  I told him I had to check out his platform and I’d holla back. Well, check him out I did.  In the interview with our political editor.  In the infamous Chicago Tribune Questionnaire. On Chicago Tonight.  On Hardball.  And finally kids….in the Great Mayoral Debate of ’15.  JEEZUS. Let me just say, for those of you who may not be familiar with Mr. Wilson, his is an incredible story.  Google “Rags to Riches” and you are gonna see his face.  This is a person who has truly picked himself up by his bootstraps and like most of us he wasn’t wearing a halo the entire time.  There are skirmishes, accusations, deaths, personal setbacks and still, he rose.  Despite only having a 7th grade education, this man has ascended to the heights that many of you can only dream. (SHADE TREE EMOTICON AT YALL)  As he likes to remind us, he is two generations from slavery.  His manner of speaking won’t let us forget that fact – it can be challenging at times to understand him.  But he’s created and run a number of successful companies, so somewhere along the way someone knew exactly what the fuck he was talking about…FUCK MYA. So this is what made me give up my light weight quest for the throne.   This is an actual tweet sent out by…..somebody in his camp, after the first mayoral debate.  I suppose they felt victorious. The much vaunted “gotcha moment” had been achieved, I guess. It helps if you know how to spell your opponent’s name and understand subject verb agreement if you are attempting to feel superior to someone. He’s not ready to be Mayor.  And that’s fine.  Many argued Barack wasn’t ready to be President, but he was.  Willie don’t seem to give NO FUX about being mayor, and that, is not fine.  His platform, or lack thereof, written responses, spoken responses and those he’s chosen to surround himself with, tell me that.   If I’m wrong and you do have fux to give, Willie, pick up what I’m bout to lay down. 1.  Please understand that Spell Check is your friend.  It’s all of our friend, trust me.  Please don’t ever again send out another written response nor TWEET without hitting the ol’check.  Share this info with your press person too, K? 2. Get a one-way ticket out of Hollywood.  Hendon.  As in Rickey.  He has you running for mayor of Black Chicago and that place does not exist. That nickel slick shit he does works on the west side.  It ain’t gonna play all over the city.  And another thing, lemme holla at you bout them radio spots Hollywood blessed you with…. 3.  Stop talking bout Meigs Field.  It’s not “hot-button” as they say in politics. No one is sitting out on Northerly Island on a warm summer night thinking about how they wish they weren’t there, but an airport they never went to was. Promise. 4.  Hire some political consultants.  Let Sister Mary’nem return to the Deaconess Board.  I seent you on Election Night up on da stage with Boss Rauner.  He bought a campaign, ask him for the homies number. 5.  Don’t come back until you do all of the above.  You are the shit in so many ways.  You could likely teach a class at Harvard School of Business.  Hell, a Pursuit of Happyness type of movie

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