I really, REALLY do. And this one never fails to make me laugh
Even though I have always, ALWAYS hated Star Trek, the TV Show.

But you know what I DON’T HATE?
Black History!
And since we’re TALKING about Star Trek (and we totally are)
Look at all this lovely in one picture!

On the left we have Nichelle (my belle) Nichols. One of the first African American women TV Characters
Who was not a servant. She’s also one of the participants in the first interracial kiss on US Television.
With none other than Captain James T Kirk, Intergalactic Ho.

As it turns out, Nichelle wanted to leave the show, but Dr Martin Luther (the) King, Jr. told her
she “could not give up” because she was playing a vital role model for black children and young women across the country,
as well as for other children who would see blacks appearing as equals.

And.

It’s good she stayed on, because on your right, we have one of those black girls she would end up influencing.
That there is former NASA astronaut Mae Jemison.
She was the first African-American woman to travel in space, aboard the shuttle Endeavour.
She served as the science mission specialist on the STS-47 Spacelab J flight, which launched 12 September 1992.
She was ALSO the first “real” astronaut to appear on Star Trek.
Jemison has cited Nichols’ role of Lieutenant Uhura as her inspiration for wanting to become an astronaut.
And there you have it guys! Art imitating life, or something like that.
But not the Imitation of Life* because THESE women are definitely proud of being black and pioneering the way
for other young black women to do and be things that they’d never thought they could.
Yes. I did just randomly throw in movie reference.
(Look at me, Dani! I finally remembered the name of this damn movie on my own!)
Well. Not randomly. The Oscars are THIS WEEKEND.
So yeah. There’s a pretty good chance I’ll have something to say about the Oscars.
Aside from making cracks about how #OscarsSoWhite it won’t wear a jacket and long pants in the winter.
Or maybe not.
See you Monday for ONE! MORE! WEEK! of BHFOTDs!

*YES. Imitation of Life was an Oscar nominated film. Not for Best Picture, doe.
If you’ve never seen it, YOU SHOULD. You should also buy some stock in Kleenex.
Because LAWD HAVE MERCY, MAHALIA JACKSON SANGING AT A FUNERAL WILL HAVE YOU LAID OUT.
LAID. OUT.
ALSO, It definitely is a reflection of colorism in America.
AND the reason why even now, such lists as Celebrities you didn’t know were black exist
Because being thought of as any other race (Interjection!: Did you know that Vanessa Williams ancestry is ancestry is 23% from Ghana, 17% from the British Isles, 15% from Cameroon, 12% Finnish, 11% Southern European, 7% Togo, 6% Benin, 5% Senegal and 4% Portuguese?)
(I’ll let YOU decide if that was a related comment)
is still better than being thought of as Black in America.

…and Kanye, can we also talk about Kim?
Because WHY was she out there looking like Ric Flair?

WOO!

WHY AM I STILL TALKING ABOUT THE GRAMMYS?
Because I can!
Because I have so much to say!
Because yannow. I love music. Because I’m black.
I should stop saying that. I won’t. But I should.
Because er’body loves music.
Music brings people of all races together*!

I mean…Iggy Azalea lost to EMINEM for the Best Rap Album this year!
Also? Did y’all know that Eminem won Best Rap Album six times in the history of this category?
AND. That EVERY TIME Eminem was nominated for this category, he won?
And I’m sure that’s probably not that he was the only white person in a category dominated by African Americans
And not because it’s an industry that dominated by white folks.
(After all Macklemore and Ryan Lewis ALSO won and I KNOW FOR SURE it was a better rap album than Kendrick Lamar Duckworth)
(No. There still isn’t a sarcasm font)
I’m not knocking Marshall’s skill.
I’m JUST SAYING.
It’s quite the coincidence.

Anyways! Back to what I was saying.
Marshall Mathers has six Grammys and Snoop has NONE.
And neither does NAS.
Or Public Enemy
Or NWA.
(HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)
Man, listen. Ain’t no way the Grammys would ever give none of those…thugs meaning n-words not RAPPERS awards.
For all of the obvious reasons.

But.
What about Run DMC?
Run DMC also has NO Grammys.
Run DMC was the FIRST:
• To be nominated for a Grammy (Best R&B Vocal Performance by a Duo or Group/ BEFORE rap categories existed even)
• To have a gold album and a platinum record
• To have videos on MTV
• To appear on American Bandstand
• To be signed to a major product endorsement deal (Adidas)

I mean…if you tell me you like hip hop and don’t know who they are, everything else you say is invalid. FOR REAL.
According to people who know about music, “More than any other hip-hop group, Run–D.M.C. are responsible for the sound and style of the [hip-hop] music.” Characterized by sparse, hard-hitting beats, this would form the foundation of hardcore hip hop (particularly hardcore East Coast hip hop). As such, Run–D.M.C. is considered the originators of the style, and hardcore hip hop would dominate the next two decades of rap music, from the bombastic, noisy sound of Public Enemy and stripped minimalism of Boogie Down Productions to the thump of early Wu-Tang Clan and Nas. All people who do NOT have Grammys.

Their influence was not limited to JUST the East Coast.N.W.A., on their landmark 1988 album Straight Outta Compton, showed heavy influences from Tougher Than Leather-era Run–D.M.C., and Chicano rap act Cypress Hill were definitely influenced by Run–D.M.C.’s fusion of rap and rock.

Hell, even their look and style of the street would define the next 25 years of hip hop fashion.
(And I’ll be honest. I’m not a fan of grown men wearing skinny jeans. BUT WTF DO I KNOW? I’m 42 damn years old and am not at ALL impressed at men wearing pants tight as mine and YET AND STILL managing to not be able to pull them up to where I don’t have to see your skid marks. JUST SAYING)

SO. That’s your BHFOTD, kids. You didn’t get one yesterday. Because I am SO FUCKING BUSY. But, because I love you, I wanted to tell you about Run DMC:
The Second rap group to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Incidentally by Eminem. HUH.
(The First is Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five)
Also. Since this BHFOTD is about Run DMC, lemme leave y’all with my sissie’s favorite song, because it’s been a while since I’ve mentioned her in a post!
* At least everyone came together to agree that Iggy Azalea’s fake dirty souf accent havin’ ass did NOT deserve a Grammy for her black-face rapping. So we at least have that. *high fives everyone*

Y’all. I see a LOT of movies over the course of a year.
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve seen Annie AND Selma.

Y’all know I love a good musical. Hence the subject of today’s post.
Yeah. I know that’s not the new Annie. SO? I can like the old Annie too.
And, yes. I liked the new Annie. It was cute and I totally got why the kids loved it.
I was 10 when the original Annie came out. Which, incidentally, is about the age the new Annie is geared toward.
AND? The 10 year old that I went with loved it.

I know people complained because the new Annie was black NOT THE 1982 ANNIE, but listen. I ran across this FB post that explains
perfectly why the new Annie is appropriate.

Aside from the fact that Annie is a fictional character and REALLY can be any damn color the writer chooses.
Including blue. Although I feel like trying to pass off an Avatar as a human child would be reaching.

But I guess we’re not here for this today, are we?
We’re here ‘cause it’s THE REVEREND DOCTOR Martin Luther (the) King Jr Day. And I’m at work. While most of y’all are not.
Work on the plantation is never done, y’all.
And since I *AM* here, I may as well talk about Selma. Since it came out this weekend, and I saw it.
NORMALLY. I’d say no to this kind of biopic.

Because it’s been done.
“We shall overcome….”
“I have a dream…”
BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. JESUS. DID MLK, JR. SAY ANYTHING ELSE AT ALL?
(Turns out he did. You’re welcome!)

And really, I kinda know how it ends. He’s ASSASSINATED.

That’s not a spoiler! Because:
1. THIS IS HISTORY, SO EVERYBODY SHOULD KNOW THIS.
2. That’s not what this movie is about!
Which. Is why I liked it so much. I mean, in so far as you can like a movie about racist America being racist.
This movie was ONLY about the march to Selma. And about how our government ain’t shit.

Let me show you my/MLK’s shocked face:

Huh. I guess I’m/he’s not shocked either.

BONUS: I didn’t have to listen to anybody sing “We Shall Overcome” at all. But. They said it an AWFUL LOT.
Still though. I’m calling it a ‘W’.
(QUITE POSSIBLY A SPOILER ALERT. SO SKIP THIS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW THIS. EVEN THOUGH THIS IS ALSO *HISTORY*)

The Marches from Selma to Montgomery were inspired by the death of Deacon Jimmie Lee Jackson. He was beaten and shot by Alabama State Trooper Bonard Fowler while participating in a peaceful voting rights march in his city. He was unarmed; he died several days later in the hospital.

FORTY-TWO YEARS LATER (2007) Fowler was indicted in Jackson’s death, and then in 2010 he pleaded guilty to manslaughter. he was sentenced to SIX! WHOLE! MONTHS! in prison.

LOOK AT ALL THIS JUSTICE BEING SERVED*

*still don’t have a sarcasm font
(/END)

Also: I was struck by the fact that it’s been 50 years since this March. And we’ve come SO. FAR.
I mean… now all of the pictures are in color.

ANYWAYS. That’s today’s BHFOTD/Movie Review.
Oh. Did you not look at the maybe spoiler? Which is where the fact is hidden today?

Then here’s another MLK Jr BHFOTD:
Did y’all know that in 1999 a Memphis jury found the United States government guilty of conspiring to assassinate Dr. King on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel on April 4, 1968 in a civil lawsuit?

Related quote from Dr. King: “Justice too long delayed is justice denied”

Huh.
As always, if you’re looking for more BHFOTD, you don’t have to wait on me. They’re just out there waiting. Now’s your opportunity!

I feel like it bears mentioning that some of the people I love most are in law enforcement.
They are fair, and respectful, and kind in ways that I am not.
And I think that they picked careers that are perfect for them because they want to do good.
Because they believe in service.
I personally don’t love people enough to want to deal with the fuckery that they have to.

I commend them ‘cause they are the kind of people that law enforcement should be.

I say all that to say it’s not an either/or situation.
You can support law enforcement who are decent people
and doing good things in the community,
and still be critical of the bully boys, racists, and assholes.
Some of you need to realize that.

It’s not fuck ALL the police.
It’s fuck the police who murder with impunity.
Fuck the police who hide behind their badges.
Fuck the police who think that some lives matter less than others.
And fuck the system that does not punish or police the police when they are wrong.

Being in law enforcement does not exclude you from the law.
It shouldn’t give you a “get out jail free card”
Your jobs are ones of service.
You should and NEED to be held accountable for your actions in the course of your job.
You should be disciplined for behaving badly.

And if you unable/unwilling to serve and protect your communities then you should quit.
Or be fired.

The People deserve better.
ALL of them.

(even the black ones)

And I’m not going to lie to you, I’m not feeling very Christmassy.
This Song has been stuck in my head for months.

MONTHS.

There are 43,200 minutes in a month. ISH.
30 days hath September, blah blah blah. All the rest have 31.
Except February. February fucks up everything.
That’s a loose interpretation of how the song goes. You’re welcome.

ANYWAYS.
It makes me sad.

five hundred twenty-five thousand
six hundred minutes
how do you measure- measure a year?

So many things can change in a year.
It’s not really a lot of time.
And it’s a lot of time.
Time enough to be created and born.
Time enough to die.

How about love? Measure in love

These people are mothers and fathers
Daughters and sons.
They are loved by someone.
Somebody feels blessed for having them in their lives.
They’re best friends, and husbands and wives, and cousins.

How do you measure the life of a woman or man?

Who gets to decide if I am worthy?
Will I be judged for what I’ve actually done?
Or just what I look like?

Two hundred and seventy minutes.
That’s how long they left Michael Brown lying in the street dead.

It’s time now, to sing out
Though the story never ends

Because the story never ends.
One thousand, six hundred and eighty minutes.
That’s 28 hours. For those who don’t want to do the math.
That’s how often a black person is killed by their local law enforcement.

I went to a protest in Hollywood two weeks ago.
A march.
Because the lives of my husband, children, sisters and brothers matter to me.
Their black lives matter.

There was a die-in on the corner of Hollywood and Vine.
Four minutes and 30 seconds.
For four minutes and some change I was laying on the ground.
“Dead”
While I thought about all of the black men and women who didn’t get to get up after time was up.
Dying. Or maybe dead for real.
Who didn’t go home to their families.
Who then had their characters assassinated by the media scrounging for reasons to prove their death was deserved without due process.

I’m not going to lie to you: I may have cried a little. Or maybe a lot.

Remember the Love

So I do. I try to remember the names of black lives taken too soon.
I say a prayer for families, their loved ones.

One hundred-ninety eight thousand, seven hundred and twenty minutes. And counting.
That’s 138 days for the mathematically impaired.
That’s how long these protests have been going on.
And I hope they continue. Until open season on black lives is over.

That’s how you remember the love.

Seasons of Love

(This one is a gimme, y’all)

When I was a teenager, I hated catching the bus. I mean HATED.

Couldn’t wait to drive.
And now that I drive. I wish I could catch the bus, because I hate driving.
But I also hate waiting. And strangers. And strangers that sit too close on the bus.
Or strangers that stand in front of you so that you either have to stare directly at their junk or stare off into the distance wishing that person got a charlie horse in their dangly bits.
NO. I’m not speaking from experience. Why do you ask?

Public transportation. It’s the best. And also the worst.

Speaking of the worst (of humanity, that is) on this date in 1955, was the beginning of the Montgomery Bus Boycott.
WELL. TECHNICALLY, December 2nd was the day they borned the idea to boycott, and created fliers for distribution in places that black people hung out. But that ACTUAL boycott started Today. In 1955.
It lasted 381 days.

The flier read: “Another Negro woman has been arrested and thrown in jail because she refused to get up out of her seat on the bus for a white person to sit down. It is the second time since the Claudette Colvin case that a Negro woman has been arrested for the same thing. This has to be stopped. Negroes have rights, too, for if Negroes did not ride the buses, they could not operate.”

Blah blah blah, Bus stuff…THEN goes on to say… “If we do not do something to stop these (murders of unarmed black men)arrests, they will continue. The next time it may be you, or your (son) daughter, or (husband/father) mother.”

It’s been 119 days.

Normally this is the kinda BHFOTD I’d ignore, FOR OBVIOUS REASONS.
BUT I’M PRETTY SURE YOU KNOW WHY I DIDN’T.

Love y’all!