The FDA is responsible for protecting the public health by assuring the safety, efficacy, and security of human and veterinary drugs, biological products, medical devices, our nation’s food supply, cosmetics, and products that emit radiation. The FDA is also responsible for advancing the public health by helping to speed innovations that make medicines and foods more effective, safer, and more affordable; and helping the public get the accurate, science-based information they need to use medicines and foods to improve their health. -Food and Drug Administration

With the latest food recall still underway, one could make the argument that members of the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) don’t actually eat food, at least not the the same things they are allowing to make it to our plates. Or perhaps the FDA only employs individuals with private gardens and free roaming chickens in their own spacial backyards. If so, the rampant oversight and lack of quality assurance makes more sense. Not saying it is right, but it would be easier to digest it all. Pun intended. Instead, there are few guidelines and regulations, and as a result even fewer plans in place to deal with public panic and illness once bad apples actually make their way into the bunch. Occasionally, regulatory laws are put forth, but companies often find the time and cost to implement them too high and the penalty too low, making it more economical to do the wrong thing. British Petroleum (BP), anyone?

According to NPR, the Clinton administration passed the necessary legislation over ten years ago and it made it through his second term, both Bush terms, and one year into the Obama administration before going into effect. Basically, The Egg Rule, a law proposed in December of 1999 and meant to enforce stricter oversight of egg producers and eliminate salmonella went into five months shy of its 11 year anniversary, only moments before 500 million eggs were recalled for suspected contamination. Now in 2010, the year President Clinton predicted salmonella contamination of eggs would be eliminated, it is estimated that over 2,000 people have been sickened.

While it is problematic offer food created under less than safe conditions to everyone, it is just as problematic to provide consumers with the illusion of healthier choices. Those few who can actually afford the more ethically-raised options are often met with misleading language and even less regulation. Take for instance the New York Times piece that demystifies the difference between caged and free-roaming chickens and ultimately reveals (as Michael Pollan did a while back) that there is little difference and even less interest on the part of regulators to set more strict rules. At least in fast food you have some knowledge of the health cost of your meal and have an opportunity to choose something seemingly healthier. In the egg world, there is really little information to back up the labels. It seems, the FDA’s desire to create “safer” foods has taken a back seat to its desire to create more abundant food sources.

Oddly enough the poor food and work conditions that give rise to outbreaks and subsequent recalls often prove counterproductive to the government’s attempt to expand health care, enact immigration policy, and create jobs. It would seem that proper oversight would save millions of dollars in health care costs, provide greater working conditions for blue collar and undocumented workers, and create more jobs from engineering to food gathering. The uptick in allergies, underpaid labor, and unemployment is directly related to our thirst for upfront profit as opposed to slower, more deliberate and sustainable projects. More importantly, our desire for the quick fix stifles creativity and leaves us wondering what went wrong when major systems in our nation fail. Take Detroit automakers for instance. The food industry is no safer.

This segment from Food Inc. documentary links larger societal issues to the food industry. This clip specifically talks about illegal immigration, jobs, and food regulation.

First, Rick Ross is making a fool out of us! Anyone that listens to his music is an informant and I don’t want to hear any opinions to the contrary.

Rap music has somewhat been a representative confrontation between rappers (and the community they represent) and law and order. Whose side is Rick Ross on here? How can you be anti-establishment, selling coke, whipping work but then admit to being a correctional officer? Is his music actually satire? Or is he just another example of how hip-hop has fallen from the realm of expressivity to fairy tales? I just don’t get it. I know I’m tired of these characters the music industry is manufacturing. But I guess since y’all keep listening he’ll keep posturing.

Second, NFL season is gearing up and I could not be more excited. Brett Favre is being greased up like the Tin Man. Cowboys fans hate Donovan McNabb times a million now that he’s playing for that team in DC. No analysts are picking the Patriots to win more than 10 games, which means they will probably win the Super Bowl. And last but not least, the Cincinnati Bengals roster looks like VH1s weekend lineup.

I will say this; I’m not completely against Terrell Owens and OchoCinco playing together. I wonder how many games they will play on VH1. But I also believe that Terrell Owens knows that it’s time to put up AND shut up. If he manages decent numbers and a deep run into the playoffs, the Hall of Fame is within reach. If he allows the inevitable maelstrom of negative press he will receive to throw him off of his game, he will forever be known as a team cancer. Sure, he’s getting up there in age but I’m sure he still has a couple seasons left in his legs. It could be worse.

He could be getting injected with KY.

It’s a problem that we still allow ignorance to turn cultures into threats and let fear change constitutional rights into a compromise of sanctity or national security. It is moments like this that I am most disappointed to be human, to be American, the moments when people choose to not allow others to live freely.

This past weekend I got the opportunity to meet a guy named Eboo Patel. He is the executive director of an organization called Interfaith Youth Core (IYC) and also a Rhodes Scholar who studied sociology and divinity at Oxford. Needless to say I was looking forward to hearing his speech at Loyola University this past Friday night.

He spoke both firmly and eloquently as he went through the history of bridges built on interfaith foundations. He spoke about how the very inception of Islam is rooted in a relationship that was Muslim-Christian based. He spoke about how people like Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi both go down in history as human rights leaders, but Eboo also encouraged us to look at them as religious and interfaith leaders.

His whole speech fell in the shadows of the recent New York controversies revolving around the new Islamic center (notice I didn’t say mosque) that is being  built near the world trade center site.

I will just quickly put my statement in about this issue (I promise I will not retract this tomorrow, like Obama did). I just have a few questions that I would love for anyone to answer: when exactly did all Muslims become terrorists? When did we get to a place where politicians were comfortable enough to get on national television and compare a WHOLE religion to Nazism. When did the first amendment become null and void? When did the free practice of religion become conditional? It amazes me to see how history repeats itself so often. A half century ago people were saying its ok to put Japanese Americans in internship camps, as the American government took people from their homes, stripping them of their lives, for no other reason than those Japanese Americans having some racial and cultural connections with the Japanese we fought against in WW2. Go even further back and you will see people justifying the Trail of Tears that Native Americans had to suffer though, as people rationalized the marginalization of a whole group of people by dehumanizing a culture, and taking advantage of propaganda that transformed human beings into salvages.

Eboo Patel’s strongest point was the need for us to redefine the “them” and the “us.” We have to reframe the extremist dialogue, the same dialogue that puts Christians against Muslims and Hindus against Jews. This is the same dialogue that encourages discrimination, fear, and exclusivity. This is the same dialogue that doesn’t want to see an inclusive shared society where people live and work together. These are the same forces that keep cities segregated, counties culturally separate, and the act of “understanding” foreign.

Eboo Patel touched me, I encourage anyone to go see him (either in person or on youtube) his words are exactly what out country needs to hear. Words that encourage people to come together and redefine the “us” and “them.” The “Us” is all those who want to see an equal, free, and inclusive society the pushes towards pluralism. The “them” is all of those who fight for the extremist cause that wish to marginalize and exclude anyone who is different. It is my prayer that we all begin to redefine the “us” and “them.”

As September begins, we return to school and work, or continue because we never left. The vacations we took turn into more and more distant memories. The end of summer is one ending that is just about always imperfect. It fails to be either cinematic or dramatic. I seem to let it pass without acknowledging it as a transition or taking time to reflect on the summer season. I fall back into a routine. And although I’m bound to hear “How was your summer?” at least a hundred times, I’ll only sometimes give a brief update and hardly ever a proper answer. I don’t quite know if this is because people are too busy, not looking for a long answer or because I like to keep summer holiday as something very separate and distinguished from the rest of the year.

However, when I do look at the past couple months, I have traveled and changed and experienced quite a lot. As much as I like to think of the experiences I’ve had during my summer break as a part of an oasis away from reality, reflecting back, I realize that my time on this ‘oasis’ however brief it may have felt, its a part of me. So hopefully I’m not the only one who got some reflection time, not only the one whose summer changed them. What I’m trying to say here is that we shouldn’t let this transition go unnoticed and everyone should take note of all those little changes.

A few months ago I wrote a post about my disillusionment with hip-hop. I was desperately hoping that my love, which was on life support at the time, could be revived. As hip-hop lay dying on the operating table I prayed that Dr. Q-Tip and A Tribe Called Quest could resuscitate my loved one. As I watched her lay in a feeble position I wondered if putting her in the 36^th chamber with Wu-Tang Clan could liven her up. But I thought ODB might scare her and give her a heart attack. She needed something softer and more melodic, because the current state of music was killing her softly. Then I realized that L-Boogie aka Lauryn Hill could teach her about the Miseducation of the rap game, and why she is an not an ex-factor, but the x factor. Unfortunately, Ms. Lauryn Hill was missing that thing (flow, harmony, delivery, and coherence).

This past weekend I attended the Rock the Bells concert in Washington D.C. Since 2004 Rock The Bells concert series have been exciting audiences all over  the country with the prospects of seeing hip-hop’s classic artist all rip the same stage. Other than an old Rap City episode it is rare to find KRS One, Rakim, Slick Rick, A Tribe Called Quest, Wu-Tang Clan, Lauryn Hill, and Snoop Dogg all rocking the same venue. Although my ticket was paid in full I felt like I needed electric relaxation to kick it because the concert was everything but a g thing.

A Tribe Called Quest brought it back to the days of backpacks and high-top fades with their funny, yet rhythmically funky lyrics. When Bonita Applebum dropped the crowd went wild. Black, White, and all in between were bobbing their heads to the classic Midnight Marauders album. Q-Tip was so dedicated to his audience that he took his baggy pants off, (which were falling down) and just performed in his boxers and undershirt. Indspectah deck of the Wu Tang Clan even performed after having lost his mother just a few hours before the performance. Wu Tang also murdered the stage. When C.R.E.A.M. came on you would have thought people were worshipping U.S. currency. As Method Man, The RZA, The GZA, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, U-God, Masta Killa, Raekwon, & Boy Jones (ODB’s son) went on their vocal rants, the crowd got hype. During ODB’s tribute, Boy Jones (who is a spitting image of his father) killed the Shimmy Shimmy Ya song. At times I wondered if ODB had even passed a way at all. His son had his voice, stlye and crazy antics down to a tee.

Unfortunately, even Wu-Tang and A Tribe Called Quest’s performance couldn’t save the day. Truth be told, I was really there to see the multi-dimensional, multi-talented Lauryn Hill. However, Lauryn Hill let me down more then Glenn Beck at an NAACP convention. In fact, Lauryn Hill’s performance was so awful and confusing that I felt miseducated. Her band was off beat and the accompaniment was not all that. At times she seemed lost and disturbed. Her vocals were shot. Although I could faintly recognize the sultry emcee from the Fugees, her band arranged all of her most popular songs in an unrecognizable way. I felt like I was listening to Lil’ Wayne’s Rebirth album. Yes, it was that bad. But don’t take my word for it. Here’s what the Baltimore Sun had to say:

To her credit, Hill came out ripping, which she does extremely well. (Hill is considered one of the greatest female emcees of all time. And for good reason. He delivery, speed, and lyrics have always struck a chord with fans.) Her singing — on the other hand-- wasn’t striking anything. Her voice was noticeably horse. Her band drowned her out in a number of spots during her brief stage time. Her background singers didn’t do anything noteworthy. The arrangement of her music made many of her songs unrecognizable, and there were feedback issues to boot.

The Doggfather himself closed out the show. Although I’m generally cool with Snoop Dogg, his women dissing rhymes didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the show. Also, his all blue bandana jump suit would even make some Crips embarrassed to claim him. His cool laid back presence definitely brought a different edge to the concert; I just don’t think the uber-misogynistic album Doggystyle was the right way to go. If Rock the Bells can’t save hip-hop who can?

Now, this little boy couldn’t have been more than three.  There’s no way that he could remember Michael the way that you and I remember Michael. Yet he shared such a pure enthusiasm for the MJJ, such a love that I couldn’t do anything but smile at him and think about the ways that Michael continues to live and touch lives.  Little boys rocking out at the sight of Michael Jackson on a magazine cover is exactly what legends are made of. 

I’m not sure why, but U.S. holidays don’t particularly care for the month of August.  Maybe the holiday gods think back to school shopping and Labor Day sales will tide the American public over until it’s time to buy afro wigs for Halloween costume parties.  I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I ain’t with it.  August needs a holiday, a three-day weekend we can all support.  Which is why I’m suggesting that we honor the life of Michael Joseph Jackson by making the last Monday in August a federal holiday.    He’s done a lot for us, for the world.  The fact that “Billie Jean” still bangs, that his jheri curl mullet (still?)  looked really good make MJJ worthy of a holiday.  Those facts combined with his philanthropic endeavors should make him a shoo-in for federal acknowledgment.  Lesser men have been honored with parades.  (Seriously, America, Columbus Day?  That’s just a incredibly arrogant way of dissing indigenous people and saying to the rest of the world, “Dude, we may not be a legitimate country, but we’re going to throw a party, anyway.”)
Yesterday was Michael Jackson’s birthday.  Many of us moonwalked our way into insobriety as we honored the gloved one all night at the club.  Others changed their Facebook profile photos to dancing Michael or Michael in a tux and afro or Michael in a fedora.  Many of us tweeted at least one shout out to the GREATEST ENTERTAINER OF ALL TIME on his birthday in some internet version of pouring out libations.  Still, I think there’s more we can do, more that Michael deserves.  Michael doesn’t need another mixtape; he’s needs a Monday off--which he can accomplish vicariously through us.

It’s prime time for another black person to have a holiday.  Instead of waiting for Barack Obama Day or for his face to appear on some money, I urge anyone reading this to contact their local Congressperson or whomever it is that helps federal holidays become federal holidays in an effort to commence the MJJ Day movement.  I’m sure there’s a wiki article about this floating around somewhere on the internet about how, exactly, to do this.  (Un)fortunately, my recently amplified nihilism precludes me from contacting the government about anything, otherwise it might appear as if I believe something other than nothing has meaning.  I’ve no idea how well my crusade to increase The Lovers and Friends Show following is going, but I hope this latest effort trumps that one.

In the meantime, I suggest the we continue informally celebrating Michael’s life until the government gets its act together and responds to the letter writing campaign that will undoubtedly commence after enough people read this blog.  Be sure to mention a day of service; BHO loves days of service.  We’ve already got the party part down, here are some other suggestions:

• Brush and gel down your baby hair.

• Try to toss a coin into a jukebox from fifty feet away.

• Put tape around a few of your fingertips.  I used to do this as a kid.  It’s so much fun.

• Everybody loves pink and red ribbons.  Screw that.  Honor Michael by pinning a little white glittery glove to your lapel.

• Tar and feather Joe Jackson.

• Add a “Shamone” to your statements.  For example, when asking your boss for a raise, say something like, “I’ve saved this company $2 million in the last two quarters alone.  I deserve a 4% raise.  Shamone!”

• Jazz it up on casual Fridays: wear some white socks with black dress shoes, preferably penny loafers.

• Two words: FLASH MOB!

• After your workout, you know when you’re all sweaty and gross looking, scream “Michael!” at the top of your lungs and pass out.

• Petition the city to get the sidewalks to light up when people step on them.  If they can turn the Chicago River green for St. Patrick’s Day, I know they can do some concrete magic once a year.  Can you imagine how awesome you’d feel about yourself if the sidewalk glowed as you walked on it?  Mental health benefits!

• Try to moonwalk.  Here’s a hint: don’t practice on carpet.

• Pick an MJJ song at random.  Then, try to decipher ALL of the lyrics without the help of Google.

• Watch this.  The greatest music video of all time:

One of the bigger news stories this week (in the music world, at least) has been the use of Auto-tune during boring, contrived, glorified talent shows on television. British television sensation X-Factor has been feeling the heat after it was revealed that they’d utilized Auto-tune for the final version of the broadcast of their season premiere, and most likely many of their previous episodes as well.  They’ve apologized profusely, but the story isn’t going away. American Idol has even been forced to release a statement of their own, distancing themselves from the controversy by making it “clear” that they have never and will never use Auto-tune for their broadcasts.

Honestly I don’t like or watch any of these shows, so I love it when this kind of shit happens. But, I also don’t understand how anyone can watch such highly-produced, big budget franchise programming and not assume that there is some trickery at play behind the seasons. This is capitalism people. You want epic, flawless performances from unprofessional vocalists, and that’s exactly what X-Factor, Britain’s Got Talent, and American Idol gives you. “Reality” be damned.

“Reality” television is probably the biggest and most blatant misnomer in popular culture today. Maybe some of us aren’t aware of this yet, but Keeping up with the Kardashians is not real. The Bad Girls Club, as gloriously entertaining as it might be, is not real. These shows are maybe more “real” than a scripted show like True Blood, for example, but their non-stop, unrelentingly dramatic nature leaves little doubt that everything from extreme tactics, like literally writing storylines, to more discrete ones, like clever editing, are being employed in the production of these shows. Real life just does not play out as absurdly and timely as it does in the Bad Girls Club house.

Why should we assume X-Factor to be any different? You’re kidding yourself if you think these talent shows are about showcasing young talent, and giving up-and-comers a chance to achieve their dreams. That’s just a byproduct of all of the millions and millions of dollars these shows make off of people like you buying into that very concept. I don’t care how many dreams American Idol has made a reality; if this next season of the show bombs, and the money well starts drying up, FOX is cancelling that shit. Reality be damned.

You can call me cynical if you want (cause you’ll probably be right), but none of this should surprise anyone. Britney Spears has sold millions of records worldwide. She’s an icon and a bonafide living legend, and she probably hasn’t sung live in over ten years. Our culture should be used to fake reality by now. If you want the real and authentic experience of watching an amateur vocalist showcasing their skills before a live audience, then find one of the many open mic nights happening every night in whatever city you live in and actually be in the audience.

Otherwise, you’ll just have to settle for whatever Simon Cowell has to offer you.

So, I am a True Blood fan. However, I am tired of seeing the only black female character, Tara, get pulled through the proverbial ringer on every episode beginning with Season One and ending with Season Three. Is it too much to ask that Tara get a break? I mean, Sookie, the white female lead, is always in danger, but, yet, she has moments of peace, love, “mutual” intimacy with Bill, and now she’s a Fairy with unlimited supernatural powers. Gosh, it’s great being a white woman.However, Tara has been raped by a Vampire—Franklin, beaten senselessly by various entities, in love with a devil-possessed black man, spooked by her mother’s alcoholism and demons, under constant suicide watch, and she ain’t no fairy . . . she got no supernatural powers. It sucks to be a black woman sometimes because even on TV black women get no break.

The writers of the show could give Tara supernatural powers to protect her from nonstop hurt, but they like so many people on YouTube enjoy watching and consuming black female misery and trouble. It is amazing how the Bed Intruder Song continues to be popularized on the internet all because Kelly Dodson, a young black woman, was almost raped by a man who climbed into her window as she slept. Once again, we enjoy consuming black female misery. You see, there is something culturally “yummy” about seeing black women especially darker skin black women fail . . . seeing them always in a state of peril . . . seeing them raped, beaten, and killed . . . seeing them on the brink of suicide . . . seeing them hurt beyond repair.

We as a culture savor black female misery as if it was an exotic Third World delicacy . . . kind of like purchasing babies of color from the Global South. We enjoy eating black female pain.

Just look at the critically acclaimed movie, Precious. At each moment of the movie, the lead character, Precious, is faced with nonstop misery—my mother beats me, my mother sexually hurts me, we are poor, I have AIDS—it’s too much. And please, do not get me started on the depressive black female characterizations of Tyler Perry’s movies. In addition to TV series, YouTube sensations, and movies, we get something from watching black female celebrities spiral downward. I am talking both about Maia Campbell and presently Fantasia Barrino.  How many of us tuned in to watch VH1’s Behind the Music to see them yet again show how emotionally damaged Fantasia is. Honestly, I could not watch it because it was too much. Fantasia has been called everything under the sun from Home wrecker to Sweaty Ass Home wrecker by the online media. It’s too much . . . let her rest. As a side note, it’s funny how Alicia Keys did the same thing plus getting pregnant, but, yet, she seems to have not received the villainy that Fantasia is experiencing . . . colorism is real.

Many years ago, Ntozake Shange wrote, “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf.” It is a powerful play that tells the story of black women—our struggles, joys, and pains. It tells the story of sisters doing the work of healing. It is about black women finding God within and loving her fiercely. And this is what I want for Tara of True Blood, for Kelly Dodson, and for Fantasia. Overall, I just need for them to get a break. They all deserve peace, happiness, safety, and mutual love.

We all know too well the easiest way to get on television is to either have something tragic happen or to be tragic.  It is clear in almost every reality show on television from The Real Housewives Series to The Bad Girls Club to Jersey Shore that we as a world are desperate for three things more than most; for people to either fear us, feel sorry for us, or to laugh at us.  And perhaps now that we have the technology available to share our every waking emotion, we’ve lost some of the things that were once cherished, like secrecy.  Unfortunately, it seems all of tv world is suffering from a serious case of Munchausen’s Syndrome.

Recently, there have been numerous posts about Antoine and Kelly Dodson and how they fought off a rapist.  The news story, taking place in Hunstville, Alabama has resulted in numerous viral videos of remixed songs mocking Antoine’s gay patois and featuring his family members stomping about seemingly outraged at the occurrence.  Of course there are many political underpinnings.  How safe is communal housing?  How “typical” is it for poor women to be sexually assaulted?  Do poor black people even expect cops to intervene?  Should certain kinds of people be allowed on television?  I get it.  This video points to so many issues but it also points to the problem we face as a world hyper-exposed to reality tv drama, where trauma and bad behavior are commonplace.  We have become desensitized to suffering.  At the very least, we have developed a more rigid expectation of what “real” pain should look like.Those of us who are able to look beyond the “Bed Intruder Song” and our own internalized homophobia continue to ask the important questions about Kelly and Antoine.  Are they receiving trauma counseling?  Is there increased police patrol?  Has this happened to anyone else in the community?  And while these questions should continue to be asked, I can’t help but wonder if the seriousness of the event may have been lost in the various new posts of Antoine and Kelli Dodson seemingly celebrating their newfound fame.  It appears they are “reliving” the trauma for the cameras, new outfits, new nails, and highlights to boot.

Unfortunately, in many places it is commonplace for women to be raped and assaulted and for even the women themselves to not have any idea they have undergone something terribly inhumane, but I can’t help but think Kelly and Antoine are reaching for 15 minutes on this one.  With all the high reality show ratings, facebook posts, tweets, and random viral videos of people falling and fighting, it is clear the audience has some responsibility but does the victim have any?

When speakers of one dialect can no longer understand the speakers of another dialect, these dialects have effectively become different languages. And since dialects are born through social and or geographical isolation is the DEA saying that Black America has been disconnected from mainstream America for so long that we are speaking a different language and mostly unintelligible language now?

This isn’t the first time that this search for a middle ground between African American Vernacular English and Standard English came about. In 1996 the Oakland School Board came under fire for a resolution that stated that Ebonics speakers would participate in a sort of modified English as a second language curriculum. Teachers who were proficient in both Ebonics and Standard English would receive increased salaries.

This resolution was met with a ton of backlash. The Oakland School Board resolution identified Ebonics as an English dialect with West African influence. In fact, that is how Ebonics was originally defined and what makes it different from Southern American dialects. Structurally, it is West African in origin but the vocabulary is English based. Is there anything wrong with this?

No. Other immigrant groups retain aspects of their native languages. Why should Black Americans be any different? And the children of these immigrant groups receive specialized education that teaches them Standard English in relation to their native language. Why shouldn’t Black kids? If we truly believe that standardized tests are culturally biased then we should try to level that playing field as much as possible. Imagine growing up in a household where your parents spoke Spanish exclusively and then being thrust into a classroom where you were expected to use a different language with little to no instruction. While not as extreme, this is what some students face every day. Their teachers use English in a way that they may not be familiar with the language.

The first step is to recognize that African American Vernacular English is not indicative of laziness or ignorance. Hello. For a long time we were segregated from American society through slavery and segregation. It stands to reason that we would develop a unique way of communicating amongst ourselves. Just as any isolated population would.

There are those that would argue that use of Ebonics decreases as socioeconomic status increases. Perhaps. But that still doesn’t mean that use of Ebonics is a mark of ignorance or laziness. Pockets of poor people develop and yes, Ebonics may be more prevalent in those places but that’s just because those populations are still somewhat isolated from American society. Just because we find ourselves clumsily integrated into American society now doesn’t mean that our unique speech is wrong. Maybe we should accept it and say yes, maybe our children need lessons in code-switching. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.