saturday night in the suburban enclave of pinole, ca. i came to my friend D's house for her monthly family get together; an extended clan of aunts, an uncle, their partners, cousins, and their children, and friends. her mother renee a petite powerhouse woman, made a gang of food that packed the kitchen. when i arrived D came out on the porch dancing in her signature high heels and a pimpy black fedora hat. the girl's got style.
waves of relatives arrived carrying more food. appetizers were laid out to go with D's curiously strong margaritas. as night fell the music came up, with keisha's husband playing an insane mix from the 70s, 80s, some 90s and today. lemar and his wife peformed their hoodrat dance; the dude stands behind while the woman grinds on him and he smacks her booty. the family roared with laughter and cheers.
the babies and stories were passed from one relative to another. D told me this is a monthly ritual, everyone comes together at different houses, occasionally a restaurant. one gathering had a DJ, the cops were called, and ended at 4am. all the way down to earth and off the hook.
i was most enthralled with D's cousin christina, who talked fast and had the most infectious, charming laugh. just light and laughter all over her face. her mom made the most exquisite, addictive, melt in your mouth, dinner rolls i've had other than my grandmother's. at last count i had eaten six.
D's stepdad, affectionately referred to as big pimpin, held court on the front porch, discussing among other things, what makes a true pimp? obama and reflecting upon 8 years of getting bitch-slapped by the bush administration.
i had a very cool time; just good people and good energy.
memorable quotes:
'you know, brothers won't necessarily waste their time with that colonial bullshit, but that book is a trip - whoo!' keisha's husband referring to the historical novel 'the other boyelyn girl'.
'dimitrua, blame it on the rain, rain, rain!' keisha with a drink in her hand.
'enjoy yourself, eat, and bow down to a nigga that's greater than you.' big pimpin.
much laughter ensues at that point. 'that's his tag line. he loves it.' D leans over to tell me.
my thanks to d + her family for a fabulous time.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
my wall * e moment : V1N2
why not kick it at home in your jammies?!
over dinner one night with my co-instructors; katie mentioned having recently seen wall*e. her face lit up as she described how much she enjoyed it. so with a long holiday week to chill, i saw wall*e and....just like that i was 10 years old again; laughing out loud and wide-eyed with 'ooo that is so cool!'. the parable: earth having buried in rubbish, humans have retreated to space as blobs who never move (literally they hover everywhere) and food is now micro-smoothies, nothing solid. this gets a bit creepy (you know, bone loss in zero gravity). the humans all look like weebles in red suits drinking out of giant sippy cups. the robots are way cooler.
let me just put it out that pixar OWNS. no other animation studio can touch what these cats are doing; the environments, the characterizations, rendering, shading (did you know there's a whole team devoted to shading?!), sound design, music score; just exquisite on so many levels. (the pixar studio is here in the east bay and on the other side of the security gate lies the nirvana of 'coolest place on earth to work where they do amazingly cool stuff'). getting a job there, even sweeping the floors, is like winning the lottery.
adults have the same reverence for a pixar movie as do the youth. there's always some intelligence and clever wit to a pixar story even despite the DISNEY MOMENT (you know, where it gets a bit corny and sweet). every pixar movie has that...i'm convinced this is part of their partnership agreement. sweet + corny is the disney raison d'etre. if wall*e and eve were french robots - they would fight, swoon, lose one another to grave misfortune, and mope over their loss for eternity while looking really cool and mopey. americans have a hard time buying nihilism in real life, let alone a cartoon.
however, no matter how cool and sophisticated you may be: the DISNEY MOMENT will get you. it's emotional crack. bambi did it, pinocchio did it, and if dumbo didn't get you, you're definitely not human. i still smile when i see pictures of that flying baby elephant.
so, yes i smiled when wall*e and eve have their sweet DISNEY MOMENT holding hands, or eve's frantic attempt to save wall* with a new motherboard and hardware, and the corny song from hello dolly! and louis armstrong's cover of la vie en rose (i love that song!) wall*e's cute little cockroach homie, and the little surviving plant in a shoe that reminded me of charlie chaplin. it's a lovely, charming, and irresistible piece of animation art that makes you feel a bit like...the first time you went on it's a small world at disneyland. it's all about the magic.
Wall-E NYT Critic's Pick
my crunky t-day : V1N2
ah yes, the getting together of relatives to break bread and carry on. this year was a gathering at my uncle's in alameda.
my uncle lives with his girlfriend and three grandsons (the 3Ds) all under the age of 6, the children of his oldest daughter, my cousin. several years ago she ran off to arkansas after her baby's daddy; leaving with one child and returning with 3. she just had her fourth, a lovely baby girl, this last summer.
my uncle took custody of the 3 D's since my cousin has been through hard times and multiple challenges caring for the boys properly. i have to give it up to my uncle, a man of 60 and taking on 3 small children. his girlfriend is a very cool + down to earth woman, always on the move between the boys and her own extended large family (i never meet the same person twice). she and her sister punky usually do the cooking when folks get together. this year they made baked and fried turkey, prime rib, ham, cornbread stuffing, salad greens, mac + cheese, yams, collard greens, banana pudding, golden cake, and pumpkin pie.
serious business. after a single plate of what i eat, i felt the ITIS swoon. my cousin yinka and i took a walk with 2 of the D's after dinner; playing games like hoist the toddler and find the color blah blah and what would spider man do? as we circled the block.
at one point, punky was holed up in the back patio with my cousin, another young woman and her man, all ragingly tore up on the biggest bottle of vodka i've ever seen, as well as 0E8, and tall buds. the conversation between them got louder and more incomprehensible as i sat there listening.
'i smoked crack for ten years, nigga!'
'i showed dat fool how to smoke crack nigga!'
'ya'll talkin bullshit, i'm talkin real shit.'
at this point i think nigga will eventually morph into a verb. i was offered some of the nuclear vodka hooch and politely declined, 'nah, i'm cool,' is my standard refrain for you're trippin i am not drinking that.
the young woman had ruddy gang tats and a sinister gaze in her eyes. she was a roughneck. she looked at me with contempt a few times. it's not personal; it's just that street-ness of who u think u is biotch? challenge yet lacking understanding as to who i think i may be and too arrogant and insecure to open up. so roughnecks force it and fake it when confronted with a situation or person that makes them uncomfortable. when someone doesn't get you, they mean mug you, they talk shit. it's like ghetto mental judo. just look them dead in the eye. i know what's up with you, mama and you don't scare me. i just keep it cool like rasta shaolin. the ghetto mind is no match for the conscious mind. the nicest thing she said between us as she was hollerin into her cell phone at someone was, 'everyone is rockin dreads!'
'happy and nappy!' i said with a smile, but she just scowled at me and turned away. closed. hmm. and i thought no good holiday-naturedness shall pass between us hence.
back inside the apartment while we ate, punky came through from the back, 'what you mothafuckin niggas...', the room went quiet. she stopped herself, looked down and walked passed me. 'keep it cool, mama,' i whispered. 'just keep it cool.'
it was like walking into the boondocks episode, invasion of the katrinians. all that was missing was kool-aid (unless i simply overlooked that).
i much prefer punky when she's straight. she gets down too hard with the drink and that vibe can get hectic very fast with others acting foolish on the same level. my uncle takes it in stride; as long as the carrying on is done out in the back, and '...come sundown they need to get they asses on home.'
'girl, i'm just heck-a drunk,' punky said to me before we left. 'next time i'll be better.'
connie, yinka, and i came to support my uncle as his folks. we all need that; to feel we have our own on our side. oh yes, the battlefield of life, which at times may include the holidays with other people's relatives.
eat a vegan!
i've never been a fan of cornmeal stuffing (cornbread, yes! the stuffing, not so much). i wanted to make my own this year, but you know, with a different vibe on it other than stove top. so i did some research and found this little some some to work with, which includes quinoa. it's quite good, but doesn't have the flavor of old school chicken stock at the base.
my uncle lives with his girlfriend and three grandsons (the 3Ds) all under the age of 6, the children of his oldest daughter, my cousin. several years ago she ran off to arkansas after her baby's daddy; leaving with one child and returning with 3. she just had her fourth, a lovely baby girl, this last summer.
my uncle took custody of the 3 D's since my cousin has been through hard times and multiple challenges caring for the boys properly. i have to give it up to my uncle, a man of 60 and taking on 3 small children. his girlfriend is a very cool + down to earth woman, always on the move between the boys and her own extended large family (i never meet the same person twice). she and her sister punky usually do the cooking when folks get together. this year they made baked and fried turkey, prime rib, ham, cornbread stuffing, salad greens, mac + cheese, yams, collard greens, banana pudding, golden cake, and pumpkin pie.
serious business. after a single plate of what i eat, i felt the ITIS swoon. my cousin yinka and i took a walk with 2 of the D's after dinner; playing games like hoist the toddler and find the color blah blah and what would spider man do? as we circled the block.
at one point, punky was holed up in the back patio with my cousin, another young woman and her man, all ragingly tore up on the biggest bottle of vodka i've ever seen, as well as 0E8, and tall buds. the conversation between them got louder and more incomprehensible as i sat there listening.
'i smoked crack for ten years, nigga!'
'i showed dat fool how to smoke crack nigga!'
'ya'll talkin bullshit, i'm talkin real shit.'
at this point i think nigga will eventually morph into a verb. i was offered some of the nuclear vodka hooch and politely declined, 'nah, i'm cool,' is my standard refrain for you're trippin i am not drinking that.
the young woman had ruddy gang tats and a sinister gaze in her eyes. she was a roughneck. she looked at me with contempt a few times. it's not personal; it's just that street-ness of who u think u is biotch? challenge yet lacking understanding as to who i think i may be and too arrogant and insecure to open up. so roughnecks force it and fake it when confronted with a situation or person that makes them uncomfortable. when someone doesn't get you, they mean mug you, they talk shit. it's like ghetto mental judo. just look them dead in the eye. i know what's up with you, mama and you don't scare me. i just keep it cool like rasta shaolin. the ghetto mind is no match for the conscious mind. the nicest thing she said between us as she was hollerin into her cell phone at someone was, 'everyone is rockin dreads!'
'happy and nappy!' i said with a smile, but she just scowled at me and turned away. closed. hmm. and i thought no good holiday-naturedness shall pass between us hence.
back inside the apartment while we ate, punky came through from the back, 'what you mothafuckin niggas...', the room went quiet. she stopped herself, looked down and walked passed me. 'keep it cool, mama,' i whispered. 'just keep it cool.'
it was like walking into the boondocks episode, invasion of the katrinians. all that was missing was kool-aid (unless i simply overlooked that).
i much prefer punky when she's straight. she gets down too hard with the drink and that vibe can get hectic very fast with others acting foolish on the same level. my uncle takes it in stride; as long as the carrying on is done out in the back, and '...come sundown they need to get they asses on home.'
'girl, i'm just heck-a drunk,' punky said to me before we left. 'next time i'll be better.'
connie, yinka, and i came to support my uncle as his folks. we all need that; to feel we have our own on our side. oh yes, the battlefield of life, which at times may include the holidays with other people's relatives.
eat a vegan!
i've never been a fan of cornmeal stuffing (cornbread, yes! the stuffing, not so much). i wanted to make my own this year, but you know, with a different vibe on it other than stove top. so i did some research and found this little some some to work with, which includes quinoa. it's quite good, but doesn't have the flavor of old school chicken stock at the base.
herbed stuffing
- 5 cups stale bread cubes
- 1-2 cup cooked rice (or other grain such as quinoa)
- 1 cup onion, minced
- 2 cups celery, finely chopped
- 1 1/2 teaspoons fresh thyme, chopped
- 1 teaspoon fresh sage, chopped
- 1 teaspoon fresh rosemary, chopped
- 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
- 1/4 cup olive oil
- 1 cup vegetable broth
- salt (depending on salt content of broth or to taste depending on salt content broth)
tip! :
if you want a drier stuffing, use the 1c broth. if you want it more moist, try 2 - 6c
as is your preference.
experiment! i added some crushed bay leaf to the herbs, garlic to the celery + onion mix.
directions
1. preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
2. in a large bowl, combine bread and cooked grains.
3. sauté onions in a little water for about 5 minutes, then add celery and cook until soft.
4. mix oil and vegetable broth, then pour over stuffing mixture.
5. add salt to taste.
6. cook, covered, for about 25 minutes, then uncovered until top is slightly browned and crispy.
you can also simmer on a stove top as well (use a big pasta pot!)
props to: recipe zaar
Monday, November 24, 2008
the temple of the dragon : V1N2
bruce lee on
jeet kune do (way of intercepting fist)
I have not invented a "new style," composite, modified or otherwise that is set within distinct form as apart from "this" method or "that" method. On the contrary, I hope to free my followers from clinging to styles, patterns, or molds. Remember that Jeet Kune Do is merely a name used, a mirror in which to see "ourselves". . . Jeet Kune Do is not an organized institution that one can be a member of. Either you understand or you don't, and that is that. There is no mystery about my style. My movements are simple, direct and non-classical. The extraordinary part of it lies in its simplicity. Every movement in Jeet Kune-Do is being so of itself. There is nothing artificial about it. I always believe that the easy way is the right way. Jeet Kune-Do is simply the direct expression of one's feelings with the minimum of movements and energy. The closer to the true way of Kung Fu, the less wastage of expression there is.
Finally, a Jeet Kune Do man who says Jeet Kune Do is exclusively Jeet Kune Do is simply not with it. He is still hung up on his self-closing resistance, in this case anchored down to reactionary pattern, and naturally is still bound by another modified pattern and can move within its limits. He has not digested the simple fact that truth exists outside all molds; pattern and awareness is never exclusive.
Again let me remind you Jeet Kune Do is just a name used, a boat to get one across, and once across it is to be discarded and not to be carried on one's back.
the water
this jewel of wisdom struck me as a fundamental principle that can be applied to human interaction; to eliminate disharmony, avoid conflict, and achieve better understanding (with others as well as yourself).
Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.
Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend.
flow!!Don't think. FEEL. It is like a finger pointing away to the moon. Do not concentrate on the finger or you will miss all that heavenly glory.
bruce lee
enter the dragon
Sunday, November 23, 2008
my local superstar: ZAKI KEBOB : V1N1
there's a new kabob in town and it's the bomb! what was a senegalese spot that was always closed, then briefly a club, which got shut down is now Zaki Kabob House. the cafe is owned by Faiza, a Jordanian woman with the most gorgeous eyes and sweet disposition. Her two eldest daughters help out, while her 4-year old son amir and i sit and chat. Faiza runs the place on the principle of freshness. While your order is being made (15 - 20 minutes), you can have a cup of tea, fresh madjool dates, or rich turkish coffee (very strong, mixed with a bit of sugar and cardamon). The food is exquisite- vegan mediterranean plates, babganoush with chunks of eggplant, golden warm falafel, syrian salad, combination shwarma and kebob plates, amazing marinated and charboiled chicken, even a special halal menu.
salaam!
zaki kebob house
san pablo @ dartmouth st. NW berkeley
(510) 527-5452
h: 12n - 9pm daily
salaam!
zaki kebob house
san pablo @ dartmouth st. NW berkeley
(510) 527-5452
h: 12n - 9pm daily
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The Nation (El Nacion) V1N1
www.lospatojos.org
Our Biracial President
autumn fresh scent : V1N1
welcome to the premier afropunk chronic blog! this is a spot to meditate, observe, laugh, reflect, and rejoice in all things beautifully human (thought, spirit, intellect, energy, art, and creativity). The vibe here is all the way live + full up! Only good root vibe tea are served here, no salacious hater-ade. We strive for the righteous concept of co-operation, not competition! You are the light so bask in it!
also let me preface that i am aware of afropunk the documentary, the festival, and the community. i'm a part of it and i'm a member. first of all, i'm old school so i call dibs! i've been using afropunk in my art and name since 1975. okay, seriously, all can share and the community is huge; i'm just a humble, broke-ass artist who's a part of it. open + source!
I may at times for the sake of artistic expression use arcane and / or profane language relevant to my cultural background (with the exception of 'late' which simply can not get with). Please keep an open mind and if you're not feeling it - i respect that. I find inspiration everywhere; hip hop, punk rock, poets + prophets, martial artists, revolutionaries, painters, friends, relatives, scientists, folks from the age of enlightenment + reason, proverbs from the ancestors, rasta wisdim, women's wisdom, drag queen wisdom, MGM musicals, the YOUTH, the truth, the Economist, the Agronomist, the NYT, BDP, the BBC, the Get Fresh Crew, Black Uhuru, Peter Tosh, Toots & the Maytals, Siddhartha, Assata, Tupac, Kung Fu Panda, Voltaire, Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, Dalai Lama, Chaka Khan, Truman Capote, Obi Wan Kenobi....or some variation thereof.
i also dedicate V1N1 to Miriam Makeba.
- mslisa
And so let's get down!
I’m currently reading Getting Mother's Body by Suzan Lori-Parks. Blazing! I love this novel and the language is wonderful; you feel present in 1963 Texas caught up in the dusty plains trials and tribulations of the young (and very pregnant) Billy Beede. I imagine Terrance Howard as her silver-tounged baby daddy, Mr. Snipes.
I just had a great personal moment. On the train going to work I realized how special I am. I said to myself, "why am I dealing with these knucklehead men...why am I dealing with this foolishness. I don't have to . I took a deep breath and deleted brown-eye John's number. No more excuses, no more trying to legitimize his odd behavior. I'm done with it and I'm over it. I should probably give the people reading this little story a synopsis into my dating world. I was a virgin until I was 25 years old. Up until that moment I'd never had a boyfriend or even dated. My only glimpse into the world of dating was movies. You know what I'm talking about; movies that are super romantic, unrealistic and filled with awesomely mature, dedicated, patient and sweet men. Men who always seem to be great-looking even in a non-traditional or odd way.
When I started dating I assumed the process would be kisses, roses, fun and my phone calls being returned. It hasn't been like that. Please don't think I am bashing men because this isn't that type of piece. This is about when that moment of realization occurs; when you become aware of what you deserve from a partner. This feeling brings me great comfort. When I got to work this morning, a work mate told me that I had a glow on my face. He wanted to know who I was going on a date with. I laughed and thought to myself, ‘I’m glowing because I don't have a date tonight, tomorrow, or in the immediate future and I'm ok with it.’
Remember.....Don't Put Up With Foolishness!
Love
Miss. Jackson
ROOTS*ROCK*REGGAE* HIP HOP *DANCEHALL*JAZZ * AMBIENT * BLUEGRASS* SALSA * SAMBA
This is a very cool documentary, part of Scorsese's series The Blues, where it all began! The film focuses on Blind Willie Johnson, Skip James, and J.B. Lenoir.
also let me preface that i am aware of afropunk the documentary, the festival, and the community. i'm a part of it and i'm a member. first of all, i'm old school so i call dibs! i've been using afropunk in my art and name since 1975. okay, seriously, all can share and the community is huge; i'm just a humble, broke-ass artist who's a part of it. open + source!
I may at times for the sake of artistic expression use arcane and / or profane language relevant to my cultural background (with the exception of 'late' which simply can not get with). Please keep an open mind and if you're not feeling it - i respect that. I find inspiration everywhere; hip hop, punk rock, poets + prophets, martial artists, revolutionaries, painters, friends, relatives, scientists, folks from the age of enlightenment + reason, proverbs from the ancestors, rasta wisdim, women's wisdom, drag queen wisdom, MGM musicals, the YOUTH, the truth, the Economist, the Agronomist, the NYT, BDP, the BBC, the Get Fresh Crew, Black Uhuru, Peter Tosh, Toots & the Maytals, Siddhartha, Assata, Tupac, Kung Fu Panda, Voltaire, Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, Dalai Lama, Chaka Khan, Truman Capote, Obi Wan Kenobi....or some variation thereof.
i also dedicate V1N1 to Miriam Makeba.
- mslisa
And so let's get down!
I’m currently reading Getting Mother's Body by Suzan Lori-Parks. Blazing! I love this novel and the language is wonderful; you feel present in 1963 Texas caught up in the dusty plains trials and tribulations of the young (and very pregnant) Billy Beede. I imagine Terrance Howard as her silver-tounged baby daddy, Mr. Snipes.
We give thanks for this contribution from Miss Jackson
MOMENT
I just had a great personal moment. On the train going to work I realized how special I am. I said to myself, "why am I dealing with these knucklehead men...why am I dealing with this foolishness. I don't have to . I took a deep breath and deleted brown-eye John's number. No more excuses, no more trying to legitimize his odd behavior. I'm done with it and I'm over it. I should probably give the people reading this little story a synopsis into my dating world. I was a virgin until I was 25 years old. Up until that moment I'd never had a boyfriend or even dated. My only glimpse into the world of dating was movies. You know what I'm talking about; movies that are super romantic, unrealistic and filled with awesomely mature, dedicated, patient and sweet men. Men who always seem to be great-looking even in a non-traditional or odd way.
When I started dating I assumed the process would be kisses, roses, fun and my phone calls being returned. It hasn't been like that. Please don't think I am bashing men because this isn't that type of piece. This is about when that moment of realization occurs; when you become aware of what you deserve from a partner. This feeling brings me great comfort. When I got to work this morning, a work mate told me that I had a glow on my face. He wanted to know who I was going on a date with. I laughed and thought to myself, ‘I’m glowing because I don't have a date tonight, tomorrow, or in the immediate future and I'm ok with it.’
Remember.....Don't Put Up With Foolishness!
Love
Miss. Jackson
A hype DJ remix compilation of various tuff gong classics!
Magnifico!
Alex Cortiz
Cortiz is a lounge DJ from the Netherlands. It's very chill background music; like having a cocktail by sunset on the bay.
Alex Cortiz
Cortiz is a lounge DJ from the Netherlands. It's very chill background music; like having a cocktail by sunset on the bay.
LEGACY!
This is a very cool documentary, part of Scorsese's series The Blues, where it all began! The film focuses on Blind Willie Johnson, Skip James, and J.B. Lenoir.
Around the Way
The Glorious + Victorious!
Quote of the Day
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