NATION OF IMMIGRANTS, MEET LAND OF OPPORTUNITY. It is a combination that has sometimes resulted in some amazing happenings. Behold the United States of America, itself! Although to tell the true story of “America,” we’d have to talk about a whole lot of exploitation of brown people, wouldn’t we?
Browsing all posts from June, 2009.
I SAT IN ON a White House debriefing conference call on Friday, and took notes. I’ll write on that soon, and talk about my own thoughts, hopes, and fears on the issue. For now, here’s a New America Media op ed on why the time for immigration is now.
CLOSING OUT OUR WEEKEND OF TRIBUTE to Michael Jackson, here’s one of possibly the best songs about friendship, or love, or both—that exists. A lot of that is performance. It’s written for a rat, but what’s new? The footage is great, too. An old grainy version of MJ as a kid, feels like a painting in motion.
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME you saw people all over the world gathering in crowds from Pakistan to Beijing to Chile to LA to cry and light candles? When was the last time you saw crowds from Harlem to London to San Francisco spontaneously come together to dance with joy?
I KEEP TELLING MYSELF it’s over. That twisting stab of loss…that feeling that something beautiful has left forever. I repeat to myself that all energy just changes shape and trades places…that the joy and movement and sound and love and connection will live on.
THE WEINER FAMILY makes its monies from selling hate to the masses; hate pointed and aimed at immigrants, queers, Obama, liberals, and a host of others. It’s a savage and soulless way to make a living—especially when at the same time you are raking in cash from the same people you abuse thus.
Beat me, hate me
You can never break me
Will me, thrill me
You can never kill me
All I wanna say is that they don’t really care about us
MICHAEL JACKSON IS DEAD. For a second I want to talk about what he meant in my life. And how I see him. There will be plenty of time for endless conversations and accusations and equivocations and decimations of his person. I only want to mark the moment for myself.