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Written by Senea Moody
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Whitney Houston in my humble opinion; like a lot of superstars was a product of a corrupt entertainment industry that pawns off their entertainers to the world. It’s designed for them to have massive success, be pressured to fulfill unrealistic expectations at times, and then the final nail in the coffin: the downfall that consists of erratic behaviors and drug abuse. I refuse to believe Whitney Houston became strung out on recreational drugs because of her marriage to Bobby Brown. I also believe there is a reason as to why she was allegedly addicted to prescription drugs. Success and love don’t make people become addicts, destroy lives, or kill. The industry as what it did to Michael Jackson; killed Whitney and even changed the prerogative star himself, Mr. Bobby Brown among other stars for the worse. We all have our own faults in which we may one day be judged for accordingly. Those faults may very well end up being the determining factor in those gates of Heaven opening for us or not opening for us. |
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Written by Kay Saul
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Perhaps this was my fault, as pillow talk should be a free and open space to be yourself - in every capacity imaginable. Two people lie there after obvious physical grappling and have a calm chat about simple things that don’t matter here or there. Perhaps I don't have to make special note here that my pillow talk is far from meaningless. It's a time when my mind runs to issues of compatibility, world dilemmas, the state of our country and other undesirable topics to discuss at this highly inappropriate time. After brief silence, which I can't stand for longer than 10 minutes outside of a yoga studio, I bring up my displeasure with the continued dissolution of print media. Magazines, news journals, educational and sociological publications have all taken at least 60% of their content online. We see more Nooks, Kindles and iPad’s on the subway being utilized by gentrified reading audiences than ever before. We read our newspapers via an iPad or iPhone New York Times app. Certainly, I acknowledge the reasons for this shift - technology has provided us with more convenience than ever before. We don't have to log around multiple books to keep a sharp mind; we no longer have to use our memories to remember phone numbers, notes or other necessities. Hell, even the most religious among us (get the pun there) no longer need a Bible or any other religious text in print. We have apps for that.
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Written by Kwesi McDavid-Arno
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We didn’t tell the truth about Whitney. I had written her off. I was mad at Whitney for years, and I didn’t really think about why until today - a day after her death. When I heard she was dead, I had scornful thoughts— she was a crack head, it’s better this way. I then began to reflect, and thought back to a recent conversation I had with a woman on the omelet line at work, where she began to talk about Whitney. I started to tease her saying “I know you Black women are loyal but y’all need to cut Whitney loose.” She was a little miffed at my smart-ass comment – but I knew my comment to be true.
Whitney had made a mess of her life and even after dumping Bobby Brown – whom I feel was vilified for Whitney’s own failings - she still couldn’t pull it together. Today I started to reflect on the reality of my words and asked myself why I made that comment? Then I realized. I loved Whitney – she defined beauty for me. I was 14 going on 15 when I saw the “You Give Good Love” video, and I was smitten – it was just her singing the song – this beautiful slender Black Goddess just singing to me. I was mad that she didn’t blossom into what I would have wanted. I was selfish and now sad, and now realize I am mourning my first love.
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Written by Jamal Bell
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This month, the world, especially the Black community has been hit hard. First we discovered that Don Cornelius, creator and host of the historical “Soul Train” committed suicide by shooting himself in the head. Just yesterday, we learned some more shocking news, legendary songstress Whitney Houston was found dead in a Beverly Hills, CA hotel. She was only 48 years old.
Let’s keep things positive. The thing that I hate is that my generation catches the tail end of things, causing us to remember people for different reasons. Mind you, I was born in 1989. While I do recognize her iconic voice and her classic music, growing up a lot of her coverage dealt with her marriage with New Edition’s Bobby Brown and her drug abuse. It’s crazy to me. The perfect example is Michael Jackson. All of his talent, great music, and accomplishments were pushed aside as the focus moved towards him being accused of having sex with little boys and being “Wacko Jacko.”
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Written by Kwesi McDavid-Arno
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Black people suffer from a societal depression. This depression has been caused by the over 400 years of slavery and oppression. ABWS – Angry Black Women Syndrome one of the plagues of Black culture that are a result of this depression. Red Tails the new George Lucas film has sadly fallen victim to this societal depression. The movie has received numerous criticisms over the internet for not featuring any Black women. In reality, Red Tails is a simple, war film that depicts the struggles, achievements and most of all the brotherly bonds that form amongst the famous WWII African American fighter pilots known as the Tuskegee Airmen. Lucas does a tremendous job capturing the brotherly bonds that exist amongst Black men, and the also important bonds that formed that men form Black and White fighting together for survival.
In my opinion Red Tails was a fabulous movie and George Lucas did a fabulous job. It was basically Star Wars with Black people and I loved it, it was a happy movie, it was a movie of victory not one of depressing defeat. No it was not Glory, but as Black people don’t always need to be reminded of the tortuous ways of Slavery and the Jim Crow South. Although the movie was not a documentary, and not designed to be totally accurate – the battle scenes were damn good and most importantly the military accomplishments displayed in the movie were 100 percent accurate.
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