Its here... almost

So, here I stand at the summit. I began this blog to document and notarize my downhill slide to 30 and now, 6 hours from my destination, I realize that it was not a down hill journey at all. In fact, I have unknowingly scaled Kilimanjaro leaving markers ever so often on my ascent in the form of blog entries. What a great diary of growth! The last four months have been profound on so many levels. I found my voice and its strong and clear. Thank you, God. In using that voice, I became acquainted with a very new Scooby. Proud. Unapologetic. Free. Creative. Loved powerfully from every angle. Loved POWERFULLY from every angle. With the recognition of this blessing came a peace that is new and transcends understanding.

I have real friends... Thank You, God. I have real family... Thank You, God. My life means something. Thank You my blessed Savior. Tomorrow starts the beginning of a new mountain but for tonight, I will just enjoy the view from the top of this one. Happy New Year thinkers...

Scooby

5 hours and 45 minutes from being 30 years old and loving it

Land of the, Home of the...

Haven't we been here before?

I am not fooled by the current "debate" going on about healthcare in this country. The right wing curiously frames their opposition argument in terms of fiscal imperatives. Hmmm. This stance sounds strangely congruous with the South's defense of slavery in the late 1800s. Less a moral issue and more a financial inconvenience... smells like capitalism...

Fat Cat Insurance companies and the Cotton/ Tobacco industry of America's past have scarily similar interests... the financial bottom line. Little do most people know or care to accept, slavery was not about skin color. Nope. Sure wasn't. It was about FREE LABOR. The argument that blacks were somehow sub-human was concocted to moralize and justify their enslavement. America was literally built on the blood, sweat, and tears of its enslaved, uncompensated population. Yay Capitalism!

Blacks= The modern day uninsured

It is far cheaper and lucrative for the insurance industry to subscribe to the status quo then make the right choice to insure that all Americans have quality medical coverage. Just as it was far cheaper and lucrative for slave masters/ plantation owners to continue to subjugate and exploit Blacks in the name of capitalism... Three Cheers for Capitalism!

Slave masters= Insurance Industry

Just as 1864 was a defining year for America, so is 2009. We, Americans, are charged with the dilemma of re-configuring the healthcare industry just as our fore fathers were challenged with the elimination of slavery. Both situations were abominable. Both moral imperatives. MORAL!!!!!! Access to quality and affordable healthcare for all Americans is not an issue of finance. If it were, any American with a 7th grade education could think of 10 or more frivolous usages of tax payer revenue that could be cut to absorb this cost. Do we all recall the 400 dollar toilet seat and the 500 dollar haircut trends? ... The problem is the Boss Hog, Fat Cat, Robber Barons of the Insurance Industry don't want to color in the lines (remember Robber Barons from 7th grade History Class? Thank You Mrs. Thorpe I knew it would come in handy one day!). They feel that they are entitled to make 900% more a year than the Average American and STILL deny them access to care. Let's hear a big cheer for Capitalism!!!!!

(silence)

Oh yeah, that's right... Capitalism kinda sucks.

Cover and flank me with your prayers and you can rest assured I am doing the same for you...

Scooby

It aint just about the chedda...

I am spending this morning contemplating forms of currency. 2009 was the year Scooby came to realize that money is the weakest and least valuable of currencies (please excuse my first and third person usages, I'm feeling literary and dense today, roll with it).

As I slide down the hill towards 30, allusions fade and existential ideas become tangible. I've always known a full life was more than money but I didn't know how divorced money and happiness were until now. I am indeed rich. My wealth is not evidenced by countless zeroes in my bank account nor is it witnessed by an entourage of servants adorning me in the accoutrements associated with earthly status. Rather, I have been blessed with another understanding and experience of rich.

Love, friendship, sex, time, art, and wisdom are all currency forms that I enjoyed this year. And let me say, I was LOADED... LOL.

My friends. Where does one begin to give thanks for my angels/demons? LOL. Mommy, Daddy, Darrell, James, Maureen, Crystal, Topaz, Sammy, Sigmund, Myah, Rhett, Holly, Sho, Rhea, Tiff, Amy, Chris, Kyle, Lida, Nicole... and all those unmentioned but un-forgotten. What can I say? Thank you for sharing your lives with me and being a part of my journey towards 30! Whether we were sitting on my couch "doing what adults do" or sending a facebook message to one another from across the globe, our connections run deep and defy ebbing.

Sex is so powerful. Used and enjoyed wisely and with respect, sex is a commodity. A tool:) Why most people don't know their power as sexual, sensual beings and live in it fully is beyond me. Ever since I was 17, I have been rich in this currency with many returns! I thank God for a fulfilling and wonderful sex life!!!!! Connection is healthy and part of a balanced, full, human existence... GET OUT THERE AND START DOING IT PEOPLE!!!!!!!

Wisdom. Enough said.

Thank you God for the gift that is art and creativity. Reflections of the divine exist for me in my most creative space as if my creator and I share a connection accessed by means of creative birth. I am rich as I commune with thee...

Lastly, I am doubly rich and blessed because you take the time to read, comment on, and care about what Scooby thinks. For this, I give thanks and love...

As always cover and flank me in your prayers for you can be assured I am always doing the same 4 u...

Happy Holidays

Scoobyrubydu

Princess Tiana vs The Honey Voiced Homeless Woman

The question...

"Why is it that when blackness is seen through the prism of White America it never equals the sum of its parts?"

Disney has yet again taken that which is rich, full and particular and stripped it to its skeletal frame like an El Dorado in Watts. As I sat at the midnight showing of their new animated film, The Princess and the Frog, I couldn't help but feel betrayed and misled. I expected to see a fantasia featuring and spotlighting the African American experience but what I got was a one dimensional, pitiful after-thought that seemed like the forced product of some affirmative action arm twisting. Ouch.

Louisiana's cultural landscape is quite particular. Can someone explain to me at whose behest they replaced the circle line music which is the aural cornerstone of this place with washed out Randy Newman bluegrass? Creative license huh? The music for Aladdin had more Afro-influence than these hackneyed tunes. Strike 1. I could forgive this misstep if the next weren't so grievous. Egregious. Flagrant... THE ACCENTS! The Bayou wordplay and melodic cadence is so specific and cannot be faked! Playing fast and loose with this dialect was only indicative of the overall lack of care and attention to detail. Strike 2.

Can someone please explain to me why Disney set out to make a movie starring African American characters but found it acceptable to employ ZERO African American creative minds? UGHHHHH! Strike 3.

Why was the animation straight out of 1992? I mean, we've seen Shrek and UP so, we know that animation has moved FAR beyond the 2 dimensional creations of the past. Why did this particular movie have to retro-grade? Strike 4.

Finally, don't bill the flick as being about the first black princess if its TRULY about the first FROG PRINCESS! She was a frog for 85 % of the movie! I know this is part of the story and to some I may seem callous but ... So What! Strike... Oh damn, you get it! LOL!

Fast forward to an early morning in NYC...

As I danced smoothly and uncontrollably on the subway platform to Ledisi's new album, the sweetest voice cut through the air and grabbed immediately for my heart. I had to stop, un-ipod my ears, and listen. There stood a homeless woman belting out one of my favorite Clark Sisters' hits, "Endow Me". I immediately put Ledisi on pause and missed the next 3 trains in order to be audience to this Carnegie Hall worthy performance. Her voice was so big and full. Aching. I ached inside of it. Wow. I thought to myself, "... this is it, the heart that was missing from the movie last night... the heart of true experience... the ability to stir up spirit... that authentic-ness that we as proud Afro-Americans connect to immediately and without hesitation... " Before I could man up, I found myself crying and listening. This Honey Voiced Homeless Woman had done in 20 seconds what Disney (with all their infinite resources) had failed to do. Move me. Make me believe. Make me proud to be black... Home run.

Oh well...

As always cover and flank me with your prayers as I am always doing the same for you...

Scooby

Aint got shit to say.

Somewhere, Somehow, Someway, I misplaced my acerbic perspective, rhetorical stylings, and razor wit. Have you seen them? Seriously.

An artist has no fodder without the tortures of an unjust world. My life has been quite torture-free and surprisingly just as of lately so, I aint got shit to say. Rather than attempt to fit the circle in the square hole or squeeze blood from a turnip, silence will tell my story. (Thank God I can still birth a metaphor:)

Stay tuned...

Keep covering and flanking with the certainty that I will pontificate soon...

Scooby

Uniquely American

What happened at Fort Hood was a great American tragedy but, Major Nidal was not the only culprit, Uncle Sam deserves our collective ire as well. This massacre wasn't the first moment in history when the requirements of assimilation played counterpoint to a healthy sense of cultural identity. For centuries, disenfranchised groups in this country have been forced to pick between the call of ancestor's voices and what is inherently "American". Let me expand...

Muslim Americans are in a precarious situation. America has YET to find empathy for this community when it comes to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Does this group not have a right to feel conflicted? Especially because the ORIGINAL mission in the Middle East has been so bastardized and deformed. Where the hell is Osama Bin Laden? Yikes.

Don't get it twisted America. Insurgents and extremists are not the only ones dying in the Middle East at the hands of our freedom forces. Women, children and other innocents are collateral damage. Sadly, the great American propaganda machine is well oiled and efficient so images of THESE bodies lying roadside are not in circulation. However, the truth of war will not be denied. So the question becomes, "How do sensitive God/Allah fearing souls to deal with these disparities?"

I know my history and if history is a forward indicator, than there is no easy answer to this question. Afro-Americans have been trying to strike this very sensitive balance for centuries. The demands of success in America have been especially hard for brown people because we have been told plainly that the enemy is in our community. House Negro/ Field Negro, Black Cop/ Brothers on the corner, Light Skinned/ Dark Skinned...

How does the black cop feel when he is forced to kill his brother in a drug bust? Participate in racial profiling? Probably much the same way that a Muslim feels when he is forced to murder his Middle Eastern brethren as a member of the American Armed forces. Dilemma.

Now let me make this clear... Major Nidal is indeed a very sick man and deserves to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law for the destruction and pain he has caused. But his underlying issue NEEDS to be addressed because he is not singular. For some, the sacrifice to be a "good" American is too great...

As always cover and flank me with your prayers as I am always doing the same for you,

Scooby

Mmm, not sure

"He's ALREADY blessing me."

Already. Already? When pastor said these words on Sunday, I had both reactions. I know God's love is all around and has insulated me up to this present moment but, what about going forward? The next part of my life has EXTREMELY high stakes and I wonder if one has a finite grace expenditure. Is God concerned with achieving the proper balance of blessings or, does grace stretch as far as faith will allow? Hmmm...

I was pretty popular in high school. I can't deny it. Charm stretched through college and onto my years in Europe. New York brought new levels of blessing and fortune. Don't hate me, the road certainly got rougher...

The last 5 years have been harder than the first 25. From money, to career, to health, challenges were a-plenty. From what I hear, no one is born charmed, lives charmed AND dies charmed. Ask Paris Hilton, Michael Jackson, and the likes. Into every life, a little rain must fall... Cue monsoon and hurricane. I won't bore you with the endless parade of nightmare moments I have endured over the past half decade but believe me, its wince-worthy.

So the question is, can I expect the next season in my life to be magical because the last five years, well... sucked? I know God's promise is real but I don't know if he works on the barter system. "I'll trade you a week's depression if you will evaporate these last five pounds!" Cut to me both depressed and ten pounds overweight. No fair!!!!!

So, let me get this straight... I should be of the thinking that I am already blessed in my moments of infirmity and weakness? Then I can look at everything as a blessing... hold it a second, Butch, I'm definitely not there yet. But I am praying on it...

As always cover and flank me with your prayers and rest assured I am doing the same for you, even if my day.. well, sucks.

Scooby

I will be Tardy 4 the Party

Welcome to the Masquerade Ball. Its a place where boys parade as men and whimsy impersonates sincerity. Here at the Masquerade Ball, we host frauds, liars and the mentally ill without reservation AND raise these charlatans to A-list status. If you have good sense, maturity, a spiritual life, or upward mobility, prepare to be turned away from this exclusive invite-only club because we don't entertain self-discovery here... You've been warned.

I am starting to feel like a minority. As the clock ticks away towards the big 3-0, I am becoming more and more authentic and singular. The truth seems to fall from my lips without prompting (Wuddup Kanye!) and my wants/needs march forth unapologetically. I love this space but it seems that every time I begin looking for a significant other............Masquerade.

WTF?!?!? I am beautiful, black, and broke. There. You have it. I have a stunning apartment overlooking the East River, a closet full of clothes from Europe, a MAJOR personal trainer, a career on the rise, friends that I adore, and a wonderful social agenda. AND IM BROKE. No Masquerade here. It is what it is. I don't mind telling my entire truth because it doesn't define me. It's of the moment. Why are so many of the men I meet into creating personas that don't hold up to even mild scrutiny? If I meet one more investment banker/grocery store clerk, or bartending film director, I may run and jump. Masquerade. Where is the honesty people? Oh what a tangled web we weave....

I guess I have spent some time at the Ball. I admit it. Searching feverishly through the costume clad throng for Mr. Right (or Mr. Right-Now). But Scooby at 22 and Scooby at 29 are terribly different. Modern Me just can't do it anymore. The new me requires an unmasked hero. Think Incredible Hulk instead of Batman. LOL!

Well, Im still open and willing. I don't know where he is but his openness, and level of honesty will be tested and proven before he gets anywhere with me. I've entertained too many bogus Masquerade stars and would rather investigate the Masquerade rejects now... Hmmm, Never thought I would be this happy to be on the OTHER side of the velvet rope...

As always, cover and flank me in your prayers as you can be assured I am doing the same 4 you

Scoobydu

...

Abuse.

Abuse...

This is the dilemma. Is it abuse, period? Or abuse, and the story continues?

I like abuse. I must. There is no other explanation for my talent for finding myself in "certain" company. Being a smart guy capable of digesting the big picture is both a blessing and a curse. I have yet to learn that damaged goods are not always so... good.

Excuses. I make excuses for wounded individuals incapable of taking responsibility for their actions. In my head, these wounded/damaged souls are like aimless hurt children who need guidance and understanding and their tantrums are to be tolerated, curated and then, forgiven.

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP!

Revenge, Animosity, and Malice have no place in the game of love. Lovers who have a tumultuous past have to work towards letting go and working through those hurts if they truly desire each other. If not, welcome to the wonderful world of consensual ABUSE. The relationship becomes a battlefield complete with scoring, fouls, and unsportsman like conduct.

The problem is that I ALWAYS underestimate the human proclivity towards immaturity, revenge, and resentment. You know, the dark shit. Some of my chosen company find these states as warm and familiar as a chenille throw. Of course, I inevitably realize the wounded person is in fact, a wackadoo and send them on their merry way to plot against and sabotage another unsuspecting lover. Hurt and confused, I lose precious time dealing with this emotional dilettante. I have to stop this vicious cycle of taking in "pound puppies" immediately if I am indeed to find my enchanted equal...SO,

HEAR YE, HEAR YE O' NEEDY, BITTER, GUILEFUL, MALICIOUS, DECEITFUL, JEALOUS, ARGUMENTATIVE, INSIPID, TACTLESS, INAPPROPRIATE, NARCISSISTIC, EMPTY, VAPID, ABUSIVE COMPANY OF SCOOBY'S PAST...

you are hereby released from your position without reparation or severance. We are filing Chapter 11 bankruptcy on our business together and you no longer hold any shares. Pack your little box full of shit like the workers at Lehman Brothers, and go.

(This post may seem coded, mysterious and slightly vague but it was quite cleansing 4 me)

As always, cover and flank me in your prayers as I am always doing the same for you...

Scoob

Another one bites the dust

Is again, confused by the behavior of the small minded minority.

I love dissenting opinions. I always have. The antagonist in me loves the tension created when two people of equal heart and mind battle verbally over dueling philosophies. The excitement of linguistic fisticuffs used to be enough for me but now, in my third decade, I am investigating the exquisite art of listening. I like to understand the other point of view thoroughly... and then eviscerate it :)

OMG, I love Facebook!!! I can disseminate an opinion, allow my inner circle to debate over it while I step away and watch like a cyber Svengali? FB is a gift from baby Jesus. LOL. In my long list of Facebook friends, there were two who I held most dear, with highest regard, whose appearance on my comments page would illicit child-like glee and joy....my two Conservative Republican friends! Oh how I loved them. So special. So singular. So entertaining.

Well, I guess they didn't get the memo about Scooby's proclivity towards heated debate and passionate exchange. Yikes. I lost one of my friends two months ago over a healthcare diatribe and the other recently because of some choice words I had about her hero, George W. Damn it Scoob, you always fuck up a good thing by having an opinion!!!!! Nevertheless, here I am. Republican, Right-wing, Conservative-less. UNFRIENDED. Ouch.

This brings me to my greater point...

How come we can't just have different opinions ? Why must we act as though the other has no creedence or even worse, doesn't even exist? My Republican friends have absolutely no clue how I adored them. I wanted to come to their perfectly manicured homes and eat macaroni-n-cheese under the American flag while watching Hannity or Bill O'Reilly. Now, I will never know this pleasure because they have huffishly banished me to cyber Purgatory. What's wrong with being different? Hmmm? Listening to your philosophical enemies and then grabbing a beer together post-war? Maybe I'm just cut from a different cloth. Being from a family where we argued like we hated each other one minute and cuddled up to watch the Cosby show the next, may have warped my understanding of engagement rules. Take it personal? Never.

Why can't Obama's critics stay on the issue? Or for that matter, get to the issue. Why does the gun-toting, socialism-obsessed, "he wasn't born here" throng side step every opportunity for substantive debate and choose instead, to metaphorically UNFRIEND? I now understand Barack's frustrations with the John Boehners, Eric Cantors, and Mitch McConnells of the world because I have also invited healthy debate amongst my Republican friends and been rebuffed. I wonder if Elisabeth Hasselbeck needs a thirty year old brilliant black friend? If she is currently reading these word, hey girl! Call me, I'm listed!

We will never get to common ground in this country if we go all Helen Keller at the thought of dissent. Debate is fun and illuminating. I guess my two special friends didn't think so. Thats alright. I'll find others... The craigslist ad would read thus...

GBM seeking Neo-Conservative sparring partner who enjoys "vigorous debate" and long walks in the park. Must not be myopic and short sighted and not say things like "I love black people, my cleaning lady is black..." or "Gay people don't bother me, as long as they stay in the closet." And most importantly, must like macaroni-n-cheese.

As always cover and flank me in your prayers and rest assured I am always doing the same 4 you...

Scooby

Partisan Peace Ambassador

Sorry black people.... U know i love ya but...

I have a bone to pick with black people.

*Note to non-black friends of Scooby... this post is going to make you uncomfortable. Be forewarned.*

First off, I love being a black man. I learned from the best. My father, Dr. Wendell A. Howlett Sr., was the singular influence on my manhood/cultural identity and I am still drawing on his vivid examples in my third decade. He was/is an educator/activist/author/anarchist reared in the turbulent sixties and Jim Crow Virginia. My daddy has a doctorate degree in African American Studies and to this day, concerns himself fully with the modern struggles of black people in many different countries. As a child, I was not entertained with vapid stories of Pinocchio and Pecos Bill but rather Emmett Till and Nat Turner. I recall sitting on the toilet growing up and not reading Jet magazine or Essence but rather the words of Nelson Mandela which sat proudly over our family's commode... "Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure." Yeah, it was SERIOUS up in the Howlett household.

Needless to say, I went off into the world with a very healthy sense of identity. ALWAYS A MAN. ALWAYS BEAUTIFULLY BLACK. Naively, I thought everyone was blessed with the gifts my daddy secretly slipped me.

So, when I was of age to understand and confront my sexuality (I am indeed a gay man if that is still unclear to some readers), it NEVER occurred to me that I would need to be ashamed or hang my head. Hide? Beautiful black men don't do shame. That's what daddy said. So, I kicked the closet door open and stepped fully into my singularness and authenticity and have yet to apologize to a soul for being me. Again, I got it from my daddy.

Black+Gay+ Man= Proud. This was always my equation. So you can only imagine my utter disgust at the current situation facing our black community. How can we expect our young boys to be men, proud men, proud beautiful men, if we promote dishonesty and shame? Ask them to bow their heads woefully and operate in clandestine secrecy when it comes to their sexual preference?

Why are there so many gay black men who refuse to come out of the closet and prefer the wretched down low lifestyle? Yes, I am talking to you. Why are there so many black churches who refuse to acknowledge their OBVIOUSLY gay congregates? Yes, I am talking to you. Why are there so many black families who ignore the large, pink, bedazzled elephant sitting in the room? IM TALKING DIRECTLY TO YOU! Your willful dishonesty is directly responsible for the killing of our young people. YOU ARE CULPABLE! The level of delusion on your part is truly reprehensible. "Be black and proud... as long as you aint a faggot!"?????????

Being gay is not a choice people. It is a state of being. Its WHAT you are not who you are with. So, if a young man is having these urgings and feelings.... Sorry, but YOU can't stop the beat. As Wendy Williams would say, "It is what it is." Our community is utterly unsupportive of its gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgender members. Why is this? Are black people really so myopic that we can't recognize another disenfranchised group? Is this a case of the victim becoming the victimizer? We are too flossy and fabulous as a people to propagate this type of short-sighted, unfair idiocy! If we don't wake up and smell the proverbial coffee, we will continue to see gains in HIV infections, suicides, and depression amongst our young people.

I am not asking that everyone agree with a homosexual lifestyle. One step at a time. What I am asking for is a level of temperance, understanding and honesty in our communities. Just because you don't talk about something doesn't make it a figment of your imagination. We have to work to re-define the definition of manhood in our black lexicon. It has been maimed and our young men are lost. Anchorless.

My dad's early example saved me from this strange issue. Thank God. Thank Daddy. But I'm not quite as naive as I used to be. I understand that I was lucky. Charmed. For the multitudes, support and insulation are foreign ideas. That makes me sad. I love being me and wish others could feel what I am blessed to feel. But alas, I got it from my daddy. And he only gave it once.

As always, cover and flank me with your prayers and be assured, I am doing the same for you...

Scooby

Who wants to be ruled to death (til death)?

Why do rules exist? I know when we are curious children with a penchant for sticking foreign objects down our throats, rules come in handy. But when you get to be 30 years old, and you continue to renew your subscription to society's dogmatic rule handbook, Yikes.

For instance,

Your beloved has a momentary indiscretion. ALL of your friends sound like a Mary J Blige chorus, "Get rid of his cheatin ass!" In order to save face, and only for this reason, you oust him. Misery, loneliness, and doubt set in. The question is, whose rules did you follow here? Hmmm? Why did the chorus have more creedence than your own heart's urgings? Yikes.

You have always been an artist at heart but have a post graduate degree in biochemicalquantitativepsychoanalyticalresponsive engineering. LOL. Your entire family and for that matter, your entire world expect you to find the cure for cancer but all you truly want to do is flounce about like a ballerina while singing Peter, Paul and Mary tunes (RIP). Where is it written that this decision is not yours? When did you relinquish control of your own life? Double Yikes.

Who made the rule that children under a certain age should not know the correct names for their sexual organs? Calling a vagina a wuwu and a penis a dingaling is not only silly but dangerous. I want my child to be able to tell me if someone touches them and where..... This is not possible if they only know the Teletubby names for their organs. Yikety-Yikes.

Who made the rule that it is rude to talk openly about race? It is, by far, the most interesting, deep, confounded, irrational, enraging issue in our modern American society. What idiot savant made up the question "Why does it always have to be a race thing?" My question is, why not? Why does it make people so uncomfortable to talk about our differences? I love being black as well you should find the love in being whatever the hell you are. Let's then, discuss and compare notes. yi...you get it.

What the hell? I can't MARRY whomever I want? What simple-minded bigot with a God complex made up this modern Jim Crow rule? And please don't say God because my Savior didn't write the Constitution of the United States. I'm too brilliant for that flawed argument...YIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKES!

So, I guess my ultimate observation is... BE CAREFUL AND ATTENTIVE. Too many of us are allowing the joy-less, uninspired, adventureless throng set the agenda for our lives. You only get one swing at the ever elusive happiness. Make it your best......

As always cover and flank me with your prayers and you can rest assured, I am doing the same thing for you.. its a little rule I have.

Scooby

Kanye, the truth, and the "to me" factor

The words "to me" will be my bullet proof vest throughout this post. When I use these two magic words, allow your mind to relax and your blood pressure to fall. Don't forget it...

What is happening in this country right now? I don't quite understand. When did fervor, zest and decibel level start passing for truth and fact? And when did truth and fact become subjective like Coke or Pepsi?

I.E....

Sarah Palin has been disseminating death panel ridiculousness for the past month. Although her claims have been proven erroneous by non-partisan arbitrators, there is a simple throng in this country that still support this quitter and hang on her every vitriolic word.

Joe "the original Confederate" Wilson has a hateful Tourettes moment on the floor of Congress and in the presence of our nation's highest officer. Although he has been unequivocally proven WRONG in his assertion, somehow, he has found a wing of this country who are in die-hard support?

George Bush goes on the floor of Congress in 2001 and proclaims that there is no doubt that there is a connection between September 11th and Iraq and urges/ pressures the legislature to vote for war measures. 8 years later, we are left to mourn the loss of American lives. Oh, BTW, he was also proven to be a a presidential liar.

Where am I going with this? Here it is.....

Where was all the outrage when these wackadoos were telling LIES that actually harmed the fabric of America? Hmm? Where was all the mock incredulity then? Hmm?

Fast forward to Sunday, September 13th 2009 at Radio City Music Hall in New York City. Kanye "tell em the truth til it hurts" West jumps up on the stage interrupting Taylor Swift's monotonous acceptance speech and injects some much needed truth serum into the mix. BEYONCE'S SINGLE LADIES VIDEO WAS INDEED THE MOST VIEWED, MOST REPLICATED, DUPLICATED, CELEBRATED VIDEO TRIUMPH OF THIS DECADE!

"To me" this is undeniable. (Remember my directions about these two magic words, nah nah nah boo boo!) Beyonce's video single handedly (pun intended) revived the music video dance genre and introduced an entire new generation to this phenomena. Not since Rhythm Nation, Thriller, and the Paula Abdul years have we, as a nation, had such a singular (pun intended) obsession with a music video. Taylor Swift winning that award was a re-writing of the last year's history and I don't have dementia. Seeing President Barack Obama do the "Single Ladies" hand twist at an address put the nail in the proverbial coffin. "Single Ladies" mania was singular (p. i.) and not a figment of our collective imagination.

I am a truth teller. SO, I love other truth tellers. To me, Kanye West was saying what a vast percentage of us in the viewing audience were thinking. Yes he was classless, tasteless, ridiculous, arrogant, audacious, and presumptuous AND amidst all that wretched delivery and timing, he was indeed telling the truth. You can be a truth telling asshole. I should know, I 've been one :)

I feel very sorry for young Ms Swift. She was a casualty of the truth or, a truth. Many of us have been. But, to me, to compare the very real phenomena that was "Single Ladies" with the "I cant even remember the name of this boring ass song" success of Taylor Swift, is like comparing a half eaten McDonald's cheeseburger with a Julia Childs beef bourguignon. They just inhabit completely different stratospheres.

I can hear you now thinkers, "Scoob, How the hell does Sara Palin's political ridiculousness intersect with Kanye's soapbox?" Well, for that question, I don't have a straight answer. I just know in my viscera that Kanye West spoke what was true (to me) and he was left to rot and Ms Palin spoke what was false and she has been elevated to heroine status. I think that's weird. I think that's wrong. TO ME, that is what's wrong with America now. It wasn't the fact that Joe Wilson yelled in the middle of Obama's speech, IT WAS THAT HE WAS FACTUALLY WRONG! Hands down. If someone had indeed stood up on the floor of Congress in 2001 and told George Bush he was a bold faced lying sack of Texas shit, maybe we wouldn't be two wars in and brow deep in debt and grief.

Its a stretch. I know guys! But this is what I do. I don't buy into the thinking that life can be compartmentalized. There are situations where speaking your truth is acceptable and others where biting you tongue is the way. I vehemently reject that way of life. I believe, in the United States of America, the truth still sets us free. So thank you Kanye because I believe that George Bush truly does "hate black people" and I also believe that "Single Ladies" was the best Female Video of 2009.... To me, To me, To me, To me!

Yes I have opinions but isn't that why you read me? LOL. And as most of you already are keenly aware, I have NEVER needed the cast of thousands behind me to validate my feelings...

Cover and flank me in your prayers and you can be sure I am always doing the same 4 you

Scooby

that old black's magic called.....

I cant shake the feeling that something's missing.

I have been in the dirty apple for a decade now and consider it the greatest city in the world. At 21, a young doughy-eyed thespian was called to the city to fulfill his life long dream of dancing on Broadway. Thank God for answering prayer. Its been a charmed existence here in the city of dreams rubbing elbows with both the glitterati and the shiterrati ( I love making up words). Seriously, I have had a blast here. Career, Friends, Money, Lifestyle, and Access. But here I am on the anniversary of September 11th sitting in my beautiful sprawling apartment unable to shake the feeling that there is a hole. A gaping, vacuous, hole that I never anticipated. What good is upward mobility in my third decade if that hole is unfulfilled, unaddressed?... I WANT TO BE IN LOVE!

No. Not the volatile, fleeting, irrational "in love" of my twenties. I have definitely had my fill of being a chickenhead and entertaining the chicken coop. Falling for esthetics, or financial position or pure GODDAM factor. Im talking about the "in love" my parents shared for 25 years. The "in love" that propels both lover and lovee to higher heights and loftier goals. The "in love" that we all are sent to this earth to find and experience. Yeah, that one.

I can hear you now... but you are so fly and fabulous, surely you have had lovers crawling out of your ears. To that I say... OF COURSE I HAVE! LOL. But the decision to love and be loved is just that, a decision. I can have several stellar choices for a mate but if I am unwilling and unskilled, the proverbial rubber never hits the road :) No one taught me that one. I actually have to decide to be in a relationship, be open to my partner and do the hard work of staying together? Yikes. Originally, I believed in the fairy tale version of things. You spot one another from across a crowded room, hearts roll out of your eyes, and you glide towards each other while celestial voices sing in perfect harmony and then live strife-free ever after. I still like that scenario I just know that subsequently those voices can go from celestial to demonic to a whistle of complete boredom. I am preparing myself, and my life for the latter phases of love. In my twenties, I was never able to circumvent the demon part.

Are there any potential suitors? Maybe, maybe not. I ain't giving it all up on blogspot dot com! LOL! I just know that I have to be prepared when the time and person are right. I don't want to enjoy the next decade's success without a special person beside me. Its important. So, Im doing my part. Refining myself. Re-defining my goals and pushing the limits of my facilities. I KNOW now is my time. The tone is hopeful and the possibilities are many. I just hope I choose correctly and don't end up with another chickenhead. Poultry is so hard to digest.

I think it was watching the September 11th memorial today that made me dig into this gnawing feeling. So many holes where loved ones used to be. Cliched, but, It really makes one think about what's important. What's of value.

Well, I'm on the hunt. I know I'm not supposed to say I'm looking for love but.... I am. Eyes and heart open. Ready, willing, able, and armed with the tools for absolute relationship success. I adore this part. The part when I don't know what the fuck is about to happen......

As always cover and flank me in your prayers as you can be sure I am doing the same 4 you,

Scooby

Get up Stand up!!!!!!

Weirdo, Right-Wing Wackadoos beware. Barack Obama is smarter than the average bear....

I made a rhyme, how cute.

The talking heads have created a frenzy the last couple of days in their efforts to make our hero seem impotent in the fight for Universal Healthcare. Are they just trying to fill their 24 hour news cycles or are these pundits unaware of who they are dealing with? Finesse. Charm. Equanimity. Directness. Over all Balla. They better ask somebody.

I know in my heart of hearts that Barack is waiting for the right time to beast on these crooked Congressional assholes. My viscera tells me that tomorrow's address to the joint session of clowns will be his chance to finally make it clear that he is indeed PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES and they better get out of the way or prepare to be steam rolled. DVR is set and ready.

He won the presidency with an overwhelming majority of the popular vote. There are fool-proof majorities in both the House and Senate. This didn't happen through Darwinism. WE VOTED THAT WAY! If that is not a mandate for change, I will eat my Yankees fitted. Why are people still arguing that this is a center right country? I know from the vantage of my Harlem co-op the world seems very liberal but truthfully, from Harlem to Des Moines, to L.A, to St. Paul, Americans are hurting. Republican or Democrat, everyone gets sick and old. I don't know why it just happens..... Maybe the Japanese will come up with a pill. LOL.

The cost of healthcare in America is atrocious and appalling. I know from personal experience. After my 2006 eye surgery, my costs ran up about eight stacks (8000 dollars). AND I HAVE INSURANCE! I am still working to pay off these debts and fight rabid bill collectors. How could this be? How can anyone stand in front of me and tell me this is fair. American? I take care of myself. Workout, Eat well, Pray/ Meditate, etc.... My hero won't allow good people like myself to suffer for long. I know it. I know him. They better ask somebody.

We have to continue to support him without reservation and can't allow our cries of solidarity to be muffled by the fringe. Yes, we did get him in office but that was only the part of the detailed plan to re-capture America. Not sure we ever really HAD it but that's another convo 4 another day. It's our time. The hurting, the broke, the frustrated masses. Its our time. No need to ask anybody....

Note to the Old Boy's Club.. "Your days are numbered and your ass is grass. If you stand in our way we will eviscerate you. Literally. So, go back to your bigot cradles and get ready for the wave of change that has hit and continues to bash the walls of injustice in America...."

As always, cover and flank me in your prayers as you can be sure I am doing the same 4 you...

Ready and willing,

Scooby

Easy Like Sunday Morning....

God is Amazing. No. God is Beautiful. No. God is Mind-blowing.

Maybe God is just practical/logical. Whatever God is, he/she shows up in my life regularly. As I write this post, the most splendid sun is rolling up over Yankee Stadium and the coolest, calming breeze cuts the ether. This is God. I think. Those moments where life distills to its simplest comforts. A good friend calls it "A Thin Place". Thanks Courtney. For me, God exists in this thin place between the sublime and my recognition of it.

My best friend Darrell and I teem with chuckles at the sight of our friend James walking towards us in the new fall fashion, plaid, polka dotted knee-length afghans. James knows we can be shady so he is prepared for the firing squad. When he reaches our table, awkward silence followed by cinematic, hysterics. We have so much fun at each other's expense and love one another fiercely. God shows up here for me.

Since I was 16, my father has ALWAYS stood in the doorway and watched me leave. ALWAYS. I could be going to the 7-11 around the corner but Dr. Howlett will see me off. The image of him waving from the porch, getting smaller and smaller in the distance is vivid in my head. Does he think I'm never coming back? I just want an 89 cent Slurpee but Daddy does not care. Its cute, and annoying and he will NEVER stop doing it.... God is here.

The morning I lost part of the vision in my right eye because of a retinal detachment, I was cool and calm..... God was all up and through......

When the perfect words meet the perfect page and express my thoughts..... perfectly. God.

So, I don't know about the dogma. Im still figuring all that out but I DO know where God is and continues to be. I have come full circle in my self-talk about him. I used to doubt but I know now that something or someone beautiful designed these scenarios and all the other mysteries of the universe. I want to meet him someday..... Thats my truth....

As always, cover and flank me in your prayers as you can be sure I am doing the same for you...

Scooby

The first of many...Intro to MY blog

200 lbs of solid, black manhood and two Grey Goose Martinis are my limit. Pathetic. As I sit here writing this post, completely drunk, I wonder if I have some pre-disposition to abuse. Yes, I enjoy the occasional blunt and like earlier said, a straight up martini is my delight but, lately, I have welcomed any help to numb my screaming mind. It must be the countdown. 4 months until my 30th birthday and all types of feelings are bubbling.

WTF? I never expected this. Intensity. Passion. Anger. I have more opinions, wants, and needs now at 29 and 8 months than I ever thought I would have.... ever. A PERFECT time to start blogging about the changes I am going through. I assume my cohorts are also experiencing this maelstrom so I figured I would create a place where we could vent, discuss, debate, vomit, and ultimately, create a community.

I love commas. In sentences and life...

Dell Howlett is a twenty nine year old, black, gay man living in the greatest city in the world trying to find the balance. Art, Love, Politics, Religion, Pop Culture, Friendship, Family, Sex...... Infinity. I NEED to talk about it all. Sitting at the converge of many different influences used to make me crazy but now makes me hungry. Hungry to have my voice heard and my vote counted.....I wont always be politically correct or palatable but I will always be truthful and representative. I woke up and spit my social gag out many moons ago so if you subscribe to the dictates of social decorum, I may not be your cup of tea.....

Tune in for my perspectives and commentary...

As always cover and flank me in your prayers as you can be sure I am always doing the same 4 you....

Scooby