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#BlackPodcastWeek – Day 1: The Underrated

As many of you know, I am a man of many hobbies. One of which, podcasting, is very dear to my heart. I've been podcasting for seven years now in different forms and fashions, and as I see a lot of my friends on Facebook discussing their musical ventures and adventures, I feel energized by the love that the general public is giving them. It is all well deserved, by the way, and they likely deserve 10 times more than what they are receiving. Just like podcasters.

This week is ‪#‎BlackPodcastWeek‬. It is a time where we are able to get more shows out to the public than you may be aware of. For each day, there is a different theme. Yesterday was Underrated podcasts, and today is Black gamer/nerd & Storytelling podcasts.

Over this week, I am going to be posting some of my all time favorite podcasts on my page and also on this public feed. I'd really appreciate it if these shows were shared among those who have listened to shows, those who like radio and are looking for something different, and those who just know me as a stand up dude who just wants to show love.

So, since I missed yesterday, I will begin with Underrated black podcasts. Again, these are shows that I know of that may be flying under your radar for one reason or another, and should be on your dial. To the hosts of these shows, calling you underrated is in no way a slight.

Kevin Hates Hip-Hop, The Swirl World, Americans United Again, The Onyx TruthThe Pennymon DoctrineMy Truth: Straight Talk No Chaser, JustTalkingWithSam, BeatinDaBlock.comThe "What Up Doe?" Show,The FMA ShowThe Dr3am Team, The In Deep ShowRecaptheRecap ShowThee UnCinema Bun Podcast, Negros With A Podcast, Just the Two of Us PodcastJust Thinkin' Out Loud Media, The Family Radio Show, Why You Mad Son? Radio, The 7Thirty ShowStraight Outta Lo Cash, The LS Rules, Mr. No Good, The Spann Report, Eclectik RelaxationRing Time Pro Wrestling, and The RedRock PodCast NetWork.

Please take time to check out some of these shows, available on Stitcher, iTunes, PodOmatic and other podcatchers. The easiest way to find them is to search for them on Google.


Lost Contact: A Story of a Man and His Dad

Today I called my father for the first time in a years. It was with a bit of hesitation and not without dread. You see, my father and I have always been the same person: open with our opinions but guarded with our moods. Always looking to take you down before you got to us, and never willing to miss an opportunity to make you feel dumb. The second to last time I spoke with my father, it was to answer a question for my now six year old son. He wanted to know where his grandfather was (out of state) and if he was still alive (yes). When I told him where he was (Hawaii) he wanted to ask him a question about volcanoes, because he was four, and it interested him to know that someone that he didn't know, yet was connected to him was in a land (in his mind) where volcanoes ran free with dinosaurs and ninjas and bubble guppies. I don't know. I'm not four.

So we called my dad up, and my son was trembling with excitement. The last time he had seen my dad was when he was a year old and we went on a vacation with a bunch of family members. My dad spent most of that vacation brooding over one thing or another, and I remember not wanting to be the cause of his ire, so we did not cross paths. Since my son never left my side for the most part, they did not cross paths, either.

My dad answered the phone. In my memories, I recall him answering with a curt "What do you want?"

Now I could be changing his words because of a hazy memory, or because of what happened next. Either way, what transpired next was what severed the relationship. I put my son on the phone, who was literally trembling like a puppy with the excitement of speaking with his grandfather. The only other grandfather he knew is a wonderful man, and I'm sure that he expected my dad to be the same. I'm sorry that I didn't warn you, son. I didn't know how.

My son got on the phone and started talking. To know my son is to know that he is a talker, born of a family of talkers, and at four, he didn't really know how to formulate his thoughts into a concise statement, so he rambled. I remember the huge smile on his face when he got on the phone, and the mash up of conversations that he wanted to have resembled a ten car pile up on the freeway. It ranged from have you seen a volcano, to are you my grandfather, to are you a ninja, to how is Hawaii, to I can spell Hawaii, all in one breath. It was the dawn of a tender moment, and I waited to see what the response would be from my dad.

So when my dad responded with a huffy "I haven't seen any volcanoes," and that was the kindest response to my son's inquiries, as I watched my son's face collapse like a balloon with a pin prick in it, as I heard the boredom and almost contempt in my dad's voice as he spoke with my son for the first time, THE FIRST TIME that my son was able to talk with him with actual sentences and clear thoughts, I broke. My son handed me the phone and went upstairs to be with his mom. His shoulders slumped, and he told me that he was suddenly "Tired". I understood. And I despised my dad for it. I got on the phone to advise my dad that he disappointed my son, but I got a dial tone. He had already hung up.

He never saw my son again after that. He never called him, never made contact. My older daughter spoke with him all the time. He would call her mom (we are separated) and would talk to my daughter that way. He arranged for her to fly out to Hawaii to spend time with him and his wife. None of that was offered to my son, and that made me despise him further.

As a kid, I remember many of the conversations that I had with my dad. Often, they began, ended, or both with an argument. Only twice did they end with the words, I love you. I initiated those conversations, and I remember the pause, the open air silence, the chasm in our thoughts before he answered me in kind. I floated through the day the first time I heard that statement from him. I was probably nine.

More often though, I remember the argument conversations and the inanity of them all. The Military Conversation. The Mama's Boy Conversation. The Long and Awkward Ride to Washington When I Sat in the Front Seat Conversation. None of them came with warning, all of them struck with venom, and all of them stung for life.

As I got older, I realized that I, too was becoming hostile, quick tempered, jaded, and also very reclusive. I was becoming more and more like the man that I had grown up studying, but never really knowing. I began to experience situations and issues that I know that he had gone through, and I wished more than once that I could talk with him to get his opinion, his words, his help. But I couldn't. I did not want to give him another opportunity to verbally lacerate me. I didn't want to open that door for derision. So I didn't. I muddled through my young adult years and most of my twenties finding help from my girlfriend's father, and then from my wife's father. Both were (and are) a great help. Neither can fill the void that was there.

A year ago, I had a breakdown, and called my mom. I had walked away from my job, and was blindly walking up and down the street. I was in hysterics, and the only thing I kept saying to her is "I want to talk to my dad. I miss my dad." She calmed me as much as she could, considering that I likely scared her to death, and we hung up. The next call I received was my dad. I blubbered in his ear for about fifteen minutes about how I missed him and how I was not crazy and how I needed him in our lives, and he just listened. I know he said things back, and I wish to God that I could recall ANY of them, but I cannot. That was the second time he said I love you. It was also the last time we spoke.

I looked his number up in my contact list this morning. I was going to call him to wish him a Happy Father's Day, and to let him know that I loved him but that we needed to really talk. I needed to understand the gap between him and my family, and the gap between he and I. It wasn't as if he were dead, he just wasn't interested in my family, and I wanted to fix that. If it took a day, or if it took a year, I wanted to fix that, and I was willing to work as long as it would take to make sure that both of his grandchildren knew him, and that my wife knew her father in law the way I know mine. I woke up this morning with that as my set goal.

*Doo, doo, dooooooo. The number you have dialed has been disconnected, or is no longer in service.*

He had disconnected his number, and I didn't have any number in its place.

Rather than hunt it down (which I could do at any time) I've decided that this is the way that it is supposed to be. Instead of trying to regain contact with my dad, I simply hit the button to delete his information from my phone.

He would've wanted it that way. Happy Father's Day, dad.

The Dream Team RSS Feed

Here is the RSS feed for The Dr3am Team.

Manchild in the Promised Land

How many children did you fail today?


My current count is 8.


None of them is my own, and only 3 of them are family members (cousins, nephews), but each of them were another opportunity for me to be something. A bit more, you know? And I didn’t. I saw the opportunities cross me, and just like Casey at the bat, I let them pass. It isn’t like I’m waiting for a perfect pitch, either. I’m just actively avoiding giving any assistance to kids that aren’t my own.


And I’m failing them all in droves.


In 2012, 34 percent of the households inSacramentowere single parent households (Children In Single Parent Households, County Health Rankings). While we cannot, in all honesty, ascertain that all 34% were mother led homes, I would not hesitate to place that number at 32%, leaving that 2% margin for single father households. I know that there are some, because I was one a few years back, but for the sake of argument, we are going to say that 98% of single family households are led by mothers.


Moms, I honor you for that.


And I apologize.


I have seen so many young men that just are aimless. And it isn’t the fault of anyone in particular, but they need more guidance than what their mothers are able to offer. Or their grandmothers, or aunts, or any other women in their orbit.


Have you ever noticed that? Men do not take young males under their wings, even if they are in their family. We would rather stand back and watch them crash than step forward and help them achieve. I know I do, and I know the exact reason.


I’m scared.


I don’t assume that many men are like me in any way, shape or form, so when I speak, please believe that I am not speaking for all men. I probably am, but until enough other men step up and confirm my thoughts, I am on an island.


I don’t trust people as a rule. I’m constantly under the belief that I am getting set up whenever I reach out, and young people are not immune from that belief.


Especially young men.


Super especially young black men.


That is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most racist statement that I’ve ever made, but the reason why I stand behind it is this:

I was a young black man. And when I was, I would take advantage of any opportunity given me, whether it was good, or bad.


More often than not, it was the good opportunities, and for that, I am eternally grateful to three people:


My mom, who was essentially a single woman for the majority of my childhood, and rode me like Zorro to make sure that I wasn’t doing too much dumb shit;


My brother, the punkass, who actually was pretty good at keeping me away from the dirt that he and his friends were doing by not letting me follow him and his friends when they were doing said dirt,


And Wayne Odd.


Wayne Odd was a 25 year old male who went to my church when I was a kid. He had two kids, both young kids, and he had a wife.


The reasons that I mention these things is so that I can click a few things off my list:


1: He had two kids. Both boys. Thus, he had no reason or need to be involved in my life. He already had boys to raise up the right way, and no one would have looked down upon him for saying that his plate was full.


2: He was married. So he didn’t have any need to pursue my mom. Which was good for me, because from the age of 3 until the age of 18, I was on that Doritos kid kick: “Don’t touch my mama, and don’t touch my Doritos.” My mom is model beautiful now, so back then, I figured that any man who was talking to me was eyeing my mom.Waynedidn’t. That meant a lot to me. He was the Anti-Cutty.


Waynewould pick me up from my house, and we would go to the park and play basketball. We would go to the museum and look at art. He let me take his older son on a bike ride, in which I had him in the baby seat on the back, and kind of forgot he was there, and ghost rode the bike while he was still attached.


(As a side note, he didn’t die. As a matter of fact, he just graduated from college with a degree in engineering, so maybe that bump to the head helped. Yay, me.)


ButWaynedidn’t yell at me for it. His wife did, a bit, and I was okay with that, because that is what my mom would’ve done.Waynejust stood back and watched, and then, when it was all over with, we talked.


And that is what we did more often than not. We talked. About how I was feeling, about girls, about fears, about my anger about my father. And he listened. Sometimes, he would point out experiences that he had, but more often than not, he listened.


You have no idea what that does for a kid, to have someone just listen. An outside party, who has nothing to gain from you except your success. I had that, and I think I am better for it.


But I have always been wary of approaching the kids in my neighborhood and mentoring them, because I don’t know how to really be of good counsel, and I don’t always say the right things, and I don’t truly have limitless amounts of patience for kids. And so I stand back and I watch them fall.


I saw one of my friend’s sons last month, and I asked him how he was doing, how school was going, all the usual adult questions. He answered them all with the enthusiasm that any kid would show for those type of questions; namely, none. We spoke, he never looked up or smiled, and I walked away, thinking that I touched another life, and that I was doing the right thing.


He went to juvenile hall a few days ago.


Now was that my fault? No. Even if I hadn’t talked with him, chances are he was still going down that path. But what if I did more than talked? What if I actually listened?


I have to say that situation lit a fire in me, and I am going to be the mentor that I should’ve been years ago. I cannot stand by and watch kids fall. I can no longer murmur ‘That’s a shame’ to family members when they tell me about another young male that is going to prison, or juvenile hall. Because it is a shame.


It’s a shame that I didn’t help.


I’m not writing this to get you to mentor. If it is in your heart, it is something that you will eventually do. I’m writing this for three reasons:


To apologize to that young man, and promise him that I will do better.


To thank my mom for never being afraid to reach out and ask for assistance. My mom recognized that she could not fully raise a boy to be a man, and that she needed help. She swallowed her pride and took me to Manhood development at my church, and she took me toWayne. How many single mothers right now are locked in that independent mind state? If you are, let me tell you that you are failing yourself, and you are failing your son. You can’t do everything. You can try, and you can fail.


AndWayne. Thank you so much for everything you did for me. Seeing you and your family a few months back was one of the greatest moments of the year, because you got the chance to see that your efforts weren’t in vain, and that your help was monumental.


If I want to have that chance 10 years from now, I’ve got to get started now. I’ve got to be a man for those young boys who don’t have one around.


I hope you will, too. This doesn’t have to be Big Brothers of America stuff. You can go to your neighbor, who has the son that you have a bit of a rapport with, and talk with her. Many times, you’ll find that they are receptive. Go from there.


If you go to church, talk with your pastor. I’m sure they know PLENTY of kids who need assistance, and will link you up with one or more.


But be aware that this is not an undertaking to take lightly. Once you are in their lives, you can’t just walk back out. This is important, because it is so easy to do because they aren’t your kids.


If you live inAmerica, chances are you can look out your window and see a kid that you are failing right now. You may know some of them, you might not.


I want to help them. I hope you do, too.


If you are interested in mentoring, and don't have any other way to get started, click here to check out the Big Brothers, Big Sisters organization.






Love and Marriage

I'm pretty sure I don't care about same sex marriages. So when I say that they are not for me, please do not get offended.

Because I mean exactly that. Same sex marriages are not for me. They are for the two people in the relationship who feel strongly enough about one another that they choose to make their union recognizable by both the state and God.

I guess. I really know pissall about marriage. I'm in one, but we went to a justice of the peace. It has been smooth sailing ever since. My wife asks me to do something, I do it. I notice something wrong, I fix it. She throws a towel at me, I duck. Usual married stuff. To me. To you, probably not so much.

But as much as I know that I don't know about marriage, I do know that there is absolutely no reason to withhold it from anyone. What is the use of that?

I mean, let's really examine what doesn't happen because of a marriage.

The rates of homes in your neighborhood won't drop. Crime will not rise, unless the couple fight, and if they do,then they likely did before they got married, so they were already a statistic. Unemployment will still remain high. Or improving, depending on what political party you speak to.

The educational value of your schools will not drop. You won't win the lottery. Tupac and Biggie's killers won't be captured, and Nickelodeon's Doug will not be on Netflix.

So how is this an issue now? California went through this in 2008, and has been funking over it ever since. We've been through Prop 8, Schwartzenegger vs Perry and all other sorts of foolishness in order to stop something that half of the folks nowadays don't want to do in the first place. (Marriage Rate in America Drastically Drops -  Huffington Post)

Support for same sex marriages has been rising steadily as younger generations get the opportunity to state their opinions. When polled on their voting decision regarding Prop 8, White voters between the ages of 18 and 29 voted against it 67 percent to 33 percent. Latino voters between 18 and 29 voted against it 59 percent to 41 percent. (Mixed Numbers for Same-Sex Marriages)

The thing that irritates me the most about this stance against same sex marriage is that they are steadfastly stating that African Americans are the leading race against them. They point at the fact that we as a people are incensed that they are comparing the struggle for homosexuals to the Civil Rights movement. Well, as an African American male that has no issue speaking for myself, let me say that personally, I do see the trace connections. They are working to get their civil rights. I mean, right now, they are working to have the right to get married. What is that if not a civil right?

But at the same time, I don't feel that African Americans should be placed as the people who are leading the charge against homosexuals. Allow me to reiterate that I could care less what you do behind your closed doors. If you love someone, and they love you, go for it. If you happen to be the same sex, so be it. Just because I don't subscribe to your style of love doesn't mean that you can't.  One groups opinion should not subvert another group from enjoying something.

Times are changing. Once upon a time, marriages of different races were still thought to be taboo. We worked hard to prove that there was nothing inherently wrong with those unions, and we should fight just as vigorously for the unions of same sex partners. To do one and not the other simply reeks of hypocrisy.

Look. You can't choose love. That is the cliched phrase that I've always heard. And if you love someone, there isn't a greater showing of it than to choose to live your life for them, and them for you. That is what I do with my wife, and it is what any person should have the right to do for their significant other.

Give same sex couples the same opportunity to fall or fly that heterosexual couples have. Give them the chance to marry.

DJ Burn One Presents K.L.U.B. Monsta: Separate But Sequel

A Review of Separate but Sequel - K.L.U.B. Monsta (Mixtape)

By Rashanii

 I guess I should have seen it coming from the initial spoken word that began the mixtape. Big Rube sets the table perfectly, speaking on the treasures and measure of a man. The love of family and friends, not money. How you impact the lives of people around you. Knowledge.

 This CD isn’t like many others that I had ever heard.

 Separate but Sequel is the highly anticipated mixtape from K.L.U.B. Monsta, hosted by DJ Burn One. Each song speaks of growth, from the brilliant opening song, Freedom, where they recount how music had saved them from their surroundings, against a beautiful backdrop of rising violins and Jasmine’s beautiful breathy alto gracing the chorus, to Playing to Our Strengths, where the blistering lyrics shatter any illusions of these gentlemen’s confidence in themselves. Destined is one of the purest songs I've ever heard. The honesty is staggering. Listen to the second verse. Then re-listen. And do it again.

 I’ve never written a record review, but at the same time, I think I’m the perfect vessel to talk about this record, because it is so much more than music. K.L.U.B. Monsta has a distinct connection with history, with the knowledge of self, and they want to share that with you, the listener by any means necessary.

 They rap about education, not bitches. About MLK, not drugs. I can listen to this CD and feel growth. Growth in me as well as in the group and the awesome thing is that it all seems so effortless.

 I don’t have too many Hip-Hop or Rap CD’s in my daily playlist. I know that there are 6 or 7 groups that I listen to monthly, 3 or 4 that I hear weekly and 1 that I check out daily.

 K.L.U.B. Monsta just reached the weekly section. This CD is that good, that diverse, and that necessary. It is a splendid sophomore effort that should be applauded and lauded by every one.

 Well done, gentlemen.

 I don't put ratings on reviews, but I will say this: If this CD wasn't free, I'd pay for it. Without hesitation. And I would guard it with my life to make sure no one stole it. That is some high praise.


Favorite tracks: Freedom, Playing to Our Strengths, Sam’s Street Child, Destined


 Follow the group on Twitter at @Klub_Monsta 


Check out their website and download the Mixtape here: 

Here is an alternate mirror site for downloads:

No Longer Seeing in Black and White

Today, Christopher “Kid” Reid of the group Kid – N- Play was issued a warrant for not going to court in regards to a DUI that he got in 2010. This was not surprising to me because this isn’t the first time that he has had issues with the law, but it did serve to make me think of how in the 80’s and 90’s, I would have never expected him to be the one to be in trouble. When I say that, I don’t just mean in trouble with the law, I mean in trouble EVER. After all, that is how Hollywood had set him up.

 Or maybe that is how Hollywood set us up.

When I go to the movies, or when I bootleg a movie, I often go with an extremely discerning eye. I look to see if the plot has continuity, I see if there are any failures in regards to the scripting, and I always look for common stereotypes. For example, in a horror movie, the black person dies first. This was shown as boldly as possible in Scream 2 when Jada Pinkett and Omar Epps died before the title screen was even shown. There are other stereotypes as well, such as the token black, which I always pay attention to as well. It is like movie bingo to me. Once I see all of the offending pieces, I am able to move on and possibly enjoy the movie.

I never thought to look for any stereotypes in movies made ‘For’ me. Movies by Black people about Black people never really registered for me as an avenue for stereotyping, because why would Black people go out of their way to press their beliefs, fears and misunderstandings on me? Man, I just wanted to see the newest dance moves!

 But it happens. And every single Kid – N – Play movie ever made is a great example.

Let’s start with their earliest offering. In House Party, Kid plays ‘Kid’, a good kid who goes to school, tries to keep out of trouble, and gets good grades. After he gets in trouble (by no fault of his own, by the way) his teacher says he is going to call his house. This is bad news because there is a booming party that is going to be happening that evening that he has to go to.

Now, I’m pretty sure that if you are reading this, you already know the background of this movie. If you are like me, you saw the first two offerings of House Party, and then it faded out around the time that they began parading Def Comedy Jam comedians through the third movie for no reason. Chris Tucker? Really? For why?

 As usual, I digress.

In watching that movie, though, we overlooked a few things. Actually, a lot of things. Did you notice that Kid, the light-skinned one, was studious, and a good kid, and didn’t want to disappoint his father. He also was the one who was gallant, and kind of nerdy, and didn’t know how to approach girls that he thought were cute.

On the other hand, you had Play. He was the darker of the two, and although he was in no means dark, he fit the bill for these movies. He was the more flamboyant of the two, more outspoken, and much more of a player around the women. Also, while Kid was the one who didn’t want to disappoint his father, Play threw a huge party for his friends in which the toilet was ruined. Remember, in those days, the biggest fear that parents would have when they left the house in movies was “No Parties,” meaning that Play willfully and maliciously disobeyed his parents in having one.

 Need more?

The women in this movie were also interesting in that they were also close friends, but one was light skinned and one was dark. In the case of Sydney, she was a light skinned girl of virtue who was the quiet, almost nerdy one. She lived in a mansion with loving parents who tucked her in at night. She also had a crush on Kid, but she wasn’t going to pursue him unless he approached her first, because that is what a lady does.

Conversely, Sherane was the darker female lead, and she was not only the better dancer, but she was far more outspoken. She also was the one that both Kid and Play lusted after, and she would flirt with both of them as well, leading them on and giving off the belief to the audience that she was, as my mother often said while watching the movie, ‘fast’. She lived in a project in the hood, where parents opened doors with steel grills on their face, and her siblings made the Red kool aid with EXTRA sugar.

This was made by black people.

Also, if you really look at it, every single person in the movie that was ever a hood or a villain was dark. This ranged from Full Force as the three bullies from the school, who when denied access to the house party, attempt to SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE.

 Yes. Reread that.

While the other bad guys paled in comparison as far as the acts they committed or attempted to commit, it still needs to be noted that everything bad that was done in the movie was done by a darker skinned person. Kid’s dad, who while understandably (to me now, at least) upset by his son sneaking out to a party, at that time seemed to be a blustering bully who put other people’s children down with aplomb, and seemed to either be drunk or on the verge of a diabetic coma, was played by Robin Harris. Harris is a dark skinned man. Chill, the kid who kept kicking the table Bilal was DJing at? Dark skinned. Groove, the kid who got drunk to the point of passing out and had to be taken home by Kid? Dark skinned.

Kid and Sydney get to a point where they are about to have sex, after Kid was shot down by Sherrane’s teasing ass. They have this part where after things get hot and heavy, Kid doesn’t have a condom, so they stop. He doesn’t want to have kids, and he doesn’t want to be irresponsible. Good for you, Kid!

 But Rashanii, you say, this is only one movie! This doesn’t prove anything!


 House Party 2. Same characters, same roles. Those have all been established. Now Kid has gone on to college, along with Sydney. They are on their way to doing great their freshman year until Kid realizes that Play has caused him to not have the tuition check to pay for his classes. Silly irresponsible darkie! And while we are discussing character growth, whatever happened to Sherrane? Well, I guess they had already established her as a ho, so they moved her to the left. She was likely pregnant and on welfare somewhere, drinking coma inducing Kool-Aid.

There are a few notable additions to the cast of House Party 2. Kid’s roommate, Jamal, was a white kid who wanted to be black. He had a heart of gold. Miles, on the other hand, was a duplicitous black man who wanted to steal Sydney’s heart. He took every step possible to try and break her and Kid up, despite the fact that he knew she had a man.

What’s your man got to do with me?

This goes on in every one of their movies. In Class Act, Kid plays Duncan Penderhughes, a nerdy kid from the right side of town. He lives in a mansion with both parents, and he is a genius. Play plays Blade Brown (Blade? Word?), a convict who recently was released from Juvenile Hall and lives in the hood with his mom. He is a bully who forcibly makes Kid do his homework for him or else.

In this movie, once again, the female roles are comprised of light skinned VS dark. Karyn Parsons, who is light skinned, played Ellen, a genius in her own right who lives in a mansion on the good side of town. She quotes Shakespeare and has never done “it”. Clearly, she is a good kid.

Damita, on the other hand, is a hoodrat. She lives in the ghetto in a project, where dudes sit outside her stoop on a ratty couch all day long drinking Ripple. She pops her neck, rolls her eyes, puts her hands on her hips, snaps her lips and sucks her teeth when she is mad, happy, animated, making a point, awake… You get the picture.

Bad guys in this movie? Also dark. Wedge the bully and Mink the drug dealer alike are dark skinned black men.

Another thing that just came to mind? Doug E Doug, who plays Popsicle, is the comedic relief (I guess). He is also dark skinned.

It isn’t just Kid and Play movies, though they are the easiest to pick on.

In Boomerang, Halle Berry plays Angela, a good woman who works with kids, and is looking for true love that she thinks she has found in Marcus. She’s light skinned. Marcus is a dog who is played by Eddie Murphy, who changes his ways after he gets his heart broken by Jacqueline, a player in her own right who is played by Robin Givens, a dark skinned woman.

The loud, obnoxious character in this movie was played by Grace Jones, a dark skinned woman. Yes, I know that Tisha Campbell also played a loudmouth, but that makes her the exception to the rule. Plus, unlike Grace, she didn’t pull off her panties in a meeting or scream out that her date was gay in a restaurant.

That is four different movies, all made primarily for black audiences, that have the same stereotypes. But at least 3 of them have a connecting piece. How is House Party associated with Boomerang?

Reginald Hudlin wrote both the House Party series, and the movie Boomerang.

 Then he went and worked at BET, a company who many people tend to think only shows the worst of black people.

 Does Reginald hate black people? Is it a deep seated issue?

 These are the questions…

A Podcaster’s Manifesto in 2012

So here's where I am today: Sitting alone, waiting for my wife to wake up, and continuously checking my email and Skype to see if anyone has left me an email or voicemail for my show.


Let me start from the beginning.


I am the host of Single Simulcast and Sin & Solace. I know I say that a lot, but in all honesty, I am proud of the work that I have done, of the shows that I produce, and I want others to know about them. Anyways (they are both on iTunes and on Stitcher) I am doing a feedback show the day before my birthday. I am thrilled to have the opportunity to do one, but at the same time, I am petrified of the results. I don't limit people's thoughts, you see. Any feedback will be read, listened to, and accounted for. That is what my show is. It is a limitless well of thoughts that come from my head. Some amuse, some contradict, and some fail miserably. I know that, and I figure that the people who listen know that as well.


At least I think they do.


I have been doing my shows for seven months now, and at the end of each show, I have always asked for feedback on iTunes, or wherever else reviews could be left. Comments on the show? Leave a voicemail. At first, it was spoken with an air of confidence, because I knew that with all the work that I had put in, my listeners would want to interact with me. They would want to let their feelings be known. Hey, it wasn't like I was asking for money or anything (even though I did do that once or twice, mostly for Extra Life, but I stopped doing it because asking other people for their money just made me feel dirty), I was just asking for feedback. Interaction. A conversation.


What I got instead was an alarming truth.


People are myopic. And in most cases, lazy as fuck.


I have a voicemail number that I pay for that has only been used twice. I have gotten exactly two emails about the show. I did a live show once on Vokel, and advertised it for a week. No one showed up for the first hour. Three people showed up overall.


It sucks to know what people really think about the hard work that we do in our shows. Obviously, they have this idea that we just wake up, turn on the microphone, and in 2 minutes, we have an hour worth of content ready to amuse them. Or that Sin and Solace just materializes when I go to sleep. Obviously, neither is true. But I have to believe that is why even though we ask for it, no one gives feedback. My friend Bokeen from Consumption Junction just did a feedback show a few weeks ago. No one called in except for one woman. I was jealous that he had one person calling in, because that is greatly going to trump the silence-fest that is scheduled for my show in January.


I think our society has lost it's way. We do not acknowledge the works of others, we expect it. We do not thank people for what they have done for us, we ask for seconds. I do a show just for the amusement of the world, and get told it is too long for your tastes. Can I slim it down. Can I cut it back.


When I ask the people "Can you leave feedback" though?




Stop being lazy. We work hard for no pay just to amuse you for a few minutes. We put something out in the world and then HOPE that you like it. 98 percent of listeners will never leave feedback. They just listen, laugh and move on. While we appreciate you listening, you are the definition of the problem. You listen to the show, hear something that you don't agree with, and move on. Or you hear something that makes you laugh uproariously, chuckle for a while, and move on. Who does that help in the long run? For me, if I never get feedback on a skit that I wrote, I just move on. If I think it was funny, I may do a sequel, but by and large, I am operating in a vacuum.


Here is the thing. In 2012, I am no longer living in a vacuum. My show, Single Simulcast is no longer a one man entity. I need your help. I need your feedback. I need to know that people are hearing my thoughts. And here's another thing: I do appreciate all the people who live-tweet the show, your thoughts as things happen on the show. I go back and read all of them. But Twitter notes are like the smallest crab leg. They provide some sweetness, but not enough sustenance to be much more than a teaser. Take those thoughts, save them up, and call the show. Leave an email.


Look, I can't say that I am the best listener I know, but in my opinion, I'm pretty damn close. I leave reviews for shows on iTunes to show my support. I leave voicemails and emails for shows. I've even donated, although that was a one time thing, because really, I didn't really like giving my money away for something free.


Just keeping it 100.


Look. My email address is [email protected] My voicemail number is (916) 226-9160. I am having a  feedback show on 1/17/12. Please call in. Even if it is to wish me a happy birthday, please call in. Because I am positive that if I do this show, and I get absolutely NO feedback, I will be devastated.


Let's try and be more interactive with our favorite shows this year. Let's strive to close the gap between host and listener in 2012.


As always, thanks for reading, and for listening. I greatly appreciate both.




Rashanii is the host of Single Simulcast and Sin and Solace. Both shows can be found at, iTunes, the Zune Marketplace, and Stitcher Radio.

#BasedRusty’s Complete Caillou

Look. I fucking hate Caillou. That isn't a joke. The kid is whiny, and I'm pretty sure he is borderline retarded. Plus, he treats his friends like shit. But one thing I do like about Caillou is Based Rusty's Complete Caillou Collection. This is the preeminent Calliou set, so be sure to download it now. And remember, Caillou is a horrible child. If I met a kid named Caillou, I'd be tempted to kick his parents ass. If he was old enough, he'd catch one, too. I mean. Look at the boy. He looks like a damn science experiment. And what's with his clothes? Dude is going to be an adult bedwetter. Just wait and see.  Anyways, enjoy!

Click here to download.

Sports Sex Sneakers Episode 9: Rockin With Sherry

This is an episode from @TrojanScooter's excellent podcast, Sports, Sex and Sneakers. Please check out his website to read his blog and go to to check out his show.
In this episode, I am joined by Sherry from Scarcasm Live. We discuss The Wire, college football, cartoons, and whether or not cops can be happy and do a great at the same time. We nerded out about music, her love of the 80s and 90s. Check out her show at and while you're there join and hang out with some awesome gamers and podcasters. Follow her on Twitter @SherrysJoy.
Can't Touch This-M.C. Hammer
Cocaine-Eric Clapton