Random thoughts: Is the lip bone somehow connected to the booty bone? Nowadays, it sure seems so, judging by the common pucker-over-the-shoulder pose — on the faces of little girls to grandmothers — with their posteriors poked out and emblazoned across social media. Just a random thought.
Here’s another: If you pose your little boy as a Lil’ G — wearing a fitted cap turned sideways, sagging pants and mean mugging for the camera while clutching a fistful of dollars — why not go ahead and have him climb in a casket or stand behind steel bars and complete this picture?
Just my random thoughts… What we used to be ashamed of, we now glorify. What we once deemed abnormal has become the aspiration for many young men: To get a girl pregnant. To catch a first case. To get a first gun.
Woman meets man. Moves him in with her children. Barely even knows his name. Child turns up missing. Murdered. Molested. Brutalized. Beaten.
And I wonder: What manner of man hangs out, getting drunk and smoking blunts all day, has time for everything and everybody else, but neglects his own children? Random thoughts…
Our politicians are more crooked than a dog’s hind legs. They skim off the top cream meant for the poor, live as elitists. Tried, convicted and time served, we re-elect them. And we wonder why our communities never get any better.
I am left scratching my head over why Sister Dr. Afrostocracy and Brother-Professor Kwanzaa Intelligentsia keep looking to the “white man” for what we ourselves have the power to do: Raise our children. Take back our communities.
I wonder why we African Americans still haven’t gotten beyond the color line. Why we remain color-struck and our children form light-skinned clubs. Why we separate by shades. Inspect each other’s hair for its grade.
Why our youth aspire to become rappers and pro athletes. Why so many parents promote this pipedream rather than education.
In 30 years, I can’t help but notice we’ve gone from Clair Huxtable to Olivia Pope — from professional working mother and wife to presidential sidepiece. And that we celebrate this devolution with Thursday night wine-and-cheese parties in scandalous glory.
I wonder why we black men seem to be the only ones who publicly, unflinchingly, refer to their women by denigrating names like trick, hood rat, chicken head or, lately, as a “THOT” (meaning That Ho Over There).
I take inventory of million-dollar school districts run by African-American administrators and wonder why our children still can’t read.
Just random thoughts…
Why are so many churches strapped with million-dollar debt to pass on to our children’s children, as the poor languish, even as the church rejoices in “liberty”?
I have seen drug dealers do business near the church’s front doors. And I wonder, “How can so much darkness coexist with so much so-called light?”
I wonder why some preachers remain deaf, blind, mute and impotent — complicit — while their brethren prey on the sheep. Prophet-lying rather than prophesying. Dealing spiritual dope instead of depositing a transforming hope.
It all just makes me wanna holler, throw up my hands.
Except, I can’t afford to.