Debra J. Dickerson
DEBRADICKERSON.COM
Enable, Apologize Much?
Lord, let my people go!
Via John Schwade: Whoever this J. Cole person is, he's dragged an entire city's black community into the gutter with him. His new video is yet another new low in the kind of wretched rap beleaguering us all.
Monsieur Cole can't rap for more than about four syllables without invoking 'mf's,' 'skank ho's', 'bitches' and all the rest of the minstrelsy that keeps most of us from even attempting to ferret out the worthy rap offerings.
Much worse this time is that the city of Fayetteville, a HBCU, and --unbelievably--- a local high School allowed their vulnerable students to be a part of this filth.
Judge for yourself, but the local columnist cravenly attempting to provide cover for this lowlife (and his attendant child abuse) only makes things worse: "Recently, Fayetteville State University, whose cheerleaders are in the video, and E.E. Smith high school, whose band is featured in the video, publicly blasted the artist for the strong language used in the song. Uh, apparently there was some huge conspiracy in which both schools were entirely unaware of how to operate iTunes, communicate with their staff or students or use Google, leading to their being blindsided by the release of the video."
"Strong language"? OK. That's one way to put it.
My fave from the Neanderthal defending Cole and his use of youngsters to purvey his trash: "We know what you’re thinkin’ “J. Cole, who dat?” … Though your thoughts might have included better use of grammar and pronunciation … Well, sit back and we’ll tell your inquisitive ass."
Nice, isn't it? Especially given his own 'interesting' use of syntax, grammar, punctuation and basic argument: "After all, if the “n-word” is forbidden in a song, how does one apply that to Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, or Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird?"
He's kidding, right?
Sadly, no. There's more: "Does popular art have to have a certain age to it, before it can be protected by freedom of speech? Does obscenity have an expiration date? Is it a matter of subjectivity? Strong language is fine in books we like, but offensive in music that we don’t? Is it fair for teachers to impose their views on what constitutes art on the students?"
Oh dear.
No wonder journalism is dying.
He's right in that the city and both schools should have listened to the lyrics and found out how Cole intended to portray his hometown (think post-Apocalypse, just like all black communities) before refusing to cooperate but - having actually understood Logic 101 - that doesn't make his 'song' worthy of airtime, let alone a municipal stamp of approval.
Methinks a certain 'columnist' is angling for his own record deal. More likely, he's just your basic knuckle dragger confusing his ability to type with an ability to reason. Or employ proper English. Sadly, those never have "a certain age to it".
In Which I Workshop a Scene from Dickens
You know what turns out not to be a scam? All those ads, mall kiosks, and We Buy Gold storefronts you've been seeing. They're legit.
For nearly a year, I've been lugging around all my 'good' jewelry in a big, doubled baggie at the bottom of my purse. Why the hesitation? On the one hand, I couldn't imagine getting more than chump change for the accumulation of a lifetime, so why not keep it for Miss Thing? On the other, disbelief at the prospect of having to do something so downright Dickensian. Something so cliched. Thinking about it actually made me laugh at the ridiculousness of my life. What's next: selling my blood?!
But, last week, the question settled itself; try to sell the bling-baggie or lose my life insurance policy. I've already lost my bar membership with its $300 annual fee. (God knows I'll never pass the exam again but it will cost me $800 each time to try. The ridiculousness of this, too, makes me laugh.) So, consigning my scant finery to the fiery furnace (they melt it all down) is a no-brainer; it comforts me more than I can convey to know I'm worth more to them dead than alive. There is just no way I'll leave them destitute and motherless.
So, they cavorted while I watched "Sue", the sweet young thing below scrape and weigh and just take her work so seriously it broke my heart. 
At 24, she's been married for three years. "Oh no! No kids yet. I said at 25, by that's just six months away..." She paused to collect her thoughts. "You know sometimes? I love him to death but..."
I'm the last person on the planet to give relationship advice, so I just nodded and smiled.
OK, one piece of advice: "Definitely, don't short shrift your friends and family, OK?" Because they'll be the ones picking you up when YOUR MARRIAGE TURNS OUT TO HAVE BEEN A BIG, HUGE, HONKING, SOUL-DESTROYING, YOUTH-STEALING, CAREER-ENDING MISTAKE OF EPIC PROPORTIONS! AND DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT HAVE HIS CHILDREN WHEN YOU'RE STILL HAVING DOUBTS AND IT'S NOT TOO LATE FOR A POST-NUP AND*&^())**&^&_)*&^%^%%%%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!GODDAMN MOTHERFUC*&^%!!!!!!!!!!MAYBE YOU CAN STILL ANNUL?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But, I didn't say that last part. Just the friends and family thing.
She finished her assaying, offered me enough to keep the life insurance for another six months and to see Toy Story III to boot! Yippee!!
So, there was nothing left for it but to wave bye-bye to the Turkish gold bracelets the kids received as baby gifts. The lovely gold earrings my gay boyfriend gave me as a consolation/coming-out prize. The exotic accoutrements I bought myself as I traveled the world in the 80s and 90s. 
Got to keep the scam-bangle from Hydra that turned out to be either not gold, or unsalable as less than 10 carat. Can't remember which.
My Cyprus charm. It clocked in at 18 carats but I decided not to part with it.
This was given to me on a trip from Ankara, Turkey to Cyprus in 1990 or so. I was with a group of extremely ugly Americans who embarrassed me at every turn, and the above boyfriend who was soon to come out as gay . Not a great trip.
So, I peeled off from the both of them and wandered about on my own. An exceedingly handsome young Cypriot owned a charming jewelry shop I wandered into and we just gobsmacked each other. Speechless and staring and blushing; the whole schmear. Finally, he managed to say, "I dreamed last night that an...American woman would...I can't remember all the details now..."
I waited until he stopped stammering, thought of my gay boyfriend back in our room and, with all the Jessica Rabbit I could muster said," I guess that makes me your dream girl."
There was a lot more but the bottom line is: I won't part with my Cyprus charm.
The only remaining question: do I sell my wedding/engagement ring and the jewelry I've only worn at said wedding? How about my wedding dress? They have zero sentimental value to me, but perhaps to my daughter when she's older?
Still jobless, perhaps circumstances will answer those questions for me as well.
For The Fourth of July: A Cheap Shot I Only Pray is True
True Story.....
Luke AFB is west of Phoenix and is rapidly being surrounded by civilization that complains about the noise from the base and its planes, forgetting that it was there long before they were. A certain lieutenant colonel at Luke AFB deserves a big pat on theback. Apparently, an individual who lives somewhere near Luke AFB wrote the local paper complaining about a group of F-16s that disturbed his/her day at the mall.
When that individual read the response from a Luke AFB officer, it must have stung quite a bit.
The complaint:
'Question of the day for Luke Air Force Base:
Whom do we thank for the morning air show? Last Wednesday, at precisely 9:11 A.M, a tight formation of four F-16 jets made a low pass over Arrowhead Mall, continuing west over Bell Road at approximately 500 feet. Imagine our good fortune! Do the Tom Cruise-wannabes feel we need this wake-up call, or were they trying to impress the cashiers at Mervyns early bird special?
Any response would be appreciated.
The response:
Regarding 'A wake-up call from Luke's jets' On June 15, at precisely 9:12 a.m., a perfectly timed four- ship fly by of F-16s from the 63rd Fighter Squadron at Luke Air Force Base flew over the grave of Capt. Jeremy Fresques. Capt Fresques was an Air Force officer who was previously stationed at Luke Air Force Base and was killed in Iraq on May 30, Memorial Day.
At 9 a.m. on June 15, his family and friends gathered at Sunland Memorial Park in Sun City to mourn the loss of a husband, son and friend. Based on the letter writer's recount of the fly by, and because of the jet noise, I'm sure you didn't hear the 21-gun salute, the playing of taps, or my words to the widow and parents of Capt. Fresques as I gave them their son's flag on behalf of the President of theUnited States and all those veterans and servicemen and women who understand the sacrifices they have endured..
A four-ship fly by is a display of respect the Air Force gives to those who give their lives in defense of freedom. We are professional aviators and take our jobs seriously, and on June 15 what the letter writer witnessed was four officers lining up to pay their ultimate respects.
The letter writer asks, 'Whom do we thank for the morning airshow? The 56th Fighter Wing will make the call for you, and forward your thanks to the widow and parents of Capt Fresques, and thank them for you, for it was in their honor that my pilots flew the most honorable formation of their lives.
Only 2 defining forces have ever offered to die for you....Jesus Christ and the American Soldier. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.
Lt. Col. Grant L. Rosensteel, Jr.
USAF
OK. So I'm a Reactionary Throwback, Just Like the Kind Of Parents Y'all Rebelled Against in the '60s
One intrepid reader has already called me on my kneejerk reaction to Miss Thing's choice of reading material.
Fortunately, advanced readers though they both kids are, she's no where near advanced enough to get through Leave it to Cleavage, so I may give it back to her. If she asks. "Reading' five chapters in about 30 seconds was my first clue. But the basic question remains: do I stick to my guns and let them read anything at all or do I....can't think of any Orwell-speak for this....censor their reading?
How do the rest of y'all navigate these potentially treacherous waters?
I can just imagine their second and fourth grade teachers this fall calling Child Protective when they start quoting from the Tropic of Cancer....
HELP?????!!!!!
In Which I Back Off From Yet Another Promise to the Kids, Self
A book worm from the word go, I always swore I'd never censor my kids' reading choices. I read a great many books as a youngster that I should never have been allowed to (God's Little Acre and Of Human Bondage come to mind). But, if it came from the library, my parents paid no mind; I turned out fine, right? So, no censorship.
Then I took the kids to get our Georgia library cards yesterday. Lefty bee-lined for the computer, Miss Thing for the stacks. Busy with paperwork at the desk, I looked over to find her smiling with contentment, her face stuffed in a book. She'd piled at least 10 more on the table beside her chair and stroked them absently as she read. Beaming as only a proud mother can, I must have snapped at least ten cell cam photos.
But must be thorough, right? I finished getting our new cards, then came over to get a good close up of the book making her so happy. Here it is:
So. Censorship it is.
P.S. The pouting won out, so I let Miss Thing check this garbage out, planning all the while to 'lose' it once we got home. But no worries, after teasing me relentlessly for Miss Thing's book choices, Skippy spirited it off to her bedroom lair to enjoy at her leisure.
It's Good to Be White
According to HuffPo Chinese companies are hiring white guys just to sit around being white.
Reminds me of Louis CK's 
hilarious ode to whiteness.
hilarious ode to whiteness.
If You're Divorced, Turn It Into a Sitcom
NYT : " Louis C. K.’s routine mostly take a wickedly scatological look at life after divorce — raising children, dating and aging — but his delivery is low key and even diffident. He is funniest as a stand-up when he takes a step away from his bawdy comic riffs to poke holes ruefully in his own discourse.
"On one episode of “Louie,” he is onstage delivering a disquisition about having sex with animals. “I really think if I was alone on the earth, no other humans, I would have sex with a monkey in like two minutes.” He stops, and laughs scoffingly, not at zoophilia, but at his time allowance. “Two minutes,” he snorts. “That’s really not long enough to be sure you are alone on the earth.”...
"On the pilot episode Louie is a volunteer chaperon on his daughter’s field trip to the New York Botanical Garden and gets into a Larry Davidish confrontation with an incompetent bus driver. The bus gets stuck in Harlem, and Louie, worried about the neighborhood, makes the children change seats so the darkest ones are next to the window."
Wonder why he got divorced....
If You're Divorcing, GET OFF SOCIAL NETWORKING SITES
Associated Press: Facebook Tops In On Line Evidence in Divorce
"Oversharing on social networks has led to an overabundance of evidence in divorce cases. The American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers says 81 percent of its members have used or faced evidence plucked from Facebook, MySpace, Twitter and other social networking sites, including YouTube and LinkedIn, over the last five years."...
Examples:
"_ Husband goes on Match.com and declares his single, childless status while seeking primary custody of said nonexistent children.
_ Husband denies anger management issues but posts on Facebook in his "write something about yourself" section: "If you have the balls to get in my face, I'll kick your ass into submission."
_ Father seeks custody of the kids, claiming (among other things) that his ex-wife never attends the events of their young ones. Subpoenaed evidence from the gaming site World of Warcraft tracks her there with her boyfriend at the precise time she was supposed to be out with the children. Mom loves Facebook's Farmville, too, at all the wrong times.
_ Mom denies in court that she smokes marijuana but posts partying, pot-smoking photos of herself on Facebook."
Bottom line: don't make it any easier for the bottom feeding lawyers out there. They're not all bottom feeders (my two weren't). Just most.
Alphabet Soup, by Susan Orlean
Think being a fancy author and journalist is glamorous? Think again. Even the great Meryl-Streep-Starred-In-My-Movie Susan Orlean can't figure the publishing world out anymore.
Great. The URL insertion thingee is on the fritz again, AARRRGH: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/susanorlean/
Get Over It! Folks Get Divorced, So Here's One Way to Deal
Crushed wedding rings from a divorce ceremony.
And here's a lovely little essay from a survivor of a bitter divorce on why the divorce ceremony wudda worked for her.