Monthly Archives: March 2013

Two Types of Lovers

I always say that in love, there are two types of lovers:  Givers and Receivers.

Are there levels in between? I think so. Just as there are those on the far right and far left of this balance. But most people, in my observation, as either Givers or Receivers.

Giver–likes to do for his or her mate. Not just material stuff, but the one who does most of the initiating for sex, for affection, gifts, compliments. This person is often confused with being the one who is “more” in love than the other. But Givers are also the one who most likely will leave a relationship. Givers generally do not ask for what they want. Givers are preoccupied with what they can do to keep and impress their mates, while Receivers, their opposite, are preoccupied with what their mates can do for them.

Receiver–like being “done”. Likes to receive the attention, asks for stuff in the relationship more than the other, seems to be the less affectionate one, seems to be less attentive, less involved, and always gets accused of being uninterested. Receivers have no problem asking for what they want, and are prone to asking for too much. They are not bothered by inconveniencing their mate, and rarely take into account how their mate feels about something because the receiver wants it. Receivers are huge on communication, since it’s important that they let their mate know what they want, but contrary to what they believe–receivers almost never hear what their mates communicate. Most likely to get dumped.

In a relationship or marriage, roles can be reversed. For whatever reason, someone who is normally a Giver may shut down and refuse to give, and take the role of the receiver. It could be out of pain of a past relationship. It could be “retaliation” for some hurt that a past lover inflicted, so the natural Giver is determined not to “give” too much of himself/herself again. It could be out of fear or caution. It could also be a reward for being a “good” woman or man in previous relationships, they feel like Hell, spoil ME for a change. Likewise for the Receiver who ends up being the older mate in a relationship, or the more prosperous one, or perhaps they fall in love harder than in previous marriages, and they want to show the mate the kind of love they normally liked to receive in their past.

And we have the extremes. I call them the True Giver or the True Receiver. The True Giver is one who gives so much of himself or herself, they lose their identity in the relationship and even give up their own desires in the relationship. Things they usually want in the relationship are forgotten, or they convince themselves that they really don’t want it because their mate won’t give it. So rather than face the reality that they are unequally yoked, or that their mate is disappointing (even hurting) them, they pretend not to care just in the name of keeping their mate, and keeping them happy. True Givers will not say what they want, even deny what they want because they don’t want to be refused by their mates. True Givers expect their mates to be mind-readers. They will say what they like and dislike once–and then never ask again. After all, I am here to please you. So tell me what you want, baby, I love you…. And that shit gets old. If the True Giver is never heard, someone will come along and talk sense into the True Giver’s ear and make the True Giver feel that they are being taken advantage of or that their mate is ungrateful. True Givers only appear to not want anything; they are easy to take advantage of, and easy to take for granted.

On the opposite end, we have the True Receiver. The True Receiver–and I have only had the misfortune of being with one once–appears to be perhaps the most selfish person you can meet. The True Receiver only focus on their wants, and almost never thinks about the feelings of their mates. Even if their mates share their desires, the True Receiver has no problem saying “absolutely not”, and refuse the request. Anything asked of the True Receiver is an inconvenience or seems either unreasonable or outrageous. The True Receiver is motivated by pleasure–having fun, feeling important, receiving attention, and feeling wanted. They are the kind who overtakes conversations, cuts their mates off in disagreements, loses their tempers, and threatens to leave. The True Receiver feels as if their mate should be happy to have them, and expect their mates to suppress desires in order to give them what they want. True Receivers are great communicators, and do not hold back feelings, unlike their opposite–who hold back so much, they have nearly a paranoid view of everything they think they see. The True Receiver’s compliments and gifts seem extra special to their mates, because they rarely give them, and in relationships, the True Receiver give pleasure because they have the power to seduce their mates by the mixture of pleasure and pain. Being so self-focused, even when the True Receiver is madly in love, their mates rarely know it and they are prone to being cheated on or dumped because their mates rarely know the deepness of their affections.

In relationships, you must know what kind of person you are and what kind of person your mate is. On top of that, you must also know who is assuming what role in that relationship, regardless of what kind of lover you each naturally are. We have to recognize the signs, talk them out, and learn to read the minds of the mates and decipher what they do and say. Givers seem to be desperate and needy. Receivers seem to be selfish. But the opposite could be true. Receivers could be self-involved because of past experience and they do so as a reward for themselves for past “good behavior”. Givers may give attention and gifts in the effort to force their mates to control them or be indebted to them. Knowing the kind of mate you have will tell you how to manage them and their style of loving you. Knowing yourself will help you modify your own actions so that you do not sabotage your relationship.

And you know, there must be a Part II, Part III and whatever else comes to mind. Stay tuned y’all!

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The Death of the Black Wife

dont want no man

 

 

Yup that’s pretty much how it works. Our Black women seem to be the only ones pulling this shit. Yes, you have a job. Yes, you have your own things. But you are the LEAST likely women to land a husband (hell not even a Black man) and you act like you’re okay with that. Something is terribly wrong, my sisters. Lose that stupid pride and create families. This kind of stuff is killing our people.

If only you understood the dynamics of White dominance versus the Black Family. Going all the way back to slavery, Black families were kept apart, either by design or convenience, but because of the nature of chattel slavery the family was not a sacred institution. It was not respected. The slave master, if he wanted, could come out to the slave quarters and fuck your wife. As a man, you could do nothing about it. If he wanted, he could sell your husband to another plantation. If he had “good genes”–aka, large and strong and smart–he was rented out to other plantations to breed with the women of those plantations. Yes, my sisters, your husband was sent to other plantations (for a fee) to fuck other women. And worse than all of this:  If you had strong, healthy children, your children would be sold.

Let me jump in for a second. There exists in the Black community some rules some of our non-Black friends may not understand. If you are Black and southern you know this very well. Black children are kept close to the hip when around White folks. Children in general are inquisitive, they like to explore and learn. They are often mischievous, and Black children are no different. But go to Walmart, and see how violently Black mothers are to keep their kids in line around “company”.

Boy, if you don’t bring your ass over here I am going to beat your fucking ass. GET over here! Don’t touch a damned thing. You better not break nothing, they gone GET you!

You know what I’m talking about. We all have heard it. “They gone get you!” What is that?

Yes, when Black children are not controlled, stoic and anything short of a nuisance, any White man or woman–even those who are not your Master–had a legal right to abuse your child worse than any dog. Thing of the past you say? Do you know what happens to Black kids who are away from their parents when they act up?

emmitt till casket

This boy was 14 years old. His crime, whistling at an attractive White woman. Ask any of your Black friends, we all know the story.

But some other rules:

  • Telling our girls how not to get raped–as well as how to GET raped. Yes, how to “get” raped. By the time a girl is 11 or 12, we are already telling our daughters to hide their breasts and other body parts. And when they come (not “if”, but “when”), don’t fight them; it will only be worse. In some parts of the country, Black mothers don’t let their daughters out of sight.
  • Telling boys not to resist, talk back to, or to be overly polite–to police. We are told never to reach for a wallet too quickly without getting permission from a police officer.
  • Detaching from children, and not allowing them to be too affectionate with us. It weakens them, we think. Plus, we need to prepare the children we don’t truly own who could possibly be taken from us for when that day comes. If our kids are attached like your children are attached to you, it hurts more when they are sold–or jailed, or killed.
  • Telling our sons that in order to be seen as equal, they must be three times better than the White kids. Black boys are extra competitive for this reason, even in modern times. We are so used to being discriminated and discarded, we must guard against it by being extra valuable. On the plantation, the hardest working slaves didn’t get beaten. If a slave was more productive than the rest, a beating takes days, sometimes weeks, to recover. That’s lost production on the farm. Or the job. We can’t stand this nigger acting like that Black law school he attended makes him just as good as we are… But damn, we can’t afford to fire him. This is the reality Black men live with every day.
  • The use of a whipping as a form of discipline. Yeah, it’s a joke for Black folks–but do you ever wonder why Black people whip their children so much? It’s because it is how we were taught to be disciplined and controlled. But some white folks whup their children, right? The same way Black folks do, right? They do–in southern culture. Imagine where they learned that….

All that to say, that the lessons and ordeals we were forced to live with are still here. It dictates why we are the way we are today. Sure, slavery is over–by generations. But we learn from our parents, and they learned from their parents. And these things have become a part of our culture. Whether you recognize it or not, it exists.

So, when that Black woman says FUCK YOU to her men, I don’t need you, you ain’t shit, I’m better off without you–this is the result of generations of having to do it alone, and much to the delight of her Master–it is a sign that these Black folks are still the inferior people. Hell, this Black bitch (don’t get mad; half of you call yourselves this, and that’s what they called you!) can’t even keep a husband, let alone raise a child properly. Know your history, or you will be doomed to repeat it.

I apologize for the offensive language in this post. But I needed it for you to feel the heat radiating off these lines. Thanks for visiting my blog.

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The Good Ones, by Alice Walker (R.I.P. Hugo Chavez)

I admired this man from a distance. Before I ever knew who Hugo Chavez was, I knew that America hated him. And that fact alone meant that I needed to find out who he was and why this must mean that he was my friend. There is a saying, that the enemy of my enemy is my friend–and this proof of that. As my father once said “Ain’t no VietCong ever called me Nigger.” My father served this military anyway, and did so honorably, because in what bad or evil that you find–there is almost always some good. I have no reason to hate Chavez, so the propaganda that was used as a weapon against my Black brothers, my Muslim family, my Asian mother… has NO effect on me.

So forgive me if I hear the reasons why we should hate Hugo Chavez, and not only do I hear “Because he doesn’t serve our agenda”–I’d like to answer with a big FUCK YOU.

I was in the process of thinking up a poem about Hugo, and I came across this one, penned by the great Alice Walker. I think she did an awesome job, and I am looking forward to God granting me the words to write one of my own.

Either way, enjoy!

The Good Ones

For Hugo Chavez

March 5, 2013

©2013 by Alice Walker

.

The good ones

who listen

to women

to children and the poor

die too soon,

their lives bedeviled

by opposition:

our hearts grieve for them.

This was the world my father knew.

A poor man

he saw good men come and mostly go;

leaving behind

the stranded and bereft.

People of hopes, dreams, and so much

hard work!

Yearning for a future suddenly

foreclosed.

But today

you write me all is well

even though the admirable

Hugo Chavez

has died this afternoon.

Never again will we hear that voice

of reasoned anger

and disgust

of passionate vision

and of triumph.

This is true.

But what a lot he did in his 58 years!

You say.

What a mighty ruckus

Hugo Chavez made!

This is also true.

Thank you for reminding me.

That though life –

this never-ending loop –

has passed us by today

but carried off

in death

a hero

of the masses

it is his spirit

of fiercely outspoken

cariño

that is not lost.

That inheritance

has gone instantly

into the people

to whom he listened

and it is there

that we will expect it

to rise

as early as

tomorrow;

and there

that

we will encounter it

always

soon again.

Hugo Chavez

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Them Dang Poon-Jabs….

In case you hadn’t noticed, I added a few category. It’s duly entitled “Message to the White Man”–for a book I decided to start writing entitled “Message to the White Man in America”. That’s the only teaser I’m going to give you for now; more on this later. This is my first installment on this subject.

What is the number one problem in America? If you’re White, you will probably say the economy. If you’re a person of color, you’ll probably say it’s something domestic and/or socioeconomic. If you’re Black, my money’s on “racism”. So what is the answer?

Sorry, but “all of the above” is not a valid answer. Remember, the question is “What is the number one problem…”  Every nation has problems, but each nation’s problems are rooted in something else. Some nations’ can trace all of their problems to drugs as their root. Some, tyranny. Some are rooted in ethnic violence or disunity. Others are traced to greed or corruption. In America, there is no denying that America’s “Original Sin” is slavery. We have a great design–the combination of the Bill of Rights, our commitment to Democracy, the separation of Church and State, and our system of checks and balances. Yet we still suffer from poverty, economic strife and domestic problems, because at the root of all good in America lies the evil of Chattel, Black Slavery. Our rise to economic growth was based on the fact that unlike the rest of the world, we were able to build our infrastructure and the entire Agricultural and Industrial industries on FREE labor for 400 years. America is a country addicted to cheap or free labor. We were based on having groups of people we were able to oppress:  Slave labor, the acquisition of land from the Native American, the suppression of any voting power of anyone who was not White and male… We owe our greatness to every group of people we ever wronged, and we never truly had to reimburse them for what we took. The War on Terror, for example, is an extension of our addiction to simply taking what we want by force or manipulation and while we now have to pay for labor–we have fooled the American taxpayer into financing it. I could go on.

And foo-foo to those of you who think that “God Blessed America”. Let me remind you what happened when Satan approached Jesus on the mountain:  He said, “Bow to me and all of this will be yours.”  America was at that mountain top, she did Satan’s work with every group of people she ever encountered in the history of this nation, and she was rewarded well. So when you look all around you and you see what looks good:  Wealth, Beauty, Prosperity, Power–know that Satan has his hand in all of it. There is nothing that exists in America that can be called “better” than what is found someplace else that does not come with a heavy price. But more on that later.

When America makes it right–when her people who enjoy the fruits of the evil labor of their ancestors finally acknowledge and make an attempt to right the wrongs–then maybe the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth will finally allow us to enjoy what we’ve built without having to look over our shoulders.

That said, I have a theory. Racism today exists not in the form of epithets and vile hatred and commitment to violence like we’ve had in the past. It exists today in the form of mild feelings that we can mask and deny (or not even notice), in soft discrimination, in comments we make and passive-aggressive acts and feelings, and in the form of resentment.

A few years back, I had a business in Yuba City, California, about an hour north of Sacramento. I went to see a shopping center in the area and waited for the owner, who is an older East Indian man named Mr. J. Mr. J had an interesting history. He arrived here dirt poor, without his family, who was still in India. He was staying with friends in Los Angeles but could not find a job in those days, because as he put it–he was so dark that they “treated him like a Black man, only worse–even worse than a Mexican.”  A man he met was recruiting laborers for a farmer who did not want to hire illegals. He was providing a free place to live and a certain amount of money. He sold off the few belongings he had, paid the recruiter for the job lead, and took a bus to Yuba City where he was hired right away.

He turned out to be just a few notches above a slave. He was paid very little, and out of that, had to pay for his lodging, his food, and was fined for everything they “did wrong”. He sent money home to his wife, paid off his debt to his employer, and saved enough money to finally leave the farm. He took a job with a restaurant, and one thing led to another, and he bought a house. He brought his family to America, educated his children, opened an alterations shop and laundry… soon the man owned property all over Northern California, including a restaurant, a fabric store, a convenience store, and a few retail centers–including the one I put my business in. Along the way, he helped many men of White, Black and Hispanic descent get on their feet and  improve their lives. God, my friends, blessed this man.

So, while I’m waiting for Mr. J, a young White man in his late 20s came out of the liquor store near my space-to-be and asked if I was planning to open a business there. Yes, I answered. He asked what I would open, and after some questioning he gathered the courage to question my ethnicity. I answered that I was Black and Filipino. He told me, in a low, resentful voice:  Good, because them goddang poon-jabs are buying up everything.

Racist.

I had about ten minutes to take this young man to school.

But not today, we’ll have a part II to this article. But let me say this. Racism has taken on a new form, and if you’re not in the know–you wouldn’t even know it was there. You might even discover that you may harbor some racism yourself. Economic hardship and a little genetic engineering (or biological warfare, depending on how you look at it) has caused this centuries-old disease to fester and linger in this country. This category is to diagnose and help you find a cure.

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to the Iraqi mother

come

i must do it again, that natural primal inclination

(after all, she is a woman)

toes stiffen, fists curled, spine shivers, eyes rolled to the back of her head

last time, the tears overflowed like the Euphrates, endlessly

still young; plenty of time—they say, but her empty womb echoes a story

lowers her with a kiss as they bid her:

“come…”

“to the Iraqi mother”

2013

iraqi mother

In honor of a woman I saw interviewed whose second child in two years (? can’t remember the span) was killed via Iraqi “liberation” by our forces. The woman next to her was telling her she was still young enough to have another child. She broke from the interview to say, “I DID have another child!”

By the way, the picture is not of that mother, but it is real. Thanks to our belief that non-American lives are worth less than a gallon of oil–or sweet no-bid contracts–there  is no shortage of mothers losing their children we can put up to illustrate. It is a damn shame, that God, the All-knowing, Merciful One that He is, created Woman to bring gifts into the world, but men, who are her designated protectors, use the power of free will to take them away. When will we learn? (if you want to know more about her, the woman’s name is Wafaa Hussein. Her child was 6 when he was hit by a sniper:  READ MORE HERE)

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In Honor of Women’s History Month…

I am going to attempt to…. (drum rolls)

Pen 20 poems in honor or women.

#thatisall

 

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