Great Moments in the Life of a Black Man in America

Admittedly, it’s rough being a black man in America these days. Incarceration continues to skyrocket. Unemployment figures are still quite unfavorable for us as a demographic. Death by cop, as tragic as it continues to be, is still somehow increasingly fashionable. You know, like skinny jeans. These days, seemingly everything is stacked against us. Being a black woman is worse, I can assume. But since I’m not one of those, I defer that story to them to tell, promising to be an ally where I can…but to ultimately shut up and let those womenfolk speak for themselves.

The purpose of this piece, however, isn’t to wallow in misery and to itemize the calamities we face. Instead, we here over at the Unmitigated Word will discuss the numerous instances and circumstances where being a black man in America is freakin’ awesome. And, yes, we do have our moments.

1. When we greet other brothas vocally

We’ve all been there. We know how it goes. Hell, there’s an entire chapter’s worth of content on greetings and salutations that we can extract from the Black Man Standard Practice Handbook (It’s that’s not a thing yet, it should be). The following interaction is but a mere sample of what you could find:

Black Man 1: Yo, wassup?

Black Man 2: Aw man. You got the best hand!

BM 1: I can’t even call it.

BM 2: Just tryin’ to make it out here. How’s the J-O-B?

BM 1: You know. Workin’ for the man to pay the man.

BM 2: I feel you. Another day, another dolla.

BM 1: What about you, fam? What you gettin’ into these days?

BM 2: You know, everything is everything. I’m still here.

BM 1: Bruh, you ain’t never lied!

BM 2: Alright, playa pimp. Stay up!

BM 1: Yessir! Be easy, breezy!

…this could go on for about another hour and both men would be good with that. And if you really want to connect with another brotha, spend your time trying to one up each other on compliments:

BM 1: “I see you doin’ it big! Rockin’ a tie and all!”

BM 2: “Naw, man! It’s your world!”

Again, that can go on for weeks at a time.

2. When we greet other brothas silently

If it’s true that a picture is worth a thousand words, certain communicative practices can be worth two thousand of them joints. Sometimes, you can bypass the lengthy exchange of black pleasantries by doing something simple, yet effective: a subtle nod of the head. Nods are a cultural gesture than defy all the standard rules of communications. It’s one of the only expressions in the history of the world which needs no commentary. I mean, if you want  to follow that up with a “What’s up?”, you can. But truth be told, it’s not necessary. Merely 2-3 seconds worth of eye contact and a nod is all you need in order to tell another brotha (whether you know him or not) that everything is fine, nobody’s been shot by the police, and Trump hasn’t deported your family to Congo. It’s important to note though: you have to nod upward. Nodding downward is a whole ‘nother conversation.

3. Code switching

The ability for us to code switch in front of others as they watch in fascination is worth its weight in gold.

True story: not too long ago I was walking across campus to a meeting with some of my white co-workers. During our walk, I ran into one of the other few black male employees on campus. We greeted each other with the handshake/hug combo (which is covered extensively in the “Handshake” chapter of the Black Man Standard Practice Handbook), along with some of the commonly-used greeting lines I mentioned early. For the briefest of moments, we shared a thing. He knew what I said. I knew what he said. Nobody else had a clue what was going on. They didn’t know we were saying “Yeah, racism sucks. Be a good role model to young black men. Don’t disrespect black women. Oh, and don’t get shot by the police.” It was like we were temporarily in a country all our own.

Oh, and please note: this phenomenon isn’t unique to just Rollo ‘Nem. No, sir. As Key and Peele point out in the sketch below, this is goes all the way up to the White House:

I won’t lie. Sometimes having to code switch is rough. But other times, it’s bloody amazing!

4. Being unexpectedly nerdy

Not that I should care what strangers think about me, but I get a small sense of satisfaction when people are shocked to realize that I, as a black man from apparently the most dangerous city in the Milky Way Flint, can do or say things they’d never expect to come out of the mouth of somebody like me.

Example:

White Friend (with strangers within an earshot): Did you catch Game of Thrones last night?

Me: Of course! I particularly love how last night’s episode thoroughly examined the concepts of duty, politics, and valor in Westerosi society and how those dueling concepts create negative consequences for members of House Lannister. By the way, wanna get down on some of this hummus?

After that, I sit back and enjoy the cognitive melee I created in that stranger’s mind.

5. Excessively celebratory reactions to otherwise insignificant events

Speaking of GoT, one of my favorite past times of late has been watching reaction videos to various scenes from the show. My favorite was the compilation of people reacting to Jon Snow’s true identity (spoilers ahead, if you click on the link). Now, imagine that playing out somewhere involving a bunch of black folks. Huddled around during a rap battle. Playing spades. At church when the band is having a jam session. The way we celebrate these meaningless things (meaningless in the grand scheme of things, anyway) is worthy of discussion. For example, this video of predominately black NBA players reacting is priceless:

6. When your blackness is an instant cure for somebody else’s attitude

Another true story: I used to live in Grand Blanc, an affluent suburb outside of Flint. One day (during a time of my unenlightened youth), I accidentally cut a guy off in traffic. It was my fault, I freely admit. I didn’t commit the violation maliciously or intentionally. I simply didn’t see the guy. Well, he didn’t take it lightly. He rode my tail for a few miles; making every turn I made, riding my bumper unnervingly close, and did so all while cussing and gesturing at me. Finally being annoyed enough to do something about it, I did a hard brake in a Walmart parking lot. I put the car in park, got out, yelled “What the **** is your problem” (or something to effect) as I walked toward his car. I don’t think he expected me to take it that far. He sped away.

I can’t be sure, but I think the site of an angry and unafraid black man scared the road rage out of him. Now to be sure, we live in very dangerous times and this could’ve escalated into something far worse; especially if he had a weapon. But for that moment, I stuck my chest out in pride for using nothing but my blackness to cure this dude’s debilitating bout with road rage.

Fits with road rage aside, this can really apply to any surrounding. Sure, you have more and more people emboldened by a certain president. But mostly, you have people ready to get all in your face until they see the complexion of said face.

7. Public transportation riders generally leave us alone

I didn’t figure this one out until I started visiting larger cities like Chicago and New York. You see, in my hometown, I don’t use public transportation. And we don’t have a subway system. So when it came to personally experiencing some of those infamous tales of public transportation, I was a bit of a novice. But now, as a pretty seasoned public traveler in those cities, I’m growing increasingly confident of one universal truth: public transportation passengers don’t mess with black people. While everybody else is trying like hell to avoid making eye contact with that one dude using his shoe as a phone to order ho cakes, I sit back in confidence knowing that he won’t think to come my way. Personally think it’s a combination of him knowing that I’m too broke to finance his entertainment and him telepathically knowing that – as a black man – we’re connected by our struggles; causing him to move on to the next person. Whatever the reason, I’m generally off the hook.

8. The fresh feeling of getting a haircut

Sitting in a barber chair, getting scratched to death in the face by your barber’s unnaturally sharp clippers, listening to your stomach growl as your guy downs a two-piece with hot sauce (while magically still being able to give you the cleanest line the world has ever seen), and trying to desperately to secure your manhood by not wincing when he douses you with rubbing alcohol (newsflash: alcohol doesn’t put out fires. It spreads them. Sayin’). We all know the suffering that comes from a standard barbershop experience. But the next day? After you’ve had a day to let your fresh cut settle in? Money.

9. Getting gold star treatment from a brotha in customer service

My wife and I visited Chicago twice in a span of about 6 months. Each time, we wound up staying at the same place. Why? Because of a brotha named ********** (yeah, right! Like I’m going to share our dude with you!). When we arrived, he gave us the ultimate hookup. He upgraded our room each time while also giving us his family and friends discount. He called us several times a day during his shift to make sure things were going well with us, allowed us to stay a few hours past our checkout time so we could see more of the city, and gave us a follow-up call when we got back home. As a reminder, we’d never met this dude before in our lives prior to visiting for the first time.

This isn’t exclusive to hotel service. Restaurants, cell phone companies, auto supply stores. Whenever I visit an establishment and see a brotha behind the counter, I whisper a silent word of thanks to God.

All this being said, be of good cheer black men. It’s not all bad for us. Accentuate the positive, I always say.

-ACL

 

 

10 Life Lessons Gained From Saved by the Bell

If you’re a 90’s brat like I was, there wasn’t a Saturday morning that went by when you weren’t tuned in to Saved by the Bell. I’m a grown man of thirtysomething, and you’ll still catch me occasionally watching syndicated re-runs. It’s an experience that sincerely shaped my childhood, as I suspect it did many of yours. As such, there were some important lessons I learned from watching this show for years. There are several other blog authors out there who share the life lessons they acquired from the show. Here are mine:

1. If you love it enough, an eating establishment can turn you into an uncompromising activist. The gang had the Max. I have Jimmy John’s. I can bet any amount of money if JJ’s was set to close like the Max was, I’d do anything (including, but not limited to, doing a telethon and inviting my World Civilizations teacher to relive his glory days from the 1960’s) to save it. If my activism fell short, I’d rely on Slater to swoop in and save the day with a motivational speech. If he wasn’t available, I’d try D. West.

2. Caffeine is deadly. Far worse than alcohol, coke, or crack, the properties in caffeine will cause users to lose their minds. As a recovering Starbucks ice coffee addict (one day at a time), I know. I’ve seen the lines wrapped around the corner. I’ve seen the people pulling tricks for their score (maybe not alley sex, but definitely something soul compromising. Especially with the people who are “regulars”). I’ve seen the people use code names for their drinks to throw the cops off. If The Wire had “blue tops”, “Pandemic”, and “WMDs”, Starbucks has “non-fat, grande, soy chai latte with a half shot of espresso and no foam.” Laugh at Jesse all you want, but I’ve seen cats leaving Starbucks singing stuff far worse than “I’m So Excited.”

OK. Maybe not.

3. Corporations should be afraid of animals. Very afraid. If Saved by the Bell has taught me one thing, it’s that animals are Kryptonite to corporations. If they screw over consumers and create financial havok throughout global markets, it’s all good. The government will still bail them out. If they engage in inhumane child labor practices, everything is dandy on our end as long as their prices stay low for us. But messing around with animals? Oh, it’s on and poppin’! When Zack held his lifeless duck in his arms as it was victimized by an oil spill, he had a look of vengeance in his eyes that should give any oil tycoon nightmares. After a commercial break’s worth of grieving, he and the gang took on those evil tycoons. In the ultimate David vs. Goliath story, they successfully put an end to Bayside’s corporate takeover, and did do far more effectively than any DC lobbyist, SEC official, politician, or Supreme Court justice ever could. All they needed were a few oil derrick models, a can of oil to “accidentally” spill on folk, and a clever closing argument.

4. College admissions are a joke. Zack Morris, who was actually one credit short of even graduating high school, was somehow still able to get accepted to Yale. His ridiculously high SAT score – earned with Powerball-level luck no doubt – got him into an Ivy League school while Jesse’s flawless high school record couldn’t even land her in an Ivy League school wannabe. But at least she had help from James, their failed actor friend who played the role of a Harvard admissions rep begging her to come to “his” school. Only then did Stansbury realize the mistake they made. To this day, Yale has never owned up to their admissions snafu.

5. It’s absolutely possible to be a likable sociopath. I didn’t think about it much as a kid. But looking at Saved by the Bell from the eyes of an adult, I’m starting to realize that Zack was a monster. But, if you make him a hearthrob for the ladies and guy all other guys want to emulate, it’s easy to overlook (and perhaps even justify) his sociopathic tendencies. I know, we all need help.

6. On the other hand, you can’t entirely blame sociopaths for the gullibility of their victims. Sure, Zack was a con artist and a manipulator even to the people he called his friends. But let’s not allow his dumb-as-a-doorknob victims off the hook either. I mean, who in their right minds would ride a driver’s ed car indoors? What adult (aside from R-Kelly perhaps) would use a pictorial calendar full of underaged girls as the source to find his newest Paris model? Who would really believe that Slater was dying without asking him? Even Screech, who was quite familiar with Zack’s nefarious antics, still went along with every single scheme. In response to one of Zack’s ideas, Screech said “The last time you said that to me I ended up with my tongue stuck to a moving airplane!” If this is a guy you still trust, you deserve whatever he does to you. Sorry, not sorry.

7. Trust your parents on some things. But on other things? Not so much. You should definitely listen to your parents when they preach to you about the importance of not drinking and driving in toga outfits, running up a credit card (where was that advice when I was in college mom and dad?!), or using fake IDs to get into a nightclub. But parents aren’t always right. Take Screech and Violet. When Screech met Violet, her parents weren’t exactly feelin’ him. In response, they forbad (I’m sorry, but that word always sounded a bit weird to me) her from seeing him ever again. Yeah, they were wrong. When their precious angel almost lost her glee club’s singing contest by forgetting the words to the song (an argument could be made, however, that the choir sucked so bad they could’ve lost all by themselves), Screech rode in and saved the day. Granted, he sucked pretty bad too. But when you’re the main characters of a cheesy, teen’s show in the 90’s, excellence is not exactly a requirement. But I digress. Getting back on point, don’t let your parents pick your mate. The person they may see as a socially awkward and inept goof might actually be your ride-or-die mate.

8. The younger sibling may be the cooler one, but the older one is always better. Sorry, baby bro. Love you though! Oh, that probably applies to my wife too. Sorry babe! Love you too!

9. Persistence will lead to abject failure. There’s nothing in Heaven or Earth worse than unrequited love. When you throw yourself at a person, there is no worse feeling than when that person steps to the side as you crash into the brick wall behind her. That was Screech’s life story. Episode after episode, he professed his love for Lisa. But each time she told him to kick rocks. While Zack was dating every single girl in California and studio audiences were fawning over Slater in spadex suits, poor Screech had to endure the heartache of Lisa giving him the hand. To be fair, she never led him on. He just needed to give it a rest. “Know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em. Know when to walk away, know when to run.” Truer words were never spoken. However, as a counter to this argument…

10. Persistence can also lead to unimaginable success. After years of on and off again relationships, in the end Zack and Kelly became Zack and Kelly for good. Granted, Zack had to date quite a few girls (and, yes, one boy. You remember Screech and Bambi, right?) in between. He dated homeless girls, airheads, school nurses, his best friend’s sister, handicapped girls, college girls, Eastern snobs, female wrestlers, plus-sized girls, and biker girls…which all led to him snagging Kelly once and for all. How relatable is that? I dated women of all makeups (not as many as Zack though. My game was lacking) only to wind up marrying my lifelong sweetheart in the end.  

In the end, the greatest lesson I took away from the show was that – no matter what was going on in life – everything will be alright. Why? Because I was saved by the bell.

– ACL

Coping with it All

Anger.

Sadness.

Hopelessness.

Fear.

You can pick any one of these feelings to aptly describe just about every black person living in today’s America. On a Facebook timeline generally full of wonderful posts about vacations, happy families, children’s successes, and the occasional pic of disgusting foods (sorry, y’all. But it’s true), I’ve been seeing nothing but sullen, angry, and fearful posts. And for good reason. The nation has been rocked time and time again with stories of civilians – black, white, women, men – getting gunned down by police. But things really came to boiling point this week when back-to-back police shootings took the lives of two black men. Another black man was found hung in Georgia. Things culminated (at least, one can hope) with a mass shooting in Dallas, taking the lives of several police officers and injuring several others. I’m composing this piece on the heels of all of that bloodshed.

Naturally, people are up in arms. We’re angry. We’re sad. We feel hopeless. We feel fearful.

I won’t presume to tell anybody how they should be feeling right now. I wouldn’t want to be preached to about how I should be feeling, so I won’t dare do that to anyone else. It’s also not my intention to be paternalistic or passive about the severity of the times. I will, however, use my voice to do whatever I can to encourage others (and myself in the meantime) during this difficult period. That said, I have a few suggestions on how to cope with the stress and sorrow you may be feeling right now.

(1) Get away from social media. Make no mistake. For all of its faults, social media has been a key informational tool. Facts not fully or correctly reported by mainstream media have been introduced on social media. Twitter and Reddit have been far more useful than CNN and Fox News. So there’s no denying its impact. However, social media has also exacerbated a lot of the social conflicts we’re dealing with. “Keyboard warriors” (people who talk smack from behind the safety and anonymity of their computers) are lurking around every corner, seemingly waiting for the next story to surface so they can antagonize folk. While they definitely provide a truer snapshot of America, they also fan the flames. My advice is: don’t get baited in, even if your intentions are to enlighten. One thing I’ve learned during my many pointless 140-character battles on Twitter is that you will not…you CAN NOT…win, even if you actually do win. Take a break from it all. Trying to educate people about white privilege, micro-aggressions like #AllLivesMatter, and police brutality represents the ultimate bout with futility. If you’re dealing with heartache, that last thing you need to worry about is your head aching too.

(2) Don’t watch the videos. In fact, if you feel tempted to do so, unplug your mouse. If that doesn’t work, turn off and unplug your TV and/or smartphone. Disconnecting yourself from the visuals doesn’t make you any less of a concerned, caring human being. It also doesn’t mean that you’re somehow ignoring the situation. It simply means that you realize one of the best temporary fixes to emotional trauma is by removing yourself from one of the viewable conduits of said trauma. Watching these videos may provide context for your anger and even give you a better sense of what happened, but it also feeds into a sort of twisted electronic voyeurism. Which leads me to my next suggestion…

(3) Shut your computer completely down and walk away. Do something healthy and productive with your time, be it mental or physical. One of the things we note about kids these days is how wired they are into electronics without being in-tune with the outside world. Whether we want to admit it or not, we adults are the same way. We think that just because we put in long work days and pay bills that we don’t engage in some of the same behavior for which we chide our young people. We’re just as plugged in to our computers, tablets, and phones as they are. Read a book. Go outside. Visit a park. Talk a walk. Enjoy nature. It’s free, therapeutic, and doesn’t discriminate based on race, gender, sexual identity, or economic status. But do it, well, after you get your fix on my blog.

(4) Let it out. Pent up anger, sorrow, and aggression is the worst. Release it. Let out a good yell, a good cry. Anything to release some of that tension. I admit, this one is a bit harder for me. I absolutely hate crying in public for others to see. But I’m also human, so I will invariably get emotional from time to time. But it’s important – critical, even – to find an outlet for release. When I first heard all the news, I admittedly engaged in all the activities I’m now telling you not to do. True to form, all it did was make me more upset, not helping my cause at all. But what I hadn’t done yet was to let my emotions go. Unable to keep myself composed anymore, and right before I composed this piece, I sat in my home office and cried. I thought about my brother. What if he was shot and killed in front of his wife and son like Philando Castille? I thought about my dad and my father-in-law. What if they were pinned down and shot point blank like Alton Sterling? I thought about my wife. What if she was apprehended and victimized like Sandra Bland?  I thought about my son and daughter. What if one of them was shot dead like Tamir Rice? I thought about the endless acquittals and the parenthetic messages society sends indicating that black lives are worthless enough to be taken by police with no punishment. So, yes, I cried. But you know what? I’m not ashamed of that.

(5) Laugh. I’m a huge fan of Pete Davidson. For the benefit of you who have never heard of him, Pete Davidson is a current cast member of Saturday Night Live. More notably about him though, is that his father (a firefighter for the New York fire department) died on 9/11. What makes Pete cool to me was that he took an otherwise horrific situation and found humor in it. It was a sort of catharsis that many people didn’t appreciate, were offended by, but was still evidently effective for him. Now, I’m not the kind of person to find anything comical about black people being killed by police. But that doesn’t mean I can’t laugh at something. Anything. Maybe a Crash Cut video. Maybe re-watching the first season of the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Maybe watching Sinbad’s “Afros and Bellbottoms” stand-up special. Whatever the outlet, the vastly-held sentiment is true: laughter really is the best medicine.

(6) Spirituality. Religion (or spirituality. Whatever floats your boat) not only offers up guidelines on how live a good and decent life, but it can also be a source of strength when you need it. Some studies have even suggested that religious people are generally happier. This doesn’t necessarily mean you have to attend a certain church (or any church at all), subscribe to a certain kind of religion, or engage in certain practices. Any belief system that emphasizes ideals like peace, forgiveness, and optimism can’t be bad.

(7) Connect with other people. I sincerely believe the people in your life – friends and family – are the ties that bond. It goes without saying how important it is connect (and stay connected) with them. But remember that it’s also OK to feel connected to the victims. This is perhaps the most important thing we can do as shared citizens of this planet. Staying connected to each other helps to keep our humanity intact and theirs. But it also prevents us from being numb to other people’s suffering. It’s the same collective feeling we all had during 9/11, the Sandy Hook shooting, the Orlando nightclub massacre, and any number of national and international tragedies. No matter what happens, never lose sight of the fact that we’re all people.

To be sure, none of this will stop the madness of the world from carrying on. There will be more police killings. There will be more mass shootings. There will be more wars. There will be more horrific assaults on one another. There will be more innocent blood spilled. As long as certain people draw breath, a certain level of fear, hatred, bigotry, and evil will reside in them. And you can bet on somebody – somewhere – at sometime creating more chaos and hysteria. But that doesn’t mean we have to succumb to the inevitability of it all. I’m not saying coping with be easy. But it will be helpful.

– ACL

Defending Chris Darden 20 Years Later

Even though it’s been over 20 years now since the infamous OJ Simpson trial, the memories are still quite fresh with me. The verdict especially lingers with me, standing out as one of those “Where were you?” moments. I expressly remember being a young, high school junior witnessing the verdict on a TV cart wheeled in to the same class where we spent many months before discussing the case. I remember the images showing the various reactions of white and black viewers, and remembering how those expressions were similarly reflected in my class. I remember thinking this case represented a turning point (good or bad) for the country. But I also remember discussing how the case was won by one side and lost by the other. Almost unanimously, people agreed that one of the pivotal moments of the trial was when the blood-stained gloves used during the murders didn’t fit OJ’s hand. The trial was defined by the singular Cochran line “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”

Since it was the idea of prosecutor Chris Darden for Simpson to try on the gloves in the first place, he was naturally blamed for the outcome. But after re-examining the case from adult eyes, I have a much different take on – and appreciation of – Mr. Darden’s role in this trial. In the humble opinion of your intrepid host, none of this should have ever fallen on Darden. If anything, I think Darden was an unsung hero in this case. As he was unfairly being portrayed as a “uncle tom” or a bumbling lawyer, I think he was ultimately the main one looking for justice for two victims. While everyone else was looking to cash in on “The Trial of the Century”, I think Darden’s best intentions were pretty noble and unblemished by the magnitude of the case.

ESPN Classic used to air a show called “The Top Five Reasons You Can’t Blame…“, a series focusing on a player or organization widely blamed for a notable sports failure. But I’d like to go in a different direction and apply that to the OJ Simpson Murder Trial. So this post is written to prove to you that Chris Darden was not at fault for the outcome of the trial. Before I get to the top 5 reasons why you can’t blame Chris Darden, let’s examine a few reasons that didn’t make the cut. Here are, what TFRYCB would refer to as, “The Best of the Rest”:

The jury: Darden astutely pointed out that the jury’s deliberation would be ignited by passion. He was right. Once the trial started, objectivity was thrown out the window. One juror, for instance, stripped away any sympathy for Nicole Simpson because she believed Nicole put herself in her predicament by not leaving OJ in the first place. Another juror gave OJ a Black Panther salute as he exited the courtroom, apparently in a show of black solidarity. If you think the jury was impartial, you missed the entire trial.

OJ Simpson: Simpson exuded charisma and charm both as a football player and as a celebrity beyond his football years. Being a public figure and a well-established actor at the time, he knew how to turn it up or down to suit the situation. The courtroom camera and media coverage amplified that to a much larger audience. He knew the perfect time to flash his infectious smile or to garner our sympathy with his sad and stoic look. OJ was, dare I say, brilliant. And people ate it up.

And now, for the top five reasons you can’t blame Chris Darden for the OJ acquittal:

(5) Johnnie Cochran: Let’s face facts. Johnnie Cochran was good. Scratch that. The man was legendary. He possessed a legal mastery that was on full display before the entire world. With his spell-binding alliteration, his preacher-esque delivery, and a team of brilliant legal minds at his disposal, Cochran made this trial less about OJ and more of an indictment of an historically oppressive and disparate judicial system. Cochran could have squared off against Jesus Christ Himself and won the case.

(4) Fred Goldman: I’ll admit: this one is a little hard to critique, and I hate to include him in this list. Mr. Goldman was a grieving parent who deserved (and still deserves) our sympathy. But in his zeal to keep OJ from getting off by being a black man “victimized by the system”, he scoffed at the racial aspect of this case presented by Mr. Cochran. People noticed and despised Goldman for it. I remember his response to Cochran comparing Detective Fuhrman to Hitler was to accuse Cochran of “playing the race card.” When black people see a black person on trial for his life with white people out to get him, accusing them of playing the race card will fail, even if that person actually was playing the race card. It will fail. Every. Single. Time. In the blink of an eye, that rant turned Goldman from a sympathetic victim of violence into an agitator completely dismissive of the reality of systemic racism for millions of people.

(3) Marcia Clark: Regardless of what Chris may or may not have done correctly during the trial, the inescapable fact was that this was Clark’s case to win or lose. She determined the witnesses to call. It was her job to connect with the jurors. It was her job to predict any and all hurdles that could have came up over the course of the trial. It was her job to control the optics (I’m no legal scholar, but even I know that trials are less about right and wrong and more about delivery). It was her job to properly vet Mark Fuhrman if she planned to use him as a witness (ironically, Darden opposed putting Fuhrman on the stand. But Clark – thinking Fuhrman was the key to introducing the gloves as evidence – overruled him). Even her decision to add Darden to the case appeared to have been racially-motivated by many. I honestly think she was just showing confidence in his ability. But to the people who mattered most (in the case, the jury) it looked like a calculated racial play by Clark. She failed to forsee that or to deal with it once it came up.

Have I convinced you yet? If not, keep reading.

(2) Mark Fuhrman: Captain Obvious on this one, people. If Fuhrman is not put on the stand or associated with this case in any way, OJ is found guilty. No doubt about it. Again, I understanding the reasoning behind Clark’s decision to put Fuhrman on the stand. But anybody with even a modicum of courtroom insight knows that the minute a person is put on the stand, that person’s credibility is immediately up for dissection. The person testifying has to be virtually unimpeachable. Fuhrman wasn’t. Instead, he was a Nazi-paraphernalia collecting, unabashed racist who was recorded talking about beating up suspects (referring to them with the n-word) and planting evidence (Is it a shock that he’s now a Fox News contributor? But I digress). THIS, ladies and gentlemen, was the man central to the prosecution’s case. His coming up with the lamest of all reasons for saying those things on tape and then subsequently pleading the fifth on questions pertaining to him planting evidence pretty much closed the door on the trial. Need I remind you, this was Marcia Clark’s witness.

And the number one reason…

Rodney King: The OJ Simpson verdict was payback for the acquittals of the officers involved in the Rodney King beating. This, from the mouth of one of the jurors. The prosecution could have put on the best trial of their careers and they still would have lost. The City of Los Angeles was still reeling from Rodney King along with an assortment of other racially-charged events. In each instance, the people attacking and/or killing the black victims received little, if any, punishment. It was only a matter of time before the powder keg exploded. It just happened to explode around the same time that OJ murdered two people of the OJ trial.

There you have it. Have I changed your mind? What say you?

– ACL

The Orlando Shooting: Humanity in a Mass Killer?

I know, right? At the outset, that title appears to represent the ultimate in contradictory statements.

This weekend, the country was rocked by the news that a lone gunman killed over 50 people and injured another 50 plus after he opened fire in an Orlando nightclub. Whether it was solely religiously motivated (he was reportedly pledging allegiance to ISIS moments before he started his rampage) or a combination of his radical beliefs and homophobia (the scene of the shooting was a gay nightclub) is unclear. It’s all speculative at best, although certain reality show whores turned presidential candidates have already hedged their bets on what’s happened. All we know for sure is that dozens of innocent lives have once again been senselessly snatched. And, of course, no mass shooting incident would be be complete without the legal/illegal access to guns debate (in this situation, the shooter legally obtained his weapons). Outside of the fact that the body count makes this the worst single-day mass shooting in U.S. history and that it was likely a hate crime directed at the LGBT community, nothing much makes this particular story stand out from any other mass shootings. Except…

…according to at least one eye witness, the gunman inexplicably harbored a certain level of sympathy toward black people during the shooting. When asked to identify their race, black hostages were reportedly spared. From that witness’ account, the shooter indicated that he “had no issues with the blacks”, allowing them to live. Meanwhile, other outlets are reporting the opposite, instead pointing out that he held an equal disdain for multiple groups including blacks along with women, homosexuals, Jewish people, etc. At this point, I’m not sure who to believe. Was the shooter an across-the-board bigot as some are suggesting, or did he have sympathy toward black people, even in the midst of mowing down so many other victims? If the latter is true, what does it say about our culture when a mass murdering nutcase was willing to spare the lives of black people when our own law enforcement agents have failed to do so time and time again? Do black lives matter more to a murderous loon in a gay nightclub than to the people paid to uphold the “protect and serve” oath?

I hate to even racialize a tragedy like this, especially with this story being so fresh on our minds. And my thoughts and prayers certainly go out to all the victims of this horrible tragedy, along with the victims of countless other tragedies like this. But at the same time (again, assuming that it’s even true), it hasn’t rested well with me that the humanity of black people was appreciated by a sick guy implementing violent ISIS-inspired attacks in the same day in age where cops are killing off black bodies for everything from talking back to them to selling cigarettes.

– ACL