Autographed Letter Signed

A Mostly Center-Right Place For Those With Irritable Obama Syndrome and Diversity Fatigue

Low Flying Planes, Subway Trains and Automobiles April 28, 2009


Our memories do not lie dormant forever. Whether happy times, sad times, or simply unpleasant details, our collection of events will always be with us. Waiting to be triggered by sights, sounds, and smells.

I have always been fascinated by trains, especially subway cars. Commuting suits my need to people watch. It was the safest place I could be, high above the buildings in Chicago. I would get as close to the conductor as I could and take every stop, every curve with him.. I wanted to be him. Things changed for me one day, There was a terrible accident involving two Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) “L” trains. Feb. 4, 1977, during the evening rush hour one elevated train plowed into the rear of another at the corner of Lake Street and Wabash Avenue, 11 passengers died and another 180 were injured. It was the worst subway accident in Chicago history. Photos of the “L” cars dangling from the tracks persisted in my memory for months. Mother could not get me near another “L” and if I did occasionally take one, it had to be underground. No elevated trains “Not in the air” I would say.

She worried that I would never see my favorite places again. The Museum of Science and Industry was a pain to get to by bus. By 1979, I had not been to the museum for two years. Their was an elevated train track near my school. The Douglass “B” train as it was called then (Now the Blue Line). I would only walk under the tracks if a train was not coming. If a train passed, mom and I would stand stationary a kazillion feel back until it passed. Unexpectedly as we were walking under the tracks one afternoon, my hand in hers, Mom stopped.

1977 Chicago "L" train Crash

1977 Chicago "L" train Crash

“Why are we stopping?” I asked.

“I think I dropped something,” she answered looking at the ground.

She would not let go of my hand. All I could think of was that a train would be coming over our head soon. Not letting go of my hand didn’t help. I couldn’t run. Sure enough a train came and she would not release my hand.

“Stand still. Nothing is going to happen” .

And it did not.

“See” she said raising her eyebrows, “It did not fall. That was something that happens only once.”

That weekend I went to the Museum Of Science and Industry. We took the train. I rode with my eyes closed most of the way but I got there safely, went to see the Fairy Castle and the Circus exhibit. I came home too. No “L” crash.

Lesson learned: face your fears.

Years later I lived in New York City during 9/11. It was an event that I later developed panic disorder from. I would take the subway to work always running late, never prepared with a book. I needed to pass the time away. I did this by looking up at the advertisements making words out of the words they contained. Other times I would just sit thinking of nothing. Outside the train was endless black tunnel. I turn my face towards the window to see me looking back at me in the glass. Then the train slows down.

What’s wrong? I smell smoke. Or do I? Do I have my Xanax? Oh Shit, I left it on the night table..Be calm Afrocity. I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE. My knees start to shake.

This is different from the Chicago “L” trauma. In New York, my fear had company. Everyone looked nervous. Despite our collective perseverance since the horrible events of 11 September 2001, we were still paralyzed and bound by collective fear.

There is no doubt that we each have our own mental archive of imagery, sounds, triggers that function in different ways but that trauma is indeed collective.

It does not matter if that collective trauma involves the Holocaust; the after effects of slavery, the Vietnam War, an exodus from Cuba, the riots of 1969, apartheid. No matter what it is still there and is that groups to own. The Obama administration has the propensity to forget that we remember. We will never forget.


At the heart of yesterday’s ill conceived low flying aerial photo op in New York City serves as a reminder of our collective tragedy and the troubling ignorance and disrespect for historical fact that persists within the ranks of Obama’s White House. The perceived external threats in our current “post 9/11 era” include Iran, Al Qaeda, China, Hamas. Comparatively, according to the genius of Janet Napolitano, United States Secretary of Homeland Security, America’s perceived internal threats include, former military personnel, and anyone with a faded McCain/Palin bumper sticker on their car.

Who is surprised that they forgot that we NEVER FORGET?


Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Recriminations fly after NYC jet flyover photo op


It was supposed to be a photo op that captured images of an Air Force One plane with a majestic Statue of Liberty in the background. Instead, it turned into a public relations nightmare that led to recriminations from the president and mayor and prompted thousands other to ask, “What were they thinking?”

Just before the workday began on Monday, an airliner and supersonic fighter jet zoomed past the lower Manhattan skyline. Within minutes, startled financial workers streamed out of their offices, fearing a nightmarish replay of Sept. 11.

For a half-hour, the Boeing 747 and F-16 jet circled the Statue of Liberty and the Financial District near the World Trade Center site. Offices evacuated. Dispatchers were inundated with calls. Witnesses thought the planes were flying dangerously low.

But the flyover was nothing but a photo op, apparently one of a series of flights to get pictures of the plane in front of national landmarks.


How does one get over 9/11? You don’t. There are times when my day gets off to a leisurely start. I wake up slowly. I drink my tomato juice, turn on Fox and Friends, feed the cats, humming a tune from The Smiths or Steely Dan. Everything is bright and normal. This lasts until I glance at the digital clock on my microwave and it says 9:11. Damn! I stop whatever I am doing and a ritual follows. I get down on my knees and pray for the victims, their families, and continued peace in America. At 9:12, I start my day again.

Autographed Letter Signed,



Featured Moonbat of the Week: Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis (Code Pink) April 27, 2009

Great Poster, Too bad it is backed by MOONBATS

Great Poster, Too bad it is backed by MOONBATS


The demarcation line between your average harmless democrat and a liberal left wing moonbat is not difficult to make. Moonbats can be cross class in nature. A Moonbat may be the vegan checkout person at Whole Foods who throws your feta cheese stuffed beef fillets in the bag with all of his might. Or, it could be the wife of a wealthy corporate CEO. Moonbats can be very prominent people in terms of pedigree, wealth, business and talent.

To be certain, there are some surefire signs of a moonbat from a list I found. It has been very helpful to me.

A primitive member of the Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis species

A primitive member of the Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis species

• You may be a moonbat if you believe Michael Moore is a great patriot.

• You may be a moonbat if a Christmas tree offends you.

• You may be a left wing moonbat if you believe KFC is committing the holocaust of chickens.

• You may be an ALPHA moonbat if the protest was more than 1,000 miles away from where you reside.

• You may be a moonbat if you believe the NY Times is a centrist newspaper without an agenda.

• You may be a moonbat if you take Jon Stewart seriously.
• You may be a moonbat if you think taxes are too low.
• You may be a moonbat if you believe Nancy Pelosi Howard Dean, Barack Obama, and Bill Richardson are real Democrats.
• You may be a moonbat if your name is George Soros.
• You may be a moonbat if you wear Fidel Castro, Chavez, or Che Guevara t-shirts.
• You may be a moonbat if you believe Al Gore invented the internet.

If you suspect that someone you know a may be moonbat, do be very cautious during your interactions with them. Moonbats have been known to ruin a good art gallery opening, boat outing, or school play (Afrocity has experienced this personally). The motives and subsequent actions of a moonbat have ethical implications. It is not apparent on the surface but they are linked to the establishment of the left wing, condemning on one hand the power of the dominant groups, organized religion, and the military and on the other hand aiding and abetting the inferior statuses and abilities of minority groups. A common moonbat tactic when confronted by difference is to loudly protest against and demonize the target.

Every Monday we will reveal a member of the moonbat species. There are plenty so we will never run out. We may even discover a few of our own as they mutate rapidly, especially among the young, disgruntled, people who don’t have shit to do with themselves.

This Monday’s moonbat is Code Pink or Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis:

Code Pink or more formally Code Pink: Women for Peace is described by Wiki as:

…an anti-war group based on a radical eco-feminist, and marxist-feminist ideology. They describe themselves as a “grassroots peace and social justice movement working to end the war in Iraq, stop new wars, and redirect our resources into healthcare, education and other life-affirming activities

Feeble collector of the Code Pink Moonbat

Feeble collector of the Code Pink Moonbat

So fine Code Pink. You are against war and you want peace. It seems like a pretty harmless goal except my problem with Code Pink stems from their depiction of our soldiers as murderers. To that end, the liberal propaganda these moonbats rely most heavily upon involves signs that bear offensive messages such as “Kill our troops”. As the sister of a service man, I am overwhelmed by the insensitivity of Code Pink towards our troops overseas and their families.

Yes, no doubt about it. You really are advancing women's rights.

Yes, no doubt about it. You really are advancing women's rights.

Therefore I submit Code Pink as our “moonbat of the week”. What the hell do they hope to gain by demeaning our troops?

There are no words for this

There are no words for this

The Code Pink Moonbat has become a subject of film studies.

The Code Pink Moonbat has become a subject of film studies.

Common source of nourishment for Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis

Common source of nourishment for Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis

A rare queen specimen of Liberalis Medeaus Twitcalis resisting captivity.
Autographed Letter Signed,


Say Hello to My Liberal Friend: Moonbat Monday the First in a Series


Moonbat Specimen: Liberalis Stupidus

Early Moonbat Specimen: Liberalis Stupidus

Ever experienced being a traveler in a strange land?
Can’t understand the language the natives speak?
You feel awkward while adjusting to the ins and outs of a new culture.

That was the way I felt as a democrat. For some reason I was in the foreign country but I didn’t understand why.I was there simply because my mother had brought me. This especially became apparent during 9/11. I lived in New York City at the time and was effected personally by the events of the tragedy.

When Bush sent troops into Afghanistan I had friends that were so angry they took to the streets in protest. The following conservation made it oh so obvious that I was a foreigner in a liberal land.

LIBERAL FRIEND:Muthafuckers sent troops into Afghanistan. Fucking Assholes. Bush is suck a fucking ASSHOLE
AFROCITY:”But they attacked us!!! We have to defend ourselves and let them know that they can’t do this again. They killed over 3,000 people. LIBERAL FRIEND:What’s the matter with you? We can’t just go attacking countries just because they attack us.
AFROCITY: Why not? Who knows what else Bin Laden has planned for us.
LIBERAL FRIEND: (Looks at me like I am carrying a gun in a school yard, may ask to see my liberal passport at any moment)
AFROCITY: (I want to end this conversation. I am angry someone I know has died. I need to finish cleaning the dust and debris from my apartment)
LIBERAL FRIEND:Karma deserves to bite America in the ass.
AFROCITY: I find it interesting that you are a self professed atheist yet you believe in Karma.
LIBERAL FRIEND: Karama is not a deity.
AFROCITY: Touche, very well then. (goes back to watching CNN)

My liberal friend protested the strikes against Afghanistan. I stayed home and watched the country change. Every brownstone in Park Slope, Brooklyn had a US flag hanging from somewhere. Protesting as an act is something that never appealed to me- a liberals right of passage I preferred to skip.

Moonbat Specimen: Liberalis Goracle Delusionalis

Highly Evolved Moonbat Specimen: Liberalis Goracle Delusionalis

“Days of Rage” pictures from the 1960’s looked crazy to me. Flower children, Charles Manson, Woodstock, riots… My brother was into the Black Power thing, had a huge afro that came with a hair pic permanently attached. He was about 17 years old and a bastion of black and pissed off critical thought as he sat around a card table with his gang buddies smoking pot. Angry over their plight as black men, they would play cards, smoke weed, drink, smoke weed, drink, play cards. I was continually regalled with tales of “the man”, and how that spearheaded the black revolution. Fuck the man. Fuck the white man’s war. He played a lot of The Doors and Pink Floyd. As a three year old I was amused by the whole thing, it was fun. There was always a certain point of the evening where I didn’t have to hide anymore and my brother would prop me on his knee so I could play too–and drink beer. (Which is why I may loathe the taste of it today).

That depiction was one of the good days. By the time I was six there was a clear message from my family that black people were basically screwed and I should be angry about it from birth. My brother carved his entire social identity on that notion. He became a liberal moonbat and began to involve himself in my social life. Holly Hobbie was one of my favorites. My bedroom was devoted to the character. I had the dolls, the house, the clothes including the bonnet. Brother did not approve of my obsession with Holly. She was a part of the establishment. Holly Hobbie was white and very ummmm, boho… Vermont folksy,blond hair and blue eyes, makes gooseberry jam and moonshine.

Holly Hobby. Racism ripped us apart.

Holly Hobbie. She is not a moonbat but racism eventually ripped us apart.

She lived alone with a cat and fed the mouse some cheese every day. You know, a free spirit who would grow up to be an environmentalist or a midwife. She was without a doubt a liberal, but Holly was definitely not a card carrying “down with the cause” black power kind of gal. Wild berries and honey with scones had very little to do with powdered milk and Spam sandwiches. His complaining to my mom about how little Afrocity was falling into a white man’s trap fell on death ears. She told him to go to school, get a job, or get out of the house. One day while insulted by my mom’s racial ignorance he was being especially nasty and unbearable. I was sitting in front of the TV watching Dream Of Jeanie, eating a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream in my Holly Hobbie dress. Dr. Bellows came on the screen. I had a crush on him (don’t ask).

“Mom, I am gonna marry Dr. Bellows someday” I declared.
“I know.” Mom answered from way back in the kitchen.

Faster than I could fold my arms and blink, my brother grabbed me up from the floor. My expression smiling and laughter at first but he got rough. “Ouch, stop that. MOMMY”
I could not believe it. He tore off my Holly Hobbie dress and I stood there in middle of the living room floor butt naked. I grabbed for the dress kicking and screaming while being dragged across the orange psychedelic linoleum. Mom came out from the kitchen and there was a battle that left scars. I had been shamed and bitten. The dress was beyond repair and that was my first encounter with a moonbat.

From the Urban Dictionary:


An unthinking or insane leftist — in other words, most modern leftists.

Moonbat can also be used as an adjective, e.g. a moonbat professor. According to the Wikipedia entry for moonbat, the word was coined in 2002 by the Editor of Samizdata, Perry de Havilland, and was a variation on the name of radical British activist and columnist George Monbiot.

Originally, the term “moonbat” was intended to be more politically neutral, and described wackos on the left and the right, but it quickly acquired its current usage of being applied almost exclusively to those on the left.

The term also references the moon much in the same way that “lunatic” refers to the insanity-causing powers of the full moon (luna = moon). Bloggers occasionally analyze the behavior patterns of various moonbat “species” as if they were actual animals, and even give them satirical Linnaean taxonomical names, such as “moonbattus berkeleyensis”.

Okay I get it. You mean like this?

Another type of moonbat in its natural habitat. <i>moonbattus berkeleyensis</i>

Another type of moonbat in its natural habitat. moonbattus berkeleyensis

2. moonbat

Any number of irrational and hysterical individuals whose self-indulgent intellectual indolence has led them to a visceral hatred of all things western. Moonbats tend to frequent anti-globalization and numerous other forms of rallies, demonstrations, sit-ins, and the like, tend to look dirty, and can frequently be heard using terms such as, “imperialism”. The mark of a true moonbat is the total lack of perspective (i.e. “if a dictator provides free healthcare, I like that dictator” – actual moonbat quote).

Hmmmm. I got it!!!

A common moonbat specimen <i> Liberalis Vulgaris</i>

A common moonbat specimen Liberalis Vulgaris

Absolutely frightening. No wonder I never liked demonstrations. I have always fought their attempts to convince me that my country sucks. At first glance, they seem to be concerned with what’s going on around them. Purposeful and social in nature. Outdoorsy types reveling in the smell of trees and grass (cough, cough). They seemed normal but as I interacted with them, something unnerved me. It gnawed at my brain like a rat and was intensely liberal in nature. Then it came to me. They are always angry. Bitching seems to suit them well as they never want to see both sides. Diversions are created in order to avoid coming up with pragmatic solutions.

I began to avoid, treated them well in every respect. The sight of John Kerry sickened me. I lied and said I voted for him just to appease my liberal friends. Conflicted, I did not vote at all that year. The assault and moonbattery grew during the Democratic primaries of 2008. Forget having any sort of realistic dialogue. They had a skewed portrait of democracy and free speech. Speech was free as long as it was what they liked to hear. Do these ghastly moonbats honestly represent the entire left wing?

Stay Tuned and we will find out.

Autographed Letter Signed,



End of the Sidewalk: The Right Response to Universal Health Care April 26, 2009

"TB in Harlem"  by Alice Neel

"TB in Harlem" by Alice Neel

There is nothing subtle about my father.
By temperament, he is inclined to strong opinions and prejudices.
He did not attend college like I did.
He has been in jail.
Before my mother passed away, he had not seen her since she was pregnant with me.
Our five year relationship illustrates the best in each of us–one of I approach with a mix of discovery and suspicion.

One night after a nice dinner, decent conversation, and his doing his laundry at my apartment, dad was putting on his jacket to go home. He looked at me and did not want to smile. I knew why. Decades ago he had lost his front teeth in a prison brawl. He is deeply self conscious about it. He coughed a little which reminded me that I forgot to arm him with aluminum foiled left overs from our dinner. Didn’t want him to go home empty-handed. Grabbing a dishtowel, I turned to the stove to grab the roast when he softly asked.

Do you have any antibiotics you can loan me? “

Ironically I was recovering from a cold myself. I had not gone to the doctor for it. Like most of my colds, I treated it with rest, lemon tea and Benedryl. I knew that there were no antibiotics in my house. I paused a long time over his question. I was also a bit distressed that he would think I would share my prescription drugs with him even if I had them. Rather than saving myself the effort, I made a futile trip to my medicine cabinet. It was unsurprising to see that it was devoid of antibiotics. There was Prilosec, Zantac, anxiety medication, Imodium, Pepto, Aspercream, and Motrin for me…Insulin for my diabetic cat accompanied by needles, steroids and glucosimine for my dog that I put down in March (I really need to get rid of that stuff).

Also in the cabinet was an empty old prescription bottle which had my mother’s name on it.

It was for Atenolol. Medication that is prescribed for hypertension, the silent murderer of my mother.

Guilty feelings came back. Afrocity you should have tried harder to get her to see that she had a problem. You should have been there. She died alone, no one knew for days. I closed the cabinet and sarcasm became my escape route as I attempted to recompose myself.


“No Dad. No antibiotics. I can’t help you unless you want to shoot up with pig insulin, and get rid of hairballs.” I said dryly. (AWKWARD)

He laughed at my sense of humor but I was not as amused.

At 62 this was no laughing matter for him. How did he let things get this way? My animals have more medicine than he does. He has a nice apartment, a car, but no health insurance. He works but it is only small odd jobs here and there- nothing steady. He receives social security benefits but no medical card.

Mean spirited conservative that I am, I told him that his health was his responsibility. Together we would work on getting him to a doctor if he ever needed one. With his leftovers packed in a Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bag I walked him to the elevator. We rode down together saying nothing. Sundays are not good for me because they remind me of my mother. Seeing that pill bottle was the last thing I needed. At the time of her death it seemed like a nice souvenir. Her name was on it. She had existed once and seeing her name in print proved it. For the same reason, I continue to have her catalog subscription forwarded to me. Sometimes I even buy something to make sure they will remain in my circle of junk mail . Somewhere in Burlington, Vermont my mom is alive in a database. She bought breast firming cream just last week.

The elevator went to the lobby, it was cold and rainy but I still walked down the sidewalk with him to his car. We hugged and then I said something mean and stupid.

“I don’t need to lose another person in my life. I can’t handle it. I don’t need to get another call in the middle of the night from a stranger telling me my parent is dead. I don’t need that.”

He just nodded “I know”.

“She died at 68. That is six years from 62.” I warned as I backed away from the car. Now I was sounding like my parent’s parent AGAIN. Been there done that. Been there FAILED at that. The sidewalk ended time for me to go back inside of myself.


Honestly I can not tell you how I feel about universal health care. I am undecided. Why can’t I put him on my insurance if I want to? See I want to take care of him. I don’t want the government to do it. There is no tension between the former Democrat I once was and the conservative I am now. I was not in favor of socialized medicine then. See told you I was a DINO.

The Health Care Debate Is Centuries Long

The Health Care Debate Is Centuries Long

On Friday Charles Krauthammer warned us to expect health care rationing in this Atlantic Journal-Constitution article:

Expect health care rationing

By Charles Krauthammer

Washington Post Writers Group

Friday, April 24, 2009

In the service of his ultimate mission —- the leveling of social inequalities —- President Obama offers a tripartite social democratic agenda: nationalized health care, federalized education (ultimately guaranteed through college) and a cash-cow carbon tax (or its equivalent) to subsidize the other two.

Problem is, the math doesn’t add up. Not even a carbon tax would pay for Obama’s vastly expanded welfare state. Nor will Midwestern Democrats stand for a tax that would devastate their already crumbling region…

It is estimated that a third to a half of one’s lifetime health costs are consumed in the last six months of life. Accordingly, Britain’s National Health Service can deny treatments it deems not cost-effective —- and if you’re old and infirm, the cost-effectiveness of treating you plummets. In Canada, they ration by queuing. You can wait forever for so-called elective procedures like hip replacements.

Rationing is not as alien to America as we think. We already ration kidneys and hearts for transplant according to survivability criteria as well as by queuing. A nationalized health insurance system would ration everything from MRIs to intensive care by a myriad of similar criteria.

The more acute thinkers on the left can see rationing coming, provoking Slate blogger Mickey Kaus to warn of the political danger. “Isn’t it an epic mistake to try to sell Democratic health care reform on this basis? Possible sales pitch: ‘Our plan will deny you unnecessary treatments!’ “

My preference is for a highly competitive, privatized health insurance system with a government-subsidized transition to portability, breaking the absurd and ruinous link between health insurance and employment. But if you believe that health care is a public good to be guaranteed by the state, then a single-payer system is next best. Unfortunately, it is fiscally unsustainable without rationing.

I agree with many of Krauthammer’s points having always found him to be levelheaded on mostly everything but especially health care reform. I am not looking to save the world. I just want to help my father help himself. Until then I will remember to guilt my doctor into giving me prescriptions for antibiotics and resign myself to being a political orphan on this issue.

Autographed Letter Signed,



Don’t Forget About Sundae School!!! Obama Ice Cream Flavor Contest April 25, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — afrocity @ 10:37 PM
Wayne Thiebaud Girl with Ice Cream Cone 1963

Wayne Thiebaud Girl with Ice Cream Cone 1963

Hello everybody don’t forgot that the deadline for the Name that Obama Ice Cream Flavor Contest is fast approaching.

The winner will receive a $30 gift card to Cold Stone Creamery or The Marble Slab!!!

Contest ends April 30, 2009

In January 2009 Ben&Jerry Ice Cream announced a new flavor. Yes Pecan!!!! The Unofficial Obama (aka pampers) Ice Cream. Now it is your chance to name an ice cream flavor after Barack Obama or his inner circle of Obamabots.


BOLDNBALD: Arugulably Delicious–Arugula flavored ice cream with dark and white chocolate chips served, of course, in a waffle cone with honey dribble over the top. No nuts, since he doesn’t have any.

CHATBLU:1.“Blue Chips Frapped”: A scintillating blend of vanilla with shredded bit of blue chip stock certificates swirled for a deeply blue experience.
2.“Bitter Brickle” A bitter chocolate base with chips of hard feelings throughout.
3. Butterscotch Bonus” with twenty million bits of butterscotch that appear after you have consumed or destroyed your cone?
GARYCHAPELHILL: Can’t I just eat my vanilla in a waffle cone in peace?”
MANBEARPIG68: 1. L-Ayers Cake” For the domestic terrorist in you. Especially wrapped in fragments of an American flag that has been stomped on.Guaranteed to be –DA BOMB After eating it you will say “We didn’t do enough”
DAVIDM:Rock Road To Recovery.
MADAMAB:“Post-Partisan Paradise?” A blended harmony of vanilla and chocolate, flavors which used to strive for domination, but which now work together sweetly and joyously thanks to the unifying presence of Our Dear Leader!
VALORIE:How about “Commiesalatte”-A cappucino flavored ice cream with cigar shaped marshmallows and ribbons of the finest Venezuelan dark chocolate syrup running throughout. In honor of Obama’s latest BFF’s, of course.



Obama 2008


Putting Out the Obamabutts: Is the Right To Smoke Constitutional?

Josephine Baker in a vintage smoking ad

Josephine Baker in a vintage smoking ad

Many of us have tried smoking at least once. As I write this I can recall my first time smoking and it was also my last. I was twelve years old and in science class at a Chicago Public School on the West side. My friend came to me and flashed four cigarettes. “They are Virginia Slims” she said. “We can smoke them after school.”

Ah, Virginia Slims. I loved their proactive girl power advertisements which had a tremendous influence on my attitudes towards smoking. “YOU’ VE COME A LONG WAY BABY”. The ads made me want to smoke. Smoking carried essences of gender identity. My entry into the smoking culture was synonymous wuth being a feminist. I would be a bitch ass feminist in sexy clothes- a nonconformist, carefree, trail blazer. A woman’s role is to query, survive, and smoke!!!

That entire afternoon, I impatiently twitched at my school desk waiting for 3PM to arrive. When it did my gal pals and I walked several blocks from campus to an abandoned building. No one would see us here except for the dope fiends that lived there. I took my Viginia Slim and lit up. Okay, I did not feel like a woman. It was awkward holding it between my fingers.
“Why are they so skinny?” I asked.

My friends laughed. “They are for girls that is why they are called slims.” They mocked me by rolling their eyes. Clearly they were having a better time than I. I began to cough

PSA Anti-Smoking Campaign Ad

PSA Anti-Smoking Campaign Ad

“It stinks” I said, taking it out of my mouth and throwing it down. Maybe I would like it some other time.
“You’re not even finished! You wasted it!” My friend was mad.
She was always ahead of me in every respect when it came to being what we thought at the time was a woman. She lost her virginity at nine, got her first period at ten. I was nearly thirteen and had experienced none of those things. “Sorry” I said. “I need to go home”

At home I was a total basket case and told my mother everything. She said I smelled like smoke and she had this premonition that I was up to “no good”. As usual she harassed me for being friends with “that girl”. Mother was not a smoker but her son was. She regretted ever letting him start and was obviously disappointed in me.

I promised never to do it again. I didn’t want to. Maybe I would try to be a woman by drinking Smirnoff (They had sexy ads with women in them also). I would never pick up another cigarette again.

I was living in New York City when the laws were passed banning smoking in public places. Gone were the days of a maître d’ asking “Smoking or Nonsmoking?”

I won’t lie to my readers. I was glad. The smell of cigarette smoke annoys me.

I would never think of cigarettes again until I moved into an apartment building filled with upwardly mobile gen-Xers. I walked off the elevator one night only to be accosted by one of my neighbors.

“Are you the one on the floor that smokes?” he asked.

“No.” I said. He looked pissed off-like veins popping from your forehead pissed off.
“Someone on this floor is smoking and I intend to put an end to it”

“I don’t think you can” I said. “There are no condo association rules saying that you cannot smoke in your apartment. It is their apartment”
My neighbor stomped off. What later ensued was a battle of fluorescent post it notes stuck on the door of the butt in question. The smokers ended up putting an electronic Glade air freshener in the hallway which unfortunately violated fire codes. They ended up moving four months later. Judging from my neighbor’s good mood, the exodus of the smokers was mentally satisfying.

I could not help but feel that the entire incident was blown out of proportion. You have the right to do what you want in the confines of your own home…Right?

The federal government is cracking down on smokers by raising taxes on cigarettes. That makes it pretty damn hard to smoke given the current economic crisis. Still cigarette sales have only dropped 25%. Though it is ironic that the smokers are indulging in an unhealthy habit and the government is collecting taxes from it to fund child healthcare.

Much has been made of President Obama’s urge to light up. Recently he was contacted by an Illinois man, a Democrat who worried about Obama’s health because he had lost his father to lung cancer.

Vintage Ad For Murad Cigarettes

Vintage Ad For Murad Cigarettes

Chicago Tribune
April 21, 2009

It’s been 30 years since his dad died, and Michael Powers still misses him.
That’s why he wrote to President Obama urging him not to smoke so he could be there for his daughters…
Powers told Obama his dad, Benjamin, smoked three packs of cigarettes a day –and later died of lung, throat and bone cancer.
He enclosed a photo of his dad. It was returned in a sealed plastic bag with Obama’s reply, he said.

President Obama's Personal Handwritten Response To Michael Powers

President Obama's Personal Hand Written Response To Michael Powers

Isn’t Obama’s smoking habit his business? As an archivist, I admit that I do cringe at the thought of Obama smoking in the White House. Former President Bill Clinton was the first to officially ban smoking in the White house. What if Obama decided to allow it again?
Afrocity is grappling here. I want to be fair.


Anyone who examines the history of smoking will see that it is a hot button issue which creates social and political tensions. My love for the constitution and protection of individual rights sends red flags when I am confronted with various news on anti-tobacco legislation. My primary fear is that the anti-smoking culture is restricting liberty and is in need of an exercise in the reality of free will and the freedom to choose. In our quest to create a smoke free environment are we sacrificing the rights of the individual?
Beneath the veneer of concern for the public good are anti-smoking activists going to far.
Take this story in the Boston Globe for example. Now landlords can advertise “smoke free apartment buildings”.


Boston Globe
Landlords lead push to ban smoking at home
By Stephen Smith
Globe Staff / April 24, 2009

When apartment dwellers in Belmont, Calif., complained about cigarette fumes from down the hall, the City Council sprang into action on their behalf, outlawing smoking in apartments and condos and threatening to ticket violators.
When tobacco-control activists in Massachusetts embraced the same cause, they made a tactical decision that seemed surprisingly meek in a state long recognized for its prohibitions against harmful habits: They rejected the idea of governmental regulation.
It was one thing, they figured, for lawmakers to banish smoking from restaurants and bars. It was something else entirely to deploy city or state laws to prevent apartment tenants and condo owners from smoking in their own homes.
So, instead, they are leaving it to market forces, convinced that the supply side – landlords – will listen to the demand side – nonsmoking tenants – and adopt smoke-free rules.
It appears to be working.
“Now renting! Smoke-free apartment living” trumpets a banner billowing from a blocklong apartment house rising in the shadow of TD Banknorth Garden

It appears that Boston apartment dwellers are embracing this. My only question is what are the consequences? We are building these regulations on the foundation of public health and atop sentiments of disgust for all things tobacco ,but is it constitutional?

Stephen Helfer, who has fought on behalf of smokers’ rights for years, said there is nothing subtle about efforts that he argues will further marginalize the poor and the mentally ill, who smoke at rates higher than the state average.
“I think they’re trying to almost blackmail landlords into doing this,” said Helfer, who lives in a Cambridge condo where smoking is allowed. “The reason they are not trying to regulate it is because they feel they don’t have the political will right now. But make no mistake: They’re going after us in our homes.”
In many respects, the home represents the final frontier of tobacco control.

Is the right to smoke conceptually related to our civil liberties? The liberals seem to be the forerunners in the anti-smoking campaigns. Cigarettes are now over $9 in some areas. Please do not misunderstand. Yours truly, Afrocity is neither a smoker nor am I advocating smoking. I just know from experience that when it comes to the Democrats, raising taxes is habit forming and dangerous to our health. The same goes for restriction of our freedoms.



Autographed Letter Signed,



Diversity Fatigue Friday: “Meet The Press” Suffering From MicroDiversity April 24, 2009


For the past decade I have watched Sunday morning political commentary shows such as Meet The Press and George Stephanopoulos. I can’t say it has been enjoyable because I am usually yelling at the screen but nevertheless, I watch to hear realistic dialogue about current events.
I can say with certainty that I have never, never, EVER looked at the guests on Meet The Press and thought “Gee, there are never any black people on this show”

Apparently for one person’s narrative, there is always a counter narrative as I learned from visiting Black

Sunday Morning Talk Shows Showcasing More Blacks

AP Television Writer

NEW YORK (AP) — During a “Meet the Press” round-table earlier this month, NBC’s David Gregory turned to Rutgers University economist William Rodgers for an assessment of President Barack Obama’s overseas trip. Rodgers said he’d give the president a grade of either A-minus or B-plus.

There was nothing remarkable about the discussion. Yet Rodgers’ presence, his first time on “Meet the Press,” illustrated a quiet effort at improving diversity on the Sunday morning political talk shows.

Rodgers’ appearance marked one of 40 times a black American had been on one of the four broadcast shows this year, through April 12. During the same period two years ago, there were 25 appearances.

Gee one of 40 times…I can’t say that I have noticed. I was too busy grinding my teeth over the Obama bullshit that was coming from most of their mouths…with the exception of RNC Chairman Michael Steele. Because honestly if it was Donna Brazille, I know did not see race. I saw an Obama supporting disgrace and responded most vehemently by pushing the mute button. So No, I never noticed the skin color of guests on the show. Do African Americans honestly resent Meet the Press for not “showcasing” enough people of color? How many Asians have been on the show? Latinos? Women? Gay or Lesbian? Little People?

Meet The Press Hold Your Racist Head Down In Shame

Meet The Press Hold Your Racist Head Down In Shame

Even at a time the United States has elected a black president, these things are noticed. Michele Norris, host of NPR’s “All Things Considered,” said she hears some “attagirls” on the street after she’s been on a Sunday morning round-table. Ian Cameron, executive producer of ABC’s “This Week,” gets e-mails from the public about diversity.

The National Urban League Policy Institute was critical of the programs in a report issued four years ago that it called “Sunday Morning Apartheid.”

There is nothing more galling than having white people sitting around talking about black people, and that is often what happens during these shows,” said Richard Prince, who writes regularly on diversity for the Maynard Institute for Journalism Education.

Cameron said he first became conscious of the issue while working at a Canadian television network in 1989 and a Toronto Star columnist mocked a program for being little more than “three white guys talking about the economy.”

Ahem, aren’t those statements in bold racist??? Are there really white people who sit around and talk about black people on those shows? Currently, the color that is the topic of discussion is GREEN- as in the economy or the environment. There is that minor foreign incident in Israel. Hamas? Pirates…

Given that the article was already stressing me out enough, I was stricken with diversity fatigue by the time I reached the part where the interviewee attempted to justify that the call for more blacks on the TV shows was not analogous to implementing racial quotas.

“Two of the 40 appearances were by Obama himself, on “This Week” in January and CBS’ “Face the Nation” in March. “Fox News Sunday” had the greatest frequency of appearances by blacks, primarily because Juan Williams is a regular panelist. Norris made three appearances on “Meet the Press” during that time, according to figures compiled for The Associated Press by Media Matters for America.

More familiar faces included Gwen Ifill of PBS, U.S. Rep. Maxine Waters, Democratic strategist Donna Brazile and Bill Cosby. “

These are all liberals by the way, but who’s counting?

“It’s not about numbers,” she said. “It’s not about quotas. It’s not about window-dressing. It’s about the broadcast that you produce and are you doing the kind of journalism that is truly representative? Are you asking the right questions?”

Prince said he noticed the programs are making progress.

Still, improvement in this area may overshadow work needed in others.

Media Matters also measured the number of Latino guests or panelists on “Meet the Press,” “This Week,” “Face the Nation” and “Fox News Sunday” this year for the same period.

The count?


Hmmm, I thought you were not keeping quotas???. This Sunday, I will keep an eye out for more people of color. The news and commentary is a tinker’s dam. My duty under the new hopenchange mantra of Obama is to keep a running tally of the African Americans that appear on the show. It will make me sleep better at night knowing that I am being represented by Donna Brazille and Maxine Waters (grab wastebasket, stick face in and barf)

This really is a new era of that heralds the end of racism…Yeah right.


Autographed Letter Signed,