Autographed Letter Signed

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

Live From The Obama Fallout Shelter July 27, 2010

There are certain times in life, when I maneuver conflict more gracefully than others.  For the times I don’t,  I retreat. Which is why I have been a non blog posting flake for the last two months.  Remember the old Afrocity who used to post once or more a day?  What happened to her?  Did she turn liberal again? Is she floating in the Chicago River face down with a “Sarah Palin  is a Cunt” tee shirt tied around her neck?  Clearly the victim was strangled before she was murdered and it was staged to appear as though the right wing turned on the poor misguided African American conservative.

And here lies the question.

Who can you trust nowadays?

Honestly, (and my dear readers will never have me any other way)  there are days when both sides get on my nerves.  Yes liberal readers, Afrocity does get fed up with conservatives at times. The abortion issue is one of those times.   I do not need the Christian Coalition Against Choice task-force sending me emails every time I author a pro-choice piece.

“It is not about government interference or privacy, it is about murder and against God’s will…yada, yada, yada, yada”

Nothing will make me anti-choice.  Sorry conservative Charlie.  And while we are at it, nothing will ever make me protest gay marriage.  It is not my business.  Having said that, you will never see Afrocity at a gay marriage rally either.  I check my activism at the door when it comes to matters concerning religion, life, death, abortion and marriage.  Meddling often overrides political common sense.  Gay marriage and abortion, have no place in a political discussion.  Both issues unnecessarily divide women and men who may otherwise choose different political parties if the conflict did not exist.  According to liberals, Sarah Palin could never be a feminist because she is pro-life.   In the world according to ass,  pro-life women do not want equal pay or the right to vote.  Why would a pro-life woman care about matters concerning breastfeeding in public or day care?  Pro-life women must love getting sexually harassed at work.

Only liberal women care about that sort of thing you know.

Resolutions to the abortion issue will never follow my lifetime because really, both parties do not want the conflict to end.  It creates much needed political tension and division.

Without divisions, there would be no base.

And speaking of political division… Democrats, before you begin licking your donkey chops, you should know that conservatives- the group with whom  I identify with the most- annoy me far less than most liberals do.  Far, far, far, far less.

The liberal tourist traffic frequenting the FOX NEWS/New Black Panther Party drama coupled with the press attention over the NAACP and the Tea Partiers has of late rendered me politically tone deaf.  Although the NAACP was useful during some stage in American history, after taking a look at their website site recently, I do not know what the hell they are doing besides fueling… well…racism.

Take a look at the lovely online exhibit of racist Tea Party signs the NAACP has curated:

I cannot tell you what the NAACP hopes to accomplish with this. You cannot truly fight racism unless you first cut the cancer from your own hypocritical backsliding throat.  Racism is racism.  You cannot call it racism when it only effects your special interest group.

This is the NAACP’s  pledge to “repudiate racism” in the Tea Party

  • I believe all Americans have equal rights and equal value.
  • I cherish the diverse cultures, beliefs, and values of America.
  • I believe we can disagree without being disagreeable.
  • I repudiate all acts of racism and hate, both in words and action.
  • I have faith in the promise of America – a promise built on mutual respect, common civility, and hope for a better tomorrow.
  • I commit to building that better America by participating actively and peacefully in the democratic process.
  • We are one people. We are one nation. I’m an NAACP American

That last line really troubles me. I am an American first.  Yes I am an African American.  I am a female who happens to be black.  I am surely not an “NAACP American”.  What does mean anyway?  Exploring the pledge further makes me wonder if the NAACP actually followed their own advice in the past and enforced the PLEDGE when the following Democrats said:

You think the Republican National Committee could get this many people of color in a single room? … Only if they had the hotel staff in here.”–Howard Dean

I’ve seen a lot of white niggers in my time” – Robert Byrd

He [RNC Chairman Michael Steel]has a career of slavishly supporting the Republican Party.“–Democrat Steny Hoyer

He’s [Clarence Thomas]  married to a white woman. He wants to be white. He wants a colorless society. He has no ethnic pride. He doesn’t want to be black.” -California Democrat Diane Watson

Would the NAACP ever hang this picture at headquarters?

Where was the NAACP when Condeleeza Rice was branded an Aunt Jemima along with colorful images of her clad in a red do rag and mammy doll’s clothing?

Where was the NAACP when African Americans made racist remarks against Hillary Clinton supporters- especially black Clinton supporters?

“At the end of the day, Hillary is still a white woman.”

Those words were spoken to me by my aunt- a rabid Obama supporter.  Her worry was that black women would vote for Hillary over Obama because she was a woman.  Auntie was simply reminding her politically wayward niece that color trumps gender.    I will not get into the narcotic Kool Aid dependencies of Obamabots in this post, but I knew auntie was inhaling and sending her last dollar to the Obama campaign. Her will to see beyond race was compromised by her commitment to righting the political wrongs of slavery and bondage.  In essence , African Americans were becoming everything they used to hate.

What a sad delusion.

What an abysmal state of mind to be stuck in.

The Democratic party- the party of equal rights, tolerance, diversity and most of all liberalism, is on auto-destruct mode.  Such a reversal of misfortunates.  You were once racist against me so that give me the right to be intolerant and racist against you–FOREVER.

Within the analogy of annoyances between conservatives and liberals,  everything depends on what I can and cannot morally stomach.  I hate hypocrisy.  At least the religious/holier than thou trope has always been a staple amongst conservatives. Republicans are pretty consistent about being anti-choice, anti- government and self-knowingly quite hypocritical about it.    Along with the heavy moral quotient, regardless of any fallacies committed along the way, the elephant is usually not delighting in the enslavement of identity politics. The elephant does not suffer from amnesia when it comes to the Civil Rights Era.  The elephant is not involved in some KoolAid/cult of personality  addiction narrative that seems to follow their most successful leaders (Kennedy/Obama).   The elephant in my view is not dispensing hopium to its patients and quickly escaping on a jet to play a hundred rounds of golf in Hawaii.

Is all hunky dory on the right side of the tracks?

No, of course not.  I would be lying if I said it was.   I battle everyday to get conservatives to understand why some of us Americans want to be called African Americans.  If I want a hyphen, then damn-it I can have one.  When I expatriated from the Democratic Party, I did not stop being African American.  If the GOP wants more people of color , they will have to market the brand in a way that does not compromise the values of conservatives; while at the same time showing us that it is okay to be proud of one’s ethnicity.  No watermelon cart is needed.  You don’t need a reparations bill to get African Americans to join the conservative party. Just be yourselves and show them what you stand for and how it can benefit them.

Someone may listen.

I did.

Well, back to the shelter…I may crawl out in a few days when I run out of Beanie Weenies and Gatorade.  Visit if you choose but be warned… I do not allow Kool Aid or Barney Franks.

Autographed Letter Signed


PS:  Today is my mother’s birthday she would have been 71. It also means my birthday is in 6 days. We always spent the week together as a tradition. It will be lonely in the shelter this week.


Sunday Soliloquy: The Liberal Spook That Sat By The Door June 6, 2010

There are moments in my life when I wonder if  will I ever sufficiently recover from being a former liberal.

Is it possible that I could have a sort of jackass Democratic version of Stockholm Syndrome?

Like an old childhood friend that I have outgrown, there liberalism is at times, calling me when I do not want to be bothered.   The summer guest that just pops in your life with a duffel bag full of old memories and outdated viewpoints.   He comes in uninvited,  puts his feet up on your coffee table – right on top of the new Laura Bush book your were reading.  The leftie poltergeist takes control of the remote and turns the channel away from Fox News.

“Got any arugula? ”  he asks. “Better be organic.”

You see my  former liberal mindset captor never really goes away- not completely.

There is a scene in the first Twilight movie, where the main human girl–Bella is playing baseball with her new vampire pals.  Everything is proceeding idyllically.  You got your thunderstorm, your Matrix like double plays.  But wait!!!! You didn’t think that life would be that easy did you?   The mood swings, another group of vampires interrupt the game.  Human gir Bellal must pretend to be a vampire but the intruder blood suckers sense that something is amiss. They can smell it all over her.  SHE IS NOT ONE OF THEM.

Uh-oh.  Was I too naive to hope that liberalism would go away quietly into the night.   Abusive boyfriends never give up.  They become stalkers and you have to get a restraining order.  You can’t get within 200 feet of  Lilith Fair.   It knows your habits forwards and backwards.  The liberal junkie itch plagues you at the most inopportune moments like when you are at a Memorial Day service in let’s say Kansas…

Me at Memorial Day Ceremony last Monday, May 31st, 2010

You are driving away from a great ultra patriotic day when you look up and see a pro-life billboard with an unsettling picture of an aborted fetus in a garbage can.  Conservative friend mentions that they helped pay for the ad.   You smile at them.  Hey free speech for all…right?   Besides there is nothing wrong with both groups getting their point of view across.  Then conservative friend says:

“Women just like killing babies and until we stop them America will never be right with God.”

Until the above statement was uttered, you feel a sense of belonging with the conservative.  Just  moments after, the invisible left-wing reservists appear and take over your personality and mouth.

“Women should have a choice, ” says Afrocity multiple liberal personality #12.   “Abortion is a very private and personal matter. Republicans want limited government concerning taxation, business ….So why would you want the government interfering with the decisions we make about our bodies? “

The conservative did not agree with me but nonetheless, the conversation did not end in a salad bar brawl like it would have had I disagreed with an Obamabot.  No one left with alfalfa sprouts in their comb over or dreadlocks.

Is there ever a total cure ?  Or is liberalism like herpes?  One day your life is left wing wart-less then the next thing you know just when you want to get down and busy for an evening of scintillating discourse  with your conservative companion…BAM!!!  You have a sudden liberal herpes flare up.

The liberal imaginary stalker –texting me while I am having a meal with my new conservative friends.  Like the previous situation I mentioned.  One the exact same day, conservative buddies and I were discussing Obama’s abysmal foreign policy record.  Everything was fine- not a cloud in the political chit chat sky. No text messages from my estranged left wing friend- the ghost of Afrocity’s past.

However when the tide of  verbal mutterings turned to the situation in Arizona and need for diversity in our country,  an uncomfortable moment of the familiar liberal whiner enters the room.

Not again!!!  There is the liberal friend sitting silently by watching me.  The friend nudges me, kicks me underneath the table.  I wince at the prospect of sounding like a wishy-washy RINO- a  John McCain in brown skin clothing.

“Did she just say that gays should not be married?”  asks my imaginary estranged friend.

I kicked the pest back in the shin.  Go away! Shoo donkey fly.  We should secure our borders. If you are not a bleeping U.S. citizen or here legally, you should be deported.   The fact is, I was having a wonderful day.  Surely the most patriotic in my life.  I loved honoring the soldiers who served my country.  I loved embracing American values.  Somehow I never quite got that pill in my liberal diet.  Anytime I sounded “pro-American” around Democrats, I got shitty looks and criticism.  Now I can wear flag pins and support drilling in the U.S. without incurring a bloody nose.

Me having a post Memorial Day lunch at the Veterens Club.

Go away jackass.  I am in a good relationship now with people who respect my views and don’t reek of patchouli.

You are not here. You are in Dubrovnik- the tomb of the unknown liberal.

“Afrocity, may I ask you an honest question without your being offended?”

My conservative friend was addressing me and only me.  Gee I wonder what they are worried about offending me for.  I am a conservative too, right?

” Why do blacks want to be called African American and not just American like the rest of us?”

The room became silent as every conservative and my liberal imaginary stalker awaited my answer.

And the rest, I will leave for another post.

What will Afrocity do?  Is this the end of her as a conservative?  Or will she rise to the occasion and beat down the left wing “Hulk” menace that lies within?   Is there a cure to save her just in time???  TO BE CONTINUED.

Autographed Letter Signed,



Thursday Stitch n’ Bitch: I Too Sing For Black America October 22, 2009

sewing_of_flagToday’s post is dedicated to my new Facebook friend “Sylia”. Thank you for accepting me as I am.

Being considered “black enough” is something I have struggled with my entire life.  This is probably the one issue I did sympathize with presidential candidate Barack Obama on.  Did his Caucasian mother, Ivy League education, and light complexion exclude him for being black? Obviously not since over 95% of African Americans voted for Barack Obama. Had he been a republican candidate, I doubt the results would have been the same.  A sworn Democrat is the only way that one of African descent could ever be President of the United States of America.

After being called a derogatory name once again by an African American Obama supporter (who claimed to be a fiscal conservative yet she embraces Obama’s policies ????) it is clear that being a democrat is obviously essential to ones acceptance in the African American community. When I use the term acceptance I am referring to the sort of acceptance that means your are accepted unconditionally. Without names or prejudgments (which is actually prejudice) .  I am not referring to being the tolerated friend who gets dragged out of the closet when one needs an entertainment boost at the family picnic. You know the sort. I will pretend to respect your values until I am around my liberal friends/family and then I will join in on the can of verbal whoop ass against the black political sheep.

Any situation such as this should cause indignation and protest on the part of the black conservative but for various reasons, conservatives being conservatives, we are usually conservative about displaying our anger.  That is until you are like me and you snap. Not the going street on some folks kind of snapping you see on the Jerry Springer show, but rather the Afrocity no longer gives a damn sort of snapping.

A malnourished Somali child is wrapped in an American "Stars and Stripes" cloth at a therapeutic feeding center at Dagahaley camp in Dadaab in Kenya's northeastern province, June 8, 2009.

A malnourished Somali child is wrapped in an American "Stars and Stripes" cloth at a therapeutic feeding center at Dagahaley camp in Dadaab in Kenya's northeastern province, June 8, 2009.

The colors of the American flag are red, white and blue…How is it that America has become so black and white? How is it that Black America has become so rigid in its internal diversity that there is no allowance for dialogue which involves “alternative thinking”. Here alternative thinking is really not that alternative when one considers that Caucasians have frequent discussions on conservatism versus liberalism, religion, and sexual preference.  There are black conservative revolutionaries like Thomas Sowell who clearly see the destructive element among African Americans whose sole political identifications lie with the Democrats.  As a race we are devoid of true political understanding. A tension lies between what is logical or self advancing versus what is “black”.

Take for instance the situation with the mayoral race in Atlanta, Georgia.  Atlanta has typically always had a mayor of color, however this soon may change. From this article in the  Black Agenda Report:

From the Black Panther Newspaper, Image by Emory Douglass a frequent illustrator of the newspaper.

From the Black Panther Newspaper, Image by Emory Douglass a frequent illustrator of the newspaper.

The End of Black Politics As We Knew It: Will Atlanta’s Next Mayor Be White? Should We Even Care?

October 21, 2009

by Bruce A. Dixon

36 years of black Atlanta mayors have given birth to a thriving and empowered class of black managers, attorneys and contractors. But even after moving tens of thousands of poor blacks who once lived in public housing to areas beyond the city limits, fully one third of black Atlanta remains below the poverty level, making Atlanta number 5 in black poverty among the 40 largest US cities, according to current US Census data. So have the generation of black mayors and the crew that brought them in really done African Americans that much good?

The unfortunate answers are maybe, and maybe not.

The 1973 election of Maynard Jackson was supposed to be a great victory, among the first tangible fruits of the fifties and sixties Freedom Movement. The days of marching and striking and demonstrating and boycotting and defying unjust laws, black leaders told anybody who would listen, were over. It was time for those among us who were prepared by virtue of their educations, resumés, good suits and connections, to move into the corporate boardrooms that were now ready to accept them, and the political offices they could now be voted into. The mass movement which opened up those doors was disbanded and sent home. Collective action was to be a thing of the past, except for voting and patronizing black businesses.

Guaranteeing the prosperity of the black business class and the black elite, so the gospel went, was the indispensable key to the uplift of entire black communities. Because he assumed office at the beginning of Atlanta’s mega-airport construction project, Maynard Jackson was in a better position to prove this theory of black economic uplift than the first generation of black mayors in places like Newark or Gary or Cleveland. Jackson retained a visionary purchasing exec who skillfully leveraged mayoral power to spawn more than twenty new black millionaires in the first few years of his administration and lay the foundation for the thriving and empowered class of black contractors and professionals who dominate Atlanta’s political life today.

After 36 years, the results of this experiment are in. It’s a failure. Census data on black poverty rates in the 40 largest US cities reveal that the strategies of boosting black businesses, electing black officials, and locking in the prosperity of the black elite have done all those things without lifting black Atlanta any further out of poverty than cities like hard-hit Detroit or Chicago, which hasn’t seen a black mayor since the eighties, and both of which have lower densities of black businesses than Atlanta. In 2008 33.6% of black Atlanta was below the federal poverty rate, a higher number than Philadelphia or Columbus, higher than Houston or Memphis, or Kansas City or even Detroit. Nationally, Atlanta ranks number 5 in black poverty behind Milwaukee, Cleveland, Long Beach and Portland.

Atlanta has this alarming rate of black poverty despite fifteen years of one of the nation’s most aggressive efforts to bulldoze and clear lower income black neighborhoods.

In her book "Flag: An American Story," photographer Lauri Lyons documents our mixed emotions about the Stars and Stripes.

In her book "Flag: An American Story," photographer Lauri Lyons documents our mixed emotions about the Stars and Stripes.

Rather than caring whether or not a political candidate is of the right color and the right political party, shouldn’t we as African Americans be more concerned that the political candidate will do the right thing for our communities?  If most of America’s urban areas such as Atlanta are electing, black elites to office who continue to excel in their personal and professional lives, while their constituents continue to decline and lose their lives…then really what are we accomplishing by voting for such individuals?  Why are Chicagoans continuously electing the likes of Democrat Todd Stroger who raises sales tax to 10.25% in a city with 36% of African Americans below the poverty line?

Curse Afrocity for being a Republican all you want. Call me a slave, mammy, Auntie Tom. Accuse me of being a delusional black woman who curses my skin color every time I look at reflection in the mirror. I too sing for black America. I too care about our situation, but I will be damned if I am going to subvert my political freedom in order to pacify your need to adhere to the black political standard.

Autographed Letter Signed,



Liberal Hypocrisy Files: The Mammy Diaries October 6, 2009

mammyAh, another beautiful day in post-racial America…Where those who agree with the liberal agenda  are shining happy sheeple holding hands…but if you are not watch out. The racism boogie man will get you.

However there are racist lined clouds in the sky.

You were warned that no one is safe. Not even Afrocity.

During a recent Face Book exchange with two African American Obama supporters and a British liberal, I was called something rather disturbing.

The insult was one that will be familiar to many black Republicans. I was called a mammy.

To be fair I will give the proper context before I post her exact quote. The exchange was about the Chicago’s now failed  2016 Olympic bid and Obama’s trip to Copenhagen.

I jumped in and commented that Obama should have stayed in the U.S. .

I was then given a response that basically said how it is about time that an African American was representing (blacks) and the commenter said they feel “free”.

In turn, I responded that it was sad that she needed Obama’s election win to feel free and proud as an African American.

Her following response was this:

…there are African Americans with the “mamie” complex and “yes sir” complex-they will argue and die for their master…and yes, it was a low … Read Moreblow!! The lack of black consciousness in this country is not as common as you think (thank God) especially in the east coast..@ Afrocity-you’re a really smart woman no … Read Moredoubt…probably smarter than all of us combined (you are special…maybe you grew up with some money I presume?)…but you’re not a progressive thinker…you’re a limited thinker with a one sided message—a sound bite– you only speak from the mind not the heart! Clearly, there are whites who hate you because of your skin color…NEO CONS don’t roll with blacks. NEO CONS golf at country clubs while making business deals… and you will always be seen the as help…helping a cause that benefits the wealthy with health care and corporate jets!! good for you!! I’m not one to kiss ass… There is some deep seated issues which goes beyond the scope of politics with you…and you are projecting all the negativity from the black experience and unaware of an audience that view you in a different light than you see yourself…..

auntjemima_1The formative powers of post-racial America’s race card are also turning black republicans and conservatives into mammy dolls and Uncle Tom’s.

According to the commenter, I am

1. ignorant of the fact that white people hate me.

2. I never speak sincerely from my own heart.

3. …”roll” with NEO-CONS who don’t roll with me (?)

4. I am viewed by my fellow conservatives as “help”. In other words my Caucasian conservative friends/readers see me as their …maid…mammy, pickin’ cotton.

Like Condi Rice, Afrocity needs to go back to the Inner-City Racial Re-Education Camp

Like Condi Rice, Afrocity needs to go back to the Inner-City Racial Re-Education Camp

5. Also my readers view me in “different light” than I view myself.

negro-mammySo tell me white racist conservative readers.

How do you view Afrocity?

And please do not hold anything back.

1902 "topsy turvey doll" for self-loathing black conservatives like myself. Sometimes I like to pretend I am white you know.

1902 "topsy turvey doll" for self-loathing black conservatives like myself. Sometimes I like to pretend I am white you know. So I just lift up my skirt and presto change o' cotton balls...I am white just like that.

If you see me shining your Doc Martin combat boots, be honest and say so.

Envision me in your kitchen making chitterlin’ pineapple casserole? Speak up about it. Remove your white hoods so I can see your faces.

By all means confess your antebellum thoughts and desires. I can take it like a good slave.

Obviously I was a fool to actually believe that my conservative friends saw me as being an equal. I should have known when you failed to hand me a welfare application that you guys were all racist in your views.

How dare you praise me for uplifting myself from a childhood of reliance on government funding and homelessness!!! Why didn’t you send me an invitation to become Face Book friends with the food stamp fan club???


Autographed Letter Signed,


Oh. PS…Black male republicans don’t think you guys are off the hook either. Like yours truly, you are self-loathing black people and have an identity crisis.



Sunday Soliloquy: Afrocity’s Hellfire and Dalmatian Sermon September 6, 2009

English Oil Painting of Dalmatian

English Oil Painting of Dalmatian

On Friday I went out of town, hoping to avoid the bumper to bumper traffic, I decided to take the side street which cut through an old neighborhood I grew up in. I was both horrified and disappointed. It should not have been surprising to me because I had seen the streets just six months earlier. But somehow I can’t go back there without hoping to look at things with fresh eyes. I would have no such luck on Friday. African Americans were in the streets, literally in the streets, confronting cars asking for money, cursing. Huddles of gray haired men were playing dominoes with their pants hanging below their butt cracks.
It was hard to believe that I walked these very same streets during the 1980’s. Most of the stores I remembered are now closed. The signs are still there but the building facades were hollow shells. Even the police station I used to drop off abandoned kittens in was now boarded up and occupied by derelicts clinging to paper bagged bottles.

What was my local supermarket had turned into a “Dollar Tree” store. No need to worry about boycotting your local Whole Foods in this neighborhood. I would argue that even the marijuana is not organic. Does Odwalla make Tang?

On Friday, the prize for the neighborhood’s healthiest food selection went to Jimmy Chan’s Chicken Wing shack. 12 fried chicken wings for $3.I could see a young mom standing in Jimmy Chan’s plopping hot sauce on top of her chicken wings as her toddler son grabbed at her strawberry blond hair weave. Finally she stuck a wing in his small but grabby hands.

A chicken wing meal is okay every now and then but seriously, where are the grocery stores?  A couple of years ago, I was introduced to a sad and troubling term – “food desert”.

From Wikipedia:

A food desert is a district with little or no access to foods needed to maintain a healthy diet, but often served by plenty of fast food restaurants.

The concept of ‘access’ may be interpreted in three separate ways.

‘Physical access’ to shops can be difficult if the shops are distant, the shopper is elderly or infirm, the area has many hills, public transport links are poor, and the consumer has no car. Also, the shop may be across a busy road, difficult to cross with children or with underpasses that some fear to use because of a crime risk. For some, such as the disabled, the inside of the shop may be hard to access physically if there are steps up, or the interior is cramped with no room for walking aids. Carrying fresh food home may also be hard for some.

Map showing food deserts in Chicago. My old neighborhood is district 25. From Chicago Tribune.

Map showing food deserts in Chicago. My old neighborhood is district 25. From Chicago Tribune.

‘Financial access’ is difficult if the consumer lacks the money to buy healthy foods (generally more expensive, calorie for calorie, than less healthy, sugary, and fatty ‘junk foods’) or if the shopper cannot afford the bus fare to remote shops selling fresh foods and instead uses local fast food outlets. Other forms of financial access barriers may be inability to afford storage space for food, or for the very poor, living in temporary accommodation that does not offer good cooking facilities.

Thirdly, the mental attitude or food knowledge of the consumer may prevent them accessing fresh vegetables. They may lack cooking knowledge, or have the idea that eating a healthy diet isn’t important.

In some urban areas, grocery stores have withdrawn alongside residents that have fled to the suburbs (see urban sprawl). Low income earners and senior citizens who remain find healthy foods either unavailable or inaccessible as a result of high prices and/or unreachable locations.

In rural areas local fresh food outlets have closed leaving shoppers without cars in these areas with difficult access to healthy foods, as rural bus services have also declined. Whilst the idea of ‘food deserts’ in the early 21st century has mainly an urban flavour, the first case studies into difficulties faced by consumers accessing healthy foods were made in rural English villages. The Women’s Institute looked at the plight of elderly car-less widows left stranded by closure of village shops and withdrawal of bus services as far back as the 1970s.

dalmationAside from the hunting and gathering nourishment issues, I wondered where the children went to school and even more importantly, where are their leaders?

Here my use of “children” also extends to adults.

Where are the political leaders in this neighborhood?  Chicagoans elect an aldermen for every neighborhood. They are usually Democrats. There are no term limits. Once elected, they often do nothing for the districts they represent.

It is also not uncommon in Chicago for an alderman to be caught living in a wealthy part of town while serving a “ghetto”. Is this presently the case with my old neighborhood? I must say that things have certainly NOT improved since I left in 1989. Red roses used to bloom in front of some of the homes that are now condemned.  Street gang insignia has replaced the hopscotch chalk drawings on the sidewalks I used to play.

Now bevies of soon to be teen-aged moms were on the prowl. In the inner city, a common form of after school recreation is walking the streets with your girlfriends looking for boys (trouble). I tried it a few times myself when I was that age, though don’t think we were dressed as scantily as they are now.  Still, I only lasted the excursion for several blocks as my middle school friend Nan was far more boy savvy than I. Nan had proudly lost her virginity at 9 years of age while watching the movie Popeye in her cousins house. He had Showtime cable and all she wanted was to see a movie. She left that day with a lot less.

Nan’s mother, a welfare hound with 5 kids and no job was perhaps more beautiful and ambitious than my mother but not nearly as encouraging of Nan’s future out of the ghetto. If there was such thing as being ambitious yet a lifetime welfare recipient Nan’s mother was good at stealing men from their wives and getting half of their paycheck and a new gold chain. Nan admired her mother’s entrepreneurial spirit and  once told me that she knew the same thing would happen to her and it did. In college, I learned that Nan had three kids. We were only 20.


Now snapped back into 2009, I stopped at a red light. I kept my gaze off the man in the car next to me who was making eyes as two kids were fighting in the back seat of his rusty Toyota. At the corner, a boy was pressing his body against a girl that looked no older than 13. They were in an abandoned store front filled with nightclub fliers and empty beer cans. The girl’s hair was uncombed and kinky, her shorts were tight. She shoved the boy away but it was a teasing game. I wanted to approach her and say “please practice abstinence, stay in school” but the light turned green and it was not my place anyway. She will most likely be a mom by next year.

Children having children. Again where are the leaders? Again the police station once there was closed. A pretty good indication that you have officially slid south is when your own police station believes your neighborhood is too bad to stay in and the Mayor lets them leave.

The "Blue Light Special" in Chicago. These are boxes installed  by the city police to indicate high crime areas in Chicago's inner city.

The "Blue Light Special" in Chicago. These are boxes installed by the city police to indicate high crime areas in Chicago's inner city.

The only authority in sight was the Chicago Police Department’s “blue light” special cameras installed on the light posts. No sight was a suitable place to anchor my lust for a tiny moment of nostalgia until I saw the fire station. It was the place where I saw my first dalmatian.

dogs_17Wanting a puppy was a major part of my childhood, being homeless was a unfortunate situation Mother and I were in that did not lend itself to responsible  pet ownership. The fire station was the first place where I saw my dream, dog breed. On hot summer days there was an old woman who would sell snow cones. The 25 cent cups of shaved ice and coconut syrup would cool my mother down just enough to get us back home after carrying bags of groceries as far as 10 blocks. Stores had switched from paper to plastic bags. They were easier to carry but the plastic would stick to my skin while canned goods and boxes of powdered milk and eggs banged against my ankles. Taking the bus was not an option. We did not have the 50 cents, even for my reduced student rate. Eventually after trudging several blocks or so, we would stop to rest at a bench or sidewalk curb. Nearing the fire station meant that I may get a snow cone and take a peek at the Dalmatian who worked with the firemen. I never really knew much about the breed, just that I wanted one someday when I had a place of my own.

By now, I was back in friendly territory, with each passing block the neighborhoods got whiter and whiter. I had gone from African American neighborhoods to Latino neighborhoods, to the grunge hipsters of Wicker Park, to Michigan Avenue where the Chanel stores and Gucci handbag carriers resided. My apartment building was blocks away. Collecting my mail, I said hello to my friendly doorman and the urban professionals who I once watched from afar, now my neighbors walking pedigreed pups as they carried Starbucks iced coffee beverages and briefcases.

Francois and I

Francois and I

Despite the safety and serenity of my stainless steel applianced apartment, I could not take the images I had just witnessed back in “da hood” for granted.

My pal Francois greeted me with a wagging tail and nudge for food. There was a time when it seemed impossible that such a blessing would be within my grasp. Something I had always wished for was sitting right in my lap, a Dalmatian. She is my testament that we all turn a corner in our lives where we are responsible for materializing our  own happiness.

Saturday in an email battle, an impassioned Obama supporter labeled me as a hater and white person who was “hiding behind a black face” . Now successful and a Republican, I have somehow lost my membership in the black club.

The woman in the email seemed to have little idea about me or my past struggles. With a barrage of incoherent liberal talking points which she proudly declared as giving conservatives a dose of  “whup ass”, the woman tells me that GOP party chairman Michael Steele would “not be where he is today” if it were not for Barack Obama.

This assumption is beyond laughable. Michael Steel was destined to be everything Michael Steel he is and was before Barack Obama came onto the scene.

To suggest that the GOP only made him chairman of the party because of his race is highly hypocritical, especially coming from a liberal Democrat. This is further evidence that African Americans in the Democratic Party are beholden to the same old myth that blacks need Caucasians to hand us something in order to be successful.

This is why affirmative action is paramount to the livelihood of so many liberal minorities. Whites can never be trusted to actually hire a person of color on their own merits. At the time when Nixon enacted affirmative action, it culminated out of the days of segregated schools and civil rights demonstrations. Now the 40 year old government imposed system of quotas needs a face lift.

This woman’s remarks are a prime exemplify the psyche of the Democrat who is fixated on what blacks can’t achieve without the DNC or what I call on the plantation mentality.

Francois and IThere is no inspiration to be found in such ideologies. Shrewdly, though, the woman was quick to point out that I had left my blackness behind because I had left the Democratic party.

The dog in front of me was perfect. A blending of black and white all living on one body. A beautiful white background with black spots. Why can’t we be like this? A whimper and sad blue eyes told me that feeling chastised for being an African American Republican was the least of my worries. My dreams had turned into a living breathing reality. The spotted canine companion did not care who I voted for, she just wanted to be fed.

Autographed Letter Signed,


franny and I


Afrocity Speaks: All in the Same Boat August 21, 2009

Etching of a slave ship

Drawing of a 1860 slave ship taken from a a daguerreotype and published in Harper's Weekly (June 1860)

Like many of you, I  have been brimming over with many thoughts on the current political situation during the last several months. With an upcoming speaking engagement at a Republican event, I felt the need to give a video background of my beginnings as a conservative and also to  speak out against the phony claims of racism we have witnessed since oh say 2008.

Mainly, my taped inner dialogue surrounds one central question:

Should my being African American and a woman enjoy a privileged position in my voting decisions?

Slave ship interior

Slave ship interior

The most extreme “Afrocity is a vile race traitor” claims notwithstanding, I would like my readers to know that the solution to this question is not as simple as one would think.

A close reading of this blog will tell you that it is not always full of anti-liberal sentiment.  Poignantly exploring my political past, present and future through the lens of a forgotten child, underscores my desire to present my case for conservatism, equality and women’s rights in a way that hopefully even liberals can relate to. But how does a conservative explain themselves to a liberal? As I learned after creating this video, you don’t. Its creation seemed to get the goat of several liberal viewers as if they believed I was attempting to manipulate and convert unsuspecting watchers into right wing nuts that attack Obamacare.

slave-ship-2While this blog and video is an assessment of  my own political situation as an African American female, there are arguments posited  here that collectively effects us as AMERICANS whether we are Democrats or Republicans.

Growing up, I had witnessed my share of participation in government “help” programs.  I would think that any criticisms offered by me, stemming from my experience living through these should be valid and understandable. An accusation recently entered against me was that I received a free ride through college due to my mother’s financial situation. Did I receive a government Pell grant to attend college yes, did it cover my entire tuition NO. What did I do? I worked two jobs.  In fact I have worked since it was legally allowable for me to do so.  For what my parental figure did not do, I made up for it two times over.

While liberals love to hear sweet nothings, security blanket feel good about themselves, phrases such as “helping the unfortunate and downtrodden” , they never seem to articulate the distinction between helping and enabling.  In the Republican camp, such distinctions are made clearer especially among my fellow African American conservatives. Everyone I have encountered offers a unique experience of what it means to be of color and a conservative. Not once have I ever heard an echo of disdain for our race. Our collective response to the rising statistics of violence and teen pregnancy among African American youth is one of concern, which is not greatly different from those of our race who are Democrats.

This image is one of the earliest photographs of Africans being rescued from a slave ship by the British Royal Navy from the British National Archives.

This image is one of the earliest photographs of Africans being rescued from a slave ship by the British Royal Navy from the British National Archives.

Before any moonbat attack dropping are delineated  upon myself or other black conservatives like Michael Steele, Condeleeza Rice Thomas Sowell please bother to listen to where our conclusions on race and politics derive from.  In many of our accounts, you can hear the same tone of empathy and a desire to seek a political solution.  Without knowing that we are conservatives,  it  can hardly be argued otherwise that we are NOT BLACK.  The history and struggles of our race in America has inextricably bonded us in collective trauma that seem inescapable. Our DNA time machine puts us all on that boat.  However we should all embrace the fact that our country’s democracy and freedom of expression has rendered African American individuals with experiences and  ideologies that could not make us more different. Yes, we were all in the same boat but we are seeking to liberate and understand ourselves in a myriad of ways.

Autographed Letter Signed,



Moby Cop: Afrocity Becomes Targeted by Left Wing Moonbats August 18, 2009

afro blogger

I knew the day would come when the attacks on me would get personal. The moby cops have alerted me to some anti-Afrocity moonbats. Come to think of it, I have noticed an increase of moby-ish comments being made here. As you can see from the picture above, this is pretty much Afrocity in her blogging habitat, dalmatians and all. See me sleeping peacefully…laptop in starting position…just another innocent blogger.

Unbeknown to me was that Afrocity has a hater base.

Postings and comments about me from Padagon another blog.

Ways To Get Me Malcolm X On Your Ass

Batsh*t CrazyRace

A word of advice.  Well, a few words, actually.

If you are a conservative black person trying to convince the overwhelming majority of black people to stop voting for Democrats, do not call us ”original recipe dark pieces of chicken”.  Similarly, if I want you to vote for Democrats, I will not call you a retrograde shitstain on Michael Steele’s Lando Calrissian Underoos.



“I refuse to read anything Afrocity writes until I see his original Kenyan birth certificate.”

“OMG, on top of dehumanizing blacks , Afrocity was deeply misogynist and she is a black woman ?

Self hatred doesn’t begin to describe it. What’s next ? Afrocity is jewish and carries Obama = Hitler posters ?”

Since Panda bat mentioned shit stains, I will take a moment to mention what I think about things one finds in one’s pants but would rather not discuss.  At the point when I received an email with an animated gif of a burning cross, compliments of one of your readers, I felt the need to speak. Firstly thank you Panda for sending readers my way. Any attention is good attention. Autographed Letter Signed received over 1,000 extra hits due to your post about me. (thumbs up, wink)

Blog wars are shit stains. I do not participate in them because I feel that a person’s blog is an expression of their creativity. That being said, I will never comment or devote an entire post to a blogger. I just don’t give a fuck to be honest with you and only a loser would go trolling blogs just to find opposition material for their own blog.  I will comment about news stories or events and that is about it.  Most of my content is derived from my heart and experience as an African American woman. If anyone has a different experience great. Go blog about it.  And don’t try that moby shit. It wont work here. What is a “moby”  you may ask?

From Urban

1. moby

An insidious and specialized type of left-wing troll who visits blogs and impersonates a conservative for the purpose of either spreading false rumors intended to sow dissension among conservative voters, or who purposely posts inflammatory and offensive comments for the purpose of discrediting the blog in question.

The term is derived from the name of the liberal musician Moby, who famously suggested in February of 2004 that left-wing activists engage in this type of subterfuge: “For example, you can go on all the pro-life chat rooms and say you’re an outraged right-wing voter and that you know that George Bush drove an ex-girlfriend to an abortion clinic and paid for her to get an abortion. Then you go to an anti-immigration Web site chat room and ask, ‘What’s all this about George Bush proposing amnesty for illegal aliens?’”

The strategy has been frequently attempted on conservative blogs, but has not been nearly as effective as Moby envisioned, since false rumors are easily debunked by fact-checking minions, and cartoonishly extreme commenters often get immediately identified as mobys and banned.

If you see any moby activity on my blog, please let me know. This includes if it is PUMAs

There are no “birthers” here or Death to Tiller fans.

I also despise blogs that devote themselves to hating other blogs such as the unmentionable anti-PUMA blogs.

This is the last I will speak of this, and frankly I find it humorous. But really, there are more important things for bloggers to post about than me.

Fly  along  moonbat, nothing to see here.  No one has to “convince” African Americans to stop blindly voting for Democrats. They are in a prison cell with the door wide open and no guard.  Remember, admitting you are codependent is step one.

Autographed Letter Signed,




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