(Akiit.com) I just won’t give John Mayer a pass on his racist’s and misogynistic comments in a recent Playboy interview. You gotta draw the line somewhere and he’s definitely crossed it.

When asked if black women interested him he commented, with a few choice expletives for emphasis, he said he doesn’t open himself to black women because his genitalia “is sort of like a white supremacist.” In that same interview he also said he has a Benetton heart but David Duke genitals – he actually used another word but I won’t.

Obviously he is obsessed with his genitals and obviously he felt free to evoke his white supremacist card as he snuggled into the interview. After all, it was just Playboy Magazine and who reads that anyway? It was a rambling and revealing look into the mind of this artist. The light is on . . . and you know the rest.

He may have recorded a catchy hook in his Grammy Award winning anthem “Waiting on the World to Change,” but he’s on the hook for this remarks. He has branded himself with a new label – supremacist. Way to go John-Boy.

I got a few questions to ask. Is he truly crazy! Is he on drugs? Has he lost his freaking mind?

Could you characterize this as a tongue and cheek unguarded moment where loose lips ran wild?

Au contraire mon cheri! Now you know this has gotten under my skin when a sistah starts throwing in some French to make her point.

My mom always says, and this is a quote loosely translated from the Bible, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” And I appended that once you say it, you can’t take it back because you meant it. That statement was in his heart, part of his fiber, infused in his marrow. That’s why it slid out of his month with such ease. You can’t blame it on the alcohol Mayer.
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(Akiit.com) Director Antoine Fuqua has been chasing the shadow of his biggest hit-to-date, Training Day, for almost a decade. After that breakout success, (for which Denzel Washington won a much-deserved Academy Award for best actor) Fuqua’s subsequent films have disappointed either commercially (King Arthur), critically (Shooter) or both (Tears of the Sun). With his latest, Brooklyn’s Finest (which opens Friday, March 5), Fuqua is finally back in his comfort zone–the police thriller–and although this work doesn’t come close to surpassing Denzel’s classic–it is at times a worthy successor.

Working off a script by first time writer Michael C. Martin, Fuqua weaves three stories of three veteran cops–one retiring (Richard Gere), one undercover (Don Cheadle) and another hopelessly corrupt (Ethan Hawke)–all based in Brooklyn. The common thread all three men share besides location is that while they are all inherently decent men they are also morally compromised and challenged in one way or another.

From the opening shot until the final frame–this film grabs you. It’s beautifully shot (on location in Brooklyn) and once they get going each one of the main storylines manages to really hold your interest and build in tension. Gere’s Eddie Duggan is lonely, suicidal and derided by his fellow officers as a “burnout“. He is forced to mentor unreliable rookie officers during his last week on the job. When all he wants is to be left alone, Gere’s character keeps being drawn back into perilous situations. Hawke’s Sal is struggling to make ends meet with a sick wife pregnant with twins and several other children to provide for. He finds himself stealing drug money to finance a new home. Finally there’s Don Cheadle who has taken on the alter-ego “Tango” and has gone deep undercover to help bring down a drug kingpin named Caz (played by Wesley Snipes) who has recently been released from prison. His eagerness to attain promotion within the police department has isolated him from not just his colleagues but from his family as well.

While the film is never boring, Fuqua takes a lot of time to set up his three protagonists. This is a good thing. He is aiming for the film to be a parable about flawed men forced to make difficult choices and there are a lot of religious overtones–from a darkly funny confessional scene featuring Hawke to a cameo from a black Jesus–but it’s the pulse pounding, cross-cutting suspense sequences that keep you on the edge of your seat.
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(Akiit.com) Slam Simpson and Dennis Rodman, if you must, but a black man in drag is no disgrace to black history.

Far be it from me to parse the motivations of the California schoolteachers who presented portraits of O.J. Simpson, Dennis Rodman and RuPaul during a Black History Month parade. Perhaps they were well-meaning, albeit misguided, in their efforts. Probably not. At any rate, there’s been (predictably) a great hue and cry from those charging that the contributions of black folks were being mocked.

I’d be the last person to defend O.J. (I’m convinced that he did it) or Dennis Rodman (clearly he’s got, shall we say, issues).

But I will, however, defend RuPaul, drag diva/author/singer/actor and host of Logo TV’s RuPaul’s Drag Race. Why lump him in the same category as a convicted felon and a fallen basketball star who’s pled no contest to domestic abuse? Sporting stilettos and a blond wig while possessing no small quantities of testosterone does not prevent one from qualifying for black hero status.

Drag does not equal disgrace.

The outcry over RuPaul’s inclusion in the Black History Month parade has a lot to do with the black community’s continued issues with homophobia and outdated notions of rigidly defined black masculinity. As The Root’s Natalie Hopkinson noted in her excellent dissection of the Sidney Poitier syndrome, our yearning for “positive imagery” means that, more often than not, we like to see our heroes wrapped in neatly inoffensive packages, superheroes “slaying racial stereotypes.” An Amazon armed with tucking panties, corsets and platinum lace-front wigs doesn’t fit neatly into our pre-assigned notions of race and gender.

“I’m not convinced this was an accident. Three white teachers pick Simpson, Rodman, and RuPaul … arguably the three worst picks for black personalities, for their Black History showcase? Not buying it … sounds like they’re smearing the whole practice of the history month,” wrote one Los Angeles Times reader.
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(Akiit.com) One of the slogans of President Clinton’s 1992 Presidential campaign was “Putting People First.” Those three words gave voice to the growing feeling in the country that the people’s needs were not being put first - the political saga playing itself out in New York State is just the latest evidence for an increasingly cynical America that in fact, it’s not about them anymore.

Unfortunately, just as he stubbornly refused for far too long to accept that his candidacy for governor was not viable, Governor Paterson can’t seem to recognize that it’s not all about him. Seriously, Governor Paterson, when you’ve got Reverend Al calling a meeting at Sylvia’s, you shouldn’t wait to be asked, it’s time to do the right thing, put the needs of the people first, and step down.

Having been elevated to governor in the wake of Eliot Spitzer’s scandals, Paterson should recognize that while he might think (and even deserve) he has the right to fight, maybe doing so while sitting in the governor’s office is not what’s right for the people of the state of New York. No doubt New Yorkers have scandal fatigue and the scandals have not been contained in one party.

Earlier this year New York State’s comptroller Alan Hevesi stepped down in the wake of accusations that he had used his staff to run private errands and selling access to New York’s pension fund. Joe Bruno, the Republican New York Senate Majority leader was convicted of taking bribes, and just yesterday Congressman Eric Massa announced that he was not going to run again for “health reasons“, never mind the accusations of inappropriate advances made to a staffer. Beyond the various scandals, New York is in real financial trouble, currently facing the need for “extraordinary cash measures“, including withholding about $1.4 billion of payments in March for school aid, tax refunds or not-for-profit groups who provide state services.

Like most Americans, New Yorkers are fed up with a broken system that allows elected officials, celebrities and CEO’s live by one set of rules where their actions are not tied to the consequences, while the rest of us live in the real world where we just don’t have that luxury. It cuts against a fundamental American value that there should be some sense of fairness, or at least the opportunity for fair treatment. The scandals are not contained to the public sector, news about bank bailouts and Toyota withholding critical information about its cars to protect its profits all contribute to an underlying sense that something is seriously broken, and we the people are getting pushed farther and farther out of the picture.
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(Akiit.com) Within the last few years the popularity of reality television shows has sky-rocketed thanks to the obscene violence and dramatic “characters.” However, much credit is also given to black cast members and both A and B-list celebrities that have their own programs.

Black Reality Show

The minute-by-minute excitement and constant fighting is what keeps viewers fixated on the 30-minute to 1-hour long episodes. The method is simple: find either an overly aggressive black woman and a lazy black man or even a relatively high-profile celebrity, give them a script–and audiences will eat it up. The combination of “reality” TV and celebrities has audiences craving more of the glamour and glitz of the fake lifestyles being portrayed (e.g. Harlem Heights, Baldwin Hills). No matter what you do, you can’t hide from these shows.

You can turn the television off or simply change the channel, but most viewers become reality TV junkies. By adding an emphasis on materialistic excess, plus a black celebrity and a heavy dose of drama, you will definitely have a hit show with at least three more seasons to burn.

In 2006, the world was introduced to the reigning king of black reality television–Flavor Flav. As the one-time hype man for Public Enemy, Flav decided to try his luck at finding love on his own show, Flavor of Love. On the show 20 female contestants wear skimpy outfits and participate in humiliating competitions in order to win the chance to date Flav, all while living in “his” mansion in Los Angeles. The iconic rapper is a prime example of how to become a reality TV star and how to keep the audience tuned in and drooling for more. With the highest ratings of any show on VH1 at that point, Flav let cameras into his world of debauchery and rowdy antics while keeping up with his luxurious lifestyle bankrolled by VH1. Many critics and viewers saw the raunchy spoof of the dating series The Bachelor, as racist and demeaning to African-Americans while others seemed to get a chuckle out of it every once and a while.
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