Monday, May 31, 2010

Corinne Stevie & Ka'Ra Kersey present "LAND OF THE FREE" + New Atlanta Shows



You ready to get free? Nothing will take you there like Corinne Stevie & Ka'Ra Kersey's new project "Land of The Free." The eight track project was produced & written by Corinne & Ka'Ra.

The new age anthem "Our War 2 Freedom" opens the EP. By the time the war horns start on "Mo'Ammo" you know these ladies musically have something to say. The dub-step inspired "Turn Off," the self-love anthem "Amazing" and Corinne's clever freestyle "Water" are among the EP's many highlights. Download "Land of the Free" below.

Corinne Stevie & Ka'Ra Kersey present "LAND OF THE FREE"
1. Our War 2 Freedom
2. Mo'Ammo
3. Amazing
4. Ne More
5. Onion
6. Turn Off
7. Amber's Chrome
8. Water

Download: Corinne Stevie & Ka'Ra Kersey present "LAND OF THE FREE"


For Booking & Press Contact:
Kendrick at


- June 18
  ART STARS  at WonderRoot
Doors open at 9PM
982 Memorial Drive Southeast
Atlanta, GA 30316

- Aug 4
FAME NIGHT  at Slice
Doors open at 10PM
259 Peters Street
Atlanta, GA 30313

- Aug 20 

at WM Turner Gallery
w/ Jay Scott

112 Krog Street Northeast
Atlanta, GA 30307-5519

- Aug 26 
112 Krog Street Northeast
Atlanta, GA 30307-5519

Art Nouveau Media Group


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War(rior) Women: For Harriet, Shoshana, and All the Rest


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When I think of Black women's relationship to the military, to war, and to soldier narratives more generally, I'm reminded that our motivations are often times fundamentally different and that our stories, like our lives, are unfairly ephemeral,  fading quickly into the background.

Black feminism would not be the same without one Black female war hero in particular: General Harriet Tubman. During the Civil War, Tubman planned and executed the only military campaign in U.S. History to be led by a woman. The result of her action at the Combahee River freed 750 slaves.  It was Harriet's heroics at Combahee that led Black feminist activist Barbara Smith to name the venerable Black feminist group of the 1970s the Combahee River Collective. Smith said that the name "was a way of talking about ourselves being on a continuum of Black struggle, of Black women's struggle." And without Harriet, without Combahee, without Barbara Smith, a warrior in her own right, there would be no Crunk Feminist Collective, no model of fierce female activism for this generation.

I think, too, of 2003, the year that Shoshana Johnson, became the first Black female prisoner of war for 22 days. She was held captive in Iraq, and upon release, her story was dwarfed by the story of Jessica Lynch a fellow P.O.W., who received a multi-million dollar book deal. Both of these women were heroic, and both women's stories deserve to be told. Not just Jessica's.  But Jessica challenged soldier narratives because she was an ultra-feminine, dainty, blonde-haired white woman. Her challenge to the dominant masculine narratives of our military are welcome. But like so much of the history of white and Black women and feminism, the Black woman in this scenario was overlooked. Perhaps because America was honest enough to admit that Black women aren't new to war, aren't new to prison, aren't new to violence on behalf of this nation. Perhaps because Shoshana's dark-skin and Panamian features rendered her distinctly unfeminine and made her labor of love more cursory—obligatory— expected. Whatever the case, Johnson was a recipient of the Purple Heart, Bronze Star and P.O.W. medal. Her memoir I'm Still Standing: From Captive U.S. Soldier to Free CitizenMy Journey Home was released this year by Simon & Schuster.

So on this day, I will remember all the sisters who have fought  and are fighting for us to be free. And I am reminded that when Harriet fought, when Shoshana fought, when Ida and Sojourner, and Rosa, and Ella, and Fannie, and Angela fought, they fought for a realer more robust definition of freedom. One that recognized the fundamental humanity of all people, no matter color, gender, religion, sexuality, class or ability.  They understood that U.S. does not have a monopoly on freedom or a mandate to take liberties with the livelihood of others.  These women are the authors of my freedom songs, and it is them I remember today.

For all those sisters who are literally at war and the families missing them at home, I dedicate to them the new video from Trey Songz (I know, y'all—but  as contemporary representations of Black love go, this is one of the better ones). And to every sister fighting for us overseas, on war-torn urban city blocks, and in every place of struggle, I simply wish them: peace.


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if you are watching


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via guerrilla mama medicine by mama on 5/31/10

via jaded hippy and fuck yeah socialism

"If you're watching this that probably means
that the flotilla has either been attacked or stopped at sea"
Pre-recorded distress video from a freedom flotilla activist. it's a
call for civil society to mobilize support.

funny how i was just writing about this yesterday.  what support can look like.  and why it is important that we are willing to be creative enough to support each other.

gazan palestinians were waiting for the flotilla on the beaches.

and waiting for the rest of the world to give a fuck.


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Israel Attacks Freedom Flotilla


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Commencement Season: On Not Going to College


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via Black Youth Project by Summer M. on 5/31/10

And to think blacks spend all this money on big colleges, still most of y'all come out confused. -- Arrested Development

A few weeks ago, N's daughter, E came into the living room, and asked us if she'd be "ruining [her] life" by traveling for a few years after high school before she went to college.  Now E is all of ten; the other month she wanted to become a therapist, now she's on this fashion designer tip.  So these kinds of questions can be expected, and I imagine that as of this writing she's completely forgotten that she even asked the question.  Right now, the only thing she consistently loves is basketball, text messaging, and playing the saxophone.  (She's really good at the latter; been invited to play at 8th grade graduation and everything.)  We advised her that she would not be ruining her life by deferring enrollment into college, and in fact encouraged her to see the world, whenever and however she chooses.  Consequently, she seemed less anxious about the whole thing (she's very sensitive).

E's angst isn't unique, nor is it endemic to pre-t(w)eens.  I have felt, and in many ways still feel a similar trepidation about charting a particular course for my life.  And I don't think I'm alone.  For those students--especially black students who are inculcated with the philosophy that education is the key to any and all success--who are placed on the college track instead of the penitentiary one, the pressure to choose the right college, the right major, the right career, the right life most likely becomes especially palpable around high school graduation.  The idea that an 18-year-old has a decent idea about what she wants to do in life is absurd.  Yet that's what we demand of these new adults who can officially join the Army, but not legally drink alcohol.  So, at the risk of being ex-communicated from the Black Youth Project blog, I suggest that we should explore the possibilities of not going to college right out of high school.

My mom, Black Betty Crocker (she bakes a lot), has a lot of weird theories (the apple does not fall far…), one of which is that we should do things in reverse.  In other words, she thinks older people should work and younger people should do things we associate with retirement, like waking up early for no reason, taking up hobbies, and water aerobics.  I think she has a point.  If one believes that one can live a purposeful life, then one might want to live a bit of life in order to determine one's purpose.  When we compel kids to go to college and major in something they think they might be interested in, we don't necessarily allow them to figure out what they might be actually interested in.  And with the price of higher education, one can't spend too much time exploring.  Now, I know a lot of kids go to school so that they can, indeed, get a good job and make (more) money.  Their parents want them to do better than they did.  They can barely afford to go; they can't afford not to go.  When I finally changed my major from whatever it was before I switched to English--after assuring my folks that I'd still finish in four years--my stepdad was on his, "Well you know you can't really make any money with that," game.  My stepdad's fears were somewhat warranted.  X years later and I've yet to work a real job.  Besides, you can't be overly concerned with the luxury of finding yourself when more immediate needs are pressing.  Still, I can't help but imagine that the twilight of our teen years and our 20s would be less miserable if we weren't sitting in our dorm rooms angst ridden by the reality that we would have never majored in accounting had it not been for that one test the guidance counselor gave circa junior year.

What if the average college freshman were 25?  What if instead of channeling students into institutions of higher education, we encouraged them to learn about their environment by actually engaging with the world instead of a textbook?  What if we abandoned our obsession with youth, with being the first to do something and instead pursued an objective conducive to something more than young age?  Perhaps my suggestion merely prolongs the inevitable or cuts down on the number of participants in drinking games.  I don't know what kind of infrastructure we'd have to create for such a thing to actually happen.  Still, I just think if you're going to pay back all those student loans and you majored in pre-law, you should actually really, really want to become a lawyer.

Either way, congratulations to any and all high school graduates.  Don't let those cranky adults force you into immediately determining and declaring what you want to do.  If you don't know, you don't know.  You'll figure it out soon enough.

It's a different world out there.  Discover it.


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"Eventually I realized I had covered the wrong story. The important point wa...


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via maia medicine on 5/31/10


Eventually I realized I had covered the wrong story. The important point wasn't that Exxon couldn't clean up its oil spill. The point was, no one could clean it up.

By telling the story of the company's incompetence, we had perpetuated the myth that real cleanup of a major oil spill is possible. We had left the industry free to say that next time, with proper preparation and equipment, they would be able to recover any spilled oil.

The truth is that when large amounts of oil go into the ocean, it's a huge success to recover as much as 10 percent. More than that is rarely possible. Oil spreads too rapidly and reacts too quickly with the environment; and the ocean is a challenging place to work, especially considering the logistics of speedily gathering up a blob the size of a small state.



From A Spill's Dirty Secret on SEED Magazine (via uzairm) (via abagond)


(via ilykadamen)

(via so-treu)

(via thingsimreading)


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Dear Kiely, Pt. II


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Male and Female Leads of Obvious Child wait in waiting room of abortion clinic

Hello Kiely,

Moya here again :)

I hope all is well in your world. I came across a short movie that reminded me of a question I'd asked in my initial letter to you. I wanted to know what a consensual one night stand without a walk of shame might look like.

Take a look; I think it's pretty awesome.

Obvious Child from Gillian Robespierre on Vimeo.

It'd be nice to see people of color make a film like this, no? It would also be nice if to baby or not to baby weren't the only question raised. I suppose because the condom broke they felt the question of STI's  had been addressed.  And I'm sure for a lot of women of color it might not be quite this idyllic. And a horrible break up, that precipitates the drunken encounter, that  creates the possibility that a one night stand might turn into a relationship, is doing its own moralizing work.

Nevertheless, I thought you might enjoy seeing what's possible in terms of visuals with a message these days. I do get the sense that "the sex was spectacular," that she consented, even if she didn't remember dude's name.

Would love to know what you think Kiely, and if it makes you think about your own video any differently.


Moya B

*This open letter is part of the FAAN Mail project. Click here to learn more*


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Sunday, May 30, 2010

selva:murda:radiofreemarswise man is wise


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Poets for Living Waters


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via maia medicine on 5/30/10

Poets for Living Waters:



Poets for Living Waters is a poetry action in response to the Gulf Oil Disaster of April 20, 2010, one of the most profound man-made ecological catastrophes in history. The first law of ecology states that everything is connected to everything else. An appreciation of this systemic connectivity suggests a wide range of poetry will offer a meaningful response to the current crisis, including work that harkens back to Hurricane Katrina and the ongoing regional effects. Please submit 1-3 poems, a short bio, and credits for any previously published submissions to: via poetrynews


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Saturday, May 29, 2010

nezua: abagond: samejeans: vickygreens: madeinlabxtch: fashi...


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via maia medicine on 5/29/10











I am overwhelmed with this much beauty in a simple photograph.

^ I want to tell you I Love You for calling the "Locs" instead of "dreads". A little known fact for the ones that don't know. The "white man" started the terms "Dread Locs" or "Dreads". "Dread Locs" come from them saying…"Look at those 'dreadful' locs". And it has been shortened to "dreads" over the years. You will hardly ever or never hear a Jamaican or Caribbean guy with Locs calling the "dreads". 

lol, who ever said that whole "white man" starting the term dread, is terribly wrong. and i like how they say Jamaican or Caribbean guy, like those are the first and only people to have dreads. word to mother son, shutup.

yes, because bob marley wrote Natty Dread under the spell of the White Man. FOO'! 

—yeah in my experience, the folks who say 'locs' are usually more boho middle class black folks who get their locs done by a professional and want to distinguish themselves from the more lower-class folks with 'unkept' natural hair.  'dreads' are for those who rock it old school.  maybe this is just where i grew up in dc metro area.  but the first folks i knew who wore dreadlocks were caribbean women and they called them 'dreads' for short. 


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Friday, May 28, 2010

Just Wright or Not Quite Right: Queen Latifah Kissed Common, Yuck?


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via Black Youth Project by Fallon W. on 5/28/10

Do you remember back in 94' when you were about 13 years old watching Jason's Lyric for the first time when you probably shouldn't have been because the movie was rated 'R,' and you were suppose to be cleaning your room? Do you remember the feeling of preteen girl giddiness, one hand over one eye, watching the scene where Jason Alexander intimately rubs Jada Pickett's feet on the banks of the river? Do you remember feeling not quite right about watching the scene because it was sexually graphic—sex on the banks of some Texas' bayou—and because your momma specifically told you not to watch the movie, but, being a hormonal sexually curious preteen you watched one hand over one eye anyway? Yes, I remember.

And I remember feeling the same way as I watched the movie, Just Wright, starring Queen Latifah, Common, and Paula Patton. Honestly, I felt not quite right watching Queen Latifah and Common make-out on the silver screen. When Common kissed Queen Latifah, I felt as if I was once again a pimply pubescent girl giggling senselessly with one hand over one eye at a sex scene. It was weird and I know for a fact that I was not the only one in the movie theater who cringed, giggled, shifted in seat, placed one hand over one eye when they kissed . . . saying to yourself over and over and over again, "Something about this is not quite right."

Could it have something to do with the fact that people speculate about Queen Latifah's sexuality—"Y'all know she's a lesbian . . . I know she slept with Tatiana Ali . . . Y'all saw her lick the woman's leg in Set It Off"? Could it have something to do with the fact that Common is the leading man in a romantic drama? Could it be that we only see Queen Latifah playing comedic asexual roles such as Charlene in Bringing down the House and as Motormouth Maybelle in Hairspray? Could it have something to do with the fact that most leading ladies in romantic dramas are sizes 0's and -1's, not sizes 14 plus (i.e. Queen Latifah says, "I ain't one of those salad eating girls") and the color of ivory?

Honestly, I think it is all of the above. Besides the fact that there was no on screen chemistry between Common and Queen Latifah, it was hard for me to watch them kissing and having sex. Of course, they did not show them having sex. They only showed clips of them kissing and holding each other in the bed. However, given the curious anxiety I felt and others in the theater felt, they might as well have shown them groping, panting, and humping each other. It was that awkwardly intense.

Mind you, I understand discriminatory sexual politics of disbelieving that Queen Latifah could star in a leading romantic heterosexual role. I know that if she was seen to be bi-curious, but ultra feminine and stereotypical male gaze sexy like Nicki Minaj then perhaps we would accept her kiss with Common as people have accepted the fact that Nicki Minaj likes ménage trio, signing women's boobs, and smacking big ole ghetto booties. Perhaps, we would not place one hand over one eye while watching the movie. Perhaps, we would not feel awkward watching the movie and see the movie as just right.

So, was I the only one who felt awkward while watching the movie?


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Thursday, May 27, 2010

This is a song for the genius child. Sing it softly, for the...


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via on 5/27/10

This is a song for the genius child.
Sing it softly, for the song is wild.
Sing it softly as ever you can -
Lest the song get out of hand.

Nobody loves a genius child.

Can you love an eagle,
Tame or wild?
Can you love an eagle,
Wild or tame?
Can you love a monster
Of frightening name?

Nobody loves a genius child.

Kill him - and let his soul run wild.

- Langston Hughes


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Troubling the Water


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via The Crunk Feminist Collective by ashaf on 5/27/10

My godsister joined my small, home church on Sunday, just days after she turned five. She'd been asking my grandfather/pastor (GP), "So when I'mma get baptized?" since she was two. My cell phone began to blow up at 1:30 on Sunday– our church is still small enough for everyone to care about a tiny girl whose legs dangle off the come-to-Jesus chair. I should be as happy as her grandmother, as proud as her mother, but I'm afraid. My godsister joined my small, home church on Sunday, just weeks after GP quietly removed me from the list of associate ministers for being pregnant "out of wedlock."

In 20 weeks or so, my own baby will be baptized into the community of humanity. I am afraid. Baby will break water and enter the world under a spotlight, screaming in justifiable rage, trembling and trying to find my scent amid the smell of antiseptic. Baby will be tossed, scrubbed, pricked, weighed, wrapped and finally placed in my waiting arms. But I won't be able to hold my baby for as long as it takes to keep him or her safe. I don't have to list the dangers of being born brown; the world outside my waters is cold and unfit for this child I already love.

There are also dangers in being born-again female in a holy patriarchy. I project my birthing fears onto my godsister, my heart's daughter who will rise from the baptismal pool trembling and trying to find the holy Mother's essence in a religion that has all but erased Her in the antiseptic scripts of the fathers. She will be asked one question before baptism: "Do you believe that Christ died for your sins?" Her affirmation will mark her readiness for transformation, for acceptance into the large community of Christians and the small community of my home church.

 I offer a few more questions that she should be asked just so she knows what she's getting into:

Do you believe that God has gendered your participation in the body of Christ- that little girls should be ushers and little boys should be junior deacons? That ushers will eventually grow into church mothers and deacons into preachers and pastors?

Do you believe there is only one right way to love- that you should neva, neva, eva kiss a girl even if standing close enough to smell her strawberry conditioner makes you feel all special inside?

Do you believe in not telling- in the protection of black men and boys at all costs- that the boy who corners you in your new Easter dress is just being a boy and should not be reprimanded by the pastor?

Do you believe in the sinfulness of flesh- that your self-exploration (a healthy step in child development) should now be halted in the struggle against Onanism?

Do you believe in the holiness of suffering- that God knows how much each of us can bear and just happens to really, really, really trust the backs of the colored, the poor, the women, and the otherwise oppressed?

Do you believe in the perversion of sacred texts- that though Jesus stooped to draw in the sand, women should still be publicly stoned for imagined crimes?

Do you believe in the game "Pastor Says"- the adult version of "Simon Says" that renders you immobile outside of one man's understanding of the spiritual texts?

Though her acquiescence may be expected later, I know from experience that my godsister will not be asked any of these questions on her big day. GP only asked me one question twenty-two years ago, the same question that he will ask her. For that, I'm grateful. Since the unity of believers is based on the public vow to one question, agreement to the others is not required. There have always been dissenters in flowered hats and thin stockings that bag around the ankles. I've met a few of them in the past weeks- church mothers and ushers who have called to protest GP's shame, to encourage me, to cry with me, to tell the truth and shame the devil, to trouble the waters that birthed me into their community for better or worse.

My godsister's drawing of us. I'm the little one in green.

Although I swore to never step foot in my home church again, I'm ready to don a large hat and attend the baptismal  with my uterus protruding and my head held high. I'll bow only to pray- that once water is broken, my godsister will sniff out the Holy Mother essence as I did. I'll pray that someone's arms will protect her against this world she enters without suspicion. Finally, I'll pray that though a man took her to the water, a woman will call her to the Clearing and teach her how to love that which is despised out yonder.


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It’s not just me, and it’s not just you: the media really is obsessed with the un-welfare of Black
women. What an odd, but unsurprising confluence of stories recently in the news about us: the
Black woman’s median wealth is $5; the Black woman (still) can’t find a man; Black women aged
14-49 have herpes at a rate of 48 per cent; and the older, but still disheartening facts about new
HIV cases, heart disease, single motherhood, and just about everything else.

The pathologization of Black women is not a new phenomenon—but with all the self-help books,
scientific studies, and public pity, it’s clear that we are back in the spotlight as a demographic to

But here is our response: American Pariah will be an anthology of Black women’s writing
confronting the statistics and the media which claim we are drowning in our own despair. It will
confront the individuals who continue to add to the madness—from Don Imus to Steve Harvey—
and it will address our history in this country, as what Zora Neale Hurston once called us, “the
mule(s) of the world.”

It will also be an interactive website/blog which will continually publish the work of Black women
writers, artists, musicians, as well as the thoughts of everyday women, ordinarily left voiceless.

While we’re looking for work that will assault the media as they’ve assaulted us, we’re not looking
for defensiveness, or work whose intention is external validation. This living text will be for Black
women, not for the people who demean us. It won’t be a desperate mating call, or an upturned
nose, but a celebration and a questioning.

We’re seeking: original poems, stories, essays, accessible and stand-alone pieces of scholarship,
historical sketches, interviews, memoir, and the full breadth of the word “et cetera”—which could
include essay-poems, poem-stories, lyric essay, and any gray area/experimental genre-hopping.
Some work will be featured both in print and online, while some work will only be in print. If you
are interested in contributing to the online component as a blogger, please indicate that in your

Submitted work can take on any format as long as it addresses the media/history/current events
head-on. This means confronting statistics and stereotypes. Possible ideas include persona
poems/pieces in the voices of ancestors, or contemporary Black women; letters to famous
detractors; meditations on the Black female body, or, on your own Black female body; and
personal narratives addressing the difficulties of multiple identities/intersectionality. We also
welcome work examining Black women who have gone completely ignored, particularly Black
lesbians—women who do not fit into the neat categories men/society have created.

Deadline for submissions is September 15, 2010.

Please direct all inquiries and submissions to:

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

It's Official: We're Desperate for a BP Oil Spill Solution, Suggestion Box O...


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via RaceWire by Jorge Rivas on 5/26/10

Today BP started to work on the "top kill procedure," another attempt from a myriad of failed tactics to try to stop the oil leak in the Gulf coast. But after so many tries, people are beginning to lose faith in BP and are starting to come up with their own ideas and even asking Bill Nye The Science Guy for a solution.

YouTube and PBS's Newshour have partnered up to open a "suggestion box" and are accepting video and text responses from the general public on how to stop the spill.

Among the solutions submitted via-YouTube? A giant ShamWow towel.

Times are desperate.

Continue reading after the cut for animation of how the top kill procedure is suppose to work.



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BP Cleanup Workers Getting Sick After Exposure to Oil, Chemicals


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via RaceWire by Julianne Hing on 5/26/10

fishermancleaning_bp_oil_spill.jpgWorkers who are cleaning up the shores and waters of the Gulf Coast in the aftermath of the BP oil disaster are reporting sickness and side effects after their shifts. The LA Times reported that workers have been hit with severe headaches, dizziness, nausea and difficulty breathing after coming into contact with the crude oil and chemical dispersants that are being used.

When it comes to the cleanup work, both the crude oil and the dispersants are unsafe for human and other natural organisms to be in contact with. But the dispersants, which are meant to emulsify the oil, are particularly poisonous. Indeed, the strain of chemicals that BP has been using so far were actually outlawed in the U.K. over a decade ago; BP refused the Environmental Protection Agency's demands to switch to a less toxic dispersant.

The oil itself contains chemicals like benzene and toluene, which can cause respiratory irritation, memory loss, leukemia, even permanent brain damage. So far, BP has sprayed more than 600,000 gallons of chemicals on the waters of the Gulf, and 55,000 gallons have been sent into the oil that is still gushing out of the underwater leaks in the ocean floor. An estimated 210,000 gallons of oil are spewing out of the ocean floor every day.

The LA Times said that Rep. Charlie Melancon demanded that the federal government open clinics to treat cleanup workers, and said that he expected BP to fund the clinics. Melancon's spokesperson said that so far, BP had been unresponsive to other calls for funding.

According to Trinh Le, an organizer with the Hope Community Development Agency in Biloxi, Mississippi, BP was offering speedy safety trainings; a forty-hour Hazmat training was condensed into four hours. But just a few weeks earlier, workers were not being sent out with the necessary safety equipment to protect themselves, according to Paul Orr, an activist with the Lower Mississippi Riverkeeper.

"We are a responsible and professional company," BP Alaska spokesman Steve Rinehart, told the Anchorage Daily News, when questioned about BP's poor safety record. "We work to high standards. Safety is our highest priority."


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october 2009 photographer- kwesi abbensetts stylist- pamela...


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via p . s . on 5/26/10

october 2009

photographer- kwesi abbensetts

stylist- pamela shepard

makeup- shayla cox


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fuckyeahblackbeauties: tobia: Thierry Le...


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Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Audre in Stereo

from For SHE So Loved the World: The Lorde Within

I don't know if Audre used to call those Lesbian party lines back in the day. My hunch is that probably not so much, because she did a lot of her work in the time of a telephone monopoly, when long-distance service was really expensive and I can tell you...plenty of telephone disconnection services show up in the archived papers of Black feminist writers. Considering the miracles that Lorde participated in with sister-comrades, Pat Parker, Barbara Smith, Cheryl Clarke, Honor Moore while not living in the same state, or on the same coast or in the same country, through snail mail letters, it blows my mind to imagine what they might have done via skype!

At the same time...I'm grateful that some of those profound, world shifting, publication creating, discourse transforming conversations had to happen in letters, sometimes literally carbon-copied (the original "cc") to multiple people. Because as a scholar, retro-stalker and Black feminist devotee having those letters available to read and reread means everything. Provides a trail and a trace. How are we documenting our brilliance now?

At any rate I think Audre would be tripping with glee at even the glitch-filled experience that those of us in the School of Our Lorde publishing webinar had in an audio-visual enabled internet chat room in her name! Blowing each other kisses from Durham, to Cairo, to New York City to the Rio Grande Valley, to New Hampshire, Fayetteville, to DC to Minnesota, to California, to get the idea. I wonder if the energy of those kisses and the speed and delight with which they are received is having an internet butterfly effect, creating a storm of warrior wisdom and transformation, fanning the flames of our hearts and the ferocity of our words.

All I know is that I wake up everyday looking for another way to commune with the brilliant, complicated, warrior energy that I call Audre Lorde. And these past three weeks in the webinar I have been blessed to experience the playfulness, wisdom, hopeful spirit, critical insight, flirtatious naughtiness, and unblinkawayable beauty of Audre in the faces and typing fingers of all of the participants in the webinar. I am so grateful for this experience and I'm looking forward to how the poetry webinar (Mondays starting June 2 at will print you further on my heart. (email for the readings for the next webinar!)

In the hands of the many,


(via fuckyeahblackbeauties)


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