Joe Morton Says Some Eerily Accurate Things About White People That Is True

Dropping truth on Dinner In America, Joe Morton says some eerily chilling things about the nature of white people and describes them as being the virus of the world.
Joe Morton Says Some Eerily Accurate Things About White People That Is True
Dropping truth on Dinner In America, Joe Morton says some eerily chilling things about the nature of white people and describes them as being the virus of the world. Much truth is often stated in satire and what he said made my hairs on my arm stand up. First time in my life I have ever white people described so accurately on mainstream television.

Queen Nzinga – Nubian Warrior Queen’s Fight Against Slavery

Queen Nzinga was a fearless warrior and rebel of Angola and Matamba who fought against the whites enslaving her people. She fought until her death and she is a great symbol of the passion of our people and how Africans fought against slavery.
Queen Nzinga – Nubian Warrior Queen’s Fight Against Slavery
The European slave trade in Africa, begun in the early 1500’s. African leaders became alarmed at the number of African seized by European slave traders. Queen Nzinga was the ruler of kingdom Ndongo in Angola. She was one of the many African rulers who fiercely resisted which was mainly due to reports of the terrible conditions in which the slaves were shipped to Africa. This period marked the emergence of a new type of slavery in which Africans were clueless about. Still, the strong states managed to prosper. Among them were the growing Yoruba empire of Oyo in Nigeria. This is where the Dutch began settlement at the southern tip of Africa which was growing rapidly.
Queen Nzinga Nubian Warrior
In 1623, the king of the Ndongo kingdom in Angola died and the following year his sister, Nzinga became queen. She resisted the slave trade with all her power. This caused war with the Portuguese because she refused to supply as many slaves that they desired to ship to other colonies of Brazil. She managed to make alliances with neighboring states in Africa that were also trying to resist the slave. But the Portuguese managed to force her out of Ndongo. Once they accomplished that, she took over the neighboring kingdom of Matamba and fought on.
During her resistance, Nzinga even tried to reason with the Portuguese monsters and during her plea they decided that even though she was a queen, she wasn’t fit to sit in a chair. One of her attendants noticed this firm level of disrespect and bent down so she could use him as her seat. The Portuguese were mad with taking African slaves and many African kingdoms all over Africa were raided for slaves.

Queen Nzinga fought for her people and like many other African nations, she lost the fight against slavery, but her efforts and loyalty to her people must be remembered and live on. It must be known that Africa didn’t willingly give away slaves to endure the pathetic and terrible circumstances of slavery. But most African nations opposed it in every way and have even died to prevent slavery.
Queen Nzinga who fought for her people and died in 1663, Matamba was still an independent nation.

Kyle Phoenix Answers: How do you explain why the admiration of divas is common among gay males?




Divas tend to be popular, centers of attention, witty, appreciated AND the focus of sexual attention from men.
Most MSM move through life with a choice---come out or not, be out or not. Not being out gives a balancing act of identity power and weakness. One gets to affinity with manhood, with masculine power and be a Man. Or one can be out and get demoted from Man to Male (cocksucker, fucked in the butt) a state of non-Manhood, legally, morally and socially lacking in trust, fidelity, strength and even lesser patriarchal power. Depending on the situation, nearly as bad as being a .....woman, female.
But the Diva is a Woman. A female who has transcended her original oppressive state and commands attention and most important in a patriarchal society, the desirous attention of Men.
See, gay, bi, etc males while available to other males are not guaranteed males. Patriarchy in its arrogant blindness, half assures, creates the delusion within men that all women are available, rejectable or out of bounds to his penis (elderly women and children under 12). Note the option to reject lies in the delusional perspective of the man.
Now imagine you're raised in patriarchy as a male and therefore either closeted to maintain manhood social power or out and demoted but still above women. But the delusional bubble gets rudely popped. Most men do not view you with the sexual interest you want them too. How to access attention from that which you desire, where at least 80% reject you?
Women.
But as the Other.
The Diva is also the Other because she is a different kind of woman.
Other aligns to Other in fantasy and devotion. Some of it is ..."if only I could be that kind of Other....I'd regain lost social power.".
Some of it is "if I was that then men would/could openly want me."
Some of it is appreciation of talent, spectacle and fantasy.
Some of it is envy.
People rarely think about, by people I mean hetero men (patriarchial delusional) and women (beleaguered by men constantly hitting on them since they were children) , what it must be like to be most women's eunuch neuter safe space and disregarded as less than by other men, who you paradoxically find superficially attractive.
You're left feeling like you're shopping in the remainder bin of Maybe, Kinda, Sorta males who might be closeted enough to be accessors of Manhood Masculine Man-ness.
Ironically, its like the desire for Masculine Men is countered by the Hyper Feminine in the Diva.
Yeah, western ontology and axiology fucks up sexuality internally and from social projection.

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Kyle Phoenix Answers: What is the most disrespectful thing someone has done in your home?

There was a period of about 5 years when I worked for several non-profits that were sexuality focused—-with the words Gay Men in them. I throw this in because I then got my first snazzy and then my second bigger and snazzier apartment in Manhattan, Washington Heights. I got raises and purloined from one agency to another. In the midst of this I was doing workshops to about 150–250 men and young men/teens a week.
I was interviewed on the local news and came to the attention of a business owner, Brian who owned a restaurant a few blocks from the agency I was teaching at in Harlem. Turns out his sommelier was a regular at my meeting sand raved about me. He then offered to send over perfectly good/remainder food for the men, as I tried to have a repast after the 2 hour meeting and asked for the guys to potluck bring something.
Brian then says that he’s opening a night club about 6 blocks from my snazzy new apartment in Washington Heights and he gives me a huge package of free drink tickets, would I talk about his spot and give them to my men’s groups? Sure! I’ll do you one better: I was often trying to designing good, useful, engaging programming for the young men and I thought Night Club 101 for those over 21—-I’ll take them and we’ll go over some social rules, chat rules, drink limit rules—-all on the free ticket’s dime and I’ve got my programming done. Bam! It’s a rousing synergistic success.
Brian says that he wants to keep the place open 7 days a week and use the non-weekend nights for non-profits and events. It had a wild party vibe on the weekends but like the pic below (no, it wasn’t the Ritz-Carlton but it was very nice) a nice classy, jazzy lounge bar feel Mon-Thursday. Would I come thru? Would I tell people? Drinks would be 2 for 1. I could walk there! I go once a week on loungey nights. I know the staff, the go-go dancers and lots of the regulars. I sit at the bar and I hand wrote 3 of my first 3 non-fiction books there. I liked it there. I went regularly for about 2 years. It felt almost like Cheers, a home where everyone knows your name. It was a good, safe, relaxing space for me on lounge nights.
One night a regular, let’s call him Ronnie, reasonably attractive, polite chats me up and then as I leave to go home, offers to walk with me. This wasn’t unusual as I lived a block off of Broadway and the club was in between train stations. Good security for regulars to walk each other, right?
Ronnie goes on and on about his girlfriend and their problems (a lot of my workshops were on relationships and communication so I was sort of Dear Abby for those years throughout the agencies, the community, the night club, etc.) and I wasn’t shocked or anything—-Latino young men at the club weren’t always gay or bi, it was a hopping club for young people, lots of women there who weren’t lesbians and several of the strippers/go-go dancers were straight men or female.
We get to my cross block and Ronnie asks could he ask me a favor?
Sure.
Could he use my bathroom? He had a lot of beer.
Sure. No problem.
We go upstairs. My bathroom was next to the front door. He goes inside.
I go into the kitchen/living room—-it’s all open concept so it’s one big room with the front door/bathroom and then two closed door bedrooms.
FIve minutes.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
Twenty minutes.
I knock on the door.
“Ronnie, are you okay?”
He hadn’t closed it fully so the door knob cylinder didn’t catch, it parts open.
He’s preparing his works on the bathroom sink.
What the hell?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????????
“Get out! Get out!” he yells at me.
No, no, no. Rewind. He YELLS at ME in MY house.
Oh, helllllllllllllllllllllllllllll to the no.
What?!!!!
What?!!!!

Now this apartment I was subletting from a nice old lady (okay,she turned out to be a criminal running a scam against the City of New York…but I didn’t know that at the time) so the building was only 16 brand new apartments, mainly full of senior citizens. So I was getting a 2bdr apartment all to myself for a sweet price, under $1000 (it was a 5th floor walk up (it’s NYC, you make sacrifices).
AND I’m a teacher, with a variety of State licensing certifications AND registrations with the City and State,including fingerprinting to permit me to teach in lots of areas, schools, projects, etc..
This cannot be in my home.
I sweep the drugs, matches and tin foil off of the sink into the toilet and flush. Ronnie snatches up the spoon and needle and…wait for it…………
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kyle????!”
I storm back out of the bathroom, he follows, I’m unlocking the door, sputtering get out and he jumps into my face trying to back me up into the living room. He’d gone all hardcore threatening at me now.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kyle?!! What did you do that for??! What the fuck is wrong with you???!”
I looked behind me.
Nope no one there.
At the bedroom door that I used as an office studio.
Nope no one in there.
Then I looked at the bedroom that I slept in.
Nope no one in there.
I was trying to figure out who the fuck he was talking to.
Oh. I get it.

He was talking to ME!
I punched him dead ass in the face.
I then kneed him in the groin.
I punched him in the top of his head.
I then turned him around, slammed him face first into the wall next to the front door as I opened it. He tried to turn around. I yanked the door hard so it would slam into his shoulder, face, legs. When he turned, I shoved him out into the hallway. (It was a small landing, three apartments.) He turned around and tried to force his way back in so when I closed the door he was half in, half out. I leaned my… less than 260, but more than 225lbs …mass against the door and vised, I began to punch his captive face again and again, until he stopped trying to push the door.
I opened the door.
“Get the fuck out of the building.”
He did.
My mother, when I was 7, started teaching me how to box so that she could pit me against my uncle’s son, my cousin, as her and my uncle had beef from previous years. For years she would routinely, at 5′2, spontaneously punch me in the arms and chest and tell me to get ready, keep my dukes up, stay frosty. At 19, she kept up this light to medium punching with the point that I had to learn to not cower and two, that I had to learn to even come for her if she—-.
I punched my mother in the face.
She backed off….out of respect.
When I told her the above story, without missing a beat, she said: “You beat that ass, right?”
He never had a chance. I think Ronnie had some sort of heterosexual masculinity manshit thought that he could push up on me, a grown ass, handsome man in MY house.
I will and can, joyously kick some ass, to protect myself and back up this Death Star, I call a mouth.
We can’t even go into the stuff my father taught me.


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Liberation List by Kyle Phoenix (book) Mambo Hips and Make Believe by Wanda Coleman

Image result for Wanda Coleman



A close friendship between two women is the basis of this ambitious but overlong and discursive novel. Tamala Fortenot, a woman of mixed racial heritage and lofty dreams, seeks to overcome the sometimes comedic but often tragic follies of her alcoholic parents and other eccentric family members, as well as her own emotional conflicts, while maintaining a nourishing relationship with a black woman, Erlene. Between 1976 and 1991, their deep bond survives numerous calamities; the one thing that remains constant is their devotion to pursuing a shared dream of becoming writers. Inspired by the TV mini-series Roots, Tamala, who passes for white on occasion, is trying to write a book about her family, including her rarely discussed Mexican-American heritage. While her career suffers its ups and downs, it is her emotional life that causes Tamala pain. She's been diagnosed with a genetic birth defect that prevented her sexual organs from developing, so she can never have children. This condition, which also prevents the sexual consummation of any relationship, leaves her lonely and suicidal. Only her friendship with Erlene, chronicled by letters closing each chapter, provides some solace, and even that bond is occasionally strained by her restlessness and self-doubt. When Tamala describes herself as a writer, she also reveals her view of herself as a woman: "I am a Morgan horse who wishes she were a thoroughbred." Much of Tamala's poignant story is buried under the weight of excessive family history and awkward plot devices. Erlene rarely emerges as an autonomous character in her own right. While Coleman (Bathwater Wine) exhibits a colorful imagination, the characters and events evolve in a dizzying blur that leaves the reader impressed at the scope of the tale but disappointed with its cumulative effect. (Dec.) 
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.



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Liberation List by Kyle Phoenix (book): Shock Treatment by Karen Finley


Shock Treatment by Karen Finley

"If you haven't read this book yet--buy it, take it home, and read it now! This is the work that made me get off my ass and actually do something, and it will inspire you, too."--Kathleen Hanna, singer, Bikini Kill, Le Tigre and The Julie Ruin
"I believe Karen Finley's un-careful rage was threatening because it is filled with grief, humor, and a profound passion for this life. Rereading it, I feel refreshed, as if I've been self-policing for years by tolerating boring, stupid things and now I'm free again. Thank you, Karen."--Miranda July, author of The First Bad Man
"Shock Treatment is as timely and crucial as ever, inspiring feminist rage and wildness just as when it first blew my mind twenty-five years ago."--Michelle Tea, author of How to Grow Up
"Karen Finley is an iconoclast who, ironically, became an icon when her work in Shock Treatment was targeted by right wing politicians. This important book is as necessary and vital today as it was twenty-years ago."--Sapphire, author of Push, among other works
"Reading Shock Treatment today reminds me that Karen Finley has always been a writer of conscience. I remember seeing and hearing her read "The Black Sheep" off a piece of legal paper in the middle of a play at The Kitchen. No frills. She simply re-invented the poem."--Eileen Myles, author of Snowflake/different streets
"How exciting for you, me, Karen, and the world--to have an occasion to revisit this period of powerful and earth-shaking work. Culture wars? Those bastards had no idea what they were up against."--Justin Vivian Bond, author of Tango: My Childhood, Backwards and in High Heels
"Finley’s Shock Treatment is more than just 'art.' It remains a searing and necessary indictment of America, a call to arms, a great protest against the injustices waged on queers and women during a time in recent American history where government intervention and recognition was so desperately needed. Twenty-five years on, Finley’s work continues to shock and provoke readers and audiences, demonstrating the powerful cultural and political impact her work has had on modern American art and performance art."--Nathan Smith, Los Angeles Review of Books
No other artist captures the drama and fragility of the AIDS era as Karen Finley does in her 1990 classic book Shock Treatment. "The Black Sheep," "We Keep Our Victims Ready," "I Was Never Expected to Be Talented,"--these are some of the seminal works which excoriated homophobia and misogyny at a time when artists and writers were under attack for challenging the status quo. This twenty-fifth anniversary expanded edition features a new introduction in which Finley reflects on publishing her first book as she became internationally known for being denied an NEA grant because of perceived obscenity in her work. She traces her journey from art school to burlesque gigs to the San Francisco North Beach literary scene. A new poem reminds us of Finley's disarming ability to respond to the era's most challenging issues with grace and humor.
KAREN FINLEY's raw and transgressive performances have long provoked controversy and debate. She has appeared and exhibited her visual art, performances, and plays internationally. The author of many books including A Different Kind of IntimacyGeorge & Martha, and The Reality Shows, she is a professor at the Tisch School of Art and Public Policy at NYU.


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