Lest y’all had the notion that I thought the hipsters and artists were completely blameless in the situation from my previous post…
I lived in a gentrified building in Bushwick for about 6 months and I felt awful. I swore I’d never do it again, and I still haven’t. I’d rather live in a shoebox in Manhattan with my conscience intact than a spacious spread in East New York with a fancy new dishwasher when I know someone’s family had to relocate to Brownsville or Jamaica or Nassau County to make that apartment available for renovation.
Hallelujah in the name of Jesus I don’t even beLIEVE in this makes me want to go to church tomorrow, Praise God. She is eating that tambourine UP. Sister Shirleatha ShoutQueen is not playing any games, Father. She is the gold-medal winning, current Michael Phelps of Praise & Worship. Sister Shirleatha ShoutQueen doesn’t just wind it up for Jesus, she winds it up for Mary, Joseph, the Apostles, and even Pontius Pilate because sinners need savin’ too. Bless this Sister I’m about to go cleanse my atheist heathen soul with some Albertina Walker and CeCe Winans on this good day.
(And then I’m gonna wrap it up with some Johnny Walker and see some wine because y’all know I ain’t been to church since the Clinton administration.)
One of my friends lives in a rent-stabilized apartment building in Clinton Hill with his mother and sister. There’s a hole in his ceiling where dripping water from the apartment above has eaten through, but no one has lived in the apartment upstairs in about a year. The previous tenants were bought out by the landlords, and when my friend and his family refused to take the offer, the dripping started. He thinks the landlord started the drip to force them out and is refusing to patch the hole because he wants to renovate the building and raise the rent.
That is the ugly side of gentrification and here’s another story from Gothamist:
This is the only solo single from an En Vogue member that really matters.
Terry’s solo album was a hot sleepy ass mess, but this sonnnnnng. Ugh. You couldn’t tell Elementary School Rafi that I wasn’t grown as hell and having all the feelings during that bridge, especially because my balls hadn’t dropped yet so I could still hit all the notes. Even now, I try. I burst a vein in the process, but I try.
This was such good, simple songwriting. I miss when R&B songs sounded like they could be performed live and sound exactly the same, with real instruments and everything.
No one wants to be the one to say it, so I will, because it’s the Internet and you can’t throw anything at me. You also can’t revoke my Black card and ban me from the potato salad line because I do more than my fair share of pointing out racial injustice. Still, let’s call it like it is: 12 Years a Slave won the Best Picture Oscar because any other result would’ve caused a firestorm of controversy the Academy would never live down.
The Oscar voters knew this and they voted accordingly, and now, some of them are even admitting they didn’t even see the movie.
Black & brown folks are so busy trying to differentiate themselves and make sure someone is on the bottom other than them, everyone is distracted from the very real task of dismantling white supremacy. This is ridiculous and I can’t believe DR’s culture ministry is trying to defend it.