I don't quite know who is at fault. Each year I never know who to blame when it dawns on me that my entire (and most immediate) family has absolutely no idea who I am as a human being and I, despite the faith that I continue to renew in them, have no idea exactly who they are. However, since this is actually my own personal "blog" that I am in control of, please forgive me as the following my be slightly swayed in my own favor. I trust my family to clear their names or slander mine in any sort of web publication of their own.
I'm not going to turn this into any sort of holiday rant. The ones that pseudo-intellectuals like to go on once a year in whatever the format may be. I just have a few things I need to get off my chesticles.
Thinking back, it could possibly come from years of stifling my true identity while surrounded by my family, but, well, let's just say that the older I got, the louder I got. It's just that someone is clearly not listening.
Opening up any back-issue of Jet or Ebony, one may be able to see the unfortunate trends that black men have been through over years. This is due, in part, to everyone's friend Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable and TDS (Those Damn Sweaters). Discovering that these sweaters actually do still exist and are for sale in several major department stores is, yes, quite scary. What the hell am I supposed to do with these?
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