Sigh. Ok...I have been thinking and thinking and thinking about this... and I don't exactly know why. I was not a Michael Jackson worshiper, I don't even own any of his albums. However, I have always had, I think, a complex understanding of how truly influential he was, beyond his music, beyond his dancing, beyond his persona. That being said, I have to get these things out of my head and this seems like a good place. Facebook is too big for me these days and I don't need all the comments that will certainly come if I put this there. But I need someone to read it and you folks are reliable...to give me feedback, or not. To read it, or not. But it will be there, at least.

To begin, what I think I mean when I say "beyond" is that beyond Michael Jackson as an individual, a human being (which I will get to) he, unluckily for him, represents only the beginning of the generation of tabloids, paparazzi, sick and sickening interests and obsessions with mega-celebrities and pop cultural icons. I think he was an easy target. A target, I mean that. Why we as culture, and I mean this both globally and the U.S. specifically, need to find outlets for our hatred, our disgusts, our sick fascination with people we believe to be different from us, I do not understand. I see Michael's body, his face, his heart as a dumping ground for our own self-loathing. How cowardly are we when our target is someone we cannot touch, yet secretly wish to so badly. We yearn for a taste of Michael's fame, his gigantic person even as we despite and chastise him for it. But there are many mega-stars these days who this can be said about, but none come close. None come close. Why Michael?

We all know the allegations. We all know the stories that start from him being so young. So young. A human being, center stage for all the world to see. A human being who everyone thinks they know, they know it all. Children in his bed. Bleach on his skin. Hundreds of plastic surgery operations and now, now, drugs. Overdose? He was just tired. Just so tired. But what can any of us know of the pressure, the all see-ing eye that watches every move, but can never see it all. How does one maintain any for of sanity through such a hailstorm of criticism, of hatred, of allegations and fingers pointing, pointing, screaming at you. If it sounds dramatic, it's because it is.

And then I think. Why now? Why this out pouring of love now? Millions of people expected at his funeral. Where were the fans last week, last year? Would it have mattered to him? I don't think so, because that is not the type of love that makes a human being feel loved. We wonder why he loved children so much. I don't. I doubt that there were many adults who could be around Michael truthfully, honestly and free from misconceptions, assumptions and expectations. Children, I think, gave him that. Gave him his humanity through their innocence, their honesty, their ability to be outside of it all. This discussion of course merits another...and although I am hesitant to participate in it, I will. Do I think Michael Jackson was a child molester? No. I don't. Do I think Michael did somethings with children that could be considered child molestation? Yes, I do. I will not speculate as to what happened, but I will say this. I do not think that Michael ever, ever intended on hurting, physically or mentally, the children he had in his care. I think that he was mentally ill and that his actions were the result of his own upbringing, and his inability to understand and respect cultural norms of behavior. That we would expect him to do so, I feel, is unrealistic, because we as a culture have been expecting him, always, to not be normal, wanting him, demanding him, to be otherwise. This does not make what may have happened ok. What it does is, I hope, make us realize that Michael was simultaneously victim and victimizer.

This brings me to a point that has been in the forefront of my thoughts, one that makes me nervous. Makes me question everything. I think that Michael Jackson was, or would have been, a gay man. I am scared to say this because first, so often homosexuality, particularly in men, is equated with child molestation, and I DO NOT wish to imply that this is the basis for my assumption. What I do think is that Michael grew up not only in a family where homophobia was rampant, but also in a culture where, no matter how many leaps and bounds we make, faggot, cock-sucker, and pussy are the worst insults one can throw at a man. I also think that Michael's youth, where one begins to understand and explore sexuality, was filled with mixed signals and hazing sessions into heterosexuality. From early on I believe that Michael showed signs of femininity, gentleness and the like, all of which pointed to his father that Michael may not be the heterosexual man he was supposed to be. Chances are, Michael began hiding his sexuality before he even understood what it meant.
Related to this, I believe Michael suffered from body dysmorphia and, as a result, anorexia. These types of mental illness are, I think, much more common in gay men. I can't help but wonder why, while everyone was so focused on Michael's nose, his skin, they never, or rarely commented on his ever thinning body. They called him frail occasionally, but I have heard only once or twice over the last few days the mention of an eating disorder. Would people be so quick to chastise him if they considered this? I don't know.

So I return to my question. Why Michael? I will not hesitate to say this. Michael was a genius and unfortunately, so often what comes with genius is torment. You cannot hold that kind of genius in your hand. The music, the videos, the dancing, the performer, the clothes, the everything, all combined and never stopping. You simply can't touch it, but we all tried. We are all still trying and will be, I think, for a long time. What I hope people will begin to realize is that his genius was genuine, human genius. Fragile and powerful and alive. I am so torn between what I hope is true, honest respect for Michael in his death and the ever increasing media storm that is surrounding his family at this time. What I can say is that you can see now that even in his death, Michael is bringing people together, dancing and singing in the streets. Dancing and singing in the streets.

Because it's funny.

So last night around 9:30pm I was outside on my porch when I heard a screeeeechCRASH! It was obviously a car crash and I knew right away that it wasn't any average fender bender, but what Felly and I (and practically all of our apartment building and the surrounding neighbors) saw when we got out there was more than I had expected.

First, right in front of our building was a COP CAR slammed into a parked car that happened to belong to my downstairs neighbor. On the opposite side of the street was another car that had been hit. Further north on the street was another jeep that was also involved. There may have been a fifth car but I did not venture up there in my pj's to check it out.

We heard one story that claimed that the cop car had been chasing someone without their lights on and had to swerve to miss someone who pulled out in front of them. Another story said that cop was just driving to fast. Either way, I can't quite make out what happened, especially after seeing the tire marks on the road this morning. Some twenty to thirty feet from where the cop car stopped the skid marks start...looking as though the cop hit a car up there and continued to slide that thirty feet, somehow hitting another car in the process. Either way, that cop was going WAY TOO FAST for a residential street. Unless he was chasing a murderer, slow the eff down, especially at night when you can barely see pedestrians crossing 10 feet in front of you. Someone could have been killed. If you are on the 300 block of Elmwood in the next couple days, check out the skid marks and the carnage.

Oh AND, my poor neighbor. SHE has to pay to get her car fixed and then the Buffalo police will POSSIBLY reimburse her! Need I not remind you that she was PARKED on the street, legally I might add, and wasn't even in her car when it happened and she has to pay AND she is moving to Rochester next week and they are going to make her drive back and forth for paperwork BS. All I can say is the Buffalo Police Department needs to take some responsibility here. I don't care if you have lights on your car and a badge with your name on it, if you are speeding down a street and cause a four car accident, you better pay.

Oh and. Why isn't this on the internet yet? I googled pretty much everything I can think of and it's a no show. I know there were news channels there last night because we saw there cameras. Hm.

So Beer-Ology ended up being a lot of beer and not a lot of ology. There were plenty of different breweries represented and they were serving beer past the 9:00pm deadline, but that was about it. There were a couple of presentations...we went to one and the guy seemed like he knew a lot about WNY and Buffalo old school breweries, but he wasn't the best public speaker, so we left. We did, however, find it quite enjoyable to look at science exhibits and the Egyptian exhibit while slightly intoxicated. Good times. All in all I got to try some new beers (for those of you who like light beers like Blue Moon, might I suggest Saranac's Pomegranate Wheat) and got to see some really interesting people all drinking in a museum. Not too bad.

The sun on Sunday made me so happy that I spent most of the day outside on my porch doing random things like cleaning the fan that has been sitting in out basement all winter, just so i could be outside. I also made friends with my neighbors...one old, one new. It's been so nice to take Ralphie for walks around the neighborhood and just have my porch door open. Sigh. I'm a happy camper. I haven't already marked 4 or 5 different Buffalo events on my newly printed out summer calendar. I'm ready to thoroughly enjoy my last summer in this crazy city. Word.

Ok so as many of you know, I am writing my thesis. I think I have finally come up with a worthy and comprehensive abstract, but I was hoping for some feedback from you all if you are feeling so generous. Not generous in the 'go easy on me" kinda way, but generous as in, honest and sincere feedback. So yeah, here goes....


Chaotic whiteness is a road map, a tool box, offering ways of being that allow for the possibility of re-membering, re-imagining, and un-mastering whiteness in the ongoing projects that make up critical race theory and whiteness studies. By trespassing on the boundaries that have been fabricated in and among various academic disciplines, I will navigate through women's studies, African American studies, literary criticism and various other theoretical paradigms in order to expose and explode the ways in which the fabrication and maintenance of whiteness haunts both black and white bodies. Finally, I will consider the necessities of articulating and performing a whiteness that must not be bound by what whiteness is supposed to be or have access to, while simultaneously taking seriously the ongoing potential for appropriating, commodifying and romanticizing the knowledges, imaginations, memories and interiorities of people of color.