How is it that "we" hear of some things and not others in the news? It is beyond my ability to understand the ways in which we are manipulated through basic access to information...for those who don't search it out on their own, which is many of us, are we not just submissive infants swallowing all they hold in front of our faces? This is not to de-emphasize the tragedy of Lawrence King's murder, but rather to question why we get to hear about his death and not the death of Simmie Williams Jr.? How many alleged hate crimes go unnoticed, unprinted, unrecognized while other are lifted up to level of idolization? Was Lawrence King more "innocent" that Simmie Williams Jr.? Could we idolize a street walker, a potential prostitute, someone who stepped out if his place? I am disgusted at this possibility...that somehow one person's death is more or less credible, legitimate than an anothers. How wonderful that people hear about the death of Lawrence King, that people understand the brutality of it all, but I know that there is more to it than that... if Lawrence King had worn is female clothes out into the streets, if he had been just a little bit older, if he had "hit on" some straight man, the list goes on and on about what can and can not be taken into the hearts of the american people.

Victim: Simmie Williams Jr., shot as he stood along Sistrunk Boulevard in Fort Lauderdale, died at Broward General Medical Center.


By Brian Haas and Sofia Santana | South Florida Sun-Sentinel
February 23, 2008
FORT LAUDERDALE - The shooting death of a gay teenage boy who was dressed in women's clothing is being investigated as a possible hate crime, while detectives try to determine whether he was targeted because of his sexual orientation.

Simmie Williams Jr., 17, was attacked on the 1000 block of Sistrunk Boulevard by two young men who wore dark clothing and might live in the neighborhood, police said. Williams, who was wearing a dress and was known in the area by his first name or as "Chris" or "Beyonce," was shot about 12:45 a.m. Friday and soon afterward died at Broward General Medical Center, police said.It's unclear what Williams was doing in the area, about four miles from his house, but police are investigating whether he was working as a prostitute, officials said.



Almost two weeks after the shocking death of Lawrence King in his California classroom, a gay black teen has been shot dead in South Florida. Police in Fort Lauderdale say 17-year-old Simmie Williams Jr. was dressed in women's clothing and his death is being investigated as a possible bias crime.

"We're looking into the possibility of a hate crime," Sgt. Kathy Collins with the Fort Lauderdale Police tells News 10. "There were some words exchanged prior to the shooting ... Witnesses said he was in a verbal argument with two men and then they heard several shots being fired and the men took off running."

Detectives say Williams was wearing a dress and at the corner of 10th Avenue and Sistrunk Boulevard at around 12:45 a.m. Friday. It is unclear what he was doing in the area. The vicinity is frequented by transgender prostitutes.

Williams' mother tells the Sun-Sentinnel she knew her son was openly gay, but, did not know her son wore women's clothes or what he did after dark. "I gave him $2 for the bus and he never came back," says Denise King, who lived with her son west of Fort Lauderdale. "He was a quiet person, kept to himself. He had a lot of friends. He wasn't a troubled child. He was a happy person."

The distraught mom also says her son "planned to get his GED":and then go to culinary school. "That's what he really wanted to do. That's all he talked about," says King. "He spent the whole day with me yesterday, played with his nephew and cooked dinner."

Although the Lawrence King murder is making national headlines and the community is pulling together, there probably will not be a stampede in Fort Lauderdale to apprehend the men who killed Simmie Williams. Authorities are historically slow to solve murders of black gay young menâ€"a la Rashawn Brazellâ€"and "being black, gay and dressing in women's clothing made Williams 'a minority within a minority within a minority,' says Grant Lynn Ford, dean of Sunshine Cathedral in Fort Lauderdale, a congregation that ministers to gays, lesbians and their families.

Ok. So...I woke up this morning and opened the door and I was SOO happy to feel the warmth, to not be able to see my breath, to notice that the snow is melllllllting and then. It all went wrong.

I decided to be productive and change the kitty litter so I emptied it out, cleaned it, shook out the bathroom carpets, swept the floor and went to put the new litter in to find that we had no litter! Shit shit shit, I had to get to the store before the kitties went poopoo in the empty litter box. Gross....so I shower super quick and get all ready to go and try to find my wallet....and then it hits me. I left my wallet in the glove box of felly's car and she is at work. So now I have an empty litter box and no wallet.

AND THEN

I realized I have NO GAS in my effin car. I can't even get to class. Shit shit shit. What to do? I thought I could take a check over to the bank to cash and then, oh yes, I have no ID. It's in my wallet. I tear apart the apt. trying to find my ever ellusive passport and of course, can't find the damn thing. So, now, no kitty litter, no wallet, no gas, no I.D. What the eff?

I emailed my prof, saving her from the gory details of my ridiculous day...and of course I have a paper due in her class so I send her a copy of that and sit down to a wonderful afternoon of HGTV. I honestly wanted to go to class today...beautiful days make me want to drive, to do something, to leave my apt and that enthusiasm was slapped right outta me after all this nonsense.

There is no point to this story...just me getting it all out. Tonight is floor class which makes me happy....and then 3 days of class and then SPRING BREAK...bye bye buffalo :)

Margarita Assignment. Check.




Ahahahahahah. P.S. THESE are sooo funny. Why the hell do lesbians make ridiculous "music videos" of lesbian movies to cheesy lesbian music?!?!

this one is from that catholic school girl lesbian movie. in case you couldn't tell. ha.

I don't like the word "blog". does anyone know where this word came from? I think of ridiculous things like yule logs, poo, and vomit when I here this word. And already it has become stigmatized. Bloggers. Lame. Not you guys of course! Perhaps we need to reclaim the word or come up with a new one? How long before a word becomes stigmatized before it can be reclaimed? I wonder...

Felly and I have decided that we are going to Florida in May. Florida. I have never been to Florida...I have been to many many states in this country of ours, but never Florida. for some people it is like, the vacation spot...but it never intrigued me quite like, Colorado for example or Tennessee. Of couse I am going on assumptions of old people and scantily clad hot women who will make me look bad... i might be into the everglades, but not florida. Ah well, perhaps I will be proven wrong...

Whats up with "spring semester"? whats so spring about it? and ditto for this whole "spring break" nonsense. There is snow on the ground, no freshly budding trees, no singing birds, no potentially warm days, no spring. I guess thats why people go to elsewhere for spring break...florida perhaps? ha.

I am really serious about this folks. Maybe it isn't everybody's thing, or you think that it won't be your thing, or that you will feel out of place or whatever, but, BATTLE AT BUFFALO is a very welcoming environment and it will blow your mind. Seriously. Granted, you might have to sit on the floor, your left leg may fall asleep and you might not realize it till you stand up and almost fall down, but otherwise, you will have a great time.

It starts around 7:30 on Saturday night. It costs $4. The Verve Dance studio is located on main street, between Allen and Virginia. There is a creepy door located to the left of the Hyatt Art supply store that will lead you upstairs. Just follow the music! It usually goes on till 1130 or so and I would say that the good stuff starts around 830pm.

I think that their myspace has all the exact info:


Also, just as a side note, I think that what these people are doing has a really positive impact on the community in a number ways. If you come, you are supporting breakdancing, cultural diversity, your community, and chances are you will directly benefit by being impressed, wowed, and amazed at the whole damn thing.

There. I rest my peace.

I have been thinking a lot about school...this school in particular. UB for those who don't know where I go...

I guess I can't help but feel like I am on a treadmill to nowhere. I sit in class and listen to people talk about Foucoult and academic debt and blah blah blah, and I can't help but what wonder what the fuck they are talking about. Granted, I can follow along, I know the lingo, I can talk the talk, but I get sick of it pretty quick. There is no activism coming from this dept. Outside of getting our work done, writing papers and thesis and whatnot, how does anyone in grad school have time to give a shit about anyone but themselves? Isn't higher education just another machine to assembly line out people with legitimate degrees in order to look good for other people? I was speaking about this with a fellow student who is a black female immigrant from Africa. She said that she felt that getting her education is the only way for her to be heard, to get ahead, to be respected in the world. I agree with this in some ways, but aren't we just playing into the system? Who the hell do I think I am with my fancy degree that says I am smarter than other people who don't have one? Gross. Even "higher" education has hierarchical implications. Aren't we all just little rats in tubes trying to get to the coveted finish line?

Don't get me wrong. I love school. I love learning. But I am not here to get a degree, and I think most people are. Get in, get out, get on with your life. But can't we learn everywhere, don't we? I get so sick of things like "good" schools, ivy league bullshit and academic credibility. I am no more credible that any other schmuch out there. It grosses me out. Really. We sit in our comfortable little classrooms talking abour rage, gender, class, inequality, etc etc, and we aren't doing a damn thing about it. Is academic feminism an oxymoron? I think so.

Oh yes. And on a side note...I need to make it quite clear that my rambling are no more than that. I am never ever trying to present all sides of a perspective. My mind changes on a daily basis. And here is another complaint...when people criticize an author about what s/he missed, what was left out, underdeveloped, blah blah. How the hell do we expect one single person to ever get it all right? I know it is an excercise in one's ability to critique, to be analytical and all that jazz, but seriously. Come on people. People are starving, are poor, are dying, are getting murdered for wearing the wrong clothes, saying the wrong thing, for no reason at all and we are worried about this petty shit?

I am full of it today. :) Peace out.

I got in the shower no more than half an hour ago...and now, quite suddenly, there is snow on the ground again. Forgive me for talking about the oh so mundane weather, but what the hell is wrong with Buffalo?

Shit. You see, this is the problem with blogging...I guess my issue is I have this seemingly innate self-editing process that prohibits me from speaking of the random, the ridiculess, the everyday. I think that people aren't interested, don't care, have their own lives to deal with, etc etc. Felly and I were talking about this last night. I am not a story teller. You know how some people just spout stories of when they were doing one thing or another and this happened and hahaha wasn't that crazy? I just don't. And yet, I am terribly fascinated with the idea of the story. I think that human beings are (dare i say naturally?) inclined to think and live in storyland, not to be confused with reality. We have to have reasons, ideas, ways of making sense of things in order to believe them, to want to see them through, to be invested. What more than meaning makes a human being? We eat, shit, sleep like every other godam animal on this planet, but we make it MEAN things. What we eat tells about where we come from, our culture, our upbringing, out health... but does it really? Yes and No I suppose....but thats not the point. I guess there isn't really one at all. I wanted to post and this was the first thing that came to mind.

does it mean anything that it is cold outside? No. Not at all, but I will sit here and tell you straight out that I will make it mean that I don't want to leave the house and go to class and would rather stay in all day and read and snuggle with my cats. But that is my story. and that doesn't mean that that is what I will do. Rather, that is the story that I will carry with me today as I get in my car, drive to campus, walk from the parking lot aallllll the way to class, sit in class.... etc etc etc. Grumble grumble grumble its cold outside. See what I mean? Ha!

Ok, so me and this friend of mine have to do a joint presentation on a book. for those of you who care, it is Octavia Butler's "Parable of the Sower". And we made plans to meet today to go over our thoughts and stuff...and I had it in my little head that she would (preferably) come to my place cause it is bigger and I can smoke without climbing three flights of stairs. Either that or we would go to her place. Fine. I could deal with that too.
But...when she finally called me, she was like, oh, lets me at Spot. Two things: First of all, why the hell do people like going to public places where it is loud and uncomfortable and distracting and costs money, when you could easily be at home, for free. (This is a privacy and social phobia issue I have as well). Second...I realized not only are we going to Spot, she wants to go to Spot on Delaware, one I have never been to before. Now granted, I should take this as an opportunity to expand my horizons, expand my Buffalo, blah blah. But I don't want to. I know I sound like a spoiled two year old right now. I guess this is what happens when one has expectations that were completely and totally existing only in the reality of my head. I am not upset really, don't take my tone to be anything other than fascination with my own idiosincracies. I am a wee bit crazy and it comes out at the strangest of times.

Its always kinda nice to open up your bank account and realize you have much more money than expected. Its kinda like finding money in your dirty jeans or in the lint trap of the dryer. Although, Felly and I are supposed to be buying plane tickets for Seattle, not buying strange and "exotic" foods from the organic aisles in Wegmans.

In other news...

Felly and I wacthed this terribly interesting little show about Bodies. As in, Bodies: The Exhibition.
Fascinating really...like how most of the bodies are of asian descent and come from this rundown shack of a wearhouse/laboratory in China which supposedly doesn't know where they come from. And this creepy but cute German doctor who came up with the plasticization process that these bodies go through but who cried when he was recalling how he accidently was working with some bodies who had not voluntary gave their bodies up...he incinerated them. And the millions of dollars that this exhibition is bringing in for americans, never mind the fact that they, in order to avoid human corpse laws, claim that the plasticized human body parts are plastic "models".....

I guess...well, it really gets me thinking about all kinds of things. My first instinct is to say that as American's we have some creepy fascination with death coupled with a conflicting taboo which is why people are so drawn to these types of things in the first place. Taboos create fascination. I believe this. There are other cultures in the world who have no (or at least a different) taboo around death or the dead body...sometimes they hang out with the bodies, take parts of it home with them, things of that nature. Death is natural and normal for them...it is not the end of the world like it is for us. Yeah ok, we believe in heaven, but we also believe in ghosts and vampires and that sort of thing. Don't kid yourself. We do. I won't get into the "we" of America because that is a whole nother post.

So maybe the Bodies exhibit isn't all that bad? Maybe we should try to be more comfortable with death? Maybe then we wouldn't see people freaking out getting plastic surgery and tring to look "Ten Years Younger" and all that youth is beauty bullshit. But then...here is the tricky part I spose. these bodies are NOT of old people who died of natural causes. According to ABC or whoever, they were young, healthy people who didn't look ready to die. So hence the question...where do these bodies come from. I do not doubt...for one second...that there is an underground, clandestine body business going on. It has happened in the past, why not now?
Anyways...I am not saying you should or shouldn't, but if you are interested, here is a website called No Bodies 4 Profit...


decide for yourself.

Someone asked me to post more...so this is what you get.

I hate automatic flush toilets, automatic soap dispensers, hand dryers, paper towle dispensers, the list goes on. My first inclination is to be offended. I am really quite capable of flushing the toilet myself. Really. And I think it should be my choice when the toilet is flushed. And then I think, well, what does this say about our society? That people are such inconsiderate assholes that they can't flush a godam toilet by themselves? That we are basically all little children who need someone out there to make sure that it gets done? Of course, the situation may be slightly different for say paper towles or water...I get that they probably save some trees, some energy, whathaveyou. But the toilet flushing thing. Come on.

In other news. Felly made me steak last night for dinner. We are so cool. I wanted to get dessert...and apparently she did too, and we both got the exact same kind of strawberry cheesecake. So now we have two. One for each I suppose.

Also, for fair and future warning...Break Dancing Battle NEXT SATURDAY FEB. 23. You folks really should come. It will blow your mind. Come after 8pm...910 Main Street (Door to the left of the Hyatt art store) Seriously. $4 cover.

There is also a showing of the Vagina Monologues TONIGHT at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Buffalo ( 695 Elmwood Ave. at West Ferry Street). $ 15 @ 7: 30 p. m

So there. Post...complete.