U-N-I-T-Y. U. N. I. T. Y.

What is that?

That’s a unity.

Who you callin’ a b*tch?

As America’s largest recognized minority group (and recipients of questionable road-side litigation), solidarity has always been our greatest asset in efforts against social, political and recreational injustice. “The people is paramount.” That’s not a famous quote. Its just some profound sh*t I just made up…but we should start using it. Anyway, from Marcus Garvey’s UNIA-ACL to BSU Programs…and even that part in House Party 2, when Dana “Zora” Owens rallied the school in support of an Ethnic Studies program, evidence of our unification has always proven itself a bad mamma jamma. Sadly though, in this “post-racial” era, it would seem as if our most combative weapon has been holstered.

But, we still our brothers keepers. Here’s some ways you can assist in the keepage of your brother (and sister too):

The Head Nod– A quaint, heartwarming gesture (often times accompanied by a bated “…’Sup”). This is the most simple and effective way to express your Blacktolism. Beyond that, it’s the most amusing. The head nod is best used in scenarios where there’s a minimal Black presence. It’s a single, stealth motion that tells a passing consort, “Hey, hows it going? I’m black, and I’ve noticed you are too. There sure is a lot of whitefolk in here, huh? Yeah, I know. Its crazy. But hey, don’t sweat it buddy. If anything should go awry, I’ve got your back. No homo.” Without suspicion of onlookers, you’ve prepared yourself for the revolution; and when asked, “Did you know him?” You simply offer a puzzled expression and reply, “Nah. I dont know that n*gga!?”

Be a Lotion Lookout– It’s almost 2012. Obama is the head of the muhfuggin’ state, Will Smith’s son is the Karate Kid, and The Old Spice Guy is our generations Shakespeare. There is absolutely no reason for us to be walking around with slavery feet and cotton knuckles. If your cup runneth over with cocoa butter…shareth. Also, in that same respect, if you see a brotha or sista who hasn’t completed the lotion-rubbing-in process, please speak out. They may have a job interview…you don’t want a fellow comrade to be rendered homeless cause they still had a little bit of lotion on their face.

Take Preventive Action- Regrettably, I found this one out the hard way. During last years holiday season, I ventured the resident mall to procure some Christmas goodies for a couple loved ones. Which brings about the question, How much do you really love somebody if you brought their gift from the “As Seen on TV” Store? Anyhow, I happened to walk pass popular den of iniquity, Abercrombie & Fitch. Mid step, I stopped and noticed a young black male in a large black hoodie perusing the racks at the front of the store. I thought, “Hmmm, thats odd. I wonder if he’s lost?” I wouldve been less confused if it was Token Black Guy (TBG’s love them some A&F), but…it was just a regular a** brotha. I watched as he continued to scour the racks and scout for customer assistance…he seemed to have needed help. Help he didn’t receive because, within minutes, he was rushed, cuffed and forcibly handled by five police officers. Apparently some merchandise accidently buried itself inside of his sweater. Dang. If only I had taken preventive action and yelled, “RUN, RICKY! YOU AINT GOT NO BUSINESS IN THERE! GET AWAY FROM THE RACKS! THEM SWEATPANTS GON BE TOO TIGHT ANYWAY!” *sigh*

Because of my irresponsibility, another young African American male may be subjected to butt pumpage a life in prison.

Join the MAU M.A.U.S (Mothers Against Uncontrollable Swag)- Sickle Cell…or Swag? Ive yet to decide which is our community’s worst affliction. I do know this though, our community seems to be completely obsessed with producing the worlds ultimate Shmorldshtarshmipshmop video…and everybody’s swag is on Contra cheat code levels. At. All. Times. It’s embarrassing to death. It’s gross. Its everywhere (except libraries). Car lots. Swag! Laundry mats. Swag! Planned parenthood. Swag! AAAARGH! There is absolutely no reason for everybody’s swag to perpetually  be on one hundred-thousand-million…sometimes it’s okay to just be on two. Two is fine. Two is a good church-going number. Hallelujah!

Boktown, am I missing anything?  What does Black, or [insert applicable race/culture here] Solidarity mean to you? Swag.



Lady Cha Cha

May 11th, 2011

This is hilarious!!! You’re so right about all these unifying rituals we have. There’s one you missed though. Similar to the head nod, there’s the 2.5 seconds of eye contact we share anytime there’s a ‘racial moment’.

Story: I was on an RA staff in college with one other black RA. During a staff meeting one of the other RAs (a 2520) regaled to our group that when she was younger she was named “Little Miss Antebellum” in her hometown. The 2.5 seconds of eye contact communicated: “antebellum? like really? what kinda family you come from where you even go to something like that? You know the South lost, right? and finally, oh helllllllllll no, she aint braggin about being Miss Antebellum.”

Yup, I’ve had several of the 2.5 second moments and your entire list.

solebrotha p

May 11th, 2011

Ah, yeah! Im a huge fan of the 2.5 second stare. The eye cut and subsequent “What’choo taumbout, Willis!?” face! Thats when you know who your friends really are. I remember at a work meeting (when i worked in urban radio), the sales director (who was a whitefolk) said, “We need to be able to get more chicken for our listeners to want respond to the contest.” Me and Lou (Program Director, Black) immediately went to the 2.5 look.

Good call, Cha Cha…I plan for this to be a recurring list. There’ll be more.

Melina Jones

May 11th, 2011

Straight. Hilarity. Nice work, Haji.

May 11th, 2011

I’m a big fan of the head nod. I use it daily or whenever appropriate. Similar to Cha Cha’s 2.5 second stare, is the rubbing and pointing to the palm, aka as the light side of the hand, aka the…well, yeah. You know what I’m taumbout.

Typically, this moment happens around individuals you know. But occasionally there will be times when you share this moment with your brother/sister that you don’t know. Solidarity.

Solebrotha P

May 11th, 2011

Haha…me and my homeboy do that all the time! In moments of caucazoidal disparity we’ll look at each other, raise a hand (palm forward) and *jazz hand* shake it.

Also, in times of some outright n*gga sh*t (ONS), we’ll do the same with the other side of the hand.

Solidarity like a motherfreaker.

May 11th, 2011

Before the economy tanked in 2008 and being broke and desperate suddenly became the new look for all honkies to rock, most white people only ever ended up at a government unemployment office once, MAYBE twice, in a lifetime.

But when that humiliating day would come and you went on down to the stanky white government building on a street you had never stopped on to ask some bald-headed black lady beauraucrat with glasses on a chain behind the counter what you had fill out and what you had to do to get money and not have her exact revenge on you for the last 400 years, you would always run into one other white guy sitting in a chair filling out the same form as you.

When this moment would happen between you and the other white guy in there trying to get free money, an initial look would be exchanged between empathetic honkslices. A look that said “What the hell just happened to us?! We were doing everything right for so long!”

But as soon as that moment started to set in, the bonding and the comfort would leave, and both white guys would suddenly get self-conscious and some sort of indirect bizarre racistness and each think to themselves, “Wait! Does that honkey over there think I’m not one of us? Does he think I’m one of them? Does he think THIS is my thing? That I don’t work? That I just come in here every two weeks and sponge off other people? Oh, hell no! I can’t have some other white guy I’ve never met and will never see again who doesn’t know my name thinking my mama raised a freeloader! I gotta say something to set him straight about who I really am. And I gotta do it now!”

White Guy 1:
“Aw, man! I almost didn’t find this place. I’ve never been here before. Hell, I had never even heard of it. What do they call this stuff? Un-Imm-pah-loy-ment? Man, it sure sucks I just got fired from all SEVEN of my jobs that I worked so hard at!”

White Guy 2: “Oh, I know! I got fired, FOR NO REASON – CUZ I WORK HARD, from all EIGHT of my jobs! I sure wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to. And I’m gettin’ off this un-imm-pah-loy-mint the first chance I get a shitty job, even if it pays less than this free shit does. Cuz I ain’t lazy!”

White Guy 1: “You sayin’ I AM? Cuz I aint!……”

And this shit would go on and on until the first guy gets called up by the bald lady to hear her verdict on his fate. If she were to never call either one of them up to her desk, they would out-exaggerate each other to death about how lazy they aren’t and how they are better than everyone else in the building.

But, BUT, there is one “white guy at the unemployment office” scenario that is worse than this.

It’s when you start to play that “I ain’t lazy” game with some white guy filling shit out at a clip board and he looks at you a look that proudly says, “I AM. I’m totally fucking lazy. And damn proud of it.”

And his look continues on and he shrugs at you like he’s better than your uppity ass. His look says, “Well,well, well. Look at you. You worked your whole damn life. You got up early. You stayed at the office late. You sacrificed so much. And for what? To be right here with me? Lazy fucking me! I haven’t done shit my whole damn life. In fact, I on-purpose chose to do everything wrong because I knew if I did everything right, just like you: I’d still end up like you: standing right here with me… a lazy loser like me. You thought you were better than me. But where are you now? Right here with me! We’re equals, buddy! You should’ve chose laziness. I’ve had way more fun than you. You lose!”

But there’s no need to worry about those awkward white-on-white psychological wars at the unemployment office, because now we’re all poor! Hooray for equality!

May 12th, 2011

You’re fucking brilliant. HOMO.

Frank Nitti

June 4th, 2011

Up,up,down,down,left,right,left,right,A,B, START
SWAG ON!!!!! Dope shit homie!!!! Holla!!! BOK!!!!


August 6th, 2011


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