Wrapping up June ’09. Where to start? Gotta be Mike. RIP and all that. My patience for most of the postmortem analysis is non-existent, a rare exception being this interview from Details magazine (Which still exists! King and Vibe go out of business but Details lives on?! WTFuck?), in which nothing-less-than-legendary producer Quincy Jones talks pretty openly about MJ’s life and death. The killer exchange:

Q: But it must’ve been so disturbing to see Michael’s face turn into what it turned into.
A: It’s ridiculous, man! Chemical peels and all of it. And I don’t understand it. But he obviously didn’t want to be black.

Crazy, right? Not shocking-crazy, but crazy nonetheless. One thing I’ve always wondered about Michael Jackson in relation to his audience: For years, prominent black male artists have cited him as an influence and legend, giving him nothing but respect — and that hasn’t changed even as black male music celebrity has increasingly been limited to muscle-bound, hyper-masculine, unquestionably hetero singers, producers and MCs. Everything, in other words, that Michael was not. That disconnect blows my mind. Has any other artist — or better yet, could any other artist — ever get a fraction of the pass MJ got, most of it for work he did 25-plus years ago?

Regardless, I cannot mention Quincy Jones in an E&C post without mentioning his daughter, one of the finest imaginable examples of the wonders of racial mixing.

Oh, Rashida. How lovely you are. Thank you, Quincy Jones, for marrying a white lady that one time.

*

On this, though, it seems Richard Nixon and I might have disagreed. In most other areas, I’m confident Dick the Trickster would’ve been a loyal E&C reader, but something tells me he’s not a fan of interracial procreation. And what tells me that? Um, he does!

We’ve known for years that Nixon was the mix-tape king back when Kay-Slay was just a glimmer in his mama’s eye. Turns out that he’s got some ish in common with Pac and Big, too: His steady stream of life-after-death joints, each one hotter than the last. In the latest, Dick offers his thoughts on abortion. He seemed generally to think it was a bad thing… except, you know, for the worst-case scenarios.

“There are times when an abortion is necessary. I know that. When you have a black and a white,” he told an aide. “Or a rape.”

Word? Thank you, Mr. President, for being dead.

*

Disappointing news about our military, and just when I was about to sign off on my 4-year-old’s early enrollment in Marine Corps: Salon tells us that the Army is opening its arms wide to Neo-Nazis.

“I was 14 when I decided I wanted to be a Nazi,” he says… That’s when he first heard Skrewdriver, a band he calls “the godfather of the white power movement.” He had an image from one of Skrewdriver’s album covers — a Viking carrying a staff, an icon among white nationalists — tattooed on his left forearm. Soon after he had a Celtic cross, an Irish symbol appropriated by neo-Nazis, emblazoned on his stomach. At 15, Fogarty moved with his dad to Tampa, where he started picking fights with groups of black kids at his new high school. “On the first day, this bunch of niggers, they thought I was a racist, so they asked, ‘Are you in the KKK?’” he tells me. “I said, ‘Yeah,’ and it was on.” Soon enough, he was expelled….

(Editor’s note: Seems like those “niggers” were pretty observant, huh?)

Army regulations prohibit soldiers from participating in racist groups, and recruiters are instructed to keep an eye out for suspicious tattoos. At a Tampa recruitment office, though, Fogarty sailed right through the signup process… Fogarty’s ex-girlfriend, intent on destroying his new military career, sent a dossier of photographs to Fort Stewart. The photos showed Fogarty attending white supremacist rallies. “They hauled me before some sort of committee and showed me the pictures,” Fogarty says. “I just denied them and said my girlfriend was a spiteful bitch.” He adds: “They knew what I was about. But they let it go because I’m a great soldier.”

Looks like my son probably won’t join the Army after all. I don’t mind if he’s racist — I mean, that’s up to him, right? — but I can assure you no son of mine will be getting such shitty tattoos.

*

Racist Transformers! I could give a shit, but the homey Max Airington is a big fan of the movie, and I’m still hoping he’ll chime in on this at some point. I’m not counting on it, though, because “Max” is lazy. Also, one of his most recent Twitter/Facebook updates made reference to professional basketball, rap music, and strip clubs — yes, that’s all in one update. I trust he’s living out the stereotype as some sort of experiment for E&C’s benefit. Perhaps he’ll let us know.

*

Waitohholyshit—Max will be up in arms about this! KFC is fronting.

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I could do this all day, but people have jobs to avoid and grills to start and fireworks to maim themselves with, so lemme go with some quick hitters here:

-The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations thinks it might be a good idea to lose part of its name. (Hint: Not the “Rhode Island” part).

-I watched Gran Torino the other night; let me take this opportunity to recommend it, and to encourage one and all to greet people they’ve just met with the phrase, “Good day, Pusscake.” Trust.

Anyway, if the folks who run the schools in Michigan are anything like Clint Eastwood in the flick, this news does not surprise me in the least. Behave, black children!

-E&C loves it some NPR. We especially like Michele Norris, both because of how her voice soothes our burning ears, and because, for no apparent good reason, she pronounces her first name “ME-shell.” Well, now we love her even better, having read that she’s taking the summer off to write a book about race. Us, we keep right on working through the summer as we blog about race, but whatever works for you, ME-shell.

-Speakin’ of readin’, E&C is gonna try to read this soon. Maybe we’ll do a book club and stuff. Or maybe I’ll read it myself and just yell my thoughts at strangers on the street. Either way, we look forward to it.

*

Last thing for June: E&C Rap Battle! Call it pandering if you want, but we are down with the youth, and the youth love this shit.

Alright, E&C Rap Battle contestant No. 1… Hurricane Chris! In, um, the Louisiana State Legislature! Which apparently has a shitty sound system!

Sometimes late at night, after the kids have gone to bed and I’m folding laundry (this is about the only time I watch TV anymore), I flip through the various MTV channels. I’ve seen the actual video for “Halle Berry” a few times, and was almost literally dumbfounded the first time I saw it; I realize it’s saying something to be amazed at just how bad a semi-popular rap song/video can be in 2009, but there it is.

And E&C Rap Battle contestant No. 2… these guys!

(Click this link for a better-quality vid, and to check the 6-9 guy’s flow. Please do this. You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.)

And the winner is… trick question. Ain’t no winning here. Scroll back up and look at that picture of Rashida for a while. You’ll feel better.

I’ll say what I’ve told a few friends already: I’m far less saddened by the death of a 50-year-old apparent drug addict, possible child molester and obvious weirdo than I am by the details of this poor man’s life. What a fucked up existence. What price for such talent. What an ultimate reminder of how fucked it can be to be famous.

Ok!

Now, those confessions.

1. In trying to think of a name for this long-discussed blog a few months back, I finally settled on Ebony & Crackers as a very funny (seriously, it’s very funny) twist on “Ebony & Ivory,” that unforgettably happy bit of ’80s earnestness from Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson. Two titans of popular music, and you may not have noticed, but one of them was black, and the other one was white.

This is why it worked.

That’s why I chose this awesome picture of Jacko & Macca for the wallpaper on E&C’s Twitter page.

Man am I stupid.

“Ebony & Ivory,” by Stevie Wonder & Paul McCartney. I named our blog after a misremembrance. Enjoy the song and video today, when no one else in the whole word will be watching it.

2. This suburban white boy’s first four records — literally, LP records — received as Christmas presents in 1983/4:

-Billy Joel, An Innocent Man

-The Police, Synchronicity

-U2, The Unforgettable Fire

-Michael Jackson, Thriller

That is some broad fucking appeal right there.

3. I saw an item a couple weeks ago in some British newspaper about how Michael Jackson’s ears were apparently falling apart because plastic surgeons had taken so much cartilage out of them in an attempt to fix his nose. I read it and snickered and came really, really close to posting it here, but then I didn’t. It felt too mean, unnecessarily so. I’ve felt the same about all this shit last night and today: Mike’s life increasingly demanded mockery, scorn and pity from so many, and I guess I felt it best to stick with the last of those emotions. Nobody likes being pitied, but it seems better than the first two. Especially today.

It’s not bad, I guess, but I feel like both these guys have done roughly the same thing already, separately and in other groups, and that it was fresher and newer and better when they were doing it previously than it is now.

If I could boil these feelings down to their essence, I think I’d say: Boots, bring back Pam the Funkstress, please.

And: Tom, playing your guitar like a turntable somehow seemed much cooler 15 years ago.

Also, the fat kid at 4:57 = greatest 3/4 of a second in American music video history. Don’t try to argue. 

Enjoy your weekend, and rest well in the knowledge that the power is still being fought. It just doesn’t sound quite as cool as it used to.

Except: Gay marriage? Illegal in California and New York (for now), but legal in Iowa.

And now, the Senate resolution apologizing for this country’s history of slavery and racial segregation? Introduced by an old white dude… from Iowa. He even knows what Juneteenth is! What?!

Good looking out, Tom Harkin. Long-overdue apologies from the federal government don’t change shit, but as symbolic gestures go, this seems like a good one. (It’s also probably worth noting that the resolution “includes a disclaimer saying that nothing in it supports or authorizes reparations by the United States.” I tend to think this is probably a good idea. Perhaps some day we will open up this topic for discussion. Some day…)

Iowa. Maybe Danny Hoch was on to something after all.

Get it? It’s a site gag! Because black people have much bigger eyeballs than white people! Oh my goodness that’s good…

A Republican political affiliate from the deep South shares a racist electronic transmission, gets called on it, and essentially apologizes only for getting caught—and this exact thing happens twice in as many days. I’m trying to think of an analogy for people doing dumb things that are so obvious that, dumb as they clearly are, you’re still honestly surprised that they keep doing them, because, seriously, they are so obvious… but I can’t. There’s no parallel. Southern Republicans are making no effort whatsoever.

What follows is how I would answer if ever asked for my all-time favorite minute-and-change of hip-hop music:

(Hopefully you got the HD feature to work. It looks hella better in HD.)

That late-era clip of PE’s “Rebirth” reminds us of a couple things: 1, That the word “radio” never sounds cooler than it does coming out of Chuck D’s mouth; and 2, That the KKK does indeed have three-piece suits. Or, in this case, probably a business-casual skirt of sensible length. Plus, a computer. And just enough knowledge of PhotoShop to be dangerous.

Back in college, I made a road trip with some friends to East Carolina University, which is actually in rural North Carolina, but same shit. We got to town late on a Friday night. We were crashing at some girl’s sister’s place, and we met up with her and her friends — mostly white girls and a couple of black dudes — at some bar. The black guys walked away, and this drunken white girl I’d met two minutes earlier turns to me and says, “If my daddy knew I was talking to those n*ggers…”

Except she left out the asterisk.

That was about 15 years ago, and it’s one of the few times in my life I’ve felt what I would describe as “shock” at a social interaction. This shit today, with Rusty? It’s like dude’s not even trying.

I heard about Loving Day last week when I was at the crunchy bookstore/coffee shop wifey frequents. The place is left wing like Ryan Giggs, and somebody’s always leaving some fliers up to promote some sort of community event or some such. They make good stuff here at this little coffee shop, but the service is slow as shit, so I often find myself checking out the fliers to pass the time. And thank goodness, a notice for a local Loving Day celebration caught my eye.

Forty-two years ago today, Richard (white dude) and Mildred (black lady) Loving (Richard’s real last name, no shit) had their jungle fever justified when the U.S. Supreme Court overturned the state of Virginia’s legal prohibition of interracial marriage. This one doesn’t rank like Brown v. Board of Ed. in the public consciousness, but it’s pretty major, no? The thing that struck me was the timeline: 1967 seems like forever ago, before I was born and while the capital-letter Civil Rights Movement was still on the actual move.

Then I flipped through the Web site and, hey, how ’bout this: Alabama had a similar law on the books until 2000! And South Carolina wasn’t much better! And in both states, about 20 percent of the population thought it would maybe be best to just leave those laws where they were! Holy fucking shit!

Of course, I’m not really surprised. Race hate is as trendy as ever; in fact, trendier than it’s been in a while. Hate Groups Are Riled Up, CNN says researchers say. Here’s a highlight:

President Obama’s election has been a huge issue with white supremacist groups, in part because he represents in their minds a demographic shift in which the white majority in the United States is becoming slimmer, Levin added. ”Interracial marriage and interracial children are the worst thing in their world, so [the demographic shift] is a big deal for them,” Levin said.

The homie Paul Krugman’s got a piece in the Times today pinning a lot of this on the right-wing media, which I want to believe is accurate. I think it probably mostly is. Mostly, I’m linking to Paul’s piece because he mentions “the black helicopter crowd,” which gives me all the excuse I need to post this:

Check out the crazy white girl at 1:50! She looks like she’s 12. Jeezus.

So, anyway, yeah, Happy Loving Day. And thank god for Mixed Chicks. Murs knows what the fuck is up.

Motherfucker is 89 years old!

A fun excerpt from James W. Von Brunn’s online bio:

In 1981 Von Brunn attempted to place the treasonous Federal Reserve Board of Governors under legal, non-violent, citizens arrest. He was tried in a Washington, D.C. Superior Court; convicted by a Negro jury, Jew/Negro attorneys, and sentenced to prison for eleven years by a Jew judge. A Jew/Negro/White Court of Appeals denied his appeal.

I know what you’re thinking: It’s terrific to see to see the Jew and the Negro working together to put a bad cracker in jail. But it turns out that, somehow, unbelievably, some Negro still do not trust some Jew.

Rev. Wright, would you like to explain yourself?

Asked if he had spoken to the president, Wright said: “Them Jews aren’t going to let him talk to me.”

No, I thought not.

You know what I DO think? I think if Them Jews was a two-piece retro-blues band with a white non-Jewish (though possibly lapsed Mormon) singer/guitarist and a black non-Jewish (though possibly lapsed Muslim) multi-instrumentalist, I would buy their record. On VINYL.

Most speakers exhorted the students… to get outside the stuffy-white-guy stereotype that follows the party like a shadow. This became especially awkward at Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty’s keynote speech, where seven white guys sat on the dais. Last year’s national leadership had three women; this year’s has none. According to those present, in his speech, RNC Chairman Michael Steele singled out the one black woman in the room for special recognition.

Money Mike is the gift that keeps on giving. You can see why I love this man.

There’s also this. Notice how LeBron doesn’t even shake Gortat’s hand after the block. Shameful.

Anyway, white guys blocking black guys’ shots. This is good, right? I was worried at first that posting these together might be interpreted as xenophobic, what with it being white European guys blocking black Americans. Then I remembered that Kobe is Italian, and Gortat is a skinhead, so, you know, totally different things.

Now if someone can tell me how an NBA Finals game in which JJ Redick is on the floor in the final minutes of regulation and overtime is actually allowed to count in the record books, I’d appreciate it.