Roger Porter

May 2, 2011

There is so much trouble in the world right now, so much confusion, and so much futility.

I’m sorry but I won’t allow myself to confuse murder with justice. I understand that a lot of people feel like Bin Laden deserved to die for what he did, and maybe part of me does too, but that doesn’t make it justice. Justice in America is due process and, for all of those who have recently forgotten, we pride ourselves as a Christian nation. As followers of Christ and believers in Holy Scripture it’s hard for me to see how we can celebrate the murder of 5 people. If murder is an abomination then that should hold true for everyone. As a civilized people we should not make exceptions for anyone no matter how heinous their crimes. It is our duty to show enlightenment even in the way we punish criminals— especially in the way we punish criminals. But in the case of Bin Laden there was only a dead body dumped in the sea. There will be no prison time for him, no reformation, no suffering, just the martyr’s death that he has probably dreamed of since he was a little boy.

And what do we make of the heavily populated city where Bin Laden was killed? Pakistan has some of the poorest regions in the world, yet Bin Laden was able to walk around town with a $25 million price tag on his head for years. In the end it wasn’t a member of his organization or any of his countrymen that killed him for the money; to the contrary, it was US Navy SEALS who killed him because it was their job. This speaks volumes to the dedication of his followers. And it makes me question our objective in this so-called war on terror.

 I mean are we supposed to bomb these people into submission? Are we supposed to show them the light of democracy? Are we supposed to just keep slugging it out until we win? Well then what classifies as a victory because, as capitalists, there is no way we are going to change the ideology of a culture that has very little regard for money. How does America defeat an organization that would pass up on $25 million everyday for 10 years straight in the name of faith and honor?

The death of Bin Laden has been touted by some as the biggest victory in the war on terror but I see it differently. All I see is yet another casualty in a war that should have never been started in the first place. I see several more strikes from both sides in what now amounts to global gangbanging. I see a lot more deaths, I see continued military presence, I see a lot of things, but what I don’t see is an end. I don’t see justice and I don’t see god. All I see is death.

Roger Porter

May 1, 2011

I would much rather have heard that Osama Bin Laden had been captured than to find out he has been killed. It would have brought me a terrific amount of joy to know that Osama Bin Laden was in federal custody somewhere on US soil awaiting trial. Then he would be forced to answer personally to the family members of the many thousands of people whom he has massacred not only in America but in Kenya and Tanzania as well.

I would have liked to see Bin Laden do life in the penitentiary just like my uncle is doing life. Perhaps it would have been comical to hear stories of Bin Laden walking the yard barefoot because no one put money on his books. Or to hear of him flipping out on a correctional officer because he couldn’t get a phone call, or they skipped his turn to take a shower, or because his commissary was late, or they refused to give him his mail.

I would have been elated if Osama were made to suffer like my people suffer over dope charges, robbery beefs, and the infamous 3^rd strike. For if anyone deserves to have their minds slowly debilitated in the United States prison system it’s Osama Bin Laden. Not Leonard Peltier, or Mummia Abu Jamal, but a real killer of innocent people.

If Osama Bin Laden was given a fair trial and sentenced to life in a maximum security federal penitentiary somewhere in the state of Colorado then that would be justice. His being killed inside a mansion in Pakistan is not. Osama Bin Laden never had to do any time for his crimes against humanity.

Osama Bin Laden got off easy.

Roger Porter

April 30, 2011

Today I found myself at Natural Bridges State Park near Santa Cruz, CA. Natural Bridges is the perfect place to go on a warm spring day because of its magnificent beach and the breathtaking views. The people are beautiful too, and they seemed to represent every corner of the world…every corner except mine. I realized as I was showing my daughter the amazing tide pools at the park that outside of us there were no other black people there.

The beach was really crowded as a matter of fact. There were Pakistanis, Indians, Filipinos, French people, Mexicans, Whites, Asians, but no black folk to be seen. I thought to myself maybe it’s because Santa Cruz has a very small African-American population but then as we walked through the park I heard several different languages being spoken and I smelled a very diverse array of ethnic foods being cooked on the grill. It became pretty clear that everyone there was not from Santa Cruz proper or even the surrounding area.

The lack of blackness at the beach puzzled me a bit. I can’t understand how a group of people who lived on the coast of Africa for thousands and thousands of years, unlearned loving the beach so quickly. And it isn’t just the beach either. It’s also understood that hiking, and camping are extremely uncool things for black people to do (incidentally I enjoy doing all of these activities regularly). How did this happen? How did appreciating the beauty of the Earth become strictly forbidden for the Earths original people?

I can’t give a very thorough answer to that question; however, I know it has a lot to do with the legacy of slavery and segregation. I know a large part of institutionalized racism is confining an oppressed group to a certain space and disallowing them to ever come out. That’s what ghettos, barrios, shantytowns, and favelas are all about and today was proof as to how effective those constructs have become. After a while people don’t even try to leave their boundaries. Not even on a gorgeous Saturday in the liberal state of California.

It was a very nice day at the beach though. We saw starfish, crabs, and jellyfish, built a sand castle and played in the water until close to sunset. I made it a point that we were among the last people to leave just to represent because after all, you know how we do— LOL.

Roger Porter

April 28, 2011

I listen to Nina when I’m feeling really down. It’s been this way for about 5 years now and I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because when I hear the pain inside her voice it makes my own issues seem insignificant. Maybe it’s because her voice is as pure as the church house is supposed to be thus I have come to appreciate the way it washes away my daily sins and past transgressions.

I have never heard a Nina Simone record played on the radio which undoubtedly adds to her mystique. An old girlfriend of mine introduced me to her music some years back and I’ve been in love with Ms. Simone ever since. There’s something about discovering a musician through word of mouth that is extremely empowering. I feel as though I have a personal relationship with Nina. It is as if I have access to a secret that only real music fans know about. When I hear Wild is the Wind I know my baby is singing to me. I know she is striking those piano keys for me. I know she misses me. I know she loves me. I know she is as obsessed with me as I am with her and it is only through the appreciation of timeless art that we are allowed to be in love.

I once tried to share my adoration for Nina Simone with my mother over Sunday breakfast. I asked her whether she listened to Nina when she was younger. She scrunched up her face and replied; “I don’t know. She’s just so ugly.” I immediately changed the topic, feeling let down and oh so hurt. I was also very perplexed, wondering why her looks mattered at all. Of course I think she is beautiful but that’s not the point. The reality is that most Americans would probably side with my mother on that issue. Moreover it strikes me as absurd to know that if Nina were an aspiring artist today she probably wouldn’t be able to get a record deal for that exact reason. Never mind the fact that she was a classically trained pianist, disregard the intense spiritually of her recordings, and her dedication to uplifting oppressed people. Ugly women don’t sell records. Even the most righteous woman I have ever met can’t help but to prove that theory to be correct.

Thank god mama’s baby child has learned to choose his own path over the years, for this is a love that I am willing to fight over. I would disassociate myself from the whole world to be with the woman who reminded me that I am Young Gifted and Black at a time when I felt like a failure. There were moments when I forgot who I was and she sang to me in the middle of the night; “You kiss me and with your kiss my life begins. Daddy you’re Spring to me, all things to me. Don’t you know you’re life itself?” With that I became rejuvenated, refocused, resurrected. Maybe I would have given up a long time ago had I not known that Nina would never give up on me.

So I think of her when I am uninspired and I call on her when everyone else claims to be unavailable and Nina has never let me down because My Baby Just Cares for Me.

Roger Porter

April 27, 2011

Remember when we were young and higher education was marketed to us like the latest toy during Christmas time, except it wasn’t just seasonal it was all year round? When I was a kid the media, teachers, and adults in general made it seem like if you got a college degree then you were set for life. Now you’ll find people with BA’s, MA’s, and PhD’s in the same unemployment line as high school dropouts.

It’s a shame and I didn’t really start thinking about it until I was driving through the city running some errands while listening to Young Jeezy (who is a very underrated M.C. by the way). Jeezy dropped the lines; “I said I’m so hot/ but my house cool/ So many rooms that it look like a high school/ Speaking of high school/ I never passed that/ No work right here/ Know where the cash at.” As I listened to the record I thought damn, knowing what I know now should I continue to stress a college education to the younger generation or just encourage them go out into the real world and pursue their dreams as soon as possible? It’s true that if they drop out of high school they probably won’t make it but if they finish high school—and college—then they probably still won’t make it.

With the current economic depression people may as well just go for it. And I’m not saying people should put all of their energy into buying a million dollar home, jewelry, and a Lamborghini. What I am saying, however, is the time is now propitious for people to chase their wildest dreams. At the present time everyone should go for broke because chances are you’ll wind up broke anyway.

Roger Porter

April 25, 2011

How long can one pursue one’s dreams until the pursuit is gone? It seems as though full time work kills more righteous artists than all the repressive regimes around the world combined. I guess it becomes impossible to resist at some point. I suppose it becomes pretty difficult to continue to wait tables, or substitute teach, or tend bar, or baby sit year after while trying to make it as an artist.

After all everyone has a limit. Everyone has a threshold. Everyone reaches that point where they have to get real and pay the bills…on time. There comes a time when every struggling artist arrives at the conclusion that it is no longer cute to be a struggling artist. That there is nothing cute about being broke. There is nothing cool about borrowing money, living from check to check, having very little yet dreaming very big— no really at some point, I’ve been told, that everyone has to grow up. Grow tired, grow weary, grow cold, grow bitter, become disenchanted, work hard, buy house, have wife, have kids, have dog, stop dreaming, be real, be grown…

The numbers prove that these things are much more likely to come than success as an artist. It seems as though the world is screaming for me to wake up but the world is unaware that I’m in a comma. They may have to consider pulling the plug on this one.

LOGOUT!!!!

Roger Porter

April 23, 2011

You know not having cable really frees the mind. Besides not being able to tune into World Championship Boxing (missing Berto Vs. Ortiz nearly broke my heart) I think having my cable disconnected was the best decision that I ever made. Now instead of flipping through over 500 channels looking for something that isn’t there I do productive things like go to the theater to watch plays, go to the Farmer’s Market, and blog. I am also a lot less inclined to buy stupid things I don’t need because I’m not taking in all those commercials.

When I do look at the basic channels that I actually get I can only take it for about 30 minutes until I start feeling lazy, like man what else can I be doing? I honestly feel like my brain is recovering from years of nonstop television abuse. You know when you think about it it’s such a non interactive form of entertainment. You just sit there on the couch being filled with whatever images are put before you. Even if you do control what you watch, you can’t control the products that are advertised during commercials. For example; you may want to watch a basketball game but that doesn’t necessarily mean you want to be exposed to the glorification of the Marines, Carl’s Jr., and Captain Morgan Rum.

It’s pretty gross how they manipulate you but then what can I say, that’s capitalism. The objective is to get the money by any means necessary. With that being said right now I feel a very real sense of liberation because Comcast won’t be getting my money anytime soon. So I guess this can be looked at as something positive that has happened to me as a result of the recession.

No money, no cable, no problem.

Roger Porter

April 22, 2011

It never ceases to amaze me how whenever I feel like I’m finally getting things together I am always reminded that someone else is not. While at work I got a call today from a friend who only calls me to deliver bad news. He told me that a friend of ours who has been in jail awaiting trial for over a year now is looking at 30 to life in the penitentiary. It shocked the hell out of me when he told me for a few reasons. The primary reason was that he is a first time felony offender and the charges aren’t rape or murder. Given the circumstances of the crimes that he allegedly committed I think 30 years is a bit extreme.

The other reason why that phone call had me down all day is because the last time I spoke to my friend before he got arrested I was convinced that he was heading in the right direction. I no longer saw him hanging out on the corner, he was going to Wyotech studying to be a mechanic, and even his posture seemed upright. His eyes appeared to be focused – not glazed over—and he spoke with a new-found motivation like he was done hanging out with clowns in the streets and he was really about to handle his business. I think at the time he believed everything that he said, so of course I did too.

It’s kind of like having a loved one who is addicted to drugs. They experience some kind of epiphany one day and they make a vow to be clean and sober for the rest of their lives. In the beginning you are skeptical because this isn’t the first time they’ve said these things but then time passes and you can see them making changes in their lifestyle. You witness them read the bible and even catch them exercising. They even give up eating red meat and get a job, maybe even two.

So after about 3 months you believe in them. You believe that this time they are really serious. This time will really last for the rest of their lives. And right after you tell them how proud you are of them, and that you support them, and that you’re sorry for doubting them, they have a major relapse. At this point it becomes pretty clear that you are not nearly as bothered by what they have done to themselves as you are by what they have done to you. It’s the betrayal that kills you. Not the all night drug binge, not the things that they stole from you to get the drugs, not the disease of addiction, but the fact that you believed in something that was a downright lie. That’s the part that keeps you up at night.

I hate to be selfish but I wish I didn’t have this feeling. I wish he would have never put himself in this situation and I’m sure he does too.