philly comic con, tony atlas and how to fight like a girl

played hooky from my life yet again today and skipped off to be with my permanent boyfriend at the philly comic con -- a minor epicenter of sorts for freaks, geeks, nerds, gamers, trolls, stans, lolitas and other assorted socially inept wierdos. attending these events for his company -- booth display and all -- is a part of what he does so well. it's the same comic cons every year. after awhile, all of it swirls into one huge geek prom, replete with costumes, festooned with comic book seller's banners, layered with overpriced greasy food galore. sometimes i come with him, sometimes i don't. this time around, i wanted to get out of the city, make a last ditch effort to find some civilized way to howl at the moon before spring officially ended and sprung me into another season that i wasn't heavily anticipating.

i wasn't giddy about leaving town. don't get me wrong. one night in philly is exciting stuff. the food is fantastic. the museums are incredible. its ultra family friendly. the downtown area is accessible and walkable in an uncomplicated way that sort of hearkens back to another era, the way i can trip down the sidewalk and look down a side street paved in cobblestones and see perfectly preserved row houses. the old and the new are juxtaposed against each other so comfortably. and the vibe is grounded and soulful. i get a sense of history all around me, and i LOVE any city that embraces that.

apropos of nothing, mpb asked me if i wanted to move to philly as we were walking through the downtown area to dinner, just like that. it's easy to see us living here. not that we would, but that's just how cool this place is.

the night before i was to arrive, mpb told me that tony atlas was at the comic con. there were a slew of blaksploitation folk there, too. richard roundtree. pam grier. oh, and vivica fox! but they were all eclipsed by tony atlas. was he really there? i think i started yelling into the phone.

tony atlas was a huge part of my childhood. when i was a kid, my whole family would sit around and watch wwf wrestling matches, gleefully yelling at the tv screen and carrying on. i can remember daddy roaring at the screen when tony atlas came into the ring, because it was understood he was going to wreck the place. all those tag team matches were crazy! i can distinctly recall him wiping the floor -- quite literally -- with hulk hogan.

at that time in the state of georgia, mr. atlas dominated the sport, unquestionably. he had been mr. usa and was a bona fide strong man before he became a professional wrestler. now that i think about it, it was a really big deal that a black man was conquering the sport the way that he did. but in the moment, i wasn't thinking about any of that. all i could really think (besides wow, i hope he doesn't kill that guy) was, he's so astonishingly beautiful, i can hardly look at him.

beautiful. really, that's the only word that can truly describe him -- then and now. just so you can get an idea of what i was seeing as a kid, take a look at these videos.

here's hulk hogan starting a feud with tony atlas as he does a few poses for the crowd. (when hulk called tony atlas "boy", i was ready to put my foot through the tv!)



and here's a big fight they had at madison square garden.



needless to say, i wanted to be just like tony atlas when i grew up. strong. physically powerful. fearless. inexhaustable. relentless. aggressive. i quite liked the idea of physically running someone down and beating the snot out of them, and not going to prison for it. i honestly believed that fighting really did solve everything. actually, i still do. it's just that nowadays, i let God do my fighting for me. but i digress...

it didn't dawn on me that i couldn't have any of those abilities because i was a girl. i honestly didn't think that any of those things were exclusively male. estrogen? testosterone? meh. i figured it was mine if i wanted it when i grew up -- like everything else i could think of. the only thing that was holding me back as far as i could tell was bedtime. that, and my parents -- constantly telling me what to do.

*sigh*

so anyway, yeah. tony atlas.

when i got to the convention center, i was absolutely giddy. i wandered around until i found him, sitting at a booth. for a fee (which i was more than happy to fork over), he autographed a photo of himself as i remembered him, and we took a picture together. we had a nice little chat. and then i floated back to my hotel room because for some strange reason, i couldn't sleep a wink the night before. later when i examined the picture, i couldn't believe how big his arms were. don't i look blissed out?


not bad for a 67 year old.

i skipped back to mpb's booth and blurted, tony atlas called me sugar! needless to say, mpb thought that was hilarious.

what did we talk about? how gender is irrelevant when it comes to fighting. there's no such thing as fighting like a girl. fighting is technique. either you know how to fight or you don't. how strong black women are. how they had to be strong for themselves and for their children, because in some instances, black men were absent. how strong his mother was and how she knew how to fight, for all of them.

i wanted to get some of that on video, but when i came back the next day, he'd already left. dejected, i went to the eastern state penitentiary and wandered around amongst decay and ruin and ghosts.

mr. atlas has an autobiography out called atlas: too much, too soon on crowbar press. clearly, a must read. God only knows what happened to him...

america the divided: dunbar village and why you don't know about it

nowhere is the racial divide in this country more evident than during the evening news. i can't believe that everyone in america doesn't know what happened at dunbar village last june. aside from bet news and other african-american news sources (programs that most americans that aren't of color don't watch, to put it lightly), i have yet to see any national news coverage to discuss or address this issue whatsoever.

this is why so many black people are angry and in a panic. this is why we have our own news sources and radio programs and newspapers. because the resources that are for the common good and that are supposedly for all of us aren't reporting about what's happening in our communities. so we have to do it. we aren't being divisive. they aren't being inclusive. they never have been.

i can certainly tell you all about what's happening in your collective community. why can't you tell me what's happening in mine?

until basic issues like reporting the news are rectified, i will never believe that there is equality or justice here. those are buzzwords used to pitch this country favorably in a global marketplace. it's all a marketing ploy. as always, we're selling the idea of what america is. what's funny is that everyone else in the world can see right through it.

but i digress.

the thing that is so profoundly disturbing about the entire dunbar village issue is that a black woman was assaulted to this extreme -- as many as 10 black youths beat and sexually assaulted her in front of her 12 year old son and forced both of them to do some pretty sick things -- and the nationally recognized so-called leaders of the black community have rushed to defend and protect the accused and not the victims. for a long time, i was fairly convinced that we have been conditioned to denigrate black women. unfortunately, this entire situation proves me right.

now what?

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DEAR READERS:

This mass open letter is a call to action for all black people who care about the safety and welfare of black women and children in America. If you are concerned about the recent developments about Dunbar Village, please copy the post below, and email it to all of your friends and coworkers.

WE WILL NO LONGER BE SILENT ABOUT VIOLENCE AGAINST BLACK WOMEN.

Copy and email below, and title your email: Stop Al Sharpton and the NAACP from endangering Black Women!

Let us know in the comments section if you are supporting the movement to protect black women from black on black violence.

______________________________

Stop Al Sharpton and the NAACP from endangering Black Women!


Right-thinking black people everywhere are stunned by the recent betrayal of Al Sharpton and the NAACP in a situation that is just too outrageous to ignore.

This is a painful story to tell, but it's important for the moral, law-abiding majority of black Americans to understand exactly why Al Sharpton and the NAACP must be immediately stopped.

On June 18, 2007, a black woman was gang raped by 10 youths and forced at gunpoint to have sex with her own 12 year old son in a housing complex called Dunbar Village in West Palm Beach, Florida. The young men not only viciously punched, kicked and sliced this sister and her
son with glass objects, but they also blinded her boy by pouring nail polish remover into his eyes.

The young men forced this sister and son to lay naked in a bathtub together, and attempted to set them on fire (they could not find matches). The youths boldly took cell phone pictures so that they could enjoy their violent, immoral and sadistic acts at a later time. The violence continued for more than three hours, and although this sister's neighbors heard her screams, no one called the police or came to her aid.

This sister and her son had to walk a mile to the hospital, because the assailants stole her car, and threatened to kill her and her family if she told the authorities.

Only four of the young men have been apprehended, while the remaining six are on the loose, doing Lord knows what in our communities. There is no manhunt for the remaining suspects.

As devastating as this story is, what the NAACP and Al Sharpton have done about it will simply take your breath away:

Not only did the NAACP ignore hundreds of requests to assist this woman because it was 'outside the scope of their mission', but they joined forces with Al Sharpton, and sent their lawyers to speak out IN SUPPORT OF THE RAPISTS.

You heard me right.

Even though there is conclusive DNA evidence and signed confessions, the NAACP and Al Sharpton are saying that it is 'unfair' to not offer bail to these four alleged rapists. They even had a press release about it.

IT IS TIME FOR SENSIBLE BLACK PEOPLE TO STOP THIS KIND OF NONSENSE, ONCE AND FOR ALL.

Al Sharpton and the NAACP are banking on the belief that you and I will be just like this black woman's neighbors. Join me by saying NOT THIS TIME. We will not turn a deaf ear to when we hear calls for help from one of our sisters and brothers who are being victimized.

Stop the NAACP and Al Sharpton's National Action Network from committing this disgrace in our community. Just this once, let's stand up and be counted by saying that we demand safe neighborhoods for our women and children.

Here is what you can do:

1. Spread the word. Forward this email if your conscience and concern have been raised. Send it to every concerned black citizen that you know.
2. Demand an explanation from your local NAACP chapter about thiscase. Cancel your membership to these organizations, and write a letter explaining that you will return when they prioritize the public safety needs of black women and children.
3. If you know an African American reporter or a black radio talk show
   host, forward this story them and ask them to follow up on it.
4. If you do not belong to these organizations, call and write them to tell them of your outrage and displeasure:
   

NAACP National Headquarters
4805 Mt. Hope Drive
Baltimore MD 21215
Toll Free: (877) NAACP-98
Local: (410) 580-5777

National Action Network
Rev. Al Sharpton
106 W. 145th Street
Harlem, New York 10039
212-690-3070
877-NAN-HOJ1

Each Friday at 9:00am, visit any of the websites below, which will give you an update on the status of this situation. DO NOT LET THIS GO. Let us start working for safer neighborhoods in black communities.

Read the history of the Dunbar Village problem here:

http://www.dunbarvillage2008.blogspot.com

all apologies

sorry i didn't post any pithy remarks about black history month in february. i'm usually so good about that stuff. the thing is, i don't walk around thinking about what a wonderfully uppity negress i am. to quote zora neale hurston, i'm too busy sharpening my oyster knife. actually, i don't think anybody spends a whole lot of time dwelling on their race or gender unless something happens that draws their attention to it. and if you're black, something is happening all the time. the difficulty is to not meditate on it.

when my blackness isn't brought to the forefront of my daily goings on, i'm thinking stuff like, i can't believe that i need four sets of boot trees or i'm almost out of vitamins or i'm not going to make it to jef lee johnson's show at the jazz standard next week or boy, do i love lobster bisque or i should call my grandma tomorrow. until something happens, i'm just another person, reaching for enough miracle whip for my sandwich. believe me -- the stupid things that can happen to people of color even in a place that's supposed to be as cool as nyc can turn anyone into a militant/activist. and in that regard, brothers and sisters, there's a little malcolm x (or a little betty shabazz) in each of us, no matter where we are in the world.

so here's a little cheat sheet of what's going on in my black world:

1. i need (yes, need!) three box sets: another one in the bob dylan bootleg series, willie dixon on chess and the layla and other assorted love songs 25th anniversary re-issue. listening to a lot of charlie christian and johnny cash these days, and i'm learning how to play bar chords and power chords.
   
2. i love playing guitar so much, i've already picked out my next one: a beautiful scaled down A & L parlor guitar, in a strange shade of blue.
3. believe it or not, i found a restaurant in east harlem called creole that serves real honest-to-goodness bona fide alligator etoufee.
   
4. my friend and i are going to see new york divided: slavery and the civil war this weekend. (maybe we'll have gator afterwards...)
5. congratulate me: i've finally perfected my ultra-southern sour-cream chocolate cake.
   
6. i think i'll bake one and take it to abdul at a. bistro in brooklyn. i miss my african chef.
   
7. i'm reading odimumba kwamdela these days. (if you've never heard of him, i highly recommend the semi-fictional novel/underground classic niggers, this is canada.)
   
8. if you want to get a real taste of dany laferriere's work, skip the movie how to make love to a negro without getting tired and read the book. or if you want to see one of his movies, please do yourself a favor and go see heading south. it's effing brilliant.
   
9. now that every available windowsill in my apartment has a thriving philodendron, i've decided to grow something that blooms: an amaryllis.
10. i really need (!!!) to go see the allman brothers at the beacon this month, for march madness.