the passion of the poverty pimp

The story hit the media like a sonic boom. Four young men filed suit against Bishop Eddie Long, pastor of the twenty-five thousand member New Birth Missionary Baptist Church in Georgia. The men claimed that Long coerced them into sexual relationships after showering them with clothing, free trips, and electronics. Most people were shocked, others not so much. I mean, we’ve heard the story before. An influential pastor in charge of a huge fundamentalist congregation gets caught playing hide the sausage with one his parishioners. The only difference this time was that Eddie Long is African-American and New Birth is one of the biggest black churches in the nation.

But once you get over that difference, what’s being reported to have allegedly happened isn’t new at all. Black folks have known for a very long time that something wrong has been brewing within the sanctuaries of black mega-churches. The community at large has been exposed to rampant homophobia, sexism, and financial impropriety and it’s shameful. Even more shameful that these churches are more popular than ever. The Exclusionary Gospel Of Prosperity has taken a frightening hold over modern theology. It’s disgraceful.

And Bishop Eddie Long is one of the biggest perpetrators. Now when this story first hit, there were only two suits filed. I was still a bit iffy, but when numbers three and four were filed, I was like, “Something in the communion wine definitely ain’t clean”. I was even more disgusted by the sanctimonious responses from other Christians. “We need to pray for Bishop Long and his family” and, “Some of you all have fallen short of the glory, it’s just that your dirt isn’t on front street.” Yeah, whatever with all that. Even the Bishop himself during his petulant and smarmy speech this morning admonished those who were “lost” to come to the altar for prayer. Excuse me Bishop Lacefront, I’m not the one being accused of passing out iPADS for ass, okay? Maybe you need to try a little less projection and a little more humility. I guess I’m asking for too much though.

I mean you have a whole lot more to lose than me. I can see how you wouldn’t want to let go of the reins of your empire. I saw the pictures of your palatial estate. I’ve seen you wearing those shiny suits and sporting that sparkly jewelry. I’ve also heard you preach intolerance of gays ,the subjugation of women, and the love of money. The poor nose-led followers of your flock have responded to your perversion of the gospel by throwing themselves and their cash at your feet. But now some of the chickens are coming home to roost at the feet of the poverty pimp.

I really don’t care if this makes me sound mean or judgmental. To heck with all the guilty until proven innocent crap. Even if Bishop Muscle Shirt manages to worm his way out of this situation, he still has a whole lot to answer for.

the color of happiness

As twilight fades, I’m still remembering the previous night when Rafael Nadal won the U.S Open for the first time. It was a sweet victory shared by so many of us who have followed his career and seem to live and die by each match. People tweeted through tears and blogged with huge grins on their faces over the fact that their hero made the final transition from great player to Legend.

It wasn’t easy. There were rain delays and worries about his opponent, Novak Djokovic. There was frustration about the jumping bean television coverage. All that seemed to fade away after match point. What was left was sheer unmitigated joy. A dream fulfilled. Critics silenced. History rewritten. It was Rafa’s party and everyone was invited.

Nadal was asked a question on his blog for the Times of London about what color did he want the star on his tennis bag to be if he won the Open. He said, “I don’t know. The color of happiness?” It leads to the question then, what is the color of happiness? Is it red mixed with white and blue floating above an ebony sky hovering over  tanned caramel draped in black, gray, and neon yellow? Could it be gleaming silver?

It could be so much and if asked, anyone who experienced it that night would be hard pressed to describe it. But what we all know is that we saw it.

Congratulations Rafa. May you always see the color of happiness.

yes and no (another day at the U.S Open)

It’s day 3 of the U.S Open and I’m already awed by the high quality tennis. Andy Murray looked invincible in his 1st round match. Venus looked very strong even after being tested by a girl who was playing in her first ever Grand Slam tournament. Isner did his thing. Jamaican player Dustin Brown caused an upset, and 18-year-old American Ryan Harrison caused an even bigger one by bouncing out veteran Ivan Lubijic.

Along with Ivan, we said goodbye today to Tomas Berdych (Andy Murray sleeps a little more soundly tonight), Na Li, Jie Zheng (she was beaten by some girl named Ana Ivanovic), Andy Roddick and Victoria Azarenka. Azarenka wasn’t beaten by her opponent though, she was keeled over in the middle of her match and was later diagnosed with a mild concussion. Weird. Let’s all hope for a speedy recovery for Vika. Things just aren’t the same without her snarling at a ball boy.

So again, YES to the tennis, but NOOOOO to the following:

Nope. The gathering at the bodice is distracting and the skirt is way too short.

Non! She only lasted 1 round and that was enough. All the bad mojo and voodoo in the world was woven into that dress-along with some leprechaun vomit.

Nada! The outfit is an out take from the party store challenge on “Project Runway”. Velvet like material belongs on portraits of Elvis and Tupac.

Nyet! The day kit wasn’t any better.  Bra straps popping with a halter teamed with a skirt that constantly had to be adjusted means a big ol’ pile of #FAIL. I hope she wins the tournament though. Still love ya, Vee.