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#hold yourself and others accountable for gods sake!! the police are not for justice. they are power hungry bastards and nothing else
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sorry for being inactive for so long guys :( i was feeling really unmotivated with this blog and i felt like i was reblogging stuff for the sake of reblogging it rather than it being for myself more than anyone and i regret that. i don’t know what the future of this blog will be? but i’m turning seventeen today and i love you all <3
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tuckinpodcast-blog · 7 years
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EPISODE 6: BEYOND THE BRANDO EFFECT
LISTEN: SOUNDCLOUD / iTUNES / GOOGLE PLAY
SOURCES: listed at end of transcript
NOTES: I deeply apologize for my Don Corleone and Cary Grant impressions.
TRANSCRIPT:
Hi, I'm Jack, and this is Tuck In, We're Rolling: Queer Hollywood Stories, and this week, we're going to be talking about Marlon Brando and the way he helped to reshape Hollywood masculinity. This is kind of a three part episode, I think. This week we're talking about Brando, and next week we're talking about James Dean, and the week after that is going to be about Monty Clift. All three of them really sort of started this reshaping process of the way men behaved in Hollywood, and we're going to look at each of them in turn.
So, I debated how personal I wanted to get in the telling of this story. You know, this isn't a podcast about me, it's a podcast about queer Hollywood history. But the stories I'm telling, from back last week to the next two weeks, are going to be stories that mean a lot to me. They're about things that have shaped me, personally. I could sit here and give you a very impersonal account of some of the things that Brando did and a list of movies that he acted in, but even the blandest of filmographies would still be painted because I'm the one telling it, and I think that six episodes in, you folks can tell that I'm not very good at staying objective or impersonal.
Without going on a five minute long spiel about myself, sufficed to say that Brando is another actor who I've been interested in since I was a teenager. He was maybe the first or second person that had me thinking, “Do I want to be this man, or just be with him?” Specifically, I'm talking about him in A Streetcar Named Desire. It was another one we had to watch in school, and it was probably one of the first times that I was like, “Oh, thank God, I thought this black and white movie was going to suck, but it totally doesn't.” This is kind of the first time that I was exposed to classic Hollywood film that I can actually remember – It's a Wonderful Life and Gone With The Wind not withstanding, because one is on television every damn year and is unavoidable, and I absolutely hate the other one. So basically, Cary Grant and Marlon Brando are the two actors that have been with me more or less throughout my formative years.
But, I've gone all the way off topic. Basically, the long and the short of that is: the next few episodes are very dear and personal to me, and I apologize in advance if that clouds or colors my judgment or storytelling.
So, a little background information about Brando, in case the only thing you know about him is how to do a Don Corleone voice and say, “I'll make him an offer he can't refuse.” He was born on April 3, 1924 in Omaha, Nebraska into a family that had a sort of weird, wandering vibe to it. They were all really into Eastern medicine, very big into Civil Rights and Native rights. His mother was an alcoholic for many years until she dried out and started some AA chapters, and he and his father never really got along. He had two older sisters, Jocelyn – who's a pretty famous actress in her own right – and Frances. They moved around a lot, from Omaha to Chicago and eventually to Santa Ana, California. He went to Shattuck Military Academy in Minnesota, but eventually dropped out – after the school board tried to expel him and then his fellow students rallied to let him stay, of course. Eventually, he followed his sisters to New York to try his hand at acting, and came under the tutelage of Stella Adler, where he learned the Method. He officially made it onto Broadway in 1944, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Now, Brando maybe wasn't the first person to employ the so-called “Method”, but I think he's certainly one of the most famous examples of it. For those of you not familiar with it, basically the point of the Method is to bring yourself into the role you're supposed to play. The very first tenet is “don't act – behave.” So when Brando would get a role, he would very notoriously and sometimes contentiously rewrite entire pages of dialogue. In On The Waterfront, he's almost entirely responsible for the “contender” speech that the movie is famous for. You know, he added his own touches to every role he got – he was very well-versed in makeup and costuming, and had a direct hand in Stanley's look in Streetcar, working closely with the costume director to make the look of a working-class good ol' boy perfect. I think that's part of why his appeal is so widespread, honestly. Every time Brando was on screen or on the stage, it feels like he's bringing a little more of himself to light, bringing a little more of his personality to the forefront, so people feel like they know him – even when they had no idea who he was behind the mask of his characters. I really think this is when the general public started to maybe feel more like they knew their favorite actors, to sort of blur the lines between the character and the person.
I think Marlon Brando holds such a place in the hearts and minds of film fans for a lot of reasons. You know, it doesn't matter what people talk about – all the bad jokes about him letting himself go in his later years, to the stories about how difficult he was on-set, to some of the shitty things my new arch-nemesis David Thomson said about people who employed method acting – the fact remains that Brando became a legend. My friends and I have a way of judging the character of celebrities that I think is a pretty good tool to use: Have they, at any point, stuck up for minorities – be it the queer community, people of color, immigrants, Native people, you know, any marginalized group – not when it was convenient for them, but when it was actually a detriment to their career? You know, good deeds done for attention or notoriety aren't truly good deeds. Dolly Parton comes to mind – she's come out in favor of the LGBTQ community over and over, despite her conservative fan base getting in a snit about it. I'm also thinking of Liz Taylor, who used to open up her home to people in LA who were going through treatment for AIDS and HIV and had nowhere else to go and kept it as quiet as possible. And, of course, I'm thinking about Marlon Brando sending Sacheen Little Feather up to collect his award as an act of protest on behalf of the treatment of Native Americans in the film industry and by the American government. It was a publicity stunt, yeah, sure. But the thing that you won't hear about is that Brando had been getting arrested at protests demanding Native people be given their rights and their land for years. He once got arrested at a fish-in along with a group of Native people, and when the police wouldn't release the others when they released him, he went right back to the protest and got arrested again. I mean, he was one of a very scant handful of white people that were allowed to speak at Black Panther events.
So, you know, it's really interesting to me that people tried to say that Brando only used declining his Oscar as a stunt to get notoriety, when really he was using it as a last resort to call attention to an issue he had passionate about his entire life. And Brando really was a man of passion. I don't think there's a single thing he did half-assed. When he died, he left behind a massive library filled with books that he had written in the margins of, and crates of screenplays that he had edited and added his own dialogue to. The very first play he was in was about the Zionist cause in Israel, and he toured to raise money for the new country and to bring attention to what had happened during the Holocaust. You know, this is a really early example of Brando using his work as a platform to raise consciousness about social issues. He did a movie called The Young Lions with post-accident Montgomery Clift where he played a Nazi officer, because he wanted people to see it and realize that the people of Germany during World War Two were just ordinary citizens. He wanted people to understand the social impact here – could they, with one charismatic leader and some political propaganda, also be persuaded to lose their humanity and become monstrous? I think that movie is incredibly important, especially in today's political climate.
Brando was a fascinating and complex person. I learned most of this information from a book called Brando's Smile by Susan Mizruchi. I liked the book quite a bit, but I took a few issues with it. She mentions that Brando was a victim of “sexism” because people saw his pretty face and assumed that he was an idiot, and I think she meant to say “objectification”. She also refers to Native Americans throughout the book as “American Indians”, which I disagree with for obvious reasons. Brando, throughout his life, referred to Native Americans incorrectly, in his writings and in his impassioned pleas for justice on their behalf. I think, you know, maybe Mizruchi was just referring to Native Americans the way that Brando did for the sake of clarity and continuity, but I mean, in that case, why not just make a note of it or make mention of it elsewhere? Why not just, you know, say, “Oh, you know, Marlon Brando referred to Native Americans like this but I want to point out that it's not the respectful way to refer to them today and I'm not going to refer to them as anything but Native Americans, don't be confused.” But, you know, whatever. That's just my opinion.
The Mizruchi book also mentions briefly that Brando met James Dean once. Only once. Way back in my very first episode, I mentioned reading this. Mizruchi says Brando met with Dean and they had a conversation, and then when Dean died, Brando said it was such a shame because the boy had real talent. I've since found a few photos of Brando and Dean hanging around with each other that basically proves that, at least in this instance, Mizruchi is mistaken. There's a lot of speculation about who Brando went to bed with, with fingers pointed at Dean, Cary Grant, Montgomery Clift and John Gielgud as rumored lovers. The thing is that Brando openly admitted in a 1976 interview for his biography The Only Contender that he had some kind of homosexual experiences. He goes so far as say that he wasn't ashamed of it, and he thought it was funny that people thought he and Jack Nicholson were having an affair.
You heard it here, folks: Brando himself confirmed that he was queer. I mean, he had a lot of wives and a lot of lovers and a lot of kids – and I say again that he's a very passionate man. He's someone that really looked at life and was like “I'm going to make the absolute most of my time on this rock or die trying.” I'm saying definitively that Brando was one of us: queer as a three dollar bill. The issue that comes up with him isn't whether or not he was queer, but who he hooked up with. A lot of this information seems like it's … well. I hate to call anything false, but I will say that it sounds incredibly bloated beyond the scope of what the truth might have been. Despite the rumor that Brando had a weekend fling with Cary Grant, Grant is quoted as saying: “I have no rapport with the new idols of the screen, and that includes Marlon Brando and his style of Method acting. It certainly includes Montgomery Clift and that God-awful James Dean. Some producer should cast them all in the same movie and let them duke it out. When they've finished each other off, James Stewart, Spencer Tracy and I will return and start making real movies again like we used to.” Ouch, Archie. Ouch. Now, Cary Grant getting nasty with someone he was supposed to have had a relationship with doesn't surprise me – he was pretty terrible to Orry Kelly after their split, but this goes way beyond what we would normally see out of him. Ironically, he calls out the three people this and the next two episodes are dedicated to, and talks about two more people that were also rumored to be gay or bisexual. C'est la vie.
I'll talk a little more about the relationship that Brando supposedly had with James Dean in our next episode, but now that I've confirmed that Brando was queer, I wanted to talk a little bit about how he was instrumental in the reshaping of Hollywood masculinity. So, if we think about the kinds of roles that Brando played when he was younger – and I'm thinking specifically of Terry Malloy in On The Waterfront and Stanley Kowalski in Streetcar – he's playing these men that are vulnerable and moody. They're very much overgrown children. James Dean and Monty Clift played similar roles in their films – they're these sort of sheepish, complicated characters with a lot of emotion and nowhere to put it. They were lovers, but they weren't lovers like Clark Gable or Errol Flynn. They were on the fringes of society but not like Jimmy Cagney or Humphrey Bogart. Brando, Dean and Clift were part of this new wave of actors that came from the Midwest, betting all their hopes and dreams on being in the movies – but acting like they were too cool to care about whether or not they were famous. They played small town boys with big dreams, and they notoriously toyed with the press. Their sexuality was speculated on and about, and their appeal really was without limits.
If you think it sounds like I could be describing actors like James Franco, Ryan Gosling, Tom Hardy – or even, if we go back to before he was was a bloated abuser ruining my childhood in Harry Potter movies, Johnny Depp – then you're right. You know, I'm not James Franco's biggest fan – I had a friend back in New Haven who worked with some of the Yale Repertory dancers, and a few of them got to know him when he was attending Yale back in the aughts, and none of the stories I heard really endeared him to me – but I think, to me, he's just a weird harmless stoner who's trying really hard to cash in on being a weird harmless stoner for as long as he can. And, I'm not going to say the man can't act. But you can pretty much draw a straight line from Franco's pretentious comments about his art to the way that Brando used to torment interviewers. Gosling got turned into the “Hey, Girl” meme, and Tom Hardy's been dodging questions about his sexual history for as long as I've known who Tom Hardy is. I mean, Brando was quoted once as saying that he didn't think of being an actor as art or anything – he looked at it like a job. If that quote sounds familiar, it's because Ryan Gosling said almost the exact same thing a few years ago.
I'll be straight with you: when I read the article that compared Brando, Dean, and Clift's vulnerable masculinity to the likes of people like James Franco and Christian Bale, I almost threw up in my mouth, and I think it's because I look at contemporary actors like that, and I think to myself, “Christ, you know those guys get high off the smell of their own farts.” They just seem pretentious to me. And maybe one day I'll meet James Franco and we'll smoke a blunt together and he'll prove me wrong, but I also don't think I could look him in the eye knowing that he has to watch his own movies before he hooks up with someone. I digress. You know, I think it upset me at the gut level because of that, but when I posted up the article to my Facebook, my glorious friend Ricci pointed out that it seems kind of stupid to him that Clift and Dean have been dead for at least fifty years and Marlon Brando wasn't playing the moody, sensitive young man for at least as long, but we're still expected to trip over our own feet because Tom Hardy might have touched a dick once and James Franco sneers at the work that's provided him with millions of dollars and the kind of artistic freedom to openly mock a communist dictator. My buddy Ricci went on to say that these parallels didn't address the toxic parts of this “new” masculinity, and that it only allowed for certain emotions in certain spaces, made or expressed by certain kinds of men. This “Brando” masculinity really doesn't account for men of color, trans men, queer men. It's great that Brando got the ball rolling, right? But it seems like it's totally anachronistic and a little absurd that contemporary actors are still trying to hang onto that Streetcar, Rebel Without A Cause, From Here to Eternity nihilism in a leather jacket.  Yes, I think it's important that the ball got rolling, and fuck yes, I think Brando, Dean and Clift are important actors in the 20th century. But do I think it's necessarily healthy that there are still people basing their entire persona on them? No. It's performative masculinity at its peak, and performative masculinity – even the non-violent kind – is still toxic.
It's really important, I think, to look back at the characters in the films I mentioned – all played by method actors – and kind of inspect their character traits. Stanley Kowalski used sexual violence as a means to an end. Jim Stark ended up surrounded by dead bodies because of an innate desire to conform and also impress. Robert Prewitt ended up dead after an almost compulsive desire to prove himself turned fatal. And even the actors themselves are cautionary tales. Brando was the only one of the three who lived well into old age, as Dean died in that car wreck and Clift died from heart failure after a lifetime of alcohol and drug abuse. Maybe back in the day, these expressions of alternate masculinity were actually directly going against the grain and they were almost revolutionary. But today, the same kinds of shows of bravado and swagger are just tired. And maybe that's not James Franco's fault, you know? Maybe that's society and the media still expecting so little from famous men that they think masculinity stopped evolving when Marlon Brando moved away from playing moody young men and into more austere dramatic roles. But that's not really fair – nor is it realistic. Maybe if we expected more from contemporary actors than being flip about their sexuality and being self-deprecating about their careers, then we could start to move on from the “Brando effect” and onto something more constructive and beneficial for the world at large. James Franco, please sponsor my podcast.
Thank you for listening to Tuck In, We're Rolling: Queer Hollywood Stories. This episode was written, recorded, edited, and researched by me, Jack Segreto. Special thanks this week to Nessa for editing my script Ricci for adding invaluable commentary to the discourse. You can find a transcript of this episode and all our episodes, along with movie and book recommendations, fun facts and photos on our tumblr, tuckinpodcast.tumblr.com. You can also give us a like on Facebook at facebook.com/tuckinpodcast. We accept messages on both of those platforms, so please feel free to shoot us any suggestions for show topics and comments you might have. We put out new episodes every Wednesday, and you can listen to us on SoundCloud, iTunes and Google Play, so don't forget to rate and subscribe to us! We'll be back next week with an episode about James Dean and the power of legacy. See you next time!
SOURCES:
Brando’s Smile, Susan L. Mizruchi (2014)
The Brando Effect
Hollywood Stars’ Meanest Remarks
Marlon Brando’s Homosexual Celebrity Affairs Revealed (this fucing title you guys)
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mayoperry-blog · 7 years
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Six Unsent Letters
This is a project I did for an English 3 class in sophomore year. After reading “Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992″ by Anne Deavere Smith, I responded to the written play in a series of letters that I wish I could send to the characters in the play or to the world. 
Dear Latasha, You were too young. Just like that, your life were cut short by Soon Ja Du with to a single bullet. Du was found guilty of voluntary manslaughter, which has a maximum sentence of 16 years in prison. That’s some consolation, right? The judge gave Du probation, 400 hours of community service and a $500 dollar fine. Apparently your life is worth 16 days of community service and a couple hundred dollars. This horrific injustice did not go unnoticed. Your murder, along with Rodney King’s beating sparked outrage in Los Angeles that eventually turned into riots in 1992. You are not forgotten. I’m assuming you like Harry Potter, because you were 15 and what teenager doesn’t like Harry Potter, or at least heard of him? One of my favorite moments comes in the last book, when Harry is speaking to his parents and those who have guided him, and given their lives for him. “‘Dying? Not at all,’ said Sirius. ‘Quicker and easier than falling asleep’ ”. I hope this is how it was for you. I know that your family tries to take comfort in the fact that you did not suffer, nor did you have a single moment to feel the pain caused by that woman. No one has forgotten you, even now. Even after all these years, you are still as relevant as ever. On the 25th anniversary of your death, your family and community gathered where you died. They held candles and exchanged memories of your life cut short. The late rapper 2Pac referenced you in his posthumous 2002 hit, “Thugz Mansion”. Shakur raps, “Little LaTasha sho' grown/Tell the lady in the liquor store that she's forgiven, so come home”. The song talks about how he would rest in peace and find happiness when he is in a place where all the troubles and pains of his life come to an end. 2Pac also dropped names of African American icons, including Marvin Gaye, Billie Holiday, Sam Cooke, and Malcolm X. You are referenced among those who made an impact on the world and the African American community, because you’ve done exactly that. You have not been forgotten, and you have pushed your people to begin the contemporary fight for equality and justice in the eyes of the government. Latasha, you have done more for your people than you will ever know, and I hope that you, wherever you are, can realize that. You have not, and will never be forgotten.
Rest In Paradise Latasha. Sincerely,
Perry Mayo
Dear Mr. King, You are a legend. After your infamous beating from the LAPD, you became the face of your people. They fought, and are still fighting, in your name among others for justice. Your excessive beating stemmed from a high speed chase that ended with you on the ground. Although only two of the four attacking police officers were indicted for your attack, it lit the fuse on a deadly civil bomb. On May 1, 1992, you came forward with a plea for peace. You requested, "People, I just want to say, can we all get along? Can we get along? Can we stop making it horrible for the older people and the kids?" You are exactly correct. There’s nothing standing in the way of justice except insane bigotry, ground­breaking excuses, and white privilege that goes back for generations. You were not the first to experience unfair treatment from those who believe themselves to be better than you, and you won’t be the last. There were the jews, the Hispanics, the African Americans, and people of color in general. Now, a new group that just has to be oppressed, the LGBTQ+ community, with a special bright red target on those who identify as transgender. Your bravery and resilience empowered those who were too afraid to stand up to their oppressors, and has inspired the silent to voice their opinions. You know what I find almost laughable? The blatant double standard for blacks versus the whites. You’ve experienced this first hand, and you won’t be the last person to do so. You were caught in a high speed chase, and then beat within minutes of death, while in 2012, Dylann Roof was captured by the police after killing nine African Americans in a church in Charleston, North Carolina. You were nearly killed for driving 110 miles per hour, while Roof was taken into custody and given a bulletproof vest during transportation. Why protect the life of a homicidal maniac, while endangering that of a speedy driver? Thank you for your fighting spirit. I’m glad that your people have such a strong sense of unity and fight, because your uphill battle for justice is long from over. History will inevitably repeat itself, but I know that you are ready for the fight, and you will overcome whatever obstacles are thrown in your path. I can only hope that you are proud of yourself for sparking this revolution, and that you realize how many doors you opened for your people. Rest in peace, Rodney.
Sincerely, Perry Mayo
Dear Miss Rae, or Queen Malkah, Author Ralph Ellison wrote that as an African American “I am invisible... simply because people refuse to see me...When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination—indeed everything and anything except me.” You can relate and absolutely agree, I’m sure. After the murder of Latasha Harlins, you spoke out about the unity of the African Americans, and your opinion on Charles Lloyd, a well­known black attorney, and how he represented and defended Soon Ja Du, who had killed one of his fellow African Americans. You’re right. He sold his card. He’s a sellout, trading in the pride of his ethnicity and the history for a fat paycheck. He doesn’t deserve to stand by you, if you thought for one second that he was a loss, you are sorely mistaken. He is as useless as a bicycle to a fish in my eyes. It’s people like you who will keep the fight alive, and keep spirits high. You value unity and standing together, especially in times of oppression and opposition. You recognize the disparity of justice between the African Americans, or people of color for that matter, and the white community. Not only do you recognize it, you speak out against it, something many would not do in the 1990s. You see beyond the fake promises of the Pledge of Allegiance for God’s sake. Liberty and justice for all, as long as you’re white, cisgendered, and heterosexual. What a great country we live in. You told Anna Deavere Smith, “if­the­white­media­does­not­decide­to­print­something­that­happens­to­us,­we­won’t­know/ ... Because justice denied Latasha Harlins/Is justice denied every American citizen.” Once again, your majesty, you’ve hit the nail right on it’s pretty little head. Skin tone doesn’t determine what someone deserves, in any circumstance. As soon as people see things from your point of view, the world will be infinitely better. You’d be proud, I think. With all of the movements that have sprung from your injustice, from chanting “Hands up, don’t shoot”, to staging “die­ins” based on the times that the victims cried for help or lay slain on the sidewalk, I’d imagine that you’re pretty proud. You’ve always been aware of the fact that based on the amount of melanin in your skin, you will have higher, harsher, and millions more hurdles than any of us out here, any of us trying to get by. But you, my dear, have navigated those roadblocks with ease and the grace of a golden pheasant. Your people need someone like you.
Here are my instructions for you, Queen Malkah: When times get tough, and big, bad history rears it’s head and tries to trample you and your spirits, you be there to lead your people. You hold your head high, raise your sword to the sky, unleash a battle cry more chilling than death itself, and run. Sprint headfirst into injustice, slashing anything in your way and reduce it to a dust. You charge, and you fight, and fight, and fight until you can’t fight anymore. Even then, you push through, until you’ve made it to the other side with your people close behind. Once you are in the beautiful forest clearing with your warriors surrounding you, only then, can you relax and celebrate your victory as equals of those who have pushed you down. But until then, rally your troops, and continue your battle for equality. We’ll be behind you, waiting for your cues. Thank you, your highness, I applaud you for your bravery.
Sincerely, Perry Mayo, a willing warrior at your service.
Mr. Zimmerman, I will not start this letter with “dear”, because that word implies adoration. You murdered an innocent man. It doesn’t matter if Trayvon Martin seemed “suspicious”. You were told, by the authorities, to star in your SUV and to not approach the teenager. Even if it was self defense, you went against the orders of police and instigated a fight with Trayvon, which ended with the teenager dead in the street. That’s not the worst part, I believe. In my eyes, the most sadistic part of the situation came after you murdered a 17­year­old boy. You put the gun used to kill Trayvon online, and tried to auction it off. Bidding in an online auction for the gun reached $65 million at one point as people on the Internet drove the offers to astronomic levels. Many of those were sarcastic, George, I can assure you that. A top bidder whose account has been since deleted, at one point used the name “Racist McShootface”. Another bidder competed for the weapon under the name Tamir Rice, another victim of police brutality. Tamir was killed by police while carrying a toy gun. He was 12. I just want to make it known that people are against you. I also hope that you know that by murdering Trayvon, you added about a thousand gallons of fuel to the fire that is propelling the black community. So, in a dark, twisted sense of the phrase, thank you, George. Thank you for showing adults that they can’t trust the police or neighborhood watch to keep their community safe or their children alive. Thank you for teaching teenagers that they should stay clear of the police instead of going to them for help. Thank you for teaching kids that the police are more dangerous than criminals themselves, and that you won’t protect them, you’ll kill them. Thank you for giving the next generation and the generations to come a precautionary tale about what happens when white privilege is added to racism, and multiplied by an accessible deadly weapon. So thank you, again really, thank you George, for opening our eyes to more horrors, and teaching us that monsters aren’t just in closets or under beds, on wanted posters or in jail. They’re on our streets, wearing government uniforms, and are trusted with the responsibility protecting the community. Thank you, George Zimmerman, for pushing the black community to fight that much harder for themselves, against people like you.
Sincerely, Perry Mayo
Dear Mr. Garner, You did not die in vain. After being choked to death for selling loose cigarettes, you became one of the faces that headed the “Black Lives Matter” movement. Your plea for help. “I can’t breathe!”, is being used as a battle cry for those fighting for justice. It’s not just in your city, or just those who know you. For two days in a row, a group of white collar professionals staged “die­ins” in support of calls for increased police accountability following the deaths of unarmed black men. Also, dozens African American men gathered on the front steps of the courthouse in downtown L.A. and held a silent vigil for those who have died in police confrontations. At about the same time in Oakland, protesters chained themselves to the city Police Department's headquarters. You helped fuel a movement that is sweeping this nation. Don’t you ever doubt for a second that you died for nothing. Something I find sick is that media has tried to humanize your killer. Daniel Pantaleo, the NYPD officer who choked you, has received so many death threats that a police detail guards his Staten Island home around the clock. People want to avenge you. The media has tried to cover up the crime of Pantaleo, by telling us about his childhood, his achievements, his innocence. They tell us about his teachers glowing comments, and that he received awards as an honorable Eagle Scout. We see past that. We know that the media is whitewashing your death, and making it seem like you asked for it. They say, “well, he was a threat who needed to be subdued”. It’s all bullshit. We know, and we are fighting for others to join us. Your untimely death has helped millions realize the type of false reality that we live in, and you’ve opened people’s eyes to the fact that the police aren’t always the good guys, and that black men aren’t always the bad guys. You’ve given people another reason to fight, and one more name to drop when the topic of injustice is breached. With three words, you’ve dumped gallons of butane on the roaring wildfire of black rage, and for good reason. “I can’t breathe”, and the entire black community is suffocating. You’ve given everyone, black or not, stranger or family member, one more thing to fight for. You should be proud of yourself, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Just know that you’ve done well by yourself and your community. I hope that you can finally breathe. Rest In Paradise, Eric.
Sincerely, Perry Mayo
Dear World That I Live In, These past two years, I’ve had my eyes opened to the world around me, and the world within myself. I have not yet fully come to consciousness, for that takes hundreds of years. I personally believe that no one has ever completely come to consciousness. What even is consciousness in the first place? Who am I to determine when or how one has their eyes opened to everything and anything, to the core of what holds our thoughts together, and what keeps us from literally going insane? I’ll tell you what consciousness is. Consciousness is everything and nothing. It is the balance between finding co­dependence and self love. It is realizing why we’re here and what we’re doing, while also not questioning why or how or what, and just being. You don’t need answers.
Consciousness is. How do we come to consciousness? How does one begin to become aware, while remaining in their personal matrix? We don’t. Here’s the only thing that we can do. Fall back into your beingness, let it catch you, and you are at home. There is nothing to do, nothing to change, nothing to fix. Just be. History repeats itself. The same ideas circle around every hundred years, and every hundred years, those same ideas drag the human race to the lowest of low,, to the depths of rock bottom. We sit, and wallow, and fight, until finally, one or two sensible people realize what humans have done to each other, and they pull us back up to a point where we can once again be proud of ourselves. When any given group oppresses another, the oppressed will soon enough turn around and take down another group. The vicious cycle has killed billions and will continue to kill until the world is reduced to a devastatingly singular and lonely person who has no one left, for everyone else was killed by the cyclical hate. One will remain, after the rest of the world has committed global suicide.
You, my dear, are sailing on the widespread and glistening wings of pure imagination if you think, for a single second, that the human race can go forth without destroying itself through a made up hierarchy based on one’s skin tone or who they fall in love with, how much they earn or what lies between their legs.
Here’s my two cents, coming from a teenager who’s seen more than they need to see to make a decision. I call my theory “The Fiji Complex”. I’ve been to Fiji twice, and I came to one
of the biggest realizations of my life during my second trip. I experienced an epiphany, if you will. I realized that the community had a completely different outlook on life, one that seems foreign and possibly laughable to anyone else. The way that Fiji operates is simple, with every citizen living their lives almost identically to their neighbors, whether they realized it or not. They put others before themselves. This is how I see it. Whoever it is, their needs, preferences, assurances or fears come before yours. When you are with someone else, they are top of mind.
Now, it may seem stupid and unrealistic, but it’s not. By putting someone before yourself, you don’t have to ignore your needs, you don’t have to sacrifice yourself for them to live. It’s not, and will never be, a win­lose situation. It’s a mindset. The way that they operate on the islands resonates with me, because it’s one of the most simple theories I’ve ever come across. When you help someone, they’ll turn around and help you. That’s what it comes down to. If you go out of your way to make someone comfortable, sooner than later, they’ll return the favor when you’re in need. If you put ten people before yourself, when the time comes, and you need help, there are ten people on hand who will be at your side at the drop of a hat, simply because you were there for them however long ago. It’s stupidly simple. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. In Fiji, there was no moral hierarchy. People were classified by clan and bloodline, income and gender, but inside, everyone was the same. No one was better or worse, morally or in terms of their mindset. They all had the same core value: the comfort of others. Whoever you are, foreigner, local, man, woman, child, gay, straight, whatever. If you are there, they will make you comfortable, and you will inevitably return the favor.
Now, you may not think, “because they helped me, I have to help them”. As a matter of fact, that thought won’t ever cross your mind. Something from inside will spark, and you will want to help. You’ll long for the feeling of being able to help someone, purely because you want to and you know it’s the right thing to do. With their comfort, yours will come. If you touch 100 people, just by doing small things like opening a door for them, giving up your seat, or even greeting them and acknowledging their existence, you have made 100 allies. You will have 100 people who will stand behind you and push you forward, and 100 people who will be ready to catch you if you fall, and help you back to the place you were at before you fell. Now, imagine if you did this with every person you met, every person you’ve interacted with. When the time
comes, you will have an army bigger than the Romans, stronger than the Spartans, all fighting for you. We need to remember who we really are. There is one earth but a million worlds, and no world is more important than another.
Behind race, income, orientation, gender, we are all humans. We all live together, and we’re all going to end up six feet under sooner or later. There’s not a single reason as to why you wouldn’t help someone. Social norms be damned. I can assure you, with 100% confidence, that helping that man on the street carry his bag is a million times more important than making your subway ride. I can say, without a doubt in my mind, that stepping in front of a child harassing another kid is a billion times more noble and touching than donating a fat check to a charity. The Fiji Complex takes everyone’s fears and social biases, innate or taught discriminations, and throws them out the window. Nothing is more important than a human life, and the value of the person, no matter who they are. A “lowly” beggar is worth just as much as a king adorned in jewels. Both have a heartbeat, a brain, and a conscious. Those are all the similarities you need to treat someone well and with respect.
Once people realize this, everything will be fine. Once people decide that your neighbor is more important than yourself, even just for a second, the world will be one step closer to living in peace, without fear of obliterating the human race. Police will be heroes again, black people will just be people, wars will be a thing of the past. Now, I can’t say how long this will take. Thousands of years. Maybe millions. We may even kill ourselves with pollution before this idea fully circulates the globe, but as long as people begin to realize what they’re doing, progress will be made. As long as two people have their eyes opened to reality, and what we can do as a human race to turn it around, I will feel satisfied. As long as one kid becomes aware of himself and those around him, I’ve done my job. But, until then, we won’t stop fighting. Queen Malkah, myself, and any other person who sees how pure this world can become will continue to preach and spread our message until the day we die. I hope that this idea of a united world isn’t just a dream.
For the last time, Sincerely,
Perry Mayo
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