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We stood in front of a shelf marked 1953. A gap sat in the middle of otherwise tightly packed volumes. He began stroking the dust from the empty space. Again, it felt as if he were stroking my skin. This … Continue reading
Tag Archives: black
During the Prop. 8 campaign four years ago, I received a mailer from the Yes on 8 folks which featured black religious figures on one side and then-presidential candidate Barack Obama on the other. It contained quotes like these: “Marriage … Continue reading
Light, airy, and meticulously clean, attributes that well describe Mr. Horton’s apartment. His closet embodied the exact opposite. As we entered, he reached up and pulled a cord. A single bulb, brown with dust, hung on a thick wooly wire. … Continue reading
“Listen, why are you here?” Startled, I looked up from my notepad. “The lifetime achievement award, Mr. Horton. My magazine wanted an interview.” “No! Why did they send you?” I had no immediate response. “You’re awfully young, you know that? … Continue reading
Grease splattering, water boiling, pots and pans clanking, bodies moving and shuffling, and layered above it all were the voices of the too many chefs against a backdrop of old school blues moaning its heart out. Crissy got annoyed. She … Continue reading
It’s depressing that queer storytelling is still regarded as something rare, unique, or extraordinary. Even in an age where queer characters populate more films and TV shows, the voices from these characters are usually just a footnote rather then the … Continue reading
Young black kids are killing and dying in the streets. Gun fire echoes on quiet nights, on busy streets, in daylight — bodies fall to the ground. Killers stand over the fallen triumphantly and pump in more and more. Then … Continue reading
This week Live Science published the article 6 Civil War Myths, Busted in time for the 150th anniversary of the start of the bloody battle. The first myth busted is that slavery had nothing to do with the Civil War. … Continue reading
{Editors Note: The dialog between Jameel and Alfonso was taken from my unpublished novel Sin Against the Race.} He knew Hegel. He knew Marx. He knew Lenin. He knew Trotsky. He knew Mao. He knew Ché. He knew Cleaver. He … Continue reading
This story could be called a love letter to the Duke Ellington Orchestra. I wrote it around the time I fell head over heels for all things Ellington and started listening to his music 23 out of 24 hours in … Continue reading