Whatever Doesn't Kill Me

Exactly one year ago today I was being rushed to the emergency room with severe pain in my chest and down my left arm. I was coming off an extreme case of pneumonia, and the night before I’d had a fever just under 103. Somehow I felt the pain in my chest was related to the pneumonia, even though I didn’t know how. At the same time the pain was so bad—unlike anything I had ever felt—that I figured it was best to go to the hospital (even though I had no insurance). At the hospital the doctors ran some tests, and told me I’d had a heart attack. I was in denial, in part because less than two years earlier I’d had a heart stress test that came back perfect, but also because I couldn’t afford an extended stay in the hospital.

After several days in the hospital, and some very expensive tests, it was determined that I didn’t have a heart attack, but myocarditis, an inflammation of the heart muscle brought about by an infection from the pneumonia. I felt relieved that I hadn’t suffered a heart attack—and was even dismissive when one doctor had told me I was lucky to be alive. As far as I was concerned, it was only myocarditis, and not anything to really worry about. But the truth of the matter is that myocarditis is a lot like having a heart attack. As the website Medicine Net describes it, “Patients who have had myocarditis are at some risk for sudden unexpected, potentially fatal, heart rhythm abnormalities.” In other words, myocarditis can kill you just like a heart attack can kill you. And had I waited much longer to go to the hospital, there’s a chance mine could’ve killed me.

Doing It Yourself (a.k.a. A Call to Creative Action; a.k.a. Sh!t or Get Off the Pot)

A little over 15 years ago I unwittingly embarked on a journey that would forever shape who I am. For those of you who have been following my work for any length of time, you’ve probably heard this story—or at least bits and pieces—so I’ll try not to be too boring in recounting it for those who don’t know all the details. The story really starts in 1994, when I decided to make a documentary about blaxploitation. I had spent the better part of ‘94 and ’95 doing research for the documentary, which included watching tons of movies. After a while, I’d seen so many movies that I started getting confused. I couldn’t remember which Pam Grier movie had better nudity, Foxy Brown or Coffy. I knew Speeding Up Time was one of the worst movies I’d ever seen, but kept getting plot details confused with Nigger Lover, which was almost as bad, and The Bus Is Coming, which was terrible and boring, but in completely different ways from the other two. There were so many details to so many movies, and I needed to keep track of so much stuff, that I decided to start taking notes.

Afrocentricity vs. Ghettocentricity (a.k.a. In Response to 'Boycott Black People')

I recently watched a video on Youtube entitled Boycott Black People that had been posted by a young black man deriding other black people. Many of the people I know who watched the video disagreed with this guy, but to be honest, he was spot-on with about 85% of what he had to say. The problem was how he was saying it—his message was not all that well articulated, and he seemed to be struggling with the larger point he was trying to get across. Here is a link to the video, which you should seriously consider watching before reading any further.

Thoughts From a Fatherless Son

The most difficult part of growing up without a father was always Little League Baseball. I know that my dad played Little League, because everyone in the family told me, and I loved baseball when I was a kid. Looking back, I’m sure that I was trying to make some sort of connection with a man I had no memories of. But the problem with Little League was that I didn’t have a dad to come watch my games, or to play catch with me. The coaches would always tell us to practice at home with out fathers, because that was the best way to become a great ball player, and I would be crushed. There was no way I could become a great player, because I didn’t have a dad around. Yeah, my mom tried to practice with me, and she came to the games, as did my grandparents. But it wasn’t the same as having a dad to come to those games. And so, even though I played Little League Baseball for many years, trying in some way to have a relationship with my father, it was all a miserable failure. I’m sure a good therapist would say that my dislike of baseball springs from that childhood trauma.

In Support of President Obama (a.k.a. The Well-Done Negro)

After watching the video Not Disappointed by President Obama by Jake Lamar, I was motivated to write some of what has been long-developing in my mind. Despite some policies and actions that I have not agreed with, I still support President Obama. Lamar, who I have been a fan of for many years, succinctly drives home my feeling about Obama, and gives voice to much of what I think and feel. But at the same time, Lamar has not addressed one of the key issues surrounding Obama’s presidency that to me is obvious, but not exactly something people want to tackle. Some might argue that it is a topic best left for historians to address, though I would disagree. History is riddled with inaccuracies, and is often written purely to make the reader feel good. I, however, am not interested in making anyone feel good. Instead, I would much rather talk about what so many of us are thinking about, and perhaps discussing in small conversations amongst our close friends, but not coming out and actually saying.

What's Going On?

I realize that updates on this website have been few and far between as of late, and I apologize. Things have been a bit hectic at MoFo Central as of late, and I’ve been bogged down with a variety of projects. There will be more updates soon. In the meantime, if you haven’t checked out my novel yet, now is a great time. You can read the first 25 chapters of Darius Logan: Super Justice Force for FREE by clicking this link.

Wordstock 2011

It’s my pleasure to let you all know that I will be appearing this year at Wordstock. Wordstock is a literary art and education organization that celebrates and supports writing in the classroom and in the community. I’m tentatively scheduled to read on Saturday, October 8th at 3pm, followed by a signing. I’ll keep everyone updated if there are any changes. In the meantime, check out my guest blog on the Wordstock website.

Freedom, Slavery & the Things We Don’t Like to Talk About

With celebrations of Independence Day raging all across the country this weekend, I though it might be a good time to talk about what it means to be free in a country that pounds its chest and roars of freedom like it was King Kong. Don’t get me wrong, because what I’m about to write is not some anti-American screed about how little freedom we all have. I believe, that despite existing limitations to our freedom—not to mention limitations some would like to manifest into reality—I do believe that we enjoy unprecedented levels of freedom. At the same time, many people don’t really understand the history of this nation, especially when it comes to the complex ideologies of race and racism or the true dehumanizing nature of slavery, which is a wound of shame on this nation that has yet to heal.

Trying to Be a Cartoonist, Part 2

Trying to Be a Cartoonist

As some of you may know, I once had aspirations of being a cartoonist. Going through some old stuff, I stumbled across some of my old art, and I figured I’d share it with you all.