Best Posts in Forum: LGBT News and Events

  1. Nigerian Prince

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    See...while this did happen, I don't judge him for it because we've all been guilty of a lie at one point or another. I know I didn't get married, or have several kids or lead a girl on but I understand why he did it. I understand why he lied. I've been lying to my parents about my sexuality since they asked me after college why I don't have a serious girlfriend. I empathize with him. If you ever watched Miles (aka Siir Brock) on Sway In The Morning radio show, you will see the reactions he got from callers live on-air. It is stuff like that which keeps brothas from coming out. All the ridicule, all the hate, all the backlash... If people (especially in the black community) could learn to stop being homophobic, people would not be so scared to come out and be themselves. That's just the truth.

    It is unfortunate that his stuff was publicized to the world but you see why he did it. At least he owned up to his lies. Many men out there are still getting married, having many children or leading women on...
     
  2. ControlledXaos

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    Someone said he looked like they guy from Bleach.
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    I wish there were more masculine Black gay out men in entertainment to show some variety of what we are.

    Queer leaning men are winning the representation game. Can't get mad at them for not giving a shit.
     
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  3. NewAfrikan

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    He let's her stay with him. Then she outs him. People are truly trash.
     
  4. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    LOL...come on dude. Whats wrong with this?

    Also a father in the home doesn't mean he will be "un-fem" if he is naturally this way.
     
  5. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    1st - Being captain obvious; I'm surprised the hormones has not changed dude's voice.

    2nd - to answer the question, "Are Black Trans Men Invisible?"; yes because they tend to be masculine leaning and we know how the LGBTQ community / culture feels about masculinity.
     
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  6. RolandG

    Bae Material Squad Leader The 1000 Daps Club Supporter

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    Not being mean spirited but if she were born a woman and looked the way she looks now, I doubt Ginuwine would be interested then. People don't like rejection much and I suppose because a person is transgender entitles them to not be rejected. SMH
     
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  7. Winston Smith

    Best Site Comments The 1000 Daps Club Supporter

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  8. SB3

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    It was clearly a slow news day for those commenters...
     
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  9. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    So all the videos I saw of Fem dudes fighting at ATL Black Pride; they were fighting because they were temporarily possesed by masculine gay demons? Nothing in this post about the glorification of "Reality Housewife" behavior or of hyper-femininity that many fem black gay men exude within their presentation of trying to be the baddest bitch who slays?

    Technology has advanced. Fights at Pride or any large event with alcohol is nothing new. Some valid points but gimma a break with this fuking BS.

    Once again self identifying feminists with an audience never critically examine the negatives or short comings of femininity or hold themselves accountable.
     
    #2 OckyDub, Sep 6, 2016
    Last edited: Sep 6, 2016
  10. Wegon

    Wegon Brklyn life

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    I've been reading this coverage and it's overwhelming. Especially the texts one victim sent his mother while he was hiding in the toilet stall. There are so many issues present here...radical religious extremism, homophobia, need for gun control, mental health services...it's enough to make a person feel hopeless that we'll ever get to a place where this couldn't happen at any time, anywhere.
     
  11. ControlledXaos

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    1. Whole Foods is not who you want to come for, especially regarding diversify.

    2. "Gee, thanks." as now people will use this as a way to say gays are "the devil."

    He has lost all credibility. What is wrong with this dude?
     
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  12. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    Not saying I disagree with their POV (they make some of same points I have numerous times) but based on image, how are they not portraying the typical Black Gay feminine stereotypes?
     
  13. Nick Delmacy

    Nick Delmacy is a Verified MemberNick Delmacy Da Architect
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    Looking at this study reminds me of arguments from people in the government that the U.S. economy is actually BOOMING. They bring out charts and figures showing how the stock market is doing, how corporations are flourishing, how the unemployment rate is down....but when you talk to actual people, the feedback is not the same.

    What people will tell a survey taker is not always the same as what people do and say in reality, especially if it makes them appear to be a bigot or homophobic.

    And we also have to remember that just because a person is not out making "God Hates F*Gs" signs and protesting gay marriage, that doesn't mean that they are not the type to make homophobic comments in a barbershop, in a church or at the dinner table in front of their 15 year old gay son.
     
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  14. grownman

    The 100 Daps Club Supporter

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    I agree totally. I just don't know where to start. I still have my issues because of pasts hurts from men that I thought were my friends. I never really had a lot of friends because I/was am introverted. You may not be able to tell that now. I have gotten comfortable talking to you and everyone else on here. So, I can let loose a bit. Most of the few friends that I have are straight men and women.

    Anyway, I was talking to this older gentleman about 7 years ago-but not really interested in him. He lived about 5 hours away from me in a town called Gainesville. By this time I had made two gay friends at the church I was attending-go figure. Well, one of my "so called gay friends" felt that since I didn't want the dude-he did. Don't you know he drove his big ass up there (you see that venom spewing?) and slept with the dude. It's shit like that which has turned me off.

    I never felt like I fit in with any group. I don't club, watch reality shows, vogue, watch football(prefer basketball), beat my chest, deepen my voice(it's already deep)-all this stupidness. Just to be accepted? The devil is a liar! Lol. No, but seriously I will listen to old school Whitney at one moment. Next, 2 pac, Snoop & Dre. These days I am into more underground independent artists who are not commercially successful. India Arie, Jill Scott, Kem, Rachelle Farrell, Tracy Chapman(a lesbian singer) etc. How many black men-gay or straight would go and seem them in concert? You know what I mean? I want to go to park with my dude or "friends" and walk around talking about the latest sci-fi show that's out. Similar to the shit that goes on here.

    But, I like that you posted this- let's hope that it won't fall on deaf ears.

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    #2 grownman, Jan 11, 2016
    Last edited: Jan 12, 2016
  15. Cyrus-Brooks

    Cyrus-Brooks is a Featured MemberCyrus-Brooks The Black Vulcan
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    Rape and sexual assault is one of the things we(gay men) sweep under the carpet. I've had quite a few conversations with bruthas who were raped or subjected to attempted rape. That's why I always stay on my toes. To avoid being in situations like this I never accept open drinks from people, never get falling down drunk around people I don't know, never let myself be boxed into a room with someone I don't know alone at a party.
     
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  16. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    When I tell you the callers that were calling the Black radio station here in ATL today over this...my gawd. You would think gay folk was an alien invading army. Basically Gabrielle Union and Dwyane Wade took their 11 yr old gay son to the Miami Pride Parade...which is a precursor to God destroying the earth and apart of the agenda to emasculate Black men.

     
  17. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    Basically a kid was able to apologize and keep it moving. Unlike unfunny Kevin Hart.

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    Within hours of accepting the prestigious Heisman Trophy, Oklahoma Sooners quarterback Kyler Murray issued an apology after homophobic tweets he made as a teenager surfaced.

    The 21-year-old junior tweeted Sunday morning that his language “doesn’t reflect who I am or what I believe.”

    “I apologize for the tweets that have come to light tonight from when I was 14 and 15,” he tweeted. “I used a poor choice of word that doesn’t reflect who I am or what I believe. I did not intend to single out any individual or group.”

    The tweets from 2011 and 2012 repeatedly used the word “queer” in a derogatory manner. They were deleted by Saturday night, shortly after he was awarded the country’s top college football award for an individual player. He won the recognition after throwing more than 4,000 yards and 40 touchdowns this season, ESPN reported.

    In addition to being the second straight winner from the University of Oklahoma ― Baker Mayfield, the current quarterback for the Cleveland Browns, won the award last year ― he’s the seventh player to win the Heisman in Oklahoma’s history. This ties the Sooners with Notre Dame and Ohio State for the most winners by school.
     
  18. Jai

    Jai Being strong minded.
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    before heading to the real even in Nola. I wore a fitted black shirt, dark jeans and matching shoes....aka=Hot clothes, but it was cold inside.

    Screenshot_20180616-181711.png

    Welcome to a piece of La pride..it was hot and I was sweating super hard as I made my way to the enter. The humidity was serious as usual. I decided to go through another side.

    I made it just in time to pass a group of white men. One of these men came up to me and asked was I waiting on the people from the parade and I told him what parade?

    Don't know what made me say that to act stupid but I heard the gay march coming and I went up the stairs on the bridge to watch them and that's when I saw all the white men get up and took out their signs.. "Homosexuality is a sin". "All sinners deserve hell fire." They were protestors! Lol. I didn't even know it. Maybe because I wear a cross on my neck he thought I was with them..(eyeroll). Haha

    After waiting I went inside by myself to see stuff and got a crap ton of prize stuff and give aways from the tables.
    IMG_20180616_181253.jpg

    24 condoms including ICON condoms..never heard of them, a female condom (never knew what it was), sleevless pride shirt, water bottles, flags, pouches, a special type of Trojan lube you can use in the shower I got for free, notebooks, keychains and a necklace.

    I then wanted another cool shirt (the one in the pic) but I had to go get tested for that so I went and took an HIV test for the hell of it. I told them I don't have sex but I want a shirt and she started laughing. I absolutely hate needles though, but it was a quick prick.
    IMG_20180616_184214.jpg

    Had to wait 20 minutes for results and so I walked around and saw some things...
    IMG_20180616_170850.jpg

    I tried to shake these black guys hands that I met because of my lesbian friend has so many gay brothers, but they kept wanting to hug instead saying sweetie we don't shake hands, we hug and and one of them jokingly said, I touch booties too... I felt a hand on my butt and it was played for laughs. I was a little shocked but I played it for fun and didn't trip.

    I saw plenty of drag queens and I saw an actual transman in the flesh too. So I was looking and curious as ever.

    I thought it was kinda boring which is why we are going to Nola for the big fun. I'll update if possible. My phone is at 25% and I can't even find my charger...Prob Prob left it at home.

    Headed to Nola tonight.

    View attachment 7199
     
    #1 Jai, Jun 16, 2018
    Last edited: Jun 16, 2018
  19. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    [​IMG]

    After discussing the origins of LaBelle’s friendship with Luther, Cohen slipped in: “Did [Vandross] struggle with the idea of coming out publicly? Was that something that you talked about at all?”

    “We talked about it,” said LaBelle. “Basically, he did not want his mother to be...although she might have known, but he wasn’t going to come out and say this to the world. And he had a lot of lady fans and he told me he just didn’t want to upset the world.”

    Vandross was long rumored to be gay, though he never said as much—in interviews, he’d generally either roll with a line of questioning that assumed he was straight or refuse to answer direct questions about his sexuality. I’ve never heard someone so close to him effectively confirm it (Bruce Vilanch and Michael Musto discussed it not long after his 2005 death). If LaBelle’s assessment is correct, it’s unfortunate that Vandross declined to share who he was for the sake of his audience’s comfort, though given the state of queer acceptance back then, it’s not exactly surprising. Sounds like a hard life, though it didn’t impede Vandross’s art—perhaps it made it even more aching. I’m glad Patti LaBelle, though, filled in some details of Luther Vandross’s humanity. That’s what a good friend does.
     
  20. Nick Delmacy

    Nick Delmacy is a Verified MemberNick Delmacy Da Architect
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    By Jerris Madison on October 17th, 2017

    REMEMBERING MYCHAEL KNIGHT 1978 - 2017

    American Fashion Designer, and Project Runway alum, Mychael Knight has passed away. He was 39 years old. Mychael died at 7:25 am EST outside of Atlanta, GA on October 17, 2017, surrounded by his loving family and friends. His family asks that their privacy is respected during this time of grieving.


    The Knight Family has selected OBVIOUS as their media source during their grievance for any inquiries. We’ve set up an email on behalf of Mychael Knight’s family: mychaelknight@obviousmag.com. We will update you once more information is made available.

    Official Statement
    “We are still processing the untimely death of our son, brother, friend, and uncle. Mychael meant everything to us and we loved him dearly. He was generous and so full of life. This is how we choose to remember his legacy.” – The Knight Family

    I’m still in awe that I’ve created a post announcing his death. Mychael Knight was my friend, my brother, and a voice of reason everyone wants in their corner in the entertainment industry. He was passionate, outspoken, direct, kind, and unapologetic.

    I met Mychael in Philly almost 10 years ago. We both were booked to speak on a fashion panel for Radio One. We instantly clicked and became friends. He was a true Southern Gentleman and had no problems telling you that he was from the South. No matter what situation or industry event we attended, he always remained himself. I admired that about him. He loved his family so much and others, it reflected. He was a big Momma’s Boy, his mother was one of his best friends.

    When I lost my leg due to a rare form of bone cancer, Mychael helped me get my confidence back. I once complained how designers aren’t making clothes for people like me. Mychael’s immediate response was, “I got you! Give me a few days to sketch something for you.” I said okay cool. Later, I checked my email and there the sketches were. I cried. I saw the vision. That’s me, I said! What my friend did for me changed my attitude about how I looked and boosted my confidence beyond words.

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    When our schedules allowed us to hang out, we attend various red carpet and industry events together. He would come over to my apt and vice versa to break bread and discuss how we were going to take over LA (He made the best cocktails!!!). I remember the times when I would try to introduce my version of healthy food options to him and he would say, “I told you I have a taste for a burger Jerris… LOL!” That moment still cracks me up!

    Mychael, as I cry typing this, I’m so glad I gave you your flowers while you were here and grateful for the time you spent here. You taught me to continue to stand up for myself in this business. I’m grateful we never allowed egos to compete in our friendship.

    I scrolled through your Facebook page and saw the last quote you posted: “Life Tip: Do You.” I felt like you were speaking to me and everyone that you love. I will never forget you.

    I love you my brotha from anotha Mother. Until we see each other again.

    – Jerris :^)

    [​IMG]

    BIO

    “Sharp and Chic, with a touch Danger.” A well-deserved description of label’s elevated approach to contemporary sportswear. MYCHAEL KNIGHT first began autographing women with his signature take on fashion in the Spring of 2001. Acquiring his taste while living & traveling European as a youth and honing his aesthetic while being educated in the US, he seamlessly binds the urbanity and sensuality of the today’s women. Noting Gianni Versace as an artistic idol, cut and fit are the mainstay mantra of the brand. From day dresses to outerwear, each collection celebrates ultra femininity and elevated ease. Championing the ‘woman who’s every woman’, the brand always maintains it’s consideration for women who lead multi-faceted lifestyles. Bright color palettes, refreshing details, and quality, sophisticated structure continue to define the brand’s effortless take on dressing the modern women.

    Michael Anthony Knight, Jr. was born on April 11, 1978, in Nuremberg, Germany to Pamela and Michael Anthony Knight, Sr.

    Although Knight spent his childhood in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1996, he received his high school diploma from Washingtonville Senior High School in Washingtonville, New York. Later that same year, Knight began his freshman year of college at Georgia Southern University in Statesboro, Georgia. In 2001, this university awarded Knight a Bachelor of Science degree in Apparel Design and Merchandising.

    After completing his undergraduate studies, Knight broke into the fashion industry in Atlanta, Georgia by working as an intern at Wilbourn Exclusives in 2001 and then by becoming a Fashion Stylist in the music industry in 2002.

    In 2005, Knight auditioned for the second season of the Bravo network reality television series, Project Runway, but he was not accepted as a Season Two Contestant. In 2006, Knight reauditioned for Project Runway, and this time he was accepted as a contestant for season three. Knight went on to win season three’s Fan Favorite award and to place fourth in the overall competition.

    In 2007, Knight introduced his label, Mychael Knight, on BET’s Rip the Runway and he designed a line of custom tees for the Starbucks Corporation.

    In 2008, Knight launched Kitty & Dick, his female and male lingerie label, and his unisex fragrance, MajK.

    On August 20, 2009, the Project Runway: All-Star Challenge aired on Lifetime Television. Knight joined Daniel Vosovic and Santino Rice of season two, Jeffrey Sebelia and Uli Herzner of season three, Chris March and Sweet P of season four, and Korto Momolu of season five in a special, “one-shot” competition where the winner, Daniel Vosovic, received $100,000.

    On March 17, 2010, Mychael Knight debuted his Fall/Winter 2010 line at Charleston Fashion Week in Charleston, South Carolina.

    In 2013, Knight became a contestant on Project Runway: All Stars (season 3).

    Mychael Knight Memories
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  21. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    1. I can't believe I'm promoting a Buzzfeed video, because I can't stand their videos or website.
    2. The Asian dude with the fitted at the 1:min mark is further reason why my next dude will be Asian.
    3. Props for the fem dude speaking up and saying he wants to see more gay dudes on TV that don't all act like him.

     
  22. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    [​IMG]

    The Logo channel has a new dating / bachelor style show, Finding Prince Charming that features a main bachelor (Price Charming Robert Sepúlveda) and a number of suitors vying for the final spot on his arm. In reality TV land, this is cool…in real life, kinda pathetic and desperate to have a group of men competing for one dude. Nonetheless, this is show business so it gets a pass. What doesn’t get a pass; the ridiculous negative stereotypes that this show promotes and the damaging messages that are reinforced about homosexual men.



    Observation
    For the last couple of years, the queer feminist pc all-inclusive online spaces are over saturated with blogs, vlogs, articles and essays (both on and off mainstream websites) of gays protesting the “No Fats, Fems, Blacks, Asians” dating app mantra. Yet on a cable channel that caters to this same group, we have a dating show that has no fats or Asians…and may I add no one over the age of 35.


    Why this is a Problem?
    It’s hypocritical and detracts from the already questionable credibility that many have with the LGBTQ community concerning conversations around certain types of supposed “shaming” and acceptance. There are no other ethnicities here outside of the Black / White dynamic. Granted the “Prince” (Robert Sepúlveda) is of Puerto Rican decent but he is still a White Latino. Indian, Arab, Asian, Pacific Islander, Indigenous American…all absent.


    And where are the thick men or the bears? No I’m not talking about “gay fat” men, no I mean the thick bearish men or the fat dudes whose body types are represented, like on Logo’s other mega popular show Drag Race? These are the ones the queer PC police told us that we should stop (rightfully so) body shaming right and are just as sexy as those sporting 6 pack abs? Well, I least from what I saw in the trailer, they’re not represented here either.

    Something else that I’ve noticed is the ageism in male homosexual culture. If you’re over 35 you’re sticking your tip in AARP senior citizen territory. 40 and over, and you’ve worked the length and girth all the way in. There are countless older men who are established, sexy and in the best shape of their lives who are over 40 years old. For the sake of this particular show, it kinda gets a pass due to the understanding that many people look for partners in their own age range….but this IS show business. Just like with more ethnicities, a wider variety in age could have been beneficial for gay consumption. I feel elements within gay media need to prepare young men to life after the partying and fast lifestyles.

    Prince Charming Robert Sepúlveda
    There is a neatly PR packaged bio for “Prince Charming” on the Logo channel; however there is also an extensive online foot print of Sepúlveda as well. After seeing the latter…WTF?


    Really Logo? I mean was this some kind of casting couch decision? This was like discovering the man or woman I’m engaged to was a bukakee bareback gang bang recipient…and it’s all on film.

    Not only is Robert Sepúlveda an ex-escort / prostitute, but currently there are videos of him online conducting himself in semen play, masturbation and self-anal masturbation (best term I could think of at the moment) to name a few. Couple that with the copious amount of shirtless pics posing in designer underwear and you have the makings of a narcissistic stereotypical pay-to-play gaylebrity image that infests the homosexual community.

    Did they even do a background check or were they (Logo execs and Lance Bass) just simply dickmotized by Sepúlveda’s nude photos and mesmerized by his Instagram chiseled dime a dozen physique? This is the bachelor Prince Charming they decided to present to the homosexual and heterosexual masses. Sepúlveda (by Logo’s standards) represents the crème de la crème homosexual man that the other men fawn and fuss over for his affections.

    Sepúlveda released a statement concerning his (cough) escort-porn past:

    I think that a real Prince Charming is someone who has life experience in all aspects of life, that isn’t afraid of someone with HIV or someone who doesn’t care what you’ve done in your past. The past is the past. I was young and it helped through college,’ he said. ‘But what I want people to focus on is who I am today as an entrepreneur, as an activist.

    Fair enough, but why when I Google Sepúlveda, it looks like he is allergic to shirts and pants? Why aren’t there over whelming majority of the pictures in a Google image search not of his successful business and activism?

    Why this is a Problem?
    By propping Sepúlveda up as the Gold Star does nothing but help exacerbate the harmful outdated clichés that homosexual men lack morals, standards, are overly promiscuous and spread disease more so than our heterosexual counterparts.


    Can we get a regular non-ex-prostitute homosexual man who doesn’t currently have pornographic videos online doing questionable things with semen, hands and bottles who isn’t an aspiring gaylebrity hoping to become a gay celebrity media whore?

    I’m not saying homosexual men (like myself) don’t have a past. I’m not saying men (like myself) who have done questionable or sexual acts like what Sepúlveda displays in his videos are bad. Nor am I shaming those sexual acts or escorts (one of the oldest entrepreneurial professions in history). We all love sex.

    What I am saying is that we’re not all superficial, materialistic, queer identifying, escorts, fashionistas, dramatical, sassy or catty men with fitness model physiques desperately seeking male attention…and were not all feminists with penises. We’re all not like the homosexual men that are paraded in front of us on reality television.

    Unfortunately the diverse totality of the homosexual male in mainstream media continues to thrive on tired tropes. This conditions and indoctrinates many young homosexual men into thinking and believing that to be a part, one must adopt and conform to these dominate LGBT cultural standards; while simultaneously alienating homosexual men (regardless of masculine or feminine characteristics) whose personalities and behaviors don’t fall in line.

    Is Logo saying that Sepúlveda is the single homosexual man next door…that Sepúlveda is the standard American Gay Bachelor?

    To the homosexual or same gender loving men, do you agree with or accept this standard or representation? In your experience, is Logo actually correct in that Sepúlveda is the normal (past included) regular, around the way, single gay man looking for love? Is he – and this show – endemic of the gay culture?

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  23. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    Africa’s Future Has No Space for Stupid Black Men

    1. Boy, that night was energy.

    2. It was the night that I’d last see C. Boy, for a couple of weeks later, in March, he would be found dead in his backyard. The night was full of energy. The kind of energy that Africa needs to reinvent itself. Fierce. Electrifying. Full.

    3. 13 January 2015. On the second anniversary of the day and year Nigeria signed the Same Sex Marriage Prohibition Act into law, I honoured an email invitation from C. Boy to attend a secret party for homosexuals he was hosting in a nightclub in Kaduna. The invite mentioned coming along with a partner who had enough discipline to keep a secret. ‘The partner may be “straight” but must not be homophobic; an artist is preferable,’ it emphasised. And beneath it was an NB that read ‘There will be a brainstorming session on the word “afro-modernism”. We are giving it a new meaning. Kindly pre-study the word.’

    It sounded like a great idea, so I called a lesbian friend (a photographer-cum-designer-cum-blogger) and we headed to the nightclub, somewhere in Kaduna South, in a district known as Barnawa.

    The year before, I had attended a dance concert curated by C. Boy in Gombe. It was meant to be a fundraiser, through ticket sales, for the gay club he had just founded. Though the event was a public show, the intention behind it was kept secret except for a few of his cronies. I was one of them. But it eventually turned out to be a total flop. It poured all day, and the hired loudspeakers and the improvised stage already set up in the middle of a primary-school field were destroyed. Later that night, we sat in the lobby of a cheap motel and talked over bottles of beer about the loss of funds put into the concert. He kept smiling in his seat, constantly rubbing his moustache, and joining the conversation in monosyllables.

    C. Boy was from Adamawa, in north-eastern Nigeria. His father had sent him to Zaria to study engineering at the Ahmadu Bello University, because he ‘wanted his family to produce the first engineer in his home town’. But C. Boy had another plan: on arriving in Zaria he deferred his admission, rented a flat off campus and began learning software applications, website creation and concept development, all by himself. He did this until the following term, when he began his classes. But still, he wasn’t excited. Most of the time, he was out of Zaria, travelling by night bus to far-away Port Harcourt to visit his lover, a boy he had met and fallen in love with through Facebook just before he was granted admission to university. ‘My father was thinking I was the “obedient” budding engineer from his home town. But leaving his house was leaving his ways and dreams. Everyone got his drives. My father’s is not mine,’ he said to a group of students in his apartment one Sunday morning in 2013. We were having a Sunday brunch.

    It was from his numerous visits to Port Harcourt that he found a gay community and thought of founding one himself in Zaria. So, that night in the lobby of the motel, he mourned the loss of another chance to fund the club. A club he held so dear.

    That day, as I headed to the nightclub, I wondered why he sat in that lobby as though he had just lost someone close to him, and also why this particular party was not a ticketed event.

    11 p.m. We arrived late. A friend dropped us off a street away from the club, and we begged him to return for us at five in the morning. He drove off, and we crossed the road to our destination. My partner led the way; I walked behind, carrying her camera, a notepad and a spare pullover. The harmattan was a bitch.

    I swear. The bouncers at the doorway would scare the hell out of John Cena. They allowed us entrance when we showed an e-copy of the invite on my friend’s phone.

    There was a check-in desk in the hall. We were issued tags. Mine read, we are the future democracy, and hers, in our father’s house, there are many loves. we chant it cos it’s so. Soon we walked inside to join the party.

    C. Boy, our host, saw us from where he was standing by the DJ’s booth and started toward us, smiling. His jeans, dyed dreadlocked hair and dashiki matched the colour of wine in the glass in his hand: burgundy.

    The party was pulsating. It was a festival of energy, of music, of hair, of ideas, of gays, of happiness, of fashion. Of language, love, meaning. A festival of dreams and assertion.

    My friend headed to the bar for a drink, and I jumped to the dance floor to rock lost-but-found folks and long-time brothers.


    4. I first met C. Boy on 14 September 2012. He had been invited to perform at a poetry slam I was hosting on the rooftop of a house in Samaru, a neighbourhood in Zaria. Apart from stealing the show with his epic spoken-word performance, he got in a fight with a guy who had performed a poem that mocked homosexuals. He was mad like a bull that night. He would have killed the guy if not for the crowd that fought to restrain him. After the event, I recall, he sat apart from everyone in a yellow plastic chair and wept like a child. We became friends and soon got to know each other well: I am bisexual, he’s homosexual.

    C. Boy was the engineering student who could recite all the scholars in the humanities and their theories by heart. He had read the postcolonial texts and hated Walter Rodney’s theories. I heard rumours that he had dropped out. ‘Yes, I left engineering,’ he told me. ‘It wasn’t a dropout, it’s a changeover.’

    Cliché, but the true nature of things: if you are found to be gay in Nigeria, you are on your way to prison, to rot away for the next six hundred and something weeks of your fucking life. And that’s if you’re lucky. Because you don’t always get it, you can’t always get it. Why? Because you are the demon that needs to be exorcised, lynched, stoned to death, hacked to death, burned to death, beaten to death, or done something to death. It doesn’t matter how: you must die, before the law manages to stroll by to see your predicament. So, to avoid rotting away in prison or getting killed, you take to secret love and/or a pretend heterosexual orientation.

    All over Nigeria, your kind is harassed and troubled daily. From Bauchi to Zamfara, from Kano to Yobe, from Kaduna to Borno, from Abuja to Benue, Kogi, Plateau and Lagos, from Warri to Benin, all the way to Nnewi, your kind suffers public thrashings, stonings and judgements. They do. We do.

    It was to reinterrogate this narrative that C. Boy dropped out of school. It sounded like a crazy and risky idea for a 24-year-old to be leaving school for such a project, but C. Boy had guts. All he wanted was to found a club that served LGBT people, a space where they could network and find expression. A warm brotherhood for people of ‘like passions’ living in a society that demonises them. ‘The club has to be an energetic underground space,’ he once told me. ‘They don’t see us, but we exist. It has to be this way until the crazies in the government reverse that fucking law.’

    21 October 2013, on his birthday, he founded the club by hosting a party of fifteen people (all gay) in the small flat off campus that he was still renting. He named it Party BomBoy (PBB).


    5. This party brought to eleven the number of PBB events I had attended. From concerts, open mikes, readings, exhibitions and symposia, retreats and picnics to poetry slams.


    6. The DJ scratched the groove and it seemed the roof would come down on us. Highlife is energy. My dancing partner at the moment was Maima, a writer from Lokoja. We rocked on. Two prisoners just let loose. Energy.

    It was that time in every party, that time when it turns into a whirlwind. Booze and Afrobeat-enhanced ecstasy. That time when you lose your partner to the crowd, indifferent to the loss because you are absorbed in rocking with someone else. Everybody becomes generous with his partner, his spirit, his smells and his sweat.

    C. Boy and I left the party to chat a bit. Two months earlier, I had told him that I was writing about the gay movement in northern Nigeria and needed an interview with him. So, since we both were so overscheduled, we had arranged a brief interview for that night.

    We sat by the doorway, on the seats by the check-in desk. We talked, sharing cigarettes and drinks. He appeared fatigued and slimmed-down. The bags under his eyes sagged in an unsettling way. ‘I am just battling depression, but trust me always, your nigga is fine,’ he said when I tried to find out what was wrong. We laughed; pecked each other. I asked for his permission to record our interview and he sipped his drink, smacked, and nodded. ‘You are asking that? Come on, dude; don’t make this nigga feel like a celeb. Come on.’

    When C. Boy founded PBB he never knew the extent to which the club would play important roles in the lives of young men and women like him. He had only thought of using the money he made from designing games and websites to support and house in his small flat in Zaria seven to ten people who had been displaced because of their sexual orientation. He was shocked by the reality that surfaced soon after the club was founded. In less than a year, about twenty people showed interest and joined the club: young men and women, Christians, Muslims, students and non-students from across Nigeria. Most of them were scared to come out to family and friends, others had been disowned and driven from home, homeless, needy and hungry. C. Boy was in a fix: money, meeting tuition and housing costs were huge challenges.

    I asked how he coped with the situation. He lit a cigarette and thought for a moment before starting to respond.

    ‘Man, it was fucking tough. You know, starting a group, a movement like this one is not like running a political party. It’s not a project anyone, including the NGOs here, wants to support. How can you register a group that is already criminalised and demonised even before its emergence? Man, it was fucking tough.’ He stopped speaking for another drag, tapped the ash on the ashtray and continued. ‘The solace was only in the reality that I could bring troubled people together so they could share their problems in a close but warm space. Survival was a challenge but you know, just as they say, a problem shared is half solved.’

    Early in 2014, PBB was able to pay for two flats, in Kaduna and Zaria respectively, for any homeless and troubled member to live in. Both were equipped with studies, computers and Wi-Fi. PBB was able to pay tuition for twenty-three students of its ‘parentless’ and homeless members in different colleges and universities across Nigeria, and also provide living stipends from all these sources.

    Though the main funding for PBB came from C. Boy, the club was able to diversify its sources of funding. Having paid to train some members in photography, film-making, fashion design and app creation, the burden of funding lessened. Almost everyone was a freelance of some kind. More funds came from tickets sales for open mikes, poetry slams, exhibitions and concerts. ‘These events are the major strategies through which PBB sends coded signs to society that homosexuals exist here, and are ready to continue existing regardless of any law against them,’ C. Boy told me. Most of the artistic outdoor events in Kaduna, Zaria, Jos and Gombe were hosted and managed by PBB’s team of concept developers. And of course, strict measures were laid down and followed to keep secret the identities of the people behind the events. ‘We are making society feel our energy by curating these events.’

    C. Boy chuckled and shook his head when I asked why he wasn’t allowing PBB to reach out to foreign organisations sympathetic to the cause of LGBT. ‘I don’t believe in that bullshit,’ he began, rubbing his eyes. He stood up and scurried to the DJ’s booth, spoke into the ear of the DJ and returned immediately.

    ‘So sorry for that. Just reminded him to allow time for our brainstorming session. It’s important.’

    He sat facing me, his back to the dance floor. I looked across his shoulders into the crowd to see if I could find my partner. I didn’t see her. It seemed like everyone had found the space and time to dance for the first time in their lives. The music blared, the groove kept on.

    I lit another cigarette. C. Boy stared at me with those bored eyes. I reminded him of the question I had asked; he rubbed his eyes again.

    He didn’t like the idea of foreign aid to Africa in whatever form or guise, particularly ‘using Africa as a sympathy tool to benefit from an organised system called “corporate responsibility” ’.

    ‘You see, it’s so easy to attract sympathy for this kind of cause. Internet and all that, you know,’ he said, snapping his finger to show how easy and fast it is to let the world know. ‘But the issue is this, we, these guys here, all of us, don’t want to be used as ads’ contents and objects. I don’t want any social media sympathy campaigns, especially those inspired and promoted toward Western organisations. Doing that would be objectifying our dreams, our passions and our bodies. It would be like organised prostitution. It’s cheap, and fucking cruel to what we are trying to do.’

    ‘We are learning to stop looking up there (to the West) by working out how we can help ourselves here. How long are we going to keep asking for aid and foreign assistance?’ He stopped talking, and reached for his wine.


    7. C. Boy told me about his guests – stories defying mainstream narratives about LGBT people in repressive societies like Africa. Stories of pride, ambition and rebellion. There was Musa (not his real name), twenty-three, an Igala Muslim on the dance floor, whose widowed illiterate mother accepted his sexuality; he worked as a studio engineer to support his family. There was Kenny, twenty-seven, a graffiti artist and a born-again Christian who had left home two years ago in search of love. He was hoping for things to improve for gays in Nigeria so he could marry in a church. C. Boy showed me a girl, twenty-two, in a jacket and miniskirt and heels, who was studying biochemistry and working on a book on women, Islam and sexuality in northern Nigeria. She was yet to let any family member know her sexuality. Sitting round a table with friends was Joshua, a married 45-year-old man and a lecturer in a polytechnic. He was the oldest man in the club. C. Boy told me Joshua was preparing a divorce, and hoped to leave the country afterwards. He seemed to be the only one there seeking a new place.

    Everyone here recognised the legitimacy of their sexuality. ‘We’ll be happy knowing this until death comes,’ C. Boy said in conclusion. ‘And we’re glad we know this. Our feelings are legitimate. Fuck whoever thinks otherwise.’

    He sipped his drink, heaved the sigh of someone with a lot of things to say, facing huge difficulties saying them.

    He lit a cigarette. Instead of smoking it, he held it between his fingers and stared at it glowing and slowly shortening.


    8. Depression is so disrespectful, so harassing.

    I once confided in a boy when I was at university about my battle with depression since childhood and he gave me this are-you-fucking-serious look. ‘Africans don’t suffer from depression,’ he said. ‘It’s one of those fashionable things black men say now to sound sophisticated like the white man, like being gay,’ he continued, to further undermine the genuineness of my feeling. His opinion broke me down for two reasons. One, the flimsy way humans treat each other. Two, he was a final-year student in social sciences. How could he be so stupid?

    11.43 a.m. 11 March 2015, my phone beeped with this text: ‘It’s here today again. Like never before. Fucking me up like never before. I lost, lost today. Cowardly disappointing. That’s me. Sorry!’

    It was from C. Boy.

    The door was locked from the inside. We broke in. He was nowhere in the room. The windows were flung open. And when we reached the window by his bed and looked down, we saw him. He lay in a pool of coagulated blood on the concrete floor of the backyard. For all these hours he lay there dead with his split-up head, and none of his neighbours knew. He lay there and nobody knew. Death is a solo business anyway. Like depression, it is always a solo transaction. Always.

    We called the ambulance. And when we reached his family, they pleaded with us not to reveal to anyone the manner of his death. ‘I’m an elder in the church, please protect our name,’ his father said on the phone.

    The clothes on his bed, floor and chairs seemed like he had contemplated what to put on before climbing out that window and diving off. There were half-closed books on his bed and table, and pencils, dictionaries, notepads, papers, a teacup, ashtray, spoons, erasers, pencil sharpeners, spiral-bound manuscripts, wrapped weed, a Bible, devotional books, unfinished cards of paracetamol and aspirin, bangles and an HP laptop. He had been working on a book, a collection of essays reflecting on Africa’s future. ‘Dude, this book will shake this continent to its root. Fucking draggy, but I’m called to write this shit. You know, good books always drag,’ he said with enthusiasm one night in his flat. He had just returned from seeing his family in Adamawa. Two brothers and a sister and their father. He said he was going to reveal his sexuality to his siblings, and they would be fine with it.

    From where I stood in the room I could see a paper pasted on the wall. I walked closer to read the words on it. It read africa’s future has no space for fucking stupid black men. He signed the statement with his name.

    After two weeks in the mortuary, the burial was eventually held on a hot afternoon in Zaria. His siblings and his father didn’t show up.


    9. About 3 a.m. A dance contest and spoken-word/rap battle were under way. C. Boy suggested we finally rejoin the party. I paused the recording. We moved to the dance floor. And for first time since we came, I saw my partner, in a sweat, on the dance floor, trouncing her challenger.

    We are the contestants. In us, Africa finds its true rhythm to contest.

    If you stepped in here, you would see all of us – gays, lesbians, bisexuals: oppressed people – refusing to mourn the anti-gay laws. We are making a mockery of it; mourning, for us, is not a virtue. We are reinforcing our passion and existence in this hall, right now, in our own way. Unknown to the world, we are buzzing in here with energy and stamina and dreams. We are laughs. We are smart laughing fires. Our feet are fires; so are our waists, our tongues, our eyes and our passions. You would see us blazing, emitting prophecies. We are fires: smoky hot fires, ready to choke to death the places and imaginations that threaten our survival.

    If you were in this hall, you would feel how we assert ourselves through music, words, dance, hair, fashion, technology, ideas and spirits. We are spirits. If you were here, you would notice that we are not the demons roaming your cities and villages with evil and sin in our bosoms. We are not wayward, perverse, queer or funny lovers. We are children of our parents, children of this continent, children of nature, of imagination and of hunger. If you were in this club seeing the tears roll down our eyes, feeling the sweat on our bodies, pouring down our torsos to our pants, as we move to Afrobeat, Afropop, highlife and juju, you would realise that WE ARE CHILDREN OF OUR GODS. We exist.

    We are buddies, roomies, comrades; breaking loose from our chains and jumping off the ships, sailing to places where our dreams and our existence would be lynched. We are the holy spirits, and we prefer battling and drowning in fierce oceans and keeping our prophecies safe than to be lynched by foolish black men.

    We are children of Africa. And we care to be so.


    10. The contests were concluded. We took a break for tea, for cigarettes, for booze, for toilets: for transition. We are the most prominent feature of Africa’s transitioning; in us Africa truly rises. Girls headed to the restroom carried handbags, toothbrushes and pullovers. The men seemed not to care; they loitered around, chatting, wine glasses and teacups in hand, wiping off sweat from their bodies, smoking. I grabbed my partner’s camera; I snapped anything and anyone I could see. Bottles, shoes, cigarette packs strewn all over the floor; silhouettes of couples smooching around the corners; guys mixing drinks at the bar and yelling at each other; the Afro or dyed or locked or Mohawk or plain hairdos, I snapped them all, the girls returning from the restroom and the boys rearranging the seats. I snapped them. Here, we are the photographs of Africa’s budding pluralities.

    And when we settled down to begin the brainstorming session we all smelled of sweat, booze, cigarettes, confidence and excitement. This is the best part of every party, the time when you don’t complain of your neighbour’s smell because it’s a familiar smell, because it mingles with your own. Smells of mutual experience and lust.

    Switching from party mode to intellectual discourse was a drag. Everyone whispered and yawned and chewed and belched: the hangovers from partying. The seats had been rearranged in a circle so we faced one another no matter where we sat. I ran my eyes through to figure our number. We were forty-one. Seventeen girls.

    C. Boy and Jenny, the tallest girl and person in the party, launched the session with impassioned speeches.

    I continued recording. We were talking about Afro-modernism.

    Insights. Theories and counter-theories. Quotations and misquotations, and their debunking and deconstructions. Insults. Anger. Fierceness. Applause. Table banging. Wisdom. Foolishness. Completedness. Unfinishedness. Smelling mouths. Tongues of fire. Energy!


    11. Africa is enlarging itself to become a CENTRE too. Africa is coming out to make visible its own CENTRES, headquarters, laboratories and metropolises. Africa is rising. Rising from the centuries-old folly of stupid black people. Africa is de-scribing itself, re-scribing itself and pre-scribing its future; it is reinventing itself through the mouths and imaginations of its babes and sucklings. For out of the mouths of babes and sucklings shall come forth mysteries and inventions and innovations and assertions.

    We are babes and sucklings. And our tongues and imaginations are fire.


    12. These are the various points and insights from the brainstorming session.

    We are neither a theory nor a movement. We are open space: Africa’s newest genre. We are the unemployables, dissidents, techies, pan-Africanists, designers, etc., coming out, in the twenty-first century, in our different corners, to challenge the centuries-old notion that Africa does little thinking, trades badly and is even worse at buying.

    ‘Afro-moderns do nothing but look at and in and with and for Africa and its future, with the hope of reinventing and re-energising it,’ Baban Gida says. ‘We are economists, industrialists and investors renegotiating Africa’s trade terms and conditions. We are not white-collar aspirants or mere civil servants or lame creatives. Afro-modernism makes the case to stretch “all of this” continent to the space where it becomes the centre of the world.’ He concludes his point to thunderous applause and yells.

    Afro-moderns are renegotiating and/or terminating the skewed contracts, contracts signed by our forefathers and their stupid descendants in power who are still ruining the continent today.

    Afro-moderns know how badly their stupid forefathers performed in the past and are now refusing to mourn it. They know about colonialism and slavery and neocolonialism and imperialism and other isms unfavourable to Africa, but are not going to keep wailing over the deeds and greed of devilish, vile, horrendous and criminal white people like those idiotic postcolonial scholars did, the people who squandered a precious chance, before and after independence, to create a true continent. Afro-moderns are neither Afro-romantics nor Negritudes. They are not critics and insulters of white people, or the other kinds of crap.

    Afro-moderns are interested in a non-romantic view of Africa. That’s how they hope to see it, and thereby recreate it. That’s how to create its new curricula, its new politics, its new arts and aesthetics, its new business, its new industry, its pluralities.

    Afro-moderns are men and women whose only family, industry and business is Africa. And the constant pursuit is to expand, diversify, energise, imagine and reimagine it. We are farmers, engineers, artists, technocrats, industrialists, scientists, negotiators; professionals living and working for Africa with the sole aim of growing, raising and branding it. We are homosexuals, heterosexuals, bisexuals, transexuals and whateversexuals burning to rescue this continent from the ruins of stupid black men. We are not only the turning-point generation; we are also Africa’s hugest turning, biggest point and boldest generation.


    13. Ishaku, twenty-four, was on his feet describing what he preferred Afro-modernism to be known as when one of the bouncers walked in to C. Boy and whispered something in his ear. They left for the door together, speaking in a low voice.

    It wasn’t long. C. Boy hurried back into the hall, to the DJ’s booth and pulled out a bag. He put something that I didn’t see in his back pocket and walked back to the door. He looked troubled.

    It was 4.15 a.m. Something was wrong.

    One by one, everyone moved to the door.

    We heard sirens blaring at a distance, approaching the club. There was a push at the door. A scamper, as everyone ran back to the hall. No one seemed to know what it was exactly, but the word ‘police’ was on everyone’s lips. ‘They’ve come for us. We are busted,’ someone, I don’t remember who, said.

    The sirens were outside. Someone gave C. Boy a hard push from the door and he fell backwards into the hall. He quickly stood back on his feet, as seven masked policemen, armed with guns, walked inside. There was a huge silence. Another officer, without a mask or a gun, walked in after his men. The officers began searching the DJ’s booth, the restrooms, the bar and the dark corners here and there. It took ten to fifteen minutes.

    They returned and, guns pointing, asked all of us to sit on the floor. We sat. Nobody dared to speak.

    ‘Who’s Marshal here? Marshal Dominic?’ the officer asked no one in particular.

    There was no one. No Marshal here.

    ‘No one here goes by that name.’ It was Joshua speaking.

    At this time, one of the policemen located a light switch to the brighter lights in the club and turned them on. The club’s laser lights were too weak to make out people’s faces. The officer had a photograph in his hand; he started moving from person to person, comparing their faces to the picture. He walked round and didn’t find a match.

    He came back to where he first stood, and nodded to the policemen to move to the door. It was tense. I felt a pain in my chest. Everyone stared at him with eyes that spoke of fear of lynching or imprisonment.

    He looked at the photograph again before bringing his eyes to us, searching. Then he cleared his throat. ‘This guy is a murderer and we got tipped he would be here this night. He clubs here.’ He moved closer to us, raised the photograph for us to see. ‘Anyone seen this guy?’

    We shook our heads.

    He walked out. They walked out. The sirens started again. And they left.

    Fear dehumanises.

    Fear of being caught as gay in Nigeria demeans one’s humanity. Fear of Nigeria’s police arresting you for being homosexual crushes every gut you have.

    Jenny burst out crying. Joshua rushed to her, put his hand round her and started crying too. Leila joined in, Kenny was groaning, and my partner walked up to me and let out a loud cry. Then everyone began crying as if we had just turned orphans.

    Tears taste like salt. Our tears. We are salts. Africa’s salt. And we are here shedding tears because we are trampled upon on every side. But these men don’t know this: that the more they trample upon us, the tastier we become.

    Musa stood up, started for the restroom. As he turned to the door, he fell down. A heavy crash. We rushed to him. He was having a fit, the fiercest convulsion I have seen all my life. His hands and legs shook turbulently, like they had a life of their own.

    There was commotion. We ran back and forth, with water from the restroom. We pulled off our clothes and fanned him with them. I ran outside, and our friend with the car was there waiting. I ran back in, and we carried him into the car. Joshua and Kenny sat in the back and we laid him on their legs. My partner sat in front. They drove off to the hospital.

    It was 5.13 a.m.

    Everyone sat about in the hall, fatigued and broken. C. Boy sat on the seat by the check-in. I joined him. We sat in silence.

    I lit a cigarette and gave it to him. He refused.

    ‘Look at the boy, the poor boy. Did you see him?’ He started talking, his voice nearing a cry. ‘What had he done to be frightened in that way? For being something else?’ I didn’t answer.

    ‘We may have ended this event on a bad note, but I tell you we’ve made a huge statement. We’ve started something.’ He brought out a revolver from his back pocket and kept it on the table.

    ‘I can’t close my eyes and let anyone hurt any of these people. I can’t. Dude, I can’t.’

    We sat in silence. A few people started to leave the club.

    ‘I need to go,’ I said. C. Boy didn’t respond. He stared down. I walked to the bar for water, and when I returned he was no longer sitting. He was on the floor, crying and asking, ‘What have we done to be scared to death like that? What did that small boy do to deserve such a scare? What?’

    I didn’t answer. If I did, tears would start running from my eyes. So, I just stood and watched this 27-year-old man sitting on the floor and weeping because he was homosexual. I didn’t answer.


    14. Boy, that night was energy. The night I last saw C. Boy. Suicide is a means of taking flight to hibernate too, a means of kinetic energy too. Fuck whoever thinks otherwise.


    Artwork © Daniela Yohannes
     
  24. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    Look...I'm not a hair extension / weave connoisseur or nothing but it just seems like its not done right.
    jacob.png
    jacob2.png
     
  25. RolandG

    Bae Material Squad Leader The 1000 Daps Club Supporter

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    Here's a profile update I started and @Nick Delmacy thought it might make a good conversation. Anyone else experience this or was it unique to just me? What websites actually give black gay men, who are attracted to other black gay men, a true chance at finding love?

    RolandG I did my own little experiment and discovered that OKCupid is for white men and black men who like white men. Thank you and goodnight.
    Today at 6:49 PMEditDeleteReport Post
    Comment
    1. [​IMG]
      Nick Delmacy
      Yeah I been saying this for a minute....I would add that its for black men who like white republican sugar daddy men...it is in Atlanta at least.
      Today at 7:28 PM Delete Report Post
      Dap

    2. [​IMG]
      RolandG
      @Nick Delmacy , Yeah, a friend and I were debating this fact. He didn't think that all the black men on there preferred white men. It was interesting. To prove my point, i set up two fake profiles, one of a black attractive man and one of an attractive white man and messaged the same black men....
      6 minutes ago Edit Delete Report Post
      Nick Delmacy dapped this.
    3. [​IMG]
      RolandG
      Out of a sample of about 25 black gay men, not one responded to the message from the black man but they all responded immediately to the white man with smiley face emojis and comments about how they preferred white men. SMH Ain't no black gay man gonna find black love on there.
      5 minutes ago Edit Delete Report Post
      Nick Delmacy dapped this.
    4. [​IMG]
      Nick Delmacy
      This is awesome. You should def copy this story into a thread for discussion.
      3 minutes ago Delete Report Post
     
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  26. Winston Smith

    Best Site Comments The 1000 Daps Club Supporter

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    Obviously "fem" and "masc" dudes both catch different grief for different reasons, especially among black folk. It's not anti-fem prejudice to point out that black masc viewpoints are sublimated by mainstream straight and gay media. Nor is it wrong to point out masc dudes catch special kinds of brief because we don't "scan" as "stereotypical gay" which puts some straight males in a panic; if they can't "sort us out" from the general "gay population" it threatens their fragile masculinity to think we might walk among them, in work, gyms, military, etc. (someone should do a gay horror parody and call it "The Unclockable").

    This early episode of "All In The Family" addressed the whole fem/masc gay thing decades before it was even on most folk's radar, let alone general LGBT issues. Archie is doubly shocked to find out his ex-NFL, sports loving bar buddy is gay as opposed to his son in laws effeminate and foppish friend who is actually straight. His reaction at the bar (18:00 into episode) is something I can relate to, as most black folk in my life have the same reaction to me and other masc gay/bi bros
     
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  27. alton

    Squad Leader The Great Debater The 1000 Daps Club

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    "Why did it take the US so long to end slavery-after most other nations like England and France has done away with it years earlier?"

    That's a simple answer. For the same entity that rules every facet of this country's existence today...
    [​IMG]
     
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  28. Cyrus-Brooks

    Cyrus-Brooks is a Featured MemberCyrus-Brooks The Black Vulcan
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    [/QUOTE][/QUOTE]


    Regardless of their personal situation or upbringing white people regardless of there sexual orientation in this country are brought up in a culture that tells them they're superior to non-whites, especially black people. There is no denying that. It's not something you should take personally like someone is calling you a racist. Also you also can't deny the fact that gay media is overwhelmingly controlled by affluent white people. In the rare instances non-white lgbt people are shown it's almost always in an interracial context. This helps gives ammunition to homophobes in the black community that "homosexuality is a white man's disease." Of course not all white people or white gay people are racist or white supremacists. They don't have to be. White supremacy is so pervasive that it is self sustaining. It doesn't need all white people to be racist in order to function, yet all white people benefit from it, including white gay people.
     
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  29. ControlledXaos

    Squad Veteran Most Valuable Player The 1000 Daps Club

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    This whole discussion:
    :feedme:
     
  30. Nick Delmacy

    Nick Delmacy is a Verified MemberNick Delmacy Da Architect
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    I want to call bullshit on the notion that celebrity Black men can't maintain their Black culture and identity. If you want, I can list hundreds of examples of Black men who are more wealthy and more famous than any Black gay man you can name...men who succeed in board rooms and the White House, yet still have a tight grasp on Black culture and identity that almost all little black kids could relate to and see themselves in...

    Hell, the Obamas were "blacker" than all of these Black gay men and they had death threats daily for being who they were.

    Oprah is richer, blacker and gayer than all of us combined.
     
  31. alton

    Squad Leader The Great Debater The 1000 Daps Club

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    Im madd anything involving Vivica garnered this much conversation.
    [​IMG]
     
  32. NikR

    Bae Material The 1000 Daps Club

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    A truly excellent lace front, I must say. He needs to come over here and sit on my lap, with all that damn chacccclate


    lace front shawwwty.jpg lacefront disaster.jpg LaceFrontPolice_400x400.jpg
     
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  33. ControlledXaos

    Squad Veteran Most Valuable Player The 1000 Daps Club

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    And can we also help this brother with some money management?

    I'm wondering what his skills are? Would he be OK with using this buzz to spin it to an income stream? Doing club appearances and such?

    If that's too much for him to handle boxing classes or self defense classes marketed to gay men? Personal training?

    He's got at least 9 responsibilities if the 23 year old isn't due child support,not knowing what the other kids ages are. This guy needs stable income and support.

    I see Ilanya in is future for for real.
     
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  34. OhSheit

    Bae Material The 1000 Daps Club

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    [​IMG]

    this is more like it. smugbama
     
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  35. OckyDub

    OckyDub is a Verified MemberOckyDub I gave the Loc'ness monstah about $3.50
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    Yep...FemBots
    [​IMG]
     
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