Omari Hardwick’s 200 tweets “stop talking about my wife.” Isn’t that excessive?

When it comes to all the bad news in general, or hoopla surrounding today’s celebrities, I rarely hear about it unless my daughter sends me a link to a story. I sigh when I take the time to read or skim through ’em. I want to share my thoughts on many, but I barely have time to work on my fiction series, which I feel is more important. At least among those pages, I can speak my truth through my characters. But I will take time to share my thoughts on the Omari Hardwick story about fans screaming about his new wife because it brings up angry feelings for me but not in the way that you think.

When I first read the story and Omari Hardwick’s responses, I said to myself really? What is all the uproar about, especially, coming from Omari Hardwick who felt he needed to send out 200 tweets to defend his right to marry who he chooses? 200 tweets to tell everyone to either “shut the fuck up” or “stop talking about my wife!” Well here’s to you Mr. Hardwick – boohoo. I hope you are over it. We all know that this is a cruel world full of cruel people and when you are in the public eye you can expect to get trashed sooner or later. Just ask our first black President Barack Obama who gets cursed out the minute he wakes up; his black kids get trashed and his beautiful black wife Michelle isn’t immune. Many in the public call this black woman ugly, an angry black woman and everything else but a child of God. However, both Bo and Mo have handled the public scrutiny and cruelty with style and grace. So, Omari Hardwick, if anything, you should have broke-out a bottle of the best champagne (y’all can afford it) and toasted your wife and said “Well honey welcome to sisterhood. Now you know what it feels like to be a black woman!”

Uh-huh. The public has been rather unkind to a black woman’s looks, saying we don’t meet the grade unless we look like Beyoncé. I brought up this subject when Michael Jordan married his white wife and 6,000 people took to Yahoo to talk about how ugly, stanky and worthless black women were and that is the reason black men no longer wanted to marry them.  Well you haters on Omari, if you think his wife is ugly, then looks are not the reason black men don’t marry black women.  When you get right down to it, black women have taken the worst heat when it comes to perceived beauty in this country. The disgusting remarks by those invisible chatroom assholes piss me the hell off. Y’all know if you came out in public, you wouldn’t dare say anything because you’d be setting yourself up for a beatdown.

Frankly, I was surprised that anyone made such remarks against the new Mrs. Hardwick. She’s white. Generally, black men are applauded for marrying white women regardless of what people perceive to be beautiful. I know people think Jordan’s wife is fine. I still can’t see it but hey, that is another topic indeed: “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”

As for Omari Hardwick, he has the right to say what he wants. But I hate to say this “celebs.” The folks talking don’t give a damn. They could care less about your responses, which Omari’s no doubt came straight from his anger and emotion. Hmm. Surprises me that Hardwick’s wife, who is a publicist, didn’t tell him to chill for a minute and respond later with some sense. I read some of Hardwick’s comments and they didn’t make a bit of sense to me. Some of what he said may have been important, but it may be all for not.

In that vein, as a PR person, I have to remind myself what to say to the public and how to say it when they piss me the hell off. In my world, when I am not doing Amanishakhete, I am publicly attacked and still talked about in the newspaper in association with former companies I’ve worked for or headed. My attorney, I keep on retainer, tells me to stay cool and refrain from engaging with the public, trying to defend myself, my choices or my work. It’s a waste of time unless it is a clear case of defamation. Then we get paid. Well I haven’t been that lucky – yet.

So, meanwhile, I guess the lesson here is how best to respond. Or maybe not. Or maybe just keep it short and sweet and say, for example, STFU (shut the fuck up). Or wait a day or two and respond with grace and candor like the President. Beyoncé learned that lesson quickly after she told her fans to mind their own business after her sister went off on JayZ in the elevator. She must have heard me telling her off all the way from Wilsonville. After all, the fans in her business, made her the almost billionaire she is today. Immediately, the next day, she came out with a much eloquent statement no doubt written by her PR team who had to remind her she’s a public figure who’s still getting paid big money.

Yep. Celebrities are human too. But being a public figure has its downfalls. Things haven’t changed since I learned about the plight of public figures in High School Econ and Political Science (umpteen years ago) and how those attacking public figures have the right to exercise free speech. We can spend our time shouting back at the free speech haters, but what good will it do? It may make us feel better, but in the end what a waste of time. I’d rather just get paid.

Meanwhile, I have 4 words for those who hate this post or who want to talk about my future boo who may end up being a white man ’cause unlike other sista’s I ain’t waiting for another brotha who may never come along, or one who thinks you should marry him just because… My 4 words are WGAF “Who gives a fuck!” At the end of the day, I still plan to watch my man Omari on the new series Power on Starz (new season starts next summer). He’s quite nice to look at and that ass speaks volumes. I know his wife is having the time of her life. Frankly, I’ll take looking at Mr. fine Omari over rapper 50 cent any day. So Omari, stay cool. Next June is a long time coming.

In truth,

Amanishakhete

 

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MURDER, SEX, DRUGS, PROFANITY—TOO REAL FOR THE YOUNG ADULT GENRE?

 

 

PRESS RELEASE

(Portland, Ore.) – Young adult fiction writer Boss Amanishakhete does not shy away from the controversy. Instead she takes it head on in her latest installment the Tippy Ellis Story 3 “Holla Me Bad,” where she’s passionate about creating fiction with characters to which today’s youth can relate.

This explosive new novel opens with 17-year-old LaTonya “Tippy” Ellis on the run from a malicious father who wants her committed to a mental health institution. Not because she’s crazy, but because he wants her $100 million dollar trust fund.

So then what is or who is Holla Me Bad? You’ll have to read the story to find out. But in short, it could reflect the attitude of anyone of the Tippy Ellis series characters, even though, the term is introduced by one. “Holla Me Bad ‘cause I’ma bad ass. Once you recognize you can’t help but to holla.”

Part 3 brings to light the sometimes painful, dark side of life that some adults wish to keep hidden or at least out of reach from teenage readers. Amanishakhete recognizes the power of words and self-imposed a notice to readers that she recommends her book for mature audiences 16 and up, but does not compromise on how kids really talk.

“I want young adult readers to see themselves in this story and feel validated,” says Amanishakhete, “that’s why I’ve created characters who act, talk, think and experience real life, not a sugar-coated version of adolescence. But at the same time I aim to present a variety of teachable moments for today’s young adults, especially young women.”

Amanishakhete joins other YA authors who challenge the belief that teens should be protected from exposure to certain language, content or subject matter by banning or censoring books. From bestselling authors to first time writers, they unite in favor of providing this fast-growing YA audience with true portrayals and real life experiences that mirror the lives of youth living in today’s information age.

Amanishakhete says her own colorful, adventurous and sometimes tragic life inspired her novels. “Holla Me Bad’s” edgy storyline engages both mature teens and adult audiences, as an African-American teen nicknamed “Tippy” finds herself without a voice, literally, when she suffers emotional and psychological trauma, resulting in her incapacity to speak. Estranged from the people who raised her, Tippy tries to make sense of things on her own, and fights to save who she is and shape who she will become. Foes make their moves and victims try to overcome the life-changing effects of murder, abuse and deceit.

Portland and Atlanta play the primary backdrop for the Tippy Ellis Story. This third installment dares to keep you on the edge of your seat while Tippy’s world unravels as she tries to hold on to the life she once knew. Even her BFF TiAnna lashes out. Then there’s Darius and Jeremy vying for her love. Remember daddy Robert T. Ellis? He’s got more surprises. Ask Unc Rae Rae. So who will be the last one standing?

“Holla Me Bad” Tippy Ellis Story 3 is on sale now at Amazon.com, Kindle eBook, Barnes & Noble and other electronic outlets. Stay in touch with Amanishakhete through her website and facebook, including information about book signings and book fairs at http://www.Ladybosswordsoul.me, http://www.tippyellis.me or Tippy’s Facebook page. For a media kit, to review a copy of the book, arrange an interview or book signing contact Lenora Daniels Media at ladybosswordsoul@gmail.com.

HOLLA ME BAD ISBN-13: 978-0615999777.

 

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Hate is a word I rarely use but…

In the case of House Speaker John Boehner announcing his plan to sue our President, I have to say I really hate the guy – John Boehner that is. I am sick of him and his racist cronies – the new GOP and Tea Partiers racist attitudes and who just hate the black guy in office.

Of course, it all goes back to the majority of the American people re-electing President Barack Obama. The new GOP and Tea Partiers couldn’t keep their promise to ensure “the black guy be a one-term President.” They tried to buy the election and give it to Mitt, but the will of the people won over the $400+ millions they spent to defeat him. Yes the will of the people – majority rules. But in this case, these racists say it doesn’t apply. What’s worse is Boehner claims he is doing the “will” of the American people. I wonder who he’s referring to? Certainly not me – a black independent woman. Certainly not gays and lesbians. Certainly not Latinos. Certainly not immigrants of color. So who’s left? The racists – those that call themselves the Tea Party and the NEW Republican party. And yes both of those parties include African Americans – oops they don’t want to identify with color  – they are racist too and also hate the black guy in office. They would have preferred a racist in office who admittedly grew up thinking black people were less than the bottom of his shoe. Now we have redneck Boehner suing over some bullshit. Suing because their methods to shut him down in his second term, simply ain’t working. Hey racist Boehner, the President has a Constitutional Law degree. So take your lawsuit and shove it.

So let me use the word I rarely use again – I HATE JOHN BOEHNER!  I HATE HIS CRONIES! I HATE THEM so much I am fired up and ready to go. I’m getting up off of my ass and standing my ground against you racists. And I am going to get everyone else fired up so we can make sure you don’t try to put black people back in chains, tell Latinos to self-deport, tell those without healthcare tough luck, tell the poor we don’t want you to succeed because we need slave labor, tell women to stay at home and submit and Asians that they don’t count.

We are done with you. Now it’s our time. The true will of the people to prevail!!! That means no more voting crazies in Congress. And definitely no Republican for President, including, Jeb Bush.

In truth

follow Boss Amanishakhete on Twitter

 

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Find our missing girls – bring them home

Like me, everyone should be outraged about the 300 schoolgirls recently kidnapped in Nigeria.

Over the past couple of days, we have heard many stories – the kidnappers claim they plan to sell the girls as child brides and for $12 each – to today’s news that the Nigerian government knew about the planned attack four hours before it happened.

Releasing this story is one thing but keeping it in the headlines (until we find them) takes all of us. This involves urging editors, journalists, elected-officials, public-at-large and the rest of us picking up a pen to write about it, calling the international community to action.

I am an advocate for stopping crimes against women and children, including domestic violence and sex trafficking. I often include these realisms in my fiction series as another avenue for moving these crimes to the forefront. Too, these incidences regularly remind me of my own life story – of what happened to me, friends and family.

Let’s keep this story in the headlines and all of our innocent girls in our hearts and minds from this day forward.

In truth,

Amanishakhete

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world/nigerian-kidnappers-trade-article-1.1784690

http://www.theskanner.com/news/world/21209-british-and-us-experts-to-help-find-kidnapped-nigerian-girls

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A dose of SuperSoul Sunday on OWN can put you in a better state of mind

newcoverDTEIf you are looking for something else to watch on television besides the debate on why George Zimmerman an adult got away with murdering Trayvon Martin a black child, I urge you to turn on the Oprah Winfrey channel OWN. OWN dubs Sundays as “Super Soul Sunday” and promotes inspiring messages from a variety of faiths, philosophers and motivational speakers. For that, I respect Oprah’s Sunday programming. It honors everyone’s spiritual core no matter what you believe, how you believe, or if you believe, or not.

As a writer of fiction novels I avoid watching a lot of television. But, when I do, I find the time spent watching OWN on Sundays uplifting. I am reminded of my purpose, which helps me to see myself and the world in a whole new light. It gives me hope that out of darkness the light will soon shine through the madness of yesterday’s verdict.

In the Diary of Tippy Ellis, readers will be introduced to a few different faiths and beliefs. However, the Diary of Tippy Ellis is not a faith based book where my heroine – LaTonya “Tippy” Ellis – will eventually be inspired to act on a particular religious message or join a particular discipline. My intent is to remain neutral when it comes to religion and how it affects my young heroine’s life.  Tippy is a teenager, and like other teenagers, she struggles with who she is and what she truly believes.

In that vein, the way in which I depict the introduction of religious beliefs hopefully won’t offend people because that was not my intent. Tippy’s experiences were inspired by how religion impacted my life as well as the many people around me.

An excerpt from the Diary of Tippy Ellis.

CHAPTER 42:  Big “B” Ain’t no joke

I knew this girl at school who got mixed up into voodoo. She once was a member of our church. I ran into her one day at the grocery store. She had on this long white garb with a white head wrap. So I figured she joined the Muslims. I don’t get why American women choose to wear archaic, oppressive head dress. Let Muslim men treat them like 2nd class citizens like in those Muslim countries. Paleeze. This is America – home of the brave, land of the free ladies!

When I ask her what’s up, she started talkin’ in some strange language, which didn’t sound like any foreign language I’m familiar with. So, it struck me kinda funny. I don’t know what made me say it, but I said, “Girl are you mixed up in voodoo?” She says yes and she’s getting ready to marry some high priest named Usari. Now I didn’t say nothing. I couldn’t. I thought I’d better be careful so she wouldn’t hex me or somethin’. She was looking kinda strange about the eyes, like she was lost.

I remember thinking, you crazy ass fool. Do you need a man that bad?

She was 30, single and I think a virgin. She always said she was praying for God to send her the right man. If God sent her Usari, I think he musta been joking. Maybe testing her or something. Whatever the case, all I could think of is how do I get the hell away from her?

Before I could walk away, she invites me to her wedding. I didn’t say yes or no. I just tell her, “Good luck” and turn to leave, but she tries to hug me. When she extended her arms I say to myself  “Uh, uh” might be a trick. They touch you and you hooked like crack – the one hit wonder. So I wave and high tail it outta there.

I mentioned this to TiAnna and Tommy Crumbs.

TiAnna says “Ooo girl.”

But Tommy, huh, he had a lot to say. He says at voodoo weddings they have snakes, rats, ferrets and other strange animals around on display. He says they drink blood and sacrifice one of the animals. Now I may not know a lot about voodoo hoodoos, but I think Tommy was referring to something he’d seen on television. I think I remember the movie he was describing.

At any rate, I did feel for the girl at first, then I thought why should I? Her choice. No need of me feeling bad. Just wouldn’t be my thing – to each his own.

Daddy would say, “Who are you to judge? Mind your business.”

Shonny’s waving too us…

Wanting us to join her in the back of the room. To get to her, we have to step around folks sitting in chairs.

When we reach her, she motions for us to sit. I hesitate. I just came to show her my hair and have no interest in sitting with the Buddhist people. Now I may be mad at the Big G, but I ain’t interested in following the Big B with the big belly.

Over the past several years Jesus has gone from looking like a long haired white hippy to a curly haired black man with a beard. So, when I’m ready I may go back to following the black guy – gotta support the black man.

But to chose between I’m a Christian or I’m Buddhist would be tough. My black friends would think I’m wacked. Now Daddy would say, “here she goes rebelling again.” He’d definitely call Dr. Ryan, and say, “Yeah Dr. Ryan, it’s so bad she ran all the way to Buddha.”

Lucinda sits in the empty chair next to Shonny who’s pulling on my wrist to sit down. I give her one of my irritated, “What the hell looks.” I hate it when people change the script and pull this kinda crap. We’ve gone from “Hey girl come show me your hair” to “Hey girl let’s chant to Buddha.”

So I sit on the floor but plan to leave real soon. I whisper in Shonny’s ear on my way down to the floor. I gotta get ready for my outing with my white boo. She smiles and nods.

I turn my attention to the group. This really dark, heavy set black guy is asking questions. His name is Paul and he looks to be around Unc Rae-Rae and daddy’s age. He says he’s not Buddhist and like me he’s irritated. He says Rosie begged him to come, who’s Buddhist. She’s been chanting for a year and has had good experiences.

Sitting next to him is this girl with black hair – wearing it long down to her chin on one side and shaved on the other side; her skin is white, white, white. That’s probably Rosie. She put her hand on his knee when he spoke while looking at him sideways, as if she wants to say something like, “I understand, but please don’t embarrass me.”

Rosie’s wearing a nose ring like a spike dike and a black tank top. It’s almost November for goodness sake. And those tattoos up and down her arms. She could be twins with the girl who played in the movie The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I can tell she’s younger than him and it kinda reminds me of daddy and Luanne. Like my daddy, he looks like an old fool, trying to be young. Look at ‘im with those Derrick Rose sweats and Tennis shoes – same outfit Jayden has. I guess he’ll be chanting soon so he can keep her.

He wants to know if they believe in God or Buddha?  Good question I think and one I would’ve asked if I cared.

Carole answers Paul’s question with a question, “What does God mean to you?”

Paul hunches his head back, surprised by her response. He shrugs. Carole doesn’t say anything, giving him time to answer. No one else says anything either. It got real spooky quiet there for a moment, until a little girl about five years old, who had her head down on her mama’s lap sleeping, woke up. Her head pops straight up.

Uh-oh. The sleeping giant awakes. I bet we’ll get some action now. She’s probably one of those bad kids like Jayden and Brittany, who whine and talk back to their mama. This little girl’s mama is white too. White kids act up and talk back to their parents. All their parents say back is “Now little Johnny, now little Sarah I’m gonna give you a time out” instead of whooping that ass.

Ha! Who am I to talk. Mama never spanked me. But I was an angel. Daddy did slap me – once – not too long ago because I got at his wifey. The devil had got in him, so I told Unc Rae-Rae. Daddy never hit me again.

The little girl decides not to act up and lays her head back down. Dammit. I was hopin’ for a show. Instead her mama begins to rub her hair and the side of her face.  Mama use to rub my head and face to help me get to sleep at night. She’d sing me a song while she was doing it: Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep my baby child. One little horsey, two little sheep, go to sleep my baby child.

Ugh! It’s getting stuffy with those damn incense burning. Shonny must’ve read my mind; she gets up and switches on the fan. Shit! Just my luck! It’s blowing from behind me, messing up my flat iron. I grab the back of my head shielding what I can of my hair from the monsoon. What is wrong with the girl? Just ‘cause she decides to wear her hair in an old school afro, doesn’t mean she should hate. I mean, didn’t she just have braids?

I get up and move to the far side of the room furthest from the door. Better than having to kill somebody over my $150 do – without the tip.

Paul say something. Be a man. Aw paleeze. This is way too much.

So I blurt out, “God is suppose be omnipotent be there when you need him, when you can’t fight the battle yourself. Not abandon you in your time of need. Allow your mama to be murdered and the person who did it get away. Let someone you just meet who has a heart of gold get gunned down in front of you and get away again. Your BFF gets kidnapped, raped, drugged and left for dead and God lets the person who started it, get away. When the man you love disappears and doesn’t tell you why but God let’s you suffer and wonder. When your daddy’s suppose to comfort and protect you but he allows himself to be controlled by his devil wife. God lets it happen again and again.”

I end my speech with, “So what does God mean to me? Nothing!”

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Trayvon Martin found guilty of walking while black

Trayvon-Martin-protesters-march-in-Sanford-4I182P5A-x-largeMillions of people are shocked and outraged about today’s verdict: George Zimmerman was found not guilty of murdering Trayvon Martin.

I, on the other hand, knew Zimmerman would get off.  Let’s face it, Florida is a Republican state where it is legal to “stand your ground.” This means that most Floridians – except for the black ones – can kill anyone if they are in fear of their lives. In this case, Zimmerman stood his ground and got away with murder. And the prosecutors made it easier for him to do just that. The big smile on the face of Florida State Attorney Angela Corey at the press conference following the trial said it all. They put on a good show but screwed things up so Zimmerman walks.

When all is said and done, Zimmerman was not the one on trial. It was Trayvon Martin who stood trial over the past several months. He like other black males, dead or alive, was profiled, demoralized and criminalized because of the color of his skin. And the media with the help of Zimmerman’s friends, lying neighbors and defense team did an excellent job turning another black male into a scary, menacing criminal who “must be got before they get you.” Murdering a black man is justified so, in their eyes, Zimmerman is a hero. The media supports this image by promoting the “let’s feel sorry for Zimmerman” fanfare taking place right now on all the racist news channels.

So let’s remember this day July 13, 2013. A day in which we are reminded about an unequal and racists criminal justice system. A day when society was told, yet again, that it is okay to be suspicious of all black men because they are all criminals. Black men have no civil rights, therefore, people can fear them, profile them, follow them and kill them dead! And get away with it!

Heed the words to Boss Amanishakhete’s Murder 2012 (CD can be purchased on CD Baby and Itunes).

Another black brotha’ murdered, he’s dead!  Setting the tone for Murder 2012, he’s dead! Causing melee on top of the already disrespect of another brotha’ whose position demands our respect. Yet they dare tell us chill, with a pill deal in Murder 2012, prepare black brothas to fry. Hate-mongers don’t want you to survive. They bait you, hate you, degrade you, stalk you, mock you, with skittles and ice tea’d hoodies telling you run, fight back, either way you can’t hide – die. The brotha’ they called coon was doomed with the devil near lurking, smirking, jerking him on to fail. No bail brotha’ they took you straight to hell burning you in flames, no chance for a last breath you took your last step – yep. Your death is on their bloody hands.

The pain, the pain, the pain with no gain he pain, the pain, the pain it’s driving me insane. To fall with our heads held down, our hands held bound in fear of their lock and load will kill us dead.

IN murder 2012; We’d better pray. ‘cause

Hate, drinks, creamed tea, uses right to wrong. campaigns defame and blame a free world leader.  A believer in humanity and justice making good in the neighborhoods.  Haters want to kill, kill him dead claiming second amendment, stand your ground with bullets astound, hound, bound Nubian kings and queens, hating, bating, degrading, there’s no speculating in Murder 2012.  A black brotha’s worth pays the cost for the help of a new black Jack who bribes, lies, defies for the sake of cream-tea and right wing-dings. He’s a doomed coon too who helps defend, pretend and even comprehend disguising another brotha’s demise – once again!

Oh NO the pain, the pain, the pain with no gain?  No the pain, the pain, won’t drive me insane. No we refuse to fall with our heads held down, our hands held bound. No we fear not your lock and load we will not die.

No more murder 2012; no more…

Say Yo — hate is destroying our planet; our humanity. Those creamed tea right wind-dinged racists say they want to take their country back BUT from whom?  What God made them humanity’s gift?  What God permitted them to have dominion over the rest of us?

You see there’s this thing called the United States Constitution “WE the People.”  Our Bill of Rights grants all of us equality…

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men and women are created equal. They are endowed by their Creator with certain un-alien-able rights that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

 Trayvon…  Rest in peace

 

 

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If you had a gun would you scream for help?

The “George Zimmerman murdered Trayvon Martin trial” should be an open and shut case. But because a young black man – a 17-year-old – was gunned down, certain factions of our society want to make Trayvon out to be the bad guy.

The Bottom Line

George should have stayed in the car. If he would have done what the 911 operator told him to do “don’t follow him” Trayvon Martin would still be alive. But Zimmerman ignored the 911 operator; he got out of his car and followed Trayvon with the intent to make sure this black teen did not get away – because as he put it “they always get away.”

Trayvon Martin was on his way home. He had no weapon except for his Skiddles and ice tea. Yet the George Zimmerman fan club insists it was Trayvon’s fault. They want us to believe Trayvon had no right to defend himself and that Zimmerman who was carrying a loaded gun was screaming for help.

Question: If you had a gun to defend yourself would you scream for help?
Answer: NO!
Question: If someone was pointing a gun at you, what would you do?
Answer: I would scream for help and defend myself even if it meant bashing the perpetrator’s head into the ground and smashing his nose.

As the prosecutor put it, “One person is dead and the other one is a liar.”

View the Murder 2012 video by Boss Amanishakhete on Youtube
Murder 2012

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