America The Beautiful

America the Beautiful, a powerful documentary that explores America's obsession with beauty recently won the Special Jury Prize for Best Representation of the UN Declaration for the Rights of a Child at the Chicago International Children's Film Festival.

This acclaim comes just weeks after winning The Special Jury Prize for Best Director at the 43rd Annual Chicago International Film Festival.

Directed by Darryl Roberts, this outstanding documentary is sweeping the film festival circuit.

I caught the film at the Chicago International Film Festival and it is one of the most profound docs I've ever seen. Roberts, in a Michael Moore-like expose, navigates the pristine beauty world, making his way to backstage runways and plastic surgeons offices, and reveals the cruel and calculated underworld that guides America's favorite obsessions. He shadows a cast of beauty industry fixtures including a precocious teen model and plastic surgeons top rated TV shows. But he also interviews the parents of a young girl who died of bulimia, researchers with jaw dropping stories about the chemicals in cosmetics, and a bevy of super sexist guys.

Roberts said it took him some three years to complete this project and its well worth the wait. For more info and upcoming shows check www.americathebeautifuldoc.com

My Sister for President

The current political frustrations and violent attacks surrounding Pakistan's former President Benazir Bhutto had me thinking about women leaders of the world.

And while I knew very little about Ms. Bhutto until recent weeks, it amazes me that Pakistan, viewed in the Western world as a largely conservative nation, at one point had a female leader and is in negotiations to have her resume her leadership.

With Hilary Clinton currently waging a major campaign to be the nation's first president, I was curious about other women currently heading the world's nations.

For as progressive as the U.S may be on women's rights, Pakistan elected a female president first.

So I did a little research.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Chile, Finland, India, Ireland, Liberia, The Philippines and Switzerland are the only seven countries that currently have women presidents.

Meanwhile, Germany, New Zealand, Mozambique and The Netherlands Antilles are the only four nations with female prime ministers.

As for the world's reigning three queens, they can be found in Denmark, the United Kingdom and The Netherlands.

I wonder what dynamics exist in these nations that gave rise to a female leadership?

Perhaps we should look into it.

Affirmative Action is the Antichrist

I know a 21 year old African American college student who hasn't so much as looked up Affirmative Action in Wikipedia, and yet he professes that AA is the downfall of black progress.

We've had heated conversations in which I and a few of my colleagues called ourselves schooling this guy, and dousing him in African American history 101 to 500.

Yet he's firm in his beliefs: Affirmative Action is the Antichrist.

When I patiently explained to him basic American power structures and how historically they could not be cracked by people of color or women, he remarked. "Why can't you just marry into some super rich guys family, then you'll be part of the power structure, right?"

After that jolt of misguided logic, I told him not to talk to me about affirmative action ever again until he's read some books.

Now, I could dismiss the conversation as the rantings of the ignorant, except for one tiny problem.

He wants to go to law school.

And thanks to affirmative action's reigning problem child, Supreme Court Judge Clarence Thomas, who's now working the media circus with book in tow, I can no longer discount the twisted conservative logic of a misguided black college kid with law school dreams.

He might become a Supreme Court Justice and dedicate his life to chipping away my rights.

And he might read Mr. Thomas' book.

So I've decided to tell him about a University of Michigan study that states that college students who come in through affirmative action get consistently higher grades than legacy kids (those who came in on their parents merit). In fact, they were typically very good students who lead healthy academic lives.

It's the empirical data the world's been waiting on, to prove that Affirmative Action is not some hand out. It creates opportunity for good students.

Hopefully, this study will mean something to him.

And if it doesn't, God help us all.

Yard Sale: Designer Vaginas

Hey ladies, do you want a designer vagina?

Thanks to those socially conscious mavericks known as the plastic surgery business, not only can ladies of the world get DD breasts, pursed lips, eyelids to the forehead and soar derrieres, we can also add the all new designer vagina to our shopping list.

We can enlarge our clitoris, enlarge or minimize our labia, shorten the vagina, and if you want the virgin experience, an all new hymen is just the thing for you!

Let me say, if there is some medical case for the surgery, by all means get it. If your religion forbids sex before marriage, and you could be killed for entering the vows of matrimony as a virgin plus, then the new hymen is a life saver.

Otherwise, I seriously ask women thinking about this topic to ask the following.

What the heck is a perfect vagina?

One British study I read reported that women who agreed to the study unanimously had an image of a prepubescent look that resembled American porn mags, with most bringing in magazine cut outs of porn stars and the like who had clearly been digitally altered. The study further blasted the cosmetic industry for a lack of research and patient follow up as well as an justifiable reason for the risky procedure in the first place.

Risks include lack of arousal and a variety of complications.

In my reading on the topic, most of the ladies interviewed who agreed to the surgery aren't resolving severe health issues. Many were insecure types who thought the designer vagina would make them more appealing to men. Others thought it was the miracle cure for a drab sex life. One woman remarked it would keep her husband from cheating, saying something like, and I paraphrase, 'my husband said sex with me now is like sex with someone else, but it's still me.'

Wow.

In my totally unscientific poll, I asked a few guys what they thought about the designer vagina, since men were listed as the reason most women wanted it in the first place. They weren't pleased.

"That's the last straw," yelled one southside Chicago guy, totally offended by the idiocracy of it all. "Tell women this," he said, steam rising from his nostrils. "Any man who tells their woman to get a designer vagina or leads her to think she needs one doesn't like her . . .at all. And she needs to leave him immediately."

Thanks.

I have to thank Hermene Hartman's N'digo column for bringing this topic to the forefront.

Attack of the America Bra

There's something wrong when bras become matters of national security.

When trained security can't tell the difference between a bomb, bra hooks and under wire, you know we're in trouble.

While most citizens willingly take off their shoes, belt buckles, jackets, and submit to unfavorable pat downs by the flocks of security at our nation's airports and federal buildings, at some point, we must admit enough is enough.

Lori Plato said enough was enough after U.S. Marshalls Service employees demanded that she remove her bra after the undergarment ignited alarms at a federal building.

The building had no screen or changing room. When she asked if she could change in a rest room, she was told no, and urged to remove it in a nearby restaurant. Her husband shielded her with his coat and she removed the offending garment.

This news was announced the same day, a woman I know called me in tears, stating that airport security demanded she remove her long lined bra. The security officer said the traveler's bra was in the way of the traditional pat down and demanded that she disrobe behind an open screen in full view of employees and passengers. When the traveler called for management, she was told that the guard was "incorrect", and that she simply needed to unhook the bottom of the bra, for a less invasive procedure. But by this time, the traveler was so humiliated by the guard's cavalier attitude and sheer possibility, that this reassurance didn't matter.

There's something wrong when guards feel comfortable enough to demand that a woman drop her underwear in order to enter a secure facility. To know that some security get a kick out of disrobing random women at will is a real problem. The inconsiderate nature of the demand speaks to a false sense of empowerment some security professionals apparently enjoy.

So ladies, if a guard orders you to take off your bra, sue their pants off.

The Golden Rule or the Tuareg Cross of Agadez?

Africa is such an expansive continent, with hundreds of cultures, languages and subgroups, that it's a little off putting when someone lumps them all in one.

While oversimplification might make for digestable nostalgia about black history and the world, we miss the incredible cultural lessons, the richness in diversity, and the essence of the people themselves when we resort to such ridiculous limitations.

So I've made it a mission of mine, to go beyond the do good rhetoric of those who claim they're blanketly raising money for Africa, or this school will be built in Africa, or this necklace was made in Africa, and asking for some details. "Where in Africa?" What ethnic group?" "What does this mean?" and so on.

The other day, I stopped by an African jewelry shop in Washington D.C's Adams Morgan. I surveyed the counter and was captivated by a large silver onkh-like pendant, boxed in triangles on a necklace. It had decorative etchings, and was very ethereal and old world. So I asked the owner about it.

He said it was made by the Tuareg people of Mali. The Tuareg also know as the Blue People because of their indigo rich clothing, are a Berber ethnic group. The Berbers were a nomadic culture known for their artisanship and business savvy, and credited for the sophisticated trading systems across the Sahara and in the Mediterranean hundreds of years ago. The Tuaregs primarily reside in West and North Africa.

The piece in question was the Cross of Agadez, a Tuareg version of the Egyptian anhk, meaning it expressed life, the balance between male and feminine energy in creation. As for the triangle shapes that bound it, they symbolized the four corners of the world. "When a child grows up and decides to go out on their own, the parents give this to them," the shop owner said. "It's a reminder that no matter where they go, or what corner of the earth they travel to, they should always be kind to people. They should treat others the way they want to be treated."

What a nice bit of wisdom to send someone off with. As a people who've historically travelled to foreign lands, I thought it was also a very peaceful approach to life.

It made me wonder which came first, the biblical golden rule or the ankh inspired Tuareg Cross of Agadez?

The shop owner added that the Tuareg were also called "The Veiled People." The men were known for wearing ornate but heavy veils. While most assumed it was to protect them from the sandstorms of the Sahara, the shop owner said it symbolized something else. "They believe that the spoken word has so much power that its best to cover your mouth to prevent you from saying anything foul," he said. He also added that for the Tuereg people, it's fundamentally more important to cover your mouth than any other area of your body.

But the Tuaregs are one of thousands of cultures, many with old world roots who've accrued pearls of wisdom over the ages. While much of this wisdom probably influenced the philosophers or religions we know today, the cultures that gave rise to or were influenced by it are rarely discussed.

I didn't buy the cross. The guy was charging $120 for it. But I found some online for $20 bucks. Even a bit of wisdom can be found at a discount.

O.J for Breakfast, O.J for Lunch, O.J for Dinner

Forgive me for wasting ink on this matter, but I can't take another O.J trial.

Which is probably fine by the Juice, because I'm sure he's not amped about going through another trial either.

This hyper analyzation of celebrity downfalls and the way their dilemmas are plastered across the airwaves as must-know news is truly bewildering.

And the looped tape of O.J's muffled vocals demanding that no one leave is repeated like a yogi mantra.

Or a brainwashing sect.

Is O.J's new felony conviction more newsworthy than the Jena 6?

Is Marsha Clark's new face lift more important than the one million Africans in the western and eastern regions displaced by the recent flood? Or the hundreds estimated to have died? Did you even know there was a devestating flood in the region?

No, but I'm sure you've been fully informed that Simpson's controversial book "If I Did It " (which Ron Goldman's family owns the right to) was released just days before this debacle.
And how timely, because Beauford Books is releasing a second issue.

Great.

So forgive me for joining the circus fray. At least I didn't include a photo.

Goodbye Tampons, Hello Diva Cup?

Tampons. Check. Pantyliners. Check. Heavy flow pads. Check. Light flow pads. Check. Adhesive heating pads. Check. Oh, and Pamprin, Midol and Tylenol. Check. Check. Check.

All the necessities of nature's wonder crammed into that oh so cute Prada knock off.

But there is an entire world of alternative menstrual products that most women are unaware of.

Pick up Bust, Bitch, Ms. or any of the feminist mags on the stands and there's always an ad for for Lunapads.com.

Lunapads is a Canadian based company that makes an array of alternative products including reusable multi-colored pads and pantyliners, padded underwear and diva cups, a reusable silicone menstrual cup inserted like a tampon.

The benefits of these, and most alternative products, is that they are reusable, in some cases up over a year and can cut monthly expenses. They are also eco friendly.

Commercial tampons are usually made of rayon. They contain other chemicals, bleaching agents, gels to boost absorbency and perfumes. The absorbency agents can soak in natural moisture and increase the risk of toxic shock syndrome. Most tampons are not biodegradable.

On the other hand, Diva Cups are made from a form of silicone that is 100% hypoallergenic, has antibacterial properties, is latex-free and odorless. Because it's duct-like cup catches flow, no absorbency agents are needed.

And there are other products like Natracare's 100% cotton tampons and pads, which pride themselves on being eco friendly and natural.

Other companies provide sea sponges as tampon substitutes.

Those who like the products say they feel more comfortable and feel more in touch with their bodies.

Its good to know there are options out there.

For more info on lunapads and Diva cups go to http://www.lunapads.com/

Pull Up Your Pants or Sleep in the Slammer

Yet another city has made baggy pants public enemy number one.

Trenton New Jersey councilwoman Annette Lartigue is drafting a proposal to make it a crime to wear sagged pants as well.

This comes after last month's ban proposal in Atlanta, which includes criminalizing publicly worn sports bras. Meanwhile, Delcambe, a city in Louisiana has already approved a fine of $500 or six months in jail for sagging, too.

As a person who was a teenager when the whole baggy pants edict came into vogue in the early 90s, I have to admit that I find all of this a bit ridiculous.

Most hip-hop inspired kids in the 90s bought oversized pants to contrast the ultra tight spandex fashions that reigned. The pants sagged by default because they were too just too big. You couldn't buy baggy pants in your size because there were none. Then designer underwear came in vogue, and what better way to show them off than with your sagging size 22 Levis.
At some point, designers caught on, and the likes of FUBU and Karl Kani, began to make loose pants that actually fit in the waist, too.

Now people like to say that this style was an offshoot of the prison culture where prisoners couldn't wear belts. Perhaps so, but most people wearing this style are not consciously mimicking the styles of jailed criminals.

I guess some politicians are determined that they share that fate, anyway.

Every generation at some point had a style that parents hated. I'm sure my grandparents weren't thrilled about my dad's looming Afro in the 60s, and my Mississippi born grandma claimed her own father wouldn't let her wear these new sex enablers called swimsuits to the county pond in the 30s.

This is just another excuse to upgrade the police harressment of teenagers and young adults, most of whom are people of color, and find new ways for the city to make money off of them. I don't know if the legislators who are waving the banner of the anti sag care about this fact, or if they sincerely hope that jail time will curb a trend they'd rather see burn at the public stake, either way I'd hate for ticket happy cops to be scoping parks and school yards waiting for an unassuming kid in lowriders to bend over.

As for the trend itself, my biggest beef is that it's still around. I mean baggy, sagging jeans have been around for over a decade now. And despite the emerging fashionistas and new school designers in tow, some refuse to let the trend die.

But if the asymmetrical and the mohawk can make a comeback and wide flair jeans can sit beside boot cut denim in peace, then baggy, sagging jeans have their place in fashion history, too as the first fad to be banned across the nation.

Call it true renegade fashion. So cool, they'll put you in jail for wearing it. Totally, antiestablishment. Now that's a marketing angle.

My Night with the Dhoad Gypsies

I saw the Dhoad Gypsies of Rajasthan last Friday.

And you're probably thinking, 'who are the Dhoad Gypsies?'

I didn't know who they were either until five minutes before the show, seated at the Museum of Contemporary Art for the World Music Festival in Chicago, a hostess handed me the show plugger and I read their bio. I was there, in part to support a spiritual empowerment group I'm a part of, LIFE, which is on a new adventurist mission and picked this as our fall kick off gathering, and in part to satisfy my eclectic leanings which the World Music Festival will always satisfy.

The Dhoad Gypsies are from the Thar Desert, an area in the north western Indian province of Rajasthan. Rajasthan is actually the ancient homeland of gypsies and the mythic travelling caravans of musicians and troubadours who hopped from town to town, across Asia, the Middle East, Africa and Europe entertaining both royalty and commoners. The Dhoad Gypsies consider themselves to be heirs of these ancient traditions of artists and Friday was their U.S Debut.

After watching an exciting performance by a Chicago group called Lamajamal featuring their self coined "gypsy surfer," music a combo of Middle Eastern, European and African folk music punctuated with electric guitars circa 60s acid rock, I was, pretty much open to anything.

I've always been fascinated by the similarities between Middle Eastern, African, and Indian music. I'm equally as fascinated by the subtle relationships between the dance styles and instruments. The poetic hand movements in Spanish flamenco are identical to that in belly dancing. Belly dancing is a clear derivitive of traditional African dance. The percussion in belly dancing songs and the use of the tabla has the same rhythms as that in African dance.

I say this to say, that I shouldn't have been too surprised when the opening music of the Dhoud Gypsies, a rousing 16 count solo on the tablas, a Hindustani drum in classical music was very much like West African drumming circles. The drumming was extremely hypnotic, and the veracity that they rhythmically thumped their fingers and palms echoed with a distant familiarity that sent my mind.

In addition to an assortment of percussion instruments, they played a variety of instruments I'd never seen before. One, known in Rajasthan as the morhang, also known as the jews harp and some 40 other names across the globe, was one of the funniest looking instruments I'd ever seen. Its essentially a metal or bamboo reed attached to a tiny frame that's held in your mouth. The mouth as it opens and closes serves as a resonator for the sound as your finger plucks the reed. But this funny little instrument is unusually loud and sounds like the droning grooves a guitarist plunks and thumps in 70s style music. Its one of the oldest instruments in the world, and according to my research, its eery sound is associated with magic. The guy in the band who played the instrument, had all the swooning charisma of a lead guitarist in a funk band, which was amusing because, he was banging away on the morshang.

But no one topped the group's fakir, an Arabic word for a Sufi who performs feats of endurance. My words will only pale in comparison to actually witnessing what I saw; a petite man, among other things, balancing four glasses stacked on top of one another on his head, with a gigantic ceramic jug of water atop the glasses. And he danced as he balanced them. At one point he balanced the glasses and jug while dancing on top of a bed of rusty nails. Another time he balanced a three foot wooden wheel that must have weighed 50 pounds on top of a metal glass which was on top of his head and he kept dancing, shaking his hips and working the floor, like it was nothing more than a baseball cap. Totally unreal. Oh, did I mention, that he took sticks of fire and rubbed them up and down his skin in between swallowing the fire and spitting it out into a looming fire ball? It was truly unbelievable, and I wish I had more friends with me who could have witnessed it.

Last weekend, at the UNCF walkathon , I managed to balance a tiny box of business cards on my head as I walked for at least four blocks. But this guy put my amateur balancing act to shame. One of my friends who was fortunate enough to witness the fakir at work, remarked that after watching the Dhoud Gypsies, we're, and he included me in his summation, are really half stepping when it comes to maximizing our potential. We thought we were okay just running along the lake and taking a kung fu class every now and then. Clearly, we haven't even scratched the surface.

But the enchanting nature of the Dhoud Gypsies did make me wonder what other exciting feats and performance styles were lost over the centuries, particularly those that came out of Africa.

Nevertheless, I'm inspired. The Dhoud Gypsies give us a window into yesteryear while forging a bridge to our future potential.

So instead of balancing one book on my head and walking around my house for kicks, I guess its time to pile on two. And if I could balance two books while doing Soldier Boy's "Superman" . . . now that would be enchanting.

Sol Pop and Y?

I started Sol Pop because it just dawned on me that the same issues that rattled me five years ago, when I considered myself to be a neophyte journalist scraping my way up the media/entertainment ladder, the concerns I figured somebody would address at some point, have still gone unanswered. It still amazes me that the voice of young people of color is noticeably missing from mainstream rants, that pundit humor has replaced news, that gossip reigns over logic, and that anything witty that can't be condensed to a soundbite just isn't newsworthy anymore.

I've been restless these last few days. Something about the anniversary of 9/11, the still unresolved catastophe that led us into this war we can't get out of, those dogged conspiracy theories floating in the air, the crispness in what should be warmth lingering from a summer I don't want to end, and the the fact that despite my full fledged awareness that this Kanye vs. 50 hype is a big money backed campaign chucked up to get me promoting their cds in random conversations pro bono. And despite the logic angel that tells me my mind is being twisted by the publicity monster, sabatoged by the marketing machine, screaming that Kanye vs. 50 isn't more important than say the Jena 6 or recycling, that I'm as caught up in the frenzy as a 15 year old kid.

Some people wait til the New Year for this rigid self assessment, I kick things off after Labor Day.

In my college moments, I had an inkling to start a magazine that would talk about social issues, have a literary twist, and still be in touch with pop culture. And while I pinned my hopes to many a fair venture,most of which took a sea ottor styled nose dive, some years later this magazine didn't exist because I hadn't created it. The voices of the young, inquisitive adult still doesn't make mainstream beat junkies and a whole lifestyle of active thinking people lives below the radar. So this blog is my foray into Sol Pop, a fresh twist on real issues for fun people who relish in thought provoking moments.

Call me giddy, but I'm pretty doggone excited, and I hope that you will enjoy the ride as well. So live life, learn daily, and question the obvious. I don't do milk, but sol growth is good for the heart.