Samsung was first to mobile VR, but Google’s Daydream View headset beat it to motion controls. Now, the Korean electronics giant is fighting back with the Gear VR controller. And, with a bit of help from Oculus, it’s even managed to outdo Google when…
Last year’s Galaxy S7 and S7 Edge were excellent phones, and so was the Galaxy Note 7… until it started bursting into flames. While some within Samsung were tasked with figuring out what happened and how to prevent it from happening again, others w…
Now that Android Pay is gaining steam around the world two years after its debut, it’s become a convenient way to check out without reaching for your credit or debit card. For people who don’t have plastic, however, making use of Android Pay just go…
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We’ve been debunking fake photos at Gizmodo since 2013, but in the year 2017, the fakes seem to be spreading online faster than ever. Here are just a few of the images we’ve seen swirling around the internet lately. And none of them are what they appear to be at first glance.
One of the coolest things in Guardians of the Galaxy is the retro soundtrack that Peter Quill plays on an old ’80s Sony TPS-L2 Walkman. If you missed the ’80s, you can still get one without having to resort to eBay. Sorta. This gadget may look vaguely like Star-Lord’s portable cassette player, but alas it’s not a real Walkman.
This Phony Fauxman is not made by Sony, and it doesn’t play cassette tapes. It’s actually a small speaker that’s designed to play your music from whatever device you carry, like MP3 players and smartphones. You have to plug in your audio source via its audio jack though. It’s too bad it doesn’t support Bluetooth. It has digital voice recording capability and can transform your voice too. It’s also got the song Come a Little Bit Closer – from the Guardians Vol. 2 soundtrack built in.
While it’s nothing like the real deal, it does sell for way less than the crazy $500+ prices people are asking for on eBay for an original TPS-L2 Walkman. The Star-Lord Walkman is available for $29.99(USD) from ThinkGeek.
Today is a big day for Google Earth, as Google has delivered a large update that adds a lot of new features. In fact, the update is so big and packs in so many features that Google is prompted to call it “the new Google Earth.” Indeed, there’s a lot to explore, so let’s get down to it. Perhaps one … Continue reading
In the cat and mouse game between Samsung and Apple, the user is the real winner, and never has that been so apparent as with the new Samsung Galaxy S8. Undoubtedly the most eagerly-anticipated Android smartphone of 2017, the Galaxy S8 is Samsung’s first big opportunity to put the Note 7 battery debacle behind it, and instead wow consumers with … Continue reading
“Never in my life have I read a book so filled with self-hatred. Can’t believe I made it all the way through. The author’s obsession with white men is troubling.”
Ouch. That’s a recent one-star Amazon review of my book Is It True What They Say About Black Men?: Tales of Love, Lust and Language Barriers on the Other Side of the World. You know what they say about criticism: A single scathing assessment stands out in one’s mind more than a dozen glowing ones.
This one, though, didn’t say anything new – nor did it make me second guess my work. He read the entire book. Clearly it’s not my work he finds offensive. It’s me.
Alas, he’s not alone. His commentary resonates like a broken record that’s been on repeat as long as I’ve been writing about sexual racism: Apparently, as a black man, I owe it to myself and to black men everywhere to date inside my race only. Imagine the uproar that would ensue if a white person dared to utter such stick-with-your-own-kind nonsense to another white person. He or she would be nailed to the proverbial cross.
Frankly, as a gay black man, I’m over the presumptions of self-hatred. Of all the things I would change about myself if I could, being gay and being black are not two of them. I consider both to be badges of honor. They’ve made me who I am, and I couldn’t love me more. That said, there are nights when I go to bed and dream of waking up the next morning and experiencing 24 hours in which my race isn’t a factor in pretty much every aspect of my gay life, from who hits on me to who doesn’t.
That’s right. It’s not just about who doesn’t want me. I write about sexual racism from the point of view of someone who is regularly pursued because of my skin color and has never been outright rejected because of it. Like people of every color, I have no control over who pursues me. If I dated black men only, many of my stories would be the same.
But then, I would have missed out on the Asian men and Latino men I’ve dated and been with while living outside of the United States. They probably wouldn’t appreciate being lumped in with the white men I allegedly “obsess” over. One of them carried scars from being a darker-skinned South American and therefore, in the eyes of his family and community, inferior, to his more European-/white-looking brother.
I’ve been loudly critical of people who adopt hierarchies of skin color and those who banish entire races and ethnicities from their dating and sexing pool. I stand by everything I’ve written. But that’s different from telling people what color their boyfriends should be. Boyfriend shaming wasn’t cool when Carrie Bradshaw’s therapist did it (in the Sex and the City episode where the heroine hooked up with a hunk who looked a lot like Jon Bon Jovi), and it’s even more infuriating when total strangers do it.
For the record, ruling in or ruling out someone based solely on race and putting it in writing on Grindr, or wherever, is racist. So is telling a black man that he’s less of a person and full of self-hatred because he’s not dating other black men.
The great irony here is that a white man who dates interracially will often be regarded as colorblind and progressive, whether it’s by active choice or simply by chance. But where would they be without men of other races who would date them? If I must date in my own lane, does that mean white, Asians, Latinos, Jews, Arabs, etc., need to as well? How is this brand of romantic segregation any more acceptable than other forms of racial segregation?
For those who think dating within your race will make you luckier in love, look around. Non-interracial couples don’t necessarily stay together forever. And black men are not the ultimate romantic saviors, my mother and sister can attest to that. Dating them may change the racial dynamics of my relationships, but the racial dynamics of my relationships have been just fine.
I’ve never been physically or mentally abused by a non-black boyfriend. The relationships may not have worked out, but race has never been a factor in any of my breaks-ups. And I do not buy the argument that black men will “get me” more than white men will. Yes, they may be able to better understand my experiences as a black man, but my experiences as a black man are not all there is to me. There’s so much more to a healthy loving relationship than mutual understanding of what it’s like to be a certain color.
And there’s no guarantee a black man would even understand my specific experiences with racism and discrimination, which, ironically enough, began not with white people but with black people. The first time I ever heard the N-word, in first grade, a black classmate was hurling it at me – and not in the “N―-a” sense. I instinctively knew it was something bad, and when I asked what he meant, he told me it was a word for tall people.
Despite growing up in Kissimmee, Florida, a hotbed of racism in the ’70s and ’80s, it was the black kids, not the white kids, who picked on me incessantly and beat me up after school because of my strange Caribbean accent. (I was born in the U.S. Virgin Islands.) They said I talked funny, too proper, like I thought I was better than they were. I had to be put in my place.
Every time I read a critique slamming me because of my white dating history, I flash back to the black schoolyard bullies who, were they around today, would probably concur. Racism and discrimination against me by white people and by black people – especially by black people – defined my formative years. So excuse me if I don’t feel a magical connection to black men just because they’re black.
That doesn’t mean I couldn’t fall in love with one. I’ve been with black men, and while I’ve yet to give my heart to one, I’d never rule it out the way all those people on Grindr rule out Asians, citing “preference.” I must admit, thought, that my past looms over my present. My experiences with black Americans changed considerably in college when I started regularly meeting black people my age who didn’t give me side-eye and a fist, but damage had been done. Although I no longer harbor the fear I had when I was growing up, my early black-on-black experiences still affect me on some level.
During my high-school days, back when I was still facing off with black bullies, my brother and my sister had a big blow out over the white girls he kept dating. My sister considered it an insult to her, to our mother, and to black women everywhere.
Fast forward decades. My brother has been happily married for more than 13 years to a woman, a black woman, with whom he shares three children. On the day of their wedding, my sister’s longest and most successful relationship had been with a white man, a lovely guy who never broke her heart – unlike pretty much every black boyfriend preceding him.
The moral of this story: Love and let love, free of judgement, without limits.
— This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.
Maxine Waters stood before a crowd of young people Friday at Busboys and Poets, a Washington, D.C., restaurant that doubles as stomping ground for social movements. At the event, which she organized as a soulful open mic before the following day’s Tax March, the congresswoman doubled down on her call for the impeachment of President Donald Trump with a combined bluntness and realness one wouldn’t expect from a politician: “We’ve got to stop his ass!”
The 78-year-old’s outspokenness has made her a viral sensation. She caught millennials’ attention nationwide when she stormed out of a press conference after a meeting with FBI Director James Comey, saying that he had “no credibility.” Waters kept their attention and fanfare as she’s continuously led the congressional resistance against Trump, calling for impeachment and condemning his actions.
After nearly 40 years in public service, Waters, the most senior black woman in Congress, has become the Democratic face for the resistance against Trump. Though her approval has always been strong among her constituents, earning more than 70 percent of her respective district’s vote since 1990, her no-nonsense tone has resonated with younger folks nationwide. Since the election, her Twitter following has skyrocketed from about 33,000, as noted by Mashable, to more than 300,000.
Black millennials especially feel a familiarity with Waters. She’s not the everyday politician who sugarcoats her message of opposition in order not to ruffle too many feathers.
Quite frankly, she’s not one to play with. She’s the point, the blank and the period. And just like a black auntie who notices you running in and out of her house, letting the AC out, she’ll set you straight ― thus the moniker Auntie Maxine.
That’s not by chance. A village of black women raised Waters to be the unapologetic powerhouse that she is today, starting with her mother, Velma Lee Carr Moore.
Moore raised her 13 children in St. Louis. The family lived on welfare. Moore wasn’t educated but she was an outspoken “survivor,” according to Waters. Their family may have been poor, but Moore offered her children something invaluable: the right to their voices.
“She did not raise us with the kind of subtleties that, I suppose, oftentimes parents raise their children with,” Waters told The Huffington Post. “They don’t want them to get into trouble, they want them to be mindful of whatever they say, they want them to be quiet even when they have an opinion because having that opinion may get you in trouble. I didn’t have that.”
Waters’ teachers, mostly black women, helped mold her, too, by spending extra time after school mentoring her. They encouraged her to join speaking clubs and human relations clubs, and helped with her and her siblings when her mom had to handle other things.
“I had some strong black teachers. I had one teacher who I could stay [with] after school, teach [me] to play the piano,” she said. “One teacher who lived in the community, very strong woman, very strong math teacher, who would come to our house on Saturdays to help everybody to go to a picnic with the other kids because my mother had so many kids and she washed her hair and stuff on Saturday.”
Waters’ teachers helped shape her worldview.
Outside of the classroom, young Maxine saw injustice and inequality that pained her. She aspired to be like the social workers in her community who worked to change that.
“I thought they were the powerful people and I thought, ‘That’s what I’ll be because one day, I can help feed people, I can help get fair housing for people,’” she said.
But time went on and she realized another way to advocate for equality, not just for a community, but for the world.
Waters moved to Los Angeles as a young mother of two. After working in garment factories and at a telephone company, she eventually started a job in the Watts neighborhood as an assistant teacher for Head Start, a government program that works to give underprivileged and at-risk children adequate education and opportunity. She worked her way up to supervisor of volunteer services and parental involvement, where she taught parents to “take control of their children’s educational destiny.” The job also taught Waters to organize and expanded her network to include elected officials.
With the encouragement of Mary Henry, Opal Jones, Lillian Harkless-Mobley, Caffie Greene, Margaret Wright and other black women in policy, Waters decided to run for office at the height of the women’s movement. She was elected as a member of the California Assembly in 1976.
“I have the valuable experience of knowing these black women, of learning from them and I adopted the spirit. The spirit was profound and they knew how to challenge elected officials and to go through City Hall and to talk about the budget and talk about appointments, etc.,” she said.
“On a national level, of course, looking at Barbara Jordan and Shirley Chisholm and women like that,” she continued. “That just cements, I guess, who I am. And the fact that not only did I have what I would consider all of these fabulous neighborhood women, but that you could be a Shirley Chisholm, you could be a Barbie Jordan.”
Waters was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1990. Throughout the years she’s taken on various issues, including finance and budget, fair housing, job opportunities for all, education and the advancement of marginalized communities. Currently the ranking member of the House Committee on Financial Services, Waters has served as the head of the Congressional Black Caucus and sat as a board member of Essence magazine. She also co-founded LA-based nonprofit Black Women’s Forum.
I believe that discrimination is intolerable. I believe that injustice and inequality must be fought against all the time.
Congresswoman Maxine Waters
Along the way, she’s faced more than a few “dishonorable” opponents, one of the most notable being Los Angeles Police Chief Daryl Gates. Waters fought tirelessly against him. She advocated for a black mother gunned down by cops and spoke out against aggressive police tactics like chokeholds and strip searches. Her fight against police brutality continued into the 1992 L.A. rebellion ― sparked by the acquittal of the four officers who brutally beat Rodney King ― as she sent food, diapers and other resources to community members. She would also visit local media outlets in the morning to pressure journalists to stop using loaded language like “riot” and “thug” against black people.
Her work didn’t stop in her community. She’s helped secure $1.2 billion in debt relief for Haiti months prior to the 2010 earthquake. She’s also led the congressional anti-war efforts of the 2000s and called for the recovery and stability of Iraq during the refugee crisis. One of her most notable international achievements, however, was leading the bill to divest pension funds in California from doing business in South Africa as an act of anti-apartheid protest. Her bill helped lead to the freeing of Nelson Mandela from prison.
Waters said it’s all in her life’s purpose.
“This may sound a little bit naive: I truly believe in justice. And I truly believe in equality. And one of the things that I really did like in seventh and eighth grade was the Constitution. And I believe in it, I believe in people, I believe that everybody deserves the opportunity to have a decent quality of life. I believe that discrimination is intolerable. I believe that injustice and inequality must be fought against all the time,” she said.
Making the fight for justice her life’s work hasn’t prevented her from becoming the victim of oppression. She told HuffPost that whether it’s being underestimated in Congress or being hassled when boarding a plane first class, she isn’t immune to microagressions. One of the most recent and blatant instances played out on “Fox and Friends” when Bill O’Reilly said that he completely disregarded what Waters was saying because he was distracted by her hair, referring to it as a “James Brown wig.”
Waters delivered her viral response in the form of an affirmation for all black women: “I am a strong black woman, and I cannot be intimidated. I cannot be undermined.”
That same day, April Ryan was told to stop shaking her head during a White House press briefing by press secretary Sean Spicer. Just days later, Susan Rice, former President Barack Obama’s national security adviser, was accused of leaking the names of Trump campaign officials who appeared in surveillance reports by U.S. intelligence agencies. She remained under intense scrutiny despite denying the allegations.
It has been happening and so for me and April and Susan Rice right now, one of the things that they have is, they have some highly capable black women who don’t have to suffer. We don’t suffer, we take it on, we handle it.
Waters said the common thread between her, Ryan and Rice is shared by black women across the country, as highlighted by the #BlackWomenAtWork hashtag, created by activist Brittany Packnett.
“It has been happening and so for me and April and Susan Rice right now, one of the things that they have is, they have some highly capable black women who don’t have to suffer. We don’t suffer, we take it on, we handle it,” she told HuffPost.
“When you take a look at Susan Rice, who can run down the policies and articulate how classifieds are happening, they’re not talking to someone who just got hired on the job who’s scared to death because of the way black women are treated,” she continued. “When you talk to April Ryan, you’re talking to a White House correspondent. You’re talking to a journalist who covers the White House and knows what she’s talking about. When you talk to Maxine Waters, you’re talking to the ranking member of the Financial Services Committee that oversees Wall Street and all the banks and insurance companies in this country. You can’t intimidate me.”
She said those who have “tried it” simply “haven’t learned, yet.” She added, “But guess what: They’re learning.”
When underestimated and undervalued, Waters has persevered. For decades, she’s created her own seat at the table without compromising her authentic self. No invitation needed.
Her crusade against Trump is just what she was meant to do. It’s what the village of black women who raised her prepared her for. Now, along with continuing her fight for justice (and learning a few terms like “shade” and “stay woke” along the way), Waters is calling on young people to recognize the power they have to create their own seat.
“[Millennials have] got to be at the table in every conceivable way. And they can change these institutions,” she said. “So my message is, your time is now. Take advantage of the opportunities that [are] opening up and move to help provide the new leadership of this country.”
— This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.
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