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Wendell's First Birthday
This baby Wendell is no longer zero years old.
These were also the most astonishing chocolate cupcakes of all time. Allison baked them with ganache in the middle. Everyone is just kind of stunned and questioning everything we’ve ever understood about the limits of chocolateyness.
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Angry Gratitude List: Anti-Masker Edition
I write gratitude lists most days that I share with friends. Sometimes they aren’t all nicey-sweet. Sometimes I actually find them helpful for processing feelings of anger. Today’s is a humdinger (f-bombs abound):
Today, I am grateful— —to have had my first head-to-head run-in with an anti-masker who happens to be the security guard at my company’s building and refused to wear a mask when our customer politely asked while loading into our studios, causing massive drama. —that I can pretty quickly calm down from being murderously angry to try to find the friendliest solution to a problem: “Look, even if you disagree, can you please just do me this favor. Just wear it for an hour so our customer is comfortable.” —that I can become murderously angry again when a motherfucker won’t accept my very friendly human solution to the problem. —that it makes me sick to then be “that guy” who has to say “You realize that I pay your paycheck…” (now I’m that guy). —that I feel even more sick about the fact that, due to his dumbass indignance about such a simple request, I now have to come for this guy’s job, who is poor and has young kids (who he’s shown me pictures of, and vice versa). —that I can know this guy is a selfish fucking idiot and simultaneously lament the fact that the fucker is probably throwing his job and what little security he has away over his own dumbass pride because “he already said no” to several people. —that I relate to that kind of bullshit childish pride, and that today I can recognize it quickly when it comes up in myself. —that I know a family’s well-being shouldn’t depend on shit jobs and that being a prideful asshole one time shouldn’t ruin your life, and that I shouldn’t be in this position to hurt him this badly because our whole economy is fucking hooked up wrong. —that it probably (hopefully) isn’t going to actually ruin the guy’s life, and that it’s clear I’ve got employees who I’m way the fuck more responsible to than him. —that I can feel all these things simultaneously, and that none of them are right, or wrong, or me.
What a country.
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I was on a podcast: overcast.fm/+TWOsK1h3…
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John Bolton is one of the four or seven worst people currently living on the planet. And yet… here we are.
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The Racial Wealth Gap
A common delaying tactic that we all employ is: “Let’s think about this. It’s complicated.”
For racial justice, it would be good to remember that there are some very UNcomplicated things. One of them, maybe the least complicated of all, is The Wealth Gap.
The average (and median) net worth of black families in America is less than 10% that of white families. This is 50 years post-Civil Rights Act and 150 years post-enslavement.
There are only two reasons that are possible to consider for why this massive wealth gap exists:
- Relentless, systematic, and violent oppression of black people, every single day, for decades. This is not “discrimination.” A 15% difference in wealth could be explained by “discrimination.” The 90% wealth gap can only be the result of a scorched-earth policy of war.
- If you consider the only other reason you could be considering for more than 8 or 11 seconds, then you are a dangerous person who shouldn’t be allowed near children or anything of any importance.
Will bridging the wealth gap solve everything for black people? Of course not, but it’s the simplest thing that can be done immediately, and I would argue it’s the most important first step in righting the sinking ship of America.
While black people continue to show awe-inspiring courage and resilience, money is the best weapon to arm them with for the many battles that lie ahead. Money goes a long way. It’s the most effective means of power and self-determination in our system.
“So what are you saying? Just give black people money? Let’s think about this. It’s complicat—“ No, it isn’t. 98-0, Democrat and Republican senators voted to use TRILLIONS of our collective dollars to eliminate the chance of rich people being hurt by the pandemic. 98-0.
Think about this: With just the 2 trillion dollars used by the Fed to prop up the stock market for A COUPLE OF DAYS in April, we could have given every black person in America—grandparents, moms, dads, kids, babies—more than $60,000. Each.
And that’s the tip of the iceberg of what’s available. We have more than the means to close the racial wealth gap. It isn’t complicated. Every day we fail to do so only adds to the pain, the sin, the collective karma that is rotting out the soul (and the economy) of this country.
The best day to begin Reparations was 150 years ago. The second best day is today.
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To the memetic legend who fashioned and spread the idea that you must bathe in tomato juice after getting skunked: The world needs you now. Use your powers for good.
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As a young teenager, I sailed tall ships, which sounds a lot better than “I went to Sailing Camp.”
As an older teenager, I went to rehab, which sounds only slightly better than “I went to Feelings Camp.”
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Privilege is non-transferable. The imaginary act of “giving up privilege” itself affirms privilege, affirming whose choice it is to “give.”
All one can (and must) do with privilege is to leverage it to break down the systems that create privileged classes in the first place.
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Vinyl is the best pomodoro timer you can buy.
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This podcast that I made a few years ago is still relevant and still one of the only things I’m proud to have made. It’s about one young black man’s journey through the juvenile justice system: pod.link/111203544…
This assault starts at birth and is from every direction.
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The Racial Wealth Gap Isn't Complicated
A common delaying tactic that we all employ is: “Let’s think about this. It’s complicated.” For racial justice, it would be good to remember that there are some very UNcomplicated things. One of them, maybe the least complicated of all, is The Wealth Gap.
The average (and median) net worth of black families in America is less than 10% that of white families. This is 50 years post-Civil Rights Act and 150 years post-enslavement. There are only two reasons that are possible to consider for why this massive wealth gap exists:
Relentless, systematic, and violent oppression of black people, every single day, for decades. This is not “discrimination.” A 15% difference in wealth could be explained by “discrimination.” The 90% wealth gap can only be the result of a scorched-earth policy of war.
If you consider the only other reason you could be considering for more than 8 or 11 seconds, then you are a dangerous person who shouldn’t be allowed near children or anything of any importance.
Will bridging the wealth gap solve everything for black people? Of course not, but it’s the simplest thing that can be done immediately, and I would argue it’s the most important first step in righting the sinking ship of America.
While black people continue to show awe-inspiring courage and resilience, money is the best weapon to arm them with for the many battles that lie ahead. Money goes a long way. It’s the most effective means of power and self-determination in our system.
“So what are you saying? Just give black people money? Let’s think about this. It’s complicat—“ No, it isn’t. 98-0, Democrat and Republican senators voted to use TRILLIONS of our collective dollars to eliminate the chance of rich people being hurt by the pandemic. 98-0.
Think about this: With just the 2 trillion dollars used by the Fed to prop up the stock market for A COUPLE OF DAYS in April, we could have given every black person in America—grandparents, moms, dads, kids, babies—more than $60,000. Each.
And that’s the tip of the iceberg of what’s available. We have more than the means to close the racial wealth gap. It isn’t complicated. Every day we fail to do so only adds to the pain, the sin, the collective karma that is rotting out the soul (and the economy) of this country.
The best day to begin Reparations was 150 years ago. The second best day is today.
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Has anyone here on micro.blog set up any “unofficial” way to do threads? I understand we can just do longer “blog posts,” but there are actually some amazing things that came out of the hacky Twitter thread, like jumping between threads from the atomic micropost level. cc @manton
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When individuals blame society for their problems, it’s usually a cop-out.
When a society blames individuals for its problems, it’s ALWAYS a cop-out.
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Confessions of a Looter
I need to admit something: I am an active participant in looting. As a business owner (or, as the elected leaders and ruling class like to call me, a “JAHHB creator”), I received $177,835 in taxpayer money last month, which I’m free to do whatever I want with.
If I use this $177,835 I was given for payroll or rent, it’s just a gift to me. I get to continue operating my business as I see fit. And if I use the money to bonus myself, it becomes essentially a zero interest loan.
When the Payroll Protection Program was passed, I had at least a dozen conversations with other business owners and friends in government: “Let me get this straight… They’re just going to… pay my payroll for two months? Really? 🤷♂️ Okay…”
The subtext of every one of these conversations was: “You mean, the store is just… open? We can just take the money?” And so like a bunch of hogs, we went on a ravenous feeding frenzy. All of our CFOs/lawyers/accountants sucked up every dollar we could from that open store.
Of course, none of my fellow looters have any absolutely justified rage or poverty. We’re just opportunistic. Like literally every other living creature in every known phylum, genus, and species that has ever existed.
Sure, we “care about our employees.” We hate having to lay anyone off (if we aren’t monsters). But let’s be clear… Our employees make us money. We are in the power position, and because of the broken values of this society, we are ALWAYS the first ones rescued/protected.
Note: We are all fully aware that we used whatever resources and any connections we had to elbow our way to the front of the corporate welfare line. You think we don’t know we’re 46,000 times more likely to get PPP than, say, the average black-owned business on 9th Street?
None of us is above looting, and the looting that has been perpetrated on this country by those who have already “made it” is the reason we’re here in the first place. And it’s infinitely more disgusting than trashing a T-Mobile.
If you’ve ever paid capital gains tax, if you’ve ever taken the mortgage interest deduction on your expensive home, if any part of your income isn’t subject to payroll tax, if you’ve “made it,” if you know (damn well) that you are the beneficiary of our morally bankrupt system, you are not eligible to judge anyone for looting.
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“You can’t connect all the yaks you’ve shaved looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that all of your meticulously-shaven yaks will somehow connect in your future.”
— Steve Jobs, who died on my birthday
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Snuggling before bed, Louisa, 2, leans back and with explosive force smashes her disproportionately large skull against my teeth. I shriek out in pain, possibly bleeding. Unfazed, Louisa sighs, then coldly pats me on the head.
“You’re okay, Daddy… You’re okay…”
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This year’s Halloween photo did not go as well as last year’s…
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First blurry Polaroids of Wendell
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When you forget it’s picture day and send her to school in a Snoop Dogg shirt.
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Louisa’s first time at Sesame Place with special appearances by Wendell and Mae. First three are short clips, last three are the full jawn with music on top.
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Of all the years to pick for the first time to forget my dad’s birthday, this one was simultaneously the least forgivable and the most. The least because it’s his 70th, the most because I forgot my own (today) between these two babies and craziness at work. Anyway, I think I might have a get out of jail free card here somewhere… Happy Belated 70th Birthday, Grandpa Boop!
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Dreaming Wendell.
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Louisa clearly has plans for her baby brother. Wendell has questions about those plans.
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Wendell Brooks Phillips, 7 lbs. 11 oz.. He doesn’t have much to say but he seems nice enough. Allison is recovering beautifully. She’s the best.
