Blog Talk Radio

Guest: Maria "HIV" Mejia

Segment: "HIV & Young America"

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We Require Perspective, II: Past, Future, and Present

Guest Blogger:
Rosechell Spencer III

On the first day of trial, Cinquẻ tells the court about his journey through the Middle Passage and then aboard La Amistad…

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Women Of A Certain Class

238 East 50th Street, New York City, NY: this is the address of one of several apartment buildings in a few upper class New York City neighborhoods that maintained a prostitution ring for the past year. This location was seized last month by undercover detectives who had been investigating  a 42 y.r. man from Brooklyn, NY who arranged and maintained it. The ringleader, William Thomas, had kept two websites advertising sex with Asian women. The price for sex: $200. The men who bought services: wealthy businessmen from Wall St. The women who were using their bodies for sex were photographed in ads as sex objects who dressed in play clothes that portrayed them as maids and school girls.
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Where Is Your 40 Acres?

Photo by Poster Boy NYC

Election Night I was home trying my best to stay up as several U.S. states lagged behind so many others, counting the votes for our next President. In the end, it was all worth the wait, Barack Obama was re-elected. Four years earlier, a lot of us were more worked up and excited hoping, praying that we would see the first African American president win the election. This time around I think we were still quite excited, but possibly more worried that the win would go to Mitt Romney and not Barack Obama.

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Not My Life

(click image to enlarge)

Election Day

Election day is finally here! 

You've got a voice, let it be heard!

#GoVote

After you do make this image your social media icon - Rock The Vote!

What Will You Remember?

Photo by Tiffa130

Ok, Readers! This one may be a blatant no holds barred read, but I have to put it out there. What is BET doing with it's programming? The more I think I want to support their shows and sit down to some hip hop and R&B entertainment, I'm instead thrusted into the back of some hip hop or R&B artist's behind. I care very little about the tattoos I can hardly read on their bodies. I care even less about if their underwear are Calvin Klein or Hanes. I do, however, care about the tiny boys and girls I heard the other day reciting hip hop lines of rappers who, at some point, are going to refer to themselves and these kids as niggahs and bitches.
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