But there are plenty other off-hand gems to be scooped, including a question of concern from one fan, homeboy5925, regarding the state of Atlanta's long-suffering historically black college, Morris Brown:
When you gonna bring Morris Brown back man? That school just sittin there in shambles. Yall put em on with that one joint on Idlewild but I think the school was already bout gone by then. I went to Morehouse after Brown fell off and the AUC just didnt feel the same. Did you ever try to like, help them out? Can Morris Brown even be helped?
But even some within the flock (be that Perry's flock or the conservative black church in general) are scratching their heads at the religious role reversal that occurred Sunday when Perry up and laid hands on renowned pastor Bishop T.D. Jakes, instead of the other way around.
Jakes may have served as a spiritual adviser to past and current presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama, authored over 30 books on a range of Christian-ly topics, and presided for nearly 20 years over one of the nation's largest megachurches, but on Sunday he got blessed by another patron saint of a large segment of black America.
If anybody has a closet-full of freaky Freaknik tales, it's gotta be Uncle Luke. It's probably no coincidence that Atlanta's salacious black spring break street parties of the '90s happened to overlap with Luke's run as a solo artist. Between 1990 and 1997, he dropped six albums, including his second LP, I Got Shit On My Mind, released in Nov. 1992 just months before Freaknik's word-of-mouth exposure truly broke nationwide.
But if you really want to get an idea what Freaknik's early years were like, you might be better served to rewind a couple of old Luke songs like "I Wanna Rock" or "Head, Head and More Head" (both from I Got Shit On My Mind) than to read his quote's from Complex's "Oral History of Freaknik."
While the writer does an admirable job of getting people such as '90s R&B freak Adina Howard to drag some of their Freaknik skeletons out of the closet, Complex ultimately proves that what happened at Freaknik - before the age of cellphone cameras and Instagram - remains forever dead and buried. Even ol' Uncle Luke, recent Miami mayoral candidate that he is, kept it PC:
My most memorable experience is when we did a big concert in [Piedmont Park]. Everybody was there. Goodie Mob, the whole Dungeon Family, Lil Jon, Jermaine Dupri. It was a big major concert in the park. That was probably one of my most memorable events.
Yeah, right. If you believe that was Luther Campbell's most memorable Freaknik experience, I've got a hot pair of 2 Live Crew reunion show tix to sell you.
Hedonism aside, the Complex piece does a great job of capturing the political environment that brewed around Freaknik as it evolved/devolved from black college party to misogynistic free-for-all attended by more people who probably couldn't spell "college" than actual students.
City Councilman Derrick Boazman recalls how then-Mayor Bill Campbell was torn between supporting a black event that grew from positive origins and respecting the requests of mostly white citizens who grew tired of surrendering their neighborhoods to the annual spring break wild-out:
I don't think I've ever checked a piece of luggage at the airport without mentally coming to terms with the possibility that I won't see it or its contents ever again. In response, presumably, to the unease associated with checking bags, Delta launched an app a while back that, among other things, allows you to track your bags "like you'd track a package," even mid-flight.
To promote the app, they released a video late last year that LITERALLY tracks a bag — one that's been fitted with six cameras — from check-in at a counter in Atlanta to its arrival on a carousel in New York. As the Atlantic pointed out, the ride for a piece of luggage actually looks kinda fun and like it's less likely to expose you to whatever communicable disease the disgustoids inside the plane are carrying. But I don't necessarily feel any less uneasy about checking bags.
Today we continue to mourn the death of disco queen Donna Summer, who succumbed to lung cancer yesterday at the age of 63. Another sad thing is that in 1963, President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
Two seemingly unrelated incidences of death happening, right? Not according to today's editorial cartoon in the AJC.
Is Donna Summer being buried next to JFK? Was she President of the United States at some point? Does this have something to do with RFK Jr.'s estranged wife dying yesterday? I assume the answer to all of these questions is, "No."
Back when I was in college — way back in 2005 — we dealt with the stress of exam week the old fashioned way. We guzzled mouthwash or rubbing alcohol (whatever we could get our hands on), and smoked cigarettes we rolled by hand using the probably toxic pages of sexually explicit library books. I can still feel Flaubert's words burning in my chest.
Students these days have a warmer, fuzzier option ... LITERALLALALAALLALLLY. From Emory's news center:
This spring, for the first time, the Emory law library offered to put a warm, fuzzy face on finals week, offering students, faculty and staff a chance to take a different kind of stress break.
The invitation was simple: Would you like to pet a dog?
Third-year Emory Law student Will Romine didn't need to be asked twice. He entered the Fyr Rare Book Room, dropped to all fours, and began romping with 5-month-old Jazzy, a flirtatious Labradoodle.
The student wellness project, which ran from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. over six days, employed six dogs per day, working for two-hour shifts in teams of two. Participants signed up to spend time with the dogs in 20-minute intervals. Several returned for repeat visits.
In the laughter and sighs, you could feel the tension evaporate.
You know what we had to cuddle with in the library? Rats. But usually we just ate them because our ailing bodies required the protein.
KIDS THESE DAYS.
Time lapse videos are fun. As a society, we love them. Probably because we're impatient, and would live our lives fast forwarding through things with remote controls like in the movie "Click," a plot we'd be familiar with if we hadn't fast forwarded through the whole thing. It was for the best.
Anyway, here's a ten-second video of City Hall East's parking deck being gobbled up by a jaunty backhoe with comical musical accompaniment. ENJOY.
Some guy named Damon Davis, who claims to be an "Atlanta evangelical leader" and runs something called Legacy Worldwide Foundation, says he plans to distribute thousands of bibles to Congress, schools and military personnel.
And not just any bible, but something called the American Patriot's Bible, which was written by one Richard Lee, who describes himself as "the Founding Pastor of First Redeemer Church located in metropolitan Atlanta."
Yes, you read that right. Let's say it all together: One BEEEEEEEL-YUN dollars. And no native Americans involved. O'Leary's proposal envisions "a towering hotel, a spacious theater and a game floor with 7,500 video lottery machines."
Why would our Red State politicians support this plan? Well, for one, O'Leary claims the casino could contribute $350 million a year to help fund the struggling HOPE scholarship. Also, there's this:
O’Leary said his new project won’t need legislative approval because it involves video terminals already permitted under state law. But it will need the backing of the Georgia Lottery Board, which would regulate the machines, and whose members are appointed by Gov. Nathan Deal.
It's a similar setup to what he unsuccessfully proposed for Underground Atlanta three years back. Instead of the standard electronic slot machines, the casino would have "video lottery terminals," devices that look similar but use a lottery-based system for yielding winning numbers.
We're now taking bets on whether anything will come of this.
After President Obama widely viewed warbling of the opening lines from Al Green's "Let's Stay Together," the president was again coaxed to offer a tune at the recently taped “In Performance at the White House: Red, White and Blues” for PBS.
At the end of the concert, which featured such blues/rock luminaries as B.B. King, Mick Jagger, Jeff Beck, Buddy Guy and Derek Trucks, one of the all-star band members asks the Prez to sing. After initially declining, Obama starts up with "Sweet Home Chicago."
We haven't heard him do a whole song yet and, although he sounds like he could be pretty good, maybe it's for the best. Clinton was all too eager to show the world his horn chops — and he sucked.
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