I didn’t think there was much of a story with the black Barbie doll that came out.
I was going thru the channels, and heard the women of The View talking about it. Whoopi turned it around, joking that it actually had a bit of a booty. Someone else wondered why the dolls had long black hair, instead of curls.
In the afternoon, a few of the news stations had women that were angry about the dolls having long, black hair. The maker, an African-American woman, brought up a good point. She said that girls favorite things to do to with dolls is combing their hair. And it works better this way. She also mentioned that one of the dolls had the short curls.
Of course, the word “nappy” came up in a few stories.
I immediately thought about my stepbrother, who was driving a school bus while going to college. A black girl that was five came up and asked him if Santa Claus was black or white. He thought about it, and then said white. He figured it would make more sense, as she probably saw pictures of Santa; or at the mall.
The parents complained, and he was told not to comment on Santa in the future. Gotta love the PC police.
Two years in a row, I rented a Santa costume and gave out toys to children. I had a black girl sit on my lap and say “I want a Barbie. But I want a white one this time!” I told her to make sure she tells her parents, too.
I tried thinking of a joke I could have in this blog. I thought about the Barbie beach house, and how the black Barbie had a harder time getting a home loan. I thought about the Barbie Corvette, and how she put spinners on it and a real car stereo.
But I thought instead I’d post the lyrics to a song by Stew, who’s the most underrated songwriter of all-time.
He used to perform locally at venues like Java Joe’s (one time for around three people). These lyrics are when he was in the band “The Negro Problem,” and the song is called Ken.
My name's Ken/and I like men. But the people at Mattel/home that I call hell... Are somewhat bothered by my queer proclivities.
It's safe to say, that they are really pissed at me. They always stick me/with Barbie. But I want them to know/I pray for GI Joe… But any able-bodied man would surely do; For someone to love ... Since I am not set up to screw.
Black Barbie, you know she used to talk to me. Now she'd rather be/in plastic therapy. Sitting on a plastic couch speaking freely. The only problem is she has no history.
Someday soon/I'll be in your childs room. And I'll be forced to kiss/Barbie's plastic tits. And I will hate myself/but what's more I'll hate you... For not allowing me to love as I wish to.
See, I'm your corporate toy/cursed to bring you joy. Through divorce or death/I'll just hold my breath... And play along.
Your daughter's not to blame at all, for bringing these burdens upon a doll.
so fa-la la-la la-la la-la la-la la-la so fa-la la-la la-la la-la la-la la-la…
I didn’t think there was much of a story with the black Barbie doll that came out.
I was going thru the channels, and heard the women of The View talking about it. Whoopi turned it around, joking that it actually had a bit of a booty. Someone else wondered why the dolls had long black hair, instead of curls.
In the afternoon, a few of the news stations had women that were angry about the dolls having long, black hair. The maker, an African-American woman, brought up a good point. She said that girls favorite things to do to with dolls is combing their hair. And it works better this way. She also mentioned that one of the dolls had the short curls.
Of course, the word “nappy” came up in a few stories.
I immediately thought about my stepbrother, who was driving a school bus while going to college. A black girl that was five came up and asked him if Santa Claus was black or white. He thought about it, and then said white. He figured it would make more sense, as she probably saw pictures of Santa; or at the mall.
The parents complained, and he was told not to comment on Santa in the future. Gotta love the PC police.
Two years in a row, I rented a Santa costume and gave out toys to children. I had a black girl sit on my lap and say “I want a Barbie. But I want a white one this time!” I told her to make sure she tells her parents, too.
I tried thinking of a joke I could have in this blog. I thought about the Barbie beach house, and how the black Barbie had a harder time getting a home loan. I thought about the Barbie Corvette, and how she put spinners on it and a real car stereo.
But I thought instead I’d post the lyrics to a song by Stew, who’s the most underrated songwriter of all-time.
He used to perform locally at venues like Java Joe’s (one time for around three people). These lyrics are when he was in the band “The Negro Problem,” and the song is called Ken.
My name's Ken/and I like men. But the people at Mattel/home that I call hell... Are somewhat bothered by my queer proclivities.
It's safe to say, that they are really pissed at me. They always stick me/with Barbie. But I want them to know/I pray for GI Joe… But any able-bodied man would surely do; For someone to love ... Since I am not set up to screw.
Black Barbie, you know she used to talk to me. Now she'd rather be/in plastic therapy. Sitting on a plastic couch speaking freely. The only problem is she has no history.
Someday soon/I'll be in your childs room. And I'll be forced to kiss/Barbie's plastic tits. And I will hate myself/but what's more I'll hate you... For not allowing me to love as I wish to.
See, I'm your corporate toy/cursed to bring you joy. Through divorce or death/I'll just hold my breath... And play along.
Your daughter's not to blame at all, for bringing these burdens upon a doll.
so fa-la la-la la-la la-la la-la la-la so fa-la la-la la-la la-la la-la la-la…