Posted tagged ‘racism’

The Sanford Strangler: A Shocking Florida Tale!

August 19, 2014

Once upon a time, in the infamous Florida city called Sanford, there lived a young man named Harrison. A time existed when Harrison loved gangsta rap, especially 90’s gangsta rap. He requested the music all the time.

Harry

Many people already know about George Zimmerman, a white Hispanic who shot and killed Trayvon Martin, an unarmed black teenager. For awhile, Zimmerman wasn’t arrested. During the time civil rights leaders marched peacefully through Sanford, Harrison changed. He turned anti-rap.

racism and harry

If you look at the second quote, you’ll see something about hip hop based around violence, drugs and sexual abuse. The irony of this? Before his anti-rap stance, Harrison was arrested for domestic violence by strangulation.

As you can see in the next photo, Harrison wasn’t too fond of Travyon Martin, either.

Hurry Regal's Big Mouth

After all this, guess what happened? The same guy who badmouthed Trayvon Martin and hip hop was arrested for strangulation AGAIN! Yes, according to arrest records, The Sanford Strangler may have struck again!

Has he gone to prison? Has the charges been dropped? This blog doesn’t know. Still, it definitely will give updates about…The Sanford Strangler.

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Snapchat Racist Black Face Image

May 2, 2014

Because Snapchat is currently trending on Google, I thought I’d bring up an incident I blogged about before.

Back in March I found this black face image on Instagram.

Snapchat racist black face

Later on, the “author” told me he created this on Snapchat.  Until recently, I never heard of it.  Whatever the case, I still don’t like this image.  I think it’s racist.

Another Idiot Uploads a Blackface Photo on Instagram

March 15, 2014

Yesterday, I happen to visit Instagram.  What do I see?  This pic showing, exaggerated, stereotype, black faces.

Black face instagram

At first, I definitely was offended.  Before writing this blog, I asked friends about it.  They came to the same conclusion; this shit is offensive.

By the way, a friend pointed out the Pulp Fiction character’s name is spelled “Marsellus Wallace”.

As some folks may have easily blown this off, there’s more to it than this.  You see, I know the guy personally.  In Sanford, I used to DJ in his mom’s bar.

A year ago,  I had a falling out with the place.  Business was running slow.  (From what I was told, it still is.) Despite sales dropping all over, I was personally being blamed for the Tuesdays and Wednesdays I DJed there.  Plus I was being blamed for the one Friday of the month I DJed there.  For some reason, the bar owner blamed me for playing gangster rap.  First of all, despite all the cursing and sexist lyrics, none of the songs I played were gangster rap.  In other words, no lyrics involved violence.

Where did the owner get the word “gangster rap” from?  Her son complained about me playing it earlier. My humble guess leans towards her learning that word from her son.

Seriously, check out these two videos. Does this look like rap music running people out of the bar?

Oh yea, I didn’t always play hip-hop either.

To even illustrate more bullshit, a night actually did center around rap music.

Dirty hip hop flyer and 90s music

This was at the bar’s previous location.  A film festival happened that weekend.  On this night, not only did my biker friends show up, the mayor of Sanford showed up too.

Sanford Mayor Jeff Triplett posing with black sanford resident

Could it be the patrons deserted the bar because of bad customer service?  For years, folks complained to the bar owner about her son.  I can remember that since 2010.  Yet, now as of September 2013, she finally got rid of him.  By that time, I had already quit.

Still, whether he still works there or not, the damage is already done.  Knowing her son as the main reason people stopped attending the bar, the bar owner chose to pick on me and rap music.  She even gave him my Wednesday night.  Then, after that, she told me he was making so much money.  Yet, patrons told me a far different story.  The bar was always nearly empty.  Plus he always closed early and headed to another bar, a bar he currently works at.

Observe this exchange.  I scribbled out the name to protect the innocent. Patrick Scott Barnes is me. I DJ on the left.  This was in 2013.  Check the calender for that year and you’ll see 1/16 was a Wednesday night, the nights I used to DJ.

Empty bar

He across the street

Mr. Closing-At-12 is the one in the middle. This is at the other bar.

West End pic

After my observation, my friend agreed.

West end dead too.

Back in March 2013, I quit Tuesdays also.  In May, I received an e-mail showing a fight had taken place on Tuesday.  I guess this was the crowd the bar wanted all along.

fight at little fish

When I charged racism before I quit , both the bar owner  and her son found my words having no base.  Yet, check out her son’s wonderful prose on racism.  By the way, Hurry Regal and Harry Reagan are the same person.

racism and harry

Remember, this is the same guy posting black faces on Instagram.

Him and I used to get along.  Yet, when the publicity over George Zimmerman brought attention to Sanford, he turned into an asshole about race.

Hurry Regal and Al Sharpton

Hurry Regal's Big Mouth

All right, here’s my confession.  I can take part of the blame for “nigga” .  Because some patrons were fans of the show, I used to always quote Boondocks.

“Nigga, you gay.”

Black folks saying that, white people start saying it too.  Still, most white people in their right mind know not to repeat that word.   White rappers Eminem and Macklemore never used that word.

Yet, way before my conflict with the bar, I stopped saying it.

During the peaceful marches in Sanford, some folks complained about Al Sharpton and Jessie Jackson, saying they were dividing the city. Even some business owners voiced this.

Yet, here is some dude walking among Downtown Sanford people,  and only about two called him out on his bullshit.

Also, as he mouths off about violent music, might I add he has a criminal record for domestic violence? No wonder he supports George Zimmerman, him and George have something in common.

Does this mean I believe the city of Sanford is racist?  Sanford is no different than any other city.  Just like in most cities and towns, you have both your idiots and decent people.

UPDATE:  I RECEIVED THIS E-MAIL ON FACEBOOK.

Harry's email

Oh well, here’s a past email from his mom. This was 2013.

Don't play rag email

By the way, all metal music doesn’t run people out of the bar. Check out the third video on this blog.

Actually, she’s referring to a night when some dudes kept asking for death metal all night. True enough, that did piss people off.

I guess everything was my fault. Oh well, check out the next e-mail. A past open-mic host sent the bar owner an e-mail.  The bar owner sent a copy of the letter to me. I scratched out the letter writer’s name to protect the innocent. He defends his friend. Yet, he lays some nasty blame on the bar owner.  This was 2012.

Your bar is badly run

Will I get another nasty email? Who knows.

Warning: Don’t Buy Negro Records

February 4, 2014

The other day on Facebook, I noticed a repost of an upload. The upload was a poster warning people not to buy Negro records. Of course, this is a relic from the past. Carl Davidison, editor of Changemaker Press, was the original uploader. Carl Davidson was once the student leader of the leftist organization New Left. The poster itself was created by Citizens Council of Greater New Orleans, a chapter of the anti-integration White Citizens Council. Created in the 1950’s, White Citizens Council existed mostly in the South. After dying out in the 1970’s, the group reformed as Council of Conservative Citizens.

Don't Buy Negro Records

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Does This Pic Proves Google Hires Racists?

January 20, 2014

Here I am on this fine MLK Day looking at the stats on my blog.  I study the search word section and what do I see?   Three rows down, I see “happy nigger day!” Now, why in the fuck would Google send these fuckers my way.  As you can see, Google sent them here TWICE. Or is there more to this?  Is this some sneaky shit a Google employee is trying to send me?  I don’t know.  I don’t mind people knocking me for running a music, night life and booty blog. Yet, with me being black, I don’t find “happy nigger day” funny.

On the real tip, I’m not blogging this for sympathy.  I’m blogging to this showing how stupid some people are.

Happy Nigger Day search

Negro DJ Exposed As Racist and Sexist!

November 22, 2011

Dear White Bitch,

I cringe using the words “white bitch”. Yet, that’s who you identified yourself as on my last blog. Speaking of my last blog, let’s show reader’s the ridiculous comment you left. (Click on the pic in order to read it.)

Now I shall address it.

“Reading through your previous posts, all you write about it white people this, and white people that.”        Well, if I don’t pick on white people, who will? On the serious tip, your statement is bullshit.  Of all the diverse things I post, my “race” posts are what you choose to focus on.

“You’re basically a racist.”   You’re right.  I don’t like white people.  Yet, I pose with white women in photos and play “white” music at my gigs in predominately white bars.   Still, you cold busted me.  Only black bigots like myself would own Britney Spears music. Pat yourself on the back for exposing my racist nature, White Bitch.  By the way, Obama 2012.

“You also say nothing good about women.”    You’re right again, I don’t.  Especially when it comes to drunk white women who annoy black DJs.  Instead of pulling the race card, you’re pulling the gender card.  Don’t you love the irony?  According to you, I can’t use race.  Yet, you can pull gender out of your ass.

“Playing songs off a laptop in a shitty bar in sanford does not make you a di, it makes you a loser.” According to who?  You?  Do you even know the definition of the word “DJ”?  Look it up and you’ll find something like this: a person who selects and plays recorded music for an audience.  According to that definition, I accurately fit the description of a DJ.  When it comes to criticizing a DJ’s equipment, I know two types of people who talk like that: other DJs and groupies who will follow anyone they see as important or popular.  I don’t think you’re a DJ.  I think you’re some kind of groupie.

As for the “shitty bar in sanford”, I suspect you’ve been in that place plenty of times.  Why?  Because why would someone call the bar shitty if they have never been there before?  Talking about a place you’ve never been in looks stupid.

Oh yea, Sanford isn’t the only place I DJ in.  I also DJ in Orlando.

“Get off your high horse.”  Okay, White Bitch, let me lay something on you.  You do not tell me what to do.  If I choose to ride the high horse, that’s my decision.  Not yours.  Are you trying to put me “in my place”?

“Looks like someone’s mad they didn’t go to college.”   I honestly do not know where this came from.   Yet, let me point something out.  When you call someone mad, you are referring to mental illness.  The proper word you’re searching for is angry.  You speak better Ebonics than I do.  Are you sure you’re a “white bitch”?  As for your statement, I am angry with myself because I didn’t FINISH college.

White Bitch, I see mostly jealousy in your statements.  What ticks you off about me and my laptop is that I’ve gotten gigs. Me DJing in Sanford, Florida is irrelevant.   You don’t like the fact that what I do works. Incidentally, I know a Lake Mary resident who used to riff about laptop DJs just like you do.  She writes for a local magazine.  Despite your IP address being tracked to Lake Mary, I’m not accusing you of being that woman.  For all I know, you could be one of the drunk white women in my last blog.   A buddy of mine told me one of those women lives in Lake Mary too.

What motivated you to write your statements, White Bitch?  Did you think I was going to stop calling myself a DJ just because YOU said I wasn’t?  Who the hell are you? Did you think labeling me a racist, sexist was going to strike a nasty chord and cause me to cry?  That’s what you were trying to do, weren’t you? You aimed nasty words in order to hurt me.

Deal with it. I’m a DJ who uses a laptop, rides a high horse and talks plenty shit about drunk white women who annoy black DJs.  If you don’t like it, go finger-fuck yourself.

Yours truly,

DJ Stone Crazy

Play Something Cool, DJ

July 13, 2011

For awhile, last Sundays gig cruised positively.  First I warmed up with some rock tunes.  Then, I drifted to some hip-hop. As I did this, I noticed two women dancing near the bar counter.

Now, this is how you have fun.

Speaking of bar counter, again I was sitting at the far right corner of it, typical of my Sunday night gigs at The Peacock. Room.  The Peacock Room exists a five minute drive away from Downtown Orlando, Florida.   August marks my being there for a whole year.

As I focused on people having a good time, a friend of mine walked up to me. At least, I thought he was a friend.

“Virtual DJ,” he went.

The dude’s name was Ray, a white guy who fixes computers.

Virtual DJ is the software I use for gigs.

“I have that,” he said.

“How much you paid for it?” I went.

He ignored my question and stated touching my laptop. Because he ignored my question, I guessed Ray had illegally downloaded the software.

“Go to the sound effects,” he said and pressed my computer to the sound effect page.

“No!” I yelled and changed back to the previous page.

After all the fixing I did with my software, the last thing I needed was someone screwing things up. When I first got it, Virtual DJ automatically altered the BPMs of the songs.  Let’s say the playing song is 95 BPM (beats per minute).  If the next song I choose is 125 BPM, the 95 BPM song automatically speeds up to 125.  And when this happens, Snoop Dogg starts sounding like Alvin and the Chipmunks.   Also, when I first got Virtual DJ, the sound effects automatically came on. Both the BPM and sound effects I had fixed to prevent them from automatically working.   Now, here was Ray fucking with things.

“You’re just now learning the program, aren’t you?” said Ray.

I remained quiet. Actually, I had the program for a year.

Ray left, and I was pissed.  This wasn’t the first time an “expert” played know-it-all with me.  True enough, “experts” of all ethnicities and races worked on my last damned nerves. Still, most of them were white.  Refusing to drop their racial superiority complex, some white people still can’t resist telling black folks what to do.  No wonder many of them have problems with a black president. For once, here’s a black person they can’t boss around.

Having some fun.

I remained focus on keeping the atmosphere positive.   Around 11:30, I placed more focus on hip-hop and dance music. By this time, another woman danced at the bar counter as other folks head nodded to the beats.

Somewhere in the mix, I played Travis Porter’s “Make It Rain”, a hip-hop song.

Again Ray walked up to me.

“Stop playing that ghetto ass music. Play something cool.”

Him saying “ghetto ass music” struck the wrong guitar string with me.

I pointed to the head nodding people.

“Don’t you see those people moving to the music?” I said.

“No, they aren’t,” said Ray.

“Yes, they are.”

“Play something cool.  Play the Cure.  You’re just iTuning it.  You’re not spinning.  I can DJ better than that.”

“Well, do it!”

Ray began leaving. Still, I kept yelling.

“Get your own gig and do it!”

I knew what this was about. I had the gig and he didn’t. And his jealousy was getting the best of him.

Actually, I mix by notes.  Every song contains one main note.  Some notes mix well with others and some don’t.  Virtual DJ tells you the notes.  Sometimes it gets it wrong.  A song saying C could actually be a G song..

Also, I attempt keeping the songs within the five BPM range.  If the current song is 100 BPM, the next song could either be 95 BPM or 105 BPM.

I don’t always follow the methods.  Still, I use it as my guide.

Despite the annoyance, I remained focus on the mix.  By this time, I noticed some bikers nodding to my music.

At the tail end of my gig, I walked outside.  The bikers were getting ready to leave.

“Don’t you play at Little Fish?” one asked.

“Yea,” I said.

As he and I shook hands, we hugged.

I never forgot the night bikers partied to my mix.  Now, they’re recognizing me at other gigs.

Some folks may be better DJs.  Despite that, I still get my props.