With June being #LGBTQPrideMonth, I would be remiss if I didn’t pay tribute to my brother and comrade, fellow gay Wakandan speculative fiction author, Nicholas Almand.
Little known fact. The late Michael Turner was one of my personal heroes. He was also one the catalysts who inspired me to go to art school and get my BFA in computer animation. It was on the path of getting my BFA that of course eventually led me to becoming a published author and a comic book nerd seraph that you’ve all come to know and feel morally ambivalent about.
And to think none of that might’ve happened had a chance meeting not occurred.
On February 21, 2011, the world lost a legend. Dwayne McDuffie passed away at the age of 49, leaving behind a towering legacy in comics and television. McDuffie was one of the founding fathers of Milestone Media, a prominent writer for DC Comics, and the brains behind DC TV Classics like Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, and Static Shock. His influence on comics and superhero storytelling reverberate to this day. One writer who was inspired by McDuffie is David F. Walker, currently writing Occupy Avengers for Marvel and has previously written Cyborg for DC. David joins Keith and Desiree (Britney is out this week) to remember the life and times of Dwayne McDuffie.
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”
Nearly a year ago today the music died.
Actor, rockstar, musician and suspected otherworldly being David Bowie passed away one year ago, three days after his birthday which is today.
As we celebrate Bowie’s life and legacy, I’m reminded of the fact that it was roughly around this time two years ago that we lost Leonard Nimoy.
Much like Nimoy, when I think back on Bowie, I realize that he was an influence on me in ways I never considered.
Princess Leia was cool.
General Leia was awesome.
Carrie Fisher was legendary.
It was 15 years ago today that we lost an icon, an extraordinary young gifted artist, Aaliyah Haughton, known to fans simply as Aaliyah.
In the spirit of Prince, David Bowie, and Janelle Monae, Aaliyah possessed a larger than life persona that ironically was fueled by her mystique. Dark clothing, trademark hair over one eye, the enigmatic chaunteuse had an almost ethereal presence which also could be found in her music.
Pugilist, champion, leader, prophet, husband, father, excellence. Muhammad Ali earned many titles. But only two words adequately define him: The Greatest!!
Like many others I was saddened and heartbroken to hear about the passing of esteemed speculative fiction author Eugie Foster. In addition to being one of the most gifted writers I’ve ever encountered, Eugie was the personification of grace and class. I was honored to consider Eugie both a colleague and a friend.
Truth be told, music has a much stronger hold on me than geek culture. While I love all things geek/nerdy/afrogeek/astroblack, music is how I experienced love. Growing up in an immediate household that was nothing but abuse and the absence of love, music was my portal to some place safer. My mom was a horrible mother, but she built upon a stellar record collection. A collection that she’d let me listen to without being beaten. After our year of frozen homelessness, we got an apartment where the previous tenant left a sizable record collection. Among the Chaka Khan and Rufus, Mandrill, Chuck Mangione, The Wailers, Miles Davis, and Santana albums were Prince’s For You and Dirty Mind. Despite the racy content, my mother and I listened to those albums until they were warped and scratched beyond all hopes of rescuing. We loved it because it sounded so different compared to anything else we listened to — which was mostly reggae and jazz. But it wasn’t until 1999 dropped in ’82 that I had to come to terms with the idea that Prince was going to be one of the foundation stones of my pop cultural biography. Continue reading “The Beautiful One”
I received the text late. I’m normally a night out owl, but this CPAP machine is making sleep lovely and attractive. I heard my phone buzz and clumsily pawed for it. I pulled it close to my face, my sleepiness and the plastic bar of the CPAP face mask made it nearly impossible to make out — the combination of text size and screen brightness was too much for me. I concentrated and the blurry screen came into focus. My heart sank. The text was from a friend: “Yo, Phife passed, B.” Continue reading “Rest In Power to the 5 Ft Assassin”