Ray J is going to college, y’all. And while that sounds like the name of a new reality show helmed by Mona Scott-Young, it’s an actual factual true statement. According to his Instagram account, Ray J, real name Willie Ray Norwood, has decided to enroll at Philander Smith College, a historically black college located…

According to the crackerjack group of meteorologists who service the Washington, D.C., area (or at least the ones on the stations I watch who shall remain nameless), today would be a day with some snow flurries early, perhaps some light accumulation on the grass and this evening would be a likely mess full of heavy…

THIS ARTICLE HAS LIGHT SPOILERS, BUT SPOILERS NONETHELESS.

Like many a southern rap fan, I grew up on André and Antwan, better known as André 3000 and Big Boi, and even better known as Outkast. When all the players came from far and wide, I too wanted to attend the “Player’s Ball.” What’s the funkiest kind of music for my soul? Southernplayalistickcadillackmuzik, of course.…

Have you watched the show God Friended Me? It comes on CBS on Sunday nights, and let me tell you, I love this damn show. I can’t tell you exactly why, but I do. For whatever reason, as on-the-nose as nearly every aspect of the show is, it just ... works.

Most of the United States set their clocks back an hour this past weekend to mark the end of Daylight Savings Time, an invention the white man (no, really, also the first sentence of that article is some pure bullshit) created to apparently save the daylight for the evenings, which to be clear, is nowhere near as…

Let me be very clear, I love Belly. I love love it. When Mary J. Blige sang about “Real Love” in 1992, a whole ass six years before Belly would be released to the masses, she had no idea that she was singing my soul’s affinity for Hype Williams’ best music video ever. And what’s not to love? For a person like myself,…

On October 3, Wesley Morris, in a piece for the New York Times Magazine titled “The Morality Wars,” sounded the alarm (in a nutshell) about the difficulty in critiquing black art in today’s political climate in favor of protecting the culture.

There are a few songs that I can remember exactly where I was the first time I heard them. Juvenile’s “Ha” is one of them. I remember sitting on the futon in my house in what must have been early October 1998 (because of when the single was released) watching Rap City, while on a break from class at Morehouse College,…

SpelHouse Homecoming, the joint celebration between Spelman College and Morehouse College, happened this past weekend in Atlanta. If you’ll remember, last week, I had to ask God for a little assistance because in the forecast even up to the day before the event, there was a strong chance of rain on Friday and…

I’m not a fan of haunted houses. Hell, I’m not even really a fan of scary movies. It’s not that I scare easy; it’s just that I don’t like surprises. Haunted houses are all about surprises and startling the shit out of you. Don’t startle me, bro. Ya know? However, outside of Atlanta exists a meshing of haunting with a…

When I was alerted to a beer robbery in Arlington, Texas, that happened last week, I assumed some white dude ran into a convenience store, pulled a pistol out, and headed out with some hops. I assumed as much because that story would make sense, or as much sense as any crime can make.

I’m a pretty open-minded chap. I’m not a foodie but will try almost anything. I even listen to country music. That open-mindedness led me to a pumpkin-spiced debacle last week.

Dear God,

To quote Shug Avery from The Color Purple, “I’se married now!”

This goes out to you and you — you know who you are, so stop me if you’ve heard this one before. You’re driving along a thoroughfare, minding your own business. Maybe you’re even listening to your favorite true-crime podcast as you venture into work, traffic court, or to that Brazilian wax appointment you’ve been…

Earlier this year, several folks in my family (including myself) did some variation of DNA testing. You know what I’m talking about; the tests where you send in your DNA and apparently, the government owns and can clone you, but you get to find out, especially if you’re black, that maybe your family originates from…

One of the fun things about this here semi-charmed life of mine is that over the course of the past, say, 12 years, I’ve had the opportunity to meet more famous folks than I can shake a stick at. At this point, it’s harder for me to remember who all I’ve met; I’ve probably forgotten more folks than I can remember.

I do not know the name of the spider who decided to fuck with me while I was driving home last night. He looked like his name could have been Ivan. Or perhaps Svetlana. Maybe even Sharkeisha. What I do know is that this lone-wolf spider decided that he was going to play with my emotions and gaslight me for the better…

Before we get going here, I’d like to be very, very clear: I’m in no way clowning Lil’Jordan Humphrey by calling his name (his first name) the Blackest Name Ever. In fact, I find this to be a compliment and culturally significant. We’ll get back to that.