It was 1976, and I had entered a school-wide essay writing contest on the Bicentennial. I placed third in my grade, the prize for which was an apple-scented oil lamp. (Just what every 13 yr old boy wants... an oil lamp.)

This has given me FLASHBACKS. Every parent about to lay down some shit has a particular spot they like to leave it. The corner of the island in the kitchen when you first walked in - you better look the fuck out

Apple: Guys, guys, it’s cool. We’ve sat with him in a conference room for several hours, sometimes even once a month for like, at least a year, and he never once hit a lady while he was here. Well, there were no ladies in the room, but one time one brought in some coffee and it was totally chill. Oh, and we decided to…

“My press agent told me I’m deeply sorry for anything that may hurt my movie revenues.”

Abusers often feel like they're actually the victims. It's a pattern and a way to avoid responsibility.

If such contrition isn’t shared with the actual victims, it’s fucking meaningless. True atonement requires facing the people you’ve hurt and making amends for the damage you’ve caused.

Legacy protection ain’t easy, eh, Dre?

Honestly, that pissed me off. I feel like people don’t want to call them out because it’s so rare that we get films with POC as leads, but bull fucking shit. A lot of WOC, including myself, can’t stand these guys. I can separate the art from the artist, but the problem is the misogyny that characterized the artist…

Mental. He’s hailed as legend. Abusing women is part of his legacy; I wonder if he’s proud of that? Hate when I see these violent assholes mugging it up and being heaped with praise.

“I was just a quiet girlfriend who got beat on and told to sit down and shut up.” This is followed by an uncomfortable silence. “My part has no value to, probably, what they really want to talk about,”