Tribulation House

I was invited to attend an event recently; one like I had never experienced. When asked to attend all I understood, with my selective hearing, was some sort of ‘walk-through’ event. I immediately thought haunted house since it was so close to Halloween. Since I had no Friday evening plans I attended and glad that I did.

Upon arrival there were cars backed up awaiting parking and people of all ages walking around. The parking attendant asked each person if they had reservations; if they did they were passed through, if they did not they were told they could wait to see if someone no shows or instructed to call for reservations. This had to be one awesome haunted house for such a large turn out and the fact that it was FREE was an added bonus. There was food for sale and on-site child care for children under 10 as well. As I observed the scene around me I noted we were at a church. Most churches do not participate in Halloween with haunted houses so I asked again what were we attending and was told the “Tribulation House”.

Annually, the week of Halloween, Old Plank Road Baptist Church on the west side of Jacksonville puts on an event that provides clarity to what is written in the Book of Revelation about the end of times. The event is a walk through production that depicts, scene by scene, what the end of times, according to Revelations, would be like in an unforgettable, potentially life changing manner. What is the Tribulation? It is a future time period when the Lord will judge the unbelieving inhabitants of the world also known as the end of times.

The drama is called “The Choice” and presents attendees with what the Bible says the results would be, dependent on the choice made. If you have never read the Book of Revelations or the Bible, for that matter, but have heard of the end of time event referred to as the rapture and depicted very well in the “Left Behind” Christian film series this will put it all in perspective. As I walked through this very emotional 45 minute to an hour long production I was enlightened, educated and frightened all at the same time. There was crying, yelling, shooting and scenes full of graphic material which gave clarity as to why children under 10 were provided daycare.

We experienced the hell on earth after the rapture, came upon the Book of Life, and encountered Satan followed by an experience with Jesus. It is my understanding that this has been an ongoing event for the past 20 years. I have resided in Jacksonville for 14 of those years and never heard of the Tribulation House. This is what I call a true outreach ministry. I cannot say what this production will do for the next person but I rededicated my life to Christ as a result of this phenomenal experience. I encourage everyone to attend, regardless of your religious or spiritual preferences, when the time comes. There is one more day before you will have to wait until next year so don’t delay, make “THE CHOICE” today!



This video, as it said, it from 2008. Each year the opening scene changes. This year it was similar to "The Voice" hence the name "The Choice".

IT IS HATE OF THE BLACK WOMAN OR THE LOVE OF FAME AND MONEY?

I have noticed an increase of men, predominantly African American men, dressed as women or portraying a feminine role of some sort in the name of comedy. Sites like Vine, Instagram, Snapchat and of course YouTube, just to name a few, have become platforms for men donning women clothing and adorning feminine attitude. What I have noticed even more is the depiction of the black woman in these videos; they seem to always be portrayed negatively. It is said to be funny which seems to make it acceptable to many but in my opinion it sends the wrong messages to our young, impressionable youth. Not just the young male, who think that it is ok to dress up as a woman but the young black female as well. Is this how the African American male sees us? This is a valid question and possibly a decision maker on who not to date as well as how to react when approached by a black male. So my concern here is why? Why are men choosing to dress and act like women on camera? What is causing black men to resort to drag queen activity and taunt black women in the process? Are women easier targets or are they selling their souls for the love of fame? Maybe both. When researching men dressed as women I noticed when famous Caucasian men dressed in drag as means of entertaining, the roles were almost empowering, uplifting even. For example, Dustin Hoffman as "Tootsie", where he reinvents himself to get an acting job and becomes a sensation. The late great Robin Williams as "Mrs. Doubtfire", a man so desperate to see his children he took a job dressed as a woman to be close to them. Let me not forget another late great actor, Patrick Swayze who played Ms. Vida Boheme in "To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar". Although it was a homosexual role he was the most positive of the three in the group. However, when it comes to African American men, not so much the same story. Jamie Foxx and Martin Lawrence played ghetto chicks that were needy, talked and dressed horribly and always looking for a man. Tyler Perry plays a gun-toting, law breaking grandmother who tells it like it is whether you like it or not. I do not believe Comedian Benji Brown is able to complete a standup routine without his ghetto character “Kiki”. The "movement" of wearing women’s clothing has made its way to the music arena with artists like Yung Thug, P Diddy, Kanye West, Snoop, Andre 3000 and Cee-Lo Green being seen in full dresses, blouses and skirts. This on top of the countless no fame, no name black men taking to social media dressing as black women and acting like ratchet hood rats. It comes off as misogyny at its finest in my opinion. I will admit, I have watched a few and gotten great laughs but at what expense? African American women are already stereotyped as the sassy, angry black woman in everyday life. These up and coming social media comedians reinforcing the stereotype by distorting the image of the black woman is nothing but modern day coonery. The degradation of the African American woman’s existence is already taking place through reality television, it does not need the assistance of black men in drag erasing our womanhood. Social sites are a great fun, free way to get your talents seen by the masses. If you are creative and have an idea that needs to be seen, social media is the way to go. In these instances, in my opinion, these black men lack original creative thoughts so the African American woman and all of her negative idiosyncrasies become the brunt of the jokes. We are exploited and capitalized upon all for the hope of fame and glory. I remember when brothers Emmanuel and Phillip Hudson first hit the social media scene. They set YouTube on fire with their feminine antics. They were not dressed like women, until the official video for “She Racheet” was released. Prior to that they portrayed all of the feminine traits they could muster in manly clothing. Emmanuel has since become a regular cast member on the hit MTV comedy show “Wild ‘n Out” hosted by Nick Cannon. I brought Hudson into the picture to show what I believe is driving some black men to behave this way. They believe there is a possible reward for acting a fool for social media, that reward being stardom. Social media has changed what it means to be a celebrity and the mode of getting there. So that brings me back to my original question: Why do we have so many examples of black men dressing up as women for laughs? Is it the hatred of the black woman or an easy, lazy uncreative way to get a foot in the door of fame at the expense of their mother, sister, cousin or possibly even a daughter? The black women they hold dear to them. The O’Jays made a song in 1973 entitled “For The Love of Money”. That song will forever be relevant. There is a line that sticks out to me most and it says “people don’t let money, don’t let money change you, that almighty dollar”.

HE-MAN TOOK MY EYE

Picture it … 1983 in Chesapeake, Virginia. I was in the sixth grade and anyone who knew me knew I loved my after school cartoons, especially boyish cartoons. After all, I was one of the biggest tom boys on the block. A new cartoon had just come out and I was anxious to see what it was about. After the first episode, I have to admit, it had me glued to the television everyday between 3 p.m. and 4 p.m. What cartoon was this? Well I am glad you asked. It was "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe" and it was a great addition to my after school cartoon line up. I was the oldest of two younger sisters and they knew during this time to leave me alone, no exceptions.

On this one fine day, I believe it was a Friday because I did not have school the next day, a few of the neighborhood boys decided they wanted to harass my sisters. This, in turn, caused them to harass me and this made me very unhappy. Now usually being pulled into conflict was ok, I loved to pummel the neighborhood boys. Did that make me a bully too or a hero? Who knows and who cared because this was not the time for heroics, conflicts or anything else as He-Man was on. That is the only thing that was on my mind.

I sat in my usual spot, reclined, drink and snacks in hand watching He-Man and enjoying my after school moment when in runs my two younger sisters and a friend screaming that three neighborhood boys would not leave them alone. I ignored them until the commercial break and politely instructed them to tell those boys to leave them alone because I said so. That usually worked on so many levels but for some reason it did not work today. A few minutes later in comes the three amigos with another plea to come outside and tell the little boys to leave them alone. Since there was no commercial break coming soon as one had just gone off I had to divert my attention from one of my favorite shows to these three screaming little girls just to say what I had already said: tell them to leave you alone because I said so. They left to tell the boys what I had said, once again, and back to my show I went. We had a full hour of He-Man so that meant two episodes during that time. This was their only saving grace because I knew I had another episode to catch.

To step aside from the sibling/bully madness for a moment, let me explain what was going on inside the house at this time. This was the home belonging to my great-grandparents and my great-grandfather decided on this day to work on home improvements. The one that was a problem for me was the screen door. This screen door had been broken for months. It did not close all the way and the latch did not work. When going out of the house you simply had to push the door open since the latch was broken. It swung open like the doors of an old western saloon. Just push and out you go. Have the visual now? Good so moving on.

The harassment by my younger sisters and their friend continued with each time aggravating me more and more. By the time I was half way through the second episode I was completely livid. My grandfather had already been fussing because my sisters had been running in and out of the door while he was attempting to fix it. That did not help either because it had gotten to the point where he was even yelling at me to go outside and help my sisters. That was the breaking point for me. Here I was trying to enjoy my cartoons, minding my business, staying out of trouble yet getting in trouble at the same time. Who does this? So at the next commercial break I am heading outside. I slam the recliner back down, throw the remote in the chair and storm outside behind my sisters completely in a rage. Yeah, I had anger issues when provoked.

Now let me set the scene, by this time my grandfather had completed the door project and was sitting at the dinner table drinking coffee at almost 5 o’clock in the evening. The door now had to be opened by using the handle, no more swinging door. This scene, as I remember it, makes me think of something out of a movie. So think of an extremely slowed down scene where all voices were deep and dragging. I am running out of the den area, through the kitchen past my grandfather headed down the hallway to go outside. I was completely angered so I did not even notice my sisters used the handle. I am in mid-fuss, running about 5 miles per hour seriously with my arms extended straight out to push the screen door open. Here comes the dream moment. As I am running, I run through the door. I look up to see a big piece of glass drop and immediately drop my head.

When I get outside I look back and think to myself how crazy that would have been if that had happened for real. I pick up speed yelling because I want to get back inside to finish the last half of the second episode of He-Man when I hear screams. These were screams like someone was being tortured and now I am really mad because I thought the boys were really hurting my sisters, that was until I heard them screaming too. I heard one of them yell look at her eye and they all took off. My sisters were screaming and crying as their friend ran home. I am standing next to my great-grandparents car as all of this is going on and looked in the window. I noticed the front of my shirt and face were covered in something red. I bend down to look in the mirror and it is there that I see my eye hanging completely out of the socket. It was just dangling through the huge gash in my face. My grandfather had begun fussing until I turned around and he saw my eye. He then begins to scream, calling for my grandmother to call an ambulance. As I stood in the hallway listening to everyone around me it still did not seem real. I looked in the hallway mirror at my disfigured face with an eyeball hanging out of it and begin to poke at my eye. Why did I do that? My grandmother smacked the crap out of my hand and yelled at me to leave it alone.

The rest of family reached the hospital around the same time and I could hear them being rushed to the back. I am covered by a sheet so I can’t see anyone but I hear the doctor tell my mother and grandmother had the glass hit me one centimeter to the left I would have lost my eye. I remember being given a numbing medicine in my face via two needles, it hurt like hell. I was ready to fight the doctors and nurses until my mother smacked my arm and put me back in my right mind. After it was all said and done, I left with 27 stitches under my right eye and 10 steri-strips on my right wrist. There was a gash there as well but not deep enough to warrant stitches. Needless to say I was the coolest graduating sixth grader that year as I crossed the stage in my cap and gown with sun shades to get my certificate of completion. The first of my facial ruins.