Keep Your Hands to Yourself

Joe takes a hands-off approach to the ladies.

Hey Joe: Is it ever all right to hit a woman? Let's say, if she hit you first?

Ike Turner, San Marcos, California

I live by the this adage: "Let your conscience be your guide." Hitting ladies isn't the proper thing to do, though I suppose millions throughout society would like to know exactly what is proper. My prescribed method is a steady diet of Christian traits — but not with the intents many professed Christians claim. The church in America has failed. The reason? It has no conscience. God is being peddled on the basis of tithes — the more one gives, the larger the financial reward in return. However, thank God for the Bible and those who are true to it. Even though there are those of good will, society is still corrupt, but imagine having lived in it without the Bible. The country would be barbaric.

No greater sin could have ever been committed than that of a clergyman who sits before a television audience and proclaims to cure certain illnesses as he speaks with God, and the donations they give to his institution will seal the deal through his prayers. In other words, God's blessings have a cover charge. I've always been under the impression that the source of God's three basic laws are that there shall be no other gods before Him; love; and obedience. According to the Bible, man's narrow-mindedness has destroyed the laws of God. Just recently, Michael Vick — with all his wealth and God-given talent — chose to follow man's corrupt idea of sport in dogfighting, a most brutal form of entertainment. Now he is at the point of his own destruction. This is what happens when God is omitted.

For some selfish reason, man feels he has a monopoly over woman. And if women fail to yield to his desires, it affects his ego. Ultimately, he resorts to physical violence as his way of subduing them. Men gaining control over women through force is nothing new. If it were, there would be no need for the numerous women's abuse centers scattered across the nation. The control issue dates back to the Constitution. Those who feel they must be in control are insecure people. I doubt the average person realizes that a love affair between man and woman works two ways and consists of two loves: a physical love as well as a spiritual love.

If one party makes a habit of betraying the physical aspect (which is based upon intimacy), there is no conscience. The other party should become strong enough to sever the relationship before hatred develops, thus salvaging the spiritual love. But a person can't be forced to do what they don't want to do. Jerry Springer's TV show is prime example of not addressing the issue properly: women beat men, and security guards disallow men to strike back, therefore placing the men in a helpless situation. But what happens once the guards are removed? We're right back at square one. Women should be taught the right way. Since the Church and Springer fail to convey morality, Dr. Phil is their last hope. p>

Prince Joe Henry, one of professional baseball's original "clowns," was an all-star infielder for Negro League baseball teams in Memphis, Indianapolis and Detroit throughout the 1950s. But up until the late 1940s, Prince Joe didn?t know anything about the Negro Leagues. His knowledge of organized baseball was limited to the Cardinals and Browns games he attended during his preteen years at Sportsman?s Park, accompanied by lifelong buddy Eugene "Gene" Crittendon, who could pass for white. Perhaps Henry?s most vivid memory of those games: Upon entry, white ushers would politely escort the boys to a small section of the left-field stands reserved for "Colored." After climbing past several tiers of bleachers, they?d arrive at their stop, rows and rows behind their white counterparts. Even at a young age, the boys were conscious of the double standard -- and determined to vent their disdain. The opportunity would arise with the urge to urinate. Rather than head for the latrine, the boys would edge their way to the front of the section and let fly. As the liquid foamed its way down the concrete steps toward the white kids, Henry and his pal would ease back and relax, politely rooting for the visiting team to beat the hell out of the Browns or the Cards. After all, Henry and Crittendon hailed from Brooklyn, Illinois, a small, predominantly black township just east of the Mississippi River. So hospitable were the residents of Brooklyn that they were known to take in a rank stranger, treat him to breakfast, lunch, supper and a night out on the town -- and afterward, if he messed up, treat him to a good ass-whippin'. Direct questions on any and all topics to heyjoe@riverfronttimes.com. If we don't like yours, we'll hit Joe with our own.

 
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