I always suspected Richard Pryor’s pain was real but now I know his pain was real because I just read an interview with Quincy Jones who talks about dancing the cha-cha with Marlon Brando, who could dance his ass off, loved to fuck and was fucking Richard Pryor.

They were lovers – birds of a feather – Richard Pryor’s widow confirmed it.

My mind leaps to “Live & Smokin.” I google. I can’t take my eyes off Richard Pryor as he rips himself apart. It’s a different time. I don’t feel the time. But I feel Pryor.

Wow. My mind goes wow. And I’m mad at myself for the wow. But I have to admit the wow, since I’m programmed to be homophobic and this is the reaction of the homophobia I’ve been programmed to accept as a normal reaction. It’s not normal. My reaction is the opposite of normal. But I don’t know how to turn it off.

My mind leaps to other people I don’t know but they’re famous so I think I know them and I ask myself why? Why is it when I hear Brad Pitt is with Jennifer Aniston but then leaves Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie and then many years later Angelina Jolie leaves Brad Pitt and so Brad Pitt goes back to Jennifer Aniston and I accept it without the wow because I understand a penis goes with a vagina and a vagina goes with a penis and I understand beautiful people wanting to fuck other beautiful people, birds of a feather.

Marlon Brando is beautiful. Richard Pryor is beautiful. So why the wow about them fucking? How do I turn off the wow?

To answer the question I give my full attention to “Live & Smokin.” I watch Richard Pryor talk about sucking dick and letting dudes cum in his mouth. I listen to the crowd react. At first they’re silent. They don’t know what to do with the information. Then they think Pryor is joking. So they laugh. He’s joking. Of course he’s joking, since Pryor is respectful of the room. He knows they want laughs. He knows how to deliver laughs. He understands the cage. He asked to be put in the cage. He’s singing. But at the same time, on a deeper level, he’s not joking. He’s trying to heal. But it’s not working. He’s talking to the room in 1971. They’re not with him but Pryor is such a genius, he almost brings them around to his side. Almost. Which is close enough for 1971. I suppose. Now I’m in the room, watching in 2018. Praise be to almighty google. I’m on his side. I’m with him all the way. I’m with him but he’s not here in the room with me now to know I’m with him and I wish he knew.

My feathers look like yours.