Version 2.0

Culture, healing, politics and bullshit - Not necessarily in that order

The general, socio-political and very personal rantings and ravings of a hip hop head from the hood hustling for change... Of himself.

You all know me and are aware that I am unable to remain silent. At times to be silent is to lie. For silence can be interpreted as acquiescence.
—Miguel de Unamuno


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Thursday, May 26, 2005

Freedom Does Come With A Price

How far would you go to get free? I've been asking my kinfolk that for a while now. What I learned is that a lot of folks talk freedom, but are afraid to come out of their shackles. Easier said than done pretty much sums it up when speaking with friends and family. The fact of the matter is that a lot of us really don't want to put much effort up when it comes to change. The comfort of knowing that even though one is a slave to whatever it may be, there is a guarantee that the same whatever holding us back will be there tomorrow.

Or will it?

I guess what I'm talking about is one who has an opportunity, you know the ability to make change either in their lives or others and just doesn't. It amazes me that I know (or know of) so many people that are capable of doing some remarkable things either for themselves or others, but because fear of the unknown and the possibility of going outside one's comfort zone they just won't do it.

Make change.

How hard can it be?

I just found a "loophole" if you will to free myself from corporate America for good and provide financial stability for years to come. We all want that kind of freedom, right? Here's the catch:

Even though I make my own hours (I'll be done by 4pm) and manage myself, I'll have to cater to folks I don't even know. I'll have to take a loss and live like a vagabond for at least 2 months (operating expenses and start up costs suck!). I'll have to do a lot of driving (I hate unnecessary driving, especially in Chicago). I have to provide my own insurance. I'll miss out on various events (4th of July, sporting events I planned to attend, concerts and shows) which means sacrificing my summer. I'll get no vacation.

Or I could take this job being offered in Vegas that comes with a housing allowance...

The struggle will always be there. If I take (a sales position) the job in Las Vegas, I'll have to get to know new places and people, but there's a couple of folks here that I still didn't get to know the way I wanted. The stress of relocating and work performance is almost the same as seeing all of my money go towards home expenses and business costs while starting up my new thang, right?

In the past two weeks, I had more people tell me to go for another job in cubicle city rather than start up my own business because it is what they would do. Some of these folks complain about what they have in a job and what they don't have due to that same job.

I already know what I'm going to do...

Which struggle would you pick?

Wednesday, May 25, 2005


Peace and Blessings in the name of the most high...

I just had a load of time fall into my lap lately, and I have
been feverishly working on the album and the poetry joint.
I planned on vacationing in the next couple of weeks but I
just had ton on inspiration hit me and I couldn't leave with
new ideas and concepts on my mind.

I was working on some joints for my "The Power of the
Hand" project which is a culmination new ideas I had
bridging the spoken word onto a harder track base ala
Saul Williams, Zack De La Rocha, you know - them cats. I
love the spoken word. I feel with all of the saturation of
pop-ish, radio friendly tracks, and over crunked out songs
(don't get it twisted, I luvs the crunk) that the lyrics
themselves can get lost in translation.

I'm a kid of the 70's and 80's. At that time the tracks that
emcees dropped were fresh to def, but attention was
especially paid to the lyrical content. Hip Hop was fresh
and new, and we had to know what was being said,
that
era was so influential to future Mic controllers. During my
time as an emcee trying to rock a record deal from 88 to
2000, I always made sure that clarity was a trait that I
displayed, and even after my so called retirement from Mic
rocking in 2000, I fell in love with performing using the
power of the spoken word. Hip Hop never got away from
me. The reaction and love given back when I was dropping
phrases rather than rapping by some of my peers and
extended family gave me more than the crowds that I got
a chance to rock and the heads that nodded to The
Underground Movement's joints MorninMan and me
created back in the day.

So now after me bowing to corporate America and
MorninMan perfecting his craft starting a family and
earning his stripes as a dope ass producer/DJ/studio
conveyor, the Movement is being resurrected... I just can't
drop just plain ol' beats and rhymes, we've grown. In our
growth as men, in fatherhood, being family men,
businessmen, beatmakers , rhymesayers & writers and our
growth in the love of Hip Hop we just can't sit on the
sidelines and let Hip Hop move without our contribution of
some soulful shit.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Wouldya?

If you had a chance to escape corporate America, well... Would you?

Why would you go back, other than the obvious (money)?

Just wonderin'...

Monday, May 16, 2005

Forsaken...

The ones that are the closest to you are the ones that forsake
you. The saddest part is, they evict you when they are down, pick
you apart when you at your lowest and after all of that kick you
when you are down. I've come to expect that from my loved ones
now and it's a crying shame.

I won't call their names because they know who they are.

Mostly it's family members and people you share your soul with.

I thank you for kicking me and accusing me of falsehoods, it only
makes me stronger, but at the same time it also makes me trust
those I have not even met or have gotten to know even less.

God puts people in your life for a reason.

He also gives you obstacles there too. Your job and mine is to
overcome them. When you cannot, that's when it is time to reach
out to those that can understand and just let things take flight.
That is hard. No one will ever really get what they want until they
submit to the fact that they are not in control. God is. The day we
all realize that is the day we will all be free.

But for now in the same breath I wish I never either met, interacted
or was born into such toxic situations and am glad I got a chance
to experience the hardships of your lives and at least attempted to
be a part and share whatever was with mine. I've learned from
that. The sad part is that we never got a chance to share in the
triumph of overcoming. I looked forward to that. The good thing is
that the hatred and contempt had for me is not reflected in my
thoughts and feelings for any of you. Not that I'm better or have
overcome my problems, faults and flaws but I try to not pass
judgement because I am just as fucked up as the next person.

But you never saw that over your own flaws. And for that I thank
you.

Thanks for reminding me how much of an ass I am. Thanks for
letting me know every little thing I have ever done that made you
feel contempt in your heart. Thank you for pointing out my
shortcomings. Thanks for bringing up every dollar amount that I
either owe or have blown in an attempt to get my thang in order.
Thanks for telling me how much of a monster I am when it comes
to dealing with what did not belong to me: your feelings. Thanks
for letting me know that I did not qualify to even stand ground in
your square and that you had to stoop lower than you've done
before just to deal with me. I never knew I was gutter trash.
Thanks for not even giving thought to all of the deeds I have done
in an attempt to make life better for whomever. Thanks for letting
me know that I was never appreciated. Thanks for indicating to me
that I never had a shot to hold love in your heart. Now that I know
these things I will move forward in making my life better so the next
so called friend, girlfriend, brother and sister or parent won't
experience this.

Thanks for never calling me by my chosen name.

But in the same vain, thanks for being there. Thanks for giving.
Thank you for sharing and breaking bread with me. Thanks for the
shoulder. Thanks for the advice, loans and words of
encouragement when I needed them. Thanks for the prayers. I am
forever grateful.

Now that I have been forsaken, I hope I'm forgotten.

Saturday, May 14, 2005

And I Thought I Was A Mess

Have you seen this piece of work?

Most of the time, I keep my place in "about to mode". You know what I mean, I was about to clean my house, but I didn't get time because (fill in the blanks here). Well, add R Kelly's place to the house cleaning list now, because he got some folks straight livid after the premier of the second installment of his "In The Closet" series.

So it seems in chapter two, Kels finds himself facing his mistress' man gun in hand. It seems that the woman's husband has a little secret to get out now that all of the cards are on the table. He asks Kelly if he knew he was a pastor, and R feels that since this guy is a reverend, they can talk this thing thru, but the rev has other things in mind. He picks up his cell and calls his booty call and asks them to turn around and come to the flat, he wants everybody to meet. Kels finds this pretty peculiar and threatens to shoot this guy if he doesn't tell him what his next move is, and the rev pleads that he should wait for his little surprise.

Kels isn't going for this, he feels threatened and begins a countdown before he snaps off and shoots his way out of the 5th floor apartment. As the woman pleads for her and her husband's life, the right reverend'd phone rings. It's his cheating partner in the lobby, he instructs them to take the stairs and get there quickly. As Kelly is counting down to one and the woman he just had sex with is pleading and screaming for her life the door opens... It's a man.

Damn.

Keep it on the down low indeed.

It looks like brother Robert needs a little housecleaning of his own.All of his trash continues to pile up and I think its making him a little sick. This ain't "Honey Love" or "Down Low" for that matter. This is some new and improved, sick shit (excuse my French). It seems after the debut of the first installment of this five parter radio stations across the country clammored to be the first to premier the second. It just so happened that the hometown radio outlet was the first to let the cat out of the bag, and the response was overwhelming. Overwhelmingly bad.

But I'll let you be the judge...

Friday, May 13, 2005

Who Informs Us of Us?

I was rumbling about, just wandering onto the black blogsphere when I was hit with the stark realization that we are ignored.

Most of the time, unless it matters.

To them.

Usually, unless we really want to trick off a little paper (or have the paper to trick off like that), inviting 600 guests to a srping wedding is not a common occurrence in these here parts. I definitely understand the concern that anyone would have if the wedding is either postponed or called off (back to the whole tricking off thing) because if it's that big, I would have certainly RSVP'd early and would be bringing the camcorders because there will be a sintilating story to tell..

I'm sure we all know about the young, pretty white girl that punked out (thanks Rashunda) and fled her own marriage shindig by now, but what about pretty black girls? I guess it takes a little tricking off for us to be relevant, or does Diddy have to throw another party? No offense to Fiddy, Flav or anyone else that the press runs to to get a story, but...

It burns my ass to know that the only time our sisters get that same press is when it feeds into the negative aspect that has been associated with our people for the span of our stay here in America. We know all about Kim, Foxy and their problems. We also know that the guv'ment raised the bar in getting help to extradite a "known notorious killer" (we got love for you, but we know you know that). But when a sister comes up missing, if it wasn't for the grass roots, we'd never know.

Why is it the ones that matter the most, the ones we should die to protect are the ones seen as expendable?

If it wasn't for MotherSister, we would have nothing.

Rashunda has a brilliant idea that I think the black blogsphere should take into consideration. I think we should be on the lookout for our own. It doesn't hurt me to say this, we need to rep for ourselves more than we do now. It's not a good feeling to know that some of our sister's stories fall to the background while the media pushes stories like ol' girl's little expedition to nowhere.
Damn, it's sad... That's why we gotta be the media for ourselves.

Any other way and it won't be covered.