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


.
.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Energy

I didn't think I'd have the energy to make it thru this week seeing that I am currently taking medication to rid myself of a bacterial infection, but I pretty much slept thru the whole weekend.

Gives me the much needed energy to get my learn on about my position with big oil.

Yesterday was my father's birthday, and although I'm not a celebrator I called him anyway and ended up talking about my truth. We haven't spoken since March I believe and even though we always have much to discuss we just didn't cross paths since that time.

He already knew about me, and not what he heard from my sister or brothers.

He knew that I had drained myself stressing over my attempts to get back on track healthwise and my dealings with folks and situations here in Houston and told me to stay the course because like I always tell him: "The Creator Has A Masterplan". He's more spititual these days after going thru the shit as a younger man dealing with my sibs and I, my mother and being a black man in the 60's thur 80's. He got caught up with drugs and split with my mom. He then got his shit together and has been a valuable asset in my life ever since. He always has energy.

I also gained energy this weekend by being told certain things. Not things I wanted to hear, but truths that needed to be spoken. Whatever happens in my life is what I want to happen, I just had to hear that same mantra from her. I am already obligated to so much, I wanted to know that my obligations to her were exactly what was stated in the beginning and it had to be said. Not that I didn't believe her now as opposed to then but when the vibe changed between us sometime ago it was very negative in my assessment. Not only did I hate that vibe (and I still do), I hated the fact that at one point I was expected to continue to go down that vibe's path and I wasn't going to regardless.

You 'know' me, I fight shit that I even think is against me and what I want to do.

My dreams have already been deferred and getting up from my most recent fall has been the hardest thing for me to overcome. I thought it was physical or monetary but Pops basically stated that I needed the help in getting up in all aspects and sometimes it's in a person to give themselves so that the other can rise. "Repayment is something so different and spiritual, no matter what you do you cannot block the blessings she'll receive as a result of dealing with your ass. Continue to do yourself son, when the spirit is finished with you repayment would have already taken place and you'll know how to transition into your next self and she will too."

That's why I hadn't spoken to Pops in a minute. I needed the proper energy to receive the message that was meant for me. Some things still don't make sense to me but I'll ride this wave of energy until I get better understanding. Like, why did I get these messages this weekend? What brought all of that out and why did I have to hear certain things that I thought I already knew all over again?

That's how energy is. Same instructions on the box, different vibe.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Memorial Day

Konichiwa, bitches...

I've aways liked Memorial Day Weekend. It normally has been the weekend where I got together with a few of my old military mates and shot the shit about who did what and how good we looked doing it back in the day when we wore a uniform for our power drunk uncle.


You've seen that before. Yeah, those days.


Yeah man, that is always the shit. Every year, I'd find some unlucky som' bitch (or group of som' bitches) that'll have a beer or twelve with me and pay tribute to the fallen and talk a gang of shit, but this year is a first that I'm not hanging out with the Cold Steel Crew. No ceremonies, no alcohol-influenced tales from the land of sand, no fibbing about maxing one's PT test. It's just me, writhing in pain and periodically losing consciousness due to the medications I'm popping for some staph infection I picked up last fall (thanks to Doc Rod of the Houston VA for the extra work and this important info). Seems that I got infected (probably while in Salt Lake City while utilizing my former trucking company's facilities, maybe from the facility in Chicago where I did my rehab. WAIT... The children's hospital I volunteered from September to January...) while receiving treatment for my torn rotator cuff.

It's cool. I'm pretty bad ass on this one. Just lay around, play a little solitaire, fiddle with my PDA, surf the net a little bit when I'm awake and diddle with the tracks Al and I did a few months ago. I'm keeping busy enough to wanna blank out for a few hours and still have enough energy to go and slave for big oil's stanking ass next week. Sleep is the new black. It looks good on me.

I don't miss the fellas that much, but I wish I could have done something with em this weekend. Every year it seems that someone gets dead or divorced or something, so I hope to hell things stay the same for any impromptu reunions we have in the near future.

I hope you remember that cousin or uncle, your brother, father or son. Your sister, Ma Dukes, husband, wife or auntie that either has served or who are currently serving somewhere in between bites of them tender-ass ribs. Lick your fingers, put em together and say a prayer and thank them for doing the impossible.

Because freedom ain't free y'all. Somebody has to pay so you can get your 'que on.

Time for another nap... With y'all stankin' barbecuing asses

Friday, May 25, 2007

Last Weekend Of Spring And I've Misplaced My Mojo

Have you ever reached a point where you had so much to say, a whole lot of emotion to express but was stymied by some unseen force and wasn't up to task to fight back hard enough to get those things out?

I think I'm at that point.

Maybe it's the medication I was given at the beginning of the week that has me feeling a lil on the extra, extra tired tip. Who knows? There is so much I want to get out and put here in this canvas but I feel like I just don't have the time to do it. Whenever I get the urge to do something, especially this week I've put it off and pretty much slept that time away. I'm writing this during the time I usually get myself ready to go to work, so this text is being forced.

It's day three at the new gig and I really appreciate the opportunity to roll with big oil. There is a lot to learn and even more to do in the role I was given. I should excel in that position once I get my bearings and start floating my own boat. Thing is, do I really deserve to be there feeling the way I do?

Me dropping everything (art included) to come to Texas is really hitting me hard right now. It's about 90 days in and I'm starting to really get uncomfortable to the point of going stir crazy if it wasn't for this job. I miss all of the little things about Chicago, Atlanta and Salt Lake City. The fact that I know folks in those places and could easily stroll into a pub, cafe or someone's place and have familiarity with the people, places and things that make these places special to me in some manner is one of the biggest things I miss badly.

I also miss my sibs, nieces and nephews
And my cats
And the few folks that I called friend
my ability to hang off the end of the bar at Rannalli's in Chicago
andthe soup thingee and weird cappuccino at Java Monkey in Decatur
and eating breakfast with Pops
being in Al's basement, putting something together in the name of Hip Hop

I can't get any of that here, and I wish for the life of me that I could have five minutes in with any on of those things on my list above.

The summer begins and my guy Troy ain't calling me to go hang out til the crack of dawn's ass. It's going to be weird adjusting to being in Houston as a functional person, but I'll manage I suppose. As long as I can get my creative mojo back then I'll be able to do anything.

Have you seen my mojo?

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

To The Left, To The Left...

My thanks for the well wishes. The medication will kick in soon, then it's on.

While I was writhing in pain this weekend I made sure to clear out my Saturday night to check out the newest VH1 Rock Doc titled: The Last Days Of Left Eye. I have always been a fan of Lisa Lopes and really fell into her solo joint 'Supernova' when it finally came out. Her writing on that one right there is introspective and very sharing of her mindset in the wake of all of the madness that took us all for a ride a few years before.

I was amazed in her awareness and acquisition of knowledge and how she applied it to better herself. I love the fact that she traveled to be where her mind could be free of the clutter that confused and influenced her into doing some very negative things. She was definitely on some grown person ish the last years of her life. I wish she could have continued her missions. She had influence over so many.

I heard about the documentary she was filming during the last days of her life and I never thought that the films would ever be released for us to see. I applaud her family and producers for letting us know her truth, even if it is 5 years after the fact.

The controversy over if the film should be released and what actually happened during filming is running ablaze all over the internet, is the major focus of office chatter and in IM conversations . I wish that we would sometimes take what we see, process it and then attempt to learn from it before we get our blab on. What I saw is probably not what you saw, but if you saw it, then I'm sure you had an opinion. Just know that everything shouldn't be sensationalized. Even in death, Lisa Lopes is still on the mouths of folks in the hood. She even spoke about an incident involving the initial press conference for TLC's last album 'Fan Mail'. She basically felt that she would still be the star even if she chose to no-show. Matter of fact, she no-showed and became a bigger star and the focus the the group's latest endeavor in doing so. Pre-calculated sure, but Left Eye always knew how to make us want more of her.

If you don't know, Lisa was heavy into numerology and astrology, and had many a premonition and dreams involving 'spirits' that were chasing her. She felt that the universe had an order and Karma and the natural selection of how things should be will one day adjust thru the involvement of one's life and what would either happen or wouldn't happen. She swore that even though she felt at ease with herself, was giving in every aspect of her being that eventually the spirit would catch up with her and adjust accordingly.

On the day before her own life ended, she hit a young Honduran boy and he slipped into a coma and eventually died hours after due to his injuries. Lisa 'knew' that death had the wrong person and even said that death got the wrong person. The little boy's last name was Lopes.

She paid for all of his family's expenses and helped prep the boy for his funeral and burial.
She kept the shoes he died in.
While holding the shoes in front of the camera, she mentioned that death chose the wrong Lopes.
She also shared a dream she had the night before about her being on another plane.
The last week of filming, she totally lost control of filming, her guests and the overall vibe.

She knew

The next morning, she wanted to drive the whole crew she came to Honduras with to a spot to get shots of the countryside with the film crew. From the look of the documentary they made it to get those shots and then hit the road.

Her brother had a cam in the front seat of the truck she was driving and filmed the accident. They showed footage of this up to the moment of impact. It had been noted that the whole thing was shot, and a while ago audio was released from the video footage, so there is additional video of the accident, but the documentary was tasteful enough to only give us what we need to know for our own understanding, and for that I am grateful.

The one thing that will haunt me and make me smile in the same moment is the look Lisa had on her face mere seconds before the crash. I have never in my life seen that look on anyone's face.

Ever.

Lisa Nicole Lopes was at peace with her existence, and damn if I know, I think she knew. Not probably in that particular moment, but it's an old Klingon saying: "Today is a good day to die!"

The look on her face and her overall vibe that day was just that. That and "Today is a day to have no regrets and I have no enemies and no undone resolutions". I got closure on the understanding it takes to write the incredible album 'Supernova' is. You might not like the overall vibe or the track selection, but I urge you to cop that joint and listen. As a writer and a cat that records, I struggle to have the clarity in writing her emotions relays in that project. There should be more artists with talent like Left Eye had.

As I sit here on the mend, I hope and pray to any and all that is sacred and holy that one day I can get to the place she was with herself before I leave this place. I struggle with the overall satisfaction in the quality of my life and what I'm doing with it to be effective in finding my place of peace every day. Most times I'm disappointed in where I am and what I'm doing, not to make an impact in other people's lives, but the impact to me. I need to ensure myself that I have done something to contribute to the betterment of someone, something or just some____ in general. In my 36 years I haven't even made a pencil sketch of my charcoal masterpiece, so in today's affirmation of who I am and what I must do to be useful before I'm flower food I pledge to be more aware of the forces unseen so I can do what I can to avoid ones that are distracting and draining and gravitate towards the spiritual that can help me define us by helping me define myself by giving more of me, my time and what I can from my wallet.

I now have yet another blueprint in Lisa on how to get there.

Five years removed and she still amazes and impresses me. There are few that have done this and they know who they are, I've written about some, there are a couple that inspire me to continue my creative journey. I hope to amass a list of these folks so in my last moments I can feel the sense of completion that Lisa and those others had and have, make a complete rundown of em', smile and leave much quieter and with less drama than I did when I got here.

Ya dig?


Monday, May 21, 2007

INFECTED!!!

Peace fam...

I just got back from the hospital and somehow I have an infection in both kidneys. I got poked and prodded, quizzed and interrogated in what seemed to be the longest 4 hours in my life. Everything is cool so far other than me being in considerable pain. It burns more on the right side of my lower back than the left. I can feel my friggin kidneys burn. Ain't that something? Now you would think that I would have the 'it rains when it pours' attitude now but I'm not even on that right now.

I got a handful of the VA's finest elixirs and formulary tablets...

I just need a little time to get it in my system and let it work. I have never felt the type of pain that I feel now, it's kind of new and exciting and scary as hell all in the same breath. A lot has happened to my physical being since August of last year and I'm still here.

Let me heal. I'll be around.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

In Response to Your Last Letter...

I ain't even responding to that last piece of bullshit.

I got the blog on Saturdays and Sundays you little bitch.

I already know why you act the way you act and why you're all passive in your most recent actions. You stopped believing in a higher power and the shit hit you the moment you got back to Chicago last September.

You have always been a skeptic. Going to Catholic school really fucked you over big time back in the day. All that bullshit pumped into your head about rules, regulations and duty trumped any story about prophets, history and redemptions of one's soul. From the moment that priest told you that in seminary one must have understanding of mythology to the days in March the church waits for that new set of rules that its top priest hands down to the masses, you knew that religion was bullshit.

You played around with seminary classes

got baptized as Baptist
And then you were Muslim
Hebrew Israelite
Studied Nuwabian
Spent one day at Giza

Now that led that ass to Egyptology and from Minister Farrakhan, Dr Malachi Z. York, Bishop Eddie Long, Rev Jeremiah Wright, Dr Wayne Dwyer and others referring to history as well as scripture, you knew in your heart that there was more than what man wrote and whatever that was, it was more powerful than anything written.

Even the Book Of Thomas

and before that there was Osiris, Isis and Horace... Yeah, that holy trinity.

But it was a culmination of your life that affected all the things you do and what you believe in wasn't it? After all the failures and misfortune your punk ass experienced in the short time you graced the planet with your illustrious and fabulous presence you realize that triumph comes from within. The world needs someone, something else to believe in when shit fails. Fear of the unknown had you shook like a bunch of other folks. You tried to turn to what a lot of other folks turned to but you see something else.

You see the bullshit.

Now there may be a God or gods... There may be prophets and gospels but what you have experienced and learned tells you to look beyond what man has written and find faith in yourself and believe that you serve some purpose beyond what your mother told you you were to serve. You could pimp your own philosophy and webevangelize some serious and deep shit. You could invoke thought about selective programming and how it affects beliefs and make others ask about what was pumped into their heads as children and how it manifests itself in their adult now, but that would be too much work. Your shit is way too complicated to be telling anyone else about what to believe in.

Most of the damn time you have difficulty believing in yourself.

How in the hell do you think you have the time and effort to prove to yourself that anything other than your miserable existence exists among everyone else's shit? The whole universe moves around you and can without you. What do you have to contribute beyond what anyone else already has? Sometimes faith in something else, something to lean on is the distraction we need to get through the terrible shit, and organized religion and all that comes with it has been the terrible constant in your life and your family exists right smack dab in the middle of what you don't believe. That's why I got the weekends you fucker, I ask the relevant questions.

Enjoy your weekend, you faithless bastid.

Seeing right through you as usual,

Friday, May 18, 2007

RE: Konichiwa

Furious,

I'm not mad that in an effort to rid myself of creative stickiness that I've decided to pit the two most powerful aspects of myself against each other in what would probably be a simple decision for most normal folk. I am not normal by any stretch of the imagination, so the public display of noise going on in my head for the world to see continues...

I appreciate you. I know that I don't have to wait on you to take what I am sometimes afraid to grab so I call on you to be the aggressive cat that makes the world afraid. They know you exist. I acknowledge your strengths to continue to balance things, but I must debate the fact that I am making the wrong move. All I'm trying to do is make things right for us. I know you don't want to be in Houston, but you gotta admit, it's been 85 degrees here since late February. Remember getting off that plane back in March in the Chi? You were all good until you got out to hail that cab. The 'Hawk' damn near ran you back to Georgia, didn't it?

The warm gulf weather ran the pneumonia out of us. The quiet, tree lined streets and the breeze has lulled you to sleep since arriving. Traffic is shit, but things are calm and easy here. Not like the hectic hustle and bustle Chicago has 24/7. And remember, this is not Chicago. There is so much I know you probably miss but there was a reason we left. Remember why we left.

Don't forget.

Some things are too much for your heart to endure.

The number of folks and the situations that involve them in the city of Chicago that bring tears to your eyes is a small one, but it only takes is a few. In order to accept the fact that you lived in the midst of dysfunction you have to admit that you are dysfunctional and know that you are a product of its environment, then you must remove yourself from it and start anew outside of it. You have abused yourself in so many ways trying to cope with having to live with things that would have ran some into those deep recesses you mentioned in your letter yesterday. It's time to preform the actions that'll heal you and help you move forward. That means that you have to let certain people, places and things go, and I know that probably makes you lash out. All I can say about the abrasiveness is the same things I say when counseling folks about internal cleanse. You will feel toxic for a moment because is must pass thru and be absorbed before it is released by the body.

Life ain't gravy here. Texas is a difficult place for a black man, and not being native of culture and customs makes things that much more difficult. All I ask is for enough time to heal, stack a bit of paper and get my head and my pocketbook right. The writer's block will end. The performance anxiety will end as well. The book will get get published dude, I swear. We already have record dates and flight info to complete the project with MorninMan, it's just a matter of getting there one day at a time. I am not giving up my dream, I just need a moment to set things straight and get back to optimal performance physically and mentally. We will get back on the road and hustle CDs, hit impromptu joints and perform and fellowship like we did last summer, trust me. I miss being out there as well.

We'll get there. It's just taking a little longer than I expected it would. Not that I thought it could happen in a day or from a different location...

We must find out who we really are by accomplishing things we did not know we were capable of. Taking this job and being still for a moment in Houston is what must happen right now. But this is only right now. Imagine what could happen later. Today first.

A rose can't bloom before its time
It will never bloom if the sun don't shine
So live your life, No need to hide

What's inside, cause that ain't right

You'll see what's true

Who's meant for you

Loves you for you


Stop playing games


Now you might lose a friend or two

But if you do
, were they there for you?
You need to see

Open your eyes

and realize


That you're worth more

So, so much more

So, so much more

Eric Roberson



Brother, I got you.

Hassan
The Brown Blogger

Thursday, May 17, 2007

The Getback Letter To Hassan...

Dear Hassan,

You are a fool ass, double fucked, bitch-assed new fool if you think I play the background to anyone, especially you. It is me you call when you need some dirt done, it was just in this blogging instance that I got some shine doing what I do and you didn't like it cause' you weren't in control. I don't appreciate being thrown under the bus cause you wanna live your shit like smooth jazz. Life like a Boney James record is some boring shit, let's put a little Primo up in there with a touch of Old Dirt Dog.

Shame on a nuh that try to run game on a nuh... I'll fuck your ass up!


It's me that comes thru and regulates shit when you can't say no. Its my stanking ass that rides out and indicates when shit is all fucked up and you know what you lil' sensitive ass fuck? I'll do that now:

You know you don't want that corporate gig.
Your ass needs to be in the rig, cruising the highways and shit being your own boss. Your paranoid ass just jumped at this shit because it's taking a while for your physical to go thru. So what fucker, you failed the first one and need to do a re-take. Wait a minute, feel these excersizes I got for that chunky ass of yours and get back on the truck. You's a dumb ass if you go back in there and ride that desk for less money. Fuck that contract shit, lets ride the interstate homey!

You hate Houston.
This city just ain't treating you right, now is it? Hell fucking naw! If it wasn't for the 3 friggin people you know your ass would have been in Atlanta last year. I understand that you came here to make things right and get well, but it's time to hit the bricks and leave grill-city for that 4 bedroom, 2 and a half bath joint in ColliPark for $141k. You from the streets kid! You need some big city loving. Get that ass back to a spot where shit is poppin' off and you can rock the mic on the regular. Remember your book, spoken word and music? Remember DJ MorninMan and WareWolf? That neegra live in Spaghetti Junction, how in the fuck are you going to record from her wardie? Think, my nukah. Think.

You belong on the fucking road, dude.
Four figures a week? No rent? Banking that shit for at least a year? Africa? Weekend travel dates? A 100% VA home loan for the 2008 with all that loot saved up? Freedom of being your own boss? My nukah, this shit is as no brain as it can get up in here. Get that ass back on the truck, save for the Motherland and your new home and visit who you need to visit with loot to spare. banking $3k a month or more is the shit in my book.

See, I'm supposed to be aggressive. I'm supposed to be the voice of reason, ready to bitch slap your crank ass when you ain't making sense. Right now, that ass is wrong. How you gon' ban my ass when I speak for you and your best interests? You's a bitch, that's why. You acting like you have no spine. Mark my words, that ass is going to be miserable a month from now. Drudging thru Houston going to work for a bunch of fuckers that ain't paying you your worth, and we needs some shit! I know there are folks that want you here and I know that you owe people big time for looking out but there is a compromise. Giving up your dreams for a desk, limited web access and a phone is the biggest bitch move you can make.

And I'm going to stop that ass. Even if I have to take your blog.

I got this shit you weak minded ass bastid. Get that ass back in the the deep recesses and let me drive before you fuck things up fo sho. The take over continues, bitches!


Konichiwa with your bitch ass,





Wednesday, May 16, 2007

An Open Letter To Furious Styles

Fear Furious,

You made a mess of things.

It's good to be back up in here albeit early, but when I logged on and saw the tonka truck colors I had to step in and take the blog back. I promise to not let alter egos get in and get out all willy nilly. And to think, I was going to let you blog for the whole week while I negotiated my new employment situation. Wow is all I got right now. "Konichiwa bitches?" Not a good idea to hand it off to you, huh?.

In the time I was out working on a permanent template for BrownBloggers, meeting potential employers and enhancing my calm and thangs, I was considering selling out. A little. I've been weighing out whether I should become a corporate whore which would stifle my creativity and give me back that 'boxed in' feeling I had when I was a cubicle junkie back a year and some change ago.

But then I read my hijacked blog and wondered where things went internally to make you jerk out like that and I wondered...

Would I blow up like that on a co-worker?

I figure that since you are the aggressive personality I shelved some time ago while searching for my true purpose that going back into corporate America would bring you out and get me fired or even better, sent to jail for felonious assault.

I have to re-shelve you for the time being so I can take this job and make things right. For the moment.

Although I don't want to go back to corporate and be a desk hockey I have to have you realize that I am currently living in a financial deficit and I need the boost that this job will give me. If I am not totally ready to get back on the road due to health, then this offer from the mega-giant, Texas oil monopoly will have to suffice until my blood pressure and heart rate is normal enough to get back to over the road status.

In other words. I have to do the dance and I need my rational personality running thangs until I can properly regulate my health. You have made me manic and have my stress levels out of control and I cannot qualify to drive the big rigs if I am stressed to the point where we're making the BP machine explode. And further more, little sis was right. With you as dominant personality I am more of a stroke and heart attack victim now more than ever.

And your workouts put blisters on my feet from running in the pool without aqua socks.

So until further notice and unless you're needed you are officially back in the recesses of my mind and will not touch the layout settings or anything else related to my blog or my life. Let me work this corporate gig until I am healthy enough to get back on the road, okay?

I'd appreciate that.

And quit playing with my background colors like that. I like my black template. Hulkamania this is not.

Sincerely,

Hassan O. Ntimbanjayo
The Brown Blogger

Monday, May 14, 2007

To The White Meat

I'm am not hating on TV.

But I am hating on that new poli-sci talk show spin shit that has seemed to take over basic cable. You see, when I'm not working on my pimp hand, smacking digital farts and blips all over Southwest Houston hustling for that paper so I can buy a few shorties some dranks during happy hour at the trap in the middle of the week or practicing my krumping, I gets my chill on trying to find out who's tryna shut down the streets and cancel out my club banga joints via divestment by scoping out a little MSNBC and Fox News Channel. Friends close, enemies closer, right?

I mean, what's a thuggalectual to do?

So after watching some of that boolshit, noticing that my phone didn't ring from these cable newsjoint hustlas offering me a little pimping as a talking head, in the spirit of straight hateration because game supposedly recognizes game I decided to hand out some virtual bitch slaps of my own to a couple of cats that straight wasted my time. I probably missed out on some foreign tourists bankrolling a hotel party on a bootleg handbag hustle or something. You know how them ghetto bourgeois negroes love to keep the tag on fake shit just to show the next African that they were able to buy some shit.

My first ever DigiBitchSlap goes out to Bernard McGuirk, who finally decided to come out of his stank-ass cubby hole to accuse the Rev Al Sharpton for 'helping' him lose his job.

McGuirk called Sharpton a "crude ... opportunist, a race-baiter" who campaigned against Imus to help his own career and raise his profile. While McGuirk acknowledged that "these words did hurt these girls," he added, "until you, Reverend Al, got involved, they probably never would have heard of it. They would have probably never, quote unquote, got scarred for life until you got involved for your own self-serving interests."

You opportunist grill wanting, platinum blood diamond iced chain company investing, jewelery wearing wannabe, fried-chicken-and-biscuit recipe coveting, monkey, ape, baboon name calling for lack of better verbiage, wishing you had big thighs for fast-running and three hundred sixty degree basketball dunking tan getting ass bastard bitch of a man. You make it hard for regular folk to take caucasian cats in those type of power roles seriously. You have a rich culture, a decent education and make work and take pleasure in making others that aren't in your demographic look to be less than where you claim to be with all of your former bandwidth and radio airtime, influencing your fans with racist bullshit and repelling the ears of my people for the past few decades. You had the perfect platform and got that ass fired over 22 minutes of a over glorified nigger joke and have the mitigated gall to blame your understanding of what to say over compensated airwaves on Hip Hop culture and your unassumed responsibility on Al friggin' Sharpton.

I heard the shit y'all smeared the day Ed Bradley died. So did a lot of us. Some of us, Charles S. Dutton included have our ears to the streets. Your ass is being tracked. Your next job will be working to balance that bigoted ass on more eggshells than a hen house on a million acre farm.

Smart fucker you are. I'm glad you don't practice law, there'd be a lot of inmates yearning for you to commit a crime and get caught so you can drop the soap. You're lucky this shit didn't go down in the gulliest of the gully. I hope to see you in these streets one day so I can nose up to your punk ass and tell you that you can't match me cause my style is impetuous, my defense is impregnable and shit, I'm just ferocious, I want your heart, I wanna eat your children! Straight Tyson shit.

And then, I'll bitch slap your greasy crank ass to hell. In front of your kids. Who's the 'ho' now?

Unemployed fucker.





My second fingertip crack to the tip of the lip is to the Rev. Al Sharpton himself. I am appreciative to you for all that you have done for the struggle, but at times I wanna get all Alonzo on that ultra permed ass and call you a disloyal, fool-ass, bitch made neegra for giving into some race-baiting, made for television bullshit. You even argued the fact that there was money to be made in a forum like that when H&C urged you to shut the fuck up so they can go to commercial and begin the next segment as 'round 3'. Why in the fuck did you even show up to that shit? All money ain't good money your holiness.

Dammit Rev, what would James Brown do?

Probably prevent you from getting over to the Fox studios by busting your head to the white meat with the heel of his Stacy Adams sliders. I know I would. Take this open-hand bitch slap to the mouth like a man, reload and get that ass back on the front lines and get to some real shit like we need you to be on. Fuck this TV shit and use that law degree and your income potential to get some test scores up by putting competent teachers that give a damn and a few extra computers in classrooms. Plus, I know a couple of my nephews and nieces out there on straggler patrol that need book money for next semester. Purchase some stock in a few media companies like you said you would do and get back to that late sixties shit and influence a few cats to make a record where my sisters ain't gotta pop, lock and drop it to get brother's attention.

Luckily my pimp hand is mighty strong mon, my shits would be hurting with all of these repeated slaps and thangs. Making me mess up my manicure, but no ting. Me lick a shot for dem who fear the real speak with no remorse.

Nuff said

Saturday, May 12, 2007

KONICHIWA BITCHES!!!

Greetings readership...

If you haven't noticed thangs as different around here then I'll take the time to explain...

IT'S A TAKEOVER BITCHES!!!I'm snatching the blog from dude's old stanking ass cause all of this self reflecting bullshit ain't happening over here. If you need to read journals of this cat and his sucka-punk, crybaby, lost, trying to find oneself stories of self awareness and shit then take that ass over to that BrownBlogger joint.Go the fuck over there if you feel the need to be communal...

I got shit locked over here for the moment while Hassan is working over there. Now that I got the mic, we gon' talk about some gangster shit. And by the way, allow me to introduce myself...
My name is Furious







Reminds me of this one time in Seoul where some redneck cats decided to have a few drinks in the Trap right outside of Youngsan on Hip Hop night. What the fuck was they up in there for anyway? Conway Twitty can't rap! I hate the fact that that one quiet dude got busted upside the head while he was trying to break shit up, but I had a firm grip on a wooden chair and one chance to get myself a piece before the MPs came... Chopped his ass down like a lumberjack working a tall pine.

Innocent fucker.

I wonder if he remembers that shit anyway? Whatever... Where's my screwdriver?

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

I was going to post something this morning and then I remembered that I had to be at the pool. I went earlier and I'm going back now after a hot soak and rubdown. I'm very sore after switching my cardio and resistance workouts to the pool.

Challenging to say the least.

But I love the water and the sun, so scuse' me... I got some training to do. And then I'm off to hike a trail at Memorial Park. Remind me to bring the deep woods OFF! so I'll live beyond the malaria scare.


The rest of you should get outside too.

Monday, May 07, 2007

Looking At Relationships... Seriously

I am at a crossroads as to whether I can actually be in a healthy relationship at this point in my life. I have to be open and honest with how I feel about trying to share myself with someone even though I'm still trying to find out who I am and what my purpose on this plane of existence really is. I sit up all night thinking about who I am and where exactly I'm supposed to be and how is affects folks in the positive or negative and I can't figure that shit out for anything right now. My mind is so clouded right now and I can't seem to clear it out and focus on one thing. I really need to think about where I am with relationships right now because it's of utmost importance that I find where I'm supposed to be. I owe it to myself and others to know where I'm supposed to be.

Right now I'm in my weakest moment physically, emotionally and mentally, realizing that there are parts of me that will never recover from my most recent injuries, the damage that having diabetes has caused over the past ten years and of course all the stupid stuff I indulged in as a younger man, that stuff being eating, contact sports, blue collar work and of course alcohol, and not in that particular order. It indeed takes a toll. I accepted that I'll need to medicate, meditate and moderate in order to be some of the things my woman needs me to be. I realize that I'll also have to stand still and plant roots somewhere because most sisters need her man to be an anchor so things can get done. I also realize that my earning potential is under scrutiny and being 36... Shit, I better sell a few books and CDs because me jumping into a retirement plan ain't the answer.

Time for that side hustle.

I stopped running from my relationship problems a long time ago. I did try to hide my shit in an attempt to be function like normal folk so I can have what other people have. Not that I hid my emotions to that particular sister, in fact I think I've been a little too forthcoming with em'. I tried to be there for all of life's ups and downs while handling my own shit internally. Some of that major stuff I shared as to not come off as distant and non trustworthy.

That shit didn't work.

Either I pushed folks away or got smoked out in some aspect by folks that obviously didn't want anything to do with a dysfunctional cat such as myself. The painful part is how folks pull out on your ass when things starts getting hot. I got my head spun a couple of times and it changed the way I interact with folks seeming to be sincere with their actions and panning for my affection.

So much for folks accepting you for who you are. That shit about folks being accepting to gain one's favor and build on trust over time is soooo damn false.

"Fell in love with this fish who got caught in my mesh
But yo she burned my scene up like David Koresh
I guess a diamond ain't nothing but a rock with a name
I guess love ain't nuttin but emotion and game
It's a lesson well learned so praise is well due..."


Dave of De La Soul - Itzoweezee
"There was a lovely lady who's intent I thought I had on Rosa Parks
But her ex came to town and took back her heart
And she left me standing silly in the dark with a mic
Caught up in expressions
and learning lessons of depression
Sometimes it seems I can't connect with female beings
To my little Aya-Mo when she having them dreams
And her facial gleams are sweet, but soon to switch to bitter
cause when she reaches sixteen she'll be considered a piece of meat
Not a treat but a trick to sex in showers
People kick last days, we in the last hours
Minutes and seconds, I reckon it won't be long
til recorded ways of striving will be dead and gone
But this loss coming through despite who try to see me
These brothers are too hard, sisters are too easy
Sleazy..."


Posdnous of De La Soul - Stakes Is High (remix)


So these days I try to keep my shit guarded like them shiny coins stowed away at Fort Knox. I blame myself for kinda' knowing in advance that I'll get burned in the long run and I kick myself for putting myself right back into the same pot of boiling bullshit I just stepped out of. But for some strange reason I keep trying. I keep wanting to go there because I know that I can be accepted for who I am and not looked at as a commodity or better yet, a shield and storage facility for someone else's emotional garbage with them not wanting to sift thru it themselves while not letting me sift thru mine.

I hold out hope that I'll run into someone that'll put up with my ass and find a way to intertwine my levels of dysfunction with hers. The thing is, I kinda like living nomad style, so being in one place just doesn't do it for me. I have to travel and be in new places, do new stuff. Interact with new(er) folks. You know, out there fellowshipping. Not that I'm running from anything, I just like all of the moving around I do and to find someone that likes to move with you is damn near impossible.

So I noticed that a brother that likes to bounce around the planet, doesn't want children, looks at marriage as a major cause of dysfunction in today's society and likes to keep himself guarded isn't so sought after, but I still hold out hope. All I gotta do when I find her is see if I can really extend my trust in her direction. That's the hard part. It seems like every time I wanna give up the combination to the safe something is either said or done that makes me retreat and raises my eyebrow in suspicion and lowers my expectations in frustration.

But there are some signs out here that make me think.

I hear every single one of y'all. I am appreciative of your concern and words. I'm most appreciative that y'all stumbled thru my ramblings and such and read all of that stuff, that's major. We'll make it thru. We have no choice now do we? I hope to somehow shake a hand or give a hug to every one of y'all someday. I knew I wasn't alone... Knowing that makes me chuckle... Just a little.

Heh, I just chuckled.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

It Ain't Easy

Dealing with myself is not an easy thing.

For some that have read my blog before, it's just one big sigh reading this. For others that have just come over to visit and have just had their literal neck snapped, well... I'm damn near 40 years old and am still trying to deal with me. It ain't as easy as I expected it to be me supposedly being so talented and gifted, being given all of this opportunity to travel and see things when others have the hardest time making time to get over to the Wal-Mart because of family and work constraints.

I agree that I have it good in a sense being single and childless and not affecting anyone else with whatever it is I have. That my depression and anger hasn't impacted my spouse, child or co-worker to the point that either them or I aren't heavily medicated and under a doctor's care or as a part of some university research program experiencing those side effects we hear that monotone-voiced guy on the prescription commercials talking about.

This is my therapy and I'm trying not to medicate so I use this forum because it's free and folks really do listen. Or at least I think they do.

Sometimes.

I do want to clarify a few things some picked up on in my last post:

  • I am not drinking my problems away. I don't like being drunk, so I keep my distance from the sauce. I've had my share of beer in the past month so... Yes I drink, but no I don't get drunk. So there.
  • I am not eating either. I've dropped 7 pounds since last Tuesday.
  • I wish I had the answers as to why I feel like I can't grow close to certain folks. The fact that I was touched as a child doesn't affect me like back in the day. I still feel like I need longer periods of time to trust folks close to me. I'm working on lowering my defenses so I can let folks in. It takes time for me to get comfy with folks.
  • I haven't had a relationship where I felt like settling down since late 2005. I have been involved, but not on the level I was back then. There were things I did to raise suspicions in the eyes of that sister (and I think she got out because I was battling a bout of depression then), but I was still let down because she literally disappeared and no dialogue was had between her and I so no immediate closure was had and I assumed that things were over after a few days to a week of no contact. I'm trying to work to get to where I can trust a sister to the point where I can feel comfortable with 'we' which hasn't happened as of yet.
  • The writing thing (or lack thereof) has me reeling for a new release date for my project. Sucks monkey ass. Nuff' said.

I wish I could get past my deficiencies to the point where I can function like a normal human, but I am just as regular as the rest of you. I have issues and I am working towards being as normal as I feel I can be. My support system is somewhat functional, and I do have you guys so I feel like I can be at my best in due time. I am working through the diabetes thing the best I know how (with medical help and research) and I know that what I'm going thru is a part of me having what I have, so I adjust and try to keep it moving the best I can.

I will keep going, trust me, but there are times where I feel like there is no hope.

I know that there is, but hope has a point of overlooking me most times. Or at least I feel that way. That's when I cry out and try to get as much help as I can. I feel the need to move around and keep the blood flowing because I feel like if I stand still and wait for something good to happen I will surely die in that process. I've already proved to myself on Thanksgiving day 05' that I'm too much of a punk to check out voluntarily... So I live, and sometimes living is so fucked up for me.

Like now.

My financial problems stem from me begging for money via trying to write grant proposals for BrownBloggers. I suck at this and I'm doing it by myself, but I'm supposed to get help once school lets out. Then I'll have assistance from a few folks that have done this before. I am on the fence with my decision on being site administrator and running BrownBloggers and have found a few people that would love to have that job if I leave the fold, but I must help it develop it somehow cause' it's my baby.

I also called my guy at the trucking company and will be going back on the road with my rig in a few weeks. Maybe that's what I need. Me, myself and I rolling all over via the place seeing the countryside, snapping pictures and blogging from out there somewhere.

I can do that and feel free. I have done that and felt very much like my freedom papers meant something. Maybe out there I can ease my mind and brush some of the burdens of life off my back and let the past go. Time will tell, wont it?

The thought of being free always seems to enhance my calm.