Weekend Homework Assignment

Random ish for the weekend: (no hyperlinks - you gotta work for these today)

If the CSI and Law And Order franchises are America's most watched shows and the OJ trial was the most observed event in modern day history, why didn't 'we' wait for the investigation to take place regarding T.O. and his alleged suicide attempt seeing as we know the procedure?

As a person who has had a beloved released to my care after a suicide attempt, it would seem that a one hour wait and an hour of treatment wasn't sufficient for someone bringing harm to themselves to be released without follow up, huh?

Normally it takes a week or so to evaluate the mental state and be released by a shrink if it's determined that there was no intent to harm oneself. What happened in my case.

But I'm just saying though...


One year and one month since Katrina struck so I stayed up and watched "When The Levees Broke" back to back. I actually got a chance to drive thru N.O. when this program debuted. I read a few blogs about folks seeing the program.

Advice:
Unless you've donated (time, money, effort), volunteered (in any capacity), lived thru it or actually witnessed the destruction firsthand, be critical but to a point.

I pulled my truck over to take pictures (don't even ask... That's a sign of disrespect) and ended up hurting my finger (cut a flap down to the bone) because my 5'11"-235lb ass wept like Mary the day her son was taken from her after seeing what I saw.

If you need fodder, motivation or an emotional sparkplug to vote in the upcoming elections and you live closeby (or within driving distance for that matter, make it a weekend thang), go and visit that city.

You'll know why I stopped taking pix, dropped to my knees and recognized my father. I thought I saw the gates of hell. I needed to be saved because they weren't


Do you really want Op.rah telling you who to vote for? Okay then. Here's an additional weekend homework assignment:

Look up Barak.Obama and find out your damn self.

I already know. I'm from here. You make your own decisions. Then tell me why the 2008 election is that damn important.


Why are there so many good looking women on these dateboards?
Why are they single?
Why do I think the crazy gene skips fair looking to ugly folk?
Why do I think KZ has the answer to that question?


What you know about the Urban Trust Bank?
Whatcho' folio' look like?

(a lot of mid caps for me. Just switched over to the conservative B joints. - Confused, you shouldn't be. That's why I didn't hyperlink it)


Gasoline went down to damn near $2 a gallon here.
Its still high as giraffe puss in the hood though. (Closed mouth doesn't get fed).
What got fuel prices (and as a tractor-trailer lessee, I have great concerns) down to this level? (I know, just checking your ass)
What does it have to do with the renewals of a few defense contracts?
Current persons in office?
2008? (damn, I gave that one away)


Why am I not excited about the 2006/7 NBA season?
Kicks off next week in preseason form and there is no buzz.


I really miss her.


Everybody can't bring sexy back. Some of y'all just got that shit.

Therapy Thursdays

Hassan is off to therapy today (both physical and legal), so let's continue to chew on yesterday's post, shall we?

Change Of Heart

This time last year, I wasn't exactly alone. I was enjoying the fact that I was dating a few women and my ish was kind of trump tight. There were 3 beautiful, intelligent and spiritual sisters that made time for me as I made time for them. There was room for activity and time for seriousness in the conversations we had and the discussion of possibilities. But there was one sister that came in and broke all of that up. Her method of first contact was unusual.

She IMed me.

Now I must say that there was another sister that I vibed with on the regular and we were working the IM and phone thang but she was a few hundred miles away and she had her own funk going on out there. But I was damn attracted to her spirit. Still am. Eff the other stuff, I was impressed with how she did her thing. She astounded me on how the abnormal was handled and how she made sense out of the un-ordinary. I never met anyone like this. Just standing in the face of adversity, corporate America and family disfunction and keeping that bullshit at bay with her chair and whip like a lion tamer center ring at the circus is a grand thing to see. I wanted to marry her right then and there. We could have worked out everything else as time went on.

But the sister who IMed out of the blue took a chance. To my knowledge, she read my blog and peeped the few pix I had on my flickr joint at the time, so she had visual confirmation on things. She knew what my thoughts were an a lot of issues and believed we had something in common. She reached out to me and made the first move, and that was the first time something like that happened to me, so I responded. She did research, and that impressed me initially.

Months of IMing, phone calls and infoshare went on. We dated. I had forsaken the bowling nighs, movie dates and neglected hanging out at the poetry spots with my serial daters to vibe with this sister. I had nine years on her but when telling my homeskillet, mental doppleganger, ace boom coon and equally fabulous vodka drinking best friend of 17 years Buddha (who introduced me to a woman I spent over a decade with) she said what Nsane Lee Sane said:

Slide. (remember that in Fight Club?)
But don't forget who was there for you before.

So I slid, ended up meeting the family. Shared my emotional breakdown with the sister on Thanksgiving day and was even an eyewitness to her crossing an educational threshold that only a few of us actually see or are capable of ourselves. But things weren't well. I felt her confidence and faith slide in me, but she didn't initially tell a brother that I had fallen out of favor. I was going thru the transition of being independent of family due to conflict and general growth and I had shed a ton of hangers on as friends in the past few years to the point that I functioned mostly alone, and that wasn't cool with her. Some of y'all was reading my blog back then and I was miserable in trying to find where I needed to be and that affected her somewhat.

But one person stuck with me during all the turmoil. I shed my casual dating situations with those other sisters and were no longer in contact with em. Easy come, easy go - BUT, I poured my emotions into IM and phone conversations with the one sister I should not have ignored. She guided me thru breaking free of all of the bullshit that came with this new sister's attempts to cut me loose when she found out that I was not what she expected. She knew that my attempt at a relationship with this new sister was a decision of convenience because she was closer geographically and my choice was also made clearer when I found that the situation she was having over there was a little more cloudy that I originally thought.

Follow me?
Good.

So I started 2006 jaded and with no one to come see me do my thing at the poetry spots. I was kind of ended up seeing someone that got thrusted upon me and we ended up sharing space quicker than I thought because her ex...
Never mind. Longer story there.

Homegirl was still there. But I still couldn't get at her. Still can't, so I decided to get on the road and do my thing in the trucking industry to get my mind off of the obvious. It's working, somewhat. Becoming an independent contractor in trucking is a very lucrative thing. I thought that maybe I could get away from the norm and detatch from corporate America by getting on the road and working for self. And plus, I managed to do a few open mic nights and book a show or two for myself while I was out there. Things went well, I leased a truck and sold a handful of CDs and then I realized...

I'm doing this all of this alone.
I'm almost 40 and have no kids.
This trucking thing is very solitary.
The average cat with a truck has a home to go to.
And a family.
That's something that I don't have.

I figured with me being in Chicago for a minute that I should consider buying a home, but maybe not here. With the new opportunities emerging as well as me getting back on the road after I finish the album and book of poetry I'm working on, I know that I must share all of this chocolatey goodness with someone.

SEXUAL CHOCOLATE!!! SEXUAL CHOCOLATE!!! (drops mic, exits stage left)


The climb ain't nothin without a partner... And a rope.


So it's time for me to admit something:
I am ready to be in a committed, monogamous relationship.
I want to have children.
I want that sister to be there as I build my new career.
That's important.
I want to put my queen on a pedestal and build for her and my future family.

It's time to settle down, y'all.

I did the unthinkable yesterday. I joined an online dating service. I'm not kidding. I uploaded a few pix, hooked my bio and even took a personality profile to help filter thru so-called 'bad match-ups'. I plan on actually fielding a few responses and going out on a few dates using this service. I even plan on blogging about a few experiences and hitting y'all up about some of the things going on with that whole jumpoff. I even got a few hits already...

I'm humbled and impressed.

I'm not thinking that this is the end all - be all as far as putting myself in a situation that might get me hitched. I just know that I've closed myself from the concept of marriage and having a family since about 2000 when I broke off the longest relationship I've been in. I didn't think that I could trust anyone and I did get in a relationship with a woman I thought would want to have my children, until she cheated on me and got pregnant with another man's child, then aborted it.

I was pretty much done right there.

The sister that came thru and IMed her way into my heart, even though we didn't make it 6 months showed me something. She was definitely worthy to be loved unconditionally. Straight up marriage material. The sister I befriended and that stuck with me thru all the bullshit deserves that much more and then some. We used to trade battle scars and flaws in conversation and even though there has been some devastating things that has happened to the both of us, we both came to a realization that thru bullshit and battles, scars and emotional issues that there is still a vast abundance of worth in a person.

For a moment, I thought I was too flawed to be loved.
Too old to be 'broken in' if you will.
Not worthy of being loved unconditionally.

I see now that in order for me to make this thing called life that much better I need to share my life experiences. I also need someone take over my junk empire here at the Sanford Arms.

I've been hanging out with my 2 and a half year old nephew for the past couple of days and I realized something about me as a possible candidate for the title of father...
But that's another post.I gotta concentrate on me being out on the market.

Dating and such...
I'm so scared.

Monday - Back on the Block

So Monday begins like this:

In meditation and prayer. I haven't seen the stars from this position in quite some time. I know that I have been returned here for a reason. I think I know what that reason is. I was shocked to learn that some folks haven't gotten over themselves and just accepted that I'll be in some places that they might be (not meaning Chicago either) and just let me be. I haven't bothered you since the last days of the solstice, so what makes you think I will now?

Oops, I know that that probably just bothered you.

You know, the fact that I acknowledged...

never mind...

I still pray and meditate... And wish you heaven. Why not, you deserve it, don't you?



This city has it's own flavor.

I got so much on my plate right now that it just ain't funny. I got doctors and lawyers to see and therapists to make schedules with. It's crazy right now that I haven't had the chance to get out and reaquaint myself with this big ass city. I didn't miss it that much so getting out just to see stuff wasn't a priority.

I plan on getting out and checking in with Griot Baba Biko who teaches me a lot about the spirit and presses me on my lineage and what I need to do to stay relevant to my people. I also got to get over to the Spoken Word and Negro League Cafes next weekend. I also need to check out Roscoe's to see if it has the same flavor that Cali has.

Why in the hell is Chicago now housing a Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles anyway? We're already fat all up and thru here. Like we needed that. (I'm glad they're here.)


Boo Hoos:
I missed Tribe last week.
I missed Rakim and Kid Capri (in Chicago, that is) too.
I haven't been inside a movie theater since January.
No other major acts are booked for the Chi until December... Should I stay?
Still haven't had a drink yet.
Or any nookie for that matter either.


I also need to find out if my girls SpkHER won that Hieneken sponsored contest. I wanted to go out and check the sisters and the other contestants out, but I spent the whole weekend writing, plotting and strategizing on how I gotta do the do in the upcoming weeks that I'm here. I gotta find balance and make sure I can be in the right places doing all things conducive so I apologize for not making it out. I know y'all did it anyway. I'm just ready to get in the studio my damn self. My focus is on lyrical content right now. I just need to get over to the old neighborhood, soak up some flavor and chill in my element for a quick minute. Feels nice to know I get a chance to sit and just be for a moment even if it is back here in the Chi.


I noticed while over my sister's that my mother called and didn't even ask about me. Nuff respect and love for all that she has done to get me to this point as a man, but I just can't understand why we can't get along.

I'm the only child that looks like this woman and we just don't have rapport. We never had it so it ain't no surprise to me that we don't favor each other to communicate. I love her, I really do, but I guess I'll stay over here and she can stay over there for now. It's a peaceful situation that way.

Sad, but true.


Okay, so I was in the LA area a few times over the summer. I have a friend that lives in Pasadena and I didn't call or arrange a visit when I was in the area. We've known each other for 3 years and I just didn't feel like I was welcome enough to call and set something up like lunch or something. I'm IMing folks this evening and she appears out the blue, chastising me that I haven't called or visited. Thing is, we haven't spoken in over 4 months. She could have called me, right? I figure if the time wasn't taken to get at me, then why should I bother with trying to hook up when I was out there.

Whateva, man.


Al called me and told me that he got his DNA test results back that told him of his African roots and I am so amazed. For a brother that has Africa in his 2007 plan, you'd have thought that I would have gotten tested too so I'd know where to go. The brother's mother's side of the fam comes from the Hausa people in Nigeria. His pops side is from all over Europe. That ish is crazy right there. I think before we can start claiming thangs in the name of Mother Africa that we all should be tested. You ever wonder where you're from? Well, Imma' find out and soon.


Random ish:
Why do I keep breaking my cell phone?
Why did TSA go all thru my shit (and dispose of my pillow?) at the airport and try to patch up my bag half assed?
Why is Condoleeza Rice getting all homey and endearing herself to us now?
She sick or something?
Why do I have a crush on a certain Ill NaNa right now?
And why am I mad that I didn't get a chance to drive thru where she at?
Ain't nobody blaming Whitney for 16 years of straight acting the fuck up?
It's all on Bobby, huh?
How many people will die while during Ramadan as we try to validate our occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq?
Why was Minister Farrakhan ridiculed last week and this weekend after handing over the reigns of the NOI to the executive board?
The cellphone recharge station at the Salt Lake airport was charging folks $1 a minute to get juice.
Why didn't I think of that?
After seeing the ND-MSU game Saturday night and seeing State get that ass handed to them in royal fashion, I need to ask: Y'all aiight over there? Is everything okay? Y'all still got the Tigers, so chill cause Chauncey can't do it all by himself this year.


You know I'm going to write about the experiences I went thru this summer driving that big-ass truck, the training in Salt Lake City and all. I owe it to y'all to let y'all know that there is a whole other way of life and some serious difference in standards that truckers live by.
Shot from the driver's seat, somewhere in Nevada I think - This one is New Mexico, hell I can't remember, I just drove the damn truck.

A whole lot of blood money, abnormal sexual situations and bad, greasy food in every town. This job ain't easy and it can get lonely very quick if you ride alone, and most do. Find out what truckers do with their money and time, seeing that the fed only lets us drive 11 hours per day. Gimme a week to put that together and I'm sure I'll snap a few necks when I tell you what I've learned and had to go thru.



I think I want to get married now. Any takers?

Home?

I made it y'all.

Now to get the fuck outta here... That's the real mission.



but first... I gotta dig in and get twisted... Check this out:


I am so happy...

This is a happy, nappy day

Rejoicing to the Creator so I start it this way
Yo I sway to the with the trees
Open eyes to the breeze
That blows thru my window pane, it awakens me.

Another glorious day all up under the sun
Meditate manifestations on how it's done before my day is done
These are the thoughts that greet me

And I'm no longer sleepy

Gotta get out without a doubt and fellowship
With my fam - we connect - keep it relavant.

But first...

I gotta adorn my knots

Retwist my locks

Dig in my crops


Adjust my antennae, download the frequencies
Constantly adjusting - connecting recieving energies so I be

Protected, connected to the vibrations that greets me on the block

That's why I'm digging in my crops.

Blackfist - "Diggin' In My Crops"
from the upcoming Underground Moovment release "In A Hurry To Go Nowhere"



That's my weekend, y'all...

Be easy.

Is It Friday Yet? (200 posts and counting)

So I'm laying on the slab, recouping from the punishment from the sports massage on my shoulder and surrounding areas...

Colored inks courtesy of Lavender...

Fresh linens courtesy of me not being lazy, and Snuggle brand fabric softener (pay me, bitches!!!) ...

"The Infamous Book" aka "101 Shades Of Indigo" aka "My Verses" at my side, cracked open to another empty page, ready for another session...

2nd Corona halfway done... Chilled perfectly at 34 degrees thanks to my electric bottle cooler...

Egyptian Musk incense... blazin!

The mood is almost set, I'm still in a lot of pain and can't lay the way I need my body to be. Did that make sense? I'm thinking about the mood Chicago gets itself in during the fall season. The sisters swinging locs sporting knitted headwraps and faux fur with real leather, brothers rocking something paramilitary up top with dockers and a polo, tims rounding out the fit' perfectly...

Coffeehouses and poetry spots are ablaze on the weekends... A few spots are worth gathering and waiting for a table. Pre holiday buzz... Something from D'Angelo is rocking over the house system. Maybe its SpqHer (Chi-Illa always gets love). it's about that time. I finna' write something, but I just don't know what it is or from which vibe...

"I'm scribblin my verses so I can get in them purses... try to rock with no curses with limited rehearses"... I grab the burgundy ink joint and start scribing':


What gives me the pleasure in motivating myself to rise, mornings laced with doubt and displeasure, predisposed pain and hardship waiting at my front door...

I roll over and am still next to you.

It's not the fact that I rose before you, giving me the unfair advantage of getting to happy first by watching you in a peaceful slumber.

It ain't even the fact that I can watch you prep for your day, getting free peeks of that wiggle and jiggle, knowing I can just reach out and touch whenever...

Makes me wanna slap some ass... Really.

I wanna slap some ass.
Damn, I need to get some and stat.

Rule # 1: Unless you're R.Kelly, NEVER write horny. Unless...Nah.

Too sappy right now. I feel a little beat up and I feel the need to be held. Sistergirl rubbed the hell out of me and woke up all of the torn tissues that didn't even know they were torn, so that won't do right now, I'll finish that one later.

I feel the need to big up those that have supported me out here doing my thing. Hmmm, let's see:


In my current void on empty
One inkling of thought that is you
rights my capsized ship

You will not let me sink.

In my current state of self doubt
A mention of your name keeps me
From performing dire actions

You will not let me die.

When thoughts of mayhem controls
My thought process
To know you are right there
Makes that process normal
Or something like it

You won't let me act out.

I reach for the hope that is you
But I cannot touch anything
My fingertips feel no sensation
And then I reminisce on your scent
But I'm so far from the nape of your neck
It almost makes me forget.

The only thing in my grasp are beads of sweat
and inches of my own clammy folds of flesh
But the sensation of that last touch lingers

You will not met me miss you.

In the confusion that is me yearning to
Make right now become yesterday
I commit my actions with the most urgent intent
To share the sun with you to create one shadow

You make me want to breathe your air.

Sooner than later we'll walk in the same spaces
Creating more moments where time is lost and
more
moody
moments
that'll amass my mental rolodex

You keep me sane.

The hope of breaking bread and sharing
The comforter, stealing sheets
Keeps my mental stimulated when I must detatch
And be in your world when I'm away from you.

The fact that your moon rotates around my planet
Keeps my satellite in proper orbit in this universe
You become my gravitational pull

You affect my alignment.

In moments when my knees are week
The strength that holds me
Are the thoughts I reflect on
To move forward and carry on is to
Think of you.

You are my reason.

In the midst of chaos and disorder
You become my calmest moment
Fleeting moments of peace happen each time
I close my eyes.

That's when I see you.

2006 Hassan Olumoroti Ntimbanjayo


Okay, that's what's up!!! I feel like that's the old me trying to break thru. That was straight freestyle and I hope it makes sense. Then again, that was what was on my heart and it came out somewhat fluidly.

Maybe I should edit it.
Nah, maybe I should blog it and let the fam figure it out...

and then edit it.

Yeah, that's what I'll do.

Not bad for my 200th post here on Blogger. Thanks fam for coming thru and reading my repetitive, boring, stanking ass. I really appreciate it. One more day in Salt Lake City and then its a Ben Wallace jersey and one more White Sox home game.

and now ~credits~

Rose, I hear you.
Mora, I love you.
Aisa, I ain't thinking bout that.
Troy, I AM thinking bout that.
Al, thanks for that.
Heather, it took you long enough.
Lonnie, thanks for returning my call... from September 3.
Riley, hang in there... And get off that damn truck.
Lavender... You actually called me. Wow. Domino, nigga. (slam!)
Aqua, I still can't believe you did that...
Neena. Um, I don't do it on purpose, it just comes out that way.
Stilt, "boop boop beep - The number you have reached"...

Talking To Myself

Conversation

I crave conversation with you.

All I want to do is talk to you. You make me want to create new verbs, pronouns and adjectives just to prolong the chat.
I never wanted to share time with someone and explore them from the outside in, this is what I want with you.
I want to know about the trivial and the external and all that you sopped up over the years until it gets deeper.
Every time we speak, I plan on digging deeper having conversation and learning all the new that is you until we are too old to speak, too senile to argue but just young enough to reminisce.

All I need is a word.

From the time I first heard your voice I knew that is was the soundtrack for all things good and right for me.
My bass matched your treble, baritone flowed with your soprano.
I knew that whatever we blurbed about had meaning in the way it was projected.
We're direct, meaningful and full of purpose.
We've never had meaningless chatter because we can't make that so.
Each work that leaves your lips and embraces my ears has a deep rooted definition that only I can understand.

I just want to talk. Briefly.

The days that I go without hearing and speaking with you devalues homonyms.
My narrative descriptive has no shape or form
My words float into space and become as worthless an the distance and time it takes to travel into nothingness.
My syntax is insignificant.
I do prepare chanced to speak to you, pacing my room, mincing over words and figuring out the right combination of breath control and phrase so I can flo it to you freely.
It is only in this moment that I can tell you that I miss not speaking and how I withdraw from the now when we are silent with each other.
I wilt without my words.

Just say something.

Communicate with this brother, let me know what irks you and how.
Let me know if you crave sugar of need spice to make that dish just right.
Indicate to me if that program we watched last night was straight up booty.
Inform me that tracks 3 and 11 are the only cuts hitting on my CD.
Tell me about the time you broke mamma's dishes while dancing in the kitchen to that song you can't remember.
Help me relate to your childhood by telling me kid adventures.
I'm all ears, just blab until I fall asleep, I promise I won't forget and we'll finish that convo another day on another pillowcase.

What did you say?

Make me say it again while allowing to focus on your lips as you enunciate and thrust verbiage in my direction.

Let me rephrase that...

Make me forget my statements while observing your lips as you force them into curvature and illicit shapes while vocalizing satisfaction and satiations of your day. Make your words become incantation and put me in trance.

Simple conversation does this... To me.

I'd like you to do that, so let's talk.

I wrote that back in April for someone. I never knew that I would not be able to recite it to them in September.

Such as life, I guess.

I've been traveling in the past couple of days, getting over to Colorado and Nevada in the past couple of days, just doing shit. I'm bored as hell and I decided that the mountains would probably take the edge off.

I am not looking forward to going to Chicago, I do understand the seriousness of the business at hand. I have an album to finish in mere weeks and I don't want to rush thru it or come up with some wack stuff for the sake of finishing . If Al and I do the right thing and follow the template we constructed then this project (I'm looking at this as our one last chance to contribute our feelings and passion about hip hop to our peers) should not only be a good one, but it should sell as well.

After listening to the stuff we've recorded already and going over a few tracks Al has prepped I called bruh up and told him that we needed balance. That means that we need to find a female voice to compliment both the tracks and my voice. There has always been one voice in our works and that one has been mine. I feel like if we open the tracks up and add vocal ying to my yang that it'll have more appeal and put that missing element in our compositions. Al is with it and has already suggested someone that I have to meet next weekend I hope. If not, we will be auditioning female co-leads for the group. This is big. Our sound has changed so much over the years and I think that the element of estrogen (and a somewhat disinterested third party to add objectivity to my writing and Al's production) is what we probably needed in the first place, so I'm excited about that.

Can you believe that I haven't heard from my family since I told folks that I was coming back to Chicago? Well, I did hear from my mother Friday and the only question she had for me was:

"So did you get a ticket going back? You did get round trip tickets, right?"

I shit you not, this was the only question ma dukes had for me when she called that afternoon. After about 30 seconds of silence and an inbound call that straight saved my ass from snapping the eff off (I totally forgot about respect in that moment, thanks Al for calling me back) I mentioned that I had an important call coming in and I had to go. She was already hanging up in that moment. So I made a few calls this weekend while watching snow fall in the mountains in September and I have to either do the nigga-circuit and crash at various cat's cribs and put up with baby momma drama and such or a possible turn to an ex or two just to lay my head. This'll probably last a few weeks, I do have a few job interviews lined up and I expect to be either temping or doing the cubicle shuffle before the end of the month. I just don't know how I'm going to get out of the airport with my shit. No prob, I got Lortabs and Oxycotton... I'll get a little numb before the plane lands.

I ain't worried about Chicago, shit like fam not returning my calls and moms tripping that I might invade her zip code was the same shit I complained about in blogs past, so at least it feels like home. That'll probably motivate me to compose my opus, choose the right vocalist for the group, vibe like hell with her and write tighter shit and develop a killer stage show that'll get us an optimum deal and possibly get some records sold. Like they say, the best revenge is living well. And plus, I'll break protocol and eat a chicken wing or two in celebration of getting back to the Windy City.

And Bulls training camp opens...
And the Sox might make the playoffs.
If not, there's always that nice drive to the D to see the Tigers make a World Series Run.
And I'll finally complete this damn album.

Finally.

Princess Dominique, Yazmar, Zed, Rell, Nsane in the Membrane, Buck, GP, Namiliar, Chele, Missy, Verse One, Zesty Zest and Aqua (how brave of you - I just can't do it)... I'm reading.

The Love I Lost...

I was going to write a freestyle piece about loves lost and how I am happy that they are happy, but I decided not to. It's nice to see people fall in love and get the goods. Even exes.That ish gets me all misty.

Hey Island Girl, I still love you and I was really going to do the do, but some other cat beat me to it and stole you from me. I'm keeping an eye out to make sure you stay happy. If dude even comes close to effing up...

It's on.

I'm happy that you're happy and I wish you well. You are truly blessed to find him. With your sexy ass.


moving on...

I'm still in Salt Lake City (well, West Valley City to be exact) until next Friday. I'm headed to Chicago, but it's all business. I think from my last post a few got it twisted about me and my rig.

I love my rig
(yep, yep - I love you daddy)
I love my rig
(yep, yep - I love you daddy)

I got injured pushing my 38,000 pound, big boned, redbone assed sexy love machine but that doesn't mean I want to leave her. The fact that I didn't even have to pimp that ass to get 15 stacks a week is reason enough I don't want to leave. The fact that she lets me take pictures of other phillies out on the road as I travel all up and thru the US and Canada without answering to anyone is another. I can't leave her all willy-nilly but my ex is back in the picture...

Hip Hop is calling my stank ass again and I can't ignore the number on my caller ID. She keeps ringing my celly and sending me sexy-ass emails telling me that she knows that she can seduce my trifling arse anytime she wants. She reminds me of them days from wayback when we used to rock together and had all these other folks sweating whenever we spoke to em.

We made em' watch us make love on a pedestal.

It was no problem for her to do her slow wind and make other cats all hard and ish dance to her rhythm. All I did was speak over her drum.

I remember us all locked up in those tiny rooms, just us and Mic. All up in my ear, incense lit and Al twisting her knobs to tweak that ass, causing my voice to ride over her like like lotion to ashy skin.

She sends me picture mail of a larger dude with an afro cuffing Mic and singing odes to my people, her dancing in the background and Al doing the wiggy wiggy on the manhole covers.

I miss that bitch.

She stood me up so many times.

She promised me things that she just couldn't deliver.

I made a mistake in 2000 and left her, vowing not to eff with her stankin ass... But I kept seeing her with other cats. I wasn't jealous but I couldn't watch her get done up like that.

That was MY ish...

I hollered at Al, there is a huge opportunity to reclaim our spot in the name of her, so we're getting back together. There's even word of a commitment ceremony coming soon. I ain't told the rig yet... Better yet (I named her 'K' after another lost love), might as well:


Dear K,

You put it down like a true ride or die bitch. You took me places I've never been. We rode out and mushed little Civics and Accords in traffic, and that felt good. Baby, you got horsepower! I ain't never been with someone so strong, but so gentle. You protected me from the elements and also got me off faster than any of the other ones, even Jetta. Aiight, I won't bring her up again. She doesn't even hold a candle to you.

I need you to understand that HH is my real true love. Remember the convo we had when I said that you might meet her? You did and still held it down like I knew you would. Didn't even trip. Even though we had those little breakdowns in Nashville and Portland, we still made it thru a lot and for that I appreciate you. You helped me get back to HH and now I must go back to the Chi because she's waiting for me to return. I know that you can't get there with me but know that I enjoyed every minute of us riding out together. You gave me a sense of purpose, seasoned me in the art of moving about and made me a better rider. I got stamina and drive, and can keep it going much longer now more than I ever though I would by effing with you. I never knew that I could go all night like that. You taught me that baby. You broke me in K, and for that I'll never forget you.

HH promised me something that I could never have from you: babies! Her groove and my words have already spawned countless bouts of aural pleasure. Now's the time to end our practice rounds and start planning to spawn a family. It was enevitable that this was going to happen , but we did agree on a no strings attatched relationship, so I know you won't take this hard. I already know that you're probably ready to break another amateur rider in and make him a pro like you did me. He's ready, and so are you.

So in moving on I would like to say thank you. You gave me the ability to learn new things and get to new places, helped me make my mind up about HH and you also afforded me the ability to purchase an engagement ring I'll never use. Know that my relationship with HH is overseen by Al and know that we're even adding a girl to the mix, so the love is being shared and there will be balance.

I wish you well in all your future riding, and who knows, after we work on making a few babies there's a chance that we could get back and ride again.

I'd like that.

Peace and Blessings, you're my 'rigga, but you already knew that.

Hassan


Yep, that's right.




Blackfist is back.

You Know Something Happened, Right?

That's right, I had an incident.

On the 28th of last month in Jersey City, NJ (in which I discovered the Ringside Grill, Mike Tyson, his trainer Mario who owns the joint and the adjoining gym, Luis Collazo's people and lil' ugly ass Beetlejuice who really shouldn't drink alcohol) as I was backing the truck into a parking space, I cut the steering wheel hard to the left and held on to get a good cutting angle to get the trailer into the space properly (hey, I'm fresh outta training). I also held onto the wheel as the 515 HP engine cut the wheel back to its normal position which yanked my arm to the right, effectively ripping my biceps tendon and probably tearing my rotator cuff.


I'm hurt.


I've been back in Salt Lake city since the 30th going thru rehab and medical tests. The company thought I was faking the injury, so I got flown in. After preliminary tests in Seacaucus, NJ and various poking and prodding it seems that my pain and weakness has been validated. I've been on a Lortab/Naproxen/Ibuprofen/Tagamet cocktail since last week which is the reason I haven't blogged. I've only spoken with a chosen few and totally lost contact with a few more. Really tells me what's really good with folk I still consider good people but let's me know who I should and should not eff with.


I ain't complaining.

I get an MRI tomorrow morning (September 11, right... I know) and that should tell me how much damage has been really done. I'm not depressed but I'm really bummed out that I've been grounded and am back all up and thru Mormon central.


Whatever, man.

After we develop a treatment plan for the shoulder (the left one) I am on the first thing smoking to Chicago. It's not a good thing to be stranded, isolated and injured in an unfamiliar place with little to no support.

random ish:

Yes, I have an injury attorney... We're working so chill.

Yes, I'm thinking of getting out of the trucking ish, especially if I have major damage

Big, big shouts to my sister Heather for keeping me sane and getting me some cash when I needed it

Big, major shots to Aisa as well for keeping me grounded and focused

Lick a shot for DeAnne as well for spiritual convo. And we gotta finish that convo about Ray Bradbury and Fahrenheit 451... I loved that book.

Al, I'm coming home so we can finish what we started... I'm pumped about that.

I have job offers in Chicago and Atlanta pending... Someone is keeping me from making the ATL my new condo spot...

I met some cool ass people here in Salt Lake... Wassup Jodi, keep working on Randy's ass. Y'all belong together.

I'm left handed and I injured my left shoulder... Typing is a mutha... I wonder if I were a chronic master of my own domain how I would feel at this moment. I guess I'll have to use my other hand.

Al and I had a very lengthy convo and it is imperative that I get back to the Chi and finish recording the album. This (other than the shoulder thing, shoulder thing, shoulder thing (get it right, 2 step and and let the shoulder thing... Never mind) is the reason I'm getting back to the Chi. There might be a nice reward for finishing the album sooner than later.

Like someone else working hard to press and distribute the CD.

Overstood?

I think I might blog more often now that I'm out of my 'hooked on vicodin' phase.

Chilling In Cali

Vanglorious...

This is indeed protected by the red, the black and the green...

With a key...

I am currently on mini hiatus, somewhere tucked away in Long Beach being taken care of by a special friend and being accommodated by their family. I got a chance to spend time, get to know and break bread with the fam over the last 3 days and I'm thankful for this opportunity, I needed a break. I guess I need to tell y'all how I got here by letting you know:

How I Spent My Summer Vacation
By Hassan Ntimbanjayo


I was tired of corporate America but y'all know that.
I've been working on my music and poetry thing, y'all knew that too.
Chicago started to bore me, so I got rid of all of my possessions and just left.
Told y'all that.

I decided to go to trucking school and learn how to drive the big rigs. I kind of told y'all that as well but I didn't get all in depth with it. I chose a school in Salt Lake City because I visited before and was familiar with the lay of the land. For 3 weeks in July I submerged myself in learning how to drive a big ass death machine. I never wanted to do this for a living until I had a breakthrough moment:

I can get paid (a lot of money) to travel.
I can create my own schedule (if I own or lease a truck instead of being a company driver)
I can book shows as I travel (seems to be working well for now)
I can also do ghetto distribution for my CD (consignment is working as well with certain retailers, everyone seems to be more open to purchasing for inventory when I deal with them face to face than over the phone, not shocking)
I would be no longer rocking a too small office with a bad view of the parking lot or a cubicle.

So since August began, I've been an apprentince driver as a part of a driving team. We've been able to rock from Cali to either Florida or New York in 2 days flat because the truck has always been moving. Since the beginning of the month, I've been able to get to Atlanta, Miami, Nashville, Las Vegas, Portland, Indianapolis, I think you get it... I've been a few places via I-40/70/80. For the most part it has been fun when it started, and then I realized that the cat's truck I was team driving for was HIS TRUCK, and all of these selfish ass rules started to fall out of the sky restricting me from doing my thang, I got off of HIS truck.

Right here in beautiful southern California.
I'm glad I did.

My training is somewhat over, I do have to get either to Dallas or Salt Lake in order to get the truck I ordered and get out on my own, so I have some administrative stuff to do to get there in a couple of weeks. I am blessed to have someone that's looking out for me here in Cali...

The CD is almost done...

I'll be posting regularly once I get my truck, I got a few things to do first. I'm safe, about 15 pounds lighter and 3 shades darker.

and chilling in Cali.

I hit the road again this weekend. Keep praying for me.

Oh Snap... A new post!!!

Peace and blessings folks...

Long time, no write.

I know it's been a minute since I've physically posted, I've been a little busy driving as an apprentice and have been frpn the west coast to the east twice now. Yes, I have some good trucker shit to share but give me time. I have not been back to the Chi to get my things because my so-called trainer gets paid double what he normally makes and will not let me get some home time.

Bastard.

It's cool though, I only have one more week riding and driving with his stank ass and have 3 more weeks riding partner with another trainer. here is so much money in this business that I am coveted by trainers and companies alike. At least that feels good.

I'm currently at a truck shop in Nashville getting dude's cheap ass truck repaired, It's the 2nd time it's broken down since I've been in the mix. Dude did everything for me not to stop in Atlanta to get the truck fixed, Haven't hd the chance to even pay my cell phone bill... couldn't call my peeps in the ATL for sanctuary.

Shit.

It's all good though... One more week of driving with dude, then I's really be free.

Pray for my stank ass... More to come soon, and pics too.


Thank the creator for cybercafes...

Peace y'all...

Hassan

This is not farewell...

Peace and blessings family,

Reading these words means that massa has found work for me and I have to get to it. The weekend will be spent constructively traveling and settling into new digs at the training facility. I will be here for the next few months so I expect my new duties and responsibilities to take time from me and change my current internet and posting habits.

This is not goodbye.

I will be offline for a few days but know that I have the power and equipment (and corporate too) to get here and keep in contact with all of y'all. I just know for the upcoming week or so it'll be harder for me to post due to time and resource restraints.

Plus I got my itenary.

So before I jet up outta here I have a few things:


Nobody likes a smart ass... Fuck that, keep on blogging, that's what it's made for.

I know it's hot out but you could have come to work with a larger shirt/blouse...

That new Dave Chappelle joint was funny...

Do not be ashamed to say you spent ten bux to see "little Man" this weekend. Don't trip cause' I got an advanced ticket. And I got a thing for Kerry Washington. And so what that the Wayans family is straight ig-nant.

That anonymous comment pissed me off from yesterday's post. I forgot that I changed templates and permissions and got hit with a long, chastising one. Normally whomever that was (from South Africa, no doubt. I got Sitemeter bitches!) wouldn't had the chance to get one in there. I hear you, thank you for stopping by and respect your opinion but next time:

I'm a grown ass man. This is my blog. And I like cussing dammit. Learned it as a child, perfected it in the military, gets off when it affects other folk because I personally know the power of the word FUCK. Makes some people cringe. I like that. Sometimes. Next time get your weight up and at least use someone else's name. Real talk for a minute: How you gon' chastise a grown ass on his blog nonetheless on what words he chooses? I write just like I speak, and if you ain't feeling my cusswords then fuck... I won't apologize cause it's who I am. Furthermore and no disrespect, you can always create your own blog and Doowhatchyoolike (can you see Humpty?) cause your response was long as fuck and had nothing to do with the topic at hand. That shit pissed me off and then I realized...

I forgot to disable anonymous comments and shit when I changed templates. Consider that a freebie.

Why did I have over 100 pairs of shoes and couldn't decide which ones to keep this past weekend?

Did I mention that the newest #3 wearing a Bulls uni is a bit tougher and polished than the last? Can I also say that for the next 2-3 years we'll be saying 'fuck D.Wade and the King" a lot with that smothering defense?

Pino: Y'all getting Alley-I. Still doesn't matter. Paul just signed an extension ant it ain't enough balls to go around for that offense to score.

Condileeza Rice still rocking the same do from the Clinton administration.

Tornado = New York as Rapture = Humankind

Nikki Indigo took you deep into Dallas with that piece, right? Go to her blog by looking over ----> there.

I got nothing else. I'll catch up with y'all in a week or so. Wish me luck and pray that I don't get lynched.

Thanks for paying attention to my stank ass.

Hassan.

My Screwface List... And my dream

Damn, moving around makes the brother busy.

I need to make the ultimate playlist to get my mind right. I got the mind to hook up what I like to call my 'screwface list', that usually being a bunch of cuts on the iPod that make a brother scrunch up the face while at the gym messing with that heavy stuff. As I'm on the road, I see that need some screwface music to get that face going. I'll save the Conya Doss, Incognito and EWF for when I get to the restspot.

I'm digging thru the hard drive right now, blowing dust off of the M.O.P., OGC, Redman and some Three 6 Mafia cuts that give me the hardest of screwfaces. Yeah, that'll do it. That, the pro-black powerfist T-shirts and just the aura of the dread should keep em' away. I don't know what it is, maybe the Gnarles Barkley vibe I'm currently in is making folks wanna walk up to me and ask the strangest shit.

"Is that all of your real hair?"

"Oh my, are you from here?"

"What made you want to travel to this part of the US"

How long have you had your hair?"

"Does it hurt to have it looking like that?"

"I hear that you have to have your hair at its dirtiest to make it look that way. How can you go that long without washing your hair?"

(what?)

"Your English is full of clarity, like you were born here. Impressive."

"Oh, you're from here? Wow, I wouldn't have guessed by looking at you."

"Wow, is that an iPod? Where'd you get yours?"

"You sound so educated..."

(whatever. I must remember that we only make up 11% of the populous and most of em don't see much of us outside of TV. Gotta remember that. Please, can't forget that)

Don't know about you, but I like to left alone as I go to and fro. I speak, make eye contact and give the head nod in succession to the next cat, kitten or elder like I'm from Savannah, GA but when I got bags and am at the monitors trying to find out what terminal I'm supposed to be in I got 2 words for ya':

Stay the hell back

So I need to make my list and check it twice before I jap the hell out and you be reading about my ass in your local paper under 'National Headlines'.

Lord help me...

Here goes my list, watchu think:

Real N**** Roll Call - Lil John f/Ice Cube
Cell Therapy - GooDieMoB
Da Rockwilder - Meth and Red
Knock The Black off Yo Ass - Three 6 Mafia
Who Got Gunz - Gangstarr f/Fat Joe & M.O.P.
How About Some Hardcore - M.O.P.
Time For Some Akshun - Redman
Wild For The Night - Rampage f/Busta Rhymes
F*ck The Police - NWA
Got You All In Check (Whoo Ha) - Busta Rhymes
Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos - Public Enemy
GunClapp - Smif N Wessun
Reign Of The Tech - Beatnuts
Strictly For My N****s - 2Pac
Amerikkka's Most Wanted - Ice Cube
Punks Jump Up To Get Beat Down - Brand Nubian
Throw Your Gunz - Onyx
Kick In The Door - Notorious B.I.G.
Read These Nikes - Geto Boys
B.D.S. (Bust Dat Sh*t) - De La Soul
Danger - Blazay Blah
Let's Get Dirty - Redman f/Fat Man Scoop
Come Clean - Jeru The Damaga
6 In Tha Mornin - Ice T
Fight The Power - Public Enemy
Never Seen A Man Cry - Scarface
Natural Born Killaz - Dr Dre and Ice Cube
Bring The Pain - Method Man
I Don't Give A F*ck - Lil John & The Eastside Boys
CANNON - Busta Rhymes f/Papoose
High Powered - RBX
No Escaping This - Beatnuts f/Greg Nice

Just a small sample of what I'm syncing to get the scowl back. In my traveling and maneuvering I've lost my frown and am smiling more and that's attracting people in my direction. If this keeps up, I'll start hugging folks and striking up convo with perfect strangers. I might even start playing with children in terminals, shaking hands and kissing babies like I'm on some ballot in 2008.

Wait...

That's a damn good idea.

Me, the Hip Hop demographic, a platform based on returning to values based on grass root support to build inward, thus creating a new cornerstone that infastructure can be built from within the hood, job growth and stabilization based on software and hardware certification to high school graduates and manufacturing and repair of related networking devices thus bringing our community closer to the digital divide. Building service related factories in the hood, keeping these jobs in the US and giving tax breaks to the companies that build em' and enticing them to stay with long-term bonds used to finance the facilities, creating more opportunities for entry level and non-degreed individuals giving them a shot at management positions based right in their own neighborhood. Partnering with labor unions to address the shortage of truck drivers and rail workers by mobilizing hiring drives in low-income areas. Proposing a payroll deduction bond program for working parents to contribute to a 529 education plan for their children. Yes, pre-tax dollars put in an interest bearing bond account that matures when your child is ready for college, sweet. Approaching corporations like Microsoft and Cisco to offer certification academies at the high school level, thrusting teenagers into networking by offering pre-college credit, scholarships based on certification and the opportunity at the many $30k plus networking jobs right out of high school. Hell, I might even suggest an internship program from the 10th grade until graduation, and a partnership with accredited institutions to offer an accelerated degree program along with those certifications. That'll put em at $40k before they turn 25. Oh, and open enrollment and better explanation of benefits for Medicare eligible retirees. Oh, and a father training academy for male parents under 21 years of age.

Maybe I'm dreaming and wishing too much for change... That music/screwface thing has my mind going.

Life in the country is fine

Blogging from the road is hard. I got photos but give me a minute... Left the USB cable back in never neverland.

Yeah, it's official, I had to move up my plans and get on the grind a little sooner than expected. Until late September/early October I'll be a hotel living, company-provided transport riding, chocolate coffee bean eating trying to stay awake, penny pinching budgeting ass brother in training.

Wish me well.

This is a significant change from what I thought I was going to do. Not only have I left Chicago, I also left my job, family and friends and all of my possessions that I could not give away or sell (minus sentimental shit and freedom papers), and that felt oddly good.

I think.

I've been eluding to starting over from scratch and it seems that I was forced into doing it like this thanks to a few situations and opportunities that presented themselves rather quickly. I'm looking at this more as a challenge now and I'm measuring myself in every step to make sure I'm where I want to be and I get what I want. I was in some type of Matrix induced haze (thanks Coreen) living in the Chi and I had no real support with what I was trying to do from those that I thought I was close to me. I don't fault anyone but myself. I know that everybody has their own shit to muddle thru, I just thought that the time, effort money and support I used to be right there for a lot of folk went unappreciated. People did shit for me and I do appreciate that, but, the bad outweighed the good.

Some people just can't see what I saw. I thought I saw God in a lot of folk but I was mistaken. Hell, I am the company I keep so there wasn't a whole lotta' God in me, so I had to break free, straighten up and fly right.

So, I got rid of all the things that attatched me to those places, people and things that ate me up inside. I'll start over. I'm traveling extensively in this new job, and maybe if ATL ain't the place for me to be then I'll find where I need to be and build my fortress of solitude there.

Trust me when I tell you that I'm a little afraid. This is where I step out on faith to replace that. Sister Serenity told me that fear is the opposite of faith so I'll replace my fears and put all things in His hands. Now if I could just stop cussing...

I can breathe now. I feel like I just lost 100 pounds. I actually smiled for my job profile photo today and It feels good to be here with myself, by myself. I wish I would have had this courage to step away years ago. Imagine where I'd be if I would've done that!

It's a good Monday, I hope all of y'all are having one. I'm sitting here laughing to myself, thinking about that whole first day of the rest of your life saying that some people use. That makes me smile even harder because I'm being forced to do something about it in every sense of my actions. In re-launching me I have to be on it every damn day. As it stands right now all I have tangible is this job and nothing else. I'll worry bout' the apartment in a few weeks. First thoughts had me not enjoying this, but I am enjoying what I do for a change and not drudging the whole work thing because that definately bleeds over into everything else.

Thank God for change because change is good.

Nah, just thank God. Sometimes We are given too much and we can get lost in that. Material possessions can always be obtained, you can always put people around you, but if you fail to put yourself with the right people in the right areas you will indeed fail. That's what I did. I put them and those before The Father and myself. The domino effect of BS was the sobering red pill that woke me up and convinced me to take myself out of the Matrix. No offense to those friends and fam back in the Chi, I still love y'all but you know everything was just wrong. I was wrong for being there so I'm correcting some things. I get the message now loud and clear and that is you can't be where you aren't either wanted or appreciated. Sometimes it's best to go it alone and I knew this, but I kept on pushing. With my actions, in time other things will be corrected as well we just gotta have patience. Now that I removed myself from the equation a furious burden was lifted off of me and I feel 100 times better about self and situation.

Life in the country is fine.

I love that song...

Mork calling Orson... Come in Orson

Thanks for putting up with my long ass posts in the past week. Trust me, they'll get longer (probably) and more in depth (most likely) in the next few weeks. I'm sure you noticed the pre-mixedness about them, right?

No?

Oh, okay.

Good.

It helps to prep things in advance when switching zip codes. I'm already there, you just don't know it yet.

I need some housewarming gifts, I came empty handed.

Good thoughts, good weekend, and thanks for the support and comments...

Hassan

Bigger Than Hip Hop?

It's time to acknowledge that there is a rift, better yet a split causing members in our various beloved generations to make noise, airing out grievances in mainstream media.

I think that this is more of an internal thing and is something that we should address ourselves without assistance from others from the outside. Yes, I believe that we should still have a secret brotha/sista coalition complete with secret handshakes as well as nice digs in various cities to house said secret meetings to boot.

The whole Oprah versus Hip Hop thing will get overblown and overanaylized and if we ain't careful someone will take shorts based on bias and favoritism by the others, and because sister Winfrey is the end all-be all to most in that business hip hop can and probably will surely lose based on what cats like Luda, 50 and Cube are standing on.

No doubt, I've shaken my ass, bobbed my head and recited a lyric or two from all of these artists. I've seen the movies (except for 50's 'Get Rich' joint) with firm enjoyment and I definitely respect these cat's creative flow, writing style and business sense, but I have to admit that when it comes to respect, although these brothers and others (specifically Ice Cube over the last 20 years) although they have generated BILLIONS of dollars or revenue for their respective handlers, corporations and production facilities and have sparked all types of new business based off of their talent, wit and drive hip hop will only get respect from the streets and those obsessed with it outside of the hood.

Corporate America hasn't really respected Hip Hop as a viable culture outside of it being an ever changing merchandise maker. Billions have been invested, the input of those resources are only there because there is a guaranteed return based on a niche audience infatuated with how and what we do, and it ain't all of us in the hood pumping all that money in it like you think we are. There is a lust for to be a part and to learn our culture based on our people being able to invent and reinvent for survival and to most this is a brilliant thing. How we survive by creation is so impressive.

Imagine how Hip Hop culture started when music programs were non existent to nil in our school public school systems back in the late 60s and early 70s. I imagine how we created a style of dress, linguistics and a whole new genre of music based off our material shortcomings and resources in the hood. We took records and let the party emcee talk shit over the break part of the record while the party was going. The emcee sparked party participation to the point of frenzy and that response from the audience that he or she developed made them into distinct personalities, causing each of them to be known as that neighborhood's crowd movers and live-wire hosts in which they rocked.

Modern versions on how we dressed when we went to these parties can now be found in the windows of Macy's and other clothing outlets and it generates hundreds of millions of dollars as an industry leader and trend setter. Magazines, printed media and DVD culture spawned from mixtapes and breakbeat records generates millions. The cool lingo and street speak created by hustling culture and the code of the streets now influences major advertising and marketing campaigns outside of out neighborhoods and is mainstream as hell. It causes folks that do not look like us to speak in a manner that makes their parents and grandparents heads snap.

Just think: The Budweiser "WASSUP" commercial series is known as the greatest advertising campaign ever as voted by various respondents aged 24-64 polled from various backgrounds, cultures and financial brackets nationally as reported by multiple mainstream American market research companies from the year 2000 to present. People remember that catchphrase years later and it did what it was supposed to do, bring attention to a certain product or service...

That's impact.

It's also hoodspeak repeated on the regular by those that would have never heard it if it wasn't for that commercial series. Thanks Charles Stone III. This cat also directed the hip hop period piece "Paid In Full" starring Wood Harris and Mekhi Phifer back in 2002. Small door opens, larger opportunity awaits.

Damn. Why would we need validation from someone else when we have validated ourselves just by us being us?

We do influence other cultures by way of colorful language, clothing and mannerisms because we are uniquely American with African DNA. Because we are mutts in a sense of being bred, having split our pure blood ties from Mother Africa through years of rape, slave breeding and relations with other cultures we are a careful creative derivative from the norm, capable of existing within any time, space and culture. Without disrespect to who we are, we exist like cockroaches on this Babylon-ish planet, always able to reinvent and be fine whether it be negro spirituals, ragtime, jazz, rock and roll, rhythm and blues, soul or hip hop. And that's just culture based off of music. We pioneer so much in other realms as well but my focus right now is hip hop.

We exist within other cultures because we have no true biological American identity and links to our cousins back home have been somewhat severed. Outside of the digital medium we have today we were somewhat isolated from research tools to find where we came from, but thanks to Dr. Henry Louis Gates and great scholars of the like that link is becoming re-established thanks to DNA research, the internet, TV and plain old networking.

That's another post, another convo. We'll get there, but back to how this relates to Oprah and Hip Hop...

Ice Cube, Ludacris, 50 Cent and have all built their careers on the foundation of rap lyrics that aren't so friendly to certain folk in the community, competition and sisters in general. I personally have a problem with someone asking for love from the community when he or she is spouting off bullshit about the hood and those in it. Contradictory. I respect 50's gangsta businesswise I really do, but the fact that he's calling out folk on his record as stupid, bitch ass niggas, objectifying women as well as bragging about crimes and misdemeanors (as well as felonies), us buying his shit making him rich while sheepishly dancing to it makes me wonder if we'll ever hold them accountable for their actions.

Ludacris has bonified hits, but I cannot support him as well as he specifically points out women and carves out lyrical tales of dickery (yeah, I made that up) against bitches, hos and groupies. That shit is tired. There is a market for it, no doubt, but as these artists grow they must know by looking at their returns and numbers that the influence grows as well. To ask for even ground with Oprah and others in her arena isn't in my opinion the thing to do at this moment.

I can see Russell and other old school cats that have laid foundation and groundwork for political, social and artistic change getting respect like what some want based off of action over the years. I do know that some of these brothers looking for mainstream acceptance and others have set up non-profits and have foundations, but understand that is has to be manifested at a grass roots level first and change has to be made and influences have to be recognized by those receiving assistance in order to be recognized outside of the hood once again, over the years. Respect is earned with time and effort. Holding one's nuts on stage and rocking the microphone a respected force for change does not make.

Because Oprah controls her media empire she can pick and choose who she associates with and when. Not saying that these cats don't have the reach that Ms. Winfrey has, it's currently on a different level. They perform. She performs but over the last 20 years has planted seeds of change and provoked thought with her works and its spinoffs. Wanting the global spotlight to gain a wider audience is what we all would want if we were in their shoes, but understand that folks like Oprah, especially ones that control such a large portion of what their genre sees and hears based off of their own personal opinion is a generation or two separated from these cats and her listening tastes and understanding of the culture is based on what her and her peers deem as just as far as preference and tastes goes. Maybe she chooses to listen to Hip Hop that is not threatening or insulting to her. She has that choice, ya know?

Rappers creating songs like 'A Bitch Is A Bitch' and 'Move, Bitch' aren't ways to impress Ma and Pop Dukes or songs to have our children listen, learn or dance to. It does buy them the house and help them gain acceptance and privilidge based on revenues earned from its niche audience, but it's not enough. We realize that this is only entertainment, but in the same breath we must also realize that a lot of the lyrical content spouted off and actions performed by some of these cats are harmful in nature based on exactly WHO it influences. Hip Hop is marketed to young folks and its combination of the multiple facets that are its makeup within the culture is marketed as cool and the thing to do.

There are other artists out there on all levels within this culture that can help create balance within our culture. It's not all vulgar and disrespectful, we must understand that the huge marketing machines behind some of these artists know that sex and violence sells. We must maintain control over what we and our children listen to. The streets (and our kids) are indeed watching so the same argument used about movies and shows must be utilized. Hip hop cannot be the exception. There are multiple styles and versions of this culture aimed at different audiences and ages. We cannot go forward thinking that hip hop is only what Cube, Luda and 50 represents in their music when there is so much more from its related subcultures.

So Oprah doesn't have to do anything for these cats, and why should she when the legacy and love for an artist is based in the body of that artist's work. For someone considered outside the culture to look in and base opinion based off of foundation, it would be hard to want to get close to these particular artists. Not saying we can't grow as people and/or artists but..

How long will we condone these grown ass men and women (some married, with children) to pump that BS to us and we accept it as the mainstream with it being so available to our kids and elders? There is and should be a balance of music, arts and media available to us so we should be in control, buck the mainstream and dictate what's good to us.

I don't expect Oprah or anyone for that matter that has the ability to look from another perspective to accept something that is not quite geared for or to them. When one listens, he or she should be able to see things for what they are. Certain performers do what makes them money and gains them favor from their niche audience and have no concern for anyone else outside of that demographic. It's hard for anyone to take that shit seriously when all you hear or read is straight material bullshit in their works.

I ask again, how long will we condone this? How long will we have these cats represent us and we say nothing, turn our heads and walk away? Where's the balance in hip hop and why does Oprah have to validate it with certain folk?

Independence Of...

We'll start here:

And so the subject of political change has been the topic in summer conversation.

A lot of folk in the community have spent considerable time in the last few years pointing fingers at our president for staring a war he had no clue congress voted in favor of a few days after September 11th. Now we know he jumped the bandwagon and did something no other president since Roosevelt has and that's claim responsibility for said war, but as long as there are hundreds of senators and congresspeople combined that have the power to veto our commander in chief and we are salary paying constituents with the right to both bear arms and form a militia to overthrow corrupt government I believe that the war is our burden and responsibility.

We haven't done shit.

I am not ashamed to say that out people are blatantly misinformed and ignorantly ranting about who's fault this or that is. I am not here to correct folks or try to force my ideals and beliefs on anyone, It just makes my ass itch something terrible when I hear black folk in America go on about how it is someone else's fault about this, that and such, causing conversation and debate so heated that only releasing George W's name as root, cause and solution as far as removal goes from one's lips is the end all-be all one time fix to open the doors prosperity for all communities.

Bullshit.

As far as I can remember I've been in a fucked up situation as a black man in America way before America's first CEO president took office.

Shit wasn't better when Clinton was in office either, so don't even go there with me. And if you want to get into the cost of living/cost per barrel oil/gas debate with me, there is proof that under the Reagan administration the cost adjustments and undue increase of demand of billions of barrels of oil with the help of stateside petrol companies along with cooperation of the auto industry to support OPEC's efforts to maneuver itself as top dog supplier AFTER we run everyone else dry has been supported by every sitting president including the so-called 'black' one.

Black Americans have always been duped. And the jedi mind tricks by the Democratic Party in general must stop.

And proper understanding of how each party works is in order.

Still doesn't mean we support either. And yes, I voted Republican in quite a few elections based on actual research, thought and calculation, not just based off of general opinion of certain personalities that have created opportunities for themselves by being vocal and outspoken through various forms of the media.

Leads me to my question.

You are either a grown-ass man or woman. What in the hell are you personally going to do to make change politically in your neck of the woods?

Campaigns are starting, candidates are polling and we will fall for the same bullshit again if we continue to be sheep to TV ads, really bad speeches and personality contests. When in the hell do you plan on standing up and doing some grass roots shit?

There are school councils that need your help.

Neighborhood watch committees can help protect you from getting that ass whooped right in front of your home.

City council meetings do happen. If you're tired of seeing them coon ass, sellout niggers (I said it) that sell that shit out on the corner and endanger the lives of your kids, then go and ask for a better fucking streetlight. Just like roaches...

Know about community programs, church organizations and non-profits that want to help the community improve.

QUIT LOOKING THE OTHER WAY! As long as you let them sell drugs, operate unscrupulous businesses, let cops act corrupt and dupe you politically whether it is your councilperson or president YOU ARE THE FOOL. Complain about that, eh? SAY SOMETHING... Better yet DO SOMETHING!

Get up off your ass and RUN FOR OFFICE YOUR DAMNSELF. You might lose, but in trying you might inspire someone else to carry your dream forward. They might hold an office one day.

Congregate and START A NEW POLITICAL PARTY. Who in the fuck said that voting Democrat, Republican or Independent will do any good for anything? Is that really where your interests exist?

Take a class in poli-sci... Better yet if you have children, crack open one of them history books they got. Let's get a refresher in how things get done around here.

Support neighborhood businesses... And stay away from big box stores dammit!!! How is your community to survive otherwise without the services of small business?

Buy American... I know you ain't doing that one but I'll mention it anyway.

Keep in tune with exactly what the government does by going to C-Span a time or two. There are way too many publications and media outlets to not know what's going on and better yet, who actually has it going on. This way you can point the right finger at the right person.

Know who makes it shake in your neighborhood. City, District. State. At least find out who the gawtdam precinct captain is. Shit, is that a lot to ask?

REGISTER TO VOTE. You have no recourse if you ain't voting. No vote, no complaints.

I know that it's a lot to ask for but...

What are YOU going to do?