Siblings Are For Suckers

I almost killed my brother yesterday.

I was assisting my brother with making a supply run for his delivery company. He called me over a month ago and asked if I could help him with streamlining and modernizing his business for added profitability. I initially balked at helping him because he uses people and never reciprocates. That and plus we never got along.

We are polar opposites, I went to the military and school to educate myself on dealing with the world, my brother dropped out of high school and started hustling on the street. He became well known for his successes and has a large crew, I was known for my successes and power moves in the blue collar, then the corporate setting and by both main street and mean street standards, we both did exceptionally well.

He owns a delivery company that started out as a hustle about 6 years ago and he needs help to stay relevant and is overwhelmed and needs to expand. My younger siblings won't look in his direction because my older brother is straight gully with his shit. he is the epitome of 'ghetto'. He has ambition and good business sense, but he's absolutely the wrong cat to bring to a corporate setting for meetings and such. So he calls about six weeks ago and tells me that since half the company is mine, he could use me as the corporate face. He knows his limitations and understands that with my acumen used on the suit side, he can stay on the boot side and do his thing as I do mine, both of us enhancing the company profile.

I reluctantly decide to help his ass, and for three days, our travels to client sites, meetings and heavy work on deliveries and supply runs became nothing but shouting matches, disagreements and ended with me putting his ass out of my car on the way to a huge client supply pick up.

We argued over two dollars.

You see, he has a new employee (3 months in) that makes food deliveries for a string of Chinese joints in which he delivers the food timely, collects payment from the customer, gets in his vehicle and just rides off. he never speaks of change or gives change to the end customer. So the owner of the restaurants, Mrs. Kim calls and my brother puts her on speaker. She's irate as hell, shouting and cussing that this individual never gives her customers their proper change and this is a make or break habit he has to break or she's switching services. I immediately explain to my brother after the call that we must enforce a zero tolerance policy and release this man from his contract. He balks. He also made excuses for the driver to Mrs. Kim and then he insulted and irritated the FUCK out of me by calling the driver, apologizing to him for the inconvenience and stated "Aye, you cool, get that money man, I didn't think that lady would trip over two dollars man."

What.the.Fuck?

My brother has balked at every single suggestion made to either improve or enhance his business. He fussed, cussed, questioned my sanity, manhood and education whenever I made any critique or suggestion. He got gully with me, so I got gully with his ass. I let him know what time it was and how i absolutely cannot deal with unscrupulous business practices as the law. I questioned his integrity after he basically said 'fuck the customer, I need to get paid' He also confided in me that he doesn't know what integrity is. This negro done lost his muthafuckin mind!

SIDEBAR: We never got along as kids. We tried to kill each other on various occasions. We had a serious Spy vs Spy, I'm gon' kill your ass thing that went on for years. We never lost touch, but purposely kept out of each other's way since 1992 or 1993.

So I said my piece and we ended out night rescuing the thief of a driver because he couldn't finish his route because he ran out of gas. My brother grabbed money out of his own pocket and used my gas can to get dude about a quarter tank of gas. Never asked for reimbursement. Even fronted on me jokingly to this cat on how I've been gone from Chicago for 14 years and how I don't know the street system. This cat is only 16 months older than me, and other than my travels in the military, vacations, corporate training, me 'dragging' my ex across the country inconveniencing  her by trying to establish a home base and make new opportunities for us to become a family as well as me me trucking across the highways of America, Chicago has always been my home.

This muthafucker...

So this morning on the supply run, he brings the shit back up. So I asked him: "in this moment, can I be replaced?" He said no, but in the same breath, he said  that since thieving driver dude makes him over a thousand bucks a week, he would rather keep him on than to have me around at all because all I've done in the past few days is take from him.

I pulled the car over, unbuckled my seat belt and calmly told him to get the fuck out of my car. He started talking again, so I reiterated my position and asked him to un-ass my vehicle or there was going to be a problem. He stated that he didn't want a problem, got out, and I went on my merry way. I hope to GOD that i never see his ass ever again in my natural life. I could probably tolerate his ass at a funeral or something, but other than that...

I truly hate that dude.

Am I wrong?

///

Eleven!!!

O.T.I.S. (Occupy The Intergalactic Spaceways) Movement: Journal Entry 1409.63 [AKA some science fiction shit I just made up sitting here because I'm bored as hell]

Press PLAY, then read along...

So I'm cruising thru the Delta Quadrant in my C class spaceship the other day... Or was it night? I get stardates mixed up these days.

I see this black hole forming on my long range sensors. my droid assistant is going all 'DANGER WILL ROBINSON' batshit crazy about keeping my course set in that direction. I'm calm and in newly minted deep thought because I'm thinking to myself: what can possibly happen if I get caught up in that implosion? There has to be something on the other side of time and space intertwining into nothingness, right?

I have a right to check these sort of things out... Don't I?

Well after asking my on board computers to calculate the possibility of the ship and I becoming anti-matter if we get sucked into and become inanimate intergalactic trash, I decided to have the sensors zoom in, record the phenomenon onto the hard drive so I could watch it later. I need to see how close I could get to one of those things. I marvel at and wonder about what happens if I could survive the force and anti forces and get to the other side of a black hole. I personally think they are wormholes to inner space.

My gut tells me that there is more to all of this than just... THIS. Maybe I'll meet God.

I wish I could overstand things further.

I am bored. This much travel from Mother Earth has made me long to be back on the lakefront on the south side of Chicago, watching the sisters in the lycra outfits get fit to rhythms only they can hear and the joggers and bikers navigate the trails and paved and painted paths while enjoying the gentle lake breezes and sunshine. But I chose this. Hyperspace travel puts me too far to turn around. It's just me, a one man travel cruiser and a pretty decent food replicator heading to a planet we think has humanoid life and resources similar to ours.

I'm all by myself. Well, I have a droid and his humor is dry. He's a fucking droid, so...





All I need is the simple food generated and water formed from the moisture space provides. I have terabytes of data, entertainment and recorded memories loaded onto a cache of  indestructible hard drives that I occasionally view to keep me grounded, to keep me... Human. I'm not supposed to be here, but after realizing that Earth had nothing to offer me in a mate, children or family that actually give a damn, the selection process unsnagged itself when I just plainly volunteered and signed all of the waivers.


So now I float thru deep space, chasing a signal that probably isn't one. The day we received coherent transmission from someone not of our own kind, we felt the need to respond. initially, we couldn't track the direction of the signal and remained skeptical of a frequency that seemed copied and sent from somewhere out of nowhere, but the world's collective space programs quickly put together a exploration program and needed someone to man the craft in following through to have first contact with extra-terrestrial life not of our galaxy. I wanted to go. I wanted to see how much my body and mind could take being alone in the vacuum of space.

Human contact had boycotted and then left me years before I went thru the training program. My commander referred to me as one 'of the droids' in drafting the mission plan he submitted to the powers that be. i was approved unanimously to go. I was thought of as the perfect subject for the Earth to lose.

I'm not insulted.

So now my 'days' begin with some bland tasting nutritional goo and kinetic movement. I create a morning brief via webcam from various angles to display my physical readiness for the mission and give the ship's condition and fuel levels to send backward to command. I receive transmissions of the goings on of the world about six weeks late from current time, and it gets later the more I travel towards the designated spot offered by the unknown alien committee. They now prepare my briefs on news, sports and pop culture in the old Movietime News format for a change of pace. Also added are female correspondents wearing low cut tops to keep me on my mental toes. Tit shots in space... Not bad. I manage though. Like I didn't bring a stash of my own porn. They say out here in space, no one can hear you scream. Very true.

Managing the ship's operations on the mission is the least of my concerns. Command made the vehicle easy to operate by incorporating a lot of 'driving' features which helps navigation by familiarization. The unit is solar powered and also has some nasty nuclear stuff at its core to make it travel faster than jet propulsion could ever push me. The five years I've been confined to the ship without space station porting actually feels like three. At some points, I've encountered turbulence that I thought would engulf me and rattle the ship to its core, but I survive and this little thing just pushes on.

The ship has four levels with a lounge and 'entertainment area' that I can retire to to observe incoming transmissions, any of the many movies, concerts and sporting events I have stashed away or family memories recorded for me. It helps to have space. It hurts to watch my nephews and nieces get grown and accomplish teen and adulthood without my hand.

The reason I get my dates and times mixed up is because I try to memorize the history script as I try to put the ways of the world out of my head. Cheeseburgers, politics and shit. Relationships. People irking the shit out of you. What to wear to a wedding. Hailing a taxi. The clog in the kitchen sink. Stepping in dog shit. I know we all must die, but to know that the world still turns, the stock market churns either with or against our economy and the White Sox still play ball games without me physically being on the planner but am still alive kills my spirit.



I have no idea what I'm getting into. Some think that the signal sent is no signal at all. Others think it's a trap. There are a chosen few that say that God Herself spoke to us in that transmission. Either way, we ended up building a long term travel vessel that I'm utilizing to go to where they've requested us to go. We have no knowledge of the way of life, features or intent of these beings deity or not, but because I deemed my life on Earth useless, I decided that my eyes should be the first to view either the friend or foe from the other side of the universe. We have time capsules for them chronicling all of our planet's history, research and triumphs.

There is also a presentation from the world league and our president, who was deemed to speak for the world with China's leader selected as second voice. We're assuming by the sophisticated nature of the transmission received that they are able to understand us. I also have monologue to recite in our extension of open arms, peace and good will.

I'm not afraid. I've studied the map and at least in the eye of danger or death will know where I end. I have no idea where this either begins or ends. I'll be on this ship traveling east towards the actual edges of the fringe of the universe to meet something I know not of what the outcome becomes. But I was the only one without reservation... A recycled piece of trash being used as a possible conduit to the other side of the immeasurable vast thing that we call space. If these beings don't want me, then my theory is confirmed.

Unwanted is unwanted, even in service to the damn universe. C'mon ship, hurl me to the unknown. I'm ready to get this over with. I'd shit a brick if they reveal themselves as little green men with big melon heads. I need a good joke right now anyway. The droid is dry, corny and has no timing.

Pondering My Parental's Petulance

So I talked to my dad yesterday evening. He's not doing as well I expected. He keeps showing up at the emergency room with various ails and I know that this is his way of asking for someone on his medical staff to do something.

His heart rate is very low and they've suggested a pacemaker. Thing is, he's on so much stuff chemically that they probably can't do anything at this moment if they wanted to. He's pushing for the pacemaker as well because he knows (and feels) that the drugs are dragging him down, making him lethargic. Pops is an active guy. Hell, he's only 61. He also mentioned a few things that have the holistic healer in me angry as hell because he's still repping cheeseburgers as a way of life.

So we're knee deep in conversation and I'm quizzing him on his green leaf and water intake to which he answers 'Well I need to lose some of this weight and do like you said and get on my greens because I'm having a hard time moving around, you know?' Yeah, I know. The motivation to get off of dairy and red meat is there, and it looks good in theory, but let me at least finish this cheeseburger my wife made me and we'll discuss further after dinner. Honey, pass the milk.

I love my Pops, but...

Every time I think about or talk to both sets of my parents, I keep seeing the Tony Todd Coroner character from the Final Destination  series:

Dammit! He's talking to me and I know he's right too.


So what about this whole 'calling' thing I mentioned the other day?

Well, I feel that I need to use myself as the example in gaining success and in getting healthy enough to want to sit down with folk face to face and possibly influence them with my story. Nothing more or less than that, no dogma involved, no hard pitch sales job on either a product or a service. I just want to show people that one can heal from various ills whether they be physical, mental or spiritual, and where there is no real formula developed that's what I want to show... That there is no formula!

Now I am back in student mode with an accredited healing institute paring what I've already learned and experienced academically and living  thirteen years with diabetes/chronic kidney disease with what I'm learning now about holistic healing and its applied practices, and currently I can't tell you nothing but... I'm experiencing better results clinically by letting go of tradition that I ever have with the various teams of doctors and clinicians I've assembled over the years. And it goes beyond prescription medicine and a pill bottle discipline.

I just feel that if as long as I use myself as the example that my family and friends will probably take a bit of what I'm doing and will follow suit. I have a long way to go before I complete the educational and practical part of becoming a Holistic Health Practitioner, but just the practice on myself is enough to possibly motivate my parentals to want to emulate what I do and want to live.

Talking to my Pops the other night brought me down a bit. I was watching a webcast of Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue rip a venue I frequent a lot in NOLA called Tipitina's to shreds in anticipation of the new album he just dropped yesterday.

click the link, go get that

I could hear the defeat in his voice.

There was a sense of give in my mother's voice when I spoke to her last week as well. I think that they feel as if they aren't working or taking care of kids or grand kids that they have no worth and there is nothing further to do. like they have served their primary function and purpose.



In America we are culturally conditioned to believe that all things white are superior and all things black are inferior. And the manifestation of that cultural conditioning is that African Americans are undervalued, underestimated, and marginalized


My parents and their spouses have lived their lives in service to their children, their extended families and the community in service via employment, and have lived their lives thinking that there was nothing more to life other than being these things to these people. And even though my father has 26 plus years on the job and my mother has over 20 on hers, they feel as if there is no reward or additional meanings for life beyond their kids getting grown and moving out of the house and them reaching the age of retirement.

And because they are so bound to tradition, religion and the forced adaptation and integration to society at society's level and not their own...

There is no motivation to move off of fast food, traditional soul food dishes that rob them of their vitality and to keep the tune in the pocket when it comes to travel, exercise and meaningful purpose in being an elder in society. I want to help them unlearn this bad practice and let them know that there is so much more to life and living in America for them than to just just give up, wilt away and die.

It seems that society hasn't much need for African American elders. Hell, the Tea Party debates the other proved that certain folk would just let a 30 year old working man with no insurance just die if he didn't have coverage.

I may be too late. For them.

But I'll die trying. For them.

For you, dear reader... I'll continue to try to live the example and show you as well.
Now my shit ain't perfect. I will fall and fall off the wagon. I will get angry and probably head out for a three piece dark with mild sauce and fries on the side until I realize halfway to the Popeye's that it makes my legs go numb and tingle and that my lower back and kidneys will ache for damn near twelve hours and I'll be blind for four. As a matter of fact, my shit smells remarkably like...


Shit.

But I am willing to live and show you my shit. Not literally. I'm talking about my actions (and inaction for that matter). Thank God there is no such thing as smellivision.

Choosing To Be Chosen

I'm not mad.

Nope, I am not angry.


"Knowledge is power, and knowledge can be the difference between life or death... You should know the truth and the truth shall set you free."


Intro - 'Who's Going Take The Weight' GangStarr

I am indifferent though. I thought I'd be long dead before folk got to the point where decisions were made for them and they would willingly accept it. I'm trying to ignore this, but the disease has seem to have spread to the family that keeps me at arm's distance and the 2 and a half people in my very limited inner circle.

I love y'all, but...

Speaking of the folk I hold close and dear, the subject matter of many a conversation about 'The Choice You Must Make In Maturity' has been had with litttle or no response on us actually making a choice. Aside from trying to get myself back on track physically, I've been strategizing and optimizing  (hee Lee! *waiving*) on said choice fn either 'giving in' to my calling or continuing the chase of individual glory and its endless reward of finance and unbelievable happiness upon reaching the top of the mountain. Of course that's after stepping on and over folk using friendships, relationships and associations to get there.

Lord knows I have failed in the aspect of the latter.


You can't be sleepin'
cuz things are gettin' crazy
You better stop being lazy
There's many people frontin'
And many brothers droppin'
All because of dumb things, let me tell you somethin'
I've been through so much that I'm such
a maniac, but I still act out of faith


See, I've tried to latch onto it, be employed and employ it... Shit, I've tried to marry it, contract it out, direct market that ish and went on expeditions digging for it.

Fools gold.

All that time, my calling was in a holding pattern, circling around me just waiting until I exhausted all of the possibilities in chasing things that wasn't there.

I'm comfortable. I'm fine with the way things are. I don't have a want for much these days. I also know exactly what happens to those in the calm of  tumultuous storms who chose to not board up and evacuate while watching the weather channel...

It took these past months for me to accept the fact that I might have a serious handicap in the coming future. After I thought on it, I figure that I need to accomplish at least one thing on my bucket list while I still have all my faculties, so I started a fast. Weeks and various two pound containers of wheat grass powder and fresh juices later, I realized that I was healing faster than the doctors' original forecast.

Not that I had much faith in the general medical doctors. Understood was that these cats are trained on general medicine and the implementation of chemicals to balance sickness and wellness. I trusted the word of my neurosurgeon and neurologist, having been inside my head and interpreting the various scans and things.


I needed someone to defend my position
Decisions I made, cuz now it's time to get paid
And ladies, these rhymes are like the keys to a dope car
Maybe a Lexus or a Jaguar
Still, all of that is just material
So won't you dig the scenario
And just imagine if each one is teachin' one
We'll come together so that we become
A strong force, then we can stay on course
Find your direction through introspection
And for my people out there I got a question
Can we be the sole controllers of our fate?
Now who's gonna take the weight?


After dropping over forty pounds of useless fat, I figured that I would walk the walk that I promised my dearly departed friend that I'd do. I was in the process of saving myself by getting off of all of the drugs they had me on months after initially injuring myself. That shit was making me sicker and more dependent on them and others for me to live.

I kicked the drugs, went out and found a job here in Green Country and decided that when I reached maximum medical improvement, I would go where I am both liked and needed most and set up shop, using myself as an example of healing by nature of resistance to societal influence.

In that time, i lost a few friends along with the weight and chemical influence along the way.

I also blogged, texted, tweeted and facebooked myself through a very imbalanced stupor, meaning that I've been faking the funk to those I communicated with from about January to about May, speaking as if I was okay and was in my right mind.

I probably wasn't.


The weight of the world is heavy on my mind
So as my feelings unwind I find
That some try to be down just cuz it's trendy
Others fall victim to envy
But I'll take the road less travelled
So I can see all my hopes and my dreams unravel


1990 - Keith Elam Album: Step In The Arena - Chrysalis/EMI Records

I'm very sober now, The haze has dissipated and I know that I've been guided to make my choice in 'giving in' to my calling. That was easy. Placing all of the moving parts together and liking who likes me will be a bit harder seeing as I have to place myself into an undone, living puzzle.

And no, I have not chosen to evangelize...

Although I'd be very financially stable and have an army on hand to do my bidding...

The Emotional, Clingy Finger Pointing People

I was going to compose some long, drawn out diatribe on what I think the President should say/do tonight but...

I was supposed to post this yesterday, but I wanted to see the Republican debate.

I watched that shit, and I must say love him or hate him, if any of these guys end up with the Republican nomination, Obama should win the general election by a mathematically embarrassing landslide.

I noticed something about liberal-minded folks these days: These MFers are STILL celebrating the Obama victory from November of 2008. Folks in 2011 still speak like Jesse Jackson was looking election night in Grant Park but also walk around with selective memory.

I shouldn't have to get into it, but if you don't know of the damn near 300+ accomplishments of the Obama Administration but know all sorts of other sordid details about basketball wives, celebrity marriages, water cooler gossip and random sports fact, shame on your low-information having ass! Even if you don't agree with this man's politics, you should know what him and his administration has done, so to turn on one of the few mature adults in the room is beyond my understanding at this point.

Or maybe it isn't.

I get it. I really do. America was already falling further into the depths of hell which probably caused you libs to vote for Obama just to get out of the Bush Administration. Y'all wanted to make history and really thought that by electing this particular harmless negro that somehow, magically HE could make everything better by osmosis.

You mother fuckers forgot that the banks, wall street and other major players in the free markets were deregulated and let loose to run amok, and you let them take all of your money and fuck your 401k up.

You also let them tell that Muslim lie to your face a decade ago, so you mindlessly chanted USA, took your shoes off and threw away your 3oz liquid containers at the airport and let these bastids listen in on your phone calls.

You also fell for the jumbo mortgage bullshit and actually applied and was given 20 and 30 year mortgages on houses that should have sold for less than $250k and then you got laid off because demand dwindled because other fuckers got laid off too and no one could buy shit on the open market... And plus your savings went bye bye with the fall of the capital markets.

These things could not have just magically ended with Obama taking office in 2009, and they certainly did not. One man and his administration cannot dictate control over the free markets, and because of our greed, ignorance, warmongering and deregulation of many things, we're all suffering the consequences.

Add that to the emotional connection most liberal minded folk have with Obama and mix in talking points, sound bytes from cable news and unchecked, irrational overexpectations from his base and you get folk angry that the president hasn't flipped a table on the GOP, thus not giving them the emotional satisfaction they demand from a gentleman who is continuously marginalized, undervalued and underestimated by his opposition.

Its not enough that his opposition obstructs his legislative proposals at every turn. It's not enough that he isn't respected and most folk that oppose him are as racist as they are nationalist, needing his marginalization to be constant and ongoing because they just refuse to believe a dark-skinned man of African descent is the Commander-In-Chief and THEIR leader of the free world.

I'm only in my 40s, but I remember when voters were the best constituents, picking up signs, making phone calls, protesting and boycotting when they had to.

Dumping your unfettered emotions on the President is cowardice.

I hope he drops Congress like Harry Truman tonight and unveil a massive works program upwards of $700 billion, call folks out by name and dare them to say no in the same cool, calm manner that he always seems to have when he's doing his thing.

And when those job applications hit the streets (because something will get approved by Congress), I hope you get off of your critical asses and put some work in and pay your fair share.

I left my mother's house at 17 with the money I saved up from my first job at a car wash when I was 13. I joined the Army and kept moving forward. I've had setbacks and I fell (and failed) more than a handful of times, but I never blamed my failures or shortcomings on anyone else but myself.

There's a chance he won't get re-elected next year.

You'll miss his ass then. Mark my words.

Where In The World Is Hassan San Diego?

What the hell have I been doing?

Recovering, thank you for asking.

I guess I gotta fill you in, huh? Wrote a blogpost about it, like to hear it, here it go:

On Jan 8 I fell on my head. I didn't fall and hit my head, I actually fell on my head causing me to have a subdural hematoma and brain swelling. I was affected to the point of motor skill failure and vision loss. I still can't properly see. Breaking blood vessels in the back of my eyes isn't how I wanted to address my vision problem while going through the motions of having diabetic retinopathy. Such as life.

So I shed myself of Chicago and relocated to slow-moving, boring-ass Oklahoma. I wanted to rehab at the Muskogee, OK VA Hospital because traffic (in all aspects) is slower. Contrary to what a friend or two accuse me of, I am here in Oklahoma to recover from my injuries and rehab quietly. That I have done. I am not quite to the point where my medical staff will rubber stamp me MMI (maximum medical improvement), but I am very damn close. That means that I have already packed my bags and am in transition to be in transition. Again.

Now I couldn't live off of worker's comp because I depleted my savings in coming here and setting up shop, so fortunately, I fell into a job as a fleet manager for a large trucking company. Things were comfy and they accommodated my disabilities by having me work extended operations overnight (less traffic but busy all the same) until a capital management firm bought the company two months ago. I never planned on making a career there but I did see writings on the wall. Before I could jump ship, they provided me with a life boat.

I now sit in Tulsa with partially packed suitcases a mere visit away from a closed head injury specialist and a team of eye surgeons who can green light me to leave and go on with my life. It has been an odd eight months. I've counted the days... Had to. I injured myself in the same moments on the same day that Rep Gabby Giffords (D-AZ), her staff and a few constituents were shot. I remember coming out of ICU seeing the coverage hazily on TV. I've been rooting for her and the others ever since.

Your problems are nothing compared to someone elses'. Don't forget that.

I know this, so I worked my way through things to this point. I still need a lot of work done to make things right with my body, some of that will never get done, so I have to find new ways to work with what I have right now. The one thing I battle with the most is balance and living with limitations in my eyesight. I've lost 27% of my eyesight and I have adopted a few new tools to help me get around and do my thing. I am not legally blind. Yet. I am hoping that there are things that I can stick to holistically in the time that The Creator gives me on this plane that will help me stay above the sighted Mendoza Line.

It took a while for me to get here (the blog). All I want to do now is get back to as much regular as humanly possible because I still have a voice. I cannot remain quiet in these times where it seems that our youngest and brightest remain silent due to dumbfoundedness, our elders have been lavishly muted by corporate interests and the agents spout off lies and inaccuracies in the name of the forsaken just to keep the meek from inheriting the earth.

God gave me a big head because he knew by the time they got to me, there would be no life preservers left to hand out...

And so I float.

Someone special continuously tells me: Head up, heart open.

I have no choice.

Keepin' your head above water, 

               Making a wave when you can. 

Temporary lay offs. 

Good Times. 

Easy credit rip offs. 

Good Times. 

Scratchin' and surviving. 

Good Times. 

Hangin in a chow line Good Times. 

Ain't we lucky we got 'em 

Good Times.

Today, my condition. Tomorrow, pre-speech coverage and what folk want to hear.

Not Yet Free

Hey...

By the time you read this, Wesley Snipes would have been in jail for at least 24 hours on a misdemeanor conviction.






I hope you caught that.



And he's not actually charged with what you think either.




But if I hear one more brother or sister make a joke about this man without doing even a tiny bit of research (cause public trials, minutes and notes of charges and testimony is public record), I'mma smack some damn body.


A misdemeanor charge that gets you 30+ months in a federal prison. If Wesley can get got, imagine what can be done to your stankin' ass!

Imagine that...

When Your Condition Is Conditioned, Where Is Your Sense Of Duty?

I'm being kept away from blogging because of stuff I've been into.

These past few days commemorates the Tulsa Race Riots of 1921 of which I have a vested interest in. It seems that there were family and friend's family that were a part of what we call 'Black Wall Street'. I'm sure you've heard of it, and I'm sure you have heard or have studied in history the destruction and whitewashing of this and other incidents in American history. For those not in the know, let me give you a little Wiki on it:



The Tulsa race riot was a large-scale racially motivated conflict between the white and black communities of Tulsa, Oklahoma, including aerial attack, beginning May 31, 1921. During the 16 hours of the assault, over 800 people were admitted to local hospitals with injuries,more than 6000 Greenwood residents were arrested and detained in a prison camp, an estimated 10,000 were left homeless, and 35 city blocks composed of 1,256 residences were destroyed by fire caused by bombing.

The Tulsa race riot occurred in the racially and politically tense atmosphere of northeastern Oklahoma, some of which was a growing hotbed of anti-black sentiment at that time. The Ku Klux Klan made its first major appearance in Oklahoma on August 12, 1921,[1] less than three months after the riot.


As in several other states and territories during the early years of the twentieth century, lynchings were not uncommon in Oklahoma. Between the declaration of statehood on November 16, 1907, and the Tulsa race riot some thirteen years later, thirty-one individuals — twenty-six of whom were black — were lynched in Oklahoma. During the twenty years following the riot, the number of lynchings statewide fell to two.

The Greenwood section of Tulsa was home to a commercial district so prosperous it was known as "the Negro Wall Street" (now commonly referred to as "the Black Wall Street"). Ironically, the economic enclaves here and elsewhere — bounded and supported by racial separation — supported prosperity and capital formation within the community. In the surrounding areas of northeastern Oklahoma, blacks also enjoyed relative prosperity and participated in the oil boom.


Certain folk didn't like that property, so they destroyed it with little to no retaliation.

Wikipedia







Right now I'm in Tulsa, OK and I've been around town talking to folks about what kind of legacy the 1920 race riots have left us with. It's strange because not a lot of people talk about it. Now you see that I didn't say that folk either liked or didn't like to talk about it, I just stated that they aren't talking. Most folk here feel that there isn't much to talk about.

So much to the point that the newspaper that initially reported about this has absolutely NOTHING in their archives. Period.

So much that citizens either black, white or native under 40 act like they know nothing of the largest and most destructive race riot in America's history.

So much that North Tulsa still doesn't have shops, bodegas, providers of goods and services or resources in the entire area affected 70 years ago (Save for one grocery store and one bank).

So much that no one addresses the isolation and desolation that North Tulsa has.


Hey y'all, I'm from Chicago and I am not used to this shit. There isn't even an ounce or inkling of agitation due to the aftermath of what happened here this time 70 years ago. And in the heart of my research of the riots, support of my uncle, who is the city councilman for this district the past 8 years, my support and funds raised for multiple non-profits in Chicago, my mentoring and tutoring, there were questions raised about my commitment and action when I expressed outrage over the amount of gun violence Chicago suffered this past Memorial Day Weekend on facebook Monday.

I grow so tired of the finger pointers and talkers just pointing and yapping about what's going on without putting in work to ease our self-destruction. Inactivity is even more destructive than the folk, scenarios and situations set up to actually destroy.

An old chum from high school just took to the streets of the Englewood district of Chicago (South Side, shawty!) with his program and just like my brothers, sisters and I do, he walks up to the so-called gang bangers and dope dealers and addresses the concerns that some neighborhood residents have about their commitment to either the game or the advancement of our people. Brother had cameramen to document names, faces and responses. Along with looking out for these kids thru mentoring, after school activities & programs, scholarships and job training, this is how we do.

I'm hanging out in Tulsa for the summer to make sure folk my age and younger actively participate and are in the know of my uncle's platform. I just ran into one of the most dynamic young graphic artists Oklahoma has to offer and he will help us create a viable and informative web presence during this summer campaign. We're looking to facebookize and twitterfy my uncle as well, we had over 100 elders show up to a town hall meeting Unc had a couple of weeks ago and I am excited to have been invited to be a part of the team that will put the 2.0 stamp on my uncle and his platform.

I just wish others had the energy and motivation to come out of the house and actively participate. What in the hell are YOU doing to speak truth to power and following that up with duty in your responsibility to help us as humanity edge forward?

I ain't never scared. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty. The ignorant and criminal do not scare me. I come from that environment, I am not a product of it.

I now head to Chicago to be at my mother's side as she observes with the rest of us the condition of my step-dad, who had another heart attack damn near one year to the week of his last one.

Your work is never done, regardless of what condition you're in or what conditions you choose to live.




.

'Starting Over From Zero' - Hassan's Plight

I, Hassan Olumoroti Ntimbanjayo hear by say will all willfulness and with a sound mind that I am afraid to branch out (with all of the traveling I've been doing) and start from zero.

Again.

I absolutely hate the fact that i have to build things from the ground up once again in my life. I don't want the big screen TV (it's only 60Hz, I need 240Hz... You know why). I don't want the sofa. Okay, I might want the king sized Ikea Malm bedroom joints with the Tempurpedic jawn because that som'bitch feels guuuuud.

I will need my personal effects and other stuff, but other than that I think I'm good. I can afford new trinkets (and even more after the Six Sigma cert), but its time to be a lil' more basic and enjoy more open space. It's time to build a home once again. The house of cards I've lived in the past couple of years is waterlogged at least. I refuse to step in a weak point in the floor and fall halfway through only to get stuck and have the cards dry with me in it.

What in the hell is he talking about?

Very, very soon I will select a new city that i will call home. It will have to be a place where culture rules and personal politics amongst my friends will be at a minimum. It will also have to have rich soil and access to an international airport. The ability to connect with Corporate America is a must have and I need some space to roam, possible on a lawn tractor if I wanna.

Snow during winter months is not an option.

I will need to be able to ride this place out until the adventure calls for more space (sandboxes and swings) or I decide to retire and can get lost in the urban shuffle. And last but certainly not least, I need to be someplace my so-called family doesn't want to travel to for any reason.

I'm still scared though.

Some of y'all scare me... With intent.

I strategige in these moments... In the middle of the night, wondering who will have my stankin' ass after all of my errs, misdeeds and miscalculations.

Starting over from zero is hard. Don't ask me why I'm doing this either. I hear re-invention is a good thing. For some. Lord I hope and pray one of those folk is me.

An Ode To A Lollipop

You would have thought by now that I would have said something...

Nah...



To be honest, there isn't anything that damn interesting going on right now to actually speak on. To be perfectly honest, right now my health is the most important thing for me, and to be completely honest I'm failing in that department. But don't worry, the Creator has a master plan, so I'm fine.

I do find it peculiar that the same folks that defended Dear Leader are the ones tearing him down right now. As a former member of the intelligence community, I totally overstand what has been done, why and why it is to be this way. Shame, the same folk that needed a long form birth certificate were dancing in the streets after a death announcement, just like their so-called enemy.

I also have complete and utter doubt in supporters of our Dear Leader. The time for gossip, rumors and innuendo are over. I am ashamed to even have affiliation with those that live on hearsay when we live in the 24 hour news cycle as well as having access to bloggers, You Tubers and the like as close as their always-on cell phones to get real and pertinent info... They doubt the individual and blindly follow the news agencies.

Sheeple. That's what they are.

I've even seen a fake-ass Martin Luther King quote go round the email, Facebook and even the Blogger circuit. Everybody seems to be an expert because they have a Twitter account. It's funny, those closest to me never even asked my opinion, AND I WAS OVER THERE!!! I conducted background investigations and processed info to have DoD grant security clearances to those worthy of our nation's trust. That's all I can say. Those in my circle know that I've seen shit. On purpose. They don't have to know what and I'll never say, but do know this: Most of the stuff y'all think you know you never will.

And that info still ain't going to help you get a better job.
It has nothing to do with oil speculation overcharging by OPEC for fossil fuel
You've been so distracted that prices for processed foods are equal or exceed that of organic
Foreclosures are still happening because the rent is TOO DAMN HIGH!

These happenings aren't meant to be distractions. The current administration has a job to do. Don't let the rumors of rumors keep your attention away from what's really going on. Or birth certificates. Or who demands them. I feel like one of the few out there actually focusing on what really matters. I should feel shame and disgust for those that waste their time on non-essential things. I'll just wait until my people have that 'aha' moment and realize while they were in a daze where their time, effort, emotions and money went.

Your kids need you.
Your mama is calling.
Your health, wealth and knowledge of self is wavering.

And your ass is worried about long form birth certificates and the status of a dead man.



Suckers.

Sorry about my infrequent posts.

I look okay, but I haven't been well. I've been dealing with the reality Post Concussion Syndrome throws at you. I have a healthy respect for head injuries and brain damage these days. I thought it would go away. I thought I would be ready to get back into the swing of things, but no.

I ain't ready.

Most of my days are hazy, where time slips away and I forget both big and little things. The headaches are still there as well as the eye pain due to sensitivity to light. I've cried myself to sleep damn near every night. The vision is still blurry and double... Like someone superimposed the world over itself and moved the one in the rear over to the left. I've had a few seizures. I spend most of the day hiding from the sunlight. I'm depressed. I want to do better, so I've hopped in my car (not recommended by the doctors for obvious reasons) and I try to get my driving skills back to standard. I have to. I've figured out that riding with folks is a serious no-no for me. I'd rather push hard to stay between the white lines to drag myself places rather than hearing people talking shit. Noise sets me off. The phone always rings, and that shit makes my ass hairs twitch.


No reason to complain though. I'll post something crazy on either Twitter of Facebook to distract me from the bullshit ways I feel most times. The neurologist and neurosurgeon cannot touch my neck or back, I haven't been treated for that yet. My endocrinologist called me to remind me that my kidneys still need tending to. To say that I'm in a bad spot is an understatement. I figure that one day while out experimenting with my new style of driving (one eye, head cocked to the side, anti-glare glasses over my prescripts) maybe a fellow trucker will do me the honor of plowing into my ass and putting me out of my misery.

Don't feel sorry for me either. Just try not to fall and suffer a closed head injury.

The only thing that burns my ass about my current situation is that I made the critical mistake to extend myself and depend on one person to assist and that person left me high and dry and talked shit to my face to boot.

The crazy thing is... Folks I know demand things of me that I haven't even given thought to. From love to finance, even helping someone pack and move... I want to get well, I want to be able to do regular shit but... I don't get the chance to heal. People see or talk to me and think that I'm good enough to give into whatever the hell they want and can't understand that I'm failing inside literally and figuratively right now. I deal with so much selfishness and bullshit to the point where I hope that I never heal.

So I got people that wish me well to my face actually harboring anger in my direction because they don't get what they want out of me, whatever that is. I do have a plan though.

I made the mistake of checking out of the hospital without addressing my organ failure. Yeah, the rest of my body just can't be ignored. I plan on heading back south and checking myself into a rehab facility so I can get my shit together.



A mind is indeed a terrible thing to waste... Try to keep yours.



.

Steele Here?

This is even funnier:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Michael Steele Pt. 1
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog</a> The Daily Show on  Facebook See what you'll be missing in the future RNC? Someone who gets it and isn't afraid to go where needed to win hearts, minds and votes, even in the face or ridicule. You can never have either my ear or my vote. Don't worry though... I hate Democrats too. .

Former Puppet Michael Steele

I like Michael Steele. He says funny things.

He puts his foot in his mouth towing the party line, only because he loves the principles. He lives by them. He is a genuine conservative. Its just during the past two years as party chairman, no one in has ever taken him seriously.

Shame. He said some things for the sake of the party that had him ridiculed, ostracized and outcast. Looks like he'll get the last laugh though.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Michael Steele Pt. 2
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog</a> The Daily Show on Facebook

This guy is funny!

January - How I Spent The First Thirty One Days Of 2011

Damn, has it been a month since I've put anything here? Funny how time passes. The operative word here is HOW, not funny.

I had no plans on this being my first post of 2011, in fact I felt I had a lot to contribute. A month ago during the last days of 2010, progressive minded folk were reveling in the triumphs of the so-called 'lame duck' session of congress for getting a bunch of bills passed due to having strength in numbers partywise. Most of us common folk were flat out exhausted and was just glad that we made it to the end of another year. Some counted our money (or the little that we had), while others counted our blessings. Me, I just kept it moving, not knowing that a greater deal of change was waiting for me in  the first thirty one days of 2011 that I could ever expect.

On Saturday morning January 8, I slipped and fell, landing (more like crashing) squarely on the back of my head. I remember the fall in as vivid a detail as I can, this memory to stain my mental rolodex to be played over more than other hurtful memories, death or other tragic moment I had been a part of, and there had been a few of those moments randomly rambling around in my 40 year of mind.

I remember the fall, I heard the crashing noise of bone and gristle coming together violently from the back of my head and neck and I remember the pain as well as the incredible flash of light that I saw as I hit the floor. Somehow, two hundred and forty-six pounds upended itself and landed on its smallest point, its most delicate spot and I was in a heap of trouble.

Not only did I black out and lose time, I didn't bleed. I would have been better off if like Bernic Mac used to say I would have 'busted my head open to the white meat' but alas, I did not meaning that all of the damage I was to suffer would be internal. The latter is always worse than the former.

I was taken by ambulance to a great hospital and it took more than a week or so in ICU to get me to the point where I would be released into assisted care. I had suffered a subdural hematoma as a result in my fall causing my motor skills, eyesight, equilibrium, sensitivity to light to be limited and for me to have serious, severe headaches. Even my walking has been compromised. As I sit and compose this right now I am in the dark, holding my head about 4 inches from my computer screen with my right eye and speaking into the mic, utilizing dictation software I bought myself some time ago to help with my writing when I wanted to be lazy. I hadn't used it much in the past, but it has been a Godsend for me now, Facebook, Twitter and such.

Every day since my hospital release, I've been trying all kinds of rehab techniques to get back to normal. I have a neurologist and neurosurgeon that I work closely with as well as rehab techs that are helping me get back as close to normal as possible. I have assistance at home, have access to the passenger seat of my car and have a want for nothing at this moment. With time and continued care, I should be close to the way I was physically and mentally. I wanted folks to know this because one of the things I didn't do in that last week of 2010 was take stock of what I had in blessings and people outside of the sacred circle who care.

For the most part, I know that this is workplace fodder. I am cubicle entertainment for most on most days.

I positioned myself as a man alone late last year because I knew of my health decline due to Chronic kidney Disease and Diabetes a early as late summer. There were folks around me at that time that said that the loved and cared for me but spent more time questioning themselves and their purpose, and that made me suspicious and nervous. I spent most of 2010 in some kind of weird, bad teaching mode, giving more of myself when I should have opened myself to receiving in order to heal. Earlier last year, I closed myself in and had given a lot of my space to try to maintain balance inside of a negative equity position spiritually just to be around some folk.

Bad idea.

Sometimes, you surround yourself with an odd band of yes people, folks that will say or do anything to have a piece of what you have but don't yet know how to do anything in offering even a bit of equitable return. Some folk are still on their path of finding who they want to be and it's damn imperative that A-alikes be alike. I cleaned house and distanced myself from folk that needed me to do for them when I most times I spiritually couldn't even do for myself.

As I did this, it was easier for me turn to the folks that have been by my side in the past couple of weeks. It has been quiet, drama free and I have been able to heal and rehab without distraction. It hurts a little because some people really mean well, but...

I never gave thought to head injuries and the results of actually folks that suffering through this agonizing process, in fact, I had not respect for them.I could have died from this event, but I came out with a few scars, and now the influence of the folk I chose to keep in my inner circle will pay off in their assistance in helping me heal.

How have you spent your first thirty one days in this new year?

Have A LadyLee New Year!!!

I thought I had the capacity to blog with regularity, and then...

I didn't.




Same stuff, too much to do and not enough time. I thought I would type something here, not because it's the last day of the year, it's just that I wanted to express something. I still don't know what that something is. Yet.

Looking back at the past 12 months, I can say that for the most part I put my head down and worked on relocating by building up some moolah, which I did. That's it. Nothing else of major interest has come up. The fact that I got sick and shortened my lifespan wasn't really that major. It's just a reflection of poor habits.

I go off and on with my vegetarianism, and I like alcohol. Lots of it. So I get what I deserve. No problem with that.

I do want to give a special X-Clan type, vaaaaaanglorious shout out to someone that cared and looked out for me this year. From check-ins, keeping me in prayer to actually sending me herbs, I want to thank my BlogSister The Original Oldgirl LadyLee for just being you.

THANK YOU!!! I LOVE YOU SIS!!!

I know that you constantly keep me in prayer and give a damn about my health and well being. You have gone above and beyond the call of duty for lil ol' me, and I have no words on how that makes me feel going through my transition.

I have no clue what the new year brings... I have no clue what condition I'll be in and where I'll convalesce... I do know that the bayou is what I like as far as my surroundings and this is a great place to rest, recover and live as well. There are of course more folk than just Lee in my life that care and are helping me heal, I just wanted to single out the Oldgirl for just doing what she do.

I'm just thankful that I got people, few as they are...

Other than that, there's a local radio personality that said something the other day about entering the new year:

Spend the first six months of the new year minding your own business, the other six months staying out of others...

Nuff said.

When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong

I got a phone call from my older brother yesterday. Out. Of. The. Blue. Didn't even know he had my number. Neither did he.

I haven't spoken to this cat since June.

We talk about general stuff for the first five minutes and then he tells me that Mother is going senile. Haven't spoken to her since July. It was her birthday yesterday. He wondered if I called. I didn't.

After further conversation, big brother revealed that folks were hoping that I would revert back to the old me, dissociated from the perverted world that had me claiming myself as a non-christian and come to my senses and celebrate and rejoice in the upcoming birth of our lord and savior.

Barack Obama?

He laughed and then joked that little brother asked him to call. We haven't spoken since the 4th of July.

Notice a pattern here?

And then he joked: "What the fuck is wrong is you? You need a kidney or something?"

I then asked him to go to the VA hospital and identify himself as next of kin and to request the test to see if he could be a donor match.

*crickets*

He then threw another joke at me about coming up with $250,000 to make that happen.

The conversation then went askew towards other things. He wanted to know how I was dealing with life in general. He asked me about my quality of life. I answered honestly, wished him a happy belated 40-something like a birthday (something I never do) and then told him that it hurts every damn day to be me.

We then set up an appointment for him to get over to the VA and get tested.

This mutha fucker has never done anything for me. EVAR. Even though we might not be a match, I was brought to vaklemptness for big brothaman to at least come in and give it a shot.

Humbled, shocked and thrown for a loop. 

He had to swear to not tell anyone else in my family in order to set the appointment next week. We ended the call with me saluting him for just having the nerve and him telling me that he wouldn't try to hit me up for a quarter mil.

He said he could get down for about ten thousand.

Festivus... For The Rest Of Us

 "Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated... For now."

This is my airing of grievances, according to the guidelines of Festivus.



Look that up. My brother hipped me onto it during Sienfeld's run. The simplicity and odd-ball-ness had me intrigued after watching the Festivus episode. It's not that I never paid attention to Sienfeld before the finale (and subsequent reruns), it's just that I am probably the only Spiritually Grounded Atheist/Agnostic Sci-Fi Supporting Skeptic you'll ever know. Festivus gives me something to play ritual to, just like everyone else.

Odd that I have no other grievances to air, especially in this politically charged economic downturn of a climate.

Where in the hell have I been? Working. Plotting. Managing my time.

A couple of months ago, I found out that I need extensive work done under the hood, but because I'm not an automobile, some of that basic routine stuff that needs to be done will cause me to slow to a stop earlier than most. So I decided to manage my time a bit better and that meant limited blogging, working longer hours during the warmer months so I could have the opportunity to do a few things before I'm physically unable to do that stuff during the cooler ones.

And plus, I don't have that much to say these days. It is kind of cool to watch how things play out.

I think I want to use blogging at this point as more of a journaling tool as to what happens to me. I know, I know it seems like I'm talking in code but come back more often. I promise I will be more direct. I think I need y'all to see how things play out for me. I've always wanted to explore the concept of ars moriendi from a distance but...

I pray for the right amount of time, healing and understanding of my method of madness to take place so I can get a chance to do a lot of the stuff I promised myself and others that I'd do.

So I'm switching up the blog a bit. More observational stuff as it pertains to life processes and less ranting and complaining about stuff that doesn't reach so far down the rabbit hole to affect me.

I do promise to keep this place very disjointed and kind of weird in the upcoming days/weeks/months. Until then, there are always things like Festivus that I can get into and actively participate with limited energy. I still respect your faith, traditions and all that you do in this shared festival season, but...

I gotta erect my Festivus Pole!




Tomorrow: The Feats Of Strength!!!

Oh, Maker

I hear the drizzle of the rain

It's falling from my window

And in the corners of my mind

I hope that I'll get to see you again.

La da die da die da die da die my friend 

I heard the colors in the flowers

Just like the candle snugged at dawn

You're here, you're near, you're there and then you're gone

La da die da die da die da die 

Suffering in sinking sand 

All the hurt

See I'm really lost baby 

We suffered a rare, rare blue

So much hurt

On this earth 

But you loved me

And I really dared to love you too

Perhaps what I mean to say is 

Is that it's amazing that your love was mine 

Oh, Maker tell me did you know 

This love would burn so yellow 

Becoming orange and in its time 

Explode from grey to black then bloody wine

La da die da die da die da die 

Oh, Maker have you ever loved? 

Or known just what it was? 

I can't imagine the bitter end 

Of all the beauty that we're living in? 

Suffering in sinking sand 

All the hurt See I'm really lost baby 

We suffered a rare, rare blue 

So much hurt 

On this earth But you loved me 

And I really dared to love you too 

Perhaps what I mean to say is

Is that it's amazing that your love was miine

Lost inside a lonely world

where lovers pay the price.

Barely get the sound of music

to love and go dance to.

Now, it's time for us to go

and no one ever has to know

your love was in my pocket

and your eyes, eyes are in my, my soul....

No one will know it but me...

- J. Robinson

Gone

You get lost in other people's misery and confusion...
You find a way out. Even when they hold you down in it.

You just grab some of your shit, get up and go.

This is the point when you're at your lowest.
It ends up being the best time to start over, but our training
gives us that blanket of fear that prevents us from ever
applying for a passport.

If you don't break out now, you'll never know.
You'll end up the pushover victim of every one's unrealistic
expectations of you.

They'll even make you think that something is wrong with you...
Just to get from you what they want.

And that is some sick, lonely shit.

And selfish.
And uncaring.

So just go.



They won't really miss you because they never really wanted the you that you know.

It's only you.
But you love you...


Right?

Then its nothing for you to love yourself enough
To get the fuck up and just get into the wind.
Let it blow you away.




Go.

Get lost in yourself.
Eventually you will figure it out

That the misery and suffering had been brought on by you refusing to go.

2010 HassanOlumorotiNtimbanjayo