Christians: RED ALERT

Yeah, if you're a Christian, this is a good time for you to stand up and make a collaborative effort against something worth attacking. There's a video on youtube that ruined my morning: it's some juvenile and juvenile minded people claiming blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, which you and I know is an unforgivable sin. BUT, of course, people are jumping on the bandwagon. Not cool.

I hit the page up immediately and dropped a response to it. I encourage anybody who reads this to do the same. Tell your kids to stay away from it. Alert other parents. This is one situation we really need to take heed to just because of the nature of it; again, blasphemy against the Holy Ghost is an unforgivable sin.

The name of the page is The Blasphemy Challenge, and here's my response to it (had to chop it in three pieces). For anybody that likes to talk about Jesus all the time, this is a perfect opportunity to direct it somewhere where it's desperately needed. Don't miss this.

Blasphemy Challenge Link

Battlecataclysmic (4 minutes ago)

I'm not going to debate religion with you people, because creating this abomination shows that you've already closed your minds to logical debate. But I find it amazing that you're willing to expend so much time and energy denying something that you don't believe to exist... if it truly didn't exist, it seems like all this effort wouldn't be called for.

Battlecataclysmic (3 minutes ago)

To anyone who happens by this page and considers supporting the effort, why don't you be a rebel for a real cause and stop bandwagoning on foolishness to look cool. You're so gullible it's not even funny. I get sick of people trying anything to make themselves stand out in a crowd. It's childish, and one day you're going to grow up and discover not only that the Holy Spirit is real, but that blasphemy against it is the one unforgivable sin: Matthew 12:31; Luke 12:10; Mark 3:29.

Battlecataclysmic (2 minutes ago)

The majority of you coming to this page didn't even know what blasphemy was until you got here; don't you think it's a bit early for you to talk commitments? Do yourself a favor: grow up, get some self-esteem, and don't let these fools reel you into their fates. Because when it's said and done, they don't care what happens to you. If they don't serve God, who DO they serve? Themselves. And self-centered, self-gratifying people give less than a f#ck about what happens to you.

Let's make it happen peeps; don't talk about the effort every day only to abandon it when the words are most necessary.

Happy Hunting B-J

You Can Do It All By Yourself...

...Ha, made you look. You a slave to a page off my Facebook.

Real talk, stop and think about sumn right quick: since when could you NOT dance all by yourself? I'm sorry, dat's some preschool sh!t. Yah cats spend ya'll's bottom dollar on ANYTHING, cross my achy breaky heart.

I'm listening to one of the most dopest, most fiya-hot beats ever made... get raped. I lost count of the infinite number of tracks just like it: a great producer (or a sorry producer biting some good, old school music--- btw, "sampling" and "biting" are not the same; later date---) and a rapper/singer with a dope style and the weakest lyrics ever illiterated. Yes, I just made that word up... I did it all by myself.

Okay, it was one thing when I was in school and nobody was trying to elevate; I thought it was just a phase and when these fools grew up, they'd grow out of it. Hell no. They didn't grow up, they just dropped the standard... down low, down low, down low, down low. (Down low...? Are these fools gay? It's alright, you can tell me...)


Ludacris won the Grammy the other day... over Lupe Fiasco. Don't get me wrong, I actually dig Luda's style and delivery; he's a capable MC. But I take it Grammys aren't handed out for the best lyrical content or the most creativity or album consistency and longevity. Maybe it's just record sales, huh? In that case then, I'm not gonna get mad at Luda; I'm gonna get pissed with you for neglecting to show love to one of the greatest lyricists of our time in Lupe.

Ohhhhh, you probably don't know how dope a lyricist Lupe is... cuz you probably, don't e'em much understand the sh!t he says; it goes over ya head. What are you in school for again? Ahhhh... to get paid better, that's right. Why don't you pick up an education along the way...

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know some of you just listen to music because "the beat sounds good" and "I don't wanna hafta think about it" and "I like to dance" and "it's just entertainment". But I promise, you same cats talk about how great Malcolm and Martin and W.E.B. and Booker T. and Rosa and Maya and all these Black heroes are. How do you think THEY'D feel about what we've been reduced to? When our entertainment is to watch these entertainment industry "products" (I'm sorry, these cats don't qualify as "artists" cuz there's no art to what they do but marketing and promotion; f#ck talent...) make light of the death, depravity, promiscuity, drugs, and all the other sh!t that our heroes fought to keep all of us out of. Ya lookin' straight TWO-FACED to me in this piece.

But who am I, right? Who am I to bust shots at this culture we're livin' in? Like I'm not still bumpin' this track myself because the beat's so ill. lol... Nigga please, don't worry bout me...

I can do it all by myself too B-J

I, The Dreamer

"I have a dream..."

Me, too. I, too, have a dream. I have many dreams. And my dreams, they've been to the brink of death... many times. I've been at their bedsides as they lay in critical condition. But I've learned that, as long as I live, my dreams can never die. I've made up in my mind that I will fight for my dreams, no matter what they cost me.

Still...

When Martin Luther King Jr. gave his speech all those years ago, there was one word he said that was so significant. In the grand scheme this word is a dot; at this moment, from where I stand, it's much more than that. It was the very first word of his speech: "I".

"I" simply means this: the dream of Dr. King was a dream held by one person. See, as I exchanged ideas with my peeps today, I realized something terrible. I realized that my dream... was my dream. And maybe, just maybe, it's my dream only. I've spent so much of my life trying to answer the cries of the oppressed, confused, mis-educated masses, but in recent years, it seems that the cries have quieted. In place of the cries, coos of complacency; and the people, they seem to have simply grown accustomed to their situations.

I have a dream... but I can't force the dream on anyone who doesn't wish to dream with me. Every day I set foot on campus, I can feel it; nobody gives a damn about much of anything. As long as they get their needs--- mostly their unneeded wants--- met. I'm in this world and absorbed in everything and everyone around me; they're in this world, but they're closed up in their own worlds at the same time.

What if truth... What if understanding... What if elevation... What if these are things meant to be enjoyed only by those who own them? Am I overstepping my boundaries in attempting to rob the ignorant of their bliss? If they don't ask, then who am I to answer?...

I have a dream. No: I have a reality. And everyone around me lies fast asleep. One day, everyone is going to awaken; I fear many have already awakened but, in their dazes, have chosen to hit the snooze button and hold on to their bliss. And I can't dictate the course of another person's life. All I can do is live in the reality I know; the reality that, eventually, will force people to recognize that they are truly asleep.

Dream On... B-J

Studio Session

I feel like I need to sleep in here tonight if ya'll don't mind. The vibe is real cool right now. It's been a tough week, so the relief is much-needed.

...Screw the formalities.


Wrapping my arms around you, wrapping my mind around it/
You got my heart surrounded, it's yours because you found it/
Hotter than Venezuela, find me at your equator/
I'll take you now or later, I'm your personal waiter/
Pardon my progress lady, not hear to violate you/
Unless you like to play too, think this is hot then stay tuned.../


(Change channels)


You are my distant future, my faraway loverfriend/
They speak illness against us, but it comes out the other end/
We just bounce back together like the Smiths, like how rubber bends/
She's meant to be a treat for only me, so I rub her in/
At least I would if I could, but I can't so I'm lost/
She's falls like snow on my heart, but I'm dying in frost.../


(Change channels)


I don't wanna hear it, keep the drama to ya own/
I never miss humanity whenever I'm alone/
Should lock me down forever and replace me wit a clone/
I'd spend eternity in meditation tryna hone/
My angle on the truth of this life of Decepticons/
Where worthy apparitions are the ones most slept upon/
I'm a ghost at his post inhabiting other dimensions/
Died by boa constriction from my own conviction's tension/


(Change channels)


GET KRUNK, GET KRUNK, GET KRUNK, WHAT!!
ALL THESE WOMEN LOOK GOOD WHEN I'M DRUNK, WHAT!!!


(Change channels)


Samurai, I, the end is nigh, so many high/
Up in the sky, I see the pie has been devoured, none for I/
Never my, like communism, I for I like Hammurabi/
You say rappers keep it real, but they just rhymin for a hobby/
Kimosabe, what's the nature of this hatred I profess/
Doesn't matter, long as when I'm done with you I leave no mess/
Jesus bless, why the best necess to just settle for less/
On the block we're checker-jumped, the majors pawn our lives for chess/


(Turn off)


Prolly lost some people there. That's okay. Low standards'll do that to ya. I'll double back.

B-J

The Worth of Beauty to THIS Man...

"Beauty is superficial." "Beauty is overrated." "Beauty is only skin-deep." "Beauty is vain."



(yawn...) I'm sorry, did you say something? There's nothing I hate more than somebody telling me something I already know...

Look, I'm a really good guy, if I do say so myself: beauty is not the most important thing when I look for a love interest. But I'd be a bold-faced lie if I said beauty didn't factor in. And no--- this time I AM talking about that surface beauty that we don't like to acknowledge as meaning anything.

It's funny that when we talk about beauty--- and let me be clear here, I'm talking about the beauty of WOMEN--- we always talk about what the beauty does for the woman. In other words, we always talk about beauty's role in netting a man; even when we include the fact that beauty won't KEEP him, we do acknowledge it will get his attention. But the thing we never talk about is what a woman's beauty does for the MAN. In other words, what is it about beauty that makes a difference to a man in the first place? After all, it's just a visual thing, right?...

I can't speak for all men, because if you know me, you know that I'm an odd cat. Most of the time my perspectives truly are MY perspectives. Well, here's my perspective on the worth of beauty to THIS man; I would say to men in general, but I simply can't.

Ladies, if I break this to you any other way, you'd probably take offense . So I'm gonna hit you with a true story or two:

I was at school the other day. Had a bad week. Crazy stress. I'm taking 5 upper level sociology classes, had my computer crash, eye irritation, car trouble, you name it. So I'm sitting in the computer lab at school, doing what I'm doing right now. And a beautiful girl walks by me. She doesn't say anything to me; I don't say anything to her. We do make eye contact though, and she smiles at me. Beautiful smile, beautiful eyes; couldn't help but smile back at her, ya know?...

'Very next day, I had a class, complete with a matching midterm. Saw the test and blanked out: I didn't feel like studying hard the night before, so I didn't. But I knew that I knew the answers because its an easy class and I paid attention. In walks the baddest girl in the class. She prolly didn't even notice me, but I definitely noticed her. And it was like magic; from that point, the answers came back to me, and I got to leave class early that day.

Now I'll give you the play-by-play. See, beauty is superficial; simultaneously, beauty does something to me. The very sight of something or someone beautiful soothes me. You know how people go into the beauty of nature, the woods after a rain or by the waterside or to a sunset, to relax and gather themselves? It's the same thing here; a woman's beauty calms me down inexplicably. I'm a person who enjoys beauty, period. And if you're a beautiful woman, it's no different.

I wrote a poem called "Apple Blossom" about a beautiful woman I saw. It was easy because both she and the blossom are things of similar beauty. And as I admired this woman and wrote, I was at peace, ya know? It's not like I'm marrying this lady; she's like 41/42 and on the West Coast somewhere. But even a picture from a thousand miles away and years in the past affects me every time I see it. There is substance and worth to beauty.

You may call me superficial, but what did I say? I merely said that beauty soothes me: vibrant eyes soothe me; graceful hair soothes me; dainty fingers soothe me; a shapely body soothes me; a inviting voice soothes me elegant (and eloquent) lips soothe me. I DID NOT SAY BEAUTY IS THE SOLE, OR EVEN A PRIMARY METHOD BY WHICH I JUDGE A WOMAN'S WORTH.

It reminds me of a friend of mine. When we first met, she told me that she was really into the smooth cocoa brothas. In case you've never seen me, I don't exactly fit that description; I'm more the light-brown/burned-red complexion (if I get angry, my skin lights a shade of red, lol) with a fairly arid texture. But then one day she told me that she wouldn't mind being with me at all if it were possible [it's a distance thing :-( ]. It left me confused, because I didn't fit her "preference". But then I realized she was just like me: a preference is just a preference, but not a cause for exclusion. She respected what she regarded as "most beautiful", but she also realized beauty had its place. (funny thing is... she's a friggin ex-model, Black and Dominican. Go figure, lol)

I mean c'mon... For me to require and demand that a woman be outstandingly beautiful by law, I'd have to be the pinnacle of manhood myself, wouldn't I? And don't get me wrong, I like myself... a lot. But my bet is that I'm not THAT guy; I'm THIS guy that I am, and that's all I am. Not to mention, beauty doesn't always last; yeah, a woman may be everything right now, but if she lives long enough, things change. (Although, I do know some foxy old ladies; yeah, I know some old ladies badder than YOU playgirl, lol...)

The bottom line is, don't overdo it and say that beauty has no place in order to be politically correct or to not offend somebody; beauty DOES have its place. For me, beauty is an anesthesia; it helps me forget my troubles and remember the genius and artistry of God, ya know? And yeah, I would love to end up with someone who could give me that sensation every time I see her, no doubt, no hesitation. But in love, that's not my priority. See, I could go blind tomorrow, and after all, beauty is a thing of grace, not even promised to those who have it.

'Great thing about being single tho: I can look at any beautiful woman I want to, and nobody can get pissed about it, lol.

And now you know my REAL motivation for going to school... B-J

Aww, It Ain't REALLY Broke...

...so I'm not fixin' it!

You ever have something that you know was broken, but you just got attached to it so you never actually fix it? I know for a lot of you you're thinking in terms of broken relationships; that's not exactly what I'm referring to... but it qualifies.

Anyway, I have this strange attachment to broken things. It's like, when something gets broken, it develops a unique personality to me; its brokenness gives it a distinction that nothing else of its type can obtain.

I had a computer that I got in 2000. It was an eMachines computer running on Windows ME. It was hit by so many viruses that I lost track; the DVD-ROM drive, which didn't even have a burner, stopped operating YEARS ago. New programs came and went and it didn't take long for my comp to find itself outdated. But I never went out and fixed it up; I got attached to it just as it was. I used to talk at it and push it along and pray that it wouldn't crash on me. And for 7 years it didn't; that's miraculous because nowadays even the most advanced computers don't last more than 3 years.

(Rest in peace my friend.)

I grew up on broken video game controllers, and because of that I can now juice anybody with ease; the handicap ended up giving me the advantage. Even now, my controller has a loose piece rattling around inside it, two broken trigger-buttons. But when I'm desperate, two quick shakes and a good smack and I'm plastering everything on the screen, lol

I have a broken dresser drawer; I just use it to hold my keyboard or my drum machine or whatever it can fit. I never believed in functional fixedness, and the drawer just helped me reinforce the belief.

I wear some rusty sneakers from about 5-6 years ago; they don't have any holes, just cuts and scrapes, so they fulfill their function. Why waste the cheese? It's called resourcefulness; styles come and go, but a shoe is a shoe.

It's cool when people come to my house, maybe visiting or something, and they try to use my stuff. I've become so adjusted to my broken empire than it becomes second nature for me to operate everything... but no one else can do it, lol. It reminds me of that drawer on Sanford and Son that wouldn't open unless Fred or Lamont hit it just right; everything around me has that "just right" property.

Brokenness is in the mind of the operator, I guess. Either adjust or upgrade. But upgrading costs waaaay too much, and I'm a thrifty young man, lol...

We'll Save Broken Relationships for Another Episode... B-J

Never Forget You...

Those words are the most painful I've ever said, because it's true: I will NEVER forget about you. Some people in life, you don't see them for a while, and you forget them. I can't forget you; I don't want to forget you, and I can't imagine what it would be like not having you in mind.

You don't know what it's like Miss. The best way I can explain it... you know how you can think of someone and it makes you smile? You make me smile like that. But that's not all; see, whenever I smile about anything, the smile takes me right back to you. Because you're the one that brought a smile back to my face; you came at just the right time and opened me back up when I had closed myself off to the world.

You weren't even saved yet when you met me, lol. But, you were still my angel. All those times when I was helping you along... you didn't realize that being in your presence lifted me! Remember how I would pull something off, like do well in a class or something, and I thought nothing of it? But I remember you would always say, "Awww, git it!" and make a big deal about it. And when I think about that, I can't control it; I break out in the biggest grin. I wish I had told you how much that meant to me. You just don't know...

About a year after we parted ways, I saw this music video. Some girls were singing this song--- it went, "If I can't have you, I'll just be single for the rest of my life..." How ironic. Anyway, the video was on a college campus, and the lead singer was doing this little bounce-step, with her knees bent, ya know? And all I could think about was how she jacked that bounce off you, lol. And I remember "Fatty Girl" came out that year too, and I used to laugh because you were the self-proclaimed postergirl for it, lol. I MISS THAT!!! In my memories, all I can ever remember you doing is throwing sunshine at me. But I was so stiffnecked, I only chuckled as I watched you go. I shoulda joined in when I had the chance.

Through it all, I am glad for two things. I'm glad I got to share my faith with you; the day you told me you got saved was definitely one of the happiest days of my life. I bet you're even spiritually stronger than me now (I'm strugglin' right now Miss, but you know me: no worries, lol...). I take comfort knowing that, if we don't see each other again on this side, we'll definitely catch up on the other side.

Secondly, I'm glad that I was able to tell you how proud I am of you. I don't know why, but the other day that memory came back to me--- that day we were kickin' it, and I just told you out the blue, "I'm really proud of you". I really admire you; you're on a pedestal in my mind. As sweet and playful and thoughtful and ladylike (and cute, lol) as you are, you're also diligent and ambitious and determined and strong. I swell up with pride at the thought of all you had accomplished before we even met. I pray that you continue to prosper, and know that I'm STILL proud of you. 'Matter of fact, on credit, I'm more proud of you now than I was back then.

It hurts that I remember you when I can't see you anymore, but you're the sweetest memory I have; I'd rather it be this way than to ever forget such a special person. I would say more, but "thou shalt not covet" and all...

You'll probably never see this, but if you do--- and you know who you are--- please don't forget me.

"Aww, Git It!" B-J

I Win. Next...

"Like a matador, I see the bull coming..."
-from a verse written in 1999-2000

Heh... It's seven years later, and no sooner than I announce I'm ready to make a move, the enemy swarms in. Crashes my computer, jacks me for my Afro pick, puts this painful red dot on my right eye. But that just made me see red...

When it was all said and done, I was sitting in a fresh studio with space to seat 8; fresh computer with all my data backed up so I never missed a step. I even found my missing Afro pick on a whim. You might rough me up, but wit a God this big you can't take me out...

I'm not a fighter because I want to be a fighter; I'm a fighter because I was born at war. I was under attack before I even knew I had enemies. But once I knew about this battlefield called life, I took on the philosophy of Rico Wade: "We sit back and watch FOR the bullsh!t, cuz you know it's coming... you KNOW it's coming..."

I'm probably using the term incorrectly, but it's correct for my purposes, and that's what matters: I'm a conflict theorist. The fact is, most of the time, life is going to offer you some sort of conflict; you might as well bank on it. A conflict doesn't hafta be physical: it can be emotional, psychological, spiritual, philosophical, internal, external, socio-economical... no matter who you are, what age you are, you're gonna know somethin' about conflict by the time you leave this Earth.

I find that, when I relax in one conflict, I can expect a new one to arise at any moment; I never feel "safe". Don't get me wrong, there are often times when everything is "cool". The thing is, even when it's "cool", conflict is so unpredictable... Put it like this: it doesn't matter when trouble comes, only that you be prepared when it arrives. For me, putting your dukes down is like inviting the haymaker; whether you get it immediately or later on, the fact is you get it. So I stay on my guard at nearly all times. Cuz haymakers suck.

At the same time, you can't keep your dukes up forever; sometimes the best defense is a good offense. Take the last two weeks for instance; in the last two weeks I've had enough happen to me to last me... period. But for every problem that rose against me, I invested time in shutting it down as quickly as possible. Best example: my computer crashed on me. Not only did it crash on me, but it crashed on me after an unprecedented 7 years of operation. When did it crash? Not on a regular day: on the very day I decided to get my studio fully functional for the first time ever.

When it happened, you know what I said to myself? "'Figures." Did I panic? Nope... You see, a year ago, I invested in an external hard drive. 'Cuz I knew it was coming, feel me? 'Matter of fact, I backed all my information up for the umpteenth just last week. 'Cuz I knew it was coming, feel me? So, when she crashed on me, I just picked up the pieces. 'Came home with a new computer the very next day. Transferred all the info and reinstalled all the programs. Got back online. Found myself in a better circumstance than I had been before. I still got this splinter in my eye, but I owed the enemy a wink-wink anyway...

I've thought this to myself so many times: "all I ever tried to do in this piece is live in peace". But you get to a point where you realize that's a lot to ask--- this is war. As much value as we attach to reason, life simply isn't reasonable; not by our standards. Thankfully, God looks out for us in the midst of it. But remember: God expects his people to be like Gideon. Remember Gideon at the water's edge? How he remained on his guard, even as he drank?

He was just lucky the water wasn't poisoned.

>;-p B-J

The Far Side of the Crib...

This is a special day indeed. This will be my last broadcast... from inside my room, that is ;-J

The next post you get from me will be coming directly from the far side of tha crib, where no bopper has ever ventured...

It's a corner of deep space where bitter souls will gather to watch the world unfold, and record the tragic stories of fallen heroes while wailing on the impending justice due to befall those who do villains...

It's a nexus in the dreams of all people where the family of love will congregate to resuscitate romance with harmonious pitches as hearts are fed with lyrics of soulful nurture...

It's a volume in the encyclopedia of language where street slang and practical vernacular will be put on equal par with grammatical acuteness and astute theory, and each shall be scrutinized by their content, composition, and character to uncover what da real, sho'nuff deal iz...

Ya'll ain' feelin' me quite yet, I know. Give it time. Romancexpress is on the move, and only the quickened among the dead may follow. Tune your ears in... Listen... Listen for the sound...


Yes... It Has Begun... B-J

Time Flux: Black History Interrupted

Deep in a basement laboratory, Jigabod and his progressive alliance of soul have succeeded in creating a makeshift time machine. But this time machine is not a transport as many would envision...

In the minds of the creators, the prototype is but a weapon, both by necessity and by provision. A machine that could place a man permanently in the past is far too dangerous for this world; even Jigabod wishes for second a chance to spend his life with the one he truly loves. Not only this, but one cannot fathom the power needed to fully commit a being even a few decades into the past; furthermore, the most that can be left in the past at this point is only something as light as a sheet of paper.

But even a sheet of paper can be heavy...

Jigabod has volunteered to pioneer a 1-minute expedition into the past; one minute to change the course of history.

His elected mission: to reconcile the differences between two of the greatest men in
African-American history, W.E.B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington.

His only weapon: A letter of reason...

"...'Pride precedeth destruction', my friends. It doesn't take an intellectual to know this; you both are over-qualified for this level of understanding.

I am an unborn descendant of the labors of both of you great men. I am thankful for your contributions to the future of African-Americans in this country, the United States of America. However, As I read of your exploits and accomplishments and episodes, it truly pains me that you were not able to accomplish MORE. History records that, though you both started as brothers-in-arms in the war for equality and a better life for African-Americans, you ended as the bitterest of enemies. And I cannot understand why...

Granted, your perspectives of what must be done to improve conditions for our people are vastly different, what I do not understand is why you are convinced that the process must be exactly one way or the other. Speaking from the perspective of one who knows your present as well as my present, which is the future, I can safely say that neither one of you or your methods is dispensible. Let me explain:

The established culture of America, the White culture, is a lion; the Black culture is but a tamer. We are caged together by the oceans, by the economy, by the government, by the common need to live fruitful lives. The object of the act is to prove that the lion and tamer can co-exist without the lion devouring the tamer; of course, if the tamer could devour the lion, the situation would be much different. He cannot.

To demonstrate liberty in the cage, the tamer must be able to stick his head into the lion's mouth, his most dangerous and most feared asset, and emerge without being decapitated. Mr. Washington, this is your role. However, to prevent the lion from closing his mouth and crushing him, the tamer's arms must prop the lion's mouth open. Mr. DuBois, this is your role.

Picture this my friends: for the head to sit in the lion's mouth with no support is a certain way to destruction at the lion's slightest hunger. However, for the arms to hold the lion's mouth without the head going in is no demostration of liberty in the cage. So what sense does it make for the arms and the head to be at war with each other? You are two instrumental elements of the same act, and one without the other is not sufficient to complete the show.

I will spare you the metaphor now and present something more practical. DuBois, I admire your insistence that justice be served and that the established culture be held accountable. You demand that Blacks receive all that Whites are afforded, and morally, this is right. However, what do you think is the outcome AFTER we've received these things? These rights, these privileges, these shared quarters, this liberal arts education?

Here is what happens: we realize that we've neglected to develop our own sect of society to a level where those thing which we've gained can be put to our use as effectively as it is to theirs. We create philosophers, but don't have enough men of skill to have a strong economy. We move in with the established culture, but find that it is still they who occupy most high-end jobs and create the social statuses and precedents, while all we can hope to do is fit in. We gain inclusion by right, but experience exclusion by economics.

I know this for fact, for I live in the future your way created...

Washington, I admire your insistence on industrial education and passion for education in general, your investment in Black businesses, your ability to interact with both races. You seek to develop the Black communiy without insisting on holding the established culture accountable and receiving aid and restitution from them.

The problem is, no matter how "nice" you are to them, there are those that still hate you. You may develop the Black community; you may get smiles from the established culture. But the instant that the people in power decide that you've "developed" enough, who will stop them from tearing down everything you've worked for? Because, you see, no matter how far you get, all your progress is still in the context of th established culture; if you don't prop the lion's mouth open and offer resistance, it will close its mouth on you.

Don't you see, my friends? You BOTH are the elements that make up the tamer; without one or the other, the ideal will never be realized. Mr. Washington, if you work on the Black community and focus on its internal development---Mr. DuBois, if you offer resistance by going to the courts and by seeking constitutional reinforcement and by demanding justice--- then, when integration finally occurs, it will be the integration of a strong, stable Black community into the established culture. in my future, integration resulted in a continued parasitic relationship where the established culture feeds off the Black community wihtout much gain for the Black community itself; it's 2007 and we are STILL exploited to the point that we oftentimes don't even recognize the exploitation. But the integration of a strong Black community, fostered by Mr. Washington and protected by Mr. DuBois, into the established culture would result in a mutualistic relationship, where Black may be continually hated, as hate isn't logical, but nevertheless valued sociologically.

There's no sense in choosing between Black pride or Black progress when you can have both. Put your personal differences aside PLEASE; no personal vendetta is worth the futures of your descendents. We look upon you both as heroes, but even today you divide us. And the division isn't necessary or fruitful for us. We are on the verge of the first Black president in American history in 2008; he will receive both the benefit and the burden that you two have left for us.

My friends, our time-travel machine was not advanced enough for me to go back to the genesis of man and kill the serpent in the garden of Eden; if I could have done it, I would have done it. I opted to come here because of circumstances, but also because I believe in the genius of you two. I believe your differences can be worked out and, for the sake of your antecessors, you would be willing to work them out. I leave you with another familiar passage from the Bible: "A house divided among itself shall not stand." Please, take your individual selves out of the picture and come together as one; the unity of you two means the unity of all those who come after you."

As the time machine generates a portal to the past, Jigabod approaches, letter clasped in hand. He waits for the cue...

"That's it, Jigabod, they're standing right next to each other! Get at 'em while they're still together!"

Jigabod disappears into the portal. African-Americnas, find a clock somewhere and hope that, in 60 seconds, the world as you know it will have changed for the better...

B-J

Let Boys Be Boys!!!

lol, I know ya'll remember that song, I can feel ya bobbin ya heads out there...

I had a talk with a young man the other day. It was the young man inside of me; the me of my boyhood. I wanna say he's got nuffin on me, but the truth is... that's hard to say, lol.

I mean, of course, I've got the knowledge, I've got the experience, I've got the understanding, I've got the size, I've got the mobility--- heck, I've got the driver's license. But there's a certain magic that boys have that men--- real men--- just don't.

There was a moment on this cartoon I was watching that really stuck in my mind. A warrior was reflecting on his youth, and he truly believed he was stronger as a youngster. Why? Well, when he got older, he found love. He found a wife, he raised a family, he developed attachments. And he felt that love, while it made a man of him, also softened him, did away with his ruthlessness, put reigns on his power and put sentiment in his heart.

I'm pretty sure any female is offended to be reading this right now, but... let's take a trip back. I promise, this will come full circle by the end, lol.

Remember when we were kids? Remember how they used to teach us that girls mature faster than boys? We, as boys, used to get slightly offended by that. For one, for a little while, some of you girls were taller than us! That's no biggie though; in retrospect, it was probably harder for you being larger than it was for us being smaller, with "social expectatios" and all...

But here was the second thing: when they called you "more mature", it wasn't just biological, but your actions were deemed "more mature". And now that I'm an adult, I can see how so: it's because back then, most little girls spent their girlhoods acting out the parts of grown women. Fellas, I know this doesn't go for everybody, but how many of us actually knew what love was when we were boys? I'm willing to bet the majority of boys who had "girlfriends" back then only had 'em because the girl had feelings for the guy and the guy just went along, lol.

But back up a second. If the girls were acting like women, then what were the boys acting like? THAT's where you really see what "maturity" means. While the girls acted like women, the boys acted like... BOYS!!! Think about it fellas; back then, the last thing that any of us wanted to do was: 1. be kissed or hugged; 2. initiate the kissing or the hugging; 3. use formal communication; 4. care about anybody; 5. sit still and pay attention; 6. talk; 7. make sense; 8. build relationships. Yo, if I remember correctly, all we wanted to do as boys was GO AS WILD AS POSSIBLE! Matter of fact, if I remember correctly, the reason we couldn't stand girls because they were always trying to "tie us down" into some formal game,lol.

...I guess that might be a test of your boyhood right there, but that's another day's topic.

All this being said though... I think there's something to be said for the boys; yes, girls are more mature, but what we don't realize is that maturity isn't everything. There may be no more raw of an individual on this earth than the young boy. This isn't a diss to girls at all; little girls are beautiful and this world wouldn't be worth it without 'em. But little boys at their best are a force to be reckoned with: the perfect blend of selfishness, brotherhood, lack of restraint, and accomplishment. If the men of the world had the hearts of boys, I believe the face of this earth would be one of two things: brighter than the sun with unrestricted progress, or littered with craters from the ultimate power struggle. Either way, aliens would gaze upon the earth with awe and fear, lol.

BUT, here comes the full circle... All due respect to the boys, but one cannot underestimate the power of a real man. You see, on one hand love does cause a man to be tender. But, tenderness is one of the true great strengths of the world. The greatest challenge for a strong man is to keep his power under control; it's easy to let power run wild as boys do, but to harness your strength and cradle a child in your arms, kiss your wife on the cheek, work unsatisfying jobs to support a household...

And make no mistake; love softens, but at the right time, love can multiply a man's strength infinitely. No, people may not see a man's strength readily displayed all the time. But let danger approach a man's beloved family... That's a force that the rawest, most ruthless boy in the world should fear. Because, when a man loves, whatever he loves becomes a vital organ of his own self; in his mind, he cannot afford to lose his own extension, no matter what it takes. That's the difference between a man and a boy: a boy's identity is in himself; a man's identity is in those he loves AS WELL as himself.

BUT, as long as a boy is a boy, he should enjoy his boyhood. It's a special time unlike any other. I miss the days when my heart was some amorphous thing that floated freely within me. But now that I know where it is and I've shared it, I see my boyhood drifting further and further away.

BUT, I'm not attached just yet! Oh, you can kiss me, but ya gotta catch me first... ;-)

SLAM!!! B-J

The Valentine's Night Broadcast

It's 10:41PM Valentine's Night and your homie, ya love, Jigabod iz just easin' along the track on Romancexpress. 'So glad you're riding wit' me, I really am...

I gotcha on the ones, I gotcha on the twos, but what I DON'T got is the blues; my Valentine's Day was OFF the hinges. Unfortunately, I didn't have anybody to spend it with; but love found a way anyway. If I may describe my Valentine's Day experience in a few words: you could call it an assist. I had the pleasure of helping one of my brothers-from-another-mother make a dream come true for that special lady in his life.

To the Bad Ms. that scooped my homie DavDee, I just want you to know: that boy is as fa'real as I've ever seen a brotha be; don't let that man go, he's special. And you must be special too, cuz he went all out for you. Make sure you thank him in a special way...

Not necessarily THAT way, just however you see fit, haha...

I'm tellin ya'll out there, as I was helping this cat bring his vision of love to reality, I literally saw a woman's heart jump out of her chest at the thought of this level of romance: the standard has been RAISED, brothas, haha. Here at Romancexpress we don't settle, we turn roses to petals; we turn sparks to flames and then we light candles; it's not a game...

That's two years in the row Valentine's Day got the jump on ya boy Jigabod with a crash course in the raw of romance. I ain mad tho; I hope EVERYBODY had a Valentine's Day to remember. DavDee, ya'll take it easy out there and enjoy yaselves...

Comin' up, I'm gonna do sumn special. I'ma hit ya'll with 4 tracks courtesy of my boy DavDee, the man of the hour. While I was ridin' with the playa today he had these tracks bumpin', and I've been bumpin' 'em ever since; his choice in music is like his choice in women: impecable. These should help ya'll cats ride out the rest of the night in the right groove:

The Isley Brothers - "Make Me Say It Again Girl"

Quincy Jones - "Somethin Special"

The Isley Brothers - "Let Me Down Easy"

Anthony Hamilton - "The Truth"


That's it from me, the night's got me surrounded. I got my hands up, I give. Can't ya'll feel that energy!?? Special shout out to Keisha, my love at long distance; you got my heart on credit, haha! But I hope you had somebody in realtime to share your day, maybe ya night with; nobody should be alone right now.


Cupid, you're STILL a bisexual hermaphrodite! We've got romance on lock like you NEVER could...

This is Jigabod, Signing Off... B-J

Taking Faith for Granted

So I'm in the bathroom chillin. Why? Cuz I'm brontophobic: don't do well with storms. And, as usual, I begin to talk to God to pass the time.

I slow down and evaluate my relationship with Him as of late. It's no surprise that I'm not as close to Him as I once was, though I'm still strong in my belief. So I try to piece together what went wrong.

God is the one being, with a few tentative exceptions, in this universe that I trust, no mistaking that. But it's not the kind of trust that I'd like it to be. Put it like this: I know that God is capable of all things. I also know that God has His own agenda; thus, everything we pray for we don't always receive. But take, for example, my brontophobia; I've prayed it away for quite some years now. It's still here; God hasn't decided to move that from me.

Fair enough. So... I find I'm left with two options: either be at the mercy of this fear for the rest of my life, or try to beat it on my own strength. This is the picture of my relationship with God at the moment. You see, I trust God 100%. But what do I do when God deicdes not to move on a situation?

Well, there's several situations in my life of the same sort; I've asked for help here, help there. I've asked in all the ways I could think of; I've repented and taken all the precautions to make sure my prayers were heard. No dice. So, with my peripheral vision toward Heaven, I make due.

Oh, I'm not an ingrate; I recognize the many things that God does for me in spite of the other things that He hasn't done (yet). And I believe there's a reason for everything, even delayed/unanswered prayers. And I know God has my back when it's all said and done; but I still feel like I'm alone sometimes. I mean, even an occasional visit from an angel would be nice; just something to let me know I'm not really "on my own" in these battles, the way I feel.

Call that a long introduction...

In the midst of the rumblings and all these thoughts, I nevertheless sought ways to conquer what I haven't been able to conquer for almost two decades. Reluctantly, I went back to the Word; I say reluctantly because, obviously, my predicament never changed before, even when I was reading like I was supposed to. Actually, I didn't read this time; I meditated on what I already knew. Something was telling me I needed more faith. So faith is what I meditated on.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen... faith of a mustard seed... move mountains... by faith, Enoch... faith cometh by hearing..."

That's what my thoughts looked like; reciting that over and over in my mind randomly. But I kept going back to that first part that defines what faith is: "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." I thought to myself, "I've read this hundreds of times... I've taught this to my class... I've had it taught to me several times... What is it REALLY saying..." And I began to construct a new interpretation.*

At first, I tried finding another word for faith that might shed some light. For some reason, I kept thinking to myself all day, "I need to give God more credit than this." Credit... faith, plus or minus. Similar concepts there. Credit is something you bank on first and manifest later. I placed a mental bookmark on the thought...

I analyzed the verse again. "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for..." WEll, if a thing has substance, then there's no sense in hoping for what's there, right? That's when it first became clear to me; perhaps faith isn't simply believing in what's not apparent. Perhaps it's something a bit narrower: believing in something without actually realizing its manifestation.

Lemme give you an example. Walking on water for instance. To this point, I've believed that faith is believing one can walk on water and then doing it. But I'm looking more closely at it now; perhaps faith isn't in the act, but in the steps you take. Faith is not placing one foot on the water and realizing you're walking on water; once you've realized it, it's not faith anymore because your hope is reality. Faith is placing one foot on the water and, before you realize it, placing the other foot ahead; and, before you realize that, placing the other foot ahead. It's an ongoing extension of credit where you never count the cost, but rest assured that it will be paid; literally "walking by faith" and not by sight.

Then I meditated a little further: "...the evidence of things not seen." The word "of" jumped out at me. "Of" is a word of possession. So faith actually belongs to something; I had always assumed that it belongs to the person that "has" faith. But while faith may "dwell" in us, as it "dwelt" in Lois and Eunice in the Bible, this verse suggests that faith belongs to "things hoped for" and to "things unseen": the unseen God and His promises of things to come. It seems strange, but it's really not so; the moment that any of these "unseen hopes" manifests itself, faith no longer exists. Therefore, faith is in the possession of those hidden things, and it's distributed to those of us who choose to believe in them. And if we receive enough faith, we can experience what we hope for before it arrives, and that gives us proof of the unseen before it is made visible.

Why do I say all this? I'm simply proposing that faith is a thinner line than we give it credit for. I dare say it was that thin line that caused Peter to stumble when he tried to walk on water with Jesus. It's the line between hope and manifestation; you hafta take hope to the next level, but not so far that hope materializes into actuality. So, I'm gonna try working this faith thing again; like I said, I never stop believing, but I always question if I have the right perspective. If nothing else, I've got plenty of mountains to move for practice.


*Side note: this is how I navigate the Bible. I believe that the Bible itself is never wrong; however, a one-dimensional interpretation may provide only limited meaning. So I constantly change perspectives to see all the angles, and every now and then it pays off...


Once Again, Hindsight is 20/20... B-J

My Summertime Valentine

So I'm sitting in class today. No... lemme start over.

So I'm WALKING INTO class today, and I almost run into this young lady. I whispered the usual "excuse me" with my head lowered, and I couldn't help but notice these amazing shoulders right? From that point on, it was all bad. I couldn't just look away; I had to see the face attached to the body. And it was gorgeous.

It's the weirdest phenomenon that I experience every semester. You would think that you'd notice all the beautiful people in your class on the very first day. It never happens with me, probably because I'm so busy looking for familiar faces that I don't really "see" anybody. But today, I definitely saw somebody.

And now, I'm all messed up... again. Just when I decided to flick-off another Valentine's Day, I start to feelin' all romantic and stuff. I found myself listening to Slum Beautiful by OutKast all day, and I mean REALLY GETTING INTO this song. It means so much more when you actually have somebody on your mind, ya know? Tambout, you know how a song hits ya, and it makes you wanna stomp ya foot? But that's hard to do while driving... you get the idea. While Big Boi raps about having a "bearhug on your figure", some girl's got a bearhug on my heart; 'got me all off-beat, lol...

But something about this girl that particularly sparks my interest: you know the legend of the "Summertime Girl"? You know, the one that every dude who is a real dude envisions when the summer comes? The one whose skin reflects the sunlight in the twilight of day? The one who likes to run and play and kick it with the fellas? But at the drop of a hat is the sexiest girl on Earth? Yeah... I haven't seen that in quite some time. I mean, I've seen a lot of varieties of beautiful women no doubt. But this type... It's a spine-tingling sensation, bruh.

I know the fellas are probably mad at me for not going into detail and such. Be patient, be patient: I'm trying to recall the details just right so you can feel where I'm coming from.

*Exhales*

Aight... No sense in trying to find better words, because there is no better way to describe her: she has a body like Ciara. Tall, trim, tone, ya feel me? Elegantly defined arms; now you picture that in a sleeveless pink top... Her hair is fairly straight, but it falls down in twists; reaches a little bit further than shoulder length. Like... Ciara, again. Eyes, bright and vibrant, just the way I like 'em. Smooth honey-glazed caramel skin. Full lips. Cute face. Athletic features here and there (I think she might play b-ball for the school).

She had to give a presentation today, and it was the most attention I've payed in a class to date: I can't remember a lick of what I was supposed to get from it, but I got what I wanted to get out of it dadgommit, mmmkay...

Real talk, if I had a clear shot, I would've told her how beautiful she looked today. The room was crowded after class, so that clear shot didn't make itself available to me. You have no idea how close I was to turning my lil car around to see if she was still on campus. Remember my policy: no sense in sparing a well-deserved compliment.

It's February 13th; Valentine's Day is tomorrow. You see how awkward Valentine's Day makes things? I mean, it's one thing to ask somebody to "be my Valentine" for a one day gig; it's something different to ask "can we go out sometime" with long term implications. I'm more inclined to go for the latter; that cat named Cupid iz gettin in my way a lil bit, and I don't appreciate it. But, we'll see how it pans out...


Slum Beautiful... (Ah!) Drivin' I Plum CRAAAZAAAAAY! B-J

Make Me Laugh

Yep. I'm talking to myself. "Hello Me, how are we." Crappy and sh!tty. So I'm gonna tell Me some jokes to make Me feel better. That's right, I'm gonna make Me laugh. If you don't like it, we don't care; we'll merk you and sell the property they bury you on on eBay for a half-a-peanut. That's a pea, fool.

When I was born, I hope I gave the doctor the dirtiest look... I was only safe for 9 months. Then I came into this world, blind as a Republican. That's right, I was born nearsighted. And we didn't find this out til after my preschool teacher had beat the awesomeness out of me for not reading the alphabet right.

"What's this letter, Matthew?"

"Matthew can't see that sh!t Ms. Grant. Can't you tell by all this squintin'?" She musta thought I was Chinese or sumn. My bad, "Asian"; political correctness, politcal correctness...


Speaking of politics, I hate to do this, but it must be done... Barack Obama for President. Not because I actually want him for President, but because... I wanna see how bad America is gon struggle with that name. Not the media now, cuz they can f#ck a man's name up, and they'll change his name to whatever they say it is. I'm talkin bout US. US who's favorite song was Laffy Taffy just a lil while ago... Oh yeah, this gon be some sh!t here. I can see it now:

"Mama, we got a Black man for President. Baramp Parama!"

"You mean Barack Obama."

"What the hell?! We at war with terrorism, and now we got a bomber for President? How did THAT happen?"

"Not 'bomma' with an 'o'; 'bama' with an 'a'. B-A-M-A."

"Even worse, ya'll elected a bamma for President..."

Don't blame me folks, I'm just the messenger. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't gon' happen.


Meanwhile, I realized some things today. I realized that 'nigga' backwards is actually 'aggin'. So, I figured out that I must be dyslexic, because every time I see a nigga, I say, "Again?"



Got Valentine's Day comin up this Wednesday. I said it once, I'ma say it again: Cupid, you are a bisexual hermaphrodite. Go screw yourself.



At the Grammy Awards, Christina Aguilera sang "This is a Man's World" in tribute of James Brown. As a Black man and as an Augusta native, born in Georgia, raised in Carolina, I can say this: who's idea was it to... Lemme phrase this delicately... Ya'll couldn't have found NOBODY... DARKER... to sing the songs of Soul Brotha Number 1? If I said that the sh!t made sense to me, I'd hafta be born-again AGAIN.



So I've been listening to the radio a liiittle bit, and I keep hearing Jennifer Hudson's new rendition of Jennifer Holliday's classic, "You're Gonna Love Me". One station played the songs back to back for listener comparison. So I heard them both. And here's my take on it: that's two women I'm glad I never got involved with. You ever get the feeling somebody would kill you to keep you? Whoa... O_o



So I'm back in school now. And I never wanted to get high so bad in my life. Remember how the campaign used to be "Stay in school/say no to drugs"? These geniuses never pieced together that it was the staying in school that was causing kids to turn to drugs. I put that on my... Ludacris album. Cuz I don't want it.

Just kidding... I don't even have it. ZINGGGG



I went to Taco Bell 2 days ago and met a woman... There is just nothing that sounds right about that statement.



I can't figure out why R. Kelly is still free people, it blows my mind. Okay, he pissed on the girl that you saw on the tape (yeah, I know you saw it). That's still being processed. But what about the way this man just pissed on Ciara?! Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm tambout... That remix? To "Promise"? Oh, he pissed ALLLL OVER that. And we got it on tape... CASSETTE tape. LOCK HIM UP BEFORE HE STRIKES AGAIN!



I found myself at a loss the other day. I was going to talk to this older woman right... I mean, she seemed older, but at the same time she seemed very young, which is what was so attractive. Come to find out, this lady has a teenaged daughter. So I'm trying to reconcile in my own mind how this is gonna work out: the mother's too old, the daughter's too young. SEEMS like there should be an in-between somewhere. Like, is there a way to put two women together and average it out? I'm trying really hard to make sense here...



Some say the first company in the US was the Dutch East India company, or sumn like that. Nope. The first company in the US was UPS: "Let Brown Do It". We called it slavery. D@mn, we can't get credit for SH!T over here.



And I told ya'll hip hop was getting too commercial. Now it's 100% commercial. Commercial for Chevrolet to be exact. Starring T.I. and Young Jeezy. If you deny it, you need glasses thicker than they make em; you need binocular glasses nigga. And you better watch your heroes cuz, and I don't know about you, but I ain't wit that down-low sh!t...



I got a couple of chuckles about my resemblence to Norbit in the last couple of days. That's cool. I would just like to say to those people, you're right; and like Norbit, I'm not into beastly broads. Which means you're sh!t outta luck. Sorry peeps.



Laughter is the best medicine. But the APA won't allow me to practice without a license. It's bad for business, like having workers to pay...


I Like Your Vocals Down-Low, Down-Low, Down-Low... B-J

Cupid, You Are a Bisexual Hermaphrodite...

...go screw yourself.

I can't describe how good it felt to say that. Well, it's that time of year again.
To be honest, I'm not feeling very romantic... Okay I am, but no more than usual. It's hard to think about love with the smell of cigarette smoke all over me; no, I don't smoke, I just drove my dad's truck today. Oh, and did I mention they're trying to lay him off? Yeah, his company just got bought out; hundreds of workers about to lose their jobs. All hail capitalism. Keep up the good work, America.

The profanity is ringing so loudly in my mind, I really don't see the point in not saying it...

Oh, I'm sorry. This is supposed to be a Valentine's-type entry. I don't see myself being involved in the festivities this year, but it doesn't mean I don't feel it in the air a little. I'll make room for it.

I'm not really sure what to talk about. If you wanna know about where I am in love, nothing's really changed: the "one" for me is married already and my "dream girl" lives in Detroit. But, if the first was the "one", then she wouldn't be married already, theoretically. And the "dream girl" is a heck of a sweet dream; sometimes dreams are sweeter if they stay that way. Go figure.

I keep listening to "Tiger in the Rain" by Michael Franks. I'm probably just as frightened as the tiger in the song (and 10x more brontophobic). I feel like I'm looking for shelter, just like the tiger. But, I don't want to get into a relationshiop just for that reason, ya know? I think it's better to get things under control on my own strength first.

But oftentimes I do wonder; maybe life is so difficult because it's not meant to be lived alone. Overall, I'm very solitary; even my closest friends are those who respect my space and maintain their own. I'm such an odd cat that it's difficult for me to imagine someone who's compatible. At the same time, I don't see myself changing just for the sake of being more accessible.

Going back to the fear thing though. You know what scared me the other day? And I know I've mentioned this before, so I find it kinda funny that I'm saying this. But it's the fact that... I could probably be single for the rest of my life and be totally okay with it. That frightens me.

As I lay here half-asleep, it really doesn't seem so bad to be alone. But they say it's not healthy to isolate oneself. I wonder is that true, or does it apply only to social people who try to go it alone? I'm rambling a bit...

What does all this hafta do with Valentine's Day? Not a thing really. Like I said, I'm not feeling very romantic; too many real life situations threatening my livelihood at the moment.

Ya know, before I go, I just made an observation. Love is a beautiful thing. It's beautiful to experience, but it's also beautiful to observe. And... that's kinda where I am right now. When I think of love, when I see love, it fills my heart with good feelings. Like an exquisite work of art. And then... I move to the next exhibit. Is it possible to really be this way? I guess it is, huh...

Patience that leads to the starvation of desire. Is this right? It seems like with each passing year of solitude, it becomes easier to add another year.

Anyway, I'm really tired. Feel like a burned-out cigarette. Definitely gotta wash these sheets out in the morning.

Good Night B-J

The Truth Hurts... The Truthful

I hate lying to people. But sometimes, I even hate telling the truth. I'm not talking about the truths of life or the truth of God's word, but the truth pertaining to personal things.

Why do I lie? Don't get me wrong, it's not a habit; 90% of the time, I tell people the truth. 50% of that 90%, I live to regret it. So every now and then, depending on who it is, I lie about some things.

But that still doesn't answer the question. So here's why: because, for these certain people, when I tell the truth, they don't know what to do with it. They take the truth, and they use it to belittle me. They take the truth, and they use it to analyze me. They take the truth, and they use it to put me under a microscope and judge me. They take the truth, and they make a bigger deal of it than I do when I'm the only one that's living my life.

I mean, have you ever had a problem, and you've made your peace with God about it, and you know He's working it out... and then comes along somebody in your life who takes that problem and uses it to get a "1-up" on you? I mean, you don't wanna lie, but you don't wanna open up to "snipers".

It's bad because, with some people, it's automatic for me to not be straight up. I've conditioned myself to know how they're gonna react every time... Correction: I didn't condition myself; THEY conditioned me by never failing to do what they do every--- single--- time. Flat out, sometimes I don't tell the truth because people can't be trusted with the truth. That's no excuse, of course, but that's a hard habit to break.

And like I said, it's not a frequent thing for me; 'matter of fact, I avoid certain people just so I don't feel forced to lie. My closest friends, I have NO hang-ups about being truthful with. Why? Because they never use the truth to hurt me; we share the same experiences and they react by being empathetic. It's never a "You did/said/thought/felt WHAT? We've gotta work on that..."; it's an "I feel you; had the same thing happen to me. Don't worry bout it, you'll get through."

Of course, the obvious flipside of all this is, "If you always did the right thing, then you'd have no reason to be reluctant." Good.

1. You're wrong. Cuz 90% of the time people don't critique to correct, they just do it to make themselves feel good. Meaning, they'll come at you even if you're doing everything right and MAKE UP wrongs. They tease smart kids for being gifted; they crucified Jesus for being perfect. There's no such thing as begin "right" in the eyes of the people.

2. If YOU always did the right thing, then maybe you'd be in a position to even make that statement. But since you didn't, you're not. Plain and simple.

And then there's the, "Why don't you man-up and tell the truth and just take the results?" Fair enough. The problem is retaliation: I'm not far from it. I can't remember why I've been so patient for so long; I mean, I know why, but I can't "feel" it anymore. I can't afford to retaliate, but at the same time I don't really even care. I would like nothing better than for somebody to open their mouth to give me an excuse to cock back and do irrevocable damage to it; the punching bag in my living room is not an accessory.

I'm not aa patient as I used to be; I just control my circumstances so that my patience doesn't get tried as much.

Oh, and by the way; this IS the wrong way of thinking about things. So you don't hafta tell me that, like I don't already know it, like the words weren't formed in my own mind.

By and large, I'm a very honest person. And one day, when I don't need anybody's support, I'll be totally honest... because no one will control any aspect of my life. Heck, maybe one day I'll be insane enough to just let people take shots at me for no good reason and I'll just act like they're doing me a favor. But, most likely, I'll find myself in a sho'nuff fistfight before that happens.

Just Kidding... Maybe B-J

To 'The Thing': My Apologies...

...but I'm gonna call you 'THE EMOTIONAL HULK' from now on! ROFLMAOOOOOOOOO


*'The Thing' is a character from the Fantastic Four comics who is made of rock. Due to his appearance, he lost his wife and... pretty much all his self esteem.


I know it seems cold, but you gotta understand: 'THE EMOTIONAL HULK' sounds SOOOOOOOO funny! Just think about it... I BET you can't do it without laughing! Sometimes a joke is so good that you just can't pass it up man! YOU GOTTA UNDERSTAND MANNN!!!

So, again, to 'The Thing', my apologies; I really do feel bad about all this. But I'd feel so much worse if I didn't say it at least once!


If it makes you feel any better... that fedora and trenchcoat is a GANGSTA look on you! You should change ya name to Rock Mobster or sumn...


Best Laugh I've Had in a Minute (and that's sad) B-J

Hell for a Thinker: The Never-Revolution

Revolution. From the Latin word "revolvere", meaning "to turn". Meaning: a sudden, radical, or complete change.

Note: not from the Latin word "cambiare", meaning "to change". Every revolution is a change; every change is not a revolution.


So I'm a Marxist; not because I read Marx first and agreed with him, but because I drew my own conclusions first and he agreed with me. I had a professor years ago who briefly mentioned Marx; this was before I had any interest in Marx. The professor was discussing Marx as a person, and according to this professor, Marx's contemporaries referred to him as, and I quote, "an asshole".

Well... I'll at least say this. If he was an "asshole", then he was an asshole with good reason. Why was old Marx so grumpy? Because he had a dream that he would never live to see come to pass. And he knew it.

And I can't say I don't share the sentiment. You want the truth of the matter? Okay. Here's the bold-faced truth: it is more likely that the end of days will transpire and Jesus Christ will return and restore the Earth before any of these so-called "revolutions" take place.

Why? I can give you reasons all day. But I'll keep em broad and general:

1. 90% of what people call "revolution" is but small change (literally and figuratively). A revolution by definition overturns all previous things for the creation of a new order. The vast majority of what people coin "revolutionary" is simply taking what has already been established and improving upon it; i.e., reinventing the wheel, but this time throw some D's on that b!tch.

2. Revolution starts in the heart. It starts with caring for the welfare of our fellow man. And we don't care; we're super-individualized. Matter of fact, there are those of us who benefit from the downfall of others; we don't have heart enough for revolution.

3. The most important battle for revolution is in the mind. Bandwagoning is not revolution. Why? Because bandwagons just take advantage of stupidity; it's mindless. Anything that you were forced into, that you joined because your friends joined, that you gotta ask the person next to you "what are we marching for" is not revolution.

4. Revolution isn't comfortable. We don't want to sacrifice the stability, the "progress", the tradition, the luxuries, the lives, the muscle, the time, the ingenuity, the personal agendas, the self-righteousness, the rank, the money, or anything else that makes a revolution tick.

5. Revolution has to stop somewhere, and we wouldn't be prepared for that. I guarantee if we did have a revolution right now, we would throw out the old way without ever deciding on a new way. Cuz revolution is a hype more than a reality.

6. Revolution requires a single entity being overthrown. If we had a "revolution", it would be 25 different causes trying to get promoted coagulating into a world-wide free-for-all ending in total destruction. 'Falls right in there with 4 & 5.


No, there won't be any revolution. At least, not in our time. And Marx knew this. See, people think Marx was all about "communism now" or something. No. The truth is, Marx was a believer in capitalism just as much as he was a proponent of communism. See, he didn't like capitalism, but he believed it was a "necessary evil" in order to reach something higher. He didn't deny the productive potential of capitalism, but he also recognized its self-destructive tendencies that would lead to its downfall.

See, there's a 7th reason for no revolution:

7. Revolution is a process. It won't happen overnight. It won't happen over decades. Only after the status quo has run its course will revolution be possible.

So, here was a man who had a dream, saw his dream afar off, but realized his own life would end before he reached it. Ain't that some bull: the very thing you work so hard to understand and promote, you can never attain for yourself. Talk about being robbed of one's labor. And they wonder why he was an "asshole"...

So what did this "asshole" do? He simply promoted those things which would bring the dream closer to reality for everyone, not just himself. He spotted movements and through his support behind them. Each one brings revolution one step closer. But the steps are hundred-fold; we're still nowhere near revolution.

This is just a glimpse of the hell it is to be a thinker. Solomon wasn't kidding when he said, "with wisdom comes sorrow". Me? well, I'm a lot like Marx in that my eyes are off in the distance, but I can only contribute to my present state. See, I know how powerful my enemies are, so I know my limits. I also know that they're not invincible, so I continue to relentlessly "throw sand at the machine" with intent to bury it. I also know that it takes more than one set of hands to finish the job... but even with two sets of hands, we must be throwing at the same machine. It's disheartening.

BUT, the good news is, from a spiritual standpoint, there are other battles to win on a one-on-one personal level. And the most important battle was won with the birth, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And like I said, by the time revolution arrives, His revolution wil probably already have taken place. So I gotta pretend like I don't see what's apparent, I guess, and do my part to see that the cause of Christ is promoted.

But I wonder how victoriously we'll ever live with so many invisible forces restricting us that we don't even recognize. Will we ever truly be revolutionary Christians, or are we doomed to continuously just throw some D's on our beliefs every few years and call that revolution...

Gather wisdom, (Prov. 8:11)

but wisdom brings sorrow, (Ecc. 1:18)

and this is the sorrow I'm wise to (Rev. 13:18)


Revolutionary is a State of Mind B-J

Know Freedom

Until you know the reality, you can only be a victim and a part of the problem. It's not a judge of your character, just a plain fact. But when you know the reality... at least then you can claim you're just "playing along" with the machine.

What do you know about freedom? You only know what you think you know; and what you think you know is only what you've been told by the collective. You can't see the forest for the trees; you don't know jack.

You claim to know, but you haven't searched. Oh, you looked in every open door. But you live in a house of trap doors and secret passages. And you never ventured those places, because you didn't even know they existed.

You didn't know they existed because their entrances are in the darkest corners of your cellar; maybe in your parents' bedroom closets; maybe under your carpets.

Or maybe... they're not hidden. Maybe fear was used on you instead. How many words do you hear and reflexively turn your head, though you barely know anything about them? And hell, when all was said and done, you didn't even bother to look them up; you assumed there was no profit in knowing. Forever a victim, at the mercy of an illusionary world.

Then there are a few of us who get suspicious. Suspicion is only the beginning. Suspicion is nothing without the matching conviction. Conviction is nothing without persistence. But soon, with persistence, suspicion becomes faith; and that faith manifests itself in revelation.

You're almost free.

The facts stare you in the face. And you find you're not the only one who's seen them before. There are others; so you go to meet them. You find you're too late. They've been undermined, exiled, ostracised, executed, assassinated, obliterated... buried.

Now it's your turn. Will you be buried too?

Fortunately, for the sake of your freedom, this is not the question that you must answer. The only question that you must answer: "do you know what you know?"

You see, though revolution starts with love, the first and most important battle is in the mind. If you can't free your mind to see what's apparent, then you're doomed to be a victim: an unwilling participant in your own destruction. Even more, you will continue to contribute to the very thing that feeds on you and on all those you love. If you see darkness, never let 'them' convince you that it's light. Tradition will destroy you; trust will destroy you; pursuit of wealth will destroy you; from top to bottom, anything short of the Trinity is subject to be your destruction.

If I were to lose my life right now, I'd die a free man. Can you say the same? What do you know that you know?


The Thinking That Makes One Free--- Liberal Arts B-J

Key-Tap

Yo, I got outta two classes early today and I can't believe it! The problem is... I'm still here?? Yeah... I got a third class at semn o' clock. There is time to kill, and the blood shall be on my hands! MUWAHAHAHAHAHA...

Hmm... they say it's supposed to ice up pretty bad tonight. I don't believe it. I dunno, it just felt too heavy and humid for that to happen in my opinion. BUT... I'm not too concerned. Any snow day is a good snow day.

6:10PM...

I don't feel any better now than I did 10 minutes ago. This is gonna be the longest hour in history. I could kick a rhyme or sumthin, but truthfully, I just don't feel like it. I mean, I do, but not on paper. I'd rather practice freestyling aloud to a slick instrumental. Slick...

Doesn't really matter much, but I think I'll just say for saying's sake: I still feel like a kid on campus. Is it possible that I'm gonna feel like a kid for the rest of my life? Maybe it's not a bad thing, eh? To be honest, I don't care if I ever "grow up". With me, it's not about growing up; it's about getting the job done. Just show me the way, lemme take the shot, and I'll be on my merry way.

6:14PM...

You gotta be kidding me! My right thumb is twitching; there's supposed to be a remote to life that can fast-forward moments like this...

I am hungered. I got a taste for Burger King fries: you know, the greasy, limp ones. I might hit WalMart and cop Ocean's 11 tonight. I love the one scene at the end where the crew is standing in front of the Mirage fountain at the Bellagio; the first time I saw it, I had Spottieottiedopalicious by OutKast playing. Wonderful feeling there; maybe I'll have a scene like that in my life one day, lol.

6:20PM...

Tiiiiiiiime... is a thorn in my side... YES it iiis...
Kay, I just reread everything I wrote. You might see some of them show up again at some future date. Why? Cuz I could write a thesis on the word "a", that's why. Wanna see it?

A is the first letter of the alphabet. And guess what? Now you have a riddle to try on your friends: "Our alphabet: what is the only letter that appears twice in it?" You can accept the answer "a" or the answer "u" for "double-u". "A" is the riddler's answer because technically, in "our alphabet", it's the only letter that appears twice. You solve riddles, I make them. That's how it works. U knuckin right...

6:25PM...

I keep hearing Bobby Creekwater in my head; it's a privilege. What are YOUUU hearing? I should really be concentrating on Max Weber right now, but I did that already, and I'm confident that I'ma run it in class tonight. Big talk, I know; I do it cuz it's fun and inexpensive. In other words, even if I DON'T run it, who's gonna throw it in my face? Always ask yourself this question: when a man talks big, does he actually have anything to lose? If he has nothing, than he's not talking; if he has something, then you better take that man at his word. Right now, I'm not talking...

Valentine's Day is on the way. But LO AND BEHOLD, I'm LIBERATED BRUTHA! "Will you have a Valentine?" B!TCH I don't even have a calendar! Hold THAT!

6:30 PM...

I saw Blade Trinity the other day. *yawn* I also saw Mobsters the other day. DOPENESS! The start of The Commission! Bugsy, Meyer, Lucky, Capone... all these dudes at one table. That's nutz. And here's a paraphrase for the quotebooks:

Al Capone: "No leader? Joint leadership? Caesar wouldn't have had joint leadership?"
Lucky Luciano: "And that's why Caesar ended up dead in the street."

lol... I love that. So now, in addition to Hoodlum, I got Mobsters with one of my favorite mob movies. And I GOTTA get me a fedora one of these days!!

6:35 PM...

You might not believe it--- doesn't bother me one bit--- but my mind does this allllllllll day long. I crave mental stimulation at all times and in all degrees. I'm tambout, I'm wondering if a friend of mine is going to walk by--- approximately 250 ft away from me and through several classroom walls--- because, if so, I plan to intercept him just to chat. And I don't even feel like publishing this blog, truthfully, but I've come this far so I'm gonna post it. You wouldn't believe how many times I've written this amount and more only to say screw it and trash the whole shabang in a click, drag, key-tap. Matter of fact, I think that's what I'm gonna call this piece: Key-Tap.

Big shout out to Aqua Teen Hunger Force for shutting down Boston; America, you know it don't make no sense to be that scared of a Lite Brite. What are we gonna be like when the War on Terror is OVER?

...Still scared. Bank on it. (come to think of it, that's what I MEANT to type on. I'll get to it later, lol)

6:40 PM - I'm tapped out... B-J