inner city blues, part one.

I work in an area called Pigtown. Washington Village is its technical name, located in Southwest Baltimore. I grew up about 5 minutes away from this place, on McCulloh Street. Westside. Every day I come to work, I have to walk past a generator with 4 stadium style lights attached to it. A Baltimore City Police sticker emblazoned on its side. Across the street, a camera hangs from a lighpost. Above it, a blue light flickers. Similar Baltimore City Police sticker surrounds it.
Everyone has a couple different personalities that reside inside of them. I have about 6 I think, but for today's purposes, I'll only discuss 2.

One is optimistic Mike. He likes to believe in the inherent goodness in people. In the system. In white people, government and the police. That somewhere, powerful people are tirelessly working to remedy the wrongs. All of them. He knows they care, but sometimes "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." But the intentions are noble, and as long as the intentions are noble, the actions are bound to conicide with them.

The other is pessimistic Mike. He likes to think of himself as the penultimate realist. Not negative, just realistic. He can't believe that people are at heart decent when they do such terrible things. White people have to be evil, because they enslaved another race of people. And to add insult to injury, established a system of oppression so detrimintal and inconspicous that they could retire the whips, chains, hoses, nooses, jim crow laws, miscegnation laws and granfather clauses and elect them to the hall of fame. We (black people) willing perpetuate our own distruction. The police are pigs and the streets are the sty where they do their dirt. Judges and other members of the justice system are the farmers that keep them fed and fat, sometimes sacrificing a couple when public opinion dicates it.

Optimistic Mike reads the newspaper and cheers when he reads about advances like Drug Courts. They are in existance to funnel non-violent drug offenders away from jail and into drug treatment programs. Treating addiction as a medical problem. Score one for the good guys trying to make a difference. Re-arrest rates for those in drug court down 50%. 700 people graduated from drug court since 1995 and only 11% have been convicted of new crimes. Optimistic Mike shows off that Tiger Woods fist pump. Hop on the 8, and head to work. Blue lights dots the horizon. Stadium lights illuminate the street corners. Pessimistic Mike doesn't have to say a word. A simple head shake speaks volumes.
(I told you so) is etched in his gaze.
700 people saved by the systems since '95. Those cameras will make up for the loss. 6 months tops. 72 months wipe out 11 years of sympathetic judges and remorseful defendants. How can trust the noble intentions of the justice system and their Drug Court when they assist in the placement of 178 electric eyes all over my fair city? 178 cameras= 2 million dollar Homeland Security grant+ 2.9 million dollars in confiscated drug money+ 20 million dollar grant from the U.S. Justice Department. All that cake. And how effective could they really be?

Take a trip with me, back to your childhood. Your in your room, mind set on no good. And right before you can commit the mischevious act, moms pops in. Thwarted, for now. But her presence didn't make you want to do dirt any less. Let's say, that your momma stayed there, and didn't leave. Once you got past the initial fear that moms was now a robot, you would go somewhere else where she couldn't see you. These lights and camera do not eliminate crime, just shuffle it into different areas where big brother isn't watching. (hood feng shui) And here is the essential problem with this type of surveilance (other than invasion of privacy): it's an all-or-nothing proposition. Put them up everywhere where a crime could be committed, or save your money. Watching crime instead of changing the situation that allows it to be one of a few viable options? To be continued.

the lorax.

"And all that the Lorax left here in this mess

was a small pile of rocks with one word...

"UNLESS"

Whatever that meant well, I just couldn't guess.

That was long, long ago.

But each day since that day

I've sat here and worried

and worried away.

Through the years, while my buildings have fallen apart

I've worried about it

with all of my heart

"But now" says the Once-ler,

"Now that you're here,

the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.

UNLESS someone like you

cares a whole awful lot,

nothing is going to get better.

It's not."

cry.

"Cry the beloved country, for the unborn child that
is the inhertitor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him
not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too
silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too
moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to
a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too
much."

I have always heard that I was weird, and this is a claim that I no longer deny. But recently I am hearing the description weird being replaced with crazy. As in "Yo Mike, you're going crazy." or "You need to take medicine, you crazy bastard." I do not deny this claim either. So then I began to think about what is the cause of this impending insanity. I know why people think I'm going bannanas. The consensus is that I "over-think" life. I rather not go into my actions that lead people to beleive this, but if you know me, you have a pretty good idea. My peers have their ideas: my Gilman education, my father, my overall Singleton Heritage, the fact that I live in Baltimore, among others. They might be right. Last night I came up with the reason for my off-center mindset. I love too many. Too much. Too deeply.

People who have known me in recently years, or on a cursory basis may notice a bitterness, a seeming deep resentment for life in general. This is true. What has to be realized however is that love and hate go hand in hand. The capacity to hate is only achieved by those with the capacity to love. My resentment seems so strong because my love runs deeply. Gift and Curse alike. I hate this world as it stands because I love what it has the potential to be. I have heeded the warning of the above quote. I have refused to love anymore a people that seemed destined for demise. I have refused to love a land that is defiled. For I have a fear that these things will be taken away from me. A destroyed people, a barren land, a seemingly inevitable outcome. Bitterness removed the fear. I despised the world around me because that hate allowed detachment. I was no longer afraid because I now hated those things I once loved. Destroyed, defiled, debased, ruined, spoiled, it all could come to fruition, and it wouldn't matter to me. Or so I thought. The fact of the matter is that there is no way I can turn it off. I have to care for this world, because if I do not, who will? Not to look at it with resentment, but with understanding. I want to be better than I am, I want people to be better than they are, I want this world to be better than it is. I will cry out for this change. I began writing this to prove to myself, and to others that I was not insane. I do not think I was successful. Know this is my struggle, my joy and my hope, my depression and elation. But the fear is gone at least.

Your love is too thick,
Sethe.

Love is or it isn't, Paul D.
Thin love ain't no love at all.

the first step.

what makes me different from other people? nothing.

Angels with dirty faces.

I remember not to long along, someone asked me if I liked children. I responded by telling them that I indeed do like children. alot. they responded that they would never have guessed, and in fact that they do not believe me. i'm "too serious". ha. you want to know why I love those angels with dirty faces so much? it is the same reason tobacco companies love kids and why gangs think they are pretty keen as well. impressionable. "if you get them young, the possibilities are endless." got that one from "unleashed". great concept, but constantly perverted for less than noble purposes. it is the gift and the curse with children. the same concept that can allow a young child to become fluent in various foreign languages early on in their development is the same concept that can allow that same child to become as fluent in the use of various foreign firearms. helluva balance. that yin/yang thing I suppose. the minds of children are subject to the same bondage as an adults mind. hate, fear, mistrust, ignorance; the same ills that plague us adults plague children. these same ideas that hinder us from acheiving...well pretty much anything, also retard the development of a child. but the bonds are ill-fitting. imagine adult sized handcuffs slid around the wrists of a child. with some effort, they can be removed. and the child is free. those bonds, these bonds, were not meant for children. as they grow older, those cuffs are ever more difficult to remove. until eventually, they never come off. we as adults rely on finding the key to those bonds: let the children grow up in conditions that racehorses would turn their noses up to, and eventually, as adults, we will find the key, free them, stand back in revel in glory as these adults live normal and productive lives. and ride unicorns into the sunset. as the jolly green giant smiles and waves at them. did I mention the road to the sunset was paved in gold? and passes close to the city of Oz? come on people. simply fantastical to beleieve that a person 21 years of age will be so easily reformed. they are used to the bondage at this point. they will fight tooth and nail the attempted removal of the cuffs that ensare their being. so much so they many will find a new set of cuffs. stronger and shinier than the previous pair. and can you blame them? at that point the bonds are now apart of them. if you do not understand, think. how many adult do you know (including yourself) consistently engage in detrimental behavior and run behind the almight phase "I can't help it, that's just me" or my 2003-2005 favorite "I'm doing me" I used to get so pissed at those statements. but it's true. someone that was supposed to slide those chains off at age 7 did no such thing. now we have a lifelong prisoner. conditioned like the dog of pavlov. I'm not trying to remove the chance for adult redemption and rehabilitation. but realize that this world does not take to kindly for adults on the "wrong side of the tracks". not many effective solutions exist on a widespread level. it's pretty much prison from 18 on. we must act as if the chains are not removed in youth, that it is a lost cause. chalk it up to the game. maybe then we will get off our collective asses and do something to save the children from drowning in the waste of the world. I'm not asking that you pull them out. all I ask is that you give them a chance. talk to them. listen to them. expose them to things that would normally be kept from them. take your cousin to a museum. ask the single mothers in your neighborhood if you can be a big brother or sister to their child. give your time to the boys and girls club. fufill a childs wishs for the christmas season. and beyond. give them a fighting chance to grow up free.

everyone should be a bit more like dev.

I was watching Any Given Sunday, and for some reason I began to think about a friend of mine. Devin Heatley. Now, I'm not going to give much backstory. We went to Oberlin together. There is a theme in the movie of unselfishness, the key to being a successful team. When I thought of that, I thought of Dev. Not once can I remember him complaining about the things that went on in his life, and he most certainly did not let it reflect in the way he lived his life. He had to get his knee drained every week, and because of his injury, he couldn't play football, something he loved to do. Something was always wrong with his car. As with any human being, something was always wrong, things to complain about, things to act out about, be upset, angry, moody, stubborn...all of the emotions attached with the human condition. Most of the time, you would never know. He was still Dev. Willing to give you a ride anywhere his car could take you. Talking shit from "caint see at morning to caint see at night". Making "commercials" to pursue his career in advertising. Still always Dev. Ready to listen. Unselfish. I think that was the lesson he was put here to teach those people in his life. For if he let these small problems sour his mood, he would be unable to be Dev, and teach that lesson. It is a lesson that I'm still trying to learn. Being selfish is one of the most detrimental qualities to possess. It makes it hard to have meaningful, healthy relationships with people. It closes your eyes to the biggest action that brings us closer to being who we were meant to be: sacrifice. If you know Devin, look closely. And learn. If you don't, then look at me. I'm trying to follow the blueprint. If you have a Dev in your life, be appreciative for the blessing. Thank you The Dude. (if you read this dev, you can save your laughter for later...bastard)

words from malawi.

"go to the people. live with them. learn from them. love them. start with what they know. build on what they have. but, with the best leaders, when the work is done, the task accomplished, the people will say "We have done this ourselves.""- Lao Tzu

thank you Candice.

riding with michael thomas anderson.

As I ride with Michael Thomas Anderson, I think. Alot. About problems, but more importantly, the solutions. Recently, I've been thinking about black in higher education. Many people look at the number of black women and men in college and smile. We've made to the big leagues, we have access to education. Our predecessors fought for this right, sacrificed and struggled, faced indignities that we could only imagine for the simply right to be respected as a human being, and American citizen. Much love goes to the ones that came before us. As I look around however, I do not believe that this is what they had in mind. As with the characters in Requiem for a Dream, they never thought a little dope and a carefree nature could lead to a arm-stump action, jail, and a man named "Big Tim". Our ancestors could not have forseen this. I'm not talking about the degredation of our women, or the blood-lust that has manifest for the love of material goods. Not the rims, dope boys, 13 year old mommas, glorification of everything negative, the fall of the black family, dead beat daddies, 50 Cent, video-vixens( or their "Confessions"), incarceration rates, baby gangsters, STD rates, modern day minstrels, or Katrina. They knew that the struggle wasn't over for us. What I do not think they could ever fathom is that we, our generation would be unable to combat. Maybe not unable, but most certainly unwilling. Those in the best position to make drastic positive changes, those bright and shiny college student and graduates degreed-up from head to toe, black, lets not forget, seem not to care. Oh, they care enough to go to meeting, talk about the "plight of our people", write some papers, stunt for some peers to be the "intelligent" one. Might even do an intership for a non-profit. And thats where it stops. Somewhere between middle school and college graduation, that essential part of humans that allows them to see themselves as simply a part of a larger community, has been weeded out of them. Selfishness becomes the theme of the rest of their lives. Dress up to be as less threatening as possible so hopefully (please lord, I sho do need this job!) some white person won't be to scared to give them a job. Then its keep your head low, and work until you die. In between, you may raise some kids, look out for your wife or husband, and go to church. Meanwhile, dopefriends nod off on busses, little girls become little mommas, lil' Tavon gets a life bid, inner city neighborhoods die. These are our supposed saviors. I'm thinking that now all that "booklearnin'" gets in the way. There needs to be balance so the black, young and talented never forget. That one bad weekend, and one bad decision, and its you nodding off on the bus, chasing that white horse. Or thats your future daughter going to get WIC. So if you help them, in a way, your helping yourself. And more important, something bigger than yourself.

reprisal

photographs are ways to caputure beautiful moments in time. Because in this life, our focus is so much on the negativity that surrounds us, life's joyous moments often times become very fleeting in our memories. Pictures help us to take hold of those moments in life that give reason to why we live, and make them permenant fixtures in our minds and hearts. I envy dancers, and all those who are artistically inclined. One of my biggest fears is to work doing something I do not love to do for the rest of my life. I look at dancers, artists, actors, musicians with admiration. They have chosen to take a path that unless you become successful, is not rife with abundant material success. Being an artist will never be looked at with the same esteem as being a doctor, unless you become famous. They do it for the love, for the feeling that doing these things give meaning to their existance. It makes them one step closer to being the persons god meant for them to be, because they are doing what they were put here to do. A telemarketer cannot make that same claim. People often hide behind the concept of "doing what they have to do to survive". How are you then different from a hooker who makes the same claim? We all have to do things in order to reach our goals, but in that, never lose sight of the goal that will bring you happiness. On a side note, I heard a young lady ask a guy why does he bring women to his apartment to chill if he's not at the end of the night having sex with them? For this to come from a guy, ok. but a woman? Break out the confetti and the doves, this is the crowning moment of the 2k5 Woman. The hope for redemption is running out.

hey momma. i know you act a fool...

I finished the training for my volunteer coordinator position, and I have been at the actual organization, just for youth, inc. for about 2 weeks now. if you want to know what I do, just ask. as part of my job, I do direct service at local high schools in baltimore. mentoring, tutoring, the whole nine yards. this past friday I was at the ACCE academy in baltimore. a high school that if the kid graduate, they get a full ride to johns hopinks university. yup world famous jhu. you can write your ticket if you graduate and do reasonably well. so one of the girls I just started to mentoring came in the office because she was about to fight. the school has a program called the positive attitude center, which is an alternative to suspension. okay so this 14 year old girl comes in with a heavy attitude, swaying head, hands on hips. all of it. so i attempt to tell her not to fight, why not to fight, how she cannot be an entrenpenur or go to law school with a felony on your record, thats not how adults solve disputes etc. this little girl looked dead at me and said "I don't care what you say, my momma told me to get down for mine" your momma? i was in disbelief. but the principle corroborated the story. so i began to think. before, it was a safe assumption that children were being taught right from wrong at home, on how to behave as a human, and some where on the bus ride from home to school, through walking through the neiborhood, friends, music, you pick the poison, picked up deviant behavior. you could even say that they picked up some of it in the home, through indirect observation. but now, these kids are being taught, taught at home this deviant behavior. it's like "okay, this is how you go to the bathroom, make your lunch, ride on all punk ass kids in your class, and roll blunts in the bathroom. the parents are failing horribly. school, as my cousin brought to my attention, is only meant to reinforce what was learned at home. school is not meant to teach children how to behave, conflict resolution etc. but it is not happening at home anymore. momma had baby at 14, daddy's doing a bid, and BET and the devil's servant 50 cent raises baby. i know the stress bears heavy on momma, she has to work to make sure the family eats. but what does it matter if the child is on the fast track to the state pen? we have to step up, mentor, become a big brother or big sister to help lighten the load. not the children type? donate money, hand out snacks at after-school programs. we have to fill in the blanks that we assume are being filled in at home. if you need idea on how to get involved, just let me know. we can make this better. we have to.

good friends are hard to come by...

And that is why I feel so lucky. In my short lifetime I have come across some great people that have been invaluable to my progression as a person, and have allowed me to be me, no matter how weird, strange or difficult. My next couple of posts will be dedicated to my closest friends, or "the reasons why I have made it this far." In no particular order, just as the mood strikes. to my peoples, this one is for you. (I have a headache right now, so I'll do one a little later on)

sdrow. (grab a mirror)

Be happy. I complain so much about this life that often times I forget the importance of these two words. Be at peace. 3 words that are equally as important. Show love. Back to the 2 word concept. The ability to love may be the greatest gift given to us by God. Be kind. Kind has become synonomous with weak but I do not know why. Kind takes strength, courage, self-sacrifice...actions that cannot be undertaken by the weak. Sacrifice. One word. You know it when you do it because you feel different. Because you are different, something changes in a person when they sacrifice. It's because you've taken one step closer to God. Humble yourself. Humble sounds...humble. It's a very non-chalant word, impossible to say without feeling humbled. Great word. Do something. Instead of thinking about what to do, just do something. Along the way, things will start to make sense. Most importantly. Express yourself. Give to the world the gift you've been holding on to for so long. We need it.

return to innocence lost

I'm going to take a break from getting on my soapbox, making realizations about life, and just talk. I don't know who reads this, but I suppose this entry is more for me than anyone else. I've recently truly made some changes in my life. I've done this before, but I always cheated, backslid a little. So far, no backsliding. Haven't smoked a black or a newport since last thursday. No sex in 9 months. No messing around either. I refuse to partake in subpar female company, so I haven't chilled with a woman for the majority of that time. Old habits are so hard to break, you know? But, sacrifice is the new word for me. Sometimes you have to sacrifice for the sake of others. My smoking saddens my mother deeply, and to see her smile everyday I choose not to smoke makes the irritation worth it. I don't want kids, or some disgusting disease, so celibacy is its own reward. Plus, I'm tired of making God sad. He asks us not to do it, and I think I can oblige him. Let anger go too, not my homeboy anymore. He's like the anti-beautiful. Can't realize the beauty around you when your pissed off and complaining all the time. I saw a little boy walking with his littler(I know thats not a word) brother. Couldn't hear what they were talking about, but he had his arm around him smiling...good enough for me. A snapshot of common beauty. As I've grown older, I have simultaneously become more sarcastic, pessimistic, jaded, upset, worried and frustrated. It affects the way I see things. I'm going back to a simpler time if I can. Can't be innocent anymore, but I'll just look at things like I looked at that boy with his brother.

"just think...

you're here not by chance, but by god's choosing. His hand formed you and made you the person you are. He compares you to no one else- you are one of a kind. You lack nothing that his grace can't give you. He has allowed you to be here at this time in history to fullfill his special purpose for this generation." Roy Lessin

the devil's daughter

Now, believe me, I know this seems weird. For one, I just posted yesterday and one look at the title will make the average person say "Huh?". But hear me out and let me share a dream I have just awoken from. Okay, I was in a college dorm room with some people, I have no idea who they were and these two women were dancing in the middle of the room with each other. Curiosity struck me, and I asked who they were. The one in the front stated as plain as day, that she was the devil's daughter. Okay, the girl child of satan? I was skeptical. So, a decision I would later regret, I asked her how did I know it was her? So, while still grinding on this girl, she casually looked over and showed me herself. It was a slow change, but as the seconds passed, I can't explain what I saw. All I can tell you that it was horrible, and I really do wish I had taken her word for it. The rest of the dream happened like a movie, but I only remember a few key moments. So now I was in this dorm room with the devil's daughter, with her human facade, for 3 days. During this time period she tempted me, tried kissing on me and such (I mean, come on, she showed me what was beneath that pretty mask, and it wasn't sugar and spice), offering me material goods (new shoes as far as the eye could see)which I resisted. It felt like she cursed me when ever I turned it down, for I became deathly ill, and I entered a mode of never ceasing prayer. People were there helping me with my symptoms, but I could never focus on the faces...except for one: Elias Rodriguez, a guy I met at my job this summer. She would come back to the room and just talk, trying to tear me down I suppose. On the last day, I was in a dining hall all of a sudden, me and one end, and dd (I abbreviated it) at the other. She was reading a book about us, all about us, from our history to our biology. I asked her if she knew much about us, and she said no, she knew some, but she was coming here to learn more. Then she dissapeared without a trace. Then I was watching a movie of a party. Young black people gone wild, I mean, this party was bananas. All kinds of thing were going on. I started to intently watch this movie, and focus in on certain...acts. The second I did, I felt a light scratch on my arm. Then I woke up. That was my wake up call. Even if it was not divine inspiration that caused that dream, and it was my own guilty sub-concious, it was enough. It's time for me to do what I know I should have done a long time ago, stop playing and live for God. Read his word, pray constantly, turn away from sin at all costs, and live the life God has set forth for me. Because, it getting that bad, no more room for straddling the fence. God needs his people more than ever. Just open your eyes and look around and you'll know why. The movie at the end I believe was to show how easily it is to slip right back into temptation.The fuuny thing about the devil (and his daughter, who would have known) is that at first, they don't seem horrible. She wasn't the most outwardly evil person in the world( I've met meaner people right her on earth) during her temptation stage. But when I resisted, jeez, things got super ugly. This isn't to convert anyone or make anyone feel guilty, this is the path that I have to walk. Just wanted to let you know, so you can pray for me. And if you care for me, hold me accountable, check me, and please do not bring temptation to my doorstep. I'm not trying to get visited again by the anti-dime.

there she goes...my beautiful world.

I find myself always commenting on how imperfect my surroundings are. I can expose the flaws, and come up with some solutions, but that forced me to think...do I know what my ideal world would look like? I have some ideas. People wouldn't take so much, and give more to the communities they are apart of. Lots of trees, and clear skies. Bikes would be the primary mode of travel (even though I can't ride one), cut down on pollution, the worry over gas prices and general stress levels I hope would drop. People would respect each other in most instances, and just be more friendly. The issues that face people would be made of pinnacle importance, not just those of the rich. Education would not be used as a vehicle to gain greater material wealth, but to enrich the general livelihood of the populace. T.V.'s would only show the Discovery Channel, the History Channel, Sporting Events, and my favorite movies. Everyone would be encouraged to write about a book about their lives and placed in the public library. People would love God as much he loves them. My friends and I would have a live talk show that traveled from state to state, with a special 3 minute debate session between ronald, mike brown, chris ikpoh, sar and crestwell. There is more I could say, but there's no need. The beauty of the thought of it is enough. my wonderful world.

freedom isn't free

Last night, I was confronted with the first circumstance where a person that wasn't black called me a nigger. And a porch-monkey, eastside porch monkey to be exact. The 2 minute version of the situation: my people ordered a pizza to be delivered, and 1.5 hours later, no pizza. Then they called for order to be cancelled. Somehow, this never was relayed to the delivery driver, who called to say that he was outside with the pizza. My friends then told the delivery driver that the order was cancelled a hour ago. We continue about our evening, when around 2am, the pizza shop (PIZZAN'S to be exact) called my friend phone, calling him all kinds of niggers, porch monkey, trying to set up a "rumble" where he would "bust our nigger heads". Now a part of my wanted to take him up on this offer, meet him and settle this phyiscally. But, I knew how this story ended, some black male sitting in jail. So I did what white people have been doing for years, I called the damn police. While the police were in the apartment, the pizza shop called back, so the police were able to hear first hand his comments. Now, I know the police probably didn't lock him up, because people look out for their own. The police still are not friends of the underrepresented, and I do not expect this to change. But now, we have a police report, which can be made into flyers, with irrefutable evidence of his racism. No "there go those black pulling the race card again", we have proof now. Now its time to sacrifice. It would be easier to let this slide, write it off and move on. But freedom isn't free. It requires time, effort, energy, and often times blod and tears. All of which I am willing to sacrifice. It's time to stand up and ride for the causes important to us. Force people to take notice of the injustices around us AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. No more talk. Can't talk your way into freedom...

"nobody wants to be a junkie when they grow up" part deux

There is a segment of our society that undervalued and underappreciated, exploited and abused on a daily basis. Their constitutional are constantly under duress, teetering on the edge of non-existence. Most do nothing to protect their rights; for they feel as a result of their actions, they have reneged on any claim to enjoy the rights guaranteed to them by the constitution. These are the convicted felons of our society. Now, I have to check myself and not go off on this tangent about the prison system, and the inherent inequality of our judicial system.
The main point is that we believe that once we release a person from jail, they have free will concerning the choices they make, which isn't true. Of course no one is holding the proverbial pistol to their heads and forcing them to engage in illegal activity. However, we as a society make it near impossible for a person with a criminal record to find employment. Most human resource professionals will tell you that if that little box on the application is checked concerning a prior conviction, they toss that paper in the "Do Not Call" bin. So, with the legitimate channels for employment shut down, what are they left with? Onion rings my friend. Where is the free will? The choice to return to the deviant behavior is far too attractive while the choice to engage in acceptable activities is like finding a candy-coated unicorn. It's not happening. All I'm saying is that if we acknowledge the simple fact that life decisions are not as simple as choosing a side order for our burgers, then maybe our society as a whole can gain more empathy towards those whose choices are limited for one reason or another.

black is the color of my true love's hair

we've given up as a people. We've stopped caring. As much as black people purport to be a tough, take no nonsense sort of people, we take more shit than any other race. Someone, that looks just like us, colored skin and kinky hair, looks at us too long, and we're ready to send that man to the afterlife. However, white people (or any people for that matter, we've become easy targets for every race) makes a feature length film lampooning us, making minstrels out of us, hoes out of our women, ignorant idiots out of our men, bastards out of our children...and we laugh. Where is the anger, that bold anger that makes black men fight each other in the club? Or the anger that makes our black sisters tear down each other for the sake of appearances?Do we only save it to destroy ourselves? Where is the righteous anger that allowed slaves, stripped of all vestiges of humanity, to say no more, and revolt against those who oppressed them? Some one has to get furious and not let it slide. No more laughing at mockeries of ourselves. No more nodding our heads to songs that portray us as animals. No more pounds when a man proclaims a black woman to be a whore. Or dumb ass t-shirts with dumb ass slogans "Money, Power, Respect". Get angry, and use this anger to fuel the fire for change. Do something please. Say something please. Volunteer, start a newsletter, focus that anger into positivity. Realize that the world we are living in is slowly dying, that we are constantly being pushed further and further to the fringe, and we are laughing the whole way. What are you going to do to save us? Love being black enough to bring our dignity back.

reminisce over you.

I just want to take the time to remember a friend of mine, Christopher Brandon Weaver, who was taken far too soon from this planet. You have people who are nice for recoginition, and those who are nice, because they don't know any other way to treat people. When a person dies, we can never forget what they mean to us. Think about it everyday, how they impacted our lives, so we can remember to impact the lives of those around us.

Everyone is a punk...on the inside.

fear: I believe, at heart, most individuals are cowards. I do not know if this fear is inherent, or taught to us an early age. As we are growing up, we are taught to fear before we are taught to confront and deal. Our parents do this for they feel this is the best way for them to protect us from the world, a fear that will be in place and guide our actions even when we are not in their immediate realm of influence. A fear that will be with us as we grow out of adolescence into adulthood, and a fear that we will pass on to our children. However, at some point we are taught courage; however this is a harder sell, a more difficult concept to grasp and apply to our lives. Maybe this is because we are sold the benefits of fear first. Bravery and courage are highly touted concepts in our society, especially for men. These two concepts define us, and how we are judged as men. Our willingness to never back down from a challenge, to defend our manhood at all costs, these concepts are more precious than gold. The fragile male ego is made so through the foundation of fear that it is built upon. The fear of being viewed as less of a man in the eyes of both men and women alike has driven the most timid of souls to the most extreme of actions. Homicides have occurred as a result of this fear, along with the countless young lives committed to a life lived in penal institutions across the country. All because we are afraid. We try to temper the fear through self-medication with noxious products such and alcohol and drugs. Young people drink, in part, to assuage the fears of stepping into adolescence and adulthood. To first approach a person of the opposite sex can at first be a daunting task, however made all the easier with the consumption of alcohol. Anger also becomes a method of pacifying the fear. People embrace anger like it’s the last emotion they will ever feel, not because they are truly that upset, but that it keeps the fear at bay. My point: we need not to fear the world around us, along with it, its bedfellow anger, and unchecked aggression leads to destruction. Need an example? Just open your eyes.

"no one says they want to be a junkie when they grow up"...and your right.

Options. Our visible world is predicated on this fantasy. American prides itself on this fantastical concept. It’s even infected our burger joints… “Have it your way”. Well, let me shed some light on this overrated and under scrutinized concept. It’s utter bullshit. I know my words seem a bit…caustic, but I have reason. Free will is based on the concept of choice, being able to choose between two “things”, either tangible or conceptual. The assumption is that both of these “things” are equally attainable. In other words, no matter which one is ultimately chosen, once the choice is made, the likelihood of acquiring it is the same. We make this assumption for good reason. We go to said burger joint, and they ask us “Onion rings or fries?” Simple enough question, and in turn, a simplistic response follows. There is little to no consequence in the choice, for the exception of the inevitable doubt of how the item not chosen would taste with that greasy burger. The only effort involved is saying your choice, and they are equally as easy to say, I mean onion rings is two words, as opposed to fries, which is one, but damn, no one cares. Now, let’s say if you chose fries, you would have to give up a finger in order to get them. Any finger of your choosing, but a digit nonetheless. The choice is still there, your free will seemingly intact. But let’s be honest. One choice is so damn unattractive; it might as well not even exist. You could give up the finger, and paw over your fries you 4 fingers and a fresh nub, but who would want to? It is no longer a feasible option. I’m over technicalities, so I don’t want to hear it. You have one choice: those onion rings. Now, this isn’t a problem per se, but it needs to be acknowledged. As long as we have this romanticized view of free will, we cannot see the situation for what it is, and interact with it realistically. My point: we often look at certain individuals in our society, the poor, drug-addicts, and state that they chose this life for themselves, so why help? And it's never that simple big homie.