"soft peter"

"The Matrix is everywhere. It is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work... when you go to church... when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth." - morpheus

I was talking to my old man recently about his Army years. He was a member of the 82nd Airborne division at Fort Bragg during the Vietnam war. In fact, he had orders to go to Vietnam. But a drunken driver broad-sided him in a pretty serious collision less than 48 hours before he shipped out; leaving him with a broken collar bone and concussion, ultimately keeping him out of the war. He fulfilled his two year commitment to the Army by jumping out of airplanes and training, you know, life on an Army base. Recently when he was reminiscing on those days, he shared something with me I had never heard before. He was telling me about how they'd start each day with 5 mile runs in Army boots. Then they'd eat. They'd do field drills. Then they'd eat. They'd run some more, do more drills, man their posts, etc. Then they'd eat. A barrack full of testosterone driven men, outside of a few skirmishes, getting along pretty well and sleeping in close proximity of each other every night, with no problems? What's wrong with this picture? My old man said, it was pretty common knowledge that every time they ate, something was being slipped into their food. Most thought it was being put into the potatoes since potatoes were served at every meal. It was a little substance the soldiers referred to as "soft peter". Let's just say, "soft peter" kept their nature down. No sexual frustration meant fewer fights. And most importantly, it meant the barracks that houses all those men at night, felt more like a male dorm, than a prison block.

This got me to thinking. If this is a common practice of the Army, what kind of "soft peter" is the government slipping to the masses? No, I'm not implying they are literally putting something in our food (i'm also not saying they aren't). But maybe instead of trying to keep our nature down, they have a vested interest in keeping our anger repressed. Think about your family and friends. There is a war going on RIGHT NOW. How often do you hear them complain about it, or even talk about it for that matter? Now, on the flip side. How often do you hear them talk about their favorite tv show? The finale of American Idol? Their favorite sports team? Or what they bought on sale at the mall? People, we are being distracted. We're being fed a daily dose of "soft peter" in the form of television entertainment and news half truths. American culture has allowed a handful of people to enjoy a manufactured existence called fame and celebrity. That carrot is dangled in front of us every day, slowly hypnotizing us into living vicariously through people whose lifestyles, for all sense and purposes aren't even real. And the allure is so strong, that most people would much rather tune into Entertainment Tonight, than the evening world news report. Why? Out of sight, out of mind. Which makes me think, maybe it's time we start taking a closer look at what's really going on.



"Either war is obsolete or men are." - R. Buckminster Fuller

War is brutally ugly. It's mere presence is so startling, that even if it forces you to look away, it begs an emotional response, an investment of thought. So far 4,000 U.S. men and women have died in Iraq. And that's doesn't even count those who died in Afghanistan. But that's only part of the story my friend. Soldiers from other nations, who are apart of the Iraqi Coalition have died there too. So have Iraqi soldiers, along with innocent men, women, and children. But every day, our news outlets give our ugly war a makeover. Instead of amputees and body bags, we see images of healthy soldiers or a president sitting behind a desk talking about "progress". We see the story about the healthy soldier reuniting with his family in a nearby airport. But we never see the guy who lost his legs, in that moment when his family sees him for the first time. And we never see the guy with the nervous twitch who has the bad nightmares, whose family feels like they don't know him anymore, and aren't safe around him. Sure, we know how much money the war has cost America. But we'll never be able to measure how much it's damaged the reputation of our country, or the lives of families on both sides of the Atlantic ocean. Even sadder, so few of us have seen the ugly side of this current war, that although the war has been going on for five plus years, most of us have yet to make a sizeable emotional or intellectual investment. Well my friends, it's time we do.

Something is in our food. It's in our music. It's in our television programs. It was put there by our government to dupe us. To keep us distracted and passive. Everything from Britney Spears on the front of grocery aisle magazines to 50 Cent and his latest beef rants. Even the gas prices and fading economy are designed to make our living experience so arduous, that we'll choose to escape that reality, any time we can. And thoughts about the government, and unjust wars, will be pushed into places so far in the back of our minds, that they will cease to no longer matter. My advice. Stop eating what they're feeding you so willingly. Digest something different. Something real. With any luck, your numbed senses will become acute again. And when they do, you'll start to see and experience the world, free from the affects of "soft peter". Then you'll get mad. Mad enough to organize. Mad enough to demand a change. Maybe even mad enough to strategically create a resistance to force a change. Now that's the kind of world I want to live in. One luv.

dating: the survival game

“At such moments, you realize that you and the other are, in fact, one. It's a big realization. Survival is the second law of life. The first is that we are all one.” - Joseph Campbell

Dating is a dirty dirty game. I'm not saying you'll need to develop super powers to make it, but make no mistake, it's rough out there and survival is key. And survival means having a survival code. Below are my rules that help me survive the game, where the getters get, and the naive get got. Enjoy.

(by the way, these rules were written from a male's perspective, but for the most part, they hold true for women as well)

1. EVERYBODY HAS SOMEBODY.

No one is truly alone. Everyone has someone in their life. Sometimes it's not the person they want in their life, but everyone has someone. Upon meeting someone new, ask them if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend, and they'll most likely tell you, no; which may be true. But it doesn't mean they don't have "somebody". Maybe it's somebody they are trying to get rid of. Maybe it's somebody they can call when they want to go out for a movie or dinner. Maybe it's the booty call somebody, or the friends with benefits somebody. Or maybe it's somebody they're trying to get, or somebody trying to get them. Just remember, just because someone says they are single, and is spending time with you, never think you're the only one, because everybody has somebody.


2. THAT "FRIEND" AIN'T JUST A FRIEND

Is there such thing as a platonic friend? Yes, I have a few. However, most women (and some guys) DON'T. What most women call "friends", are exes, or homie/lover/friends. It's without fail. If he's calling and texting early in the morning, or late at night, that's not a friend, that's a "friend". You know, the one she meets for breakfast or lunch all the time, that guy she has an emotional reaction to when he calls like, "geez, what does he want?". She'll never in a hundred years admit to it. But they have been together. Therefore, always protect your feelings. When dating someone, assume that friend that is closer than close, has truly been closer than close. Long term it will protect you from being shocked, or feeling misled when the truth does surface.


3. YOUR FEELINGS COME FIRST

If you're good people, like myself, it's easy to do what good people do, put other's feelings before your own. If you feel yourself trying to get in someone else's head, wondering how they are feeling, STOP! Don't do that. That kind of stuff comes down the line once you're IN a relationship. But when you're dating, your feelings come first. If you don't like something, don't deal with it. If you train yourself to NOT listen to your likes and dislikes, you'll end up in a deep relationship with someone you didn't really want to be with in the first place.

4. PAY ATTENTION TO PATTERNS.

When you're getting to know someone, you'll notice people are very true to their patterns, when they are telling the truth. When their patterns switch up, that's when they are doing something shady. For example, I know from years of experience, when women are digging a guy, they share more information than they have to. You'll be on the phone with her, and she'll click over, then she'll click back and say..."that was just my friend Nicole". Or maybe it's, "that was just Mom". Then one day the phone will click, and she'll click back and won't say anything. Guess what, that other dude just called. Then it's "hey, let me take this call". And when she calls back, she will most certainly make no mention of that call. Yeah, that was "the other guy". How do you deal with that? Reciprocity. I'm not saying play games, I'm saying share no more information than is being shared. Click over, or even get off the phone so you can "take this call" as well. It's simple, do unto others, but don't get done by others being shady with how they do unto you.

5. BEWARE OF BUSY PEOPLE.

Busy people are cool to meet, difficult to get to know, and even harder to maintain something with. Why? Because most busy people use busy to their advantage. We all have jobs and responsibilities. We all have family and friends and try our best to manage our time and maintain those relationships. But don't fall for the okie-doke. After people establish they are a "busy" person, they tend to use busy like it's a huge curtain they can disappear behind to do who or what they really want to be doing. "Sorry I haven't hit you up in a week, I've been busy". Or how about this one, "I meant to shoot you an email, but I was too busy". The truth is, I'm a busy person too, so yeah, I know how it is to be running a thousand miles per hours in all directions. But, I also know people make time for things they really want to make time for. It takes 10 seconds to write an email or send a text message. Takes an even shorter amount of time to dial a number. So when people don't answer your emails, don't answer your texts, or don't return your phone calls because they 're busy--that's the perfect time to get busy kicking rocks. Either they are truly too busy for you (doubt it), or they are busy pursuing who they'd really rather be with. That's cool too, it's all in the game. But never get caught chasing somebody who ain't chasing you back.

6. KEEP IT REAL

There is no excuse for dating someone under false pretenses. Be bluntly honest always. "Look, I enjoy kicking it with you, but I still want to date other people". Just like that, expectations are maintained. You'd be surprised how easily it is to clear the air and prevent a bunch of drama, just by keeping it real. Unfortunately, most people NEVER keep it real. So even if you are honest enough to put it all out there, don't expect the person you're dating to do the same. A lot of people are just programmed to be sneaky--to keep a little truth for themselves. But if you choose to go that route, don't think the other person is Boo-Boo the fool. They know. They probably just don't care, or aren't speaking on it because they're doing their thing on the side too. It's all in the game I guess. But why play those games? Even after you know you like someone, that doesn't mean you ONLY like them. Embrace the process of getting to know someone, and don't invest solely into one person until you know that's what they are really trying to do with you as well.

7. STAY COOL FOOL

Your emotions are valuable, don't waste them. Don't allow yourself to be baited into silly arguments or mind f*cks. You can not blame someone for not being, or not acting like you want them to. You can only blame yourself for continuing to deal with it. So do yourself a favor, don't play this game with emotions. Keep your poker face on until you reach a much deeper point with that person where you feel like you can truly trust them. Then and only then should you think about revealing the deeper layers of you.

8. END IT THE WAY YOU STARTED IT

We put so much care and energy into how we begin situations. We go out of our way to be kind, courteous, and charismatic. We display a level of humanity that tells someone we're good people. So why do we become people who don't give a f*ck when it's time for things to end? Things happen. People make mistakes, and so do we. But the world is small, so don't burn bridges. We invite people into our lives putting our best feet forward, so don't go showing your ass when it's time to kick them to the curb. Maintain that kindness. Maintain that honesty. And be compassionate. This is a person you may never have to see again, or it may be someone you have to still see every day. Either way, the last thing you want is someone with negative energy towards you floating around in the world. When you end it on a good note, your name, stays your name. You don't have to worry about it being tarnished. Besides, there's this little thing called Karma that has a way of coming for you when you least expect it.

Aight, that's all I have for you. Use it or don't use it, that's on you. Just understand, sometimes the game is actually more checkers than chess. Sometimes the game is not about capturing "the queen" or "the king". Sometimes, the game is about survival--not about getting, more about not getting got. Navigate the board correctly, avoid the traps, and just like that, even you, a simple piece on the board, can get to be The King. One luv.

enough, kwame!

"Busted is what you see!" - Kwame Kilpatrick

Black men, black men, black men. Damn, we can't win. It's bad enough the local news starts with the whole scary black man image every night, something along the lines of; armed black male suspect at large. But lately even the NATIONAL news is leading with a "black man gone wrong" story. And no, I'm not talking about Pacman "make it rain" Jones or Michael "shoot'em in the head or drown'em" Vick. I'm not even talking about (insert rapper name here) with his umpteenth drug possession or gun charge. At least with those black men, when they make the news, even if it's surprising, it's not exactly shocking. And your rational mind can easily wrap itself around the fact that those black men may just be young and dumb. So when you walk into your neighborhood barber shop, you don't feel so bad laughing about their situations when you jokingly say, "the cornrolls made him do it!" But what about when the black man under scrutiny has no excuse? When he comes from a good family, is well educated and from a very early age, has been groomed to be, somebody. When THAT black man gets in trouble and disappoints us REPEATEDLY, over a period of years, it's a much tougher pill to swallow. And when he smugly tries to act as if he can tell us any ole thing like we're dummies, or that the office of mayor is his birth right, that's when the brothaly thing to do, is not to be a sympathizer. The brothaly thing to do is light his ass up the way we would anyone else trying to bamboozle us.

I'm all for the brotha-brotha love thing. I know how it is. We're all functionally trying to make our way out of our own dysfunction, and as a black man, no matter who you are, there tends to be a lot of dysfunction. So when outsiders try to tear us down, we should all attempt to stand up for each other, especially when we begin to rise to levels of power and notoriety. I'm not saying I condone the actions of black men who do wrong. I'm saying I accept apologies, and give people the same kind of second chances I'd hope to get if I made a some major mistakes in my life. No, it really isn't easy being a black man in America, that's why I root for my brothas; that's why I rooted for Kwame. He was elected mayor of Detroit a few years after I arrived here. At the time, I thought Detroit was a pretty damn progressive city to give a young black man the top spot. I thought it said a lot about the people here, and what kind of energy they were hoping to infuse the city with. Instead of going with candidates far older, and with more of a traditional approach, they went with the prodigy, the guy they viewed as the future of Detroit. Well, a zillion scandals later, if Kwame is the future of Detroit, what a bleek pernicious future that is. Since he's been in office, despite being responsible for a slight facelift of downtown Detroit, the majority of his stay has been one minor misstep after another, culminating in a few major ones.

Arrogance is a powerful substance. When applied in heavy enough doses, it actually has the uncanny ability to make people think their shit does not stink. And when you're in that delusional state, not only do you shit privately, you shit openly, boldly, and carelessly. Why not? If you're so convinced your shit doesn't stink, it only makes sense to think it won't stink to other people as well, right? Well, Detroit recently got another huge whiff of Kwame's shit, and let's just say, it's not as minty fresh as ole boy seemed to think it was. Yesterday Kwame Kilpatrick was indicted on 8 counts of felony charges, including perjury, obstruction of justice, and office misconduct. But none of this comes as a shot in the dark, more like a money shot in the dark. That's right, I'm referring to his textual eruptions, with his chief of staff, Christine Beaty. The same Christine Beaty he lied about sleeping with under oath, in a civil case that cost Detroit over 9 million dollars. 9 million dollars for a civil case that started with an alleged party, dead strippers, and unlawfully firing deputy chief Gary Brown. See, because I support my brotha, I can forgive my brotha. But I know my brotha knows better, because I know better. And what's obvious to me is, what's best for Detroit, is something, or somebody, who can do the job better, than my brotha.

What's next for brotha Kwame? Besides trying to stay out of prison--oh yeah, he still has to do that little thing called running the city of Detroit. How you juggle both full time boggles my mind, but our brotha is convinced he can do it. Just yesterday he smugly looked into cameras saying "I'll be exonerated 100%". Who knows, maybe he will in a court of law. But in the court of brothaly opinion, I'm done with him. I think he is guilty of not keeping it real, lying repeatedly, and continually not living up to the high personal standard we set for him. I'm not here to judge his personal life. And even with the situations he may have gotten himself into, I still rooted for him to correct those mistakes. But when you represent a city, and your image, the image of a black man, becomes THE image of the city, you owe that city and all of the people in it the highest standard of excellence. After all, you were groomed for that high standard of excellence Kwame. And when you make a mistake, you show contrition, real honest heartfelt, your grandmama just shamed you contrition. You don't blame the white media. You don't blame the suburbs. You don't blame anyone. You just own up to your part in the mistake, and keep it moving, like a real brotha should. You meet and greet people with open arms, and you go to work hard, every day. In the end, you prove community excellence outweighs missteps and personal shortcomings. That's how a real brotha would have done it; how brotha Kwame SHOULD have done it. But he didn't. So now brothas like me, who rooted for him are left with four simple heartfelt words for our brotha. Enough, brotha Kwame, enough. One luv.

welcome my man darrell to the net,

nigganalysis

the tiger years

(the Columns and Jesse Hall @ The University of Missouri-Columbia)

"one day it'll all make sense" - common

In college, I was somebody...I barely remember now. This nonchalant, too cool for school guy. His overall outlook on life is fuzzy to me, but I definitely used to be him. He wore bright white tennis shoes, kept a gold herringbone chain gripped loosely around his neck, and made sure he had the cleanest/shiniest car on campus hands down. Always waxed, Black Magic always on the tires. That kind of sh*t actually mattered to him. He was kind of quiet, never the rah-rah type, but if you got to know him, you'd be like "ole boy is cool people." And if I showed you pictures of him back then, you'd be like, "yeah man, that's you". But the truth is, nah, that's not me, that's him. See, in the twelve years since I graduated, I've changed. Not like Winter into Spring. More like night into a brand new day. In fact, I've changed so much that, although I remember most of what I did in college, I really have a hard time remembering who I was. I remember laughing a lot, but was I laughing with people, or at people? I remember being low key, but was it because I was in my own world, or because didn't care to be in your world? And for all those people I passed on the yard every day who I locked eyes with briefly without having any exchange, was it because I wasn't on their radar, or because they weren't on mine? I'll probably never know those answers. The interesting part is that I'm even asking myself these questions. Recently, for the first time in ages, I was confronted with my college days...my Tiger years. And it has me rexamining how I remember myself, as well as how others remember me.

Two weeks ago, I'm at work chillin. Phone rings. I answer. "Corey, go to this website!". Umm, hello to you too homie. It was my girl Naomi sounding like she was going to jump through my phone and type out the URL for me. I must admit, I was skeptical. University of Missouri Black Alumni website? Hmmm. In theory, it was a great idea, a place to reunite old friends and serve as a networking tool for old alums. But would people really participate and share, or would they sign up and never put any energy into growing the site? Or better yet, would it be like back in the day, everybdy all cliqued up in their own little circles, never fully embracing the opportunity to explore this small community? Surprisingly, everyone seemed to jump right in, head first.

There's something pretty cathartic about getting to say hello to people again. Or just seeing what they've become. I can honestly say I'm happy to find out what successful family and business people my classmates have become. Graduating was like turning my back on everything I've ever known and climbing a mountain in search of a better life. And finding this site was like reaching the top of that mountain only to find everything and everyone I thought I had left behind, sitting right there at the top. I guess we all chose to move in different directions, yet in our own ways, we all made it. Putting oceans between you and your past reminds you life isn't so much about the destination, but the journey. And I definitely respect my classmates journey, as well as my own. We all went through tremendous hardships, sacrifices, and loss to get here, but nonetheless, we're here. That's why I can cruise the website clean, no longer mad at anyone who ever wronged me back in the day. It's also why I can relink with those I considered friends and embrace those I never really got to know with open arms. The truth is, I'm different, and so are they. None of us can probably remember who we were back in the day, or all the trivial stuff that happened. And for many, they simply don't want to. And that's cool. Because who we are today, is all that really matters.

During my time on the website, I've smiled, laughed, and enjoyed revisiting old places that live as dusty memories in my mind. Whether it's seeing the face of an old crush who will never know I secretly liked her as much as I did, or finding out some former knucklehead is the father of three, it really is just good to see people after all this time. Reading people's comments, and listening to them share memories of me has also helped me understand something important. I might not remember who I was back in the day, but they do. And according to them, I wasn't so drastically flawed after all. By their accounts I was funny, charismatic, and brought a lot of joy into people's lives. Yeah, it feels good to have matured to the point where I can look back at myself with the wisdom of an old owl perched high above in a tree. But it also feels good to realize that even when I was young and dumb, in the quietest most insecure stage of my life, when I was making tons of mistakes--at my essence, I was good people. That's something to be proud of. I mos def like who I am today, but thanks to my alumni website, I've also learned, I got love for who I used to be as well. Funny, suddenly it all makes sense.

One luv.

MLK (the martyr)

"Any real change implies the breakup of the world as one has always known it, the loss of all that gave one an identity, the end of safety. And at such a moment, unable to see and not daring to imagine what the future will now bring forth, one clings to what one knew, or dreamed that one possessed. Yet, it is only when a man is able, without bitterness or self-pity, to surrender a dream he has long cherished or a privilege he has long possessed that he is set free — he has set himself free — for higher dreams, for greater privileges."

- james baldwin

barack and hillary: a lesson in music

"Our goal is to have a country that's not divided by race. And my impression, as I travel around the country, is that that's the kind of country that most people want, as well, and that we all have prejudice, we all have certain suspicions or stereotypes about people who are different from us, whether it's religious or racial or ethnic, but what I think I found in the American people, I think there's a core decency there, where if they take the time, if they get the time to know individuals, then they want to judge those individuals by their character." - barack obama

The beauty of Barack Obama, in many ways, is very much what made Prince such a powerful and intriguing figure. No, with brotha Barack there's no lace, no four inch pumps, or endless parade of light skin singer/sluts. But what Barack does have in common with his purple badness is an image and sound that appeals to white America, while maintaining a certain level of authenticity with black America. If you go back to the height of Prince's career, he was able to win over black people without ever overtly catering to them. Prince made music, that happened to be black. But he never made black music. Prince's music always seemed to stretch the box of the typical black radio station format rather than fit perfectly into it. In fact, he created the Time and Vanity 6 as a way for him to do black music, because his solo stuff wasn't specific enough. Also, Prince made us think of the greats, Jimmy, James Brown, Jackie Wilson. Their voices all existed within his. In many ways, Prince always felt like the one we had been waiting for. The guy who could outsing the singers, out dance the dancers, and get as nasty on a guitar as any white boy in a rock band. Enter Barack Obama, like Prince, he has a mixed hertitage. His skin says he's black, his genes say he's very much something else as well. He has a smoothness about him that no one else seems to have. He can out talk the talkers, out common man the politicians, and still be a politician without leaving the common feeling left out. And he seems like the next great. Like a person of the same ilk as Malcolm, Martin, and JFK. His journey feels, predestined if you will. See, these aspirational type figures appeal to the idealism of white America , especially when they don't directly take on the topics of race. Prince was on some flower child unity sh*t, and Barack is on that everybody aboard, today's the perfect day to make a change thing. They seem to transcend race, without ever compromising their blackness. It would appear, on the surface at least, that Barack and Prince are somewhat the same brotha. The right sound, coupled with the right face, at just the right time.



Maybe Hillary Clinton is Teena Marie to Barack's Prince. You know, the white singer who gets black acceptance because she can hit the high notes. But can she? Or does she simply get a pass cause her husband Bill (Rick James), hit all the right notes and made it easier for people to except her as his protege? So far, it's yet to be seen. But lately, whenever you see Hillary Clinton, she's standing in front of a black choir, in front of a black audience, or in front of some non secular black leaders. It's like Teena coming out on stage for the first time standing in front of Rick's band. Even before she hits the first note, nobody is questioning her because of the people standing behind her. Hmmm. After taking New Hampshire, maybe Hillary is proving she can hit a note or two. And unlike Teena Marie who ONLY had a black following, Hillary appeals even more so to whites. Okay, so let's rethink this. Maybe Hillary is actualy more like Christina Aguillera, a white pop queen lusting to show black folks she can get down and dirty too. Either way, you get the point. Ultimately, black people will definitely support a white girl who can sang, and they'll also stand up in droves for someone they feel is the second coming. I think who gets the Deomorcratic nod will be less about who has the best album, and more about who can drop the hotter singles, Prince or Christina? Based on the last batch of singles by these two, I'd say this political race is still very much up for grabs. One luv.

youtube videos of the year

I love youtube.com! It's where you can find your favorite cinematic moments, hip hop videos, the latest dance craze, or some random weird video. Well, I've probably watched thousands of youtube.com videos this year, so I thought I'd post my ten favorite. Feel free to post some of your favorite stuff in the comments. Peace.

10) Crank Dat Jumprope

There were tons of crank dat dances this year, but this one is by far my favorite. These little dudes are creative as hell.



9) Deadly Adventures Internet Gangsta Edition

This is so timely and so true. lol



8) Flea Market Montgomery

You gotta respect my man's gangsta, local tv commercials will never be the same again.



7) Unforgiveable

This young man got issues! This is what happens when a little brotha starts playing "I wanna be a pimp."



6) The N-Word

The n-word was a hot topic this year, and this was a humorous take on the whole situation.



5) Sensual Seduction

Doggy Dogg is a fool for this one....sit back and enjoy!



4) Looking Ass Nikkuh!

This has to be the most ingnit-est song I ever heard...but it's kind of funny and brilliant in its own way. lol



3) Pay Roll Da Pimp vs. Ice T

"I see you got your Halloween hand strong." Enough said. lol Unfortunately it's not embedded.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=2Yv3qcLERJs

2) Penis Power

This sista is wild and scorned and a little crazy. But don't sleep ladies, you might learn something.



1) "Oh, You Mad Cause I'm Stylin On You"

Before you say this to somebody, get your weight up! Ouch!

from me to you

peace family.

this year was a tough year, but a good year.

it was challenging in a way that reminded me, none of us gets through this thing alone. we need each other. you all represent a piece of me, no matter how tiny or how large; from lifelong fixtures, to distant acquaintances, my every day circle, to budding new friendships.

despite the distance, frequency with which we talk or see each other, or even our fall-ins or fall-outs, i value you all equally.

each phone call, email, text, drink, bite to eat, and smile was invaluable, and you’ll never know just how much it meant to me.

thank you.

so, instead of celebrating unnecessary gift giving this time of year, let’s celebrate the road traveled.

the uphill climbs, the obstacles we overcame, the people we lost along the way, and the ones we’re grateful to still have with us.

let’s celebrate unforeseen blessings, and new beginnings.

let’s celebrate the challenge to get better, love harder, forgive quicker, and live longer.

let’s celebrate the fact that we’re still here, and that there’s still time to say the unsaid.

let’s celebrate peace and abundance in the world, while being mindful of all those at war, and all those stranded in poverty.

let’s celebrate wisely and safely. because in ‘08, i look forward to moving forward with each one of you.

happy holidays, peace.

zeitgeist

WATCH THIS MOVIE.

MAKE YOUR FAMILY WATCH IT.

MAKE YOUR FRIENDS WATCH IT.

THEN, LET'S TAKE BACK THE WORLD TODAY.

ZEITGEIST

bang...

the world spins and people die like when a gun revolves
i guess life’s a murder mystery that goes unsolved
cheating death with every sun i watch rise to the crest
steady beats of broken flesh resonate in my chest
am i an angel with unseen wings, am i death
a righteous life, an evil demon, or the last man left
i’m writing for right, i sip long, at night i zone
then type songs to fight those who siding with wrong
from intuition and spidey senses, my body twitches
rarely believe, therefore i’m rarely deceived
i achieved a certain stance cause i’m hard and enhanced
started naive and grew now i’m raw and advanced
when i trance, i see bloody white sheets and gauze
forensic labs, and killers who evade the laws
this life’s a murder plot and we’re all involved
the world spins and people die like when a gun revolves

dear diary

dear diary,

remember when i used to talk to you about how i couldn't cry? remember when i used to tell you about how i'd lay in bed and try my hardest to squeeze some form of relief from my eyes, only to fall asleep on my dry pillow? remember when i used to pretend that not crying was a good thing, and would puff out my chest as i told people that i had only cried ONE time since i was thirteen? well, let's just say i'm not that guy anymore. i've cried twice this year already, which is more than i have in the past twenty one years. maybe all the years of holding in my emotions is starting to catch up with me. maybe this has been an unusually difficult year. or maybe i've finally reached a point in my life where i'm truly comfortable with letting go.

i think my heart used to be bigger, no, really. i know for a fact, at one time it held more love, more kindness, more forgiveness. not that it isn't still filled with all those stellar attributes, but somehow it feels smaller, and maybe a little less concerned. maybe my heart is the total sum of everything i love, and every time i lose a loved one, to death, or a failed relationship, maybe i also lose a small piece of me. over a period of time, all those loses have left me with a much smaller heart. so how do i overcome this small heart affliction? well, if i'm lucky, i can make my heart bigger. i can find new things to care about. i can invite new people into my life, and i can take a chance all over again. the bigger a heart gets, the more painful it feels when loss is experienced. this is why so many people lust rather than love. it's also why it's easier to let a good thing slip through your fingers, than give effort to keeping it. ultimately, it's the FEAR and PAIN that keeps people running in the wrong directions. i for one am done being one of those people.

reciprocity. in a perfect world, if i reciprocated what people gave me, i'd be happy. unfortunately, most people tend to give you way less than you feel you deserve. in this scenario, reciprocating means you start giving less as well. suddenly, no one is giving anything, which means no more relationship. the reality is most relationships ARE NOT built on reciprocity. most are built on one person giving a little more than the other, and tolerating what that person isn't willing to give. this notion is the basis for what i call the "star theory". the star theory is simple, in 95% of all relationships, if we're honest, we'll have to admit, one person is the star. and the star, no matter how great they may treat you, is unable to reciprocate the same level of love and interest being thrust upon them. this is why i believe in 95% of all relationships, one person is with the person of their dreams, and the other person feels, there MAY be someone out there who's better. only in 5% of all relationships do i believe both parties, if given a choice to pick who they have vs. who's out there, would pick each other again. so why's everyone picking the wrong people? maybe love is like black jack. conventional wisdom says if you're dealt an 18, you hold. you don't risk going for 21 because you may crap out an lose the 18. the pain of being in and out of bad relationships even causes some people to fear losing a 16, 15, or 14. once again, FEAR and PAIN become the weapons that keep us from the happiness we truly desire.

so where does this all leave me? it leaves me a work in progress. as much as i know about women and relationships, it's obvious i haven't even begun to know enough. i am a recent divorcee, which means for all of my theory, i'm a failure. but that doesn't make me want to throw a pity party for myself, quite the contrary. it makes me live life urgently, like a gun is pointed at my head and every decision depends on my survival. i live in the moment, i don't put things off, i try to say what i feel when i feel it, because i now know how precious time is. i also know how precious people are. there is no excuse for not investing in people in this life. "thank you" goes a long way. so does "i'm sorry". so does "i love you". so does "thinking of you". so do phone calls, emails, and text messages. and holding hands, kissing, making love, and doing whatever you must to make someone feel confident and wanted. i've made this promise to myself, if i like someone, i'll tell'em. if i love someone, i'll show'em. but i will not settle for excuses, or those who can't reciprocate what it is i'm trying to give. you can't hate a person for not giving you what you derserve, but you can hate yourself for sticking around to deal with it. so from here on out, what i feel is the only truth, and if someone doesn't make me feel good, i don't need them. i can deal with things not working out. i've promised myself, in the future i won't be afraid to shed tears, or take a chance on someone in order to make my heart become a little bigger than it already is. the truth is obvious. i am not who i was yesterday. i am different. i am better.

- hardCore

the "nigga" police

"why do i call myself a nigga you ask me/cause police always wanna harrass me" - mc ren

So, it's Saturday night. You're chilling out with friends watching college football at a local bar. Drinking, laughing, basically kicking it! There's lots of loud conversation and horseplay. Somewhere during the discourse you or one of your friends does the unimaginable; YOU SAY THE WORD "NIGGA". Suddenly everyone in the bar stops talking. We start to hear police sirens in the distance. Growing closer, and closer, and closer! Tires squeal. Sirens stop. Sound of two car doors slamming. Red and blue lights spinning light up the dark parking lot. The front door flies open. Two middle aged men bust into the bar, guns drawn. Their names, Rev. Al Sharpton & Rev. Jesse Jackson. They run up on the culprit and yell FREEZE! They read him his rights, hancuff him, and drag him away to "Being A Bad Nigga Prison". What you've just witnessed is a sign of the times. And clearly illustrates what most would love to see happen, any and every time you use the word..."nigga".

At the heart of the "nigga" debate is a growing and ever widening generation gap. On one side you have the civil rights generation. These are the people who marched and fought against blantant racist and the word "nigger". They were hosed down, bitten by dogs, spit on, and were dehumanized for the sake of one cause, ending racism. For them, to embrace the word "nigga" or "nigger" on any level is beyond taking a step back, it's to demean their work and their movement. On the other hand you have the hip hop generation, who politically have no movement. Not only that, but hip hop generally embraces "nigga" as every day slang, a term of endearment, and a way of saying they are the people of the struggle; the have nots, the forgotten, the voiceless. For hip hop, "nigger" is not even part of the conversation, because it has that little relevance in their daily lives. Yet, the word "nigga" seems to hold a rawness or rebelliousness that fits right in with the expressive nature of hip hop. Over the past year, it seems like every other week, said rapper is defending "nigga" and freedom of expression, while people like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are holding mock burials to rid the world of the word altogether. Ultimately, both sides may have a point.

Sesquicentenial. This is a word that we'll see in the news a lot in the coming years, it means 150. That's right, in 2015, black people in America will celebrate their sesquicentenial, 150 years free from slavery. When I think about all the progress that has been made in that time, and all the racism that sill exist, it really puts into perspective just how short amount of time has truly passed. We're basically talking about four generations of people. That's all! No wonder "nigga" is still a hot topic, it should be, but so should the real problem, slavery. Slavery is the untold secret of our country. It's barely discussed in our history books. And the little that is discussed is condensed into some Black History Month tribute. Whereas every major city in America has a holocaust museum, where mandatory class field trips take students to learn about the Jewish plight, the same can not be said for the African-American holocaust. Slavery is skimmed over in our country because it makes too many people uncomfortable. White people don't want to be reminded of their wicked ancestors. And black people, who have never really accepted the horrors of our past, want to distance themselves as far away from those painful memories as possible. Our only constant reminder slavery even happened today, is "nigger" and "nigga". And for that alone, I say thank God for the n-word.

"i'm just telling you, it's uncomfortable to me. i don't like it when black people say it to me, i really don't no more" - richard pryor

If the "n" word stings, hurts, or makes you uncomfortable, good! It should. Because slavery stung, hurt, and was beyond uncomfortable. And the racism that is alive today still stings, hurts, and is beyond uncomfortable as well. But guess what Al and Jesse, it goes far beyond the word "nigger". If that word was never said again in life, we'd still hear it in the gun blasts every time a racist cop shot an unarmed black man. We'd hear it in the slam of the gavel every time a falsely convicted black person was sent to prison. And we'd hear it if we deciphered the words when corporate America justifies their lack of minority employees by saying "there just aren't enough qualified black candidates". You see, "nigger" is the fever that proceeds the flu. In other words, it's simply a symptom of a greater problem, racism and ignorance. And just like the flu, each year racism and ignorance advances and comes back stronger. Although it may keep many of the same old symptoms, it does develop new ones. So "nigger" is simply the sypmtom of racism recognized and watched by the the Civil Rights generation. While "nigga" isn't necessarily viewed as a symptom of racism or even ignorance by hip hoppers. Instead they see things like unfair hiring practices, discriminatory hair and dress codes, and racial profiling by police as the symptoms to watch for. And many even believe "nigga" is a part of the cure. Some would argue, by saying the word, although you can't change its history, you can definitely take away the power it holds today. And uh, if you haven't guessed it, those people would definitely not be Rev. Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson.

Queensbridge rapper Nas will weigh in on the debate in December with his instantly controversial titled cd "Nigger".

So what does it all mean? It simply means, WE AIN'T THERE YET! We have not arrived black people. Racism is still real, and people died to end it. So yes, I'm as pissed off as Al or Jesse when I hear a 12 year old screaming out to his friend with a big ole loud NIGGAAAAAA! There are also times when I'm blazay blah about it when hanging out with the homies, "what up my nigga!" Some months I create a "nigga-free" zone and refuse to say the word, or play music with the word in it. Other months I'm saying it and playing it so much, I feel like Paul Mooney and can actually see it making my teeth whiter. But at least I'm happy to say this is a black debate. For white people the rules are and have been very clear for a long time. Say the word if you choose, but beware of the consequences. See KKKramer. All I know is, if we all knew our history and got more active to end racism, maybe the word would mean a little more to us. And if the world we're living in today was truly a better place, maybe the word would have no real significance in these days and times. But on both counts, WE AIN'T THERE YET. And since I'm bound to say "nigga" a few more times in my life, I got one thing to say to all you folks dropping a dime on me to the "nigga" police... stop snitching NIGGAS!!! One luv.

freestyle friday

like a doc before making incisions
a skilled hand and a vision
i pray, ether germs and aim with precision
write with my wisdom
my mission is to gain what i’m missing
strain when i train
it hurts
but i never complain
it seems sex is just division of legs
my intentions
to delve deep within and find different dimensions
beauty i hate, why
cause it creates suspicion
love’s ascension is stopped
and it ends in dissention
i try and relax
instead all i feel is the tension
in my mind it’s like
brown vs. the school system
so i
stay in my lane outta sight from the lames
sippin good
lighting long nag champas with flames
my knees stay callused from prayers
and meditating for change
inside i burn but my eyes never melt from the pain....

corporate america, watermelon, and me

It’s one thing to be black in America, where blacks are 13% of the population, and you actually see other black people on a regular basis. It’s an entirely different thing to be black in corporate America, where blacks make up less than 2% of all white-collar workers. In my case, that means being the ONLY black in my department for over six years. Although it sounds pretty awkward, you get focused, you do your job, and you adapt. But you never quite adapt to feeling like you’re the ambassador for the ENTIRE black race. More often than not, the pressure to put forth the best face for the race can lead you to frustration, confusion, and even and isolation,

“One ever feels his two-ness, an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two un-reconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.- W. E. B. Du Bois

What do you do? You’re at a department meeting in a boardroom with 30 of your white co-workers. Lunch is wheeled in. The two choices? Roast beef, or fried chicken? If I was white, I’d simply eat what I had a taste for. But as the only black, suddenly, this isn’t a matter of taste, it’s a social statement. Do you shun the chicken, for the roast beef, or do you risk confirming some kind of stereotype by getting your finger licking grub on with the fried chicken? Eight years ago, every time when I found myself in these types of situations, this little voice in my head would start whispering. It’d say stuff like, “certain shit you just don’t do around white people”. And every single time, I’d get as far away from the chicken, or watermelon, or collard greens as I possibly could. But it wasn’t just about food. When asked questions about hip hop, that voice would whisper, “ohhh, so you have to like hip hop cause you’re black”? So I’d play dumb, like I had no idea what they were talking about. And when people walked up to me assuming I voted democrat, that voice would whisper, “so a black man can’t be up on all the candidates, just the democratic ones huh”? And I’d have to drop some knowledge about all the independents in the race. See, eight years ago, I had it all wrong. I was so worried about what other people thought about me. I was allowing the possibility of their pre-conceived notions about blacks, make me insecure. Eight years later, I’m totally different.

Today, luckily I’m not the only black in my department, (finally we have two more) but I’d be comfortable if I were. Why? Because I’ve come to grips with the fact that in corporate America, I AM an ambassador for black America. However, that doesn’t mean I have to carry all of black America’s burden. All I can do is be real, and put forth the best me I can. And if I do that, I think I’ll be repping my race to the fullest. I love to engage in discussions about race, and to educate ignorant people when I can. Besides, I love hip hop, so pictures of folks from Kool Herc to the Gza plaster my walls. And if I feel like eating a piece of chicken or watermelon, or whatever around my co-workers, I just do. What really put it all into perspective for me is this brotha who works here. He’s a janitor. He comes through the office late at night, and empties the trashcans. Brotha man has a jheri curl, wears lots of gold, and talks with a twang. But at the end of the day, that’s my brotha. And not for my white co-workers or anyone else would I ever shun that man, or that part of my black experience. Every time I see him, he greets me brotherly, and I always make time to talk to him as well, no matter who’s around. See, a lot of times, in an effort to put forth a good face for white people, blacks become extremely insecure about who we are. And that ain’t cool. Because in the end, we have to be comfortable with what black is, before we can try to show others, what black is not.

jim crow television

“We have defeated Jim Crow, but now we have to deal with his son, James Crow Jr., esquire.” - Al Sharpton

Remember the images of a WHITE'S ONLY water fountain side by side one marked COLORED? Well, as awful and horrifying as that image was, at least both fountains were dispensing the same water. But what if the water coming from the COLORED fountain was slightly brownish, tasted funny, and left long lasting affects. Imagine what that would do to how we perceived ourselves and each other over time. Well, that's exactly what Viacom is serving up on MTV and BET. In this scenario, MTV is the equivalent of the WHITE'S ONLY fountain, and BET (Black Exploitation Television) is the COLORED fountain. And it only takes a quick flick back and forth between the two channels to notice how seperate and unequal they really are.

Intitially, when I heard Viacom acquired BET back in 2000, I thought mo'money should mean better, higher quality programming. Take a look at what Viacom COO, Mel Krazmin said at the time.

"This is a strategically perfect fit," he added. "We now have a major business targeting the African-American market, which is growing faster than the general population. African-American household income is growing faster, consumer spending is growing faster and the market consumes more media than the general market. Additionally, while ad spending in the general market is showing 6 to 7 percent growth, ad spending in the African-American segment is showing a growth of 15 percent."

Hey, it sounded good on paper right? Then came the infamous BET Uncut. An after hours adventure that felt like the red light district of cable television, graphically taking you to a place where misognyny, hip hop, and adult themes all came together. Although BET would condone the show by saying it aired late at night, the fact is, the images of our people being beamed to 62 million U.S. households was atroscious. It's one thing to make the decision to go to a strip club, it's another to have one beamed to to your home. (Who can forget Nelly swiping the crack of a dancer's ass with a credit card) Also, it makes me raise the question, "would Viacom air this show on MTV"? Think about that for a second. Exactly. I think we all know the answer to that one my friends. So what made them so comfortable airing it on BET? Maybe it was simply a case of, as NWA would say, "here's what they think about you."

You hear a lot of talk about how BET is MTV's sister station. For real, I can't tell. Especially if you look at some of the very successful MTV shows compared to the BET knock offs. lI remember expecting the presence of Viacom to bring up the production quality of the BET shows. Then College Hill debuted. I'm sorry folks but compared to The Real World, this show just looks extremely low budget. Same with the reality shows for Lil Kim, Keyshia Cole, and DMX. Even when BET gets black star power, they deliver shows that look bootleg. Anyone flipping back and forth between BET and MTV would never in a million years conclude these two stations were owned by the same company.

Let me not blame all of BET's problems on Viacom. A lot of it has to do with not living up to the name Black Entertainment Telivision. Once again, I must refer to the MTV model. MTV is simply Music Television. Over the years, MTV has defined itself as the main source for all things cool revolving around youth culture, with music being the glue. And more often than not, MTV has gone out of its way to also address issues affecting youth culture with serious programming about drug abuse, AIDS, gun control, etc. Now let's look at BET, which stands for Black Entertainment Television. The name is extremely important. It's not Black Teen Entertainment Television. It's not Black Hip Hop Entertainment Television. It's Black Entertainment Television. Therefore, it's demogrphic is huge, and should cater to the huge diverse group that is black America. Instead, the station's programming acts as if black people are this monolithic group that is fascinated by all things having to do with hip hop, videos, and celebrity. Once upon a time in what now seems like BET's "golden era", there were news programs. People like Ed Gordon and Tavis Smiley actually had talk shows. There were syndicated family shows. And athough we still wanted more from the station at the time, at least we felt like they were "trying" to live up to the name Black Entertainment Television. Today, that is hardly the case. If an alien were to come to Earth and base his thoughts of black people off of the programming he saw on BET...the thought of that alone saddens and sickens me. Yet, many non black people are doing just that, and the images they are seeing are simply reaffirming there predetermined stereotypes.

I'd like to see BET represent the best of who we are. I'd like to see BET secure the rights to our BEST tv shows and our BEST movies. I'd like to see BET put some effort into creating adult programming as well as family programming. I'd like to see BET develop a REAL newsroom, with up to the minute news covering our stories, the ones that don't make it on screen on the major networks. I'd like to see BET develop some talk shows. I'd like to see BET stop focusing on what the stars are doing, and focus more on showing young people the realities of black people working behind the scenes in music and television. I'd like to see BET improve the over all production quality of all of their shows, and diversify the music they showcase. I'd like BET to be my source for all things involving black culture. If the best engineer in the world is black, BET should let me know that. If St. Croix is the new black vacation destination, BET should let me know that. If there is going to be a march to bring attention to inferior sentencing of black teens, BET should let me know that as well. BET has proven over the years that its standards for us, are much lower than the standards other stations have for their viewers. The day of Jim Crow television is over, sorry BET and Viacom, but we DEMAND more than that. One luv.

getting old

(No, my mug doesn't look like this, but I am starting see those little silver gray hairs growing from my chin.)

At 34, I'm hardly ready to retire, grab a walker, and start pouring buttermilk over my cereal. But don't get it twisted, each day I wake up, I'm reminded that I'm definitely getting older.

The most immediate way you know you're getting older is your body. First off, the metabolism slows down. You find yourself being forced to make smarter choices about the foods you eat. Not only what, but when. Too many carbs after 9 o'clock will have your mid section on some "please don't pinch me" sh*t. Matter of fact, way too many of my friends are walking around with "dick-do's". You know, their stomachs stick out further than their dicks' do. Well, I ain't with that. Therefore a lot of the foods I used to eat, have been pretty much taken out of my diet altogether. Now I find myself playing the substitute game. Fish instead of fried chicken. Red wine instead of beer. Wheat thins instead of potato chips. The list goes on and on. Also, for me, working out used to be all about competition. If you saw me running four or five miles, or lifting weights, it was so I could have that edge when I stepped on the track for a race. If I was doing hundreds of sit ups, it was so I'd feel strong when playing basketball. Now working out is simply about being healthy and looking good. I don't know about you, but for me, that takes all the fun out of it. Oh and did I mention the aches and pains. All those years of running high hurdles in high school and college have caught up with me. My knees constantly hurt, and when they don't, it's a tight hamstring, or a back ache. And to think, your 30's are supposed to be the PRIME of your life.

Another sure way you know you're getting older is when your peers start to die from health related illnesses. I've had a high school friend die of asthma, a cousin die of a heart attack, and a work colleague die of cancer. Each one of these people were younger than 41 when they died, which scares the hell out of me. It's one thing when people die from unforseen accidents, but when people your age start to die from health problems, you know you're not a kid anymore. It forces you to maximize the moment, and question your rituals. My philosophy is, if I want to be here, I have to act like it. So yes, I go see my doctor every six months or so, no excuses. I also try not to live an exteme lifestyle. I don't smoke. I drink, but I never binge drink like I did in my twenties. And I refuse to carry around uneccesary pounds. High blood pressure and diabetes are real killers than can sneak up on any of us. So it's time we all start watching our backs before we get got.

Here's another thing. I'm beginning to notice something that I truly hate to admit. Me and the people around me are becoming conservative. Damn, it even hurts to type that. When I say conservative, I definitely ain't talking about wilding out and joining the Republican Party, or nothing remotely close. But on a Friday or Saturday nights, I no longer feel the NEED to go out. Matter of fact, I tend to enjoy staying in more. It used to be all about the party or the club. Now it's all about ON DEMAND movies, a book, thinking, writing, or snuggle time with that special someone. All that stuff we used to see on tv that we thought was corny, you know, people sitting around the house sipping wine talking with jazz playing in the background... Well, that has become my reality. Not to say I don't enjoy live music or checking out a hip hop set with the best of them. But for the most part, I'm a lot more mellow. And I spend a lot more time chilling than I ever have before. I still get riled up by things in the news, but the way I handle it is different. I sit back and critically think about issues BEFORE I react to them emotionally. My temperment isn't as fiery, and instead of cursing out managers when I get bad service places, I write well written letters, and threaten boycotts. Believe it or not, it's so much more effective than all that energy I used to waste. At family events I find myself yelling at the kids, "slow your ass down in the house, this ain't no gym!" Now tell me that doesn't sound like an old person. Oh yeah, this is a sure give away to let you know you're getting old. Ever been sitting around and found these words coming out of your mouth, "it was different when I was a kid". Man, I hear my friends say this kind of stuff all the time when we talk about hip hop and or the youngsters. See, I'm not alone, YOU'RE getting old too!!!!

So what does it all really mean? Well, as we get older, so do our parents. This means we not only have to deal with our mortality, but their's as well. Many of us have already seen our parents go before us. Those of us like myself, who are blessed enough to still have their folks, will have to deal with the slow demise of our parents health over the next twenty or so years. It's part of life, it happens. Hopefully we've taken the best from them, and the elders who came before them, so we'll have plenty of amunition to feed the younger generation with. Ultimately, there's really nothing wrong with getting older. Well, as long as we continue to get wiser as well. One luv.

i did

"i did"
by hardCore

i was married in a desert once
a hot sun and illusions of happiness in my eyes
i wiped anticipation from my brow and inhaled the scene
no scent of doubt in the wind
no misguided heartbeats
no twist in my neck begging me to turn back
you can’t tell me i wasn’t ready
steady and stern
freshly shaved and bowtied
my best man as my twin
closest family as witnesses
a preacher i didn’t know and a violinist
my proudest moment was being cemented in time
right before me
sculpted masterfully by my expectations
a matron of honor
a long pause
the momentum of people standing
and her
yes her
life promises
a kiss
a reception
a toast
hugs
so many hugs
and happiness
and speed
so much speed
and new family
and faces and names i couldn’t quite remember
i became lost in the newness
more speed
first Christmas
zoom
first new years
things beginning to blur
birthdays
anniversary
slow down
wait
another christmas
hold on
another new years
make it stop….

and then
it did
so abruptly
just over a year in
tires came screeching down our hallways
into the deepest corridors of our confusion
index fingers started pointing
tongues became muted
and when they weren’t
they lashed out like leather
at the tips of whips on flesh
the next day we’d walk around
with our backs still stinging
so many i’m sorry’s and i love you’s
all while spending less time together
too much time making money
not enough time making love……..last
eating in different rooms
seeking out advice from different sources
falling asleep with an ocean between us
deep hard lines becoming fixated between our eyes
each night we went to sleep unhappy
no smiles
no understanding
the willingness to work harder being drained
slowly from our veins
enfant problems screaming at the crack of dawn
begging to be attended to
both of us just lying there
neither of us rolling over
screams getting louder
nobody making the first move
she waiting on me
me waiting on her
to make it stop, but it never did
two stems from one flower growing
in different directions
blooming, but not together
becoming more happy apart
healing and still growing
learning to love ourselves
the way we couldn’t each other
sometimes saving a friendship
means sacrificing a ring
a last name
a life together
false images of happiness
and pain

this is not the story of i do
i didn’t
or what i would if i could do it all again
this is simply the story of loving someone
as hard as i could
even when it didn’t work
and being able to walk away knowing

i did

©2007 3rd Eye Open Publishing

he said, she said

he said, she said (a failure to communicate)
by hardCore

she said, "you're deep"
referring to the sound of my voice
rather than the words they held

i said, "what a dress"
referring to how sexy it looked stretched out across my floor
opposed to spaghetti strapped over her shoulders

she whispered, "i love this"
referring to what she hoped "this" would become

i mumbled, "me too"
referring to what i thought "this" was

we both moaned, "yes!"

she, thinking of him
me, thinking of the previous her

the next morning, we both waved "goodbye"

she meant, for now
i meant, forever

letter writing

The following black face image appeared in an editorial piece for i-D Magzine featuring American Apparel clothing,

Being that advertising is my day job, I'm extremely sensitive to imagery from advertisers and media outlets. So when I saw the above picture for the first time, it struck me as odd and in poor taste. As I continued to examine the concept and wording of the piece, I began to find it offensive and inflamatory. At that point I made it my personal mission to do something. What did I do? Friday I wrote a letter. I wrote a letter to American Apparel to let them know I wasn't happy with the imagery I saw in i-D Magazine. I also emailed the above image to my entire email list which includes over 200 people. I encouraged them to write letters as well, and many did. I also contacted as many woman and civil rights organizations as possible. And just like that, a campaign was born.

This past Friday I received a letter from American Apparel letting me know they had nothing to do with the creative direction of the above photoshoot. Here is a small piece of what that letter said.

The offensive image that you referenced is not an American Apparel ad, nor did American Apparel have anything to do with the creative direction. Since we have no creative input on any fashion editorials produced, I would express your understandable concerns with this recent fashion editorial to i-D magazine. - them

I replied back with the following email.

We now understand this was not an ad created by your company.

However, the fact remains, your products are a part of that racist image. Therefore, to not denounce i-D magazine's immoral use of your product is to stand by it.

Unless and until American Apparel has gone on record to distance themselves from I-D magazine's creative interpretation, we will continue to push forward with our awareness campaign to let people of color know of the types of racist images still being generated, and the names of the companies that condone this type of imagery. - me

Well, American Apparel wanted it to be known that they hire diverse people and the above image is in no way representative of their business ethics or hiring practices. In fact, they called the business office of 3rd Eye Open to speak about it. They were contrite, and let it be known they would be publicly distancing themselves from this editorial piece. We'll now be focusing our attention on i-D Magazine and their irreverent level of sensitivity.

Now, I know some of you are like, come on, this is much to do about nothing. Well, I don't see it that way. I believe that true activism is about doing more than TOLERATING things we don't like. It's about actively pursuing an end. Whether that is an apology, education, a firing, removal of images, or simply to drawing attention to an issue. And nothing communicates our angers and frustrations better than letter writing. I am not a trouble maker. I am a citizen of the U.S. willing to yell, kick, and scream for issues close to my heart. Over the years, I've written tons of letters to different organzations, politicians, executives, and newpaper writers. Through this dialogue we can force a change, see Imus. If more of us wrote letters and protested, our current president wouldn't be in office. But that's another issue altogether. The world is full of wrongs. And one of the best ways to right those wrongs, is by WRITING. So why aren't you? Power to the people, one luv.

YOU

hey YOU.

YOU don't smile enough. or even think to.

YOU have eyes, that hold tears filled with unaswered questions, memories and frustrations, that subside when YOU cry, but always come back to eventually bother YOU.

YOU don't believe enough. in yourself. in others. or your ability to simply believe.

YOU only feel misunderstood, because YOU misunderstand the importance of communication.

don't blame other people for not being YOU, for not thinking as YOU would, or acting as YOU would.

YOU are loved.

YOU are as different, as you are alike, all the rest of us. sometimes that comforts you, other times it just makes you feel overlooked, ordinary, and alone.

YOU think i don't know YOU. the truth is, everyone who has ever known YOU, knows YOU well enough to know how special YOU are, even when they don't act like it.

there is someone YOU love, that you have been preparing yourself to lose. and still, when YOU finally lose them, YOU won't be prepared.

the world spins to your rhythm, YOU just don't know it.

God watches YOU. even when YOU stop looking to God.

no one will ever take a chance on YOU, until YOU take a chance on somebody.

it's okay to really love who YOU are, YOU deserve that.

the YOU you were yesterday, is not the YOU you are today. YOU are better.

YOU are smarter than you'll ever know.

stronger than you'll ever know.

more magnificent than you'll ever know.

in fact, YOU remind me of someone very special.

ME.