Criminal Minded

Amerika makes up five percent of the world’s population and yet, houses 25 percent of all prisoners and ironically uses 25 percent of the world’s energy. No - Amerika isn’t using all of the prison population as a workforce. Yes - prison means profits. Yes - Amerika has some nasty habits.
Sadly, there are think tanks banking on your habits to justify their expenditures, fees and wicked recommendations. One look at programs advocating population control would cause anyone reading on an eighth grade level to wake up and become concerned. Plus, these groups aren’t environmentalists. They are simply eugenicists.
In generic terms, eugenics is defined as the study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding. Of course, one needs to know who is deciding who to control and how they make their selections, if they intend to prepare a defense or exercise self-preservation. Certainly, this would be the time to deny any assistance. Besides, free stuff is the most expensive.
As young Black and Brown men use boredom, frustration and not having as an excuse to commit crimes we must not lose focus. An attempt to educate them must be employed before we solicit our oppressors who will gladly deploy tactics that few of our children can properly recover from. Remember, there are forces designed solely to attack people of Afrikan descent. This has never been a secret; Black folk have just chosen to whisper and pray about it. So, what is a crime? Obviously, nothing done against Blacks is considered inhuman treatment, because the intent seems to be annihilation. And common law has been put to sleep so hue and cry can’t be utilized. If common law was ever discovered by the real government, “the people”, the elected officials would not forget that their station is not above the law. The people must learn the difference between a crime, wrong, tort or a sin. The so-called War on Drugs has put numerous Blacks behind bars with no crime having been committed. Most were in possession but there was no injury… no loss… no harm. You can apply scriptures and throw in the word sin, but the government has not been injured or suffered any losses or harm. C’mon! Who is going to out-do the united States? More importantly, where is the corpus delicti (the body of the crime)? The courts do not want to acknowledge this rule, but any person with a child facing a drug charge should question the appointed or retained attorney about the fact of a transgression. Do it now!
Criminal minded? I think not! But with enough bad music and television anyone can become a criminal. Yeah, the minds behind the music and television programming have a history of criminal activity. Yep, they are the criminal minded.

Soft, Black & Faithful

Watching James Brown interview Mike Vick for 60 Minutes truly pained me. Vick took full responsibility for his actions as James Brown took on the role of a person attempting to be simultaneously tough and fair. Yes, he had to please those persons cheering for Vick and too, those persons wishing to see Vick suffer more. Brown had to appease his employers and not disappoint the Vick fans. After all, some people still want to be like Mike.
Vick appeared sincere, but prison has to be the best place in the world to learn how to wear a mask. Sure, this is debatable. Besides, he has a team of people who see his worth and depend on his potential for their livelihoods. A little coaching was necessary and I am glad that he is, now, able to articulate a thought despite how simplistic his answers may sound. No doubt, the time helped him to focus. The nights of crying in a lonely cell did him some good. Becoming familiar with himself for the first time was possibly the best thing that could have happened to him. The distance between Vick and his lord challenges the notion of him mistreating dogs when we consider the fact that the crime was the mistreatment of dogs. This is sad when we ponder the lives that are lost to senseless crimes. And too, the fact that we are led to believe that we occasionally find ourselves in the trenches because we do not trust something or someone that we have been told is more supreme than ourselves is unrighteous. Vick is fortunate to have Tony Dungy to offer him guidance, but the public should question the inefficacy of faith based programs. As for Black men, the idea of being soft, meek and fearful in an effort to comfort nonBlacks should be disposed of.

Vick-torious!

The city of brotherly love has proven to be its brother’s keeper. Michael Vick gets a chance to earn a living by using his talent on the grid iron, the Eagles set an example of second-chance and the NFL regains luster. I am truly impressed. Now, we await the induction of Pete Rose in the MLB Hall of Fame and the exoneration of Barry Bonds. After all, if the government or the people wish to be tough, they should overhaul the penal system, the justice system and selective, prejudiced media.
As for Vick, he has the pressures of proving that he deserves to return and play. The sad part is that he has to be a poster boy for man’s best friend – the dog - in a top 10 meat consumption country where the average meat eater consumes three times more meat than what is consumed annually. Yes, more than 200lbs per year. Of course, dog flesh isn’t factored into this equation in the U.S. and not every dog is leading the blind, accompanying the lonely or tracking hunted game. Yet, it is the god of all domesticated animals.
Training dogs to fight may not be ethically sound, but hunger, unemployment, poverty, boredom, fear and the need to survive has contributed to an increase in crime and the climbing murder rates. The human life is far more important than that of a dog. Perhaps, Amerika can prioritize and clean up this mess, while the fans of NFL rush out to grab a new Vick jersey. Philadelphia Eagles and the NFL should be applauded and the employers of this failing country should cease employing cheap, illegal labor and chance those available, capable, proven minds and bodies who have paid their debts.

Lost in Translation

I am not a language purist. However, I am capable of communicating effectively on most levels. Of course, the recipient of my messages can complicate matters by focusing on one misunderstood word, wrongly defining a word or habitually misusing a word they’ve never understood. Besides, most people just talk. They don’t really know what they are repeating, but like parrots… they enjoy the exciting sounds. And those dealing in mind control know this.
Hillary Clinton’s demand to be identified as the secretary of state opposed to channeling her husband could be viewed as feminist, selfish, arrogant or misunderstood. It depends on how the media pushes it. Furthermore, the translator miscommunicated the question which asked about the current president’s opinion and not her husband’s. So, she rightfully over-reacted. But it doesn’t stop there. While in Nigeria she compared Nigeria’s election corruption to that of the rigged 2000 election in the united States which required a recount in Florida.
I am surprised that she has spoken the truth. I am actually shocked. Amerika needs a cleansing. Black folk complain about Bill Cosby airing dirty laundry, but no one needs to sun dry their clothing as much as Amerika. Nine more comments of this caliber and I, too, will be a fan of the secretary of state.

New Stuff!

Cassandra was truly a poor man’s dream and rich man’s wish. Pretty toes, pretty hands, a body sculpted by God and a face that one would never tire of seeing. I imagine she spent hours walking with a book on her head, because she had the sexiest sashay. It was as smooth and effortless as her beauty. Most men would swear monogamy and all the other silly things that men say and do to remove the clothes from a woman. Cassandra would be that woman that seemed to be unobtainable. And when one did get her, he would not desire any other woman.
Sir was cool as hell. Yeah, he name was Sir. Smart, spoiled and selective. He wasn’t the best looking guy and he wasn’t an athlete. But he was desired by a many girls. He knew how to talk to the girls and he dressed well. After all, his dad was the biggest preacher in the city. If nothing else, dude could talk.
The second semester of the senior year brought Cassandra and Sir together. It was obvious that they were happy. They made plans to attend college together, marry and of course, they’d spoken of how many children they wanted. Each family embraced the idea of the two being together. A match made in heaven.
As the days progressed Cassandra’s appearance began to change. She was still pretty, but she didn’t seem to care and girls that she normally ignored were now having chit chat sessions with a different Cassandra. As for Sir – he was the man. He continued doing his thang. He was maturing, so to speak and experimenting. Sir spent less time with Cassandra and more time testing the waters. Cassandra was devastated. How could any man cheat on someone so beautiful, so fine? What did she do wrong? What did she not do? Why do women think that the betrayal is their fault?
Firstly, all men do not cheat. But when they do it is normally because they wish to avoid being tied down, they fear commitment, they want to maintain the youthful fire, and surely they want to hide their emotions. The idea of new sex with a new woman in a new place excites a man. If sneaking is involved, the sex is even hotter. This doesn’t last forever, but for the most part this is it. Oh, and secondly – some men wish to avoid conflict and having a woman depend on them. Undoubtedly, some women bring more baggage and drama than most men want to handle. So, women can stop blaming themselves until they become better psychoanalysts, more improved shoppers and stop their cheating as well. Hell yeah, women cheat!

Who Let Dem Dawgs Out?

One would assume that I am ready to bash the brothas. C’mon! I can’t do that. I won’t do that. After all, I am a brotha. And we carry enough blame for our people and this country. You can always blame it on the Black guy. Perhaps, you should know that I am my brother’s keeper. I don’t mind making a correction. We should check one another, for it is impossible for us to love ourselves or our people while posturing with indifference. Rap (not Hip Hop) has pocketed the baton from think thanks designed to destroy any efforts of deprogramming a people suffering from post traumatic slave syndrome.
The public would assume that Black men are irresponsible due to silly and unpolished entertainers with no regard for the community. Somehow, most believe that no one will see them as role models when they are actually begging for attention. Someone is watching and being influenced by learned idiosyncrasies.
What role does our woman play in uplifting our children and our men in need – our families? Has our woman abandoned us? What do we need for her to affirm her love for family? It is evident that our children suffer without the man, but our women have not neglected their responsibilities entirely. Yet, the presence of the man is necessary. And obviously, the suggestions of society that promote disloyalty, neglect, promiscuity and deceit should be dismissed by Black men.

Do We Need Another Black President?

As the Republicans and Libertarians search for someone to replace the current president the Democrats continue to convince the people that Barack Obama is what the people need. Negro pundits seem pleased having a talented tenth type negro in public housing. I don’t care how many days President Obama has served. It is obvious that little has changed. He has it made, while negroes around the country simultaneously salute him and struggle.
President Obama is an exception to the presidency. He got swagger! Dude plays ball, talks tough, speaks well, got a cool walk and a fine woman. C’mon – admit it. However, the ‘hood ain’t Hollywood. African-Americans have issues that a weed, a saxophone, suspended predatory lending and a few houses from a humanitarian group won’t solve. And parading Michelle before us is not sufficient. The proof is in the put in not the pudding.
True, he has inspired some individuals to dream and achieve. But truth be told, said persons had vacated blackness prior to Obama’s ascent and utilized his dream to justify stepping on the backs of Blacks that bowed in awe. We can grade the brotha. Bill Cosby has proven that Black folks watch television and he periodically makes his complaints known. However, it is time that some of the negroes desiring the preserve the negro identity realize that thangs don’ changed! It ain’t all good. Amerika needs to know that those most in need are not pleased with anyone who looks like them who can’t seem to recognize the need to improve the conditions of a downtrodden, disenfranchised, marginalized people. Slavery did some irreparable damage to the psyche of Black folks. One can claim to be indigenous, but the damages are still evident. One could consider themselves Native and compare their conditions to those enduring life on the reservations.
It is obvious that Obama doesn’t make all the decisions. It is clear that if he fails, we fail. Sadly, the we he speaks of is not Amerika, but Black folks and highfalutin negroes who could not die without having a Black representative be held responsible for the crisis of Amerika. C’mon… you eventually gotta come black. As for the future candidates and wannabes – don’t say you will do what you have no intentions of doing.

My God, Where Art Thou?

Jamal could have had no idea of what Jennifer was thinking as they danced, slurped diaquiris and envisioned one another naked. Before long they walked toward the exit as if they’d known each for months. They were inseparable as they kissed and groped. They wanted each so badly that they debated the idea of leaving Jamal’s car at the club.
Sunday morning came and Jamal awoke at the sound of Jennifer dressing and humming. She was late. Sunday school and service were paramount and the youth choir was scheduled to sing. Jennifer was quite the songstress. After all, she had spent the last few hours chanting “Oh God, Oh God”, while sweating, smiling and grinding. Who knows if she was faking? More importantly, when you consider the mind of the average, colonized negro the thought of god must be addressed.
In Amerika religion is pushed from Kindergarten propaganda and nursery rhymes (Mary Had A Little Lamb) to the pulpit. Courthouses, fiat money, billboards and people espouse a concept of god that obviously benefits those in control. God can’t possibly love the meek and humble. Nobody does love, meekness, humility and compassion like negroes. Meanwhile, devious acts continue as greed and selfishness take precedence over thy neighbor.
Black Leadership seems to do little for the dilemma, because we are being taught to look out opposed to within. That is, until one of the leadership is bribed into convincing the majority that the oppressor is not to blame and that we are responsible for our current state despite having endured slavery, Jim Crowism and ignoring Jamie Crowism.
Blacks close their eyes and imagine a white god coming to save them when the white god’s children are mistreating them. When will it become apparent to negroes that we empower the wrong god? Hell, we even empower the wrong people. C’mon people - don’t let the psychological experience continue as it is. Neither government nor the chosen god has been compassionate or beneficent to the needs of Blacks. And one cool negro living large doesn’t solve the ills of a nation even if you are satisfied with the appointment or feeling better about yourself. Get rid of the rocker or get off the rock, but by all means, do differently.

Buying Black, Giving Back!

If we began to list the things that Black people don’t like or don’t do, the list would be long and exhaustive. Hell! Blacks don’t tip. They don’t skydive. They shy away from rock climbing. Of course, they aren’t particular about Country music. They don’t like their meat raw and bloody. They aren’t Nascar fans. Blacks avoid the extreme heat. They aren’t crazy about cold weather, either. We could go on and on and we’d find a Black or Brown face doing or liking what we have been led to believe they wouldn’t. But what bothers me is the idea that Black folks don’t like supporting Black businesses. The numbers are small or else we’d pull resources to create jobs and at minimum, employ our women.
It is common knowledge that a high percentage of mom and pops stores, owned by Blacks, are expensive and under stocked. Perhaps, this fact coupled with post-slavery trauma syndrome and the Willie Lynch theory makes buying black a difficult task. We have seemingly been conditioned to accept abuse, disrespect and poor service from community invaders who know that the Black dollar is a spent dollar. And of course, we gladly spend with outsiders despite their intentions to only suck money from our communities. Well, efforts are being made to educate Blacks about spending within our communities. I recall Warren Ballentine rallying his listeners to participate in a National BlackOut in 2007. And of course, the Andersons have committed to spending an entire year buying black. At a glance I would not have imagined it. I now understand what my jegna meant by not being quick to judge.
Somehow, we must learn to love, trust and appreciate ourselves and just maybe – we can love those who look like us. Please, take a page from the Andersons.

baz moreno

Weave - How Many of Us Need Them?

As I entered the gentleman’s club the music quickly allured me. Sounds that a man should only dance to when alone convinced me to grab a seat and get a drink. And though it is rumored that a woman has to look a certain way to entertain men, age has pulverized that myth. So, I sipped on a cranberry juice, while screening the room and allowed the smoke, cologne, perfume, adrenaline, hormones and sweat to blend into one enticing concoction. I had refused a few dances before I saw what I liked and ordered another cranberry juice. At any moment the beautiful, well sculpted, video babe type sista would make her way to me. Besides, she had studied me since I had sat down. Hell, this is why I was there. Not for excitement. Not even for sex. C’mon – they’re called strip clubs and I appreciate the slow, seductive movements of temptress, on occasion.
At any rate, the vixen shimmied into my life and we immediately cliqued. Her hands braced against my shoulders as she periodically whispered things in my ear, teased my lips with brushes of her breast and swept her hair across my face. I quickly thought that an ambience of jazz and less calculating movements would be more suitable for a woman of such beauty. So, I arranged to meet her later. Yeah, we met, but over the weeks I would learn more about the pressures of beauty, image and living in Atlanta as I discovered that the beautiful woman with the long tresses was the average sista with identity issues.
Atlanta has a variety of women with an assortment of hairstyles. Sadly, not all of them are wearing their own hair. More importantly, not all of them need the wig, extension, clip-on or weave, either. For various reasons, they each cover, adorn or alter their natural crown for a look that suggests that being a Black woman may be just as tough as being an employed Black man. Mind you, white women do alter and extend their hair, but it is less noticeable, unexpected and unforeseen. One would wonder why a white girl needs weave when sistas getting weave are mostly choosing straight hairstyles, because white hair is perceived as better and/or good hair. And of all the things that a white girl may put on or take off, few expect hair to be a concern. Words like nappy, kinky or bad hair only add to the dislike and confusion contained by self-hatred. Of course, so-called Black publications only exacerbate the identity crisis with pictures of straight haired, light complexioned or bleached skin sistas.
No doubt, we all have been conditioned by the media, but there is no scientific evidence to suggest that the damage done to our psyche cannot be reversed, obliterated or reprogrammed. Nah, it won’t be easy. Moreover, it is not difficult to love a natural sista with natural hair. Somehow, we have to learn to love who we are and ascertain that our women know that we love them as they are.
As for the dancer-friend, she wore she of the most expensive and deceptive hair on the market. To this day, I think she showed me the hair to get me out of her life. :)

At Afrika, Again?

Amerika – the land of opportunity. Not much milk and honey at the moment, but plenty of bullets. Not much bread but plenty of money to make use of ammunition that has not been spent. Imagine Amerika without her make-up. This is the image you should keep.
Amerika has more than 700 military bases strategically scattered around the world. She is so ready to do war that she divides the world into military commands. Afrika is not exempt from this action despite her compassion, beauty and humbleness. As a matter of fact, Bush created an US African Command in February of 2007. Remember, the war on drugs in Amerika became the war on terror as other ethnicities learned that Amerika might’ve been tired of harassing Black folks. Well, Amerika had to be fascinated with heavily melaninated individuals as she decided to continue any and every war in Amerika that could handicap Blacks and too, fight terror in Africa and protect the oil resources. Of course, a negro general was put in charge. Hell, who knows negroes like negroes? Who is in control of Afrika? The questions must be asked?
Amerika utilized Black thought to become a beautiful, capitalistic, chauvinistic, maniacal, avaricious, inconsiderate nation. Afrikans were brought to Amerika to be enslaved, no doubt. Black and Brown bodies of intellect, diamonds have been stolen and continue to be taken. Today oil is what Amerika needs. And oil is what she gets. Surely, Amerika continues to handpick, educate and influence gullible Afrikans for future use and coups. I guess Amerika has learned that when you can’t go anywhere else - you can go home. Oops! She did it again. She made Afrika unattractive to negroes in the US and Afrika, just so she can have her way. The people must know that if Amerika has her way, we all will be homeless.

Don't Trash It, Paint It White

As a boy I knew how to look at a white woman and what not to say. Public schooling made certain that my exposure to anglos, via the female, instilled respect for authority. And authority was usually white.
I quickly learned that there existed differences in the treatment of whites versus everybody else. I also learned that white stuff was prettier, colder, hotter, nicer, smarter and of course… more uncouth. So, taking advantage of Black folks was easy. Besides, in those days most negroes would denounce anything black before disagreeing with anything white because that in a sense was like denying their Lord. Therefore, when it came to questioning anyone resembling their lord – abuse was all good. In the negro’s mind one argument with authority could prevent entrance into heaven.
Every television minute and magazine cover seemed to bring something to the heavily melaninated mind that made self-hatred inevitable. Surprisingly, my generation has birthed children that overlook history or our story and openly admit their preference or infatuation for today’s snow bunny. Some clowns rap about anticipating little anglo girls becoming of age. Obviously, a waste of studio time. Even if it does sell. Lips, hips, and big asses on white girls are deemed more attractive to the programmed negro mind. The idea of extensions, weave, wigs or clip-ons never enter the negro’s mind, because white folks have “good hair”. And of course, negroes gladly accept less than qualified anglo women to mother and educate Black children. And even in the case of no children, negroes send out a message that suggests the Black woman is not beautiful enough, smart enough or worthy of the Black man’s love.
Sure, the anglo woman has changed anatomically and we do have a Black president, but better choices can be made in terms of love, preservation of legacy and the future of our communities. Negroes continue talks of civil rights and the movement, but it is apparent that most have trashed any inkling of familial traditions and heritage to support and love the worst of their master’s flock. This is progression? Wow! TV has done a job on us! C’mon, you can do better.

Indifferent

Black Amerikans cried, prayed and voted for Obama after Amerika approved of him. Previously, they hadn’t believed a Black man could contend with white candidates and much less, win despite their short run of success. The majority of Amerikans wanted to believe that a man could come and save them from tyranny, high fuel prices, escalated unemployment, and the dwindling dollar. Once the idea of a Black man in the WhiteHouse circulated the people immediately began to upgrade the image of Obama to that of a Black Messiah. Cool! Perhaps, he was more of a black Superman. Yeah! That’s it. The Black community relieved him of any responsibility to the people who looked like him, walked like him, enjoyed the same tastes in food, praised the lord like him or felt the weight of negro expectations like him.
The negro leaders wanted the world to know that Black folks were not monolithic and that a few negroes had arrived. Such negroes were not interested in Obama addressing “black issues” because Obama was running for president of the United States and not of Black Amerika. Obama had an easy ride by avoiding the “white man’s burden”. And few realized that he would not have to tackle “black issues” at a later date. Once elected, he could be indifferent. Of course, this is baffling for any Black man born to a Black woman and having endured the stuff that black skin attracts; who sleeps with an intelligent, beautiful, shapely Black woman and who admits to being an Afrikan-Amerikan. It is known that Obama’s mother was caucasian, but the melanin is there. He is an Amerikan and proudly, an Afrikan (Kenyan). However, his blackness has attracted experiences that warrant his attention to the plight of Black folks in Amerika. It is utterly wrong for anyone to advise the president or any other Black person in a position of prominence or elected capacity to ignore the disenfranchised, marginalized, downtrodden people who get inspiration from the success of someone who looks like them and assumingly, thinks like them. It should be impossible for anyone of color to be indifferent when anyone is suffering. After all, Black folk - the world over - have a record of compassion that cannot be matched.
Last word – the president is a brotha. He can’t deny it despite the race of his mother, but Amerika forgets this fact, daily. Some things aren’t as obvious as others. If he is truly indifferent, it may not be due to his anglo roots, but more to the tests of time he has survived and the influences of negroes who wish to deny their blackness.

For the Love of Amerika

When I was a kid… I recited the pledge of allegiance as if it was written for me. Hell, it was, seemingly, the right thing to do. As I began to age, the pledge and the Lord’s Prayer carried less of a priority as I began to scrutinize their significance. Of course, I had learned of court cases, viewed footage of dogs attacking people who looked like me, read of marches and bombings, feared dudes in white sheets, dreamt of being a firefighter, imagined myself scoring a touchdown for the Dallas Cowboys and eaten hotdogs like they’d make me stronger. Yeah, I did some Amerikan stuff. Ironically, Amerika never noticed me. Not the essence of who I am. Because Amerika and Justice were never blind. I had been raised to appreciate oppression, suppression, and aggression. Strange, it is, that I had been brainwashed to accept abuse. Had I given it any thought - I would have never believed that loving Amerika was necessary, because I realized that Amerika didn’t love me the way she loved those recognized as Amerikans. After all, they were her children.
Now - I am different. I have been in the bowels of Amerika. I have given service to Amerika. I have allowed Amerika to miseducate me. I have given almost half of my earnings to Amerika. I have shown much love to Amerika. Amerika has overlooked my sacrifices and abused me verbally and physically. I have been her scapegoat. I have been the burden of her lover. To think that I have endured any hell that Amerika has offered me is reason enough to not love Amerika. Am I attracted to someone who doesn’t love me?
Yeah, I am here in Amerika. And truly, I could be anywhere other than here. My love and loyalty could wander. I assume that Amerika doesn’t love me. Damn! Why did it take so long for me to realize that she is nothing like my mother? Amerika is never satisfied. I just can’t do enough. Why am I confused when Mother Afrika taught me so much? I guess compassion blinded me. I will not mistreat Amerika, but she must know that I love Afrika - unlike I could ever love her.

What Do Women Really Want?

Here we go, again! I live in Atlanta – Black Hollywood, so to speak. It’s normal to hear women, calling in to radio stations, complaining about the lack of heterosexual, Black men. Naturally, Atlanta has its share of straight brothas. Let’s be real! Not every brotha is bi-sexual, gay, on the down low or a homo thug. Moreover, not every brotha has got game. Some exercise truth, reciprocity, peace, righteousness… the real stuff. There are some serious, single, educated, focused, determined brothas looking for a woman who hasn’t been corrupted by soap opera images or media chosen hunks. Mind you, just as every brotha is not gay, not every sista is hot or desirable. Yeah, Atlanta has a plethora of women by numbers and appearance, but once one applies the methods of choosing a woman the way that women choose men, we learn that a many women are just as disqualified as the brothas they are conditioned to berate.
What do women really want? Is it financial security? And if so, why do they seek out a thug type when the man who sacrifices and provides falls short in bed? Why must men step it up when women seem to perfect lying (about anything), feigning (about feelings), reserving (emotions), and saving the best of themselves for the lottery guy she has been convinced to believe will appear. Sadly, the guy she chooses - is what she deserves at that time.
Yeah, I’m listening. Speak up!