most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps

i wonder what it'll take to recreate public enemy's "fight the power" video? there are many events that mark specific defining moments in one's life. that video really meant a lot to me. it brought light to feelings and thoughts i had held about the world as i knew it at that point. and as comfortable as i am giving speeches, i am equally uncomfortable. i enjoy being calm as much as possible, because it helps me to collect my thoughts. some folks and even family don't take to well to such nonchalance. it's unfortunate when they take it personal, but oh well. yet i think it was this video that caused some nerve ending to flip out, causing any words that flow from my lips that have a specal meaning or connection to my life's story behind it, i get a little choked up. i can't even describe it, but it's a weird semi-tear-jerker type of voice-over that i never have full control of. Ask any of the 1000+ heads who were in Anaheim in 2003. no control whatsoever. it is what it is.

for anyone from the other 49 states, hearing that I'm from South Carolina usually is marked with an explicit indication of surprise, as though I should have either been lynched already or that it was remarkable that I spoke proper English and knew how to count (yes, count, not even calculus, son.)

but anyways. i can recall being a child and straddling the fence of love versus hate. fear and fate. looking grim circumstances in the eye, yet seeing the (cliched by now because i overuse it) beauty in the hideous. I'll readily admit that there are some things that a child should not be exposed to and so I hope I can shelter the midget as much as I can, without giving him a false reality of what the real-world really entails.

but i am proud of some of the stances i took as a little boy in light of what was going on then to which I've managed to hold on steadastly to this day. i can even recall the demands i made of my father one particular summer that he HAD to take me to the midtown Manhattan offices of the African National Congress. just because. And all the medallions and t-shirts I used to collect on Fulton and Broadway in BK. And now, many moons and movements later, I pray the midget makes similar demands of me.

so the next poem i write will read like a will. or maybe it'll be more like an epilogue. to bring closure to where i am as a person up to this point and a starting ground from here on out.

it's a long way to go when you don't know where you're going
you don't know where you're going when you're lost

fuq it. i'll make my own directions

on my spchrist ish

bringing back that low-end blogger ish. because i am apparently a little too amused by these. oh well. let's start with this roc-a-scene that got posted a while back but i overlooked until randomly checking today. and then let's hit up these videos. for the life of me, i cannot fathom why the new Crooklyn Dodgers 3 joint does not have kweli or papoose or really anybody, just not bleek. but oh well. mos def & jean grae hold things down as always.










it's all love, Gary Payton!

enough already, get over it.

with the red sox done for the year and the Patriots just coasting along without too much excitement in the backfield, it was only natural for the boston media to feast upon the Celtics as the NBA season gets ready to jumpoff. But really though. For one, there are few things I hate. Among them are sports articles about that don't actually talk about sports. You know, the one where it reads more like a crime log or police blotter as opposed to a game preview or recap. If the dude told you what he did, can we just leave it at that. I mean seriously, there are enough athletes (and coaches) out there that are wilding out, riding dirty, and just doing some plain ole dumb shT. But son gets robbed, and you wanna say let's hope he did what he said he did. Burn him at the stake, why don't you?! He's not even the bad guy on the team. Holla at Tony Allen for that.

speaking of crying wolf, the new police commissioer was quoted as saying prevention is the top priority. methinks we may have found someone with a bit of common sense up in this piece, which will be a good thing hopefully. i still think paul joyce would have been a good choice, because brinigng in an outsider does have its drawbacks. especially someon from a town and force much smaller than ours. but the truth is in the pudding. as long as he can be a stron leader with a thoughfully articulated vision and plan of action to achieve goals and prevent crime, then i'm all for it.

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Just trying to be mindful to not defer any of my dreams. Nor hinder the dreams of anyone else. Many things get put off until a later date, yet how often do we get the satisfaction of saying, "you know what? everything on my to-do list is complete. next!" how fly is that?

Is it ever really possible to take a break from life, put everything on hold, and just chillax for a bit? Aside from having a luxurious life where money ain't a thing, an extended sabbatical is sure to hurt those pockets. So imagine suspending your deepest desires for whatever reasons, and not ever being able to devote full attention to them because something always comes up. Sometimes, we can become so burdened with our troubles and daily grind that we fail to see the bigger picture. It happens in life, work, play, and home. Being mired in the details can tamper with your vision.

But even blind people can surf the web.

Dreams can be intangible or palpable; realistic or extreme; short-term or life-long. Yet they're all yours. Keep 'em close. Whether they be goals, accomplishments, fantasies, or plain ole make-believe land type stuff that you scribbled in a 4th grade workbook and kept as a keepsake. Cherish them. Do whatever you can to nurture them into existence. Especially if they are realistic or still captivate your imagination and bring a smile to your soul. Because you'll be liable to explode knowing you never truly gave it your best shot.
Langston ain't never lied.

Long is the road to freedom from self-destruction

Welcome to my Slaughtahouse, it's like a playpen
Welcome to my Slaughtahouse, there's no escapin
-Masta Ace, "Slaughtahouse"

Today, I felt like sharing some grin(?)-provoking musical parodies in light of some ideas that crossed my mind. Ironically, both of these cats are also well-known poets in their respective local scenes. So, on the opposite spectrum of Ms Peachez and Weird Al, these are sure to raise an eyebrow or two, but also spark some debate; somewhere. But this ain't for all ears, B. Watch your back.

Jamarhl "Uno The Prophet" Crawford - "Hustlin Remix"

Bomani "D'mite" Armah - "Read A Book"

These took me back to the days of Masta Ase and and MC Negro. Classic times. It's crazy because when I tell people that some of my favorite movies include CB4, Bulworth, Belly, and Fear of a Black Hat; I get this peculiar head tilt that says, "what rocks are you smoking?!" But some people get it I hope. It's just a weird approach I take to watching some things. Kinda like how the Boondocks is great social commentary and funny at the same time, along with a few other shows. There's a delicate line that has to be balanced. You don't wanna risk dumbing down your content, which in turn will turn off some heads because you just staight up insulted their intelligence. But on the other hand, no matter how far you stoop, there's always someone still mentally residing in a lower place. It's unfortunate, but true nonetheless. So, I'm sure someone will enjoy these, probably even more than I did.

In the end, I'm just trying to come up with ways to blend the music with the technology. Mash-ups have captured my attention for a while (here's one I created), but now I need to find some ways to really merge the two for some real projects. Find a way to somehow capture the interest in the music and business side of things with a deeper awareness and then understanding of how the technology works and the curiosity and experimentation required to break down the details; much like some artists can paint vivid pictures (visual & and in free verse) off the dome. Although I am feeling the creativity behind Lexus next generation technology.

As an aside, you wanna know what's really crazy?! I swear I caught the "Sweat of My Balls" joint that was on the CB4 soundtrack, and it's kind surreal how it does sound like recent music. There goes that life imitating art imitating life cycle again. Skeet, skeet, anyone?

Shells hit the ground and blood stained the dice game

Yellow tape barricades sidewalks where bodies lay
-GZA & Inspectah Deck, "Cold World"

Had some sleepless nights lately. Including tonight. Been trying to wrap my head around some unsettled family stuff and a conversation I had a few weeks back. Being far, far removed from all relatives has it advantages. But it also has more than its fair share of drawbacks.

I definitely do not try to please or appease everyone, but some things should never be on shaky ground. I'm real big on family. So I make sure I try and have a current phone number, email, or streets address for any and every relative of mine. And this is regardless of whether they are close with the rest of the family, which "sect" they're down with, and if they've been written off by everyone else. I try and tell people I listened to MOP for a reason. That "First Family" talk they yell out hit close to home. I just switched it up to Family First.

So anyways, there are a few cousins that I worry about on a weekly basis. At least it ain't daily. But still, there are times that I wish I had more of an visible presence in their lives so that we could talk and chill more often. I learned a lot of things the hard way. And I am still learning. But sometimes what we learn ain't necessarily even the right thing. Imagine a boxer learning the wrong stance. Or a shooting guard perfecting an awkward jumper. After hours and hours of practice, you've mastered the wrong shT. Won't that be some hard shT to un-learn? Word. Flip that to life and it's a mutha. And while I am far from a saint, there are plenty of ways where I could have benefitted from the shared presence of a few experienced souls and in turn, I could've shown them a thing or two. But for now, it'll just have to remain a lamet. Because unless I plan to uproot, having face-time of any substance just ain't happening. Unless I straight up order a kidnapping up in this piece. But then, wouldn't that just ruin the whole lesson?
Back to the drawing board, I guess.

So now, on to the tortured souls that Im not related to.

How do you maintain your sanity in a world where you have to act on behalf of the victimized when in fact your instincts compell you to mentally side with the offender? Are you less compassionate and show minimal empathy for someone knowing that the person that committed the crime was someone you used to work with before their innocence was lost. It's an odd proposition. On one hand, some muthafuqas need to get locked up. But conversely, seeing is believing, and being aware of all of the causal factors that lead to certain behaviors and lifestyless can cause somebody on the right side of the law to lose faith in the very system that has to balance the rights of good versus evil; offender versus victim; criminal versus citizen. It's a tough, tight, cramped space to be in and takes huge amount of guts and courage to stick it through. But some folks need to be on that side of the coin having been on the other side previously. Two wrongs don't make a right. But in the quest for redemption, the hope is in the healing. So, to that deer in the headlights in the cold world that is philly, keep ya head up, homie. We got you.

I would change the subject, too

A new week. A new lease on life. Well, maybe a new payment on my installment loan of life. Let me go ahead and "put something on it."

DP used an interesting and entertaining way to invoke repetition in a prepared speech at Boston Common earlier today. You can't front on crowd control and a clear message.

Hearing him took me back to the good ole days. I really should reconnect and get back down with Toastmasters. I've let that slack long enough.

I've been writing a little more as of late. Nothing great, but some promising ideas and sketches have developed in my head so maybe I'll get around to putting pen to paper one of these days and bang that out. Just some stuff that is more personal that I need to document for myself. Some will have to coincide with my next NYC trip. This may be my longest stretch of months having not visited. Definitely need to check on some people who otherwise are dead to the world unless I go hunt them down. And it's getting cold outside, so I need to holla at Amtrak, because the chinatown buses are not what's hot in the streets right now. Well, actually...

Also, I've found myself making more time for gym stuff aside from just playing ball. So that's always a good thing. But let's just say that playing 2-hand touch football is just as painful and sore-inducing than playing tackle. But my QB skills were not as on-point as they were last week. Yikes!

But I do still need to take a field trip and chill out for a little bit. And the Boogie Down Bronx does not count! Maybe Jax or the Chi. Catch a game, eat some grub, chill on the water. Yeah, that sounds about right.

The Disco fronted on me this weekend. The jury is still out on how bad it'll hurt the pockets once this week begins. But I'm saying, yo? How you gonna just randomly start tripping like that? Speaking of tripping, can someone please help RD find a job. This chick is tripping something hard. I swear she gonna have to start smoking some grass. How you gonna out-mellow me?! Some people...

Apparently, what started out as a focused post is now just a meandering rant about random idle chatter. It's almost like me talking to myself and I got a little too loud so a few people overhear me. Oh well. If you knew what I originally was going to write, you'd change the subject, too.

Brain games and names changed

Everyone came in the same chains
Caught with the same aim
-Def Jef (The West Coast Rap All-Stars), " We're All in the Same Gang"

The Louis D. Brown Peace Institute's new website went live yesterday at approximately 7:15 pm. lol

And apparently, Deval Patrick's camp is not as on-point as one would think. Naturally, he got caught out there with the violent offender stuff, but now are you really going to back-pedal so much that you end up fronting on the survivor community? Please don't play yourself, homie. Don't pull the same tricks and simply use them as a photo-op and quotable. Come correct with this one. As unfortunate as it is that the Institute is needed, it definitely has done more than its fair share of good in this city and around the country. Nuff respect is due. Let's hope this makeshift press conference scheduled for Saturday actually has some substance to it.

You can check out the Peace Institute's new site at www.louisdbrownpeaceinstitute.org and if you feel compelled to support, you can either volunteer your time or donate with your checkbook (or PayPal account).

And if you like what you see and need a site built or know someone who does, holla at the god.

when i start to hate me, it's time to pull the plug

so with a few brain cells now recovered, i recall why i used the hoodlum and juelz statements before.

For starters, some people understand me just fine, but others are all too amazed and shocked that I am not a nut-hugger when it comes to Jay-Z. He has his moments, but overall he just doesn't move me...at least not like he could. But again, those that get it, get it, and those that don't will continue to worship the ground he walks on. So anyways, son has some new jonts out on the block and much talk about his impenidng return. yawn. But I was intrigued by the recent controversy and backlash regarding his visit to Ghana and now-cancelled trip to China. And all that hype about the African water crisis tour a few months back and look what became of it. A damn shame.

My man Phonte of Little Brother wrote a brief braindump about why he is doing away with his alter-ego, Percy Miracles, after stumbling acros Ms. Peachez. He always brings it raw. And always makes some very insightful observations abut life in general.

And lastly, this video (alternate link) is quite intriguing; albeit disturbing as well. It will definitely raise some eyebrows, cause some laughs, and spur some uneasy questions. With a name like, Y'all Should Get Lynched, it begs for attention regardless of how much of the song you can stomach. But it did immediately cause me to think of the Pittsburgh preacher who used to wild out on callers to his cable access show. I'm not even certain the word hypocritical even fits here. Yet, I am still scratching my head for both of them.

Just 'cause i have hood tendencies, doesn't make me a hoodlum...

They think juelz santana is spittin a manuscript for life
-Miles Turner

somehow managed to draw a blank after coming up with a title. i did actually have a theme at some point, but lost track of time and my thoughts. oh well. a picture will just have to suffice.



ps: cold showers in the morning SUCK!

we made the front page of the city's website!

the school district's cable access programming started yesterday. thus, so did the unveiling of its official logo and brand identity. plus, we got mention in a press release from the mayor's office. hopefully, we can lure in some new clients on the strength of the free marketing. time to network while the blurb is still on the main city site...

got the figure-four on the kick, choke-holding the snare

the empty bottles is hollow, wind blowing inside 'em
the flow and the rhyming got my alignment to a science
-Hi-Tek ft Nas & Floetry, "Music For Life"

rock with me on this one. Hi-Tek's next jump-off will be just that, the ledge off of which you will jump into the deep abyss of musical delight.

juice from the streelight, it almost could've blowed us up

got me all choked up over here. this song is mellow, raw, dope, and very beautiful. it has serioulsy been on repeat all weekend something serious. the album (Hi-Teknology 2) isn't even out yet, but it's definitely going to have to get copped. you can't front on the realness. i love how you can never judge a book by its cover. cuz you end up fooling yourself guessing shT that ain't accurate. because hip-hop ain't dead, homie. never was. this music gives me hope. this music gives me strength. it brings a smile to my face on those days when simply waking up is a feat (and blessing) in itself.

through my bassline, i'm living through it.

you gotta believe.

I resent what inspires me

The struggle between apathy and irony
-Murs & Slug, "All I Can Do"

word. made me pause in my tracks for a bit. had me thinking if anything that inspires me also cause me to not like it as well. like umm yeah.

i am inspired by creativity. power. respect. progress. love. originality. passion. adaptability. confidence. tenacity. poise.

but do i resent those same traits? in a way, yes. when i lack them. or see when their need or presence would prove useful.

but anyways, the irony part is what really drew me in. because i received an interesting email today about some things going down at Wheelock College. I just found it timely given what I wrote a recently. But I won't front. I don't resent anything the benefits the Black male. I'm entitled to my personal bias. Nevertheless, like my homegirl M said, sometimes the best things happen by surprise. Start planning for Halloween now.

The Education of Black Male Youth Lecture Series
Responding to the Crisis Confronting Black Male Youth Crisis.

Marginalized. Endangered. These terms are used with increasing regularity to describe the plight of young Black males in the education system.

Wheelock College and the Delores Walker Johnson Center for Thoughtful Leadership at ATLAS Learning Communities are responding to the crisis confronting Black male youth with a series of public lectures, beginning October 18, to address the education of young black males. The series is being held in conjunction with a Principal Leadership Seminar Series.

• In Boston, there are 15,575 Black male students, approximately 24 percent, in the school system.
• Black students received 72 percent of the out of school suspensions, while White students received 7 percent.
• Black students accounted for 69 percent of classifications for “Emotional Disturbance”
  
• 53 percent of “Specific learning disabilities” while White students made up 13 percent and 18 percent of those so classified. (Schlott Foundation, 2004)
  

Please join us for these free lectures that will be held from 4 to 6 p.m. in the Lucy Wheelock Auditorium located at 180 The Riverway, Boston.

The music started in the hearts and drums, from another land

This is the music, that we give tribute to
They gave it to us, that's why we give it to you
The jazz music... the jazz music
-Gangstarr

The Beantown Jazz Festival was dope as usual. but next year, J4DA realy, really, really needs to be up in that piece yo. There should be no excuses. Anything else would be uncivilized. both dailies had an art-icle and i took some pictures. But it was a little different seeing how the Berklee machine got put in motion. And while it' snot necessarily a bad thing, it still leaves a faint resemblance to gentrification yet i can quite put my finger on it precisely. oh well. and apparently my man Cee-Lo is branching out, so I gotta show love and say, Suppport the Ecelctic Kitchen!

Shake the snakes, pimp the system

What Happened to the Revolt Black Athlete?

He traded in his Kufi for a New Era

maybe, just maybe he still lurks in the shadows quietly building momentum. maybe he shoots cops, ODs on pills, and borrows piss to pass drug tests in order to shield the man from his true intentions.

but what's that you say? you thought he said he was the man? nah, homie. completely different context. but maybe it's just fiction and all for naught. maybe he has retreated to the recesses of suburbia unwilling to risk life, limb, and liberty to speak out loud like jim brown roared and as tall as lew alcindor stood. maybe the vasectomy of the black male athlete is a parallel to the black male hero figure because they barely have their balls and their words left.

just like a Rochester customer
God blessed the mothers and younger brothers of hustlas
Cause she don't wanna sob at his wake
But he wanna follow in his steps, bend his hat, learn his shakes
Master his swagger in the bathroom mirror, cop a Chevy, steady mob in his place

rendered at a disadvantaged in a disproportionate number of circumstances yet unwilling to chalk up the gap to the status quo. he presses on. unrelenting in his quest for success, progress, and redemption. he knows of the sacrfice. he bears the marks of one hundred whip lashes across his neck and back as he shoves black gloves in his socks for insurance just in case he gets fronted on. just in case heads wasn't ready. because he grunts when he dunks and dances in end zones with a carefree zeal because he knows it is about more than just the score. the victory. the one-up. the come-up. much more than a snapshot of his life.

and they wonder why athletes became role models. they used to hold us down. idolization was fly because the idols were the flyest. yet the kufi is still there. he wears many hats. from fitteds to doo-rags and kangols and skully caps. he is the sheep in wolf's clothing.

With a different face from the one that he use to face his mama
If you look close, You'll see it consist of a smile that hurts, an ice grill, and a trace of trauma
-Lupe Fiasco, "Just Might Be Okay"