I'm the voice of soldier in the yard with the banger

Had the ill convos in my head lately. Just been thinking about the pace at which the world moves and where I envision myself best positioned to make moves they way I want to make them.

Wearing sneakers til our soles/soul is gone

MissThang hit me off with a horoscope a while back that all of a sudden became very literal this week. It was quite surreal how the topic came full circle and related to the current job situation. I like being a consultant, contractor, or whatever you want to call it. I thrive on being able to call my own shots (for the most part) and the flexible schedule truly is a blessing. I've always been fond of doing things for dolo (ahem...independently) so a new leaf may turn where I become an actual employee again. But I'm not going to stress it much. Whatever happens will happen.

These are my days of reality

However, I am rethinking my health plans. I play ball a lot (not as much as a few years ago), but still I get a good 5-7 hours in of pick-up games per week - which is a good thing in my book. But I still suck at doing push-ups. So I need to map out a new plan to hit the weights a little more consistently. Sigh. The gut has got to get better. But I do like how a few folks have noticed the gradual changes, so I'm not hating on the handles that much. Trust me, wearing jeans as a kid with a size 'husky' tag on your butt is no very becoming. As a matter of fact, I'm becoming nauseous reminiscing about it. Back burner...

I'm a poet among slums, crimes, and crack addicts
-Cormega, "Dirty Game"

I have found myself involved in some very engaging discussion the past month about youth, struggle, crime, hip-hop, gangs, beef, arts, activism, love, and technology. Seemingly disparate, but all conected in some way, shape, or form. Life is like a puzzle of interchangeable pieces that come and go and fit into their own spaces with a uniqueness meant for exploring the game at a distance and up-close. It's how we play our position that determines how and when the puzzle gets completed.

Kindred

flyer for this Friday's show
that I'm helping to plan and perform in.
Didn't end up getting printed as the official flyer,
but I still think it was dope on my part,
so excuse me while I pat myself on the back real quick. word.

You've Got To Be Fuqing Kidding Me

A few weeks back, an editorial (and accompanying cartoon) appeared in the Bay State Banner and I wasn't feeling it and threw in my two cents. Apparently, they got the memo, but somehow misplaced it since then. Peep the steez (link only good for current issue: March 16, 2006 - Vol. 41, No. 31).

If it looks like a thug...

A common practice of youth is to rebel against their parents and other adults as part of the process of establishing their own identities. Sometimes this can lead to unfortunate results.

Police in Boston have begun rousting youths who have the appearance of being gang-bangers. This is part of a strategy to reduce the growing murder rate. Unfortunately, many law-abiding youths have been caught up in the drag net.

The problem is that the adolescent style is to dress like gangbangers. In a pathetic effort to remedy the situation, some youths at a recent meeting prepared a sign which read, "My baggy pants don’t make me a thug." However, the youth who dress like thugs will generally be viewed that way by the police as well as the general public.

Police have been indiscriminately arresting youths who are lawfully in public housing projects. The youths win the cases but they will then have a criminal record. In the future when they apply for a job their CORI will follow them. Although there will be no conviction, many employers believe that "where there is smoke there is fire." Or as some people believe, "Why would the police have arrested them if they are really innocent?"

It is outrageous that the police indiscriminately arrest black youngsters who have committed no crime. Adults must vehemently object to such a policy. On the other hand, it is difficult for adults to understand why the young would voluntarily wear clothes that would cause them to masquerade as thugs.

Perhaps the young do not understand that to a considerable extent their clothes are a uniform, which inform others who they are and what they do. Adults do not wear the hip-hop fashions unless they are athletes, musicians or super-animated adolescents. National Basketball Association officials have banned that attire for the players.

It is inexcusable for the police to persecute the youth because of their appearance. But it is also time for young African Americans to consider a style of dress that indicates that they are disciplined and serious about getting ahead.

Disinformation

Many citizens choose not to stand for public office because their right to privacy ends the moment that they announce their candidacy. Deval Patrick, a candidate for governor, learned that lesson last week when the Boston Globe published as extensive story on his residences in Milton and Richmond.

The problem with these "exposes" is that they often shed little light on the character or competence of the candidates. Now Globe readers know that Patrick has had a successful professional career, he owns luxurious dwellings and he pays his mortgages.

Patrick's democratic opponent, Tom Reilly, attempted to turn this situation to his advantage by proclaiming that he is the only candidate who has been unable to acquire a substantial net worth. Only the most naive voter would find financial ineptitude to be beneficial.

African American voters, as well as whites, should be encouraged that Patrick has been able to rise from modest circumstances to attain such professional and financial success. And even more important, he is now willing to devote his energies as governor to providing the conditions that will enable others to realize their dreams.


"Man, maybe we'd do a little better if we dressed a little preppy."

A fool can't play the wise but the wise can act a fool

been slackin on my mackin like a mutha, but it's all gravy

mad muthatfuqas just up and stopped writing all together, adding to more stress in trying to locate alternative voices and thoughts that i want to read. there's plenty out there, i just ain't feelin 'em all.

so anyways, it's type hectic in this life sht right now.

from regular growing pains, to new leaves, mushy sht, and niggarama, it's a wonder what busy people do to keep themselves sane...cuz i ain't even that much of a busy no mo.

yes, it's damn near 3pm on a monday and i'm BS'ing, but i got a flexible gig like that, and whut.

Fuck what your ego say
Don't take shit for granted homey we don't play
All's fair in love and war, piece of cake
But beef is rare like a bloody piece of steak

hell, i can't even remember all that's been going on to give an adequate recap aside from saying that i'm trying my best to walk the straight and narrow and and thankful i got some good people on my team to hold me down.

like the atlantic's waves or a geechie creek's tide, the high and lows of this year are a mix of joy, frustration, enlightenment, and tension.

each day i take a step to be more activein the lives of local youth and then it seems a step backwards was taken at the same time.

Love or fear, the fear last longer
But love is stronger, so I stay loyal to love with honor
You got those who wanna take that for weak
Be prepared, they'll test you in front of your peeps

for example, i hit up critical breakdown last night. it was a great event, good and boisterous crowd, and dope performances. but i'll be damned if less than 10 minutes the show was to end, a fuqing fight broke out upstairs. just and ugly ending to a beautiful event with a focus of proving a safe, drama-free space for youth expression. same shT, different decade is all that runs through my mind. but then i can kinda feel the apprehension of adults to even get involved. on one hand, you wanna jump in and break sht up, but then you don't wanna end up getting shanked your damn self. so it's a catch-22 that's existed for a long time, yet no resolution ever seems clear. make me think of the stories my grandfather used to tell me about his teen gangs on the Lower East Side back in the late 40's and 50's.

You'll never fit up in my shoes so don't try 'em on
I always tear it up, I'm 'bout as calm as a quiet storm
Legendary lyricist, nice guy persona
My songs celebrate life and you can play 'em for your momma