Soldiers die, CEOs prosper

...Came across some interesting stories about a recent study that delved into the numerical irony of wartime deaths, defense companies, and CEO pay. The study found that 34 defense CEOs have been paid nearly $1 billion since the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.

Before 9/11, the gap between CEOs of publicly traded companies and army privates was already a galling 190 to 1. Today, it is 308 to 1. The average army private makes $25,000 a year. The average defense CEO makes $7.7 million.

and it's not just defense companies. them oil boys are grimey too.

The pay gap between the average oil and gas CEO and the average oil worker is 518 to 1. The general national CEO to worker gap is 411 to 1.

That shT is insane. Makes me think of the prison "industry." The report said, "democracies decay when one segment of society flourishes at another's expense." You ain't never lied.

I'm lethal when I see you, there is no sequel

I live by the day only if I survive the last night, damn right, i ain't trying to fight
photo credit: John Daley

August was a fairly good month for the peace movement. One homicide is one too many, but on the reals....it could have been a lot worse. For sure, there were plenty of non-fatal shootings and stabbings. Hell, there was even a hit-and-run that claimed the life of a young brother I chilled with earlier this summer. He happened to be a classmate of several friends of mine. But the reality of what we had feared a hot summer would look like never materialized this August. And I am thankful for it. Thankful that M hasn't called me in the middle of the night with bad news. Thankful (somewhat) that B hasn't had a need to call me to help intervene with anything. Thankful that the two dudes accused of killing Miss Perry are in custody. Thankful that I have not seen a mother cry this month.

No signs of anger or fear cuz you the one in danger
Never share your plans with a stranger, word is born
-Mobb Deep, "Right Back At You"

But with the noticeable uptick in violence this past weekend, I cannot help but wonder if the same shT will resurface. Were heads just down to take a chill pill for August and extend the peace week we had going for a whole month, or is it a more logical, covert reason? Either way, here's to hoping September through December goes a little better this year than it did last year.

You done switched from Nike to Reebok ha

I gotta give it to Juvenile. Ha was one helluva catchy song. I even catch myself and others occasionally throwing a ha in there as a suffix at the end of some profoundly insightful (or asinine) comment. So anyways, that katrina chick came through to smash about a year ago.

You want to know what we gonna do next ha

It both marvels and miffs me to witness the current state of New Orleans. From the Spike Lee documentary to the news and anecdotal reports of certain situations down there, it is simply shameful. To think that we live in a world where education is a national priority and poverty is not as bad as other places, how can things still be so sloppy? And yes, that was a subtle dose of satire. Deal with it.

You ain't even much get a chance to say a word ha

So anyways, that nike/reebok line caught my ear because I was thinking of the saying that goes something like, "wait until the shoe is on the other foot." But if you are substituting shT for shT, then all you're gonna get is some mo' shT, right? Hence, the inflective ha thrown in there for dramatic flair. A sort of self-aggrandizing way of laughing at yourself while looking in the mirror and how silly you look posing.

You don't think you can be stopped ha

A year went by and them levees ain't guaranteed to be as strong. The city ain't as populated as it used to be. Neighborhoods ain't resurrected like they were supposed to have been. Families ain't back together like they should be. And for all we know, a whole host of other shT ain't happen yet or is happening that is detrimental. Tensions between Black and Brown because of the abundance of illegal immigrants finding work at low wages. Natives with dough being denied the opportunity to purchase land while deep-pocket developers gobble up as much property as they can. Bodies still unidentified in coffins, while identified bodies still awaiting pickup. And don't forget to throw in some finger-pointing and polictis as usual to spice things up a bit.

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing out of something
You handle you biz and don't be crying and suffering
-Juvenile, "Ha"

Some n!ggaz recognize the light but they can't handle the glare

It don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine
-Common, The Light

While laid up in bed recovering from this nasty little cold that I randomly caught this weekend, I happened to go through some old files and came across the materials from the Blackout show we had in March. I performed two original pieces and did one reading. I chose to honor Ted Thomas, a man who I admired as a student and have come to know as a huge force in making Roxbury relevant to the outside world. Just thought I'd share his work so that his name does not go unmentioned in the annals of history as someone who lived their life without having an impact on anyone. Nahmean.

To A Sister I Saw/Or Remnisiscing
by Ted Thomas

I remember you...sister
You were young and we played together
On the banks of the Congo
I still remember how
The cool evening sun shone bright on your dark skin
How good the breeze felt
As you and me walked along secret paths
That led us to secret places
How nature and you and me formed a perfect triangle
And the morning sun that woke us up
Smiled a warm and natural smile

I remember you...sister
Working side by side with me
In the southern cotton fields
Toiling and sweating and dying inside
The Congo had dried up and
The sun was cold
I still remember when you were taken from me
And violated by the beast
Slowly our triangle became a square

I remember you...sister
Looking for a job and finding one
And now the hands that used to kiss the Congo
Was dipped into dish water
The knees that used to kneel in the soft grass
Was no kneeling on a hardwood floor
I still remember you bringing home the money
And me
With no job
Planning the budget

I remember you...sister
Standing by the bus stop
With your dashiki dress on
African beads and natural hair
Watching me walk by you
With a college education
Money in my pocket
And a white girl on my arm

But in my blindness
I have found sight
Because I have decided to remember
And looking into a dark past sometimes produces light

So, I remember you...sister
I saw you again, a few minutes ago
I smiled as you passed by and said
"Hello...sister"
You smiled back and said
"...Hello"
I wanted to stop you and ask
Sister, have you forgotten me?
Do you ever reminisce?
Do you ever think back to the time when?
But I didn’t have to
Because your clear dark eyes have already told me
Brother... I remember you too