quicksand IN passing

Now forgive me, but folk here still has yet to supersaturate his brain cells such that they are inundated with lipofuscin granules or to the point of rupturing liposome’s filled and releasing hydrolytic enzymes in my brain. I know I may have a bazaar taste in literature and that I have yet to read Tru to the game or Fly Girl, but truth is that I have read a nice coterie of books.

One that I have thought of recently in jest was Nella Larsen’s Quicksand and Passing (Looks like Cap-city huh). Nella Larsen (1891-1964) was a writer of the famed Harlem renaissance (yawl would love this book). She used vivid imagery and classic symbolism and penned stories of the 1920s on the issues of racial identity, classism, and sexuality and of particular importance, `passing,' – you know black folk light enough to pass for being white. I am reminded of this because I have wanted to get this off my chest for some while and because Former US congressman Bob Barr was selected by the Libertarian Party as its candidate for November's presidential election.

Historically, I have always had love for folk; he was never really GOP-esque if you looked at his voting record outside of the 2nd amendments. Not to mention his vehement protection of this amendment may be one of the factors that engendered me to me out side of being able to tell he was a well read mutha shut yo mouth.

Many in the GOP are upset because think it will do major damage to the candidacy of the Republican presupposed nominee John McCain. With them, I agree. Now back to the point. I have always looked and Jones on CSPAN and always felt he was a brother. From the way he spoke to the way his body motions evinced themselves. Now I am sure of it.

I think deep in his heart he is trying to help his race by taking votes away from McCain such to put his Brother, Barack Obama in the Whitehouse. Like I said before, I may either have too many brain cells or not enough. What says you on my recent dialectical rumination?


Sidebar: chk my folk out at Pimpin Pens, they did a tribute to me LOL


Blog Amnesty: Pimpin Pens, Eb, Jaybee, Urban Scientist, kawana oliver, 12kyle, emeritus, ErynMyisha, eclectik-relaxation, Lina, Kyfs, Dfitz, Zufan, Taffy, No Slappz, Kelso, immoral matriarch, Bookfraud, soul cruzer, memphiz soul, hairs my story, Dreamcop08, battle dress u, Love & Kiwi, mizz ninae, averge american patriot and no limit

mockingbirds never die

One of favorite novels of all time, next to A CLOCK WORK ORANGE is TO KILL A MOCKING BIRD by Harper Lee. I read by accident in high school. At the time I was reading a book on self publishing and one of the things that stuck with me was the section on dedication. They wrote that THE POST MAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE was rejected 29 times before publishing and that Lee's book was rejected 21 before being published. I read after that and was enamored with the girl in the story, Scout and her father Atticus.

The setting was the 1930's in Alabama. It is ironic to me that today, the same Alabama small town, Monroeville has a real life scenario playing in that community that is what the subject of the book was about - racial injustice. Parents of several African American middle school students students have filled a law suit alleging discrimination purporting that African American students are being called racial slurs, being the recipients of more harsher punishment and being denied the privilege of taking advanced placement and honor classes.

Strange thing is that it is the only middle school in the county and that 78% of the students are African American.

Students have been punished for small dress code violations that are not even listed as violations such as having a shirt with missing buttons. When one student was allegedly refered to by a white student as a "black monkey", she told her teacher who in essence responded saying just sit down because you do look like a black monkey.

Again, Ironic aint it. Seem the more we progress as human beings, the more we stay the same. It appears that human nature cannot obviate that spirit that sides with evil that desires to hold folks back, or be envious or would rather focus on differences more than likeness. And of all places, in the city that was made famous by one book. One would suspect that such a place would have an added bonus to absolve such an historical past. And I know one should never kill a mocking bird, but maybe, mocking birds never die.

40 stacks up, 1 stack down

house cleaning: 1] no computer or cell phone for past 2 days 2] Im easy, easy like sunday mornings, 3] Shouts out to Malik and his Brother Punch - their club opens friday.

Was at the shop from 830am to 830pm yesterday. Managed to give out wings to three angels. But I aint mad for things are moving along slowly but surely. Although I know readers may be tired of me reporting on my progress regarding getting this store for dogs off the ground, I am thinking this will be the last one for a while but I am excited and I still have a strong interest in economics.

So this is for all of those that respect and value intellectual prowess and astuteness over cognitive dissonance. As well it is for those who place passion over brain cells and those that placate their suffering with excuse upon excuse, upon excuse. In this new age of global economics and multilateralism, I have come to the conclusion that only those that will be able to eat will be the ones who can take care of themselves and who pay themselves. Having a job or sitting behind a desk just won cut it anymore. Let alone is such a path to financial stability or security. Sure, I had a desk job for man years and it paid well but only because I had the capacity to write fundable grants that allowed me to do what I wanted to do (work when I wanted, leave when I wanted and travel to Africa all expenses paid). And I know some folks don’t have the desire, nor patience, nor cerebral disposition to earn a PhD – I was lucky.

I started this effort with a dream for I feel that dreams do not become the person but rather people become their dreams. A dream and 40 stacks of my own loot, no loan, no business plan. Now the horizon is clearer, especially after talking to my boy Malik yesterday. He is opening a bar up right next to my boy’s bar (Mbar) on Peters Street in Atlanta. He said to stop by and check it out and that the grand opening will be this Friday. A reformed hustler doing good. He says that I am his mentor and that I will have lifetime VIP status. It made me smile the mentor part that is.

After seeing the joint he asked me to have a drink with him. I did and waked and saw a cat that went to Morehouse with me. I try to introduce them and find out the cousins. After a while we all can back to my store. They bought books, dog food [Evangers Pheasant and Brown Rice] and treats. Just day two of having my doors open and almost $600. At this rate I can gross a stack every 4 to 5 days. This without weekends

Now I have to calibrate a way to maintain inventory based on sales and length of time for delivery. Yep 40 stacks up, one stack down and 39 to go to break even. Then my dreams of shops in Hilton Head and South Beach are sure to follow.

And I feel good, I mean the community of my folk (young black male business men and fellow Morehouse alum) and how we are doing it. Not by making music talking about buss it babies, not by making TV shows or movies like the Flavor of Love or the Wire that spoon feed stupidity to plebeians that lack moral fiber and tend to display already poor judgment. Not by selling drugs, nope, with brain cells. For in the eye of the storm hope is born – here I am.

giving wings to angels

Point of order: Thanks for all of yawl who sent them emails telling me about a certain blog mac daddy’s vitriol towards me. And as requested, I did not read nor respond to it. I am a man of my word. But don’t sleep, if I can do battle on blogs run by white supremacist and racist and Aryans, after death threats even, I can do it there. But I am a man of my word and do what I say. So I’m not sure if I should quote Rodney King “can’t we all just get alone”, or Michael Jackson “Beat it” or myself “It aint like getting hit by a car. Plus I didn’t even know I had a woman. So I will leave you with this: some folks think not getting caught in a lie is the same thing as telling the truth.

2] I got 6 slabs of ribs for $14.95 Saturday.

I am at the shop now, waiting on a delivery of dog food and some more dog clothes. You know UPS, between 8 and 5. I slept well last night. I don’t know if it was the Tequila or the slab or ribs and half a loaf of white bread, but I slept well. Such wasn’t the case the night before.

Jones, Main, folk here couldn’t sleep at all. I felt like a kid waiting on the first day of school, or for the fictitious Sinter Klaus to come sliding down my chimney. I was waking up every hour looking at my cell phone to se if I had missed my alarm for Monday the 25th, II would open my store.

Although my bags, flyers or business cards were not in yet, I was ready. For all off that night, even though I don’t have an old school cash register, I was hearing cash register rings in my head. As such, I felt like I had been thrown back into “It’s a Wonderful Life”. You know the movie they play each Christmas with Jimmy Stewart in it. Especially the scene when he had lost everything and had met his angel and gone to the bar. The angel told the bar tender that each time a bell rings that an angel gets their wings.

I love that move. Reminds you that no matter what you do, folks will criticize and attempt to undermine you via deceit (the banker). Even through jealousy and envy. It shows that the best way to win or succeed is too turn the other cheek. It reminds us to always speak your mind and never stutter and to live by your own actions and control your reality. Guess it means that folk can bend but never bee broken.

For today, I’m gone be giving out wings too angels while the devil or any form of veiled evil creeps and lurks. Cha Ching.

Sticks & stones

point of order: lil momma woke up at 715am, so no rest for me again. food for thought after breakfast.
When I was a child, we used to say a lot of little sayings. The two I remember most are when a person wore red we would say “red, red pee in the bed, wash your face with cornbread” and “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. So I decided to post the most painful statements that I can remember ever said to me.

8 – You may never walk again and your mouth will never be the same (Dr. After I was hit by a car while walking across the street).

7 – You are to bright to believe that people will want to read stories with black male characters that are smart, talk with that kind of vocabulary and come from the streets (Publisher from major imprint)

6 – You have to sign over the 75,000 to us or loose your job. You didn’t ask us for permission (Former Employer, Morehouse School of Medicine)

5 – X has been a better father to your son than you (former wife). Funny too because he has lived with me my entire life.

4 – You have to pick me or your son. I want to kill him and I hope he dies (former paramour who once lived with me).

3 – I lost it (2.5 carat engagement ring). Just buy me another one.

2 – The baby isn’t yours, its OT’s (well know married author). Said by person who said the aforementioned)

1 – You will never amount to anything and be nothing (Former High School teacher). BTW Whenever I go home I go to her office and tell them to say Dr. Stephens is here to see you. LOL

I guess the point is that I can forgive and I forgave all. But folks should never expect you to forget what you say to them, I don’t or can’t, do you? That’s why the pic me displaying a stab wound and a laceration by a knife. As long as I see them I wont forget but break my heart, say foul things to me, just don’t break my bones or cut me.

So with that said, all yawl friends and lovers and families be safe this weekend on your adventures, romantic escapades, canoe trips and visits to grand ma – me I got a dog store to get open. vote

A good day to die

Preface: Good Luck to the Atlanta All-Stars 16u Baseball team (my son's traveling team). Only All African American team in the Smoltz-Grisson Wood Bat Tourney. They 18-2.

As I sit at home in my library I write this. To often, we fail to recognize via our selfish ways that each day we breathe or see the sun or rain that it is a gift. To often we miss out on accepting the beauty of the lives that we live and the bountiful blessings that we have for in our selfish ways, we think only of ourselves.

Today I have decided to live each day as my last, as if I have less than a year to live. I will get this business off the ground for the prosperity of my children. I will put in practice all involved in getting at least 5 books out before the end of the year. For I believe in creating my own reality and that time waits for no one and that if I think It I can do it – let it be written, let it be said, let it be done.

To many of us prefer to whine, cry, fuss, bicker and complain about shit that is really beyond out control. What we can control are our thoughts and as such, our dreams, which don’t mean jack if we don’t look forward and take the time to make them real. Too many of us segment our lives into years, days, months or even hours. Not folk hear, either I do it or I don’t. I won’t wait, I won wait for anything and if I want something or desire something best believe folk here will get it. We are not thankful for what we got.

I will not live my life to impress any one other than myself so when I die, I can say to myself that I was the truth. You see, I am observant, I walk around and see homeless folks pushing grocery baskets with their life belongings and I see the same folks sleeping under highways. When I go to a gas station, I may not like the high prices, but even without a job or income coming in I don’t fret. For I know I am not walking in a place where I have to worry about folk walking around with explosives tapped to their body that can take me and everybody else out. I know I am not sleeping in the rain after an earthquake because I lost my home. See I’m a realist and one living in a real world. So all I am saying is stop bitching when you don’t have if you cant acknowledge what you do have. Don’t wait or put things off, and certainly don’t make excuse, if you want something or some one get it. If you express desire show it and let nothing get in your way.

Sure voice what you believe you have earned and deserve. But when gifts are bestowed upon you, rather financial or in Idea, take advantage of the opportunity. Don’t complain or sulk. Get out and do. For if you wont do it for yourself nobody will. Not to mention when you have and don’t acknowledge such as a blessing, you become an adage – you don’t miss something until it’s gone

So this is for all yawl lame ass fakers (shit talkers) who say you want to start a business but are to scared to take your foot off of first base for you can not steal second without doing so. This is for all of you all who say or tell others you love them but don’t realize love is a verb, a corpus of actions that implicate such an expression. For those of you who say but do not place any action behind your words - true, the written word is powerful, but it is worthless without action. Don’t say you love me and send my son to war Mr. President, don’t say you love me and don’t comfort, kiss or assist me. Don’t say you want to write a book but don’t know what it takes to do such. Talk again is empty with out action. I don't care if it is a man or a woman you desire and you have one or a book you want to read. Live free or die. The present is a gift jones mane.

I know I wont. In fact I know I will. I will not ask anyone to do for me what I can do for myself. And those of us who do are merely folks that use others instead of standing on our own too feet. Especially if we only take and never give. So I will do what I print and think, for when I die, I and not others will understand I am the truth, the shit. So take this as motivation, for the way I see it, and maybe It I s the Creek Indian in me, it as any day is a good day to die. vote

Holy Cow

Something I will continue to do until I can get me a stable and suitable supply of throat and kitty cat (any volunteers), will be to talk about the economy and some politics. Yawl know I try to be about money. Especially being the only person in my household in a position to provide food clothing shelter, oh and don’t forget the mortgage. But I have had to step my game up. I thought I was rather astute when I came to such but nowadays, you got to be on everything, or in a position to monitor every economic indicator, even new ones that pop up that never would have been considered as such.

My favorite indicator outside of my statements from my investments is the price of oil. Oil just hit the $130.00 a barrel mark today. Now I feel that the$150.00 mark will be just around the corner, maybe by the end of the summer or best the end of the year. If I were a commodities man, I’d lunge out there and say it is a good time to go long – maybe I should call my broker. I have read that folks are even purchasing oil futures almost a decade in advance.

What is really troubling, like I said were things that I use as indicators that I never have before like copper and wheat. Copper prices are climbing fast, so fast that even the Chinese government via the China's State Reserve Bureau (SRB) is trying to bring down prices to cover fast-approaching short positions. Especially since one usd = 8.1 yuan. But that is just the short of it. Over here, although historically copper, a vital and frequently overlooked metal, from an investment perspective, to me it’s just as good or like Gold. I mean of al the metals used it ranks third.

But due to its increasingly rising cost, folks been stealing copper like it was cable. Namely because copper and scrap metal prices have soared 32 percent this year alone and because it is selling at about $2.65 per pound. Then add to the aforementioned, wheat contracts for May hit a record of $13.50 on the Chicago Board of Trade. And just like oil and copper, they are driven by global demand, a weak dollar and a shortage of supply. Which means they drilling in the regular budgets of folk like u and me.

Don’t even mention that World food supplies are shrinking while the population worldwide is increasing. And don’t sleep, they all connected because higher food prices is are correlated directly with higher energy prices. And they way this sexless mind thinks, things can and will only get worse. And places like the Ukraine and the US are stock piling wheat now.

So the next time you buy that slice of pizza, I wouldn't be suprised if you screamed "holy cow", cow refering to copper, oil and wheat.

Side Bar: BigBoi of Outkast stopped by the store today - good look folk and enjoy the book.

also interview on npr is tonight, i think, i mean i know he with kabc in los ang.

The men all pause

Ok. First, folk here cooked prime rib tonight such that the meat pulled from the bone – dang.

That said, this is for the men, even the lurkers, but I wont hate on any woman responding on behalf of her men – but not what you want, but actual behaviors evinced. So here goes.

1] How do you respond or feel when your favorite teams looses, to a rival or in a championship game like the Super Bowl (true I was reminded of Memphis – Kansas last night, guess I’m not over it)?

2] How do you live your life such to show your spiritual connection to a higher power?

3] How do you see your role as a father, and what does it mean to be a father to you?

4] If you are the single provider responsible for feeding, clothing, shelter or any other necessity or frivolous request for your family, how do you expect your woman, wife, son or/and daughter to show appreciation for such? Do you think they would reciprocate appreciation?

5] How do you define your role as a man to your family and what is the single most important aspect or act you can define in the capacity of fulfilling that role?

6] What would you not do for your wife, woman, son and/or daughter as the man of your household?

7] Is there a difference in how you express love (not sexually) to your woman or wife when compared to your son or daughter?

8] How do you describe the passion for a son’s love when compared to the passion for a daughter’s love?

9] What does it mean to be the man of the house and as being such, what appreciation and/or value to you expect to receive from your wife, woman, son and/or daughter?

10] How should your work ethic be appreciated or valued and reciprocated unto you by your wife, woman, son and/or daughter?

extra credit: How do you see and define your responsibility to your community?

Lets b honest

Homo Universalis

I have been called some things in my life. Crazy, punk, pompous, egotistical, kind, nice, mean, wild, savage, stupid, lazy, no good and the blog moniker as of recent times. I guess they were all fitting of the diverse way folk saw me. Of recent, I have been called something that flattered me and made me question myself – A renaissance man.

I mean I guess the way I see myself is a lot differently than the way others see myself. I question this because I know what they mean in a slim fashion, but the anal pore in me want to be strict and note that folk here aint no man of the renaissance or period of reformation. In my research over the past night, I have discovered that they call such folk polymaths - a person who is skilled in multiple fields or multiple disciplines, and who has a broad base of knowledge.

Not to mention, the people I consider renaissance men, I couldn’t hold toilet paper to wipe their butts. Folk like Fredrick Douglass, Voltaire, Winston Churchill, Voltaire, Ida B Wells (I know she aint no man), Chekih Anta Diop, Imhotep, Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and Martin Luther King Jr. To me they are folk like the illegitimate son of a man living in Vinci, Italy, Leonardo Da Vinci. They say his genius was very apparent by the age of 15. He was basically self taught via reading. The only thing I see that we have in common is that from “Between 1490 and 1495 he developed his habit of recording his studies in meticulously illustrated notebooks. His work covered four main themes: painting, architecture, the elements of mechanics, and human anatomy.” I just wish, as he did, that I could have met Niccolo Machiavelli, author of "The Prince."

Charles Van Doren asserted that a “Renaissance man is neither an expert nor a specialist. He or she knows more than just a little about "everything" instead of knowing "everything" about a small part of the entire spectrum of modern knowledge. The term is essentially ironic, for it is universally believed that no one really can be a Renaissance man in the true meaning of the term, since knowledge has become so complex that no human mind is capable of grasping all, or even a large part, of it.”

I just think being a hard worker and a risk taker would be more appropriate than Renaissance man. But as blog culture dictates, i'm finna ask yawl. What is a renaissance man? How do they differ from a genius? Who would you consider and do you know any folks that would fit that category in your immediate circles? And do I fit the worth of being venerated Homo Universalis?

SIDE BAR: I have been hood winked by a fellow Morehouse Alum, Kevin Ross, to be on his talk radio show, which I think airs on NPR too. The show will air next Wednesday and the topics they want me to discuss (lmbao) will include the White Morehouse valedictorian, gay marriage in light of the California Supreme Court ruling yesterday, 2008 Democratic Presidential election results, and cougars (older women hooking up with younger men - i.e. Mariah Carey). George Alexander, editor-at-large of Black Enterprise and a fellow Morehouse man, will be joining us!

I just wish we could talk about the war and the economy.

Educational profiling

SIDE BAR: My coreopsis started to bloom and they were jamming friday night on radio disney at 8pm

Profiling is a strange and tricky subject. We are all profiled in certain ways. Women are often profiled. I can only imagine what it may be like to walk in a bar or happy hour and see al these goons starring at specified apportionments of ones anatomy over ones eyes. Now don’t get me wrong. I mean I attend to observations that outline in layman terms as a phat azz azz, and that such will leave an imprint as operationalized by Konrad Lorenz and his work with Graylag Geese, but I don’t have to gawk for the eyes are even more so appropriate to gaze into as well as show value and respect.

Then there is what I am familiar with, racial profiling. I get this all the time, not just by twelve, but people also. They look at my face and proceed to think I maintain the possibility of a criminal disposition. They see my hair and are even brazen enough to ask if I sell weed or if I am a musician. Even worse, they ask if they can touch it as if they were petting a goat in the public zoo.

Believe it or not I can deal wit he later, but there is one type of profiling that slides well subaltern the radar. I have decided to call it educational profiling. As a man, a man of African descent, I have been blessed to obtain what many would consider the highest merit in Academia – a terminal degree. If I am not in one of the times when I tell them I do construction work, I sometimes say I am an infectious disease specialist, an associate professor with a PHD in the appropriate discipline.

Sometimes their look alters, but from that moment on, when a person find out I have a PHD, they start to profile me. They beginning to ask why didn’t I introduce myself as such, or say Dr. Stephens. I respond, “My momma named me Torrance, not doctor.”

They think hat the addition of three letters behind your name or two in front makes you different. In the same way it makes folks who are Islamic different in America or African American males, driving on the highway different and warranting more scrutiny. They have expectations, of being snappy, boastful and pedantic. They see them as being intellectual astute, competent, and maybe even well to do. It is a burden I don’t like. Just because I display accomplishment ex post facto hard work, discipline and patience.

The place you above what you are and where come from and act as if magically being a Dr (what ever that is) makes you automatically smarter, more important and beneficial than the average person. The answer is NO we are not. True, I got some colleagues that think they the smartest person in the world, and even with a PHD introduce themselves as Dr. They may not even be tight, or worse got their PHD when they stopped being proficient in a foreign language. That took about 65% of the folks who were in class with me. Truth is they may be actually dim, poor read and even unversed in the scientific literature or their field. Scary to me, and don’t even ask them about their research or publication record, don’t exist. Then these be the loudest ones bragging. But at any case.

Next time you meet someone or know up front but their terminal illness called a doctorate, see if you change how you see them or compare them to another standard. See if you profile folks too. Like I said, my momma aint name me doctor nor did getting one make me more smarter if I had not. And al the degrees I have worked had for, that Hamilton High School Diploma, followed by Morehouse mean the most.