katrina links

N.O's mayor Ray Nagin is the truth personified, my first ever favorite politician.


kanye put his career on the line for this. that's some grown man ish.


i'm proud of my people right now.

Racism Still Alive

They just concealin' it.

Loiusiana, Loiusiana, they're trying to wash us away.

Loiusiana, Loiusiana, they're trying to wash us away.

Loiusiana, Loiusiana, they're trying to wash us away.

Loiusiana, Loiusiana, they're trying to wash us away.

Loiusiana, Loiusiana, they're trying to wash us away.

Loiusiana, Loiusiana, they're trying to wash us away.

I see right through you, Judas.

Allow Me To Retort

What good is the Rid without the comb?

I've already said it, but I guess it needs to be said again.

It's like this, little boy: Your delusions of grandeur are not even annoying, let alone upsetting. You don't know me well enough to question my levels of sincerity, and your stating otherwise just shows how underdeveloped your mind truly is. But you do know well enough that I don't care. Your whole style is fake. So I won't even address you anymore. If I happen to bump into you at one of these little industry book-signing panels that I hardly ever attend, we'll deal with it however it needs to be dealt with. But, for everyone else . . .

When the chips fell down, the little boy holla'd at me asking for an apology. I was like, "For what? You did you, I did me. Period." He tried to clarify: "I think you have some assumptions about what I'm trying to do with my career, yadda, yadda, ya, rah, rah, ray-ray and a blahzay blah." I was like, "If that's what you're trying to do with your career, you're going about it wrong. Writing one-sentence barbs is not criticism." I pointed out that he wrote some shit about the book, which, basically served no purpose--it wasn't making me a better writer; it wasn't informing anyone who read the piece. I also pointed out that, having made my money off the book, understanding that all publicity is good publicity (NYT Bestseller list first week out -- thank you), and the fact that it's not my book, but 50's, means that my level of emotional attachment to it is not the same as if it were actually my book. [Shameless plugs: How To Draw Hip-Hop and Strapped For Cash, coming sooner than you think.] But, all that aside, I appreciate any and everyone who's ever given me constructive feedback about anything I write. His shit? Well, it was just--to use one of his words--"salty." That was about the gist of that exchange. This was not by any means a long part of the conversation and I've only covered it here to clear the lies.

Honestly, I'm embarrassed to be part of this whole thing. And I really, really have much better things to do with my time. For real. I have deadlines for real projects, friends and family to be with, bars to go to, hearts to break--all that type of shit. But there is a train of thought that has been floating around blogville that the boy touched upon with his post. He'd probably call it a "meme," but he'd be wrong, because, well, that's just not the definition of the word meme.

At any rate, let me address the blogger/journalist thing from my humble point of view:

I don't consider myself a journalist. Never have. And I've stated this publicly time and time again. I don't have journalistic training, nor do I hold myself to whatever ideals journalists supposedly hold themselves to. If I did, marriages would end and there'd be more hip-hop beefs than a little bit because, frankly, some of these rappers are wild boys, they say some wild shit, do some wild things. And besides, I've fucked up many times in my quest to be a professional. You can read all about it here.

I'm a writer. I write. Everyday. In notebooks, on the computer, on the backs of press releases, on envelopes, on napkins, on receipts; at bars, in cabs, at home, at clubs; in the middle of the night, in the morning, after having sex, when I'm angry, when I'm confused, when I'm feeling clear-minded. You can get it twisted, because you have free will and it's your right to think whatever it is that you want to think. But, truth is, I write because it's what I do. It gives my thoughts definition and space the same way that cleaning your crib clears your mind or balancing your checkbook lets you know if you can afford a new pair of kicks. For me, blogging is just an extension of all that; it allows me to experiment with voice, texture, emotion, style, wordplay, imagery and so forth. I don't need the hits, the comments or the linkage. If I did, I wouldn't be keeping a bunch of blogs that no one knows about. I won't say that I don't enjoy the community it offers, because I do. I've met some good people through this medium. Hell, I'm on one dude's blog now. Motherfucker lives in Sweden. But me and him, we cool. Shit like that happens with less frequency out in the real world.

Now, as for whether bloggers want to be journalists or journalists want to be bloggers, I guess each individual would have to answer that for themselves. Yet, I will say this: for the most part, when you pick up a magazine or newspaper, there's some sort of guarantee that you'll get a certain caliber of writing. There's a slew of editors who have to be accountable for the quality of the publication, another gang of people responsible for the dollars that the magazine spends and, usually, a managing editor that bridges these two worlds. Of course, there are going to be differences in budget, staff size and quality of writing as you explore different publications, but that's pretty much the template. Basically, print rags have keepers at the gate. These keepers have a lot of control over what is read by the reader. And, depending upon the individuals involved, the process can be an aid or a hindrance to quality reading and writing. But, by-and-large, it means that you have some idea of what you're getting before you sit down to read.

I'd be fraudulent if I didn't say that I've learned a lot from many great editors. They've definitely made me a stronger writer. I've argued with them, hated them, called them all types of idiots (most times to their faces), but I've been blessed by these men and women and I am thankful to have learned from the constraints which they placed upon me as a writer. Without a doubt, there are pros and cons to writing hundred-word album reviews. One of the cons is that they're limited in their ability to inform the reader as to whether or not the joint in question is worth 15 bucks. But one of the indispensable pros is that they teach the writer to make every word count. At this point, I can write 100, 350, 500, 800, 1500, 2000 and 3000 words in my head, without a pen--paragraph breaks, quotes, transitions and everything. Of course, I still have to sit down and fine tune with the pen and paper, or keyboard and screen, but I can get a pretty decent first draft done before I ever hit my brick and mortar tools. The reason being, the aforementioned are very common word counts in the game, and if you are forced to turn in copy at those lengths for over a decade, I'm sure that you'll mentally know what they feel like as well.

I'm not perfect, though. I usually come in over. Most editors will allow you a 5-10% overage that they can squeeze in. I tend to come in around 15-20%. Then we gotsa get to cutting. That shit hurts. Sometimes it damages the piece, sometimes it makes it tighter. But when I see it in print, it's always--always--different from the last thing I saw. Why? The art/design guy who can't (or refuses to) shrink a picture or fuss with his layout, the copy editor who misunderstood a bit of slang or a reference, the legal department that thinks that something may be libel. Shit happens. You get used to it.

With blogs, there's none of this give and take. Once again, pros and cons. Pro is that you can get unfiltered, unadulterated writing. Con is that it may not be any good. Seriously, some of these dudes lack original thought and they're devoid of any style when saying something we've all heard a million times before. This would never happen at any good magazine because a competent editor will tell you that you're not bringing anything to the table and send you back to the blank page or, at the very least, help you find something new to say that hasn't been said. Of course it doesn't work out this way 10 times out of 10, and you may wind up reading the same piece more than once. Still, most editors try to make sure that there is some new observation, some new understanding, some new bit of information involved. Even if the revelation isn't novel to you, a proper editor will aspire to make sure it's something that will be fresh to at least the majority of the publication's readers. Better bloggers will do the same for themselves--they'll self-censor in order to ensure that they are advancing a conversation. But too many bloggers just want to be heard, regardless of the discussion that has taken place before. It's their turn to speak and that's all that's on their mind. As far as I'm concerned, these types will remain worthless until they step their game up.

Another thing is that the overwhelmingly vast majority of blogs lack primary sources. The authors are simply picking over other people's research and commenting on that. They don't go out and find the news stories, interview the politicians, build with the artists or talk to the victims of crimes. They just play peanut gallery to someone else's findings. This is fine when the peanut gallery has something of interest to say, but when they don't, well, then no one is there to tell them to stop. They just post away. Sometimes this results in getting put on to new artists, debunking media/government lies, exposing plants in the White House press corps and much more. More often, however, what happens is that people who can't gain an audience in their own livingrooms attempt to pose as experts on a subject and, unfortunately, some unwitting souls will follow along.

I think you have to take the good with the bad and use your discernment. There are engaging writers, people and thinkers in all forms of media; but there are also a bunch of dim nitwits. It's just a microcosm of real life. The same rules apply. You have to know what works for you and be careful whom you follow.

Ed. Note: In its furthest definition, I may be wrong on the "meme" thing. But, I'm cool with being wrong. Shit happens.

P.S.-- This a bit under 1800 words. Just like I thought.

If you can't respect that, your whole perspective is wack.

even when disasters strike

it still exists. please tell me the difference between


http://news.yahoo.com/photo/050830/480/ladm10208301530


and this one


http://news.yahoo.com/photo/050830/photos_ts_afp/050830071810_shxwaoma_photo1


maybe it's just me...

drive slow homie

turn your hazard lights on when you see dem hoes

weekend news update

suge got shot (in the leg) at Kanye's party?

ipod hating rio people are SOL

and they halted the 300 year late 'morning after pill'


drive slow homie

Behind the Music: Sexual Chocolate

found this from a couple of years ago:

Sexual Chocolate rose to fame in the middle to late 80's reaching
it's apex in the hit Eddie Murphy movie Coming to America tonight
we'll go behind the fame, the "hit" songs to a story of friends who
were able to do what they love.


This story begins in Queens in 1960 when Randy Jackson and Terrence
"uh huh" Jenkins were born in a working class neighborhood.

Randy's mother was a numbers queenpin who also preached at the local
Holiness church on Sundays. Randy's dad was a mute factory worker
who worked his whole life to provide for his family. *flash to
Randy's Dad nodding*

Randy's mom: Randy was always into music at church but schooled on the
street. He was always a performer, when he was 6 the bums down the
street used to pay him to dance for them. now that's talent, here
are people who get by by panhandling and they wanted to give their
hard earned money to my boy for entertainment. *shaking head*

Randy's dad: *nodding*


Meanwhile a few blocks over Terrance "Uh Huh" Jenkins was being
raised by... well we don't know and since Uh Huh only says Uh Huh
it's kinda hard to tell... regardless Uh Huh became friends with
Randy in Kindergarten and they never were apart from then on.

Pookie - childhood friend - Randy and Uh Huh were always together you
see, they were the only kids in the 1st grade to have their hair
conked. everyone looked up to them. Randy was always the one
talking though. we always knew something was special was going to
happen to them.

Randy: I always did like my hair long that's why in the 70's I kept a
perm though everyone else wanted to have a afro. I used ta think to
myself now why would you want that nappy unmovable hair when you
could move it around like this *moving head from side to side*


it was in highschool that Randy decided they were going to be a
famous band and Uh Huh agreed.

Uh Huh: Uh Huuuh

Randy decided it would only be right for him to be the lead singer
and Uh Huh to play the drums so they went looking for a keyboardist
and bass player.

Randy: that was about 1975 and I was 15 we ran into a guy who was in
his late 40's and we knew we had a bass player.

That bass player went simply by the name Hub and always had a chew
stick in his mouth and constantly wore a hoodie. He never said much,
to Randy's pleasure, and they hit it off. They decided why wait for
the rest of the group when that will come in time so they started
performing.

Randy: yeah we used to go around Queens hitting all the bars on the
late shift, you know 3 - close and we got a big following. Sure some
of the people just followed us to throw things at us and beat us up
after performance but hey, it was a following.

Uh Huh: Uh huh

Randy: We used to just do covers because I was working on getting my
writing chops up, so we did that until about 1980 where I finally
finished the song that would put us in the big time. right around
that time we got a keyboardist and we were set to go. The Song's name
was Superstitions and Stevie Wonder heard about it and got
mad so we couldn't use it again.


email me your add-on's and i'll add them to this post with your name

ode to nyquil

being miles apart really makes me appreciate you with your sleep and breath easy night version and your daytime relief, i miss you and don't like having to go to counseling with the cold/flu of the moment because it's not a relationship it's a kcuf thing and i'm the one getting kcuffed. if you were to come through the mail i'd appreciate whomever sent you.

your friend,

*cough, cough*

l

fight club/corrections/domestic disputes

wifey aka Threats has sent me threatening emails about yesterday's previous post's quotes, which she feels are inaccurate. threats don't work against me, even with the flu, but i'll "correct" them to make sure that her fans aren't mislead (you wouldn't believe the fan mail ldef receives c/o'd to wifey).

Quotes from Threats:

"I said I never liked the way MJ danced, I like watching Usher more
even if he copied MJ's style

And I never said PE is just noise, I just don't like that 80's hip
hop beat they had"

End Quote


Notice the omission of the Marky Mark and Slick Rick statements not to mention that she said yesterday "not only was he a good dancer the Funky Bunch were good dancers too"




this now elevates my dopenesstivity of boyfriend apex-ness, though wifey must be warned that this will be the only post influenced by her, there are no more rewrites or corrections. thank you.

now back to cough central network.

4 reasons to break up with wifey

"Usher is a better dancer than Micheal Jackson"

"Slick Rick has an annoying voice"

"Public Enemy just sounds like noise"

"Marky Mark was a good dancer"

God Forgive Me For My Brash Delivery

Another G-Bomb mistake that hit too close to home.

Now, once upon a time, not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strongarm a hoe. . .

On Aug 17, 2005, at 5:07 PM, NH wrote:

Keep mulling over the part of our conversation about the usage of language as a means to subjugate or demean. When straight men are ridiculed as gay, it implies that they are inferior in some way. Not a man. Not quite there.

(So not the case with the gay men that I know and adore.)

This is not a critique of your writing, nor the motivations behind your posts to address the cowardly and distasteful way that said parties have slandered your name and your body of work. Merely to say that your written response, with the intent to defend yourself, seems to include asserting your masculinity by feminizing or sexualizing other men.

Political correctness aside, you are more than clever enough to craft an argument that posits that emotional insecurities lead to impulsive epithets designed to establish a fleeting sense of control.

What do you think?

I think I should apologize to the women and members of the LGBTQI community who I may have disrespected. So. . . Sorry.

I think that I should have taken the time to clarify that I was speaking metaphorically. I was attemtpting to draw a parallel between homey's repeated attempts to garner attention from me and the mannerisms of a schoolboy who pulls on a girl's hair beause he really likes her but lacks the courage to express his admiration. I mean a guy attracted to another guy is gay (or maybe bi), no?

I think it's unfortuante that my approach allowed the child to hide behind my residual homophobia (I ain't even gonna try to front like my understanding and/or comfort level with male homosexualtiy is at 100%; maybe 80-85%.) and suckle at the teat of the feminist crew as opposed to dealing with what he knows the true issues to be. Dude knows well and good it's about his constant, misguided moves to engage me in conversation. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not so umbrageous as to take offense to anything written about me (much less my work). I mean, hell, much worse has been written and said. And a lot of it is right there on Google for anyone to see.

I think it's also unfortunate that a third player came into the game in the 9th inning, further allowing homey to obfuscate what the whole situation is really about. I also think it's fucked up that I let myself be blind-sided and caught out there by the third player. But shit happens. You win some, you lose some. No one bats 1.000.

But, most importantly, I think it's fucked up that I was insensitive to you and others like you. If anything, I was dissing you by equating the boy's twaddle with the real things you deal with everyday. Sorry.


[Pacifist-Assassin: This is not a hoe in the sense of havin' a pussy, but a pussy havin' no goddamned sense -- tryna push me.]

The Gift & The Curse

Statutes 2000 by Paulo Coelho

1] All men are different. And should do everything possible to continue to be so.

2] Each human being has been granted two courses of action: that of deed and that of contemplation. Both lead to the same place.

3] Each human being has been granted two qualities: power and gift. Power drives man to meet his destiny, his gift obliges him to share with others that which is good in him. A man must know when to use his power, and when to use his gift.

4] Each human being has been granted a virtue: the capacity to choose. For he who does not use this virtue, it becomes a curse and others will always choose for him.

5] Each human being has the right to two blessings, which are: the blessing to do right, and the blessing to err. In the latter case, there is always a path of learning leading to the right way.

6] Each human being has his own sexual profile, and should exercise it without guilt provided he does not oblige others to exercise it with him.

7] Each human being has his own Personal Legend to be fulfilled, and this is the reason he is in the world. The Personal Legend is manifest in his enthusiasm for what he does.

--the Personal Legend may be abandoned for a certain time, provided one does not forget it and returns as soon as possible.

8] Each man has a feminine side, and each woman has a masculine side. It is necessary to use discipline with intuition, and to use intuition objectively.

9] Each human being must know two languages: the language of society and the language of the omens. The first serves for communication with others. The second serves to interpret messages from God.

10] Each human being has the right to seek out joy, joy being understood as something which makes one content not necessarily that which makes others content.

11] Each human being must keep alight within him the sacred flame of madness. And must behave like a normal person.

12] The only faults considered grave are the following: not respecting the rights of one's neighbor, letting oneself be paralyzed by fear, feeling guilty, thinking one does not deserve the good and bad which occurs in life, and being a coward.

--we shall love our enemies, but not make alliances with them. They are placed in our way to test our sword, and deserve the respect of our fight.

--we shall choose our enemies, not the other way around.

13] All religions lead to the same God, and all deserve the same respect.

A man who chooses a religion is also choosing a collective manner of adoration and of sharing the mysteries. Nevertheless, he alone is responsible for his actions along the Way, and he has no right to transfer to religion the responsibility for his steps and his decisions.

14] We hereby declare the end to the wall dividing the sacred from the profane: from now on, all is sacred.

15] Everything which is done in the present, affects the future by consequence, and the past by redemption.

15-5] Dispensations to the contrary are herewith revoked.


[Pacifist Assassin: These are the rules I follow in my life -- you gotta love it.]

work related

would you kill for me?

obviously ready to die is at fault here. where they kcuf is tipper when you need her? me and my b-i situation wasn't what i would call a well planned venture, i mean, it's was like the iraq post war planning.

life: i'd say the drawback to my job is having to listen to myself over and over again with the spiel's variation but thus is the curse of a true hustler, with world domination plans, focused. what's been happening with me? nothing much though days seems to stream together and the nearing end of the fiscal year has me on hyper drive. it's 1:15 and i got up at 6 am so i'm sitting here wondering i'm not in the slumber that wifey's in. well i'm going to stare intently at the back of my eyelids.

1

doom got me open

i'm open tonight though wifey-less (grrrls nite out) between prince of persia, this depressing movie about divorce with randy quaid that got me over thinking relationships and this dangerdoom in the pod i'm open. it all started a couple days ago when kris hit me asking if i felt mf to which i replied that i been sleeping and will continue because i effin' felt like it. this was followed by mr. dukes hitting me with a link with ghost/doom 'the mask' now i'm open. oh so even.

my to do lists this week includes reading angels and demons bugging writers and sponsors, some of which i'll start on tomorrow. 'neeway i'm open tonight ready to write some sumtin' and thought i'd share.

mf i must apologize for the slumber, no more.

time keeps on slipping, slipping

i have fallen so off it's more than sad, it's pitiful and in the mist of this horrible 'maffia-in-italy' movie that harvey kietel obviously did to support habits that one shouldn't support it reminded me to post, quickly at least. the editing department should pay me money for actually sitting through this incomprehensible shit, they cut from night time scenes to daytime mid convo. the storyline.. isn't. camera angles give you a headache and try to cover up the cheapnesstivity of this movie.. eff it, it's horrible.

been up to wifey's parents for 3 weeks *yawn* *double yawn* read the Da Vinci Code--i know i'm all late-- in less that 48 hours and practiced the fine art of sleeping with my eyes open while looking busy. did catch a fish on the smaller end of 'moderate size' and a minnow (which is hard to catch on a hook but i am a talented fisherman). back at work on taking over the world and wondering how i can get my hands on Danyel's book which i have been hearing more than enough good things about, though something tells me in sweden will be a b-i.


yay for the ira, funny how it came right after the bombings and tony was getting ready to george bush some privacy. sudan is still fucked up and nadda ting gwon change for babylon.

a thought crossed my mind when i heard about them canceling the space program again after seeing the debris, how would it feel to be in the bastard when they made the annoucement?

i'm going to bed.

put people on

buy the desofo album! dammit i worked hard and slept less for this. we've got some cool stuff on the site and i just wanted to shower thanks on the people that contributed when it was simply a fetus of an idea:will dukes, kris ex and the lovely julianne shepard, seriously, thank you.


now if your reading this you should have already bought the album and added desofo to your bookmarks so i'll thank you now.


1

Gangsta Diaries

June 26

nature

most of the time i wake up early after a night full of gangsta shit to ice grill birds for chirping. ain't shit to chirp about, you little feathery bitches. all happy and shit. after a while i usually head over to a flower and stop that n*gga into the ground for looking all pretty. i don't like pretty shit plus it's good practice for my stomping game.

uh, damn

grandma's, broken hearts and guns? wow...

in other news it's always nice to know that white people feel that it's too late to apologize for slavery, amazing since black people didn't actually get political representation until the late 60's. which in essence means that slavery, in some form, legally existed until the Civil Rights Act but that's just me... not to mention the fact that if it is true that slavery isn't something worth apologizing for because it's too late and has no lasting effects (besides the 5 centuries deep in cotton money (c) mos) then the overall view would be that we're less human than any other race...

today a beautiful thing was born

my little *sniff* go there and buy the downloadable album it's ill not to mention criminally cheap. look around and e me if you have anything you'd like to do for her please let me know.



finally

DeSofo

Pistons Bitch!!!

via email:

OMIGOD...we blew them away. Spurs never let cats get past 90? did that game 3...tonite..triple digits!

U know what's funny....Piston's haters always talk about what the next niggas did wrong "Shaq's thigh" "Wadw was hurt" (as if Iverson hasn't clowned niggas with a broken arm!)...so tonite I called some of those haters..."Is it Argentia's economy?"...Tim Duncan's brother has cancer?"....Tony Parker is upset abt the propsed EU consititution?"

It's never abt what we did right..we the hardest working team in the league...hilarious.

Too black. Too strong.

anon



big ups to nba dot com for the free replay of the whole game on video for us poor people overseas.

ghetto pass auction

since i'm an expatriate now i feel that now is a perfect time to aution off my ghetto pass with it's alphabetical city stamps. please email me if your'd like to make an offer.


thank you

mississippi

went to a restaurant named mississippi which lacked cornbread, greens and anything else associated with the dirty south. the menu included a philly cheesesteak which i ordered only to get it on toasted white bread. since i was obviously the only american in there they asked what i thought of the food and told them that somewhere rocky was having a heart attack after feeling that i was served a philly with white bread. *shaking head*

in other news the trial for Mississippi Burning starts today hopefully to convict this 80 year old man for the horrendous murder or the 3 civil rights workers in 1964. i've always noticed that when people mention the three the mention the two whites first (as if this was the greatest gift of white people ever) then passively mention the black guy who lived in meridian, mississippi (where my dad was born) and had a lot more to lose by joining the voter registration drive then his new yorker partners. seeing that at the end of the day dude had to go home and worry about what could happen to his family.

the pistons lost again last night but i expected this series to go 7 also the only problem is that playing the spurs is like allowing a boa to get a good grip on your windpipe before starting to get it off.


i'm off to work.

trained thoughts

I was on the train this morning reading time when a class of kids got on the train, there have been lots of kids on the train lately because they're having field trips all at the same time. this class was around the age of 6/7 years old and this little girl was talking to her friend when she looked down and pulled out a cell phone with a sticker on it and talked for the rest of the time they were on the train. a six year old with a cell phone? wow. it does make a little sense here since all incoming calls are free no matter where they are from but i find it a little strange that a 6 year old would rock a cell phone to school. i'm old.

is this new or have i been under unsaid rock for a while?

the pistons keep on ripping it

well after my much deserved muted gloat session which was today (effin' swedes don't know a damn thing about the nba but i called all expiates to lord it over them) i came across an issue. today we're jeffersoning up to the top floor of the office building my job is in and moving always gives me a sense of newness and a reason to become organized, at least work on it. now organization and i are old friends we go back to school evenings where i'd spend 98% of my times organizing, which in return would drain my energy for the actual studying times. moving along, i have come to a dilemma of sorts: firefox or safari. now to the pc'ers reading this who have yet to have been touched by the holy cult of mac this dilemma seems rather quaint, well it isn't. if you've read this blog for a while you have seen me get my geek on explaining the soothing nature of firefox and countless others have received emails extolling the virtues of this mozilla creation. the add-ons and fuzzy feeling you get are all good reasons to rock it but more and more the overall beauty and ease of use of safari has moved it into the number one spot. sure i haven't figured out everything on it yet, like rss reading (i know how to do it but it doesn't yet match my sage viewing experience). anyhoo i'm at a lost and using both for both sake though safari is edging up toward 89.4% at this time...

wait, what the hell am i talking about?

sorry, carry on.

i've been looking around the apartment

wondering where i'm going to put my new 65 inch tv when it comes out, of course i'm waiting breathlessly for the 82 inch Samsung but the 65 inch will suffice until that one comes out. there is one other thing besides not being able to afford it, it's figuring out a place that i can put it without wifey getting mad because it takes up a whole wall in the living room.


back to pondering, shit i should be asleep (only to wake to the glorious news that the finals will include my pistons).

how many times i gotta tell ya'll?

the pistons are going to win in 7? repeat this mantra 'l is always right, l is always right' i keep telling people but nah they wanna act in disbelief that i don't know what i'm talking about. *shaking head* sure you can say that it's wade being out or that shaq is 300 years old and his part-time policeman's utility belt is showing him down but the undeniable truth of the matter is that the pistons will continue to prevail in their move toward the 2nd title in two years. sleep, hate or whatever you'd like to do but i am right.


respect my ish nnnhuh

thank you*




*this public service announcement has been brought to you by ldef

get your blogger t-shirt

hitch is a good example of the 'no chemistry' and plotlessness. this yawn-fest is clockfull of predictability and seems that the dialogue was written for a GED class writing project. not that there is anything wrong with GEDs, due to my untimely expultion from the class of '93... nevermind, this movie sucks, just thought i'd save you from a wasted video rental.

so i haven't been posting much lately

though things are inching on in my direction it's been hard to find the time to tap it out here. lately i've been thinking about the curse of being raised in a very strict religious environment and the long lasting effects that come with it. even though my conscious mind has rejected that and christianity on a whole those creepy little fears that religion instilled still exist. it's unfortunate that one can not simply decide the rid themselves of these issues but i'm starting to understand that i will be fighting the first 18-24 years of my life forever. it can be accepted, the fight, but i really don't want to pass these things down to my offspring (all 29 of them) in the future. i would like to preserve certain aspects of it though but can't quite figure out how to give it to them (all 29 of them) in a way that doesn't alter their choices.

sorry about the pontification there but it's been on loop in my mind lately.

otherwise after fifty false starts and blown tires i can finally say that monday is the day! yep, the site i run www.desofo.com will officially be launched and the millions and millions who view this blog will run over to it and buy the album, which is the dopest album of all time and has cured cancer on many occasions plus actually raised people from the dead while starting world peace and harmony. rolling stone will give it a 1,000,000 out of 5 and say that without this album the world could not continue spinning. sooo, your going to run over there and pay for it then download it and enjoy it along with me :-) of course i'll have to thank damn near every person linked on this site (please look over to your right and click away) for helping me along this excruciating looong journey. i'd love to go on but i believe that that's prince on my cell phone callilng to see if he can contribute to the next album, if i decide to do it again :-) nicolay (of foreign exchange fame) arranged the album, for which i owe him my first and second born children so go buy it, on monday.

insomniac's symphony

my job has taught me that you'll never think of everything you can think of when your supposed to, which got me thinking about if i was 'god.' well i would have forgotten a few things such as:

you'd get dizzy when you walk because i wouldn't have thought to have the eyes adjust.

you'd smell like hot shit because i wouldn't have thought of making your digestive system smell proof.

fingerprints wouldn't exist, it seems that it would take a long time to come up with an infinite equation for fingerprints so i would have let that one go.

love would have never crossed my mind, neither would fear or pain.

sex would have been quite different, if i even thought about it in the first place.

things like trees and grass wouldn't have anything to do with fresh air and would most likely look like atari 2600 grass.

sleep wouldn't happen either, which it isn't at this moment but i'll be aiight.


glad i'm not 'god'

why do we front

like R. Kelly isn't certified fucking crazy? just heard his song 'trapped in the closet' *shaking head*


*sigh*

required reading

sure the last picture had a short shelf life but i'm a busy man an emails begging me to find other pictures that are similar go on def (yes def) ears, 'cause we marauder for'... nevermind. anyway life is starting to show some bright spots and i've been treating ldef is utter disrespect but i'm trying to reach the americanswedish dream here guys and that takes hard work and a very big gun. oh trailing off seems to be a thing that comes with age. speaking of which i was in a meeting the other day and the guy, we've had meetings before, said something like "since your 30" and i had to remind myself.

wifey equals camera as of late. all signs point to the procreation project that my best friend just completed but 2025 sound like a great time to begin, if you ask me.


k, moving along. this is today's required reading it's ill for many reasons but pay attention to the scribes jobs and soon you'll see.

next up: dear white people, don't use the word wigger without expecting retaliation. thank you.


l

i'm sitting at work

happend to see kung fu hustle yesterday and was blown away. the visuals were stunning and it was refreshing to see a movie with those type of visuals that doesn't take itself so damn seriously.


back to the soon to be completed grind.

pistons

my pistons were able to pull it off yesterday as i watched espn.com's live time updates of the game. watching the game via states on your computer screen isn't exactly the type of thing i'd refer to has heart stopping. i'm thinking about paying for a web link of the nba games because i have to see them in the finals this year, last year made me ice grill wifey and randomly curse in random situations.


tiger is the truth people if your sitting behind one of those p and c thingys you need to run out cop a powerbook and take your first breath of air. of course i being me haven't figured out half of the stuff on there but for each one that i stumble on i cheer, i really do. we all will figure this out though.

13th floor/Growing Old

Conceive true deception multiplied a million fold
Visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense
that we get em confused
The resident evil specialize in misconstruing
We wanna be at a presidential level -- what are we doing?
Foolin ourself, clownin ourself, playin ourself
By not bein ourself
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get our meat
While we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season
look at the picture that's painted
Tainted as the mind who's blinded to the point
where Sodomites get all the rights
We fall for fights with fisticuffs
Get pissed enough to miss the bus
It disgusts me to see my folks run up on
I say stand up on deception of time all of Revelations
And recognize this mind on the reality of horror
known as mankind
Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen
A righteous number of righteous men
Even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end
The Devil say the end is the beginning
They teach that we were the product of incest
Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics
Stand with us and don't look back upon it
Just face this mindstate
Otherwise Babylon...

My memories of yesterday...


Big Rube

so i got a powerbook today

i feel powerful, sure it's not 'brand new' but it's 3 million times faster than my ibook, who looks so small, so insignificant at this point. the only problem is that the genius' over at mac came up with a great idea to help powerbook people out when they got a new powerbook but didn't come up with anything for those of us stepping up. sooo, i have to go through all of the crap i have transferred from my ibook and try and figure out ways to load it in before i hand it over to the dude that bought it tomorrow *sigh*

just thought i'd share. wow, this 15 inch got me open though.


coffee and cursing update:

figured out how to do somethings but still at a loss for quite a few others. for instance i transferred all of my emails over BUT it refuses to finish my addresses. *deep sigh while gritting teeth*

Dear Bush people,

i really would like to ask how you balance things out in your head regarding bush and co. i read the new incessantly and it seems that a lot of people get blown up in iraq daily, from little iraqi kids to your kids, but you still blankly stare ahead
with your bush flag raised.

first off i would like to state that your voting for him is your choice and i defend that choice against anal ass europeans on a daily basis. seeing that i do, i do feel that it would be helpful if you shared some insight as to why you blindly follow this guy.

now, i don't swing off the nuts of clinton and personally felt that he was/is a charismatic chameleon with his own personal elevation behind his every choice. now that we've got that stated it is a fact that we americans are in a worse position then we were before he took the reigns. the economy sucks, we're in a useless war with no end in sight and deficit it ridiculous. to top it off bush, with his john wayne inspired "freedom" swagger, has ignored the sudanese crisis while not doing a damn thing to numerous other countries that try to blatantly step all over this 'line' he's drawn in the sand while he does. not. a. damn. thing. here's a guy that claims he's out to free the world but doesn't seem to do it and when he supposedly tried he made it worse. sorry about the rant but i am really at loss on this point and as to why people aren't rioting right now.
dunno, just wondering.

my shoe game 5-5-5

i'm sick wit it but play with a handicap (size 15) so when i'm fortunate to come across some ishness that fits i get in. today the sun shined literally and figuratively on me and upped my shoe game by 200%. now the average person wouldn't get that amped about some shoes but i am not your average and rock the same damn shoes till i find something, anything. which usually is right about UN multi-translator status, so this is b.i.g.

anyway it's some holiday here so wifey's sister and her nephew are here and we've chilled hard today and dude's infinite supply of energy is something to behold.


still have some work to finish up on but finally seeing lights at the end of the tunnel.

NIke

why do you pay money to the designers of the Jordans? those shits looks terrible and have for quite a while now.

*shaking head* this.....

*sigh*

if you don't have this month's the Fader

cop it now! i on the other hand have to wait until 2040 when it actually touches down in sweden *sigh* there's a write up by non other than some dude who was illiterate until I taught him how to read and write in late 2000 about j*davey i.e. the truth so it's worth your time. in fact if you do not cop it i will banish you from every trespassing on the ldef blog again.

with that said things are heading toward lovely in this direction and work is starting to feel grown up. wifey is at the gym and i'm sitting here listening to some birds sing at each other off tune, guess how that's how they get down in sweden. oh, speaking of birds i noticed that they didn't have robins and the like here but had these big black birds. anyway i was watching discovery channel (which is always in english) on of the first weeks i was here and they did this thing on those birds and they were showing how they eat flesh, eat flesh??? huh, robins may eat worms which for all intents and purposes IS flesh but it ain't stripping a cow clean. well that fucked up my 'watching the birds on a park bench stee' and i am forever ice grilling these scary feathery fuckers. i'm glad that i could share that.

in other news the pistons took an l last night to the 76er's because iverson decided to walk on water near the end. of course this is based off of my reading about it because i can't see the games here and if i could they would come on around 12am and finish right about the time that i need to wake up. sooo, i'm thinking that if any of you geeks has any 'ideas' as to how i could see the games please e me and we'll all be happy shiny people.

this week i promise to hip you all toward the vague statements i've spoken about which is my 'project' that seems to drag on and on, really. seriously.

well back to my obsessive playing of GTA where i've given up on the actual missions for a life of killing police officers with cheat codes and a jet pack!

"i am a blankness, the contained center of an O"

inner breathlessness, outer restlessness
by the time i caught up to freedom i was out of breath
grandma asked me what i'm running for
i guess i'm out for the same thing the sun is sunning for
what mothers birth their youngens for
and some say jesus coming for
for all i know the earth is spinning slow
suns at half mast 'cause masses ain't aglow
on bended knee, prostrate before an altered tree
i've made the forest suit me
tables and chairs
papers and prayers
matter versus spirit
a metal ladder
a wooden cross
a plastic bottle of water
a mandala encased in glass
a spirit encased in flesh
sound from shaped hollows
the thickest of mucus released from heightened passion
a man that cries in his sleep
a truth that has gone out of fashion
a mode of expression
a paint splattered wall
a carton of cigarettes
a bouquet of corpses
a dying forest
a nurtured garden
a privatized prison
a candle with a broken wick
a puddle that reflects the sun
a piece of paper with my name on it
i'm surrounded
i surrender
all
all that i am i have been
all i have been has been a long time coming
i am becoming all that i am
the spittle that surrounds the mouth-piece of the flute
unheard, yet felt
a gathered wetness
a quiet moisture
sound trapped in a bubble
released into wind
wind fellows and land merchants
we are history's detergent
water soluble, light particles, articles of cleansing breath
articles amending death
these words are not tools of communication
they are shards of metal
dropped from eight story windows
they are waterfalls and gas leaks
aged thoughts rolled in tobacco leaf
the tools of a trade
barbers barred, barred of barters
catch phrases and misunderstandings
but they are not what i feel when i am alone
surrounded by everything and nothing
and there isn't a word or phrase to be caught
a verse to be recited
a man to de-fill my being in those moments
i am blankness, the contained center of an "o"
the pyramidic containment of an "a"
i stand in the middle of all that i have learned
all that i have memorized
all that i've known by heart
unable to reach any of it
there is no sadness
there is no bliss
it is a forgotten memory
a memorable escape route that only is found by not looking
there, in the spine of the dictionary the words are worthless
they are a mere weight pressing against my thoughtlessness
but then, who else can speak of thoughtlessness with such confidence
who else has learned to sling these ancient ideas
like dead rats held by their tails
so as not to infect this newly oiled skin
i can think of nothing heavier than an airplane
i can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal
i can think of nothing less likely to fly
there are no wings more weighted
i too have felt a heaviness
the stare of man guessing at my being
yes i am homeless
a homeless man making offerings to the after-future
sculpting rubber tree forests out of worn tires and shoe soles
a nation unified in exhale
a cloud of smoke
a native pipe ceremony
all the gathered cigarette butts piled in heaps
snow covered mountains
lipsticks smeared and shriveled
offerings to an afterworld
tattoo guns and plastic wrappers
broken zippers and dead eyed dolls
it's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
i have seeded a forest of myself
little books from tall trees
it matters not what this paper be made of
give me notebooks made of human flesh
dried on steel hooks and nooses
make uses of use, uses of us
it's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
i have seeded a forest of myself
little books from tall trees
on bended knee
prostrate before an altered tree
i've made the forest suit me
tables and chairs
papers and prayers
matter vs. spirit, through meditation
i program my heart to beat breakbeats and hum basslines on exhalation


- saul williams

*applying warpaint*

still on the warpath but feel more like myself today because of the noxzema and suave deoderant i got yesterday by one of the few 'my fellow americans' here. on the pro-black scale i'm three-fifths toward malcolm right now and steadily rising.

my project is looking like it's almost finished *crossing fingers* and hopefully we'll have a red carpet premier in the near, near future. after a "tense" weekend i'm getting used to going to work and the great feeling of coming home to quiet and relaxation.

i'm rocking this esthero and mop's 9th wonder produced instigator at the moment.

There's a Riot Going On

or about to. a swedish ice cream company called Nogger decided to come out with a new ice cream called Nogger Black. the thing is that the swedish word for black is 'svart' and the ads are writing in a graffiti-ish logo.

the problem is that swedes, known for their tennis elbow induced from constant back patting, refuse to think of themselves as racist and thus not offended by the ad in general. in fact they say that race is an amerikkkan problem so they don't see the big deal. See the big deal? it's not your issue to be offended so why should i have to explain why i'm offended? people have actually tried to argue that racism isn't a problem here, which of course a white swede would know all to well.

The fact that they separate themselves from "american" racism is simply laughable. sweden was the first country to recognize the states as a separate entity from Britain, thus getting cut rate cotton prices which of course made the slave masters add benefits (spa treatments and such) and raises to the slaves to make sure they could meet this extra demand with a smile on their beautiful black faces. let's not get into the swedish built slave ships and various swedish slave ports during the slave trade.

Last night wifey was watching a swedish comedy show called Hey Baberiba where they did bit where a 'host' asked a 'guest' questions and they answered it wrong. they asked what the name of the ice cream was that everyone is talking about and the 'guest' responded "Nigger."

i've already called the tv station and asked for an apology, i'm sick of this shit and the polar opp of an arm chair revolutionary. if you have any ideas as to how to bring light to this shit hit me.

nat turner

once upon a time (XXX edition)

Oct. '75

April '82




today, toothpick still included

now that's humor

wow

"damn, this hat is heavier than i thought"

"now think pope thoughts..."

i am

30

1

lately when i've been eating food seems to go down the wrong pipe, almost but not really. maybe this is part of being old. today i took the time to look at my 29 year old self and i would say that though i treated my body like a redheaded stepchild with buck teeth i'm pretty happy with the fact that i don't actually look old. no crinkly things around my eyes or lines in my enormous forehead (shout out to Sade *special forehead nod*). speaking of heads i swear i've had the same size head my whole life, which was uncomfortable as a child 'specially with shoe sizes that stayed ahead of my age. thank god i grew because it would suck to be walking around with enormous hands, head and feet. i would have looked like a video game character. well, there is something that i'm happy about and appreciate god for answering my multi-day prayers. also i'm sure that since i started smoking at 17 that it stunted my growth probably a little, for which i'm happy about because 6'4 is the best height possible and since I'm evenly proportioned a lot of people never realize it until i stand up next to them and show them that i breathe cleaner fresher air though i do stop a lot of the harmful UV rays but that's what melanin is for :-) of course you'd need to wonder about people that assume i'm shorter when they're sitting there looking across at my hands and head. i've actually had people argue with me about my height like they no better than i. k, sorry, it's just that it's less than 24 hours left in my 20's and i'm a little nervous for various reasons.

yesterday evening i went to Timbuktu's all ages concert (he's big, really big here) and during his current hit he shouts me out so i had all these little kids who stared intently at the stage now staring at me wondering what it must be like to be his friend and what we must talk about. one little boy stared for a whole minute after that then resumed his open mouth staring at the stage. now i might be wrong because timbuk's like wu and loves the kids and maybe dude was 'special' for which i'll go to hell for, but dude stared with his mouth open the whole time and even took pictures with his phone without stopping staring. regardless to the fact that i knew 1 out of 5 words he said because his southern swedish is hard to translate and by the end of the concert i had a splitting headache he ripped it and and ras and i got some work done. if your one of the 23408502345899435 people that read this blog you should buy timbuktu's album, it's very enjoyable, not to mention when your bumping it in your hybrid suv you can act like you understand what he's saying and your friends will sweat you.

i will probably write more today if I get a chance but back to work now.

my hands hurt

my saturday of 'writing' has been the following:

put hands on computer then check a blog, smoke cigerrette, check google news, stare at wall, replace hands then repeat in any order.


i rarely get overwhelmed to a point where i'm unable to accomplish things but i am man enough to admit that right about...

Manifest

yesterday i went on my first swedish business trip. i went to gothenburg for the first time for what turned into an ill meeting. there's something grown about finally going on my first swedish business trip and befitting for the last week of my twenties. i try to stop and appreciate little things and judging from where i was 8 months ago this was more than a little thing. i woke up this morning with the feeling swinging back on a system that is made for breaking non-swedes and seeing it flinch or something. enough of the reflective ish i have more than enough marathoning through my mind at the i needed that break from the norm because work is suffocating me as of late with a workload that doesn't make any type of sense.

met my coworker's 2 year old daughter yesterday who speaks swedish and english and she was cool :-) she has 4 of the same teddy bears because they were going to get discontinued and her mom and grandmother bought 2 at the same time without knowing. anyway she aptly named them: teddy one, teddy 2, teddy dagis(nursery school) and teddy holiday. she has specific uses for each teddy with teddy one obviously rocking the top spot. hilarious

my great aunt turned 90 the other day and she was on her way out when i called her to wish her a happy bday. if 90 looks for me like it does for everyone in my family then i'm not too worried about getting old. her nephew, my cousin turned 60 two days before that and my nephew hit 11 on sunday. my fellow aries :-)

welp back to the grind.

happy belated bday Billie

such a haunted spirit who's win/lose battles with her demons allowed a truthfulness you could hear all through her voice. happy birthday goes out to you and i hope peace was reached.

columbia university is playing nathan but billie 24/7 since April first until next friday check 'em out.

the good ole days

brought to you by Fox News and Sinclar Broadcasting

no nyc for my bday :-(

that's right folks it has a been decided but i can honestly say that i feel good knowing that i did every semilegal thing possible to pull this off and nadda damn thing happened. so i called up my friends over at google and told them to give me a consolation prize and they did! so now i can look at semi-creepy satellite photos that are only about a year old of nyc! sure it's not like being there but it does give you a cia-ish type of stalker vibe but hey it is fun.

in other news my ish that was supposed to be done by friday is now postponed until next friday due to technical issue, really. sure you haven't a clue what i'm talking about but hey.


a special shout out goes to the shitload of people that google is sending through Ldef's direction as of the last week or so. hi! enjoy and if you want to read some real writing feel free to click on the people linked on the side of my blog their the ishness personified. welp back to working on my list of people I don't like.

i am not a happy camper (wifey's bday post)

happy bday to wifey :-) she is "not worried about thirty" because today's her 27th. unfortunately it's also the day that makes or breaks the nyc trip which is grading on our nerves. i want need nothing more than to get out of this country before i'm at ikea with a sawed-off blaming my insanity on god, who speaks to me through my cell phone, video games and "rap music." let's not even get into the amount of work i have this week and my friday deadline for my blood, sweat and tears project -- those involved PLEASE..-- ish is hectic. so i'm sitting here with an ice grill/screw face and coffee mad at any and everything in my general vicinity.

today is also my best friend's 3-0 so happy bday to him. the problem with their bday is that it's been a happy reminder my whole life that mine is only 15 days away but this year it turned into a chinese-water-torture-with-a-guillotine-blade-above nightmare. judging by the slew of emails that i've received from various '75'ers since jan. 1st i'm not the only person going through this hellishness. *sigh*

but, it's wifey and patrick's bday today and i send out a happy bday on your personal holiday :-)

now back to sulking.

math

the popes dead and that's one compared to the 300,000 dead in Dafur, mathmatics.



if it's all mathmatics it doesn't add up somehow - Mos Def