Mr. Nigga

The whole N-word controversy really only stems from the innate belief that Black folks are too ignorant to formulate language and to know what they mean when they speak. No language anywhere is static. If people use a language and their geography changes, their economy changes, their circumstances change, then that language is GOING to be affected. New words are formed as new ideas occur.

This is one of the basic ideas behind anthropology. Anthropologists ideally want to study a culture, including its language, without any outside influence to avoid what they consider contamination. African cultures after the diaspora that spread its people all over this planet underwent a change. They could not stay the same. The languages of the people snatched from their homes and taken to The New World underwent all sorts of change. Cultures clashed violently and like any oppressed people, those who were and who had been slaves took their small victories where they could get them.

Now, consider this: I'm from Detroit. Detroit's first Black mayor was elected in 1970, the year of my birth. My entire existence has been in an environment where the descendants of slaves who are my people were self-aware and self-governing. In that environment, the word 'nigga', as it was used, was & is different than the word "nigger".

Now, this is the part where you start squirming in your chair and declare that, based on your experience, this is semantics. You cannot wrap your mind around this. Even though, you call your female friend your "friendgirl" rather than your "girlfriend" to avoid confusion, you can't see it. Even though you can call your best male friend "ya boy", but would be insulted with him if a White man called him 'boy', you don't comprehend.

So, let me just make it clear to you and to those knucklehead White folks who are clamoring to use the word because we can. I can say 'nigga'. I'm not saying 'the N-word". Fuck that. I know what I mean when I say it. My boy knows what I mean when I say it. That is the essence of communication in this changed English language, Urban American dialect. Until you understand the proper usage, context and differentiation between 'nigga' and 'nigger', you can't use the word. It's one of those things like the "'i' before 'e', except after 'c' rule". It doesn't have to make sense. It can even not apply sometimes. Just roll with it.

Hip Hop

My lady.

My love.

Hip hop.

Electric Feel

Online Therapy: $1

This is a crazy world we live in. All these self-help books, websites and relationship gurus got you folks bonkers, f'real. Before you do some of the shіt you do, consider whether its some ol' weird shіt only customary in America or whether it's something more commonplace with the rest of humanity. Because, people pay lip service to this fact, but they don't truly acknowledge it: American political correctness is out of fucking control.

Those who fail to heed history's lessons are doomed to repeat its failures.

The lapdogs are determining the way things are done, nowadays. They sneer at the curs and mutts for their coarseness. The lapdogs believe in the big, bad wolf…but, they think they'll never deal with him or his like. Look at some of the simple things. Microsoft Word corrects gender-specific wording like mailman or policeman if you don't turn off the setting. Apparently, enough people think using "postman" is wrong to elicit the effort to program word-processing software to slap your hand for using it.

Meanwhile, the biggest economy in the world is the one where, not all that long ago, they used to kill their girl children because boy children were preferable.




Women like to confront me about being divorced. They say this: "You still love your ex-wife." Or, "You and your ex-wife are going to get back together again." Then, they stare into my eyes, furiously searching for some dramatic realization and revelation where I say some shіt like, "Y-y-you're right! *sigh* I didn't realize it. But, I do still love my ex-wife."

*Cue sunset*
*Fade*
*Credits*

Bіtch, just cuz YOU got pregnant by your ex after y'all broke up…

You can't be me. OK? Stop watching Oprah! At 4:00, just turn your TV the fuсk off and go sit on the porch. How 'bout that?

Ugh! That's why I'm really not giving a fuсk about dating right now. I'm just really not. I mean: my eyes are open. But, I'm real cool sittin' at home watchin' Netflix. BY. MY. FUCKING. SELF.

'Honey do' List, my black ass!

Oh, lord! I forgot about what happened the last time I thought about this shіt! OK, look! Don't call me mad & cussing cuz I had this soliloquy on tap, ok? This ain't about YOU, per se.

Loose the hounds!

I just saw this F-Cup mami putting the breast milk that she just expressed into the refrigerator downstairs. Thankfully, I made it back upstairs without banging this thing into any doorknobs or causing one of the biddies in the back to shriek and faint from her consideration of the dimensions. Good Lord! You should see those puppies. Actually, those things are hounds. She has to harness them.

*fanning*

She's safe, though. Unless a chick showed me the Restraining Order she had against a dude/brawd, I wouldn't poach a servicemanperson's woman. S/He's out there being shot at by [whatever we're labeling our non-American opponents this year]. S/He won't have to worry about me poaching the cooch whilst doing so.

DA/DT

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I had other considerations of life, liberty and the pursuit of happyness(sic). But, unless I put them down right when I'm having them, then *poof* they vanish into the æther.

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Back to the grind…

I'm going back to training tonight. My trusty steed had some issues. I had my radiator and my starter replaced, one right after the other, in the last six weeks. I couldn't make that trek the way I normally would. *psy* As a consequence, this is going to h-u-r-t. I have to tone my muscles back up AND lose the gut I put on. Somewhere along the way, I lost that drive that I had to get back to class in the first place. I don't know what's going on with me with that.

It's an odd moment to look at your life and have the self-realization that you've actually been depressed. Am I still depressed? Will I be able to dig myself out of the hole I put myself into? I was off for a week and a half, grew a beard…hair was woolly. As I got ready for work today, I ended up doing a self-assessment whilst shaving my head and face.

Maybe that's the issue with me. Women sense depression like dogs sense fear, don't they? LoL@that.

Meh! Whutiver! Doesn't really matter, does it? I'm both amused and appalled at myself slipping into/being in this state with all of this proclaimed & diagnosed self-awareness that I'm supposed to possess.

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Love! Hate! Sex! Pain!

…makes me wanna have a knockdown, drag-out, superhero/Saiyan fightsmashbrawl with a brawd the way Will Smith & whatsherface did in Hancock.




…anyway.