Musing

This guy looks like Aladdin. He's entirely too aware of his own looks. He HAS to be the villain in SOMEBODY'S story.

🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟

Even if we don't understand it, there is science behind every interaction of all forms of matter. That means there is some form of MATH, some equation that gets solved, every time something happens. Because we don't understand the science, we make up stories about things. 

"Two hearts intertwined..." 

"It IS true! My sister's boyfriend's second cousin ate this girl's spaghetti and they've been together ever since!"

"Girl, I can't even talk to [insert astrological sign]! We just do NOT get along!"

Then, you have religion. Religion is codified spiritualism. Religion requires as much FAITH as science does. (What faith does science require? Faith that the math your field of study is based on is correct, for one.)

According to Wikipedia, "There are an estimated 10,000 distinct religions worldwide, though nearly all of them have regionally based, relatively small followings."

Atheist believe they're all false. Religionists believe 9,999 are false. Agnostics are waiting for a sign.

Whenever you start poking at the miracles and phenomena of any given religion from a scientific standpoint, the standard response from those adherents breaks down to, 'I don't know! Magic?'

There was a Tree of the Knowledge of Good & Bad and a Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden. Eve ate from that first tree. That changed her at a fundamental level. How? At first, she didn't know. Then, she did. 

1. What was the fruit?

2. What did it physically do to her brain to change her level of awareness? Serotonin? Amino acids? Dopamine? Nucleic acids?

3. Did their children inherit that change of awareness? In the millenia [Adam-930, Methuselah-969] following The Fruit Incident, humans cavorted with alien life forms ["fallen" angels], had enough hybrid kids by them to spark off legends & mythologies globally, and gave us The Uncanny Valley.

4. Did Noah have different dosage of that changed biology than his extended family?

5. What did that do to us, comparatively? Physically, mentally, and emotionally, how do modern humans compare to the humans who died before The Flood?

I know that I'm asking these questions as if that is established historical fact. But, it is established historical fact in the minds of MOST Christians and Jews. Why claim the mantle if you don't believe your own source material?

...and, no, I don't want a Bible Study. Just answers.

Diaspora

Lightning flashed. Beneath the boughs of the massive willow, the ground was as dry as indoors. For one instant, the space was vacant; empty of everything except pollen and dust motes. The next instant, the space fairly crackled with power.

Ananse tittered in that annoying, knowing laugh of hers.

'Is this it then?'

Outside of the protective canopy of the willow, the wind picked up. The storm was closing.

Manjack slipped into the relative silence of the space. He nodded to Jengu and gave a silent dap to Jim Crow.

'Wassup, Coyote! How you doin', Ananse?'

N/Dex cleared his throat.

'There are a couple more folks contacted. Give me a few more minutes and I can tell you all why I contacted you.'

Lightning flashed once more much closer.  Shango and Ogun pushed into the space beneath the willow. The smell of leather, metal, and ozone wafted from the two warriors. 

Thunder boomed. The storm was upon them. The wind gusted. 

Big Ajax was here. He walked in crackling with energy. 

Ananse smirked at the same time that Manjack cut his eyes at the shadows. psyqyq arrived in his customary fashion.

'You!' Ajax huffed, 'Who invited him?!?'

Though his espression remained blank and unchanged, psyqyq's air of bored readiness was palpable.

'Why are we here, Dex?'

N/Dex cleared his throat and began to speak. 

'We have all been raised to believe the air of this world... the atmosphere of this planet... is what made us as we are.

'In the interest of thorough research, I have been examining the Diasporan Artificial Intelligence logs.'

psyqyq smiled indulgently and prompted N/Dex to continue. 

'What did you discover, Dex?'

An image coalesced in the air before the collective group. 

'I discovered several lines of binary code embedded in a Comment. It could not have been accidental. None of the AI knew it was there. '

The image shifted to display a set of numbers. 

Ananse asked in a soft, threatening voice, 'And, well? Did you?'

Heads whipped to her and back to N/Dex in confusion. 

'The file says, "Call when you get this,"' N/Dex explained.

'Yes. Yes, I did,' continued N/Dex. 'I was instructed to invite you here.'

Observations on Futility

There are things to be said that can only properly be voiced by incarnations of psyqyq. Weird how I've built that mystique.

One of my ex-girlfriends once said, "If he can fuck you for two hours and not cum, then your pussy is trash." There's a certain wisdom in that.

#DoSomeKegels

By the way, "trash" is my new favorite pejorative adjective.

The Battle of the Sexes is STILL a waste of time.

BUT...

We ALL know there are some lame-assed muhfukkaz who should NEVER be allowed to skeet anywhere other than on their knuckles. What people never discuss is the number of women whose only claim to relevance is squeezing out a litter. That broad been dumb her whole life. How'd she get a voice in this conversation? She spelled her own kid's name wrong. Micheal? Mersaydes?

#GoSitDown

Summadeez dudes, though, are just dumb for no reason. Every big ass they come across (cum across?), and they are hollering,"Wifey!"

I guess that, if you're GOING to deal with a brand who's ugly on the inside, she needs to be cute/pretty/sexy on the outside. No sense putting up with her bullshit if she looks like Martin in drag.

You'd better make SANITY your criterion. you can only make a subjective judgement about that. But, at least you'll be in the ballpark of the madness that you can accept. THEN, be a better person than you were yesterday.

Meh! I'm leaving. This meandered a long way from where it started in my brain.

Containment Failure

My parents still just shake their heads at me. I don't think my siblings "get" me. Yet, the way my brain works is a constant source of amusement to me. I look back at things I've said and crack up laughing because I'm SUPPOSED to be more sophisticated than that.

"Her garters are about to suffer containment failure. Her booty is gonna sound like Donald Duck after a bee sting busting out of those straps."

I cannot stop laughing at that. When I look at the picture again, I see exactly what I meant, too. So, besides the expression, my perception amuses me. Self-awareness has its costs.

You're hitting it from the back and your song comes on. Then, right after the little pause, you spank all that ass and sing along, "Ssssmack my bitch up!" She turns and glares at you over her shoulder...and cums...hard.

#Feminism

Planet Apes

Sean P. ripped through this track like a shark rips through tuna.

RIP, bruh. Your talent and public persona is surely missed.

Noon Chuckas

You Disgust Me
Gangrene (Alchemist & Oh No The Disrupt)

[Verse 1: Oh No]

The pen is still soiled
I spill that oil like Penzoil
Then peel you like tin foil
The game has been spoiled
Call up that temp lawyer
Blame it on the sanity so they could get help for you
I play these bars over that burner
That lost soldier, that sober
That ogre, that boss told you
[?]
That sly niggas to loaned you
That rock and roll hall of fame material after I stone you
You a loner, I specialize in aromas
I let 'em sniff when I roll up a glimpse of that California
Then put 'em in that deep level of a coma
They rolling up on that zone
And see y'all don't want me ta chauffeur
And see y'all don't want me to show up
I come and fuck up your sofa
Bunch of little crumbs like I was dumping a toaster
Bunch of fucking bums chill with y'all heads post up
Before y'all roast up
We'll be there to get that Hope cut
Ayo, hold up
Sit yo' bitch ass down
Count this right here

[Interlude]

[Verse 2: Alchemist]

Get money, fuck bitches
Turn knobs, touch switches
While I cut pies and serve dishes
Smell the scent from the kitchen, I'm on a mission
Keep the low from the toaster oven until it crispin'
Play the door while I perform, you collect admission
Needles skipping, the loop's on repetition
Palms itching, stand on the mound of dirt
Like a pitcher while I'm rubbing my money, grip is for friction
It's the bumbaclot rasta caucasian blowing wax
Limbs relax like a tropical vacation
See me in the public, same on the mini cam
Composed doctrine know it I'm Terry Lewis and Jimmy Jam
Rhythm and blues brothers
Flow through the gutter like used rubbers
Chain swinging like some Noon Chuckas
I'm a criminal advocate, money magnet
Saran wrap the work, you looking comfortable
Bagging it

[Verse 3: Oh No]

[Yeah!]
Under pressure, I'm a survivor
I could throw 'em a time or let 'em expire
Rocking a fresh J's, white Tee attire
With dirty Levis, nobody flier
They must have wings to achieve getting higher
Remember, y'all the customers and we the suppliers
Cause we distributing that high to the clients with an institute
We teaching the pilots how to fly it
See us broken down into a science, read the signs
It says it's full of chemicals inside it
Like cooking got it bubbling and frying
And it's only trouble cause you niggas know it's death defying
I bare hand scrap, trying rumble with a lion
And I'm an animal, who the fuck you eyin'
Cause you know we ain't buying it, we supplying it
Sending ships piratin’ while they riotin’
Aargh!

Top Ten - Logic & Big K.R.I.T.

Future Structural Engineers

Clunk

Bran New Heavy

LoL@me http://t.co/s3uZy1EbD4 pic.twitter.com/99Q53r6y3y

— psy (@psyqyq) December 1, 2014

I can't stop laughing at this.

Share and Share Alike

Raptors guard Lou Williams has two girlfriends. His girlfriend has a girlfriend & he apparently dates both. Amazing. pic.twitter.com/6QSav7rZ0S

— NBA Legion (@MySportsLegion) December 16, 2014

F'real, though: When you hit it right, she ain't 'BOUT to share!

What's next?

Todd Duffee wants a higher ranked fighter. Brendan Schaub wants to reverse his trend of sloppy losses. Easy match, Joe Silva.

Idle Thought

Honestly, I'm just glad that Oscar Pistorius doesn't have ebola. The way that he keeps crying and snotting all over that courtroom, he'd infect half of South Africa.

ZER0

I had a long, cathartic conversation with a very good friend of mine tonight. It seemed to be mutually therapeutic. I talked about things going on in my head, my heart, and my life. To my surprise, I told her something I've never told another living soul. I felt as if something of a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, too.

Do you know one thing I =>fully<= realized? I want a wife...not a wifey...not a fuckbuddy...not any of those other made-up, "modern" parodies of a real relationship. That's the rut. THAT is the rut!!!

Dudes don't hold hands any more, y'know? I want to hold my wife's hand. I want to wash her hair, clean the kitchen with her, and give her the side eye about her driving. I want to call in to work on a stormy morning and stay home with her watching Cary Grant movies. Sure, I can do that with a girlfriend. But, I want to do that with MY wife.

My friend said she pretty much aims to not be unhappy...which is something I have found myself doing. But, if life was a number line, like in math class, then not unhappy is just...zero. That's a sucky way to enjoy the GIFT of life, ain't it? But, people FIERCELY protect their zero. There has to be more.

Now, I have to get MYself together. Ugh!

Thanks to Natty Dreadnok for finding this gem amongst the jetsam & flotsam.

Here We Go

I think that I need to start writing again. Internalizing the levels of stress I'm dealing with is not helping. In the end, this is more my little sliver of the internet than any other space that I utilize. So, I shall begin again...here. Maybe, I can achieve a personal breakthrough, or at least some traction. Yes...traction would be nice.

So...what the hell is wrong with me?

Where should I begin? The beginning? Son of two highly intelligent people who had every intent to move to Colombia, S.A. to become Christian missionaries. My mom found out she was pregnant with me the day my Dad quit his job.

Maybe not THAT far back. But, check this out: They're still married. They're still thick as thieves. You think *I* am an ass? I am. I can't even deny that. But, I don't hold a candle to my father. Physically and emotionally, I have a slight edge. Mentally and spiritually? That man is a sun to my candle. My mama loves that man, though. (I do too, if you don't know. But, that's not the point.)

That's the example I have though. In all of my perambulations through this torturous exercise we call "life", my base...the most fundamental part of me...is one where a man marries and builds a life with an equally formidable partner and it is the two of you braced back-to-back wielding the sword of God against all comers.

#FAIL

So, now what?

So, now I reach for my now-classic emotional detachment and deal with the issues that confront me.

I'm too much of this and not enough of that for the women that I've met. I still crave that attention. But, with so many things confronting me right now, maybe I oughta just sit my ass down. Lord knows I don't wanna deal with another rejection on top of the struggles I'm having taking care of my children.

Still, it'd be nice to be wrong.

Just thinking...

---

I'm 6'4" and about 245-250 lbs, right now. I'm too tall and too stocky for the regular rack, but too short and too thin for Big & Tall. I'm too 'straight'...too 'sophisticated'...for hood niggaz, but too hood for folks from the suburbs. I'm too spiritual for agnostics & atheists, but nowhere near religious enough for churchy folks. My entire life has been spent with an outsider's perspective with not enough of one thing, but too much of another, depending on your perspective. But, a big part of growing up is learning to accept who I am while still trying to improve on the parts of me that need improvement. I'm still growing...and I hope to never stop being able to accept my flaws while I work on them.

How's Ya Dick Hangin'? 100 Year Old Woman Talks Dicks With News Reporter!

Why does this remind me of my family?

Hey! Read This!

An essay was posted on the Very Smart Brothas website regarding the friendship that Trayvon Martin had with Rachel Jeantel. Young Ms. Jeantel was on the phone with Trayvon moments before he was killed. Now, Ms. Jeantel was clowned terribly by many people for her perceived lack of education during her testimony. While it was their job to attempt to discredit Ms. Jeantel's testimony, the defense attorneys for the accused seemed to take special effort to make Ms. Jeantel seem as if she did not have the mental capacity to understand what was going on the night Trayvon was killed. A photo of the primary defense attorney, Don West, was posted on Instagram after Ms. Jeantel's testimony was completed. Mr. West was shown eating ice cream with his daughter and one other person. The photo was captioned, "We beat stupidity celebration cones". The photo was hashtagged "#zimmerman," "#defense" and "#dadkilledit."

Meanwhile, Ms. Jeantel's friend is still dead and the heartache of having to relive the night of his death is still fresh in her mind while a good portion of the country laughs at her or insults her appearance. My heart hurts over this kid's death. My heart hurts over any 'good kid's' death. And, I'm disgusted at the way this culture treats its children. In a span of months, it has trivialized the death of a child with statements like "Sorry, 'innocent' boys don't try to beat up anyone, much less the local watchman" and then followed its callous disregard of the loss of the life of this young man with its mockery of the victim's friend.

*smh*

Shame on us all.

Anyway, I recommend that you go to the Very Smart Brothas website and look at the article to get an insight on the interpersonal relationship of Trayvon and Rachel.

Deuces...

Sources
George Zimmerman trial: Instagram photo posted by defense attorney's daughter comes under fire
Rachel, Trayvon, And The Saddest Thing I've Ever Read
Trayvon Martin Was One of the Few Guys Who Didn’t Tease Rachel Jeantel- ROD VEREEN