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.'

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

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.

Gone

I told you: I don't have friends. I have family, genetic and non-genetic. Jacqués Brown is family.

When I met Jacqués, he was still in middle school. He was this laid back, li'l, stocky kid with an electric smile. Jacqués is younger than my li'l sister. But, it didn't really matter. He was always in the mix with the guys my age and older. He wasn't a pest, though.

I always greeted Jacqués with: "Wassup, Jacque?" I did that because it reminded me of Bugs Bunny. He knew. He didn't care. He was always cool. When Kevin was in trouble, or when Eric was being Eric, I could look at Jacque and roll my eyes and we'd both laugh. But, he wasn't a mean kid.

Jacque could dance, too. Jacque broke out with the jit at my brother's graduation party and my jaw dropped. Kid was NICE wit' it.

I'm numb. I just saw Jacqués in May. He was fighting a respiratory infection. He was annoyed by some of the things he was dealing with professionally and personally, but he was still easy with that grin of his. We parted with a promise to stay in touch and we did through Facebook and, more rarely, phone calls.

The last enemy struck again.

Goodbye, my brother. I'll miss you.

Being Proud of Your Mate

It's popular and it's fashionable to maintain a cynical, sarcastic view of life as we know it. I know. I indulge my smartassed, darkly obnoxious sense of humor on a daily basis. It compliments my low opinion of the dismally low intellect displayed by the human herd.

Still and all, my Calvinistic viewpoint does not translate in certain areas of life. I get a kick out of seeing couples who are truly together in a loving relationship. The press and the public have this grisly feeding frenzy when couples in the limelight break up. When the rumors of the breakup & dissolution of the marriage of Will Smith & Jada Pinkett-Smith were rampant, people went absolutely nuts with rumors regarding the couple. The simian instinct to tear them down was frankly appalling.

Cleaned the closet and then golfed with my bff :) - J. Pinkett Smith

It did my heart good to see the photo Mrs. Pinkett-Smith posted of her favorite golfer. It was a photo of her husband. The cynical will sneer and claim that all such instances of projected affection & togetherness are merely window dressing, sleight of hand, and smoke & mirrors designed to fool the slow-witted. Yet, whatever the cynics say, that couple has remained together for more years than seems typical for "Hollywood couples".

The photo above shows the United States Secretary of State Hillary Clinton watching her husband from her current overseas assignment as he addresses the Democratic National Convention. This could very well be a photo opportunity orchestrated by the Democratic party to show 'family values'. I'm sure that's the idea upon the minds of many. But, when I look at her face, I see simple pride in her man.

That is a priceless look in a relationship. Gentlemen, disdaining all the games seemingly inherent in modern relationships and gaining that look legitimately is a milestone worth striving for and it makes your relationship worthwhile. Ladies, taking a moment to honestly look at the good in your man and seeing him with pride is something you need to take the time to do...to remind yourself of why you're together. That goes both ways.

Y'know, this is me talking to myself (as is the majority of this blog). As always, do what ya like. But, hard work & professionalism is what I look to bring to whatever I do as a matter of principle. Maybe one day, I'll have a woman who shares my photo and calls me her favorite 'something or other'.

My Niece Asked...

"What's the Right Time to Get Married?"

I replied:

There's no number. Don't do it until you find the man that's going to love you more than you love him and that you cannot possibly live without. Don't do it until you find the man that wants to wake up next to you even after you're a li'l old lady. Don't do it until you find the man that you love despite (and maybe because of) his flaws. Don't do it because he's pressuring you. Don't do it because you 'think it's a good idea'. Don't get married if you figure you can just get divorced if it doesn't work out. 

Get married because you've found the missing piece to your soul and the two of you complete each other. Find someone you can marry for life. I tell you this from experience. Each break-up and divorce tears a piece of you away and after enough scar tissue, you can't feel the way you used to. Ask around. You'll see.

Tina Rivers

Tina was smart. Her conversation was always intelligent. Her voice was kind of earthy, always feminine but a little deep. It was sexy.

Tina was always a lady. She had a huge heart. She worked for a non-profit organization in New Orleans. She was professional and focused. Then, she'd get annoyed and say something about somebody getting on her nerves that was so profane. I'd always pause and replay the sounds I'd just heard to be sure that she'd said what I thought she said. Then, she'd giggle that Betty Rubble giggle.

Tina would get down sometimes. Then, she'd remember that she'd survived a miracle. That'd get her past a lot of the petty bullshit that office professionals deal with on a daily basis. Tina survived leukemia as a teenager. She'd received a bone marrow transplant and had a full remission. As far as she was concerned, life was too short to stay upset about a lot of the things we deal with.

Still & always, I miss you, Tina.

Tina got the sniffles. Then, she kept the sniffles. I nagged her like a li'l bitch about going to the doctor for two months before she went. She finally went to see the doctor. Her leukemia had come roaring out of remission. She was Stage 3, moving into Stage 4, already. She fought her leukemia, too. She fought it and did not give up. The Last Enemy won this battle, though.

Christina Rivers is my friend. Her death does not, will not, and cannot change that. This is not her birthday. This is not the anniversary of her death. I was just thinking about my friend today and I wanted to talk about her. She taught me to value the time that I have. She made me laugh at a time in my life when I didn't have much to smile about. She was a better friend to me than I realized for those lessons alone.

Getting This Off My Chest...and Moving On

I just stretched and popped all the kinks out of my chest.

* * * * *

Y'know, everybody wants different results but they don't want to change anything about what they're doing right now. This is ESPECIALLY true in employment and in relationships. I see and hear so many women complaining about the men they date. Three times out of four, there's a man to their right who loves everything about them and who wants nothing more than their love in return. But, he's usually not the type of knucklehead that she has her heart set on.

Taking my own advice, I think I'm about to find me a cute, fluffy chick who loves me as much as she loves her snacks. I know what I want. I want a pretty girl who loves her some me, who'll be my partner in building a LIFE for the two of us, and who won't give two fucks about the expectations inherent in our respective culture(s). I thought that's what I had. Turns out, I was the dummy. Yay, me!

I'm still really hurt about the way my relationship ended. I'm apprehensive about opening myself up to someone because I know the effort that I put into this relationship. I was very honest about myself and my life and my ambitions. I doted on her and put her above all. I supported her and really tried to communicate with her about the way she was feeling and the way I was feeling. I looked to her only and I stopped associating with all of the women who I used to talk to...to the point of completely cutting ties with some. She punted my heart into the stands and trotted off the field wearing a smirk.

You think that's hyperbole. I got hit by a car earlier this year. Not: my car got hit by a car earlier this year. I was a pedestrian and a li'l White girl whipped around the corner and into the crosswalk as I was crossing the street. After jumping airborne, I landed on the hood of her car. My ex-girlfriend hung up on me that night.  I wasn't arguing with her, mind you. I was honestly mulling over the fact that if I had gotten killed, there's no one in this godforsaken state who would even bury me. I told her that she should let my Dad bury me if something like that happens. He & I don't get along that well, but my father will always do the right thing. That was too much for her, I guess. She thought I was being a punk for considering my relationship with my parents.

Yet, when her family did some things to upset her...to the point where she was crying...I was there for her, letting her know that the situation would pass and that I had her back. I asked her if she wanted me to do anything for her. That's what I'm supposed to do for my woman, right?

Anyway...I'm done with all of that.

I'm trying to figure out what to do with myself. I think my next step should be getting my passport. Then, I can stop limiting myself to these borders and go make myself some money somewhere where they've never even heard of Love & Hip Hop.

Vainglory

It's interesting how this culture equates a man's parenting skills with how much crap he can put up with from his child's mother (and whether HE pays child support on time). "If he really wanted to be involved, he wouldn't let that stop him from seeing his child." May I please request that you push your head FARTHER up your ass to the point where it muffles your dumbassed mouth? The number of games that some parents play using their children as game pieces is staggering. Don't even think to pretend that women are not above using their children so.

The rule of thumb for you, my slow-witted friend, is this: Anything a man can think, feel, say or do, women have proven themselves just as capable of thinking, feeling, saying or doing. So, get off of that high, pretentious horse.

I have tried NOT to drag out details of my particular baggage because, "Hey! I picked her, right?" But, I will say that a man can get to the point where he wants to cut his losses in a situation...especially if the children are complicit in the duplicity. The promise and ability to "do what they want to do" goes far in gaining children's cooperation. After dealing with established patterns of behavior, enabling, deception and simple bullshit, I get to the point where I let them run headlong into the wall I see and they don't.

* * * * *

Professor X (X-Clan)

I've been told that I'm too serious. I don't have patience for some forms of bullshit. Love & Hip Hop (whatever city its filmed in) will never be something that entertains me. That show and those behaviors are some dumb shit. These types of folks are exactly who Professor X was describing when he said, "Vainglorious!" That you like the show says more about you than you're comfortable acknowledging.

When a person's sole criterion for judging the worth of an individual is their monetary net worth, they tend to deal with people who are devoid of real human emotion. You get people who treat other people, and worse: themselves, as objects.

Even if you realize that those behaviors are unhealthy, your viewership enables more of that type of programming to be greenlighted. "Ion't really like the show. I just watch it." *smh* That's what a rating is, numbskull. You increase the ratings just by having your TV on the channel.

I'd say that's food for thought, but whatever! Duwhutchalike...as usual.

Ever the fool...

• My ex-wife "kidnapped" my son. He visited for a weekend. I got a text telling me that he's moved in with her. I don't even know where she lives.
• My girlfriend broke up with me. Just dumped me and won't even talk to me now.
• The good ol' boy that I'm forced to work with under the restructuring of the company I work at takes inordinate glee in the twist he gives the knife that's perpetually lodged in my spine.
• I already have insomnia. Now, I can't sleep at all. I'm awake until I pass out, basically.

The Universe is up to her games of benign neglect, again. I relaxed a little with what I thought was a new lease on life and let myself forget. Lessons learned over ages, epoch, eras and millenia has taught her that the cruelest torture that you can apply to a man is to give him a glimpse of hope and then let entropy slowly rob him of everything he has & is...leading all the way up to him losing his life.

Let the Rain Come Down

What I like most about being in a relationship is the feeling of being a part of something that is greater than the sum of its parts. I thoroughly enjoy being able to talk to her and clear my thoughts knowing that she has my back and that she'll be there for me. I enjoy that because that's what I do my level best to do for her. I love HARD. I don't hold back. I'm wide open with my lady. Everything that I am, I give to her.

That's why my soul is rent, torn, and bleeding a steady, slow drip, right now. I'm having a really difficult time in ignoring this and forgetting about her, too. That's really what people mean by "move on", after all.

I promised myself that I was NEVER going to feel like this again. I was doing well, too. I was home, raising my children, minding my business, playing my PlayStation and not seeking affection or attention from ANYONE. Enough of that! Putting myself out there for the fickle affections of the 'modern American woman'? No, thank you! I'm good!

Then, here she comes! She's different. She's not like them other bitches! First words ever said to me? "Will you marry me?"

*smh@me*

Such a fucking sucker!

I keep hearing the lyrics to Prince's 17 Days in my head.

Fuck, I hurt!

Muckraking

The worst thing about the internet is the people on it. Gaw! Shut up, sometimes. Every news site has a comments section below its stories, now. If you want to see how stupid your neighbors are, then go read those comments. No matter what the story is, some knob is diametrically opposed. No matter what the story is, some jackass will find a way to turn it into an argument about Obama.

More Cute Kittens and other Baby Animals

Comments:
It's just a matter of time before ObamaCare forces you to eat kittens! These Liberals have their head in the sand!

-xXBlackOpsNeoConXx

*smh* Whatever, dickhead!

As my mother used to quote when faced with public assholism: Better that people think you're a fool than that you open your mouth (or click Submit) and remove all doubt.

Anyway, check this out:

Liberal

Moderate

Conservative

Both Liberal AND Conservative are political EXTREMES. The sooner you twats realize that, the sooner you can shut up. Sheesh!

---

RIP Sherman Hemsley

Sherman Hemsley's character, George Jefferson, was groundbreaking. We tuned in for years to watch his antics. He set the stage for many of the sitcoms and characters that have followed The Jeffersons.

RIP Chad Everett

I remember him from 70s and early 80s TV shows. We'd go over Big Mama's house. Big Mama was my dad's godmother. She was short and stout. She always had candy. Sometimes, she made gingerbread. My 6'3" dad would be reduced to a little boy when she baked.

Like a lot of old, black ladies, she had her shows. We'd watch Barnaby Jones over there a lot. Sometimes, we'd watch Trapper John, M.D., McCloud or Columbo. Chad Everett was that suave dude.

---

I'm at another crossroads in this existence. I struggled and pressed and worked to get to this level of management...only to realize it's just another level of sludge in the sewer of American Business.

My fucking Idly Rich Plan sucks ass, I swear.

---

Now that the hoopla has died down, I'm finally watching 24. THAT's what you monkeys were all goofy about? *smh* If ONE "good guy" did something smart, 24 would be 3. In this first season, every broad on this show is a fucking, useless hostage waiting to be grabbed. You think I'm being misogynistic, but you should save that accusation for the producers. The show's on Netflix. Every female character in the first half of the first season was a hostage at some point. Go stream it and see for yourself.

*This is the point when some knob says that it was the first season and it takes time for a show to catch its stride*

I'll keep watching until I get so nauseated that I can't suppress the rising of bile. But, uh, it ain't lookin' good so far. One reason for this insulting dynamic of 'girl hostages' is simple: Hollywood sucks ass...usually literally.

Hollywood fight choreographers, for the most part, have yet to accurately portray the dynamics of hand to hand combat. So, women in action movies continue to be reduced to caricatures. They're either hostages or they're ridiculous.

Weight classes exist in every major professional fighting organization for a reason. You can't ignore the physics of inertia, mass & force. A 5'7", 135 lb. woman beating a 6', 200 lb. man who has been fighting and training for as long as she has in a protracted hand-to-hand scuffle is stupid. While there are exceptions to every rule, on average amongst martial artists and fighters, there is a demonstrable difference in strength. Even when I'm training against a smaller man, I have to remember to use technique and not strength. (Side Note: Girls have been trying to knee us in the balls since we were six. Try that in a real conflict, you're just gonna piss him off and he's going to punch you as hard as he can.)

Wanna see tight, believable, beautifully choreographed fights? Watch Ecks vs. Sever again. Lucy Liu is "li'l bitty". Lucy Liu's character never matched mass or strength against her opponents. She was smart, fast and I never had to suspend belief to watch her in fight in that role.

Anyway, my business dive suit is hosed off and dried. Back to the muck.

Deuces...

All In One Life

Sneaky...

*psy* I need another PS3. I'm not buying one until these kids get out, though.

Forget "Like A Man"...Just THINK!

People who know me will attest to this fact: Treating me like you think I’m stupid is one of the surest ways to get me to show you how wrong you are…usually in a manner that makes you look really simple. I used to tell my ex-girlfriend all the time, “Stop managing me.” I could tell when she was trying to use conflict resolution techniques to assuage me. Newp! Use your own brain! Even if the methodology of thought in which you engage me is one you learned, personalize it. The only textbook solution that will work on me is disengagement. In other words, go away!

Come to think of it, that’s the final conflict resolution technique that she used on me. I’m amused. Touché, pussycat!

---

It’s cold as a witch’s tit here today! Why the hell is it 50-some’n degrees in Atlanta, right now?

---

I watched Think Like A Man this weekend. It was ok: Happily ever after for Black girls, and whatnot. They’ll leave the theater feeling empowered. That’s important.

Meanwhile…in THIS galaxy…men with brains three feet above their pelvis remain disenchanted with the characterization in the movies.

There were too many characters in this movie. What did we really know about the women? Having a relationship with a woman without knowing what’s particularly squirrelly about her is usually a recipe for a lot of arguing. Experience and anecdotal evidence speak volumes on the subject. For instance, why did one of the characters sleep with men on first dates before she was so miraculously saved by this dating bible written by a stand-up comedian? Chris Brown’s himbo character could NOT have been SMARTER when he approached her initially. Think about it. So, what was it? Daddy issues? Was she molested as a young girl? Was she just horny all the time? Seems trivial, but each one of those issues has kept many a man up at night wondering what the hell was wrong with his woman? But, that was untouched.

That was just one issue in five. Youngest female COO in corporate history? What drove that? Naked ambition? Fear of failure?

Where was that li’l boy’s daddy?

The best-rounded man in that clique of doofuses was the married, white man. He was also the wimpiest. Dude dunked on him and he congratulated him. Testosterone replacement therapy is in order. Did it have to be portrayed that way? Newp! But, the perception in the dominant culture in American society is that a married man is a domesticated man. Minivans & helmets for the kids cuz that’s what she wants.

Regardless, the rest of those male characters were so one-dimensional and flawed that if they turned sideways, they’d disappear. Sistas SWEAR that that’s how men really are on their dating scene. “You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince.” *shrug* I know there are a lot of stupid, venal, selfish men out there. There’s no sense in being defensive about that. Still, there are a lot of good men out here who are struggling to do the right thing in a society that continues to look down upon them and who passed on or who are viewed as 'undateable'.

Anyway…if you watch the movie and enjoy it for the sake of entertainment, who could find fault in that? But, if you take those scripted behaviors or the book that inspired this movie as some sort of behavioral guide, then you can probably return your brain to sender marked “UNUSED”.

F'real, tho...

Paragraph upon paragraph, months later...

In the end, this why she mad:

...and, I wasn't even trying to play it like this.

If you know you're ultimately incompatible with someone, how long are YOU going to play pretend? Then, you tell them, without either being inconsiderate or mean, that this thing you have going on doesn't work for you. You tell them that you don't WANT them to change themselves. You just want/need to move forward.  That, after all, is the entire point of DATING. You're testing your compatibility with this person.

There was a period after the breakup where my sole concern was improving my life for my brats and for myself. I was completely unconcerned with dating. PS3 was all the entertainment I needed. It was during that time period that I ran into someone interesting. That is no slight on ANY of my exes.

So, please stop taking it like that. You know you couldn't deal with me or my bratz, anyway.