...[R]Evolution...

Moving...

2011-07-27T08:23:00.000-09:30

So, just to keep you in the know, I have packed my stuff up and transitioned over to wordpress. Still not sure why, just needed a little change in scenery. The site name is the same, but the url is:

www.dateofdunbar.wordpress.com

Check me out. I'm still doing the dang thing.

Summer Wants/Needs 2011 (So far...)

2011-07-27T07:12:00.000-09:30

Wants:

Move into my apartment
Go on a Missions Trip
Jump into a Waterfall
Climb a Mountain
Take some pictures
Continue loving my love
To spread the word of the Word

Needs:

~~Move into my apartment~~
~~Go on a Missions Trip~~
~~Jump into a Waterfall~~
~~Climb a Mountain~~
~~Take some pictures~~
~~Continue living my life~~
To travel more, read more, learn more, be more

I've Got Nothing, Part Two

2011-07-27T07:00:00.000-09:30

Continuing from my last post...

So, like I said before, I have a history of being a people pleaser.

Not only am I cool with people, but I want them to LIKE being around me. I want to have stuff around me to keep folks engaged when they find themselves around me. Playstation 3, Michael Jackson Posters, you name it, I probably seriously thought about dropping my whole paycheck to fund it. I even have two Boondocks comic collections in my bathroom, JUST IN CASE someone finds themselves with the urge to read some Negro satire on the ceramic throne.

Back to Nicaragua.

We had been in this place for only a few days, but had already been exposed to some life-changing instances from La Chureca to Delirious. The truth of the need of missions and overseas support was made flesh and blood for me, no longer an irrelevant segment in a Sunday Morning service. And the effect it had on me?

...I was starting to shatter.

Now, I'm no emotional titan. I've shed a few tears in my day. Heck, even that one scene in that one movie had my eyeballs feeling a little liquid love (No, you won't know what movie it is, lest you all decide to join in one big innanet mocking party). But I was literally feeling my heart soften for these people.

So I wanted to do something. I wanted to help. I wanted to do......something.

I didn't even know what I wanted to do. If someone gave me a paperclip, a Tootsie Roll, and a copy of N'Sync's "Celebrity" and told me that it would change that village for the better, I would have done it. If only I had some stuff with me. A biodegradable shopping bag. My fifth grade Social Studies paper on the Oregon Trail. Something. Anything. But...

I had nothing. I had even left my camera back in the host house we were staying in.

There I was, a dread-headed kid from Brick City in a torn GAP t-shirt, worn denim shorts and sandals. Nothing more. Well, I had my poetry notebook, but it was in English, and Nicaragua is a Spanish-speaking country. I had dropped -39% in my appeal factor.

I won't say that my mood dropped significantly. I just wished that I had something to offer. I mean, I didn't even have anything interesting or humorous to say to them - not in Spanish anyway. I felt helpless, like there was no way I could help.

Then, one kid pointed at me. I got excited, because I hoped this meant something good. He started talking to our translator in a rapid pace, and I caught words like 'que' and 'pelo'.

Pablo, our translator, smiled and looked at me. He said, "They have never seen any one with hair like your's before. They think it's weird."

Praise hispanic baby Jesus.

The whole time, I was looking for my 'in', my angle to become some how relevant to these kids. I felt that without possessions and doodads, I wasn't worth their interest, and therefore purposeless. But the one thing that I had overlooked was actually...me.

My hair. My hair? My hair!

Funny, a simple demonstration of fashion and personal inquiry turns into an avenue to communicate with these kids. It was me, a part of me, with no sales tax, no price tag. They wanted to know about me. How did your hair come like that? Is it real? Are you sure it's not a mop?

God provides us with all we need in this life to be relevant. Sure, we may learn how to cute it, curve it, trim it, shape it, but we were born with all we need. In our mothers' wombs, we were created to serve his purpose, and no amount of televisions or designer brands or degrees will change or augment it. He is sufficient, and has designed us to be just the way he wants us.

Now, this is not a rant against any kind of modification. If you want a new haircut, who am I to stop you? If Jesus had access to Ray's Barber Shop, he may have stopped by for a shape-up; who knows. But those are optional. As a child of God, I am reborn, and that new birth has offered me an endless pool of relevance. Because when you have access to living water, what else do you really need?

I've Got Nothing, Part One

2011-07-26T15:20:00.000-09:30

I'll be honest here.

I'm a people pleaser, chronically so. I've got a couple of hypotheses on why I am this way, but it's a real part of me, one that I've had to struggle with for a while. Maybe in my youth, after being picked on one too many times, I decided that I'd learn how to get people to like me.

When you're in elementary school, learning how to get people to like you, want you, want to spend time with you was relatively easy. As long as you had something shiny and new, it was cake. Moving on to middle and high school, the game changed a bit. I had to switch from "having" something new to "being" something new. It wasn't about having the newest Power Ranger or wearing the newest sneakers with the pumps on them. Now, I had to have hair on my face. Instead of having coming books, I had to have the gall to listen to Black Rob and quote half of Biggie's "Ready To Die" album. Remember when cell phones first came out, and everyone engaged in this contest to see who had the coolest ringtone, or who was the nicest with 'Snake'? Yeah. I was on the sidelines, phone-less.

Fortunately, I learned a better way, and I observed how to attract people with a few things and still hold on to a few shards of my self.

Enter T.O.M. 2011.

I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I really didn't. A group of men from all over the Eastern Seaboard were going to the country of Nicaragua for a week together for, to put it simply, God's work. Whatever that may be. 'Being fluid' is what the team leader called it.

I decided to take advantage of this opportunity and leave it all behind. (#teamFE)

At this point, I had amassed a few objects that would entertain (read: trap) friends at my apartment, should they ever show interest. Wanna play Uno? I got that. Feel up to some Madden? I'm not good, but you're welcome to a free win. How's about laughing collectively at my spiffy Chuck Norris poster? Sounds like a plan. I wasn't in my prepubescent mind state, which thought that my stuff defined me, by any means. I had come a long way, but I still knew how to turn around, feel me?

I couldn't take any of this stuff with me. Not to Nicaragua, at least. I told myself, what would be the point? I doubt they have WiFi anyway.

So, off I went into the Central American country, the most expensive, look at me now-esque object being my cell phone. We ventured into a community by the name of San Antonio. Ruggedly developed, this village of people barely had the bare essentials. As a matter of fact, our first day in the San Antonio was part-introductory, part-inventory. We need to know what they needed, and one of those things were doors for their bathrooms - if you can call them bathrooms. They were more like concrete vases melded into the ground with a D.I.Y. infrastructure. Missionaries had come before and gotten the ball rolling on assisting this community on further development; we were basically doing a check-up.

This was not the tourist friendly side of Nicaragua. You won't see this photograph on any greeting cards.

They did not have. Not 'they didn't have much' or 'they didn't have a lot'. No.

They. Did. Not. Have.

The basics, maybe. A few crops of corn and coffee, probably. But the towers of blahblah that I complain about not having enough of? That was a joke, and I instantly felt ashamed.

Ashamed, because just a few days ago, I was in central Virginia, driving in my air conditioned car, anxiously awaiting for Batman: Arkham City to come out. I was trying to decide if it'd be worth it to buy it the minute it came out, or if I should pre-order it.

Ashamed, because after I leave...that's just it. I can leave. I can take my plane ticket and fly right back to security. Sure, I'm poor like church rat, but I still have SO MUCH. Health, health insurance (which are obviously two different things, but worthy of mentioning, given the context), transportation, relative reliability, et cetera.

I built my life around a security of stuff. Even now, I'm starting to feel the effects of the reverse culture-shock. An internal torment; do I want something just because it's available to me? Or do I really need it?

San Antonians, Delirians, the street kids of Matagalpa were surviving off of the bare minimum.

Did I need...anything?

to be continued...

Rings, Rainbows & Mosquitoes

2011-07-23T10:19:00.001-09:30

(re-posted from Facebook on June 9th, 2011)

…and as I lay me down to sleep, one of the thoughts going through my head is the rainbow that seemed to have been following us the entire day.

Today, June 9th, 2011 is the day that I decided to make a few changes in my life. Like most changes, this one had been a long time coming. I can’t really pinpoint the exact date, but trust me when I say, it’s been stewing in my brain for quite a while. Thoughts of uncertainty danced with notions of self-doubt. All that jazz.

As it goes, it started out rather normally. I’ve been at the point where I wanted to just pop the questions already. I went through a number of opportunities too! Man, my thoughts were touching the sky and stretching the walls. In the five days that we have been here in Trinidad, I’ve thought about proposing on maybe seven different occasions. Mountaintops, hilltops, wake-up surprises and radio station shout-outs were a few of the ideas that raced through my mind.

My original plan was to do…something.

Yeah. I didn’t really have much of a plan. I had a whole playlist/mixtape set up, but I didn’t even know when I was going to use it. I was going into this thing with my finger on the safety, waiting for the right moment.

By the way, if you don’t know me, know that I LOVE surprises. Even moreso, I love surprises that are executed well. So this was rather important for me.

Waking up from a night at the Cara Suites in St. Margaret’s, I had a chat with my dad on the balcony of our room. He had been asking me for the past few days what my plan was. After revealing to him the enjoyable fact that I didn’t really have a plan, he asked me the question that seems to encourage many delayed adolescents into action.

“What are you waiting for?”

Hmm.

Of course I had to ask myself that questions a few different times. What I waiting for, really? Here we were, in a beautiful hotel, in beautiful weather, with a beautiful view, with a beautiful Woman of God, with a beautiful ring…what was I waiting for? Regis Philbin?

(Enter Grown Man Moment #571 of the year)

So. I decided, after praying with my father that I would do it today. Still not sure how, but I knew that we wouldn’t be leaving the hotel as boyfriend and girlfriend again.

After retrieving Brittney from her room down the hall, we went to breakfast (after a quick little prank from my dad), feasting on scrambled eggs, fresh coconut bake, corned beef hash with hot tea and orange juice. We made some small talk at the table, but my mind was racing at a speed that made the Indy 500 look like a neighborhood relay race. And the same question kept popping up, the one that had been echoing for a while now.

God, is this what you want me to do? Father, is this Your plan?

It would seem that he answered, because after we ate, we relocated to the outside pool/patio for a video recap on our vacation thus far. This was the part that I orchestrated with my dad. Then I seized my moment.

And there was a .948594 second window where I conversed with myself. Like, a serious conversation.

“Nick! Doitnowdoitnowdoitnow…!”

“Wait…should I? This may not be the moment…I don’t want to mess it up!”

“Fair enough. Is she beautiful?”

“Yeah…”

“Does she love you?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she love God more?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready to keep this thing moving?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

“Doitnowdoitnowdoitnow!”

“But what if…?”

“DO. IT. NOW.”

And I did.
...

There was no selection from the band. Skittles didn’t spill from the sky, and Bob Barker didn’t escort us out of the hotel, although the wonderful (Trini) staff did treat us to some cake.

However, as we continued traveling through the land of my heritage, visiting family and friends from the pages of my family’s past, I felt a comfort. Maybe it was the sapodilla we had yesterday, or the cool breeze that soothed the mosquito bites I had been dealing with since day 1…

Brittney called my attention to the rainbow that cascaded over the Caribbean sky.

Something about everlasting promises, covenants and reminders comes to mind.

…my God is pretty awesome.

Hi. I'm Back.

2011-07-23T10:08:00.002-09:30

I guess it would take a near death experience to get me back in the groove of writing again*.

2011 has been a truly interesting year for me so far. A lot has taken place since the last time that I wrote on this blog, something that I’ve told myself time and time again that I wouldn’t allow to happen. I always thought that, as a writer, I would be able to keep up with my life’s pace. I assumed that my real like-writing ratio would always be even. In typical fashion, God totally broke that mentality. He’s funny that way; whenever I try to manipulate what he has granted me with to fit my schedule of inspiration, He hits the button to throw it all in disarray (read: His will).

Note that I haven’t really written anything, like REALLY written anything since November. And a lot has gone down.

Let’s see, where to start?

I got the chance to meet and hear a living legend, the graceful Nikki Giovanni. She spoke at Randolph College in Lynchburg, VA. After she spoke and I had the opportunity to say something to her…I asked for a hug. DJM.
I’ve learned a lot about manhood. Now, this doesn’t mean that I know what it’s all about. But I’ve learned a lot. I noticed that there are a lot of boys calling themselves men. There are a lot of hurt women who want to love boys into being men. I’ve learned that boys and men cannot live under the same roof if no one will be honest with themselves and know which they are.
Music is beyond important to me. It’s vital to my existence. So much so, that I’ve become something like a pseudo-elitist. Everyone may be listening to song/style of the month, an artist may win Grammys and awards and get kudos from self-acclaimed professionals and legends, and I would generally shrug them off. No joke, I cannot for the life of me figure out why Jerimih is more known than Darien Brockington, or what is so appealing about planking (#random). With that being said, here are some artists that I've discovered/grown in appreciation of in the past few months:

Propaganda and the Humble Beast camp.
The Foreign Exchange
Jeanne Jolly
Zo!

Phonte was speaking gospel when he said that love is hard. It truly is. I used to want it to be easy, and a part of me still does. And it will get there one day. But as for now, it’s going to take work. A lot of work. And a lot of sacrifice. Note that I put sacrifice in bold letters. More on that later (maybe. I hope). But because love takes work…
I decided that I want to put in the work. God created so many beautiful things, and I believe that Love is at the top of that list. Because of that, I decided that I want to pursue that. I want to experience a growth in love, an ascension to the heights that it was created for. And I want to experience this with HER. So…as of June 9^th, 2011, I proposed to my love and future wife. Fear – 0, Love – 1.
I probably should have thrown this further up the list, but I love my culture. My entire family is from the beautiful isle of Trinidad; I am the first of my bloodline to be born in the United States, a fact that I am slightly ashamed of. Slightly. I love where I’m from, and I was fortunate enough to spend two weeks there this year. Man. I ended up with a pretty bad allergic reaction to some fruit down there, but I also ended up with a fiancé (or is that fiancée? I can’t remember.).
In the past three years, I’ve lived in three different situations, all with roommates. Each situation was different from the last, but this past year has shown me many things about myself, and not many of them were positive. With that being said, I shall be finally moving into my own apartment in a few days. MY OWN apartment. As in Mine. As in no one else living there but me. As in my own dishes, my own drawls, my own stank, MINE. Praise baby Jesus.
A few weeks ago, I stood a few feet away from my best friend as he crossed the Great Divide from boy to man and got married. Disclosure: I almost cried. I really did. Between the two of us, I believe that I am probably the more emotional one, but it was incredibly significant to me. I’ve pretty much grown up with this man, and we have shared a lot together. From our church’s VBS to the discovery of Terry Tate and Chappelle’s Show, he’s been around for a lot of it. I couldn’t deny a feeling of a bittersweet joy. As we (him, his new wife, the bridal party and friends and family) danced to Rob Base’s classic party jam, I realized that things would never be the same. He was her husband, a role that was righteously more important than our friendship. I wasn’t sad; changes may come, but he was and is my man, one hunnid grand. But it cemented a fact that I wanted to run from for a few years now; we were growing up, miles away from where we were. And in a few months, I’ll be making that same move.
I am almost 24-hours fresh off the plane from Nicaragua. My very first missions trip to the Central American country with Third Option Men, Beautiful Feet and Adventures in Missions has taken me into places that I never would have imagined I would have been. From literal mountain tops to literalvalleys to literal waterfalls to literal near-death experiences, this has made the Summer of 2011 one of, if not the best summer of my life. A post to truly talk about it in depth shall come very soon, because it’s that serious.
My master’s degree cannot come soon enough. Ironically, it also cannot come without any stress. Be that as it may, I’m ready to be done with sitting behind desk and putting the past few years to work in a relevant way.

So here’s to hoping that I don’t lose my steam. I need to write. Like I told a fellow writer in Nicaragua, the feeling I have now is similar to when you have to use the bathroom really, really, really bad, and finally being able to find a restroom.

Ah, sweet release.

*I was serious about that near-death experience thing. I'll write more about that later.

The Reason I Sing

2011-07-23T08:36:00.000-09:30

If I

Wrapped my words in gold silk

Spit that real, hard core ilk

Draped each consonant in jewels and rubies, diamonds and pearls

Spoke real enough for the fellas, but smooth enough for the girls

Got my sentences all dressed up and took off the blues

Put on their good clothes and their two-stepping shoes

Would they like me more?

If I achieved platinum status

Resurrected TRL’s mania

Brought home the chops, the hocks in addition to all the bacon

Sold albums and spoke on stages from Bangladesh to Bangkok

Awaken the spirit of David and Hughes, never taking a pit stop

Took a seat on Oprah’s couch

On the account of running my mouth

I wonder

To who’s name would they sing their praises?

Make my mouth speak your words, oh Lord

Because while the wiles of this world

Can take my rhymes and lower their worth

I take my time and put you first

Take my cool and make it burn

So Your love and grace can truly work…

Cuz even accolades someday will fade away

Oh just like me

Yes everything but You, yeah

And many years from now, it won’t matter

How I write the rhymes I do, yeah

Help me get back to the reason I sing for you

All I have in this world are the words that I speak

Words you have given me

All the performance tricks and slam poetic tactics

Tricks of the trade from thee.

Even as they tickle the ears of the critics

and win slam scores

How am I to separate them

from their true author?

In your eyes,

I am your child,

Still learning the alphabet you have given me.

Every sigh and rise, every term and rhyme,

each drop of spit, each line…

And even though they love

My alliteration,

symbolism,

analogies and flows

diction,

inflection

wordplay and prose…

My job is only to serve as a mirror.

Though I speak with emotion, focus on tones with locomotion

Firm like stones and boulders, and moving like the ocean

My words are made

To sing your praise…

Created and formed

To bring you glory

Cuz even accolades someday will fade away

Oh just like me

Yes everything but You, yeah

And many years from now, it won’t matter

How I write the rhymes I do, yeah

Help me get back to the reason I sing for you

Why are we so convinced

a bigger audience

is simply common sense to have?

Why does it seem

That the theme of achievement

Can so easily deceive us

Into believing

That He even

Needs us?

Maybe success

is measured best

by nothing less

than our obedience...

so Father,

help me find you, even if I speak to an anthill

let The audience of One bring my heart thrills

let my soul tremble with the bass, and let me relish in the taste

of your words coming out of my mouth

help me Father…

Help me get back to the reason I sing for you.

...gone since November...

2011-02-27T16:12:00.000-09:30

Too busy.

Too much.

Too long.

So long? Nah.

Just...bear with me.

Randomoscity (stoled from Don)

2010-11-17T06:06:00.000-09:30

(snatched ever so thankfully from Don @ Minus The Bars...)

5 famous people you'd like to meet.

Spike Lee
Paul Lawrence Dunbar
Jerry Seinfeld
Jill Scott
Nikki Giovanni

5 books that affected your life.

BumRush The Page - Def Poetry Jam Anthology
Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler
Wild at Heart - John Eldridge
The Eyes of Kid Midas - Neal Shusterman
Lamb - Christopher Moore

5 favorite movies.

Brown Sugar
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
Aladdin
A Goofy Movie
City of God

5 addictions.

Chewy Lemon Heads
writing for the Father
art that transcends
Facebook/Blogging
___________.

5 things that turn you On (at the moment...)

a nurturing woman
a passionate woman
a smart woman
a Godly woman
a funny woman

5 things that turn you completely Off (at the moment...)

an ignorant woman
a stupid woman
a bland, blank woman
a conceited woman
a lying woman

...

2010-11-04T19:07:00.000-09:30

I think I know what I want to do with my life. I think I know what I want to look like, where I want to be, who I want to be, what I want to be known for, what I'm like. I'm really close to know what all of that is. Close enough to know what color is it. Close enough to smell it, feel it, taste it. It's there. It's close enough to call it Me.

But I'm not there yet.

I have to keep trying, right? I have to keep testing things, pushing buttons, risking failure and misinterpretation and mistakes to get there right? And if this is the case, isn't it worth the risk of being call discontent?

Should I stop trying to get there? Or should just learn to live with where/who I am?

When do I stop trying to get there? Do I get comfortable with the process instead of the destination?

Unorganized Babbling: Fall Edition

2010-11-01T07:44:00.000-09:30

It seems that all I have these days are busy thoughts. I'm not entirely sure of where my thoughts are coming from or where they're going. They're just busy as heck. Buzzing, swarming, flying all around me. They tend to have themes of discontentment, but I'm not even entirely sure if that's what the deal really is. I just generally feel that there is more that I want. I've been comparing my life right now to where it used to be. A few years ago, I was a completely different person. I had less hair, no car, no realistic (read: healthy) romantic options, but a wildly diverse social circle. Cool with the skater punks, ball players, emo kids and worship majors, I had the opportunity to dip into a variety of experiences and perspectives. Not the same story these days...and I miss it...
...yet at the same time, I truly love being alone sometimes. Most of the time, actually. There are times where I prefer it. And I admit, a hefty amount of my desire for solitude comes from a learned behavior to protect myself from the possibility of disappointing those around me. Either way, after looking at my life, I have never not had some kind of influence around me. From my parent's house to now, there has almost always generally been some external factor, playing a part in my day-to-day. And I'm starting to tire. It's truly annoying to want to live life a certain way, when those whom you're sharing a roof with are not on the same page. Dirty dishes and Glade Plug-Ins don't mix. Carpet cleanings and weekly party schedules can't live comfortably. It's time for me to transition so I can hear myself more clearly. Especially for the plans that I have...
Willow Smith is such a little cutie. I actually wanted to hate on that video SO bad. But seriously. And if anyone can't appreciate it, I say to them: grow up a little. Just be a kid for once, dangit. ::whipshairbackandforth::
I would love to be a starving artist...minus the starving part. Seriously, I can truly see myself living an avant-garde type lifestyle. Waking up whenever in the same clothes I wore yesterday, just to create some new daring poem/photo journal/____, smelling like rich cologne and fruit punch. I would live for art and art alone, casting no cares to money or other worldly possession (other than my iPod of course). However...I have bills to pay now. Unless I can run away to another country, change my name, and disregard this life, it's hard to see how I can do it. I would love to do both though. Present pieces in art galleries after my 9 to 5 as a guidance counselor. Visit Paris on the weekend. Photograph and publish my own book...of pictures. Spend an entire summer touring the country with other artsy eccentrics, surviving solely on our earnings from open mics, spoken word slam wins and some random generous strangers.
Speaking of which, I opened a tumblr account called Date of Dunbar. Partly out of boredom, but mostly because I wanted an avenue for exclusive artistic expression. If blogging were coitus, my tumblr would be a quickie.
Seriously. Why are men generally so anxious/apprehensive/cautious/scurred about marriage, compared to most women? I need thought-provoking dialogue on this one.
Whoever is in the mood for a really good scary movie, check out Quarantine. Not much in originality, but I was shook for a good minute. Fo'realz.

The Cool

2010-10-08T10:32:00.000-09:30

The Cool

Spits swag and sneezes smoove. Seemingly effortless in social interactions. Brings the party with him wherever he goes. A constant rotation of activity and unmentionables in his chambers. Knows what the girls like. Soulja Boy Tell 'Em. Eats without having to work. Works without having to sweat. Sweats without having to stink. He is dominant almost everything but, but is allergic to humble pie. Oozing charisma, with a cheek-to-cheek grin. He is the Roc Boy, the alpha male in the pack, and he only concerns himself with those of the same ilk. But don't get it confused, if the need arises, he shall remind all that he is Sir HNIC. He dwells on the surface level. Secretly tormented by his lifestyle. He has insecurities, but uses them as a quilt to protect him from becoming ever facing The Real. However, there is no room for the The Cool and The Real to coexist in the same arena. The only Real that matters is The Cool's Real.

Cool

Inhales and exhales patience and humility. Struggles constantly to maintain a sense balance. Makes the battle between good and bad seem somewhat honorable. Allows his passions to guide his interactions. Common. Works so he can eat. Sweats so he can work. Sweats without having to stink. Knows his strengths and limitations, and uses both for personal edification. Confident without being cocky. Knows what his woman wants. Dedicated to a belief, a cause, a standard bigger than himself. Concerns himself with the needs of others. But don't get it confused, if the need arises, he will be reminded that he is a Man. He digs deeper past the surface. Is aware of his sins, and constantly works to move past, through, over and past it. He has insecurities, but what Man doesn't? There is one Real, and it isn't his.

The Love Experience [Part 3]: Who?

2010-09-02T08:05:00.000-09:30

I think that it's really easy to get desensitized from a lot of things. Even if I tried to make sense of it, it would still come across rather stifled and confusing. My attempts at putting it into words may fall short...

Some of us truly think that there isn't anything severely wrong with the world that we live in. Outside of our neat little boxes, our thought processes aren't adventurous enough to ask those questions, or take a serious look at some of those things. Either we really don't think its that serious, or we'd rather not immerse ourselves in the just-plain-suckyness of the situation at large.

I am beyond guilty for all of this.

Today, I awoke to the sound of my $250-$300 iPod Touch and my $200 Samsung-Android Powered phone, both the latest in their respective technologies. I rolled out of my plush full sized mattress, past my $600 laptop, with thousands of dollars worth of software, updates, files, photos and music. I shivered, because I was standing directly under the vent, where my air conditioning blew cold air on me. I stumbled into my shower, where I adjusted the water to a comfortable warmth, but not before letting a couple quarts flow freely as I used the bathroom (toilet), flushed, brushed my teeth, then showered, all in a brightly lit bathroom.

In the first thirty minutes of my consciousness today, I've already interacted with hundreds, if not thousands of dollars.

And not five minutes after did I complain to myself about how I need to make more money. Or how I don't have enough money.

I didn't even talk about the two Playstation consoles that I own. Or the games that accompany them. Or my camera. Or the car that I drive. Or the three-bedroom apartment that I live in. Or the HDTV sitting in my living room. Or the hundreds of CD's that I own.

We are surrounded by a wealthy contradiction. And maybe my scope on it is skewed. After all, I am a professional college student; after doing it for going-on 6 years, I'm pretty good at it. However, isn't it strange how much we spend, waste, accumulate, all without giving thought or regard to those who are lesser fortunate/blessed?

I won't even venture outside of U.S. borders with this one. Turn on your television at 3am, and you'll have enough conviction there to almost make you cry. No, I'm going to stay inside of our borders.

We have people in our own backyards (almost literally) struggling. People in our church, our schools, our jobs, our families, struggling. They can't eat. They have to decide on whether they use the last $5 in the pocket to for their gas tank, or eating a meal.

There are hearts aching all around us. Some of us are in our comfort zones, tightly so. We have a symphony of peers and friends around us, willing to listen and lend a helping hand. Others struggle with some real stuff (recognize the euphemism). Depression and suicide. Low self-esteem and serious father/mother/parenting issues. Am I good enough mother? Father? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Brother? Friend?

Think about it. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Seriously. Before you continue reading, thinking about it.

How can we really think that love exists in sight of all this un/intentional apathy?

Does love exists? With all our gadgets and friend requests and fantasy leagues and new mixtapes and hot celebrity gossip, does that equate love and beauty? Am I heretic for living in it, but hating it?

I strongly believe that there is a beauty that exists in this life, but that doesn't mean that I don't know it's hard to get to.

In 6 days, the end result was that "it is good".

And about 2,000 years ago, it got started, because "it (was) finished".

Billions of people on this earth; why should anyone live it alone? Smiles and laughter and hugs and music and harmony; why should anyone be exempt from this?

What would it take to show that someone cares? What would it take to show that love is real? What would it take to make an impact, leave an impression, touch someone's heart?

More than the mission of various non-profit organizations or charities. Where can this...love come from?

Or...Who?

The Man-strual Cycle

2010-08-30T20:15:00.000-09:30

First of all, let me just state that this post was conceived after some...situashuns. The only disclaimer I offer is that I totally understand, respect and revere the unique plight/treasure of womanhood.

But! I've noticed somethings. A woman on her monthly is usually known for a number of unpleasant characteristics. Why? Basically, hormones are going bonkers. Off the charts. Making absolutely no sense to anyone with the opposite chromosome.

The thing is, I've experienced another phenomenon. This phenomenon usually has some of the symptoms of its former. Just as how women go through that time in the month, I've learned that the same irrationality and just-plain-nonsenseness happens to men. Maybe not all men, and not in the same way, but it happens nonetheless. And I speak on this, because I have experienced these symptoms firsthand.

That's right. I'll be the first to admit that I've been going through my own Manstrual Cycle. Once again, not your typical monthly cycle. Patience becomes shorter. Tolerance becomes limited. Prone to odd flashes of sensitivity and simultaneous violence.

In short? An odd, out of control urge for lovin'.

I mean, it seems like it comes out of nowhere, but it hits with a whammy. You hold your girl extra tight, because your bed seems extra cold at night. If you're listening to your iPod and Trey Songz starts whining about familiarity with his neighbors, your imagination takes a field trip. If you're in a relationship, you start glaring at your single roommates as he gets dressed up for what will probably be a fun-filled, free-willed Friday night. If you're not in a relationship, you are glaring at your happily dating roommate (as he cuddles closer to his lady), as your barricade inside of your room, watching another episode of Scrubs.

It'd be one thing if it were a regular hunger for chocolate or buffalo wings or something with an easy, quick, relatively consequence-less fix.

No.

This is lust, an appetite for the woman-kind. Stacey Dash and Scarlett Johansson's altar. The Land of Sweet Mocha Skin and Thick Lips, Inviting Eyes and Generous Waistlines.

And, as a student in the school of purity, this is a heavy battle to fight. It's not the Grand Sin and it won't toss you and your naughty little mind into a sea of fire and anti-aphrodisiacs. But like I said, it is a battle. It's directly connected to a part of us that is biological, but not necessarily logical. As a believer, our sexual purity is one of the many gifts that God has given us. Not the easiest to manage, but incredibly important. Designed with beauty and passion, sex is one of those things that humanity with continue to dance a dance of over- or underrating.

And during the Manstrual Cycle? The urge to throw all that purity mumbo-jumbo out the window in exchange for some good ole fashioned hanky-panky increases tenfold.

Oh, you think you're fine for a few days. A hug here, kiss there. Everything is still under control.

Then all of a sudden, you're fussy and you don't know why.

Yeah. The freaks don't only come out at night. For 5-14 days at a time, living this life in purity becomes even harder.

First off, this feverish hunger isn't your typical. The smallest struggles tend to expand by ridiculous rates.
However, that support system of other individuals in their Manstrual Cycle is VERY important.
Know that distractions do exist.

I'm not going to use this blog as an opportunity to start talking about my sexual health/activities/escapades/adventures. BUT, I will say that in what little I know, something very strange happens to me. I'm already a basketcase for most of the year already.

It is my theory that the Manstrual Cycle is a phenomenon for those of the purity ilk, those men who are trying to keep their hands to themselves (or away from?) and maintain Covenant Eyes. It'd be easy to just go buckwild and not care. The simple solution would be to just "get it out of your system" and sow oats like J. Appleseed did, right? Well, imagine fighting that urge constantly. Imagine a struggle to strive for a deeper definition of intimacy instead of luring her with that failsafe "Meeting In My Bedroom" playlist.

The Manstrual Cycle is something serious. I may not leak bodily fluids or drop eggs and whatnot, but for a certain bit of time a month, my actions may be slightly erratic. I may make lesser sense than usual. But I usually get over it.

But not by myself. I used to think I could. But a community of prayed-up fellows helps. "When two or more are gathered...", right?

A couple push-ups and the Die Hard movies aren't a bad idea either.

Just don't play this song any where near me. Things could get ugly.

If you or any man you know suffer with The Manstrual Cycle, please, find help. There is strength in numbers. Join the resistance.

At least until your wedding night. Then you're on your own. But you're probably looking forward to that.

Monster?...

2010-08-30T17:05:00.001-09:30

So, since I'm trying to get back in my groove of writing, I thought I'd take the opportunity and speak out and sound off on something.

A few weeks ago, after returning to VA to continue my pursuit of my Masters in Professional Counseling, me and m'lady's family gathered to eat together at a local buffet spot. General chillness and fatty fat groans were heard and enjoyed all around. As we finished, we stepped outside and chit-chatted a little. We sang some songs, I performed a piece, and then...we started to talk about music.

More specifically, we started to talk about hip-hop. The lightening rod?

Everyone's favorite, Mr. Kanye West.

His single, "Power" had just released an accompanied music video.

After seeing it, I was rather disturbed. And I'm pretty sure that none of the adults there had seen the video. Either way, the parents had an interesting scope on Mr. West. My dad was less than amused about Kanye's antics that had everyone's attention for a while. We spoke for a good bit about what he may have been going through, the direction that his music has been going, from "The College Dropout" to "Graduation" (I'm purposely excluding "808s and Heartbreak" because it doesn't count as a Kanye album to me...imo). I tried to present the perspective of his emotional state after losing his mom, the end of his relationship, etc. We ended speaking more about the need for today's artists to exercise a healthy dose of professional accountability. They may be human, no more privy to the mayhem and emotions of life than you or I, but they are in an amazing place of influence and should hold that responsibility with reverence.

That brings me to the purpose of this post.

I just heard the new song, "Monster".

Has anyone seen Jay-Z's music video for "On To Next One"? If you have, can remember the eerie feeling you felt when you saw all those questionable, random images pop-up? Well, that's kinda how I felt with this song.

(First of all, is this even Kanye's song? In my opinion, once again, Nicki Minaj KILT this song in such a way, I seriously think that this is her song. I mean, seriously. Rick Ross was random, Jay sounded dark and evul as all getout, 'Ye was *meh*, but Nicki? I don't even like her like that.)

I'm all for artistic expression. But some things need to have some for of accountability, some sort of responsibility, some kind of "Hey, maybe this isn't such a great idea. This might do more damage than good."

Seriously. I've heard enough metaphors about being a beast, martian, extra-terrestrial, sick-wit-it, et cetera. But an entire song dedicated to every metaphorical aspect of a monstrosity? How much until it stops being art?

I thought to myself:

What will the music video look like? "Power" was creepy enough.
Music is supposed to uplift isn't it? Even through the muck of the worst of what you may be feeling, shouldn't some part of it encourage, inspire, speak life? Let us not forget the root of the word...
What is Kanye going through? Me and Spoken.Word were talking about Kanye's lyrical content and the changes its gone through. We agreed that it hasn't necessarily grown, just...changed. Like Snoop Dogg's face over the years. (Seriously. How does he look 50 years older in the span of 15 years, but Stacey Dash looks as young as me?)
What in the firey heck is up with Minaj's voice/multiple personality disorder?

The response will probably be something like, "It's just music." Please. Saying it's just music is like saying SARS was/is just a case of the sniffles.

The song is straight up and down creepy.

And I wish that the bars were crap. I wish they were wack, not creative, dry and healthy (you know, opposite of sick?). But they weren't that bad. The production was tight. Roster was tight. And even though Nicki bested everyone else on the track, the lyrics were (questionable, but) dope.

I guess I'm coming from the angle that one weak-willed kid who knows no better. I'm wondering how much work is being done to actually add life and beauty to the airwaves. Songs like this, after they earn acclaim, don't help. There will be rallies about this song (I'm calling it now.) and anti-hip-hop speeches all over. Talks about demonic advocacy and "Satan's Music". It makes me sad to see my music set itself up like this.

What say ye? Is this track just another exhibit in fierce and imaginative lyricism? Or is it something to worry about? Is it both? Neither?

Posts For You, Truths For Me

2010-08-25T08:31:00.000-09:30

I haven't written in a long time.

Mentally, emotionally, physically, vocationally, I've gone to quite a few places, reopened some old wounds/doors, created some new ones. If my current emotion in life would sound like anything, it'd be like Eminem's newest album, "Recovery" meets J. Cole's "The Warm-Up". I'm preparing, yet in-transition. Moving up and towards something bigger, better, fuller in my life. From boy to man, student to teacher, black to Trini-American, lover to beloved, all the while, still being me.

The question being, how do I scribe all of this? Do I even want to?

I've had to question that. What's point of me writing? What if I don't get props? If I don't get recognition? If I never sell another copy of my book? What if no one likes what I have to write/say?

God gave ME this gift. While there are many other people who can write the way, and have chiseled out a comfortable niche that allows them to be complete, I have the same. Be it a notepad, a blog site or a status on Facebook, for some reason, My God saw fit to give me zen with the pen, a gift of gab grown up.

In this constant dichotomy of me, I'm learning that there needs to be a balance. And I know I'm not the only one. I also know that even to those closest to me still have a ways to go before truly learning anything about me. I'm writing for them, THEM, and Them.

I believe that someone can learn from my words, my experiences, my diction, my scattered logic and immature sense of humor. I feel that I can use the lemons and oranges and cherries from my life to brew a tropical punch for someone else, to modify a popular say-so.

WIth that being said...let the shenanigans continue!

M.I.A. Pt. 2

2010-07-27T05:16:00.000-09:30

M.I.A.

2010-07-19T17:54:00.000-09:30

Summer 2010 has already started.

Other than lesson plans, I haven't written a lick.

My life is currently something like a drama/comedy/documentary.

I'll be back when I have the time to actually speak on all that's been swimming in my head.

Summer Wants/Needs

2010-06-03T13:58:00.000-09:30

Wants

to feel/be treated like a Man
to attend at least 10 concerts/live performances
to live life without domestication, un-wasted
to cook for my family
to reunite with my elementary school's graduating Class of 2000
to lose some weight, in an Insane way.
to effect some lives and change the future
to make up for the lack of writing I've been doing lately
to show my dad that he's been right/wrong all this time

Needs

to learn how to be a better Man of God
to celebrate Good Music
to create
to prioritize
to show my dad that he's been right/wrong all this time

My Review of Little Brother's LeftBack

2010-04-21T17:24:00.001-09:30

So, me and Little Brother have a relatively new relationship. I wish I knew about them when they first came out. Unfortunately, those days, I was more into Will Smith and N'Sync (DJM...)

But, since I first got on the LB train, I've been riding and enjoying the trip. Little Brother has come to represent what is right in Hip-Hop these days. In the days of "All The Way Turnt Up", LB shines bright like a prism. It seems, however, that this is the last stop. Time for me to gather my travel pillow and continue exploring. LeftBack is Little Brother's last album, and as bittersweet as that is, I'm going to try and conduct my first album review.

(I won't say how I managed to be able to listen to this. All I'll say is...times is hard.)

1. Curtain Call - The first released single for this album, I hopped on it with the quickness. For me, this song defines bittersweet. 'Te and Pooh both briefly summarize their LB journey on a track produced by Khrysis. 'Te spits with his signature 'real talk', while I thought that Pooh was in rare form. He usually gets overshadowed by Phonte's lyrical prowess, but I think Pooh really cleared his throat on this jam. Definitely a fave.

2. Table for Two - A relationship song, I personally enjoyed Yahzarah's hook. Jozeemo's verse was a nice surprise, kinda like the non-trap star's Jeezy. This song was the album's "Baby-I-don't-wanna-fight-no-mo'" jam. Not that bad - I'd like to see a video for this one. The concept should be BET/MTV friendly enough to be fleshed out. As usual, 'Te's sense of humor comes through for realz. "Ya'll take a check?"

3. Tigallo for Dolo - I'm totally feeling the bass on this one. I wanna ride around town with the windows down, etc. Incredibly honest, Phonte comes through by himself, sounding off on a couple of issues. And when I say honest, I mean, that I have rarely heard emcees render themselves so bare with such artistic self-disclosure. This isn't a confessional, just a real individual, spitting real talk. Nuff said.

4. Revenge - Honestly speaking, with a title like Revenge, I was expecting either 'Te to completely spaz out on this. Pooh did pretty good, but *Kayneshrug*. Maybe this beat should've been given to Meth and Red or someone with that gritty feel. It's not a bad song...but I was expecting more. The set-up was there...Ah! This song feels like it should've been on a mixtape. The two featured verses? Not really necessary for this album.

5. So Cold - HOJ-mate Chaundon comes through for a visit on this track, and I actually like his flow. He's rocked with LB before, so he's no stranger. The beat had me feeling real chill-like, which isn't a bad thing. This'll sound bad, but...I liked Chaundon's verse the most. "Bring it to ya chest/Now you all Lil' Weezy..."

6. Second Chances - Off the first beat, I liked this song. When Bilal started singing...my expectations changed. Not really for the worst. Another relationship song, I don't totally dislike it...I just really wish Bilal wasn't on it. D-Brock saved it, in my opinion.

7. Go Off Go On - Pooh goes in! OMG, I feel so happy to hear this man do WORK, compared to other, more recent LB songs. Phonte, meanwhile, seems to be coasting. He didn't do bad, but I've heard him dish considerable heat on other joints. This is, however, another one of those songs that seems to have been more suited for a mixtape than an album release.

8. What We Are - Ooh. This is the "side-jawn" track. Pooh really comes through on this track. Like...I imagine it to be that moment when your son comes home with an A+...you knew he could do it! The only awkwardness is that I can't 100% relate to it...but I feel it, all the same.

9. After the Party (rmx) - I personally am not a fan of folk re-releasing songs from previous albums on completely new albums. I figure, if you're dropping a whole new album, why not complete it with some brand new jams? I heart this song from GetBack...and I'm feeling the new production. But the original will always be the original...try listening to Akon's Wanna Be Starting Something. No go.

10. Two Step Blues (rmx) - See Above.

11. Get Enough Pt. 2 - It was this song that made me realize that the Little Brother of yore was gone. Farewell to "The Listening", because this sound was vastly different. In any event, hearing Khrysis on the mic was an interesting listen. That's about all I can say about this one.

12. Before the Night is Over - A smooth joint, I'm really feeling this one. Probably one of the few that make sense to be on this album. This actually feels like it belongs. The sound is more Foreign Exchange than Little Brother...

13. 24 - The beat KNOCKS...this dude Torae does work. As does 'Te. As does Pooh. A thorough track, this one is a keeper.

14. Star - The Haymaker, this track wasn't even supposed to see the light of day. So I'm not going to talk about it. I won't even supply a link. I will say that this is the last time that 9th Wonder was with Pooh and Phontigga...maybe forever.

All in all...LB fans will bump it, regardless if it sucked or not. Fortunately, it doesn't suck. But...I found myself hoping for a "The Black Album"-esque bow out. Some songs didn't seem to fit at all...it ended up feeling like a collection of unreleased tracks and Saturday night freestyles. I was hoping and wishing for something like another "The Minstrel Show". The thing is...this is not it, and they are not the old Little Brother we first heard. Phonte is working with The Foreign Exchange and more endeavors of grown folk music; Pooh is working his solo dolo muscle. As far as this album...I would get it, simply because...this is it.

Standout Tracks:
Curtain Call
Tigallo for Dolo
Go Off Go On
24
Star

R.I.P. Keith "Guru" Elam

2010-04-20T15:35:00.000-09:30

1/2 of GangStarr

Gifted Unlimited, Rhymes Universal

(July 17, 1966 – April 19, 2010)

Women to Avoid (The Complimentary List)

2010-04-19T18:04:00.000-09:30

- Nikki Minaj/Barbie

The thing with Ms. Minaj is, I strongly believe she’s crazy. Yeah, she’s got a bad body. And she’s got bars for days. (I’ve actually had many conversations with some friends, talking about how Nikki is accomplishing what Lil’ Kim may/should have been trying to accomplish. Facial antics included.) That being said, there are some beautiful, amazing, women out there…and some of them have a number of personalities that pop up that the weirdest times. One minute, they have you walking around saying “My Chick Bad”, and the next, “My Chick Outta Her Freakin’ Mind”. This woman doesn’t even have to be at the extreme of being diagnosed with clinical schizophrenia. It generally has to do with an utter lack of consistency. She likes you and lavishes you with attention, then she doesn’t. She’s dainty and sensitive; all of a sudden, she’s more like UFC fighter than model, and not in a good way. Most women are generally baffling to men; this woman is certifiably confusing to others (and herself). Stay clear, because chances are you’ll end up with more than a headache.

- Snookie

This kind of woman has a dangerous tendency to be over-obsessed with her looks. Now, a little make-up isn’t a bad thing, especially when it compliments her natural beauty. To some women, it is an outlet of creativity and individuality. But…there are those women who spend WAY too much time focusing on the right skinny jeans and the most fly hairstyle instead of their job/classes/responsibilities. When you encounter a woman who is way too concerned with the external and regards the internal with a question mark, this should be cause for concern. This is more than being confident; she should be able to do something with all that confidence. Hear me; I am a full-on advocate of some blush and lip gloss…but she doesn’t even know what she wants out of life and starts a chant of “help me, save me”, you should probably head for the door.

- Lil’ Mama

I shouldn’t even call her a woman, because at times, she would resemble more of a lil’ – I mean, little girl. We all saw what Lil’ Mama did at the VMAs. Everyone was chilling, enjoying what is sure to be NYC’s new anthem. Jay and Alicia Keys were wrapping it up, throwing it down in a real way. The vibe was right, everyone was in a great mood…then here comes Lil’ Mama. Not Nas. Not the Mayor of New York City. Not the entire Yankees roster. Not anyone who would make sense. Lil’-freakin’-Mama. This woman? It’ll almost seem like she’s intentionally trying to bum rush her way into a chill scene, just to start some mess. The focus has to be on her, or else she’ll start feeling insecure and all that mess. Know that everyone has their set of baggage. But when that baggage starts frequently cramping everyone else's style, it’s a problem. No one likes a blatant attention seeker. Especially if she can’t be classy with it.

- Oprah

We are in a new era of Man-Woman relations. We’ve come a long way from not even allowing women to vote, or work in certain positions. The thing is, and as a Christian, this is my own personal conviction, men have a certain standard of respect and self-respect that cannot be broken or challenged, something that inherently felt. I’ve heard more than one man say in more than a few ways that he could deal with quite a few things, but once disrespected, something unspoken is shattered, almost irreparable. It has been psychologically assessed that just as women have the need to feel treasured and loved, men need to be respected. With that said, she could be bringing home the bacon and the steak, with enough left over for some chicken. However, if the man is not recognized as the leader of the relationship/family, something is severely wrong. She is not better than him, he is not better than her; they need each other to make it work – but if she doesn’t respect him, he’ll struggle to show love (and thus the cycle begins…). And if that’s the case, how can they truly interact with each other as adults?

- Lauryn Hill (Post-Miseducation)

I personally feel that this is the most dangerous woman to get seriously involved with, moreso because if she is beautiful, it can distract us men from what is truly important. Once again, as a Christian, this is of the utmost importance to me. If a woman cannot connect with, or speak to you eye to eye on a deeper, meatier level, she is quite frankly not worth the time. I’m not even talking about the capacity to speak with intelligence. Mental depth should be a given when speaking about a Woman. I’m talking about a woman who cannot talk with spiritual clarity, a woman who does not have a direct, intimate relationship with her God. I’ve heard it said before that a woman’s heart must be hidden in God in order for a man to find her. I echo that sentiment. I would feel such conviction if I didn’t mention this, because without this foundation, I feel that everything is relatively shallow. Because of God’s relationship with His Bride/The Church, I believe that it is the blueprint for Man/Woman/Wife relationships. If, at the end of the day, no matter how many arguments or disagreements or slip-ups, if you both cannot arrive at the cross on bended knee, leave her. She is not worth compromising your relationship with Your Father.

- (Fake) Mother Teresa

As a part two, this particular woman causes me a whole lotta heartache. First, let me state that we are all fallen creatures. Busted and falling short each day, we are constant works in progress. However, this is not a pass. If we are saved, we are to constantly strive to daily redemption. With that out of the way, this woman is a charlatan. It’s one thing to struggle. It’s another to front as if you’ve got everything on lock. The whole double-life notion should scare you, because it is typically a sign of a lack of trust, or some deeper issue. Much like The Nikki Minaj, she switches up like Lynchburg weather. If she’s not the same woman on Tuesday as she is on Sunday, it’s time to start asking some questions. It’s also another problem if she has no humility about herself. Conviction is a sign of the struggle we have with sin; once that is gone, we start cooling off, becoming that dreaded lukewarm believer.

- Khia

Almost winning the title of the Most Annoying Woman, this woman is quite the thorn in many a side. She LOVES flapping her gums. She lives for gossip and other people’s business. I would compare her to The Snookie, but that may be giving her too much aesthetic credit, as The Snookie at least takes pride in her appearance. Recklessly popping off at the side of her neck, this woman has zero class. A t-shirt and sweatpants may be real cute in college, or if you’re just lounging on a Saturday. But if your boys are at the crib, and she strolls by in a (not cute) too-small tee and she hasn’t brushed her teeth yet, time to regulate. She might disguise it as “keeping it real” or being your “down chick”, but if she’s going to call herself a woman, there should be a standard of class. Think about it. How much of a fan of pointless gossip and foolish babble are you? How much silly chatter can you tolerate? Do you have a high capacity for ignorance? If you look up one day and realize that you don’t want this woman to meet your mother/family/friends for fear that she may embarrass the mess of you, then it may be time to sit her down and have that good ole chat with her.

February/March/April: Wants/Needs

2010-04-06T07:17:00.000-09:30

Wants:

A PS3 w/ God of War 1, 2 & 3
latenightlovin'...
A Never Ending Tank of Gas
A Consistantly Full Refridgerator
...to be a featured poet on SOMEBODY'S album (preferably The Roots or Lecrae)
iPhone (or just a whole new cell phone service plan)
An AWESOME photography lighting kit
All the New GREAT albums of 2010:

Little Brother - "LeftBack"
The Roots - "How I Got Over"
Sho Baraka - "Lions and Liars"
Nas & Damian Marley - "Distant Relatives"
The Foreign Exchange - (New Album, Fall 2010)

MORE. CONCERTS.

Needs:

...to buckle down and start saving some substantial money
...to start paying off my gargantuan loans
Connecting strongly with my younger siblings
Intimacy without violating standards
Good Vibes, Rhymes and Times
Showing my Father that I have been listening...

My Spring Break in ATL...

2010-03-20T09:10:00.000-09:30

More to come...

Unorganized Babbling.

2010-03-09T09:56:00.000-09:30

I honestly don't know why I don't do this more. Almost every blog that I've visited since I've start blogging has at least one post completely dedicated to disorganization and randomoscity. I'm a little embarrassed that I haven't done it before. At least not like this. I have no idea what's going to come out. I expect some disclosure. So if I end up going off on a tangent about Reese's and Little Brother's Final Album, don't judge me.

For the past few weeks, I've been in a really weird place, on quite a few fronts. I work for my campus' multicultural office (Center for Multicultural Enrichment), and I was recently given a hefty bit of responsibility, more than I had been used to. I've only been working there since October, so I figured that I needed more stripes before heading off an event that I basically fathered. The general consensus is that it was a great success, but man.oh.man. It was stress galore.

Tiffany Y (who performed "At Last" by Etta James)

Me (I hosted the event, tryna get fresh)

My sister, who helped me handle some technicalities and such...

Me, getting my tie straightened by m'lady - she also performed at night, reading an excerpt from Zora Neale Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God".

My main man, Chris B. who came down for the weekend from NJ. Dude's been my friend since kneehighs...check him over at ArtStar.

Us, once again. Lookin' fly, like Jedi do.

Center for Multicultural Enrichment Staff, Spring 2010 - Not everyone could make it, and they were mad that they weren't in this pic. Sorry kids.

All photos were taken by my man, Reggie L., the smoove cat in the middle with the suspenders. Check more of his stuff at his Flickr page.

The Book of Love has opened up yet another chapter for me, once again challenging everything I thought I knew or understood. A part of me doesn't even want to talk about it, because I know that something will come up to prove me wrong (or right, in the case of pessimism). Another part of me loves it, revels in it, and desires to dwell it. For example:

How can a man speak with love, yet act without it?
Is love simply romantic sacrifice?
Is love worth any and every kind of sacrifice?

I am learning more and more how much of a complex creature I am. I boast simplicity and desires for such, but my efforts for these desires end up being so much more convoluted and complicated. When if comes to love, I realize that I know so little...and that lack of knowledge often makes me uncomfortable and react out of said discomfort.

Amid my efforts, I am truly turning into my dad, in more ways than one. I may not be as stocky as him, or as resourceful, but there are definitely some signs that are popping up.

I've started say things that only he says. Stuff like, "Let me tell you something...", followed by some really insightful perspective.

I'm starting to get comfortable in my thinking that everything takes place AFTER family. Emotion enough to wage war.

I know what I'M doing. If you don't get it, get with it. (This is of particular distress, because my personally will typically bend over backwards to change my plan and level of comfort for you.)

Practical jokes are specifically in my dialect. If you don't like to laugh as foolishness, get from 'round me.

I will own up to any wrong I've done. I've done my share of stupid stuff, but I've grown to adhere to this statement: "You make your bed, you sleep in it."

A little over a year ago, I heard of a group called Little Brother. Since I heard them, I've dutifully went and bought/downloaded everything they had to offer, from their debut "The Listening" to their "...and Justus for All" mixtape. However, the end is nigh. Their final album, entitled "LeftBack" is dropping on April 20th, and it is truly a bittersweet affair. Their single, "Curtain Call" has dropped and to hear 'Tay and Pooh spit about wrapping it up and really sad. I've never anticipated an album's release like this before. Especially a hip-hop album. Consider it copped.(Link to Listen/Download)

I must be getting old. Because I really want to sleep right now. My more base human instincts (anger, joy, lust, etc.) seem to be peaking, because while sleep is at the tippy, I find myself wanting to cover all of them. At the same time.

Ya'll pray for me.

A [Biased] Open Letter to the Genders

2010-02-05T15:32:00.000-09:30

To the fellas,

So...to the majority?

I'm not here to judge, by no means at all. I don't know your personal struggles, your history, nor the weight you take each day. I believe that while we may have different definitions of hurt, pain is pain, whether a pin prick or a stab wound. And while I may not know all of you personally, I write this with a heavy heart:

Be men to your women.

And off the top, I know at least 5 dudes that would respond and say something like, "I don't know whatchu talkin' 'bout, I'mma man wit' mines, bruh."

All the same. Be men to your women.

Whatever the process may be, however hard it may seem, I strongly urge you to please. Be men to your women.

Because they need us. We exist in a world where women are rising to the occasion, a struggle that has been being fought for decades, almost centuries. There is still heavy, but silent debate on exactly what a woman can or can't do. But all the same, (it is my firm belief) that God has placed a responsibility on us males to handle more than "bringing home the bacon". Instead, we must first make sure our home is in order.

I'm not going to propose a ten-step program on "How to Be a Better Man in 2010". But we know what the deal is. We can laugh with our boys, we can bump dozens of hip-hop songs about "getting mine" and "everyday I'm hustlin'", but the era of single/teenage mothers and rising abortion rates, it past due time to be men to our women.

Love them. Honor them. Respect them. Because at this rate, we truly don't deserve them.

Disclaimer: (Let me first state that I am speaking to the majority. I know many fellas who are the exception, rather than the rule. Life tosses many variables, so to assume that 100% of the men of planet Earth fall into this category would be foolhardy. To you brothers, kudos, and keep on keeping on.)

To the ladies,

I don't know anything about being a woman. I would often joke about how I don't want to know anything about being a women, but I readily admit that it was spoken in pure ignorance. Just being stupid. All the same, I feel the urge to reach out to you. Call it young, call it dumb, call it softer than Charmin's, my heart aches at the things I've been witness to.

This is a freewrite, so I haven't even thought this part out. I think I just want to commend all the single mothers, teenage mothers out there. On the behalf of all the willing men, I am sorry for our failures and misfortunes as men. We have done wrong, and gotten beyond distracted. We have fallen in lust with so much more than that which deserves our attention. From Kardashian to quesos, we allow ourselves to take the easy way out instead of the honorable thing of treating you like the gifts you are.

I'm not an anti-male, feminist or anything.

But I do know wrong when I see it. And we have been wrong to you.

Disclaimer: (Once again, this is written to the majority. I know that just like the fellas, there are a number of ladies who aren't on their "act right". While I may not know all the circumstances involved in that, I will say that I urge you - just as strongly as the fellas - to realize how important a community is and why we really need to do what is necessary to pull it together. Just like there are some beautiful females, there are some outstanding men. Be willing. Be patient.)

The Love Experience [Part 2]: Guess Who Loves You More?

2010-01-29T21:39:00.000-09:30

I remember that I used to think that no one loved me.

At that point in my life, however, my definition of love was somewhat skewered. I had a weird "Disney-fied" view on love and its associates. The streetrat will always woo the heart of the princess, all the dalmatians will find their way home, and the beauty will always see the golden heart of the beast. And all of these things were hopes and dreams; I wouldn't say that I saw anything that aggressively encouraged these thoughts. I just think that I was what they call a hopeless romantic. Always waiting for that mystical ending. Or beginning.

There were a number of girls that I was interested in. And there were always some circumstances that prevented me from really being able to love someone, always something that I didn't have. A few times, I was told that I was "too good" for their graces. (I still have no idea what that crap means.) While I've grown past those days, I feel that those experiences still haunt me in various ways in my current life.

So, once again, at that stage, with constant rejection, I was more or less left to ponder on things in my own head. I looked around and tried to assess why no one seemed to like me, or why I wasn't an option for these girls. I began to draw comparisons.

Me

Shorter than your average
Visually impaired
No apparent physical ability
A strange interest in comics and action figures (not dolls)
Invariably reading books or writing random nothings or doodling

Them

Tall as, or taller than your average
20/20 vision
Physical dominance in every facet that mattered
Able to recall each player in the Chicago Bulls' 1996-97 roster
Somehow able to pass classes without once cracking a textbook

With that evidence and the lowered self-esteem that usually comes with grade/high school bullying, I had accepted the fact that I would never really be loved as long as these prepubescent deities roamed the playground.

Until I met Ibn. I don't know what an "Ibn" is, but this lil' boy owned his name like a crown. He had captured the wily little heart of one of my many objects of affection, whom we shall call Dee. She was one of the main people who didn't take my affection towards her seriously. I'm assuming that Ibn was more of her type. He was the Alpha Male wherever he was from, and he looked to stake his claim in my world as well.

And it bewildered me that any one would want to stay by his side for any other reason than to beat some sense into him. This kid reminded me of Tupac's character in Juice, hellbent on aggression and dominance. I assume that Dee's 13 year-old loins were tempted by his 'hood demeanor, but the boy could barely form a sentence without some expletives thrown in for good measure. You know, to get his point across, 'knamean?

One event sticks out in my mind. It was at a social gathering of sorts, a few folks from the church got together to celebrate something and everyone brought their kids along. Somehow Ibn ended up in attendance. The grown folks all grouped together while the kids ran around outside, riding on bikes and playing at the nearby park. Dee and Ibn were officially, but unofficially "going with" each other. I, the eternal social nomad, was still the distant friend. Far enough to deny association, but close enough if you needed to borrow a quarter.

I began to notice something in Ibn's behavior, something that seemed to be a continuing trend that only intensified the older I got. Ibn, while young and still very dumb was for all intents and purpose was a verifiable jerk.

He seemed to care nothing for Dee. The main emotion there was a lack of emotion. The way they interacted was more like Ike and Tina. She was scared of him. And I know they were young, with no good sense in their nappy little heads. But I've seen the same sentiment as I've gotten older. Men who, while attached to their women, showed them no respect. They belittled them, disrespected them, displayed utter disregard to their feelings or their womanhood. I've seen men drain the life force from the women they've been blessed to spend time with. Push them to make decisions that only harm them. Encourage them in directions that help no one but themselves. There's no warmth there. There's no care there. There's no love there.

And I've seen women run to them, with arms and hearts wide open. Willing to give just a little bit more of their being. Compromise just a little bit more of their souls. Denying their God-given instinct and trusting a fallen, broken man. Women are incredibly strong creatures, but much of strength, I feel, has been borne from a sense of battle-weariness.

And I've said to myself, what can I do? This is more targeted to the women with whom I have no connection with. These women, I do not know, and they do not know me. That being said, my efforts are more likely to be met with skepticism and caution.

But to the women I do know, and have known? I've had one constant question on my mind. This question initially points at me, but at this current point in my life, I've come to understand what the True Answer is.

"...Guess Who Loves You More?"

January: Wants/Needs

2010-01-25T17:18:00.000-09:30

Wants

John Mayer Concert
Jerry Seinfeld Stand-Up
All A's in Grades
Abs like Spla-Dow!
Pecs like BAM!
to clean my car, inside and out
to get my dad to read my blog/like my writing
an actual mattress
a new iPod Touch 32gb
to get out of my contract with AT&T

Needs

To eat healthier
All A's in Grades
a secure job for the summertime in NJ
more discipline

The Love Experience [Part 1]

2010-01-21T06:34:00.001-09:30

To my family...

This is where I'm from. I honestly know nothing else, and I am growing to see that I don't want to be any other way. This is where the man I will be started his journey. This is where I got all those butt-whoopings. This is where I learned to play the keyboard. These people have taught me so much about my faith and myself. I can't imagine being any different. I remember the amount of things that we have been through, individually and collectively, and it drives me to do what I can to bring us closer together, because this is no ordinary love. We need each other in ways that we're almost resistant to, but...it's all love.

To my first real love...

All that I know, all that I feel about love started with you. From the first moment you walked into church all those years ago, my heart almost literally bled for you. I've woken up from a summernight's sleep with your name on my lips, and I mean that in the most literal way possible. And yet...while it went nowhere, and while you could never understand in a thousand lifetimes how much I loved you, and while we are at two different places in our lives, and while I've finally moved on to greener pastures, I thank you. You've encouraged me. You've taught me. You've challenged me. What's funny is, you don't even know it. But I thank you. All in the name of love.

To "Destiny"...

My senior year in high school would not have been the same without you. Another lesson in love could not have been had without you. The purpose of friendship was made real with you, because at a point in my life where I needed affirmation, you proved to be elemental. At your own admission, there was a facade, and scars were formed, figuratively and literally. You left me. You went somewhere, and yet...I thank you. Of course, I went through a period of hating the oxygen that allowed you to breathe. But...I thank you. Fortunately, we were able to meet resolution, but I wouldn't have known how to rationalize my emotions without you. I remember all of it, all of us, all of you.

To my missed love...

While I wish that we had our own niche in time to exist independently, you are beyond important. Simply stating that you are a great friend is an understatement, because of where our relationship is. I've done things and made decisions that could have dissolved our friendship, compromised it and turned it into mere repeat of failed relationships of our pasts. But you decided to stay with me and be just that...my friend. What's funny is that prior to our meeting, I had given up hope on love, but you gave me something. You allowed me an arena to be, simply. Maybe God has something different in the cards for you and I, but I am glad that we are where we are.

To my current love...

Never have I known a love so intense, so complex. And we may have identical interests and passions, but one cannot deny God's penmanship throughout our relationship. I mean it when I say that I can't imagine not having you in my life; 'tis a blessing that we are this close. Once again, me and my foolish tendencies have threatened our relationship, pushing it to unnecessary limits...but here we are. And I meant what I said that one decisive night, oh so long ago: I love you, because outside of myself, beyond myself, I want nothing but your happiness and success - even to the point for you to save yourself from me if you had to. You have taught me how love is to be applicable and intentional, if it is to grow. And I want to continue to grow with you.

To my friends...

I don't need to go back in time and bring up stories of how I was the outcast growing up. I don't need to paint more pictures of woes and complaints about a part of my life that is no longer here. But I will take this chance to re-iterate, or even state for the first time for some of you who may not know - I've come from a very dark place. Yet you all call yourselves my friends. Not the "Chandler-and-Monica" friends, but friends to call me out on my stupidity...with love. Friends who reciprocate the warmth that I try to show to them. Homies, roll dawgs, potnas, peeps, ya'll provide me with a community that makes me feel safe.You challenge my faith and my walk with Christ. You allow me to make mistakes and learn from them. You allow me to stick my foot in my mouth, and then help me to take it out. Simply put, you show me a very basic, but often overlooked form of love. This is the kind of love that I think God meant when he spoke of fellowship, because I am learning that this life was not meant to be lived alone.

"...At least I can say that I have experienced love..."

The Love Experience: Intro

2010-01-19T04:05:00.000-09:30

So, I found myself listening to Raheem DeVaughn's debut album, "The Love Experience". In listening to the first song, I realized somethings that I wanted to take advantage of.

My "Love Experiences", according to The Love Experience.

First off, I understand that Love, will never have one sole definition. From Agape to Parental to Unrequited, love is the eternal Bermuda Triangle, an ever-existent Pandora's Box. Common understanding ceases to exist, and everything is made clear.

Looking back, I've learned how much of a part that this love (that no one can explain) has really made me who I am, and who I plan on being. Not to make it sound like the next "Antwone Fisher", but regarding issues of the heart, let me be the first blog you read today to point that I've been through some things with love. Call it a pinprick or gaping war wound, hurt is hurt.

But I feel that these experiences have something to offer you, as well as me.

So, I ask you...are you feeling loved today?

What Did I Do in 2009?

2009-12-31T11:17:00.000-09:30

Graduated Undergrad with a Double Major in Human Services and Industrial/Organizational Psychology. Trust me, it sounds like a lot more than it is...
Started Graduate School, focusing on Counseling...
Finally accomplished a dream and published my first (official) collection of poetry (which can be found for sale at Great Publishing).
Developed a growing interest/passion for photography.
Seen the inauguration of America's first non-white President...
...which, coincidentally, allowed me to see a lot of insensitivity within the Body of Christ, as well as this country itself.
Performed in front of my largest crowd to date with The Jedi.
Finally bought the Complete Series of Seinfeld & The Wire, both for under $110 apiece, thanks to eBay.
Spent an entire summer in Golden/Branson, Missouri, doing ministry work by spreading God's love to dozens, if not hundreds of innercity youth across the country.
Mourned the loss of my most influential artist/entertainer.
Split, then rekindled one of my most treasured relationships.
Finally, after years of torturous pain - I got my first car!
...which, coincidentially, allowed me to get my first flat tire.
Moved into a new apartment, with nicer features!
Met the face of resolution with an old heartbreak...
Twisted my hair again...
Attended one of the most fulfilling concerts I have ever been to.
Got somewhat closer to my siblings...
Got lost in my own city...
...and developed more tales in the story of my life, including but not limited to

skinnydipping
"pre-game" bonanzas!
cooking experiments gone right!
recording myself in a studio
road trips to DC, VA Beach & NJ
discovering the social underground of lynchburg's college life
a whole bunch of "almost's". Take it how you want it.
coming face-to-face with ignorance, on my side of the fence.
a few of my darkest demons
re: my love life - a deep affinity for John Legend, John Mayer, James Morrison and Little Brother
...and much, much more. Stay tuned for 2010!

"That's Just The Way It Is..."

2009-12-07T14:22:00.013-09:30

On my Facebook page, I got a message from Kerry Washington. Yes, the Kerry Washington.

I’ve been lusting over her for quite some time now, so naturally, I’d be a little more than shocked.
It read the following:

I’m not going to go into detail about how I found you.
I am going to make this very simple for you.
I will be in Virginia for the week, and I am more than interested in you:
one night only.
My number is ***-***-****, text if you are interested, DO NOT CALL.
$$$ will be involved if you need “encouragement”.
Offer stands for three days.

Of course, I danced back and forth, but I had dreamed of this for years. But…I was still a little suspect.

So I told my girlfriend. I forwarded her the message. This was her response:

Lol, what do you think that means? And money too?

Shoot, if you don’t, I’ll do it…maybe I can join?
Seriously tho…let me know ;)

I may be living a fantasy tonight.

Now, obviously, I’m full of crap.

Ask any man who has actually had a situation like this present itself, posting it on any social network could be collectively agreed upon as Not A Good Look, regardless of its moral questionability.

But, if this were my ideal world? This may actually happen.

I would get approached by a lust-worthy starlet, it would be approved by my ladyfriend.

And there would be money in my pocket as a result.

Unfortunately, it is not. Chances are, it won’t happen.

Nor any of the standards and situations that would make this world an ideal one.

Racism would be abolished. There would be no unspoken reinforced stereotypes, no accepted discrimination, and no more lame “You-know-how-us-black-people-are” jokes.
Reese’s would be the one healthy food group.
College debt would be forgiven after the completion of Graduate School and 5 years of employ in the respective field of study.
R. Kelly would be banned from making music.
Children under 18 would have no active interest in sexually related activities, and be completely content with Saturday Morning cartoons and hopscotch on the pavement.
There would be a universal musical standard, with demands like real-life application and 10-word obscenity limit per album.
People would leave Obama the heck alone.
Bill O’Reilly/Glenn Beck would shut the heck up.

Those suggestions and more would probably turn this world into a utopia for me.

But…this is not the case.

Bill O’Reilly is still running his mouth, and Conservatives and Liberals are still at odds and ends. I’ll probably be in debt until my 50s. 50 Cent has a new album out that will be hailed as another “gem” in today’s “music” scene, and Obama has the planet watching, hating and scrutinizing his every move. Forget slavery, racism is still alive and well, existing in the most violent of ways. An ideal world, this is not.

So what do we do with this?

There is a saying that states that if something isn’t malfunctioning in some way, why attempt to fix it. And in some contexts, that applies beautifully (If I got a 99% on a paper, I will not hurt myself trying to get that last 1%).

In other cases, I am inclined to wonder…why not?

Discrimination and racial tension is like a wine stain on the fabric of our existence in the country; it is here. And realistically speaking, there is nothing that can be done about it in this generation’s lifetime.

The Center for Disease Control reports that “1/3 of girls get pregnant before the age of 20…750,000 teen pregnancies annually…eight in ten of these pregnancies are unintended and 81% are to unmarried teens…”

Despite being 2008’s most popular, most controversial, most recognized, most symbolic of hope and change, President Obama’s disapproval rating is at 48.3%, while his approval rating is at 47.8%, a steady drop since last January.

And the facts go on and on and on, more than anyone of us can change.

And we live with this. We operate our lives, making room and Segways around it, Kanye-shrugging through, en route to our own comfort zones.

My question is this: What about change? What rule is there that says that we have to live with these culturally accepted, but generally unpopular and questionable laws?

Why live in a racist society, coming up with reasons why it exists and jokes that further propagate the stigma?

Why provide clean needles, strong condoms and Planned Parenthood sites around the country, assisting and appeasing the problem?

I’m not suggesting that we make one man’s rant everyone’s rule. But…we are not idiots. We have a God-given mind that we have the option to use…why not use it? Why sit in a dung-heap and not find a way out?

I guess I’m just tired of hearing about how “that’s just the way it is…”. I believe that it doesn’t have to be this way.

Sure, it makes for a great Katt Williams routine, but…we are thisclose to sitting in our own filth, adjusting to the smell. There is something that we can do, something that can be done. Voting is one thing, but…are we not a community/village?

At the end of the day, I will probably never have a night full of explorative escapades with Kerry Washington. My children will still be seen skin first, Obama or not. But I am attempting to make moves, in my life, to design my life around the constant hope and Greater Good Known as Jesus the Christ to do something, act outside of “that’s just the way it is”, and to make a place where Heaven scrapes the pavement.

Live Random or Die Hard...

2009-12-03T09:34:00.002-09:30

I snatched this one from Don's post...

saying no to:
taking life too seriously

staying in the same place for too long
another year with AT&T's wack service.

saying yes to:
Christ's Saving Grace

continously learning more about cooking

loving and living more and more
the next (final?) best thing in hip-hop/music.

giddy about:
LIFE
starting my own family

never stopping pushing this pen
((????))

deeply inspired by:
non-profit and grassroots organizations

Real Christians who live their lives as Real Christians

Authentic Artists

obsessed with:
My family

chewy LemonHeads
Seinfeld&The Wire
Michael Jackson

in love with:
"Pomegranate-Lipped Nile Queen"
GOOD POETRY/MUSIC
My God, My God, My God....

haunted by:
spoiled milk from last night

various lies to my parents

my arrest in 2007

saved by:
God's unbelievable, inhuman, amazing, beautiful grace and love.

Wants/Needs-Christmas List 2009

2009-11-30T08:05:00.001-09:30

A Brand Spankin' New GPS for my Not-So Brand Spankin' New Car
A cool bandwagon to jump on...
Dead Presidents, but I'm partial to Jackson and Franklin...
My First Pair of Jordans
A New "Little Brother" Mixtape/Album
A 4-Disc Country-wide Hip-Hop Collaboration Album

NorthEast Disc

No Diss Tracks
The Following artists are banned: Cam'ron, all of Dipset

MidWest Disc

The Following artists are banned: Bow Wow

Dirty South Disc

The Following artists are banned: All of Slip-N-Slide Records, Interscope Records
Only one Lil' Wayne track

WestSide Disc

A Decent, Well-Done, Respectful Michael Jackson Tribute Album (not just a collection of "My Fave MJ Tracks" or some random iTunes playlist)
A Pimp Suit
For the news to leave Obama alone and start reporting real news
My College Loans, paid off
More Opportunities
300 copies of my book, sold
A great singing voice
For Christians to start acting like Christians

Dyna-Mite! Dyna-mite!

2009-11-16T10:57:00.001-09:30

As far as classic Black movies go, it's a common joke in my circle that I am really behind the ball. I have apparently missed out on a huge elemental part of my development by missing some cult classics like "Coffy" or "Do The Right Thing". Heck, I only just saw "Purple Rain" a week ago. (I wasn't disappointed...but I wasn't impressed. However, Appolonia got some tig ole' bitties.)

I'm aware that the blaxpoitation genre of movie-making was huge back in the day. In an era that is widely understood as "not-a-good-look" for the Blacks of America, there was that call for something strictly for us. As time went on, and the filmmakers in America started to see the market value in being all inclusive across the production spectrum, blacks started popping up in more movies, getting more play time, more accolades, and better roles. Being militant and explicitly pro-black/revolutionary started to become unnecessary and obsolete, and we started to GET OURS. From Eddie Murphy in "Coming to America" to Eddie Murphy in "The Nutty Professor", things slowly changed.

This is not to say that White America-friendly roles didn't exist in the 1960-1970s. But I do feel that there has been a decline in your typical Pam Grier role.

Enter Black Dynamite. That man that's gonna "shake the tree from the roots, rake up the fruits, rip it up out the ground to find out what's goin down."

I really thought that this movie was a joke, a lame joke at that. Who wants to watch a movie that is such a throwback? Do we really need another "Undercover Brother" in these racially sensitive times? And who the heck is Black Dynamite anyways? How much of a spoof will this be? Never one to lie, I was definitely quite suspect.

That was before I saw the film.

Daggone.

Now, I wasn't around for the 70s. I was barely cognizant for the 80s. I was only exposed to a world of Bill Cosby and Reading Rainbow: happy Black people. I wasn't aware of "The Struggle". And any reference to it in the idiot box was pretty much parodied.

But I have to give much kudos to writers, the producers, actors, all involved with the film, because it must have been a HUGE task to do what this film did for me. Don't think that this is the next Spike Lee joint or some life changing movie, because it's not. You won't hate Whitey, you won't paint the White House black, you won't start fighting with nunchucks. But I feel that you may appreciate how far we've come.

Because it's been a while since a movie thoroughly entertained and excited me. Watching it, I was rooting for the good guy, who was also a B.A.. Not Sam Jackson's Shaft. Not Will Smith's Ali (that was a different inspiration, so calm down). I just...I felt like I was transported to a time where being Black was an actual struggle, a clearly defined one at that. In this country, being anything but White will always resemble an uphill battle, but the heat was UP at that time. While this up and coming generation will be more-or-less fighting to make sense and be relevant without sounding like a track on repeat, a generation before mine, they were still fighting to be HEARD and RESPECTED.

Now, there are tons morally wrong, if not questionable with this movie. Not all black heroes were dang-a-lang swanging, pre-hip-hop rhyming, kung-fu fighting militants. Luckily, I'm in my 20s and not as impressionable. But like I said...it made me feel something solid.

So I urge ya'll to check this movie out. When I say thorough, this flick was thorough. And funny as crap. Can you dig?

Phonte's Movie In A Minute

Honest Scrap Award.

2009-11-13T09:00:00.000-09:30

Well, I've been ever so graciously awarded with an Honest Scrap by I.Am.Spoken.Word.

According to the rules, I have to ante up, so ante I shall.

The protocol is to be encouraging and inspiring.

This won't be hard.

Here are the rules.

The honest scrap award rules:
1. Present the award to seven bloggers whose blogs you find brilliant in content and/or design or who have encouraged you.
2. Tell those seven people that you have given them the Honest Scrap Award.
3. Share ten honest things about yourself.

The Nominees for (R)Evolution's Honest Scrap Awards 2009 are:

Deutlich's "Speak On It"
"Art Star"
Don's "Minus The Bars"
Spoken.Word's "Be Still"
Muze's "She's So Flyy"
B.Yung's "The Mirrors In My Eyes"
Folk's "Black Folks Don't Swim!"

Ten Honest Things

I am growing to hate politics more and more each day. More than that, I am hating how religious folk USE politics to instigate their own agenda instead of God's.
There is no telling what I would do to perform on stage with some of my favorite artists.
I feel that at this point in my life, I have the same amount of regrets as successes.
I wouldn't mind being famous for something positive and inspiring.
I feel that my life's purpose is to work with children.
I know that God is in control, regardless of how it may look to me.
...but I just wish I had a clue.
Finally, I am accepting the fact that I know nothing about Love. Absolutely NOTHING.
In another life, I may have been a gigolo. Feel free to ask why.
My life is heading somewhere great, and I can't wait until I get there.

Wants/Needs: November

2009-11-12T18:15:00.000-09:30

Wants:

To travel around the country, performing my poetry.
Publish a nationally-acclaimed book of poetry
Hug and hold Jessica Biel
Cook a complete meal for my phone family
Pray with/for Lauryn Hill
Record an album, strictly for my family
Skydive/Base Jump

Needs:

A firm financial foundation
Strong academic discipline
Mature relationship with my dad

Where the Spirit Is...

2009-11-12T05:27:00.005-09:30

(encouraged by Don's post)

It was an early part of the Summer, one of those days when the heat starts to show up.

Granted, it wasn't unbearably hot. It wasn't hot enough to feel restless, but like I said...it was coming.

I was in Missouri, working at Kids Across America, a Christian Sports camp for inner city youth. Before the kids arrive at the camp, the counselors are there for a little over a week to prepare the camp for the kids' arrival. This Staff Training Week encompasses everything from camp upkeep and protocol to bible studies and fellowship.

Drawing closer to the end of the Staff Training Week, we began to relax on the upkeep duties and prepare ourselves spiritually for the task that lay ahead of us, both in and out of camp's gates. Some of us were staying for one term, which is three eight-day sessions, others were staying for two terms. A few were dedicating their entire summers to camp, a full 9 sessions.

For one of our final camp-wide fellowship meetings, we met in the gym at one of the camps. Now picture this: possibly hundreds of college aged students gathered in a cramped gym, during the dawn of the summer, in the middle of the country (read: the boonies), with absolutely NO air-conditioning or air-freshener. Never mind to that whole "groups-of-black-people-naturally-give-off-heat" thing. Body heat is body heat, and there was much of body heat that night. My glasses were fogging up, I was bumping into folk I didn't know, my deodorant had worn off long since that morning...it should have been a mess.

The dj running the sound system started playing music. The speaker hadn't come up yet, so we were all anticipating the message. Each song played was choice and lively, probably all in an attempt to keep us focused.

Then he played "Melodies from Heaven", from Kirk Franklin's "Whatcha Lookin' For?" album. Any fan of Gospel music knows this song in and out. No, not just black people.

On cue, folk starting singing. And it started out playful, because we had actually tried this a few days prior, a Capella. That attempt failed like Sisqo's career, but with the accompaniment of the track behind us, we all had a new sense of confidence. With each line, the group's tone grew more triumphant.

Chorus
Melodies from Heaven
Rain down on me (2x)
2x

Take me in Your arms and hold me close
Rain down on me (2x)
Fill me with your precious Holy Ghost
Rain down on me (2x)

Repeat from Chorus

Tenors: Rain(1st)
Sopranos: Rain down on me(2nd)
Altos: Let let let let let it fall on me(2nd)
4x

Melodies from Heaven (4x)

Rain down on me (repeat till end)

Something amazing happened in that room that night. I have head countless scripture about how the heavens sing out and how there is such joy in heaven. I've had classes point out which angels sing and why. But that night in Missouri, almost 200 college students put everything on pause for one unified purpose.

Family issues? Pause.
Relationship troubles? Pause.
Financial woes? Pause.
Political affiliation? Pause.
Public scrutiny? Pause.
Religious denomination? Pause.

God. That was is. Just him.

I have never been a part of such a beautiful event, before or since. I've been in church before, and I've been on choirs and choruses. But never have I been more at peace than when in a random assortment of blacks, whites, men, women, Pacific Islanders, unemployed, drop-outs, students, Trinidadians, Jamaicans, football players, band geeks, cheerleaders, Democrats, Republicans, suburbanites, hood aficionados, sanctified sinners, all gathered to wholeheartedly sing OUT LOUD, with arms stretched HIGH, some crying out, without a care to anything else but to simply PRAISE HIM.

Just to praise Him.

I believe that night, I caught a glimpse of an idea of what heaven is like.

Foreign Exchange in DC!

2009-10-26T10:52:00.008-09:30

>My feet hurt.

I have never been the type of guy to ever consider having a pedicure, but as of right now, I’m thinking that it may be a good idea.

I’ve been on my feet, using my feet, almost non-stop, for the past 24 hours. Doing what?

Attending The Foreign Exchange concert at the Black Cat in DC!

First off, let me state that this is my first secular concert. I attend one of America’s premier Christian university, and it being a college, there are a maelstrom of Contemporary Christian concerts. I’ve seen TobyMac, Switchfoot, Thousand Foot Krutch, Family Force 5, Flame, Lecrae, Tedashii, Rush of Fools, KJ-52 and more, all live. And these were pretty good concerts. As a fan of the previous mentioned artists, I’m an advocate for loud music. Especially when talent is involved (whoda thunk that TobyMac can *kinda* breakdance?).

But this past Sunday was particularly special for me. For a number of reasons.

A. In Lynchburg, the nightlife is seriously lacking. I’m from the Northeast sector of the country, so I’m rather accustomed to a more active PM lifestyle. And I’m not even a real huge party hopper; I’m just not used to a citywide unofficial 10pm curfew.

B. The parties that I’ve been going to lately have SUCKED. Maybe that’s how folk get down in the Burg. Maybe that’s how college folk compensate for the severe deficit of dusk-themed activities. But I have learned that I am not a house party kinda dude. At least not these house parties. (Wack Music+Lame Dancing+Beer Pong as Prime Entertainment <>

C. I am personally trying to get more comfortable as a 20something. I’m not a teenager any more, and I feel that I’ve got to pursue more on my weekends than the issues in Bullet A & B.

D. A few months ago, I bid farewell to one of my favorite Hip-Hop groups, 4^th Avenue Jones. I needed something to balance out that missing weight.

Come heaven or Afghanistan, I was going to that concert.

As we arrived in the Black Cat, my excitement level was humming at an 8. Then Big Pooh got on stage.

I will say this. Pooh catches a lot of heat, oft getting called the weakest link in the duo of Little Brother. I don’t necessarily agree, but I think that he was on point last night. Him being on his own grind, I feel, has given him the space to dig deeper into his craft.

I was hoping that there would’ve been a bit more LB tracks, but like I said, the man is on HIS grind, getting his name out there.

The DJ spun for a little bit, attempting to prep the crowd for what was about to go down. At times, he was lacking, but he eventually got it right. I personally would’ve preferred more Michael Jackson cuts. But I’m biased.

Then Nicolay stepped out. (That ‘bama is tall.)

Crowd recognizes him and goes nuts. He is followed by Carlitta Durand (who is a fine looking woman, by the way. If she is reading this, CAWL ME.) who starts off the set with “Lose Your Way” off of Nicolay’s “City Lights 2” album. Beautiful song.

Then the rest of the band comes out.

Yazarah, with her fine self, Darien Brockington and Phonte Coleman.

I’m not going to go on and on about how magnificent this night was. The web has enough of FE concert reviews. Instead, I’ll just make a few points.

· D –Brock can sang. That boy went to CHUCH. No, not church. CHUCH.

· Yazarah is like a modern day Tina Turner.

· Phonte is HIGH-larious. And a very talented individual.

· It says volumes about what you do as a performer when the audience can tell that you love what you do.

· The world needs another FE/LB album.

· “Good beats. Dope rhymes. This Hip-Hop thing isn’t really that hard.”

· LB stands strong, with or without 9^th Wonder.

· Eff Bad Boy. We need more HOJ.

· …we need to support good music, not just Hip-Hop.

Ya’ll need some FE in your life. Find your way to a show ASAP. Rob somebody, stab somebody, just do eet.

**Oh, if someone knows what the song “Purple Flip” or “Something About You” is, lemme know? I’m trying to make a playlist on my iTunes, and I have no clue where those songs came from.

Behind Every Great Man...

2009-09-10T04:20:00.005-09:30

I was bored the other night, so I looked for a movie to watch, one from my own personal collection. Classes were about to begin for the semester, so I wanted to take a chance to enjoy myself before the rush of the new semester started to bumrush my senses.

Didn’t feel like dealing with romance or drama, so “Save the Last Dance” wasn’t an option.

And I didn’t particularly want to watch anything too violent without some friends to enjoy the mayhem with me, so “Live Free or Die Hard” was out of the running as well.

I wanted something simple, but not idiotic. Humorous, but not too offensive.

So I opted for “Undercover Brother”.

Most of us are familiar with this quasi-blaxpoitation spoof film, starring Eddie Griffin, Chris Kattan and Denise Richards. Carrying one of Dave Chappelle’s best film roles in tow, I thoroughly enjoyed myself throughout this movie.

However, one of the funniest lines in this movie did something to me this time around…

Undercover Brother: You know what they say, behind every great black man...
Conspiracy Brother: is the police.
Undercover Brother: No.
Smart Brother: A bunch of slow white athletes?
Undercover Brother: No!
White She-Devil: A cute butt.
Undercover Brother: NO!
Lance: Probable cause.

Eventually, our hero is able to throw out that age-old cliché line that behind every great black man is a great black woman.

Now, I’ve always been able to over look this line and chalk it up to what I just said: cliché. Everyone one, from pastors to reflective college professors, has sprouted out this line at some point or another. However, for some reason, I started to sit and ponder on it.

Allow me to say this. By no means am I great yet. I mean, my ‘fro is growing to be a force to be reckoned with, but that’s about it.

All the same…were I great man, who would be behind me? Does that over-played adage apply to me?

And automatically, the answer came rushing to me, without challenge or second guessing.

I won’t lie; this woman can sometimes come across as naïve or fragile. When looking at her, “invulnerability” or “physicaly supremecy” are hardly the first things that come to mind. But to leave at the first impression would be your folly, because I have seen first-hand the strength that resides within this woman.

As a Christian, the Bible ends up being my resource and the main backdrop for my beliefs and standards. In this instance, I shall do the same. Enter the famed Proverbs 31 Comparison.

Proverbs 31: 13-15a – “She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family…”

This passage describes a part of this woman to the T. Even when her body is screaming for her to stop or slow down, I have a cavalcade of memories of her constantly working hard. Almost as if working with some unknown secret X factor, she operates dutifully, taking care of business, handling her handle.

She has shown me how important it is to work hard. Honestly speaking, I am a hardcore creature of comfort. I may not necessarily go for mani/pedi combos or take the escalator versus the stairs, but if I can, I’ll definitely take an opportunity to nap my behind off. In watching her, I’m aware of how important a good, consistant work ethic is.

Proverbs 31:18,20 – “She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night…she opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.”

I think this goes hand-in-hand with the previous passage: she is aware of what her work is worth. We all know that the generous (pun intended) hand of the Millenium Recession has been slapping people up, left and right; she is not immune to the damage. In the same breath, she is fully conscious of the value of her hard work. Because if it were up to me…I’d probably give up and move to Canada or something.

She is also generous and open-hearted. One area that I’ve seen very evident in her is her willingness to serve, almost regardless of an individual’s situation…or her ability to give. In today’s world, it is advisable to don a hat of caution at all times. This woman has a nature to her that contests that ideology.

I wouldn’t call myself stingy, but if I’m at my last swig of Dr. Pepper…you’re probably not going to get it, unless I really like you. She encourages me, without speaking about it explicitly, to have a generous heart. 2 Corinthians 9:11 mentions being blessed (or rich, as the NIV translation states) so that “you can be generous on every occasion…”.

Proverbs 31:30 – “Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.”

I personally think that this woman is truly beautiful, but I don’t personally know of any other woman who fears and respect the name of God with such…adoration. I have heard this woman described as a prayer warrior, and I cannot think of any other way to describe her. I briefly mentioned her calm, almost passive demeanor earlier; don’t let that distract you from the strength that she possess. A believer in Christ, rarely would she offer any advice and admonition without bringing it back to God.

So, here I shall repeat myself. Were I to be called a ‘great man’, who would be behind me?

I am blessed with a crew of friends who love me dearly and have supported me for years, and I have a family behind me that is as real as it gets. But I believe that standing behind me, never moving or wavering in the position God granted her 22 years ago, is my mother, Margaret George.

Along with my father, she has been with me, behind me, supporting me since the day of my birth, doing what we all hear, but is usually the hardest put into practice.

Love me.

I am still but a seedling in the face of the man God wants me to be, but I know that without the die-hard persistence and dedication of both my parents, I would be nothing now.

My Life According to Little Brother

2009-08-21T11:33:00.004-09:30

Seeing as how I'm coming back to the blogging circuit, I figured that I'd give myself a little filler post. And, I've really been feeling "Little Brother" this past year. As far as hip-hop goes, I've just learned about them, and I've been snatching everything up by them. So, after snatching this blurb up from Muze, I decided to follow up with this artist. Enjoy this little bit 'o insight, cop it if you want it!

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 12 people you like and include me. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "My Life According to (BAND NAME)"

Pick Your Artist:
Little Brother

Are you a male or female?
Diary of A Mad Black Daddy (skit)

Describe yourself:
So Fabolous

How do you feel:
The Get-Up

Describe where you currently live:
Welcome To The Minstrel Show

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Hiding Place

Your favorite form of transportation:
Speed/Slow It Down (kinda contradictory, eh?)

Your best friend is:
Shorty On The Lookout

Your favorite color is:
Two-Step Blues

What's the weather like:
Make Me Hot

Favorite time of the day:
Nighttime Maneuvers

If your life was a tv show, what would it be called:
We Got Now

What is life to you:
ExtraHard/Lovin' It

Your relationships:
Step It Up/Slow It Down

Your fear:
That Ain't Love

What is the best advice you have to give:
All For You

If you could change your name, you would change it to:
Roy Lee, Producer Extraordinaire

Thought for the Day:
Love Joint Revisited

How I would like to die:
Home

My soul's present condition:
The Listening

My Motto:
Dreams/We Got Now/ExtraHard/When Everything Is New

The Thriller

2009-08-20T21:47:00.006-09:30

I was sleeping.

While working at camp, I did a brief stint as a night watchman. My hours were from 8:30pm to 5:00am, so as soon as the minute hand made its 60th checkpoint at the hour mark, I was on my way back down to my cabin, in which I quickly went to sleep. During the day, I had no obligation to anything, so this particular realm of sleep was beyond delightful.

Around 6:30pm, on June 25th, I got a three consecutive texts from some friends.
• Text 1: “Nick! Did u hear about michael jackson?”
• Text 2: “Michael Jackson Is dead! Like, really…”
• Text 3: “Michael Jackson died today.”

…And I honestly froze, in motion and in thought.

I was not ready to hear this.

Allow me to back up a bit.

Way back when, in the wonder years of my youth, I was raised around a rather firm cul-de-sac of musical standards. Raised in a Caribbean household, my mom was a huge CeCe Winans fan. My dad was a devout listener to a popular jazz radio station, only alternating between that and the local Christian music station.

In the early nineties, hip-hop and rap music was picking up attention. Lest I remind you, with names like Tupac and 2 Live Crew running the scene, it wasn’t exactly inviting to youthful ears, especially under watchful eyes like my parents. The list of allowed artists was short.

Around this same time, some guy named Michael Jackson released an album called “Dangerous”. The first song off of this album that I had heard was entitled “Black or White”. And I can’t remember exactly how or the circumstances surrounding it, but I found myself in possession of this particular cassette.

Believe me when I say, I have never. Ever. Ever. Ever replayed or listened to one solitary album as much (before or since) Michael’s “Dangerous” album. More than 4th Avenue Jones “No Plan B pt. 2”. More than Mars Ill “ProPain”. More than J Period’s “The Best of Lauryn Hill” Mixtape. On cassette, my sister ruined it (she was at that playful stage where destruction is amusing). Once I got it on disc, I played it so much, the disc went bad. The second disc broke. Third is currently is heavy rotation in my car, and it’s starting to go bad now, only from a long life of overplay.
I’m not even going to speak about the first time I saw Michael dance. Everyone can echo emphatic adoration about The Moonwalk. We’ve seen Usher do/attempt it countless times.

But. I want to focus on a facet of Michael’s performing style that truly impacted me.

His energy.

I have never seen someone sing or dance or perform with such raw…energy. The first MJ music video I had ever seen was “Jam”, and I was blown away. It wasn’t even his best or my favorite. But in watching him move…you know how the story goes.

I had to try it.

And believe me when I say, I began to mimic what I saw. I had the moonwalk down pat in minutes. His patented side-step? I still do it. That complicated foot shuffle? It’s a part of my club scene repertoire. But that’s not really saying much. Aside from that, I can’t dance for crap, in my opinion. And I am but one in a legion of MJ aficionados who clamor for the “Beat It” dance number.

The main thing that stuck with me throughout the years? The energy.

It’s one thing to kick up your foot and squeal “Hee hee!”.

But I feel that a huge part of what made Michael so magical was how he almost existed on stage as a musical exclamation point. The simplest movements were sharp and on point. He felt it. He felt it, in every blood vessel, every sensory nerve, every bone in his body.

And he made me believe it.

When speaking about music, I frown whenever I hear someone say that it’s “just music.” I believe that that is one of the most sadly misinformed and ignorant statements someone can make. In the same vein, I can not listen to a good song and not…feel it.

I do more than bob my head. Many a time, I have gotten awkward stare and concerned glances from random passer-bys. Maybe they thought I had Turrets’ or something. Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me. Never has.

I can’t shake my borderline obsession with (good) music. And when I feel it, I can’t silence it or mute it. My iPod volume level stays on high. I would break out into a sad imitation of a breakdance if a particular Busta Rhymes track comes on. If Lecrae is spitting some hard truth, best believe I’m mouthing the words out, as if I was on stage with him. Timbo’s on the beat? Nick is on the street, frantically trying to match that…energy. (Don’t stop ‘til you get enough, I guess…)

And it all started with Michael.

The passion that I have for music, live instrumentals and raw delight was birthed with the first cassette tape I have ever owned.

And I know that this was a bit late. The world is moving on. People have already flooded Wal-Mart to cop Michael’s “Number Ones” album. Underground DJ’s have released tribute mixes, and have moved on to anticipate upcoming releases. The media will continue to feast on his stature. The world will continue to spin.

As will I. I’m looking forward to The Blueprint 3. Grad school classes start in less than four days. My siblings will continue to need my help more than they will ever know or admit. My parents will forever watch over me, as if I were still the baby boy they birthed 22 years ago. My friends and I will continue to ride out our growth.

But…that passion is a part of me. And God willing, I shall use it as he sees fit.

In saying that, I write this in urgency. To all who are reading this (my fellow Christians in particular), I implore you to grip onto something firmly and GO HARD BODY. Not for Michael Jackson. Not for your pastor. But for the Glory of Jesus, our Christ. While my introduction to this emotion came from a largely secular source, it would be amiss of me to not apply it in accordance to His Will.

Peace.

U KNOW.

2009-08-20T17:22:00.005-09:30

...now I'm back again.

2009-08-20T09:57:00.003-09:30

Well.

The summer of 2009 is officially over.

In a few days, I will be entering my first set of classes on the Graduate level. Aiming in the direction of mastering the art of Counseling, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous. However, as I have been known to say in the past…

“Bring it.”

In regards to this summer, it has been rather interesting, to say the least. As my last post would dictate, I’ve been working at a Christian sports camp in Missouri. The camp is called Kids Across America, and after spending three months out there, I’ve been subject to quite a bit. Outside of camp’s gates however, life has not slowed down. As a matter of fact, I feel like it sped up. So much has taken place since May.

New life and death.

Love and hate.

Beginnings and endings.

Obviously, I want to write about it all. Part of my personal journeys this summer has led to see some things in myself. One of those is the way that I write. I would really like to write about MORE.

So yeah. I guess this post is another re-introduction. Hope ya’ll are ready.

Gone for a minute...

2009-05-05T11:39:00.005-09:30

[Sigh]

About a week ago, I walked across the stage of Liberty University's Vines Center during the Commencement ceremonies, as one of the few thousand new graduates of 2009. While I was among the masses of souls heading towards the crippled job market, I was surrounded by family, friends and well-wishers. Even as I returned home to NJ, I was the recipient of many congratulations and "You did it , boy-ee!".

However, my mind was elsewhere.

The school year 2008/2009 was crazy. Insane. Bonkers. From the academic front to the financial banks, I personally have reached and exceeded my limit for stress and worry.

With no money in the bank, I somehow managed to pay rent and stay in my apartment. With a history of being almost allergic to mathematics, I reached into a mental reserve and pulled out a 97 in my Psychology of Statistics class. And in addition to all of this, I was still a fervent student in the class of Life, learning new things about myself. I've learned things that I thought I already knew about myself, things that I considered to be unshakable truths, not of my choosing, but simply because...that's the way things were.

Yet, with all the drama this year was filled with...I stood on this stage, representing 4/5 years of failures and success, tears and laughter, confusion and solace.

While most of my fellow schoolmates would be looking for jobs and editing their resumes, my academic journey was not finished yet. I would be returning in the Fall to begin my Graduate Studies in Counseling.

And my mind is still elsewhere...

Because for the second consecutive year, I will be returning to work as a counselor at Kids Across America in Missouri.

Some/most of you may not know anything about this place, so I will attempt to explain it.

Imagine the Boys and Girls Club of America and Vacation Bible School meets Wild and Crazy Kids...hopped up on Red Bull.

Kids from all across the country will be filling church vans and school buses to make way to Joe White's camp, for 6-7 days of sports, crunkness and God's love. One of the first things that I was told during last year's staff training was that I had better be sure that I was prayed up before going to camp. If not, and if my intentions were just to work for the summer, I would be completely depleted before the summer's heat struck in July.

I want to go to camp with more in store, this time around. Last year was amazing. But what about this year? What do I have to give?

Somehow, I doubt that a group of wily 10-year-old's will be held or captivated by a Bachelor's Degree.

This year has left me tired. Empty. Pushed to the point of tears.

With all that I've experienced, all that I've been through, all that I've learned about myself, I've got to prepare myself to POUR all of that into these kids. I have a hunger for more, more than a piece of paper, congratulating me on reaching this level of success. For three months, I will be in a delicate position of leadership, more grand than any entry-level position.

These kids are coming from a variety of backgrounds, some more rugged than others. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God hasn't brought me through this year without a master plan behind it. I want to bear myself naked for this season, holding none of what I've learned for myself. God's love and provision for me has been so apparent; if for no other purpose, but to share and inspire others.

So.
From May 20th until August 12th, I will be in Missouri, doing my part in the Great Commission. Playing Warball, Football, Basketball/Having Impromptu Crunk Sessions/LOVING on groups of young men that God saw fit to allow me to lead. Even if only for a few days.

The HipRockSoul Project (Intro)

2009-04-29T09:32:00.002-09:30

The Shin-Dig Before The Shin-Dig

2009-04-15T10:27:00.007-09:30

I attend college at Liberty University.

A lot of people (both attendees and otherwise) have a lot to say about it. Some like it, some love it, some hate it, and some...just want to graduate.

I've noticed lately that there has been a bug going around. I haven't really been bitten by it, but it'd be a lie to say that it hasn't affected me. A few friends of mine have caught it, but at this point in the game, I'm wondering how long I can run from it.

I'm speaking about the Marriage Bug.

Folks are getting engaged and whatnot, right and left. Those people who used to share a table with me at Singles' Cafe have moved on to more committed pastures.

And I'm not going to go into a schpeel about whether I am ready for marriage or not. That kind of conversation needs a can of Red Bull and chicken nuggets.

But in the midst of a conversation with a close friend of mine, I started to think about a particularly interesting aspect of getting hitched. Before the Ball and Chain become fastened to a young man's ankles, he is allowed one night of autonomy, set up from the ground up by some close homies.

This event is known as: The Bachelor Party.

I was encouraged to daydream.

If I could set up my own bachelor party, what would it look like? Would it be riddled with girls that like to get buckked-nekkid? Would I be drowning in a sea of Hennesy and Courvoisier?

I severely doubt it. My style is far from explicit. I try to keep it PG-13. (Note that I said TRY)

After a little thinking and rationalizing, this would be a few of the things I would like to spend my last day of freedom doing.

Food: Enough of that nachos and salsa crap. I want to be able to eat whatever the heck I want. Meaning, probably a lot of everything. Quesadillas. Meat-Lovers' Pizza. Roti. Jamaican Beef Patties. Pineapple-Pomegranate Smoothies. Fried Chicken. I want it all - nothing is off limits.
Entertainment: When I'm married and I start having kids, I'll more than likely have to get rid of most/all of my dangerous/illegal activities. With T-minus one night, I'll have to get as many un-couth shenanigans in a 24-hour period as possible. And this includes, but isn't limited to: Skydiving. Fire-breathing. Graffiti. Mooning a crowd. Peeing off of a tall building. Participating in a mosh pit. Dance Battle, turned into an enviable music video. And I want everyone to be sober for the entire affair.
Music: Since this should be a high-octane event, I want all the bangers. Not club-bangers, mind you. The classics. The stuff that every man in a 10 mile vacinity can sing along to. Live music, if we can afford it. If The Roots can be there, so be it.
Sports: An impromptu American Gladiator's match. And I shall be the victor.
Gifts: I want to be callous, and just say, "Show me the money!". However, I will accept these following items: Complete Series of Seinfeld (if I don't have it yet). Every piece of music that Mars iLL has released and otherwise. My own DJ booth. Platinum coated Shell-top Adidas/Air Force Ones. A "Man Plaque" with my name on it. Each and every gaming console since SNES, with the most violent games included.
...and a moment of silence for my pinky ring. I don't show it off much. I usually have it in bubble wrap in my sock drawer. At that moment in time, I will be retiring it, since there will be no more room for it in my jewelry cabinet.

I'm kidding. Kinda.

Honestly though, although Marriage is a cup that I am not ready to sip from yet, I do plan on it, and it shall be quite the adventure, in and of itself. Cuz my wife shall be alladat and a bag of Fritos.

The HipRockSoul Project

2009-03-05T10:59:00.001-09:30

THESIS:
Throughout the history of the music scene in America, there have been various sounds and genres. One can almost say that these different genres were like musical personalities. If music genres were people, Jazz would be effortlessly smooth and debonair. Country would be a hard-working homebody. Dance-slash-club music would be a loud personality, dressed in eccentric (probably European) colors and Soca/Dancehall would be a party animal.
Three sounds in particular have grown and evolved into powerful cultural forces in America and across the planet, forces that refuse to wane against the tides of time. Hip-Hop, which fights for the title as the Most Controversial Musical Genre is only a few decades old, but has revolutionized the culture at large. It currently stands as the one musical genre that has faced death and resurrection. Rock, which is deeply embedded in America’s fabric, constantly struggles with identity issues. Soul Music, the genre that blended the sounds of sanctification and sensuality, usually resides in the backdrop, yet still resounds loudly throughout the music scene today.
My thought is this: with three dynamic sounds such as these, what could possibly be the result of the trio’s amalgamation? In other words, is there a place in our iPods for HipRockSoul? It would seem that none of these sounds could survive without the other, but could the three exist in the same set of headphones?
In order to ask this question, we need to understand what each of the individual genres mean to us. Hip-Hop fans will need to be able to define the differences between Hip-Hop and Rap, as well as other questions. Fans of the Rock genre should be able to draw a decent line between which division of Rock they prefer, or if they like it all, inclusive of Punk/Metal/Acid/Adult Alternative Rock. Fans of Soul need to simply know the roots of it, and recognize it as an ancestor of R&B, and not an identical twin.
It would also be very important to understand the role of music in our lives. Some may see it as a extension of themselves, a necessity for day-to-day survival; others don’t see it nearly as important.
BIG QUESTIONS:
• Is the thought of HipRockSoul too abstract to be desired?
• What possible purpose could HipRockSoul serve?
• How to pay each individual genre/culture their deserved respect even in the midst such a sonic delivery?

The Valentine's Day Post

2009-02-11T11:15:00.004-09:30

I’ve never liked Valentine’s Day.

For some people, this may come as a total shock. I call myself a poet, and poets are usually known as the people who live for the one day that being emotional and lovey-dovey is acceptable. Love is generally synymous with Poetry.

Other people remember me as the kid who dressed in a mourner’s black on the 14th, bought a red rose from Wal-Mart…just to light that mother on fire. (It stunk up the dorm quite a bit, too.) I remember deciding that the day’s mission was to ****block all couples in my vicinity.

Don’t get me wrong. I think that Love itself is a beautiful thing. The reason we are saved and have a chance at eternal life is because of An Amazing Love. And why else do we love Luther, Barry, Donny, Marvin, Teddy, The Temptations, etc.?

I think I know where this hatred came from. Psychology would tell me that something horrendous happened in my youth that affected my view on this day. I believe this horrendous occasion is called: Middle School. And I may not be an official Psychologist or Therapist yet, but I figure the blame can be:
• Never getting a valentine in grade school
• Having all my crushes laugh at me in grade school
• Seeing all the jerks/douchebags/losers/weedheads/bums get the girls that they really didn’t deserve
• An amazingly staggering low self-esteem
• …Etc….

But. I’m 21 now. Grown man status. What’s done is done, and therefore water under the bridge.

But I’ve never liked Valentine’s Day.

I used to hate it, with the fury of a thousand hates. I even wrote a poem about it, aptly entitled “Love Sucks”. There was even a part two.

However, I cannot hate it anymore. My bitter/emo stage has passed, and I have experienced love, or understood more of it for real. Not even from a relationship standpoint. I have grown and learned and understood how universal the idea of love really is. With my parents, family and closest friends, I have experienced love.

The idea that February 14th is the official Love day is laughable to me. I see it as a result of commercialism. As a matter of fact, I fear that the same thing is/has been happening to Christmas…(but that’s for another post, another day…)

It would be, and has been wrong of me to hate the day. One of the main things that I’ve learned about love is that there is no such thing as too much love.

It sounds cheesy. It sounds hokey. It sounds corny. But its true.

I’ve never liked Valentine’s Day. I see no real die-hard purpose for it.

But there’s always a reason to love.

A Conversation I Had With Myself (On Inauguration Day)

2009-01-23T10:28:00.002-09:30

There are three modes that Freud detailed as being a part of our psyche, the Id, Ego and SuperEgo.

The Id speaks on the behalf of the pleasure principle, doing what feels right and answering its biological desire. The Ego stands as the police force, in a way. The SuperEgo is the judicial system of the psyche, standing as the judge, declaring things right or wrong. The SuperEgo can also be understood as a balance between the Id’s irrational pursuits and the Ego’s legalistic tendencies. My Id’s name is Javier. My Ego’s name is Obby. My SuperEgo’s name is Biggs.

From time to time, they sit at a round table and converse with each other. The following is a transcript from such an event.

Biggs: So…ya’ll know that we officially have a Black President, right?

Javier: Whatever. That n*gga ain’t even really all Black. He’s part-brotha. Half-time.

Obby: Javier, you know you ain’t right. And, remember back in the day? Even an ounce a dark in yo’ meat, and you were considered totally Black.

Javier: Oh well. I know he better open up Rikers. My cousin’s been in there since ’96, and he didn’t even do nothin’.

Biggs: Are you serious? He held up a liquor store with a toothbrush and a bar of Ivory soap. Still, no one is completely sure how he killed the cashier.

Javier: He didn’t do it! I was with him, spankin’ that behind on Mortal Kombat with Sub-Zero! At my house, in Phoenix!

Obby: But his fingerprints were all over the place…

Javier: It wasn’t him.

Obby: …and around the cashier’s throat…

Javier: It wasn’t him.

Obby: …and there was a report of him buying several rounds of shotgun rounds earlier that day.

Javier: It wasn’t him.

Biggs: Are you just trying to be ignorant and callous?

Javier: It wasn’t him.

Obby: (Sigh) In any event, I know that this is supposed to be a really huge day for America, especially for African-Americans, all across the country. I mean, we just swore in the country’s first non-white president. But I’m still kinda…reserved about him. I just…don’t agree with all of his policies.

Javier: And? Man, eff any that got a problem with my Black President! We fidna paint that motha BLACK! Cookouts and Block Parties all over DC!

Biggs: Didn’t you just dismiss him as only half-black?

Javier: BLACK PRIDE!

Biggs: What is wrong with you? Do you even have a stance?

Javier: Look, this country ain’t done nothing for me, but raise my taxes and called me a n*gg*r. I got the right to have some kind of pride about this whole thing. (Starts singing “Oh Happy Day” from Sister Act 2)

Obby: I understand that. But you shouldn’t really act out. You might offend someone.

Javier: Hey, who has two thumbs and doesn’t give a crap? Javier Id, at your service.

Obby: But what about abortion? What about the economy? Seems kinda sketchy to me.

Javier: Look, things are fidna change. Baseball is no longer a national past time. Sales for ribs are about to go through the roof! It’s a celebration, snitches!

Biggs: You do know that nothing’s going to really change immediately, right?

Javier: Like what?

Obby: He has a point. Being a president doesn’t mean you just do what you want with the country.

Biggs: Not just that. Wheels are going to start turning, yes, but there’s more that has to be done. Especially on our part.

Javier: Whatever, n*gga.

Obby: This is true. The waves of his election and presidency will effect more than current issues. For example, his family has quickly become the new model for fatherhood, being supportive wives and husbands…

Javier: Oh, you talkin’ about Michelle? With her fine behind…

Obby: Javier! That’s the First Lady you’re talking about like that!

Javier: Shoot, I’d vote for her any day…she could be MY First Lady…

Biggs: That’s disrespectful. It’s a good thing you’re not anywhere near the White House.

Javier: …all of that brown goodness…

Obby: At the end of the day, right is right. There’s nothing we can really do about it. Pride aside, I just can’t agree with his stance on abortion. I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I really hope he handles this presidency properly.

Biggs: Exactly. We need to pray for him and how he handles this country for the next four years. We need to pray for his daughters and his wife…

Javier: …bootybuttcheeks!

Biggs: …and we should also keep in mind that we are Americans together. We may not like him, his policies or anything else, but just as how we had to respect our last President…

Javier: Eff Bush.

Biggs: …we should show him his due respect. And look forward to the future with eyes of optimism.

Javier: BLACK PRIDE!

Show-Off

2009-01-16T07:09:00.007-09:30

One of the cockiest phrases ever is:

"When God made me, he was showing off."

It's always someone lookin' crazy fly. You wouldn't see a bum saying that, would you? You can't readily associate God with the stench of whiskey and throw-up.

Naturally, we can assume that whoever is saying this is some type of good-looking. And even if someone is saying that about someone else, I don't think they would choose anything less than pleasant to describe.

Maybe it's a part of our nature as man, or maybe we've been taught to understand God as utter perfection. As a matter of fact, I have a few people/things of my own whom I would instinctively think perfectly captured God's knack for making all things good and whatnot:

All pictures of beauty. All created by God, right?

So, what about this?

I consider myself to be an average looking person. Not too bad, nothing to scream about. Simply put...normal.

Upon thinking about it, what does that mean? Can I say that God was showing off when he made me?

I'm not Will Smith. I'm not Idris Elba or any other bronze skinned Adonis. I don't have chiseled abs or amazing pecs. I don't even think I'm insanely talented. I write poetry, short stories and the like. I try to put everything I have into every single thing I write, but that doesn't place me at the upper echelon of existence. There are tons of better writers out there than I. There are better singers, better dancers, better looking people.

I am not perfect by any means. So...does this mean that I am not allowed to say that God was showing off when he made me?

I think there remains something to be said about God and his design.

We know that He is the epitome of perfection. He is perfection. He is the trifecta of omni: omni-present, omni-potent, omni-scient. All places, all powerful, all knowing. So, just from that deduction, creating supermodels and natural treasures should be a cakewalk for him. He can create a sexy army of Jill Scotts and Kerry Washingtons by sneezing. He can paint immaculate canvasses with less than the least bit of effort. It's nothing for Him.

But to create something so incredibly unique? There are unique stars, unique planets, unique snowflakes, but unique me? There is only one.

There is only one.

And I know that there are billions of snowflakes that fall every winter, but the design is rather simple when compared to each and every one of us.

We are beautifully and wonderfully and uniquely and amazingly and divinely made.

Who out there can dance like me? Sing like me? Think like me? Write like me? Cry like me? Fart like me? Burp like me? Shout like me? Step like me? Move like me? Speak like me? I'm like a gumbo of awesomeness.

So...
God was showing off when he made me.

Goodbye 2008. Hello 2009.

2008-12-31T14:38:00.001-09:30

Flows in Prose

A Collection of Poetry

By N.Steven

Book Preview

Countdown Suckiz: Questions?

2008-12-28T14:50:00.005-09:30

This might end up being my last blog post of 2009, and I start it off with theft. Stoled it from Spoken.Word.

Hah. Enjoy kiddos!

10 Things you wish you could say to ten different people:
1. I wish we could still be friends, but I can't condone what you've done. I really want to punch you in the neck.
2. When will you start making better decisions? I'm your friend, but what good am I if you never heed my advice?
3. I have nothing against you...but don't give me a reason to f*&* you up.
4. I wish I had one more chance to love you like I've always wanted to.
5. You think I'm on your level, but I see on such a higher pedestal than I.
6. What did I do wrong? Do you understand how disrepectful you were to me when you literally dropped out of my life?
7. I worry for you so much, and there's nothing I can do about it.
8. I'm stronger than you think I am, but you will never see this. And that sucks.
9. I love you like hell, and I want to be your husband, but the aspect of marriage scares the hell out of me in ways you wouldn't believe/understand. And I'm trying to shut that voice up.
10. I wish I never lied to you, because you've done so much for me. And amidst my lie, you helped me try to rub that part of my life out. Thank you, and I will make you proud.

9 Things about yourself:
1. Probably the most defining thing about me (aside from my faith in Christ) is the simple fact that: I write.
2. I am a friend to the end, and many times, that is my Achilles' heel.
3. I have recently caught a rare skin disease. Unfortunately, there is no cure and no one knows where it came from or what causes it. Fortunately, it is so rare and stupid, it's akin to cooties. Meaning, it does nothing but look icky and itch from time to time. And by nothing, I mean, it's not lethal in the furthest stretch of the imagination.
4. I love my family, and I can't wait to start my own.
5. I yearn to learn, and it usually happens by either revelation or trial and error. A part of me wouldn't rather it any other way.
6. I love and live for good music.
7. I think I may have ADD. Or ADHD.
8. I'm a city kid, through and through.
9. I don't want college to end. But I'm ready to get busy.

8 Ways to win my heart:
1. If you don't like hugs, we'd probably have a hard time.
2. Listen to ME/Don't judge ME.
3. Have some hella good taste in music.
4. Appreciate the performing arts.
5. Be daring. Willing...
6. To fight/get dirty for me.
7. Love to laugh/smile/appreciate life
8. Above all else, love CHRIST above all else. Even yourself.

7 Things that cross my mind a lot:
1. Death
2. Life Post-Graduation
3. My family
4. Obi-Wan
5. My friends.
6. Money?
7. Am I as fat as I think I am? Or does it look like muscle?

6 Things I do before I go to sleep:
1. Watch one of my favorite TV shows
2. Write/Read.
3. Talk to Britt.
4. Pee.
5. Eat something basic (PB&J&W) (Ask me if you don't know...)
6. Ponder on what I'd want to dream about.

5 People I couldn’t live without:
1. My Father.
2. My Mother.
3. My Brother, Curtis.
4. My Sister, Michelle/Nicole.
5. My Sister, Cassandra.

4 Things I am wearing right now:
1. Pajama pants
2. Black tee
3. Grey boxers
4. KAA Wristband (U KNOW!!)

3 Songs that fit my life perfectly(right now):
1. Stand Back & Watch by Mars iLL
2. Inside Out by ??Liberty University Campus Praise Band??
3. Can't Hide Love by Earth, Wind & Fire

2 Things I want to do before I die:
1. Skydive
2. Father my children.

1 Confession:
1. The future scares me. I try to avoid thinking about it with a facade of optimism, and it's not always a front. But sometimes, any and everything about the future makes me run back to that poem.

Just Some Notes For The Season...

2008-12-25T12:06:00.002-09:30

I didn't want to leave you guys without a little something for the Season. I know I have a trend of leaving nice type notes up here, but I prepared some notes for a Family Discussion, and I thought I'd post the conclusion of those notes up here. Never knows who might need it.

Christmas is a time that most of America prepares to go crazy and buy, buy, buy. While some people only make blind purchases, “in the Spirit of the Season”, there are also some who buy gifts that they know that their loved ones will cherish and/or appreciate. The trouble lies in getting lost in receiving mode. We get used to receiving gifts, both from loved ones and from God. I think it would be beneficial to our growth as individuals and as the body of Christ if we look at this season the way Christ and Saint Nicholas did – with a Spirit of Giving. They both gave without thinking, and they didn’t need a list to do it. Jesus, who knows us inside and out, gave us the most priceless gift that we could never ask for, which is our redemption and salvation. Saint Nick helped those around him in ways that could not be done without him.
These two are the most celebrated figures of this Holiday Season, but JESUS CHRIST is not a cliché; He is the reason why Saint Nick dons red and black, and why children hope and believe in receiving that one gift that will change their world…much like we, as Christians, believe in the Gift of Salvation that undeniably changes our lives on a daily basis.

Comin' To Break You Off: 2008

2008-12-23T09:15:00.004-09:30

This year. Oh man. I can't begin to describe it...

Fortunately, my lurk-ish tendencies drew me to Muze's spot, and she had this thang-thang up, so I figured since it's cold outside, and I'm still in my bed, I might as well do this and have some fun with it.

1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?

A bit of traveling. From South Carolina to DC to NJ to Missouri to VA. I've also moved into my first apartment. Boom.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I can't even remember what my resolutions were. It was probably something I always say, like "Gotta lose weight" or "Save your money"...and I'll probably make more for '09. But Muze's idea of 3-month intervals sounds like a sweet idea...

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Nope.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, but there were definitely some scares and false alarms.

5. What countries did you visit?

Countries? None, but I'm graduating in May, so who knows what Ill try to do.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?

A freaking car. The money to support such an endeavor. The money for printing my book (Comin' to a Black Coffee Shop Near You!). Pretty much, money.

7. What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

The day I led three 10-year-old boys in the Sinner's Prayer for the first time.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

There are a few, but I think pulling off this semester amid the circumstances was a huge blessing.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not listening to God more. Oy, that was stupid.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I remember a few weeks back I was sicker than I've ever been. Coughing hard enough to garner a headache each time around, and enough phlegm to start its own "Fear Factor" episode.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

My laptop, snitches! A Dell Inspiron 1525 purchased in MY NAME. Boom.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

My little brother. My man came through this semester on the honor roll, and I am amazingly proud of him, because he definitely had a lot in his way. But he did it! I'm thinking of taking him to a titty bar...

I'm kidding.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

One of my best friends. I wouldn't say depressed, but I really wish things were clearer/easier for him.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Bills, bills, bills. Oh, and Sheetz. And there was a solid two weeks where all I ate was McDonalds, because of that Monopoly thing. Baaaaad idea.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Going to Kamp in Missouri and coming back to school resident status.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?

"Hero" by Nas.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
- i. happier or sadder? happier
- ii. thinner or fatter? actually, i think i maintain the chub. but love it while it's here, cuz i'm getting rid it, come '09.
- iii. richer or poorer? definitely poorer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

praying and working out.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

dwelling in my own ego/pride, playing the part of counselor instead of friend, less defense.

20. Did you fall in love in 2008?

already there.

21. How many one-night stands?

none.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

I've always liked the Office, but I just recently got turned on to Scrubs.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Hate is such a strong word. But there is someone I'd love to punch in the throat...

24. What was the best book you read?

I've said it once, I'll say it again. C.S. Lewis is a beast, and reading his stuff is edifying. At least for me. "Mere Christianity" is one of THOSE.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

John Legend's new joint, all the other Roots' albums that I didn't have, and Little Brother, which I shall dub "The South's Greatest Secret".

26. What did you want and get?

mild independence.

27. What did you want and not get?

a car. a job. my way.

28. What were your favorite films of this year?

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, Wanted, Zack and Miri..., Iron Man, Dark Knight, Eagle Eye, Wall-E, Kung-Fu Panda...

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I had the day off, so I bought a hotel room in MO, watched some tv and talked on the phone. Hello 21.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

This is probably really shallow, but having more money would've made a bit more things possible.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?

Makin' It Work With Whatcha' Got, ya dig?

32. What kept you sane?

My iPod, my family and friends, my God, and my lady.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Honestly, none are coming to mind. I mean, Amy Smart could still get it, but I don't think "fancy" is synonymous with "shaggadelic".

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

The entire election. As if you couldn't have guess at that one.

35. Whom did you miss?

David, Diana, Courtnie, Chris, and My Fam.

36. Who was the best new person(s) you met?

KAA Staff, Shanada (she's not new, but i definitely got to know her better).

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:

Keep Christ first, in between and last. Always.

Love.

Believe.

And have a hell of a lot of fun while doing it.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

"If you could you would get rid of me
what you gonna do when a nigga got to go hard
but i wont let you get to me
you should already figure imma go hard
if you were as real as me
you would never let another nigga step in yo yard
makin money aint sh*t to me
this in my veins and it gets to my heart
so i am, i will , i gots to go
you got another way to live you gots to go hard
i am gettin it in until the end i got to go, go, go , go hard" -'Go Hard - Kanye West, T-Pain'.

Alright kids. I tag everyone and anyone. But I would like to know who's doing it, so...gimme love?

Because I'm on Christmas Break...suckiz.

2008-12-19T20:37:00.005-09:30

Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring...except for this silly blogger and his insomnia.

Are your ears gauged?
Um. No.

When was the last time you held someone's hand?
Almost a week ago. Sad stuff, I know.

What are you doing right now?
Filling this out, finishing a poem, talking to the missus and watching The Boondocks. You know, the one where the teacher called Riley the N-word.

What color is your shirt?
Baby blue.

Who was the last person you texted?
Leggz Wonder

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with a J?
Yeah. I think her name was Jasmine...

Would you get married if you could right now?
Is Michael Jackson sane?

Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?
Brittney. Unless my mom counts.

What is the next concert/show you're going to?
I dunno, but it'd better be a good one.

Are you in a good mood?
I'm good...I'm actually pretty good.

The last person you argued with?
Probably my dad. Or my sister. Or Britt.

Do you prefer warm or cold weather?
Warm.

Is any part of your body sore?
My arm, as a result of a snowball fight gone wrong.

What do you wear more jeans, sweatpants, or slacks?
Jeans, cuz' I rollz like dat, potna.

Who makes you so mad you could puke?
Ar-ruh Kelly.

If you were another person, would you be friends with yourself?
Maybe. I try to like myself, no matter how hard it may be.

Are you confident in yourself?
It's a work in progress.

Brothers/sisters?
One brother, two sisters.

Boyfriend/Girlfriend?
I think I can call her wifey now. Unless I should just keep it to girlfriend. I dunno. One of those.

What's one thing you've never told anyone?
The same thing I'm not telling you.

Favorite color(s)?
Blue.

Your favorite fruit?
Pineapples.

Is there anyone who's a lot like you?
There's probably a few folks with a bunch of similarities. But I'm the only me there can be. And if there's another me, we can fight for the title.

How many things in life do you hate?
Apathy/Laziness
People with Bad Breath who act like they don't have Bad Breath
People from any demographic who act like bad representatives of that particular demographic
Ar-ruh Kelly.

Do you get offended easily?
Not really.

What were you doing this morning at 7am?
In my bed, doing the thang thang. And by "thang thang", I mean sleeping.

Are you any good at math?
I'm about as good at math as I am at pole vaulting. Which is not at all. Yet, by the GRACE OF GOD, I passed that effing class.

How many different beverages have you had today?
I had some milk, some Sunny D, and some Green Tea Ginger Ale.

What do you wish for?
Graduation + Spring Break + The release of my book.

Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
I would draw the Mona Lisa, but I was too busy being AWESOME.

What's the most painful dental procedure you've had?
Getting my braces taken off.

Any plans for Friday night?
AIN'T NO PARTY LIKE A NICK G PARTY, CUZ A NICK G PARTY...is over at 1am.

What did you do last weekend?
Packed for Jersey, spent time with my Jedi and...watched some Simpsons...

Do you have a secret crush?
One day, I will confess my undying love for Amy Smart, Sanaa Lathan, Jill Scott and Princess Jasmine. Yes, the cartoon from "Aladdin".

Do you dislike anyone right now?
Kinda. More like a lack of respect.

Something you are excited about?
Getting my hair done tomorrow! Cheah!

Are any of your great-grandparents still alive?
Not to my knowledge.

Do you have any nicknames?
Nicky G
Saint Nick
Slick Nick
N. Steven
Phoenix
Kai Justiss
Nappy McJenkins
Brother Darkness
...and quite a bit more.

Do you and your boyfriend or girlfriend fight a lot?
Nah. We don't fight. Unlike most couples...*side-eyes Whitney and Bobby*

...Too soon?

Who is the craziest on your top friends?
David, but he'd probably relish the title of "craziest".

What is the last thing you got in trouble for with by parents?
My hair.

What's more important to you, good grades or having fun?
I need both, but seeing as how I'm fidna graduate...it's time to go hard.

Where do you get your hair cut?
it's been so long, i can't remember.

What's so great about the Jonas Brothers?
I was thinking you'd tell me.

Have your parents ever told you that you couldn't hang out with a certain someone?
Yop.

Have you ever cleaned up someone else's vomit?
Yes. Did I enjoy it? No.

Do you laugh at people with "bowl" haircuts?
Wait...people still do that?.

Does your boyfriend or girlfriend get mad/jealous when you talk about the opposite sex?
No, I don't think so. Are you serious? She got leggz for dayz...

Have you ever seen someone you knew and purposely avoided seeing them?
Nah.

What was the last R-rated movie you watched?
Zack and Miri Make A Porno. It was actually pretty decent.

Who do you sit with on the bus?
My iPod.

Who was the last person you ate with?
The fam.

Who was the last baby you held?
I have no idea. I need to step my baby-holding game up, eh?

What were you doing at 10 am?
Getting a call from my dad to start shoveling the snow.

Name everything you've eaten today?
Bowl of cereal (Corn Pops), Cooked Ham, Fried Chicken, Ribs and Macaroni Salad, and Three Peanut Butter and Jelly Sammiches.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone after midnight?
My Jedi.

Would you have sex with someone you had known less than twenty four hours?
Depends. If I'd just seen Mr. & Mrs. Smith, and I ran into Angelina Jolie at Sheetz, then...all bets are off.

Do you secretly still talk to an ex?
Secretly? No.

Who was the last person you got in a fight with? About what?
I don't think I've gotten into a fight with anyone. Or it's been so long, I can't even remember.

Do you and your siblings fight over the computer?
Seeing as how I paid for this bad boy with my own money, there is no fighting to be done. It'd mine, point-blank, period.

What's your last sent text say?
"I think I may have rendered him silent.
"
Awkward, I know.

How's it going?
Alright, I guess.

Who did you last have an interview with?
Sears, with their non-calling-back selves...

When did you last eat pizza and from where?
Domino's in VA.

Are you allowed to stay up later than 10pm on a weeknight?
Shoo, I better be...

Would you ever take someone back if they cheated on you?
I'd really have to sit down somewhere and think about it...

Did you go to sleep happy last night?
I went to sleep last night. That counts as happy to me.

Do you continue fighting in an argument even though you're wrong?
I try not to.

When was the last time you went swimmimg?
Summer.

On average, what do you think you cry about the most?
Excruiating, mind-numbing, explosively shattering pain.

Do you still shave your legs in the winter?
Not really...

Do you get crunk every weekend?
You know it.

Do you like ferris wheels?
Um...

How many girls would you just love to shoot?
Shoot, as in shoot a movie? Or as in, Smith and Wesson? For the former, Danity Kane. For the latter, Danity Kane.

Have you ever slept in contacts?
Yup. Bad idea.

Are you related to anyone named Blake?
I hope not. I'd hang out with him, just to make fun of his side of the family for naming him/her "Blake".

Do you whiten your teeth with Crest White Strips?
I tried to. Not the kinda habit I can keep track of.

Have you seen the movie, Thirteen?
No.

Don't you just wanna stab someone with a fire poker?
I'm telling you, if I roll up on R. Kelly in the streets, it'd gonna be a misunderstanding.

How long was your last phone call?
A couple of hours. Maybe four or five.

Miss someone?
Yop.

Do you like someone right now?
Affirmative.

Do you believe in true love?
Si.

When was the last time you were disappointed?
A few days ago...when I signed onto Facebook and saw that yet another couple had broken up.

What is something you'd like to have right now?
Oprah's paycheck. And my baby, because she just reminded.

Do you miss your past?
Not really.

Are you tan?
I stay dark and silky.

Does it matter to you if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?
Socially, no. But not with breakfast, lunch and dinner.

How many kids do you want to have?
I think four would be cool.

What did you do today?
I woke up, shoveled snow, helped my dad set up his new computer, ate dinner, talked with my dad, watched the rest of "King Kong" "U-571" and "The Wild", and am now on the phone.

Did you kiss or hug anyone today?
Yup. Cuz that's how I roll.

Have you ever told anyone you loved them?
Yes, I try to as often as possible.

Where would you like to live?
Somewhere else.

When was the last time you laughed?
A couple minutes ago.

Whose bed did you sleep in last and why?
Mine. Cuz it'd mine.

Have you had alcohol today?
If I did, then I'm in for a surprise.

Do you like snow or rain?
Seeing as how I don't have to shovel rain, I'll say rain.

What do you currently hate?
Slow internet connections and having no money.

If someone liked you right now, would you want them to tell you?
Um, not that I wouldn't want them to tell me, but I don't think I'd care. I couldn't act on it, so that information wouldn't do much good. But I'd respect their honesty.

Do you prefer to take showers at night or in the morning?
As long as I'm getting clean, does it really matter?

Do you know anyone addicted to any type of drugs?
Weed is a drug, right? Okay, then yeah.

Do you believe that if you want something bad enough you'll get it?
If only.

Are you a morning person or a night person?
All the freaks come out at night.

Have you done something bad today?
Bad?...I don't think so.

Do you want to see someone this very minute?
Maybe YES.

What are you sick of?
I'm sick of commercialism ruining the season.

Are you normally a happy person?
I try to be.

How many Advil's do you take at a time?
Two.

Are you wearing anything you borrowed from someone?
I think these are my dad's sweats.

Can you sleep in jeans?
I can sleep in anything, as long as I'm sleeping.

Are you an emotional person?
To my shame, yes, I am.

When's the last time you studied?
Two weeks ago. And I'm out that bi*$*.

Has anyone told you a secret lately that you aren't allowed to tell anyone?
It wasn't told as a secret, but I understand that somethings aren't anyone else's business.

What are you afraid of?
Myself. No one. You.

Introducing Hawt Sawse

2008-12-12T10:09:00.004-09:30

I'm sure that this breaks a foolishness barrier somewhere. But I cannot even pardon myself. This is just a little clip of the nonsense that I've been a part of this semester. Enjoy.

Two/One

2008-12-08T05:09:00.007-09:30

Well.

This semester. Boy, I tell you, it has been a trip. A wild ride. A doozy, even. I've had highs and lows. I've laughed hard and been on the verge of tears too many times to count.

So far, this semester:

I've moved into my first apartment, and boy was it bad timing. I didn't prepare for it at all. I didn't pray about it, I didn't look for a good roommate (because you never know someone until you live with them and their funky habits); I didn't even have a job. Or a car. And for that, I get a major Fail.
This semester has been proven to be one of my toughest, academically speaking. And for most of my classes, I've been doing fine. I expect A's in those classes. However, in two other classes, I am a sneeze away from either passing or failing. And those two of those finals? Tomorrow, on the same day. And they pretty much decide if I graduate or not. So, another major Fail.

But on the other end:

I have never worked this hard at maintaining a steady study habit in my entire college career. Like clockwork, I focused totally on doing my homework and understanding it as I did it. I did my papers on time, and if not, I mad sure that the work I did would make up for the points I lost for being late. And, for the most part, it paid off.
I've had to understand that I struggle with pride. I'm not a know-it-all or any kind of major jerk, but I do have a problem with my ego and doing things for the sake making sure that I do it for myself. In understanding this, I can, and have been making moves to reverse this. There is a really good psychological theory to explain this, but I'll leave that alone. The good news it, I'm getting better in being open to accepting help from other people, because that it how I've had to make things work for myself this semester.

But the process sucks.

So. At the end of the day, I have two finals tomorrow. It's somewhat akin to Doomsday, because of the amount of pressure. I HAVE to pass. And after that?

One more semester of undergrad. One.

Two finals. One more semester.

The He(art) of My Hustle

2008-11-18T08:08:00.003-09:30

So.

I'm starting to get pretty shameless. I am amazingly close to printing out my debut collection of poetry, but the only thing in my way is the funds I need to pay for the printing cost ($800 bones).

Naturally, I don't have eight hundred dollars. I don't even have $8. And without a job, it gets that much harder.

Therefore, I have decided that lil' ol' me will try my hand at this hustling thing. Not anything illegal or morally compromising, (although I do have a source that might be able to get me some connects, ya digg?), but something more of my forte. Like my art itself.

It makes sense to me. Besides, it'll give me a chance to stretch my lyrical versatility.

So tell your friends. I am officially a poet for hire. $5-10 a pop.

Marvelous Times Indeed.

2008-11-10T17:44:00.001-09:30

I don't know if I can take it.

Common's coming with a new album. (Eh.)

AND

The Mighty Mos Def as well? (OhEmGee.)

Change is brewing, forreal forreal.

My Election Day 2008

2008-11-03T20:44:00.006-09:30

1:14am: Arriving at my friend's house after a 4-hour shift, working at InService America. Now, I'm watching "Scrubs", waiting to go back home to record some tracks with my roommate.

2:01am: Got back home to meet some friends on their way out after they've already started recording some audio for our pseudo-band "Hawt Sawse". While they are leaving, one of them asks me when I'm going to vote. I tell him I don't know, to which he responds that he's thinking about leaving at 5:30. It sounds like a great idea to me, so I tell him, sign me up, let's go vote and "get it out of the way".

2:43am: Start watching online episodes of the sixth season of "Scrubs".

9:59am: My roommate wakes me up to ask if I wanna go vote.

10:23am: Leave apartment to go to the polls. Still undecided.

10:29am: Arrive at polls. Still undecided.

10:35am: At electronic booth, praying for a wise decision and I vote.

10:45am: Leave polls, hoping I didn't make a mistake, and start scheming on a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch.

A Little Bit o' Pledge.

2008-10-30T06:06:00.003-09:30

I hereby aim to speak nothing of politics until November 4th. This election has engaged every emotion in my body, and I don't really think I could take it any more.

I am definitely registered to vote, but with Election Day less than a week away, I really need to retreat inside of myself before voting. I've had more than enough help from the media, classmates, professors, family and friends.

So.

Nothing about Obama, McCain, Palin, Biden or the political state of America until the clock strikes 12am on Nov. 4th.

HipRockSoul: 1997-2006

2008-10-29T08:29:00.001-09:30

All my life, I've been into music. Not many people know this, and I guess in someways, I've kept it as a secret, but I have some history in playing the piano. Since I was younger, there has failed to be any instance in my life where I wasn't involved with music in someway. From the church's youth choir to a brief stint as the church pianist to my High School's choir, music was an integral part of my life.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered this thing that we know as Hip-Hop. When I first heard about it, it was taboo.

See, my parents? They were one of those parents. If it wasn't Gospel or Distinctively Christian, it was questionable, at best. And these were the early nineties, when 'Pac and Biggie were running the radio. To answer Sid Shaw's eternal question, I remember when I first fell in love with Hip-Hop, or at least when I first developed a crush on her.

I was at my grandmother's house. I forget exactly why I was there, but I remember that my cousin was there too, probably skipping one of his many jobs. He had a boombox, the root of many an envious eye, and it was blasting this gem:

Armed and dangerous, ain't too many can bang with us
Straight up weed no angel dust, label us Notorious
Thug ass niggaz that love to bust, it's strange to us
Y'all niggaz be scramblin, gamblin
Up in restaraunts with mandolins, and violins
We just sittin here tryin to win, tryin not to sin
High off weed and lots of gin
So much smoke need oxygen, steadily countin them Benjamins
Nigga you should too, if you knew
What this game'll do to you
Been in this shit since ninety-two
Look at all the bullshit I been through

I was done for. I didn't know what it was. It didn't register that he was talking about less-than-Christian activity. I liked it. I was mesmerized, hooked and attached. It was dangerous and attractive, gritty and beautiful. From that point on, I actively pursued anything else that could make me feel that way...usually, this pursuit went against the desire of my parents.

So, logically, if they didn't like it, I was on the right track.

Years went by, and my chase for The Beat went the various phases. I partied with pop-rap for a while (Big Will f.k.a. Fresh Prince) and meditated with Christian rap/hip-hop (Corey Red, Cross Movement, KJ-52 etc.) and experimented with rock-rap (Limp Bizkit, Linkin Park, etc.).

Then...
it happened.

Once again, the details are fuzzy, but I recieved/puchased/discovered a mixtape: DJ Maj Presents The Ringleader. Track 4 re-introduced my ears to a simply astounding sound by the name of 4th Avenue Jones. The track was called "What You Want" which was exactly that.

turn up your radio dial this now the jam zone
i’m making tracks homie serving their lacks until the amps blown
with the kind of flows you can’t clone
my tight poems sewing the game up putting the clamps on
never fake made for tv
real and i’m coming with skills fans camping out 3 days to see me
my whole click tighter than a beanie
removing our foes ready to prove it to those who don’t believe me
when I was young thinking of a way to ball
i came with a rap style that’ll fade them all
stayed true when I did it never had to switch
now my crew done came up from a rag to rich
rock sold out shows for a piece of mayo
got my own record company and beats for sale
excel when I get on it sound tight now don’t it
i see the look in your eyes you know you want it
you know you want it

And once again,
I was hooked.

All I wanted was some more of the 4th Ave Crew. I went on their website, which was the now-dead HipRockSoul.com and systematically bought three of their released albums. At the time, the newest album was called "HipRockSoul" and it was already sold out. So, I quenched my thirst with their albums, "No Plan B", "Respect", and "No Plan B Pt. 2".

I was in hip-hop heaven. They had rhymes with content, beats with strength and AWWW YEAH!!! all in it. Not only did their lyrics possess actual thought, but they were just unashamedly Christian. They openly claim the name of Jesus Christ, and don't really shove it down your throat. 4th Avenue also encouraged me to look for more in music. Actually, because of 4AJ, I've gotten into:

Pharoahe Monch
Mars iLL
Common
Somobe
Lupe Fiasco
Mos Def
De La Soul
Black Eyed Peas
Andre 3000
and a host of other fabulous artists.

But...with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Since I entered college, I've been almost literally holding my breath for a chance to see 4th Avenue Jones perform live. Unfortunately, Ahmad of 4AJ said on his myspace page that 4th Ave had their final live show in 2006, before he retired, then started working on his solo album.

Maybe I'm looking into it too much. Maybe my attention is ill focused. But I feel like this is the passing of an era in my life, like high school. I entered it, not knowing what to expect, but after a few years, while I am more equipped to handle certain things, I will miss the experience. And like I am doing with my memory of high school, I will look for ways to re-create the feeling.

*lifts up imaginary glass of champagne*

This toast is to 4th Avenue Jones. May I continue to search for Heart, Mind, Spirit and Soul Music, Rocking Hips and Souls with HipRockSoul.

4th Avenue Jones is:
Ahmad Jones - Vocals
Tena Jones - Vocals
Tim Stewart - Lead Guitar
Gailybird - Violin
Albert Parker - Bass
Derrick Calloway - Percussion

What You Want (The Ringleader Album Version) - DJ Maj And 4th Avenue Jones

Game-Changing Ways

2008-10-28T07:14:00.003-09:30

I was just playing around. I'm actually supposed to be finish a paper due in an hour.

I'm looking forward to seeing someone collab.

Daily I meditate on my game-changing ways
Like the aim, distance and range for mind-blowing plays
I might be playing, but still I'm saying, gotta go hard with the pen
Because even if I don't succeed, this Bic will try again.
I like the surprise of the crowd and weight of my words
Lyrically heavy-lifting with the purpose it serves.
Sometimes bars aren’t enough, I need a dash of def poetic
Drop bombs on stages and scales, I'm talking metric.
I’ll take a break and just pretend that I’m on a verbal gameshow
Then brush off the smile, and “Go Buck For The Angels”.
Heaven is where I wanna be, I’m Donell Jonesin’ for that residence
And it concerns me so much more, than the choice for our future president
This world is ill and fractured, I keep my mind about my craft
Make sure every line is nice and precise, but slightly daft.
Still, can’t ignore what’s all around me, I’m in, not of its jacked-up ways
So daily, I meditate on my game-changing ways.

New "We Are The World"?

2008-10-23T07:03:00.005-09:30

I know that I've been posting nothing but vids for the past few posts. However, I just got this one in an email, and I actually got shivers while watching it. My own personal views may not line up seamlessly with the ticker at the bottom of the video, and I do believe that there is quite a bit of media bias that exists (which makes me take everything I hear on the news with a pretty hefty grain of salt). However, I love that people are getting involved, getting passionate, getting IN IT.

My Vlog!

2008-10-22T17:18:00.002-09:30

I think this accurately describes what I've done so far as a twentysomething. I'm not ashamed of it. As a matter of fact, I think it further inspires me to do more.

Don't hate. Just wish you were young again.

Weekends + Technology + Friends = Foolishness

2008-10-11T07:26:00.004-09:30

There really isn't a good reason why. I wish I had one. The only answer I have is...*shrugs shoulders*.

I guess I'm trying to enjoy my youth before reality, Sallie Mae and Uncle Sam rape my soul/wallet.

I won't be mad if you comment.

What It's Like To Date An R.A.

2008-10-08T02:43:00.004-09:30

I didn't see this coming.

I mean, I knew that she wanted to be an RA. Even when she was a prayer leader on Dorm 5-1, she'd talk about going through the application process, which I imagine is the Liberty University version of applying to be on MTV's Real World.

I guess in the back of my mind, I had something different in mind.

"Think about it. Your girlfriend is going to be an R.A.! There are countless selfish ways for this to benefit you! You'd be untouchable. The Liberty Way doesn't apply to you! This is diplomatic immunity redefined!"

Sadly, I was mistaken. Not only did the LUWay still ferociously still apply to me, but there was a greater demand of obeying them. But that wouldn't be a problem, right?

Wrong. Oh, so sadly wrong.

3-second hugs? Reduced to one second.
No kissing policy? Not even those gay little "penguin" kisses.
Rated R? Try racy rated PG-13 movies, starring Ryan Reynolds or Dave Chappelle, which coincidentally only leaves an assortment of Hugh Grant and Kate Hudson movies. (Honestly, "American Dreamz" only made me giggle at best.)

It's not like I had to change my whole set-up. I mean, hugging? Psht. Who needs that crap. Kissing? That stuff is for the kids. Instead, we like simply stare at each other, daydreaming about finally politely kissing on our wedding day (if it's in God's will, that is. After all, He does kinda have final say-so). And rated R movies? I don't even like the stuff. Even if Chappelle's Show is groundbreaking comedy and "300" is a monolith of testosturone.

At least that's what I heard.

However, I do find it funny how the minor things stay the same. Hanging with friends have the same zing it used to.

Friend 1: "Hey, Nick, wanna hang out tonight, possibly do something illegal involving firecrackers and Da Ihopz?"
Friend 2: "Dude, he can't. Britt's an RA, remember?"
Me: "Hey...I can hang out..."
Friend 2: "You can't. Don't worry, it won't be much fun any ways...*snickers, walking away*..."
Me: "Oh. Okay...well...I'll just...watch 'Scrubs' or something...."

See? Still one of the cool off-campus kids. (That Dr.Dorian is such a rascally little devil.)

I used to think I had it bad, but a 12 o'clock curfew is nothing compared to RA Lock-Down.

RA Lock-Down is where the RA's on the hall are allowed no freedom outside of classes, convo and CFAW's. Which will suck when "The Dark Knight" comes to the dollar theater.
_________________________________________________________________

On a more serious note, I knew what I was getting into. To be an RA is the most demanding leadership position a resident student can have on campus, and while I may not be directly playing the part, I see first-hand how much energy and time and prayer goes into it. For personal reasons, I doubt my own ability to be able to be a good RA (emphasis on good), but I think that Brittney handles it with amazing grace and ease. I gladly accept the role of dating an RA, supporting her and praying with and for her and her hall - even if she can't join us to see "Forgetting Sarah Marshall". Because I would never watch that filth.

*uncrosses fingers*

What If This Works?

2008-10-02T08:16:00.003-09:30

I stoled this from Stereohyped, and I agree. Don't vote, like Leo said.

It's nice to see that the superstars are getting all involved and such. It's so nice.

On His Grind...

2008-09-30T07:04:00.004-09:30

In the past two days, I've gotten three calls from the Obama headquarters, making sure that I:

am registered to vote, and
am registered to vote for Obama.

Now, I know about all the implications that this election has. I saw the debate (and I thought it was crazy funny how he slipped up on McCain's name like 14times.), and I have reservations about Palin, but...Jeebus. Clawd hab merceh, these folks are on my back like a doggone tax collector!

I'd be careful with that, having experience in the telephonic marketing field.

Do Da Homie (no homo)

2008-09-22T18:44:00.007-09:30

Who's your homie?

Like, for real. Who is your undeniable, ride-or-die, do anything for, better/worst half?

We all have them, ladies and fellas alike. Homies, peeps, dunnies, potnas, nigs, brothas, comrades, et cetera. That one person that you know you can call at a whim if there is someone 'round the way that needs a beat down. That person who people confuse you with, even though you are both clearly not identical in any facet. That particular individual that your family doesn't particularly favor, but you could swear was a long-lost sibling. Oh, you remember now! Yeah, that person.

What's that person like?

I'm lucky enough to have two. Let's call them...Yellow Cake and Piff.

First up is YC.
I've known this brother since I was in OshKosh B'Gosh, sippin' on Similac. We went to the same church growing up, and I guess he's been the one time-tested friend. A lot of the times, he's been something like my conscience. Me, I guess I'm something like a counselor-in-training. And I don't mind at all. YC's simply a fun loving person, almost always willing to provide laughs. A true homie. Here's a quick story:

On one particular sunny day in one of the summers of our teenage years, we were at yet another cookout. Everything a growing boy would ever want: lemonade, kool-aid, biscuits, hot dogs, yada yada yada. People were all over the place, having a merry time. The group of my lifelong friends were there, who we shall call the Fantastic Four (which consisted of me, YC, Bizarro and Spears). I had a not-so-secret crush on Spears, but it was a relaxed atmosphere, so I wasn't really "on".
Somehow, we started this really sadistic game that involved hitting each other.

It made no sense then, and it makes no sense now.

Anyway, Spears starts chasing me to hit me. Naturally, she get me, so I turn around to hit her back. Only I decide that it'd be pretty funny to kick her in the butt. I thought it was a good idea.

The kick was successful, but I somehow forgot that she'd want to hit me back. She starts chasing me, and as I turn to run away from her with the graceful speed of a gazelle...I run into a tree. A big tree. A freaking HUGE tree. I fell over, landed in some dirt (some of which coincidentially flew into my eye) and started praying that no one saw...

Remember how I said that people were all over the place? Yeah. So...yeah. EVERYONE IN ATTENDANCE saw it, and laughed at me. And my best friend? Standing with the masses, laughing, while pointing his finger.

Yep. Love that kid.

And then there's Piff.

This brother ::shakes head::...

You know how everyone has the voices in their head?
There's one voice that says "I know that you want to skip class today, but you really need to go. The amount of money that you pay in this place? Shoot...you'd better attend class, dummy."
There's another voice that says, "Eff classes, eff school, eff yo' mutha-effin' degree. Nigga, let's hit up the mall, get some numbers and allow me to spank dat ace in some Madden."

Piff is the latter. He is the Id to my SuperEgo, the evil guy on my shoulder, and I am his conscience. We met in high school, over the affections of a particular female, who just happened to be his boo at the time. Somehow, our personalities clicked.

Now, I pride myself, to a certain extent, on being a pretty rebellious character. I like going with the flow, and enjoying the ride. But I have an off button. I know when to stop. My sense of right and wrong dominates most of my decisions. Piff? Not so much. Imagine me, with less inhibitions, more wrong, less right, hopped on Mary Jane and ginseng. That's Piff. And I love that dude like my own flesh and blood. There are so many stories that I can bring up, but I'll just choose one:

Once again, in the days of yesteryear, we were in class. I think it was an English class. It was snowing outside, and I was probably day-dreaming or something. Suddenly, my peripheral vision kicks in, and I see him, wielding a snowball. (Later, I would find out that he went to the bathroom, for the sole purpose of getting said snowball.) Before I could do anything about it, he launches the snowball dead. at. my. face.

I wasn't mad yet. Somehow encouraged to play along (IN ENGLISH CLASS), I run to the window, scoop up a handful of snow and before I can throw the snowpile, I hear, "NICHOLAS! GO TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!"

My response? Years before I heard of Oh Hell Nawl, I said, "DISBS!"

Oh, I said it. I was heated. I was mad as hale. How'd I get in trouble, being the victim? I naturally threw your typical teenage tantrum. I think in the process, she ends up sending him down to the bench too.

However, once we got there, we started laughing about it. I don't know how. If they decided to call home, I would be getting in trouble. And here I was laughing about it.

And we still laugh about it.

These two fellas are my closest friends, and it gets hard to understand why or how sometimes. I think they give me balance, a good place between stability. Together, they can't let me get too serious or freak out too much. They also cannot let me shrug anything off without first letting me know how stupid it was in the first place.

So again I ask, who are your homies?

Love Musings #3

2008-09-18T06:16:00.004-09:30

I really like my iTunes/iPod.

Really. I do. I mean, I might complain about it when it freezes, threaten to blow it away with a shotgun whenever it decides to update at a time when it's really not appreciated, but at the end of the day, I really like my computer.

And I'd better. I spent a good portion of the money on it, money that could have probably went towards the car that I still don't have.

In this declared admiration for my technology, I realize that this expands further than its operational capabilities. I use iTunes on my computer, but I use my computer for more than that. Microsoft Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Publisher, Adobe Acrobat, Photoshop, and I can't forget all the goodies that came pre-installed, like the calculator, games (all Solitare fiends know what I'm talking about) and the like. There is more to my computer than my favorite application.

I recently came across another issue in the fickle tendencies of love.

When in relationships, we tend to capitalize on the traits that we particularly favor. And that makes sense, looking at it objectively. I'm not going to jump through hoops for someone who's favorite tv show is a blatant insult against intelligence. I won't go ga-ga for a lady who would rather do her make-up than play some ball.

My particular cup of tea? A couple of things:

Honest to God conversations. Easy conversation. Just plain-ol'-talking. I love it. I LOVE IT. It really makes my heart flutter, peeking inside a ladyface's brain (as confusing as it may get).
Writing. I grew up being that kid that was always being compared and contrasted to Steve Urkel...until I discovered poetry. I truly believe that the written word was what God decided to give to me, in the stead of verticale growth and being smooth-n-slick with the ladies. Writing is all I have, all I know, all I am. I am synonomous with poetry. And if she can do that too? Aw yeah...

And while I may love those things in my lady, if I love her like I say I do, I have to see more than her than what tworks my buttons.

The question posed to me was this: If she no longer wrote, would I still love her?

As much as I bleed, sweat and cry prose, my love for her is so much more than what is on a page/blog/notebook. I can't limit how I feel for her to what we have in common.

Kind of like loving God/God's love for us. It's more than when He helps us pay rent or pass that exam. God is bigger than what He may or may not do for us. Loving her is more than what "that thing" is.

And my computer still has Windows Media Player, right?

Blood and Bone: A True Savior

2008-08-28T12:01:00.006-09:30

Hollywood's Jesus was lame.

Now, I don't know if I should be putting "lame" and "Jesus" in the same sentence, but in any event, I think that the Jesus that we see on TV and old movies is pretty disappointing.

We always see the same guy, with the same English accent and the same soul-man gotee and the same shaggy hairstyle. Boooo-ring.

Now, know that I write this with an open mind, but I am firm in my belief in the omnipotence of Jesus Christ. All the same...I would like to see a movie that depicted Jesus as something more. Let's step away from the age-old debate on whether Jesus was white/black/Jewish/Mary's baby daddy.

I wanna see Jesus fart. I wanna see Jesus take out a wedgie. I wanna see how Jesus sounds when he sneezes. I want to see a really good scene of Jesus going completely BUCKWILD on some fools (Matthew 21:12-13). Basically, I want to see a real picture of Christ, without placing emphasis on the petty stuff. I'm not saying to ignore his divinity, but...don't ignore his humanity either. That's what makes his story so compelling, at least to me. He was All God and All Man. He chatted with God and sipped tea with the homies. He performed miracles on the daily, but was pretty much homeless. Jesus battled demons...and lame politicians.

Tell me that ain't on some ol' Rosa Parks meets Gandhi mess!

Honestly though, funny-ness aside. We know Jesus was the Son of God. Therefore, He already has some status on his shoulders. My whole argument is simply this: We need to stop being scared of Big Bad Jesus. As if he walks around, wielding a thunderbolt on his hip, like a Divine Gat. When he came down and was borne of Man...it was exactly that. He didn't do it, just to show, "Look what I can do!". He became one of us, walked among us, ate with us, was MAN. Oh, don't get it twisted, he could've shifted gears into Holiest of Holies in a split second. He could've reminded us that He Was God.

But what kind of love keeps reminded you IN YOUR FACE that its better than you?

"Oh yeah, I'm Jesus. Yeah, I'm going to die for you, but I am God. So...yeah. You'd better pay your tithes."

Wrong. WRONG.

Part of the main emphasis is on his LOVE for us. (The other part is raising hisownself from the grave...but that's for another blog in and of itself...yeesh. Talk about gangsta...)

Besides, having created us and everything, you'd think he'd want to know what the hubbub was all about, right?

So, I end this blog by saying that Spike Lee and that Jewish Guy from "Knocked Up" and "Pineapple Express" should get together and start shooting this puppy. Because it is truly the Greatest Story Ever Told.

Also, all should try to read "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff". You might understand where I got the inspiration for this post.

Yup. A list again.

2008-08-19T06:09:00.003-09:30

I stole this from Kitten Issacs...(sorry for stalking.). I guess this is my official re-entry into college/the norm. Feel free to steal from me, though.

my favorite Food= I could make this so sexually explicit. But I won't. Because you'd be expecting it. I don't really have a favorite food. But I would murder some cheesecake.

my favorite Artist= I've actually got quite a few, but hands down, without even thinking about it, it would have to be 4th Avenue Jones. I would do anything to go to a live show, or even to visit them on a Sunday afternoon, after church, and watch some football.

my favorite Vegetable= Ick.

my favorite Online website= It'd probably be a tie between the online comic "Least I Could Do" and the igtelligant spectacular "Oh Hell Nawl" blog.

my favorite Recipe= Anything that I can come up with in the kitchen. Seriously, it's almost always an adventure.

my favorite Ice cream= Lemon Sherbet. Or Moose Tracks.

my favorite Topic= Anything worth thinking/talking about. But, after a semester in DC, I'm kinda tired of talking about politics. I figure it's a lost cause, but it's still worth a good try. Oh, and those famous "N-Word" debates. Love those.

my favorite Exercise= It's been a while, but second to push-ups, it'd be running after the morning bus to school.

my favorite Scripture= "For I am full of words, the Spirit within me compels me..."-Job 32:18022

The BreakDown Pt.2

2008-08-18T07:50:00.004-09:30

Life/Lord:

When people enter college, the plan usually is as follows:

Meet new people
Learn new things
Have sex with a member of the opposite sex from every continent
Gain/Lose weight
Master the Art of Procrastination
Graduate in 4 years

So far, I've met some amazing people, friends that I hope to have for the rest of my life. And I've learned so many more thing that I was never aware of. (For example, did you know that ___________ when the _________, you might see _________ in ___________ with the Matrix? Yeah. Go figure.) Thanks to my naivete and conscious, I still haven't gone so far as to have sex with a girl in North America, much less any other continent. I have lost weight. I have gained weight. Then I lost it and gained it again. Right now, it's in an odd balance that I hope is the worst it'll every get. And because I'm so good at procrastinating, I'm squeezing four years of college into five.

You read right.

Naturally, my ego is taking quite a beating for that one. Most/all of my friends that I've graduated with...have graduated. I know that it's no big deal, but my insides start to convulse whenever I have to explain the situation, which is interesting. (Aside from being an idiot for my freshmen year, I took my internship in DC, which took me off campus for one of my senior semesters. I also made the age-old mistake/decision to change my major, or at least my concentration in the middle of my senior year. So...yeah.)
I'm not letting it get me down too bad, and while I do regret skipping all those classes...it's happened for a reason. I am a full believer in God's utter and complete control over everything in existence. I'm in this position for a reason. My whole circumstance right now testifies to this.

For example, while working at kamp this summer, I've had a number of what I consider to be truly divine moments. I've had dreams in the past, before I've ever even heard of Kids Across America. These dreams, at the moment, would be completely ambiguous, and I'd toss it aside. However, as I come to kamp, some of these dreams would start to get lived out. I don't mean that they were these dreams with secret meanings and whatnot: I had a dream once where I was talking to someone, and they were crying. This person was wearing a blue shirt, and it was raining outside. This summer, at kamp, I had a kid in my cabin who was really homesick. He slept on the bunk above me, and I was trying to console him. And it was a thunderstorm.

I don't know what to make of that kind of event. But I can't ignore it. I don't mean for this to mean that I'm going to end up being some kind of Indiana Jones or something...but situations like that have happened WAY too many times this summer to ignore it. This has just gone to show me that God is truly directing my steps. The path leading to my working at KAA is a broken road, and for it to lead to an abstract dream coming true...something is definitely happening beyond what my eye can see.