Well, my 1st show wasn’t as bad as I would’ve anticipated but it wasn’t as great as I had hoped. I have quite a bit of work to do to reach my goals still, but I was glad to have some feedback from judges and an audience to point me in the right direction. The judges told me I looked like I was going through the motions which I guess I was it was late the sold out crowd had already left. They also told me they see the talent in me but I acted like I didn’t know I was good and doubted myself. I think the problem is my talents still exceed my beliefs(as crazy as that might sound, but we all contradict each ourselves so whatever). I know I have skills, but like everything else in my life I second guess myself, but whatever. Well I wasn’t too angry before, but man it made me mad when he said “you act like you didn’t know you’re good.” I got props from the DJ: “The acapella was impeccable!” And a clearer picture of where I’m at in this music thing.I can objectively say I didn’t hear a better song than the 1.5 I performed. Well I need to keep filling my head with ‘positive thinking’ quotes and videos of perseverance. All this tells me is I’ve become entitled. I didn’t think I was above coming out flat to this event but I had hoped I could make my 1st live performance an amazing one. Something that takes people years to perfect, I expected to kill on the 1st try. O well, back to the drawing board!!!
People underestimate the crack epidemic on the black community and the ramifications of negligent drug policies. Here Killer Mike aka Mike Bigga breaks down the harsh realities of having a mother, a guardian, a relative addicted to a powerful substance. Through it all he was able to make it through and become successful at something few people could hope to achieve. That’s why I was always a fan of the dungeon family, killer Mike(Mike Bigga) OUtkast, goodie Mob et al. They represent the true story of Atlanta, and to a greater extent, the human experience of people. They form a collective of talented individuals with unique styles and talents but still represented Hip-Hop to the fullest. One could listen to Mike, Outkast, goodie mob, cee-lo and them and get a feel for the south. Now we got these ………………….oh never mind just read the post. I promise a well-written and inspirational read to those who do. Peace.
My Thoughts on Mothers, Sons, Love & Addiction by Mike Bigga
That B.B. King lyric cuts deep! I grew up in the crack era. I grew up
�in the actual crack era, not the one you always hear rappers rap about
where they were all rich and knew Pablo, Papi, Hector or some other
random Spanish name that fits to make the bar rhyme.
Bullshit, BTW.
I grew up watching men and women fall from descent, working viable
people to zombie-like shells of themselves. I watched TV as former
President Reagan and his self-righteous wife said, “Just say no,” and
created the false “drug war” that was really just a war on Black boys
and men, the poor and the addicted.
In the “trap” we called these unlucky people who suffered from the
illness of addiction J’s (short for junkies). As the CIA and Reagan’s
man Oliver North allowed cocaine in the US (Iran-Contra), unskilled and
skilled labor jobs left the country and cocaine became the alternative
economy for urban areas. Little boys became household breadwinners and
lots of mothers became addicts.
Within these children, deep-seated cynicism began to creep in and
fester like a cancer. The drugs that turned once decent folks into
desperate sick addicts, willing to sacrifice what dignity they had in
exchange for a drug, had a parallel effect on the community; it turned
sellers into cynics void of compassion and sympathy. The same family
members you loved and would give you school money were now shells of
their former selves.
I connected with Jay-Z’s music more because of a story he shared about his shooting brother on “You Must Love Me.”�
�Whenever I listened, I remember having my “bomb” (package of rocks)
stolen by a dear family friend, Eric. I can still smell the
gasoline-filled bottles I prepared as I sat at the stop sign waiting for
�the lights to go out in Eric’s mother’s house. I remember seeing his
mom and her live-in, mentally-challenged boarders and him go in the
house.
I remember Rodney “J,” a good and decent man once, now sadly just a
“J” walking up and asking me for a sack. I remember the puzzled look on
his face when he said, “Fat boi, what’s wrong? Why you ain’t smiling?
You’re always smiling.”
Then, I remember the look as he noticed the smell of gas and saw the
four freshly filled bottles with gas and sugar in them and realized I
wanted PAY BACK! I saw a sadness in him like none I had ever seen from
him. He had known Eric had stolen from me and he knew I was gonna get
pay back.
Rodney, in that moment, dropped the “J” and was just an older Black
man schooling an angry and misguided child. With all the moral fortitude
�he could muster he sternly said, “Fat Boi, what are you doing, man?
Son, you cannot do that.”
He told me there are innocent folks in there, and he reminded me that
�he, Eric and even my mom were sick. They all had the same disease and
one day I will look back at this and it will not be as important. He was
�right. That moment is below petty, and I was just a stupid, angry kid
about to throw my life away for 2k in drugs!
I wish I could say that after Rodney took the cocktails and high
tailed it, all was good and I learned my lesson and became a better me. I
�didn’t. After Rodney took the gas-filled glass grenades, I waited on
Eric for two days, I caught him, and I beat him up pretty badly. I
dragged him the front yard for the neighborhood to see, and I wanted
every “J” to know you cannot steal from me. I wanted the other dealers
to see you will not take advantage of me. I did it in my mom’s front
yard because I knew, somewhere deep in me, she was involved. Her
addiction had made her party to this theft. I knew that I could not hit
her, so I punished Eric with all the 18-year-old strength I had.
I sent him away to DeKalb Medical broken and bleeding.
I left my humanity there in that yard alongside his blood. I left my
sympathy and compassion there, I abandoned my humanity. I killed part of
�me that day. I killed the boy that loved and trusted his mother. I
killed lil’ Michael who always honored Denise because I knew her
addiction and bipolar disorder would be the death of her and possibly me
�if I didn’t.
I am glad for the time God gave me a healthy, honorable and engaging
mother, even if it was only a few short years. I hope one day my
mother’s mental illness and the illness of disease will loose her from
their vise grip, but my self-defense is cynicism and in reality I doubt
it. I guess what I’m saying is I accept her. I know she is broken and
will more than likely die because her kidneys have failed and she now
lives only because of dialysis due to years of drug abuse and hard
living.
But she’s mine.
She is the mother I was given and I’m thankful for her regardless.
She’s my mother. She died for a few minutes while having me at 16, and
she says something of her got left on the other side, and all the
goodness she had left she put in me. So I’m fighting, girl, I’m fighting
�to foster that good and retain my humanity. It’s hard but I’mma do
this. I have to for her grandchildren, my children. I have to be fully
open to all emotions for them.
I cannot blame these folk for being fun-loving partiers; they like
the current users of X, oxy, syrup, etc. They had no idea what kind or
turmoil cocaine and crack would do. Cocaine was an atomic bomb that
wiped away our collective moral compass. If they were able to see
face-to-face 20 years ahead, maybe they would have opted out of the
80s/90s party scene. Maybe women like my mom, young business
owners/mothers would have put a lot more time into their biz and kids,
less into their friends and the social scene. Maybe, just maybe, my life
�and the lives of countless other early 30s folk would be different.
We used to watch The Cosby Show and envy those kids with two
�parents, dinners together, money without crime, fun without drugs. I am
�determined to forgive my mother for leading a wasteful life and get
back on the path of good with her. I am more determined to be a whole
human being for Malik, Aniyah, Pony Boy and Michael.
Kids of the ‘80s and ‘90s, it’s time to forgive and let go.
We have to be what our generation’s adults were not. We gotta be more
�like the Cosby’s and less like us rappers. We have to reclaim our
humanity by releasing this hate that is in us and being open to love.
Love your people—imperfections and all. I forgive my mother, not for
hurting me or my sisters and her own mom and dad, I forgive her for
hurting herself. I know she’s still sick, I know it will probably be the
�death of her. I know she has betrayed me many times, but I also know
she loves me… and she ain’t jiving… she’s just sick. In honor of mothers
�and sons everywhere, people fighting with addictions keep fighting. You
�can win!
It’s Bigga.
Fin!
BONUS: “All for You (Niecy’s Song)” [Produced by Cool & Dre] Off Monster, 2003
Yes. Happy 4/20 day. The only day that law abiding citizens smoke up in protest to the ridiculous restrictive drug laws we put up with everyday. Nah, just kidding. If you smoke weed, more than likely you smoke it regardless of 4/20 or not. I don’t smoke it because it does nothing for me for some reason. Maybe I’m not a competent smoker I don’t know. But I do know a lot of people get arrested for weed. Why I guess money. But I have to go along with the proponents of legalizing weed and taxing it. I mean this law would be no different than allowing alcohol(an industry which is worth 155 billion dollars according to the Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders Society) to be legal. Though weed has been proven to be more harmful to one’s lungs than cigarettes. I still feel legalizing the drug will take power away from the drug kingpins. Not the ones who rap about all the money they allegedly made from selling drugs, but the real Noriega’s. Ya know? But anyway, I’m not gonna write too much because I know people are going to be out there lighting up for democracy. So take care peace. Signing out.
If you haven’t seen it Please know what you are about to see is really revolting.
Edit: This video is censored because the original was taken down.<br><br>
I just had to post this just to show you what people do when they thought few people were looking. I hope Domino’s can bounce back from this humiliation and hopefully this particular Domino’s can make adjustments in their hiring practices. The female employee featured in the video is a convicted sex offender. Not saying people shouldn’t get a second chance, but ….um I don’t want no pervs touching mah FOOD!!!!
But there is some relief (and not the kind put on your salami) and consolation. The two have been arrested and are awaiting trial. And here is a response from Domino’s.
This is a question of integrity, hygiene, and morality. Unfornately people do things when they think noone’s looking. I just hope everybody learns from this situation. The poor owner of the restaurant and the unfornate person who ate that food. Also the perpatrators of these deeds. I hope they serve jail time. Preferably 6 months in jail or something along those lines, for wreckless endangerment. Not an attorney don’t know what you would call their crimes necessarily but something. Ya know? lol Peace out.
People getting robbed and killed for no reason again
Here is the new story that got me going. Sad and angry all the same.
Here is a story of a restaurant worker getting killed after complying with the assailants.
Here is another story of violence committed by the police.
Enough is enough. My brother’s been robbed and everybody I know who’s lived in Atlanta has been robbed in some capacity. I have no real solution. I’m just purchasing a gun. You deserve death if you rob from me or mine. I wanna say Peace out like I normally do. But some times peace brings you nothing but labels of weakness. And perceived weakness can make you an easy target unfortunately. I say death to all thieves. I have no remorse for those who would steal from any person making an honest living. Till next time good night.
I wish I had finished this earlier, for I have predicted a few things which have already come true. For example:
I knew Fedor would beat Arlovski at Affliction Day of Reckoning. I didn’t know how. But I predicted the fight would probably not make it out of the 1st round. And I was right.
Ok. I predict African Origins will be one of the most prominent and dominant emcees in Southern Hip Hop history this year. It’s gonna happen. Trust me.
And oh yeah. I predict a Great Depression II.
Peter Schiff predicts housing bubble and recession:
Ron Paul, Peter Schiff, Nouriel Roubini predicted this recession which the Mainstream Media denied for 2 years. And low and behold we have a recession. Now the same people are predicting a Depression if Government keeps up the bail out strategy.
We’ve become a consumer nation as opposed to a nation which produces. After outsourcing all the manufacturing jobs overseas. Americans consume a lot more than they produce all on credit. So now it’s time to pay. Oops, there’s no real money.
The government(Bush and more recently Obama administration) believes certain entities are too big to fail. Wallstreet got a 750+ Billion dollar bail out while the auto industry has to have hearings sell their private jets etc etc. Experts(the ones whom predicted this predicament) believe the market will correct itself. Housing will come back to it’s actual value as opposed to inflated prices. Companies dying can die and rebuild or die and spring new companies elsewhere. But the GOVT will not allow this to happen. Prolonging the process. So bad assets stay companies that should’ve failed remain and they will fail again and ask for more bail out money.
C U all later. I’m working on new stuff, so stay tuned. You can contact me on my myspace. Till next time. I’ll try to have more solutions for you; I need more research though. Peace.
What’s up folks. This is a post from my myspace. Check it out. I’m getting sloppy I know but when was I ever clean.
Let me just say I’m no expert on the art of Business or the skill and grind it requires to hustle. In fact I’m pretty atrocious at both. But my people I know a business when I see it. I know a good hustle when I see it. In this life I think too many people don’t know the distinct differences between the two. You need to hustle to run a business. But a business requires a certain respectability and product or service integrity to go along with it. A lot of people in this music business get a tax id, get a llc, or even inc and say they’re running a business. But you call them, but can never reach them. Or you call them and when the pick up they say things like I might forget to call you back so please go to this website or get my email and…etc etc etc.
When you are in business it is not just about working harder than the next person, it’s also about respecting your potential clients, maybe supporters/customers, or fans. You can’t treat people like you are doing them the biggest service in the world. I mean just by answering a phone call some people get on the phone with a bad attitude.(leave that to government run businesses et al the post office, voter registrations office, etc) And this trend is actually being made real by larger corporations. So in all fairness it’s not just the music industry. Hell, walk into Walmart you’ll get the same treatment there. My parents have been running a business for at least 14 years and if they had acted like I’ve seen some of these ‘companies’ act they wouldn’t have lasted 14 months. I mean really.
Peace.
For more vain ranting and bloviating go to African Origins@My Space thanks for checking me out in advance. Feedback is appreciated.
What’s up? How’s it going? Bonjour. Hola. Hey. Hello. Umpendeve. I got back from a trip to New Yorkattending my brother’s graduation in New Jersey. Trip was about a 14.5 hour drive from Marietta, GA.
All the states we traveled had a distinct atmosphere or even culture about them. Tennessee looked country; even more country than Georgia. D.C. was a strange place. D.C. had two sides to it. On one hand D.C. had the federal buildings with beautiful construction. And on the other it had run down poor looking side of town. The run down was just 20 minutes away from the federal building, allowing me to easily compare and contrast. Philadelphialooked pretty gutter. But the traffic we experienced was reminiscent of Atlanta.
However the biggest change didn’t take place until I got into the state of New York. As soon as I got there people were trying to cut me off. There was a lot of honking a lot of swearing behind the wheel. People seemed in a rush all the time and had to let you know. You have to hustle in Atlanta, but not like this. I have been living in Georgiafor almost 20 years. After New York I realized I’d been taking the Southern hospitality thing for granted. Yeah this is a cold world but at least in the South the people are somewhat cordial and polite with you. Drivers aren’t so short-tempered. It isn’t as smelly as New York City. To be fair I was only there for a few days. And I didn’t get to see it all, however, I felt like I’ve seen enough. There looked like even more ‘racial/ethnic diversity‘ than I’ve seen in Atlanta(and that means a lot). I liked the mass transit system there much better than the one in Atlanta. But, I’m still gonna have to go with the A(ATLANTA for those who don’t know). No knock against NYC (NEW YORK), but this has been my home away from home for years. Maybe I’ll go back there and we can continue this compare and contrast. Until then, take care. Love & Peace. And I especially loveyou Georgia. ha ha
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