Detail of The School of Athens by Raffaello Sanzio, 1509, showing Plato (left) and Aristotle (right) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
“Another defect at Sparta is the state of the public finances. The treasury is empty, while the state is compelled to wage major wars; and the taxes are not properly paid. Most of the land is in the hands of citizens, and [as the taxes fall on land] none of them looks at all closely at another man’s payments. The effect of the Spartan system is here the reverse of beneficial: it has reduced the state to penury while encouraging private avarice. This may serve as an account of the Spartan constitution, and these are the defects which are particularly open to censure.”
One of the greatest human beings to ever live. MLK jr is etched into our collective memories because he represents the brighter side of humanity and one of the most revered martyrs for civil rights and American Democracy. We as human beings value martyrs because they give the ultimate sacrifice: Life. It is the 1st commodity that we inherit and learn to value as humans. Life is also the most precious possession of all living creatures, and it is unusual to give it up for those who are not in our bloodline or considered close to it. We try our best to shelter it, we guard it, we try to prolong it as much as possible. Which is why the act of self-sacrifice is strange to us, but it also fascinates and inspires us. The word martyrdom is normally a literal martyrdom like the Jesus Christ story or the most commonly used definition, a figurative martyrdom describing a sincere arduous devotion to something/someone other than yourself. Or in rarer cases martyrdom can refer to both a literal and figurative definition.
When describing a figurative definition of martyrdom think of firefighters, your parents, the men and women in uniform etc. Think of what you would do for another human being or any living creature in need. Some of us donate money, time, some of us effort(sweat equity, physical labor), or some of us all three, but what about everything? I give to charity when I have it, but not enough that would hurt me. My time? I give to things that would benefit those in my bloodline or myself (truthfully it’s usually myself and if you’re honest more than likely you are THE SAME). I haven’t physically sacrificed my blood as of yet. But, I would like to think I would give it up for a loved one or a stranger in some act of heroism to display my vague commitment to an even vaguer ideal of human unity. But of the various types of sacrifice I have yet to answer a call as costly as Martin Luther King Jr’s. The closest I’ve come to such selflessness is in my dedication to music or the pursuit of money. If there’s any sacrifice all people achieve in life it’s in the pursuit of money or other shiny things like fame or prestige or whatever. “I have given my life” completely to both music and money. Less so to money but that will probably be changing soon unless I want to end up homeless. But like most things we humans do, the ends justify the means, and for selfish reasons. Think about when you try to stomp on a roach what does it do, or imagine a herd of wilder beasts anticipating danger? You probably guessed it, a natural trigger of fight or flight response(thanks National Geographic). A flight to guard one’s life or a fight to protect life. That’s what makes the givers the admired. The sacrificed the memorialized. This is why I join many others around the world in honoring the legend the man Martin Luther King Jr.
I wrote a song called Lucid Dream finished it late last year but never really shared it with anyone. It’s because I’ve become very conflicted with this song. It’s called Lucid Dream. It’s about shaping this life to fit your imagination and desired plans, purpose……….
I don’t know if I feel that way nowadays. So much is out of control, so much is given to misfortune or good fortune, sometimes it feels like you just prepare for the best and plan for the worst- that’s it………………………………………..
I hate these type of thoughts! Maybe I hate reality LOL! Is that what it all comes down to? “Hope for the best pray for the worst?” It’s real. But what are most of us doing to increase our chances at success or economic repair? I believe our capability as humans is far reaching and I know of history’s luminaries and the not so illustrious who have succeeded after years of failure. But sometimes, sometimes….sometimes……………………………………………………..you just need time to recharge.
Here’s the song for those who stumble upon this page.
Lyrics
I live ina lucid dream feel the breeze as I venture/
through a blurry scene/
autonomy in this dimension/
I see it all clear with eyes closed/
I forego the drudgery the monotony the panicking hypocrisy/
No more violence just a silencing/
As I stroll through the peace/
The quiet ambiance my transport till I find my release/
I can touch the cosmos celestial bodies without angel wings/
TO think they can say my visions are the stuff that’re made of make believe/
mabye that’s why they sleep on me and do not see me seriously/
Lend ears to the blind, hearts to the frauds and try to live vicariously/
Me I’m in the twilight while they all wonder wearily with my head in the clouds throught turbulent skies as the music carries me/
Away from the trance at the hands of the sand man, I dream but I don’t sleep/
I view a plane to sustain my glance, control my destiny/
I do it all before silent night/
I fit the world to my insights/
The saddest part about most of y’all /
most of yall will never try….
2nd Verse
I see 4 walls one ceiling one floor there’s no clocks but one door nobody knows where I’ve gone/
Time waves every second/
Calender pages leave men breathless/
But in my mind the world stretches/
I can raise my reach to heaven/
I await the noble thief, body-snatcher that brings me peace/
The accomplice to my escape, my only hope a lucid dream/
Gives me patience when there’s no ventillation for me to breath/
See there’s no suffocation where I go, room for inhalation where I’ll be/
In a stratosphere where hatred and fear will no long surround me/
And I no longer have to swim with zombies and feel like I am drowning!/
There’s more light than heat, there’s more signal than noise/
If you can hear the shrill calling then I welcome you to join/
My brother told me no man is an island but I avoid the adage/
and I challenge the orthodoxy of the norm/
The unknown doesn’t scare me I’m still alive through the storm/
So you are now unqualified for a webdesign job if you don’t know html 1-5, XML, CSS 1-3, Java, Javascript, JQuery, PHP, Java, C#, Actionscript 1-3(4 coming), MySQL and Ruby on Rails, Adobe Illustrator, and Adobe Photoshop? And even more impressively someone with this skill set is only deserving of $25 MAXIMUM SALARY!!! LOL What the Fuck?!
Another reason I’m whining is because I can’t fit all of this into Twitter but that’s neither her nor there.
What is one to do?
I want to get pissed at employers but if they don’t have resources to hire 3 different experts or professionals, they have little choice but to do this- take the job requirements of 3 positions and squeeze them into one. And of course, this penny-pinching mentality has extended beyond hiring practices. For instance, look at the healthcare field. I know nurses who tell me when a staff member leaves they are not being replaced as they used to do in the past. The hospital administration is leaving the position vacant and asking the nurses and other workers on the floor to take care of more patients. I’ve heard this from my peers who are teachers; school admins are taking the same measures to cut down on spending. O yea, this is why I never bitched and moaned about the economy last year like I did in prior years. I don’t have any frickin solutions! Who does except for the vocal few(Ron Paul, Max Keiser, et al) who are marginalized by less rational voices and opinions(all the people who voted for Newt Gingrich and Romney in the primaries WOW). I believe if Ron Paul ran as a democrat he’d have a much more successful presidential campaign.
I meant to publish this some time ago, but it does have relevance in light of the 9/11 anniversary.
Reactionary vs Purposeful activism. I am no shining model of revolutionary living myself. I am not a warrior on the battlefield against social injustice, I’m not a freedom fighter against enemies of the people. Not to say I am not willing to be all those things, I’m just trying to figure it all out still, I guess. I am not really an activist in any sense of the word either. I am a bleeding heart progressive with lofty vague objectives—I keep an unrequited love for the world that only a romantic could muster. I aspire to see a “better world,” or “make the world a better place,” or better still, “spread love and positivity anywhere I can.” That’s probably why I am so passive in my particular implementation of “activism.” I haven’t defined plans or goals, but it honestly makes me feel good. Watching the recent events in the news concerning the London Riots, and the actions of Anonymous, Lulsec etc, I’ve come to the conclusion that most of these people never have defined goals either. I feel great for donating to causes here and there, feeding the homeless, and signing online petitions but what is the goal of it all? What is the plant? I’ve always felt like every act of altruism is a counter to the evil in the world; I want to feel like I am making a difference no matter the size of the contribution. I truly feel like charity and volunteer work does do good for some people. Many people might call my views delusional, lacking in pragmatism, a very lackadaisical attempt at solving real world issues. But I understand, the truth is no one man or woman can solve all real world issues. It takes a group of like minded individuals to devise a plan to impact society in a productive and purposeful way. Different groups dedicate time, energy, resources, to causes they find the most important. For instance, if a group of people want Congress to repeal an act, or pass an act,(think civil rights, net neutrality, healthcare bill) Who is the audience? How will they receive my message(literally & figuratively)? How does a group appeal to such a governing body?
No matter the cause, people who aspire to bring change need to plan and anticipate the affects of their actions. Let’s look at the Tea party.
I don’t agree with many of the views of the Tea Party, but they were able to change one of the two major political parties in America through an unrelenting grass roots movement. They disassociated from the more rogue elements trying to join their movement (White nationalists, Neo-Nazis, racists, etc) and were able to maintain credibility(relatively) in a public space. Some might say technically they were backed by the very wealthy Koch brothers so maybe they aren’t the best example of a grassroots movement. But money isn’t the issue here it was the methods of public protest. Their public outcries and outreach caught the media’s fascination and spotlight. Their methodology of protest was very similar to that of the civil rights movement and the women’s rights movement. These groups were able to gain traction in the idea marketplace. Just like in business, no one wants to buy what you’re selling if it isn’t presentable. No one wants your services if you aren’t presentable, and no one wants to hear your voice if you cannot present them in a responsible sensible way.
My brother sent me an articlecontaining an interview with a rioter’s response to causes of the chaos. And he said, “if we don’t riot, then you won’t listen to us.” I don’t know the guys age, but I’m guessing he’s very young. He gave a very short answer loaded with meaning to demonstrate a youthful rebellion. This guy may have a political stance, but is misguided in carrying it out. Who will be receptive to his ideas after these events? Who will listen after millions of £’s in damages to small businesses and public services in the surrounding community? If anything, your voice has become more marginalized now then before. You are a rebel without aim; you are a scourge to society; you are not a threat to the establishment you detest, you are a threat to everyone! If you wanted a voice, I know law enforcement will definitely be listening now, that’s for sure. I heard on NPR today an English judge sentenced a young man to 4 years in prison for inciting violence in his own town. Harsh, but once again: Cause and affect.
Watch this video.
This is not an opinion. This is not a position in an argument. This is a visceral simple-minded reaction to complex matters. It will make you feel good (if you get away with it) but it will not and does not help anyone.
Youtube embed:
And I am not saying radical times don’t call for radical measures.
For example, I think if Americans want to gain back autonomy and correct the democratic process from corporate tyranny it will take radical action. I watched a documentary on Ancient Greece which captured what I feel might have to happen worldwide lol. In the documentary a tyrant (a man named Isagoras) pissed off the people of Greece to the point of mass uprisings and fighting, of which forced the regime up a mountain, leading to a more democratic state. The tyrant was exiled and the people chose a new ruler who came up with the first example of modern democracy.
I believe any kind of peace comes from understanding and living with a purpose and duty to yourself and others. And I believe resolve comes from acting with courage and insight. Children act out impulsively when they don’t get what they want.
I stopped blogging in anticipation for this day. I don’t want to be destroyed in the final battle. I don’t want to be thrust into the lake of fire. Alas, my greatest fears have crystallized……I’ve been left behind!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Here, this guy Xenocrates explains why the rapture failed.
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
[Shit I forgot to post this. I was gonna post this on 9/11 forgot to but I saved it on my computer.] I can never forget. 3,000 died 300, million traumatized. Airplanes glide where no bombs could. That was just some random writing I did. I remember I was at my 1st period class Current Affairs sitting in disbelief of what I was witnessing on the news. Then I remember the rumors and the murmuring throughout the hallways on my way to 2nd period. By 2nd period we knew it was not some aviation malfunction, but a coordinated effort; it was definitely a terrorist attack. The rest of the day was filled with shock and horror before it came to anger and vindictiveness.I remember the event like it was yesterday. It’s times like these that force you to remember. Maybe it was the helplessness you felt as an unwilling spectator, maybe it was the evil that day which frightened you out of your mind, or maybe the attacks changed the way you viewed the world and the security of America. Whatever it was I hope you can all remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for others. But my greatest memory after the attacks was the resiliency of the American people. It seemed for a time that there was no stronger bond, and a unity I’d never witnessed before. Everyone had American flags and seemed to forget all the silly trivial things that tend to divide people in a pluralistic society. That was the light in a dark tunnel, the flare in a cloud of smoke to me. That was America at her greatest and most beautiful. I still remember it like it was yesterday.
This post makes me sad typing it. I remember I was in the car being driven to school by my mother I was 14. I was trying so hard not to cry in front of her when they announced on the radio that Tupac died. I succeeded in not crying in front of her, but ended up crying myself to sleep for another week or so. I’m 26 and I feel that same feeling right now lol. Why? I don’t know. I guess it’s a lot like when you lose someone you know and love. That person left you with memories, love, inspiration, and impressions. When you loose a loved one, it’s hard to get over the heartbreak because you know there will never be another one. The same can be said for some popular public figures. Tupac was one of these people. Someone most of his fans never met, but still felt and loved. His presence on the microphone contributed to his aura and his passion made him the object of admiration by listeners of hip hop music the world over. You could sense his anger and desperation in his music, his frustration with the world; at times you could also sense his hopelessness and madness. But you could also see his love for his people and his community. Tupac was a very conscientious individual who felt a range of emotions most MC’s and people in general rarely express. Pac wanted peace in an unjust and violent, cruel, world. It was him against the world. And this world finally caught up to him on September 13, 1996 when he was tragically gunned down at the age of 25. But his memory still lives on through his lyrics and his music. Here are some of the songs that stand out the most to me and illustrate why he is one of the greatest figures Hip Hop has ever known.
I like the Nas version of this song, but I like this version a lot better. This is my favorite Pac song.
African Origins' Weblog 