"No race can prosper until it learns
 there is as much dignity in tilling a field
as in writing a poem.” 
~ Booker T. Washington


In fact, we aren't really into any of the "S" sports. And by "we," I mean "me." 
    Skiing, scuba-diving, sailing, surfing, skydiving: all way too expensive and, well, cold. Add to that waterskiing, sailboarding, kayaking, rafting, rock and mountain climbing…..you see where I'm going with this. I'm sure they are fun, if one had the time and money for such pursuits. But alas, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth. More like with a lead foot in my you-know-what. I do hike, sleep out overnight on the ground (occasionally), swim, run (occasionally), cycle, and play golf (occasionally)and frisbee. And of course basketball (very occasionally). I do know how to row a boat, paddle a canoe, and ride a horse. I am a dead shot with any firearm, a pretty good archer, and won a school letter for fencing. I am was also a Red Cross Certified Life Guard, which means I can swim…..
    Growing up in San Francisco in the Upper Lower Class makes me one of the most fortunate individuals in the World. The more I am exposed to people from other regions of the U.S., the more I realize just how lucky I was that me Mumsie didn't move to L.A.-L.A. Land (Los Angeles) like the rest of her siblings.  The City during the 50's and 60's was the most liberal place in the World, and certainly one of the most beautiful.  It was also extremely wealthy, which meant almost everything “public” was cheap or free. 
    It is today also; the difference is that the people administering the City government Back In The Day actually believed they were civil servants, and that taxpayer revenue should be spent on the taxpayers. As a result, the answer to almost any request for recreation, education, the arts, or the general common good was not "there's no money," but rather, "when and where do you want to do it?" Today, while there are a few well-meaning individuals in municipal government, most are slaves to The Bureaucracy, a Frankenstein's Monster composed of equal parts avarice, redundancy, apathy, willful ignorance, and frustration. 
    My informal education was vastly more valuable than my formal schooling. Hell, I cut my entire Senior year in High School. Rather than sit in some stuffy classroom listening to what would soon be revealed as nonsense,  I would visit Land's End, or Ocean Beach, or Golden Gate Park. Education? The De Young Museum, Steinhart Aquarium, and the Museum of Natural History were all free. My Chinese scholar friend and I used to steal pennies and the occasional nickel or dime from the pond at the Japanese Tea Garden to buy Marvel and DC comics. That's right, we geeky kids were not just Early Adapters; we were trendsetters. 
    I grew up in The Fillmore, later renamed The Western Addition by the Redevelopment Agency, which may be the most harmful bureaucracy ever created. It was bordered on the North and Northwest by some of the most exclusive neighborhoods in the world; Pacific/Presidio/Laurel Heights, Russian and Nob Hill.  I lived on Scott Street, and would often walk up to Jackson Street to watch the fog roll in thru the Golden Gate and over the hills. Starting in the early 60's, Huge portions of he Fillmore were summarily demolished. For years, the neighborhood had blocks of empty lots. The scars of this "redevelopment" can still be seen today. On the East (of course) was Japan Town, where my Japanese pal taught me how to make origami cranes and I helped him with his arithmetic homework.  That's right, I tutored an Asian in math. We also exchanged lunches. I grew quite fond of nori, and he thought baloney and mayonnaise on white bread was the bees knees. That's right, I said "bee's knees." 
    Further East and a bit North was Chinatown, where my Chinese gang pal showed me where to buy firecrackers. And it was only natural that I had major crushes on Nadine Nakai as well as Helen and May Wong (no relation). But that was in High School. My first serious grade school crush was on a little Mexican girl named (of course) Maria. She lived in the Mission District, (of course) just South of The Mo'. I’m not sure she ever said a word to her, but it was true love just the same. 
    The bourgeois lived in the Richmond and The Sunset, due West of The 'Hood. Thats where my High School, George Washington was located. Like I said, I had a real Multi-Culti upbringing. Which brings us to the point of this Chapter and Verse: Black is a color, not a “race.” 
    Remember those old minstrel shows at the turn of the century where white men would put on makeup and shabby clothes and talk funny and play the banjo and dance and sing and say: “Mammy!?” Well, neither do I, but that's the image that comes to mind when I hear that someone is or is not “acting black.” Being “black” in America has come to mean putting on an act, a mask, pretend: a black face. One of the primary characteristics that is considered acting black is speaking in that horrid Southern accent that is supposedly legitimized by calling it “Ebonics.” It is really just pidgin or a kriol of English. The American Southern accent itself is a corruption of the marbles-in-the-mouth English accent. And the English language is  an amalgam of German, Dutch, Old English, Greek, Latin, and French. With the exception of Greek and Latin, they are all guttural, unintelligible, and unpronounceable tongues.  I have always wished Mexico had won the war in 1848 so that I could have grown up speaking Spanish, which, by the by,  is way more "romantic" than French, Italian, or even Portuguese.  
    My problem with kriol is has nothing to do with the fact that it may have originated as a form of rebellion against learning to speak like the master. It has everything to do with the limitations this speech places on the speaker once they step outside their neighborhood. The vocabulary of “ebonics” and kriol is simply too limited to be useful in the Modern World. It’s almost like having an actual physical handicap like a speech impediment.
    Other expected behaviors include spontaneously breaking into song and/or dance, exhibiting hyper-sexuality (a healthy libido), using the "n" word in public, being loud, acting “country,” getting poor grades in school, participating in gang activity, not knowing how to swim, being afraid of dogs, and being “lazy.” Having or being a Baby’s Mamma, being inarticulate or illiterate, and spending time in prison (!) have all become part of contemporary “black” male identity.  Acting black is also code for being unintelligent. The whole race question ultimately boils down to the school yard taunt of: "I'm smarter (better) than you.”     But hold up; let us define "intelligence." Intelligence is commonly confused with "clever" or "smart." It is often associated with the ability to fabricate gadgets. But the only definition that makes any sense is the ability survive as a group or species. Any acts towards that end could be considered intelligent. Any acts contrary to that end would have to be considered "not-so-bright," “dull/normal,” or “stu-pid.” 
    When people use the phrase "the black community," they are not talking about Danny Glover or Oprah. They are talking about someone in trouble with the law, failing in school, ghetto economics, or some other typical American dysfunction. Much like acting black, “the black community” has become a catch phrase for American African identity. What it really means to be black in America is to be economically disadvantaged and socially marginalized. The “black community” is poor people, and acting black is code for acting poor, or lower caste. 
    Another construct that I have a problem with is “Afro-Centric.”  This is a rather ambiguous phrase used within certain  intellectual and academic circles. It can mean anything from Black Studies to belief in an alternate Universe, and often includes religion, nationalism, racism, and/or the acceptance of myth and rumor as fact. Much of this school of thought is based on two flawed assumptions. The first is that “black” is a “race.” The second is that Africa either is or was a country, and that all Africans are somehow related or share the same culture. Revisionist History is fine, as long as it is accurate. 
    The Black community in America is not Ethiopians, Egyptians, Black Jews, or Moors. We are not ancient nor modern Africans. We are Americans whose distant ancestors came from Africa. We are a Hybrid Culture; there are no “pure” black Americans.  We have to create our own identity that is not based on skin color, continent of origin, or religion. It must be based on who we are as individuals. Africa can’t help us, and we can’t help Africa. ”Blacks” in America are on their own. 
    Americanized Africans need to get over that whole “when we were Kings” tilt and get to work on a plan to survive the collapse of Western Civilization. The same percentage of blacks were related to African Royal families as are whites to European royal families; virtually none. Most blacks as well as most whites are descendants of slaves, serfs, peasants, hunters, fishermen, farmers, craftsmen, laborers, soldiers, convicts, and the mentally and physically challenged. Whatever contributions ancient African civilizations may have made to the world are no more or less significant than those of the Greeks, Persians, Aryans, or the Chinese. Teaching that there is a black history, fine. But past African civilizations can’t help us now.
    The black church has become the gathering place of the modern urban village. The religious premises may be a little shaky, but the Spirit is real. When people are gathered together with the intent to do good, powerful things can happen. But it would be nice to see some actual results from all this activity. One would be hard pressed to show how the church has helped the black community since the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. I believe that the convention of the black  church might have outlived  it’s usefulness. 
    The agenda has been so Heavenly minded that  it has produced little Earthly good. Attendance in black  churches has been declining for years, a trend  is that is not likely to change. A new way  must be found to engage people, especially our youth. There is A New Day  a’ coming, and it’s got nothing to do with Jesus. The times ahead are going to require a different way of looking at religion, politics, economics, and at what is considered to be black culture.
    “Spirituality” is commonly associated with black identity. Africans’ natural Pagan affinities made it easy for Europeans to convert the “heathens” to Inquisition-style Christianity. You know: “Oh, you don’t believe in our God? Well, let’s burn you at the stake.” Still, the version of Christianity practiced in the American African community  is closer to tribal religions than most churchgoers are aware of. Spirit possession was still  common occurrence when I was a youth. "Holy-rolling" was a weekly occurrence, and the participants were nearly always the same individuals. Sometimes the possession was called "shouting;" with the "possessed" person speaking in tongues, or in Standard Ebonics. I'm not sure what is actually happening in this situation, perhaps a form of epileptic seizure? But I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with Jesus.
     Christianity is not an African religion. Judaism was developed by and for the Hebrew tribe. Islam is no more native to Africa than is Christianity. What most people know as Christianity today was invented almost out of whole cloth by the Romans as a means to rule the world. Africa has it’s own religions, and it would be interesting to hear some "Afro-Centric" discussions of them, along with African music and other cultural exchanges. African religions are spontaneous, homegrown, organic, ancestor and Nature based; not Messianic or revelatory. They resemble the religions of tribal people all over the planet, from the Americas to Europe, Australia, and Asia. They also closely resemble the pagan religions of Europe before the Romans got there. 
    These religions mainly involve recognition and respect for the forces of Nature, honoring those that went before you, harmonious family relations, getting intoxicated, playing music and dancing around the fire. Oh, and eating. Lots of eating. And schtupping. Lots of schtupping, also called “fertility rites.”
   Music is an essential part of American African identity. From field hollers and spirituals to jazz and “hip-hop,” music has been the vehicle through which Americanized African people have communicated with each other and with the Spirit World. Music soothes the savage breast, or beast, or whatever it is. Except for those rock n’ roll gospel numbers. Those make you want to dance! In church!
    Black music has had a profound effect on American culture. Americanized African music is part of the very DNA of the USA. It could be argued that music is Africa's greatest contribution to the world. Some Afro-Centrists will howl in outrage, suggesting other achievements of ancient African cultures are more important. But what could be more important than music? I believe it was Louis Armstrong who said: “There are only two kinds of music; good music, and bad music.” Theoretical physicist Michio Kaku says: “The mind of God is music resonating through hyper-space.” Vedic philosopher Sri Chimoy said something like: “First there is God, then there is Silence, then there is Music; and then comes everything else.” The DollarMan says: “Music is the means by which The Gods communicate with Humanoids.” 
    Music is transcendent because it does not need to be understood rationally. It can put one in a better place instantly, without having to resort to drastic measures such as drugs, celibacy, or meditation. Music doesn’t require words to make its power known. Most lyrics  just detract from the sounds. The “spirituals” derived from African and Celtic folk traditions would have the same power without the English words. Music can lead to direct contact with the Spirit World, or whatever it is. Music can charge up our chakras and cleanse our auras. It can inspire peace, love, and understanding. It can also be bad enough to bring down the walls of Jericho.
    The music of the Motown Era did more to break down the race and class barriers in this country than did Brown v. Board of Education. Once a “white” person brought a Chubby Checker, Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, or Chuck Berry record into the house, a line in the sand had been crossed. It was  not possible to think of race and class in the same way as before you started shaking your boo-tay. 
    The best “black” music today comes from Africa, and Central, and South America, yet even most Afro Centrists are unaware of this fantastic resource. Tuareg desert blues, West African High-Life, Tuku music from Zimbabwe, mournas from Capo Verde; the variety and quality of African music is truly astounding. Afro Pop is a worldwide phenomena, and among the European nations it is especially popular in France and England. Go figure. The media in America is so tightly controlled, and Americans are so un-curious, that most people will only ever hear African music if a European person is on the album. 
    is an example of what Many people consider the marketing phenomenon known as Hip Hop Culture to be black or African American culture. This music, which is somehow supposed to represent The Struggle or The Movement or The Revolution, actually reveals an African American subculture that seeks to adopt Euro-American values. Those values are conspicuous consumption, greed, and substituting fantasy for activity. Buy certain things and call yourself a playa; Hell, this is America, you can be anything you want to be, right? 
    The Capitalists make money selling music with Americanized Africans calling each other “N’s”  “B’s” and “H’s,” and "f" this and "f" that. They make money when the “black  community,” as well as their children buy the  clothing, bling, and the inevitably repossessed Benzes and Jags. They make money arresting,  prosecuting, defending, incarcerating, and on the “supervised release” (parole or probation) of the young men who think they are “gangstas'.”  And then they make money when Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears perform "Hip Hop" without the “N” and “B” words. This while some of the best actual African musicians playingWorld music can barely feed themselves.
    Like most "Americans," my origins are shrouded in mystery. My ancestry includes African, Native american, and most likely European genealogy. Because of my uh, heritage, my skin can only be described as red. Not the red of people we call Red in The Hood. Those guys are almost always what is considered in the USA to be "Creole;" very light skinned, so the red is from blood near the surface of the skin, not melanin. No, my red is that first stage where brown turns to red, or vice versa. I am half an f-stop darker than the average Mayan or Mestizo, and half a shade lighter than the darker Americanized African.
     If “Massa Smith” had his way with my Great-great-something-something Grandmother, what “race” does that make me, or the average Americanized African in this country? If the fat-bottomed Irish or German maid and the African houseman started making goo-goo eyes at each other, what rogue Euro genes are roaming around the “black community” today?  If  blacks were held as slaves by some Indian tribes, and if others ran away and intermarried with indigenous peoples, and if still others bought or stole Indian wives, well, like the man asked my fair-skinned cousin in South Carolina: “What are ya?” 
    The story of the African diaspora in North, Central, and South America is one of the Greatest Stories Never Told. The Secret Of Life is that Nature promotes Hybrid Vigor. Almost all persons of African descent in the United States, the Caribbean, and Central and South America are mulattos; biracial, tri-racial, quadroons, octoroons, creoles, mestizos, half-breeds, and mongrels. There is nothing like making the sign of the double-humped aardvark to dispel the notion that there are any real differences between  "races." As we shall discuss later in this tome, there are only two races on this Planet anyway, those being Girlz and Boyz. Their job is to combine their best genes with the best genes of someone, anyone, and pray that their “nurture” can mitigate the effects that their recessive genes have on the unsuspecting offspring.     Americanized Africans are inherently alienated from the mainstream of American society because we had no choice in being here. Some of our ancestors did, but there were actually two choices; get on the boat, or die on the spot. And a great many EuroAmericans wish we weren't here, along with those other dark-skinned people. You know, the "Mexicans," who of course are mostly Native Americans. I know other brown skinned ethnicities are also being alienated, Arabs, Indians; anyone darker than a tanned European gets a second look in the airport. I still believe that America is really more hung-up on class than with race.  But since the upper classes are mostly white, it still boils down to a color-scale pecking order.
    The best way to do this is to mate with someone who lives as far away from your tribe as possible. As anyone can tell simply by looking around them, The Urge To Merge trumps "race," religion, and family/social stigma. Like it says in that book the Christians claim to believe in: “From one blood all nations are created.” Unlike many other utterances in this book, this one is pretty clear. On the empirical side, there are no distinct units of human genetic populations. All human beings are genetically related. So sez The Scientists. The first thing that usually occurs when two cultures meet each other is that the men try to kill each other. The second thing that happens is that the men and women immediately begin schtupping like bunnies. Whether it is by consent or the result of rape, cultures always “intermarry” when they come into contact. Any notions of racial  purity are rendered moot as soon as the first sexual encounters takes place. Ethnic/tribal/regional differences can be sooo hot!
    My Great-great grandfather was a Buffalo Soldier.  My Great-great grandmother was a Native American. It may sound romantic, but what it really means is that he was a desperate man fleeing the conditions in the South and Midwest, and so became hired killer for the U.S. Government. In the film, he is a war resistor. He has “buck fever,” and can’t pull the trigger on a human being. He starts off as an almost rabid Christian, and so he actually believes in all that Love Thy Neighbor and Do Unto Others and Thou Shalt Not Kill stuff. He is shell-shocked after witnessing his first massacre, and so is relegated to tending to the horses, playing music, and acting as a battlefield doctor and assistant Chaplain. Of course, he writes it all down in his journal. It's your classic boy-meets-girl story, only in the high desert mountains in Mexico, with eagles and rattlesnakes and sunsets and running gun battles. Some young bucks  fill his iz-zass with arrows after a chase and ambush. Then, “somehow” my Great-great-grandmother saves his life and they live happily ever after.     In reality, it is possible she was  kidnapped and/or sold to him. Nobody in my family that knows anything about “Old Mexico” is still alive, but I remember visiting "relatives" way the Hell out in the desert up in the hills near Mesa, Arizona, in a little village with no streets and no name. The tacos  my relatives prepared are to this day the best I have ever had.
    Another of the Great Stories Never Told is that of the Asian migration that peopled the Americas. These people are  commonly referred to as "Indians.” They have been here long enough to have become genetically linked to the New World environment, literally kin of the eagle and bear and salmon. However, it is still easy to mistake a Pilipino person for a Native American  person, or a cute Thai or Cambodian girl for a cute Mayan or Mixteca  girl. And by "girl," I mean Fully Empowered Female Warrior-Goddess Person. 
    The only people who have been treated worse in this country than Americanized Africans are the indigenous people of the North and South American continents. Everything we have as an “industrialized nation” is only possible because of the stolen land and stolen labor of these two groups of people. If the Native Americans had had access to the same food and medicines and ammunition that the Euros had, it would be a different history book we would be reading today, and it most likely would be written in Spanish. 
    Los Indios were almost entirely genocided. Millions of indigenous people on the three American continents have perished so that our dogs can have lavender facials and Prozac.  Fortunately, they have plenty of cousins left in Central and South America. From what I have observed, they are doing their part to replenish the indigenous population North of the “border.”  Leslie Marmon Silko says in Almanac Of The Dead that The People will return to their ancestral lands after 500 years of European rule, or in this case, misrule. Seems fair to me. 
    About 276 years before the Declaration of Independence was signed, the Spanish and indigenous people of the Americas were schtupping.  A unique culture was born, both Indian and Spanish; but mostly Indian. Americans refer to these peoples as "Mexicans.” True, many are from Mexico, but most are from all over Central and South America. It should also be obvious that Mexico is part of Central America; linguistically, culturally, and historically. These Mostly Mayan and other tribal groups, families, and friends used to live in what is now called the United States, and will they will live here again. 
    I got a much better idea than building a fence to keep "Mexicans" out Arizona. I think we should give Southern California (defined as everything South of San Luis Obispo), Arizona, "New" Mexico, and Texas back to Mexico.  I mean really people, you are living in a place that has more Spanish and Native American place names than Anglo ones. You probably had a burrito or taco for lunch, and might have a Margherita for dinner. Anyone who actually did any real work at your house or on your ranch was probably named Josè or Juan or Rosita. And you say you don't want "Mexicans" in "your" country? It's so ludicrous I forgot to laugh. The Southwest always has been Mexico, and always will be.
    “Blacks” are Americanized Africans. The “black community” shares the same fondness for Zu-Zu’s and Wham-Wham’s that the dominant culture does. Life in the modern American African diaspora looks more like Ozzie And Harriet than it does The Gods Must be Crazy  or Countryman. Our community has yet to form or describe an identity that is not based on European Industrial Age thinking. All American Africans are the results of crossbreeding and hybridization with Caucasoid and Mongoloid genes. Like “Mexicans,” we American Africans are a distinct subculture, the results of rapine, love, lust, and the Law Of Unintended Consequences. But for real for real? American Africans are no closer to being "African" than “Mexicans “are to being "Spanish."
    My own personal definition of  “acting black” would be the retention of a sort of Pagan Vigor that cannot be beat down or extinguished by exposure to the Faux Euro culture that is America today. By extension, “acting white” would be accepting the this Faux Euro way of life, including religion (“I’m right, you’re bad”), political and economic systems (the Cult of Consumption), and “culture” (the Cult of Consumption). Said society consists primarily of superstition instead of theology, egregious consumerism, alcohol and pharmaceutical  consumption, pathetic “news” and entertainment, and the driving  of automobiles to nowhere while talking on a cell phone about nothing. 
    Americanized Africans may not have been assimilated by the Dominant Culture, but many of us have been absorbed by it. The Dominant Culture would have you believe that everything is going to work out somehow, but you know what? It’s not. That whole way of life is so over. The unprecedented wealth the U.S. enjoyed from the 50’s thru the 80’s was only possible because the rest of the World was in ashes from World War II. And while this country is doing it’s best to reduce Afghanistan and Iraq to ruins, in the long run the people who own the resources in the world will control them. That means the end of the Consumer Era,  and sooner rather than later.
     I am in no position to be offering advice, but that’s never stopped me before. This advice applies to all people, but is especially germane to Americanized Africans. The advice is this: Get off the grid. Find a way to live that does not depend on you having money, because there ain’t gonna be any. Learn to live  without being hooked up to gas, water, and electrical lines. Relearn your place in Nature, and She will provide all you need to live on Earth. 100 years ago most of our ancestors were living in rural environments, and they had no money. They did not have supermarkets, but they ate much better than most people do today. They didn’t have memberships to health clubs, but I remember my Grandfather being literally as strong as an ox. It is possible to be cash-poor and well-fed and healthy in a rural environment. 
    Not so in the City. Cities are a relic of the past. They are expensive, dirty, noisy, and dangerous. They are vectors for all manner of communicable diseases, and if looked at dispassionately, cities are, well, ugly. The only reason to have human beings living cheek-to-jowl is to make it easier for The Capitalists to control their behavior and exploit their labor. Now that human labor is no longer necessary (at least in this country) for Post Industrial Capitalism, cities function as a combination theme park/shopping mall for the wealthy, and as a prison for the poor.
    Forget about the bling, the career as athlete or entertainer; but also the career of the middle-manager for the phone company. Not only are the good jobs basically out of reach for minorities except for...the exceptions, but you don’t want to do that shiz-nit anyway. Sit on your buttisimo in a sunless, airless, windowless cubicle for 40 years for what? To support a family?  Not necessary. Where you from? Afrisippi? You got peeps there? They got any land? They got a well? Do you like beans, rice, greens, cornbread, chicken, peace cobbler, and watermelon? Yeah, me too. Do you know how to feed yourself? Which end of a hammer to hold? Ever shot a rabbit or hooked a fish? Do you know the name of one edible wild plant? Can you build a house? Ever plant a tree? Some combination of solar, wind, and renewable fuel technology is available even to people with very low incomes. You can even generate electricity enough to run your recording studio, if your recording studio is Garage Band.
    Dude, or Dudettes; you don't have to own the land, just be able to live on it. Times are tough, you can probably get a 99-year lease for…..cheap. You can live on about $5,000 per year; maybe less if you’re willing to hunt and fish. You can make that much selling eggs and veggies and painting barns, or raising alligators, or something legal; or in that best American Tradition, semi-legal. In many states and certain counties the authorities don’t care if you grow a little uh, medicinal herbs if you don’t get greedy and are willing to give the Sheriff his tariff. Go South, Young Man, and Woman. If you have relatives anywhere that there are a few acres, go there and figure out how to live off of the land, and then decide to what extent you can participate in the consumer society. Ask Grandma how to raise organic vegetables and fruits, and learn how to prepare them fresh. Learn how to dry corn, string beans, apples, and young corn. Ask Grandpa how to raise chickens and slaughter a pig, calf, or goat. Or not. Learn to fish; hunting optional. I mean, I'm not going to tell you to eat possums and coons and bullfrogs. Unless you actually prefer these meats, well, chicken (Giri Raja) is much less hassle, and provides eggs, meat, and fertilizer.  Brown rice, potatoes, cornbread, and vegetables will provide most of the nutrition you need. But whatever you do, Get Thee Off The Grid, because it’s soon going to cost $100,000 phony American petrodollars per annum to stay connected to it. 
    In lieu of an actual Revolution, the only way †he “black community” can have a decent, sustainable, stress-free life is if some sort of reverse diaspora takes place. We have to retrace our paths from the urban miasma we are in back to our roots in rural areas where it is at least possible to live without having to work 80 hours per week. If people really are “mad at the white man,” then some of them will want to go back to the Caribbean, Central and South America, and maybe even  to Africa. The alternative is to settle for some low-wage, low quality, high-stress life, working for The Capitalists. You may find a niche where, like the majority of Americans, you can fake your way through the day and live for the weekend and maybe get a week of vacation and maybe  have health insurance or a retirement plan that they’ll snatch away from you at the last minute. But you most likely won’t get the chance, because those jobs don’t exist anymore, even for “white” people. 

    Turn On? It’s a personal decision. Tune In? To your Own Self, Dudes and Dudettes. Drop Out? Like all relationships, it's better you drop them before they drop you.  Because it’s like this: all that stuff you see: McMansions, Mercedes, television, Hollywood, Grammies, Hip-Hop, Armani, finance companies, repo-men, taxes, wars and rumors of wars, the poh-lice; they all belong to White Privilege. The Americanized African Community cannot wait for politicians or businessmen or religious leaders to solve our problems. We must Take The Bull By The Horns, and decide what the “black community" will look like in 50 years. One thing is for certain; it won't be "black," the color. Probably more like a Mocha…..    






http://www.amazon.com/Almanac-Dead-Leslie-Marmon-Silko/dp/0140173196/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1311015098&sr=1-1http://youtu.be/GorHLQ-jLRQhttp://youtu.be/khxOiIN_6Nghttp://www.cdbaby.com/cd/afrissippihttp://www.apple.com/ilife/garageband/http://youtu.be/mtW6rzdOgzQshapeimage_2_link_0shapeimage_2_link_1shapeimage_2_link_2shapeimage_2_link_3shapeimage_2_link_4shapeimage_2_link_5

I ~ Black Dudes Don’t Surf, Dude