THE MYSPACE FILES (nolo) - VOL. 2
As I said before, THE UNDERWRITER used to be a Myspace slave, until he called "To Catch a Predator" and realized that Myspace is for secret perverts.
So now, Michael Jordan THE UNDERWRITER works for himself. Sure, Blogger gets its share, but I gets mine too. Get like me. The following post is a direct copy from Michael Jordan's dead Myspace blog, which was insanely popular before THE UNDERWRITER deaded it. You can't cheat the Reaper...
BIG BROTHER (Worth breaking my promise)
Current mood: sad
I'm writing this blog, in all honesty, with tears in my eyes. Seriously, I've cried a lot in the last few hours...
It all started in good cheer. Like I said in one of my bulletins, I had just recently finished editing a book. It was a triumphant coup... Me, the exiled music industry guru, being immediately connected back to the top tier of the business through my unbreakable contacts. Shout out to DL... I don't give him half as much credit as I should for helping me build my career...
Anyway, the tears are still growing in my eyes. But before I had anything to be sad about, I was having a great time chilling with two of my homeboys who I never get enough time with - Brian "B-Heat" Washington and Lance "Digital Fingaz" Matthews. I brought the Corona; they had the nicotene. Black men relaxing, reminiscing on the high school days and how we still have every potential possibility to take back our city and the southeast region - all in the name of quality music.
It was at the very end of a great time, talking shyte and remembering "the good ol' days", when I discovered that a great friend of mine, ToeJoe, had passed on in the last few months. And like usual, since I live in Atlanta, I had no idea until the funeral had passed and the body had been covered and laid to rest.
It hurt like I would never have expected...
When I found out, I had to leave immediately. ToeJoe was one of those few individuals who could walk the line between hard-core, thugged-out and intelligent, impressive and instantly loveable. We met at J. O. Johnson High School, and he co-signed me before I was willing to fight, even though I was raised to defend myself at all costs. You could have called him a "gentle giant", except for the fact that he was street-affiliated and heavily respected. I was lucky to have a friend like him.
This wouldn't have hit me so hard if he had not recently commented on my blogs. He was still living in Huntsville, and was very expressive about my writing, telling me that I was "the real deal." He even asked me to help him write his life story. But because I was "so busy"... I was lackadaisical about getting back to him about making it happen...
Now he's dead. And I'm very, very upset about it. What's bugging me out is that I didn't even cry two weeks ago, when my Aunt Gwen died in a Chattanooga hospital. It was almost as if I was expecting her death, so it didn't affect me as much. But I loved my aunt, so I can't accept that her passing was impersonal to my life. ToeJoe just happened to be there for a very influential part of my life, when others weren't willing to be nice or passive. You can't expect a gangster to be a gentleman, but when it happens you feel very protected. But gangsters don't show pity or piety; gangsters recognize strength where others ignore it. They recognize real, even when it's futuristic...
I'm fucked up over his death, which occured months ago to my knowledge. It not only hurts that nobody told me it happened, but also because he was sending me messages over Myspace about bettering himself and breaking away from the definition that American society had created for him. He was going for it, and I missed a great opportunity to be part of amplifying a voice of truth.
This is not my last blog, but I had to break my promise to not write another one just to honor the life of a person who meant a lot to me and many other residents of Huntsville, Alabama. Who cares if I'm late in eulogizing him; ToeJoe was a great friend. I'll miss him. Matter of fact, my eyes are watering again, even as I type... no bullshit.
My heart goes out to you, Mike, I know you're in pain. Love you.
Posted by R. Niambi on Friday, September 14, 2007 at 3:09 AM
Again, I'm touched by your eloquence in painting emotion through a universe of electrical nodes for our eyes to see your inner-being. I hope this isn't the only time you break your promise because unlike many promises, this one needs to continually be broken. I feel your pain and know your struggle brother. Comfort comes in the memories we cherish. Mike, cherish those memories of your fallen friend. Keep striving. I can't wait to read the book.
Posted by The Original on Sunday, September 16, 2007 at 11:48 AM
Young Hughes For President!!
Toe Joe.....yeah, that was crazy. I heard the news out here in Cali, and I couldn't believe it. I had also been getting messages from him on MySpace telling me about his daughter, and how he was glad to be moving past being the thug that everybody knew him as. The crazy thing is, in my last conversation with him, I said that he was the last of a dying breed. The era of the REAL "G's" is over, and the world will be hard pressed to find another complex brother like him......
Posted by Young Hughes For President!! on Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 11:25 AM
Rest in Peace, ToeJoe. We miss you out there in the 'Ville, even though I don't come home that much anymore...