RACISM AIN'T DEAD YET...

Before you go all Obama/Dr. King/Biggie Smalls crazy with the rest of your holiday weekend, I just thought I'd come back to say hello and burst your bubble with regards to race relations in America, and specifically in the south.

Absolutely 100% true story:


Last night, after doing research for the job, I went to my old bar hangout in Marietta, GA. It's called Churchill's Pub. You don't normally see a lot of black folks in and out of there, but they do come through. I get treated like some sort of celebrity by the staff and owners, simply because I've weathered 2 years of coming in consistently. Working across the street at another bar made it accessible, and the fact that they have really good food, free wi-fi and would let you order a pitcher of beer for yourself were enough to keep me coming, even though I would sometimes sense race hate from the other side of the bar. Which I never pay much attention to anyway, but sometimes I would actually engage the people directly with a sarcastic smile and a knowing look.

It wasn't that way last night, but there was this dude that I know pretty well from seeing him there a lot, sometimes with his mom and dad. He was hanging out with this guy that looked like he was born in a hunting jacket; like he literally fell out of a deer's coochie one morning, reached for a rifle and shot his own mother dead. This guy was short, pudgy and had extremely wild eyes -- probably from meth of coke or... who knows -- and did all he could to get my attention when he played "99 Problems" by Jay-Z on the Rhapsody jukebox. I gave him a salute and even played along with him when he shouted out the lyrics to the part of the song where the officer is talking to Jay. You know: "Cuz I'm young, and I'm black/and my hat's real low/do I look like a mind reader, sir?/I'ont know..."

This is ironic, because 20 minutes later, as I walk over to say what's up to the other homie, he meets me in front of the jukebox, like, "Are you gonna play some shit!!@?? (drunk as hell). I was like, "Um... yeah!?" And he was then like, "YEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" So I guess that meant we were cool. It had to mean he had established some type of relationship with me, at least in his mind, because not 5 minutes later, as I'm looking through the web, he does the irritating thing which people always do when I take my computer into a public place -- ask if I'll go to some stupid website or YouTube video. This time, I said "Sure," and actually found this really cool site that showcases a local artist who lost his arm or something and draws completely with his mouth. So I say to him, "That's actually cooler than I expected it to be, my man." And he says, "OH!!! YOU WANNA SEE SOMETHING COOL?!??!@@#%?! CHECK THIS SHIT OUT, MAN!!*#!"

That's when he pulls out his phone and shows me how he won last year's Halloween costume at a neighborhood party.





I actually got the guy to send that picture to my email address. That's really him. Now, if you're white and reading this, you might be thinking, "Aww, come on, Mike. That's not really racist! It's just a harmless joke! Stop being so damn sensitive and taking all the fun out of something that's not even that big a deal..."

True, true. Sounds great, but what was I supposed to say about the picture of his black dog, who he called his "down-ass nigger" and bragged about how well-trained he is, and why I'd love him, and why I should come over to their house to get really drunk(er) with the whole backwoods family.





I politely declined, shook my head a little and laughed. Finished my drink, turned back to him and asked a very simple question:

"So, did you vote for Obama?"

He said no.

I paid out my tab, walked over to the bartender and gave her a hug, tipped my waitress, threw the deuces to our shared homie, and after putting on my long, black winter coat and throwing my Macbook back into my leather shoulder bag -- looking like a future black senator, I might add -- I extended my hand to shake that of my new, ignorant-to-his-own-racism friend and said:

"You're actually a cool cat, besides your bullshit. Hope you think twice about your picture and the N-bomb in the future. Oh, and happy MLK day."

KILLING YOU TURKEYS

Somebody get Bryan "Baby" Williams from Cash Money Records on the phone and tell him that Governor Sarah Palin would be an excellent choice if there's an opening at Lil' Wayne's recording home for a new "Birdlady." Not only has she proven over the last three months to be completely incompetent and bird-brained on the national stage, but she obviously doesn't mind some "cut-up", and is proud of herself when it comes to being a "chicken-head."

The milfy, intellectually challenged governor, in another unprecedented display of public relations fuckery, has recently conducted a TV interview in Wasilla, Alaska, in which she probably intended to show mercy and goodwill to a lucky turkey in the spirit of Thanksgiving leadership, but ended up looking like a heartless animal slaughterer auditioning for a starring role in Vick II – The Alaskan Turkey Holocaust, which must be coming out soon in a made-for-TV movie on Lifetime.

There's not much else to say about this, except that Palin's publicity team should definitely have engaged in mass suicide weeks ago on some Branch Davidian ish. Don't worry about seeing anything graphic; MSNBC made sure to blur out any jerkish claw movements, splattering turkey plasma, flying gizzard remnants or airborne beak particles so that you can keep on thinking that the Lawd sends us fresh, pre-butchered turkeys from either Heaven or the North Pole right in time for the holiday season. I'm not even mad at this if Palin was intentionally trying to stage a publicity stunt for to make her upcoming book advance go up a few more millies, but she can pretty much kiss politics goodbye after this. The sleeping public is not ready to see this type of thing.

PRIDE, DIGNITY, SELF-RESPECT - THEY'RE ALL DEAD

Warning. This shit is sad. You've been warned.

So I was riding along I-20 yesterday afternoon on my way back from Birmingham, taking in my daily dose of the best news program on the planet, NPR. Forget whatever you heard or thought; no television station, newspaper, magazine, blog or website does a better job of reporting the events that occur in our world with as much consistency and objectivity. Which reminds me, I need to go ahead and start donating money (whenever I get some).

But back to the point. While I'm enjoying my highway cruise, I was flabbergasted by a story about PRINCELLA SMITH, a 24-year old Republikkkan who is an African-American female and happens to be a member of Newt Gingrich's think tank, American Solutions. CLICK HERE FOR THE AUDIO. And if you will excuse me for a moment while you listen, I will now puke on myself.

*earling*


Ok, we're back. So anyway, this heifer intelligent black woman has decided to show her independence and freedom by being a token negro mascot for the GOP. She even had a blog post published at one of my favorite liberal bully blogs that attacked my beloved Hip-Hop. Check it out:

Sadly, the new slave master portrayed in many (not all) rap videos is the black man.

The executives and heads of these hip hop record companies are white males who sell 4 out of every 5 rap records recorded to a young, white, suburban, male audience. This image of oversexed black men who disrespect women, wear gun wounds as a badge of honor and brag of "bling and bills" is ingrained into the minds of white America, and thus becomes a new form of bondage for African-Americans. These young white men go out into the corporate world, and many are eventually sitting behind a desk to hire employees, and we want them to be objective. Yet, in their subconscious lies these images of African-Americans.

SOURCE: THE HUFFINGTON POST

Good try, sista. Now, let's examine that theory a little bit more. If we are seriously defined as a race by the entertainment that we created for our own enjoyment and is now an incredibly popular worldwide financial juggernaut, that would not be a failure upon our part in sending a clear message. The onus lies upon the anuses who listen and believe anything they hear, see and read. All art is open to interpretation, and what seems like mysogynistic and self-hating garbage to you might be comedy to me. In other words, I don't have to tell a joke or write a sentence that you like, if I don't wish to do such a thing. If you like it, great! If not, kill yourself!

Here's an example. I don't get upset at Oprah, Tyra or that other black woman on The View when they say dumb shit that I don't agree with or could shine a negative light on black men. I just think that they're entitled to their own opinions, and then I ask axe myself, "Why the eff am I watching Oprah?" Immediately following this revelation, I shake my head and change the channel. Problem solved. I don't sit around and wonder, "But what if white women believed that all black men were worthless, irresponsible, shiftless, immature animals with bad credit? Do you know what that would do to interracial dating and the population of light skinned babies? Oh, the horror!"

That was a joke. All I'm trying to get across here is that if you don't like something, don't watch, listen to or read it. Leave it the hell alone, like I'm doing with your beloved GOP convention. And I'm going to do my best to ignore you, my sista, because you are being used like a rubber dildo by the Republikkkans to sodomize the African-American race in a manner that Nelly could never achieve with a million "Tip Drill" videos.

My problem with Princella Smith is that she is a tool. If she doesn't know it, then there is hope for her yet. Ignorance is bliss, but nothing lasts forever. Now, if she does realize that she is letting the Republikkkans parade her around town as their new weapon against their own reputation of racial hatred, then she is despicable, stupid and a classic sell-out. And I'm sure that will put her on the path to the Supreme Court like another famous GOP ball-blower.





For the record, Ms. Smith, I do not judge you for being an opportunist. I'll pray for you tonight, even. Now go back to your aluminum shack behind Massa's house and finish shucking corn for tonight's GOP convention dinner. I'm sure they'll save the "chitterlings" for you.




Lord, give me a sign.

T.O.C.: Day 39 - THE REPUBLIKKKAN "PARTY" IS DEAD

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THE OBAMA CRUSADE: Day 38 - I’M BRAIN DEAD

Alright, I'm back. But bad news: My mind is blown. It's so bad that I have foregone any attempt at being productive, so I will settle for being effective and just share my mental breakdown with you, oh my brothers and sisters.

These are the thoughts runnin’ through my mind, in no particular order. Seriously, I am stunned at the choice of Governor Sarah Palin. I can barely focus on things I need to do because this is absolutely crazy and unexpected.

Here’s the randomness:



• Be not confused; this is GREAT for the Democrats. But I just can't understand how the Republikkkans would kill themselves like this.

• Today is John McCain’s birthday. He turned 72. That means that if he were to serve a full 8-year term as POTUS, he would leave office at 80. I have no words for that.

• Governor Sarah Palin is 44. She is a first-term governor of Alaska and has 2 years on the job.

• I can’t believe this…

• The term I keep hearing on the news is that the vice-president is always “a heartbeat away” from the presidency. When running for POTUS, a VP choice would need to be ready to assume the responsibilities of Commander-in-Chief at any time. Huh?

• CNN’s Jack Cafferty absolutely roasted Palin on Wolf Blitzer’s The Situation Room today. As he said, the Republikkkans gave the Democrats "an early Christmas."

• Remember that America is involved in the War on Terror, which has us bogged down in Afghanistan, Iraq and could take us into Iran very soon. Does she have any – any – foreign policy expertise? I know she's a member of the NRA, but does having a gun mean that you can run multiple wars and the economy? WTF?!

• The job she held before being elected governor was mayor of a town in Alaska that has less than 6,000 residents. Westbumba-clat, Alaska, I believe is the name.

• …………

• There is only one tactical victory for the GO-Pee in this spectacular moment in historic political fuckery. Nobody is really talking about Obama. Not even me.

• This has fried my brain. The only fear I have is that since this is so unexplainable, it might have the effect of a mass lobotomy, and we will all become walking zombies, mental vegetables, and just start agreeing with everything. Jesus, this is so random.

• Senator John McCain just gave the Democrats the gift of political victory over the GOP, hopefully for generations and not just four years. And it's his birthday, not ours.

• ??????????

• Governor Palin is under investigation in her state, for possibly having a role in the firing of a State Trooper. The trooper was her brother-in-law. Nothing corrupt about that.

• Desperation is so unattractive. The Republikkkans have no game at all. What is this woman doing in this party? She is kind of cute…

• Imagine the Vice Presidential debate, coming soon to your favorite television news network. Trust me, if you’ve never trusted me before: Senator Joseph Biden is going to effortlessly take her apart – no question. All he has to do is ask her on live television to tell him anything about anything in the world.

• On the low, this is insulting as hell to women. Maybe on the high. McCain basically said, with the national microphone, "Look here, bitches: I picked up this strange married MILF from Alaska. So vote for me, because all you broads are the same anyway. Oh, and don't get pregnant accidentally anytime soon!! We ain't havin' it, but you are!!!"

• !... ?... !

• This is what you call political pandering, and my guess is that Senator Clinton’s “Hillraisers” support group is going to see right through this as soon as the Democrats begin to mount their assault.

• Seriously, I just knew that the GOP would make this harder. I’m shocked. Happy that they made the wrong move, but disappointed at their stupidity and taking all the fun out of the game.

• ??!!?

• I agree with David Gergen. It should have been Mitt Romney. That would have made sense. How would you feel today if you were Mitt Romney? You know how much chee$e that fool spent trying to be McCain's flunky? FAIL.

• Republikkkans have got to be nervous as hell.

• Wow. She's a journalism graduate. Journalism is dead.

• I gotta call my Dad and my older brother. I know they’re tripping as well.

• I need a drink.

• They say that Palin hasn’t even been “vetted” by the media yet. God, how bad is this shite going to be??

• She came in 2nd in the Miss Alaska '84 pageant. Damn. But, like I told the homie GARLAND earlier, I can’t front. Palin is thick, and I would beat.

• ! ! ! ?

• Jesus. Obama and Biden won’t even say anything bad about her. That’s smart; they don’t even need to. They can let the rest of the world wobble on its axis today and just remain cool. See, that’s why I like Obama. Cooler heads prevail.

• Meltdown… We are witnessing the meltdown of a major political party... My brain is farting…

• The only president to take the oath and enter the Oval Office older than McCain was Ronald Reagan. You know he had Altzheimer's.

• I have to leave this house, or I will suffer complete and total mental collapse.



I’ll be back later. Maybe not until tomorrow. Help me, Jesus. Help me, Tom Cruise.

POLITICAL SUICIDE (in the guise of respecting women)

It has been CONFIRMED BY CNN that Senator John McCain has chosen that lady above, Governor Sarah Palin of Alaska, as his running mate. More on this later...

All I can say for now is that this is a very bold move. And I don't know what the hell to make of this, except that this is a blatant stab at the Hillary vote.

Man, I'm going to have a lot to say about this one. For now, this is one of the worst moves I could have predicted by the Republikkkans. How stupid...


Stay tuned...

THE OBAMA CRUSADE: Day 36 - THE JOE SHOW

TODAY:


Let's start with the shucking and jiving Anne Price Mills, a Democratic delegate for Senator Hillary Clinton, who was interviewed immediately following the speech given by Clinton by the Queen of the TV Lite-Brites, Suzanne Malveaux. I'm not the only one who believes that she was planted by the GOP and told to stir up mixed emotions. I mean, why the hell was she crying? And what was she trying to say at the very end, when she starts to speak on Senator Barack Obama's "resume", then let's her head down, shrugging and sighing? Should we be dissappointed in the nominee? GTFOH.

Notice the guy standing next to her and the white guy standing behind Suzanne when she finally pulls the microphone away to end the interview. Last question: Why are all of these African-American and Hispanic/Latino people coming out of the woodwork and repeating Republickin talking points - right when the DNC is happening? It's either a setup or some of that old slave mentality stuff coming back, I tell ya. Either way, I'm sure the GOP is happy about it. It sews confusion, and confusion is a strategy for victory when properly executed. And this is one confused black woman...




On another note, we will see both Senator Joe Biden and former President Bill Clinton speak tonight. Who knows what Bill will say, but I can give you some hints as to what Biden will offer.

First of all, Joe Biden is known for being a little unbridled, but EVERYONE AGREES THAT HE SPEAKS THE TRUTH. To be honest, I was never as worried about Barack's chances against Hillary as I would have been if he were matched against Biden. Anyone still hanging on to a fear that Biden may not have been the correct choice, watch the video below. I'm telling you, this guy is official...




Expect this guy to come out swinging against the Republickins. Expect Clinton to talk about himself and to say just enough nice things about Barack to get over. And expect the GOP strategists to officially start worrying after tonight.

HIP-HOP REPUBLICKINS: DEAD ON ARRIVAL

Grab your barf bags... It's time to meet Tiffany Shorter and Richard Ivory, possibly the lamest black people alive.




Believe it or not, I am very tolerant of Republikkkans. I understand some of their long-standing ideas on governing and freedoms, and I do remember that Abraham Lincoln was a member of the GOP. The problem with this is that these two twits are trying to mesh the ideology of the GOP with the cultural significance of Hip-Hop, as if you can belong to Hip-Hop culture and still remain a Republikkkan. The two are not now and will never be compatible.

In my own opinion, it is disgusting that Richard Ivory (ironic) says in the video that he likes Nas, the rapper who recently tried to name his album Nigger and was censored due to pressure from Reverend Al Sharpton, with help from Bill O'Reilly. By the way, how sad is it that the surest way to combine the persuasive powers of the far right and the far left is to try to make a piece of recorded art that investigates the power of a word?

I would bet money that Nas wouldn't like Richard or his ladyfriend. He even says around the 7:06 mark that he wants to see a black Republikkkan win a congressional seat representing Harlem in the next 20 years. Pardon me for a second...

*puking on myself*


Whew! Ok, back to the story, it is also vile that Tiffany Shorter says that she admires Richard Nixon around the 3:30 mark. She says that he was a moderate Republikkkan who instituted Affirmative Action, which she believes was needed at the time, yet she is now "ambiguous" about the program. What she probably doesn't know is that Nixon also allowed the infamous GOP "Southern Strategy" of using racism to begin under his oversight, which helped his party retain the electoral voting bloc of the south. In other words, starting Affirmative Action was probably the least that Nixon could do for turning the racial hatred that seethed beneath the Mason-Dixon Line against the party of Lyndon Johnson, who actually listened to great men like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Sure, we can get jobs at quota numbers from Republikkkans, but we can't have the power to create political change without a Democrat.


I look at Richard and Tiffany's faces, which have the putrid look of moral superiority and/or intellectual elitism, and I wish I could pepper spray them through my laptop screen. I am very averse to smart people who let themselves be promoted as racial pioneers by racists who use them as lab rats. Black Republikkkans are nothing but doppelgangers, like all Republikkkans. I look at them as walking brain-dead corpses, trying to recruit the rest of us into a hellish existence just so that they'll have company as they wait for a plate of dinner scraps to slide under their doors from inside the master's house.

THE REPUBLICKINS' SECRET TO LONG LIFE

Look, it's my job to pay attention, ok? While you were sleeping, I've been noticing that these GOP dinosaurs never seem to die like natural human beings. Like, I think George H.W. Bush is 665 years old, on the low. It might be a rule that once you become down with them, you become one of the undead and have to drink the blood of innocent Shi-Tzus, stolen from gay liberal couples, to achieve everlasting life and help Satan to endlessly steal presidential elections. Truth be told, I used to think Republickins were secretly the descendants of dragon-lizards that once dwelled in moist caves, ate runaway squirrels and wiped their arses on nearby stalagmites. But no, my brothers and sisters...

Courtesy of Ernest Borgnine, a recent tv guest of Fox & Friends, This is why Republickins live for thousands of years:





For the record, I totally believe him. He looks like he hasn't seen female loins since Prohibition. The question is, using the borrowed logic that sexual pleasure is good for the mind, body and soul, shouldn't a person live even longer if they actually had a partner - preferably of the opposite sex - with whom they could have intercourse? Or is it really the process of rubbing one out that makes the difference?

I think it's much simpler. Republickins are wankers who never make contact with other humans, so they avoid the germs. What a bunch of weird losers.

LEGALLY-DEAD MCs

Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick, a.k.a. "The Hip-Hop Mayor", is legally dead, but you already knew that. Yes, this idiot cheated on his wife, Carlita, with his chief of staff, Christine Beatty.




Yes, he lied about it. Yes, he was brought up on federal charges of perjury. But now, yes, this dumb-ass took an unauthorized trip to Canada recently (probably for some good weed) and got his ass arrested upon returning to the city he's supposed to be running.

He is now in the hoosegow. The clink. The concrete hotel, if you will.




Check the excuse stupid-ass reason your homeboy gave when he offered an apology to District Court Judge Ronald Giles about his conduct:

"I've been living in an incredible state of pressure and scrutiny."

But Giles sent the mayor to jail anyway, telling him he would have given any defendant the same treatment.

SOURCE: TIME.COM

I'm dead @ this. I mean, you're a young, African-American mayor. You claim to represent my culture. You come from a politically-known family. You're even built like a football player, which is a breakthrough - people are sometimes weary of large black men in powerful positions. But despite all of these good things going for you, you couldn't keep your Piston in your pants long enough to be an example for young black men who might aspire to your job someday.




Please believe that the media is going to love this, especially when a black guy is running for POTUS. Let's just hope they keep dude locked up through the rest of the presidential campaign, so he doesn't have time to pull some of that Marion Barry "race card" or "it was a setup" bullshit.

I can't take it. I'm off to drink some white tea.

NICOTINE ADDICTION: HARD TO KILL

I'm in my second night of smokeless life.


It's crazy how easy it is to stop inhaling tobacco smoke if you distract yourself with work, exercise and other alternative activities. I'm one of those people who thinks that smoking cigarettes is an oral fixation more than a physical addiction; eff what science says.

I've stopped smoking cigarettes before, for almost two years actually. The only thing that made me start back was a bad incident hundreds of miles away. I was powerless at the time to do anything to stop it, so the only option I felt I had was to smoke some Newports.

Free advice: Don't smoke Newports, especially when you've quit smoking for more than a year. I literally felt a cloud of death overtaking my chest from the inside after the very first pull. It is a feeling I never want to have again, because it was like Satan himself had entered my arteries and lungs, laughing and shouting, "Yes! I've got your little mulatto ass now!" The cigarette did nothing but start my nicotine dependency all over like a bad relationship with a revolving door.





Smoking is a nasty, disgusting, dirty and stinky habit. But when I'm smoking a cigarette, I don't have a problem with that. Especially when I'm drinking and in front of my laptop. But after recently realizing that my strength, endurance and breathing had been badly affected by the constant cheap smoke, I decided to give life another try.

So I'm going on the lam again. Running away from the Parliament Menthol Lights. I'm not missing the nicotine as much as I miss the activity. I guess I'll practice the saxophone, write another blog, fold some clothes, download some music, organize some important files, return some emails... damn. I guess there's a lot to be done. And maybe in a couple of days I might even be able to take my ass to the gym and finally get rid of the lingering baby fat I've carried for 30 years.


If anybody has any other suggestions for a successful end to my seven-year tobacco habit, I'm all ears. Until then, I'm just going to find some shit to do and wait until the itch is gone. Wish me luck.

TIGHT JEANS KILLED HIP-HOP

I'm not even going to type too much on this one. It seems that the backlash against tight jeans is now a full-blown movement. But here, for your viewing pleasure or disgust are a few YouTubes of the current state of fashion affairs in Hip-Hop.

All I can say to this is Nolo.











One thing I will say: it's funny how Jim Jones (Dipset/Byrdgang) is DISSING KANYE WEST about what he considers the ultimate Hip-Hop fashion faux pas, yet HE WAS CALLED OUT BY TRU LIFE not long ago. Misdirection, I guess. Hey, whatever works.



Shout out to THE VILLAGE VOICE for investigating this hood tragedy. America, it's time for a (wardrobe) change.

THE OBAMA CRUSADE: Day 20

TODAY:


John McCain learned that his recent campaign ads against Obama, which attempt to paint Obama as nothing more than a celebrity cult leader of sorts, are not only confusing and misleading, but they are even considered a waste of money by his own campaign donors.

Kathy Hilton, known to the world as Paris's mother, has already given $4,600 to McCain for his presidential campaign. Yet she has come forward and posted a blog on THE HUFFINGTON POST of all places, calling the advertisement below an unwise way to use the money he is collecting from Republickins like herself.

"It is a complete waste of the money John McCain's contributors have donated to his campaign," Hilton wrote.

"It is a complete waste of the country's time and attention at the very moment when millions of people are losing their homes and their jobs. And it is a completely frivolous way to choose the next President of the United States," she wrote.

SOURCE: REUTERS

MCCAIN VIDEO:




Notice how geezerly, antique, geriatric, elderly, antiquated and hoary this guy McCain looks at the end of the above commercial. It's like he's looking out of the window of his retirement home bingo room and thinking, "Pick me America! I'm the one with the AARP membership!"


OBAMA RESPONSE AD:




I love that line - "Same Old Politics." So, who won the day? You tell me. Or better yet, let's go beyond the grave and ask axe the late great Tupac Shakur...


"All you old rappers trying to advance
It's all over now; take it like a man...
N*ggas looking like Larry Holmes - flabby and sick,
Trying to player-hate on my shit? You eat a fat d*ck!"
2PAC - Against All Odds


(My name is not Senator Barack Obama, and he did not approve this message. But I do support him for POTUS.)

THE OBAMA CRUSADE: Day 12 - YOU CAN'T CHEAT THE REAPER

Truth be told, I was astounded - yes, astounded - at the comment that I received on one of my earlier posts. The comment appeared on one of THE OBAMA CRUSADES -you know, that series I've been posting for the last 12 days - and I admit that I really believed that some guy named John Maszka was one of those dudes who just started reading my blogs that I'd have to respond to. I mean, this dude went in on some foreign policy, self-righteous bullshit.


Check out the comment snippet:

"The really disappointing aspect of Obama is that he was supposed to be the peace candidate. But everything that he appeared to stand for- multiculturalism, religious toleration, peace, diplomacy- all are overshadowed by this foolish idea of moving the war to Pakistan.

Moving the war on terror to Pakistan could have disastrous consequences on both the political stability in the region, and in the broader balance of power. Scholars such as Richard Betts accurately point out that beyond Iran or North Korea, “Pakistan may harbor the greatest potential danger of all.” With the current instability in Pakistan, Betts points to the danger that a pro-Taliban government would pose in a nuclear Pakistan. This is no minor point to be made. While the Shi’a in Iran are highly unlikely to proliferate WMD to their Sunni enemies, the Pakistanis harbor no such enmity toward Sunni terrorist organizations. Should a pro-Taliban or other similar type of government come to power in Pakistan, Al-Qaeda’s chances of gaining access to nuclear weapons would dramatically increase overnight.

There are, of course, two sides to every argument;"

SOURCE: JOHN MASZKA

If you care to read the rest, the comment is on THE OBAMA CRUSADES: Day 11. Just scroll down until you see it.


Now, I was all good and ready to respond with fire, but then my wits kicked in. And I thought to myself, "What the fuck? Who is this guy? And what makes my dead-ass blog worthy of such a ridiculous rant?" I mean, dude wasn't wrong for stating his opinion, which even as respectable as it seemed I could easily backhand away with just a flick of my intellectual wrist, but come on now... who am I to make somebody, with that much to say on a blog, so self-righteous and aggy?

I had to investigate.

Lo and behold, I discovered the truth. This "John Maszka" guy is some type of geek lurker that wants me to publish his thoughts, just so that I can get excited enough to respond. I only found this out because I Googled the phrase "Thathiah Ravi (2006:119, 121)," which was included in his comment just further down from the segment I quoted above. I looked it up on the internet, and that's when I realized that homeboy was a fraud.


IF YOU CLICK HERE, you'll find the exact same quoted text that "John Maszka" posted to my blog.

That only means that this guy is a sucker, and I refuse to accept the same comment that you give to another blog, unless of course I happened to write the exact same shit as the other blog where you posted that exact same comment. And you know better than that. I'll post such buffoonery just once, just so you can see how I will thrash this shit in the future, even if it means it'll crash my desktop hard drive.

Either you're trying to size me up with a virus (nolo) or you're just an unimaginative loser. Either way, you ain't got no wins in mi casa. You ain't even in mi clasa. I never copy and paste comments. Me and that/those other blogs you visit have nothing in common. I'm the truth, and I'm deadly to dewshbags like you. Now run your sorry ass back to Rush Limbaugh's blog or something. Go suck Sean Hannity's dick.



"John Maszka", you are officially dead. Stay off my blog, even if it means you have to kill yourself. Besides this post, you and your kind will never get a response from The Most Deadly, especially if you can't even come up with an original comment.





"I ain't have to read The Art of War to slay men..."
Nas - "Nazareth Savage"



SHOUT OUT TO SNICKERS.

CAREER-DEAD MCs

[please notice the phrase "Promotional Use Only" underneath "THE BOSS." True, true.]



If you haven't already heard - and it's everywhere right now - the rap career of "Rick Ross" is OFFICIALLY OVER.

The Smoking Gun has found records that *allegedly* show "Rick Ross", a.k.a. William Roberts, at some type of training graduation for correctional officers in Florida, shaking hands and smiling in a tight-ass brown and beige uniform.

This has been a two-week saga in the Hip-Hop world, as it involves a famous rapper (Roberts) that claimed to be a cocaine dealer and outlaw leader of his own Florida narcotics gang. He even went as far as naming himself after a California crack lord - "Freeway" Ricky Ross. As you would guess, being a one-time employee of the state prison system doesn't bode well for the reputation, especially while we're still in the "Stop Snitching" era. But creating the false persona of a criminal when you were actually trained to babysit them for the government is, if true, inexcusible and unacceptable.


Trick Daddy had already put the word out that Roberts used to be a prison guard, but without providing proof, it was just held as a possibility and an unfounded joke. But once the word got strong enough to spread, Media Take Out posted the picture, and the internet went nuts like Jesse. Soon after, Roberts put out his own YouTube joint, denying that he was ever a prison guard and saying that he would "see" Trick Daddy.





But now, all we see is that TDD was on point. I don't think it's so unreasonable that a prison guard could become a rap artist, or even a cocaine dealer-turned rap artist, but why front for the camera? You don't have to lie to kick it. Bad day - William Roberts. Good day - Trick Daddy.


"Fake thug, no love / you get the snub / CB-4 'Gusto' / Your luck low / I didn't know 'till I was drunk, though..."
Nas - The Message

MALE SPIDERS ARE RAPISTS

Scientific researchers at the University of Aarhus (?) have made a brilliant discovery - one whose announcement is sure to spread like cobwebs in the circles of internet-saavy spiders. Female arachnids, beware: your men are out chea boning unsuspecting potential mates by playing dead and stealing the ass.





Hell, at least the spiders don't have to live in Darfur these days, for God's sake. Then not only would such savage spiders rape the ladies, they might just kill them and the kids, then burn it all down on the way to the next unfortunate victim.

So don't you PETA pricks get mad at me if you see me in the woods squashing the shit out of some tarantula or black widow. He might be the "Chester" that sodomized Charlotte.


CLICK HERE for the article.


"I'm gunnin' for your spouse, tryin' to send that bitch back to her maker, and if you've got a daughter older then 15, I'm a rape her, take her on the living room floor, right there in front of you, then ask you seriously, what you wanna do?"
DMX - "X is Coming" (nolo)

LEGALLY-DEAD MCs

Here's what happens when you try to legally represent yourself as an attorney in court, and you realize that you've dug your own grave. If all else fails, feel free to pull the fake heart attack card.


So classic I had to jack it (nolo). Please people, let professionals do their jobs. Shout out to Fresh over at C&D. As she said, this deserves an NAACP Image Award for "Outstanding Fuckery in a Daytime Drama." Hilarious.

THE UNDERWRITER NEEDS HATERS

Ok, so my plan with Mr. Pussy, a.k.a. "Anonymous", didn't produce any real results. Dude, you should be fucking ashamed, whatever your name is. Because, of course, anybody that comments on The Deadliest Blog in America should know better than to challenge the landlord. But I thought you were willing to debate The Best Writer Alive, on some real intellectual ish! Come on hoe; where's the bravado?

But really, I don't want that to affect all of the other potentially great haters of the world. Yes, hate is dead, but this blog is also dead, so I still accept hate in all of its unholiness. Like W said, "Bring it on!" If you have hate on your heart, let it out.

I'm sitting at my favorite drunken safe haven, having a discussion with others about why you need haters. And I just realized that even though I have haters in abundance, I need them to speak louder. And I'm not going to ask axe nicely much longer. You don't want me to speak easy; it'll get ugly.

So please, haters, let me know if you catch feelings. It's not necessary to comment on this one, but in the future, come up with a name, for God's sake. And tell me how you really feel, for real. Or stay the fuck off my blog.

Hey, at least I'm honest.

BACK 2 LIFE... BACK 2 REALITY

Dear beloved readers: run yourself a hot bath and drop a bottle of black ink in your already dirty-ass tub water and get ready to scrub away the rigor mortis of bad writers and bitch-made editors. I’m coming back around.

Let’s just say that some weird cat had the nerve to post an anonymous comment on the blog of His Supreme Awesomeness, and it kind of made sparks. If you’d like to read it, just CLICK HERE and start at the actual blog post. Then look down at what this urethra sponge had to say about what was obviously intended as a joke. Gotta love those internet militants!





I mean, dude got sensitive. I read the comment and was taken aback by the sheer emotion. But come on, hoe, where’s the bravado? You mean to tell me I’m being stalked by an internet geek who can’t even make up a pseudo identity? “Anonymous” is just another word for non-famous, and since I have the microphone on this here stage, no no-name heckler will ever merit a response from me other than fuck you, whole fistedly.

Nolo.

On a positive note, thanks to the few of you who have kept coming back through my two-month hiatus. No apologies; no excuses. I just had to make sure I stayed up while shit was going down, if you will follow my lead.

So here’s some hope for the hopeless, anonymous haters out there. A slap on the ass for all the babies who can’t live and breathe without my help. Things are turning a corner of sorts for your humble and faithful narrator, and I’m just now feeling like I might know what to do with this blog.

Thanks again. Good night. See you tomorrow?

CREATIVITY IS DEAD

Writers are mentally fucked. It’s not a theory; it’s a given. In my case, maybe you noticed that I took something like two weeks off from blogging. Let’s just say that life caught up with me recently, and there was absolutely no room for recreation. Of course, the title stays in the South, so everything’s fine and dandy now. I’m now back on my happy, creative bender.







But that brings me to this point. Why, I ask axe myself, are people like me so damn aggy sometimes? If I may speak for creative types, and I can, we’re always upset and brooding about something, and even though some great writers that I know are always cool and congenial, I can always find multiple frustrations in their eyes. And I understand; sometimes it takes a lot to be creative; other times it’s nuuuthin’. But to all things, there is a season.

This leads me to one of today's lead stories on AOL.com, which for some dumb ass reason is still the internet homepage of your homie THE UNDERWRITER. I’m looking at the normal sensational bullshit that AOL puts in it’s news headlines, and I see a link for a story on J.K. Rowling, the billionaire Harry Potter genius. Come to find out, this chick actually CONTEMPLATED SUICIDE.

Think about that. A woman who is now one of the richest in the world was convinced that her best option, during the fuckfest of life known as her “twenties”, was to say, “Fuck it,” and self-kick the proverbial bucket. Again, think about that. There would have been no Harry Potter. There would have been no billions. There would have been no famous J.K. Rowling.





That made me curious, so I Googled the phrase, “Famous+writers suicide attempts,” and was surprised at what I found. CHECK IT OUT, if you are interested in seeing how many pioneers of creative and intellectual thought actually believed themselves to be losers. For good measure, HERE'S ONE MORE. As it turns out, the best writers tend to be bipolar, like that “journalist” dewsh-tini, Michael Jordan. That dude is fucking crazy – take my word for it. But I can say with true faith that he’s never thought about committing suicide, because the idea is supremely stupid to him. At least in my opinion; not his. Jordan thinks he’s THE BEST WRITER ALIVE. I think he sucks, but at least he’s not a quitter.

But you might be surprised to find out how many of the most celebrated authors and writers of all time were mentally fucked. Is this a pattern, you ask? Does this mean that creative people are crazy? Should you hang yourself with a tampon string tonight?

Homie, I don’t have all the answers. All I can tell you is that Michael Jordan, being the moron that he is, is no fan of euthanasia, and THE UNDERWRITER is immortal. So, unfortunately, it looks like we’re stuck with each other for life. But it is somewhat comforting to know that sick minds think alike, and great minds are mostly fucked. Reassuring, to say the least.

As THE BEST WRITER ALIVE, it takes a lot of energy to extract myself from craziness as it occurs and to stay focused on this blog. The goal is to finish the book I’m writing - this year. Other goals are there, such as going back to school, leaving Atlanta (for a looong time, if not forever), becoming debt-free and moving out of my own shadow. My sincerest apologies to those who expected more from me in the recent past, especially with all this political fuckery, tornadoes in Atlanta, bullshit rap beef and even real Hip-Hop festivals going on that I could have been speaking on. But give a black man a break, for God’s sake. The business of dead shit is never over. Everybody deserves a vacation every now and then, especially when it’s your job to deliver the death toll. I like to think of it as a cycle. I can’t be too positive or negative for too long without needing to stop and smell the dead roses.

So go somewhere and get a life, you weirdo. And thanks for being a mental patient.





I’m back!!! (as if I ever left this bitch, huh baby?)