Night Of The Living Dead

I was totally content with letting this blog die a slow, crusty, gangrene-ish death. I'd been hired at a new company, which at first completely kicked my ass and killed any possibility of free time, much less the mental capacity to blog about anything. The funny thing is that even while I didn't update, the blog kept a quiet little buzz, and even received some anonymous comments from time to time, including prayers that I'd one day be castrated by my own scythe.

And while the buzz died down considerably (which happens after 2 years of nothing), the praise for this whole experiment remained somewhat steady, the only buzz I was trying to build was the kind that came from quality vodka, Hoegaarden, or $14 South African wine to settle my nerves after a day on the job, and from writing whatever prose I could conjure up from my cold, janky heart, especially if there was a freelance check involved.

I have to admit that it was the anonymous comments that made me want to start again. Sure, many of them are in Chinese characters, and seem to be the kind of stuff that nobody should click on, that is if they prefer not to have their laptop explode or emit Agent Orange through the speakers. But some of the comments were actually encouraging, and some of my friends still ask if I'm doing the blog anymore.

So here's what I'm gonna try to do, since we're all dying anyway I've become better at time management. I'll make better attempts at keeping this thing current. That might mean one or two posts per week for a minute, but I'll try to keep them worth every effort put forth by your ever-yellowing eyes.

And if you didn't miss me, kill yourself.

BIRTHDAYS ARE DEAD

If you know somebody that's a Libra, give them a pound today. Michael Jordan, otherwise known as THE BEST WRITER ALIVE, is celebrating a birthday today, oh my brothers and sisters. In memoriam of his dead Myspace blog and the success of this weird, savage undertaking that you are now reading, he decided to post one for nostalgia's sake. I mean, KANYE WEST might be reading it, or at least some great writers from around the globe. Might as well flex some mental muscle from MJ's Think Tank.

This one was called "The Birthday Blog." It was posted two years ago on Tom's Rupert's social networking site. Since we're two years past, I went ahead and updated it for flow and maturity. Enjoy it like it's the last blog you'll ever read.



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THE BIRTHDAY BLOG





As hard as I tried not to do this, I broke down 30 seconds ago and decided to write a blog on my birthday. My honest intention was to just clog the Bulletin Board with announcements and irritate people the way they do me everyday. I figured this one time it was for a good cause; those bastards never mind asking me to "CLICK HERE TO SEE MY TITS!", so I don't mind telling everybody that I was born 100 years ago today. At least that's what my profile should say if it's working. How old am I really? Well, I'll admit to being old enough to have finished college (which I haven't), old enough to have put 10 years in the music/media business, wise enough to know that kicking a dead horse won't make it trot and young enough to get carded faithfully when ordering a drink.


Some of the things I've learned thus far are listed below, in no particular order:


- Family is most important. True friends are family, and everyone else is an outsider.

- Women will get you killed.

- The truth is a joke. Try telling a Republican that they're ruining the world. I bet they laugh.

- Never plan your day around someone else's schedule. I've been telling myself that for 12 years, and it's finally kicked in, giving me the ability to feel great about being self-centered and to stop worrying about anyone else's actions.

- You don't necessarily have to put God first. He/She is first anyway, and you're going to figure it out the hard way unless you embrace the grand reality of life.

- I'm the best writer alive. And yes, I mean it.

- Some people never change, for better or worse.

- With the exception of what we call "Kush", Drugs are Bad. Mmkay?

- Most people don't read. They just look at the paper and criticize the pictures.

- You can't work for someone who can't pay you.

- Politics are important, because if you have to put up with liars, you have to pick the ones who are most sincere.

- For some reason, Black people are a threat. Don't ask me why.

- The music industry doesn't exist, like the Mafia or the illuminati.

- Sex cures anything. Except STDs.

- Having musical talent can and will save your life.

- Gossipping men are most likely perpetual masturbators. Eventually they run out of friends and sympathizers.

- Celebrity Blogs are like right-wing radio: destroying our collective conscience day after day after day...

- By the time you read this, I'll be tipsy off some high quality red wine. Spoil yourself; no one else will.

- You have to find something to live for before you start considering what you'd die for.

- Capitalism has good and bad points, but it's still a better system than anything other current model.

- People think that love is about sacrifice, but it doesn't have to be. It could simply and purely be about love, if you think about it.

- Grudges will get you nowhere, but not all things should be forgiven easily.

- You can't compete with someone who doesn't see you as competition.

- There are some moments, people and incidents that you never get over. In order to survive, gotta learn to live with regrets.


AND STILL MOST IMPORTANT...

- I'm Free.

“SO, WHY 'THE UNDERWRITER?'"

Sometimes I wonder how far I’m going over the heads of my own dearly departed readers. In moments of personal inquisition, I sometimes ask axe myself, “Do they get what I’m putting out [NOLO]?”

Here’s my best explanation of the pseudonym that I, Michael Jordan, use to best match my own literary shadow. In four equal parts, I’ll now explain my motives with this blog to you, oh my brothers and sisters, so that you won’t think I’m too far off my meds with this whole weird experimental writing fuckfest.


1. The “Underwriter”



Hit up Dictionary.com. The definition of an “underwriter” is someone that either guarantees an insurance policy (I co-sign Hip-Hop) or finances something. Let’s just say I’ve paid my dues, so I feel like I can speak my mind.


2. The “Under” Writer



I was born a black/Native American/white guy in Nashville, Tenn. I was raised in Huntsville, Ala. And I live outside of Atlanta, Ga. With my dirty Dixie pen, dipped in the blood of my ancestors, I represent my tri-state area of the south like a senator and I always look out for homebase. Since I’m used to the Gulf Coast, I tend to be somewhat biased towards any state east of the Mississippi River and below the Mason-Dixon Line. Get it?


3. The Underwriter



Everyone knows about The Grim Reaper. Everyone seems to be scared of him, but these days, people still, for some reason, worship death. So why the fuck not start a blog that made a parody out of the modern fascination with death culture? At least it's better than a cult.

For God’s sake; niggas wear silver and rhinestone belt buckles made in the shape of the poison logo! I’m not afraid of death, but if you are, I’m sorry. You should get over it before we all perish. Plus, why not laugh at something that is coming our way eventually? Should we really be scared, as much as we say, “This is dead,” or “that is dead?” Hell no. We should embrace the humility of our humanity. I feel it’s my duty, since I have little feelings left for this game, to take the role of Hip-Hop’s Undertaker and use some black humor to demolish the status quo, so say hello to Joe Black. Since I’m a dope writer, I do it like I’m doing it for The New York Times. So don't be such a little bitch about it; geez!


4. The Under-Writer



I love the underdog, like everybody else. So I love to look out for cats like Lupe Fiasco, until they start believing that they’re so “Cool” that they can shit on legends like Q-Tip and A Tribe Called Quest. Nope, I still haven’t let that one go. But I still think that Little Brother Phonte is one of the best rap acts in the game today. So I’m going to keep telling people that Phonte Little Brother deserves more attention. But they still need 9th Wonder…


To wrap it all up, this is the voice of my shadow, which has developed over the ten years I've spent working in the entertainment industry. I get paid to make people look better than they deserve to look, and the checks almost never come on time. So you’ll have to excuse the seemingly negative undertone of my style. I really mean no harm, and like Common, one day it’ll all make sense. Until then, to be honest, you can ignore it or applaud it. But I appreciate all perspectives and support from my readers. Just don’t come incorrect, or you will get literarily buried alive.


Viva la Vida!

CHIVALRY IS DEAD - Vote or Die pt. 2

If you've read the post below, which was written on Monday, you already know the scenario. That journalist idiot, Michael Jordan, wrote two versions of his monthly column, just in case Hillary stayed in the race.

The following is the O.G. version of the column, called, "Tell Your Mama to Man Up." It is in reference to the fact that some people are/were too afraid to vote for Obama, for whatever reason. Jordan believes that Hillary Clinton is splitting the black female vote with Obama, and I guess he doesn't understand why all black people aren't voting for him. What a tool. Anyway, here's what MJ had to say about this version:




I love my mother, but when it came to our debate over Hillary Clinton vs. Barack Obama, I was somewhat shocked that she had certain opinions that ran contrary to my own. After all, she raised me. It's weird when your parents stick with a political safety net, while your generation builds a new political reality right before their eyes.

It's also crazy that the Texas primary was called for Clinton, yet it is Obama who is now expected to win when the votes are fully counted later this month. So it's almost perfect timing for both versions of the column, which of course couldn't run next to each other, so I just figured that they should be put out there in some form. My Umi said shine your light on the world. Word to that throwback Jordan commercial...





Whatever. So here's the first one. I'm somewhat interested in your comments, even though I'm not tripping at all if you're too shook to leave one, what with all this quasi-schizophrenia you're currently witnessing.

And now, on to the show...


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TELL YOUR MAMA TO MAN UP
by: MICHAEL JORDAN


I have a politically-inclined family, thanks to genetics. Mom has a Ph.D. in political science, and Dad does his thing as well. This puts me directly in the line of fire to study this opera known as politics, just to be able to join in family conversation from time to time. The "quan" of the Jordan family is beer, barbecue, card games and politics. We go over everything from elections, laws, Supreme Court rulings, welfare, education and Iraq policy.




I had already left Morehouse when my father became the Chief Operating Officer of Atlanta, replacing Larry Wallace after he was indicted for corruption. Dad didn’t last long; he wasn’t feeling the pressure that the F.B.I. was laying down on former mayor Bill Campbell’s administration. He didn’t want to be involved and he felt the heat coming down, so instead of having to stick around and testify against his boss for things he didn’t know, he left office before Campbell’s term was up. And he was right in doing so, because not only did Mr. Wallace end up serving federal time, but so did Mayor Campbell. By the way, Campbell’s still locked up, and some people will tell you that it is an injustice. I try as hard as possible to stay impartial.

Campbell was quite an inspirational figure in his time. While he reigned over Atlanta, Atlanta reigned over the country in urban culture. I almost feel sorry for many of the current students in the Atlanta University Center, because you’ll never know college life during Freaknik or Bad Boy Weekend, or what Lenox Mall was like before the buffoonery.

I do not wish to put down the current student lifestyle that exists in Atlanta, but in all honesty, it’s not the same experience as I had before Bush took office. I went to Morehouse in the mid-Nineties, and my class has done quite well for itself. That includes Spelman, Clark and Morris Brown. This was the true A.U.C. experience, and because we had a Democratic president at the time, things were decent. You actually knew that you could score a job with decent wages because the whole country was optimistic. We had nothing to fear and everything to gain.





Next thing you know, Bill was replaced by Bush, and America was held hostage for the last seven years. I won’t get too political, but I think that besides a few readers who may be too brainwashed to believe, we all see that a Democratic president is best for minorities. And if you attend an H.B.C.U., you have no excuse to not vote in the blue category in 2008. Anything less would be profoundly stupid.

That doesn’t mean that you should automatically support Barack Obama. You should question him, investigate his positions and decide whether or not he is the best candidate for your precious vote. If he doesn’t meet your standards, don’t be swayed. If he does, don’t be afraid. My mother, who is divorced from my father and also a Democrat, is a supporter of Hillary Clinton. She and I went through pure purgatory last week, arguing and trying to make each other see our political philosophies regarding our chosen candidates. Truth be told, we’re different after all, which I never would have guessed before she tried to tell me that she didn’t believe that America was ready for a black Commander-in-Chief.





My point for this month is that I believe in Barack Obama, and I’m willing to tell my own mother when I believe that she is wrong about certain reservations for casting her vote in his name. We as a minority race have no more room for fear or worry. We have to take the initiative and put in place someone who doesn’t care if he’s black enough, as long as he’s good enough. Every time I hear this guy speak, I’m inspired at his eloquence and total confidence. It’s something I want my children to know about. And it’s something that my own mother is not yet convinced is possible.





Don’t worry; I’m working on it.

CHIVALRY IS DEAD - Vote or Die pt. 1

Just in time for what should have been the last Democratic primary contests yesterday, that journalist idiot Michael Jordan wrote another column for AUC Magazine. Actually, in true "Over-writer" fashion, dude went the extra mile and wrote two pieces, just in case. Here's what MJ has to say about this undertaking...





Most of the time, if there's a possible problem with the timing of an editorial piece, I'd rather just write something else instead of editing something I've already written. And in some cases, like this one, the outcome of a particular situation can make a story irrelevant, such as predicting that Obama would win at least two of the primaries yesterday and wrap up the nomination.

So here's what I did. After having written one column, called "Tell Your Mama to Man Up," I wrote a second column for the same issue, just in case Obama effectively knocked Clinton out of the race. As I figured, it didn't happen like that. But it has created a scenario where I can actually put up both column prototypes, because now they both make sense.





Whatever. Jordan thinks he's smart or something. I think he's on that dewshery. But anyway, here is the second version of his column, which will be the one that gets published. The first one will be posted immediately following this one, as Part 1.

Read 'em and weep.

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OBAMA'S DONE ENOUGH
BY: Michael Jordan





E-X-P-E-R-I-E-N-C-E-D… Do you know what that means?

My definition is that someone is qualified enough to be considered viable for a task. If I need a literary agent, I would look first among people who have proven themselves worthy of the job. Then I would look for someone that could understand my own vision, and I would investigate whether or not I could agree with theirs. Finally, I would look for a certain fire within each person courting the position. But it is not a prerequisite that we share the same racial heritage, and if we did, he would not owe me anything besides honesty and hard work for the chance to represent such a great client as myself, like anyone else.

When I look at Barack Obama, I see an anomaly rather than a black president. This is probably how many Americans of all racial backgrounds see him - very different; very presidential. Though he is an African-American, he is clearly not skewed towards making black issues the biggest issues in the country. Maybe that’s why it has taken the black “leaders” so long to either publicly endorse him or to discontinue their subliminal attacks on his commitment to his ethnic heritage. I certainly haven’t heard him say much about reparations under an Obama administration.

Tavis Smiley was recently reminded that no presidential candidate should ever attend a summit that promotes the cause of his own skin color. You would think that with Smiley’s intelligence, he would understand the political stupidity that a move like this would suggest on Obama’s part. Governor Bill Richardson didn’t try to be the Mexican Marcus Garvey while he was still running; he knew he had to be about commonality of people rather than his own culture. Obama is not so inexperienced that he would become, after coming this far in the presidential campaign, the new Mulatto Montezuma.

Experience is more than years of work or education. Experience is the sum of a person’s credible intelligence, while witnessing good and bad events along the path to wisdom. For all we know, basketball may have given Obama the foundation he needed to have arrived at this historic moment in American history, which is pretty black in my book. His best political offense has been the defense of his ideas and intentions during debates, interviews and speeches. He’s able to drive through the lane and drop countless lay-ups while drawing fouls from the other teams, and even scores extra points. Did you know that he has played basketball on the day of every state primary or caucus except New Hampshire? That’s the only one he’s lost (that counts).





If Obama is indeed applying basketball strategies to his campaign, this alone should be enough to satisfy Tavis Smiley and every black person who believes that he doesn’t represent our interests. All sarcasm aside, the Senator’s resume looks a lot better than most Americans of any color. Plus, he has proven his viability by defying all rules and odds by lasting this long in the race. In my opinion, experience is not an issue because he has obviously paid dues. Obama owes black people nothing more than to keep up the good work, until we actually elect him. It is actually the obligation of those of us who believe he deserves the job to vote for him this fall. By the way, what has Tavis Smiley done for you lately?

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...

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BIG BROTHER (Worth breaking my promise)
Current mood: sad
Category: Life


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.


COMMENTS:


R. Niambi

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



The Original

Peace Mike,

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...

THE PATRIOT ACT

That "Michael Jordan" character is a monthly columnist for AUC Magazine. The opinions stated in this post are not necessarily those of THE UNDERWRITER. But since they share the same brain, they sometimes get their blogs tangled (nolo).

(Written 2 weeks ago)

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History will treat the New England Patriots kindly, because they executed a perfect regular season in the N.F.L in 2007, and fans of the game may be so excited to see history that few may remember later what they’re already willing to forget.

Looking back at 2007’s horrible year for sports public relations, a person might wonder what further catastrophes will present themselves in 2008. In an industry of competition with clear boundaries of fairness, we witnessed the hunt for a Giant, the grounding of Falcons and an assortment of sports idols murdered, jailed, or released from lucrative endorsement contracts. We had an N.B.A. referee betting on games he personally officiated, a Tennessee Titans cornerback whose entourage made it rain with both dollars and bullets in Las Vegas and an Olympic gold medalist who may lose more than she owns trying to redeem herself in the eyes of the law. Make no mistake; the new public enemy is the American athlete.

While Patriots coach Bill Belichick was given a $500,000 fine by N.F.L. commissioner Roger Goodell and stripped of selecting a first-round draft pick this year, it hardly compares to the treatment of Michael Vick, Marion Jones, Barry Bonds, Pacman Jones or even Tim Donaghy, all of whom allegedly broke the law, in all fairness. Yet according to ESPN.com, the actual fine Belichick received represents only 12% of his annual salary – perhaps more of a penance than a punishment.





The Patriots and their coach definitely deserve praise. Not only did they accomplish a football Ocean’s 11, but they got away with it with a relative slap on the wrist. As we celebrate the team’s success, as if we were either on the field between Randy Moss and Tom Brady or in the editing room with Patriots video assistant Matt Estrella, maybe we should just avoid the moral hurdles on the marathon to witnessing another glorious sports story in our time. Some people say that America was founded on cheating others. In this metaphorical sense, patriotism is alive and well in America, as long as you continue to win.


Michael Jordan is a copywriter, journalist and book editor living in Atlanta, Georgia. His company, Full Court Press, delivers public relations services to entertainment and media businesses nationwide. Jordan also works as a marketing consultant for Goldfinger Creative, and his blog, www.theunderwriters.blogspot.com, is updated weekly.

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UPDATE: "And you all know how the story GOES!"




HURRAY FOR THE UNDERDOG.

THE MYSPACE FILES (nolo) - VOL. 1

This was the last blog I wrote for Rupert, Tom and Co. From this point, I'm probably going to go backwards from the final post to the first. We'll see if it makes sense, a'la Jay-Z's Reasonable Doubt concert in NY last year. If it is not clear, don't fret. It just means that your comprehensive reading skills are shot to shit. Which is ok with me, oh my brothers and sisters.

STEP YOUR MIND UP.

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Last Call for Alcohol
Current mood: satisfied
Category: Life


I could talk about so many things right now. Politics, Hip-Hop, family, friends, enemies or just any type of sheer fuckery that I might come up with at the last minute. This is, after all, my last blog for the year.

I had several ideas. One was to create a short fictional story about a writer having to choose between his "tool" and his "weapon." After little personal contemplation, I decided to save that one for commerce. Not to belittle the people who read these blogs, but I really have to save something for the cash register, don't I?

Before I started writing blogs, I had no idea that they were really as powerful as they are. I just kept hearing that they were going to take over the media, in one way or another, and it didn't take too many bellweathers for me to get involved. I'm glad I did, because to this day I keep being surprised at how many people read what I write on this page. I have to assume that at least 25% of the readers don't even have Myspace pages, but they read it and pass it along to other people.

Another reason why blogs are important is because you would never have heard about the Jena 6 or any other outrageous injustices going on in the modern world without bloggers. People just like you and I, who decided to put their thoughts into the mainstream without having to be edited by censors, corporations or conglomerates. While you were sleeping, power came back to the people.





But still, this blogging stuff can become consuming. Every time I experience something new, my instinct has been to share it with the world. I don't think there is a problem with that, but I do have an issue with somebody, somewhere, making a brutal shitload of money from people like me who are willing to contribute intellectual property to a middleman. Please believe that Myspace's founders, Tom and whoever else, made a killing - not only from the sale of the website to Rupert Murdoch's NewsCorp (which just recently bought The Wall Street Journal - pay attention), but also by simple advertising. Who wouldn't want their product or service in front of a hundred million confused young people who post pictures, personal information and blogs for the world to see, just for their own amusement?



(YOUNG RUPERT MURDOCH - CAPO DI TUTTI CAPI of the American Media)


Are you following?

Forgive me if I sound cocky. I admit that I come off that way a lot, even though I'm neither arrogant nor conceited. I don't have time to act like I'm better than anyone else. If I really want to be recognized for being different or special, it comes from hard work and dedication. Nothing else, except of course living a life that would make God and my mother proud. But if I do sound cocky sometimes, it's only the natural reflex of me having to dig within myself for my original confidence. I didn't come from being anything but hard-headed, but that's what got me where I am today. I don't always listen, but when I do, I make sure I hear everything. So when I say something, I tend to believe it.

I'm too good for Myspace.





I've been allowing this great internet site to distract me from devoting my time to my own possibilities. And contrary to what we've always heard, it's harder to break a good habit than a bad one. I never felt like any of my time or ideas or honesty had been wasted in these blogs. I've felt more like this has helped me to grow a lot more than I can probably see right now. But the time has come to close up shop.

I'm going to go into withdrawals similar to an alcoholic as soon as I wake up tomorrow. It doesn't seem like I'm saying enough, and already I can tell that I'm going on, and on, and on... But what more can I say for free, for now? God knows I'm not financially comfortable enough to give away free samples forever. Is that what Microsoft did? Starbucks? Sony Music? (taking a deep breath...)

Sidney Poitier told me something one day, a few years back, while we were walking on the beach in California (REAL TYPE).





He told me that I needed to understand the words "providence" and "serendipity." He explained both words individually, then made a point about how they fit together in a perfect order. Using them wisely, once understood, would give me the best direction for my life that was available. He didn't invoke God, he didn't try to make himself seem like an authority and he didn't try to over-explain. Simple and plain, he told me that anything worth having is worth working and waiting for. Some things are worth eternity. And some aren't worth tomorrow.





I (still) get a natural buzz, just rememering that whole scene. I hadn't been drinking or smoking, but I remember feeling high and drunk off of life. I remember being ready to come back home to Alabama, ready to face the adversity. All along, I had asked God and myself, "Why me? Why haven't I gotten what I deserve for doing so many good things?" Suddenly, I was struck with a new question for myself. "Why not me? What makes me so special that I get to break tradition and avoid the hard work that predates recognition? Isn't it a prerequisite to maturity to go though the trials of being a young, confused adult?"

That decision to face life has proven to be both the worst and best thing that I ever experienced. It made me focus on my own pain, my own stuggles and my own fear. It made me confront reality. It made me start waking up earlier and working later. It made me stop seeing people as victims and start seeing them as sleeping giants. And it made me respect time, truth and the concept of dedication to a life's work, even through the adversity.

Now that I've turned 30, I feel like I have a license to be exactly what I want, without having to accept anyone's opinion or feedback if I don't feel that it is constructive. I'm on a positive kick for the rest of the year, and if that means I have to retain my thoughts just to concentrate my energy, that's just what the eff I'll do.

Remember this until the next time I write something publicly: I am no different from you. I write because it is the best way to release my cluttered and long-winded thoughts without being interrupted or misinterpreted. We all have natural talents. Once identified, it's up to us to draw the line and say, "This is my career, or at least the best chance I have to change my life for the better in the short term." And before you know it, the short term becomes the long haul, and you've retired with a lovely house, a beautiful wife and a family of adorable kids. And there's money in the bank, food in the refridgerator and new ideas to discover, even as you go into your eighties. Life can be good, but only if you make it do what you demand.

So that's it. Thank you from my gut for reading so much insanity. Look for a book next year. And to wrap it all up, here are some of my favorite quotes:



"Without a struggle, there can be no progress." - Frederick Douglass

"The future belongs to those who prepare for it today." - Malcolm X

"One cannot hold a man down in a ditch without remaining down in the ditch with him." - Booker T. Washington

"A little less complaint and whining, and a little more dogged work and manly striving, would do us more credit than a thousand civil rights bills." - W.E.B. Dubois

"Every man and woman is born into the world to do something unique and something distinctive and if he or she does not do it, it will never be done." - Benjamin E. Mays

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." - Maya Angelou

"I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star." - Sojourner Truth

""Tremendous amounts of talent are lost to our society just because that talent wears a skirt" - Shirley Chisholm (an ill quote on many levels...)

"What God intended for you goes far beyond anything you can imagine." - Oprah Winfrey

"No matter how far a person can go the horizon is still way beyond you." - Zora Neale Hurston

"Those that don't got it, can't show it. Those that got it, can't hide it." Zora Neale Hurston


Signing off...
(static.......................................................)

YOU'RE ABOUT TO WITNESS A MASTER AT WORK...

For the record, I used to do my Myspace thing. My Myspace blog - not just my Myspace page - had thousands of hits before I quit. I say that conservatively. But when I heard that Rupert Murdoch was buying out Tom and the other partners of Myspace, I decided to take my talent elsewhere.



My argument is this: Why the eff should I spend my hard-earned mind power on something that will financially benefit a right-wing billionaire? Am I the Alan Keyes of Alabama?

Hell no. I'm Michael Jordan from Alabama, and I'm an I.Q. tested genius. No disrespect to the "special" people out there, but some of y'all are too "special" to be excused. Others of you understand that a mind is not only a terrible thing to waste, but it is also a beautiful and infinite thing to expand and nurture.

One of my former adversaries called this undertaking of mine a "vanity blog." Maybe it is. We'll never know, because I'll never tell. But what I am willing to share is my thoughts on real shit in this real world of ours. The earth is suffering. Minorities are going through so much drama that they're no longer asking for help, which is not necessarily a good thing. White people are even feeling the pressure (see the stock market for proof).

Here's the problem: If poor or underpriviledged people don't express disdain or say that something is wrong in this society, it usually means that they are taking survival into their own hands. Which can be deadly, like life itself.

So here's what you should expect from me. I have a plethora of posts that I think should be shared. Not because I want comments, but rather because I think people should see how a writer thinks. Is that vain? If so, that's fine with me, as long as it helps the greater movement.

Whatever you think it is, I agree. So just be happy that you have something interesting to read on a consistent basis, or at least something to hate on. With this plan, along with my penchant for coming through on a literary bender every two weeks or so, you should be quite satisfied.

THE DROUGHT IS SO OVER.