Treachery: The unjustification of a (once just?) hermit

My dear friend,

I am pleased to inform you that as I write this letter I am standing on the border between political consciousness and mental oblivion. Yes, in a few seconds I will cross that border without looking back. I made it. It was not easy to get to this point, My journey was extremely turbulent. I survived ship wrecks and diseases, home sickness and robberies. I struggled every inch of the journey and now I am here. Even though you strongly advised against this trip, I beg you to clap for me.

Together we witnessed the dehumanization of humanity, the brutal murder of hope and the destruction of progressive ideologies. We witnessed the metamorphosis of human diction and vocabulary into a very extreme and polarizing monster. Ruthless became the new firm and and impulsive became the new persistent. We watched in horror as humanity was gradually conditioned to accept as normal acts that would normally be considered outrageous and out of place. We saw the displacement of compassion and the radicalization of the moderates. Before you jump to judge me, remember that we saw the dehumanization of humanity.

I am in no way attempting to assume a condescending position of psychological superiority, that my friend is your job. I have in fact come to terms with the reality of my fate. I am in to deep and will become a benefactor of the system. A sellout as you might call it, but i like to think of myself as a self made opportunist. The fallacy of social justice and human equality is now clear to me, the selfishness of political and human activism is now open for the whole world to see. Now i am promising you nothing but will make one last assertion: I am done with the crap and will fly straight across this border and never look back.

Sincerely,

The black hermit who finally made it home

If i could ... then i would

If i could just go ... crawl , walk, run and then fly ... fly somewhere far, where they dont care who you are. Live oblivious of this system that has tormented my mind, if i could just fade away from the laws, the judgment, and also from time.

If I could just Breath .... Take a long deep soothing and refreshing breath. Take a breath because i can and not because i have to, inhale and exhale past all the things I passed through. If I could breath for my uncle Nelson and my sweet loving mom, I will hold their hands for one last time and sing them a hip hop song.

If I could just be half the man that I think I`m meant to be, maybe i could pay my pops back half of what he`s sacrificed for me. If I contrast who I am now with who I`m meant to be, I derive the epic battle of the non-conformist vs society

If I could just see with my soul at the expense of my eyes, my life will probably have a whole lot more NOs and a whole lot less whys. If I could just see with my thoughts as a fundamental guide, then there will be a fundamental victory of the truth over lies.

If I could make the future, I would probably alter the past, cause my future will be filled with many figures that have passed. My boy Bol-z with Abe Lincoln getting blazed up with Marley while my mom is ridding shot gun and I am driving the car :) ... The perfect picture coming from a not so perfect state of mind, the perfect picture drawn in a setting with no space or time.

If i could LIVE ... If I could just LIVE

Then give me hell

Heaven: A wonderful place of perfect bliss and unimaginable joy. A city often said to be paved with pure gold and filled with many mansions. A place that is believed to to redefine pleasure and supersede even the wildest imagination of the most unrealistic optimist. Often upheld to be the final reward for "good" works done on earth, heaven is believed to be attainable by different people and for very different reasons.

A certain group of people believe they will end up in heaven just by adhering to the laws of planet earth. They just live with not much of an opinion and try to stay out of the way. Another large group of people derive their doctrine from a very similar source. They believe in one supreme and superior God but have managed to create irreconcilable differences as to how exactly this God operates. All the groups, subgroups and sub-subgroups under the one God movement also believe they are going to heaven. Another group derive their doctrines from similar sources and believe that noble and decent practices will place you on a superior level of consciousness of which after all has been said and done you will ultimately "return to the creator" (heaven).

Now is it just me or is it looking like there are going to be a whole lot of people in heaven. The question then becomes who exactly is not going to heaven ? Almost no one. The categories above almost cover every demographic therefore everyone on earth is simply going to pack up their bags and move to heaven someday. Will heaven not just become a replica of earth ?

It is either one group amongst the groups going to heaven is right or all the groups are simply wrong because the heaven i will want to end up in must hold non of the characteristics of this crazy world. If everyone on planet earth is actually moving to heaven at some point, if all the people dead in the past and going to die in the future are all going to the same place, If Malcolm X and Martin Luther King are heading to the the same destination as David Duke and Nathan Bedford Forrest, If Christopher Columbus and queen Anacaona currently dwell in the same place, If George Bush and Rush Limbaugh are heading to the same place as Osama Bin Laden and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to recreate all this craziness ... if that place is called heaven ... Then just give me "hell"

To whom honour is due: A tribute and a love story

You were there through thick and thin, stood by me in the lions den.
In a sharp contrast to others, you never ever pretend.
I`m always real when I`m with you and dont have to try to blend,
you accept me as I am, you are my pen, my best friend.

I remember when we 1st met like 20 some odd years ago,
who would have known just how far this interesting duo would go
you are my friend, my colleague, my sister and my bro,
I love you to the death of me and i just wanted you to know

When we started getting intimate, I was almost going through hell,
You supported me through the craziness and silenced that ringing bell.
There are stories we have told and stories we've tried to tell,
because some things we wrote so poorly and others we wrote so well

So now am standing on my fingers and no longer on my toes,
my pen is my foundation and i will say it loud and bold.
So no matter where i go it may be half way across the globe,
you will be my pen, my best friend and its for you i write this Ode

Between a bullet and its target: The final seconds of an ambitious peasant

The world stood still as it listened to the orgasmic symphony of mother natures orchestra. Truly the significance of this day will never be forgotten. The birds harmoniously sang with the wind, while the trees danced to the intimidating but pleasant tunes. As the rest of the people reflect on the events of the immediate past, they cannot come to terms with the fact that his status is now past tense ... The picture of a nation mourning the death of a revolutionary leader gradually fades right back to reality, as he lays dieing in the alley way struggling to take his last gasps of air.

There will actually be no 21 gun salute, nor will there be a state funeral ... mother nature did not organize the powerful elements at her disposal to honor him, and he probably wount even make it to the local paper ... He is just another victim of a robbery gone wrong ... Just another soon to be dead man ... wow ... quite a sharp contrast from the illusions of boy growing up determined to be massive ... The dreams that were gradually buried by the harsh realities of life ... Dreams that were only resurrected seconds before he breathed his last ... This is unfortunately the dominant story of the world today.

A collection of shattered dreams and lost inspiration. The story of a people that choose to stop pushing ... The tale of a universal ideology grounded in mediocrity... "I will not do that dance nor will i walk that path" was his initial resolve ... "Ok i will give a little shake and maybe a backslide or two just to get around for now" was his latter compromise ... "Oh my God how did i get here ?" was his final question "A little shake and a backslide grew into a full fledged break-dance which i could never break out of until my dieing second" was his final conclusion.

I am

I am the product of the reasoning of an unreasonable elite ... I am the daughterless son of a sonless daughter; yes i was disowned by my father, brothers, and even my mother. I exist in a complicated state of illusion and reality as the reality of many is but the illusion of the illusionist and the illusion of most has often been nothing but the truth ...

But what is truth in the first place ? can truth be measured by the inner convictions of what a person considers to be a moral consciousness ? Or is truth a universal fact that cannot be changed by the thoughts or perceptions of a person. If the former holds to be true, then i am almost always a lie ... An antagonistic pest seeking to destroy the resolve of a "moral" protagonist. However, if the latter definition is proven as right, then i might be able to "justify my thug". I am the reaction to an action, the consequence of a choice ... I am the climax of a build up, the result of a violated treaty ... For the choice of the parties to violate the pact, was my incentive to move in, to spread, and also to act.

I am the constant reminder of the failings within society, an embodiment of nemesis and karma all in one. I have been to the mountain top and I swear if they do not act now, united under the cause, they will all be exterminated as single individuals. I am the manifestation of hate, injustice and destruction, and my existence has made love, justice and construction even more attractive ... I am the doing of people but can easily be their undoing ... I am what I am ... I am the tragedy of a man.

Rabbler: The redemption of the rainman

He will live his death labeled the lone voice of life ... the lukewarm lives of lackluster lip syncers have enthroned the lapses of some lying lame ducks. The once laughable struggle of an ugly little laborer has laddered to the limelight with no plans to leave. Laying in their lack, it was their lust that prompted greed, now he lives in vindication far across the largest sea.

Raised in a rare realm of Rastafarian rebellion, He was forced to relinquish his roots from this reputable redemption. Obviously those roving rats classified as repulsive, what thy believed to be a radical message from a reclusive elite. They ridiculously assumed the writings on the wall to be random, while a rear rose from the renaissance rallied the right while righting their wrongs. He stood quiet while he was writing at dawn revealing race, reputation, and relevance have become the parameters to determine right from the wrong.

He relaxes on a rock with a relatively rough surface, reflecting on the paradox of a nation reluctantly trying to remember the future. Reaffirming his resistance to any romantic rendezvous, "they are astonishingly shallow" he romantically concludes; thinking of the countless times that romance has been misused; He laughs very much on his own at that giant raft made out of stone.

For the love of a lost soul: The Jackie Arklöv catastrophe

Weep child and dry your eyes only when you want to see. Morn because our mother cries for me, but she wails for you ... A blessed soul now so lost ... The alternative end to the tragedy of the mental gypsy ... The ending where the gypsy never finds his Atlantis, never finds a place to call home ... The ending where the gypsy is forced to accept the inferior mentality of the superficial city ...

Weep child for as much as you might not like it, the truth is you are an integral part of it and instead of hailing Hitler, you are better off Hailing HIM Selassie. Our mother had sons and daughters of great achievement, but she still worries more about the the renegade elements within her offspring ... The kids that left home and just never came back ... Home is home blood ... And your home will always be there for you ... I call my struggle a complex tragedy which i try to document in order to make sense out of a seemingly senseless situation ... However, the complexity of your struggle dwarfs my tragedy for yours is a tragedy left unchecked ... It is a catastrophe

As i reflect on events from the past to present, I see the tribulations of man have very common characteristics. The response of men on the other hand is very very different. A tragedy, when discovered early can probably be contained with a significant amount of determination. If we however let the tragedy of any situation to get out of hand, we will be left to the mercy of our inner demons who are determined to destroy us at all cost ... Yes, we are determined to destroy our own selves and If we are left to the mercy of our own selves then the end is inevitably destruction ... Weep child, for that is the Jackie Arklöv story ... The death of a tragedy and the birth of a catastrophe ... :-C

In search of atlantis: The tragedy of a mental gypsy

He stares in admiration of the power of mother nature ... Watching as she raises wave after wave in all her mighty splendor. He sits wishing ... wishing that just one more person could see it in the way that he has ... But his lone presence on that beach is a testament to the superficial nature of the people in that city. No one goes to the beach no more ... Not since the color of the water became PHYSICALLY unattractive and the APPEARANCE of the sand became so "imperfect". He sits on that beach alone, with almost no school of thought that he can actually call home.

"How can the mechanism that makes the waves rise and the tides fall be of less importance than the mere color of the water?" wonders the gypsy. "Although the water might be temporally polluted and the sand physically less attractive, why should this minor superficial set back offset thousands of years of majestic bliss" ... It should not , ... it actually cannot ... But as perception has steadily become reality, I guess it just did

Rising from the beach he is set to continue his journey ... he will never settle down until he finds his Atlantis ... An eternal resting place that he can finally call home ... The lost city that his ancestors had mistakenly strayed away from. However, In his most trying and difficult moments he feels nothing ... That feeling of nothingness is actually something ... it is that thing ... And it is tragic ...

No missed calls: In defence of a fallen soldier

The vilification of his actions was thorough and precise: "that man fought the evil fight and died an evil death". "History is always written by the victor" said Niccolo Machiavelli. This explains why this man has been made into a beast. Touche oh victor, his memory has been been crushed. He is despised by most and there is not a single missed call on his phone.

Now who will cry for this fallen soldier ? A man who fell for what he believed in. Who will shed a tear for the one that dared to unite and fight under a different type of ideology? . Who will remember his courage and innovation in the most difficult and trying times ?. Who will point out the fact that although he thought differently, His fight was exactly the same ? Who Will tell the youth that no single person can hold the monopoly of "Liberty" nor the definition of right and wrong?. "The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently"- Nietzsche

A true soldier never goes to war to fight but to win. however, in order to win, they are very often forced to fight. The same is the case with this fallen soldier as he has been forced to fight in a desperate bid to win the war. His enemies unfortunately gained the upper hand and he fell believing in the doctrine that he stood for. Who is he ?

He is Mao, he is Karl Marx, He is Stanley "Tookie" Williams, He is Carlo Gambino, He is Fidel Castro, He Che Guevara, He is Michael McKevitt, He is Gideon Orkar, He is Attila the Hun, He is Maximilien Robespierre, He is Ayatollah Khomeini, He could be you and he very much could be me. Even if we dont understand these fallen soldiers, the least we can do is respect them.

From the realms of absolute power : Why I am not God

The concept of absolute power has never really been physically demonstrated on the human earth ... history has proven that power, no matter how much or strong, has always been contested on almost every level. Men in the likes of Genghis Khan, Alexander the great, Adolf Hitler, etc were powerful rulers who enjoyed overwhelming approval ratings. However, even at the peak of their rule, they never had a 100% hold on power as something or someone always stood in the way. In the human mind, the only person mostly thought to have absolute and incontestable power is a being referred to as "God".

Absolute power and authority is believed by most to be in the the hands of "God" or a "God" like being. It is also believed that from the perspective of God, all things are seen and every mystery is solved. One is very quickly tempted to wonder who exactly God is and what is His or Her exact location. Men like Pol Pot, Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler etc went crazy with power that was nothing close to absolute and proved very clearly that man must not be left unchecked. Thus If i was God, I would probably make Stalin look like mother Theresa ... Thank God I am not him ... Should anyone actually seek to be God or have God like powers ? .... I vote no .... Mans selfish, evil and animalistic tendencies tend to almost always override any sense of rationality or balanced thinking, and if left to run wild, will destroy, oppress and ruin anything that does not eat, sleep and think like him .... And the reward for the most savage animals of planet earth incontestably goes to; you probably guessed it already ....

The level of intoxication in the realms of absolute power will make a man getting off his twentieth shot of la fée verte(absinthe) look as sober as a judge. Power may be brutal and dangerous, but absolute power is lethal and deadly. No person should be God or try to have God like powers as there is none so powerful, so wise, and so rational to be able to take the fate of another person into his hands. In the thoughts of Henry miller, the best a person can do is to restore to others, the belief in personal guidance.

Guns as is butter: An indictment of the conventional intellectual

I exist only because i think, and i have created my fundamental right to differ on what appears to be the obvious. A human beings right to think independently is actually imperative to the continued existence of the human race. However, this right has been grossly abused by human beings themselves who are being increasingly thought for. A testament to the growing number of uneducated graduates we have filling up the world today.

Education is actually suppose to be the learning of knowledge. The process of knowledge acquisition and personal enlightenment are grossly limited by the existence of systems. A mind must be left to run free to attain the purest form of mental civilization. governments, schools, etc are actually blatant impediments to the process of enlightenment, and in the famous words of Walter reed(killah priest) "religion is like prison for the seekers of wisdom". Some of these systems are literally impossible to avoid while others might be able to be gradually compromised into a state of relative insignificance. Any type of system has many limitations and any form of limitation is an impediment to learning. Therefore, the less the limitations the greater the possibilities to learn and acquire knowledge. In light of the above, for any individual to suggest in the least that any system holds any significant form of enlightenment can be considered to be a mass misrepresentation of the facts. Let people go to school as they may be able to learn a little from this, but dont make them believe that once they have a PHD they have learned it all.

The arrogant state of conventional intellectualism is obviously unfounded and in need of urgent review. The current policy makers and "know it alls" have proven beyond reasonable doubt that they are actually "know nothings". They have unfortunately bought into a century long lie that has given them mental superiority based on ridiculous paper qualifications. "Until Philosophers are kings, or kings have the spirit of Philosophy, cities will never have rest from their troubles" says Socrates as reported by Plato in the republic ... Well i guess we have to brace for a whole lot more trouble.

The Evil

In sight of the confusing chaos I fall to my knees and say a brief prayer: "have mercy on our bloods". The rampaging souls of soulless men have consumed the realms with fire and brim stone destroying all in its path, and conforming all non-conformist. Many of the elite are destroyed in their stubbornness and any elements of nostalgia are smashed out of my bloods. The weeping kids are ordered to weep not as these emotionless beings reign down commotion and terror. In the mist of the craziness I spot a faint pattern .. "could this madness actually be for the greater good" ? Scores of scholars and the architects of the system are summarily executed and their bodies burnt to ashes. The blood of my bloods is spilled creating an ocean of agony and a sea of destruction. I am appalled and somewhat amazed at what appears to be a systematic and well orchestrated ideological genocide. The past becomes blurry as most elements of it are flushed out and brutally destroyed. The speed mixed with surprise makes the military doctrine of the blitzkrieg look like an exercise designed for turtles. The level of organization and coordination amongst the perpetrators of this madness shows that what is chaos for most is actually art for a chosen few. Concerned by the destruction of of history i think to myself "how can we learn now that there is nothing to learn from?" ... I am quickly called to order as the answer quickly pops into my head: "learn from this and live now" ...

I look back on the events of the last few minutes and it is crazy, it is intense, it is organized, it is executed with astonishing attention to detail, it is beautiful, it is art, and it is finished ...

Blasphemy

My school of thought has become paramount to my physical state. My perceptions have slowly become my reality and my reality is now too close to call. My prayers for redemption have been intentionally ignored as my major sin has taken me far beyond restitution.

Blasphemy; the most brutal sin that has ever committed me. My pathetic attempts to escape were easily frustrated by an ideology which i found to be simply irresistible. An ideology whose intimidating presence rendered me completely powerless, and whose pillars come in direct conflict with the laws of convention: hence its vilification. The blasphemy of my blasphemous ideology has brought me directly to the border of Hades and yes the devil actually does wear Prada. In fearing what i did not understand i was quick in trying to flee, until a closer glance showed that what was Hades for them was actually paradise for me. Blasphemy !!

I walk a tragic path of glory and a sad road of joy, a turbulent way of peace and shaky path to stability. I am guilty of aiding the messenger of doom and of accepting her uncomfortable message of mental emancipation. I have been banished to face punishment for my unforgivable sins, and strolled the land of torment seeking torment for my soul. But as i stared into the abyss and the abyss right back into me, there was nothing actually abysmal in what i saw, nor was there anything blasphemous in what i thought.