The colour of the soul

Watching Eminem get so much hype at the mere sight of his name proves to me how conditioned we are to put more value to what comes from white culture. I don’t necessarily think it’s anyone’s fault, just that seeking validation in white culture inadvertently reinforces the inferiority that compelled you to seek validation in the most accessible representation of the world in the first place. That’s why I think framing a discussion about human potential and human oppression in a materialist, capitalistic setting is inherently self-sabotaging and futile. Also, identifying with the perception of those with access to more power is to victimize the self even more and rob oneself of the dignity of self-differentiation.

Many seek that self-differentiation in separation and creating isolated spaces but the groundwork of changing the course of identity and facilitating healing never takes place in the sensory world; what’s abstract and intuitive can only be grasped and connected to in the heart. Self-differentiation isn’t resistance or rebellion. It’s to purge the self from anything and everything that isn’t native to it. That means centering the experience in the feelings and not the perception; to find out how one feels about a thing allows one be self-defined and self-conforming instead of self-doubting and in search of an external trajectory to channel one’s focus to.

Self-differentiation is less about what one doesn’t like about the external world and more about what one desires and resonates with. In simpler terms, it’s the presence of the self by affirming all that one found lacking in the external world. It’s to give oneself what one never received from the parental or authority figures, by accepting that though one wasn’t affirmed fully by others, the very recognition of what is missing is the affirmation of the dimensions of the self. So it’s to orient in the world according to the space within the self, as if one was a spearheading, pioneering human. The truth is, we all are pioneering in that we were created to create our individual artefacts and contribute that to the world, as nature contributes its offerings of its fruits and cycles.

Off the deep end

I’m sad that it’s gotten to a point where saying the obvious truth to someone so absurd and bizarre as Kanye is hailed as heroism. I’m sad because it’s evident that there’s been a major disconnect between what we as a collective feel about the things that play out and what is clarified and resolved by talking about whatever affects people. I think the rift started morphing out of control during the recession and the time after that. That’s what created the need for Trump. People don’t talk about the cause and effects of things, they like to atomize things so that they don’t have to be culpable in their faulty perceptions. When the world stopped for many who lost their jobs, pensions, insurance, mortgage, houses, their cars repossessed, etc., yet not only were their plight not sufficiently acknowledged, it wasn’t resolved nor were the criminal bankers EVER so much as scolded. In fact they were given TRILLIONS in bailouts while the civilians were punished with the consequences. Obama did that. Don’t you forget and don’t you underestimate what happens when a shadow gets repressed long enough. It becomes a monster and it swells with the anger and projections and frustrations that would have been resolved if they caught a whiff of consciousness through being accepted by those in power, Obama and his government. Trump was Obama’s shadow ; everything he pushed under the rug and hid behind a huge grin, it didn’t go anywhere.

Just as the so-called mumble rappers and these corny caricatures in hip-pop are shadow manifestations of the OGs who didn’t honour and uphold the codes of hiphop. They sold out to manufactured beef and killing rivals and doing everything for a check. Those who survived the death of Pac and Biggie and Eazy E, et al, they were a different breed. Hiphop’s spirit died with Aaliyah. That was the last of it.

What am I on about? What I’m on about is, do not fucking lose the connection of things! You find the connection, and you find the root to things. You find the root and you’ve found closure. You’re out of there. Healed. Gone. Why elect to wallow in pointless speculation and rants that neither heals nor clarifies? You do realize that YOU’RE part of the problem in that case? Adding to the pollution because you’re secretly relieved that the world reflects back to you some of the chaos and insanity you’ve been courting and so you relax knowing you’re not alone in your misery. I see people sadistically pleased and turned on by enumerating everything that has gone wrong:

Wealth is no substitute for the truth

People caping hard for Kobe Bryant as if his case is that of a poor black man trampled on by the system, profiled. Nah, these black celebrities ought to be held up to greater standards and responsibility to reflect their power. It doesn’t matter when he raped that woman, how long ago it was, because he still did that. It’s symptomatic of someone with greater evils hidden and if he weren’t rich and famous, people wouldn’t defend him so fast. Black people live vicariously through these celebrities as they represent the chance of making it in a system that is built to always have poor and weak people exploited and used. The illusion of everyone can make it with some hard work is like getting a camel through the eye of a needle. We all know it’s not a system that rewards efforts and skills. And those elite who once were at the bottom, who know that life yet perpetuate the disillusionment to retain the status quo are a special kind of evil. Despicable people with a warped conscience and no empathy.

The truth can’t survive in those lowly and acidic environments of ego and narcissism. Liberation isn’t by any means necessary. It’s only through authentic transformation that there can be a lasting change. If it doesn’t last it’s because it wasn’t built on truth. You must trust that because that’s how you can find your way out of this maze. Even if others don’t, you still can!

When will we start to realize black celebrities are part of the elite? You think they represent us or are subject to the reality and constraints we are? They use our plight when they need us to rally behind them by thinking if they made it maybe we can too. But it’s not about making it into the demonic and evil circles. It’s about liberating all from such a cruel and unfair system. That was the ethos of Malcolm X, of the early hiphop heads.

The reason why everything is watered down in hiphop is because black people’s loyalty is bought and enticed by promises of riches. Black celebrities are the pied pipers because they know the reality behind those doors but they choose to be pawns in the game, a cog in the wheel in order to keep their status. Just know that when it’s all said and done, you’ll be remembered by your heart and your truth. It’ll eventually come out and it’ll rewrite everything written in falsehood. So when people get exposed, don’t be so quick to think it’s some conspiracy. God exposes people.

All I’m saying is, don’t think Kobe and Diddy and Hov relate to you. They are opportunists and have no empathy for the common people. And that’s how they manage to amass riches. You can’t have both your conscience and fame. That’s why those who try, lose their minds, like Kanye and Britney Spears and Whitney Houston. These celebrities who have breakdowns are actually those with some humanity left and they are getting poisoned by the toxicity in those circles. It’s not normal to be exposed to such soul sickness and not be fazed.

Warriors wage peace

Professor Pitt is a thirty-two-year-old African American filmmaker who created a trilogy on the theme of “Kung Fu Meets Hip Hop” called “The Hip Hop Dynasty” and “Hip Hop Dynasty Parts II and III.” He is also a rap artist and practitioner of martial arts, and for Pitt, warriorhood is a particularly special and important concept, in both his life and work.

FOX: You use the term “warrior”
frequently. When did you first pick up on that term?

PITT: From training in martial arts. But with meditation it is even more of a reference — of being still, of fighting voices in one’s head that are irritating me. Or like when meditating, when you get an itch in your nose, you are not supposed to scratch it or move and that decision not to go after the itch is being a warrior, is fighting the physical urge to do that. Usually when I meditate, as soon as you commit to meditating, it’s bam, in the back of your head, or bam, your foot starts throbbing. That’s the warrior fight. I got this from my teachers of martial arts and meditation.

FOX: Give me examples of what you call the “warrior fight.”

PITT: For me the warrior fight first begins with overcoming yourself and your own demons, your own stuff, which is the hardest. It means to keep going in training, which is fighting yourself. And then externally the true warrior’s fight is not to fight physically or to engage in any kind of fight unless it is the last resort. Me, being African American, you run into many situa-tions where people are pushing you to come out physically. For me that’s one of the fights — to not come out physically, because once we come out physically, everything is already designed to destroy us. We’ve given them a reason to do what they love doing — locking us up and giving us charges, labeling me in spite of what I do for humanity and the community. The minute I jump into that fighting character all the good stuff I do gets wasted, and they just look and say: “There’s that animal again.” So that is a big fight with me.

A warrior is being a good man to my wife, ‘cause that’s always a struggle, the man and woman thing, how to be graceful in how the stuff comes out, to be as graceful as possible.

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Parrot the rest 

​​Arrest the president

Too much affection with no protection
Leads injection to infection
Now you’re pregnant, baby to carry
You love Barry, but he won’t marry
Got an abortion, spent a fortune
Shoulda used caution, mind-distortion
Out of touch, out of tune, and out of time
You’re damn near out of your mind
Slit your wrist, cause you couldn’t live through it
Now you claim that the devil made you do it
Undertaker, he’ll just make a 
Coffin to fit ya and take your picture
Pull out the bible, bust the scripture
It’s too late, Tragedy hit ya
Life is a gift you took for granted
Your mother’s buggin’, her mind is slanted
Pain so deep in her heart it’s planted

Someone yelled out: Get the hell out

Evil fell out, but I’m no sell-out
Black’s the mineral, white subliminal

Arrest the president, he’s the criminal

No one’s laughin’ this, I keep rappin’ this
He’s the happiest, we’re the nappiest
He’s the vulture, study your culture
Broke the sculpture to insult ya

Underrated, we’re all related

Assassinated, I just hate it
Mothers cryin’, brothers dyin’
Someone’s lyin’, I keep tryin’
Doin’ it right, ready to fight
Shedin’ a light, steady in flight
Pro-black explosion, doors are closin’
Brains are frozen, I’m the chosen
Allah’s the force for my resource
To slay on course without remorse

Flipped and flopped it, hipped and hopped it

I just dropped it, no one stopped it
Poetical prophet, political topic
Don’t reject this, just inject this
Bold in blackness, young and reckless
Non-recruitable, anti-shootable
The name is suitable, black is beautiful
Mind was empty, now it’s filled in
Time for buildin’, teach the children
You want to erase my misplaced race
Just to make America a beautiful white place?
That’s not happenin’, I’ll keep rappin’, and
Crowds attractin’, and you’re subtractin’, and 
I discover, unite the lover
Teach the brother, fight the other
Young black eagle hunting evil
I want peace, but that’s illegal
Young brothers doin life in prison
Love is life and life is worth livin
Al Islam, read the Koran
Grab the mic and drop bombs
Threw on my boots, stepped to my roots
Black is dominant, that’s enough proof
Separation of integration
Strong foundation, Nubian nation
Microphonist blessed with a bonus
Pray to give thanks and help the homeless
Use the mind the creator gave ya
Won’t enslave ya, but he’ll save ya

There’s no debate, time to penetrate

I can’t wait for the pain to deflate
I’m livin’ in a land of hate
Take my hand, black man, and let’s stand
And find this promised land
Arrest the president

Politics, polished tricks
Makes me sick, ready to flip
Pimpin’ ain’t easy, it’s greasy
Grimy, slimy, slouchy, sleazy
Who the fuck you think you are, mister?
Tryin’ to pimp some young black sister
Still talkin’ that pimp shit talk
Pretty boys don’t survive up north
Now you’re turned out, you shoulda got out
Time has burned out, sad how you found out
Money and cars made you feel real good
Tell me, was it worth your manhood?
Homicidal, that was your title
Pimpin’ is vital, now you’re suicidal

Revolution, execution
Mind pollution, no solution
Disregard it, heart of Harlem
Had no pardon, snake in the garden
Culture stealer, big high wheeler

Arrest the president, he’s the drug dealer
Chief command and got his hand in
Drugs demandin’, kept it standin’
Hands were dipped in, someone flipped in
Made a mistake and stopped the shipment
F.B.I. fronts the fourth guy
He can’t lie, so it’s time to fry
Witness greedier, cause the media
Scared to death and his heart gets speedier
Life in prison, he starts bitchin’
In a few months, he’ll be snitchin’
A new collection, police protection
Misconception, no direction
New face, new name, same game
You took the blame
Case gets older, lost in folder
Yo. they played ya out like a soldier
Tapped your phone, bugged your residence
Yo, arrest the president

Arrest the president

Arrest the muthafuckin’ president
(Arrest the president)

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