VAN JONES ON MY MIND, DAMMIT

I triple dog dare 45 to attend a funeral for nine (yes nine) victims of a race-driven mass murder inside a Charleston, South Carolina church. I want him to stand at the pulpit of Mother Emmanuel and speak from his heart to a child or wife or sister wrapped in misery. I dare 45 to speak from his heart about a Mosque being fire-bombed or two innocent Indian people being terrorized for being from another country or a Jewish cemetery being vandalized .... 

Then, after speaking from his heart, I wanna feel 45 so moved to solo on an acapella opening of Amazing Grace. I want a deacon, also moved by the spirit, to get his back and exhort, "take yo' time" ... as the entire congregation stands and sings in unison. Then, and ONLY then, can we can talk about the first two vocabulary letters in the word, "Presidential."

Rather than analyze the content of 45's TelePrompTer lip sync, Van Jones got caught up in theatrics and (of) low expectations. Wrong on so many levels. Reading is NOT an accomplishment and every line is not an applause line. How could one person not shout, "YOU LIE!"? - Mark Lassiter

WHEN HOUSE MUSIC REJECTED FEAR FOR FREEDOM TO DANCE

Part of the phenomenon of House Music in the early and mid 1980's within the club sense, was the devastation of AIDS within Urban Communities. It was in the false narrative of what AIDS was, the exploitation of images it created, the unknown, numbers of Deaths that created a fear within communities and the faces associated with AIDS changed the perception of the club scene. Including dancing. The idea of dancing "with" someone changed into dancing "on" someone and if you did that, you were going to potentially die. This on an intrinsic level deconstructed the "sharing of energy" that was at the heart and soul of House Music; the foundation of its Spirit and Spirituality and Afro-Centric expression. Those that over came the desire to separate and stayed true to the music and culture, the words and essence, maintained House Music's core values and survived the devastation both socially and physically. They became the guardsmen and gatekeepers of the music both past and present. Music such as RAP and HipHop began to embrace the separation during this time and the divisions within the Music Industry as well as the fear that came with marginalizing people by expression with AIDS and Homosexuals overall, the music reflected this in culture, interactions and attitude. The Music Industry embraced that separation as did RAP and HipHop (with a few exceptions) the fear and hate within its Art while House Music rejected it outright.

On the level of Price Points and Investment, it was in the best interest of the Music Industry to fuel and fan the flames of fear in HipHop and RAP because it was easier to control and misdirect this agenda into profit. Not so much with House Music. The message remained consistent thus its absence of fear allowing for it to be free of control and continue to evolve into its inner and existentialist connection to it fans. It was in essence, allowed free will to stay pure.

Portfolio of an African-American Day Parade

A recent project of intimate and personal photos taken at Harlem's African-American Day Parade 2016

 

TO THE LOST MILLENNIALS

My generation never abandoned the Millennials, it was their love of the "other" America, the one where collectively they decided to drop the African in the African-American for just being American. The generation that rejected our constant reminders, pleas, lessons, dialogue, history and stories of our past legacies that has brought them full circle to this moment. It was and still is their LOVE AND HIPHOP consciousness that is keeping them from picking up the work put on "pause" and Turn-Up on the people we kept reminding people were not "your friends". When we said, "The revolution will not be televised." We were direct and clear. No Cartoons, No Coonery, No Shuckin'-n-Jivin', No Parties, Fashion Show, False Entertaining Prophets and definitely No Procrastination. The same critical mass of people then are still here now, we just are older, more tired and have old shoes worn out from the marching, marching and more marching. So you can't blame us, its the Millennials that have to catch up on the work delayed and find your strength, shake the brainwashing and abandon the fear that is called "sacrificing for the future".

I CAN'T WASH MY @$$ WITH THAT MAN NEXT TO ME

"On Tuesday, while providing an update about Sam’s quest to make the St. Louis Rams’ final roster, reporter Josina Anderson said that a Rams “defensive player told me that ‘Sam is respecting our space’ and that, from his perspective, he seems to think that Michael Sam is waiting to take a shower, as not to make his teammates feel uncomfortable.”" - Statement from ESPN

This is the same question that was posed when Black players entered into the professional sports area. The very same question that was presented when Women sports reporters were allowed into the locker room. Its now full circle in the Same-Sex Debate (which is kinda funny when typing this) for Male Insecurity in Sports 3.0.

There is culture in the locker room, especially when Sports and Team Bonding is concerned. The uptick in (which to this day we haven't seen signs of this in either Sports or the Military) where groping, raping, orgies, sexual assaults, unwarranted stares and glares, animal and or blowup doll simulations or even open discussions about asking for dates in showers have ever occurred prior to or now that "orientation" has become a distraction for playing Professional Sports. I think its hilarious how weak minded and socially challenge players are looking at Michael Sam as if the NFL recruited RuPaul into the NFL. The man earned the Right to play ball. If he can't cut it ... than "cut" him (no pun interned). What would really be a shower report is if Michael Sam reported how many "closet" players are looking at him. Now ..... that's something to think about.

By the way ... ESPN doesn't regret anything. They are trying to get everyone hyped to watch more sports, their broadcasts and follow Michael Sam because he is the new thing to talk about and capitalize on after last years decrease football ratings.

THE LANGUAGE OF URBAN CHILDREN THROUGH PHOTOGRAPHY

REVOLUTION

I’ve seen sparks flare and rocks fly

Crashing against brows that pulsate blood

feeding

Knowledge and pride

for a tribe.

my Home,

our family.

It’s a light,

like stars,

that dance

Smack

HARD

And wakes the senses

allowing you,

and everyone present know

that THIS is reality.

Be it live or recorded

you now stand at the front line of the Revolution.

I took a side and it is Hot, and Violent, Physical

Wonderful.

This will be the re-start of that circle in Mayan history

where everything repeats because as Man and Men

we keep forgetting the struggle

That life, liberty and the over pursuit of prosperity

eventually and ultimately

kills us.

Bible Qur'an Torah taught us,

this.

We have embraced humanity’s less exorcised

and re-swallowed pea-soup of bile and blades

served up on money green platters and platinum card dreams.

Swooned and swayed to diamond jingle bells

and shook bags of sugar ‘till it dropped like its Hot.

Cars like deadly caterpillars munching on black filled pipes,

sucking hard on the excremental breast milk of Mother Earth.

People followed and realized that the beat they heard was not of the heart

but of the cellular ringtones from bill collectors calling

cursing your ass out to pay your bills.

It was a beat that burped and belched that your stomach is tight and empty

It was a hollow treble that echoed from your foreclosed home

And the hammer knocking in your neighbor’s lawn

signs reading,

… AND YOU 2 GET THE FUQ OUT.

Here everyone in the land is looking to the sky for a Superman

while rocking back and forth counting beads and molesting crosses

with dirty fingers that once traced remotes that channeled every talk show created.

in this reality sits a people who

stopped singing Negro spirituals praising Jesus …

a long time ago,

and replaced him with Pink Floyd

The gospel:

“We don’t need no education
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the class room
(yells) Hey, teachers! Leave those kids alone!”

Because the man got it right:

I and we were just another brick in the Wall.

Praying for simple solutions,

the devil in us turned GOD into DOG

And in return

got a nation that shit and pissed all over each other.

Funny thing about shit and piss,

it is the one true method that dogs communicate

and the World made sure we did not become pedigrees

living in our own American backyard.

Unlike thunder or like lightning, the rumble in the distance

is missing.

No more can we count on the people to carry pitch forks

German Sheppards and high pressure hoes,

or spit and slur words of hate.

This is a different time, a different place

This whole party goes beyond Race.

Mutts, junkyard and strays in our own diversity

where television sells us on the notion that Poor is Fashionable and Cheap is Cool

SPAM is caviar and Ramen noodles is part of the 4 basic food groups.

Holy Men dancing with baby boys and Women becoming famous for their anger and pain,

who could ever image a bunch of dirty kids from New Jersey’s shore

would be the welcoming ambassadors for a generation.

We look around

 and become rabbit when what little is left is thrown in the middle

of a hungry pack,

and we draw blood.

Ethnic blood

 in a frenzy, and we still can’t see that it is all Red.

Because in truth, we are dead inside.

Hollow.

A cesspool of mediocrity and mendacity.

Dank and dark even in our most enlighten moments.

Complacent like meat fried up to give the next generation heartburn and diabetes

We medicate on the idea that we are great only because we are American.

And if we turn down the music, just enough

we just might hear the scant chuckle of Shaitan

and the quite tears of GOD,

opposite ends,

opposite sides of Ying and Yang.

Like the center of the circle in history,

 this is now cause,

 this the catalyst

for

The Revolution.

Work is the sole property of Shazza Nakim and is published with written permission by the artist.

 (c) Copyright 2013 

Tribute to the Ancestors Coney Island 2012