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 The space inside this circle represents my realm of knowledge… All that I think that I know about whatever I think that I know is depicted right here in this circle! I must keep in mind that there is more to know than what is within the circumference of my awareness! (Don’t get mad get smart truth over Lies) 

Chief Crazy Horse 1845-1875
"When Crazy Horse was a baby, he nursed at the breast of every woman in the tribe. The Sioux raised their children that way. Every warrior called every woman in the tribe "Mother". Every older warrior, they called him "Grandfather". Now, the point here is that they fought as a family.

                                                                           Must We Apologize?                                                                               

 Being politically correct as we break our necks to hide the disgrace amongst our race. Where do we stand? Mingleding man to man? Can’t begin to appreciate the lack of consciousness of our fate. Could it be too late?Is there any hope? Of keeping our daughters and sons off dope? We’ve set our pride too far to the side. Children have gone wild side effects of the black and mild? Or was it something stronger? Couldn’t hold out any longer? Striped of our dignity for a hand me down amenity. Unrecognized lies begging for the super size. Must we apologize? Why should I apologize for strange twists of fate and tattered lies? Am I to blame for another’s claim, to rule this nation based on their daddy’s fame? On the backs of my people deliberate and plain. Traded and bartered for uncivilized gain. Long lasting labor, sweat drenched in pools of blood. Responsive to nothing yet yielding the flood. Demanding little reward, as we struggle to make a stand. Looked upon as chattel, denied the privilege of being a man. Should I apologize for refusing to forget? Refusing to let go? Release my heritage? Relinquished hope, prolonged excuses, dehumanized circumstances, immeasurable abuses. And still today, I sit and fret and ponder an apology, lest I forget. The pride instilled, diluted and drained. Blinded, we are by pretentious gain. Yet, the reality hangs over our race like bright morning sunrise. Question? Must we apologize?


                                                                             Boy, pull your damn pant's up!!

I must be getting old. Some of the things I used to enjoy doing back in the day seem so juvenile to me now. The way I used to talk, the way I used to dress, even the music I used to listen too, it all seems so young to me. I look at teenagers now and all I can do is shake my head. Don't get me wrong, I am only 49, but I do not understand today's teens. Or rather I do not understand today's teen’s parents. Back in the day my Moms would straight up beat me down if she saw me doing what I see some of these kids doing. And if any of the people in my building or on my block that knew my family saw me doing anything foolish they would beat me down also. Ahhh... the good ole days. Where have they gone? For instance. The other day I was in Wal-Mart getting some stuff for the house and I saw something that really upset me. There was this young lady, she was probably in her mid to late 20's.She had her little boy or nephew or maybe her little cousin with her. The boy looked like he was about 4 or 5 years old. Nothing unusual about that right? Well here comes the upsetting part. Why did she have this little boy dressed like he was straight out of a Lil Wayne video?

The boy had a chain hanging down to his little genital area, a wife beater, and.... gets this..... His little pants were down around his training drawers. The boy was even hitching up his pants every 2 steps the way he had to see these little fools on the street doing. All I could do was stare and think WTF is wrong with this little heifer? Where is our society going when young mothers are dressing their babies like they just got out of prison? WTF is wrong with my people? Where is the pride and self respect in our communities? I know I did some stuff when I was in my teens that if my moms ever found out she would still beat my ass. But I never disrespected her name or my family’s integrity by going around in public showing off my boxer drawers. My pants were baggy yeah, but I wore an extra big shirt, or I had on a pair of shorts under my pants that covered my drawers. Not making excuses for my own juvenile behavior, but at least I had a little respect for myself, my people, and my family.

Where are these kids’ parents? How can you let your child walk out your front door looking like an ex-convict? Where are the men in our communities? Why are our little boys imitating Cam-Ron and all these other fools instead of imitating us? Don't these children know where this "fashion" statement originated? If not let me tell you. It started in the prison system. Inmates were not allowed belts, shoe laces or any other type of clothing accessory because of the fear of suicide or weapon making. Later on in time, saggy pants were a sign that you were someone’s bitch, his girlfriend, or punk. It means that someone inside the prison had a claim on your ass.

So if the Hip-Hop community is all about how "hard" you are, why are they encouraging our children to imitate a punk, a weakling that cannot protect his own manhood? In other words his own ass? Don't these Kids that are having babies know that their child is a reflection of them? Or maybe that is the problem. These kids ARE a reflection of their parents.
Isn’t that a scary thought? 

                                                                            Bet you did not know this?

                                                                Septimus Severus, African Ruler of Rome
The birth of Septimus Severus in 145 A.D. is celebrated on April 26. He was a North African General and Ruler of the Roman Empire. Severus reigned as emperor from 193 A.D. - 211 A.D.



                                                       The first Lottery started in my home town of Chicago!

Kings Chronicles the rise and fall of the Policy era, the obscured period in American history between Reconstruction and the modern Civil Rights era. It is the story of how Policy became the `State Lottery`. Policy was the single biggest Black owned and operated business enterprise in the world, generating upwards of two hundred million dollars annually during the Depression, and controlled by a national brotherhood of African American men called Policy Kings. These men bankrolled the Negro Baseball League, banks, insurance companies, the career of boxing great Joe Louis, and untold medical and professional practices. They were also responsible for converting the Black vote from Republican to Democrat.