Dead People

My sister-in-law died earlier this week. She’s being buried today.  I can’t say that I will miss her and a part of me feels bad about that stating that out loud but then there is a part of me that wants to own my truth now that we are all closer t death and I dying. I am certainly assured that if the tables were reversed, there would be no tears shed for me. Sad when I contemplate feeling horrible that Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein were killed, but she stirs no feelings.

She was married to my brother for 40 years. I hurt for his loss but if the truth be known, I’m still harboring some ill will towards him as well.  I know that there is no magickal way to go back and change the past and I certainly don’t dwell there. But in these moments, when tragedy strikes and their hearts are aching because of loss, the pleasant thought drifts through my mind  “Karma, motherfucker!”

Over the years I have tolerated abuse – physical, sexual, emotional, spiritual- that many would have died from. I’ve even tried that route when the emotional pain was too much t bear.  And yet I endure. I watch the injustices, feel it, absorb it into my DNA and hold onto to it like a drowning man clinging to a life vest in the sea.  I am well versed in holding on to it, using it as a catalyst for my rage, but no one has taught me how to breathe out and let it go. What do I do with this misspent energy?

I pondered going to her funeral and making a scene, but that always happens at Black funerals so no joy there.  I thought about pushing her casket over (accidentally of course) and watching her fat, misshapen dead as roll across the floor like a deflating balloon at the Macy’s parade. I have spent the days since learning of her death contriving all manner of horrid,culturally inappropriate things to do and say, but alas I do nothing because I know me too well. For the hurt and pain she caused, nothing would satisfy this need. I would have to find something more heinous than my most heinous thoughts. Trust me, I can be very creative. She would still be as dead as she is now.

If there is such a thing as resting in peace, I pray that she isn’t. This must be what it feels like to be a republican. Wow!

I will say to her as I said in life and hope it will sustain me.

” I will think of you as dead until God makes you so, and then I will think of you no more”

Photography is not a crime

Simple Trick #1: You Can Always Take it With You
Never leave the house without your camera. In-phone camera or you favorite DSLR; it doesn’t matter. If you don’t have something to shoot with, you can’t…well…shoot!

+ Charge it up (get in the habit, if you don’t do this every night, already)

+ Get it ready (fave app onboard or go-to lens)

+ Use it


you don’t need your own website. There are many blogs that are free. Form a coalition and document everything.  Welcome to the world of activism

All of This Could Have Been

All of This could have been yours- Shooter Jennings
I had a cure, for your disease
but you threw it away
and you made it clear I was not welcome on these seas
and you threw it away

So I sailed and I sailed for so long
my hair grew long and my heart grew cold
I face certain death without you near

And I felt the storm and swam until the skies were clear
and I found a home along this crooked road

And all of this would have been
all of this could have been yours

All of this should have been
all of this could have been yours

Black clouds roll, right over red doors
as the waves were high
sooo was i
and the moon never looked so angry
as when your walls came crumbling down.

It was so beautiful
It was so peaceful

All the destruction, it was quiet

All of this would have been
all of this could have been yours

All that you love, will be carried away
oh all that you love, will be carried away

All of my pain, that you put on my name
all of my doubt, and all of my shame

All of my guilt, my denial and fear
all of my hatred and all of my tears

All of the time that I couldnt go home
all of the times that I froze all alone

All of the sadness all of the lies
all of the shadows that blackened my eyes

All of the servants, who cheated, who stole
all of the colors from the depths of my soul

All of the wounded, that you left for dead
now creep in the corner, they’re all in my head

All of the dreams that you made nightmares
all of the silence, deafening stares

All of the ships who can’t carry loads
you wrecked in anger, along distant shores

All of this would have been
all of this could have been yours

All of this should have been
all of this could have been yours.

Joe McKnight

Anybody who lives in Louisiana knows about Joe McKnight.

There, he was a living legend. A king.

Yeah, he played pro football for the Chiefs and Jets. Yeah, he played college ball for the University of Southern California Trojans, but in Louisiana, he was a god. One of the best high school athletes in the history of the state, the Times-Picayune named him the Best Male Athlete of the Decade. He was that good and did it all right in the middle of Hurricane Katrina.

His home was destroyed when he was a junior in high school, he was separated from his mother during the evacuation and ended up being forced to bounce around the state. In spite of it all, he helped his team win the state championship, was the Parade National Player of the Year, and the consensus number one running back recruit in the country.

At a time when Louisiana needed a good story, Joe McKnight, just a teenager, with gifts galore, provided one — and the state never forgot it.

That he was repeatedly shot and killed in broad daylight in the middle of a Louisiana roadway Thursday has left many of my friends who personally knew Joe crushed, confused, bitter and angry.

People saw it happen. A witness said that a white man, 54-year-old Ronald Gasser, was the aggressor. Images of Gasser on the scene seem to show that he didn’t have a single scratch on him. It does not appear to have been self-defense. This witness even said that after Gasser first shot him, that he stood over McKnight and shot him some more. Police have said that McKnight was unarmed.

It’s hard for me to not believe that race was a factor in this killing — particularly in light of the fact that we’ve seen nearly 1,000 hateful incidents since Donald Trump was elected. All over the country, people of color are being attacked — many for the first time in their lives. Will Sims, a beloved California musician, was murdered by white men in a hate crime in California just days after Trump was elected. James Means, a sweet 15-year-old boy, was murdered the following week by a 62-year-old white man who claimed Means bumped into him at the dollar store.

While family and friends of Ronald Gasser talk about how warm and peaceful he was, I don’t wanna hear it.

He killed a man. And for the few of us who had a little peace knowing that he was in police custody, we just lost that peace when police announced that they released him from custody. Louisiana, as you may have guessed it, has a stand-your-ground law, and it looks like the state is about to give Gasser the George Zimmerman treatment.

How in the hell did they release this man without charging him? It’s ludicrous.

Do you honestly think that if Joe McKnight killed Ronald Gasser like that, that he would’ve been released without being charged? Do you think that Gasser would’ve been released had he shot a white woman or even a white man there in the middle of street?

Of course race was a factor. Race permeates every single facet of this country. This death right here is quintessential reason why we say “Black Lives Matter.” Joe McKnight’s black life doesn’t appear to have mattered much to local police.

America. 2016.

-Shaun King

I’m Awake. Are you?

There is no secret made of my husband’s ancestry including Scots and Nord. I basically married the blue-eyed Viking that the Nation of Islam warned us about. Although my husband and I are Muslims, we don’t prescribe to the NOI version of Islam. Most of his relatives are Catholic, though those that aren’t but consider themselves Christians don’t subscribe to the hate and bigotry of the KKK.  They are appalled at the recent displays of hatred, bigotry, misogyny and xenophobia that catapulted the Orange Tornado into the most prestigious elected position in the world.  And we all know how he got there and why so I won’t rehash that one today (but it’s coming).

I felt that with so much going on I needed to let white America know that the race issue is not a Black problem to resolve for you.  You have to hold your own accountable.  It’s well beyond time to put your asses on the line and get out there and DO something. Don’t concern yourself with what people of color are doing to get our houses in order.  Concentrate on the mess your people have made.

To my people, BLACK and Indigenous people, I feel the need to let you know that the gig is up. It’s time to unite and stop allowing others to define us. Stop looking for a savior to make all this better. Has that worked in 400+ years?  There was a time when we were a force to be reckoned with. I know that we will be again and soon.  Stop concerning yourself with the lack of melanin of my husband or who has dyed their hair blonde or has the best weave. Invest in each other, in our future.  Support our businesses. Encourage our youth. Create a legacy. Be proud of who you are and learn about your past and pass that on to your children and family.  Then we will be a nation unto ourselves and unstoppable.

I’m woke. That means more than I’m no longer in REM sleep and getting ready to start my day, It’s a mantra to let you know that I am conscious of he systemic racism that has placed us as a people in the position we are in and I am ready to do whatever is necessary to dismantle it.  BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. Does that frighten white people? Of course, but who cares. Being woke means that my obligation is to my truth first and then on to the people who need me the most. MY PEOPLE.  It is my mission to make you uncomfortable, to challenge you, to question you so that ultimately you will THINK and then ACT.

The next four years are going to be interesting to say the least. Are you ready?