Combat Jack With Today's Mathematics

Not for nothing, what an effin' weekend!!!! I know, it's already Wednesday, but cot damn!!!! Friday started with me, wifey and the 11 year old catching a matinee of "Notorious". The flick was aiight, but we loved it. What was major though, was that the 11am, 12pm, 1pm, 3pm and so on shows were sold the eff out! Not more than Paul Blart, still, there were so many Black people milling around Court Street, I thought kniccas was gonna start selling tee shirts and shit. It was like the official national Biggie Day everywhere (which actually wouldn't be that bad, now that I'm thinking about it). Then the whole MLK weekend which meant that for many of youse, no work on Monday. I'm not working these days, again. Incidentally, do you remember when MLK day meant getting HEATED cause you'd stay up watching those gully ass black and white documentaries on PBS showcasing knicca's getting effd up and hosed down (no Robert Syslvester Kelly) by white, German Shepherds in tow? Me too. Then yesteray, HOLY SHIT. A friend of ours organized this whole Obama day set up where she had some friends over and served up some mad trays of mean jerk wings and like tubs of potent rum punch, from like 11:30 am til' like midnite, with CNN up front and center. That's like 3 effin Black holidays, back to effin back in a row. February don't got shit on January '09!!! But for real, didn't yesterday's events seem a bit science fictioney, like here's when the aliens, or the cataclysmic giant asteroids, or Jack Bauer shows up to put shit back in proper perspective but good? Knicca's is so effin happy right now that they thinking shit is sweeter than Mickey D's Sweet Tea. What was most important though, is now that we have a Black House, it's time for all of us to man the 'eff up and take this whole shortbus ride to the next level.


Like right now, wifey is so effin done with me cause I stopped working since August, gained like 20lbs since Thanksgiving, and stopped showering every day, only because I now sit home all day cause I'm not working again (okay, I'm washing up every other day). But it's good though, because today's a new day. We make the causes today that shape our tomorrows, right? I'm bout to go heavy into a ten day Master Cleanse joint starting January 22nd (I'll walk ya'll through it), setting up some high paper meetings for February, so I can get back to stacking some chips, I mean today, my future is looking mighty rosey right about now. What Barry has done, even with him having the worst effin job a Black man could have these days, him cleaning up after white's mess and all; dude's vibe is on some, "everybody, stop all yer bitchering shit, there's work to be done." I'm with that 1oo%, always been.

One of the things I'm hoping to share through this blog is that we all have BIG dreams, regardless of whether we're following them or not. And I'm hoping that we all can get back on track with them. One of my dreams is that by the time I pass this plane, I'll have created so much wealth that my family for the next three generations won't have to hold a job if they don't want to. It'll be in my will that they'll still have to work at something though. How? Through this ever expanding medium we call entertainment. I'll keep you posted as it starts coming together. Anyways, we all have dreams and shit is so eff'd up these days, so much so that all most of us can think about is how to keep some food on the table, cable and cell phone on, and how soon we'll be able to download that next cd we've been waiting for, on the low. And even though I've been fortunate enough to stay focused on my goals, aside from some distractions here and there, Obama being the 44th Commander In Chief is a crystallization of how dreaming, focus, hard work, dedication, a firm eye on the prize and no excuses really help to make the impossible possible.























Now am I saying dude is the messiah? Nope. Can he solve all of humanity's problems? Fuckouttahere. Shit is way from being perfect, and what dude is saying is that his job is our job. This shit right here is workable only through our collective responsibility. Black men will stay being shot up by Po-Po, Israel will stay heavy pulverizing the Palestinians into ground paprika, lil' kids all across the nation will stay getting touched up by they step dad's an 'em when moms is out working late and Diddy will stay blackballing Easy Mo Bee for tapping into his inner Doctor Strange, but life's slick like that people. Shit ain't easy, ain't never been. Ask Damon Dash. Like, when my kids start bitching about how this, that and the 3rd ain't fair, I give em a nice solid punch dead in they lil chests, just to remind them that there's always a knicca lurking in they school hallways, waiting to take their milks and cookies, just on gp.

So with all this rambling and such, I'm looking forward to the day that all of you's out here will achieve your dreams. I just want all of yous to get back on track, stay focused, make that shit pop like nobody's business. I'm a firm believer that a happy you makes for a happy me. [||] though. So in commemoration of such a momentous occasion, and if you care to, please share your dreams, your goals. I won't laugh, word up. I read somewhere that once you go through the process of writing your dreams down, that dream is transformed from the intangible ether into the physical through the form of your handwriting, and the more public you make them, the likelier that they will materialize. Perception is reality, and I'm perceiving good things. How about you?

I'm also seeing a future where these yung '80's baby knicca's start pulling they pants up from they asses. Ya'll really need to cut that shit out.