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--- On Thu, 11/20/08, Devin Cuthbertson <dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.

com> wrote:
From: Devin Cuthbertson <dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com>
Subject: Fw:
To: dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com
Date: Thursday, November 20, 2008, 1:07 PM

ars

--- On Wed, 10/29/08, Devin Cuthbertson <dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com> wrote:


From: Devin Cuthbertson <dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com>
Subject:
To: dcuthbertsonart@yahoo.com
Date: Wednesday, October 29, 2008, 5:27 PM

HEIL

"I always wanted a black superhero".......


Richard Pryor

“ Ancient spirits say I been here before”

Lil Wayne

The story of Damn Dammons and his family of travelers, takes


place in ca 1949/ca 2008, where they arrive in the base moment
of time to begin anew. These moments entailed them to be
permanently linked to a past and present that they will rectify and
forge in Zinc, infinite in a nation called New Neth. Damn,
Matthew, Ki-il, Boy 24 and Exes were in it for the long haul as
laborers but not in a labor of life/ love. Their destinies will make
them distant though not separate, they lived their (re)lives.
Matthew sails in ship, exploring the Arctic as an assistant to his
captain Peary, being a member of the large crews. He was a
nigger fellow but good. You got ur spirits and I got mine. He
was a seaman but he learned many tricks, upon which he
implemented very well along with the trick of the White Garden
Project - in time he will learn how to “implement” and then learn
how to “reconstruct” – Zion, Axum, Nubia, Egypt Kin, Kinde,
Stern Race Face looking like the astronomer he would become.
It was the assignment of the expedition to implant a project called
The White Gardens for whose secrets he was left in the dark
about but in charge of. He was caught in The Alps ( arctic )
without no trout. Arctic = “didn’t want, don’t know how I got
here….this is where my job takes me so responsibility is
the real guide right”? Stranded with this machine he was
waiting for the Groundhogs to ignore their shadows so the “8th
day” could emerge to be a harbinger bringing together a family in
between hard times. They’d be separet even still. Damn then
spoken secondly about, was not plightless but grateful of what he
had, he was glad to be of service and the job had its rewards
anyway. As these two men left their house it was an inauguration
of an end, igniting a new United States because slavery got
emancipated. This allowed their candidates the chance to come
to power to eventually be Damn’s Nation and then New Neth in a
world within America. Another one (billion) would follow
afterwards. The young president would die in his memory at the
age of 35 having gotten all the way to 1984 when he would
become new again – but severed in a cord that linked him to his
body. Immediately within this Emancipatory moment the Albino
congress would come to power where new blacks were
represented after he won. They would be part of a liberatory
association that was generations old having helped fellow black
albinos slaves in antebellum America. A running race between
two with much ideological difference to be severed from…………..
2, (even though the original winner/loser folded out the story
quite quicklythough remaining thereafter being The President
after all and having no link to get back to origination ).
Unfortunately he would be lost in between his beginning and The
End which went on passed 2008. The century was wacky wack but
Big Macs for the first time - they just came out of slavery – but
managed to educate themselves enough to be electable for the
whitelight’s hearts…... One was for a more conservative mirror
being in his apocalypse, the other was for the US to reflect utopia
in a democracy that was reimagined through a futile(d) system.
Damn’s friend Matt mediated the conflict between them twenty
years back when he met him in his memory. Guess who won?
Gotcha, you can’t! Birth of a Nation campaign one will lead on……
Thus in the future’s history created by these conflicting interests
(2008 ), they won’t have names other than Boy – being
(re)birthed from Albinos (black and white) to rephase onto colors.
We will focus on the evoluting candidate in “Boy 24’s damn” and
his dystopia in the utopia of New Neth through and through with
his “Al” friend Ki-il. Exes, is the daughter/sister of all these men.
Then and now she just wanders, waiting to emerge from an
intimate bag as some kind of infant in a bag, though she made
infinity in it. In her – through her the men are wandering too. A
blackened millennium this is being a centurious time lapse….
lapsing to unfold. Ancient Falcons fly over it silhouetted, too close
to the sun distorting time. They are the author and his audience,
with feathery skin pulsating on it from white to cyan and back
again – blackened a ‘lil. Remember to remix THERE songs……
HIM songs too.
40 acres and a mule is a term for compensation that was promised to be awarded to freed
African American slaves after the Civil War— 40 acres (16 ha) of land to farm, and a mule with
which to drag a plow so the land could be cultivated.
The award—a land grant of a quarter of a quarter section (160 acres) deeded to heads of
households presumably formerly owned by land-holding whites—was the product of Special
Field Orders, No. 15, issued January 16, 1865 by Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman, which applied
to black families who lived near the coasts of South Carolina, Georgia and Florida. Sherman's
orders specifically allocated "the islands from Charleston, south, the abandoned rice fields along
the rivers for thirty miles back from the sea, and the country bordering the St. Johns river,
Florida." There was no mention of mules in Sherman's order, although the Army may have
distributed them anyway. Federal and state homestead grants of the time ranged from 1/4
section up to a full section.
After the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln, his successor, Andrew Johnson, revoked
Sherman's Orders. It is sometimes mistakenly claimed that Johnson also vetoed the enactment of
the policy as a federal statute (introduced as U.S. Senate Bill 60). In fact, the Freedmen's Bureau
Bill which he vetoed made no mention of grants of land or mules. (Another version of the
Freedmen's bill, also without the land grants, was later passed after Johnson's second veto was
overridden.)
By June 1865, around 10,000 freed slaves were settled on 400,000 acres (1,600 km²) in Georgia
and South Carolina. Soon after, President Andrew Johnson reversed the order and returned the
land to its white former owners. Because of this, the phrase has come to represent the failure of

Reconstruction and the general public to assist African Americans.


[edit] Appearance in popular culture
• Promoters of income tax scams have claimed that African Americans are entitled to a tax
credit for slave reparations, sometimes claiming that African Americans can deduct the
cost of 40 acres (160,000 m2) and a mule from their taxable income. The IRS considers
these to be frivolous tax arguments and has prosecuted persons who attempt to avoid
income tax in such a manner. [1]
• E. L. Doctorow fictionalizes an account of Sherman's order in his 2005 book The March.
• A brief scene in the film Gone with the Wind pictures freed slaves listening to a
carpetbagger promising them 40 acres (160,000 m2) and a mule.
• Spike Lee, a prominent African American film director, named his production company
40 Acres & A Mule Filmworks.
• The West Wing episode "Six Meetings Before Lunch" makes specific reference to Special
Field Orders, No. 15 and the phrase "40 acres and a mule."
• Layzie Bone Bone Thugs-N-Harmony and Young Noble from the album Thug Stories,
the song "Put Me in a Cell" references "waiting on my forty acres and a blunt to blaze
from the slavery you gave me a racist way"
• In the song entitled, "Dear Mr. President" from the album '2pac + Tha Outlawz', Tupac
Shakur asks "Where's our 40 acres and a mule fool?" to President Clinton
• Was also referenced in the 2004 Kanye West hit song "All Falls Down": "We tryin' to buy
back our 40 acres (160,000 m2)"
• Parliament mentions 40 acres and a mule in their song about Washington D.C.,
"Chocolate City."
• Gov't Mule, in the song "Mule", Warren Haynes sings in the chorus "Where's my mule?
Where's my forty acres?"

• Z
Most recently referenced by Jay- in the song "Say Hello": "Y'all ain't gave me 40
Acres and a mule/So I got my Glock 40 now I'm cool"

• Lyrics from "Who Stole the Soul?" on Public Enemy's Fear


Black Planet mention both items: "Got a question for Jack ask him 40 acres and a mule
of a

Jack."
• In the song "Nellyville" performed by Hip-Hop artist Nelly, in describing a fictional city,
he sings "40 acres and a mule, fuck that, Nellyville, 20 acres and a pool."
• In the song "On my way to Georgia": Fishscales says "40 acres and mule give me 2 and a
porsche"
• On the episode of The Daily Show on November 6 2008, Senior Black Correspondent
Larry Wilmore made a reference to 40 acres and a mule when speaking about President-
Elect Barack

and a mule"
O ma ba . He says "we would have been happy with 40 acres

• In an episode of "My Name is Earl" Joy Turner makes reference to this, believing that her
African-American husband Darnell and their son have it coming to them. When Darnell
tells her his family migrated from Canada, she tells him "When they come around with
the mules, you let me do the talking!"

[ e

d it] Primary sources
Library of Congress: A Century of Lawmaking for a New Nation: U.S. Congressional
Documents and Debates, 1774-1875: "An act to enlarge the powers of the Freedmen's
Bureau," 39th Congress, 1st Session, S.60
• Significant Dates on Black Land Loss - from Federation of Southern Cooperatives Land
Assistance Fund

Slavery in the United States


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Peter, a slave from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 1863. The scars are a result of a
whipping by his overseer, who was subsequently fired by the master. It took two
months to recover from the beating.

Slavery in the United States began soon after English colonists first settled Virginia in 1607
and lasted as a legal institution until the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment to the United
States Constitution in 1865.
Before the widespread establishment of chattel slavery, much labor was organized under a
system of bonded labor known as indentured servitude. This typically lasted for several years for

white and black alike, and it was a means of using labor to pay the costs of
transporting people to the colonies.[1] By the 18th century, court rulings established the racial
basis of the American incarnation of slavery to apply chiefly to Black Africans and people of
African descent, and occasionally to Native Americans. A 1705 Virginia law stated slavery would
apply to those peoples from nations that were not Christian.[2] In part because of the success of
tobacco as a cash crop in the Southern colonies, its labor-intensive character caused planters to
import more slaves for labor by the end of the 17th century than did the northern colonies. The
South had a significantly higher number and proportion of slaves in the population.[1] Religious
differences contributed to this geographic disparity as well.
From 1654 until 1865, slavery for life was legal within the boundaries of much of the present
United States.[3] Most slaves were black and were held by whites, although some Native
Americans and free blacks also held slaves; there were a small number of white slaves as well.

southern
The majority of slaveholding was in the

United States where most

slaves were engaged in an efficient machine-like gang system of agriculture. According to the
1860 U.S. census, nearly four million slaves were held in a total population of just over 12
million in the 15 states in which slavery was legal.[4] Of all 8,289,782 free persons in the 15 slave
states, 393,967 people (4.8%) held slaves, with the average number of slaves held by any single
owner being 10.[4][5] The majority of slaves were held by planters, defined by historians as those
who held 20 or more slaves.[6] Ninety-five percent of black people lived in the South, comprising
one-third of the population there, as opposed to 2% of the population of the North.[7] The wealth
of the United States in the first half of the 19th century was greatly enhanced by the labor of
African Americans.[8][9]
But with the Union victory in the American Civil War, the slave-labor system was abolished in
the South.[10] This contributed to the decline of the postbellum Southern economy, but it was
most affected by the continuing decline in the price of cotton through the end of the century.[11]
That made it difficult for the region to recover from the war, as did its comparative lack of
infrastructure, which kept products from markets. The South faced significant new competition
from foreign cotton producers such as India and Egypt . Northern industry,
which had expanded rapidly before and during the war, surged even further ahead of the South's
agricultural economy. Industrialists from northeastern states came to dominate many aspects of
the nation's life, including social and some aspects of political affairs. The planter class of the
South lost power temporarily. The rapid economic development following the Civil War
accelerated the development of the modern U.S. industrial economy.
Twelve million Africans were shipped to the Americas from the 16th to the 19th centuries.[12][13]
Of these, an estimated 645,000 were brought to what is now the United States. The largest
number were shipped to Brazil.[14] The slave population in the United States had grown to four
million by the 1860 Census.[15]
The United States is unique in that it was both the first Western country to have government
sponsored abolition of slaves (through individual Northern states in the early Republic), and the
last Western country to free all of its slaves (at the end of the Civil War in 1865).

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DAMN DAMMONS - On the silver platform our candidate stood -the one for democracy and
made his speech of Emancis Nazis turnout Proclomo. If he won “um”, “ur”, “Uber Menschen”
he could tuck you in a Middle Passage. He was on the podium about to do the biggest feat he's
ever done. Before he said the first phrase he made a sound through his pant’s seams expressively.
More so this was his spirit coming forth into the day schizophrenic, before himself altered in
words. It was the quiet howl reserved for stages and public arenas and this was nature’s way of
getting his engine going with a boost. His body was uncontrollable sometimes, voicing itself and
saying things he couldn’t, nor knew how to utter singularly voluntarily. He knew biologically
that his nature was very polluted suffering through lifelong stomach ailments and so he
composed himself in a better position to feel more stoical, positioning himself to look more like
a leader. He made many mistakes in the past not ever wanting to prostitute his chaos again, so he
fixed up quickly, hoping no one caught him in a disarray composing himself. Transforming he
reversed his muffler from the back to instead use his mouth. It was for the audience and then he
coughed to break up his phlegm, siphoning something different because he never scatted his
‘ologies in jazz unless they weren’t meaningfully plural. He was rigorous and disciplined
intellectually trying to get to an abstract place as a person. Coded and veiled would have to be
the persona underneath his urges. His body parts were interchangeable and so some roared while
others gasped depending on how he juxtaposed them in relation to one another like his body was
a band – a skinny quartet amplified by the space around him and it was stuck to an animal’s body
as a cord. Guarding him were national sentinels latexing on cell phones: "Backup Information",
"Disregard". He had a wife and two daughters, the other opponent had none just adopted Krishna
engines. This man lost the race and folded out the story from being obsolescent. Damn got
elected because he was more of a family man, likable for that reason and he valued it cause he
came from a socially stigmatized setup. Fractured it was his dad not being there, estranged
purely elsewhere. So all this seemed to prod being on the lexicon authority where he was about
to catch true authority simultaneous with Transit as a southern migrant boy enters into his cabinet
making the trip to Damn as his guest giving him a hug when he got there. He too came to a
bridge out the underground and watched through a window from a train…ed mechanism: “dis a
glorious city” he said when he arrived to see Damn near The White House. All the songs of hard
glory days arose to sound off breezy ambience of American slave songs - a symphonic chorus
which only sounded like whispers in the wind (can’t penetrate through some threshold) in the
presence of the boy in front of the White House on the pedestal. Damn’s young friend had tamed
the air of loudness and its porous qualities. And then Damn spoke, the crowd goers applauded -
he continued. As he was erecting his temperament in a correct posture he heard an animal sound
blended with music and the cries of the ceremony. From a wire he felt a tug and then heard
shrieking like iron dragging on asphalt. The falcon's skin is cyan but fades to black, Beige and
then albino white coming through the prism – down a runway in an invisible obelisk turned
horizontal: radiating in a wavy “s”from the veranda Damn stood under, spitting the warred
version of a black dove the figure in Damn mirrored. This energy was out, fulfilling itself in the
air that all would breathe. The falcon squawked as it made its exit drowning out the drone of
alarms and voices which was like a secret through a whisper, for Damn’s ears only. He scanned
the spectacle that was his to see if anyone else heard this odd discordant noise. To him, his
olfactory heard a bulldozer scraping its shovel along a street, an elongated crashing sound and
under its vibration was a moaning of the voices in the wind with cheering, buzzers and sirens
blended in their songs. They didn’t Z and didn’t Hair but Damn did like Goku N’gro/chosen one.
The Falcon is omega/zeta, it don’t like Feta cheese. Just like the beam of light it travelled
through, the struggle for the animal to get through, was evidenced by its journey in its dragging
the edges of its body along the wall of this light that was a tight squeeze to be contained in. Just
as Damn was about to speak the falcon dissipated allowing the air possession coming out of its
narrow temple’s opening. The bird circled above as it propelled itself out the ending of its source
where the stream of light was diminishing hazy as it trailed the falcon’s trajectory. Flying low
and then darting vertically the falcon in the membrane rose like a jet shuttle and exploded from
this vein of light. It flew as if it itself was connected and captured to a cord it went into a
different destination, out the reach of the masses into the clouds far in the sky. Trying to imitate
the promise of this sunlit day but instead becoming enveloped: Damn started to remember the
night before - getting to his daughters and his wife in his mind through that vessel. He had
scanned the environment one last time amazed that no one else was aware of the miraculous
thing that just took place. As he turned his head around to face the audience who was waiting, he
seen a red, then a yellow burst of light shield his vision and as then seeing darkness he fainted
but not before shouting O. He was attached to this bird from this moment on not having known
how to distinguish his dualities and it took him places. All the other days were like being
contained in a tunnel of a white field except for this one, this one that broke the noise of all the
white fun for a second then it’s done. They surf through a passage, start back all over again to
end in sun then it’s done but.....the falcon travelled with, in, through, him at the speed of
oblivions. The rest is history rest24u1dcvi vsugbsyrtb6bbb5^$%$%$&$##X%@%#WY
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The fireplace was located in a cozy spot for fire being in a place where they enjoyed it most. On
the podium he took himself back to the night before he fainted that day coming into his new
office. He was now at the site of a ritual, sitting at a table where his family held hands saying
grace with a blaze lighting their faces. In the yesterday of his today, now being father and not
president, in the memory he was with his queen heartily in heart service with his children who
cherished his pride and ambition - his new soul moreover. Unleashing Keys - Secret Black
Love. He had words before there were words but for his daughters he had none just a secret
language only. He shunned their ordinary corruption towards the mundane and its banal
romances. They sat in the rented presidential suite, had dinner, reserving the day for them/he to
talk about what’s happened and what could possibly come, for he was expecting a certain
amount of violence to upstage his maximum position station to make forever days forever
again. For he felt and believed in himself as the same thing that he had been before – before he
was taken by the bird that he did not know existed now around him but was his mode of travel.
His grandmother prompted him way earlier should they assassinate him and so he was prepared
with a pocket full of bills laced with ancient imaged toxins to be clutched in fist eventually then
8 so he had suspicions about mysteries although being a rational man. He… his daughter’s name
was Aliyah, the other Zaire. They were watching the news of Daddy's success, talking about it,
discussing it but then broader issues came up. Like : "Daddy why does the line on your face
move whenever you're on TV talking but never to me? TV has a crisis with surgery it does to a
honest muscle. "I don’t know Zaire but I'll try to talk more how I talk to you except on TV how
about that"? “No don’t do that, I just wanted to know why that happens” Zaire responded to her
father. "Do you know what day it is girls"? They pretended ignorance - they know but do what
girls do which is force the conversation from the adults as if to withhold that which they know in
favor of perceived innocence - so they don’t confess. A commercial interrupted the flow of
familial sentimentality and an SNL nigger advertised his new album pantomiming in the silent
film then jewels from Santana in orchid coral reef around Middle Passages sank that ocean. On
the exterior it came to surface in a blink. After that show there was a Utopian Car Commercial :
"I'm a changed man/ look at the range man I got a whole new game plan". (I know) "Zaire,
Aliyah this is a big moment your dad’s about to interview with a very important announcer on an
important TV show and I need to know what you guys think". Tank. "About it"! Nomad sounds
like demon backwards and vice versa if his outlook permitted him to start remembering his past.
Some of those memories were in the corners of a terrible land like mice hide from people. His
dreams of life never went in such a dismal direction as backward or forward at this point – he
was utterly located inside a glass grammar sign while licking the last morsels around the edge of
his spoon, being contained as mercury inside the horn of a question mark’s meter that was his
state’s country. Being encased inside this hooked sign was his wily red fury needing to be
sequestered – separated from the brain he sat on waiting to hatch it from the heart inside the shell
of a dot he rested over, waiting to birth them from an imagined place in his new ideal. He needed
to get in it – an egg: He was a question and marked by travelled brilliance. From everything he
had learned about the past, he was incubating his thoughts and “marinating on it” so he could
know from whence and how to proceed. It was second nature and even rational for him to be
thrust in its pain if he acted emotionally. He would be its violence in the period that was not him.
It was not smart enough for him though – not disciplined enough, too temporary and above all
too expected for the exceptional person in himself that through detachment and confidence he
would use to do his job well. As his ancestors had risen from bondage so he had to reject all the
failed shapes that had given him servitude and he mashed all the food on his plate in his mouth
looking at his daughter not reflecting at all on those horrible times as his family dined in the
bedroom inside The White House. He smiled at her while they were watching each other eat.
Then when his mouth was full with food he smiled again to hide his cheek’s lumps filled with
supper. “Eew daddy” Aliyah said as she was disgusted yet amused when he opened this smile to
let out his tongue where mashed foodstuffs and “seefood” lay massacred. Its juices coming
through the gaps of his teeth. “Stop that Damn” his wife the Essence said and his daughters
giggled. “Mind your manners” and giving his wife an obedient glance which hid the mischief, he
slurped the last bit up catching food inside drool like a grappling hook or extensions superheroes
use to save victims from a fall with webbing. Or as a chameleon better yet. The room they were
in had hues of reds, oranges, browns and lots of beiges as it was old fashion varnish materials
with some flies that existed in it - the space. The White House had been evacuated and
afterwards it was remodeled to hold small apartments for politicians in need of temporary
housing in between their trips to Washington and their second homes elsewhere. The White
House was however to be this President’s first home yet in transition as President elect to his
inauguration he and his family had to settle on this temporary home just until tomorrow where he
had come from. Inside this unit was modular, outfitted with paneling that was working class and
blasted with sprays of urban domesticity and so it looked like a Project condominium inside. The
fake fixtures of pleasantries, ran through the space, where it’s nuclei at the dining room was
focused in the fire place and the mass manufactured glisten off the kitchen unit. It looked
important however being spacious and suited to the homeliness Damn liked never having it
growing up being homeless even at times. His study was a different matter. It looked like a:
CEO's office without the taxidermy echoed in a dead owl’s eye to make the whole scene look
insane if it wasn’t already – a kitchen unit. The falcon felt scared seeing the preserved animals
yet relieved once again realizing the space wasn’t Damn’s. It made air sounds too when you went
into the entrance like it was futuristic and hollow. Slits, vents in the environment sucked in the
virus on conversation and then went silent until Zaire broke the ice with a warmer, renewing
breath taking it from a hermit in the North Pole when she said " what’s gonna happen when you
die , I don’t know if I want my hair to turn blond". She prophesized somehow about
transformations that meant future generations of colored kids (like her) having to sacrifice their
blond birth marked hair for fuel needed in precise architectural blood structures - and their
scalps. “I had a dream last night daddy” is how she tried to explain. She couldn’t and as her
father was very strict towards his daughters being able to articulate themselves he put his albows
on the table waiting for the sense to arise from her mouth but she was stuttering and embarrassed
to tell him about the images, thinking he wouldn’t understand. She herself adored her dreams
liking to sleep yet was her own critic of wanting to be able to express the inventory of images
that collected after having them but never could. Her sister always taunted her for this and in the
way that Zaire always made her frustration intensify, storming from the table not bothering to
excuse herself when Aliyah commenced in her remarks. She went into her temporary room to be
alone and looked at videos on the 1949 internet. Damn and Essence not being angry however
allowed her her tantrums understanding how she was growing into her girlhood as a loner. To
him she showed classic signs of how he had been as a child, permitting her solitude at moments
in order for her to think herself through because he knew afterwards she would have an answer
for him eventually. “Its fine” he gestured to his wife. “Leave your sister alone she’s gonna have
something to tell you and you’ll feel embarrassed if you keep on knawing at her” giving Aliyah a
stern warning about being an instigator and her understanding that it was he who truly would
prove the ultimatum and not Zaire, to be afraid of if she was punished. In her room Zaire turned
on her computer and began to cry. Her face lit up against the black darkness of the space being in
a rush for a hiding place not bothering to turn the bedroom light on and slamming the door as her
tiny frame could however making just a whine and then a muffled “pufp”. She turned on the site
to where she could see her favorite singers but was interested in a still amongst the other squares
in the screen that showed a girl against a city background frozen with her mouth open as if she
only needed the attention of a click to be animated. Zaire clicked on it. The girl in the video
looked like an image of what her dad did not want her to become being what he had warned her
against if she did not keep up in her studies and imaginings. He had an extra attention to this
feature in his daughter for he seen the explorer in himself that he seen in her, through them both
being creative and individualistic. She payed these teachings no mind not liking most her dad’s
friends who she knew influenced him to tell her things. As she watched astonished and enthralled
by the girl who was a delinquent albeit yet going through routines of songs and singing them as
if the life of her and her friends were on the line in her being able to entertain. She belted and
crooned to songs Zaire had recognized touching a place in her that made her feel that to her
family and to everything she knew she did not belong. Sharing at that moment a kinship that
made her feel more defiant like what she saw in the girl on the video. For afterwards she would
have something to prove to her teacher who told her to set her heights high, her not believing
though that “this was a clichéd vision of romance hidden in futility”.
The falcon existed invisible now perched on her shoulder and then flew back to New York City
in a feudal future to Tompkins Square Park relocated, seeing crossbreeding of rats with squirrels.
Black Mutants. White Mutates. White Mutants they would be toos. Perched in the open field
now turned skate park reconstructed, it sees story seen through a diamond gridded fence on a
bridge then focused to see another one - difficult amongst the faded gray ambience of clouds and
buildings. Their dust blends spreading the gloomy urban landscape in ash so the atmosphere is
thick enough to burn like its concrete fields. It was an environment with its atmosphere dispersed
densely to its brink that could feed a respiratory system of new people without them being
congested by it. Inside it’s encasement he thought aloud” will it turn blond? “Ever”? “How
does the foreign European accent sound the falcon thinking” wanting to recall those days from
the blond sky, “when there weren’t Crusaders” he said to himself talking about a moment that
was neither there nor now. “Lazily moaning as if too tired for sex is the gal” he answered back to
himself. “Her mouth is something else when she breathes like letting out the last cascade of fluid
or drool”. Hearing this as he zeroed into a conversation between a tribe of these urban dwellers
he was watching and using his beak to make those sounds. “We are the true infantiles”! her
American lover screams swoping into a youthful set of teenagers walking in the city he was in.
To another friend the boy says: “these ScanDavs want the leather real bad cause we Rule with
our clothes off”! The bird said to himself in his confusion mocking its participants he was trying
to be a part of, getting some of the language wrong to sound more like Olde English: “Don’t you
people have sex with ya pants off and if so therefore without a condom on your tongues, be lucid
but don’t drain the air that holds speech”. “Pinch it at The End to save the Maury Povich baby in
a freezer” perching himself like a confident parrot who’s mastered his trainers dialect through
mimickry, being invisible though on the shoulder of one of these persons, the group did not
notice him to critique whatever he may have gotten wrong.“Fuck that nigga’s snot!” They called
back at another pedestrian and the bird felt excited thinking he could enter into the talk at this
point being learned and aroused but not being scene. “And what about the kindergard fasten on
ya lips the same as the major and minor, the way to poles to evolve through” was what he was
replying back to the girl he was atop whispering deafly in her ear without her hearing. “Every
self important New York Rugged, (art related yuppie male) – mostly males – devour their
modesty and humiliation with a pale, taller than 5 ‘9 , pale model with a more ferocious mouth
than theirs” she goes on to one of her friends. “Usually best if they’re from Scandinavia “if
possible”…… “so as to be as impossibly exotic as there mate’s character and personality”. In
unison the two joking girlfriends sound off in a humorous understanding that caught the falcon
off guard as it sounded prerehearsed : “for they themselves were a diasporic Viking displaced
before NYC made them primitively average”!!!! “Ha, ha, ha ,ha ha”, they go on to laugh at each
other with some of the boys showing signs of disapproval. “Primitively average” one friend says
in a question as if about to dispute. “Yeah cause sex must be horrendous with these translucent
skinned gazelles”. They pulled up onto an outdoor bench and sat down while the one with the
best warlord designs said: “Lemme see somodat fayke Bayking Souda”. Realizing his purpose
was defeated the falcon flies off this shoulder as they are walking and stands on a building atop
all the trees, telephone wire and every other sign with all the architecture that ornaments this
group, seeing now the tops of their heads. They talk, walking on the New Neth Ave of A, which
has all been magnetized with force that becomes him too - channeling it all being magnetized
and taking it back with him where he tries to find his counterpart in Damn again. Its nighttime
and having extra timeon his schedule until departure his curiosity made him follow the teenagers
until the Land reads : JUST THE IMPORTANT PEOPLE, JUST THOSE WITH A NAME,
JUST THE IMPORTANT PEOPLE FOR ALL WE CANNOT FORGET TO NAME WHO
HAVE A HOUSE WITH A NAME. Arriving at the travelers INN on his way to the emerging
castle which was gigantic in the reconstructed environment, he can’t go inside and flies away.
Got a way. Looking into the sky in the direction of the moon he thinks “no time to reminiss in
this street scene that is New Neth in a LES city as it went Bushwick’ed”. “There is a future
president about to be in thee in 1949; yes he was a beautiful youth grunge but now in the shelter
of the world you guys aim for asbestos”. “Shu! cause I’m on a deadline”.

Splitting from its person as now it is just the falcon gliding as he got through a black hole, seeing
cream colored dust in the corners of the president elect’s vacated hotel room with beige walls.
There were long stick’d brooms and mops are too stupid instruments for maidservice/housewifey
made to swab the ceiling deck after they’ve left. Palin’g crecks. A black nationalist plaid pattern
appear on my mental screen is what the pilot in the falcon thinks to no one: “this is sci- fi talk”
was an answer. Utilize social systems even if it means allying with the police was advice given
in college days to his counterpart but right now he’s calling back to his base in the air traffic
control center; “I’m looking for where the president might be now”. Getting notice as it’s about
to take flight the falcon sees green fabric clung to fence (it was a dyed warrior remnant from
long ago): “It’s not here”. Blue water for Black Negro Intellect Who is Self Schooled = No
Respect and The Upper Middle Class Half Black Book Smarty won him legitimacy: “Not
there either”. Memories can’t be taken up in the sky anymore (he's no "bag lady") so
he remembers Anymore/Nevermore cycles being aware of his crow-like similarities to doom, he
changes his color to golden, suiciding his blue/black/white body for the new body that lay await
where having gotten it right by getting lost he finds his partner in Damn: “Don’t worry about it
guys I found ‘em but what year is it though”. All the while being in pursuit the falcon helped the
childish sky on training wheels to turn the Axel of the circle to Damn's day so he can
reconstitute to a new category - a day closer to inauguration: He learns that his mate has
been elected after the Santa ( ill ) Na Na commercial on TV. Stunned with a newfound
responsibility when tomorrow comes looking at his image, Damn looks unmoved as he picks up
the mag and smiles to his wife being his Essence. He looked at it proudly but graciously and said
"Remember what I said about D words…… make sure you can explain them even when posed in
questions Aliyah". He said this in response to his daughters asking him about dying albeit
20mins later. Aliyah blurted out to her father without knowing what Zaire had been talking about
as she sits entranced still in her room, "but Daddy both your names start with "D" too"? He
didn’t respond nor did he answer Zaire's last statement knowing she would probably lose interest
later anyway, slightly arrogantly assuming "she will know when the time is right". 60 mins past
and then the 60 Minutes reporter left - the family had mash potatoes and talked more. Morely to
lead up to next 8hour later- convening speech time tomorrow afternoon/evening. Dinner with
family done, talked about a lot more than what could be written /transcibed, reporter left in
60mins, eat dinner, slept. No lovemaking. Woke up in the middle of the night to rehearse speech
then went back to bed. But not before seeing CNN which was reporting a case about a boy who
allegedly murdered his father, seeming very odd and interesting to Damn. The falcon and Damn
were alone together now as the bird had caught up with him, getting a direction arriving later on
in the night where he regurgitated, when Damn’s family had gone to sleep. An expose was
supposed to follow after plotting Damn’s uprise headlined DAMN DAMMONS REVEALED!
At this time Damn had been reading Abraham Lincoln and FDR not coincidentally as he wanted
to be prepared for the tumultuous time he was inheriting learning about slavery and the
depression leading up to the Civil Rights movement. He was audaciously hopeful even though he
didn't have to be because he embodied Destiny - or so he thought. Maybe? The falcon is
agnostic though not caring to watch the spectacular documentary about the boy killer. In his eyes
- he didn’t believe nor disbelieve in the existence of God he only needed proof which was
paradoxical somewhat because he was a messenger and linked to Damn who was faithful. For
now he let reason be his guide until the moment when "The Message" would be "Revealed" in a
different season. At the mid night hour the two gaze mesmerized unseen by each other watching
god on TV. Before it - there is a mini introduction that they mistake for a commercial but was the
opening to the documentary in a five minute display of a man on a stage against a monochrome
background. The only thing colored in it was the slow animated figure walking against a gray
cityscape, in a street shot, closing then phasing into the character on a stage who was Charlie
Chaplin-like. In the anarchy of the characters follies as he walks along the gray back with brick
tenements, he goes in one of its doors where the viewer is taken to a different scene.
Curtains in a dark empty theater are pulled by an invisible stagehand showing the man amongst
darkness with no set but a spotlight shines gently on the entertainer. He is bald, gingered colored
and wearing an effeminate version of a cowboy’s costume. Within the cameras frame he is
scanned showing the felt texture of the all brown suit, a large yellow bow tie and then the man’s
made up face being the same tone as his clothes. He has curled eyelashes with light reflecting
that had been tinted, yellow mascara outlined his eyelids faintly but around his eyes was the
powdery red blush that made his eyes blink slow as they were caked. He had what looked like a
golden nose that was molded to the exact shape of his. In the tv’s screen at this point when Damn
was watching, he sees the gold where through the camera panning, the whole screen was golden.
Carved into this gold was an ornate design that showed people in processions. Dipping though,
into the grooves and the curves of the man’s nose that the ring was made to look like, the designs
only made themselves available into the shapes Damn could recognize from being popular and
obvious having seen them in textbooks in school. Through this gazing of the brown cowboy man
with a bald head, he is making gestures slowly synced to the time in the pace of the silent,
somber theater he was dancing in. An empty time it was and so, he was doing his dance with an
ancient patience tuned to his own rhythms of silence and waiting. Pantomiming, turning his body
and twisting his arms with yellow dust glistening in the shape of an oval over the man’s mouth
crudely being placed there as if it was done in a rush. Overall his makeup was pastelly, as its
doer in the faggedy lady who did it looked like she wanted his face to resemble a primitive
cupcake. The man who could have been a ballerina in his graces and concentration, blinked his
eyes as if drums for the syncopation of his movements. With white powder and glitter being
poured over the man by a technician out from the backstage, the man keeps his motions and
Damn beginning to pay more attention, see’s the camera focus in on the dancer. The dancer’s has
a figure that turned into a cloud looking ephmeral with no definable edges as white powder
begins to overtake him. Before being totally shrouded Damn sees the white powder fall down the
made up face with a cross tattooed on his temple and swastikas drawn and smudged on his face’s
sides that were once red when Damn first seen him. The curtains close for the man like it was his
dawn and garish voices and captions of current affairs appeared afterwards on the television’s
screen. It is a documentary now that plays.

In the video, in the chambers of the police precinct the men are coercing the boy to admit he is a
perpetrator of his father's murder. God is the law and the police are creating consciousness
through their "curses" and the "curse" is a new/old tool evolving the boy's nature. We are
subordinate like he is: Damn watching the news, reading the newspaper being rendered as the
consumer - reader and author and implicated, eventually as a suspect conversely for his own,
betrayal against his vision. He is fortunate however not to have to fight for his life yet..... at least
momentarily for now. Now they make killers at 8 and those 80’s babies like the boy must've
missed the time to live in the spirit of a murderous criminality which had the benefit of allowing
him nihilism and/or ruthless rootedness in survival – like the prisoner he would become after
being found guilty. He would bide his time for the “outside” life afterwards. The falcon left this
seen of Damn in his study hopping around the house, going into the glowing entrance that was
Zaire’s room, perching on her shoulder where she had gone to sleep to the video she had been
watching the whole night, replaying it over and over. It was of the girl singing with the city’s
medieval, knighted background at her and all of her friend’s backs. At this point the video had
stopped. The friends of the girl who was spotlighted for the camera’s eye as she performed, had
participants in the somber scene that the square contained, with her friends by her side. It was
mysterious to Zaire and complicated because the celebration of the singer by her friends and
there crowding her seemed just as valuable as the singing. She felt it connected them and then
her, as she was brought into a totality. The space however into the distance felt sharp and remote.
The blinking lights against the misty, blackish- purple air and the desolation, let her know that it
was very late in the night - extracting from the kids an innocence that was bestowing sleaze. It
made her cry herself to sleep as she had already felt corrupted by her dream that she vividly saw
yet could not vocalize to any of her family. It did not escape her to look into that computer’s
screen, at the cheerful faces of those kids who were young just like her and think to herself:
something was unfolding that she glimpsed too early for her childhood, that she did not want.
She went to sleep though not staying up past her exhaustion to jump into the arms of her father,
to realize what she had saw in her dream of “yellowed haired children making offerings”. He
would of have calmed her if she had to make her feel safe again. She slept and was comfortable,
not needing her bed or the graces of her parents tucking her in, reading her her favorite sroy of
The Three Little Pigs and the wolf. She slept like an exhausted adult who had fallen to sleep to
their work but was comfortable even still.

It could all be so simple


But you'd rather make it hard
Loving you is like a battle
And we both end up with scars
Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity
No one loves you more than me
And no one ever will

Is this just a silly game


That forces you to act this way
Forces you to scream my name
Then pretend that you can't stay
Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity
No one loves you more than me
And no one ever will

Hook:
No matter how I think we grow
You always seem to let me know
It ain't workin'
It ain't workin'
And when I try to walk away
You'd hurt yourself to make me stay
This is crazy
This is crazy

I keep letting you back in


How can I explain myself
As painful as this thing has been
I just can't be with no one else
See I know what we got to do
You let go and I'll let go too
'Cause no one's hurt me more than you
And no one ever will

Repeat Hook

Care for me, care for me


I know you care for me

There for me, there for me


Said you'd be there for me

Cry for me, cry for me


You said you'd die for me

Give to me, give to me


Why won't you live for me
(Repeat)ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ - LAURYN HILL
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ “Exfactor”
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Four hours in the pot, one hour out
It grows and I sleep standing up
When Iris sleeps over
What a book she'll write
Oh last night
Oh come on, nobody wants that
Sister, sister, Oh...
We tried hour by hour
Hour by hour
Hour by hour

Four hours to daylight, four hours and then


Pour water on me til I live again
When Iris sleeps over
It'll be alright
All last night
But come on, nobody wants that
Sister, sister, oh...
We tried hour by hour
Hour by hour
Hour by hour

The Breeders Iris lyrics


brrwc67tttttttttttax4wx34u6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6xu6aevytaf
zxadjadjadjadjadjadjadjadjadjadjadjadjadjrtrtrtrtrtahdxcxxxqtydetarhdzcnaD
Shmgcaw,.jcfy;wker’gagsjghigfyrururururururururururururuvykzjsfhsfhsfhsfhsfhzgkc
v%$@#^@#@$^%$&$^**%^$%^$&#%$@#$$@$$@#@!#@!@!@#$#!!!!!!!!!!!!@%%%%%$@@
TZ3/07/2009!!!!!!!!!!
! !!!!.......................................
The prison however is misplaced so it exists not in the peripheries of reality but totally at the
center of it as criminality is able to be manifested, bestowed and/or manufactured. Not
specifically reserved to the "Interrogation Room" when one is prodded to confess and/or argue
innocence similarities are dispersed in areas that seem malign and innocent. Starting very early
in life inside the classroom, the trial - like setting is repeated in instances when alienation
becomes the cause for action and not the sake of the cause itself in the context of exclusion when
particular groups gain acceptance into the elite on the indeterminate basis of “merit”. The
selection of these people means they have “potential” and as far as you identify with your
“merit” and “potential” you have to account for yourself and your abilities along these lines not
because they are true and you are authentically gifted but in order so that the exclusive
environment can be merited and reified so that if you should graduate, the authentification of the
claim is evidenced. Therefore the truth of such a system can be made and you forget about its
structure hidden in the oddity of it all. Until this point of graduation your “trueness” is suspended
and the debt you inherit truly or artificially to yourself (which is the judgment of the institution)
can be lifted. Being turned into a suspicious entity or criminal you have eased the conscious of
those who have judged you and brought you along in a test to their power to bestow power in an
effort to see change occur. Also so as not to be afraid of you should you end up close to them.
The success of “a dream fulfilled” to be successful, acts as a testament to the emptiness of
philanthropy. The philanthropic institution as the utmost Condescension when it operates off the
same paradigms which make it possible –lies inside of utopianisms can’t be called to trial when
struggles are made over in the image of the institutions that create it –filtered through and
siphoned through the few - mythologized to be focused in the hero that transcends. Some called
these people uncle toms but its more complicated. The forecast of this heroism though within the
myth is strickened to be a martyr or as “fallen” so that the myth can never be indicted but you as
a symbol that has decided to embody it cannot in its not being appropriately assimilitable
because its participants were never supposed to be. The celebration soon turns to betrayal. futile
and superficial goals of essence – authenticating oneself to the point of a sacrifice of body
(death) playing its drama out to its end or ending it by refusal. of its role wherefore you
authenticate its opposites. in the villain which is another = 1 > 1 too truth. It is quite interesting
how the promises of education when in the bubble of liberation burst when they are inflated to an
elaborate myth. that they claim their radical stances within. HOW, HOW< HOW< HOW
HOW by you having maintained yourself artificially true. Who u do ? *Personal sense of
ownership.(that you are fulfilling your purpose and your “chosen oneness”) and not se/em
authoritative (your intelligence sets the tone of the class and of the school) as the environment is
superficially “dictated by the students” so that control is displaced and not directly authored in
the image of “teacher” or “bureaucrat”. It is of the students to decide their own education in the
most radical of settings. Right? Who are the students?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MEEEEEEEEE. Moreover
the equilibrium must be maintained in order so the utopianism can flourish undisturbed by the
waters of negation for you’d eventually be negating your position and the identity of being
“merited”. YOU CAME FRAMED FR SLAH VRY !Yet the underlying discourse which unites
or separates the students is “dictated by the students will to appropriate and/or be dictated by the
will of the authoroROW< ROW< ROW< ROW YA BOAT GENTLI DOWN HER STREAM
MERRILY THAT WAS JUST A DREAMtative institution and it’s discourses in order to
enforce its codes and rules for you are accepted insofar farfucking trifecked in a boomer fang
fech. Teks as you reflect upon it knowingly or rebelliously. upon the very same peer group that
they claim to be in community with within the indifferent attitude of “not being totally in
acceptance of it” and therefore justified in not having to account for themselves and there
environment which is only a fear of their own guilt about the place they hold in it . They are very
fine with being “lied” to however there being lied to doesn’t have the severity that it does to
those that are innocent to lies no having the tools of retaliation in the mechanisms of society
against the liar. THE MILITARY IS THE SCHOOL AND IS FUNDED BY POST
MODERN CRITICS OF THERE DIDICKS - the lie depleting the recipient of anything
oriented to a goal instead being up in a game of figuring out ones paradox within a bigger
landscape of paradox but some cannot afford to be disoriented to the degree that their
disorientation cost them there life. WHY COULD I have my homelessness funded
DR>NIETSHCE I LOVE YOU ANY WAY THOUGH – GIVE ME A KISS TOO…….
Ultimately to react against this dualityof feeling, you are here but somewhere else because you
cannot totally inhabit a “free will” it being broken by a lie - the retaliation is formulated to be
against the other who is a lie and who lies is nowhere but cant be more easily identifiable than in
a symbol abstracted to exist outside of the lie so that it can be guilty BEtTER WHEN ITS
GUILTY – paradoxically of course according to the same logic of its author whether
victimization or oppression – abusive loved relationships. There is a symbol outside of the myth
that they have culpability within. the villain within the myth objectified in a stasis of “truth”. The
abstraction accommodates the truth as much it can, to reduce the lies within it so as to be
innocent in a form that makes it able to reject in the ultimate strike against it in order to have a
need to retaliate.the mostbeing here. Unfortunately racism accommodates the racist or racialist to
lie and/or embody a lie more than it does allow its recipients to do so them having to maintain
their innocence. A lovely unmarked person unquestioning of the system of merits ((((((((so that
you should be totally grateful of it)))))))))) and not =========exert
yourself+++++++++++below or beyond the role that gave you a ticket in the first place. They
think that this will offer freedom in being mobile and geographical to have multiplicity in roles
in africal as they? = can play but to great disappointment they find out otherwise. Very few
people cannot claim the honor in having. and the shamelessness to purvey it as a quality to teach
it to others as The Talent to acquiesce. DUMB DOWN THE HEROIN ON ME TIL HE
BRING ME TO A LETTER THAT IS LIBERTY. GET FUCK MOTHERFUICKING
MOTHER FUCKING ME HARD TOO MUCH WHEN I SLEEP WIT HER LOVERS. The
“will” is the striving to a category – When - a – student - becomes not convicted in ideas and
there transformative and liberatory properties but convicted in consequences and the
superficial "laws" that govern social behavior and the "punishments" that lay ahead should
he/she not succeed. acheive the level over being an outcast and thus made to be alien - than you
are mechanisms of policing and the law become enacted once again. Not to mention no deal with
notions about ethical nature as fear necessitates action. Perpetuating the need to police is the
student him/herself when they confront this situation and use it against those who author it to
trouble its own irrationality through senseless rebellion and angst – unabated refusal and/or
negativity. They are just as important as a matter of extremity, due to the fatalism
they pound you with when you get bombarded with the images of what might happen if you
"drop out of school" and thus "fail out of life" resembling the same violence of the alienated but
rebellious teenager as they force logic into a system where the rules don’t often apply.
It should be noted that there are many conditions surrounding this initial alienation though some
having greater significance over others as it can be evidenced by who decides to take action
against it and who is dictated by more weightier circumstances for which to try to escape would
be so mean. Can’t venture into some bottomless abyss of a failure to represent ones already
“failed” community cause there’s too much at stake. These later
individuals CAPITALIST SHIZZNICKS do the work themselves of policing although it is not
themselves who they manufacture and usually it is the former BLACK BOHO ROBOCOPS
who create more of an urge to manufacture. The policing superficially alleviates the need to
manufacture as if there disobedience is the model of all disobedience – some visually enacted
protest and easy because they have a whole institution dedicated to “disobedience” to back them
NIGGAANARCHICDREADHEAD DEATH RACE PUNK…….. And MYTHS. Noble
however is how the once alienated student turned visually hip with mommies bricks protester
seeks to proximate him/herself to power as they play off the authority as an A and B causal
relationship - a"domino effect" because you are taught that prisons harbor people who failed out
of the education system not people who were failed by it. They love school more than there
fights and principles. People who've failed "themselves" and there "lives". People who are
outside of reason by having not adopted the social signs and laws to control themselves as
productive citizens and so these protesters insert themselves into this discourse whether poor,
rich, black, white etc seeding marginality for the birth of a new power within marginality as it
means Destruction. DESTOBE in STROBES SO I WANNA WEAR NIKE ROBES LIKE
I”MFING UNFAIR LABOURED LATIN AMERICAN HANDS NEVER SEEN MY
DERRIERE. They use what they think is marginal as a weapon against power - within a culture
that values its anti heroes insofar as they function to disturb, offset, or reference rebellion
centered around authority PROGRESSION IS AUTHORITY IN SPEEDY SUCCESSION
OF THE OLD
(((((((((((((((((((<<<<<<<<<<<<<<techno>>>>>>>>>>>>>))))))))))))))))))))))))))). This further
enforces the logic that they declared themselves against in the beginning forcing logic onto the
villain so that it is illusionarily fleeting and can’t even even,even be called that in order to use
within a paradigm of control and policing policing itself in keeping up its designated “villainy”.
itself through the situation of being alienated or made foreign to oneself (Invisible Man) through
the accusation. The "accused" are between the rightness of the moment and the wrongness of
something timeless and unbounded as a myth which seeks to stabilize but is however like
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$mercury$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ -
###############################wayward##############, wild and savage
=&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&. Guilty or
innocent they are made to acknowledge there potential and that potence already being politicized
in the sphere of history is drawn out for its subject to recognize and grasp – totally in its fetish
objectified like a gift whose value lies in the wrapping and the recipient is expected to appreciate
the preciousness not to open- Are you guilty of the crime ? Are you guilty of
something.....greater? They have to reckon with the logic of themselves as capable in
consequence and ability (to open)- to commit something which they and the accuser know they
should have committed. Revolutions, revolutions, revolutions, revolutions, better solutions. A
context needs to arise to be "prompted" and the prompting needs a revitalization, a renewal - it
comes having realized that there is an invisible force wielding control, latching itself onto you
early without you recognizing it and then through the belated accusation later in life being taken
back to it and its presence/presentness, its void sucking you into the infancy of the moment from
when the judgement was first dealt. The moment shrouds you in the timelessness of yourself
within a myth. The canon of the mediocre. It is a moment that does not exist in any spatio-
temporal moment only in the imagination of its tangible history - imagined
history.*******************************************************************WW
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1984^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^. Having a
perceived logic of "law" though it is concretized and suited for the performance of
victim/victimizer, reprievals - crimes and due punishment = heroes and villains. This takes on
bigger proportions racially and economically as the accusor once realizing himself in the totality
of the accusation asks himself whether or not he is performing the duties or laws of manhood.
Doubly paradoxical is the fact that although he thinks he is performing himself as a man he is
performing the very same rules and laws of this state that normalizes vengeance and retribution-
normalizes the mythes that make men, in order to implode on itself so as to be illusionary. within
a vacuum of non - existence. Heroes are interchangeable within myths to their
counterparts villainy fluctuating between the embodiment of each other in order that once the
hero wins the myth can stay continous institutionalized by GUTS WITH INTERESTS and glass
cases FACES : another hero must inherit his place or the hero becoming a tyrant must be
replaced by a nobler , newer hero. The myth which can be seen as the law is this narrative
encased - purifying itself by the creation of villains, otherness and heroism so that these
symbols are appropriate enough to bend and readjust according to the will of the law/myth and
its environment – current or old use values motivated to conquer something else. NOT ME NOT
ME NOT ME NOT ME NOT NOT NOT ME ME ME ME ??????? NOT ME…………………
…..The heroes power in the breathe of its liberation is under its own threat of corruption too as
myths tell us. We must be careful of who we let be our heroes because power corrupts as the
myth goes and heroes eventually become villains. The law/myth has within it a need to repress in
order to sanitize its being seen to repress so as to transform new again , reincarnate through a non
violent form but not through essence……… EVEN YOUR ESSENCE MAGAZINES BLACK
ENTERTAINMENT TELEVISION’S CENSORING UNCORRECT WHITES IN BLACKS …..
TO DIGITIZED IN THERE COLOR PRETTY CAMERAS…………..
identityless in an effort to maintain its myth –shapes are shifting yet firmly stable
and timelessness. Wanting to possess too much. It creates problems where there are none
marking out the impulsive will to sanitize and clean itselfby rejecting its villainous
characteristics albeit superficial. What is it ? If I am so oppressed then why can’t I do anything
about it? Why can’t I imitate my oppression only to be myself an imitation of an idea about
oppression. You are guilty as yourself, through yourself but not because of yourself because
through the accusation you realize you never had "yourself" to begin with. Knowing this and
knowing that - somehow you are being withheld - something does nothing other than detach you
from yourself so that you become othered in a way that others aren't - publically as it is agreed
and conceded through consensus - things are withheld which is nothing but further enforcement
of the reasons to be angry =??????????????????????? and privately in your own internal struggle
= 000000000000000000000000…………… to enact power only as you know it. when it is
abusive and restrictive. It is necessary that a concept of "withholding" exists so that the law/myth
can seem so real as the universe is so easily known through items and materials collected. the
world is so simple according to the myths we subscribe to. Thus the import of not having shit
seems so real and worth dying for rather straying us away from complexity and the harder task of
examining our human interests when it means being equitable and fair and moral too. At this
point how irrational is it to not even believe in this "place" and its "reasonable" reality? “ “ “ “ “
“ “ “ “ “ ( ARE YOU KIDDING ME YOU”RE COMMITTING SUICIDE WIT THAT
MANSON MILK SHAKE STOP IT) “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “ “false perceptions of prosperity us being
devoid more so than not. “ NO YOU? Fuck you and that ! What about anything more than I
however am outside of logic and reason - once again "abyss'ed". The falcon stands sturdy on the
perch of a chair watching the interrogation tape come to an end and Damn looks worried as if all
his hope has somehow been thwarted. When they question the boy one wonders about the
multitude of questions being asked of him instead of the specific one - did you kill your daddy?

“FOR REALLY, PHARELLY IS HE REALLY REAL”?


NO BUT I’M DIZZY FROM DISNEY DEALS SO I’M
DILLYING DILLS ON
ON THE DAILY/
GOT PHILLYS FOR MILLIES NOT FA-MILY
DON’T STEAL ME LIKE GILLIE/
TO LILLY : “I’M KIDDYING”/
I CANT PAY MY BILLY BILLS
TOO HILLY/
“HILARY I’M NOT FEELIN THE THRILLY THRILLS”/
BUCKS/ BUT MAYBE HIS LUCK
FULFILLING HIS NEEDY ILLS/
ILL!/
I’M CHILLY FROM THE MANY BELLYS
ARE THEY ALIVE OR
IS IT AN EASY KILL/
CHILL!/
BUT I DESERVE MY BILLYS/
NO HAVING NILLY FROM SILLY
WILLY IDEALLY GIVIN THE PRIVIES
TO PRIVY THE NON HAVIN AND HEAVENS
OF PRETTY ISMS SHITTY MY NIGGY
FROM A NIGGA TO IGGY POPPING/
WE WENT FROM “BEINGS”/
TO BEING “SOMETHING”!/
ITS ICKY WHEN WE GO FROM BEING BIGGIE
FROM AREAS THEY REALLY NO BIGGIE
“KNOW BIGGIE” “NO BIGGIE NUFIN”/
WHETHER IF YA LA IN NEW YORK
OR THE TONS IF YA REALLY COMPING/
DO YA WORK
NOW WOW
THEY SHADE EM
SHAKE EM FROM BLACK
RED GREEN DAYS
NIGGY IF YA LISTEN TO THE GARBAGE YOU SHOULD GO AWAY/
I STUFF MIND IN DA PUFFS
FUCKING STUFF
OUT THE SMOKE OD DA PURPLE HAZES/
H DA OVA TUFF/
”HEY, HATE IS”:
MY SEXY PISTOLS TO BE STARTIN OFF/
POP THE TART OF THE KID WHEN HE ROTTEN/
SAYING “TAKE THE HEART OF THE NIGGA FARTS”/
AND THEN YA NIFTY IN YA FIFTYCENT
BIZZNESS GET CHA PRETTY VACANT/
BUT I’M TRYNA GO FROM NOTHIN TO SUMFIN
WHO CARES
I DON’T CARE IF I’M FAKENESS/
“PLEASE EVERY OTHA NIGGA TRYNA STEAL DIS BACON”
AND YOU COULD BET I WILL GET RAPE’DID/
MY ACT NOT HARD TO FOLLOW
THEY WILL TRY TO APE HIM
IN HIS SLEEP WHEN HE HOLLOW/
BUT “FUCK”!/
I”LL DO ANYTHING CAUSE
I AINT EVEN GOT NATHAN”S
FOR THESE NIGGA BUCKS/
BAD BRAINS BAKED IN DA OVEN
INTESTINES OF THE BRAIN IS CAKIN/
RESIN
IM A PEASANT
CLEAN THE PIPES OF THE ESSENCE/
AND BE HOTNESS/
WHEN I ROAR AND ROW IN MY BOAT TO THE WAR/
I HOPE I COULD BORE
MY PLANET IN A BALL
ON COVERT
IN BUSHWICK/
GET NICKED YOUNG BOY IT WILL FALL/
LIKE A CANNONBALL/
WE ARE CANNIBALS
THEY’LL STEAL YA BODY WHEN YA RATED HORROR
N NAKED
IN YA CAUSE/
GIZZED OUT CHA AIM/
MARCH ON IDEAS LIKE NAZIS IN DA WORLD
I LOVE ALL OF ALL CAUSE MY NAME
WILL END IN IN – SANE
THE ASYLUM OF THE GOING OFF
OF MY BRAIN
LITE GO OUT
NOT FA SOME DAME’S
MOUTH
FROM THE RIFF IT WILL CRACK RIGHT OUT
IRAQ WAS KINDA LAME/
IN MY SQUAD
WE WAS “WIPED OUT”/
I’M REALLY ALL OF Y’ALL
I GOTS SKITZ AND
ANOREXIA IN A SKINNY FRAME/
NIGGA, HE A KITE
AND A KIKE/
SO I GLIDE ON GERMAN NIGHTS
IN THE FALL/
ELECTROCUTED WHEN IT REIGNS
“AHHH PAIN!!!!!”/
LOOKING KIND IN THE STEEL/
EINSTEIN CAUGHT ME FRANKEN
THE DISCHARGE/
IN MY BLACK CAMO DRAWERS/
I’M A GUTTER PUNK, BRAVE AND DIS - CORD
ANT/
THE MICE SQUEEL WHEN I ATE THEM IN
THE NIGHT TO RANT/
ON/
THE DAUGHTERS DIRT REVOLUTION
LOVE MY PRINCE RESOLUTION?/
RINSE MY MINCE MEAT
CUT IT OFF WHEN I TAME IT
WIT ITS TEETH/
ITS NEAT BUT POLLUTED/
THAT’S THE SOLUTION \
WHEN I CAME/
KILL ELOHIM/
SIC HIM
NO, SICK MY DICK IN YA PIT
LIKE A BULL TO YA JAWS LIKE
SIX SIX SIX/
“I AM LOVING HIS BEING”
SICK,SICK,SICK
SID NANCY PSYCHIC/
MARTIANS ON WORDS
WITH NAPALM IT IS DANCING/
HEROIN MAKE ME PRANCING COUGH/
COUGH,COUGH,COUGH,COUGH
OFF THE OFF
CCCRRRRRKKKK
CUSS,CUSS,CUSS,CUSS,CUSS
ON THE CUSP
OF MY TIDE
WASH ME OUT WITH ALL/
DUANE READES:
“GASES, BUT NO OLIVE LEAF OILS”/
I PROMISE/
I HOPE TO BE BETTER/
I WILL ASSASINATE
AND TAKE A GUN
LIKE SYRINGE IS FUN

PHENOMENAL OUT THE RULES


AND RIPS IN MY CHEST SWEATER/
LUNCHING ON DA CHOKER/
UNLEASH ‘EM TO BLEND
WIT THE DOG WHO’S GROWL HE HOPES FOR,
THAT IS SPEAKING!
MUSCLE FLEX THE KU KLUX CLEF LIP/
GOT THE CLAPS
THEM CHAINS RIGHT OFF/
EVEN IF I SHOOT MYSELF IN THE PROCESS/
CUTTIN THE MISSED STEAKS OUT MY VOCAL
CARDS/
GOSH,GEEZ,GEEZ,G’S, GOSH GOLLY
JELLY OSH KOSH THE NUTTY BUTTER
I PUT IT IN HER BELLY/
SHE MADE ME FROM HER PORES
I HAD TO JUST PAUSE
AND GIVE HER APPLAUSE/
I’M RAGGEDY
ANN AND SHE IS ANDY/
BODY, YOU COULD BEAT ANY/
THEN WE’LL TAKE OFF
ALL OUR CLOTHES
TO EXPOSE
THE FUN WIT NO CLAUSE/
CAUSE ALL WE GOT IS DEEZ PENNYS/
NOW I GOT TWO MOUTHS LIKE A TEDDY….
FELT AND BARE/
WHY CAN’T I RIDE ON A JET WIT RIHANNY/
CAN I BE DEAR?.............
BUT DAT MY NIGGA CHRIS HONEY/
RATHER BE BEAT BY DADDY OVER SOME WHITE MANYS
WHERE”S MY GODDESS DOE
I HAD BAMBI’S LOVE
BEFORE I HOED MY ACHILLES”?
THE OUTBURST PUT A HOLE IN MY TITTYS
THE LIGHTNING SEEM TO FIT ME
IT WAS
GOD TO HEAL/
IN A DESERTS EAGLE EGO/
I’M TRYNA GIT CRAZIER
VAN IN MY GOGHS
TO WOE ON THE SUN’S FLOWER
“LIKE DEATH IS MY GOLDEN SEAL”
AND MY BLACKED POWER
HAD ANTENNAES
THAT I USED TO FEEL
NO SENSES LEFT/
WHERE THE FUCK MY NIGGA KRANNY/
BOY
ONE IN TWO PEOPLE
AND THE THIRDS NOT YET……
GGGGGGGGUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS??????????/
WE ARE NOT QUITE REAL
BUTT TUCKED IN TUTS GREEN CUPS
THAT’S HOW DA BLACKS
GET THE DEALS/
OUT THE O’s
OH OH OH OH OH OH
BOY
BOY
BOY
BOY
BOY
BUT I CANT CHOSE FROM A BOY
IF I HAD MY CHOICE
I WOULD LOVE A JOE
IF HE JIHAD’D UP/
HE COULD BE MY TOY
CAUSE JUST LIKE HIM
I AM SUCKING FROM BEING HIGHED UP/
“MR. SMITH I AM LIVING SO COY”/
NO HOMO, MAN NOT A MO…..BOY/
I’M LIVIN MY FLOW SPIT/
THROWN DEVIN
FROM HEAVEN’S
DEATH STROBE RADIANCE/
LOVE IT RAW LIKE A NUB/
TO MAKE ME BITE MY TOE NAILS
LIKE TITS,
WRITE THE GLASS OFF IF I CHOSE TO LICK/
I AM BUL-LET’S PROOF
“SEE ME PASS IT”?/
SORROW CAN BE HAD IN MY HEAD’S LOFT/
PULL IT
SEE IT GET BOUNCED LIKE E-LAST TO BALL
WITH COKE I LOVE THE PLASTIC DOLLS/
SEE WHAT DC DOES WHEN ITS LODGED?
MIGHT BE SMALL ITS THIS BROADS LOG
NO JOKE CAUSE I LOVE THAT MAN DOLL/
HE NOT LIKE ME OR YOU
HE DON’T NEVER TALK/
AND HIS BODY DON’T SAY “WHAT IT DO”
MOST OF ALL HE DON’T HAVE NO HOPE
OR NO BLUES/
MAYBE HE GOT SOME CLUES
I WANT TWO
BE THAT
PUSHED IN A STEW/
AND RAPPED IN A COFFIN
HA HA HA HA HA
WANT THE HALAL
OR MESSI-AH
AH….
WELL HERE ARE THE FUHRER’S AWESOMES:
DO TAKE CAUTION/
AND DON’T BE SCARED/
CAUSE IM NOT A PHANTOM
AND NEITHER IS THIS
WHEN I MAKE MY ABORTIONS
FROM FIRING OUT
AND ITS MUCH YELLOW HAIR:

Aren’t you even man enough to face jail too? Aren't you a man yet? they ask him before there is
a montage chronicling his life and the policeman’s simultaneously. His murdered dad was one
and so those men were partners in the same squad. The documentary on CNN was supposed to
be centered around forgiveness and so the policemen were characters in the boy’s story showing
how transformations happen with the policemen 12 years later retired, becoming born - again
Christians. The boy has grown now right before their eyes when they visit him as civilians with
reporters accompanying them to the man’s cell to tell him that they forgive him for what he did
way back – the man now called Devx. "I'm God bitch, I'm God Bitch who the fuck you be" is
what the boy now turned man says to those anonymous interrogators voicing themselves from a
speaker - doing their interview through a barrier of hard glass. He was in a special unit for
having been deemed “too dangerous for general population”. He's renamed his prisoner title,
using that instead of his number, calling himself Devx like Ralph Ellison's "invisible man" and
like Ralph Ellison he has sequestered himself in an unknown space of the roomy cell where the
soundstage was. Reforming into a new man inside the jail, he proclaimed to the other prisoners
the title of “reverend”. He was the simulacra of a literary moment, ”taking somefin back from
nuthin” from “the positive” , from “the negative” like the black skinheads he admired when he
hung out with his older brother before being locked up. They both rocked an Iron Cross but the
former had more of an idea of origination and it is in the “good” of a “black” skinhead that
frustrated him thinking to his brother “why can’t you just be bad and a Nazi like some of your
other skinhead friends are”. Being firm in this when he said that back then as a kid, while
knowing too that he was young and not as involved as his older brother who had been a punk for
years. Even at eight years old the boy jumping up and down in a mosh pit, watching his brother
pelt monstrous tones, he was being a stand –in, as some kind of extra for a moment he would
author in his matured future when he got the word “freedom” tattooed in elaborate script on his
neck” and a swastika tattooed on his chest with all kinds of other symbols dotted over his body
illustrated by NeoNazis. He had befriended these people and other varieties of prisoners in jail.
These markings they all gave him, on his dusty, caramel colored skin fit well with his
complexion and sharp features that were Asiatic. The edges of the swastika sharply defined, the
greens and reds making him look like foreign candy – as Eastern European toffee with other
kinds inside streaming the brown with celebratory colors decorated in obscure shapes. The
policemen being there with the reporter were shaking their heads in stern disapproval at things
Devx would recount. The reporter amazed though, she couldn’t help but stare in the middle of
his head: in the area between his eyes where the word “END” had been etched in but since he
had indentations from having sqrunched his face so much the wrinkles hid the last and the first
letters where now she was gawking at “N”. Watching him and wanting to ask him about it, it
seeming strange that it wasn’t a cross like she normally saw on the “third eyes” of characters like
him so she just stayed silent getting very detached from the moment. Listening but not being able
to take her gaze off the symbol in the hill that was his skin where there were two fracture lines -
the lettered spot had a life of its own. It seemed to prod at her and her duties at that moment- as a
reporter. She herself felt compelled and angry mimicking Devx. Not knowing since she had been
in much more dangerous situations made her that much more outside herself. As Devx stay
talking he was a blur to her and the “N” seemed like it was imposing itself on her vision as it was
enclosing - about to strike. Mirroring Damn, the reporter hypnotized by this cryptic letter, feeling
innocent like she was turning to the girl she remembered when her daddy asked her questions,
asking her to name things but feeling like she wanted to maintain her innocence withholding to
confess answers she knew. The “N” was asking its name like a sinister demon but this time she
was dumbfounded and confused, her mind wanted to explode to lash out against herself and the
women she thought she was. She felt the voice feeling the person inside yet she couldn’t figure
out whose name it was that the “N’ was unlocking in the person of her memory.”Whose name
was it” she thought mesmerized. “What my name cause I know yours…….Mary” she imagined
the “N” saying as it taunted her and rammed her reasoned identity in the image of a spiraling
illusion. By this time in this interaction between her and the green middle alphabet, the police
had excused themselves thinking their job of giving their forgiving was done. That letter on the
porous abstraction of skin wanted her to call out its name but she couldn’t. She look at him with
an unknown cataract in her eyes, crooked face, emptily being a vessel for Devx’s stroll down
memory lane. He went back into his memory as he asked himself, inside his mind, linking his
opinions with his questions as if just finding the thesis to things that had plaqued him up until
this point. Putting his hand on the glass like his energy needed to be conducted, the reporter
taken out her stupor put her hand over the gums of his, not feeling the glass anymore though
seeing Devx’ pain and understanding she cried: He cried too letting out a tear and said “I’m still
God bitch” in a low, crackled voice and then went back into his inventory of new shame and new
regrets but answers: Standing in the dingy club with leather clad kids all around but in the
forgone moment he is now 21 and is the author of his own club in the jail - singing his war cries
through the images on his body, working out every day for the gladiatorial events held inside his
steel dungeons, becoming inextricably linked to his self as a fighter. There he was remembering
himself though, as a boy who thought a lot about origins to defy them - in order to assimilate into
things cold, angular and opposed to his presence. He was recalling these times through the
questions of the reporter and the police as they asked him to recount his experiences not
expressing the nostalgia he had for it to them though – the policemen- but to his comrade in the
lady reporter. The documentary would make him and other prisoners in the jail celebrities and
Devx would be the first inmate and the most popular. He didn’t really care however about it as
his main hope was to see visitors come. For mostly through his tough exterior and “God” status
he was lonely. Gnostically he darted through the walls of his youth - like a bullet - having
shattered just one tier of disobedience which was the most important that made the structure
collapse just like his body - to be rebuilt technologically modified virtually in the image of the
jail he’d been subjected to. He burst and ricocheted his punches from the core of his ultimate
individualisms, off his opponents - to be like the ska,the punk, the hardcore, the death rap, the
bluesman he sold his soul to loving to listen to them. He had his audience see him dance to their
sounds. iBHim Pimpin Jesus: this is that version, a futurist moshing, hyperized in a unregretful C
walk on the 3rd floor up to virtuality in the light of glist–his ride has already been “pimped”
displacing the war machine of a slothful polite life he would have had had he been polite instead
opting for speed and unrepentant hate - failures. Now with the reporter having left him he was
feeling less iconoclastic and heretical. He was humiliated in the vulnerability of the moment
when he found a partner to tell it to, trying to lock the shape of his hands with hers- they both
had merged their hands together against the clarity of the barrier from his cell. Feeling angrier
now with the women gone he feels confirmed - realizing his opposites (positives) have no
function already wrought. “So everything mine as well be mall music for a slow escalator to the
eternal architecture on line to look prettier for the angels just waiting for me……. so they can
masturbate when I growl” he said as his own God. Building up his fight to be “The God” when
he spoke to the world on his weekly show riding on his newfound hate of the girl. He hadn’t
thought to ask her name just thinking it would be another anonymous fan to gawk at him and his
savagery. “Mines as wells disguised for progress redirected out and then up then nostalgia for
down (don’t look)” he says in a crazy to the ammonia colored walls that don’t respond. He be
locked in the dark interminable space of cyber reality calling himself God dancing to Makaveli
and reading from the Bible sporadically. The CNN reporter left “so much for fake love” he
thought thinking about the end of his visit, going on to next ones scheduled for that day. The new
reporters were being shuttled into a room by guards to speak to him, them being hip dressing
how he used to when he was young. The warden had outfitted cells like the one he was confined
in since by now he was known throughout the world and there was demand for new and
interesting actors by the public. He transmitted himself in a video in real time via the Internet and
the space was poisoned giving Devx a virus to look crazier as if spam did it. They let the inmate
chose their own interior designs by now and he wanted a blue screen with backgrounds inspired
by Germans - Immanuel Kant and Kaspar Friedrich. “THE SUBLIME NIGGER IS A
NATIVE SON TO A BIGGER GOD WITH A BIG OLE DICK CABLE THAT HE
PULLED OUT THE EARTH WHEN THEY USED IT TO HANG HIM WITH TO BE A
GHOST IN THE MACHINE ELECTRIFIED”. " THESE IS NIKES, SCHEIZER". Once
in a while he invited curators over to his stage and journalists from youth culture just to prove
how godly he was not being ironic either. This was that time. Maybe, possibly it was clever. Or
maybe it was his own kind of irony but he really did love art as it was his therapy and wanted to
share his thoughts about how wonderful it had been in calming his will to violence. He had no
issues with talking about it with the world, even if it contradicted with his image because he
thought he was God already and no nigga tested him in the jail because he was its king. He
started each show by reading from his artist statement before commencing to have his blue
screen activated to display a cloudy German sky so he could appear to float, waltzing like a Crip
dancing to Tupac. Then he would pull down his pants to expose his ass that read “VOLCANO”
in green gothic lettered ink as a title to phase into another segment of his performance leaving
nothing to be seen but his brown rear end in the video screen’s frame. He read from an email he
sent himself when a fan help to explain his intentions to a public audience keeping it folded in
his other leaflits, dancing still still floating emailing it to his countless tuners in that tuned. He
had give up to the prison eventually as all his possessions needed to confiscated by the prison as
they were easily made weapons into :

My work deals with issues of race, sex, gender through the spiritual and divine to speak to the
abstract created by false drives of modernity and post modern interests. It strives for its own
autonomy, freedom, utopianisms, infinities, successful failures and ecstasies resonsagain
however. No post is better than the crooked one that comes through the sky to strike the false life
– giving bar which is stabilized on our Earth that I’ve never seen but you people call trees. With
its roots firmly implanted it is lit aflame to burn down the forest from the same thing in the
thunder by which it came. My aims in the forms I use whether they be from the high or the low
speak to these abstractions within the histories of objects relating to music, literature, fashion,
painting and image making, music, sound, voice, words the body and nature. I got nobody so I
chose where and what I want even if means raping these holes. I am a tragic being, doing work
here inside these lairs of tragic – comedy. Like I said before I am interested in ins, endlessness,
failure, process and most of all content which all come out as result in the divine being The
Truths doing it cause I am divine the same as Eye do. Questioning I am, it is, is the truth behind
these things and not tied to any particular type of method in written messages. I do this in order
to bring concepts to bear together within the same pursuit that their utopianisms create – the
writtens. Thus with conventional formulas ( music, sound, literature, art blah, blah, blahs,( na,
na, no, nos) blah ). I am trying to bring out the oneness from the fakes in finding their truths so I
can bring out The Truth that is the different truth than from before I did. I gotta show the line of
modern trajectories who’s the real G cause if you don’t these niggas would they savages in here.
I am a savage inside a reverend cause I have to preach cause mufuckas I am God! Not a god in
the cause like these peoples up in here who are real just cults and infidels, I BE THAT REAL
NIGGA. These other stupid ass black dressings about in all these fancies can’t do no justice to
my Justice in me. See my tattoos these wasn’t draw these was painted my dudes. They got colors
to give me more depth so I hide from the (C)^(O).’s to do my art alone in places they can’t see
me in. SEE. Anyway, I know can’t so I’ll just do it how you understand you whit motherfuckers.
I don’t why shit gotta be so segregated like me but with material provided, by my fans here and
you guys my friends out there, I can draw out the evils within these histories strivings for
separation. I’m interested interest in pursuing these very same aims through myself to try to
counteract them. These are questions of manipulation and power if those who use can
appropriate them can and if the disneyed alive subobjs can’t help themselves from being used
than fuck em. Does this mean fuck everything? Most likely, probably! the one with the s. respect
to utopian and dystopian visions. It B as I is HiGH and I is Him examines materials relating to
music, literature, family, biographies and the urban environment although not being limited to
any or you ors. The work deals particularly with youth cultu -re by using products of it to talk to
or in fact as an instrument to pry through racism as it stays the same or as it transforms in a
globalized cultural imagination. I am interested in abstraction and abstractedness of time and
change using advanced forms of technology to do so. It has a geographical leaning trying to
examine constitutions of knowledge naively maybe by travelling virtually being on the internet,
looking at the books I read, seeing people’s and certain motherfuckas and through simply making
connections or interrelations. I want to live out an alternative worldview through my nexus of
interests. I got bills that I'm trying to pay with the commissary and a fractured family that I need
to mend and then raise up who live outside this place where I am. A big family too so I need that
tv and that art money to get ins. I love being race and do not want to see it erased by someone's
"tricknology" so the work has an economic edge subverting how you think about God who is me
and the boundaries of “hi and low” culture to speak to hegemony and its own imagination
specifically reimagining “white supremacy” and other socio –political structures through devices
of framing and myth –symbolizing on y’all. I come you not as !a7000 – 40,637 myth write now -
as obviously I am right when I decide to make I presence known upon y’all I will. See what it
do! It uses conventions troping anger, violence and frustration as experienced through the forms
of hip hop, images of punk rockers ( I love they screams ) its noise music - "post musics" to
further examine modern and postmodern anxieties about extremes, excess, ecstasy and rage as
they circulate around old notions of newness and primitiveness seeing how and what they draw
from in a art historical sense(s). Not limited to these items specifically nor to these ideas to
maintain their uncertaintie&&&&s&&&&@@@@####sssssVVVcZa!!!!!!! as “everyday life”
brings about new surprises disturbing the strictures constantly. Through my own biography and
having established new ideas from being in jail I see that there is no way of ever being sure. One
day you might be fighting a Mexican and then the next he might be teaching you Spanish while
you’re getting inked by a neo – nazi! It’s their useful paradoxes and “breakdowns” that play an
important role for me in prying out what it means to be sincere, honest and even sentimental in
an age frustrated with the confines around stabilizing “goodness” and content in popular
romances around peoples who are so bounded to their categories, reified in the myths of power
they embody and betray through images always centered when around race, class, sex and
gender. I know everything is relational, there is a lot more between the edges of the criteriti/on.
They define in a way that reinstitutes the very same things that these conventions argue against. I
think they are part of the reason why the warden even allows me to have this show loving me
talking to you guys. He’s Christian even still….. It makes him laugh probablyAnyway,fi….
furthermore it is my own romances…del around that which seem so outdated and regressive that
keep me tied to ideas of failure and cliche within histories and traditions that “progress” claiming
to transform their essentialisms through just “hanging out” whether negatively or positively
whether you like “hanging out” with particular groups. It is these performances of the mundane
which is all I know pretty much not having the mobility to go places yet I see how niggas play
with artifice and belief in “themselves” through the art of interaction to the mundaneand
dialoguing that attracts me to these matters of assimilation, transaction and appriopiation that
acts on my practice. I want to deal in the simple extremes in a fashion that marks out what it
means to have come from the letter generation X and Y after Civil Rights CRY and intergration
for it is through “hanging out” that becomes so central for me here. I wonder what the Z could be
if it’s me! Is it the apocalypse generation they are claiming for us? What will it mean Damn but
as me being I as I as HIMHI I’m turn y’all to genuiices if you follow the codes so you bring my
son up right Damnyaherd! With the last being the first " I'm God Bitch who the fuck you be".
Then the man called X appeared to blank out like he was epileptic having a seizure right there on
camera during the interview. His eyes rolling in the back of his head at the same time another
anonymous voice from above firmly shouted "you aint God" which must’ve been a corrections
officer and he then regained consciousness and was disoriented and asked to be permitted to play
music and then start back over announcing his artist intentions. He went back to his chair he was
sitting in with the interviewer right beside him much more calmly this time but something drew
him to get up and walk over to the center of the stage where he just stared very intently back at
the camera and thus directly into the eyes of his audience all over the world. Suddenly within 5
mins of this glaring his eyes roll in the back of his head again. This time he appeared to be
struggling against rapture, then regains and hops into a motionless military stance as if on
command glancing up to make sure he was align with something you, me, nor his audience could
see but was obviously overhead. Then he begins to resume his artist statement from its
introduction getting as far as " My work" and then whipping out his right arm, thrusting it in
front of him slightly angled putting his body in the shape of a gun then thrusting it back to his
side he lets it hang for a few seconds then supermannitws again. Resuming he says " My
work''........"amongst other thinnnnngs" pausing for less than a second so that he could use his
upraised arm to guide his motion in recreating himself as a tornado spinning circles in a dizzy
while also repeating his artist explanation:
“With the first being the last “My work……………
yM krow slaed htiw seussi fo ecar+ xes+ redneg hguoht eht lautirips dna enivid ot keeps ot eht#
tcartsba modeerf$ smsinaipotu$ seitinifni$ lufsseccus seruliaf& dna seisatsce nigasnoser
rerewoh@oN tsop si retteb naht eht dekoorc eno$$$$$$$$$$$$&&&&&&&&&&……………
………………………………………………!?...........................
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.

A WORK B WORK C WORK D WORK E WORK F WORK G WORK H WORK I


WORK J WORK K WORK L WORK M WORK N WORK O WORK P WORK Q
WORK R WORK S WORK T WORK U WORK W WORK X WORK Y WORK Z

ABC WORK:

A Death Black Metal Song:

Chorus: Hell is what a 9 to 5 is


To, find the absence of blissssss.
Amped for life to existxxxxxx
My apocalypse was a……
Yeah
Ye – ah
Yeah
Ye – ah
Yeah, yeah, yeah…….. yeah, yeah
He was bare Never Fair
Prince
Prince………..Cause he just Rinced , Rinced , Rinced
Just screw all rent, just screw all the rent, screw all the rent
I never gave a shit
Cause the Trane I never had to pay for it
Happened way in Past Tense
Ever
Ever
Ever
Since I had Four - teen Sense(s)

7. Bàthory Erzsébet

Here. Decompose forever, aware and unholy, encased in marble


and honey from the swarm, a thin coat of eternal whispering
that bleaches from within, a darkness that defiles thought,
stolen by the wingless harpies whose memories lay waste the valley of diamonds,
where the great One sleeps, her eyes,
placid pits of violent tar and bitumen regurgitated by demons chained to misery,
eyes that see nothing for there is only the darkness that wells up from inside,
a great viscous cloud smothering hope,
a blanket woven from the dung of the old ones,
their disease the tapestry of all that is futile,
her gaze burning holes in the veil that protects the chosen,
her breathe a plague that unleashes the frozen wolves, blind,
their tongues paint your heart with scorpions,
their pestilence an invitation to the only one that matters for
She is the presence that is all that is un-named, for it is Her,
the unbegotten Mistress of the eternal hunger,
dwell forever in her great unholy stomach where the damned befoul themselves in
the glory of her fecund and bloody history,
worship in the torment of a million wasted lives,
bathe in the horror that the blood of time carries with the plague,
and befoul yourself with worship,
for she hates you eternally with the ferocious lust that binds all that inhabit
the wasted and forgotten, the blissful loathing of you is now all that remains,
alone, forgotten and Damned.

((((((((((( over a NAPALM DEATH beat ))))))))))))))

Hell, is what a nine to five is,


That shit don’t give you no surprises,
I’m sick from licking off its virus,
Mommy had the virus’ terminal politeness
Cause…….
Cause they say she
was supposed to be behind it
That gave our home more of they extra prizes
HIV is an animal
Its fucking hybrid
She might die of flu
I do not say what I do
My daddy had no legs
That meant he had no fucking shoes
To run away from this place
What does it accomp - lish
What does it even fucking do!!!!!
To Die
I wish, I wish, wish, wish, wish
Wash
We JUST, JUST WATCH
I see the time on the glass
And the double flask look Fucked
So what the Fuck
Recip –i- ent
from its system
Got obedience,
But I think
I’d rather be a pirate,
Get my grip
on a brick strong
Not for no reason other than it is fun
Got multiplicity
and energy inside of its punch
But there’s no surprises……..they say everythings
Been done but……………… I Done Come………………..
So………….
Hell is what a nine to five is….
That shits like gold
It don’t buy shit
Like its society, Its
fucking priceless……

The videos of Devx were shown in a montage to be archived for research material to be given to
Damn to legislate, new laws regarding prisons when they were to be delivered. The videos
compiled when Devx himself was murdered were framed in a way as if personalized specifically
for Damn’s viewing. They showed a caption at the bottom of its screen reading: CALL 1 800
888888888 FOR FREE MIRACLE WATER AND STRETCHER BARS. Showing how the child
led a successful life afterwards, creating an enterprise despite being imprisoned it focused on X’s
syndrome more as TOURETTES rather than the boring GORE. This may have been so he
could get Devx’ hidden prompt and further the grammar for the OVERTHROW’D moment that
opposed him without him knowing. Damn and the falcon were watching this special in the White
House suite (rented). Although the ethnic lady Mary reporter let it be known to the audience that
the videos were recorded in the past to make everything seem false as if it was a hoax and corny
like something Damn had already seen so he dismissed, reading a newspaper, recling as hid did
to be in exact sight with the falcons mouth who was on a book ledge below the dead owl in his
study. Not heeding its cryptic messages. For him, it was just too weird and obviously over the top
but he took one extra look rewinding the tape to a still image showing Devx flexing as he danced
and Damn admiring the img muscles and sheer attitude. They apparently got back to Damn in
1949 from 1981 for him to see with a note on top not knowing it was the falcon’s fault as he
transported the important package. Dev X remarking in the footage : “ this will be a record for
my son who would be born after the 8th day and so Damn make sure you’re on the side of the
Albino’s in everything political, the crown has to be passed and melted…son right yaherd”…
ANONINNINITY.”Fuck you next caller” IN INFINITY…
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTTTTWTWTIT TWO…
…..and then the video shut off before a further explanation could be given. Damn thought “is
this what movies are gonna be like in the future”. It was in a theater but it wasn’t a movie. It
made no impression on his decisions to reform jails though and so he threw it away. The falcon
flapped his wings to get his attention but at that point went on reading not realizing anything else
was in the room but him.

When morning came the secret service and entourage escorted the Dammons family and then he
to next station. The falcon's surveying eyes come back to a lonely visual obituary for the rented
brown room everyone left- the emotion being transmitted through silence. Eyes made lonely
cries to the room between the camera and image: solemn lovemaking the setting upset and
brown for an audience of U. "Damn is at the podium now again Falcon" "CAMERA DO
WHAT CAMERA DO”.
Green Ferns and ivy grow in minutes to shroud president elect at his inauguration hiding his
leaving by the sentinels escorts chamberliiili and the falcon flies him through a black tunnel
taking Damn's memory.....

CONFUSION
L,IVED GRAMMARS
THE DIRTY SOUTH

( )
+
*
Forty years earlier the candidate as a child lived with ancestors living that had gone through It
but he was born enough on the cusp to be valid in acheiving fluence in ultimate N's. Their time
came at a sound on the end of "nigger" = RRRRRRRRRRR they had pregnant life on. The one
who would not win and so we finish talking about came from a more affluent class caste so he
folds out the picture of the story from being an obsolescent clone TOO MANY(S). The other -
Damn - from a cloudier hybridization with his mother being half white his dad having been
slaves and the raw rape-age story of that ordinary Negro heritage. It was not so ordinary of
course. Conditioning for love countdown sham poo poos. Back on the homesteads Damn went to
the newly opened NEGRO schools learning from the best and doing hardy work to pressurize
contents to open up bigger chests. One day the character of Damn came in from school and
found his grandma visiting after having been in the book Sounder. His home unit included just
his mom and a picture of his dad who had died from over exhaustion in Africa America so it was
a surprise to have another member over. She started her story in d : and then a dash and then it
dashed and then a colon:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: > *

– Jump out the Lamborghini


Hopin’ Dem Crackers See Me

-Lil Wayne “ A Millie”

"Boy come sit down and put ya satchel in the corner". She was cooking grits in boiling water and
frying raekwon's at the same time coaxing Damn to converse sate. Meanwhile she was cooking
underground in a tub of lard brains fused with Omega 8 oils - the ribs got shuttered submerged
and pumped fluid large again in drowning bubbles, deep frying in a water cooler at her feet
below the oven. It pumped the meat and blood as the meat and blood shook to shake off its
moisture from being incinerated – almost. It was red with white lining more santa belly than
elderly candy baldhirsutyBBush G’s mother’s zombie flesh tint. It did’nt have no way to blue its
life from having bloed eyes in meat soaking off to be eaten. She talked like she was flirting with
old lover boy ( Black Granny ), sweetly misleading but penetrating. The smell of soulfood was
getting stuck to the aroma of Damn’s “sitiHiations” and pounded at her own nerves of a past
memory: "Did you have multiple orgasm " said custy. No , Ok, non, nin, nein,ok nine, eight, sin,
seven, six sin, five, four , three, two, one comes her back from her Jurassic past. "Sit down and
let granny tell you a story" she said. "I can talk while cooking and its almost done are u gon eat'?.
No , non - eater he was…. EHTER EATER….."Baby, how was the stool today”? “Was the
squrls all ova ya or what”? “Was the boys giving ya toys in the stalls to give the shakes to stall in
ya stools like Jakes”? “What’s going on”? What the stool look like cause ya know I never been?
"I said I had a good day when I came in granny you know I really don't wanna talk about school
I'm an 11 year old for Christ’s sake" young Damn said."You better watch the tongue, say what
cha say gently and sweet eben when ya wanna be honest."" Nigga who you be sassin" his
grandma say. VULTURES SEEN FLAPPING WINGS IN DESERT OCHRE SKIES
BATTLING FOR SIGHT WITH THE FALCONS. Primordial jump back from that to the
Former. Trance. Whites seen around author then they walk as patrons in zombie form as if
to eat unevolved genus, particular species up cause it interestingly non zombie.
CONSUMPTION. LEVIATHAN. MANIFEST DESTINY. I.
"Mine as well play some ragtime piano tunes then" said in the back of his mind". " No I ate the
Program lunch already". “ I can do without your soulfood Whole Food Delivery via Dahmer
othersider triber Nazi" also said to himself in the back of his mind. Nazi origins unclear to him
yet though. ""what" said grandma ! " Nufin, I aint said anything but I ate already" said light skin
future presidential candidate then elect. The moon shut off lights which seen the kitchen contract
in size when the shadow crept to son it deeply. Big Nigger fighter of Light shadow. Bully’s the
interior structure, rooms sunk and shy surrounded in blackness. This was in the South too
between Virginia and North Carolina so the dark musician spirits in black shadows play
reincarnated in the belly's of crickets and loci in orchestras numbering into the infinity units.
Occasionally Damn went on the bridge to noise night when his mom was sleeping but as he sits
in the chair in the kitchen he thought maybe not tonight. His grandmother would serve him gin
after the hours were over so that he would rest easy on E when her stories were done. He
knew this ritual would happen tonight too which he enjoyed anticipating like a familiar gamble
won. You missed the point in not seeing things even if you gamble wrong when you thought
you've seen something missed - you suspect foul play. Thought perception opposed to
environment mist. Giant red lips kissed you when they pounded the opposite side of the
world in the computer screen to try. Red lips juxtaposed against yellow background and vice
versa.
The kitchen floor was off yellow with his gum brown under soles feet lightly touching it. Scan
up from there like an upskirt camera pedophile with a camcorder to ginger brown legs then
canvas shorts to the hand about to accept lemonade being Herme’d(s) to delightful white
zinfandel fingernails. Made his arm end in image of powdery snow hovering like fingers were
mini tornado vortex’ stretching out and in to consume and regurgitate. The Roadrunner has a
tornado to ride on, on fear from within."What chu doing around here anyway" his grandmother
asked, "cause from where I see it you should of ran away already". "What"? "I don't understand
granny, what'r u saying? "I said yo ass should not even be plush in that chair dont cha know
where u come from…boy"? She went from being pleasant to a new, angry, urgent mood."What"
is what the boy asked again."What"? "What does that have to do with it"? "Are you saying I
should up and leave and abandon mom"?”Are you serious”? "No, not if u consider it abandoning
rather than mutiny, your own abandon is burdening for her" she says “and war is everyplace”.
“War ain’t the same as conflict cuz war can’t happen where there is no place and that’s momma”
Damn retorts.

Theres a boy I know, hes the one I dream of


Looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above
Ooh I lose control, cant seem to get enough
When I wake from dreaming, tell me is it really love

Chorus:
How will I know (dont trust your feelings)
How will I know
How will I know (love can be deceiving)
How will I know
How will I know if he really loves me
I say a prayer with every heart beat
I fall in love whenever we meet
Im asking you what you know about these things
How will I know if hes thinking of me
I try to phone but Im too shy (cant speak)
Falling in love is all bitter sweet
This love is strong why do I feel weak

Oh, wake me, Im shaking, wish I had you near me now


Said theres no mistaking, what I feel is really love

Chorus

If he loves me, if he loves me not (x3)

Chorus

– Whitney Houston
How will I know
If I'm dreaming, why should I care,
If I'm sleeping I'd rather be there"
His love am I keeping
He sees me
So I stare…………………………( )”Oh Yeah”?

The room turned on another axis making him at the point of a different latitude to maintain
supernatural cool, feeling a draft that was artic carbon dioxide blowing gently from a living ghost
somewhere distant though. The shadows concealed the person in Damn from knowing it but
that living ghost looking down from the skyscaper’ mountain onto the shack did (know that he
was looking) and the name was fallconl. But that falcon being a living ghost just thought he was
seeing the snow when he looked. TENANTS MUST READ : lots of rice o roni buckets littered
- we cannot have this. "Stop being a crybaby" the falcon thought. He’s Back: enter the pre
- industry shack in southern south reformed but feudl the boy said "I'm not a burden to mom is
that what you think - its six o'clock why are you cooking grrrr iets anyway? Puff Loon on big
black bitch bitches witches gody shes goody dough spoon spooned- slop. "Poppy is gone what’s
gon happen to the house without a man around'?"Mommy could be raped by a long weapon too,
it could come from the Southern clouds it happened to you from Thor right"? " you should think
about journeying boy is all I'm sayin cause besides all that - I was a girl orphan bouncing around
all over the place and I never loved any of 'em but found love by being lost at birth". “You ain't
even lost ya name yet” ; “had a name that daddy and mommy gave u, had more being wanted
unlike me". "I would think that you could admire me enough to imitate it unsuccessfully even".
What you"? he said."Ur life"? said Damn. Chilhl of D' Ki- Il. Nile River. Moses golden strings
of song ivy his florally dirt body. A dirt ball meta into bushel of Negreen Garden on golden
sands fertile, virginal. The South whispered miles of dancehall shuttering metal built into trees
with I "feel my chemistry flowing can u cause a chain reaction ". Like a jazz musician keeping
time, interruptions occurred to keep the sax soloist in check like : NOW. NOW. NOW.
NOW.NOW (pitty padder)
“Grannies testifying on some shit just listen sonny” is what he thought. She opened her mouth to
flex her jaw while also cracking the dead skin in ashiness around her mouth. There was some oil
on the stoves edge that she wiped with her fingers rubbing it on her hands and mouth to moisten
the dryness with. Falcon goes through a wormhole: HEIL HEATHEN: turn into a vapor to
breeze in bodega cave see NO SMOKING, QUEST sign get Marlboros acknowledge BAYER.
HEIL HITLER INDUSTRIALISM; note to do then – did - done. BACK TO FUN; cruise
on Tennessee highway to get to Mason Dixon area of 1909 state they were in. The crucifix fence
was guarding the conversation of grandma and future to be president. LISTEN AWAY as she
says "So are u thinking about this that I'm telling u". "Leaving this wretched sharecrop and your
white mother"? "Ur a punk waiting to be, be a punk when it was like you cuz we was always
putting holes in ourselves to make us holy: blue out this old country pumpkin belly from a
hole"! "I seen god son you should do the same cuz I aint a granny for nuthin don’t cha know.
"Yeah, I know" he said embarrassed. The room switched a mood as if it went from being a
kitchen to a dining room. His grandmother was waiting to find history even though she claimed
to have seen God. She taught young Damn and rehearsed how he would be president from the
time he was old enough to speech. "I ain't got time to die cause I got to see a black man be
president" is what she would tell him all the time since he could remember having memories
even. And so coded within her urging Damn to leave was her patience finally paying off /wearing
thin - because she would have stayed immortal had this time not come. "Can I have some
quarters for the bus tom/morrow granny cause I can't keep on giving the bus driver apple pies
that I have to make myself" he said cheeikily sarcastically." Yeah and I can’t keep eatin’ em " she
said under her breath. " Are you gonna listen to me though and stop switching subjects junior"!
"Yeah ok" "Alright then listen; you see dem niggaz in the field everyday when you going to and
from school, dem niggaz got precious metals and stones that they hiding inside they inside mouth
waiting to come out like a wolf wan be seen to be mean. If they showed 'em now they'd be too
cold and too sharp to handle cause its power would make em bite they tongues plum off". "When
you in school I be sittin on the porch and seeing those niggaz far yonder but I hear dey songs as
dey was right up next to me. Da reasons bein for why is dat I think dey’s spirits tryin to get close
to me so's dey could get close to you but you's always in school and don’t get out until dey all
done working fo the day and so's u neva kin git the missage. But I think it’s yo time cause dem
boys songs is bout they teeth and showin em. “Member what i said whhns yo's younga dhat
when you's abot to be president dem niggaz gon wan show demi teevs they was hiding for so
long. Now I's believes tdat dhey sing about dem teefs hurtin and how thdey want demsis jewels
to gtiah permanent so they dont have be holding them back nymore and finally they moufvvhs
can get trddansfhormed. They bad fake ol’ teefeises they can finlly be rieid. Dhese is all cklues
boy that like I said yo dtime has come. Datemdhat gold and platinum means the end and you
gotta bounce offsosit like a trampoline and leap all the way into that desert so the 8th day
sooouuunnnssss cin bhurn ya live again". Seesawwwhd timah earth and bounce you and yo’ sis
intah othder parts of it like it was your own playgrunde”. Granny was talking very slow so Damn
could hear her messages well slurring a lot of her words that Damn was unable to catch. But now
she was past being a oracle for him and was a psychic instead and both in Damn’s wonderment
to be two things. Damn was mesmerized as he was astonished to hear his life being told in a
story of the folk tales he heard the man laugh and conjole about around at the celebrations."Dhe
whtse peopls will try to downplay how impotant taim potents your candidacy will be by erasin
histiry and their role in your peop’sa pesons opbression and thdeyy will unibvurrsalize yu sah
sydata ou coud be aniyone but son when you there you best know were you cme frm and who
you were and who you iers. Dey are neveh not seeing……. uhnseeing yuzzzz so yull have to be
infvvinitely greater which you will ta be! You show dhem who rheally be de Jhuews and who
really be the Notziz. Tey wallah eatcha tillem dhey dems emxxplode Davib stars that puridtify
dhos fity on the flauuaag". She exercised her curses like a tourettes sufferer lost speech with a
stroke and the cross on the gloss painted wall ornamented her exorcism of "Hos" like she was the
christma on Santa Claus when he was a Jewish slave trafficker. He left when he trading in her for
Ham and Alcohol every time he made “ha” with her. Her messenger who brought her through
the sea with Moses and kept her under like a mermaid so that the role near her gill would forever
be dependent on: "Grandma the roof is got teardrops on it" said Damn. "No it’s just lcking
son"…… to surbive dis menes….."You and yo new people gon live inside your own blood that is
the fire as well! So you’s be gold again when you soled ind new all ober". “Grandma what is a
Jew and who is the Nazis” Damn felt compelled to ask not really wanting to know though,
wishing he didn’t only to hear her symphony more. "Hold it togeveh boy cause what I'm bout ti
tellei you is goneh a hurt but I habte to be alome now and you have t git gon". Her voice
suddenly changed sounding like one of Damns teachers back at his school: “Once I will say that
I was destitute and rich and still desperate and destitute and yearning and destine and loved. I
will say that my face and body were not – any of these things by some. I want to hold onto
something, not the noise but the sound of primitive machines in the farm like cows sleeping
when alive - they are melancholic in the churning of their bass - a beautiful sound meditating on
turning like electric stars…. dom til thn jst mre shining in the wait”. “Why I gotta be on fire”
Damn asked. One of the many questions withheld liking the mystery too much, being talked
about so extravagantly but he was curious even still. Her slurring eased up and Damn was less
patient now before having been in ehralled more by her abstracted language.
"You a Aries right Boy"?" Yeah grandma thats what Ma says" "You birthdate in April"? "Yeah".
"So you is". "From now on think of yoself as a human torch with flame waiting to ignite. Let that
phoenix take you over the watah when yo cant swim. It will, it will son and make the four - leggd
dogs yo friend cause you gon need em too". "Never trust anyone who doesn’t like dogs they are
probbly cats themselves". He thought "cats aren't so bad" but then suddenly lost all his words,
was speechless because he lost feeling like his sense and his memory of knowing how to talk had
suddenly been stolen. He gasped but then breathed in order to find sounds agin. This lasted for
minutes but he remembered the protective measures his mom taught if he were to suddenly feel
mute (ness). He thought the letter M just like his mom taught. "Hmm, um, my, mmm, m, m, my,
mu, muh, mum, mummy. Then his grandma confessed : "And just to let you know your mommy
aint yo mommy entirely"............then his tongue felt locked to the roof of his mouth where he
could only announce “NNNNNNNNNN”.
His grandmother went on further, to reason his running away by making Damn remember the
child abuse he experienced. She was explaining that there was a better fate that awaits him along
with becoming President and so departing his abusive environment were her judgments. She
explains how she never could intervene but knew through his mother’s methods that she always
had an urge to kill him. The grandmother saying that she was weak and made to be that way by
God. She was right because she wasn’t equipped to handle Reconstruction society and the
pressures it thrust upon her. Her only agency was the force she exerted over Damn. Also not
being able to move into the threshold of murder having been scared of jail which was the really a
fear of her reputation being tarnished. She felt trapped with Damn who was too abnormal for her
to have any bearing in knowing how to deal with him. “You had to be pushed to the limits of
enduring pain and terror so that you could have the strongest will to lead which will reveal itself
as a will to live. Everyone else is insistent on just surviving but you achieve divinity through
humiliation and endurance : acts that hold within them the understanding that you are subservient
to something greater. Something so greater because it admits you can be autonomous from
violence instead being able to understand its necessity in the lives of others to dominate it for
them – absorbing it to to transcend. Why hasn’t your resentment caused you to lash out against
the world cuz I’ve seen what you’ve gon through and you are entitled my son? Remember, you
are not of her because she was only a vessel that God used…….because you needed to be here”.

RIDDLE ME THIS, RIDDLE ME THAT,

WHAT IS THE BEST ART WHEN ITS WRAPPED?

IN A RAPTURE ?

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
CAUSE I’M THE ONLY ONE WHOSE HEART GOT

CAPTURED,

IUSE MY BRAIN WHEN I STARE AT IT IN A CAPSULE,

MY EYES ARE CURED IN THE WATERS

OF THE FACTUAL.

SO LIKE A PHILOSOPHER

AND THE WORLD………SOCIETTTYYYYY( nirvana child


baby in da ghetto kettles)……..

MY LOGIC IS OFF THE AXEL

LIKE ARTAUD OR NIETSCHZEEEEEE

BETTER YET I USE THE W.E.B……..

BLACKOUTNESSEssssssssssssss

NO DIRECTION…………..

IT’S THE TRAGEDYYYYYY

IN THE POST( ghost ) (1)GOD(S) THAT NEED H/

IM-IMPEEEEEEEACH

BRING HELLS PLACE BACK in hear( a, e, I )


……………….SO I GOTTED THE UPS…………………

LIKE THOSE TREES DID FALL ON ME

TO GIVE ME ELECTRICITY TO SPEAK ( sum of ITS )

I’LL START OFF TO END IN A LAUGH

THAT CRACKLES

WHEN MY BRAIN POPS :

I WAS GIVEN GREATNESS BY MY POPS (UPS)no sound in


parenthesccccccccccccccOoooooo…………

NOW I”LL PUT IT IN A BOX(UPS)

INSIDE THE MARKS THAT ABSORBS(UPS)

TO LOCK WITH ME(UPS)

THEY’RE MY FRIENDS(NO USE) SO WE”LL GO TO

THE

PARTY OF THE WORDS TO ROCK(YES)

ABSURD ON THE LEAFS(NO MORE)

YOUR NOT SUPPOSED TO WEAR YOUR ART


ON YOUR SLEEVES

I DON’T

BECAUSE MINE DOESN’T HAVE

NO BODY OR ANY NEEDS (DOWN<DOWN<DOWN)

JEEZZZZZZZZZ IS US

BUST TOTAL DESIRES

I DON’T MEAN TO BE SUCH A CREEP

THE THINGS I HAVE TO SAY

THEY ARE VERY DEEP

LIKE LOVE, GOOD AND EVEEEEE

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLL”! (ALL IS TOTAL U NITE


UNITED U NITS ITS ( CAME FROM CHRIST )
TSS)laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhllllllllllluuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvITS (the’s)

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

HIMMMMMMM

AND THEY GET WAY PASSED ME

WE LIVE IN A TIME WHERE OUR TOPS


ARE TURVY

SO IF YA GOT SOMETHIN TO SAY

“NIGGAS PLEEEEEEAAAAAAAASSSSSS”:

The black ink that makes a mark is like a sat fire


I hold it like a sapphire
It’s the only thing that is a good liar
It is my lair
I’m its readied suicide when it chose me to be nowhere
Now It’s my only prayer
To make me come back home when I wasn’t there
Rare, yet erotic when it stays so bare
I want the follies and the follicles that make the fires here
I hate the water in my body
Cause it’s the fire in me,
that makes me not able to suck on the other fire’s cares
La Di Doddy…………………………... Daddy
My sign looks like an I so I had to dot… He …..when I died on my hair……MINE KAMPF/TO BALL and O
so SIRIUS

Damn earnestly tries to counter his grandma’s argument by saying “ she cooked for me and made
sure I was fed and even sacrificed by giving me things she didn’t have to so what about that and
how come ya voice sounds different? “Yes son she gave you things but are they………these
things so substantial? Can you not get money or food from the government, schools, strangers,
and still not feel that you’re truly cared about? “Damn are you truly not resentful of the abuse she
inflicted upon you – all the beatings, debasement, torture: the want to rob you of everything that
was good and gentle”. “If you never found the gift of words to help in regaining you will then
where would you be my son? Remember the time I was visiting and right when I got in the door
she had beat you and threaten to call the Klux Klan when you didn’t stop crying so that you
would clean your room when you were trying to study for school?’Remember that back when it
happened? “They came anyway to get her to stop torturing you and when they left they laughed
at the both of you feeling proud and confirmed. But what they didn’t resolve was the fact that
you mother was half white only seeing her darkened like the man she let get inside her – jealous
because even she wasn’t the same as them. You can’t blame them because your community
looked the other way, in the opposite direction of your horror – the horror that was going on
around them, they were surrounded by a fleet of white horses and brooding architecture that was
bad because they believed in it”.
“Son, I was there after your time when a child named Mary was murdered by her parents and the
first thing they told her was that she was a bad child. They did this so the child could have a
better sense of her needing to be punished. She believed in their hate making it a part of her in
her psychology cause children are taught that bad things have to be made good or that bad
behavior can be fixed because mommy and Daddy are older and they know what’s good and
correct”. She paused as if she was growing outward with her words and Damn used the moment
to ask “what is behavya” condescending to her slightly to urge on the progression of her lecture
repaying his question with little attention to the answer.“Food, money, shelter; these are things
that can be found mostly anywhere so don’t let anyone have claim over it, don’t never let em tell
you they own it”! Never mistake philanthropy for love which what a lot of parents are –
philanthropists to make up for their own guilt and internal bankruptcy. Love is the only thing that
emancipates someone if they allow it to and it the only thing that you can have a claim over. It is
the only thing that humans can own that is not ephemeral and fleeting. Total love allows one a
quality which creates totality in it being able to be the only thing that can never get lost, decay,
erode as it is recoverable and originates to recover, yourself outside of yourself through
others”….. “Granny you sayin’ a lot words that I can’t undastand but I think I wan my mommy
now cause why do you look all big and scary….where’s my mommy at? Damn said in a scared
cower as his grandmothers black radiance thickened and materialized in the shape of a blob with
wings and an all consuming gloom. In the bass of her now booming voice she went on further
to” tell him about himself” causing a storm to occur and the house to break unfolding its walls.
All the lights shut out and Damn’s grandmother’s – he ran from her as fast as he could away
from his terror and the terrific sight of what was going on. In his sprint now running on a dirt
road, the trees measuring his distance he looked back to be sure if he should be afraid in what
was calling his movements forward. He looked back to see himself wrapped in a blackness and
only a moonlight reflecting off grass blades to let him know he was still on familiar solid ground.
What he seen in these short glances of the other direction was an enormity of jet black sky and
growing distant were white grinning teeth set against a black background possessed it seemed
with the spirit of night. The whites in the eyes saring at his chase were the whitest he ever seen in
an eye before but the pearlyness of teeth were his only evidence the blackness had an identity. In
the distance as he runs away her eyes look like blinking stars as if they had histories far beyond
his remembering night skies to look like when he visited them on bridges to make music. Finally
in one last look back she appeared to smile that looked like an upturned slice of moon as if it
were meant to be a seat to recline in. Suddenly as Damn shouted and breathed as he was running
he spoke in languages he hadn’t known but one which he did recognize as GERMAN. Now he
spoke as if possessed of another’s lung that struggled of its own accord to manage the yellow
gases he seen in that night’s air as he exhaled. They seemed to cling to his words, seeing them in
black lines disintegrating in the air he blew out when they charred turning to ash in the cloud
from his mouth as he ran. Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…………………
…………….

Feeling the emotion swell up upon hearing this newfound falsehood of his life in its fantastic
horror and the absurd ignorance of her justifying these explanations in something strangely
malicious - he ran. He left his grandmother sitting in that old rickety brickhouse in that sweaty
kitchen and ran straight out the door onto the road and onto the night that seemed to become her
as well. He ran, ran, ran, ran from the people calling him from the sides of the road after him - he
ran anyway. And when they did beckon him like this he ran faster. He ran into time. He ran as if
he had just come out a fire and was on fire. He ran from that wretched old lady as her beautiful
concoction. He runs away from this fate with the full knowledge of his supposed purpose - he
runs away from himself made over. He runs as a bundle of skin, misshapen as a brown
lump trying to find his legs or his arms within the mass of flesh as an invalid- he runs, falls, rolls
then his legs emerge but quickly become enveloped within his new formlessness like he was his
own vacuum - a scupltured Gumby of lumpy quicksand terracotta nest that was edible. He was a
grotesque figure now resembling a rounded star or an idea of it. He was chronicled by the cries
of the people that wanted to eat him calling out his name and him calling back at them to mark
his conscious in time. He was more than himself now being them and himself simultaneous to
continue on in them. He was a collage of dough with a wounded face – no real eyes (chips) – no
mouth (chips) – no nose (just redness). Finally he finds his appendages again and runs
away desperately trying to walk, stand up straight but he is limited, beholden to his muddy body
in a ball. His legs gain solidity and he continues exerting himself to catch more speed. He runs
now with the knowledge of what and who he is as it is constituted by the new body he was given
when the name was implanted to tell him it wasn't ( a body, a name). He runs to find a new name
saying his over and over and over again to himself and to the people that chase. He runs like a
cookie away from the milk that will dissolve it. He is wiry, bendy, athletic and eventually
skeletell in two dimensions. He will have to cross a body of water which will be his
enemy/salvation. He will recruit the help of a bird to help him cross the body of water and he
will be delivered, to float riding on a dog’s back. The animal is his vehicle. He has no other way
to get over knowing he is not mud but something unmistakably similar given value by the
pursuits. His getting over is dependent on this animals body - a potential predator. He trusts the
dog though because the spine of the wolf’s back will be his temporary landscape amongst the
treachery of water. Not unsuspicious he knows his shelter is precarious for his ground is doubly
sinister. The dog could drown him, eat him , die and the water will sink and dissolve him. He
knows that in order to keep going he must resist this fear and ascertain himself to later depart
from himself. He must maintain distance between everything that is not him because he could be
swallowed by them if his guard was let down. He must rename himself over and over forging the
solidity of the role he must now play trying to find the truth of who is was. Running he was just
trying to live a life. He didn’t know if being chased meant that the people loved him or hated him
so he ran faster becoming stronger in his speed. His pouncing the ground faster and faster would
appear as if he was warding off death abstracting its surface and its sense of itself shifting its
walls. He cannot deny his grandmother being guilty and connected to her in his
transformation(s). He will run once on solid ground to declare everything he is and inherit in
his declaration to those he yells back at is everything they are not - when he leaves them. The
gingered boy runs in a circle the beginning being his ending. The thing that is Damn moves so
fast now – too fast hyper his nitro feeding his engines in fear, hate ,terror and his turbo sprints
fracture the space in his locomotion. Through its cracks and ruptures where he rips its
consciousness - his too is pulled in these seams. He leaves an aftermath of a divestated zone
reconstructed albeit having been pulled along and manipulated by his mercurial traverse. A
dimension having the sheens of metals over it- invested it is - with warrior force including
Damn’s. It is an architecture mechanized to war mirroring the anguish and inhumanity that it
birthed, merged to the memories in Damn that it now holds and uses in forms sharp and angular
to haunt him. Soon he is will reawaken to the self he lost there. It will be a lively place for which
people inhabit and the monster that will set his path for days to come…when he rediscovers
those images and stories again as they escape the captivity of the places time - out its wells. He
divorced the ground to stop running and instead take flight now when he is past all of this. Damn
ran, he ran, he ran, he ran, he ran to himself at the edge of a river where he cannot cross. He went
into a falcon’s mouth to get over and docked 9 years later being a young man in a normal body
and then later on as President remembering nothing but his grandmother being lifted over the
water by the falcon. These are the footsteps of his proclamations and the airs tumult against the
feathers in his glide being inside. In there, he felt unutterable speed:

...........
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

................................
A Folk Song :

The Leaves are Falling/


From the Planet that’s Disguised
The Leaves are Falling/
Like its Granite from the Sky/
There Falling And Calling
Your Demise/
There falling/
And then they finish all thats Lies/
They vanquish/
The Planet with there Granite in the Sky
Cause they finised In there Lives/
So they dont give Shit If you fry
They'd rather see It like its Prized/
But cha goals got Granite
Came from a different planet

Birds
Birds
Birds
They are mini icebergs

The Leaves are Falling/


From the Planet that’s Disguised
The Leaves are Falling/
Like its Granite from the Sky/
There Falling And Calling
Your Demise/
There falling/
And then they finish all thats Lies/
They vanquish/
The Planet with there Granite in the Sky
Cause they finished In there Lives/
So they dont give Shit If you fry
They'd rather see It like its Prized/
They ain’t got no standards
In their goals,
Came from another frozen planet
When it froze
The same as that with the fire in its hole
I’ll transform my jacket to gold
Taken from the soul that I sold
Mold it from the granite/
That came from the planet that I loath
But cha goals got Granite
Came from a different planet

And it gave ya the plans and the plants in ya Fight


To Survive
Inside
Inside
Inside
The Ugly Folds
Where he resides
Re Sides
Re sides
To Hide
Inside
Inside
Inside

"Come on people now


Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now"
When i was an alien
Cultures were not opinions
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Never met a wise man
If so it's a woman
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Just because you're paranoid
Don't mean they're not after you
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, (screams)

The White Garden Project……………………..


WE CASH CHECKS PAYABLE TO CORPORATIONS is the sign that read over the
sleeping, twenty year old, Moses baby, in black helvetica scrawl against a florescent yellow
background. It hung haphazardly from a nail in the trunk of an african Bushwick palm tree
except he was in the East Village outside of a college called Cooper Union where he decided to
sleep after a long day wandering the city with the aroma of burning petroleum stalking. As he
woke forgetting about what had happen before he heard the faint words of his grandmother’s
syrupy southern dialect say "yes" remembering how she said "yes" and why she said "yes" to
anything which was her way. Every time her voice made him think about things in the world that
moved slow. As for the "yes" he thought that maybe it was because she was able to exhaust the
words meaning the more she said it and when she sternly said "no" (fiercely) it would resurrect
her "yesses" frivolty and weakness to make one question if she ever meant them. The strength of
her "no" gave birth to the imposter behind the "yes". Damn thought about making himself
ignorant sometimes to some things in a way which shouldn’t be misconstrued as romantic
because he thought that he wanted aggression but what he really wanted was aggressive romance
( that was his disciplined spirit rising up again ). For finally he will be equipped to handle the
streets he's been asked to travel because although he ran away (his grandmother set him upon a
path and the people made it eternal as they chased him there voices merging with the landscape
too ) he can ponder her a little more as her sounds blanket the noise coming and drifting away
before he is fully awoken catching the remnants of an night lullaby. Her voice came to him that
night in breezy magic carpet gusts of air before he went to sleep on the bench below The Peter
Cooper statue just like the mysterious southern wind he departed. The grotesque bench he was
lying on went outside itself becoming swathes of Notre Dames uncurling from its original floral
design injecting into the color of a flowing nightgown (blue) - as treacherous and arcane as the
persona in it he unveils to make use of in his sleep. From his memory he rolls himself in its quiet
patterns so he could pretend to be the mummy that he admired in her. It was safety from the
bodies of all the strangers and homeless men that inhabited the space with him. Now it was dawn
and he heard a gruff voice carrying on a conversation with a person that must've been sitting next
to him but when he looked he didn't see anyone so he asked the man at another bench if he was
talking to him. The man said "yes" and that "frankly it’s just a cause to celebrate after you've
given up while still being able to take a drag off that giving up cigarette". "You should pass it to
me cause I want some of that "giving up" cigarette too.......why don't you move over and unwrap
yoself like you's some faggot or something …a fucking caterpillar". Damn was smoking through
an opening by his face - it being the only area that wasn’t covered in cotton. He came over to
where Damn was laying taking the liberty to sit and then Damn emerged so they were both
sitting upright on the bench next to one another but facing the traffic and at the top point of
the triangle where the park jutted out having a view of the Bowery. That sat up as if preparing for
a potential showdown – stiff postures. "Too good to give up anything , if I wants it I'll takes
it........we all cold right now and needs some blanket" the man using his arm to swip the air to
show Damn all the other homeless folks who collected in the park over the night to sleep. Damn
felt a slight yank at the blanket he had over his shoulders which wasn't an aggressive gesture just
a touchy feely way of expression the way some blacks do. Even still he responded by whispering
" My grandmother gave me this blanket"."Oh you too, I had a blanket that my mother gave me
that I lubricated myself in every night like this but you know what I had to do"? Not waiting for
an answer the man said " I had to realize that the change of scenery goes with a change of
company, most of them knowing how to endure the cold and survive with the barest materials
possible" said the man feeling very self assured. "Do you know what that means then"? "No"
said Damn looking at his very plush oversized blanket. " It means that a lot of these folks
become primitive and almost savage - like and just to prove a point they will take a very long ,
yellow piss on your valued blanket to let you know it’s more than your face, your voice and your
ass which turns you into a bitch but your nakedness to this cold that's liable to get in up in it
more than anybody else." "So if you don’t want that to happen start sharing boy"!
He tugged the blanket in his direction again this time harder and with a older brother sort of
aggression which made Damn get the point and extend his blanket over the shoulders of the
unknown man even though he cared little about the cold and it was a slightly sarcastic gesture.
There was a pause - waiting. "I used to go to this school "Damn said. "Oh yeah me too, did you
have a teacher named Dog" feeling the freshness of this person on his mind? He was a Marxist
Artist right the man giving himself time to think back said after Damn reminded him by saying
"aren't they all". "That’s so funny I used to go there too....... what a coincidence…but why you
sound angry? Not noticing before from having been somewhat frightened of the man too much to
look into his face he looked now to express the contradiction in the man’s statement seeing that
the man was wearing contact lenses. “If you don’t mind me asking are those your real eyes?
Damn asked the man within the pause that came after their compromise - relinquishment. As the
man was answering he looked down to see that he had one of those finger long silver rings that
the black and latino kids wore who hung out on St.Marks St and West 4st. “These….hell no,
when’s the last time you seen a black man with fully red eyes…you think I was a demon or
something”? “ No, but for all I know you could have been a veteran that got injured in a war or
something aren’t most of these folks”. Please brother that’s a misleading stereotype cuz if
anything it’s a war scar by cosmetics and my liking of the Industrial goth vampire scene…I’m
only 24”. Immediately after the man said this Damn went on hastily to ask “are you an Afropunk
cause I’ve just been waiting to meet…I heard about y’all….”No I ain’t no fucking Afropunk ,
you think just because ……anyway never even mind that’s why I can’t stand Black people”!
Damn went to question the side of the man’s face “but you are….whatever” as he stopped cause
he didn’t want to press him or his luck. “I’m actually Celtic but I didn’t mean it like that, cause
its certain black people who are so defined and who define other black people that I just can’t
stand cause it for God’s sake look at where we are”! “Its cause of that that even here you know”
the man went on to declare with explaining himself to Damn further. The man felt temporarily
relieved still feeling like there was more of an answer that was lingering that he just couldn’t
find. He felt frustrated as he was pulling his reasons from the same unfounded well of absurdity
that people judged him by. Damn was a newcomer to New York so he was looking around. Damn
would not pry into the history of the body that reclined beside him albeit “artsy” to a degree,
knowing that he was bigger, blacker and quite older than he so if he were to know more he best
be precautious and tread lightly. He knew if anything these cultural assumptions didn’t diminish
his being poor and black and if anything this “feminizing” because he was “artsy” probably
angered him more especially coming from another black male even cause it would give impetus
to conflict eventually if Damn got too loose from the mouth even though he was curious to know
about the man all the same. “So how’d you like art school”? Damn asked switching the subject.
“Please man I’m sorry if I was all like (puts bass in his voice) “nigga I fuck you up” in not so
many words when you woke up but that’s just how it is when you out here but I’ll tell you, you
don’t have to put up any fronts cause between us (motions over to look Damn straight in the
face) this shit is tiring”. “We treat livin like jail but it ain’t and I’m not nobody’s soldier and I
damn sure am not a prisoner”. The man felt guilty as if he was unduly confessing. “Yeah man I
agree but you don’t have to apologize cause I understand when you have to protect yourself”
“I’ve been living in the city for about three years since I was going to that school ( nods back to
the building in back of them) so I know how testy shit can be when all it seems like people
wanna do is use you like a tool cause they think you a safe nigga”? Damn says back to the man
as he himself gazes out into a distance seeing through the corners of his eyes that the man’s head
was bowed with the weight of his upper half on the knees of his legs as if weary – making
himself in the image of depression - loneliness how Lincoln was have said to look contrasting
with the confident posture of the Peter Cooper statue overhead. The man being just as vulnerable
in his curiosity towards Damn, relieved now as if his silence and stoicism had been aching for
the moment to burst feeling comfortable in order to have “good conversation” “without no hang-
ups”. He knew he knew so much, yet between living in the shelter, the streets or in his scene he
always had to rework his intelligence within the all too often dismal confines of communication
that separately, held off from one another - these cultures offered him novel entertainment and
company. They were no longer relevant separately if they segregated him from the fullness of his
life. He wished that the esoteric languages of all these worlds could have a context for which
they could be together in and not exclusive to the environment from which they operated from.
Seeing Damn and his unsophisticated style as a kind of sage- like hobo, he was attracted and
presuming his assumptions too might be wrong than at least he exhibited the signs of a man like
him who really “didn’t give a fuck” cause Damn really was aloof. “I’m actually done with being
an artist and I’m just waiting until the Fall semester begins again to get my money whereby I’ll
study law” Damn announced as he was trying to ease back into a less somber chatter but also
interested in following up his earlier bonding about having gone to art school and what that
meant for each of them. The man was going into a zone contemplating the jargon he was
thinking about before he got reawakened and then said “oh yeah, at least you have a choice to go
back cause I got thrown out but why law”. “Because I’m religious” Damn said. “why is that
exclusive….why not art now too”. “Because I’m too spiritual and who needs school or any
institution for that”? “For you see art is my spirituality and my spirituality is how I live” Damn
said smiling in the face of the man. “Oh” the man said. “I see we mutually have lots to learn but I
generally think I know what you’re talking about but I prefer to believe in nothing as that helps
guide me throughout my life but I see that’s a kind of spirituality too” he thought for a moment
and started nodding his head in solidarity “yeah I know what you’re talking about”. The only
thing they seemed to be agreeing on was an uncompromising individuality that they both held
dear. “I think I love the tragedy I guess because look at me I am that” as the man slapped his
chest with both hands in a pathetic certainty. “I think to my own detriment I love being the
outsider” the man backed his last statement up not feeling quite confirmed yet… “which doesn’t
have be tragic necessarily if you sincerely believe in being an outsider” the man went on further
to get to a more decisive point from which to depart from feeling the idea couldn’t be argued
down as easily as before being more stabilized. They both had a capacity to think and theorize
over and over in the colloquialism of a dialogue producing hypothesis’ and outcomes fluidly, as
they had to, feeling solutions come naturally through their acting on time always being
challenged by it. An ability they relied on because it gave them a control over feeling they could
alter their lives at a moment’s notice. Improvisation was a dialect that they both spoke and
travelled through, getting to regions where they could lose themselves and start back over with
the new ones that they found through movement in a constant flux of performances. Damn
looked at the man as if now he felt as familiar to the fellow on his left as he did to an old friend
he hadn’t seen in a long time and asked “has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like an
artist from the future named Jean Michel Basquiat”? Confused the man answered “I don’t know,
how would I know, I can’t see the future”? “Well you should try cause you do”.” It’s ok because
when I get older I’ll look exactly like him too and we all will” Damn replied back looking at the
man’s quizzical face. The man said “ as long as you’re someone else the best place you’ll ever be
is second to them”. “But if I told you I’ll be President from having known secrets from my
ancestors do you still think that’s avant guard or does it matter even for us….to be a new thing”?.
The man slightly frustrated in a tired sounding tone said “I don’t know but it’s hard for us not to
be bound to tradition…didn’t you learn that in art school? “Yeah, but like I told you I’m leaving
to study law” Damn said excited about this new prospect as it gave him truth according with his
grandmothers prophecy. He had excepted it at this point, feeling signs to be true as he
encountered them and having gone through art school seeing his destiny through the things he
made, getting progressively better as he went along. He thought his skill easily adaptable to a
profession of law to incorporate art into his practice so that when he was president he’d have
more of an impact merging the two – art and law. “Do you listen to Slipknot alot”? “Stop doing
this Frederick Douglass meets Darkthrone thing and start listening to more RnB cause you aint
the apocalypse”. “What” the man said as his attention drifted from Damn’s random statement
directed at him, to his belongings he left on the other bench as a person was approaching it and
because he also had a slight case of ADD. Damn caught himself and his passive aggressiveness
surfacing through the place that caused his involuntary body motions to leave there crux:
waywardly having their own moods inside him, controlling his rational senses sometimes. He
was cruder in his vanity more so than that which he was trying to call out in the man. “Oh, never
mind” wanting not to condescend to his critical urges he was effacing with the “oh, never mind”.
“Here let me teach you how to see the future” Damn invited the man to come closer as they
chatted more. A black dot began circling in the innocent, baby blue sky Damn looking up smiling
at the man with a wiry grin.“You gotta fight me first” said to the man whose name he learned
was Matt. “What” Matt said back confrontationally. “You heard me, can you fight”? “Yeah, and I
heard what you said before too. “Yeah and what chug on do bout it”? Although it would seem to
a stranger that the men were about to war with one another they friendly at this point like they
couldn’t be separated after hearing it others stories and even besides this they felt a bond that
went back through the surface of this initial meeting. They started plaing the dozens with one
another and even began slap boxing in the middle of the park until one of them went into a
stance that the other recognized. “Oh yeah” Matt said straightening up with one arm over his
head and the other straight out as if targeting his opponent with antennas sensing, his right knee
bent up to his chest waiting. “Come on then”! Damn said. They charged one another in a dance
that anticipated the others movements learning that along with being similar they both knew
kung fu too.

Hate is infinite like 8/


But I’m infinter like The Nigger got dreams to live but It can’t/
So…………..
Sold my soul
I don’t give a Folk
The devil holds it in his cloak
He might be the Pope
No, I forgot its under the boat’s coast
Had to go to land to give the lava ta fans and/
I don’t live inside of hell/
But my dances sell/
And I ‘ma tell it like a story from an empty pocket/
He’s profit!/
These closed doors and the lead from my jaws
is only oppor-tunes to be knockin up on ya noggin/
That’s closeted/ He’s raw in his thought’s
pores
Head popping him
Daddy gun was in the drawers
Keep bobbing em!/
Until he put it in a roar/
In these nice streets that you was deprived when/
You just wanted more/
and a real bad bitch/
The black poppies was such a problem!/
The big apple had to be
taken at the core/
Cause it probably started the product/
From his genes
He’s Wished
To be robbin em
age is like his Soddom/
I’ma Pro wit my verbs on the proper hour
The 4 -8- 8 Four/
birth date/
was just so mean like he came from the floor or the steam/
like Time went with me on the color co-or’din-nate/
from silence
To being louder/ God damns
But I’m allowed to
use his words to kill these cowards/
There ain’t no either or/
I nose that I………………..
suck when I try to devour/
The tower like it’s some chowder/
But if I’m not the worst in my caustic’ed
Wicked Worth/
Who has no co-horts
Aint a notha nigga ever had my birth coupled with my worth
That I work/
The Prince started from the warts
Then the flame will die in a curse
of the ill-ness from his fort/
Wowwed em/
nested ain’t no nexted in my rocky powder/
Gun Powder
Its black out like the charcoal and sky/
Way in the past - far thrown - near nigh/
Not so clean
From having to say it………
just makes me mean!
I wish you knew
If seeing is beliv/eving
Things aint what they seaming/
Come out like
the money that we fought when we butted his jaw/
“Need more wars por Fa –vor”
That is why I am so proud of
in this author,
He is Loki no Thor/
the line
that partitions the page from thee/
connecting to the Earth in reverse
Now it’s a lil Nower/
taken to the third power by me/
Fuck a rose from the concrete,
Cause I am perched
just- iced sing-wing on the trees/
I took the last initial from my daddy called Billy/
To swing quite official/
He is so bright when he’s insane in his cheeks/
like a bloody red g/
A buck 50 kinda knight/
Tight/
A con is E-con-o-my/

Make the sun jealous cuz he look a lil sourer/


and its Profane
Draw with the inferno like I use propane/
wit my DarkWings/ better fuck-ing king/
They call em the Hai-tian Howard/
I got my ashes from the earn dough/
Let that man burn slow
He is better wit herbs though
Duck, Duck, Goose loose from my tooth,
not one of the gander/
In my banter
The inks my banner
I’m so dirty and hooded on the white page hatred/
Let the white rage and its races
go in my blood
To get erase’d/ I –Did-id in my Ego to silence my crazes/
dumbing my faces/
Face this wit no hatred/
But the dead is he a’ raisin?/
For hisself, he’s ahead
Bleaching my brain just needs a shower in satan/
Re –phase His/
I ‘ma lil yeller and a lil outer,
From my mouth
Then I put it
in her butt/
Fucking my brain cause I have no hearts/
Only got darts
If the beach can’t ride ALL in my TIDES
She LA in her fakeness/
I’m in nyc on my train
I don’t need no lullabys
There is delays but no ends/
Can I get the cake then?
Tryna get a part to amend
Thinking me in her tight mazes/
Lazy cause the jungle got so tame’ed
Shes as lame
as her guts/
That I git
Tell em he’s already/ ready filthy/like it whether or not
He getting the salt/
I rather run a Lot to the profits
So professor X em out it’s all ya fault/
I don’t need none of ya extra powers
Or ya F marks
Unless the F stands some flowers/
The mind is my own sidekick
not willing to fall/
It’s the sign that I’m psychic
them owners got dogs
Muvafuckas I need a bone/Got too many to pick
S to them I just say “sit”….
Sit on your institutions small pink dick/
Peter Cooper, Peter Fraud/
Your lit. is not even even wit ours
Fuck your Fame
My canon got its own aim/
Tryna get apart
Yes I am a foe fiend/
Yes in this/
I am so naked/
Wit no patience
And if ya not a fan you should blow me/
Cursing is my favorite/
so president can I be in ya new band/
“You knew Jesus”/
Me two
when I was my own homey/
Back in B.C. moons
Fuck the world cause I’m in one kinda mood
And it owe me/
That’s my straight up attitude
He made me turn two to new/
Through and through
I’m the shit so just face it/
I don’t hafta give no clues, I am Nasa and not NAFTA,
When I sing my blues/
Breaking with him to be part of the Me in my phlegm/
Only I can own me……and defeat it in my axics…..
Arm, Leg, Leg Arm Ten/
These million airs just hate dem
To get loved stimpy he’s a Lord by Run/
Omega Sent it
The Projects reject whats basic/
Fee for Foe Phife Em/
English said “hes knifing”
Like a kike Stimied
Call me Franking GoldenPissed

Even if it’s pathetic and empty


Hype Em/
But that’s just how my letters take a shit
When they M C
On the book like it’s a toilet/
Thinking its a Titan/A tight in/
I’ll get my Genesis from a better place than Sega
Healthy and Sonic,
City Nigga Hand On a Stack O’ Brick!/
That’s my black revolution
Its coping therapeutic/
So mufucka don’t spoil me
I got the solutions when I’m puking/
Rub it her on tits/
then I’ll put it in her eye/
There aint no refuting/
I’m so hot that I’m boil-ing not fryed/
Make you wanna say “Nigga What”/
“Nigga Who Hymn”?
Nigga Wise/
That is I in my mouths eye/
Aint no nigga likemind,
Did
And I don’t even hafta give no conclusions/
I did my bid/
been in ya town hustling ever since,
always fucking cruising……………………
You know me as the nigga asking for a cigarette/
In ya “no’s” you should know it wasn’t abusing…
It was the fun and muse for the music/
Take me like a lethal drug/
Make ya heart exposed/
For dem use my music
Like a bomb to explode
“Be still”
Excuse em for meltdown
I’ll excuse you for ya hose/
As I untangle like the cotton in my clothes/
Never listen to a person
When they art so exposed
Cause it’s supposed to be Post………..and not opposed
I don’t deal wit these notions
Just, Just, Just, Just iced
just coasting……..
Glaciers… He Hears… he’s hoping…………

When I was a child, I spoke as a child,


I understood as a child, I thought as a child
But when I became a man,
I put childish things away.

– 1 Corinthians 13:11

Chorus:

Oh, I’m been traveling on this road too long,


Just tryna find my way back home,
The Old Me is Dead and Gone

– T.I. and Justin Timberlake


( Dead and Gone )

In the discussion and the playfight, Damn had learned that the man’s name was definitely not
Jean but Matt. The kids who were milling about behind them while Damn and Matt talked and it
looked like they were students to the school in the back that Damn and Matt had been talking
about and had gone through. Not having recognized Damn though as they should’ve as he was
still a student there, they had not bothered to approach Damn and Matt assuming they were part
of the scenery and homeless.Especially feeling nervous as the two men fought they blasted music
from a boombox as now they had beach and lawn chairs taking a break from work picnicking.
They were playing old, old RnB with mashups of current songs until they played a song that
caught Damn and Matt’s interest scoring their exhaustion after having just exerted themselves
displaying their skills to one another.

Tomorrow never comes until it's too late


Tomorrow never comes until it's too lateAt the starting of the week
At summit talks you'll hear them speak
It's only Monday
Negotiations breaking down
See those leaders start to frown
It's sword and gun day

Tomorrow never comes until it's too late

You could be sitting taking lunch


The news will hit you like a punch
It's only Tuesday
You never thought we'd go to war
After all the things we saw
It's April Fools' day

Tomorrow never comes until it's too late


Tomorrow never comes until it's too late

You hear a whistling overhead


Are you alive or are you dead?
It's only Thursday
You feel a shaking on the ground
A billion candles burn around
Is it your birthday?

Tomorrow never comes until it's too late


Tomorrow never comes until it's too late
Make tomorrow come I think it's too late

(A billion candles
burn around
Is it your
(birthday))?

Make tomorrow come I think it's


too late

“Whew” Damn said doubled over catching his breath. “Yeah you’re good” Matt hollered back in
the same position as they looked down the chasm – the stretch of space that separated each other
as each other’s ten minute ago opponent. They had dizzy from dizzying and abstracting for
themselves that space that was this city with there aerial assaults and death defying feets. Now it
was normal back to but they were tired looking at each like two matched athlethes. There was
nothing the other did that the other couldn’t counter that left them at a stalemate with the only
leaving to do was calling a “alliance” and him saying “truce”. After this they got tighter, tighter
than they had the capacity to be before. They needed the catharsis from having to suppress all the
emotions that the conversation aroused and as men they couldn’t tell each other. The fighting
brought it out. Breathing hard and being in a locked glare looking at one another in there stations
where they could continue the fury of the acrobatics they gave each other a hand shake and a hug
and sat back down on the bench looking over the shoulders briefly at the kids who gathered in
back in an outdoor celebration. The other one said to the other”who was that guy you were
talking about”?” Oh yeah, he just someone who someone said I got the facial structure of when
get older” that’s all. “How’s that”! “You know you a artist right” Yeah but that mean I ‘posed
know every artist there is” Know you got know yours and the important ones” “Yeah I guess”
Damn said. Feeling like this was a good moment to give Damn more insight into his plans
knowing Damn was lost to from everything they spoke about he invited Damn to read a paper he
was working on wing about one of few admired artists. The paper hand to Damn was in stark
black Helvetica text and it read FRANCIS BACON AND DEATH. Being attracted to its cover
Damn sarted reading while Matt told him about his his plans and his life before within these
plannings:

MATT TALKS TO DAMN WHILE DAMN READS:


“Before art I school I was a stowaway, a matey, and then having learned about ships I
learned some sailing techniques. I had a lot of experience on any kind of ship having
runaway and living on my own since all my. For awile I’ve been in dire straits but even
though I’m here with you right now it ain’t so made cause I signed on for an expedition
getting employed by a very nice group. This one’s to The ARCTIC i was told assisting this
guy Capt.Bobby Johnnie. Since I was homeless, loafing around around place to place but
never stopping the art I was doing being tired of the double duties this was a nice
opportunity to get away, have a place to stay and most of all yet paid and also..to get back
to the sea and nature again. I supposed to leave the harbor in a couple of days so that’s why
I tellin you cause I like you nd would like to stay in contact so we could connect again
hopefully. They gonna have all the material….oh I got forgot, I’m going wit a real old
organ inn mxzszgedsdf sorry organization! Thy was like since slavery times and they white
as hell. These Albinos!. You ever seen an albino?These niggas got damn near red eyes most
of the time. Sometimes them shits look demented. But look like angels or fairies when they
blue. It depend though on which colors that’s not white go wit the other ones that make a
difference. Yeah and they hair is white/( “uh..what..you said
something”?................................................................. )
Damn……”yeah I’m listening go”..you got some things that I like here but keep going….
Yeah anyway like I was saying They look real ill man and you should see the fucking
captain! Yeah man when I interviewed they took right on the spot seeing how good my
resume was. They walked all around they compound they had….yo, this place was in the
fucking boonnies bee like these muvafuckas coulda had they own city that’s how isolated
and deep this was man for real! Dey hair is reel ril lite too! Like not even blond so that shit
ishit like white. My nigga these niggas is white all the fuck over! Yeah but,
yo they was plotting on some ill shit that you coud just see in they aesthetic, in the buildings
in they clothes, the fucking pictures, umm….what else…umm….shit I ‘o know I I cant
remember what I was bout to tell you….damn… What eva it was that shit was ill. Yeah…
they had mad ole pictures and mufucking ohmmmmm…….the fuck is that…..ohm……..
relics! Like they took me in this museum right and din inta some secret right? Yo, lemme
finish becuz we aint even hafta walk or nuthin when I was there cuz they had like these
escalators….fast as all hell…. And conveyor was like just for loking around that was al ove
te place takin us yeywhere.
Damn: that’s crazzzy yo….why you say my body is the aftermath of your life….in this last
paragraph? You mean “after math” or “aftermath” cause you got a space in the middle.? You did
that bi accident!?!!!!!
Matt: Nah. None
Matt: Yo WE GOT THROUGH DA THE CITY IN LIKE A MIN WHEN HE WAS TAKIN
ME ALL AROUND!
Damn said “ Ga ‘head keep on gonen!” I hear you what chu saying..this paper’s is really
good”…….
You was saying that the albinos is red, yeah, yeah I got chu..keep goin……
Aight. Yeah, so…they just mad old right. Them me just give this paper they gave like this
pamphlet and shit cause you gon I think I tryna be in a cult or sumfin.” “Aight, well this
back if you want me to read that”.! “Aight here”. “that was good though”. “Oh you like
it..yeah I’ m tryna turn it sumthin.Yeah min, you should I don’t know you gon go to the fuckin
cold ass…nigga there are glaciers..niggas cant be wit no glaciers”. “You man, what I said before
bout that black shit” I told you I got Celt inme men” Nigga I gould do anything look at deez
fangs and look how how I look”? You see anya these niggas give me bad looks over there like
they want it”. Let one of y’all niggaz fuck wit me”. “Chill my dude, they even say nuthin”. I’m
just saying just in case ….that nigga bed not get the fuck up either….I’ll FUCK HIS ASS UP”
“Chill Matt I thought you claim to be diffrent. “Nigga I’m chill”. “Yo, stop gitin angry.” “Dat
man aint even lokk at cho though…yo wanna go bomb some galleries with me cuz dat was my
plan fa taday…you need to calm down”? “ Yeah, cuz if I don’t Ima end up fucking dat bum
ass nigga up ova dere” “Aight well take these yellow balloons, blow em up and Ima attach
pages from these books I got”. “Yo, when we get there just act like you a patron lookin at da
art”.” Then when I nod drop the balloons and Ima throw these these needles and litter it by
em..”Aight?. Aight lets go din……”Where we going”? To this one called Gagosian in Chealsea”
“Aight lets get it” !

“Quick Draw McGraw I went to art school”


Lil Wayne
– FireMan
– iiiiiiiiiiiiiii
– VVVVV
– !!!!!!!!!!!
1111111 [edit] Educational issues
The anti-literacy laws after 1832 contributed greatly to the problem of widespread illiteracy
facing the freedmen and other African Americans after Emancipation and the Civil War 35 years
later. The problem of illiteracy and need for education was seen as one of the greatest challenges
confronting these people as they sought to join the free enterprise system and support themselves
during Reconstruction and thereafter.
Consequently, many black and white religious organizations, former Union Army officers and
soldiers, and wealthy philanthropists were inspired to create and fund educational efforts
specifically for the betterment of African Americans in the South. Blacks started their own
schools even before the end of the war. Northerners helped create numerous normal schools,
such as those that became Hampton University and Tuskegee University, to generate teachers.
Blacks held teaching as a high calling, with education the first priority for children and adults.
Many of the most talented went into the field. Some of the schools took years to reach a high
standard, but they managed to get thousands of teachers started. As W.E.B. Du Bois noted, the
black colleges were not perfect, but "in a single generation they put thirty thousand black
teachers in the South" and "wiped out the illiteracy of the majority of black people in the
land."[81]
Northern philanthropists continued to support black education in the 20th century, even as
tensions rose within the black community, exemplified by Dr. Booker T. Washington and Dr.
W.E.B. Du Bois, as to the proper emphasis between industrial and classical academic education
at the college level. Collaborating with Dr. Booker T. Washington in the early decades of the 20th
century, philanthropist Julius Rosenwald provided matching funds for community efforts to build
rural schools for black children. He insisted on white and black cooperation in the effort, wanting
to ensure that white-controlled school boards made a commitment to maintain the schools. By
the 1930s local parents had helped raise funds (sometimes donating labor and land) to create
over 5,000 rural schools in the South. Other philanthropists such as Henry H. Rogers and
Andrew Carnegie, each of whom had arisen from modest roots to become wealthy, used
matching fund grants to stimulate local development of libraries and schools

We are the G-O-D's,


And we came to rock the spot,
Like Ironman Starks,
They be the illest MC's, in the world today
Cappa, Raekwon, and the R-Z-A
So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear
Light your blunts and down your beers
Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...

[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]

Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge


Knowledgists, street astrologists
Light up the mic God, knowledge this
Fly joints that carried your points
Corolla Motorola holder
Play it God, he pack over the shoulder
Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise
Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives
Rapel on fakes like reflectors
He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career
We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna
run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo
And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break
Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake
Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing
Claim they doin the same shit we doin, fuck your unit
It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle
On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials
Especially that, aluminum bat in the act
Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black
The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex
Index finger be sore, bustin these fly scripts
The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans
Layin with my bitches and my mans in Lex Lands
We losin em, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem
Abusin em, rockin his jewels like we usin em
Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar
Roll with the older God, build with the Son and the Star

[Chorus:]

All these MC's start realizing


That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing
The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest
But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us

[Verse Two: Ghostface Killer]

Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps


Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat
Doin forever shit, like pissin out the window on turnpikes
Robbin niggaz for leathers, high swipin on dirt bikes
Voice be metal like Von Harper radio barber
Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ
The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless
Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners
In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings
Body chemical CREAM, we burn kerosene
The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon
Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in
Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive
I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph
Zoomin like binoculars, the rap blacksmith
Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless
I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy
True identity hidden inside secret tabloids
Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes
The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes
Yo jostling these cats while Little J be deli-ing
Sip Irish Moss out of weed dalliance
[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Cappadonna]

Give me the the fifty thou, small bills


My gold plate, my slang kills
My Benz spills, whattup Lils
Murder one Dunn
Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son
My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon
Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe
The mad-hatter big dick style, beware goons
smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs
Let the Gods build, pull up the grill
Check out the mad skills
Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it
and keep it, jiggy style of rap and watchin knuckle slang
sweep it out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter
spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten
High top notch, borderline rhymes is handcocked
Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot
Get yourself shot

[Chorus]

– Ghostface
DAYTONA 500

^%*%$%^$*&VR UIGF GJVGVG vgVJ


^&I RFTDR
GDT ESEE%^^^^^$&CDEXHT
GHCVGH VGYYD DSERS
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DS W ES%$#$#$^EU^EU
GHC RDTURYI%YED%D^U $EU%#*^|

%%%$###@$#@@@@%@#@@@@@@@@
@@@@@%@@@@@@@@
@@@@@@@@@@@@@
@@@@@%^@@@@@
@@@@@@@@
@@@@@@”K GT& TI^^&^$%^#
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555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
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Damn in gratitude for the man’s blessing whether he believed it or
not hands him a stack of drawings he was working on in the park’s
lawn at noon. The man walked followed him to its fountain where
he crossed his forehead giving him good news. By accident he
hands the pamphlets that Matt gave him of the Albino
Manifestos. Damn walked out the park’s entrance where the
whole time an impromptu performance was taking place of
an electrified Morrocan band playing guitared music with
drums. He walked through the wall of these prayerful desert
melodies humming what he remembered from the sond.
Packing his reservoirs that made him unafraid of being
homeless in the streets of the city. The claimed angel too left
them on the base of the water fountain where the two met.

The Water Read The Book Soaking into the


Paper and Ink Diffusing onto its Surface:

We are the New Future Group who come from the unknown white
star which makes us more and unknown. We have allegiances to
Light and Dark, profusely transmitting ourselves through God’s Art
– Totally to be Total once again in Darkness. We believe in
ourselves only through four letter words to skip the 4th sound being
the 1 or the 3 which is Prime and divisible only by the One. We
float between the Idols and Oneness – not afraid of our Extremes
and the Excesses between 1 and 3 – The Absolute. This is our New
Air Maxed with our New Faces/Graces prophesizing and
metamorphisizing through color – our hues in Transit. Being in the
trappings of steel Leviathanic jails we care Not! It is our Instant
Self Creating Mechanism stretching from this Earth on us when die
and are our new future’s savoir once again. We will invite those
who want a new life when the Earth scorches to join ours in our
Ground hog Day project – an acronym for the 8th day sun when it
leads us into our Utopian Planet of Neth to build a city called New
Neth within a building constructed on the site of a volcano calling
this Building Ontop of Darkness. We will build everything in Anger
Against these “who are Americans”? Americans. They are this
country’s questioning party and so we will be beautiful, fast
aggressive and constituting in those who we want to share this
future with. We will call them Boys as they would evolve to earn
Albino names through the induction of the blood into a virus that
will produce vitiligo and Albinism so they’re will be not only cyans
and gracious tones of whites, blues, blacks, yellows, oranges. We
will look like Delicasies and CANDY- OUR COLORS BLENDING
SMOOTHLY LIKE ICE CREAM THROUGH A MACHINE IN THE VIRUS.
If a Boy found himself as a “vitiligo we would love him more as
more than our whiteness we enjoy dazzling arrays of magnetic and
brilliant colors that wrap and intertwine in patterns circular,
geometric or swirly on our new people, modeling our world on the
beauty of our soon to be New Bodies. We’ve been here secretly for
ages helping in the fight against America’s vicious systems of
slavery within racism and Moneyism’s, saving first all our Albino
brethren locked in the shackles of your government’s hands not
falling to your lies of History by seeing them any different than us
on your basis of them being “Black Albino’s. From our coalescence
within the Abolitionist Movement, for the gains of our Prophesy of
the 8th day, it thus allowed them to gain their Freedom and they
feeling obligated helped in the cause of the darker skinned they’d
been locked in bondage with. We will replicate the SUN and its
environment by extracting from MARS and reworking its patterns
and Revolutions inside a VIRUS for which we will inject into
urselves and those electing into The New Reincarnation when the
8th Sun is ours through our planets controlling device called THE
WHITE GARDEN PROJECT. For a special individual named MATT will
operate it through its HAVING A LIFE OF ITS OWN in THE NORTH
POLE ARTIC. We wil be a race of SYNTHESIACS in our Afterlives
INCARNATE THROUGH SOUND, WORD AND IMAGE IN ONE NOISED
BODY. We will engage fully in OUR violence of SORROW, PAIN,
ANGUISH being complete Kinetic Energy Always living on even if
Dying POTENTIALLY IN OUR FALSE SPACE THAT CANNOT CONTAIN
US. THEREFORE WILL BE HYPER! LOVING TO PERFORM IT IN AND
THROUGH ONE ANOTHER AS BLOOD WILL REGAIN SLOIDITY
THROUGH THE WOMB OF LAVA AND FIRE. EVERYONE WILL BE A
SACRIFICE WAITING TO HAPPEN ONCE THEY REEVOLVE TO BE
SMASHED IN FLESH , BONE BREAKING BLOOD INTO RED GAS AND
BACK AGAIN. Engage Fully in Sorrow/ Fully in PAIn. INSTITUTED IN
OUR BOUNDLESS LOVE – SO THAT WHICH WAS MISERY CAN BE
NO MORE. BUT WE WOULD LOVE TO CALL UPON AND BE
FULFILLED IN FALSITY – COMPLAINING TO GOD WHEN HE IS
ALREADY WITH YOU . NEVER NECESSARY. THE BEST ARTIST AND
NOT DARWINIAN MAN> AFFINITY FOR INFINITY HEARTS AS 1 IN A
TRINITY SURROUNDED BY THE CIRCL – THE SUN. WE SAVED
SLAVERY IN ALBINISM calling ourselves the PHILANTROPIAN
EGYPTIAN ARYAN KRISHNARIAN BEN & JERRY’s IN NETH. FLOWER
OUR PEDALS FALLEN ARE OUR LEGACIES IN ITEMIC SYSTEMIC
HANDS. WE WILL HAVE NO REAL MOUTHES, EYES –ARTICIAL
REEVOLVED BIOLOGIES REMOVED BY THE ART OF OUR SCIENCES
BEING IT. STEEL IS HOW WE CHRISTEN OUR REFLECTIONS. IT IS
OUR MEMBRANE OVER OUR SKINS – WE NEED, LIGHT TO SEE OUR
TRUE IMAHGES IN SPEED OF SOUND. NEVER SEEING IT LIKE
IMAGES OBSTRUCTED WHEN THE PUDDLES ARE MOLESTED. CYAN
GHOSTS – RAINBOW DEMONS ON CHROME IS WHAT WE WILL
REFLECT IN THE INTERIORS OF BOTOD. WE WILL FOREVER MAKE
ACCIDENTS AND MISTAKE FOR DIVINITY CAN BE HAD THROUGH
ITS DISCIPLINE AND STRUCTURE FALLING FROM THE
MASTER.LOVE.JUST.SHEER.ENERGY.WE!

On April 8 1984 we expect the Sun to be at its most deadly cycle to


scorch the earth and its people. This will the dawning of the new
Sun from the birthing place of the old. Being very much prepared
having known this in your document over time, writing to preserve
and reconstitute we have created an injstible object for those
fortunate to have elected themselves into new life. On this day they
will burst from their hearts having taken the pill leaving a patch of
Earth left to inhabit again aring from this spilt blood. The virus in
the pill will be the temperature of the sun thus not burning in the
Inferno that shall be on everything else. We will incubate for 24
years at the time for which The White Garden shall have given us a
city and objects from the new sun when Matt follows its programs.
He will himself be incubated in the region of The North Pole never
growing old mediating our communication with the machine and
our life provider. Some “groundhogs” as they are called will not
emerge from their blood in solidity to be participants in the city yet
and so going through phases of reconstitutions they will live in the
primitive areas of Neth on the outside. Please be warned you have
76 years to give us your blood and induct your future generations
into The New Future Group and we urge all those colored peoples of
the world to enter themselves into ur storehouse of preserved
blood from past generations dead bodies for they can be brought
back once giving us there blood for we appreciate greatly and need
your genius for our – your New World! Sign Up NOW!Be your own
MEET GOD, THE TERROR AND
Saints and

UNVOLITOUS PEOPLES.
sittingIntro: (LP version only)

Choose the sword, and you will join me


Choose the ball, and you join your mother... in death
You don't understand my words, but you must choose
*baby gurgling*
So... come boy, choose life or death Dark is the light,
The man you fight,
With all your prayers, incantations,
Running away, a trivial day,
Of judgment and deliverance,
To whom was sold, this bounty soul,
A gentile or a priest ?
Who victored over, the Seljuks,
When the holy land was taken

We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens


We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens

Was it the riches, of the land,


Powers of bright darkness,
That lead the noble, to the East,
To fight the lord

We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens


We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens
We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens
We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens

We must call upon our bright darkness,


Beliefs, they're the bullets of the wicked,
One was written on the sword,
For you must enter a room to destroy it, destroy it, destroy it.
No International security,
No Call of the righteous man,
Needs a reason to kill a man,
History teaches us so,
The reason he must attain,
Must be approved by his God,
His child, partisan brother of war,

Of war, we don't speak anymore,


Of war, we don't speak anymore,
Of war, we don't speak anymore,
Of war, we don't speak anymore,

We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens


We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens
We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens
We will fight the heathens, We will fight the heathens Gza “Liguid Swords”
System of a Down
“War”

Verse One: Ghostface Killah

The only man I hold wake for


Is the sky-blue Bally kid, in eighty-three, rocked Taylor's
My Memorex performed tape decks, my own phone sex
Watch out for Haiti bitches, I heard they throw hex
Yo, Wu whole platoon is filled with rac-coons
Corner sittin wine niggaz sippin Apple Boone, this ain't no
white cartoon
Cuz I be duckin crazy spades
The kid hold white shit, like blacks rock ashy legs
Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet?
Why did Judas rat to Romans while Jesus slept? Stand up
You're out of luck like two dogs stuck
Iron Man be sippin rum, out of Stanley Cups, unflammable
Noriega, aimin knives which stay windy in Chicago
spine-tingle, mind boggles
Kangols in rainbow colors, promoters try to hold dough
Give me mine before Po, wrap you up in so-and-so
I ran the Dark Ages, Constantine and great Henry the Eighth
Built with Ghengis Khan, the wreck suede wiley Don

Verse Two: Killah Priest

I judge wisely, as if nothin ever surprise me


Loungin, between two pillars of ivory
I'm lively, my dome piece, is like buildin stones in Greece
my poems are deep from ancient thrones I speak
I'm overwhelmed, as my mind, roams the realm
My eye's the vision, memory is the film
Others act sub-tile, but they fragile above clouds
They act wild and couldn't budge a crowd
No matter how loud they get, though they growl and spit
Clutch they fists, and throw up signs like a Crip
And throw all types of fits
I leave em split, like ass cheeks and ragged pussy lips

Verse Three: The RZA

Aiyyo, camoflouge chameleon, ninjas scalin your buildin


No time to grab the gun they already got your wife and children
A hit was sent, from the President, to rage your residence
Because you had secret evidence, and documents
On how they raped the continents, and it's the prominent
dominant Islamic, Asiatic black hebrew
The year two thousand and two, the battle's filled with the Wu
Six million devils just died from the Bubonic Flu
Or the Ebola Virus, under the reign of King Cyrus
You can see the weakness of a man right through his iris
Un-loyal snakes get thrown in boilin lakes
of hot oil, it boils your skin, chickenheads gettin slim
like Olive Oyl, only plant the seed deep inside fertile soil
Fortified with essential, vitamin and mineral
use the sky for a blanket, stuffin clouds inside my pillow
Rollin with the Lands, the tribe's a hundred and forty four
thousand chosen
Protons Electrons Always Cause Explosions

Verse Four: The Genius/GZA (Maximillion)

The banks of G, all CREAM downs a vet


Money feed good, opposites off the set

It ain't hard to see, my seeds need God-degree


I got mouths to feed, unnecessary beef is more cows to breed
I'm on some tax free shit by any means
Whether bound to hit scheme or some counterfeit CREAM
I learned much from such with cons who run scams
Veterans got the game spiced like hams
And from that, sons are born and guns are drawn
Clips are fully loaded, and then blood floods the lawn
Disciplinary action was a fraction of strength
that made me truncate the length one tenth
with the stump, treat his hips like air pumps
RZA shaved the track, niggaz caught razor bumps
Scarred tryin to figure who invented
this unprecented, opium-scented, dark-tinted
Now watch me blow him out his shoes without clues
Cuz I won't hesitate to detonate, I'm short fuse

GZA “4th Chamber”

- 4th CHAMBER

chosen.chosen.stolen by a man claiming, posing. Really all dat nigga was was just
some white god FROZEN.

Five Years later : He was ( Damn was) :

in a domed amphitheater, at a long table with a committee although that


committee seemed to be wound around one member ( main speaker). They were
talking about a blanket making it seem like the world had only been interested in
blankets since it was the only conversation he got into or overheard other people
talking about. They were talking at him and about him without acknowledging his
presence only glancing his way every now and then. They would talk to him to
talk to everyone else like they had to mark him, a clock in a game of chess
banging the timers button momentarily like there ability to move was linked to his
time.... Like it was stop, check Damn then go. "Check Damn to see if he's alive,
oh he is so then carry on, check Damn to see if he's alive again, oh he seems to
be, keep talking as if hes not here then, is he still alive, go on then". The main
speaker sounded off the chorus of statements by the men in the room with whom
Damn found himself amongst. Not remembering fully how he got there - the
image of the scenario he was not fully apart of looked like an important event
in someone’s basement - poker or an assasination conspiracy but the activity
diluted the reality of the space as it seemed like a Senate meeting in an
amphitheater with many filibusters. The African's Americans in suits went on
anyway in a cacophony about the New Negro. “Is this being
broadcasted ” the moderated questioned:
"Yeah....and I dislike his quote on quote "homeless" term instead I'd rather be called something
we all agree on as being agreeable because it describes our manuevering throughout this land
they call Amerikkka.......whether that black man is housed ......or housed within a home is
completely irrelevant". Yeah our situation is one of being "out" more than anything else"! the
latter statement being shouted over the shoulder of the man who made his statement about
homelessness. "Though some of us are separate we are all equal as we can stand behind one
another and proclaim that indeed we are not homeless but within a code that we all go by which I
will identify and announce as simply being "out"! Another man makes his voice heard in the
chorus of greivances as he says "yeah and also I must say for my own satisfaction that I have
developed a special fondness for white women ( pausing for applause but getting none ) by being
in the city and devoting my time to my expressions as they amount through my being here, here
in The Village of course". And so another voice shouted up like a flare, this time aiming with
javelin - like precision, " I reject the spearchucker reference because I disavow any need for
trajectories while aiming to put my foot up yo ass in all matters concerning "le flaneur"and “da
hustle”. " I will chose to call myself "out" and "autonomous" in ways that is paradigmatic with a
modernist approach while never giving up how the postmodernists taught us the value of a good
"read". "You always have to have a good pointer to better up the text" this statement said with a
degree of doubt as the man seemed to be searching. A voice responded breaking the rhythm of
the men's pedagogy as it seemed to be uttered from a cowboy - a dry, John Wayne sounding man,
"hey watch where ya point that thing will ya". Then Damn muttered silently but loud enough to

quiet the simultaneity of songs being sung to ask "Can I say something"? :
High in the mountains of this moment he decided to make a speech that he thought would impact
the men and then finally he would be pushed forward with their help, to realize his destiny cause
he was the only one that could calm their confusion and direct their conclusions he thought:
" I will propose for all those troubled in their situations to see differently and to contemplate
generations past for then we acknowledge our grandmothers and see them truly as a symbol of
hope within our destiny. See different and in fact judge her along the lines of a blackness that
veils itself and hides beneath the thinking cap of a worn - out bandanna. A cap that gave them the
intellect to know that they’d have to own their homes… modernize themselves by moving north
in order to create a new generation of you and I. This intellect or instinct is fossilized in the
amber of sweat and blood that made us able to be here right now. Look at her body, covered in a
shroud that is a perpetual "night" gown. It may be a mammy or it may have a grimaced face
unlatching itself from the iron mask that was melded onto it - onto to hers. Mine often talked
about death and it was hard to listen to her as everyone else dismissed it saying she was senile
even though they lived in the building she bought so they never had to worry about rent. Her old
age and “senility” is more in accordance with a condition of neglect as her building symbolizes
her in its decomposition and its tenants mark a generation too privileged to keep up the dreams
that came from the stings of Jim Crow and the scars of slavery. Rethink your bruised
masculinities because we are not under the terror that they were and so “victimization” in the
simple sense we have for it was not the same as theirs. We are too implicated in the world and in
our places to not feel bound. We are responsible now. I hope that I can see her again without
being afraid but joyful when I catch the clenched corner of her mouth, in a smirk, her big
mammy lips being the comfortable pocket for the eyeball that she holds between her teeth.
Whereas once I was afraid to look at that mouth now I know that she has gone through much
trouble to block that vacuum that could've pulled my "development" into it. People...... ask her if
she's a mammy and she will blink her mouth to expose the zebra's history, in regards to the lion
when she was both - as a chimera. Ask her if she's grand and she will say that her sex is hidden
between the mattress and boxspring - the numerous coins ( gold and platinum ) proof of another
hidden history which yet again she chooses to hide. She often told me ( Damn tries to replicate
her voice distorted as he does it in a high volume ) " I worked for a long time - years and years -
and used to be able to tell all the white patients to shut up and stop talking whenever I so desired
quiet - often just wanting to hear my footsteps moving in patterns onto the hospital floor". "This
is what she said to me as a young man and I'm sure you men heard similar stories right"? The
men thunderously agreed." Now tell me men that most of you know where you came from as far
as knowing who your mothers , fathers , uncles , sisters and brothers be". "We know who they
are " a cluster of men gloriously shouted "and we love them right"? "yeah" is what the whole
crowd yelled back as the man looked around to get their approval. "Well then tell me what you
would do if you found out you were not the creation of your mother or father but was in fact born
of a completely horrific origin one which was an inexplicable, unnatural birthing too? The men
fell low and silent abruptly and were waiting on the ends of Damn's every last statements now. "
For you see I was a child possessed when I was first born out of my mother's womb but then I
died and was preserved to be delivered again. And you ask yourselves how could you have died
and been delivered again its silly right? " "Are you trying to say you're half retarded" one man
shouted out echoing amplified. "No I'm alluding to my blessedness brother and if you let me
finish I'll tell you .........when I came out my mother seconds after I started talking... I gave my
mother instructions on how to abort me and then redeliver me again you see. The only rational
explanation I can give myself is that it comes from my grandmother and she is the person that
told me all of this..... she said that in the time between my mother getting pregnant with me........
she caught a disease transmitted through blood called A.D's. AIDS MOMMY DID MUCH
THAT AIDS COULD DO FOR A BABY. Damn went on to further illustrate : "Making me
unable to be born without being infected - this could not happen as my grandmother prophesized
and so instead my sister on my father's side was called to task to bring me into the world pure,
her name was Delia but we called her Exes for short. So I was incubated as a dead but living
fetus and cut into pieces for my sister to eat thus mysteriously becoming pregnant with me again
somehow. Unfortunately, my sister had to die in this process as she had her life sacrificed too in
order that when I was old enough I could eat her in a reverse fashion. It was "promised" however
that she would be reborn just like I was after that day we would carry on within each other as one
died and ate the another" - a promise of immortality we were granted. Somewhere in here she is
waiting for her form that was promised her in those seconds when I am to die - a body which I
hope to see long enough before I am to wait again for my own" Damn rubs his belly and then his
upper body all over. "This happened and I was born, mute and mishapened. Damn looked down
at his feet feeling extreme doubt in these recollections of his grandmother definitly looking now
like worried image in Lincoln he admired yet he was too young to know how important he would
be for him later on in his career at his inauguration. This recital being just a prep for that day. He
kept on going in his story to the men stringing ideas to fragments of conversations he
remembered having with his granny.“Yes I know my friends this sounds frightening, no as matter
of fact it sounds funny cause I see many faces laughing and those who aren't ought to...go on
laugh...laugh..laugh..laugh "... but I am an educated man and well aware of the excesses of our
fantasies from those weird folk tales some of you guys remembering and remembering now it’s
futility . I hold off on my certainty though as it was my elders who through myth built great
nations that the Greeks learned from to establish these so called sciences I was taught in school.
Why can’t their stories be enough friends? Why not when we have many things to gain from
them? He heard whispering and a man saying to another in his ear " Any nigga crazy…. let alone
crazy enough to think he can be president deserves it"...The anonymous recipient man gave him
a bewildered look and asked him, "deserves what"? The frequency of uncertain pauses kept
increasing and Damn was losing attention quickly hearing the original cacophony of the men
increase as they started bickering. He tried to speak above it connecting to his last idea and said
“can’t they hold truths” seeing many heads diverted he stood away from the microphone by the
podium looking upward in a diagonal direction under his breath saying….”no but I see it must be
the giggle factor that makes me have to prove them or to make them..ha, ha yes indeed yes
indeed I’ll show you” the latter statement muttered louder quietly to himself but high enough in
volume for some to hear. Damn was becoming empowered as he went on in his oratory feeling
confused in his honesty though. "My friends I am in training for something very special and
without sounding any crazier than how you’d like to see me I'll tell you that although being one
of you I am predestined as it was told to me by my granny. I am here to save you out of this
misery you call living. Proof evident in not one of you even being able to recall your
grandmothers - let alone her stories - let alone how she is great and how great she made you
because of it." Uproar began to overtake the large crowd and Damn shouted realizing how
antagonistic he was becoming."Wait"!
The men originally started off the meeting gesturing with their hands and bodies, imitating
cliches of the intellectual in thought with his/her hand on chin, talking in between poising there
cigarettes for that exact moment from which they are to take drags but now they went into
another stereotype. They were cool black men with their arms crossed and then suddenly
disturbed was this when they looked surprised in a " I'm caught" bboy position - fingers spread,
arms locked as if to imitate someone about to cartwheel or someone who wants to be seen in
distance like "here I am , I'm a clear shot". This was a “so what” moment enacted by the day to
make them praise it by being opened for the violence that was about to happen – that they
guarded themselves against for too long with their upper class black snobbery and cruel
intentions. Some people far in the back of the room yelled "no".....to hell with... Damn !..he’s a
liar... this followed by a tumult of "yeahs" and “fraud” as approval boomeranged around the
crowd back to the place he was thrust. Faces looked at the announcer of the bold man with the
insults and in a move as if they had been swayed by the intent of the man created chaos for the
thing they expected his zealous eyes to do. As if they switched their eyes to a new tyrant in a
group. Damn ducking behind the podium he thought he was in the midst of the assasination he
suspected (was projected psychically by Granny ) because he heard "er body get low". Then all
of a sudden with a heaviness of conscience he felt the "yeahs" strike down like blizzard hail and
felt himself wince his eyes. Clenched tight they were awaiting the whip of a man who
rubberized his "fraud" words for the wrong reasons lashing him from a distant place in from the
back of the amphitheater. A black albino man emerged running down an aisle from where he had
come at the center of the forum and took out a shiny weapon from his peacoat and then called
out “traitor” while he lowered his weapon positioning his gun to unleash. Damn crossed his arms
against his person and braced himself for the shots but dropped them as he blacked out feeling
limp but relieved. It was better that he did this anyway cause the x he was making over his chest
was a good way for the assassin to have a better target. Physically Damn was still there just on
the cusp of oblivion as the assassination was taking place. It was on the 18th of September as the
man years ago prophezised when he was in art school on vacation, drawing in the park. He
hadn’t thought to take the man serious recounting numerous people throughout he time in NY
who had told him crazy things but now was different. It felt like now he had to remember as
much as he could to have assurance and because he had a family to get back to. The man in the
park when his fingers were dirtied by black charcoal randomly chose him to he was quickly
recounting to himself. “He touched my forehead and said he was an angel and said on Sep….I’d
be……rich……. and he was laying on the ground in the middle of a bridge with a smile on his
face as he thought back. Not knowing how he got there, over the water, thinking that he should
be bleeding by now from having gotten shot and not enjoying himself and not laughing about
either as his face changed and he thought “ what about Aliyah , Zaire and Essence”…..”I gotta
get back”….. Twenty something years having been shed from his form he was looking into the
cosmos in the innocent frame that melded with the time from which he met that angel – he was
in a rapture. The toxins would act as a vehicle for his soul to transform returning from whence
and where it originated. He knew from this point on he would be in constant exile. He felt a
deadly follower behind all the miracles he performed from that point on. Having not the ability
to leave the earth yet instead he would have to graduate onto it in another dimension. Having the
gift of anticipation and intuition it couldn’t help him from getting killed. Maybe these were the
“riches” the angel was talking about and was awaiting his sister to emerge from his stomach but
kept waiting drawing out the moment of its anti climax more and more. He didn’t know it but he
had more lives and deaths to go through before she would be reborn again as his daughter/sister.
When he was on the bridge looking into the face of God his father, he felt the same emotion and
overwhelming sense – joyful, sorrowful and carthartic except he released no tears from his eyes
submitting to the ecstasy of a greater force: the joy and the power within the terror of his
sacrifice allowing his self to be consumed. Damn is taken back to his assassination now and the
falcon flies with his spirit back to the past to be rejoined to his moment. Fingers clutching old
dollar bills tight he put them to his mouth waiting for them to marinate inside so he
inhaled........... It was raining in many parts of America on Election day, especially in the South
which was not by coincidence. It was unseasonably warm where he was and sunny too. HAPPY
INHERITANCE DAY!!!......... He wandered off from the scene feeling lost and experimented to
see if he was a ghost. He then got on his knees to put his hands together. Then his falcon came to
lay beside him as a pterodactyl now transformed and he went inside its opened mouth knowing
the animal now but having faith to go inside.

A Children's Chorus by Children in the Southern Fields :


We all wanna go to the heavens and swim like a dolphin in the sea/ But there might be a
level of heaven that already lives in me/Cause my president be/ A lil'closer when he's black
like me/ I'm happy to see/ Can't wait until he take me outta the sea/ Of this misery/ Take
me to the sun in In-Fin-Nity/ I don't care if he's shootin pink ponies from his Behind/On my
knees, I'll be knee high, I'll be happy to be/ As long as he's being closer to me/ And not like
you/ He could raise me in the rays of the Yellow and take us in-to a different day/ Right
outta of the Blues/ To be a different fellow, I dont think we could Lose............Now My
Hair's a Little Yellow/ I depart from the Devil/ Go on in the feeling of
NEW...............NUBIAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

HEIL NETH
The story of Neth starts in 2008, in a corridor - the short vein that leads into the dance floor, then
to the bathroom and finally out the door of the club into the second " in between " space of the
whole building - the mezzanine control room for abducting Boys. Ki-Il had practically lived in
this building since he was a teen and it resembled a pit more than anything else. You could see
how on every floor above it the shadows would get caught in small corners like mice with just
their heads or tails stuck on glue traps. Each one contained a very visibly animated arch at its tip
- as if they were wiggling - to make you believe that wherever they were they didn't want to be
there. The shadows would merge and elongate themselves at odd places as if to appear like they
had outstretched arms that were reaching to connect to a long family with a similar melancholy
- down in the dark pit. Inside The Club was hot and hazy with music blaring, Ki -Il had decided
to exit the scene to check on his friend who was manning the Abduction Room. It was an area
that teleported the Boys up to The Building Ontop Of Darkness where all the Albino Houses
gathered in. It was a huge absesss growth formed on the new Earth exterior, ¼ the size of the
world’s circumference it sat on. After the 8th day sun, the mountain beginning on New York had
formed into a volcano and progressed in size however angling out in a rectangle eventually it
became hollow inside. Its magma cooling over time, it merged with the gigantic cave as if it too
was aligned with the future. Its lava, its ashes and its dust solidified building up layers for the
foundation of a building, it became, the earth relinquishing its will to be manipulated with the
Albino goals. The Albinos would build their city in it. As time passed after the 8th day the
building would erect far out the atmosphere into deep space where if seen from a satellite the
planet would look like an exclamation mark or a ball stabbed to have a handle. Coupled with the
8th day emerging and the powers of advanced technology that Matt’s operating the White
Gardens allowed them, the building would be its own megatropolis, with its own zones and
architectures inside. As if it was mall-like with labyrynths of awkward interiors it also had
different transportation systems. Being a world inside a world it had landscapes that housed other
buildings and “work zones” for Boys who were Albino “revolution applicants” taking up much
of the earth’s surface. For the feudal – like government that the Albinos set into motion after they
took control over the world as prophesized, they’re had not been a king. Instead it was more
bureaucratic establishing a network of councils where “houses” could vie for control over
regions with BOTOD, Neth and Neth the latters being civilizations that operated around and
below the main building being in BOTOD. Neth lay in the lowest tier of BOTOD deep into the
earth surface in the cavity where the original mountainous volcano arose from. Through
generations this pit had been reformatted with the help of The White Garden and the 8th day by
Albinos and revolved Boys, to be a shelter for all premature life that had’nt evolved yet or who
were waiting to enter in the bargain that would have them transformed. This was where on the
bringing about of the 8th day all life arose out of who restart the charred earth they anticipated in
1984 and beyond and so everyone felt highly invested in modernizing this primitive feature of
there now new technological society. “ Applicants” in this pool were the last recipient of the
“groundhog” pills they were given in 1984 cycling from their old selves onto full and Albino or
modified “Vitiligos”. Most Boys had not gone through the phase yet not having that many years
for which have there colors change from pale to rainbows and other multicolored spotting. This
so foreign though for where Ki-Il had been, which was a portion of space in BOTOD, in this
place that was legislated for play, it was mandated that every male Albino must serve at least one
day's duty in the Abduction Centers at every club as part of its legislation.The Albinos were
constantly trying to push their civilization forward so certain areas in BOTOD were regulated as
“Experiment Zones for Boys to test new revolution techniques as it would serve both them and
Albinos - since the Boys were transforming only waiting to revolve onto Albino status. Therefore
certain areas being neglected in BOTOD over others this was darker, danky region since its uses
were for experimentation and for Boy uses to have fun in after work. In the dancehall that was a
club Albinos were in charge of opening up points in space making "slits in the environment" so
that another Albino could receive the Boys in other Houses in The Building Ontop Of Darkness
these being portals and doors into other Houses whenever an Albino commanded.. Author
wonders: are the flies reincarnated, demon terrorists or guardians sent to protect and guide
him because they follow him around - must smoke more cigarettes to keep them at bay
either way.
The slits would open the air exposing a slivered picture of the rooms on BOTOD that the Boys
would be swallowed and snatched into. Often a Boy would find his friend who he came there
with ( The Club ) sucked into the dark air and an Albino's hands grasping on to kidnap him.
Usually the Boys would comply but sometimes they would resist and the automatic doors in the
black air would violently close amputating whichever body part that wasn't on the Albino's Neth
dimension. Sometimes they would be so bold as to just show up undisguised to claim whoever,
whatever partygoer they wanted for all kinds of torture they performed in The Building Ontop Of
Darkness. Sometimes plainly in sight right there in the club or on the street they would stage
there "games". Usually these Albinos belonged to a rogue House that garnered fucked up
philosophies about the Boys anyway. It was illegal for them to do this too because it screwed up
all the other Albino's legal abductions waiting for a Boy in the BOTOD. After seeing a rogue
Albino in their Clubs, all the Boys would flee which meant it was a ruined night of "gaming" for
the Al's. All the Albinos didn't engage in the Abductions though, usually it being the liberalist
Houses that objected - some taking it up as a political issue even in the city of Neth. These
Houses hired Albino bouncers to protect against rogue Albinos when they bypassed the etiquette
of a lawful abduction - crashing the parties in stealth as they were in person by themselves. The
common law of Neth forbid such unruly behavior on the ground in the city of New Neth because
it caused drama in the Union of Houses. Talks about possible secessions emerged and
conspiratorial factions formed to urge potential for independent Albino nations. Most of the "Al"
houses weren’t having that shit though so they squished all the bullshit as much as they could
before it could even start getting cereus. The laws were how they instituted protective measures.
JUST SEEN A REAL NIGGA PIZZAFACE WITH FLESH EATING VIRUS WRITTEN
ALL OVER IT!!!!!! EEEWWW!!! Author: " dragon’s breath, charring what’s left of your
extras in your hole. You are a YOUNG RIDER but you should still think about not
smoking" black ink said to me. I just killed one of those flys with Windex and felt bad
about it afterwards. Though I wonder if I should because maybe their pestulence and there
buzzing is just them asking to be killed so there lives could be reincarnated again in a
better form. Maybe I'm a fly's spirit when it was fly in Africa. Go there and I’ll say The
Truth like Dante or St. Augustine.

A Rap:

And to dem kids of the homeless system/


I know where you live/ that’s called Nowhere
You on trains or the ground
Lookin at the wrappers/
You don’t have no care - bout the garbage
no fair/
Wit cha patches and rips
You was made the same as a Sourly Patched Kid/
KKKKKKK KID, KID, KID, KID
Wit no crib
It’s a crypt
Wit no Crib, Crib, Crib, Crib
Jus, Jus, Jus, Just, Just, Justice
Can’t be found
Where he lived/
Live, Live, Live, Live
Up
Up
Up
Up
to be Down/
In this town
It ain’t his
It was here but he got removed from under its lid/
Un,Un,Un
Under his lid
So he speak in the glyphs/
Cuz he just slid
inta a a a ah,ah,ah,ah
cra –zy
Psy –cho –log –i-cal bid/
Its his bed
All to amend to his 5th
Right/
That he pleading to use
That si- o- lence like its
Light/
Its just for a few that I’m giving my gift to and his head too/
From the wood of my Neck,Neck,Neck,Neck
Down to my Dick/
He the kid that was givin his life to be raw
Even though
Dat, Dat,Dat,Dat, Dat Nigga was poor
In his holy plight/
He always fighting to live out the hole of the Police sight
But they constituting a fib
He repeating the sounds to Clash wit its laws/
Using the dead voice like it came from his pores/
Or the core of Teddy, Teddy, Teddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Deady
Rusk-bin/
Out the bin,bin,bin,bin, bin, bin, bin/
swimming from his gills like a dolphin/
On his in-door fins
From his Jaws if he take a chill pill
he ain’t gon cure the world
Of of the clause
That Fucks men
HEIL

Tonight for all the Boys who earned extra time on their "reaquistion credit cards" they used them
to buy time for recreation to dance and celebrate in spaces they thought were hidden and
clandestine. However unbeknowest to them the Albinos were able to track each new location to
infiltrate - setting up rooms and equipment to do abductions invisibly. Some Albinos coming
from liberal Houses defied the apartheid setup and went there to dance enjoying the company of
the Boys who for some they were friends with or employers of. They always felt guilty for an
abduction gone wrong if the "slit in environment" didn't close in time for a Boys full body to be
contained. The massacres on the dancefloor in the midst of people dancing and a good song
playing were always horrendous for the mood and the atmosphere of the parties even though the
Boys were disappearing anyway. It was harder to watch when it was seen and heard, with
remnants left behind like a Boy's hand, or leg or whole torso. It was like" fuck, he just got that
body too didn't he"? " I heard they don't feel it cause they just get recycled anyway" said Ki - IL's
friend manning the "Ab" room. "Thats what they tell you to make it easier to work here" Ki- Il
responded back with a tinge of insight. " I gotta go though, cuz I just remembered I have to
rendezvous with Boy 24 tomorrow for his arraignments". Ki- Il left that dense space of horrible
fun and exited onto the street - the music of Burial's "Archangel" coming on, trailing him and
then the soundtrack of another abduction gone wrong. He peeped behind him to see through the
door that was closing to catch a glimpse of a Boy struggling with his friend - trying to pull him
from his leg out of a "slit". Just as the Club's door closed Ki- Il seen that Boy get the air's
automatic door's solidity - to slice the Boy's leg as it was seen fragmented in mid-air and then it
fell straight to the ground - the music cushioning the sound of its collapse. The leg looking as if it
was being birthed six feet in the black air but severs it, making it just an aborted fetus of a baby
in a leg and so the toes are the mouth that screams - then its mute. A delay occurred within the
party then commotion, the helper of the other Boy (leg alivedead Boy) wails frightened then he
vanishes into the party's black void air himself. Once spotlighted the panic stricken Boys ( Boys
are girls and boys too ) crowd to flood in the streets with invisible Albinos lying poised like
snakes there to pick them off and then carry them into the holes of the nights "slitty" air. Ki - Il
walks calmly to the horizon uptown - the green light bulb from the train station transform
reflecting yellow to let him know he has ideas.
Walking inside the train station an older Boy who was on "homeless service" for an Albino
House asks him if he if he needs a swipe in exchange for a dollar, the Boy being very irratic as if
he was holding a conspiracy. Then the Boys wife being a Boy ( woman ) too says to Ki - Il "
there was a cat that gave birth in there and the rats were trying to eat the kittens so watch out
cause they were albinos and the cats was Boyish". On the train his mind talks aloud for him, him
"hmming" to answer it:
"People with nothing better....Elsie commission me to do a leather jacket with a sick coat of
arms"......."Nothing but the night and trying to be 24". "If 24 earns enough reaquistion points to
get a new name I hope he doesn't pick John Henry". "John Henry is such a strong masculine
name, I wonder if they would let him use it if its not Germanic"...."Don't think about him your
wasting your time" he thought. "Yor.Yorica.Eureka. Shareka should be the name for 24's sister if
he should have one.. No Exes sounds better! Fuck it if I have to I'll fuck his mother when I birth
her just so his next generation won't have to be Boys" he thought defiantly. Are they letting us do
that yet though" he ran down his list of New Neth laws. "Damn if not .......I'll just have to do it so
they'll have no choice but to make it legal - my family's powerful enough right"? Sitting on the L
train with his Apod jotting these new ideas down, he came to the realization that he might be
getting very attached or unattached to the Boys as he knows them. For his best friend, Boy 24
was one of them, part of the Boys but part of Ki -Il because they managed to get tight in years
"24" worked for him. Author: Mommy comes home and says "guess who's speaking at your
school tonight, Angela Davis"! I said, "why would she want to speak at such a wretched place"?
"Anyway thats not my school anymore...I ain't in school" - author.
"Fuckin hard to look at other Albinos in the face" Ki -Il thought as a new thought came to mind.
" The more you ignore me the closer I am" remembering a chorus from a song taken from Club,
couldn't get it outta his mind. "No one even can spare to leave there drinks abandoned anymore
for a friendly abduction too worried about getting abducted themselves I guess looking down on
the old black train’s floor imaging conversation that the bugs and rats might be having before
squashing them both: “These god - forsaken spirits in bugs and their treacherous antennae
twitching”. MENTAL AUTHOR DISLIKES. “The thor-ax's/ bitching”. “Roach amended to
rats whiskers - he must've snickered when he snitches in his rat before reinlife, spirit - the rat's
stomach giving him stiches as it heals HIMSELF RAT being pulled on zippers of train tracks,
the roach react to rat's mouth by washing off each armleglegarmHead before its deady”. “Image
it would like to be: serenly being in shower as Dove Soap commercial, suds drip like cream in
motion over cream skin it slimes on , slides on , absorbs into with water - Buts its dirtier as a
naked girl in Dove Soap commercial "careful not to show the titties"...." Oh shit there the
aurelo.... Holler , move over I want some of dat ill nana"! "Not so mean with the words Mr they
hurt ( a little one ) I wish you had if u tryna be touchy feely". " Dads is fatter and it splatters cold
on my thigh" as his foot easly wiped the fluid off his soles heal he looked at his cell reading a
message from his girlfriend. “Why the hell that bitch gotta be saying shit to me like that all the
time, too much information Ki- Il thought to himself cancelling her off his Friends list on his
BinoSpace in his transportable Apod device. Author has : Puns for punishing words with a
skeleton on his shirt like he’s a Marvel character. THATS ALL NIGGAS CARE ABOUT
ANYWAY THAT MAKES YOU GOOD = Skeletons, Character and A Shirt. "FUCK THE
AUTHOR"S HURT". Then Ki- IL's attention was diverted accidently looking out of the object
inside his reading crouch to see an ad on the train that read : Rape - The Original Instant
Message . He thought it looked appealing so he might switch services now for his Apod. In glass
on Ki - Il's Apod there was the reflection of that particular cart’s narrative. In pictures it read : L
train : Private Practice, ABC Wednesday, Pushing Daisies, ABC Wednesday, Dekalb Ave,
Jefferson St, Morgan, Montrose St, Grand St, Graham Ave, Lorimer St, Bedford Ave, 1 Ave
( manhattan ), 3 ave , 14 st Union Square, DIRTY SEXY MONEY, ABC Wednesday, Pushing
Daisies, (L) Morgan Ave, Do Not Lean on Doors, Please NO Smoking, littering, NO Music,
Assaulting Emergency Instructions. 8597, 2, 28,26, 88 etc.

1. John Henry told the captain,


"Captain, captain, gimme my time!
I can make mo' money on the A.C. and L.
Than I can on the Georgia Line."
2. John Henry told the captain,
"Captain, when you go to town,
Bring me back a ten-pound hammer,
I's gonna knock this mountain down."
3. John Henry had a little woman,
Just as pretty as she could be;
They's just one objection I's got to her:
She want every man she see.
4. John Henry asked his little woman,
"Where you get those clothes and shoes so fine?"
"Oh, I got the clothes from a railroad man
And the shoes from a man in the minds."

A second chain gang version was captured by Johnson himself during a visit to the Columbia, S.C., area.
Johnson notes that the workers were in a fifteen feet deep ditch, hobbled with chains and knee-deep in
muddy water. He said they sang only one stanza although they evidently knew others. He attributes their
parsimony of song to their dismal working conditions and the fact that their regular song leader, a prisoner
named Britt, had escaped two days before, leaving them disorganized when it came to their singing. Their
stanza:
John Henry said to his Captain,
"A man ain't nothin' but a man,
And before I'll let your steam drill beat me down,

Die with the hammer in my hand,


Die with the hammer in my hand." A third variation was submitted by Edward Douglas,
whose address was given as the Ohio State Penitentiary. Douglas said his version was based on interviews
with "a number of Old-Timers of this Penitentiary."

JOHN HENRY
1. When John Henry was a little boy,
Sitting upon his father's knee,
His father said, "Look here, my boy,
You must be a steel driving man like me,
You must be a steel driving man like me."
2. John Henry went upon the mountain,
Just to drive himself some steel.
The rocks was so tall and John Henry so small,
He said lay down hammer and squeal,
He said lay down hammer and squeal.
3. John Henry had a little wife,
And the dress she wore was red;
The last thing before he died,
He said, "Be true to me when I'm dead,
Oh, be true to me when I'm dead."
4. John Henry's wife ask him for fifteen cents,
And he said he didn't have but a dime,
Said, "If you wait till the rising sun goes down,
I'll borrow it from the man in the mine,
I'll borrow it from the man in the mind."
5. John Henry started on the right-hand side,
And the steam drill started on the left.
He said, "Before I'd let that steam drill beat me down,
I'd hammer my fool self to death,
Oh, I'd hammer my fool self to death."
6. The steam drill started at half past six,
John Henry started the same time.
John Henry stuck bottom at half past eight,
And the steam drill didn't bottom till nine,
Oh, the steam drill didn't bottom till nine.
7. John Henry said to his captain,
"A man, he ain't nothing but a man,
Before I'd let that steam drill beat me down,
Oh, I'd die with the hammer in my hand."
8. John Henry said to his shaker,
"Shaker, why don't you sing just a few more rounds?
And before the setting sun goes down,
You're gonna hear this hammer of mine sound,
You're gonna hear this hammer of mine sound."
9. John Henry hammered on the mountain,
He hammered till half past three,
He said, "This big Bend Tunnel on the C. & O. road
Is going to be the death of me,
Lord! Is going to be the death of me.!"
10. John Henry had a little baby boy,
You could hold him in the palm of your hand.
The last words before he died,
"Son, you must be a steel driving man,
Son, you must be a steel driving man."
11. John Henry had a little woman,
And the dress she wore was red,
She went down the railroad track and never came back,
Said she was going where John Henry fell dead,
Said she was going where John Henry fell dead.
12. John Henry hammering on the mountain
As the whistle blew for half past two,
The last word I heard him say,
"Captain, I've hammered my insides in two,

Lord, I've hammered my insides in two."


Artist: Jimi Hendrix Guitar Tabs
Song: National Anthem Tabs
Please note! This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the song. You may only use this file for private study,
scholarship, or research.

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REPEATS TO REPEAT. REPEALS. RETRIEVAL. RENEWED.

Boy 24 recites a poem sitting at the top of a volcano in Neth after it erupted in the
underworld under the Bloody red Atlantis (NETH BOTOD). Under the building he was
writing on his tablet :

Dem Boys ain't Anti-Semitic they just Anti and Sympathic/Symptomatic/


Cause dem boys struggle aint neahva given no Credit/
So they ride tryna not to be ripped on Anesthetics/ Fuck the Neos and the Liberals always
tryna treat them Pathetic/ hiding wit a Non -Ethic then check it next to Albino
Marxist/Somethin like A Farse It Is/ thats a just Educated Aesthetics/Its NOT ME, its you
THAT KEEPS US SEPARATED/ wit cha Socially LAWFUL Cosmetics and COSBY/ they
all SOBERLY Medicated/ Some wanna bleed em with a knife that’s serated/ Fuck they
Moses/ a Mental Desert but I strive for Oasis/I’m quite high rated/ wit 88 / gotta make your
Hate in a 4 and 08 did just bore/ My time to TALK/ the pregnancy is my mental holocaust/
but I just came on the Face of my Own Mind's Hor/ In the ink I am birthing my race to
Pivot me Secret in the real that it chase/ Abort it from Lips/ Shitty like a Child, came from
the Behinds Door/ I’ma ghetto case/ Now its Do Doo Killah Giving WU's FROM MY WAR/
coming from my JAWS in CORE/My hungry stomach/ make me movement in haste/ So I
Don’t / Rock Wit Wops I make the Heads Roll/ They Police My Streets Put Sticks in he
Asshole/ I'm Romantic in the Tails I Told then Sold/ Not No Homo but I do get my dick
suck by a bro/X the Zeros off in Murder on da Map when I play TICK TACK TOE
whether it’s the shit or the splack/Fight Back/ Pop a Cop/ Tic Toc I'm counting the Clock
when the shit will Fold/ And yes a nigga can be a lil Al-bino just like me / I had to get Ali up
from a gingerboy to a New Neth G/ Yup but I am also a theif just like thee/ They Never Not
Gonna Steal Everything My Heart Turned To Gold Now I’m soiled from being Buried Up/
But not my feet/Arose from defeat to be a King/ My brain Tucked in my cuff/ cough sickly/
will be Everlasting/My history is fasting/ Burned documents that we Created/ I was never
asking as if it’s not lasting/But in the schools they r not in Flux/ BARAK - A they wanna be
callin him RACIST/ KEEP US IN A STASIS/ So we Fucked Up/For Technology U Need
MORE BUCKS/ COMPUTERS IS SACRED/ Wow, these Albinos must be racist and its
upon me to turn them vanquished/ They made a Plural World So Everything Appropriately
Appropriated including the words on the edge of my teeth/Golly the things that my fangs
did/ Thats Probably/ The Genocide disguised to STEAL everything a Culture Can’t BUY !/
But they Neuter Everything We Fought For/ NOT FOR US, BUY US/ Scavenge r wreckage
LIKE VULTURES/ Encoded Higher Intelligence got from dem gun Paupers/ like
Grandfather of Invisible Man Told JAH/ You gotta be a Spy and a Soldier/ In a Land NOT
URZ/ They will swoller you Whole Food/ Ur not Fool/ matter fact Uber Person/ cause I
shoot to the sun in Superman Position/Silhouette in da Moon look like the SHAPE OF A
Gun so I Heil to HitLosers/ And RoadRun past these Cartoons /Boys calling themselves
DONE/ I’m a Zombie wit Brains in a Cooler "Dude"/Just like you/ but if you Son you
shouldn't be Afraid to go to War with the Roman's Folly/ No Sir MASSA, NOT SORRY/
Aint had no Purpose NOW I found HE/ HORRIBLE OUR STORY/ If you got a Problem
Then Fuck D cause who is thee?/ Cursed is he like Caliban Man in Kings Speech/ Like Sun
Ra sneaks/ somefin in the Black Space and you're Too Darkly Light to Find Me/ So I Teach
In Professions not Confessions You Can't Decode/Never tryna be Hoed so Bitch Wheres
MY MONEY You HO/ cause Fuck It I Gotta Pay FO this ASS thats Yours/SO -CALLED
FAG you got me as, LOCKED UP, dressed in "I'm a MAN" drag/ Next Time you Say
Hello Dont Say "Yo" - SAY "HEIL SON"! ABOUT THE BUDS in da 40's SO I BRAG/
HIDDEN IS WHAT THEY HAD/ I’m extreme so maybe I will not last/ Be assassinated
right before I gasp/ Hip Hop Hurray, Ho, Hey, Ho...................NO MORE BLUEST IDLE
WATERS, I'm PAST THOSE SHORES and YOU OUGHTA BE TOO. ITS OVER ITS
DONE.... DUN.... NIGGA PLAY TAG WIT THE MOON............AND THE SON.........

At this time of day in the night the New Neth trains that went to Neth took forever - once they
ended in there routes. Ki- Il waited at 8th ave for thirty minutes until it departed downtown going
back to its beginning far from where he lived. Even though Neth had all terrain within him for
his "House" having a stronghold in the "Neth Union of Boys Incorporated by Albinos" which
was a city -based company in charge of distributing fair and lawful labor practices within the city
for Boys. NUBIA was the acronym spelled out in full. Because of this he easily had a job as a
"real estate agent" and he wondered " I wonder if I should take over Bushwick to rep it in The
House of Coopers" he thought to himself. His House ( family ) of black albinos owned many
other regions making him able to live all over - he decided to sleep on this side past the New
Neth region. Too awoken by relics of party, unneccessarily exhilirated by some abductions and
the noise he witnessed there, he decided Bushwick would be more soothing for sleep. " The more
you ignore me the closer I am". The train turns on exhaust, revs to chu, chu, chu, into the tunnel.
Falling asleep before he anticipated when he doubled over on his arms, folded as a pillow for his
head on his knees. The Apod loosened out his hand’s grip and dangled from the noose slip he put
on his wrist for precaution against losing. Riding on the train this way with his head dipped into
his lap the train jerked making his blond wig ( sacrificed rebirth - marked Boy hair ) fall off. Not
knowing it however his Albino hair was exposed. Exposed were its thin, orangey red and black
looking - multi-colored decaying peach scalp, as the hair had those colors littered all over it. The
hair was very thin - being almost transparent you could see the black scars and blisters
underleath, too thin the folicles were to even look like they wanted to live. They were already
dead anyway looking like a ball of knotty corn husks or hay turned into thread still coarse
enough to stand on end though. Quite Phil Spectory, jewwy , scientific-icky looking it was - so
they used the hair that grew naturally from the Boys to hide this - not being very proud of this
Albino feature but proud of others. They had ambivalence but violence too before they had the
former. Meanwhile in the Building OnTop of Darkness there was a Baby Huey type Albino in a
room consistent with the sterility of an interrogation room. This one had silver going along the
bottom sides on every wall and had a purple strip on top of the silver also streaming the sides of
every one of the 4 walls. The Albino had on a body suit that looked like a costume to mock how
the Boys dressed when they had to work. This one was very tight- fitting though like a wrestler’s
body suit because the big baby Albino like to tear his clothes off and see his reflection in the
reflective silver in the room. The Albino starts whining and then screams to himself and to the
Boy in the room shivering " BLOOD AND GUTS, BLOOD AND GUTS, BLOOD AND GUTS"
then proceeds to take his hand and dip it in a bucket to pull out gizzardy looking process parts
and guts before they turn to liquid being as they came from the Boys who evaporated easily. The
room had a drainage source in the middle of it to marry itself to the design of a bathroom. As the
body parts were instantly turning to bloody fluid, the Baby Huey hastened hisself to get on with
it. Now he just says " I WANT THE GUTS, I WANT THE GUTS, I WANT THE GUTS and so
he grabs the shivering Boy in the corner, seeming so big as if to be a giant he picked the geeky
Boy up and turned him horizontal smashing his head like a firefighter using a log to bust in a
burning house. He then dropped the about - to - be lobotomied Boy where his feet were and took
his brain matter in his fingers like a praying mantis and started playing with them. Giving
himself enough time before the parts turned back to liquid he took shit from his rear area which
was puffed anyway as if the baby had a diaper on. Using the brains and then the Boy's intestine
tubes he clogs it with the shit from his diaper, drawing happy faces on the wall, speaking with
them and making them speak back then squishing them at their ends to simulate a talking mouth.
He did this gently enough, though as if he were holding his own penis head. All the while with
the Boy's gaping holes and gaping mouth being wide open for view by the lightbulb in the upper
region. The Albino pauses his gleeful moment to look at the body that is obviously dead. The
Albino shakes the Boy's body but it then loses its form being just a cascade of blood and then
nothing in the baby's hands as the blood drains down the holes in the middle of the room then
recomposes to red vapors in the pipe system. With only the intestines he holds in his two fingers
( which were waiting to be blood ), he looks into the tubes opening as if trying to see down a
small tunnel and then whines and makes pleas saying " I THOUGHT YOU LOVE ME, I
THOIDT LOVE ME, I THOIDT YOU LUHVVVVVV.........AWWW...AWWW...AWWWWWW.
Getting up from sitting down - with the single intestine tube in his hand he smears the lips he
thought it had on the silver chrome, making it hard for the blood to catch and absorb into - being
too slick. He had some creative eyes through his costume of infantility to make one think that he
liked to play with Ketchup figures who could run fast him being Mayonaise of course. Even
though he was getting killed the Boy was part of the "Sickest Niggas Doing it Bet That Baby"
crew in Neth. Still this muthafucka had a wet crack though wit Do - Do, enjoying the shit too
using it like it was an instrument or sumfin. Very purposefully meaningful, he looked like he was
trying to put out a cigarette butt that remained lit so he dragged it along the reflective surface,
along each wall to punish it more, the line of blood being the aftermath that made another
dividing line in the space. Quietly the silver realized itself in its abjectness and was silent but
penetrating -foiled around the room like aluminum and the pink tubes disappear like water out
the hands of big baby that tried to hold it. When everything is done the baby boy looks at the
lightbulb and smiles like he knows he has a naked treasure - a secret the light wants. He bursts in
laughter as he withholds.

"Dye your head on your sun,


In Blond in Bleach
On the Beach"

Everything was red being in the blood from which they ( Boys ) originate. It was only visible by
the red gas seen constricting around the planet but inside the gas was their Atlantis and the
Albinos "reservoir". It was an atmosphere above and below the urban desert oasis of Neth and
New Neth. Being transported ( abducted ) to the ground in the urban desert of Neth and then
sometimes to New Neth for they came in body form for the Albino's uses as liguid or as vapors.
NOW I'M ECSTATIC NOISE AGAIN: Remember to remix Kenny G samples for the album.

A Chorus from Boy 24 to be Reinterpreted/Remixed:


(either section to be repeated however many times)
I'm gettin it up, getting it up
When I'm giddying up, giddying up
Just to be gettin it up to be giddying up, giddying up
On the course when the H is my Horse
On the Horse, Ride off Course
And its white mang/
We be doing this like a White Man/
I will rap on the Strength of my White Train/
If its da Pontiac I will probably put it in my right Vein/
I dont get attached cause I'ma Black Vi – King/
Getting attacked on the sex of dat VY- Co- Tin/ or dat Codeine/ Heroin give me wings, I am
bright on my Hair It seems/
That Give me Light Brain/
Make me Feel like I'm less In – sane/
And to me you are Less in –Same/
From that strike 'em down like the bitch in The Hurricane/
I Got Cause
Provoke a NUKA, like they not Like Me/ Put a shot through the Brova to smutha the
Struggle
The God smacks him
If he tryna be Thor
Let em unthaw
Make em Fall with His own Lightning/

Chorus ( in a opera voice ):

NIGG-A-RO! , NIGG-A-RO!, NIGGGG-AAAA-ROOOoooo! (repeats)


That NIG- GOT- DOUGH, NIG- GOT- DOUGH, NIG- GOT- DOUGH, NIG - GOT-
DOUGH THATTTT (repeats)
That NIG - GOT- COKE, NIG- GOT- COKE, NIG- GOT- COKE THATTT (repeats)
That NIG- GOT- DOPE, NIG- GOT- DOPE- NIG- GOT- DOPE THATTT
That NIG –GOT-HOLES, NIG-GOT-HOLES, NIG- GOT- HOLES THATTT
Cant CATCH HIM WHEN HE ROLLS, AND HE ROLL, AND HE ROLLS,AND
HE GOT ROWED IN THE BOATS,IN THE BOATS,IN THE BOATS,IN THE BOATS
AND HIS WARS IN HIS BOOTS, IN HIS BOOTS, IN HIS BOOTS, IN BOOTS
NOW HES THAT HERO,HERO, HERO HERO HERO HERO HERO
THEY LIKE THAT GINGER BOY LIKE HES THAT;
NERO NERO NERO NERO
HE HAD TO DIE TO COME BACK TO LIFE WHEN HE WAS
ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO
HE ROSE WITH THE CAKE TO MAKE
HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO
NOW HE IS
YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW
HELL UPON THEM WHO MAKE AND CREATE
THE HELL
THEM SELL HIS SWEETNESS IN
BEFORE IT BAKED
IN HIS
EGYPT AND ITS CLAY
HE RAN RAN RAN RAN RAN SHIT
FROM THEN
TO THIS DAY
SO HOORAY
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“The Earth has natural resources hidden in it with sounds they can be unlocked”
-scientist from an Exxon commercial

With sounds He can be unlocked to lock


– psychoegyptianaryanboy -

Outside in the wasteland of Neth aircrafts disguised as pterodactyls ram into a mountain that
housed the Boys camouflaged for the primitive zone. As there shelters below the sea level
became exposed when the mountain arose out the red waters to avoid the attacks like an ancient
saintly, martyr it stumbled and then fell and all the innards started collapsing. A vapor of gas
( Boy 24 ) turns into a drop of blood to be the Miss America that leads the parading vision like a
slug quite sluggish in traversing and the pundits are the leaders as he slides on and off the rubble
and materials that got hybridized in the crashes of the architecture. Out of the wasteland and
falling from off the hard surface of this bleak, Tetra, pterodactyl concrete back of the
asphalt's spine - MADE THE TOY TOPS ON AXIS SPINNY. SPIN CITY FUCK as
a raindrop is the main character being pulled by a leash from its owner beholden to gravity now
as liguid- to show you shit. It falls off the edge of the world that is Neth and past some black
galaxies onto an opposite lower tier in the reservoir of blood the Boys never recollect to know
about but reside in before they metamorph. Right above the calm red waters "that nigga" Boy 24
was contemplating on the volcano's jewish, devil, horn, titty in da' head like I said before tip
flickering between his states of evolution as gas, a blood drop and an amphibian not getting the
vitiligo stage yet on this journey. Imagine coastin on the coasts and he is the Little Mermaid
brownish reddened, hazy and ephemeral - all faggedly artistic and intellectually faggy washing
himself with the oceans blood or gas - ain't so little though- never bothers to run it through
fingers to filter soap sludge. Imagine walking through a once inhabit sultry ghetto with august
heats , so so deft x scapes and you escape into Jodecious longing from bass that gave buildings
Down Syndrome..doiy, doiy, doiy.. With the stoops as solid drool the black galaxies in space
hang from them on to THEM as black liguid metaMORFUCKSIZECOLOR to red - a clayface
remnant of life left behind the footsteps. Caves abrasiveness nags on the trek of this bitty drop
nitty then it sees the light of day type-shit on a cliff in the turbines opening, Columbine serenity
coast period blood baby (cum shot back out of the vagina) -its Volkish, primitive singularity, in a
drip drop looked out on the Red sea from off the plateau of Serenghettis like a cheetah alert.
Then it bent over in fall of sucider then suicides a pig latin name spelled Sufer in Another
Country. Suicide again as it leaps by its head off the bridge to Pulverization Nation. No fall down
logic for the blood nigga in liguid just gravity only. In the fall it looked back to its wonderous
elevation in reverse ( back against the ground in mid air ). It seen the architecture of its hood
better like a mechanic can make one unneccessary looking opposite into their skies in metal to
see what lay under the exo skeleton skinz - ONLY LOVE FOR THE SUPERENGINE FIRE:
LOOK LIKE TEN THOUSAND INDIAN FEATHERS NESTED TOGETHER IF I
HEWAS ON ACID. NOT PASSING YET? LETS CHANGE THAT : VIOLENCE
INSIDE A NAPKIN CLUTTERED WITH CLUNK AND CUM, HOW COME NIGGAS
DONT STUNK ENOUGH? WHY DONT YOU STRING YOUR NORTH
LEATHERFACES ON TELEPHONE WIRE INSTEAD OF YOUR SNEAKERS. THEY
WILL BE THE NEW LYNCH VICTIMS TURNED ALIVE BY A DISNEY ANIMATOR
IN A MOVIE. THEY SPEAK TO THEMSELVES FROM HIGH OVER THE
FLOODWATERS LIKE MANGLED CROWS IN DUMBO WHERE FRANCIS BACON
COULD HELP DO ART DIRECTION CAUSE HE CAN BE QUITE YUPPIE
SOMETIMES! Boy 24 is in a population of rain dropping onto the ground which is the growth
of reign on the hood. In the Black Atlantis of blood (gas) he finally falls to its sea, then sees
the mermaid men of Jodeci/Raekwon rebels in jumper suits with Guess tags on em. Clad in all
types of clothing to handle there own voices and microscopic chemicals they exude to protect
them from there own blood (gas). SO THICK. They and there's mermaid breath bounces from
the sun and forms black sweat that again drips from there slavemates on the ground to hang mid
-air in S - curls. Then swivel lines eminate from these ground Boys so they are truly luminent
and exclamatory. The pock marks on the concrete embedded into sidewalks is juice nailed all the
way down to there heads and get far beyond there earth's crust, bolting back down, back into the
red sea of blood or gas vapors. Seen are these SS soldiers lanquishing on beaches and cliffs by
the ocean's shore like out of work actors in West Village cafes. The drop of blood ( Boy 24 )
returns to these fish inhabitants who are his family in the Atlantis of there own blood -many
niggas nestled in there bloody atoms of gas that merge in one gigantic pool as a community or
even a family in BLOOD. Gaining ground again on the volcanos edge he looks over the surface
of this sea. FROM DARKNESS VIA RAH. BRAH. HIS BLACK NOISE IGNITE
MAGMA. LAVA STONE GOT MEPHISTOPHELES which must have ME. ALLAHssss.
At last he sees over the mountain and inside the blood to be the B before LACK and
CAUSE. Black because of this….Egyptian NaZI. Pain married in BLISS. LISTS IN OUR
BEAUTIFUL APOCALYPSE:
A star is born in the name 24, nurtured in these and other rhythms as Run Man feet pounce and
derelicted he pronounced "Can't Catch Me", he learned from an early age that its insane to not
have sneakers ( boots = Neth'n - + My Niggas we chillin' Running this shit , Killing bitches wit
our shoes on like OJ Simpson inside this White Bronco Beast I'm bout to rise, somethin beautiful
like a flour got yeast and if I have to I will shoot a dude,to get my own peace thats power to
everlast past this burning hour -then I'm dun out the oven to get sour dough to say me alil bit
louder though). That told him that on there earth if he ran fast enough that he would not have
features - at least seen by these other creatures. He could bypass pain by always being in a rush.
His bio could be crushed inside different tempos and all that was solid would melt into the air -
he's not even there. He's already been sucked and torn limb from limb by churning vortexes of
the Albinos manufactured Hurricanes to bring him from his unknown Atlantis to there surface to
be there laborer. For now he was at leisure inside another building (volcano) under the sea (gas).
The Albinos had renamed the city Neth after they came being the sister name of the place they
inhabitted called New Neth (escaped to). However many nicknames came to proliferate as
usually happens in response to suspected tyranny. Boy 24 renamed his "work zone" New Africa
and New Africa was holy from iron, inside of sweat, inside a reservoir crevace of fist skin - a ball
of fight. He was one of many who had been subjected to The Gingerbread Boy Industries which
was the globalized system responsible for ressurrecting all lost life back onto Neth from the
underground (blood pool), (gas chambers) as labor for Albino causes. As needed they were
always in transit from the sea onto the surface and back again. The Albinos system of pipes drew
them up like men raising their arms as birds of prey descending onto prayer. In one swift
movement accomplising many they sucked the night into their jacket sleeves. The Albino's
"Boy" access cards were these life magnets. VACUUM CLEANER PIPES PIPING ON
LIGHT FOR THE ALL NIGHT NIGGAS.
PSYCHOEGYPTIANARYANNAZIBOY.BOYNAZIARYANEGYPTIANPSYCHO

When Jesus was Young he look into the Rome then Roamed
like WOE
Then he got shot through the hand and the Hand said
WOE
Then he made himself in Another NewMan like
WHOA
He did all of this for his Roman Brotha Man
What fo' ?
I dont even Know cause they cause Woe.
And made Blood Flow

Whoa! :

The Gingerbread Boy Industries was the globalized system responsible for regulating
all "reevolution" applicants back into the world in New Neth as labor to help build the soon to
be megatropolis and imagined planet the Albinos envisioned 100yrs ago. There metamorpohosis
from being amphibious inside blood to have a revolved body and form after they were teleported
onto New Neth was controlled and manipulated by the Gingerbread Industries as it kept track of
applicants credit, their designated worksites and how much time ( credit ) they had before being
REINCARNATED.
fully revolved from the vitiligo stage to full fledged Albino. be
INDUSTRIAL NIGGA COMPLEXES MAKE IT
COMPLEX TO BE A PROJECT SUBDUED IN
NEGATION -SUBJECTIFIED. THEY USE
INDUSTRIAL OBJECTS LIKE LANGUAGE(S)
MAGNIFIED AND THEN MAGMAFIED, AMPLIFIED
INTO VIO outLETS CAUSE THER COLORS IS
VIOLENT AND SO THEse NIGGAHS ARE
AMPLIFIED 8 TIMES IN DEATH TO BE VAPORS ONCE BLOOD AND IF
THEY CHOSE = A BODY. Not on some Matrix shit it was humanitarianly liberal enough to give
people the choice of having life if they wanted it of course having to accord with The Industry so
they could be "readopted" again. If not then they could exist inside the blood in there habitates
under the city of Neth - inside the unseen ocean until they felt they wanted "life credit" . Life
credit could be worked for in order to access further evolution programs. When the Albinos
"purified" the earth they were mesmerized by peoples of color so they decided to allow them to
be there counterparts albeit as workers, to help stabilize and make successful there vision of a
new planet as newly altered beings -cohabitation eventually after being separate. New Neth is the
first major city and Neth is the periphery area by which the Boys live in when they are working
and have there bodies - a sub city of subteraneous freedoms. As of now this is the founding
civilization almost completely suited to the biologies of its inhabitants -accommodating Albinos
and Boys respectively. The creation of The Gingerbread Boy Industries was part of this evolution
being linked to The White Gardens Matt help to found in 1908 through his 'expedition". Now
working through White Gardens the Industry was a technological system incorporating the Boys
into "reincarnation status" after they were massacred in the Albinos apocalypse. Selective about
the blood that would be saved and whos, the Albinos stored reservoirs of a chosen body of
people so that the blood could go through a similar evolution that they did to possess a similar
essence. Everything is in its beginning stages however having not yet acheived a fully integrated
society between the Boys and Albinos. New heavens were mapped and materialized first
beginning in the Arctic and then in spaces under the decimated landscape of New York after the
Albinos inflicted its Apocalypse. Everyone who survived was somehow linked to the project of
The White Gardens to eventually evolve onto "Albino" status if they weren't already. Everything
albino was saved and cherished until The White Garden inside them would flourish when they
were to acheive the full realization of the newly evolved supreme humanity. Being a slow
process starting in 1908 it took generations to reach its opus but finally it did. In the aftermath
the "Boy" were created and stayed black to die forever in red but had Post Death without even
knowing they died - on the green earth that wasn't green. Mostly concretized it was gray and
chrome colored with certain areas being luminent as the Albinos replicated ancient civilizations
and married its architecture with the ruin landscape of old New York. The inhabitants wore
colors as well to contrast the drearyness of ghetto regions on Neth and New Neth. Magnetic
colors and hybrid fashions taken from Egyptians, African , Nubians and other colored peoples
cultures dating back to before Christ. Not very piercing and garish they instead were very regal
and primeval having affinities for flowing textiles, odd shapes and patterns geometrically
oriented to display there mysticisms and relatonship to nature - or what they thought was natural.
They looked as if they wanted some kind of attachment to the urban environment to reflect its
light the way the metallic structures and stone buildings did. Being of the landscape but not from
it and being from the landscape but not of it is how they relayed there aesthetic. They were not
people of light but people of "there light" so they manifested these theories accordingly and
looked cosmic because of it. Still they managed to find uses with culture's clothing they left
behind when they destroyed them. They looked like all types of energy - electrically primordially
pharonic. looking

Matyrdom arises it seems on the occassion when one is forced to challenge a myth through
embodiment to challenge the "law". Your meager weapons against our laws are just as powerful
- as they possess conviction, passion and above all spirit.- to purify oneself as a sacrifice in a
strike against it to appropiate it. When the accussor asks the accused through so few words to
justify himself he is asking something specific but hinged are questions deeply mysterious,
sinister and compelling. Something way more closer to absence - to the death of acknowledging
guilt in order to be rid of it if he/she is...interminably, infinitely ...guilty….. If not guilty of this
crime aren't you guilty of one far more profound and far more moving? Aren't you devastated?
These confessions speak more not to crime but to our lust for unacheivable power as a hero and
villain simultaneteous to be outside of rules. A lust for humanness at its rawest to be beyond the
rape that narrative inflicts through myth - beyond the universality that story provides for a body
so that it could never be sublime, unspeakable,silent,awesome and paradoxically dead. To be
unevidenced, unproven, unlawful and strong in the only thing that seems perceivable as true - TO
BE MASTER FULL DEVASTATION. DE-VI-STATIONS. Maybe not so Dull

Divinations. Even the anti - hero is a hero.

(((((((((((((((They talkin about nuclear war))))))))))))))))))))))


(((((((((((((It’s a motherfucker, don’t you know))))))))))))
((((If they push that button, your ass must go))))))))
((((((They blast you so high in the sky)))))))))))
(((((((You’ll kiss your ass goodbye))))))))))
((((((((Radiation, mutation))))))))))))))
( Hydrogen bombs, atomic bombs )
What you do without your ass?

Sun Ra “Nuclear War”


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at4865t5827qto78ct48o475tb7888888888888888q54t279999999998227
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bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb251cb78t7

The Nig Inside Bacon


Francis Bacon and Death
Amelia Earhart
Finding the Day in Exes

Easy Eye/
Shes Easy on the I/
For Ginger Guy/
Take one step forward
Peel the White Gardens Off The Mind - that Flourish/
On the Ladies Hate nexted one over then I’m falling from the Nine/
Skirmish/ then gain Balance when I Ride on my Mania's Demise/
Must Pay Fees for Talents/
And I Seen my Third Eye's Violence out My First/
Birth my Death All The Way To My Curse.

Pleasure me in jibberish - licks.


Me upon u (slick) and my crescent of bone ( calcium ) - then teeth.
One on One Fight Nights - suck on my Night and
leave your angel (dust) of ecstacy on the tip tops of waves –your stardust
gulping water for air.
Audistic in my Love for you.
Me You Like Soon in You Me under sun
Crushed in Rays.
Hang in "Says"
When we were young I thought the Best Girl’s sound
Was the one who said
“Anyways”.

SWV: I Get So Weak In the Knees I Can Hardly Speak


I Lose All Control and Somethin Takes Over Me..........
Knocks Me Right OFF OF MY FEET
Cant Explain Why Ya Lovin Makes Me Weak.............

SWV”WEAK IN THE
KNEES”

90's culture of concealment - big clothes , contact lenses. Millenium culture of containment.
Everything - Still Cold Gold Teeth Though. Millenarian Egyptian Aryan Nazi - Psycho Killer -
Throwbacks....
All the men dreamed about Finding Exes without knowing it. All in de ja vu that hadnt happened
yet they prophesized on the unseen. Ki- Il through wanting to give Boy 24 a sister to end the
Albino/Boy apartheid. Damn in his death wish after breakfast time on Election Night/Day after
being elected to imagine being a matyr, bring up his daughter/sister somewhere in his body she
hides. Then Matt prospects, checks for the woman in a fistful of snow he grabbed from the
ground because he is cold and wondering " what the fuck, why...so much white ground on the
sky in the Artic". "I'm cold will I ever depart this" he sighs as he chokes from the dirty smoke
arising from the fire in his shelter. He was wondering if what Damn told him years earlier on the
bench had been a lie along with his reason for being in Arctic where only him and his Esquismo
friends remained but even they were dying off too. In the igloo he rests on the lap of his
Esquismo lover as she petted his head filled with desperation. None of the signs of the White
Garden Project were coming to prove anything and he and his wife were on the brink of
starvation until the device called out to him in a computerized voice and gave him directions to
go to a special point by which he would be given further instructions. He grapped his lover, his
dogs wrangling them on his sled and followed in the way by which he was told by The White
Garden machine. “Come on guys”. But somewhere in the inside Exes in another region was
walking - sublime.
Walking with skin in her mouth torn she was using her tongue to find the wound to sweep the
dead skin off created by something hard and jagged she ate. She was left with an unseen remnant
that every now and then she ran her tongue over to feel and taste - the small pink strip salty like
bacon - licking her blood she tasted. Scars inside her mouthcave, stalagmite saliva might solidify
to preserve her viciously raving, vampire predator, spirit inside. But she wasn't a vampire at least
except better when she kept her mouth closed not opening it to let out mmmm’s or the former
name she had. So she did and stayed silent for most of it - the wreckage, the seen - the lips
pregnant inflated wit "come". Her tools are bleach, detergent, Ajax, Vix, chemicals you couldn't
fuck wit without "proper gear" but she wore her HAZMAT suit in a
AUNT JEMIMA COSTUME revamped by Margiela(Y?). It was vintage and she found it on a
fence when she was walking. It was a better vintage dress than the ones she wore before and
went well with her black leather heels and her hair that was tri – colored in two thick braids
fastened with a silver buckle. She realized when she found this outfit how much she liked to
wear black with a touch of color on her hair her sassiness was accentuated more in a way that
was sophisticatedly urban yet earthy too. The clothes did something to her sexuality that the old
ones couldn’t provide. One of those being, among many, was that she just got more sexier which
if nothing else was part of what she wanted. On better Halloween infinities she was Carmen
Jones. (Cut to those scenes of West Village nights with Brazilian haircuts on URBAN
OUTFITTER CRITTERS make these gremlins VACATE ! Che Guevara cancer - flesh eating
virus - NEW Jay Z is a good background sound for NEW CLEAR REVOLUTIONS. There's a
door person for entrance into fall-out shelters asking "are you on the list" ). She was stammering
stuttered like she was the image reflected in God's eyes as it was blinking her reality to serve her
time ReDEFINED - Refracted and Fragmented in a broken VCR that played her bootleg movie
on VHS and her silhouette in the audience was part of it as she walked out the theatre trying to
be real. SADLY SALLY IS EXES WHEN SHE CONSTITUTES DESTINY THROUGH A
PATRIOTIC FUCK and vice versa. " Filming Green Pastures Nigga" on Monticello "Are you
gon be an Extra"? "You could make some bucks" said a portion of the conversation over the
score.
Being in some zone on the other side of time the air had seizures consecutively delayed. Epilepsy
her air was a leper so she had her own incubator that she couldn't escapeand so she should’ve
sucked the glass wall as it was to make a vent ." And you on some Matrix shit" made
sense caught up in her nexus of Ammonia TOXICITY. In this artificial tunnel (she was in) with
screens speaking and needing Windex, a scene of grotes/guilty seen as she passes when the man
seems to catcall. The cyber-tronic Dominican man with no voicebox says from a tubular device "
NADING WIL EBER BE DE ZAME AGANG". She passes this monitor and individual ones
with individual faces in them - large enough that take up most of the screen like typical art
videos - all bombarding simultaneously. There was no more than 20 of these monitors and none
of the big heads ranged in skin color not too white to look Puerto Rican or Black. Like some kind
of Greek chorus of Power Ranger puddies they sound off to question her space in the theatre's
cruelty:
"You think you're better than us". "I don’t wanna be cause I was born into this"." I...didn’t make
it and without a doubt yes". Another one went "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes... I AM..... HE as
S/Himself". Another seemed to answer that with "I didnt voice this.. just whisper no and you will
needlessly feel humilated" The last puddy in the black tunnel said" DEM HITS I eat those, Hate
Its , Hate Its, stop it mommy please” . The tunnel ended wit these motherfuckers going crazy by
themselves in there jails of art scenes they seemed to be in the Arkeim Asylum of - psychotic on
their own religious theories even about psychosis too.
Finally she left the tunnel coming onto a road, then roaming it in a rural town. As she walked the
numerous trees along each side of the road flattened into artificial wood panels. Colliding
horizontally like domino rows being cornrowed as they were turning over, oscillating in 360's,
fitting edge to edge braided to be her 2d skies to get as high as the trees got. A set was being
built as fast as she could walk with her steps cued to every step she made. Then another aisle
though with the debris on each side - just like in the tunnel this was more Tarantino - Lynchian
- Khlrorine. It had all kind of cool propaganda ads to inaugurate the first coming of her
brother/father to get her in a good and modern spirit - a post, post, then Ghost Modern, in Eternal
Maternity she disappeared. Gutter punks seen scurrying around but some are narcs that infiltrate
knowledge temples ( street programs for kids ) and so they pretend to scurry harder - to look like
rats. Splinters for the teenage mutant vintage, ( military clothed ) ninjas - they pretend to have 80
year old wisdom albeit in young costumes. Came from debauchery and a botilized can of
"supplies" ( maybe a can of worms with worms inside - inside ). When she comes back on the
scene the streets had black scales which were those punks as asphalt to absorb heat from hell.
She walked careful to stay away from the motherfuckers who ain't chill when she seen the spit
inside there mouthes coagulating like pests in a tar pit agonizing about soon to be death.
Another aisle again. “Damn”! she said. She noticed her rhythm as she walked the stairs feeling
that a misplaced step would throw her off balance and she would trip over a miscalculated edghe
on the, taking off from the jolt of her mistake, this time self conscience. The she tought abot the
edge in trying to do what she did over again. In deference it tripped into a glide through other
interiors if a person were to desire stumbling but all evgvctdes reliant on a border67ir 5f6r67i
She desired gliding as she stumbled shuffled and steamrolled or/ and panted her way
rthrough.This one mirroring her destitution of an institution in a virgin state with American ads
of pubescent girls writhing elastically in bleak apartments, their colors are muted to barely be
visible as separate from the couches and beds they lay on. They looked so plush and cottony
filled and the girls don't have piercings because obviously they would pierce holes that would rip
them, then all there soft innards would slowly seep out - "They don't break when you bend em".
A piece of wood inserted would easily juxtapose bones in the bodies at least - as Bosch symbols.
But anemia and anorexia is written in the cold vomit mucus overcast of dullness - appearing to
look as if large swathes of 50 x 50ft pieces, scotch tape had been stuck onto the whole scene
- like looking through bulletproof glass, the visible filtered through plastic screens. I LOVE SAY
SCREENS, I LUH SAY SCREAMS - "SCREAM SCREENS". America's Cream Team.
CONFESSIONAL: MEAN MEANY BUT MINI : MEAN FIST that MEANS: MAYBE NOT
THIS: "YES IT IS WE CAN BE: HOPE: THATS OK THEN. The clouds are electrified and
mapped for HOLOGRAPHY to be her images in five frames animated in hot pink and magnetic
blues. Her satelitte was tuned to this and made her look up in the air every now and then to the
Toykyonic sky of blurbs in herz...Its slimey how the cut wires seep out live electric currents that
looked nappy like split ends in Japanese or white person's dreads - then they got a perm to be
more fluidity. Two of her braids erect to be like antennaes hearing high volumes of Infinity music
because her brain was a radio too. Acid House Techno, DubStep, Noise and Drone - then an
overlay over the instrumentals of a woman saying : " I woke up at 8:00 on the dot today.... it was
Superbowl Sunday. I broke down yesterday in the living room..I did crack too yesterday before
going to work..the man said " you're in good hands talking about Roy the Man I did crack with...I
was the protege"... Over the music measured if visible on lines , bars or soundwaves she was
metaphorical : HORIZONTAL SLUG GRINDING ITS BODY THROUGH KINETIC
ENERGY. "It sounded as if she was reading from a diary" Exes thought to herself looking up
into the sky fooling herself by thinking she would see the person in the voice there. Then
another broken dreadlock wire spoke from the rubber conduit dripping its lightning from above
being a broken ad ( must've been a radio's freguency currents in a static wave but then statis) as
it made statements through its damage. THE ARTIST IN EXES WANDERS cause it said "this is
JIST TiTiFIED and just us baby on the Wi-I-Fight your lovely zeitgeist bliss" ( last confess from
a missionary sound) said to bless from the broken visual. Exes served us way too much to
experience patronage from a server just like her. The way of gliding was as if one of her
persomns inits were there own breaths othered, and so they desireto hurdle them even theres!
Manufacturing distance in competiton inhaling time. If air is unknown, exterior to its
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FIRE WATER AIR CURSE ElecTRONs in Light , Sund Image Particlesd jkfgGGODD GOD
GoD God gOd DFoG DgOggOhggdGGOgOd Desire to hurdleher disability desire to
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ABRASIVE NESS CUT HISTORY
LEAVING WOUNDS ON REAL
BODY FUCK A LANGUAGE FUCK
THIS LINE ARTHE BLACKNESSS
I”L:L FINFD IN MEShe used to have a Somalian stomach
inside the stomach consistent with starvation from being too generous. She hid it with her apron
and a badass girdle with a dress over it. She went into a Chinese internet cafe replopped, to be
foreign in foreign but familar landscape. The landscape began to speak to her through a professor
she was watching on Youtube: "some time could originate on a wonderous gray day beginning
when you contemplate desperate beginnings in the practice of walks. Beginning maybe when
you get angry but you must remain smitten to the ivory of the once fertile endless ( it seemed
living here and not knowing it because of here (black hair) and ( Exo bone exterior ). You must
go to find it because you have to collect - it is more like a love needing to goosehunt, needing to
maintain the playful wonder, danger, mystery, the boundless.." BEFORE STRANGULATION
TO TWO ENSUE AND SPAC E IS MEASUERED BY LOST BREATH “Damn I’m LOST she
SAiD.IMGY"Please dont capture me" she thought to the professor. He looked at her directly now
in a frontal position taking his act away from the class he was professing to and then said to her
in her face "No I won't (capture you) but now you contain so much lawlessness so I can't bite my
fingernails anymore when we used to make love cause you won't let me". " When you came
earlier from off that road did you know you were a silver orb with only your privates protruding
from it and half your head"? "No" she responded back to the computer screen. " Well you were
and I asked you to be lude and hug me only then to whisper to you "do that thing" and then you
tore me to shreds with your razor tentacles". "You were a shiny beautiful machine like those
Chris Cunningham videos I showed you and transformed the way I liked you toIMAGINING
NOT EVEN THAT NO
THEMSELVES l STEALTHY AS AQUADIC
CANNED BNOT BE HEL D IN A SURFACE THAT IS
NOT WHITE AND HERSook like those drawings we seen when I took you to that Wangechi
Mutu show ... I knew you had it in you to morph like that to make me feel really good when
you slaughtered me". "Of course I put myself back together baby being an indestructible machine
too". She said " yeah I know but its all so hard to recall.....I do remember you asking me to recite
those famous quotes though whilst I was hacking you and recombining". " I like your bones
underneath though its better for my feeling when I slice your steel structure and it makes me go
harder when I see you restructure your body parts right after, to see them reconnect". "But
thats mainly what I remember about the whole scenario Prof" as she continued on sounding
frustrated". "Yeah, but I do remember distinctly, having to restyle you when you came to my
door holding that banana cowboy hat looking like somekind of lesbian stripper from the West
Village". "We had to shop around that day after the movie we made". Tell me why you aways get
into some deep shit and then bring everything back to sex though Teach why do you do that"? is
what Exes asked the simulacra cyborg next. She didn't wait for the response just went on to say "
the french people do not love me anymore maybe because I am played out for them but they are
really played out themselves too and now I have to settle on withering Aryan machines like
you... fuck I wish I never went down that road"! "Too late now" the face in the computer jeered
back. In the background the class was yelling "U.S.A.,U.S.A., U.S.A., U.S.A." as an army for the
professor so he could end the conversation. "Ima hafta take a vacation to be inevitable again in a
place like Brazil for Mikes" she ended the chat with, although by then he was pumping his fist in
the air to the sounds of his audience's chant. Politely be in Picture Kern/ You Wait for Turn But
Why Be a Black Blond on Savage/ cause I heard its better when its FIRM oh sorry thats not
NEW YORK CITY LAVISH = LIFE = DO U H+V>LIFE? It was Exes crowded night with the
Chinese Project boys playing video games and the Blacks sleeping in stiff cafeteria chairs after a
strong night of watching porn there. She also seen some young anarchists ducking as they were
coming out the low ceiling bathroom of the cafe with signs in hand and fluid snaking down the
posterboard which could have been saliva or the other stuff. They gave her condescending smiles
as they left paying the attendant for the time they used. Cutting down the street in the opposite
direction of her these nights contradicted flow ( Titian stadium city with Jesus smiting the Jews
as it was A Painting). Even still her work was endless for the starry night and the newspaper
cluttered sidewalks with her images on the back of Voice's with a description and her (phone)
numbers on em. As she exitted the cafe to figure out where she would break night - the Sunn(O)
monk, ghouls playing de basses in shadows following her - she was stopped by a mother on the
street.When she spoke it sounded like the voice she heard about the crack from the wires above
when she was walking. The lady looked
like@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((99
99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999ub
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt78t 777777777i6tgk
uykgyut7i6tyryr56ee4we4y5we4yeeuet is experienced by dodging both. Keeping away from the
ARTIFIAL BREATH. A GALLOP OF THE HEART OVER INVOLUNTARY BEATS TO
MANIPULATE HER OWN IN PURITY ENERGY FIRE ECHIOES WARMINLY OVER THE
SEA OF TIME AN D CHANGED HER ANIMAL SPIRIT WAS MORE THAN JUST
DERANGED IT WAS SICK AND UNNHEALTHY HIVVYV PRIVIYING BEHIND HER
NECESSARY CHANNELS OF BEING GROUND TRANSPORTED IN STUPIDS SPITS SHE
WAS PERFECTLY IT LIGHT SKINNED” D” D LIGHT IN NOT EVEN A GLACIAL SIOUND
WAVE SHE
WAS THE DIRTY IN HER GODS WORD NOT
THERE ABSURD PUNCK PUCK EXISTENTIAL FUCKS
AND CORNY LIBERAL FEMINIST LIBERAL REALLY
RIGHT WINGS WAS GLIDING ON THERE STUYP STOOPS
WHITENESS _ FUCK GOD
DAMN THIS BUT
HER RIGHT NOW CAN I EAT YOUR
ABYSS BABY I’m THE RAPIST NO
FEAR ME LOVE THE CELLULITE ON
YOUR ASS AND YOUR RISKS WRIST. A
gallop of the heart over involuntary breath. To manipulate her own. Own ed This and You on our
SoUND PLANTION WE WERE A SYNTHESIAC NATION AND MANIAC IN NEGATION.
To manipulate their own co- opted in the unknown

TERROR .but quickly morphed into June Tyson

to make Exes question if the crack statements were real. Exes sees this mother holding a baby in
a garbage bag overstanding yellow painted illuminati M arches - got some kind of zeitgeist
tentacles outreaching to IN - Patients, there money having youth programs written all over it.
Exes gives her some canvas she had inside an opening in her orb ( thinking it deserved it
more ) she exchanged it for the baby's place inside the heavy duty plastic garbage bag. She
crawled in and got snug thinking " will my brother finally die yet so I can be born again. Inside
this bag I'll just wait so I can sharpen my teeth to make him easier to eat ". "As a matter of fact
fuck him cause I'd rather be with a Boy who's 24 in 2008" she said to no one as she felt
rebelliously ambitious and psychically grandmothery. "Fuck promises". IF THEY MISSED TO
CONJOIN/ inhaling with the open space and not its symbolic breath in the OTHERS OTHERED
NON SPIRIT BE MORE THEN WILLING TO SACRIFICE PENIS IF YOU USED THE SKIN
AS A PATCH FOR YOUR PIRATE SELF AND OVER YOUR BREASTS WHEN SURFING
ON THE CRESCENT OF HISTORI”S LETTERS AND THE IMAGES THAT YOU
BREATHED FIRE IN TO GTO TURN LIGVBVE ADGAEN AGAIN AGAIN AGAG AAIGN
JMN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN GAFGAGANININ AGHAAAGAIN
NNINOISE YOU ARE NOT BOY BUT BREATH THAT MY LOVEL Y MOTHER IN IN
CEST SHARES WUITH ME AS SHE IS MY BIG ASSED GIRLFRIENIN THE GUTTER I
ILOVE HER MULTICOLORS IN HER HAIR CAUSE MORE THAN THEM I LOVE TO SEE
HER APPROPIATIONS SO BARE AND MINIMAL AND UNPOLITE TO FUCK HER LIGHT
WHE N I AM SOUND SOUND SOUN SOUND SOUNDF AND WORD COMBINED WILL
DIE TOGETHER IN THE LIFE THAT BIND S WITH YOU. If thy missed

She rhymed to herself to gain dominance over the sounds in the processes of the bags intestines:

FUCK U And YOUR TOPICALITY RULES/AND DO FUCK THEY SCHOOLS "TEACH"/ I


WONDER WHO'S REALLY SUPERFICIAL WHEN SHE GOT THE BLONDEST HAIRDO
ON THE BLACK THATS OFFICIAL/ LIKE A HALO/ AND FAR AS ATTITUDE YOU JUST
FISH DUDE/ I AM A BAD BRAIN WHEN I LAY YOU/ON THE PAGE/ HOW A NIGGRESS
DO/ FUCK IS HOW I LOVE and HOW SHE JUST LOVE TO BUST HER RAGE/ BE A LIL
BIGGA FROM THE SNUB'S TRIGGER LYING IN THE DOMEHEAD HERE RIGHT
UNDER DA BRAIDS/ THE DEAD I WILL RAISE TO BE IN SUN"S (RA)YS.............

Inside
Inside...................

Then the falcons seen gliding overhead circling the bag as dawn came. The light muting their
blinking bodies to be a black fly in the distance like a helicopter in the Ghetto against the baby
blue: inside the plastic of the garbage phases to = MORE BLACK MORE BLACK MORE
BLACK THERE SYNTAX WRITTEN IN THE BRAIN'S INK SPLAT ON THE FRONT,
THEY THINK THAT PARAGRAPH PHAROAH FACT TO RELAY THAT KING (blank) ALL
OF THEM STILL WANT - React as React Against but they gotta work more on the Offense and
D................ THAT MEANS MORE PRACTICE< PRACTICE<PRACTICE<PRACTICE + = x
=
AAA <>+= MMM = ?? = V

A Plan:

Build a fort
Rebuild my brick building on edge of Bushwick planet
Pay for Soup
Get money first!
Burn it down
On the other galaxy that I colonize.

Damn found himself on a strange road that he diverted deciding to explore the surrounding
grassy plains and fields of green meadows. It was surrounded with forests and the landscape
looked healthy and sirene compared to the pulse of his heart when it beat faster in the days
leading up to now. He walked miles within this openness of nature that had seemed to invite his
wandering it. Miles and miles and he could see nothing else other than nature and his smallness
within it. Until he came to a farm for which not being surprised, having seen images in the past
of places like this, he thought that he could’ve been in Ireland or Iceland maybe. He asked a man
who was shepherding wild animals if he could rest inside one of his buildings which had been
modest looking but big enough for him not to be of bother to the man who was laboring with his
herd. He asked the man if after resting he could help him find his way because he got lost not
knowing his way back to the road. The man agreed but let him know there were preconditions
that he’d have to abide by if he wanted the man’s comradry. Damn hesitated but agreed only
thinking that his time there would be short and therefore strange that the man was offering
something else. He however slept there and was treated with welcoming arms as the man blessed
him with food and conversation. The next day he was offered a more permanent residence until
he figured out where to go and what to do in the time that lay await him. Working Damn on his
farm was tough and laborious but enduring for Damn who had never been in such an
environment that was so charitable and fruitful in its rewards. Doing any work that the man
asked him around his numerous wooden houses and farms they became friends and his stay was
peaceful. Later the man would show Damn a project apart from his harvesting and toil that
would be another exciting venture for Damn who wanted to take in all that was to learned from
this brief exile away from his worldly duties. He still thought about his family who for sometime
he had been away from but anticipated seeing again especially being able to tell about his visit to
the place he was in hoping the man would come back with him so he could introduce his wife
and his daughters to. He walked with the man many acres away from the farm where he seen a
planetarium- like structure with beautiful vegetation in side. They went inside the glass house,
walking around flowers, ferns and exotic plants with vines and fruits growing from them. Not
bothering to tell Damn about the horticulture the walked through the aisles leading to a basement
door in the floor. Thinking this was odd since he had thought he had known the man, who was
sweet, loving to share information with the Damn about the many techniques and ways of the
activities of his fam they walked silently down the narrow walkway of the greenhouse. The man
lead Damn inside the large basement room taking him to another door on the floor going farther
and farther down. Being deep underground now and Damn awaiting the treasure that the man
was leading him to he waited unquestioningly following the man. They finally reached the last
chamber where the man opened up a bruised, black steel door, opening upon darkness where a
lightbulb was fenced around a black gate giving them a dim yellow orangey spotlight tprovide
edges of their frames by which to see themselves amongst the abyss that was the interior of the
room they where about to enter. Before going into it the man said to Damn “soon there isn’t
going to be any food and these things are gonna come in handy” Then taking Damn further
inside where he turned around to Damn who could not see his leader and whose face was also
drastically shrouded in black, to say “ I’m harvesting groundhogs here for Groundhog’s Day
where he lead Damn by the hand disappearing from the trace of light that followed them in the
path leading up to the last step and the entrance of the door where the man made his secret
known to Damn. Not being afraid he went to follow where the spaces music was coming from
hearing the rustling of wings.

The above version of this story was transcribed from a promotional audiotape that
was distributed by BurgerKing in approximately 1989) AND SOPHOCLES IN
SEERS.

But the wolf was a sly old wolf and he climbed up on the roof to look for a way into the brick
house.
The little pig saw the wolf climb up on the roof and lit a roaring fire in the fireplace and placed
on it a large kettle of water.
When the wolf finally found the hole in the chimney he crawled down and KERSPLASH right
into that kettle of water and that was the end of his troubles with the big badOnce upon a time
there were three little pigs and the time came for them to leave home and seek their fortunes.
When the wolf finally found the hole in the chimney he crawled down and
KERSPLASH right into that kettle of water and that was the end of his troubles with
the big bad wolf.

Before they left, their mother told them " Whatever you do , do it the best that you can because
that's the way to get along in the world. The first little pig built his house out of straw because it
was the easiest thing to do.
The second little pig built his house out of sticks. This was a little bit stronger than a straw house.
The third little pig built his house out of bricks.One night the big bad wolf, who dearly loved to
eat fat little piggies, came along and saw the first little pig in his house of --------He said "Let me
in, Let me in, little pig or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!"
"Not by the hair said the little pig.
But of course the wolf did blow the house in and ate the first little pig.
T "Let me in ,Let me in little pig or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in" "Not by the
hair of my chinny chin chin", said the little pig. But the wolf blew that house in too, and ate the
second little pig. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin" said the pigs.
Well, the wolf huffed and puffed but he could not blow down that brick house.
But the wolf was a sly old wolf and he climbed up on the roof to look for a way into the brick
house.

The wolf then came to the house of bricks.


" Let me in , let me in" cried the wolf
"Or I'll huff and I'll puff till I blow your house in"
"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin" said the pigs. he wolf then came to the house of sticks.

2008 –

Must’ve been our time and my place


When I looked in His Face
He made me turn to create
Their Hate against their Genius
So we are opposite now of those Demons
We never thought the same
God is striking our brains
To be redeeming
the Earth In the Trees
From their Treason
Now it’s commanded for us to be fiendish
The thing that they dish
Now we got to clean it
I’ll ride on an Ajacking solution
Only if its time travel will I care not about pollution
Like an alien and a boy
I was two employed
To get on the bike in the sky’s Pike
Come back to a place that’s nice
LIKE ME IN HIM
HIM IN I
ITS BRIGHT……..
And I’ll clean ya stutter up……
I’ll finish ya last statement cause you might fuck it up
NICE
YES I AM THAT NICE
SO NICE
EVEN yOUR GOD DOES’NT KNOW MY PRICES
YET,
I WENT TO HELL FOR IT
TO YELL FOR HIM
NOW HE GAVE ME THE POWER
TO MAKE HIS DEVILS SUCK ON MY ISIS
I EXPLODED FROM THE SUN
WHEN I GOT SONNED BY OSIRIS
SEE ITS MY BLUOWD/BLACK BEAUTY
IT WONT GLISTEN IN MY EYES
READ THIS AND YOU”LL FEEL IT WHEN YOU FRY
FOR MINE GOT VICTORY AND DEFEAT WHICH THERE IS NO SIZES
ARIES, SO DON’T TREAT ME IN WATERS,
I AM NOT OF YOUR PISCES
RED SON CYCLES IN THE FINAL HOUR
BUT GOD?.....................
WHY DO WE ALWAYS HAVE TO
INHERIT,
ALL THEIR CRISIS– even the air here is pissed?

– Psycho Egyptian Aryan Boy - ---------------------------

I will never bother you


I will never promise to
I will never follow you
I will never bother you

Never speak a word again


I will crawl away for good

I will move away from here


You wont be afraid of fear
No thought was put in to this
I always knew it would come
to this

Things have never been so


swell
I have never failed to feel
Pain [3x]

You Know your Right [3x]

I'm so warm and calm inside


I no longer have to hide
Let�s talk about someone
else
Steaming soup against her
mouth
Nothing really bothers her
She just wants to love herself

I will move away from here


You wont be afraid of fear
No thought was put into this
I always knew to come like
this

Things have never been so


swell
I have never failed to feel
-NIRVANA
-“you know you’re right”
Pain [5x]

You know Your Right [17x]

Pain [1x]

hey
been trying to meet you
hey
must be a devil between us
or whores in my head
whores at my door
whores in my bed
but hey
where
have you
been if you go i will surely die
we're chained

uh said the man to the lady


uh said the lady to the man she adored
and the whores like a choir
go uh all night
and mary ain't you tired of this
uh
is
the
sound
that the mother makes when the baby breaks
we're chained

THE PIXIES
“Hey”

YOU KANT, B ME !!!!88!!!!

P.S.: THIS IS NOT FINISHED DUE TO CONTRAINTS OF SPACE.


1,oooooooooooooooooooooooooooDeaths Left 00000000000000000000000000000000000,1

MONEY=CREDIT..?+= $ ********1,2,3….!!!!!!!!YES!!!!!
LLL

Synesthesia (also spelled synæsthesia or synaesthesia, plural synesthesiae or synaesthesiae)—


from the Ancient Greek σύν (syn), "together," and αἴσθησις (aisthēsis), "sensation" — is a
neurologically based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway
leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.[1][2][3]
People who report such experiences are known as synesthetes.
In one common form of synesthesia, known as grapheme → color synesthesia or color-
graphemic synesthesia, letters or numbers are perceived as inherently colored,[4][5] while in
ordinal linguistic personification, numbers, days of the week and months of the year evoke
personalities.[6][7] In spatial-sequence, or number form synesthesia, numbers, months of the year,
and/or days of the week elicit precise locations in space (for example, 1980 may be "farther
away" than 1990), or may have a (three-dimensional) view of a year as a map (clockwise or
counterclockwise).[8][9][10] Yet another recently identified type, visual motion → sound
synesthesia, involves hearing sounds in response to visual motion and flicker.[11] Over 60 types
of synesthesia have been reported by people,[ and people vary in awareness of their synesthetic
perceptions.[15]
While cross-sensory metaphors (e.g., "loud shirt," "bitter wind" or "prickly laugh") are
sometimes described as "synesthetic," true neurological synesthesia is involuntary. It is
estimated that synesthesia could possibly be as prevalent as 1 in 23 persons across its range of
variants.[16] Synesthesia runs strongly in families, but the precise mode of inheritance has yet to
be ascertained. Synesthesia is also sometimes reported by individuals under the influence of
psychedelic drugs, after a stroke, during a temporal lobe epilepsy seizure, or as a consequence of
blindness or deafness. Synesthesia that arises from such non-genetic events is referred to as
"adventitious synesthesia" to distinguish it from the more common congenital forms of
synesthesia. Adventitious synesthesia involving drugs or stroke (but not blindness or
deapparently only involves sensory linkings such as sound → vision or touch → hearing; there
are few, if any, reported cases involving culture-based, learned sets such as graphemes, lexemes,
days of the week, or months of the year.afness) Although synesthesia was the topic of intensive
scientific investigation in the late 1800s and early 1900s, it was largely abandoned by scientific
research in the mid-20th century, and has only recently been rediscovered by modern
researchers.[17] Psychological research has demonstrated that synesthetic experiences can have
measurable behavioral consequences, while functional neuroimaging studies have identified
differences in patterns of brain activation.[5] Many people with synesthesia use their experiences
to aid in their creative process, and many non-synesthetes have attempted to create works of art
that may capture what it is like to experience synesthesia. Psychologists and neuroscientists
study synesthesia not only for its inherent interest, but also for the insights it may give into
cognitive and perceptual processes that occur in synesthetes and non-synesthetes alike.

Contents
[hide]
• 1 Definitional criteria
• 2 Experiences
• 3 Various forms
○ 3.1 Grapheme → color synesthesia
○ 3.2 Sound → color synesthesia
○ 3.3 Number form synesthesia
○ 3.4 Personification
○ 3.5 Lexical → gustatory synesthesia
• 4 Research history
• 5 Prevalence and genetic basis
• 6 Objective verification
• 7 Possible neural basis
• 8 Associated cognitive traits
• 9 Links with other areas of study
• 10 Artistic investigations
• 11 Literary depictions
• 12 People with synesthesia
• 13 Further reading
• 14 See also
• 15 References
• 16 External links
○ 16.1 Synesthesia associations
○ 16.2 Community sites
○ 16.3 Scientific resources
○ 16.4 Scientific articles on the web
○ 16.5 Popular press

(Rihanna):
You’re gonna be a shining star, in fancy clothes, and fancy car-ars.
And then you’ll see, you’re gonna go far,
Cause everyone knows, just who you are-are.
So live your life, ay ay ay.
Your steady chasing that paper,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
You got no time for no hata’s
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
No telling where it’ll take ya,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
Cause I’m a paper chaser,
Just living my life (Ay!), my life (Oh!), my life (Ay!), my life(Oh!),
just living my life (Ay!), my life (Oh!), my life (Ay!), my life(Oh!),
just living my life
Nevermind what haters say, ignore them ’til they fade away.
Amazing they ungreat for after all the game I gave away.
Safe to say I paved the way, for you cats to get paid today.
You still be wasting days away, nah had I never saved the day.
Consider them my protégé, how much I think they should pay.
Instead of being gracious, they violated and made you wait.
I never been a hater still I love them, yeah I graze the way.
Some say they so yay and no they couldn’t even work on Labor day.
It aint that they black or white, their hands of
area in shades of grey.
I’m West side anyway, even if I left the day it fades away.
Some move away to make a way not move away cause they afraid.

I’ll go back to the hood and all


you ever did was hate away.
I pray for patience but they make me want to face away.
Like I once made them scream, now I could make them plead their
case away.
Been thuggin’ all my life, can’t say I don’t deserve to take a break.
If you ever see me catch a case, and watch my future fade away.
(Rihanna):
You’re gonna be a shining star, in fancy clothes, and fancy car-ars.

And then you’ll see, you’re


gonna go far,
Cause everyone knows, just
who you are-are.
So live your life, ay ay ay.
Your steady chasing that paper,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
You got no time for no hata’s
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
No telling where it’ll take ya,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
Cause I’m a paper chaser,
Just living my life
(T.I.):
the
I’m the opposite of moderate, immaculately polished with
spirit of a hustler and the swagger of a
college kid.
Allergic to the counterfeit, impartial to the
politics.
Articulate but still would grab a nigga by the
collar quick.
Whoever had problems, they reckonsile they just holla ’til.
If that don’t work and just fails, then turn around and follow ’til.
I got love for the game but ay, I’m not in love with all of it.
I do without the fame and the rappers nowadays are comedy.
The hootin’ and the hollerin’, back and forth with the argueing.
Where you from, who you know, what you make and what kind of
car you in.
Seems as though you lost sight of whats important with the positive.
And checks until your bank account, and you’re about poverted.
Your values is a disarrayed, prioritized are horribly.
Unhappy with the riches cause you pis-pone morraly.
Ignoring all prior advice and fore warning.
And we might be full of ourselves all of a sudden, aren’t we?
(Rihanna):

You’re gonna be a shining


star , in fancy clothes, and fancy car-ars.
And then you’ll see, you’re gonna go far,
Cause everyone knows, just who you are-are.
So live your life, ay ay ay.
You steady chasing that paper,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
You got no time for no hata’s
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
No telling where it’ll take ya,
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
Cause I’m a paper chaser,
Just living my life (Ay!), my life (Oh!), my life (Ay!), my life(Oh!),
just living my life (Ay!), my life (Oh!), my life (Ay!), my life(Oh!),
So live your life

- Rihanna and T.I.

– “LIVE YA LIFE”
IN ANARCHY
OF YOURCELVES
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
4.8.84.
****
@( )’S
LOVE
1
R-r-r-r-ring
R-r-r-r-ring

Hey, ring de alarm


Hey, whoa, ring de alarm
And not a sound is dying, whoa
Hey, ring de alarm
And not a sound is dying, whoa
Hey, ring de alarm
Some sound sound like a big drum pan
Listen de sound it a champion
Ram the dance inna any session
Rock up the woman and rock up the man
Ring me alarm
And not a sound is dying, whoa
Hey, ring de alarm
And not a sound is dying, whoa
Hey
Tee tar toe, we beat 'em all in a row
Donkey wan water but dem hol' I'm trough
Tee tar toe we beat 'em all in a row
Dark haas waan water but, hol' im trough
Ring me alarm
Four big sound inna one big land
The don sound a play de other 3 team come
Four big sound inna one big land
De boom sound a play de other 3 team gone
Ring me alarm
Remember this sound it de talk of the down
Talk of the country, hey
Rock Mr. Charlie, rock Ms. Munchy
Talk of the country, so
Ring me alarm and not a sound is dying
I know, I know
Ring me alarm and not a sound is suffering
Whoa, hey
Watch de sound man a tremble
Watch de sound man a pray
Watch de sound man a tremble
Watch de sound man a pray
Ring me alarm and not a sound is dying
I know, I know
Ring me alarm and not a sound is suffering
Whoah, hey
Little of this and little of that
Rock sister Carmen, rock Mr. Rat [unverified]
Rock the white and rock up the black
Sweet reggae music gaan pan de attack yes a
Pan de attack it gaan pan de attack
Sweet reggae music gaan straight non stop
Ring me alarm and not a sound is dying
Whoa, hey
Ring me alarm and not a sound is suffering
Whoa, hey
Some sounds sound like a big drum pan
Listen de sound it a champion
Ram de dance inna any session
Rank the woman and groove up the man
Ring me alarm and not a sound is dying
Whoa, hey
Ring me alarm and not a sound is suffering
Whoa, hey
Beat 'em there an' we beat 'em there
We beat 'em all over dis atmosphere
Champion sound, we jus' don' care
Tenor saw “Ring the Alarm”
s…..O…..i …how da watah walk in the pumpkins bellys?

…………….”grandma I amm young please have sympathy”.

DUE TO CONSTRAINTS OF
SPACE
THIS IS NOT FINISHED. IT CAN’T
BEAT
ANY OF THE ULTIMATES AND ITS
REAL(S). "Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now"
When i was an alien
Cultures were not opinions
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Never met a wise man
If so it's a woman
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Just because you're paranoid
Don't mean they're not after you
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, to find a way, when i'm there
Gotta find a way, a better way, i'd better wait
Gotta find a way, (screams)

-nirvana “Territorial Pissings”