Wow! Long Beards, Rifles & Subtitles

 We live in such a hypocritical society! These Duck Dynasty dudes truly personify American values at their core. People are so quick to get bent out of shape over words depending on who's uttering them. Our outrageously biased  liberal media demonises everyone who is not on board with their widely poplular and publicised belief system. I can be pro-humanity and in opposition of homosexuality. Let me break this down. I love homosexuals and have professional and personal relationships with individuals who subscribe to that way of life. I share those same relationships with individuals who are, abstinate,  promiscuious and others who don't provide me with any information about their sexual preference or exploits. There is a flood of support in favor of Phil Roberston's comments regarding homosexuality and I'm on that same side because those comments are biblically based. I don't support hate no matter how you shade it but I have a right to speak up for my personal and spiritual value system and that doesn't make me intolerant of diversity or a bigot. I also  support Chic-fil-A COO Dan Cathy in that I stand behind God's values over man's preference or acceptance.This is where some  LBGT supporters will stop reading and I'm cool with that.  

On the other hand an American born man who needs subtitles to translate his conversations makes rediculous claims about perceived racial equity and folks are getting pissed off. Go figure. His feelings about blacks truly reveal the pulse of the American education system, political system, and cleary the judicial system from the supreme court all the way down. Honestly the Duck  Dynasty version is probably more humane than what's coming out of the mouths of countless law enforcement officials and it's no different from the whitewashed versions of slavery and the Reconstruction Era that were and are still taught throughout our public school system across the nation.  

Our nation has done a terrible job of documenting historical events with accuracy and integrity and as a result we live in the "Era of Obama".  This is the distorted  belief system where having a president who's DNA and heritage can be traced from causasion roots in Wichita, Kansas to the Blackest roots in  Nyang''oma Kogelo, Kenya creates a supposedly 'Post Racism' society where there is a level playing field, equal opportunity and access to the American Dream. All of these benefits are feasible  if you just pull yourself up with your bootstraps, work hard, earn your way of the employment food ladder of success and life will be grand. Yeah right! That's about as legitimate as calling us, "one nation under God indivisible with LIBERTY and JUSTICE for all." Were are in the age of "Relative Righteousness"...which simply means, "It's right and good if I say it as regardless of the end results and consequences. Morality at rest will stay at rest unless acted on by Diving Forces. 



Just a side note: Isaiah Washington(from Grey's Anatomy) and Tim Hardaway(from the Miami Heat) lost their jobs for comments concerning gays and there was no outcry of support for those men. I guess you have to be a rifle waving white male to have the conservative right wing and Fox News cosign for your comments and use the 1st Amendment to justify it. It's the same story when we watch YouTube clips of police officers using radical slurs and beating the breaks off of unarmed men, women and children. Somehow there's always just cause for it and they are suspended with pay until the media steam cools off then it's back to the obscene normality of our moral deficit. I support the "Post 9/11 Post Patriot Act" Constitutional Rights! Wow! What happened to those?

The Drama of Dealing with Certified DJANGOS!!!!

I went to the coffee shop last Tuesday night not because of technical difficulties with my wifi but because my son and I couldn't hear ourselves think let alone get work done.  After working 11 hours at my job I made it home to the familiar smell of my neighbors low budget bammer weed and ridiculously loud music.  Just as I was welcoming a guest into our home to engage in a very serious conversation, we were distracted by an auditory explosions of BOOM BOOM BOOM! The sound of an obese orangutan attempting to beat through the wall of my apartment created a chorus of chaos.   No, it wasn't L.L. Cool J's Booming System. Honestly, it wasn’t even a good system. It was just a loud annoying blasting of bootleg speakers blaring out the bogus sounds of every wack rapper who currently plays on the radio and internet.

As my ears consumed this menacing melodic meal I began to internally vomit in my mind. I got settled in and prepared to pay my neighbors a visit in hopes that we could engage in some quick community conflict resolution. I managed to contain my inner “Show Nuff”  as I quickly cast out thoughts of jumping into the air and forcefully hitting the ground with their freshly smashed sound system crushed in to tiny little pieces of plastic, metal and wires beneath  my feet. I patiently knocked on the door for about 2 or 3 minutes but they couldn’t hear me because their music was too loud.

Once the door opened a mad faced midget who I'm quite accustomed to seeing greeted me with a, "Wasssup? Is the music loud?" Now I'm thinking to myself "DJANGO! You know good and well that the volume of your music is outrageous and disrespectful.  It's eardrum deafening and it’s too damn loud for 8:30pm on a school night when I have work  to do and my son is busy pretending to study for his final exams." I refrained from giving him the blues and settle for a nice, "I can't hear you! It’s so loud I can’t think” Now it wouldn’t be so bad if this were taking place on a Friday or Saturday night. I would expect that given that I live in the heart of the Infamous 7^th Ward where them hard heads dwell.  Honestly I would expect it in the 3^rd Ward, 9^th Ward, Garden District,  or the Central Business District too but I digress.

I walked away and 10 minutes passed before the music was taken down a notch and when I say a notch I mean that in the literal sense.  I temporarily reflect on how this same young cat stopped me to ask if I would help him find a job because, “Mannnnnnnnnnnnnnn it’s hard out hear and they aint trying to hire nobody.”  Needless to say, I gave him 3 different leads on jobs and he took no initiative to move on any of them. He even had the audacity to ask me if I would go and write down all of the information for him, while he played on his smart phone right in front of me. Ironically this jobless youngster was hosting a disturbing the peace party and breaking noise ordinances that haven’t even been established yet instead of preparing for some employment opportunities but that’s neither here nor there. 

 Back to the present time.  My annoyance went on a date with disgust and together they conceived and eventually gave birth to abhorrence. The strong feelings I was holding were not towards my neighbors themselves.  My emotional angst was focused on their actions of sheer  40oz foolishness,  weed blowing weed buffoonery, time management tomfoolery, and sheer ignorant shenanigans.  At a time in my life I indulged in both illicit practices and the ignorance as well and I make no excuses about it. There difference between my neighbors and me was that I didn’t include innocent bystander s in my stupidity.

   

 I eventually gave it that old college try and went out a 2^nd time to peacefully persuade them to turn the music down. As soon as I opened the door I was greeted by a smiling faced man who said, “Hey is the music too loud?” I replied emphatically, “Yesssssssssssssss! “ And I prematurely thanked him for what I thought he was going to do.  Now this is when ignorance began to reign and it was a melodic monsoon of moronic behavior .  The master of ceremonies or deejay started to strategically play music that mated the voices that were shouting on the other end of the wall, “Man fuck  that shit! This is a birthday party man. Fuck them niggas.”  For the next 20 minutes or so my son, our guest and myself were are graces with a playlist of perversion that basically told of where we could go and what we could do if we didn’t like their loud music. 

Out of fear our guest vacated the premises when she saw the route I was taking. Initially I called and text my landlord and he was absolutely no help at all. He suggested that I call the police. I called the police and they told me to call the Crime Stoppers.  I called Crime Stoppers and they told me to call the police. I called the police back and they told me to call the non-emergency police line. I called the non-emergency police line and they told me to call the police back. And these clowns wonder why people take the law into their own hands. At the end of the day I just prayed for those clowns and took my son to the coffee shop so they we both could get some work done. Crazy Right?!? 

Memories of Mandela and my Mixed up Thoughts...

To call Nelson Mandela an advocate for justice would be a gross understatement. This faithful freedom fighter invested his talents, time, career, freedom and ultimately his life to forcefully oppose the evil system of apartheid.  The South African government used legislation to impose institutionalized racial domination through means of economic oppression, separatism and extreme violence. The aforementioned methods of inhumanity made up the system of apartheid.

It’s one thing to voice an opinion about  what you believe in but it’s a whole new dimension  to physically place yourself in harm’s way,  dedicate your life to meet the needs of others and risk your life to stand up for justice and freedom.  Nelson Mandela not only practice what he preached,  he allowed his heart to pump pure passion as he fought  oppressive white domination, violent racism and aggressively  advocated for a true democratic society. 

Soldiers can be made by studying military strategy and combat training. True righteous warriors are born out of painful circumstances and seemingly hopeless conditions.  Mr. Mandela’s life is an example of a modern day King David. His Goliath was an entire National Party of South Africa. Mr. Mandela’s story was also likened to that of Israel’s son Joseph when he was sold into slavery and later on falsely imprisoned.  It truly boggles my mind how any God fearing, faith professing believer in Jesus Christ could cosign abhorrent actions like these. But then again I do live in the same America which hosted millions of uninvited guests (kidnapped and enslaved Africans) and continues to accept only minimal responsibility for the atrocious crimes of inhumanity.

Nelson Mandela has been a faithful freedom fighter whose impact on South African and the World will echo in the hallways of time until the clock of life as we know it ceases to tick. His life will be missed but his legacy will never be forgotten.  

Can't Even Laugh Because I Should Be Asleep

So I was up way too late writing and trying to memorize some poems. Why did I digress and start looking at some older videos. An advertisement for R. Kelly pupped up on Youtube and I curiously went to Celebrity Net Worth just to see if Robert had been a shrewd businessman and maintained his finances. Well just as I was reading it comic relief crept up on me in the form of a well hidden lie and I just could not let it slide.

I scanned over the article detailing R. Kelly's career and suddenly if was sucker punched, stole on, and snuck by a sinister quote that reeked of the scent of Shrimp Fried Shenanigans, "In 1994, Kelly married the then-eighteen-year-old Aaliyah, though the marriage was later annulled." Now I'm no mathematician but errrrrr uhhhhhhhhh let's do some  quick Sesame Street subtraction and addition and get to the bottom of this Scooby Doo mystery. If I take a Jan. 8 1967 year old man and a Jan. 16, 1979 year old girl and put 1994 into the equation I will end up with and end product of a 27 year old man and a 15 year old girl. But let's do the math a little more if you subtract the time it takes to make an album from the May 24th 1994 release date you potentially and the common sense it takes to figure out that this grown man was spending hours, days, and weeks with this teenage girl you probably have a bubble gum chewing 13-14 year old dating/kicking it with a 25-26 year old man. 

I only bring this up because I have a 12 year old daughter and the simple thought of a 15-16 year old trying to date my baby girl get's me fired up so I can only imagine how Aaliyah's parents felt. This is a story that is all too taboo but happens all too often and I'm not letting it rest. I'm no longer talking about the infamous, "No Robert! Not today!" He has already told us that he believes that he can fly and he showed us how to take urine stained video footage of under age females, sprinkle it with settlement money let it marinate for 6 years then fly right out the court room without a single conviction.  Yes it's  true that money does talk but it's lies are about as reliable and consistent as a Shamrock Shake at McDonald's. Good for a limited time only.  

Can You Hear Me Now? Nope, Because You Stole My Phone!

I was a part of an adventure that was not supposed to happen. The way thing were supposed to work out looks something like this. Student steals a teacher’s cell phone, doesn’t get caught and then gets to look at the teaching and silently celebrate giving him the BUSINESS! “Muuuahahahahaha”(in that villainous laughter voice). Well folks that’s not how this story is about to go down.

So being the “Changing the World One Child at a Time” type of teacher that I am, I pissed off yet another student and this clown stole my phone out of my office.  Moments after the incident all of the wannabe O.G. Tickle Me Elmo baby thugs sitting in my after school detention threw him directly under the big back tires of the bus as soon as I made mention of contacting the Popo.  I wanted to bring this case to a close as quick as possible so I logged on to my trusty Lookout Mobile Security(Wow this app is the truth) and I was able to track the phone directly to the address of it's current location.

I hoped that by reaching out to the child's mother we could recover my phone quickly and issue consequence and move on with life but there wasn't much traction there so I reluctantly reached out to the boys in blue.  I knew my window of opportunity to recover the phone was less than 24 hours because anyone with internet access can Google “jail break a phone” and find instruction on how to bypass screen locked pass codes quicker than Kendrick Lemar can make rappers start proof reading and revising their rhymes.  

This seemingly quick process was about to be prolonged. I contacted the police and gave them the details about the incident and the location of my phone. The officer on the phone went on to explain that I had to be within two blocks of the location of the phone for them to meet up with me and go retrieve it. Here's where things got tricky. My car was in the shop so I needed to get 10 miles across town really fast at night time.

No problem! I rode my bike to a friends place and borrowed her car and then I was en-route to go recapture my phone. Skurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr(sound of tires screeching as I sped off)! I followed the cops’ directions and parked two blocks from the tracked address of my phone and called them so we could rendezvous. I felt like a sitting duck just waiting to get his feathers plucked in this seedy parking lot at night in New Orleans East!

After two hours of impatiently waiting,  I said “Bump it!” and I drove  to location of the phone and just shot the dice and hoped for the best. I made it to the door, only to learn that this couple didn't know anything about my phone or who took it.  I wanted to believe them but I couldn't get over the results of the tracker.  

Another hour and a half later the cops showed up at that same shady parking lot that I returned to after my failed attempt to recover the phone. The officer looked disgusted as he exited his vehicle to approach me. I could all but read his mind through his facial expression which suggested that I was out of my mind to make such a ridiculous and pointless call to the station to enlist his assistance in recovering my phone.

Reluctantly he heard my request and hopped back in his patrol call and I followed him to the location designated on my  tracker. He knocked on the door and this time the man I had previously spoken with through the door came outside and he remembered me. This brother was so cooperative I wanted to slap myself. I told him the situation with the student stealing my phone and how it was tracked to his address. He invited me to search his property. By this time I felt foolish and ashamed of myself for having this elderly man out of his home after midnight.

Suddenly idea hit me like a grape juice stain on a Sunday’s best shirt after communion.  There was a tool on the app that would cause the phone to 'SCREAM' if we were near it. My only remaining hurdle was that my phone had died so I needed to access wifi in order to use the function on my labtop. In the words of one of my coworkers "Look at God"!  The kind gentleman who's sleep I had rudely interrupted explained that he had internet access and he would gladly connect me to it! BooYow!  Within seconds of my Tango dance with technology, I hit the ‘SCREAM’ icon and we heard the alarm on the phone and walked directly too it!

My thieving Tiny Toon Adventure Thug student had placed the phone under the windshield wiper blade of this man's car and rolled out. We all shook hands and I was on my way to go return the truck to my friend Danielle and make that final bike ride home. Oh yeah that final ride home with my phone I might add! Well this concludes our story and begins another saga! Time to plan some enriching activities for a young man who will be in detention for the next two weeks enjoying the benefits of Quality Time with Coach Briggs. Until next time..."Can you hear me now?" 

Yuck Mouth Mammas Mold Ratchet Lil Rascals!

I walked to Family Dollar after a long day in the school house. All I could think about was sweeping and mopping my floor with Lavender Clean Pine-Sol! That fragrance takes me to a mental plane of peace and tranquility. I guess I inherited that cleaning away the stress spirit from my mother. With that being said, I made it to the store and found the Pine-Sol and some Lavender air fresheners to match. Winning in a weird Better Homes and Gardens kind of way. 

I navigated through the see of shoppers, workers and talkers and found a spot in line. Roughly 20 feet from where I was standing there stood this woman whose physical description would be so stereotypical of stunt double for Judge Joe Brown or Jerry Springer so I will omit all of the "Turn Up Tales" leading up to a description that I would eventually have to repent for offering. Unfortunately my ears heard her long before my eyes had the pleasure of making contact with her. Needless to say the Weapon of Mass Destruction between her two cigarette, Black & Mild or blunt smoking lips went on a mission to annihilate and in moment’s notice it did just that. 

We walked out of the door a few steps behind them and I watch at the oldest little boy struggle to open the door for her. The two little boys and one girl were all smiles and giggles and he continued to lose the battle of the store door. In a matter of seconds her lethal lips parted and shots rang out of self-esteem ripping rhetoric, "Look at yo weak ass!" I had to catch myself because my flesh began to crawl like roaches on the filthy refrigerator of trifling tenants in a trashed tenement. I was ready to rebuke this sister but with language even more fowl that the word choices that she assaulted that precious little boy in his preadolescence. 

Before my left food could reach the sidewalk round 2 had already begun. As they all walked away she just refused to let that struggle of the door go. "Damn you a Bitch!"  "Move Stupid!" I tried to make sense out of her life struggle and give her the benefit of the doubt but she hadn't cut that lil guy any slack. She went into attack mode right in front of his siblings. And we wonder how children can go to school and curse out a teacher, counselor or administrator without even blinking. It's not hard to curse out a teacher or two when you are daily facing the likes of the Family Dollar Profane Poisonous Parental Figure! 

It shouldn’t surprise you when you hear children quoting Lil Wayne on the radio as he says things like, "Lil Tunchi got that fire and hoes love me like Satan." Or when there are singing on the school bus or in the car with their parents quoting Juicy J and making references to "Swallowing Babies." We are in a serious war zone and we as parents have to make sure that we are not only caring for our children and training them up in "The Way" that they should go but also that we are living the example for them and other people's children as well. We have no other choice but to pick up the slack for the parents who are not handling their business. I can only pray that I will have another opportunity to reach out to the little boy from Family Dollar. 

At the end of the day all of these children are sponges and they are soaking up all of their life experiences every day. We better pray, hope and help them soak up some Truth, Joy, Integrity, Peace and Love because if we don't when the pressures of like squeeze them to their breaking point what will come out in desperation is all that they have soaked up!  Love Blessings and Peace. 

A Dope Fiend Tried to Steal my Smile!!!

Friday August 9th at approximately I don't know exactly what time it was but it was late and dark outside. My son and I had just returned home from the Saints pregame against the KC Chiefs. We spent the evening laughing and making lifelong memories as we enjoyed the adventures of Father & Son, unofficial superheroes for hire. We made videos on the way to the game then took pictures as we watched New Orleans pride and joy defeat the challenger. As we walked back to the car we both anticipated getting home and creating a pool fool of almond milk for our Oreo Cookies( traditional chocolate and the new golden ones too) to dive in as we shared even more laughs and good times.

The reality of our living conditions came back to haunt us and remind us that we were in fact inhabitants of the ghetto! As usual darkness from city official ignored broken street lights forced the shadows to grow into giants of gloom which towered over our homes and forced any resemblance of safety and security to disappear. The blighted house next door resembles paradise for squatters and addicts looking for a place to sleep, smoke or shoot up. Our former next door neighbors in our duplex, who were illegally stealing our electricity, had finally moved out in an effort to avoid paying three months of past due rent so the sight of a image near our home gave me cause for alarm.

Just as we pulled up to the house, I spotted a freshly zooted out of her mind heroin addict who appeared to be moving in slow motion. She was sitting in the dark on the porch of the freshly evacuated side of the double shotgun house that we temporarily call home and I was not in the mood for any hood shenanigans! Her faced shined from profuse sweating in the New Orleans humidity and the whites of her eyes were completely reddish brown and glazed over. Her appearance and posture made me question if I was going to have to hit her with the truck and pray about it after the fact. She wore a dingy black t-shirt and some old jeans and she sat slumped over on the steps with a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I was scanning every inch of her body for a bulge that may resemble a pistol or rifle. But if she had a weapon she was about to spend some quality time with the Bone beloved, 'Uncle Charles'  because if I noticed one false move she was "gonna miss everybody..." as she made her way to the oops he just hit me with the truck 'CrossRoads'.

I didn't notice any resemblance of a weapon so I told my son to stay inside just in case and I proceeded to hop out of the truck ready for whatever as I made my way to my porch. Oddly enough she was watching me as I was watching her in this strange eye to eye contact dance that we were incidentally involved in. Without hesitation  I spoke first, "Are you alright?" Her sluggish and slurred response was, "You ain't gotta worry bout me!" All I could think to myself was what in life went so wrong that she ended up like this. I wondered if she was the person so took a crap on the side of our home and left the toilet paper on sidewalk right next to the empty plastic liquor bottle?? I wondered if she was the person my son saw snorting blow in front of our home a few weeks ago when I asked him to take out the trash.

 I walked back out to the truck and told my son  to come on. He and I walked in the house as her eyes followed us to the door. I closed and locked the door then turned on the porch light to hopefully kill her buzz and cause her to flee like a roach in a project kitchen when somebody hit's the light switch. After I sat down on the couch I knew I had messed up. Next time I see a dope fiend on my porch I'm going to have revival with them and pray that I blow their vibe! I learned a valuable lesson that night. Ministry doesn't always have to equate to family vulnerability. My son and I are moving at the end of this school year.

I'm Suffering From George Zimmerman Overload!

I have honestly heard enough about this case. I mourn with Trayvon's  loved ones and I pray for them but I also morn for the loved one's of Oscar Grant and Sean Bell! I also mourn for all of the families of the children that I have to bury every year who never make the news and their George Zimmerman's look just like me!

 Its time to acknowledge the reality that our system has failed us again. Our image is demonized and portrayed as villainous on a daily basis! Our community is deeply fractured and left in need of drastic repair! We have abandoned 'the village' and the God who created it! Now lets be honest with ourselves and have some honest dialogue about this case so that we can move forward!

Racial and generational bias legislation was passed in the form of Stand Your Ground and it allows registered gun holders to initiate and instigate altercations and justifiably kill individuals who they are in fact victimizing. Youth cannot carry guns legally and the NRA which is a majority white organization pays massive quantities of money for lobbyist to push these agendas. If Trayvon was Adam Schwartz and he was wearing a Yamaka under that hoodie Zimmerman would be serving time!

Race fueled Zimmerman to follow Trayvon. Race caused Zimmerman to get out of his car and approach Trayvon with less than favorable intentions(in part because he believed that Trayvon was in fact the vandal that was burglarizing in that area). Race based desperation and fear cause Zimmerman to kill 17 year old Trayvon Martin. And finally race and specifically the stereotyping and racial profiling caused 5 white women and 1 Hispanic woman to agree on a Not Guilty Verdict.