"Let Me Ask Y'all A Question" by Black Ice

i heart his dude.

Black Ice - Let Me Ask Yall A Question

let me ask yall a question
when you look at my brothas, what's your first impression?
does the sight of us leave you guessin' or do you understand the stressin', the aggression
the look of no hope on my niggas faces
like the lord overlooked us when He handed down His graces

you see, embraces fall short on the tips of street entrepreneur fingers
stuck in the walls of the project halls where the coke smell still lingers
external blingers is all we can be, 'cause on the inside we've been given nothing to shine on
and a gig is harder to get than coke so niggers get their grind on
cuz the tv tells us "Aim high, nigga, make all goals lateral"
but that takes paper that we don't have so niggas put their souls up as collateral

now some niggers reclaim 'em, some blame 'em, making an excuse to sell her,
but when a nigger goes from not doing to doing, what can you tell him? --not to be a nigga?
shit, i's gots to be a nigga
that's how i pay the bills and i'm gon' do that whether i got to sling this coke
or exploit these rhyme skills
see, america makes you an opportunist and at the same time it institutionalizes you
so the fact that niggas get these big record deals, big money and then go to jails shouldn't surprise you
that's what lies do

and most of these guys do have raw talent, just infantile education
so the business feeds them all the weed and ecstasy and just a little bit of paper to provide some pacification
from all the bullshit frustration they serve you

meanwhile they corrupt your perception of what the real is
see, they've taken all our businessmen and made them drug dealers
took all our messengers and made them rappers just flappin they jaws
afraid to admit their treason
took all our soldiers for the cause and made them killers for no reason
and being fucked up? well that's in this season

so if you're negative, you're positive
and if you're positive, you're called a hater
but i maintain control of my soul cuz i know it gets greater later
and i told y'all on the last show, i'm no hater
i just know what the truth is

i've been intertwining this pudding for a year now so i know where the proof is
it lies in these mid-town manhatten skyscrapers where former hustlers sign papers and do fucked up capers by 16 infamous stars at a time
got 'em choppin' and baggin' and serving that shit to niggas 16 bars at a time
and the crime is undetectable by the feds 'cause in the heads our of kids is where the track is
and music shoots straight to the soul, it's so potent, so it's much more addictive than crack is

now the high is just an illusion, lies and confusion
but just for this rush, just once these young bucks would go through it
so in essence they still flooding our streets with thugs, drugs and killing
they just using these record labels to do it

taking our heartfelt demos, putting us in limos, trying to fuck our directions,
and most niggas is trained to chase money and pussy so we fall victims to our own erection
convincing ourselves that we're on our way somewhere we're not going, but
ignorance is bliss and niggers love this so niggers take pride in not knowing
we're not growing
nigger, i don't give a fuck how slick you flowin if ain't showing these kids nothing or add nothing positive to the earth

see, i've been destined to touch this world since the day i was born
to be honest, fuck a deal. God gives me what i'm worth.

Nate Robinson Blocks Yao Ming

knicks fans don't get much, so we might as well take what we can get.



Nate Robinson (5'9") BLOCKS Yao Ming (7'6") during Rockets/Knicks game on November 20th, 2006 at MSG
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"I'm a Rapper" by Sekou the Misfit

made me laugh.


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Purification of the Heart - Ostentation

*Excerpts from "Purification of the Heart: Signs, Symptoms, and Curses of the Spiritual Diseases of the Heart," a translation of Imam al-Mawlud's Matharat al-Qulub, by Shaykh Hamza Yusuf*

Ostentation

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Definition

The next disease is riya’ or ostentation, the most nefarious form of which is when a person performs rites of worship merely to obtain a place in the hearts of others. The Prophet (saw) referred to this behavior as “the lesser idolatry.” He also said, “I do not fear that you will worship the sun, the stars, and the moon, but I fear you worshipping other than God through ostentation.” He said, moreover, “What I most fear for my community is doing things for other than the sake of God.”

(p 57)

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The root source of ostentation is desire, wanting something from a source other than God. (The Arabic word for root here is alwiya, a derivative that also refers to one who carries the banner, the standard-bearer, who leads the way or commences an activity.) The Imam says that the cure for ostentation is the same cure for reckless compromise (mudahana). It is actively and sincerely seeking out purification of the heart by removing four things: love of praise; fear of blame; desire for worldly benefit from people; and fear of harm from people. This is accomplished by nurturing the certainty (yaqin) that only God can benefit or harm one. This is at the essence of the Islamic creed. The Prophet (saw) said in one of his most celebrated statements:

“Be mindful of God and God will protect you. Be mindful of God and you will find Him in front of you. If you ask, ask of God. If you seek help, seek help from God. Know that if the whole world were to gather together to benefit you with anything, it would benefit you with something that God had already prescribed for you. And if the whole world were to gather together to harm you, it would harm you only with something that God had already prescribed for you. The pens have been lifted and the ink has dried.”

(p 57-58)

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"The Pathology of Gilbert Arenas" by Tom Chiarella

much love for gilbert, but the man is seriously OCD. but i heart him.

Article

Highlights:

"like Earl Boykins, he's a fourth-quarter player. Ben Gordon is a fourth-quarter player. The fourth-quarter player is the one you want. Me, I'm gonna shoot that shot every time. Every time." ~ Arenas

ENTRY 3: OFF-SEASON TRAINING HABITS OBSERVED
The Wizards' strength coach feeds the subject the ball, off both makes and misses, which aren't many. He shoots from beyond the three-point arc, stringing together nine made shots in a row at one point, then twelve. Later, from a full four paces farther back, he makes fourteen in a row. That, it should be noted, is a heave. The subject is expressionless when the ball goes in. The loose upward thrust of his body, the calibrated arc, the soft thwick of the net—it does not seem to please him or affirm anything about what he is doing. But missing, even once, makes him wince.

"It's night, remember, a while before midnight, a time when most people his age, most people with his sort of money and cars and good looks, are drawn to the expansive and throbbing possibilities of clubs, parties, concerts. Gilbert shows no sign of that pull. He is simply dealing with time. "

"ENTRY 15: SELF-IMPOSED COMMUNICATION BARRIERS "When I get a new cell phone, first thing I do is turn it off and call from my house phone and leave stupid little messages to myself. Like: "It's me." "It's me." "This is Gilbert." "It's me." "It's Gilbert." I just fill it up, so no one can leave messages. If you don't, you leave for an hour and thirteen people have called. So there are thirteen new messages you have to listen to and it's like, Oh, man. I don't feel like hearing people's stories. Most people love leaving messages that they don't want to tell you in person. So I cut that off." ~ Arenas"

"The subject steps out of his dressing closet holding a list he keeps there of every player in the 2001 NBA draft who was selected ahead of him. "

ENTRY 19: SUBJECT HAS AN IDEA FOR A SHOE COMMERCIAL "You know how I always throw my jersey into the stands after a game? In Washington, they just go crazy for it. So in this commercial, that's what I'm gonna do with my shoes. I've just hit a game winner, and I throw these shoes. Everyone starts to react, and you see everything in slow motion. Everyone's pushing, shoving, doing whatever it takes to try to get to these shoes. People from the 400 level, they're jumping off the ledge, they're missing the pile, hitting nothing but chairs, and you can just see in people's faces like, Ooooh, that hurt. While all this stuff's going on, one of the shoes pops out of the crowd, and a little girl gets it and she takes off. A couple of people see she has it, and they start chasing her, and she's looking back running—and then she gets clotheslined by a kid in a wheelchair. So he picks the shoe up and says—he's gonna have the only line in there—"They said I couldn't get it. Heh. Impossible is nothing." And then he rolls off." ~Arenas

Moon

OK Go - Million Ways (Back Yard Dance)

remember OK Go?

apparently i missed out on their first video.

The Office Brings Sexy Back

i don't care how much you hate the song, it will be stuck in your head all day now. best show on television.

The Foreign Office By Liesl Schillinger

if you love 'the office' (which is a prerequisite for friendship with me, at this point), i think you'd find this article interesting. it discusses the differences between the four (yes, four) international versions of the office which have been made -- french, german, british and american -- and shows (albeit briefly) how these differences reflect our cultures and workplace and love-life mentalities. geeky? definitely. but still interesting, so stfu.

link: http://www.slate.com/id/2150015/

highlights:

In the American office, passivity mingles with rueful hopefulness: An American always believes there's something to look forward to. A Brit does not, and finds humor in that hopelessness. What truths, I wondered, might Le Bureau and Stromberg reveal about the French and German professional milieus?

And if any conjecture could be made about the cultural differences that these subtly contrasting programs reveal, it might be this one: These days, Germans and Americans are doing much of their living in and around their offices, while the Brits and French continue to live outside of them.

We may still talk of "working like a dog," but the Russians lately have coined the expression, "to work like an American," reflecting our 24/7 on-call mentality. These days, for Americans, "home office" is not just a place, it's a state of mind.

Perspective

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village near a beautiful white sanded beach. The Boat owner (Mr. DC) complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.
"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked Mr. DC.
The Mexican explained "this is sufficient to meet my needs and those of my family."

Mr. DC then asked, "So what do you do with the rest of your time?"

"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, spend time with my wife... In the evenings I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, chase the senhoras, and sing a few songs. I have a full life." The Mexican responded.

Mr. DC said, "I have a M.B.A. from AU and and an LLM from WCL, I can help you. You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat. With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers. Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, DC, Los Angeles, or even New Jersey! From there you can direct your huge enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied Mr. DC.

"And after that?" asked the Mexican.

"Afterwards? That's when it gets really interesting," answered Mr. DC, laughing. "When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really? And after that?" asked the Mexican.

Mr. DC replied,
"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near a beautiful white sanded beach, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, spend time with your wife, and spend your evenings drinking and playing the guitar with your friends!"

Beyond Words by Suheir Hammad

i was gonna try to do the highlights thing, but man, it's just too good. tried to bold the parts i loved more than others. advanced warning: going on a poetry binge. prep yourselves.

Link

B E Y O N D W O R D S

1.
Where has my language gone?
The poet searches for words to wrap around these times
Make them sense Make them pretty Make them useful

Words from the past haunt our conversations
Empire and Crusade
Plans and Centuries
All these words cleared understanding before
Fall heavy now
And weightless into this abyss of bad news

I have seen the photographs
Again words Prison Torture

Desperate for words I can write
That are not profane That are objective Read as rational
So people will not stop reading this self-conscious poem
So my parents will not be embarrassed
So Americans will demand the return of their own

Desperate for words I can write
So I can keep from becoming something hard and unforgiving

Language has failed me

I am told to believe nothing I read
Then everything I read
I am given my own face to be wary of
I am told to fear colors as alerts
I am told over and over
Iraq is not Palestine
Kabul is not New York

The photos
Women Raped
Posed as girls gone wild
This is entertainment This is staged This is recorded
Men Chained
Do words such as humiliation and torture
Truly fit the immensity of these acts?
What happens to those who survive?
What happens to those responsible?

Haiti is not Chechnya
Chiapas is not East L.A.
Iraq is not Palestine
Over and over I am told

I am given a vantage point and a lens and instructed
Do not move Do not look up Do not look down

I am falling

2.
No connections here
No illuminated parallels
Two different histories and two different peoples
Make no links
Do not confuse the issues

Only confuse the people

For 56 years Israel has legitimized
This type of behavior
Sanctioned violence in the name of a god
Who does not have enough love for us all
A god who chooses sides
A god who has favorites and chosen ones
A god who cuts deals and shuffles souls
The type of god who does not answer prayers
Who understands only one language
A god who does not worry his beautiful mind with
Such ugliness
I am told this is America's god

The photos from Rafah Palestine
It is 1948 and 2004 in the same frame
Their eyes say to the camera
What will you do with this pain?
Where will you take it?
Can you take it from me?

This space between the lens and the subjects
Is concentrated with pleas for witness
With promises of cycles unbroken
With children's bicycles under the rubble of once were homes

Another level of exile is being constructed

And I am falling

Aaagghh, ya Phalesteen
What is it about us they hate so much?
This face? These eyes? This obstinate refusal to die?
How much trauma can one nation endure with the world staring?
Some mouths open in shock
Others silent and sneering
While women scream at a frequency the living cannot hear
Again? Again ya Phalesteen?

3.
How fucked up is it that I have to choose between ending
One occupation or another?
Partition my time and portion my information

I have to make Nice Play Fair and Polite
When I want to tear open my chest to void it of this emptiness
This ache has eaten into my head and wears down my dreams
My friends worry I am not eating enough
Am taking too much on Too much in
I find nowhere to rest this responsibility

If I say nothing I am complicit
If I say something I am isolated as extreme
As a theorist in conspiracy
As if war is ever a coincidence
As if genocide simply happens

This is about oil and land and water
This is about illusion and the taking on of airs
The poor once again the munitions in rich men's cannons

This is about light and dark
There is no black and white in humanity

I am told
Venezuela is not Cuba
Rwanda is not Kurdistan

I am not the woman kneeling
In front of soldiers and their cameras and their weapons
I am not the child shot in the head by the Israeli Defense Forces
I am not the starving AIDS inflicted mother
Praying I live longer than my children
So they will not be orphaned and sick and have to bury me
I am not the child who watched
Her family chopped to death in Lebanon in Sudan in Nicaragua
I am not the father who leaves his children so as not to hear their empty Bellies call out Baba, where is the bread?

I am the woman whose taxes outfitted this tragedy
The American the Authority does not speak for
The Arab the Arab leaders do not speak for
The woman whose shouts of Not in My Name
Were spit back at me as a slogan of the misguided at best
I am the girl from Brooklyn told to mind her business
I am the poet in search of new words
And a new world Not Mars

4.
We use antiquated terms that cannot stretch enough to touch this truth
We have not learned from the past enough to not repeat it

I am told it has always been this way
War and Pillage
Rape is older than prostitution
And prostitution is the oldest politic
The way the world has always been
The pimps and those they pimp

The human race has always left
Those who fall behind

If I am to survive then
I learn from the present
From the future promised

We learn to live with madness
One cannot be healthy in a sick world
Only navigate illnesses Only medicate wounds
Pray you are not contagious
Try to hurt no one

My elders say dissent has always been watched
Radical ideas have always been recorded
But even those who have lived on the margins admit
Under breath It has never been this bad

Not everyone is suffering True
Most thirst
A few swim in pools that fake connection to seas
Most starve
I throw away meals I have no appetite for
You can shop from your couch and eat food fast
And never think about anything other than your credit card debt
And the next hour's purchases
Shop and stop asking questions
I have envied this stupor
Even knowing it is the least honorable suicide
Even knowing its apathy is another kind of murder

5.
Sometimes all you can do is inhale and exhale
Life a shallow version of its potential
Sometimes all you can do is search for life where you are
In the city A flash of yellow on the basketball court
The divine geometry in the pattern of a girl's hijab

For a week I have been cleaning and knifing enough
Parsley for tabbouleh to feed hundreds
I pray over the green
That what I make will feed those in need of a meal

There is still love in us
The proof is that we are watching it die
There is still hope in us
Hope is there in my sisters' eyes
There is still enough resistance in us
To create a world where there is no
Your people or my people
But our people
Our people who kill Our people who are killed

I somehow know love will save us
The proof is in the stories not broadcast
The poems not published
The truth between the lies
The stories whispered in the dusk of this day

I know somehow love will save us
Though I can't find the passion or desire in my body to make it
There is still a source for peace deeply embedded in this chaos

I know love will save us
Though words fail to point out how

Amazingly I still pray
To a god I envision to be larger than any nation Any religion

And I still hunt for language to gather into a poem
That I pray will feed those like me
In need of proof they are not alone

What's On Your Purse?

grossness. they tested women's purses for bacteria and such.... and found nastiness. link to original story

highlights:

Many of the women we interviewed admitted they put their purses on the floor in public restrooms, at food courts, in dressing rooms, in the floor board of the car.

They found one bad bug on every single purse tested in the Metro. It's staphylococcus aureus and it's on the FDA's bad bug list. It's the bug that gives you food poisoning

They found e.coli bacteria on one out of four purses. They also found hepatitis and other bugs that can make you seriously ill, causing everything from the common cold to diarrhea.

every time you flush a toilet, an aerosol mist of water containing bacteria and fecal matter rises from the toilet and settles on everything nearby: your purse, shopping bag and maybe your child. If you're at home, your countertops and maybe your toothbrush are at risk. You can't see those germs but they land all around you and your things.