the oswald interview

the retired assassin grimaced

as he tried to explain how he became

a spirit spent on a soul-less paradigm

he wore expensive glasses with both lens cracked

there were bird feathers

a string of baby saliva

and lord knows what else

that stood out on his junk-wire beard.

he had the face of a world

that gave birth to a still-born Africa

he spat that the only way to kill Ecclesiastes

was to write poetry from right to left on

parchment without lines

to change the flow of red rivers, he said.

with a mischievous grin and snicker he quickly added

that he stole the idea from one of his victims and

that he probably got the details mixed up, or left some out.

besides, he mumbled, the sun really doesn’t make a distinction

between whats old and whats new…

A tale of two economies

“I’m sick and tired of people going to congress in Washington D.C. and making a living out of it while we starve to death.”

Those words were spoken by a resident of Newton Iowa during a segment of CBS’s 60 Minutes titled “Anger in the Land,” which aired on October 31, just days before the 2010 mid-term elections. The words were simple yet as savage as a sledgehammer striking at the foundation of the frustration shared by citizens across the land.

Newton is one of the small towns in America that has been decimated during the Great Recession. The 60 Minutes segment was devoted to capturing the mood in the country just before the elections that would be taking place in the midst of unrelenting economic hardship. A CBS/New York Times poll was cited that revealed that 80 percent of the people polled said they want most incumbents out of Congress regardless of whether that incumbent is a Democrat or Republican.

Though understandable, much can be said about the unsophisticated and suicidal aspects of this sentiment, which speaks to just how deep in the dark the majority of Americans are as it regards the jigsaw puzzle that is governance in this country. But in fairness to those of us who are languishing in the darkness, it’s extremely difficult to connect the pieces when we’re disconnected from the process. Note this exchange that took place during the 60 Minutes segment:

“What’s surprised you the most about this recession?” correspondent Scott Pelley asked business owner David McNeer.

“I think the depth of it, and the length of it. I think what surprised me the most about this one is it doesn’t wanna end,” he replied.

“You know, the economists say that the recession’s over,” Pelley pointed out.

“Really? They should come to Newton, Iowa,” McNeer replied.

But of course they won’t be coming to Newton because the people in Newton really don’t matter. They are no more a part of the economic recovery process that truly matters than they are a part of the political empowerment process that truly matters. And that goes for the majority of us living in America.

Robert Reich, former secretary of Labor under President Clinton, put it this way in a recent article:

There are two American economies. One is on the mend. The other is still coming apart.

The one that’s mending is America’s Big Money economy. It’s composed of Wall Street traders, big investors, and top professionals and corporate executives.

But there’s another American economy, and it’s not on the mend. Call it the Average Worker economy.

Simply put: There’s the American economy that matters to the folks that matter in Washington D.C. That’s the economy that’s composed of those that have the wealth and power to shape policy to their advantage. They are the ones that, for example, rule Wall Street and were able to contribute 15 million dollars to presidential candidate Barack Obama’s campaign and have the monetary muscle to lobby against any meaningful legislation to regulate the Wall Street investment banks “whose missteps caused a global financial crisis and economic slowdown two years ago,” as pointed out in an article that appeared in Bloomberg.com the other day. These are the people responsible for the economic catastrophe that has produced the suffering that is taking place in Newton IA and throughout the country and the world. 

Then there’s the Average Worker economy. The majority of us are plugged into the one that doesn’t really matter. Well, at least at the moment that’s the case. I’ll simply close with the ominous warning that Mr. Reich issued at the end of his article:

“…if nothing changes in the Average Worker economy, there will be hell to pay.”

last night in the vestibule

i was hoping that it was the wind again

pretending to be an old senile actor trying to

carry a message

a warning

between forgotten lines

wanting to be born again

but giving up and dying

in the form of this man

whose features i had often given

to the night

whose voice i had often given

to the darkness

who was at my door…at my door.

he rang the bell as if all of his blood

had surged into the one hand, the one finger

like the one that pokes our chests or our foreheads

after each utterance of why

after each scream of why

like the one that belongs to grandmama, to granddaddy

or their grandchildren who don’t know any better

the finger that seems to always separate the blood

into explanation

blood that was about to be set free

flowing like declared independence

after alley-crack dialogue

filling lies where rock and sand have failed

no, the wind’s freedom is not the same.

maybe his blood was Ashanti…as mine became Dogon…

there were shadows standing along the drawn-up boundary

hearts beating like hands against a hollow log

he was a wanderer seeking refuge from the shadows

like an unplanted seed needing one last embrace from the sun

not caring to take root beneath infertile rhetoric.

he was a stranger

seeking refuge in a vestibule…in a village

Senufo…Bateke…no…yes…no…we were both african

but he could be conquered

his hand fumbling through the boot-legged images

that could bring death from the shadows

that could conceal death

but he could be conquered.

hearts beating like hands against a hollow log

a shared dialect heard above the babble

of fading shadows

…Ibibio…Yoruba…no…we were both african

i could feel it in the wind.

Black Dating in a Hip Hop Society

It might be wise to attach a disclaimer to this post: The views expressed in this video are not necessarily the views of The Muse Minefield (namely me). And there is some explicit language.

I simply see the video as a creative look at the complexities of the black male/female relationship today, particularly as it pertains to the Hip Hop generation. But after all is said and done it’s one man’s (who refers to himself as GQnupe) perspective that, from what I can tell, has attracted some attention and has sparked spirited debate.

Sometimes debate is good. Here’s hoping that it leads to more meaningful dialogue than it does deepening division. Hey, we can always hope…right?

the afterparty (…an interpretation featuring tupac…)

born of a panther

this rhythm cry will never end:

its volume is an eternal dance.

life-steps

that fall in time as

the soil inhales and exhales.

life-movements

that flow from the soil.

not to be mistaken for loose dirt

that swirls across vacant lots

during a changing wind’s last sigh. emulating

something natural, disastrous. exposing

tracks that lead to and from where panthers

give birth.

this rhythm cry cannot end, because

there is no end to be seen.

breathing life into a slowly dying

struggle. blasphemous to some, the

breathing is the religion, heresy is

the dance.

a manifesto is each motion.

see me. feel me. touch me. i am here.

this is my space. thumping, bumping

space. as narrow as a needle with no eye.

celebrating a moon that sits

in the sky of a hot july afternoon.

jumping up and down, pumping

fists into the air.

not moving.

Welcome to the Circus: Jimmy McMillan

Even a circus has its serious moments, where the entertainment is underlined by the dangers associated with acts that thrill and excite us. I have no idea who this guy is, where his candidacy is going, or what may be revealed about him down the road.

But I do know that the danger underlying this latest viral sensation is that the issues that he is bringing up, the issues that really matter to everyday people whose voices are being drowned out and who are also dying from the condition of being unheard, will merely continue to serve as props for the same old tired acts…

Clipping Weezy’s Wings

Artists get inspiration from various sources, and they often augment their skills by escaping to a private world on the wings of their imagination, where creative freedom has no boundaries and they become empowered to birth their visions into reality.

This is what came to my mind as I read about Lil Wayne’s latest collision with reality at Riker’s Island, the jail complex where he is currently serving time after being convicted of attempted criminal possession of a weapon.

The 28-year old rapper was banished to solitary confinement after being accused of breaking jail rules after a pair of headphones and an MP3 player charger were found in his jail cell. I’m assuming that those were simply tools that he used to escape into his world of vision and creativity.

It’s amazing how often we as human beings don’t fully appreciate things until we lose them. And this is a human tendency that cuts across color, class, and cash.

Fame and fortune have a way of twisting logic and lives, whether it’s the lives of those who are famous, or the lives of their fans. We tend to forget that we are not of our own creation and that there are forces that are greater than ourselves.

When we lose sight of these fundamental facts we often bring chaos and disorder into our lives, as well as the lives of those that we influence. No human being is exempt from the consequences that come from abusing power and profit that are the rewards of gifts taken for granted.

Just how high can Weezy fly? High enough for President Obama to mention his name on a couple of different occasions during speeches that encouraged kids to stay in school, because not everybody can be like Lil Wayne.

Where I come from, to have your achievements recognized on that level is considered a blessing, and with that blessing comes opportunity and responsibility that no human being can run from without repercussions.

Lil Wayne recently released the video for his soon to be released single/album, “I Am Not A Human Being.” But he and all of his fans are very much human beings and that’s as inescapable as Riker’s Island.

(Louis Lanzano/AP Photo)

before coffee

a man cries. a father cries.

he can no longer shield them from the devastation: he never could.

he can feel the avalanche, he can feel the mountaintop crumbling.

the rumbling resonates inside of his head like powerful speeches inside of empty arenas.

but it is a negotiated peace that has crushed him, his bones reduced to powder, in danger of being bagged and sold.

he ponders his street value, more naive than a pimp’s fresh meat.

an auction block is preferred…anything that simplifies.

the dawn’s mirror finds him fading with the night…