We Come in Peace

Last night I watched a documentary on PBS called Independent Lens:State of Arizona.. It was about the immigration issues that are plaguing the southwestern corner of the country. Now before I jump right in I ought to let you know that on some level I felt for all parties involved. Even the those furthest right of the issue; regardless of how skewed or myopic their solutions and approach to the issues at hand. I think it's important to preface this article with human rights involved. Because this is the corner of the spectrum I approach this issue from. I'll begin by confessing that before I saw this documentary about the

plight of Latino Americans who are here under legal or illegal terms I had very aloof feelings and opinions about these issues. Mostly because I live in a region of the country that doesn't live with it on a daily basis. But the moving images and pictures of the struggle that exists in the state of Arizona stifled me, not only that it existed but that it was willfully being carried out and orchestrated by a legislative branch of state government against hard working Latino Americans.



A major character in this documentary is a statute called SB1070; enacted in April of 2010,  essentially in it's original form it gave police the right to criminally profile mexican americans in their own cities and towns within the state or Arizona. If you remember civics from grade school you'll remember that states have the rights to run themselves as they see fit in matter where the federal government doesn't or where the constitution does not necessarily cover the role of the federal government (all subject to interpretation of the law of course). But as the elder brother to the states the federal government has the right to intervene if they feel the constitution is being violated. Well you guessed it, the state department intervened and took the State of Arizona to court putting a temporary injunction on SB1070 until it could be sorted out by the higher courts. In the end some of the most egregious parts of the statutes were struck down by a federal judge such as the parts that required immigrants to carry their papers and making it unlawful for undocumented immigrants to work or apply for work in the U.S.


The legal bits of this piece are tedious but once you understand the 'conditions' the government were trying to create for people trying to earn an honest living in the U.S. it almost makes you angry and ashamed to call yourself a citizen of a country that holds itself up to such a high standard on the world stage. The term 'attrition' was thrown around a lot in the film which is the means by which the state tried to get the 'aliens' to leave. I believe the slogan touted in the major media outlets is 'self deportation.' Which basically amounts to making living conditions so horrid for immigrant communities that they'll want to leave. Like all hate the DNA of SB1070 is made up mostly of fear and ignorance fueled by a xenophobia that has been spreading since this nation's inception. Lingering in the wings until the generations that nourished it dies off we are left with the good fight.

 One of the major cases being made by advocates of the legislation was that the immigrants were taking jobs, and taking less money to do it. Two advocates of SB1070 who were contractors said that they were economically affected because those who SB1070 sought to exclude from the community and workforce out

bid them on work projects by thousands, because they could afford to; and that they could not compete with the low rates that these workers offered when bidding on work.The anecdote offered by the two men frightened me more because it reminded me of a Jim Crow south; and the days of reconstruction. For a moment I thought if the American Zeitgeist had been where it was then in America, and it were acceptable would these men don hoods and/or masks and terrorize these worker who presented a economic obstacle for them. The thought sent chills up my spine. And although they didn't wear the expressions on their faces, or carry it in their voices. The most homeopathic doses of hate transmitted through my television set.To paraphrase Malcolm X: the can paint the picture they want us to see, not what is there. So watch with critical eyes unless it's public television or some publication with loose or no ties to corporate or subversive cultural interest. Usually your soul know right from wrong it's that little nudge in the back of your mind that you ignore instead choosing old patterns that have gotten you this far. This is as far as I can go with you on this subject. I hope you'll make a little time to educate yourself. Especially in light of tonight's broadcast from the capitol. Make it a point to bring it to the executive and legislative branch's attention via email, snail mail or better yet social media. Word on the street is that #SOTU + #SOTUis are the hot #hashtags tonight and all day so do it. They're human too, we're all connected.

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease,


-Bikim B.

Accolades and Bardos

As I read through my twitter feed reading dozens of burnt hip hip fans over the lost of 7 Grammys by hip hop new comer Kendrick Lamar. To be honest I'd never heard of the guy before my last AmeriCorps Term working with HS kids in a hip hop concentration class here in Pittsburgh. Mostly in the form of swooning, or something like that. I spent the better part of the weekend listening to his debut studio album Good Kid M.A.A.D City. I have to admit he definitely stands out from his contemporaries he rifts about such themes as his dreams perseverance over adversities broadcasting an energy that those in his generation can receive. There are a few tracks but those that stick out to me are namely one titled 'Bitch don't kill my vibe.' The hook reminds me of a Heatwave joint called 'Star of a Story' in the Kendrick joint goes "I can feel your energy from 2 planets away, bitch don't kill my vibe."


 When African American artist express themselves this way it validates every facet of my universe and the way I can see it.  Or at least the way I struggle to see it regardless of the obstacles that enter my airspace. It's hard you know to see the universe the way you cognitively and intuitively know it to exist. This Kendrick Lamar kid is not only on to something he has obviously has found a sweet spot in his soul. I pray and hope that this doesn't discourage his artistic journey. Because after all this is his first joint I want to see more. i mean don't get me wrong kats like Andre 3000 are more than a precursor to Lamar's galactic lyricism, and of course George Clinton is the captain to our U.S.S. Enterprise. And while I haven't heard his mixtapes in their entirety (usually more raw than studio joints, more free in a sense). His Studio work seems authentic, and I like it. I have a pretty good knack for this. His themes are different, and a juxtaposed to his contemporaries; much like the artist he lost to in the 'Best Rap Album' category-Macklemore. Whose story I also find inspiring, and is, in his own right as much an asset to the culture and genre. And if you didn't know or live under a rock, Macklemore is white and Kenrick black, which is the crux of alot of the turmoil on my twitter feed more than 12 hours Grammy ceremonies were concluded. I personally think critics who would draw lines in the sand along racial lines are not  or may not be qualified to do their job (as professionals within the genre and public life) and should find a new line of work. Art knows no bounds, and when those sound vibrations hit that small bone in your ear drum and tap nerves in your brain your skin and even culture has a tendency to melt into a slurry of love goo. A concentrate flavor of love that can only be tasted by the heart and soul. But anyway that's a blog for another day.

Through all of this I think all of us who considers ourselves hip hop fans, should all calkm down, and not take the Grammys as seriously as the Grammys take themselves. So lets all close our eyes inhale, expanding our diaphragms and slowly exhale. Press play. Smile. Love you all.

"Dream those dreams, because a life w/o dreams is black + white, and the universe flows in technicolor and surround sound."

-Reggie Ossie (aka Combat Jack)

Hello folks and Happy New year to you all. I apologize for my horrible discipline and my lack of attention to the this publication. Having a busy life is not at all an excuse to not blog as often as I can or should. This to me is a public journal, and my conversation with the world. I see all of my fellow bloggers out there pontificating about the vast wide universe and everything in it, and I feel worthless for slacking all of this time. Well the good news is that I have gotten better or at least more motivated to write on here ans provide more content from my life and the stuffs going ons in my life.

Since the last time I touched you all with my words a lot has changed. And if I am reading this right I haven't posted in over a year (21NOV12..Jeezus). Well I won't let that happen again. And I need you to help me make sure that doesn't happen. i promise I am gonna stop being so stingy with the treasures I had been hoarding over the years. the kind of treasures that make year long droughts like that.

Anyway since I last posted I have started a new job at a 4 star hotel in Pittsburgh that is making a pretty major transformation possible in my life. One that is sorely needed. for internal and external reasons (more on this later). Also I have been taking law classes, and have since received a certificate in paralegal studies. I have also been in a beautiful relationship for over a year now too which is pretty cool if I must say so myself.

Now that I have gotten that out of the way I'd like introduce to you a streaming line of thought that I had on the bus coming home from work one day (19JAN14 to be exact). I wrote this on a second hand iPod.





For the past 34 years I been trying to find my shine. After 34 revolutions round the sun. No such luck yet. I hope I don't leave this earth without having made a worthwhile contribution. If not i'll have alot to answer for when I get where i am going. Maybe god can explain to me where i went wrong. Where in rested when I should have pressed on. Where I licked my wounds when i should have pressed on through the pain. Like gov say " don't run from the pain run upwards it." that was a really fucked situation. I was a whole 'nother dude back then. Uber sensitive, poisoning myself to fuel a false self. A stranger to my soul. Feeding the vector feeding on the Source that sustains me. Submitting bullshit prayers to the Almighty. Praying on top my prayers that the Big Santey Clause grants my wishes.


oh and p.s. if I only have one reader in all of this I LOVE YOU for listening to me, and tell your friends about me if you think I am any good. If any of this makes sense to you pass it along. I'll get really uncomfortable if my stuff would on some parallel universe gets more than 20 views and people starts contributing but i need to get out of my comfort zone so push me :)

Okay so you remmeber how like 3 weeks ago i read an article featuring a writer named Anne Lamott, and I was all excited, and it sounded like I wanted to blog long enough to wrap my pontiffications around the planet five times? Well the urge is still in me; its just that i have tons of to the shit to do; and I have since come into what can be called a 'social life.' Yep ya boy's heart strings have been tugged by another. It's hard to sort out my emotions, and

Re-Kindle

So I was reading Time Magazine’s 10 Questions; it featured a writer named Anne Lamott. Apparently she writes Christian books on parenting and such. Of all the people I have seen in that feature; I find her to be the most intriguing. Why I am not sure but deep down inside I know she speaks to the ‘Jesus Freak’ within. That kid I became or met some 13 odd years ago. He loved the iconography of the Christ, and the cross. He read the New Testament to his Campers in the summertime at Camp Ladore. He spoke to the creator of the universe in small whispers in his bunk at camp; and he cried silently at the end of the Jesus Walk every night. He used to have quiet times and write in his journal, and a monumental sense of wonder. I have not seen this guy in quite a long time; in fact I’d go as far as to say that I may have been avoiding him for quite sometime. I’ve gotten a lot more of what the kids call ‘swagger' since the last time we both sat in the same skin. I may have left him in a cold puddle, to die in Fort Leonard Wood, MO.

As it stands at the moment I haven’t even goggled this Anne Lamott, but if she is the face of Christ in 2012 I am sorry I left. Now some of you may be asking yourself, 'how did I complete an entire internship at a church i downtown Philadelphia, if I have had such a disconnect from the body of Christ? To respond to that obvious response Broad Street Ministry to me is far more than a church; no that's precisely what it is to me. It's a community of good people doing good things for those who need them. I've examined those whom I worked close with over there at BSM, and I can see their hearts are pure, and their mission is noble. They accomplish the commission left by Christ on the Pentacaust to his disciples. and they mimic the deeds of pioneers of the modern church like St. Paul, Stephen, the Apostle Thomas, Mary Magdalene, and the Holy Mother. There is where I learned to nourish my soul again, I just wish I could go there as often as I want so that I could do the same thing on a weekly basis. i was almost inspired to enter the seminary while I was there but I am afraid of what it would do to me; that I would lose myself, for the better or worse the idea still frightens me. But perhaps I would wake up with more of a purpose. This Anne Lamont woman says she converted to Christianity at 31 years old. I am 32, and I'll be 33 in less than 8 weeks. If you believed in that kind of thing; some would say that this may be a real special year for me :-).

In the book of the book of Job  God the creator of the universe, and all of the worlds is presented with a wager to remove the hedges from around Job, and that he [Job] would surely curse him [the Lord]. Job is put through a series of tests, and as predicted in the text he did not curse the name of the creator once. His friends told him he should because he lost all he had, and his entire family had perished from one ailment or another. He lost his entire herd of livestock (which was equivalent to money in his culture), he had basically lost all he had; but through it all he remained faithful. If you don’t know how it ends Job got his shit back ten fold, and when he had a moment to breath he asked the creator why was all of that necessary, He basically responded that he’d created the Universe, and all of the worlds, and that he really didn't have to explain himself to his creation. Now this isn't the gentle deity that I learned about in Sunday School through the voice of Jesus in Parables and sang songs about with campers at campfires. But I do think this vista of the universe is needed. To help keep things in perspective; and so that one can appreciate warmer seasons when they come over the horizon.

I am not sure who this Ms. Lamott is but she has rekindled something in me that I am not sure that I can turn off now. But to be honest I have to give due credit to other writers theater in my life that have been encouraging me to “just write.” and I still don’t quite get that advice, such simple words from very two very profound women. My greatest hope is that this is the beginning of a regular affair  and  I hope that I a not talking to thin air, and that someone out there can actually read this, and take something from or contribute to it. And if you are one of my 'evangelical' friends I hope that I do not offend you at all; my only hope to enlighten you, at least from my end of the universe; it's all I can see from here. But I am open to input, and takes on the subject or ideas I discuss here. And just so you know this is the closest you all will get to reading my personal journals. For the record I am also a 'seeker' with a jewel in his breast pocket. So where ever you are Anne Lamott, thank you for your light, and from me to you Love, Peace, and Light.

Glass Elevator

 

So I have made no secret about my admiration for eastern religions, and in a exchange with what amounts to be a total stranger to me at this point I quite frankly told them my reasons for choosing one faith community over another. The following texts protects the names of the faith communities involved for better or worse (regardless of the choices I make in the future with respect to faith communities I choose in the future)

i dont understand what do you mean by what am i interested in? are we talking about as far as service.......the degree to which a church serves the greater community around it....cause that was christ's true mission on earth: service....not that [unspecified faith community]  doesnt do that they do....i just didnt get the vibe is all i am sure if i go back it'll be diffrent. the curch i usually go to is in philly and the expiernces i have there are hard to come by in modern christiandom....i always look to shed my human layers so i can reveal myself to the creator...that just didnt happen for me at [unspecified faith community] .

In the end there I didnt intend on saying that much about what it was I was trying to say but I did. I feel like I went over; but it felt right so I let it flow through my fingers :) And if the hands are conduits of the heart then I guess I did well. Now back to this idea of man revealing himself to the creator, to in turn see and be seen. There is a Hindu theological term for this  I learned from a religion professor at IUP back when I was in college; it's called puja. 

Wikipedia defines puja as making an offering of gift to the likeness of a practitioners chosen deity, but this is not the definition I recall from my time in the classroom so long ago. But what I do recall is Dr. Mlecko defining  it as "observing god, and being observed by god." Pretty comprehensive definition wouldn't you say? So the link attached to the above is a better definition than what Wikipedia has to offer.

I participated in a ritual something like this when I went to Philadelphia during Holy Week; at the church I specified in the above email. The service was in observance/celebration of Holy Thursday; the night Jesus shared the Last Supper with his disciples. Having been raised Baptist I had never been to one of these, nor had I heard of it. so the sermon was good, brief and to the point but it was the ritual that tugged my heart. I received communion, and had my hands (in lieu of feet, it's faster and more sanitary) ritually washed by the clergy of the church. 

I guess the point I am trying to make is the places we place ourselves, can make us more or less open to what the ethers have to tell us; or what we have to tell the creator. i think sometimes the things we hear coming from the pulpit serves as an asset or a detriment to our proximity to the divine on the holiest day of the week. I know for me when I hear certain buzz words or phrases I am totally taken out of orbit with the divine, and back on this terrestrial plane with humans. To me places of worship should be ethereal elevators to the heavens to meet the creator, so we can share our joys and sorrows; and thank the creator for the opportunity to frolic in his creation. Like the ladders that Jacob saw angels descending and ascending, or the creature that Mohammad rode on his Night Journey to the Holy Land church should be just as exhilarating.

I wrestle with elements of the 'human condition' that I cannot grasp all the time, this isn't what drives me to church; cause Lord knows I have taken my fair share of extended leaves from the presence of the Almighty. But when I am in front of the creator I usually make it a point to shed my skin in the presence of God. I am not quite sure what happens in these moments. I will keep what I remember of these exchanges sacred, this is why I have chosen one faith community over another.    

There's No Place Like Home

Oh all the places I'd like to go on this earth in my lifetime (before i go to my TRUE home) from the majestic Wats of southeast Asia to the vistas on the northwest  of these United States there is not place I'd rather be than the Streets of Philadelphia. I love home and everything about it. I love to see my hometown grow and evolve from the place it used to be when I was a child to the place it has become in the 21st century.  A stroll through Rittenhouse park is a glimpse of heaven, and nothing I have seen to date quite compares; in the way of ordinary city folks fellowshiping together in a common city place. Ahh and the heart of West Philadelphia; what more can a man ask for; I don't think that place can ever get too hood for me. Muslim brothas pushing their intrusive fragrances on every other street corner; and the smell of black and milds in teh air. It's no paradise but it's familiar to me. The kind of familar honeybees must feel when they return to the hive to drop off what they have collected from the fields and medows. Damn I love home. Marveling at the West Philly's fresh new back drop forces flashbacks of the 90s in my mind's eye. I'll miss you when I leave, and come back when I am good and ready.   Being a wall flower in that mosaic is more than I can ask for. Flying S's whizzing past my head, and the aroma of street vendors cooking up their urban edibles for metropolitan on teh go is what I miss the most when I am in my new home on the other side of the state. While a slower paced; and a more amiable crowd I do miss the fire that comes from the folks here in Philly. It even rolls off the tongue beutifully: Philly.

My real purpose in coming home this week was really to get back in touch with my heart; that being my nuclear family and my church family whom I love dearly. In their own ways they help me put things in perspective. All the time spent alone, or more properly 'away' i lose focus and call out of orbit from my heart; or maybe better put my true center. The transition to Pittsburgh for me was more of a way for me to expand myself. and as we all know growing isn't always the most painless experience in the world. Evolution is even more excruciating than growth. All things considered I am glad to have had the chance to be back, and I look forward to returning to the steel city in a few hours. Go Flyers!

Mr. Brown Chills in Washington

The images of this city never cease to amaze me, and what they do to me are even more profound than me. A city whose surface function is to be the legislative and distractive mechanics of this beautiful society that we live in boosts an amazing array of cultural beauty. I love just sitting on the bus being a fly on the wall able to witness the exchanges between my fellow bus riders. It’s good to know that even in a city like Washington; living in the financial strenuous times like we are now people still have faith in God. It really makes my heart soar. It also gives me the strength to go on. As some of you may know Washington is a city that I used to reside in; but and alloy of timing and maturity made it impossible for me to live here. I am not sure if I could ever call a place like this home for a myriad of reasons. But I have a handful of loved ones here that I wouldn't trade for the world, and they make this sometimes cols city as warm a hand-woven quilt on an autumn day.

But I am addressing you, on this place because of the images, I haven’t even been here an entire 24 hours and already I have been touched by what I have seen. The first of these is a advert on the metro for the Humanist; it’s a magazine that publishes on a bi-monthly basis. I used to read it in the library all the time when I was living in Philadelphia. Most of the articles take a very secular human stance on most issues, they report on; mind you they report on a humanist not merely human stance. Thus they yield to the higher angels of human existence rather than the lower demons of human nature. But it’s hard to gather that if you just take the advert on the image and words alone. I have made no secret of my allegiance to the almighty on here, but I have also made no secret of my plurality, regardless of the close-mindedness of some of my brothers and sisters out there who’ve already condemned ‘non-believers’ to hell. But to be honest to deny yourself or your being of being open to some omniscient being is counter intuitive to human existence, but further from what I have read of the humanist it’s readers are usually open to love of nature and communal brotherhood of some kind. Which at the end of the day what most, if not all sacred texts are getting at, at least on a human to human level.

Juxtaposed on the other end is what may send others screaming to something other than a ‘God’ this is an image I saw not two hours after the above in a family member’s neighborhood. Images like these frighten me for a number of reasons. The most ranking is that it scares people into a relationship with a being that doesn’t relate to his children that way anymore. If I were a 1st century Jew I suppose this would scare the crap out of me (even if they don’t believe in the traditional ‘Satan’ that we do). It’s also very immature on the part of the clergy; it’s as if they are teasing the ‘unsaved’ by waving an effigies of  the living Christ in their face. In the NT St. Peter tells the readers of his epistle to live such good lives that even if they accuse you of doing wrong they see the good you do. Actions brothers and sisters speaks volumes more than words ever could. But our words can cut as deep as the sharpest blade; turning one’s heart cold as ice. The vibrations of our songs can pierce the sensitive ear drums of those who need it most. Regardless of intention we can water from the mouth of Hagar’s crying child. So it is my suggestion that we (you/they) stop spooking the Almighty’s starving children, with their blurred view of  the gospel.

The Hearts of Men

Okay so I read about as much of the grand jury report as I my belly could bear; having read the contents, my position remains the same. The base of my case remains’ with victim #2 and the incident the occurred with graduate coach Schultz who walked in on a child being raped. From a legal stand point the fact that he walked out on a child being raped could imply he was implicit, or that he was protecting Sandusky. So Schultz calls daddy and he’s told to ‘come home.’ and From there Paterno is informed, and they take Sandusky’s keys; after an eyewitness account! So Paterno tell his people that one of his grads walks in on  Sandusky raping a 10 year-old child, and all he does is call his supervisor (and I find it very hard to believe that J. Paterno has a traditional supervisor. as in he really answers to anyone).


It really looks to me like a group of men (if I can call them that) were working very hard to protect a dynasty, and another man’s job because of his contribution to that dynasty. Paterno is a coward he shirked when his better judgment should’ve been in the driver’s seat. He appealed to his lower demons, and ignored his higher angels. It is my belief that he and the other gentleman Schultz should hang from the gallows with that Sandusky fellow. No he did not ’do the deed’ as a friend of mine commented but his crime of silence was of the same spirit as his darker codefendant. It’s very cut and dry to me; when you live in a culture where men are allowed to act like children for as long as society will let them things like this happen. I think our Jewish brothers and sisters had it right ushering their young people into adulthood via Bar-Mitzvahs and Bat-Mitzvahs.  Unfortunately we live in a culture where people have more of a romance affair with a game then they do for the condition or treatment of children in the institution that they revere so much, There is no reason PSU’s sports program should not be boycotted for the crimes they let scatter under their watch; that boils down to no more than human trafficking.

If these men had the same heart for children as the mission of Second-Mile was supposed to be then they would have resolved this over 10 years ago and this would have been a 2-7 minute sound bite, with Sandusky doing the perp-walk away from Beaver Stadium…but here we are.

Fresh Breath of Life

For the first time in my life in quite a long time things have seemed to find a rhythm, I guess once you escort all the chaos out of your life equilibrium and gravity seem to take their place. Regardless of all the craziness that I have confronted over the past 5 years, and countless cast of characters (some I kept others were asked to leave), one thing has remained constant; and I guess that one thing can be simply defined as my mission in life, and my hopes and dreams for a world that I have been thrust into. Suffice to say I am glad that I have reached this place, and hope that this trajectory continues. It is a trend that I can get used to; not to say that I am ill equipped for the valleys and canyons that I only expect in this journey called life. I can only hope that the best of the best are sitting shotgun with me when I meet those obstacles. So far in life I have not been deprived the company of saints, and it is my only wish that I accumulate even more upward thinking individuals.

In summation Pittsburgh has been really good to me, and I am thankful for this place, and the people in it. Especially my friends that have made my ride a lot smoother than it would have been otherwise, oh and I can not forget the kindness of strangers. It’s the heart of the stranger to the left or right that has made the adjustment to Pittsburgh that much easier. I also dig how “have a nice day” is a welcome way to see a stranger off; it’s a welcome change from places that I have lived in the past where abrasiveness is just a survival mechanism. But I am in Pittsburgh during football season five days before they play one of the region’s biggest rival. Still don’t quite get the STILLA CONTRY thing but perhaps I’ll be able to wrap my head around it before my time is up. Not promising that I’ll be a Steeler fan. Iggles ALL DAY SON!!!!




Love + Peace

The Urge to Snap

Today(29 JUL 11) while in downtown Pittsburgh i saw an outspoken catholic gentleman w/ a life-size crucifix hanging across his chest; holding a huge sign that read something to the effect " America Kills Babies" in huge print. Conjuring images of Wesboro Baptist Church I could only smile as I tried my best to shroud my discomfort with the confrontation unreaveling around me. A woman stopped at a traffic light begins to scream and rent back at this man who was addressing the general public; informing us of the ills of planned parenthood and how it was the single cause of our country's decline. At one point the woman in the car is screaming at him "you're not a Christian!" Now you maybe asking yourself so what is the take away here Bikim? Well for one this was a first for me; being a Philadelphia native a heretic like this would've been ignored on the streets or in any other public place. But put quite simply it was pure culture shock to me. I was kind of glad to see someone challenging this man who was bullying everyone within ear shoot of him.


I don't have really have anything to offer in the way of biblical commentary other than the architects of the Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights were indeed men of God but at a bare minimum I would call them deist. And that abortion and the life of an unborn fetus aren't issues that were at the forefront of their minds and i do not think that it should be at the forefront of ours either. I will offer you this in the true spirit of those premature lives crushed before their existence could even began.....

"How can there be too many children? That is like saying there are too many flowers." 
— Mother Teresa

Now I am neither pro-life or pro- choice but I takes these sorts of things on a case by case basis; it just so happens that my government has an open policy on this specific procedure. I can't imagine to know what it is like to carry a life inside of me, but I know what irresponsibility looks like. And I can say that those who engage in acts that have the potential to produce life and snuff out the natural repercussions of their union should consciously reconsider their options, and where what they have done has left them.

With all the financial decline occurring here in America, and the rash financial markets are leaving across Europe, I feel like the most dilapidated unit in the whole of america as far as I can see is the family unit. I can almost guarantee I am not in agreement with my demented brother on that Pittsburgh corner, I will offer you that tears in the 'so called american fabric' can be linked to fractures that exist in the modern american family. To illustrate the staggering number of single mothers and divorce rate. Obviously single mothers aren't running to abortion clinics- and I have always said that single mothers are my personal heroes because they do it all alone, and play the role of two parents while (somehow) maintaining their sanity. In summation let me be clear, I have nothing against a woman's right to choose.


For now that is all I have...

Love + Peace

Cause the Sun Came Out

Just stopping in to say hello, I guess this is one of those rare occiasions where I feel like my spirit is dancing in heaven, yet my body is anchored to earth still allowed to frolic among creation. My tea tastes better than it did the day before, and the sun; well the sun is shining a bit brighter than it did yesterday as well. The music sounds more beutiful, and I feel like a true child of God whose inherited treasures that my immature mind can't quite phathom. I could kiss the sky, if I haven't already done so. For those of you not in teh know I am officially claiming the 'Burgh as my permanent place of residency. After reviewing teh tapes, and looking over all the pro's and cons, it only make sense. The art scene is bustling the skyline is divine (to see in plain view of the rivers that weave in and out of the city). The way that the water and metal dance throughout the urban backdrop sends my heart swooning on and off the Pennsylvana turnpike to recover what I left in Philadelphia; and at the summits of the Pocono mountians. Keep me in your high thoughts and prayers, and I'll do the same for you brothers and sisters....I promise :-)


Love + Peace

Duh Arm Uhh

So the other day (12JUL11) an old army buddy of mine posted to his facebook; a query on the meaning of life. Mind you it's about 10 a.m. in the morning, and I am just getting up and have barley been dressed for 2 minutes before I see this. So 'off the cuff' I answer with the best response that i have, which was no answer at all. And after I put my shoes on I went back to my laptop and responded with " to live out our dharma the best way possible." Our exchanges went back and forth at least til mid afternoon; with him responding in tune with his usual strain of military type sarcasm, dousing my 'theological intellect' with his sharp tone and coarse wit that he wielded during our service days. But he told me that if he was hindu that would have made sense, then asked what do you say to someone who isn't hindu or who refuted the entire argument in general. Which I can only surmise that he was alluding to atheiest, but an these arent the kind of questions atheist routinely ask, and besides I known that my friend wasn't an atheist already. But I could empathize with his concern for the otherside of the equation.

But my response to him at the time was that I was not a hindu, and I was telling him about the concept of dharma. Which he then retorted-by defining religion as taking another person's (minister/pastor) word for it when it comes to big cosmic questions or lofty theological issues. Which for me is a point that I can understand, having come from a Baptist background, or at least I think I know where he is coming from. But I also told him that even the Buddha told his followers on his death bed not to take his teachings strictly on face value, but to take the voyage for them selves, and to keep seeking.

 It has always been my understanding that even though written words take on a life of their own; and the words written in holy books give lives to some people-people like me. Some of my people (religous and atheist alike) take the words all too seriously, when really I think that the ancients who wrote those words so long ago, had totally diffrent intentions when they etched those words on scrolls and lambskin so long ago. Imagine if you could, you were asked to write a story or leave a note behind for future generations, and all you had as a point of reference were the culture and the people of the time; and had no way to account for how the future would pan out. Well this is what the writers of all our ancient text were doing. I do not think if Moses knew that millions of people called 'gays' would be ostraizied in a place thousands of miles away called America he would have etched what he did in Leviticus (18:22). Or the Apostle Paul would've written about the relaltions between slaves and masters in his society, where slavery was a common practice in the society inwhich he lived, for a number of generations. I am almost positive that he had no clue a bunch of anglo human traficers would've used this verse to justify the rape and murder of countless generations of African slaves. Living in a dualistic universe only lends itself to the carnal will of humanity; and one must come to terms with the fact that man has the capacity for utter evil. Now I cannot be sure about this but I think that the divine counts on the inheritnt bravery and goodness that is native to the human spirit, which sets us all free eventually; even if that means waiting on the democracy of death.

So in the end I am not sure how to respond to questions that rock the foundation of what can be a mundane existence. Prayer is a good way for me to do this, I try to stay in contact with the divine in all that I do, even when I am doing things that I am not supposed to be doing. I won't confuse you with red herrings like 'does god allow evil' cause to me that implies that we don't possses  any of teh divine qaualities of our creator. Which is what I was tryiny to convey to my old army buddy. And I do not subscribe to the school of thought that proports that 'father god' is all mighty and we are all teh helpless children waiting to be rescued. No -no Psams 82:6 tells us that: we are 'gods' we are all sons of the Most High. So you see free will is more than freedom, and the will to be ignorant; but let us use all the tools at our disposal. Let us practic our duh arm uh!

So in closing I leave you with a piecce from the late great comdeian Bill Hicks.

It's In My Pocket Dummy!

So guess what America, I GOT AN ANDROID!!!!!! Pretty cool huh? Now I pride myself on not being as materialistic as I want to be; and I reign in my materialistic instincts when ever possible, but this is some cool ass shit, you should see this thing. I mean it tweets, face books at 3G speeds, I can hit links you know the small micro ones that are created for twitter. Very cool shit if I must say so myself.  You are definitely going to hear from me more often, and at least twice a month on the fly via android blogs. Hey and follow me on twitter (if you make sense I promise I'll reciprocate) why don’t you. Well its gonna be an awesome ride into the future, don’t be afraid to follow me.

What does this mean, well first of all that I'll be tweeting my little head off, and that I this makes our communication alot easier, like say for instance i get a flash of genuis, and I can stop long enough to record it, you get to read it, and we can bounce things off one another so that we can make this planet loads better for our children (mine as yet to be born, as I am still taking applications). What this means for the world, well WOW!!!! I love this tweeting thing, I finally have a device that allows me to tweet and do tons more via the internet, its like a computer in your pocket. A computer with a really crappy battery. But I am working on even that as we speak. So see you out there America, if you are even listening, and if you are see you out there tell your friends.

Peace + Love,

Bikim Brown

Happy Father's Day!

My father would’ve been 65 years old this year (his birthday is sometime in February). Words can’t quite describe how much I miss him; and wish that I could speak with him for a moment even if for a few minutes. Don’t get me wrong I don’t wish I were dead, and chilling with Jesus and all my passed on relatives; after all there is a season for everything, I just wish  that the storms weren't so tough to weather. Sometimes pulling my collar up isn’t enough. Sometimes the wind still hits you in the face. Sometimes I wonder what he thinks of me from over there or up there or wherever it is; if I make him proud. Then other times I don’t give a damn, and get upset  that he died on me.

But it’s only on days like this that I get stuck on the thought of him, and what my life would like if he were still here. Ultimately what it means to be a man, my father was not a perfect man but I have learned worlds from him, and hope that I can leave an impression on those around me the way that he did. In the end I am glad that he no longer has to feel the terrestrial pain that comes with existence on earth anymore.  And I try and let go of the  selfish yearnings for a fatherly presence.  Sometimes I wonder if it's okay to miss someone that's not around anymore this much, like is it fair to them from where they are? I can only ask the Almighty to help me calibrate my heart from all the 'mushy stuff' that makes us miss those who are gone; and I hope for the best that my prayers are answered in the best way possible. Or maybe  you could pray for me :-) I have had better days, but i am truly thankful for good friends, an awesome family, and having been blessed with a great sense of humor.....I am trying America, but I need to try harder.

X-traordinary Humans

Hello America, I know it has been a minute since I have touched base with you all, but I have been busy with the business of living, and getting things done. My latest effort has been to join the rest of the planet in the ownership and acquisition of a ‘smart phone.’ But that is not why I am here today; quite recently I have been swept by this summer’s storm of modern day mythology of the comic book hero. This storm that has been powered by Hollywood, and fueled by the American public is going to be a sight for those eyes that choose to take it in. The one I’d like to talk bring to you is X-Men: First Class. Quite honestly all I can do is 'marvel' at the work that was done by all the players involved in the making of this film.

There are a myraid of reasons that I adore this film; and the least of these is it’s continuity with the original written material, as I am not a ‘fan boy’ and would not recognize if I saw it. But the pure artistry of it all for starters, the musical score for one of the characters in the movie Magneto [Michael Fassbender].  His storyline is one in this multi-pronged plot that a dig the most; as the director is telling the genesis of a villain. Making the viewer almost sympathize with his aching evil streak. So this either cleared up some errors you had after the three other previous films in the franchise or pissed you off for some reason because its not exactly like the comic. To address my oversensitive ‘fan boy’ readers- it’s a different medium to express a very popular art form; so that others may also take part the satisfaction you get from reading this artistic expression.  For me personally it was absolutely exhilarating.

But  that is not why I am here today, towards the end of this modern day epic moving piece of art it dawned on me all the major players in this story were analogies in that they have an affinity with certain public figures in popular American culture at the time they were created. In fact the entire X-Men Franchise is mostly about the differences in the human melting pot that we as individuals may snarl at, if you haven’t picked up on that already. But more specifically I’d like to take an opportunity to begin a discussion about how popular forms of art can open our imaginations to the possibilities of the human mind and spirit. We may not [yet]  posses the ‘powers’ of telekinesis or the ability to project sound waves through the air, but we all humans have our voices, and the ability to resist our lower nature and appeal to our higher angels.  I think a lot of us take the lower more accessible road because it is one of convenience and comfort but it is in times like these that we should “check ourselves” and challenge one another to go to our limits, or until it hurts whichever comes first. The stories that were told in the above mentioned film are a few that struck me as I watched the drama unfold, and forced me to ask myself: When was the moment that I chose to take the road that I am on? And whose villain am I? If I am even a villain at all.


All this talk of Super heroes is beginning to stir up a bit a nostalgia in me. My last summer at a place I like to call my own personal patch of heaven, that I now only visit in dreams. There was this song that the kids used to sing under the tent (very corny indeed, but it never escapes you psyche no matter how hard you try). To see the kids prancing and jumping around shouting the lyrics send my heart soaring. It went something like this. I like to think I am a bit more mature than a child learning about the depths of their souls and taking their first steps into an eternal relationship with Jesus but the idea here is the same. So until I continue with this conversation to discuss some of my more terrestrial contemporary heroes I leave you with this:

The Air is Fine Come on In

1 Cor 13:11-->when I was a child, I talked like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man I put childish things behind me.

Matt 18:3--> I tell you the truth, unless you changed and became like children,, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.



Its two diametrically opposed verses like this that cause some argumentative proponents of atheism to rant and holler about how the Bible is an archaic lexicon that should be buried in the depths of the planet never to be seen by another human being again; I would counter that they are playing by selective rules, and not the same set of rules they bask in when they speak of their beloved discipline science (I like science by the way).

But it’s my personal believe that to live as if one doesn’t have a soul  is like living as if you have no lungs, to me the stubbornness with which some of these folks act, is akin to watching a child pout in response to denial. And I personally believe it to be unfair to the collection of divinity that is your being. It is a shame to wait until the moment of death to learn the reality of life, as our brothers and sisters in  the east persist: this is not the last time or the first time that we will incarnate into this life. But for some reason we forget.  After all the first thing we do when we are born is breathe, As I used to tell my  colleagues sometime ago in a very taxing work environment--> “breave.”

• A word about the WORD: I think what Paul and Christ are saying are subjective to each of their respected audiences; Jesus was teaching his disciples, so that they could carry one the work of the church he was perpetually building . With his words of wisdom acting as the metaphorical bricks and foundation.

• Paul was writing to a group of people who were learning the teachings of Christ and coming out of a society that was by and large being bombarded with Hellenistic culture, and were at best clinging to an ancient form of Judaism if that haven’t already given in to the demands of the ruling regime. That portion of the text speaks of looking at your reflection and being sure of who you are; I think Paul is talking about MANNING UP like I was trying to say the other day (11 APR 11). 

• To speak more to what Christ was trying to say; he is talking about attaining the holy spirit, and Paul is talking about everyday existence once you have attained this state of being or consciousness.

No Life W/O Death

Well America, in lieu of no cable television and my regular dose of internet porn. I’ve dug back into an old friend, my favorite abbot among the stars Thomas Merton. A book I bought some time ago entitled The New Man, whose premise is based in the Adam as the father of original sin. And Merton being the humanitarian that he is places no blame on Eve (at least not that I have seen thus far). Anyway his launch point is promethean theology, and Adam’s original sin in Eden with the whole tree of knowledge thing…it’s good shit trust me get into it America…..it’s GOOD SHIT!!!

Anyway in his Mertonian way he imparted wisdom on me in a way only he can regarding PRIDE one of my largest stumbling blocks……so verbatim he says “ ….pride is a stubborn insistence on being what we are not and never intended to be. Pride is a deep, insatiable need for unreality, an exorbitant demand that others believe lie we have made ourselves believe about ourselves”-------> now how does this apply to me do you ask? Well this past week I had a very ‘heated’ can I use that word? Cold War with a friend/roommate over the past week. Where were both being douche bags and giving the other the cold shoulder, and space has was a very serious factor in all this (like actual space=square footage space). So I hope this makes sense America…are you all following this. In short this little spat I had with a very dear friend of mine has taught me that I am not the tough guy I portray myself to be when I am ‘among the fellas’ And that we are all human at the end of the day; waiting til you’re on you’re death bed to pour your heart out is a bad idea. Okay my male readers out there (do I have readers? Is this thong on?). I mean don’t be a punk either; or a doormat being a doormat is a bad idea….just from time to time wear that shit on your sleeves…but stay MANNING UP.

So in sumation AMERICA brotherly love is good…good friends are awesome, and we should thank god for em’ and don’t for get to be human from time to time…and friends are awesome…and no one likes a douche-bag no matter how much they pretend--> Thomas Merton Said it not me. Happy Monday yall!!  :-]



P.S.- Another thing about the whole Eve bit, I really have to commend Merton on not blaming her for the whole 'fall of man thing' I  really think it's high time we in the Christian community take responsibility for our actions and stop pushing our human frailties on some mythical figure. Our brothers and sisters in the east call the qualities we deem lesser within the dharma of life, or rather following our dharma; and perhaps our perception of these lesser qualities are some form of dukkha.



Peace & Love,


Holla!

'Little Guy'

Hello AMERICA!!!!!! and brothers and sisters abroad...its been a minute since I have updated this outpost in cyber space, so today I'd like to offer a gift from the heart. The first is a written tiding of happiness and hope from the heart, the second is a visual one I have created myself, with help from some allies in the art world.

A Prayer Amid Mediation
(An Ode to the American Working Class)



These are my thoughts these are my wishes
Is to bring my dreams to fruition
With no real help or push from the Divine
Just that all my hard work and effort
Come to a final culmination
All my dreams and hope for this lost nation
That you lift my brothers and sisters
From this dire situation
Clear away all distractions
And miserly fantasies from their hearts
Heal them of the amnesia that
Makes them forget
The heaven centered destination
From which we departed
Release the gifts we all harbor inside
A fair job for my enemies and friends is all I desire

this is my imitation of what it would look like had I ever had an opportunity to visit the Giant Buddha Statue in Kamakura, Japan. One destination among many that I would love to see before my time on this planet is up (so I guess it's on my bucket list). But to be honest it's more of a reflection of an inner 'little guy' I think we all have within.

 

American Dreamin'

One of my favorite things about being a human being is having the ability to dream, have dreams; and wake up with a solid realization of what I’d just perceived in my slumberous state. I would be the last to call myself one who is able to accurately interpret dreams. I have trouble even deciphering what it is that I see in my personal panoramic productions.  Some say  that symbols hold an enormous amount of weight; while others simply believe that dreams are there to give us a realistic evaluation of how it is we are doing in this life, and give us realistic goals for ourselves. Even if those dreams involve peacefully toppling your country’s present government, or on the opposite end of the spectrum one could be inspired to ask out that cute girl/guy that may be the mother or father of their unborn children. [Ha Ha -some might say a peaceful coup de tat and making love to conceive a child are one in the same ].

 

More divergent figures propose that the setting of the sun and rising of the moon is a time for our souls and spirits to revisit our true home and converse with our ascended ancestors and our friends that we have forgotten from another realm or vibratory level. What do I think about dreams? Well I don’t think anything…because I am sleeping silly. But when I wake up, I usually try to contemplate some of the
ramifications of what my faculties have allowed me to perceive. Sometimes I even journal what it is or was that I recalled verbatim, and if I can capture it well enough I’ll enlist the assistance of my artistic instincts. It may take up to two years for a dream that I have written in my  journal about comes fully to light.  But that is the beauty of it. To me it’s as if the Divine paints a picture of itself  for us, and we can see it before we make the long trip through the cosmos to our place on this earth, and dreams are the play back. So whether you are a single mother waiting tables in the concrete mosaic that is NYC, or hauling steel beams from Witchata to L.A. you actually might be expressing your dharma on a perpetual basis.

But dreaming isn’t just something that we do at night, or during cat naps after a long day, really it is something that we do collectively Dr. King had a dream, and he brought that dream into fruition; even if the price shortened the cord of life that he gave so freely to a world he just wanted to see in better condition than he found it. It’s this facet of dreaming that those in my generation have comprehended so well. To offer a prime examples those among the hip-hop generation. Namely figures like Kanye West, Sean Carter, and the Roots to me these men are the embodiment of the American dream. Carter for example was born into what most would call an impossible situation: William L. Marcey Housing Projects. It’s the music makers that provide the backdrop for a generation, and these guys provide for me in my waking hours what the Divine shrouds me in at night. I pride myself on being very eclectic when it comes to my musical tastes, but what sets these individuals apart from Billy Corgan, Micheal Stipe, Billy Joe, or even Bono is what they represent, and the vibes that their work exudes. To me they broadcast to the universe what minions of downtrodden in the ghettos of this planet’s ‘most privileged’ land cannot. That message is too confounded to condense to one word so I won’t attempt.






The outset of this message is dreaming, so when you close your eyes what do you see? I had intended to discuss the dreams of a dear friend of mine. And how the trails of a tough economy and circumstance have force him to forgo or postpone some of his dreams. I wanted to talk about how much more he could do to bring these jewels to fruition, but now I am not sure where I stand when it comes to my friend and the status of his dreams. Once upon a time we dream't of how we wanted to conquer the known world one thing at a time. Truth be told we drank a lot and chased women in and out of bars and clubs too. But my man has come a long way since our days back in school. I guess what I wanted to get at was the nudge…scientist say it takes anywhere from thousands to millions of years for diamonds to form deep in the earth’s [ha ha ha it‘s as if the jewelry industry charges 78 cents for every year that the stone spent in the earth‘s crust]. No matter the amount of time spent to form; the common denominator is pressure.

What do you think of dreams?