Archive for the ‘C.R.E.A.M.’ Category

Life And Death On The Southside…

Friday, April 25th, 2008

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BILLY X. SUNDAY reflects his thoughts while America’s war on the poor continues unabated.

Since I’m prah’lee like the only cat at this site that has intimate knowledge of the peripherals into the Sean Bell murder case I would be remiss for not submitting my $.02 (even though I still don’t have my W-2 from Harris – WTF?!?).

BOL raises an interesting point with the fact that Sean Bell’s economic status has as much to do with his murder than any other factor. Poor people in the United States stay losing. That’s just the facts of life playboys. We were all born to die. Poor people were just born to die faster and harder (no Daft Punk shiny leather pantsuit).

Peep all the shit that poor people have to endure in their lifetime… State sanctioned terrorism from the police, a legal system that prosecutes them even when they are victims, mis-education from derelict public schools and malnutrition from the quarter water corner store a/k/a bodegas. Someone needs to clone poor people because they survive some brutal shit on the regulack.

Sean Bell and his friends were poor people. The types of kids that would never think of taking a few stacks and putting that paper into an IRA Roth account. They prah’lee don’t even have checking accounts. The bar they went to was on the outskirts of their local neighborhood. Poor people typically don’t stretch themselves past the environs of the place they grew up. Shit is too complicated outside of the cocoon. Human relationships are too complicated with people who aren’t from the same neighborhood. Sheeeeeit, human relationships are already complicated enough with people in the same ‘hood.

In the county that Sean Bell lived in I can think of a dozen stripclubs better than the one he went to, but because he was poor he wasn’t going to find himself in an area that would be new or different. I keep saying that Sean Bell was poor. I don’t think you understand me though. Being a poor person doesn’t have to mean that you have no money or no expectations of yourself. It just means that you are mired in a caste system that devalues your existence. Sean Bell was going to be married the following evening so he obviously had expectations for himself, but he was raised in a community where the average person doesn’t achieve higher levels of education.

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Let’s be clear on something else. I am part of the working poor myself. I have been waiting on my paper from XXL for so long that my cable and my phone are both disconnected, so I understand why Sean Bell ended up in that rundown shithole of a stripclub on the outskirts of the badlands. The police were poor people as well. Don’t think for a minute that even detective grade police officers can’t be poor people. Keep in mind that these men have a level of education equal to Sean Bell’s. These cops might even have been underachievers during their school career. Joining the police force in some ways is akin to signing up for the army. It gives the underachievers some measure of power and control when they never had these things previously.

The night of Sean Bell’s murder was a cocktail of drunken poor males, and several of them had guns. The drunks with the guns also owned a ‘Get Out Of Jail’ free card better known as a police badge. This exemption is critical since it allows the police to sober themselves and corroborate their stories prior to being presented to a query on their conduct. Ultimately, it is still the story of poor people killing one another. I wouldn’t expect you to not be upset about the turn of events that finally acquitted the police of murder. It is a shameful story of the abuses of conduct and deadly force. Similar to the story involving the Blackwater USA mercenaries that took place in Baghdad.

This is the modus operandi of supremacy. Poor people killing each other and being eaten by the system.

Wash, rinse and repeat.

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MIAMI’s FIRST AND LONG…

Wednesday, April 23rd, 2008

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Miami Dolphins’ savior, first round pick from Michigan JAKE LONG is being rumored to be the NFL’s anti-christ. The talk is that the first pick requires so much money in a guaranteed signing bonus that if he turns into a bust it will bankrupt the team that signed him.

I don’t believe that shit for a minute…

The NFL has a gaggle of sponsors who clamber over one another to be seen on game day as the “official” so and so of the league. Last season, the NFL made billions for itself on the whole, and then generated trillions of dollars in consumerism. The money to pay these players is certainly available, but the greedy franchise owners don’t want to bite into their mega-profit margins.

Think for a second about the billions of dollars in ad revenue that was accrued from the Super Bowl this year (I say billions because the 2006 contest totaled $1.59B in ad money). This league is making ridiculous money and they only have a season where they play one tenth the number of games they do in baseball. NFL owners need to respect these draft picks and pay them their money.

Its not like the owners give a shit about the veterans who are physically decrepit from years of running into other people at full speed, and mentally unstable from years of taking lord-knows-what painkillers and pills.

DEPANNEUR = BODEGA

Monday, April 21st, 2008

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The bodega culture is the universal worldwide quest to consume inexpensive food, beer and lottery tickets. It attracts poor people all across the globe. Canada and their fancy socialist universal health care has no exemption from the plight of poor people. They just get better medical treatment.

As usual, there is always a church within short walking distance to the vice vendors.

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Speaking of bodegas…

What are you doing this Thursday?

The i.C.’s want you to come to our screening of ‘Bodega’ at the Donnell public library in Manhattan at 6pm.

DONNELL LIBRARY
20 West 53rd Street
(btwn 5th and 6th Aves, across street from MoMA)
New York, NY
212.621.0609

Did I say it was FREE?

Keeping It Montreal…

Monday, April 21st, 2008

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Big up to the Habs’ center SAKU KOIVU who returned to the ice after suffering a broken foot.

Hockey players >>hardbody>> everyone other living mammal.

You have to show love to the Habs when you blow through Quebec and that is what I am doing right now. Chocolate Snowflake decided to treat me to a long weekend at this city along the St.Lawrence River. Montreal is an old school port city like New York, or Philly or even Boston of course. I need to make a run to Boston to see what the lifestyle is like over there.

I already told y’all dudes to get yourself a C.S. in your lifestyle. Go to a museum or an off-Broadway play or some shit. Wear a nice button down shirt and maybe a sweater vest. Take the toothpick and gold fronts out of your mouth. While you have been busy fucking up your whole life she has been reading books that will help you learn shit that you thought you already knew. Impress your friends with your newfound intelligence.

So as I was saying, C.S. brought me to Montreal to catch a breather and experience something fresh and new. I always had love for Montreal ever since JACKIE ROBINSON came here to play for the Dodgers AA affiliate. When Montreal finally got their own team they weren’t too shabby either, word to the Hawk and the Raines man. The 1990’s Expo squad was one of the best teams ever in baseball. Word to that player’s strike in 1995.

Montreal reminded me a lot of Brooklyn. The residences are primarily low rise townhouses and the city itself is built for walking. I found Canada to be a little expensive too, but that is because I am living off my eBay sales right now. Still and all, I blame the Clintons for fucking me over with that NAFTA bullshit. There’s now way Canadien money should be on par with U.S. currency. Their shit looks wild fake.

I thought I would get my D-Nice on and photoblog some of the sights and sites I encountered up north.

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I stay repping my lifestyle. Yes, the socks are Ralph Lauren.

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C.S. and I traveled the city east, west, north and south with these magic tickets. Montreal has massively swagger jacked Paris and named their subway system the Metro.

True story is that the buses in Montreal run on time though.

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Some futuristic alien Logan’s Run shit. You don’t really get the scale of these buildings from these pictures, but my ass was totally impressed[ll]. This complex was built for the Olympics in 1972. Public architecture has been moving backwards ever since every where else. I give credit to Montreal for having the referendums and the resolve to maintain all of this shit. They do tax you in Canada like a motherfucker, but then you have the chance to avail yourself of all this shit if you are a resident.

I have never had a problem with paying for shit as long as I was represented fairly and equally for my taxation.

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The former Olympic Centre is now a state managed public fitness complex. I may have lost a few pounds just walking the grounds of this sprawling campus.

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More public architecture that inspires people to be proud and proactive. A government building with a multi-colored glass facade, evoking the principles of inclusion and transparency. What a novel idea for a government?

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The biggest difference between the French Catholics and the Roman Catholics is the fact that the French keep their winged goddesses covered up.

The Italians always seem to have a loose titty or two on a statue.

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Good for Giorgio Armani that he switched up the name of that godawful cologne. I know some Black folks that weren’t having any parts of that ‘Black Code’ bullshit.

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Option#2 public bathrooms are totally deucable.

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Shame on a nigga!
For coming into town on the day I am leaving.

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Mount Royal kept it real, but the city I belong to bears the name on my crown.

A LETTER FROM THE MANAGEMENT…

Friday, April 18th, 2008

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I have been in a real shitty mood the last several weeks. Some shit happened where my entire grip got kidnapped by my creditors. They called my shit in like when China will flex on the U.S. debt.

Except I don’t have the guns, bombs or lawyers of the U.S. government so instead my shit got straight ganked. Checks were busy bouncing on bill payments already late to begin with. Your boy’s cable got cut off. Again. Phone service deaded. The mortgage holding company was pissed off like fuck.

Even though I was certainly in dire straits for some cash money I didn’t get too down on myself. I had been to zero before and made a comeback. I stay winning because I lose so much. What I can’t afford to lose though is the love of my life. The mother to my expensive collector item Steiff Bear collection. She’s actually the step-mother, but they don’t ever treat her that way.

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If I didn’t have my own Chocolate Snowflake I would have to draw one for myself.

Here was someone reminding me that love doesn’t live in a bank account. Money is something that will never take the place of my love, but you can best believe I thanked GOD for granting me the chance to propose with an actual ring. I would give this woman my heart if her’s had only one beat left. If she and I have a daughter I will name her Faith.


Keep the faith…

This is a holiday weekend for those of us celebrating Passover. As I think of what GOD might be telling me as I stare at some uncertainty in my future is that now is the time to keep my faith. When your great-grandparents were slaves in Egypt they kept their faith that one day their great-grandchildren would be free to drink Welch’s grape soda. There’s a lot more to it, but I don’t have time to tell you the story now. For now, just keep your faith in GOD.

GOD was walking with me through SoHo last night. Even though GOD didn’t let me get inside the adidas store for the Rap-Up magazine party I still got to meet up with some friends from the site. Jaislayer from D.C. was in town on some business.

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He and his homey tried to politic their way into the adidas party along with me but we were summarily dissed. Even my dude that works for adidas couldn’t swing me inside that piece. It looked like a scene. Hennessy a/k/a Negro Evian was the beverage sponsor so I imagine this event was high on the Black Bullshit meter.

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As a matter of fact, I already know…

We ended up falling into a nice little party at Madame X on Houston Street. The drinks were quite on point and I enjoyed a few rounds of Goose and tonic. Meeting someone that has been a commenter on this site and getting drunk with them makes for a good time in itself. How about you meet one of your greatest influences earlier in the evening?

I have spoken to you folks ad nausem over the last week about RALPH BAKSHI. Seriously, if you don’t go to the screenings of ‘Heavy Traffic’ and ‘Coonskin’ tomorrow at Anthology you might consider asphyxiating yourself with a pair of your mother’s pantyhose tied to your kitchen faucet. No, really. ‘Coonskin’ will blow your fucking mind.

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RALPH BAKSHI looked just like I hoped he would. He was a warm and gregarious character and he spoke to all the people on the line like we were his friends. He even offered me the chance to read for the Brother Bear role when he films ‘Coonskin 2’ in Nevuary 3008.

RALPH BAKSHI and ERNIE PANICCIOLI are very similar characters. They are both true dodger-blue Brooklynites that grew up in the poorest precincts in this city, but they had dreams, and they had faith. Read this interview of BAKSHI in BlackBook magazine.

Ralph Bakshi on the ‘Fritz’

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RALPH BAKSHI and ERNIE P both see clearly through the well-coiffed veneer of opportunistic hustler AL SHARPTON. There is an AL SHARPTON type preacher in ‘Coonskin’ who makes his money by creating discontent in the community with no solutions or answers. Brother Rabbit deals with him in much the way he treats all of his enemies.

Brother Rabbit > Bugs Bunny.

And you know that sentence is a lot for me to admit.

I’ll say this again…

Tomorrow!

Saturday, April 19th
Anthology Film Archives
7:00 PM Heavy Traffic
9:00 PM StreetFight a/k/a Coonskin (on a restored 35mm print)
32 2nd Avenue, NYC
Tickets $8 at the door, good for one or both features.
So I will tell you

As for me, I’m good. I’m keeping the faith.

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