Haiti is still a death bed and the destruction of that country has not been historically matched, while little girls are selling their bodies for shelter underneath sheets. And I’m still involved with discussions about “consciousness” and the moral code that the “conscious” should adhere to. Schools are being shut down throughout the country in major cities, and yet, the discussion is on morals. I don’t know how often I will be brought to the table of the enlightened. I’m not sure if I will always be welcomed there. My shoes might not be shiny enough. My hair might not be crisp enough. My shirt might not be sewn at the correct angle. Whatever.
I don’t have the energy to spend on the rituals and practices of those who believe that their understanding is the supreme understanding. I didn’t come into knowledge, knowledge came into me. It dropped its bags on the steps of my temple and kicked its feet up on the couch. It didn’t ask me to do anything. It just spoke and pointed. It didn’t ask me to change my diet. It just showed me the effects of what I was consuming. It didn’t tell me to leave anyone alone, it simply directed my attention towards certain behaviors and their ultimate outcome. Wisdom saw knowledge and they started to copulate on my couch. They gave birth to a child and named the child understanding. I didn’t judge them, and they didn’t judge me.
The discussion is standards. And while the rest of the world is dealing with falling empires and collapsing buildings, black people in the US would rather argue about standards of behavior. While city after city is closing down schools in the black community, we would rather point out who is a coon and who is not. How long will this practice of intellectual classism prolong?
I was in the middle of a call.
I was shocked.
I was slightly appalled.
One brother, a comedian here in St. Louis made some jokes about a brother he went to school with. The brother, as I was told, was laughing. After the comedian commenced his act, he was struck with a vehement blow to the jaw. He was hospitalized. The former classmate threw the punch. The comedian’s jaw has been wired up. What do YOU think will happen next?
I don’t live that life. I don’t live the life of one who can continue to deal with petty disputes. I live the life of one who has to deal with daily drama. Situations that define themselves. I deal with life. I deal with black life. I can’t afford to waste my time waxing philosophically because someone needs to have their back rubbed. I have one woman. And she gets all my niceties. I would love to be able to coax everyone…but I cannot. My world is warzone, my friends are inmates, and most of them were dead wrong…
Does that make me less aware? Does that revoke my membership in the “conscious” club? If so, I’m very willing to accept that reality…I travel light…not your opinion of it…