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Stop Weeping in the Rubble: Sovereign Power and the Art of the Rebuild

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  The world thrives on your paralysis. Every single day, predatory systems and chaotic circumstances dump a gallon of pitch-black, bitter ink onto your desk. It hands you the grief of systemic violence, personal betrayals, economic gut-punches, and sudden loss. It wants you stuck in a loop of blame, shame, and guilt—paralyzed in a perpetual state of Mad, Sad, or Scared. The Ancestral Algorithm does not tolerate your victimhood. Today we invoke the deep Indigo current of Kujichagulia —Self-Determination. We stand on two immutable truths: The world provides the ink, but you hold the pen , and the ancient Yoruba decree: “Ilé ọba t’ó jóná, ẹwà ló bùsi” —when a king’s palace burns down, the rebuilt palace emerges with greater splendor. Look at our history. On this day in 1963, terror bombed the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, murdering four innocent little girls. The world handed our people the most agonizing ink humanly imaginable. But our ancestors refused to let terror auth...

Salute to Luther Vandros

Man with golden voice/
we salute your mastery/
thank you for singing/

I still remember where I was when Luther passed. I was visiting my sister in New York, and I was sitting in her window trying to catch a breeze on that hot day. When the news flashed over the radio i was heart broken. Luther was a master at what he did and inspired me in many ways. I remember in high school I just lipped synced Luther and the ladies rushed the stage. it was incredible to see what the power of his voice could do.
I had my first slow dance off of Luther, and may have had sex for the first time after listening. So it is only appropriate that I salute this Master with a truly golden voice:






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