rootwork the rootsblog: a cyberhoodoo webspace

bush spreads lies about social security: by hubert locke

everyonce in awhile i run up on a piece
that says it so much better than i ever could
that i feel moved to just post the whole thing
my apologies for that, not comfortable w/it

i should just link to it
and might take this piece down later, ive only
done it twice i think but this one moved me

arf

friday, February 25, 2005

Bush spreads lies about Social Security

By HUBERT G. LOCKE
SPECIAL TO THE POST-INTELLIGENCER

For the first decade or so of my working life, I hardly thought about Social Security, other than as an annoying deduction from my always-inadequate paycheck.

At some point in my early 30s, it began to dawn on me that the annoying deduction was actually something I was slowly but steadily accumulating toward retirement -- a destiny that seemed, at the time, eons away. I was almost 40 when my parents retired and I began to realize how Social Security actually works -- that my payroll deductions helped pay for the Social Security checks my mom and dad received each month.

From that point on, until their deaths, I looked at my Social Security deductions with considerable pride -- feeling that I was, in a tangible way, helping to take care of my parents in much the same way that now one of my daughters (and the other when she finishes school and gets a job) contributes, through payroll deductions, to the Social Security checks I now receive.

My maternal grandmother, who worked her entire life as a domestic, lived with our family until her death. That was the way our society took care of its aged before Social Security. In my family's case, during the Depression, it meant a divided household for a number of months -- my grandmother, mom and I living in a rented room while my father slept on the sofa in his older brother's home. It was the only financial arrangement my dad could afford.

For most Americans, such experiences are now part of the past, thanks to a system put in place in the early years of the New Deal. It has served the nation and its citizens well for almost 70 years. But now comes a president with a penchant for lying to the American public who tells us this system is on the verge of bankruptcy. He proposes that citizens invest in the stock market as an alternative way to save for their retirement.

President Bush's party has savaged the Social Security system since its inception. Alf Landon, the Republican who ran against Roosevelt in 1936, called Social Security "a cruel hoax" on the American people. Barry Goldwater wanted to repeal the legislation that created the system while Ronald Reagan called Social Security a program that is a "sure loser" and one that would worsen, rather than lessen, the hazards of age.

Social Security was devised as a program that calls on Americans to take care of one another; each generation of workers pays taxes that support an earlier generation of retirees. The very idea of people taking care of one another -- and of taxing citizens in order to do so -- is what the free-market, self-reliant throng detests; it smacks to them of socialism.

And that's why they -- led by Bush -- blatantly spread falsehoods about a program that marks the difference between sustenance and abject poverty for millions of elderly Americans.

The facts are that, for at least another decade, Social Security will continue to take in far more money than it pays out. After that, it will have to draw on its reserves of more than one and a half trillion dollars. If nothing is done, these reserves -- the Social Security trust fund -- will be exhausted somewhere between 2042 and 2050. After that, the system would be able to pay out about 70 percent of scheduled benefits.

This is not a system that is either "in crisis" or bankrupt. It is a system that needs adjusting by any one of -- or a combination -- of several, relatively painless alternatives: raising the ceiling on income taxed for Social Security (currently set at $90,000) or a slight increase in the retirement age that takes into account the much greater longevity rate that Americans now enjoy and can be expected to, in the future.

One thing is for certain. The battle over Social Security is where the Democratic Party better draw a clear line in the political sand. It had best be prepared to obstruct, filibuster and do everything else within reach to drive a stake through the heart of the obscene White House plan to "privatize" Social Security.

If the Democrats muff this one, the party can forget about its future -- it will neither have nor deserve one.

Hubert G. Locke, Seattle, is a retired professor and former dean of the Daniel J. Evans Graduate School of Public Affairs at the University of Washington.

such a long way to go

okay, so now jafari is prime minister
lets look at the facts:

9 years exile in iran
ran on ayatollah sistanis slate
heads oldest islamic party
walked out on transitional deliberations
because they would not impose islam as
sole source of the law

both the parties of this alliance, jafaris dawa party
and the supreme council for the islamic revolution in iraq
are considered iranian fronts by some iraqi/us commentators
with major funding and support from iran

jafari says he is moderate on the issue of islamist government
but thats what ayatollah khomeini said too
until the shah fell and he was in charge
then it was all of a sudden velayat-e-faqih,
rule of the mullahs

and as for the neocon agenda of military bases and influence jafari says forget that:
"when there is a self-sufficiency regarding security, then the existence of foreign forces in Iraq, be they in the form of individual troops or in the form of military bases, will not be justified,"

ie as soon as you through fighting our wars and suppressing the sunni for us
you got to go

for this we have spent over 1400 american lives and countless iraqi ones (to date)
for this we have spent hundreds of billions of dollars and counting
for this we have alienated all our friends and emboldened our enemies

when will we wake up from this nightmare

when it was just neocons trying to erase evolution from the textbooks
they were a joke, but now this joke is costing us lives and resources
and it is no longer funny

social security is not the only security they have attempted to take away

and i was thinking too this morning
whatever happened to the sudan and haiti
they seem to have fallen off the map lately

hard to keep up with old crises when new ones are constantly flaring up
ima have to hunt down the latest info and try to keep them in the public eye
but i find myself reluctant to do so
i assume its still status quo, which is no good for the hometeam

sometimes its hard not to despair

i stopped by this gas station in the hood the other night
nice little place, clean, inviting, inexpensive gas, open late
i was thinking oh how fortunate since my gas gauge was in the red
went inside and there were these two arabs
doing business

and i found myself resenting and admiring them at the same time
thought about how they have gone into all these little corner stores
in the hood and made them work for them

and its like they are fearless, running these little corner shops in the hood
that blackfolk just wont do, for a variety of reasons, mostly danger and slim profits
blackfolk with a little ambition dont want to run no corner store
they want to be druglords or celebrity millionaires (sports/rap/etc)

or run microsoft

but just like the jews before them
the arabs are making these little stores work for them
and when they make their money they will move on
to bigger and better things and leave the little corner stores
to the next ambitious set of immigrants

dude was polite and efficient, gave good service
and i had to give respect where respect was due

but as i was pulling away (tankfull) i thought about the sudan and the arab line
where blackfolk are holding against the ongoing islamic conquest of africa
and i thought about how the arabs are cleaning our clocks in our own neighborhoods
and i thought about the situation in the sudan and mauritania and other places in
africa where the arabs are still slavemasters - often murdering slavemasters

and places where the arabs or the indians or whatever are the commercial forces
even among my own tribe, the slickest most sophisticated blacks on the planet

and i thought if the blacks of the sudan are as weak as we are
no wonder they getting their clocks cleaned
no wonder they getting their asses kicked

man i just dont know what to do about black weakness
folk want to blame everybody for our condition but everywhere in the world
that you got blackfolk they are on the bottom of their respective society, everywhere
apparently without exception

we cant blame everywhere on nobody but ourselves
somehow someway we must transform into strengths the weaknesses that have
crippled us in global competition

i call myself working with the tribal soul
because we have to be transformed as a people
anything else is a joke  - to be overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of our condition

but i will give blackfolk a mission greater than their adversity
or my name aint rickydoc flowers

i guess in the meantime i will find out whats happening in haiti
and the sudan - depressing though it will be

(just went to kristoffs column in todays nytimes, he has what he calls genocide photos taken by african union monitors including:

a little boy shot in darfur
a man with a leg wound who couldnt run fast enuf
one man who almost made it into the bushes and
the skeleton of a woman, hands still bound, whose clothes were removed for purposes of rape)

o this will never do
i simply will not have it

we cant afford to come up off the pressure nowhere
in the blackworld that blackpeople are suffering
human or natural, kkk or aids, externally or self imposed
we got to stay on it - full court press

saw that special on slavery a couple of days ago
they had my boy david walker in there (but not harriet?)
interesting how they used individual voices and reenactors
to bring our story to life

to remind us that
we have come such a long such a long long way
but we still got so very far to go

hanging tough

word
by rickydoc flowers

the hoodoo book of flowers: part 0: outline

okay the latest outline draft of
the hoodoo book of flowers
the great black book of generations

a book of changes
a book of divination

a work in progress

7 cowries on a string
2 open throws & 1 hidden (the hoodoo throw)

rough outline that will revise itself as work progress
but now that i have a functional draft of an outline
i will do the first segment next - legbas gift

gon use a lot of the sacred tarot of the brotherhood of life
and the wilheim translation of the iching
the structure of entries comes from the craft of power by r.l. siu

the introductory epigram is by ras hui

"thats what love, cooperation and unity are in a society
a comforter, im a comforter for my people so i have
great dominion and power, glory and authority
but i use my discretion and my people love i
because i heal their afflictions"

o o o o o o o - legbas gift: the prophets call
(all bets off - move w/caution)

1st movement: invocation
1    x o o o o o o

1    x o o o o o o    1:1:invocation:  will
2    x x o o o o o    1:2:invocation:  knowledge
3    x x x o o o o    1:3:invocation:  action
4    x x x x o o o    1:4:invocation:  manifestation
5    x x x x x o o    1:5:invocation:  inspiration
6    x x x x x x o    1:6:invocation:  universal law
7    x x x x x x x    1:7:invocation:  trial

2nd movement: inittiation:
2    x x o o o o o

8    x o o o o o o    2:1:initiation: sacrifice
9    x x o o o o o    2:2:initiation: fortitude
10    x x x o o o o    2:3:initiation: defeat
11    x x x x o o o    2:4:initiation: finesse
12    x x x x x o o    2:5:initiation: victory
13    x x x x x x o    2:6:initiation:  transformation
14    x x x x x x x    2:7:initiaton:  regeneration

3rd movement: life
3    x x x o o o o

15    x o o o o o o    3:1:life: birth
16    x x o o o o o    3:2:life: youth
17    x x x o o o o    3:3:life: relationships
18    x x x x o o o    3:4:life: work
19    x x x x x o o    3:5:life: mating
20    x x x x x x o    3:6:life: growth
21    x x x x x x x    3:7:life:  maturity

4th movement: empowerment
4    x x x x o o o

22    x o o o o o o    4:1:empowerment: vitality
23    x x o o o o o    4:2:empowerment: preparation
24    x x x o o o o    4:3:empowerment: game
25    x x x x o o o    4:4:empowerment: union
26    x x x x x o o    4:5:empowerment: struggle
27    x x x x x x o    4:6:empowerment: service
28    x x x x x x x    4:7:empowerment: power

5th movement: illumination
5    x x x x x o o

29    x o o o o o o    5:1:illumination: vision
30    x x o o o o o    5:2:illumination: journeys
31    x x x o o o o    5:3:illumination: challenges
32    x x x x o o o    5:4:illumination: crossroads
33    x x x x x o o    5:5:illumination: demonology
34    x x x x x x o    5:6:Illumination: mastery
35    x x x x x x x    5:7:illumination: transformation

6th movement: revelation
6    x x x x x x o

36    x o o o o o o    6:1:revelations:  spiritvision
37    x x o o o o o    6:2:revelations:  wisdom
38    x x x o o o o    6:3:revelations:  connections
39    x x x x o o o    6.4:revelations:  magic
40    x x x x x o o     6:5:revelations:  sanctification
41    x x x x x x o    6:6:revalations:  transcendence
42    x x x x x x x    6:7:revalations:  highergrounds

7th movement: grace
7    x x x x x x x   

43    x o o o o o o    7:1:grace:  serenity
44    x x o o o o o    7:2:grace:  creation
45    x x x o o o o    7:3:grace:  celebration
46    x x x x o o o    7:4:grace:  guidance
47    x x x x x o o    7:5:grace:  death
48    x x x x x x o    7:6:grace:  rebirth
49    x x x x x x x    7:7:grace:  godhead

tankaras tale as told by rickydoc flowers

back in the day there was a wandering djeli from segu. he is tankara of the bamana, young and strong and incapable of taking life too seriously for he is yet undefeated. he has come to timbuktu to seek his fortune and perhaps an appointment to a great and noble family.

since he left segu he has traveled among the fulani and the malinke, the fula and the taureg, and here in timbuktu he has known nupe and wolof and dinka, arabs and the songhai who were the city.  this very last moon he met an albino colored man who claimed to come from a faraway tribe called the portugee.  tankara had never heard of such a tribe but then neither had he seen such a man.  since leaving segu he has seen much that would astound the bamana but nothing like timbuktu.  surely this is the crossroads of the world.

he had not been in the city long but that he made himself at home.  he spent his days wandering through the marketplace and listening to the scholars at the university of sankore, often in languages he did not as yet know but whose wordsong he nevertheless enjoyed. for he is a djeli of segu and trained in the bardic schools of wagadougou and the music of words are his lifeblood.

he spent his days playing for money, food and lodging, and when he plays his ngoni all who hear listen, for his fingers knew the magic of the strings and he himself the tales of many peoples and instinctively knew which tale the moment required

of the morning in question he had spent most of it at the university until hungry for food and binni he headed for the marketplace.  making his way through the crowded streets of timbuktu, he thinking binni. she whose voice was sweeter than that of his ngoni, whose laugh was like no other.  she would be in the marketplace now, selling dates with her mother

and where binni was, there would be tankara of segu.  she is the best of what he has found in timbuktu.

while making his way through the crowded little streets, a melon rolls up to his sandled foot.  jostled by crowds and a mounted taureg he snatched it up before it could be damaged and found himself the amusement of an elder squatted against a sandstone wall.

the watcher is draped in the whiterobes of the desert people, and what little skin exposed is as deeply wrinkled as the forests of wagadougou.  the elder beckons

here grandfather, your melon did not get far.

thank you young djeli, here, i will share it with you.

no thank you grandfather replied tankara, i have, he thought, a far more succulent fruit in mind.

nevertheless you will share this one with me.

neither attitude nor tone invite argument and tankara noticed then the wide diviners tray.  the kola nuts inside.  of course thought tankara of segu, just my luck.  the old man is a fikela.  a master of the mystical sciences.

tankara has in his shortlife found it uncomfortable to be of interest to the fikela.  yet he warily resigns himself to a few moments of mystery and squats

that is a beautiful instrument, says the elder. he is far too amused and tankara even more wary.  nothing good can come of this. but of his ngoni he is inordinately proud.  he caresses his strings ever so lightly and a faint melodic grace lingers in the stolid air of timbuktu.  it is an old and ancient instrument and adorned with the 101 talismans that whisper with his every movement

my mothers brother is himself a fikela says tankara, he gave me this ngoni when i became myself a djeli, as was my father before me and his father before him.  my father is the djeli of da monzon of segu.

and you young djeli, the fikela broke open the melon, why do you not wait to sit in your fathers place.

tankara laughs falsely and dusts at sand on his sandals, my ngoni has been cursed o fikela, it speaks only truth. 

his voice cracks between the calls of pride and regret.  some would say it has been blessed.  he accepts a bit of melon, bites into it and wipes succulent red juices from his chin.

and so i am in timbuktu, where i go to perform in the marketplace. perhaps i will earn enough to eat well this evening. perhaps not.  but i do not know what my ngoni will say when i play and i prefer to work for those whose offense is less fatal.

tankara rises to his feet and dusts himself off, and now i must go honored one.

thank you for returning my melon young djeli. may i do you a favor in return?

and what is that grandfather

a new song perhaps

the gifts of a fikela are always suspect.  yet a song is a song.  a mystical one even more so.  once again tankara of segu squats beside the old fikela, and of what will this song be, grandfather?

you tell me young djeli, what is it that you are looking for in timbuktu.

tankara does not have to think long upon the answer.  i have come to timbuktu seeking moments of great import.  i must sing songs so great the truth will not hurt me.

moments of great import are rarely found sitting in the marketsquare playing for melons.

but this is timbuktu grandfather, its market is like no other.

yet timbuktu is not the world, of what will you sing, you who know so little.

tankara is offended.  i am tankara of segu and it is meant that i be a great djeli. it is then only fitting that i sing of greatness.  and that greatness i will find in timbuktu.  if you have a song give it to me, if not i will leave.

then im afraid you must go young djeli. perhaps i was mistaken and this song is not for you.

tankara rose and dusted himself off.   thank you for the melon grandfather.  his words are polite but his heart is not.  vastly irritated, he turned away and promptly walked into the hairy side of a passing camel.

watch yourself young bambara, laughed a big wolof in desertrobes and crossed bandoleers.  dont spook my camels, boy.

the wolof is at the head of a caravan preparing to launch itself into the desert.  it is a large caravan of many camels.

tankara backed off and muttered an apology. the wolof stopped and looked him over while the rest of the caravan ambled by.  tell me young bambara, asked the wolof, can you play that ngoni, are you any good, do you know any of the great journey songs

i am tankara of segu and my ngoni speaks only truth.

the wolof laughed at that. truth is of little use to a merchant tankara of segu. however the truth might occasionally offer some entertainment for we have a long way to go.  we will make it worth your while to travel with us.

and where do you go asked tankara of segu. the wolof laughed again, so satisfied a sound that heads were raised throughout the market and his camel danced with nervous excitement.  we are going, young bambara, to the edge of the world.

it is through travel that a djeli learns the ways of things. it is through travel that a djeli grows into power. behind him tankara can feel the eyes of the fikela.

it was then that highjohn saw her in the crowd of beale streeters. their eyes meet and she laughs  nervously, warily, at what she sees and he can only stare as the sun tangles itself in her soul and his words stumble and leave while beale street fades and all he can see is she. he barely notes the man beside her for she has spun his world and this story no longer works. he has told this story many times. tankara of segu follows a caravan to the edge of the world. it is there that he learns his ngoni's truth is not always his own.

but then tankara of segu must leave a woman whose laughter is also a sound like no other.  how then will he end this tale.  beale streeters shift uneasily as tucept jubilation highjohn stands lost in thought. 

perhaps tankara would not leave.  perhaps he would stay in timbuktu and they would build a booth in the marketplace.  perhaps she too would like to see the edge of the world.  perhaps both.  or neither.  would she say yes, would she say no.  would they be happy or full of regret.  perhaps she is but a summer best treasured in memory.  perhaps he would in this tale sing the sad and solitary song that is tankara of timbuktu

or would their love be legend

hangingtough

i once met arthur miller
when rest for the weary came out
and it looked like I was going to get some play
I was invited to a party being thrown by john irving

there was a big pen meeting in nyc at the time
and all these bigdogs at the party, grass, atwood, barthelme, etc etc

and there I was standing there trying to act like i
belonged when this tall lean guy comes up to me
and says do I know you, you look familiar

I say arthur flowers and he says im an arthur too - arthur miller
mr cool blows it, ‘the arthur miller?' i say with wide eyed enthusiasm

he laughed, he was gracious about it
spent a little time trying to make me feel
at ease

ah the hopes and dreams of youth
like most middleaged folk i feel like
i havent lived up to my youthful potential
but hey the game aint over yet

that’s the way i feel about the demos electing dean
as their party chief, that’s exciting, kinda scary too
cause no telling what dean gon do but we know
hes gon do something and that he aint gon try to
be republican light and let bush doublespeak w/o
calling him on it

its showtime

in his acceptance speech he called the democrats the
party of fiscal responsibility and that its become clear that
"americans cannot trust republicans with their money."
said bushs social security plan would extract security from
and pile debt upon future generations

said the bush admin doesnt care about security, the demos were the ones
who pushed for the homeland security dept, pushed to make airlines safer
and demanded reform of the intelligence community
all initiatives that bush resisted until he saw the american people
would not let him avoid them

its all about who has control of the narrative and
in dean we got somebody who is not afraid to speak truth to the people
whereas its amazing how media has rolled over and played dead for bush

and whose going to speak truth about iraq
we have spent american lives and dollars
to bring about another wouldbe shiite theocracy
next door to bushs latest great satan - iran
what next in this farce

they gon tell us everything is alright and thats what
they planned all along

one piece of good piece of news is that
bush is having trouble selling his ownership society (and killing off social security)
he calls himself avoiding the painful details until hes sold the american people
on the necessity for killing social security but hes been having trouble
making it stick

no wonder with explanations like the one he gave in tampa recently:

"because the - all which is on the table begins to address the big cost drivers; for example, how benefits are calculate for example, is on the table, whether or not benefits rise based upon wage increases or price increases.  theres a series of parts of the formula that are being considered. and when you couple that, those different cost drivers, affecting those - changing those with personal accounts, the idea is to get what has been promised like likely to be - or closer delivered to what has been promised.  does that make any sense to you"

well, no actually it doesnt
thank god

okay im outta here
bush is working hard on his game
i got to work harder on mine

still trying to balance out the time investment on rootsblog
dont get the kind of response i got when i started it
seem to be declining rather than growing
like i never really found the groove for this thing

or maybe its just that i have stopped trying to please
anybody but myself

i think of these posts now like i think of my readings
whenever i give a presentation i always try to say something real
doesnt matter if anybody comes out or not

and when i do a post i feel like it should be essential
this one does not feel essential
i will refine it over the week and hope it starts singing

cause if its one thing i do not do
i do not abandon a literary project

i am a proud member of the line of o killens
and folk like arthur miller - the arthur miller
and this literary thing, i was taught that it is a sacred calling

and the only thing fatal in this business
is giving up

rickydoc signing out
and hanging tough 

arf

and shine swam on

all my blackhistory month gigs
in the space of a weekend - ohwell
(plenty of nonpaying community service ones but they dont count)

got invited downhome by beverly bonds
african american studies program at
the university of memphis

nice to feel treasured by the hometeam
thats part of the dream
they treated me real nice too, she & hope went above & beyond

beverly is oldschool memphis and her field of interest is 19th century memphis
she recently put out a work - memphis in black and white
on historical memphis that gave me a lot of clarity
for my memphis historicals in rest for the weary
and in a breakfast conversation she rectified 1 potentially fatal misconception

it was nice being home, spent some time w/my mama and sister
did a little research on rest, life is good
didnt have much of a crowd though, me and memphis we just dont click
me and my times aint clicked, my vision just dont resonate
i feel like i should get much more play than i do
but what else is new, hometown prophets and all that
i had a good time nevertheless

hope jacked me up on my nationalism
said at my progressive best i spoke for her and progressive whitefolk
and everybody on the planet
but so often made her feel excluded when i do my black strategist thing

i told her im aware of it and i struggle with that
thats one of my standing tensions
not much i can do about it
i am too deeply in the tradition to be anything but
most primarily a black voice speaking to and for blackpeople

but i am conscious of the need to also manifest
as a progressive voice of humanity

talking to blackfolk - talking to the world
two separate and very distinct dialogues
world including black brown white yellow all

most of my bush commentary falls under this rubric
i notice bushs new budget trying to kill off social programs
which has been the agenda all along

they arent trying to fix social security, they are trying to kill it
along with any other new deal social compact they can get their hands on
and this so called budget of his reflects that desire

taxcuts for the rich not only transfer money up but they starve the governments
ability to fulfill its social responsibilities - and as for the poor and the middleclass
let them eat cake

i can only hope that he has overextended himself and the great majority
will see him for what he is and every chance i get ima speak on it

often the two voices converge
for instance i notice that the naacp has refused to cooperate with the irs audit
attempting to intimidate and punish them for criticizing bush

i am so very proud of them for defying the beast

im in the trenches myself on social security
i was born in 1950 so im right on the cusp of bushs agenda
he calls himself trying to reassure and nuetralize older & implacable
opponents of his plan by cutting it off at 55

i wonder if i would be so adament had i not come in under the 55 cutoff
but then i saw some older guy on tv saying its not about him
its about looking out for everybody - the 'we' versus the 'me' that bush believes in

had all this on my mind when i
left memphis going to univ of penn in state college - elaine richardson, my
sister in struggle, invited me down to be part of their african american read in
(i appreciated both them gigs)

had a good time there - me and my boy keith gilyard kicked back
me and gilyard go all the way back and it was good
to reason with him into the wee hours of the morning

i told him his boy adam banks was shaking it up here at syracuse
(adam is one of keiths young turks trained up at penn)

adam did this class last semester that was half on campus
and half at the groove restaurant in the hood

did it on soul music of the 70s,
it was so successful he did it again this semester,
african american liberation rhetoric this time

1st class had 30 odd engaged folk from community and schoolhouse
debating liberation rhetoric
it was wonderful - its like adam forging a new pedagogical paradigm up in here

told him i would have to give keith a good report on him and so i did

then keith showed me his john o killens files and gave me an update
hes doing this massive bio on john o and been getting grief
trying to get to sources like ossie before they die off

we talked about our girl safiya henderson holmes, who graduated a couple of years ago
and how him and safiya (and toby) brought me in out of the cold for the syracuse gig

talked about how keith did his underground railroad thing and freed me
when i first got here by telling me not to de ethnicize myself
like so many blackfolk do when they come into the academy

he told me they brought you here to be a black voice,
they got plenty experts on hemmingway and foucoult
dont come in here trying out outfoucoult these folk cause they really love foucoult
whereas you just trying to prove something

you do what you do, what you live and love - afroam lit on the blackhand side
and so i did, without apology or reservation - and so i am strong in what i do
might have something new to add to the dialogue

keith also showed me some citations and bios on me that i knew nothing of
(he always trying to convince me to keep the faith regarding my literary value)
one bio entry said something along the lines of:
'though not on a level with john edgar wideman and ernest gaines
flowers work is important because blah de blah de blah. . .'

basically saying hes impo enuf to mention but hes not considered a 1st string writer
(or thinker either i guess)

unfortunately i cant argue with that and was pleased to see that at least i had a listing
and if i must be declared lacking they set the bar pretty high w/wideman and gaines

of course keith included me in his recent anthology
penquins african american literature

and showed me a recent work on black novelists that he tried to get to include me
but dude kept telling him i was too 2nd string

it was an illuminating conversation
and all the more motivation to get rest for the weary done
(call me 2nd string, by god ima show them all)

though once again the attendance was light
my performance was good, came up with this new lick that i put on shine

i tell shine, right, and i get to the point where the shark comes up
while shine swimming away from the wreck and i have the shark go:

hmm . . . some dark meat, . . .might be tasty . . . .
i aint had me no dark meat since the middle passage (big gasp from audience here)

that middlepassage dark meat so fresh it jump off the boat right into your mouth
oh yeah, i think ima get me some of that. . . might be tasty

then the shark say yo shine, wait up man, i want to talk to you
got me some privititized social security accounts for you shine

shine look over his shoulder and shine say o hell naw
you must think i just got off the boat
you keep your little privitized social security accounts

and shine swam on

and when the news of the great titanic reached new york city
shine was up in harlem  . . eating a shark sammich

tasty too

singing to the choir

hello all
been sporadic with the rootsblog lately

and am always it seems pondering how
to use it most effectively

of course my greatest fear is still
that i sing to a choir of one - myself
but since im clearly determined to sing
the question remains of what shall i sing
and how shall i do it

im thinking lately that im going to do shorts online
short stories  (because as always i assume the public commitment
to do so will drive me to actually do so)

and im feeling behind on my shorts production
since ima be trying to do these online ima try to hit
it real tight, micro flash

right now probably be stuff extracted from rest for the weary

cause even now i just cant imagine taking time out of my novel pursuit
to write short stories, so right now all these 'shorts' will be excerpted
and finessed from rest
or stuff designed to be of benefit to rest

another point im noticing is that most of my readership
comes not from return folk, which is what i crave
but from folk who come through search engines
often from the most preposterous permutations

anybody searching for some fundamentalist church group
having something to do with the phrase 'higher ground'
will get rootsblog

its been real interesting seeing what search engines send my way
but now what im thinking is forget my obsession with pleasing the public
and get traffic to my rootsblog

im going to concentrate on getting my body of work online
the industry and the literary world treat me funny and i dont get no play
as a contemporary literary force and that irks me

but im seeing something happening with this net and using the net as a literary instrument
that i think im one of the few literary players trying to play this net 21st century style
ideological orchestration and literary game

also considering adopting, as part of doing shorts as online hoodoo storyteller, adopting more of an overt hoodoo voice, rickydoc the rootdoctor riffing in a straight up hoodoo mode and playing hoodoo trickster games with the text, im not quite sure what im saying here but something about adopting a more overt hoodoo worker voice, which doesnt make it any clearer does it, i guess if its not clear to me i cant make it clear to you

but i feel something of his sort coming on
im a little leery of trying stuff too out there on rootsblog
but then again its my nature (and my training) as a literary man to
leap off the cliff and trust my literary instinct
that it was the thing to do

so i think im going to concentrate less on up to date commentary and more
for awhile on getting a representative body of work online

this gets back to projects:

rickydocs online manual of hoodooism
the hoodoo book of flowers
and now a book of shorts i will call the hoodoo tales

part of the problem i got with working shorts online is that you gon see me sweat
i got to put up with questionable work online for everybody to see and think i dont
know what im doing as a writer

but eventually i will get to point where i can knock
off these hoodoo shorts one or two a week and that ability will grow over the years
until i am delivering fine hoodoo storyworks as an automatic thing

and i think that i will put mojo rising on line too
ive got a lot of it on rootwork but for some reason
rootsblog gets the play

i guess cause of the up to date commentary
which actually kind of messes with this whole idea doesnt it
i guess i got to try to do both, its the up to date commentary that
gives rootsblog its life

okay im feeling like i should just abandon this post (and weblog too)
everything i think to do with this thing leads to more time expenditure

the one thing of which i have none to spare

none, not one hour not one minute not one second

suffice it to say ima do whatever i said i was gon do in this post
i dont know when i will have the time to do so but its gon get done

i am so sick of this weblog
i would really like to abandon this thing but once you put a true move in play
you dont never quit, thats not allowed, you play it till you die

im outta here

arf