I apologize or the delay, but I’ve put off posting with the hopes of having another interview/article for you. Hopefully I will have it next week, and at the latest the week after. The next theme will have something to do with hustling. Legal hustling… I know a dude name Paul aka Pook (http://www.pookd.com/). I met this dude almost 3 years ago. He was in a rap group, now he’s solo and long story short I watched dude hustle and build a buzz for himself which has lead to parts in movies, video game soundtracks- the dude is just everywhere. And for me personally it’s inspiring to see someone work hard and have their efforts pay off (so this is for all yawl hustling 9 to 5, full-time students, anybody on a grind with their eyes on a prize) Paul is also the son of a Panther, and he has a Masters degree in psychology… WTF? A rapper with with a Masters?!?!?!! So be on the look out for that.

I’ve also been working on a short story the last couple of weeks that I’m really excited about. It’s my baby right now and hopefully I can deliver it to you guys soon. It’s totally fiction! I started writing it as I was reading Stephen King’s “on writing.” It felt like a waste reading a book on writing and not actually doing any myself. I sat down with a thought… like really one sentence and now I’m about 2500 words deep (not finished); which isn’t a lot but enough to submit to magazines. This is exciting for two reasons. First I’m writing. Second, I’m also starting to look at the market a little. I just subscribed to Writers digest (Stephen recommended that) and I read in the book that Playboy magazine publishes fiction… so now I have an excuse to go and buy a Playboy magazine (for the articles of course).

That’s whats up!

We talk about racism like it’s a contagious disease; a parasite that consumes the brain and uses the human body as its shell. It has no boundaries. It infects whole families, whole cities, states, countries, and worlds. Although its existence can be found ingrained within each generation, its origins have yet to be identified. We relieve ourselves of all responsibility (pointing at the shadow rather than the reflection). Racism might as well be useable in court along side the insanity plea. Does Racism exist in America? Yes, it exists in the same form it did 200 years ago- within all of us.

My grandmother is a god fearing southern women. She taught me never to depend on anyone, “black or white.” However, when she taught me that, she also taught me something else. As a black man I had to work twice as hard as anyone else; I was to give no other reason for anyone to hold anything against me. In elementary school, if I didn’t get a good grade, the question was “what color is the teacher?” If he was black, he had a problem with seeing black people smarter than him (crabs in a bucket). If he was white, it was because he hated to see a black boy out shine the other white classmates. To grandma’s credit I have a work ethic that doesn’t expect anything from anyone no matter what race you are (what she taught me). However, later in life when my fate somewhat rested in the hands of another, I am reminded of my grandmothers words (I can’t help but think, “I didn’t get that job simply because I’m black?”).

I don’t believe my grandmother was racist for telling me not to expect anything from anyone, black or white. She was teaching me what she knew from her experiences. It’s human nature to teach your children what you know, so that they do not repeat the same mistakes as you. It’s a lesson in trial and error passed on from one generation to another. The question is how do I pass on the same lesson to my child without the racist connotations? I believe my grandmother could have taught me the same lesson and left race out of it. She could have told me to not expect anything from anyone and always work 150%, leaving out the black and white stuff. When something didn’t go my way, it could have been because that’s life, instead of “was he white?”

Whether or not racism exists in America is an age-old question. We can’t put our finger on it, but we know it’s there. Its’ a question my ancestors could have asked while working cotton fields. “Do you think massa’ is racist?” That question has been passed from one generation to another. We (Black, White, Hispanic, Arab, etc.) can keep passing on the same lessons to our children, asking them the same questions spreading the disease instead of trying to find a cure, but sooner or later we have to ask, what do we do about it?

“Our men and women in uniform are making sacrifices,” President Bush proclaimed during his annual State of the Union speech. “They’re “showing a sense of duty stronger than all fear.”

Friday, December 23 Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfield announced the first reduction of troops in Iraq since the summer of 2004. However, two days later Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman General Peter Pace warned, “The enemy has a vote in this, and if they were to cause some kind of problems that required more troops… in that case, you could see troop levels go up.”

As of Friday, January 27 USA Today reports the United States death toll in Iraq is 2,235. As we approach the three-year anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, not many civilians know the actual death toll, or let alone the number serving. After three years it’s easy to mistake Jessica Lynch for Lynndie England. Americans' attention spans are short, and for the Bush Administration it’s been a double edge sword. While citizens have lost interest in names faces, and claims of victory, they have also lost interest and faith in the progress of the war.

The announcement of a troop reduction may pacify some of the nations worries, however a troop reduction doesn’t do much for the service members that already know the cost of war, or those that are about to learn.

Army Specialist Matthew Carter was activated just two weeks before the announcement of the planned troop reduction with only nine months left on his contract. “I was devastated,” Matt exhales. His three-year relationship with his best friend and first love, Connie Liberto, had just ended. He wasn’t quite over it; however he was trying to move on with his life. He had planned to re-enroll at Mt. San Antonio Community College (Mt. Sac) in Walnut, California, majoring in Music. A bank teller by day for Washington Mutual, he works as a construction equipment repair man one weekend a month.

Just an hour after President Bush’s State of the Union speech, Carter shows no interest in the politics of war. He didn’t see nor did he know it was airing. While he respects everyone’s opinion he insist that no one knows how it is to be a soldier unless their enlisted.

“Whenever anything political comes on TV... like the news, I change the channel,” Carter admits.

Carter’s friends call him Matt. They describe as humble and quiet, yet outgoing. He graduated from Duarte High School. Duarte is a small suburb located at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains. City welcome signs dub it the “City of Hope.” Carter has lived with his grandmother, Mayor Pro Tem Lois Gaston, since his junior year of high school. Gaston has served as a city council woman for the last 10 years as well as in various church positions and on foundation boards including the Foothill Unity Center. His biological mother has lived in Colorado since 1995, after accepting a job offer with MCI WorldCom. His stepfather is a retired army sergeant. And his biological father struggles with alcohol abuse.

Carter never discussed his decision to enlist with his family. Although he excelled in sports throughout high school, during his first semester at Mt. Sac he grew tired of sports and dropped out before the season even started. Not sure what he wanted to do, he just so happened to skip class one day when he was approached on campus by a recruiter for the US Army. “Sports was sort of my ticket, but I just didn’t want to do it anymore… at the time it just seemed like something to do.” He was determined to prove to his family and himself that he was doing something with his life.

His family didn’t approve of him enlisting, but understood his reasons. Today, his dad worries, while his mother is comforted in Colorado by his stepfather. “He was in the army,” Matt explains, “so he knows how it is… he can keep her calm.” Asked whether he regrets enlisting, he’s quick to answer yes. However, he elaborates, “No matter what I think about what goes on in the military, the training I got… I think every man should receive.” Boot Camp energized him, but after returning home, it wasn’t long before the one weekend a month he had to report to duty became a nuisance.

Carter is scheduled to leave in April. There is no specific date set. Once a midnight marauder, creating music beats on his keyboard late into the night, now it’s work and partying. He insist, the new years resolution he made to cut back on the partying, has only taken a back seat until he leaves. His alcohol consumption has risen and the fear that once motivated him to enlist haunts him. “I never wanted to end up like my dad,” he confesses.

The anticipation has also made the break up with his girlfriend that much harder to get over. Iraq has become a rebound getaway. “It would be easier if I had something at home while I was over there to come back too,” he admits. He thinks in the same terms when considering the fact that he may not return. Although he realizes he has the support of many friends as well as family, the fact that he’s lost his best friend echoes through everything he has to consider before and after his tour, including the extra compensation he’ll receive from being on active duty. He can’t imagine the money serving a purpose for just himself. Finishing school is the first and only thing on his list when he returns.

He try’s not to worry too much about having to leave. “I’m just ready to go,” he confesses, “I don’t even want people to worry about me. Just keep ya heads up.” He has no plans to re-enlist, however when asked if there’s a price on the decision he hesitates, and then insist he wouldn’t. Although he does regret enlisting without considering all of the consequences he is very much aware of his responsibility, “I see it as a second job. You feel out an application, go through an interview… and if you’re late you get written up.”

I’d heard of this blog thing and would have never thought I could find a site that actually offered the service for free (besides myspace). So I’m doing what I do anywhere between 25 and 100 times a day- checking my email. I got on this listserve while I was at a poetry reading a while back. Sometimes there’s some interesting stuff posted, but 90% of the time it’s some bull shit black righteous type shit. There’s some tones of black righteousness that turn me off… that just sound out of tune to me... the racist kind. The kind that seeks to resurrect the energy of the civil rights movement but without integration. I’m not sure what it is, but it irritates me and saddens me… however I have yet to unsubscribe. (back on track) In my inbox is a link to a blog for mothers that was posted on the listserve. It didn’t say it, but being the intuitive type of dude I am, I came to the conclusion that the blog was particularly for black mothers. I scanned it a bit, and it didn’t take long for me to find the “baby daddy” post. You know what; I’ll admit it- I was looking for it. I knew it had to be there. Like the cumshot in your favorite porn flick… let’s just fast-forward to the end.

Talk about under representation. Where are all the blogs for black fathers? So I follow the link to the blog website, and to my surprise it’s easy and best of all free. I started off thinking this would be that blog for black fathers, and then I changed my mind. I really have nothing to say to them, except for hold your head. This is my attempt at pretending to be the writer I am. A pacifier of some sort to make me feel like I’m not wasting valuable time.

I just started reading this Stephen King book “on writing” and he started submitting work when he was like 16. I’ll be 25 in two weeks, and yeah he didn’t have TV during his childhood, but that excuse can only take me so far (nowhere). I was surprised to read he was working two jobs with a wife and two kids before he actually made it. Yet he still made the time to write. Of course he didn’t want to change the world like I do, but if he did he had the work ethic to do it. I say that, but then I think what writer doesn’t want to change the world? Even if all he did was make you that much more afraid of the dark or desensitized to evil and crazy weird off the wall stuff (I don’t know what else to call it)- he made an impact. Every writer wants someone to read their shit. And while I think every artist is some what narcissistic (I know I am), everyone wants to have some sort of impact. There’s a scene in United States of Leland, where Don Cheadle is like “you’re not a writer unless someone’s reading your shit.” So read my shit and help me change the world.