Where the h*ll have YOU been?!

M.I.A. is too good a term for my lack of postings.  That term, for me, brings back thoughts of heroes who disappeared while stationed in Vietnam.  I’m no hero but I was, indeed, missing . . . for quite some time.  I won’t say that I’m back, but, rather, making my presence known and alerting the world that I am still here and very much alive.

There was another incident that kept me off the electronic highway – my DSL went down for over a week!  As it turned out, my modem was bad.  VERIZON sent me another one poste-haste and after connecting it, my DSL was still down.  Of course while all of this is going on, keep in mind that I was back and forth with customer service (yes – I use the term very lightly).  Each and every rep with whom I spoke was extremely “English challenged”, to coin a phrase.  The “final” outcome was that there was a problem on my line.  Now, I retired from VERIZON when I was a service tech (one who installs and repairs telephone service for a living), and I assure you that there was no problem on my line.  After a few days, I was told that there was a problem in the office, not my line.  I don’t have a video phone but I can say with certainty that both a Black man and an Hispanic man called me to say that there was no trouble in the office.  The real problem was that the modem that I was sent was very new and quite complicated to configure.  They told me what to ask for when I next called for technical assistance.  When I called, I asked for the very same – to no avail.  I called the Hispanic gent back and told him of my quandary and he said that he could do nothing to help me as he was not trained in that capacity.  He was, however, very gracious in transferring me to the Black gent with whom I had spoken earlier.  He took about ten minutes of my time telling me what to do and, voila, my DSL was back up and working.  I was extremely pleased that my problem had been solved, but, I think that I was more impressed by having two gents  assist me who spoke fluent English!

That is when my “mobile troubles” began.  TWITTER is nothing more than time wasted foolishly.  It is not productive, is non-utilitarian, and the same results can be accomplished by already existing entities.  However – non-productive, non-utilitarian, and redundancy is exactly what I’ve been looking for – blind indulgence, if you will.  Ever since my DSL went down, I have not been able to log in to my mobile TWITTER account.  I accomplished that feat yesterday while inside. next to my PC and was whistling Dixie when it happened.  However, once back outside and in the public arena, I could not log in with my cell phone.  I was distressed once again.  I tweeted last night that I hope to have a decent cell phone by the end of the week and all of my “tweet” troubles will be behind me.  We shall see.

I also spent a lot – no wait – an extreme amount of time playing a MMORPG (Massively Multi-playing Online Role Play Game) entitled EVONY (which can be found at evony.com).  It is a game that combines a sim-type game, a role-play game, and a war game for an exciting and time-consuming experience.  I won’t even go into details as I could go on for forever about the game, but, if you have the time and patience and don’t mind becoming addictive to yet another distraction, head to the site and let the fun begin.  I know – I’ve already said it, but, let me reiterate – extremely addictive!

My e-troubles brought up an interesting thought:  why is it that when our technological toys are not responding properly, we lose our minds?  I love the time spent with my children.  I bike ride with my best bud just about every weekend and it brings on hours of fun and conversation.  I can go for days without turning on the TV, radio, or my MP3 player.  Yet, when the internet and all of its wealth of information becomes unavailable, I swear that I just about lose it.  It’s almost like my world has come to an end.  Sad, indeed.  I’m not (all that) embarrassed to let you know that I am a somewhat fan of  The View (on ABC).  Believe it or not, I can’t take my eyes off of Whoopi and Sherri.  Yeah – sue me.  At any rate, I quote their motto that is used at the end of each show: “Take some time to enjoy the view”.  Peace.

copyright © 2009 freedom

freerealm@gmail.com

“It’s A Beautiful Morning” by Felix Cavaliere and Edward Brigati

“It’s A Beautiful Morning” by The Wipe Outs

Sample 3 from “the wordsmith’s alley”

i am the wordsmith

i am the wordsmith,

the thought weaver,

the literary sculptist.

i am the master of word manipulation.

I am the witch doctor

of the spoken word.

i work my magic

in an unconventional style,

just to see you smile.

i invoke the magic

of an ordinary word.

i am the voodoo priest of language,

performing literary incantations.

i sprinkle recherché gems

into your ears,

hypnotizing,

mesmerizing,

thoughts and words

that keep you fantasizing.

i am the accumulator of words,

the collector of thoughts,

the purveyor of rhythmic chant.

i bring nuance to the monotone.

i am off the beaten path,

light years from the mundane,

miles away from boring lane.

i formulate complexities

from the simplest of thoughts.

i bring you something new

that you’ve never heard,

and give new meaning to the word “word”.

i am the wordsmith,

the thought weaver,

the literary sculptist.

i am the master of word manipulation.

copyright  2008  blackstarr

Sample 2 from “the wordsmith’s alley”

with shades of e e

i find the comma not uncommon
they infiltrate my sentences
they are everywhere
tearing apart creating mere fragments
of what once was a creative thought
the comma becomes saturation liquidation
an over abundance of concentration
it is like so many ghetto bars
so many inner city scars
like so many roaches and rats
and sunday go to meeting hats
you will forgive me if i say
so
knowing clearly that what i meant was
too
i drop the comma to forget to mindslip the over abundance

and why would i even give thought to the use of the period
it is an ending
a death of sorts
so final
or too
again
it turns my endless verse into something so finite
i dare not use three of them separated by spaces
for then my original thought perfect and correct becomes flawed
for now i must subsidize my original thought
perfect correct with yet another
they placed a period upon my beloved land
by dropping crack into the palm of my hand
put a virus into a sensuality that once was grand
yes i omit the terminal period in hopes that our posterity
is timeless and never ending

intentionally there is no use of the powerless semi colon
it falls short in its imitation of the colon
not quite good enough to be whole
there but to cause hesitation
to make one flinch
in the face of what is to come
recall
that langston spoke of a dream deferred
we listen
as farrakhan gives us the final word
but it flees
like the musical quickness of bird
my words and thoughts will not fall short
by the use of the semi colon
they will survive or better yet thrive
my words will not instigate my reader to hesitate

you will not find the mark that exclaims
as it only helps to fan the flames
and to perpetuate those media games
it is missing from my passage as
it merely serves to incite
it causes one to over react
to lose that natural coolness
which we regard as everyday fact
adding one more too many headlines
last night another drive by shooting
inner city crowds turn to looting
while agent orange is still polluting
the mark that exclaims
has no place in the lines that i write
i tone down my message so as not to incite
my messages are toned down so as to soothe

would i have cause to capitalize
are not two letters both of equal value
without capital isms all are created the same
why should i give one letter more recognition than another
when there is no given proof that one is the greater
the sphinx once had a royal ethiopian nose
but the british quickly eliminated those
because it was my face that the artist chose
capital isms separate over time they devastate
no two remain equal
hence i choose not to capitalize
nor to lend help otherwise
in creating the illusion that one is better than another

and finally i expunge the query as to me it brings to mind
but one word
that being what
not what as a thing
but what as in please repeat
are my words not loud enough
that they might be heard without reiteration over and again
did huey not resound his every word
is what michael sings really so absurd
why does jesse speak but is seldom heard
therefore
i refuse to query that which is loud and clear
in hopes that others might also listen and hear
the query would have one believe that a voice was never heard
when all the while

perhaps

one

never

listened

copyright 1997 blackstarr

Sample 1 from “the wordsmith’s alley”

open mike night at the coffee shop slash cyber bar(and you with a front-row seat)

sister naomi

was loud and clear.

she blasphemed your yesterdays,

cursed your tomorrows,

laughed at your pathetic, whiny sorrows.

she wanted you to hear

what was relevant for today,

and demanded that you hear what she had to say.

she shouted obscene truths,

confronted all of the lies,

then, dubbed you foolishly wise.

she chastised, demoralized,

then insincerely apologized.

sister naomi was loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

black wonder

was loud and clear.

he called you “dear”.

a red-hot, burning flame who

sashayed, and swayed, and played

upon your fears.

he told you that

his sexual preference was contagious,

and all the while, outrageous

rantings of equality filled the air.

he shrieked and freaked you out,

hoped you knew that it was all about

the sapien having always been homo,

about union for all, rights for all,

about “hetero thinking” about to take a fall.

black wonder was loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

the smoking gunn

were loud and clear.

they echoed off of each other’s

individual vibration,

words flowing in syncopation.

they spoke of conspiracies

both hidden and clear,

about wars on a new frontier.

they spoke solo,

then duo,

then back to a trio,

sneering at the so-called neo.

they hissed their poison at right-wing status quos,

and scoffed at their erstwhile political foes.

the smoking gunn were loud and clear.

. . . they extrapolate on love, hate and rage,

as spoken word blasts like a 12-guage,

and with a grateful bow, they exit the stage.

copyright 2008 blackstarr