Afro-Futuristic ViSions -
Supernatural
Although an Afro-Futurist may use terminology to inspire interest and fire (inspiration, zeal) in their readers, DO NOT BE FOOLED. It is with the sincerest heart that their goal is to bring about the natural spontaneity of our being within the framework and outer region of our culture.
It would be an injustice for an Afro-Futurist to stagnate themselves and their readers with the constraints of language which originally 'impressed' upon them the need to move away from the cultural dogma of science fiction and paranormal.
An Afro-Futurist does their best to incorporate foundation of their culture with the given tools they have and in most cases been raised in. The Anglish Language.
It is not our goal to express a hatred nor a disdain for the language unless we make strides to speak our own tongue along with others. Even in such a case, hatred and disdain, only causes structural and organ (sphere) disruption, as seen in the case of those with said 'diseases'.
One word that seems to cause alot of attraction is SUPERNATURAL. When the average or even 'conscious' person hears this word, immediately there is a feeling of superiority, rush of adrenaline, curiosity and all manner of self-imposed and induced energies that follow. However, I am here to tell you...it is nothing special. Nothing more special than the wind that you cannot see but feel and then reflect on the concept of what is unseen and so and so.
In my case, I write from experience, the swirl of cycles, the breeze outside my window, the breeze inside my chest, the unfolding of the expression of our organs (spheres) and the movement of our culture within all objects. So basically, the word SUPERNATURAL is like a redbull jolt of bs. Reminds of the scene with Wendy and Prince when she said to him "We do it only to make you feel good." However, it seems we all need a jolt from time to time.
AND at the same point the following definition will only leave you boxed in!!!!
1.
of, pertaining to, or being above or beyond what is natural; unexplainable by natural law or phenomena; abnormal.
2.
of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or attributed to God or a deity.
3.
of a superlative degree; preternatural: a missile of supernatural speed.
4.
of, pertaining to, or attributed to ghosts, goblins, or other unearthly beings; eerie; occult.
So to end off you can restart a new cycle of thought. Watch your terminology or you may become terminally ill.
Visit http://www.djadjanmedjay.com/ to support my work. Follow my screeches (only small birds tweet) at https://twitter.com/#!/DjaDjaNMedjay
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Today i joined, the Black science fiction site and it's been a wonderful pleasure the warm welcomes the great folks i am truly best by great creative minds like myself
Bought mine Tuesday...
Movie Site: RedTails2012
Amazon links:
Red Tails DVD
Red Tails Blu-Ray
Red Tails - Instant Video
Red Tails Reborn - Documentary
I just remembered another book by a black writer that I reviewed on Mondo Ernesto
BIG MACHINE is by Victor LaValle, who admits to being a horror fan, and lists Stephen King and Ambrose Bierce as influences.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2009
NOT JUST ANY OLD BIG MACHINE
It was the cover of Victor LaValle’s Big Machine that caught my eye. Automatic pistols, cats, ghostly black people, and an array of objects dancing in a white background, under the red, swirly letters. It suggested hardboiled mayhem, but was so un-noir.It’s the Twenty-First Century, folks. Noir is getting to be cliché. Black translated into French ain’t enough. We need more than darkness. How about some ultraviolet – the invisible light that makes the scorpions glow in the dark? Just a humble suggestion.
Anyway, the flaps and blurbs mentioned Hieronymus Bosch and paranormal investigations – could be kinda weird. Then I read a review that compared it to Ishmael Reed’s Mumbo Jumbo, which I consider to be one the great novels of the Twentieth Century. I ended up plunking down some hard-earned money for it.
It’s not the Mumbo Jumbo of our century – we’ll be lucky if we see such a thing – but I was not disappointed. The range of traditions that LaValle draws upon include Ishmael Reed, Chester Himes, Octavia Butler, and Philip K. Dick. He admits to being a horror fan, uses a quote from John Carpenter’s The Thing as an epigram, and lists Shirley Jackson, T.E.D. Klein, Stephen King, and “my man” Ambrose Bierce as influences. He’s not your typical African American writer, and this book will probably not become an Oprah selection.
Big Machine is the story of Ricky Rice, an ex-junkie janitor, who was raised in a cult that is truly bizarre but disturbingly believable. He is recruited into a group of psychic investigators, because he can hear The Voice. He is drawn into the wars between secret societies that include the one he grew up in. The story tears back and forth through time, revealing him and his world in startling, jagged chunks like brutal time-travel. And where it ends up is far beyond, and more fantastic than I was hoping for. Fans of the science fiction/fantasy/horror megagenre will enjoy the mindblowing conclusion.
The “paranormal” entities in the book are truly something different, have the texture of reality, and stand out in this age of cheap fantasy media overload.
Part of me wonders why Will Smith and Denzel Washington aren’t fighting over the movie rights, but this book digs deep into heroin, race, religion, politics, and other specters that are haunting Twenty-First Century America. It’s scary in a way that “horror” loving pop culture will have a hard time cozying up to. Which makes it a better book, and one to look out for.
http://www.mondoernesto.com/2009/10/not-just-any-old-big-machine.html
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| Crawling the Jefferies Tube - Captain Montgomery Scott |
The ashes of late actor James Doohan, who played chief engineer Montgomery Scott in the original "Star Trek" television series and a series of subsequent films, were on the SpaceX rocket that launched a private spacecraft into orbit this week.
Doohan's character was referenced in the "Beam me up, Scotty" catchphrase associated with "Star Trek."
Good Day, Everyone!
Trash, my debut novel, is now available for your reading pleasure at Smashwords.com!
Here’s the links!
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/160029
Other options are:
Option #1: Amazon Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Trash-ebook/dp/B007X65DAG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1337729143&sr=1-1
Option #2: Lulu.com:
http://www.lulu.com/shop/elizabeth-camali/trash/paperback/product-20068772.html
For free samples of my work go to:
Option #1: Author’s Den:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewwork.asp?AuthorID=69807&id=51892
Option #2: Fiction Press:
This is kind of an open question. How many black creators on this site actually make a steady living off of creating? I mean don't have a day job but only create in their respective craft? I just wanted to know. Do you think black (Animation, Fiction,Comics, Game creation, ect) can be a viable way to earn decent living? Thoughts?
Hey guys, HELP! I need more storage space on my DropBox account for my collaborative animation project at school. Would you mind creating an account from this link and helping me earn 500MB each of storage space for your referrals?
What do you get out of it? A basic account with the same bonus storage benefit when you invite friends (via email, Twitter, Facebook) to sign up. For my artist and entrepreneurial friends this is the perfect way to share files back and forth with your (or perhaps our?) future collaborative projects. Thanks in advance and I really appreciate your help.
Do you want to prove your 3D modeling skills to yourself and others? Check out this handy little page on Autodesk's site:
Autodesk certifications are a reliable validation of your skills and knowledge, and can lead to accelerated professional development, improved productivity, and enhanced credibility for you and your employer.
Key Benefits
- Gain an industry recognized credential that proves your skill level
- Use the Autodesk Certified Logo
- Display your Autodesk Certified certificate
- List your name in the Autodesk Certified Professionals database
Check it out at:
http://usa.autodesk.com/adsk/servlet/index?siteID=123112&id=14238652
If you need the software to study for it check this out also:
http://usa.autodesk.com/adsk/servlet/pc/index?siteID=123112&id=17355061
College Park, MD, May 16, 2012 —The American Institute of Physics (AIP) has chosen renowned physicist and writer Lisa Randall, Ph.D., as the 2012 recipient of the Andrew Gemant Award, which is given annually for significant contributions to the cultural, artistic, or humanistic dimension of physics.
“I was delighted to hear about this award,” said Randall. “It’s very nice for such broader creative activities stemming from physics to be recognized. They can be both risky and rewarding, so it’s very satisfying when they work out well.”
Randall is considered one of the most influential theoretical physicists of the past decade. Her scientific research explores gaps in our current understanding of the properties and interaction of matter, such as why gravity is weaker than other fundamental forces and what is the nature of dark matter.
Randall has used art to communicate some of the exotic ideas that stem from her research efforts. At the invitation of composer Hector Parra, she wrote the libretto for the opera “Hypermusic Prologue: A Projective Opera in Seven Planes.” The opera, which features contrasting tempos and transitions into electronically altered music, delves into the concept of extra dimensions and premiered in 2009 at the Pompidou Centre in Paris. Randall also co-curated the Los Angeles Art Association exhibit Measure for Measure, which examined the important scientific concept of scale through the lens of contemporary art.
AIP Press Release:
Theoretical Physicist Lisa Randall Wins 2012 Gemant Award
Man, been mia from BSFS for a minute. Coming back with some new work to share though. Peace, love, and light to all my creative folkers on here.
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| The ninth-century wall paintings predate existing Mayan astronomical records by hundreds of years |
An excavation of an archaeological site in Guatemala has uncovered Mayan astronomical records dating to the ninth century A.D. The tabulated numbers, which predate existing Mayan astronomical documents by several hundred years, chart the motion of the moon and also seem to relate to the orbits of Mars and Venus. (And good news: they
do not predict the world will end this year—in fact, some of the numbers appear to
refer to dates far in the future.)
Scientific American: Earliest Mayan Astronomical Calendar Unearthed in Guatemala Ruins
The Most Likely Places to Find Alien Life according to Seth Shostak of the SETI institute are Enceladus (small moon of Saturn), Titan, Mars, Europa, Venus, Callisto and Ganymede (Jupiter moons).
Mind you, the EXTREME climates on these extraterrestrial candidates are not hospitable to human life, without some well-engineered terra-forming.
However, we have examples on the Earth of life developing under extremes:
crushing pressures at ocean depths; temperatures beyond the boiling point of water where we've found life, thus the theory: if in these places, then elsewhere beyond our solar system.
Space.com: The 6 Most Likely Places to Find Alien Life
We did it! You did it! We made out Kickstarter goal of $10K for our Tokyo shoot. We have 26 hours to go and we would like to raise $10, 900.00 to cover the fee to Kickstarter. As I am sitting in the airport waiting for my flight, we have 133 Backers and $10,342.00. This was my first Kickstarter campaign http://kck.st/J2q1qy and I have some strong feelings about crowd funding: It is a lot of work! It takes a team! It takes time! The reason we kickstarted "Black Sun" was because we needed to be in Tokyo for the May 20/21 eclipse and needed to raise the funds quickly. Success!
Our film crew consists of four people: me, Kelvin, Andrea, and Jackie. Kelvin Z. Phillips is my co-director - really important since I will be doing interviews for part of the time. Andrea Macias and Jackie Kuenstler are both students at UT Austin and work for The Daily Texan http://www.dailytexanonline.com/. They will be camera, sound, and general crew for our Tokyo production.
We are excited to get to Tokyo and begin scouting locations for the next several days of shooting. The annular eclipse, which is Monday morning in Tokyo, will be our most time-sensitve event. Up until then we will be getting to know our star: Dr. Alphonse Sterling. Also, we will learn about the Japanese Space Exploration Agency (JAXA) and the Hinode Satellite. Hinode observes the Sun in several wavelengths of light.
In addition to blogging here, I will be tweeting @astroholbrook, and posting updates to our kickstarter page.
Bon Voyage!
It is a psychosis when one's esteem is based on an entire culture's abasement. It is also, national suicide to insist that the heavy lifting of future STEM careers be held up by one culture, one gender over all others.
"Melting pot" then becomes less than lyric poetry: it devolves to self-delusional myth, "picket fence" fantasies and a recipe for national disaster as the globe becomes more complex and needs every citizen valued, valuable and rowing in our collective boat. The inane debates on birth control, gay marriage et al have not created a
singlejob, a single educational opportunity for those at the bottom of the social hierarchy to lift themselves by bootstraps... with no laces!
"Pyrrhic victory" will be our epitaph.
"Blessed [are] the meek: for they shall inherit the earth." Matthew 5:5
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SEM shows a gold nanotip (top) and localized photocurrent from the nanotip apex (middle). A schematic depicts the photoelectron escape trajectory (with quenched quiver motion) from the nanolocalized field (bottom). (Courtesy of University of Göttingen)
In 1905, Albert Einstein used his “quantum” view of light to explain key attributes of the photoelectric effect: The energy of electrons emitted from a metal does not increase at higher light intensities, as the classical wave theory contends, but only the number of emitted electrons increases, consistent with light quanta. With the photon energy E = hν, each electron acquires energy from one photon, and only by increasing the light frequency ν (and not intensity) can the energy of the emitted electrons be increased.
Now, more than a century later, scientists at the University of Göttingen (Göttingen, Germany) have demonstrated that in the so-called strong-field regime—the interaction of extremely high-intensity laser light with atoms and surfaces—classical dynamics may indeed prevail in photoemission from metal nanostructures.1
“In the usual photoeffect, one electron absorbs one photon, but in our experiments, we found electrons that had hitched a classical ride on the light field itself to escape confinement on the nanoscale,” says University of Göttingen scientist George Herink. “Strong, few-cycle infrared light pulses focused on gold nanotips cause the energy of electrons to grow with increasing intensity and wavelength; some electrons acquire the energy of not just one photon, but more than a thousand photons.”
Laser Focus World: STRONG-FIELD PHYSICS: Ultrafast pulses, gold nanotips renew classical view of the photoelectric effect
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| Fred's Excellent Eclipse Image (that's the cred) |
“Black Sun,” a feature-length documentary, chronicles two celestial events: the May 20, 2012 annular solar eclipse and the November 14, 2012 total solar eclipse. The movie follows two astrophysicists who study the solar atmosphere during eclipses:
•Dr. Alphonse Sterling of NASA Marshall Space Flight Center stationed in Japan (a man who had early success in the US, but left his home country to further cultivate his wide-ranging interests).
•Dr. Hakeem Oluseyiof the Physics & Space Sciences department at the Florida Institute of Technology (a scientist who beat all of the odds: poverty, homelessness, single-parent, poor early education, etc., to get to where he is today).
“Black Sun” explores how and why the two men became scientists, their opposing paths and personalities, their struggles as minorities in a STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) field, and their noteworthy accomplishments today.
Related Link:
Hubble's Diverse Universe
"[Gordon] Moore is my boss, and if your boss makes a law, then you'd better follow it," says Mark Bohr, who leads Intel's efforts to make advances in microchip design practical to manufacture. Moore's Law, of course, was first proposed by Bohr's boss in 1965, when Moore pointed out that the number of transistors on a chip doubles every year. The current form of Moore's law has been set since 1975, when Moore altered the pace to a doubling every two years. Remarkably, the computer industry has maintained that pace ever since, training us to expect computers to become ever faster in the process.
Technology Review: Moore's Law Lives Another Day
The Switch, by Valjeanne Jeffers, noted and uber talented member of BSFS, introduced to us a world ruled by a repressive, dictatorial regime presiding over an unequal two-tier system. On the planet Tyrol, the wealthy reside above ground. They enjoy the opulent perks of their privileged status and regard with class-laden disdain those who eke out hollow existences in the impoverished squalor of the underground.
Z100, a beautiful spy and assassin, was instrumental in the coup that brought about the present order. As a reward, she lives the life of the decadently rich, incurring the jealousy and resentment of those in her class who deem her undeserving. Of course, her skills, reputation and power makes her a very dangerous person. But it's who Z100 is that also makes her a vital component in a plot by a group of revolutionaries to overthrow Tyrol's ruling regime.
The Switch II follows through with this plot, its success or failure hinging on key conspirator, Simone 2. The twists in this roller coaster tale were enough to make me feel like a twizzler. There are plenty of dazzling steampunk elements in both I and II. Particularly the sequel, where Valjeanne crafts a detailed and descriptive steampunk sub-terrain environment to contrast a sleek, hi tech upper world. The detail she pours into settings are not lost on the human element. There is good, solid characterization in this work. The heroes are sympathetic and utterly human. The villain, Z100, is a morally repugnant sort, but there is room for multi-dimensionality in her character. Fantasy, science fiction, and suspense meld to make Switch I and II a literary pleasure.
In this month's Urbanite Magazine
It's Like That, And That's The Way It Is
Fiction by Melki
The sun wearily peeled off the horizon's tight grip as it crept upon Route 40 during its habitual rise above the infinite sprawl of strewn metal and concrete deities some called city.
Anachronistic train tracks clanged like loud hammers rudely crisscrossing socioeconomic and cultural borders like thick coagulating blood traversing the veins of some terrestrial body begrudgingly awakened from its slumber.
Pillz could see the slight drops of mist outside his tall windows that served as his entry point to the gleaming downtown of skyscrapers and golden-hued, electroplated steeples. He could see the faint reflection of himself in the window.
He looked younger than he should.
His life was a war. Or was his war life?
Pillz smiled egotistically, amazed that he still possessed the frame of some raw powerful athlete. Twenty years went in a blink. Twenty years ago, he was a B-Boy—a term the hip-hop proletariat identified by before the corporate takeover of hip-hop. B-Boy wuz before real hip-hop slowly tapped out to the brutal commercial takedown, replete with collateral industries of quasi-scientific over-analysis of one myopic slice of Black culture.
Twenty years ago, Pillz was a B-Boy and a hoop-god, infallible to gravity with the ability to dunk a basketball in the contorted faces of many a challenger seeking to earn a rep by dismantling his.
That was then, and then was always good.
But then wasn't now, even though at times he felt like he was again back then—when endorphins saturated his being. Still, then was just always a thought away, when he was that dude.
Returning to the now, Pillz ditched his memories like a pair of old kicks tossed onto the street wire. He stared into the sky and smiled like the city was his.
Mornings and late night were the only times he could steal those elusive, brutally honest moments of mental Tai Chi before the noise of the outside world ushered in his new list of "gotta-dos."
Inescapable as body odor, his gotta-dos had morphed into majestic pyramids of collection notices and overdraft fees mercilessly competing with his joneses to do better than yesterday.
Pillz measured his self-worth by the "got-dones." His got-dones were the only currency that mattered, and as always, his gotta-dos were messing wit his got-dones. Sweating 'em like some hacking overzealous defender trying to stop him from getting to the rim. Pillz knew how to get a tight defender up off him, how to break them ankles, cross 'em over to get the room he needed to score. No one could stop him from getting to the rim. He knew what to do and how to do it, he just needed motivation . . . Coffee, thought Pillz. Italian? ... Nah, Ethiopian.
Morning intervals of past hoop dreams transitioned into nothingness.
Nothingness rudely shattered by the vibrating noise from his phone symbiotically atop his copy of Gerald Massey's Lectures. According to Massey, the early church left out helluva lot of information about who Jesus was.
Pillz wondered if Dan Brown with all his DaVinci shit had ever read Massey or Alvin Boyd Kuhn. He knew Brown read Holy Blood, Holy Grail, and Messianic Legacy 'cause he read both of them back in '94 himself. Hollywood was a mutha, Pillz laughed to himself as he picked up the phone to figure out who the hell be calling him this early.
Maybe it was Jesus?
The caller I.D. read WT, but he knew he didn't know anyone named WT.
WT? Maybe that's short for what the ... Pillz laughed to himself as he decided to answer the phone anyway.
"Yeah," said Pillz, all the while hoping not to end his four-year streak of successfully ignoring the pitiful attempts of debt collectors to confirm he existed. Maybe they were closing in on him? Maybe he was gonna have to move off the grid quicker than he thought.
Alaska?
All the fresh salmon you could catch ... Nah. Plus, now they got gangs in Alaska. It's too damn cold to gangbang in Alaska. Gangs must be like "Yeah, kid, when I see you this summer, it's on! In six months when them icicles drop, watch ya back, fool."
Now, that would be just my luck—survive B'more and instead of catching salmon, catch a bullet. And it probably won't even be a gangbanger—just some trigger-happy Republican with bad eyesight thinking I'm a Black Russian. Okay, ixnay Alaska.
"I'm trying to reach Pillz."
"Who you?"
"I'm WT."
"Yeah ... what up," mumbled Pillz.
"I got your number from a chick in my yoga class, Tina. She said you had the good shit."
"Yeah," smiled Pillz. "Oh, you talking 'bout double-jointed Tina with the bad eye?" Pillz stopped suddenly. "What shit you talking 'bout?"
"Well, I got some serious pain going on, and Tina said you could help."
"OK. Maybe I can help you . . . maybe not, "said Pillz cryptically.
WT paused for a second, and Pillz could almost hear him thinking through the phone. Pillz glanced up, just in time to see a pigeon land on his window and grin, like kid you got too many gotta-dos to turn down cash.
The bird just sat there chilling.
Pillz stared at the bird like this won't Occupy Wall Street, you had to get buzzed into this building. Wall Street, Occupy, Left or Right didn't matter none to him—they all had they hustle, and he had his.
For bretheren like Pillz, it was like people who played the lottery, worrying 'bout the Dow Jones averages.
Shit, at least with the lottery, poor people had an actual chance to win. Pillz had a multitude of clients, and they politics wuz they own problem.
He sold to the Occupy and Wall Street execs in the same transaction, and a few of his Goldman Sachs clients invited him into an offshore hedge fund managed via an MP3 player and a private-invitation-only social media site. By the time the government realized he'd joined the secret society of alchemical masters manufacturing money out of thin air, he'd have already cleared 'bout $2 billion. If the Feds catch me, I'll just ask the other Feds who bailed out my clients to bail me out—heard they got Bernanke on speed dial.
The pigeon looked at Pillz like he heard his thoughts and like it wasn't no normal pigeon but more like some winged sage. An animal angel whose job it was to warn cats by shitting on 'em, before they slipped up and did something like buying that just-before-closing, last batch of shrimp-fried rice from that red-bricked Chinese restaurant that operated on the occupied side of a semi-abandoned row house.
This shit was weird enough to be on the new show about ancient animal aliens.
Pillz looked at the pigeon and saw he was wearing a pair of Jordan Melos.
Damn, didn't know they came that small.
Note to self, grimaced Pillz. Never buy that last batch of shrimp fried rice at closing time.
"So, you gonna tell me what you got?" said WT breaking up Pillz's unplanned meander into the sordid world of friends with feathers.
"I need to see if it is worth my while to head your way. You off 40, right?" said WT.
"I don't put my biz out there like that, kid—this is Bal'more. You could be wearing a wire," said Pillz. "Tell you what, meet me at Lexington and Eutaw around 11, and I think I can help you."
An hour flipped into two as Pillz threw on his black hoodie and made his way across the city toward Lexington Market. It was a blustery day with the sun peeking out between dark clouds that shifted back and forth across the sky.
The wind blew with an unusual aggressiveness.
Pillz swore he saw tumbleweed blow down the street. He had never seen it so empty. The only thing open was the dollar store. It was even emptier outside than the day the First Lady unexpectedly showed up to buy some cheap snacks for the White House.
I think it was the First Lady, Pillz mused. Or maybe it was Oprah, 'cause they wouldn't open the door?
He looked up only to see what had to be WT walking towards him with a major limp.
WT was about 6'4" with a limp that made him 6' even. He struggled up the block, grimacing, eyes squinting against the wind as it slapped him in his face. He was in pain; Pillz could see that. He could also see that kid looked like a narc.
Nah, retail security guard, concluded Pillz.
"What up . . . Pillz," said Pillz introducing himself with a closed-fist pound to WT.
WT smiled sparingly and instead of pounding Pillz with a return closed fist nervously tried to shake his fist.
Pillz stared over WT's shoulder and then glanced in the cardinal directions to make sure was clear.
"OK, you got the ends?"
"Yeah," remarked WT, "you got the product?"
"I do, but I need to see some ends," said Pillz.
"Yeah, I understand," said WT as he slid the tightly folded cash over to Pillz's outstretched palm. "I just don't wanna get ripped off. Everybody in B'more got a hustle, it seems."
"You right about that," smiled Pillz, "but vicking somebody ain't mine. We good," said Pillz as his eyes scoured the perimeter. "Just walk over a few steps to your left and look down underneath that empty brown bag bottle of gin and we good," he whispered.
A helicopter zoomed overhead across the skyline, recklessly doing figure eights over the top of the seniors building, scaring the shit out of old people.
Without hesitation, WT walked looking down, saw the empty brown bag bottle of gin, and picked it up. He peeked inside and saw about an ounce of the good stuff wrapped up in a sandwich baggie.
He looked up eager to signal to Pillz he was good, but by the time he turned around Pillz was ghost. All WT saw was intersecting concrete blocks that led to nowhere. He scanned the other direction and saw some old tumbleweed floating down Eutaw.
He knew what the tumbleweed meant: He had until sundown to get the hell out of Dodge. Either that, or it was Sunday and Lexington Market was closed.
The sun peeked through the weaving clouds for a quick cameo as WT slid his pocket knife out from his front pocket and cut a small slit into the baggie. He lifted a hit of the powder and rubbed a small taste on his tongue.
His eyes rolled back in delight and he could feel the pain leaving his body almost instantly. WT tucked the product into his hoody pocket and started trekking up the street back home.
He smiled to himself, thinking, Damn, this is the purest glucosamine-chondroitin on the streets of B'More.
He wasn't proud of the fact that he had a habit and had to deal with all types of strangers to get his fix on, but he was a stone health junkie and he wasn't apologizing for that.
It was like that, and that's the way it is.
