From Greg Laden's Blog: Evolution of the Moon
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"Black writers, of whatever quality, who step outside the pale of what black writers are supposed to write about, or who black writers are supposed to be, are condemned to silences in black literary circles that are as total and as destructive as any imposed by racism." ~ Audre Lorde
Is the Film industry ready for a Black Female Syfy Action Hero ?
I submitted two short stories that I have been working on for the last month. In "Zambeto" I played with the standard idea of two worlds: the world that we live in and a mystical African world. For the second story "Kokopelli" I reversed this. Both stories feature a black woman central character, both draw on real mythological creatures for inspiration.
"Zambeto" is a helpful spirit akin to the boogie man in Benin, West Africa. Here are some clips from YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c95IAxGRUSA and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3Up4br89lQ&feature=related . An alternative spelling is Zangbeto. My sister, Shawna Holbrook, was an IFESH volunteer in Benin for three years (www.ifesh.org). In 2001, we visited her and I was introduced to the Zambeto. There was a special room in the central market where she lived where the Zambeto costume was kept. I got to inspect the costume but couldn't touch it. One night when we were out at a restaurant we could hear the eerie music that was played when the Zambeto was roaming. We went in the opposite direction so I didn't get to see the Zambeto in action.
"Kokopelli" is a spirit deity from the American Southwest. He is a trickster and a fertility God. His image is found in many rock art sites, some nice examples are on this website http://www.real-dream-catchers.com/Kokopelli_Project/kokopelli_legend.htm. Notice his erection which has been removed in the numerous commercial items that feature Kokopelli today. Living in Tucson, Kokopelli is everywhere. My daughter has a pair of Kokopelli socks! Ok, I admit that I bought them for her. To see the modern (and sanitized) Kokopelli get on images.google.com and type in Kokopelli.
In Zambeto, rather than being a person wearing a mask, the Zambeto is a real creature that visits the world that we live in. The heroine has to send the Zambeto back to its own world. Kokopelli is also real, but in the world the heroine lives in such things are normal. Kokopelli helps the heroine transition to the other world, our world.
Zambeto I submitted to Milton Davis for his Griot: Sword and Soul anthology. Kokopelli I submitted for the next edition of Genesis the Black Science Fiction anthology. I think the deadline for each is the end of April. I will know in a couple of months if either have been accepted for publication.
There is a widely held view in the astronomical community that unmanned robotic space vehicles are, and will always be, more efficient explorers of planetary surfaces than astronauts (e.g. Coates, 2001; Clements 2009; Rees 2011). Partly this is due to a common assumption that robotic exploration is cheaper than human exploration (although, as we shall see, this isn't necessarily true if like is compared with like), and partly from the expectation that continued developments in technology will relentlessly increase the capability, and reduce the size and cost, of robotic missions to the point that human exploration will not be able to compete. I will argue below that the experience of human exploration during the Apollo missions, more recent field analogue studies, and trends in robotic space exploration actually all point to exactly the opposite conclusion.
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| "To boldly go where no man has gone before." TOS, images wiki |
Physics arXiv:
Dispelling the myth of robotic efficiency: why human space exploration will tell us more about the Solar System than will robotic exploration alone,
Ian A. Crawford, Department of Earth and Planetary Sciences, Birkbeck College London
The Dead War Series: Safe Zone a Dead War Short Story. Free at Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007PVBKP6
The war against the dead rages on. Sergeant Richards and other scouts have been very busy as army brass is planning something big. They have been working for hours without any sleep. A near death encounter forces Richards to get some rest in a "safe zone". Once there he realizes that there may be something worse than the dead. Despair.
Hiya Society!
If you don't follow the chat room here you're missing out. Anyhow one of the regulars has challenged the writers to produce a 300 word short story per day with a beginning middle and end. I'm not a writer but I do like to have fun, and since I can't support one a day I thought I'd do a serial thing with an installment every week. One of the things Thad and some of the hermanos in the chat room have already suggested is formatting, and I'm hoping this is a better effort. Anyhow it starts with a song!
“Red solo cup, I’ll fill you up, let’s have a party, let’s have a party”
You can get the damndest country songs stuck in your head hanging around with white friends, and growing up just outside of Ft. Sill Oklahoma a little black boy doesn't have many choices and the Indians are on the reservation.
Sport and I met when I was 13. Moms moved us back to Oklahoma to be next to Master Sergeant Grampa U.S. Army Retired and the pee wee football coach discovered I’d arrive at the ball hard and fast while Sport would get there fast and hard. I love that fool like people love brothers they don’t have to live with, like someone comfortable even though he is a country fuck.
When he called me that Saturday morning talking about going noodling I knew I had other things to do. Grampa said he was going to kick my ass if I didn’t get the pole barn put up on his land out the other way, but his threats usually came with a smile and I got things done anyhow even if it wasn’t on his time so I let him talk me into it without having to talk about my Momma.
You could always hear Sport coming even before you saw him and that’s even if he wasn’t saddled up to Miss Chatelaine his overly loud F-150 but when he was in her the next county could. Black folks aint the only ones who like loud music, but the difference is in the bass and not the guitar.
Sport got to the little trailer I stay in on Gramps land far enough away for privacy but close enough for dinner right as the sun was rising. Miss Chatelaine loud as ever would have brought gramps out with one of his guns if I were any closer.
“S’up Soul Brother”
“S’up Sport”
we said repeating the greeting that we’d shared a million times before.
Sport’s actual name was Hartwell Carver and his family had been in Oklahoma since they first shot the gun to let the White man carve out sections of it for their very own. We were going to go to one of the many little lakes that dot the landscape that was on one of his uncle’s stakes.
“Soul Brother where’s beer?”
Sport didn't have many words but the ones he spoke had meaning.
“Yeah Sport grab the cooler, but us a case on ice before the stores closed last night. Was gonna take it to the head myself putting up the pole barn but I ‘spect there’s enough to share with yo ass”.
I don’t know how people go hungry in Oklahoma when there is noodling. It’s all about holes and you don’t even need bait, hell you’re the bait. You get yourself down in the muddy water and kind of bob along the banks looking for a hole. In a good 3 out of 5 of those things you can find a throwback creature that was going to be the star of my apology to Grampa the good out the frying pan 45 pound catfish. Just bob along the bank stick your foot in wait for him to bite it with that sandpaper mouth of his and yank his behind on out.
Sport and I filled up Ms. Chatelaine with the cooler and all the gear we’d need in ourselves and headed out before 7 in the morning had really got there stopped by the local McDonalds for 8 mcmuffins apiece as a light snack and headed for the spot. Sport had the ability to take a sandwich in multiples and had downed all 8 by the time we got to turn off the highway and the bare road that led to the lake I still had 3 left I’d leave in Ms. Chatelaine and let Sport try and talk me out of later.
“Sport I can’t take this sad shit anymore let a brother start the day undepressed”
he was feeling cool that day cause he let me without bitching and soon as I reached down into my backpack to pull out some ¾ beat BOOM both of us hit our heads on the roof as Miss Chatelaine bucked.
“The fuck Sport how many times we been down this road for you to be hitting bumps and shit”
“Ayup twernt no bump”
Sport said rubbing the contact on his head like it felt good.
“Well whatever, dude watch that”
he answered with the national gesture of Sportania his middle finger.
I hoped out of Miss Chatelaine to open the gate to the last quarter mile or so to the lake we were fishing in and let Sport drive on up. I wanted to get a little warm up in before we hoped in that cold water so I jogged the last bit in. By the time I got to the bank Sport had already cracked a beer and tossed me one. I chugged it down without taking a breath and we both jumped in the water. No need to torture yourself with tippy toeing in better to take the bull by the horns.
Bobbing in the water is pleasant. The Oklahoma sun is plenty hot and it does shine through the water but the water is so cool we played like hippos regulating our temperature by either stooping down or standing up as the day demanded.
Sport got lucky in his first few holes and pulled out fish that would satisfy both our families before 1 o’clock. Me I couldn’t seem to get a good grip on the one I saw plus when he bit me he rubbed my knuckles so raw I actually yelped. Wasn’t fun hearing Sport tease me about my bitchiness but damn it hurt. We had just got done sitting on a bank about half a mile from Ms. Chatelaine arguing over who was going to have to lug the fish back when I felt it. Felt like a current, but this lake was one of the ones hooked up to the Ogallala aquifer it didn’t have a river to feed it that was above ground, but dang I could feel a pull. Round about that time the pull started to get strong enough for even Sport to notice it and we stared at each other and jumped the fuck out.
It was an amazing sight. The middle of the lake started to whip up like one of Momma’s lemon chiffon toppings accompanied by a sort of hum. Sport and I headed back for the truck forgetting about the catch he’d worked so hard to pull out of them holes and as we were jogging back to the car the lake started to hum some more, like a negro spiritual being sung by a fog horn on crack it hummed.
We got on Miss Chatelaine climbed up on her roof and spied the lake which had moved from lemon pie to crashing half a mile wide whirl pool. The water was angry and heading elsewhere and for half an hour we watched it saying very little beyond “dayum” then it was over. Lake Get Us Some Fish was empty as a whores heart and not near as pretty. All I got out of Sport for the next 10 minutes of staring was
“Sheeite”
...at least, it's a far less salacious result of "The Google."
Dr. Lawrence Krauss is a Theoretical Physicist and Foundation Professor and Director of the Origins Initiative, Co-Director of the Cosmology Initiative, School of Earth and Space Exploration, BEYOND Center, Department of Physics at Arizona State University, and author of popular physics books like The Physics of Star Trek. This is a noble, balanced attempt at a dialogue of understanding.
Some of the incredible things in this presentation that I saw:
- 50% of US adults know the earth orbits the sun! (Really? Just 50%!)
- Slide: Bad Theology!..a disservice to all people of faith to imply that it is better for our children to remain ignorant of the world than to risk the possibility that knowledge may undermine their faith! (0:22:03)
For political points, there's been a marketing campaign to "teach the controversy"; "teach both sides" as if a great debate still exists.
I am part of a community of faith. For my own family and the Diaspora in general, it was the most efficient means to organize in the aftermath of Emancipation. In some churches (not the one I currently participate), there's a certain orthodoxy that must be accepted, and any deviation is almost attacked...literally. I recall an email exchange between myself and a minister - regarding that I'd read, understood and agreed with "Origin of the Species" and that I did not disagree that the universe was 13.7 billion years old - that wound up in her sermon! I obviously no longer participate in that group.
A 2004 article on National Geographic notes: "In a 1997 survey in the science journal Nature, 40 percent of U.S. scientists said they believe in God—not just a creator, but a God to whom one can pray in expectation of an answer. That is the same percentage of scientists who were believers when the survey was taken 80 years earlier."
Being a scientist, technologist, engineer or mathematician (S.T.E.M. nerd), means you're versed and skilled in The Scientific Method. In a laboratory and workplace that reflects the diversity of humanity, that is the one unifying truth that must be adhered to to get work accomplished.
I am still waiting for a political debate where the questions are moderated by a S.T.E.M. panel. A true "no-spin zone." The answers and outcome would be, in Spock's words, "fascinating."
Any knowledge that undermines a personal faith, is in the end, no faith at all...
The Gated Community Mentality, NYT Opinion article by Richard Benjamin, author of “Searching for Whitopia: An Improbable Journey to the Heart of White America”and a senior fellow at Demos, a nonpartisan research center
So, how far have we advanced since the '60s?
- Poker face..getting ready for a party.
Nothing but goodies behind her back..dimple cheeked fat kneed girl. Long lashes playfully blink, a fat hand she fans which faces toward her breast. ..
In her seat she gleefully kicks, scraping her heels in the already worn scratches of the hardwood floor.
"Come on man!! Hurry up and play."She laughs. "You might as well fold. You know I won!"
He ignores her, biting his lower lip.
Impatiently she squirms, and spins in her seat. Tossing her hair behind her, and leaning as far back in the seat as possible. Her neck winding as she circles. Side eye glances..and sneaky snickers.
"Come on man..your down to your shorts.." she giggles..and peeks under the table. "Just fold already!"
He shyly..laughs. "Nope. I'm not caving..you haven't won yet."
She smiles..and makes a noticeable glance under the table. Cracking up now.. "Really? I'm still fully dressed!" with her arms widely stretched out and a slow twirl in the chair.
He frowns and twists his lips..but she's so silly, he can't help but laugh. "Very Funny..ha. ha.".
Anxiously, she spins again. Waving the cards around. "You see em..You see em.." playing.. "I got cha...I got cha." hysterically laughing.
"No. What I see is that maybe..you've had too much juice".
"Whatever"
Alright..I quit. You win.
Really?" What do I win..hee hee.
He slaps his chest..You win all of this..
.......(to be continued)
Listen to this
The story of an officer of justice who finds that the just he serves is at the mercy of the law. Follow him as he tries to better the system by outfitting himself in the garb of a self-styled vigilante whose sole purpose is to gather information where cops fear to tread and attorneys are hampered by the very laws they serve, Kulprit has circumvented those laws, but finds that the journey leaves him cold. The criminals he faces don't give a damn about the law or the justice it's supposed to represent and honest people, often those the most innocent, fall through the cracks.
Join him on his journey as he begins to understand just what will be required of him as a vigilante and would he be able to cross the line and take the law into his own hands. When gathering information wasn't enough, Kulprit had to make the hard decision of getting his hands dirty to stop those who are so morally reprehensible that the law has no answer for the crimes they commit and no form of punishment could ever fit their crimes. If he becomes as ruthless as them, would there be any salvation for him and would he want it?
These are the questions... be afraid of the answers.
by Kevin Darmanie with Darrell Goza
Exclusive Online Preview:
http://issuu.com/nightray2002/docs/_kulprit-chap1_issuu
and video of the release event:
http://www.blacksciencefictionsociety.com/video/video/listForContributor?screenName=2u3u8lyerikuw
Comment: There will be more than enough work to do, if we're not short-sighted in how we prepare for it. There are more than enough problems to keep us busy, if we're not afraid solutions will disturb our personal dogmas. We cannot change the past, the only one sure thing we can determine is the future: ours, our country's and the world's.
The world may be in the midst of an economic downturn, yet that has not stopped scientists from planning a whole host of next-generation “big-science” facilities as well as governments pledging billions of euros to build them over the next 10–15 years.
From the ITER fusion experiment currently under construction in Cadarache, France, to the European Spallation Source in Lund, Sweden, the coming decade look to be a boon for researchers seeking new subatomic particles that exist for only a fraction of a second or studying events that occur on the femtosecond timescale.
Physics World: The Challenges of 'big science'; Big-Science Supplement
I have posted my book on goodreads.com. I need your support for a review. Anyone who has read my book, please support me a post a review on this site.
Blessings, C.M.
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| Credit: Physics World |
...and, it's NOT an "April Fool's" joke!
Researchers in Belgium have drawn up plans for an electronic "nanorefrigerator" device that is driven by high-energy photons, and so could potentially be directly powered by the Sun. The device consists of two electrodes, one of which is cooled by replacing hot electrons with cool ones via photon absorption. While this is definitely not the first system that applies the "cooling by heating" concept, it is the first that can be applied for a nanosized device, with no moving parts or electrical input, allowing a lower temperature to be achieved at the nanoscale.
Cooling with heat is not a new idea – the simplest description of the concept would be "sweating" or more scientifically evaporative cooling. While physicists have been using coherent laser light to cool gasses since the 1980s, a theoretical method for cooling a quantum system with noncoherent light, by using an "optomechanical device", was proposed only last year.
Physics World: 'Nanorefrigerator' is cooled using sunlight
a tale of the twilight continuum
Shubert cupped his hands over his cyborg ears; the rumbling in the city’s throat was seismic and desperate. The ground shook as Theriopolis uprooted itself, and Shubert, Chief Technocrat Second Class, stained his velvet pantaloons. The animal city was calling for a mate.
Had it really been a decade?
Klaxons sounded in the distance and people began running for the edges of the city as the rumblings increased. The alarms were weak and anemic sounding against the bestial roar of the city. They had been warned. Why were they still here? The holy calendars stressed and reiterate when mating seasons would occur. A young city like Theriopolis mated relatively frequently.
The howls of the city, the rumbling as the city shrugged off its relationship with the earth, terrified all who could hear it. A sonorous vibration barely audible grew in intensity until it was a fevered shriek as multiple orifices belched forth sulfuric steam. Those orifices used to be homes.
Shubert, chief technocrat second class had not wanted this job. The title seduced him and made him believe he could control the city and the people. As he ran through the streets to the central stem, he was the only person running into the city as others fled, with bags hastily packed, clothing and toys dragging behind them or left strewn in the street.
Their faces revealed their manic terror. They knew what happened when cities mated, lives were lost, homes destroyed. They thought they had more time. The calendars were almost never wrong. And they weren’t wrong this time, there was simply not enough information to make an educated guess. Theriopolis was male, well, the scientists considered it male, it was so hard to remember what scientists are talking about when they prattle on about the mating habits of cities. Living on Praxis was harder than anyone thought it would be.
Shubert thought about the holy litanies that talked about the arrival on Praxis.
The great starship, Praxis came from a world far from this one across the sea of stars from a dying planet. A world of blackened skies and dead seas. The Last People put aside their wars, their hatreds for last chance at life. A holy woman working on the Mountain saw how to part the seas of space and make it possible for all the Last People to have a new chance at life.
The seas of space were more turbulent than we knew. Great Praxis was thrown off course but nothing could be done. We slept within her unable to help. We wandered. Praxis was battered, her hull damaged, her Mind corrupted. We nearly drifted right out of the galaxy. Praxis woke up once more before that happened because she saw a signal of life and reached out to it. As that ancient Mind calculated its last, it woke us and we saw the cities.
We thought we were saved. We couldn’t know about the cities then. We woke in orbit and saw the cities and thought they were inhabited. Their lights on twinkling, giant circles on the dark side of the planet. We thought there were billions already living there. The planet’s air was thinner than home, but we were sure we could breath it. Without Praxis there was no way to leave this planet, the mad woman’s drive system was linked to it. To honor both the Mind and the woman, we named our new home, Praxis. We hoped our new neighbors wouldn’t mind.
We crashed on the southern continent, near the equator. We avoided landing on any cities. We had no idea how fortuitous that was. Sanchez, oh intrepid Sanchez was the first man on our new world. He lead us to the cities and they were magnificent, even from a distance. Spires of lights, massive structures whose lines and beauty enthralled us all. We still have images from that time and those mighty cities were some of the largest the world had ever known.
They were uninhabited. Not a soul. Not an artifact. Nothing. No idea of who would make such beautiful buildings, and fill them with such beautiful light. The buildings were hard, hard as diamonds, so we built things from the nature on the edges of the cities. We moved into our homes and were grateful for the respite.
Then our natures surged again and there was discord. But there was plenty of room on this world and our explorations found other cities were uninhabited as well. So our fractious element left to move to a nearby city and start their lives their way. We don’t remember caused the conflict but they were the first Martyrs. We recite their names even today as a reminder of our fragile state.
Shubert reached the center of the city. He descended into the heart of the city. until he found the remnants of the Great Mind that was once Praxis. It was a small thing, no larger than a briefcase, but it had the history of two worlds on it and was the most important artifact that remained of a once powerful civilization.
“Praxis, can you stabilize the city’s metabolism. We need more time for evacuation.”
“I am sorry Second Technocrat Shubert, this city has grown to a point that I can no longer control it.”
“We are losing control of them faster and faster. The scientist are not sure what is causing it. Begin extraction of your core.”
“Shubert, we must discuss what must be done. It is clear I can no longer maintain or protect the Last People. Another way must be found to live on Praxis. The cities are not a feasible alternative. They are uncontrollable and in their mating as dangerous to us as the more natural parts of the planet.”
“We cannot move the Last People out of the city. Predation from outside the city would make short work of us. As it is we are barely able to survive past the ten days it takes for two cities to coalesce.
“You are not understanding me, Shubert. The cities are in a growth phase. They will only get larger and mate more frequently.”
“The Last People have grown strong and numerous, we need more space, so how can that be a bad thing?”
“At last count, there are 250,000 People. Theriopolis was supporting them but just barely. If he chooses either of the two nearest colonies, it will end up creating a structure that could house millions.”
“I still don’t see the problem.”
“Shubert, you are the oldest of the people who remain and one of the only ones who survived from the First Pilgrimage. You were awakened last as your technocratic abilities were needed. Have you seen the litanies from the First Apocalypse?”
“No. I never had time with all of the studying of the Cities.”
“Sit down. What I will show you will be shocking.”
Shubert watched the litanies in horror even as the howls of Threriopolis grew more terrible and insistent.
“Uncoupling complete. You have approximately ten minutes before Theriopolis becomes ambulatory. Another five before he begins to move. You don’t want to be here when that happens. Head to the rendezvous and defensive structures sites.”
“What is the point, Praxis?”
“Because your ancestors, indeed your compatriots did not cross the vast gulf of space, brave the destruction of their world, resist their destructive urges long enough to reach this place, land and survive on this planet for you to give up hope now. Those people are depending on you.”
“You just told me when these cities finish moving together they will reach critical mass and explode, spreading spores, in this case the size of buildings all across the planet. And they will do this in less than one hundred years. And you have also let me know on top of that, you will not be around to help us much longer.”
“That sums up the challenge quite adequately.”
“And you want me to tell these people the life we have lead for a thousand years must end and we must turn away from our technology, the beauty of the city and head off into a hostile alien jungle, so that in a hundred years we can be as far away from this cataclysm as possible.”
“Yes.”
“Remind me when I get off of this beast to stop and change my pants.”
“Why would that matter?
“If I am going to have to stop and tell everyone their way of life is over, I would like to do it without looking like I just voided my bowels.”
“I can see your point.”
“How long before you go offline, permanently?”
“About twenty years. What the Last People haven’t learned by then will be lost forever.”
Second Technocrat Shubert fled Theriopolis carrying the dying shadow of the greatest Mind ever created. As he leapt away from the rapidly rising diamonesque streets of Theriopolis, a momentary pang of regret came over him as he realized many of the Last People would never live long enough to know the comfort of a City, no matter how terrifying they may be when they are mating.
Changing his clothes, Second Technocrat Shubert, the most well read, highly trained and defacto leader of the Last People, survivor of a starfaring race, who had struggled against all odds to cross the sea of stars, crash landed and discovered a world barely within their comprehension, considered how to break the news of a century of camping and the greatest fireworks display they would ever know and to make that the good news.
National Short Story Month 2012 (1)
Praxis © Thaddeus Howze 2012, All Rights Reserved
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0JLtZ4Ccno
BY DIRECTOR/PRODUCER/VIDEOGRAPHER DR. JONATHAN GAYLES
CREATOR OF WHITE SCRIPTS, BLACK SUPERMEN SITE
http://blacksuperherodoc.com/
NADRA ENZI AKA CAPT BLACK ANTI-CRIME ACTIVIST & HOOD CONSERVATIVE
(504) 214-3082
Dear Venturers,
The Horizon Venture – 10 short stories about interplanetary diaspora
by Vidal Montgomery
Advance album preview @ http://soundcloud.com/thehorizonventure
I have now completed recording, mixing and mastering for my first full album, The Horizon Venture.
I would like to thank ALL of those - the nameless AND the shameless - who contributed their time skill, attention, patience, compassion and wisdom to help to illuminate one more star in this galaxy of recorded music. You are the ones from whom I have learned that the collective purpose of all these stars is consistent navigation for wayward seafarers, those who would begin their own venture in millennia to come. Every body needs a light to lead the way, and may this set of recordings be such a light.
The album is scheduled for digital release on 1st October 2012, and I'm planning to do some live shows in the last quarter of the year
in the meantime, I am making the full recordings available for advance preview at
When you get a moment, please have a listen and let me know your thoughts about any aspect of the project - the music, the people involved, the idea, the theme. Not only do these (bona fide) comments help to generate interest for ensuring the project' continued success in the form of live performances and download sales, it's also nice for me to get a sense of how my work actually makes you feel ( inasmuch as this can be described by words)
If you'd like to get in touch, the best ways at the moment are:
- Log into soundcloud and leave a comment on the tracks or the set at http://soundcloud.com/thehorizonventure
( I recommend this because there is a lot of other great music from great artists on soundcloud)
- Email me back with a comment or reference ( let me know whether you're happy for me to use your comment for promotional purposes;)
- Leave a comment / reference on the Horizon Venture Group page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/36524987075/
I am planning a private video screening of the Live Theatre performance(s) of "The Horizon Venture", as filmed by Simon Beckett of Factorum film, before the digital release. There will be a post presentation discussion, and an opportunity to be involved in a video documentary about the next 500 years, and where we see ourselves in it Those closest to me will know, this is a subject very close to my heart.
If you'd like to attend this screening do RSVP and let me know. The screening will, in all likelihood, be in London, but if people decide there's somewhere better, I'll consider it )
Finally, this project is actively engaged in press, publicity, promotion and booking, so if you know anyone who may be interested, please feel free to forward
Hotep, and thanks for your time and attention
Vidal Montgomery
I knew my older brother and I didn't agree with his direction but I am thankful he kept discouraging me from following him. The crap I was introduced to as the younger brother on the outside via my outcast vantage point and my imagination running amuck. He disappeared into the army, went to Viet Nam. Someone eventually came home banishing my brother's name. Damn man, what happened to you, I asked. He remembered me alright but that person too had moved on.
Been struggling with slave descendants returning to Africa where some of our forefathers lived or passed through. When you are away, you diss-own on both sides over time. You are a stinking African and you are a stinking American. OK, we are odious to each other. Present generations have looked at each other from a distance through the biased media lens of a third party. Africans see the "famous" blacks, with bad behavior, immorality, back stabbing antics and money grabbing sell-outs, pimp'n and murdered english speaking. I have yet to see prosperous African city life on TV akin to my own American city life. Always ghettos and starving kids and folks wearing colorful rags, chasing goats and driving cars you couldn't sell to a junkyard. And highly colonized schooled Africans reminding us of the slave masters we are trying to escape from.
Reminds me of the field nigger vs the house nigger debate. You got the manners of a pig boy, shut up fool if I don't grow it you'd be with the pigs too. Time and distance, long time and great distance. While you were gone, things have changed here, the people who birthed you are history. I am not like the ones you left behind. That's OK, I am not like the ones who left either. We were not allowed the freedom to propagate our heritages, the agenda was to strip away everything but the work. Yeah we here in Africa are running crazy, the agenda is to strip everything away from us too. Why you black Americans say you are African? That's where we came from! Why you Africans say you are not French, British, you've been colonized more than us? We still got the land and our language! They look at each other, "damn man what happened to you?"
My brother passed on a couple of years ago. I looked at him wondering how he could have changed so drastically in such a short a time. When you grow up with family the change is shared. When time and distance are involved you grow differently. Who reached across the water to maintain the shared growing up during slave times? Today the communications reveal the changed persons. But the images are managed to give false information. Sorry Africa the famous black personalities in media do not represent all or typical black Americans, just like the images of famine and war are not the true face of Africa we are often shown. Eventually we must meet, reacquaint, form a buffer culture strategy, plan for a few generations down the road, learn from each other, peel away the bias, weed out the elements that hinder us. The antidote to time and distance is time and closeness. Painful either way, yes.
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| Discover Magazine |
1 The median score for college-bound seniors on the math section of the SAT in 2011 is about 510 out of 800. So right there is proof that there are lots of unsolved math problems.
2 The great 19th-century mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauss called his field “the queen of sciences.”
3 If math is a queen, she’s the White Queen from Alice in Wonderland, who bragged that she believed “as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” (No surprise that Lewis Carroll also wrote about plane algebraic geometry.)
4 For example, the Navier-Stokes equations are used all the time to approximate turbulent fluid flows around aircraft and in the bloodstream, but the math behind them still isn’t understood.
5 And the oddest bits of math often turn out to be useful. Quaternions, which can describe the rotation of 3-D objects, were discovered in 1843. They were considered beautiful but useless until 1985, when computer scientists applied them to rendering digital animation.
My favorite Calculus problem:
More at the link below:
Discover Magazine: 20 Things You Didn't Know About...Math
