In the park of the central place there is a baobab tree, strange and imposing and mysterious, it manages to survive, like us.........Why a baobab tree, trunk can store water, it has flowers, fruit that been food stuff for Africans for eons. Even me with my urban upbringing have heard that the baobab was a tree of life. I have a big tree in my back yard, I would gladly chop it down and plant a baobab.
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In the park of the central place there is a baobab tree, strange and imposing and mysterious, it manages to survive, like us.........Why a baobab tree, trunk can store water, it has flowers, fruit that been food stuff for Africans for eons. Even me with my urban upbringing have heard that the baobab was a tree of life. I have a big tree in my back yard, I would gladly chop it down and plant a baobab.
"Wheels of Ezekiel Blackman, there is a real mystery here, we need answers!!" Yes Rappin, we need answers, answers that will turn the tide of black destinies everywhere." "Looks like the Penquinator was here first. He painted Egypt white so that they could get access and no one would question." "Except for us Blackman, the tinge of gray is a clue." "Right again Rappin, they can disguise it, but they can't hide it." "Timbuktu U was secretly involved in a project to map the universal truth into the DNA stream." "Wow Blackman, did that work?" "Yes Rappin, with excellent results, but in some...........which is why we had to hide it."
This is Ron Eglash, mathmatician, poking around the Afrihood to find fractal "science" in common use. Was this knowledge the coursework at Timbuktu Univ.?
"Hey @$#%@! Forgot about us?"
"Uh-huh, this dude must be half dead, staring at the
sky and #$%@. Like he’s in love."
Michelle smiled to herself when Larry said this. They
had him surrounded and he had no strength to escape.
"C’mere #$@%face. Thought you were just going to get
away with no problem huh?"
Larry grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up
from the ground. He smacked him a few times in the face
increasing the trickle of blood from his nose into a full nosebleed.
Mike was helpless.
When Mike‘s blood got on Larry‘s clothes, he threw
Mike back on the ground. Mike landed flat on his back
and managed to kick Larry hard in the shin but it had little
to no effect.
"Uh, are you trying to do something?" asked Larry sarcastically.
In retaliation, Shakuan walked over and hit Mike in
the leg with his knapsack a few times. Mike was scared but
didn’t show it on his face, nevertheless, Kenitha could see
the fear in his eyes, she glared viciously at Mike before she
spat on him.
Michelle kneeled down beside him and wiped the blood
and spit from his face with her hand. She then
wiped her hand on the front of his jacket, brushing hand
across his chest. Mike tried to reel back but was entirely
too weak.
"You look so yummy right now. I could just eat you
up." Michelle pouted.
She held him by the chin and kissed him on the lips.
It was a long sensual kiss that caught everyone off guard.
For some reason, in spite of the situation, he kissed her
back thrusting his tongue in her mouth.
In the same instance, she licked his tongue and then
punched him hard in the gut. He fell back to the ground
clutching his stomach. The punch should have knocked
him out but it energized him. He felt almost fully recovered
regardless of how her bony knuckles made his
abdomen feel.
"Is she trying to help me? Did she collect some of the
suns energy earlier and placed it directly in my body?
What is she thinking? Could this have anything to do
with how she grabbed me by my nuts earlier? Why does
she torture me everyday anyway?" Mike’s mind raced with
inquiry.......
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The point is can it be possible in the real world but too far gone for the mainstream and a risk for the cutting edge. Sort of like the sweat suit. When it first appeared in daily clothes context, it was high-tek fashion. The movies had advanced people wearing them, devoid of cultural markings, cerebral and sophisticated. Today the sweat suit is everyday wear in the sports context and the around the house lounge-ware, way more versatile than PJs.
I wake, shaking the dreamtime from my eyes. The circle in the middle of the room beckons me to stand tall but relaxed. The bed folds behind me, you gotta love Murphy beds, the treadmill comes from the floor. Putting the ear-buds and visor in place the room is transformed to a vast vista and I standing on a tiny platform can see jagged rocks and canyons of unexplored depths. A voice asks if I am ready to make todays leap of faith. I say yes and step forward. The view changes like the sky is tearing in every direction and the sound swallows me. I hear my heart race as the rhythm tells my body to run, jump, kick, glide and free fall landing where I started. I sit on a bench with a virtual friend talking about todays agenda while playing wari. I bathe and dress thinking reality is a different world unpredictable and scary.
Driving by home after home I always wonder how others live.
Sun-Ra just didn't do it, nor did John Coltrane. Archie Shepp had this ...........Picannany or can you back back doodlebug, and Sonnyboy Wilson and a few more when I hear them I am leaping into warp drive. I also liked Eddie Harris who was so advanced. His electric sax was complex and articulate. He was not taken seriously then or now. Everytime I heard Eddie Harris move beyond popular music I soar and kick stars out of their orbits.
Another big banger for me was Weather Report, I thought Joe Zawinal was magic and Wyane Shorter too for a good stretch. The worst is when something is trendy and dies. I did like Miles Davis and the Bitche's Brew thing but he never left the planet for me. The ones who pushed the cosmic consciousness and Egyptian religion/culture revisited never made me feel right, though Alice Coltrane was spacey.
I think jazz folks today are stuck on earth. I haven't heard many venture out into new worlds of late. Since Eddie Harris there hasn't been one Black jazz musician to pickup the electric sax and extend it. We now have the EWI (Electronic Wind Instrument) and no young jazz lions have enlisted, other genre yes. The hottest instrument since the vibraharp is the Chapman Stick. If you ever watched touch or tap guitar playing you'd know what I am talking about. So that note I came across Kevin Kieth and the Electronic Jazz Ensemble.
When I am in the sci-fi M.O.D.E., that is when the art visions start. If I played an instrument I probably be in space now. I like music that causes that exhilarating brain shift, like being suspended in time.
– W.J. Slim
Lying in my bed tossing and turning, trying to find that sweet spot to fall into a deep and fulfilling rem. Then I got to it, right there, and off i fell. My mind took me to it's favorite place, a nice recurring dream, where I am in the arms of a lovely woman, her curly locs entwined within my fingers, our legs locked in place and our mouths doing a dance of the tongue. mmmmm i just love it here, no issues no worries just non stop love making and it just keeps getting better and better. Im oblivious to anything and anyone, especially the young korean girl who has just entered my home. She is looking for me and yelling my name as loud as she possibly can.
"Mr James..Mr James.."
I am still deep in this sleep yet I can distinctly hear my name being called over and over, and then a tug ...
"mr James, wake up , you got to come quick come quick , shop burning"
I awoke ..well sort of with a thick hard on and wondering how the hell she got in my house and the dogs didnt bark?...
"Ok Ok im awake Im awake.. call 911 it will be alright"
"no ..911 already called we need your help mr james please come hurry now..."
She bolted down the stairs and out the house.. I put on some jeans, sneakers and my leather coat and ran behind her.. as I rounded the corner i could smell the fire, the smoke, and see the girl.. The store, Ms Choi's Needful things and pawn shop, is where my heart was housed, amongst the many other odds and ends.
As i looked upon the firemen fighting the blaze I started to wonder , what will become of me now?
"mr James mr james I cant find my Oma"
we walked over to the man in charge at the scene to see if Ms Choi had been found or might have been on a stretcher..or something!!
"a woman ran back into the building, I have my men searching for her now"
just then two firemen arrived with Ms Choi, she was wearing an oxygen mask, and immediately grabbed her grand daughter.. I was happy to see her small frail frame.. and overcome with emotions.. this little hard woman had been caretaker to my most precious gift, and now she was in our arms but still defiant..
"lemme go lemme go.. Mr james .. "
"Ms Choi please sit down and rest, dont worry about the shop"
"shop?" she looked up at me with those warm wrinkled brown eyes, "mr james I am insured.. i can recoup all of my investments, plus i managed to save most of my more treasured pieces over there on the corner, policeman watching over it for me..I no trust him tho so Sung Ye next door neighbor is watching him too....I not worried for me.. I worry for you"
"Ok dont stop your babbling now, out with it"
"Mr James, you know of love and happiness, they usually go together, just like joy and pain. people often forget that when you decide to love to also prepare for the pain, you hid your heart away in hopes to spare you of the pain, but what of it now Mr James? Do you not have joy, do you not have happiness, you have love for the things you want to love, these loves are unconditional, they require little to no work on your part except that you be you..hmmmm but the passion of a lover and the need for a companion requires work and it also comes with pain.."
"Ok im not liking this.. where is my heart .. what are you saying?
"mr james " Every great leap forward in your life comes after you have made a clear decision of some kind"
Your heart is in there.. the fire...do you want it? Go get it"
I had a decision to make, right then right now, I didnt know what to do, so i just ran into the store ......
"Mr James Mr james ..to the left in the wardrobe.." was what the young korean girl shouted...
"oma you sent him back into those flames ..he could die"
Ms Choi looked up at her grand daughter .."hmmm he could die that is a possibility .. "Man is only truly great when he acts from his passions."
I made it past the firemen who yelled obscenities at me and gave chase... I got through the door way and headed left, the smoke was burning my lungs, but i saw the wardrobe .. it was a flame but one door had fell off its hinges and I was able to reach in and grab the box just as the firemen reached and grabbed my ass!!
"you are one dumb mutha fuka.. you could have died in here"
"yes but if I hadn't gone in I might have died anyway"
I made it back over to the ladies and really had not looked into the box. It felt different and I just assumed that it was the same one. The building was now fully engulfed and was burning out of control.. It would be only a matter of time before it was all over.
I turned to Ms Choi, and said "here you go,..at least I was able to salvage this"
"Was it worth the pain Mr James? the fear of loss? the realization and the passion to fight for something you wanted that badly? "
"it was worth it, damn worth it"
"good ..cause this is not the box that holds your heart, and now it appears it has burned up in the flames Mr James.. gone is your heart that you hid here to protect it from pain and hurt.. what will you do now?
I stood there, stammering for the next 10 minutes.. I had this deep emptiness and feeling of woe, yet I had this hope from where I do not know.. but hope rings eternal they say..and just when a tear fell from my cheek to my chest , Ms Choi gave me a thick sterling bracelett.. enscribed
There are seldom.If ever, any hopeless situations, but there are many people who lose hope in the face of some situations.
I thought about those words and smiled..
"im going to be all right Ms Choi.. I will go speak to the policeman and see how we can move the rest of your things"
As i walked over to the cop, i noticed that a lovely lady with long flowing curly locs walked over to the ladies and sat with them for a minute .. I wondered what they were talking about and really wondered who she was..
"ms choi, I just came by to thank you for my purchase yesterday and low and behold the store is on fire, are you ok ?
"ah yes i am quite ok my love.. and how are you enjoying the nice velvet box ?
"Oh it is so lovely I have yet to open it and deposit my things inside but I am quite sure it will be ok.thank you again.. by the way , who is that over there with the policeman? He seems to be quite interested in us it seems"
"Oh him, nice man. he is the former owner of that box..you should thank him one day"
"well bless him, I will do just that right now..hmmm hope my hair is holding up"
as she walked up to me, I looked over her shoulder and saw the little girl nudging Ms choi something fierce..
"oma how could you.. you sold his heart to the lady"
"shhhhhhh let us watch my plan in action..."
and so it goes.......I shook my head and rolled over , damn had I been asleep all this time? was I still dreaming? the shower was running, I guess I would soon find out
do you have a safe place for your heart and your love?
~~ Today I am writing about my most recent journey to "Madame Sung Choi's house of Needful things and Pawn Shop emporium" Quite a place..
I walked in, bounding and so ready ..so dam ready to pick up my heart for which I pawned some 13 years ago. As I walked throughout the shop, some new and old oddities struck my attention as things in this shop always do.
Hmmmm the worn and tattered band of leather, simply called the "humility bracelet" always catches my eye. I usually try it on just so that some of that essence can rub off on me.
I avoid like the plague, the mirror "of self indulgence" most don't notice the plaque above it until they have fully gazed into it.. and then its a bit too late..
aaahhhh here we are, the loves lost and found section...you know you are here when you see the sign above your head that reads
"If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear pain or loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater."
As i move through the section, I see that the good madame has added more thoughtful sayings to adorn the "Needful things" that people covet...
I picked up one, a very nice and un assuming pen. Light to the touch, but was inscribed "He who tries to forget a woman, never loved her."
hmmm I thought, and pondered those words for a moment...
"aaahhhh mr james, you have picked up a pen that weighs an easy 60lbs, the weight is of a heavy heart, but you have no heart for love of a woman so it weighs nothing to you now does it?
I turned to see what little troll was bothering me again, and but of course it was the madame.
"So mR James ...you do know I totally enjoy ..how does my grand daughter say..Play with your head hehehe"
"ahhh Ms Choi u do play with it well, so tell me, any takers for my heart as of yet?
"Nope..yours is a bitter one Mr james, not many women want bitter these days, not even the ones that are confident they can change such"
I was a bit taken a back with the comments but moved on.."So can I see it?
"but of Course MR James, it is yours after all"
and with that she removed a medium sized Romeo y Julieta; cased in black velvet, cigar box. It was magnetic and seemed to pull me even closer to it, as I gazed upon the gold seal that secured it ""I am a lover and have not found my thing to love."
Everything in my body ached as took the box into my grasp, and held it close to my chest; the fears and tears streamed down my cheeks and onto the box as i pulled it away.
"hmmm it still has the same affect on you Mr James, even after so many years gone by. So why are you here again Mr James?
"I just wanted to hold it, to see...."
"To see what!
She came closer to me, and all at once as I recoiled back this little ol korean woman had my throat in her hands and was lifting me off the floor!
"You are here for what? To claim or just to amuse yourself? You remember what the deal was and what you must tender in order to obtain it Mr james ..don't you remember Mr James..you do know what I speak so speak..speak !!
"I will if you let go of my fucking throat..I managed to pull away from her grip..I know who I am, I am a man, who knows what love is and what it is not; who has learned the hard way to love without fear and most of all to acknowledge it and not dismiss it."
"So you have grown since we last met..hmmm do you still break hearts mR james?
"I am no heart breaker, but I have broken hearts not intentionally mind you and I have made amends for such, I cannot help who loves me even though I may make it quite clear that I am not ready for such. yet it happens none the less"
"Many lessons u seem to have learned since the last time, but also many women Mr James..many women too"
"Ms Choi, i am a man, and a single man at that. I do have needs, and even given into the temptation of the flesh, I still know enough not to promise women all that I cannot give; not to say the things they want to hear,I just put me out there and let them decide for their selves"
"hmm well then are you ready to tender mr james?
"The words you want to hear, i will not say, but I know them cause they are etched into my soul "Lonely is a man without love."
and with that I turned away and marched out of the door, I was glad that i could stand the strain of holding my heart again, and at the same time the utter dis belief that no one wanted such a heart.
I walked down the lonely alley, and turned to wave at Ms Choi and her granddaughter, as i turned i heard something that gave me hope...
'Grandma you lie so bad, you know that many women come in and inquire about the heart of Mr James, yet none know or have the correct tender for it. Even the one woman just yesterday had the correct tender but you denied her. Why why grandma do you protect this more than any other collectable?
the old woman paused as she watched me walk away, and then uttered some prophetic word indeed "The best proof of love is trust."
----Below is an article that appeared in my hometown newspaper----
A Waterbury native who recently started a small publishing company with friends and family has re-released two science fiction chronicles he wrote as part of a series as its first two projects. The Virginia-based Rage Books LLC was founded by Waterbury native Malcolm Dylan Petteway. Petteway grew up in Waterbury before going on to graduate from the U.S. Air Force Academy and California State University. A 20-year veteran of the Air Force, Petteway flew B-52s, logging more than 3,000 flight hours and 300 combat hours. A military analyst who received a Meritorious Service Medal and other awards including some for Operation Enduring Freedom, Petteway's, new company released "Homecoming" and "Revelations" ($14.50 each, Rage Books), from his science fiction series "Osguards: Guardians of the Universe." "Homecoming" tells the story of the battle between the planets of Kulusk and Chaktun and two Chaktun princesses who fled Earth to lead a universal peacekeeping organization. “Revelations" also delves into related plots of interplanetary war and conflict unfolding across planets and eras that entangles characters from FBI agents to inhabitants of other worlds.
— Brynn Mande -- Waterbury American-Republican
A burst of cackling laughter caught Adanna’s ears, pulling her eyes from the burning pyre. Beyond the Isat there were a few other women and men that served the Witch Priest, kingdoms and peoples who by coercion or choice had given their allegiance. But among his vast army they were but a small number. Most that called the Witch Priest master may have walked on two legs, but they were not men and women--they were something else.
She stared at the still laughing forms in the distance. Hyena men. Golden and spotted hair covered their human-like bodies, which were adorned with little more than ragged pelts that hung from their waists. Most held short crude swords and spears, jagged edged shields or other weapons. Red tongues lolled between sharp teeth fitted into long black muzzles on their bestial faces.
How Hyena men had come to be, none truly knew. Some said they were from the scorched northern plains, on the edges of the Desert Sea--the progeny of women seduced by sorcerers who could take the shape of hyenas. Others claimed they were once a beautiful people, struck down and cursed for their selfish vanity by the gods. Yet, still, some said the Hyena men were creations of the Witch Priest himself--willful men reduced to half-beasts by his power, now forever bound to his service.
Whatever the truth of it, Hyena men now swelled the ranks of the Witch Priest’s armies--mindless, vicious, perversions. Even now, as Adanna watched, a pack of them bickered amongst themselves. Growls and barking mingled between their maniacal laughter, as they seemed to fight over a bit of meat--that looked suspiciously human. As ill-fortune had it, the man-beasts now stood in her way.
Drawing up to full height, Adanna walked towards the pack. She set her face into a scowl, a hand resting casually on her fire knife. As she stopped before the Hyena men they ceased their bickering, looking up to her and emitting a series of low snarls, baring teeth in warning, their sharp ears laid flat. Adanna did not back down, instead fixing them with a look of her own, the flames in her eyes rising high to give them a fierce glow. The show of force was enough. As one the Hyena men broke apart, whimpering and moving off, but never taking their baleful gazes from her.
Walking past them, Adanna did not release the grip upon her knife. One had to be careful to show strength among these man-beasts. Cowards they may have been, but as a pack they would attack anything that looked weak--even one another. Keeping her stern demeanor she made her way carefully across the burned-out village. More than mere Hyena men marched beneath the Witch Priest’s banner, and not all were so easily cowed....
--Excerpt, Redemption for Adanna, a short prequel/character sketch
Writing in today's fast pace world has lost the art of the science or should I say the science of the art. When I began writing, I did so because I had a story I needed to tell. The story was a part of my imagination that I opened up for the world to see, touch and feel. I bore my soul and heart to strangers in hopes that something I wrote stirred them…moved them…provoked them…or just plain entertained them. But somewhere along the way, the artist that put words to paper has to become someone else in order to get the story out.
The artist must decipher demographics, marketing strategies and business plans. The artist must learn how to promote, sale and spin words and ideas into 30 second sound bites. The artist must tailor the work for another purpose. In short, the artist must stop being an artist and become a businessman.
Becoming something other than an artist is something that most artists cannot do without pain. Under a traditional publishing arrangement, the artist gives up control to the businessman. That businessman changes, edits and reshapes the artist project…normally after much consternation; but now the project sells. The artist may lose part of his or her voice in the process, but royalty checks can soothe the hurt somewhat of a lost voice.
What about the self-publisher? Can the lack of another person running the business end of your project hurt your chances to push your project? There are people cut out to sale and there are people cut out to create. Self-publishers must do both, and they must do both extraordinarily well.
For the self-publishers out there…how is your journey from artist to businessman?
Malcolm Dylan Petteway
Rage Books LLC
WWW.RAGEBOOKS.NET
ENDURANCE CHAPTER SHMT
voiceless screams. From her chest up, her body smoldered
in brownish smoke and then finally she keeled over.
Michelle stopped her attack. The moonbeam gradual-
ly dissipated and the dust particles that could be seen from
it’s light slowly hide from vision.
"I always liked bunny rabbits," snickered Michelle.
Mike remained silent taking everything in, uncon-
sciously licking the beads of sweat that rolled down to his
lips.
He could tell that Michelle had mental issues like
many youths his age. Michelle walked toward Mike and
he jerked back. She abruptly grabbed his hand and started
to run. Although confused about what just happened,
Mike willingly followed her.
After a while Mike recognized that they were going in
the direction of his house, he wondered how she knew
where he lived. He squeezed her hand tight and then took
the lead. No words went between the two as they were
running. Just glances. Their hands began to perspire and
they could both feel their hearts beat rapidly. Mike took
the scenic route to avoid any conflict with his neighbors.
When they finally got to his home he fiddled nerv-
ously with his key trying to get it into the keyhole.
Michelle smirked, as though the difficulty Mike was hav-
ing meant something else. Before pushing the door open
he gave Michelle a quizzical look. As soon as they got
inside, Michelle grabbed him by the waist and pulled him
close to her. She wrapped her arms around him and
squeezed him hard.
He did the same. Their cheeks touched and the feeling
was warm. This was the kind of warmth he almost forgot-
ten. Michelle started to cry and shake uncontrollably. His
face became wet with her tears and he held her tighter.
They rubbed their faces together and finally looked into
each other’s eyes.
Now he knew that she never meant him any harm and
that she held a passion for him that was both wild and
earnest. She closed her eyes slowly as if she was offering
him her life.
She kissed him softer and deeper than she did before..............
'AWAKENING' CHAPTER WA
My mother’s garb caressed my figure well, much to my
surprise. The metallic black material hugged all the feminine
proportions of my body like a long lost lover. Only if
I had one to speak of, my Ka yearns for the touch of a
Nefer Aha.
"Serqet, you look radiant! You are becoming more like
the woman our mother is with each passing moment,”
said Gebsennuf.
Even though our mother transitioned into the higher
plane some time ago, Gebsennuf never referred to her as
in the past tense. I guess he was right. After all, our kind
has existed for what other life forms may consider an eternity.
My rambling thoughts were interrupted when
Gebsennuf took my hand and led me through the corridor
to Eb N Ma‘at, the counsel of elders’ chamber. I spent
a lot of time in the many passageways of our craft, just gazing
into the vastness through the portals. I stared for
moments on end at the nothingness holding everything in
place.
Although I have seen this cosmic beauty throughout
the duration of this lifetime, I am still captivated by what
my eyes behold. Now I will use those same eyes to hold
something else in captivation––my ancestors and without
their knowing. I am to take an active role in shaping their
future, my future, hmmm. We are coming closer to the
chamber, I can smell the sweet scent of Netcher permeating
from its walls.
Gebsunnef stopped in front of its doors, letting his
hand slip gently out of mine––farewell my brother. He
initiated the ritual necessary to raise our vibrations in order
to enter.
Upon entering the Eb N Ma’at, my eyes were struck
by the brilliance of its interior, I could not help covering
them with my hand. Through the shielding of my fingers,
my vision slowly adjusted to the light and the seated figures
became visible.
A total of nine members were present, all of whom
were focused on me intensely. Although their eyes reflected
peaceful intent, I could feel pure Enkhet Sekhem
emmanating from them. As they began their evaluation I
remembered what my mother taught me about centering
myself and remaining unattached to things.
During my early years her teachings were drilled
methodically into my consciousness, nevertheless my eyes
still raced around the chamber frantically. My mouth grew
increasingly dry along with my rising anxiety.
The next moments were to severely test my mental
fortitude. My entire life experience was to be literally
weighed against a feather.
As a child I thought the stories were just fantasy used
to direct children towards the right actions. Now that I
stood on a levitating disc opposite another disc holding an
actual feather on it, my mind longed to wipe away the
childish feelings of that memory. All my deeds and
thoughts ranging from honorable to unprincipled were to
be taken into account.
I nervously looked towards Gebsennuf ’s direction
searching for some type of consolement. He abruptly
turned his head in my direction and a stoic look grew on
his face––showing not even the slightest sign of support.
For a moment I shuddered about the deeds I was not
so proud of before realizing that I had nothing to fear. I
am Sat N Netcher and nothing can hide within Netcher
nor escape from it. Slowly my confidence returned to me
as the scale holding the feather teetered a little, before
coming into balance with my experiences.
A low hush fell on the counsel followed by what
seemed like never ending silence echoing throughout the
chamber.
“Serqet is worthy to carry on the work of her ascendants,”
announced Elder Djehuti in his quiet yet thundering
voice.
“As of today, she will begin her assignment,” he added.
“Dear Serqet, you have been chosen to help nurture
the growth of your ancestors. We will not tell you exactly
how to do that, that will be up to your discretion,” proclaimed
Elder Aset.
“ANKH UDJA SENEB. SHEM TCH EM HOTEP,”
they all exclaimed in unison.
As I was lead to the center of the chamber by Elder
HetHeru, her long locks brushed across my forearm as we
walked. Her scent was invigorating to the senses yet calming
to the heart.
This brief encounter with her helped to settle my
nerves and reminded me of my mother. Before Elder
HetHeru parted from me, she opened my palm then suddenly
scratched me across the top of it––it burns.
She smiled, purred, then took her leave to join the
others. She must be trying to tell me something but can’t
say it directly.
Once in the center of the chamber, I eased my body
into the Ma‘at posture. As I spread my arms a finely knit
web of energy draped down from the underside of my
arms. I see that my diligent practice of this posture has
served me well.
The counsel formed a circle around me with their
hands outstretched in the Ka pose. They began chanting
the words of power, getting lower and lower in tone as
they continued. Their voices fluctuated all about my body,
entering my cells and filling them with sweet words of
Hekau.
In my mind’s eye, the image of a young man gradually
became visible, along with a group of youths his age
pursuing him. Without warning, all my senses were bombarded
by his anxiety, causing my body to jerk violently
trying to maintain the posture.
Everything he experienced I received three-fold due to
our difference in sensory perception. My muscles tightened
in my legs and arms, steadily increasing with tension
beyond my immediate control.
Ahhh. I now see how to distance myself enough to
receive information without extreme empathy. Suddenly, a
thin sheet of energy formed between myself and this individual,
allowing me to see the events that were taking
place without experiencing the anguish.
In an instant I became aware of all the major events
that took place on the earth during the last few centuries.
The collage of events that swept through my mind carried
an underlying feeling of despair.
In addition to this, I became acquainted with all their
customs and cultural colloquialisms. Strange. This is the
first time I laid eyes on him yet, I know him the way I’ve
known my brother. This person, called Mike, is my ancestor,
along with the ones pursuing him.
Amazing. I…I know everything about them. It is as
though all their life’s information is being pumped directly
into my memories. Hmmmm. Something else I am
coming to realize, at some point I lost consciousness of my
body and was placed back in my chamber.
I can not recall when it happened or who moved me,
I am only aware of the link between this collective of individuals
and myself. I do not know when the ceremony
ended, but it left me with the awareness of a fine thread of
vibrance attached to the base of my skull.
At the other end of this thread were the five individu-
als. Their thought patterns are so garbled its making me
feel a bit uneasy. Wait....I am unable to move…I am paralyzed.
ARRRGH!!! Trying to move my body brings about
an adverse effect drawing me physically and mentally closer
to their realm. This uneasiness of my vibration diminishing
and my form becoming gross in composition is
stressful. However, the sudden strain on my spirit allowed
me to regain balance but much of my sekhem is spent.
As much as I want to help Mike, all I can do is observe
and wait. I feel helpless. I do not know what to expect to
happen or what exactly I need to do. No one explained
anything to me other than that I am responsible for the
future of my generation.
My only option now is to settle my emotions and
reluctantly watch Mike take a vicious beating from those
who he would eventually call family. This must be what is
referred to as irony.
End Chapter
Join us on the 100% grown folks weekly update by Penelope & Otto telling you all you need to know in news, entertainment politics, current events and finance.This episode enjoy our can't miss interview with Gayle "Delicious" Johnson, author of the recently released, sexually charged novella of revenge and redemption, "You Might Get Lucky."Lucky's name seems 100% spot on accurate. Married to a beautiful woman, a father and successful businessman it seems that everything in his life has turned out right. Orphaned at and early age then taken in by loving adoptive parents as a young teen, Lucky really looks to be an appropriate name. But under the smooth surface of success there's trouble brewing as dark secrets of sexual terror and manipulation seek to control and manipulate him and somehow...the name Lucky doesn't seem to fit too well anymore.Listen as Gayle "Delicious" tells us how she created these shocking and all too real characters!!
Saturday 3/06/2010 9:30pm CST 90 Minutes CLICK ON THE LINK AND JOIN US TONIGHT AT 9:30pm CST and call 718/508-9683 and TELL US WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND!
As a child I watched many action adventures, read comic books of superheroes and was captivated by science fiction television shows. However in the seventies, as I entered my teen years I noticed that the role models on television shows and in movies as well as in books were white. Upon further review, I concluded that in the entertainment media African Americans were portrayed as comic relief characters, sidekicks, pimps, hustlers or thieves. I remember having an argument with my friends over who was better, "Shaft" or "Superfly." Needless to say, I was in the minority. Then I noticed most of my peers who feared they would not go to college aspired...actually aspired...to become pimps, hustlers and drug dealers. Unfortunately, about ninety percent succeeded. I attribute this to the lack of role models and the bombardment of negative stereotyping in the entertainment media. So as a teenager, I created my own role models through story form.
In my English and Creative Writing classes, I wrote police dramas, adventure and science fiction stories, with African American protagonists. The story of the Osguards is my science fiction creation that began as an honors English class writing assignment in 1978. It garnered laughs from both white and black students in the class because they could not fathom African Americans as leaders, especially commanders of complex and intricate spaceships. But I received praise from the teacher for a bold effort.
Several years ago, due to a professional setback in my career, I resolved to focus my frustration in a positive manner. So I decided to write. I chose science fiction because of the freedom of imagination the genre allows. It also allows me to inject other genres like mystery, crime, love or adventure stories into it.
My question to you...why do you read science fiction?
Malcolm "Rage" Petteway
http://osguards.com/
http://ragebooks.net/
Tonight Penelope & Otto review "The Book of Eli" where all the black women at?! We discuss the Obama Healthcare summit, wonder what's with Atlanta and these ant-abortion 'endangered species' billboards, *Spoiler Alert!* - When is it okay to reveal the big reveal? We give you The In Like Flynn weekly giveaway and bring you the phrase of the week. as well as discussing ways to get you back to work. Come join us on the 100% grown folks weekly update where Penelope & Otto will deliver all you need to know in news, entertainment politics, current events and finance. This and more on this installment of In Like Flynn!
Saturday 2/27/2010 9:30pm CST 90 Minutes CLICK ON THE LINK AND JOIN US TONIGHT AT 9:30pm CST and call 718/508-9683 and TELL US WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND!
