Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Rumba Nights

The DJ's R&B and Hip Hop selection was so good I had to roll up and big up the guy. His name was Jay something

"Thanks, we throw down Urban Sessions every Sunday"
"Seen, I've not been to Bar Rumba in  a minute"
"When the last time you come?"
"What, like '98, '99"
"Rah! That's last Century Bruah!"



That cracked me up big time. 15 years is so fcuking long ago.  I don't even remember the last time I went raving on a Sunday night.  Time used to be man went up to West End of London to rave, you know, Corks Wine Bar, Moonlighting, a few other clubs around Oxford Circus and Leicester Square.  I and a lady friend where looking for somewhere to shake a leg and thought why not West End, been sometime still.  It was like stepping out of a time machine. The same old gathering of students, white tourists who can't dance but determined to have a lot of fun, same African breddah manning the doors, same drunken merry lads, same honeys strutting.  We thought them a thing or two how to turned up the dance floor :-))

Black Jesus

Jesus Christ is a Black Man







Friday, 19 December 2014

#BlackWomenAreWorksOfArt

Black Lives Matter Rally - microcosm



Saladin is a special guy, very articulate, speaks from the heart and logical with it. For this reason I posted this video, because his articulation distills what is a very complex conversation.  Yes you can amend laws, change constitutions, what not, but what you can't do is legalize away the pain felt for over 238 years of the United States Of America's existence.  It's a healing process that, as the cliche goes, starts from within.  Black lives matter, but it must matter not from some standpoint of legal frameworks, it must matter because of our basic right to be human.  We don't need a law to enshrine that. It must just be. Subject to no debate or justification.  I despair when I see the profiling, overt racism, vilification of  the youth, casual disregard.

Casual deaths. Christ! casual deaths! who kills a man for selling loose cigarettes. I used to buy loosies all the time when I was broke and lived in a hostel. Certainly not a crime that should cost a black man his life.  RIP Eric Garner

And in the UK, though not as bad, these concerns do exist.  You only have to flip a few pages of the London Metro or the Evening Standard to see this.  We may worry about Po-lice killing black youth, but trust, this shit goes evening deeper.  This is not a fight for lives, this is a fight for the very reason for being.

"when I first got involved in women and childrens rights I was whispering, now I shout it out".  

It was an interesting observation from an outsider in the cypher.  The white lady voiced a sentiment I know a lot of white America feel.  I had a drink with my American Director last week and his view was that his country men were straight up morons.  He's married to a Korean lady and related first hand experiences of the institutionalisation of shit.  I asked him if he'll take part in the protests and such.  His reply was somewhat wishy-washy-ish and I realized this is a discussion he's never really had until a cold night in a London pub with an African guy, sympathetic, but who wouldn't really know what it's like on the ground.  24-hour rolling news and people are still not talking.

dialogue not legal frameworks

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

blocked in dystopia

Charlie Brooker's "Black Mirror: White Christmas" (Channel 4, 4oD). fucking hell.



Completely freaked out by an incredibly brilliant story.  If dystopia can be described...  dark, razor sharp wit, funny, depressing.  It's sci-fi tinged but it really is about people, the tech acting as props.  It's a story about love, lust, affection, betrayal.  I was once blocked on a chat forum and I found it disconcerting. You can't read their posts, can't read their replies, can't send them a message.  Can't broker peace.  It was over some trivial disagreement with someone who always thinks they are right.  The void was instant.  All the mail exchanges I had with them, the shared links, photos, all disappeared.  It's like a ghost in the machine.  They were there and not there, at the same time.  Twitter and Facebook have the same blocking feature, and though useful for the stalkers and pervs, people use it, like in my case, to block others they don't like/agree with (or on some perceived notion of whatever the fuck).



Looks fun and cool init?  Fast forward a few short years in time, with everyone wearing Google Glass implants, and you can actually block someone from your physical vision.  Point Of View tech.  Permanent.  Imagine a quarrel you can't resolve, a sorry you can't say, a knowing look you can't give.  Imagine emotional hell.  And then there's the flip side.  To misquote that guy from the Matrix, sometimes Ignorance really is bliss.  I won't spoil it, go watch for yourself.  Just get a blanket and some hot chocolate before you do so.  Merry Christmas

***


"The world I love is gone".

Love the line.  I'm not the biggest fan of Childish Gambino.  I'm not the biggest fan of anything.  I like this song "3005 Pt 2" because his singy singy rap style works a treat with the Chill trap sound.

Spirituality, Sex and Burlesque



Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Gollibe, translation



It is indeed a beautiful song.

Gollibe (dialect/spelling alt: Golibe, Goliwe) literally translates to Rejoice.  Let me try my hand at an Igbo translation, definition of the lyrics. Flavour's opening line is "It's been long I've searched for the hand of a beautiful good girl". Igbo is a very colourful language, loads of proverbs, praise, flattery, insults, jokes, whatever very much part of everyday conversation.  "Anwu nta atabe ya" - "pretty girl, mosquitoes haven't stung her beautiful skin".  Lol, Flavour, you too much.

He sings "Gollibe! Ugebe m o!". Gollibe, you are the mirror of my heart.  "Mma si na Chi", Beauty comes from the most high. Funny how the word "Chi" means the same thing in many languages. The Igbo have always had a pantheon of Gods so there was never the concept of one God.  If one says "Chi" one refers to his or her personal guiding spirit, an ancestor, a local deity, such connections.

An interesting video, bits thrown in that are not exactly Igbo in origin, like the parade of the maidens (South African?). Another is the King.  We have a saying "Igbo enwero Eze", "The Igbo do not have kings".  Igbo chiefs, kings and some Igbo kingdoms were very much a colonial invention, vassals empowered and answerable to the Colonial district commissioner.  The Igbo tribe was always ruled by consensus, policy debated and set by the Elders of the tribe.  The guy who plays the King, Peter Edochie, is a family friend and one of the greatest actors to come out of Nigeria.  He played Okonkwo in a screen adaptation of "Things Fall Apart" for which he won many awards. Legend

OK, this ain't an Igbo culture class and the director Clarence Peters is allowed his artist license.  I like at the end were it turned out the girl daydreaming, made me smile.  We all dream

:)) there, tried my bestisis! season greetings x

Words

I found myself singing the refrain to Sizzla's "Words Of Divine" in the shower this morning.  It's his one song that always calms me when I feel a schism in the spirit.  Sometimes things happen, truths come to light, you end up feeling .. not really knowing how to feel.



I invited an old friend out the other day, one whose life stream has intertwined with mine in the recent past.  He turned up looking frailish and much older than I last remembered seeing him.  I had planned to ask a lot of questions about the past, grill him for answers about stuff, clear the air, but the sight of him banished my thoughts.  Life is short and when one dallies with death other things pale, become not so important, not so pressing.  The fact that he was standing there before me meant it wasn't his time.  He told me of countless hospital visits, procedures, near death situations on an operating table.  He told me the story of his life.  It's kinda weird because you always imagine your peers being OK, ill health the reserve of the old and infirm.  My mantra is we will live forever.  I need to revise that, step up doing the right things, switch it up to taking care of body and soul properly.  I also need to seek closure on many things, adopt a different stance, because even though shit happens some people are still in your lifestream.  Ever present somewhere in your psyche. Who knows, fated to remain so.

Bumped into another friend yesterday night at my Son's school Christmas Carol service.  Him I'd just seen over the weekend just gone, having had a good rave with the ladies, foods and drinks.  But I was another person, cloaked, mask in place.  You know how sometimes you meet someone and circumstances mean you can't cultivate the friendship that much, but it blossoms anyway?  After a passing conversation where he talked about life and family, I had deliberately ignored to tell him our kids went to the same school, didn't think it mattered anyway (or should matter).  Afterall I was really a stranger.  Yeah, friendships happen like that, but surely the context should be clearer, no?  When I saw his daughter step to do her solo I just knew she was his, the mannerism, resemblance, everything.  Pretty girl.  I also knew I'd bump into him by the end of the service.  His face was loaded with surprise and lots and lots of questions written on his face as he tapped me on the back, questions for which I had no answers.  I felt a tinge of sadness, a bit angry for having being so guarded.  But I chuckled to myself, my Son having told me she was a very cool girl, happy go lucky, but doesn't always hand in her homework on time.  One of the lads so to speak.  And now they know their dads know each other? cue birthdays and family stuff.  Don't take a friendship for granted, no matter under what context it develops.  Dude, apologies.

And yet another friend, one who was once a very close brethren, family.  Went on holidays together, would drop by to my yard even when I was away working abroad, check up on peeps and shit.  Only he disappeared for 9 years with no explanation as to why.  I suspected it had something to do with his cousin's Swedish partner who I had grown close to and had helped get a job in my company.  I was working for a Swedish software house.  It didn't end well. his cousin resented me for being the rock he wasn't to his woman.  Things ended up fucked, cousin pussy hole bwai secretly effin' off to Gambia to get married to some other woman, me finding out and not knowing how to tell her, her finding out anyway, both cutting me off in the end.  My boy never said anything about the tangle of shit.  We met for a drink, him dashing off early after one, something about running an errand for his mother.  I didn't see him again for 9 years.  Everyone asked where my boy was at, what happened, was he OK.  I was blank each time.  Life moved on.  Then we bumped into each other at a Tarrus Riley concert.  Even though he's tried to rekindle the friendship I don't know (or can't remember) how to relate.  It's a strange one because in flashes the old union surfaces, and in the next turn we realize we our lives have drifted apart.  I'm a different guy from the happy go lucky of back then.