I'm not objective about this, since (in the interest of full disclosure), I must confess that I work for a charitible organization- a church actually- and so you may be inclined to read this and shake it off as the prattlings of a typist "wiping cheeto dust off on his underoos and blogging from mommas basement". Deeper still, I should also tell you that I have been homeless before, incarcerated before and the recipient of much of the goodwill that local charities operate in the Albany area.
I'm not a tourist. I'm a DP like those for whom I maintain this blog. I came to Albany broke and with a broken hand. Unable to work. Nothing but the clothes on my back. Knowing no one who would provide me money, a meal, a way to get clean, a change of clothes or a roof over my head. I was not ready to die or starve and was fully prepared to survive by any means necessary as I have done in the past and if you don't believe me then you can pull my record-11 different county jails- prisons in 4 different states. Strong Armed Robbery. Bank Robbery. Possession with intent to sell and deliver. I gets mine.
This is nothing to brag about. This is my record and I only bring this up to let you know that I am not a bleeding heart homelessness theoritician or a pampered intellectual Nazi darwininst with no knowledge of the subject. I'm no tourist. I got skin in this game.
With this I feel it is important to write what my fellow Charity workers will not say but, nevertheless, feel deeply towards the objects of largesse.For your own sake, don't take this kindness for weakness.
I know how it is. On the street, one who can be constantly hit up for money, dope, a drink .... is considered to be a sucker. a sap, a lame, a mark, a vic ,a punch. Weak minded. Overly trusting. Easily manipulated and gullible. So when the hustle dries up and that woman gets tired of you snorting krispy kremes and grinding ass prints in the couch with your unwiped feet up on the furniture while she works, or that sugar daddy turns sour and changes the locks while you're out spending his hard earned money with Jody, you end up at a shelter like the one I run. You're contrite at first and you've got a spin on the story designed to elicit sympathy from strangers. And because I give you a place to lay your head and something hot to eat and toiletries to replace the ones you left behind and maybe some clean clothes, you consider it a come up. You think you've moved past that little glitch in your game. You're back in hustle mode. Stop and think about where you are.
You're a half step from the curb. from the asphalt floor and the concrete sheets. America is a family oriented, money centered society and if you don't have some of both, you are effectively stripped of your citizenship and subject to chattel status. Vagrancy laws. No Loitering signs, fences and trespassing ordinances are society's ways of removing men and women from the sight(comfortable illusion) of those who believe that America is something other than it is. Something fair and better. Welcome to the world of the outcaste.
You cannot feed yourself. You cannot shelter yourself from the elements.
But by the Grace of God food and shelter are provided. It is the Grace of God that does for you what you cannot do on your own and to deny or misinterpret this Grace is to prepare yourself for a lifetime of dependency and want and the misery that comes from dissatisfaction.
Grace is, by definition, unmerited favor. Unmerited being un earned, undeserved not paid for. If you die in these streets starved or frozen, then it is no ones fault but yours. Do you understand? You're in America and the quality of your citizenship is proportional to the value of your possessions. You can blame whoever you like, but if you believe that you deserve something you haven't earned, then you are delusional. It is God's Grace that sustains you and nothing else. We who work for most of these Charities that feed clothe and house you understand that we are simply dispensers of God's Grace. But we are also stewards of it. That means we must be responsible with what we have and be prudent distributors of it. Would it be prudent to turn the keys of the storehouse over to a drunk? A thief? A junkie? A man or woman who cannot even do for self? No. I don't think so. I wouldn/t let a Junkie hold me wallet or a drunk drive my car or an idiot do my taxes.
If this sounds like an insult to you on the other side of the counter or the serving window, it's not. Remember, I was on the same side you were on not long ago. So I'm a living testimony that being on one side is not a necessarily permanent state, and doesn't disqualify you from being on the other. But there were times when I would not have been a good steward of God's grace. My purpose is not to downgrade anyone, but to sound an alarm, a wake up call for the rest of your life. "steel sharpens steel, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend". I'm not your friend if I sugar coat the bitter pill that is reality. I'm not your friend if I let you fall off a cliff because I didn't want to offend your ears with a warning that you were moving in the wrong direction. I'm your friend because I bring it to you raw without judgement about how you got here. If I didn't love you, I'd let you go quietly into that good night. I'm inciting you to rage against the dying light.
If you are trying to overcome your circumstances, then you are in a struggle. to be continued
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Didya Hear
about Cruz? I told you about him last month in the Opposite sound. I was at work not long ago, when my co-worker K comes up to me and says
Did you see Cruz?
Naw man, I haven't seen that cat since last month. He said he was joining this roofing crew down in Quitman.
Where's Quitman?
Close to Valdosta.
Oh. Well anyway, apparently he was breaking into a house when a neighbor saw him and hit him upside the head with a brick and detained him 'til the cops got there.
Whaaat?
Yeah, that's what I thought but there it was on WALB. Such a shame idn't it.
Yeah. It's a shame.
I was reading an article about the number of homeless people in Georgia. Thelma Watson was quoted as saying that there were "over 194" homeless people in Albany/Dirty county. I was in the same "Coalition for the Homeless" meeting where Mrs Watson proclaimed that those numbers were "way off". I agreed and questioned their methodology. I don't want to sound like self appointed expert on the subject. Homelessness describes a condition that is too fluid to paint with that word. It's like using the word "God" to describe the ideals of 6 billion people. It's inadequate. Having said that, I have been homeless at certain times in my life and have been running a homeless shelter for a few months now, so I can say with great confidence that I had more "hands on" experience than anyone else in the Coalition meeting.
Ms Watson, after using the bogus numbers provided by the Ga Department of Community Affairs which did not even contact the two largest Homeless shelters, nor the various Drug Rehabs around town that are housing(but not home to) untold nunbers of homeless alcoholics and addicts. It doesn't bother me that she would use a number that she knows to be "way off". After all, she did qualify her statement with the words "more than".
What made me laugh was her statement that the economy and the lack of jobs are the prime causes of homelessness. Naw baby. Now you're just being politically correct, not that there is anything WRONG with that. PC is simply another way of saying "civil or respectful". It's gotten a bad name from bigots who decry the erosion of white privilege. No Thelma. The primary cause of homelessness is Drug and Alcohol abuse. Period. You can put sugar on shit all day and it will still taste like DooDoo.
Sure, there are victims of house fires and layoffs and women fleeing the pimp hand etc. But for those who remain in a semi permanent state of homelessness, drugs and alcohol are most responsible for cushioning the fall to the point of grimy comfort. That which eases the sting keeps the stung one from fleeing the stinger.
Did you see Cruz?
Naw man, I haven't seen that cat since last month. He said he was joining this roofing crew down in Quitman.
Where's Quitman?
Close to Valdosta.
Oh. Well anyway, apparently he was breaking into a house when a neighbor saw him and hit him upside the head with a brick and detained him 'til the cops got there.
Whaaat?
Yeah, that's what I thought but there it was on WALB. Such a shame idn't it.
Yeah. It's a shame.
I was reading an article about the number of homeless people in Georgia. Thelma Watson was quoted as saying that there were "over 194" homeless people in Albany/Dirty county. I was in the same "Coalition for the Homeless" meeting where Mrs Watson proclaimed that those numbers were "way off". I agreed and questioned their methodology. I don't want to sound like self appointed expert on the subject. Homelessness describes a condition that is too fluid to paint with that word. It's like using the word "God" to describe the ideals of 6 billion people. It's inadequate. Having said that, I have been homeless at certain times in my life and have been running a homeless shelter for a few months now, so I can say with great confidence that I had more "hands on" experience than anyone else in the Coalition meeting.
Ms Watson, after using the bogus numbers provided by the Ga Department of Community Affairs which did not even contact the two largest Homeless shelters, nor the various Drug Rehabs around town that are housing(but not home to) untold nunbers of homeless alcoholics and addicts. It doesn't bother me that she would use a number that she knows to be "way off". After all, she did qualify her statement with the words "more than".
What made me laugh was her statement that the economy and the lack of jobs are the prime causes of homelessness. Naw baby. Now you're just being politically correct, not that there is anything WRONG with that. PC is simply another way of saying "civil or respectful". It's gotten a bad name from bigots who decry the erosion of white privilege. No Thelma. The primary cause of homelessness is Drug and Alcohol abuse. Period. You can put sugar on shit all day and it will still taste like DooDoo.
Sure, there are victims of house fires and layoffs and women fleeing the pimp hand etc. But for those who remain in a semi permanent state of homelessness, drugs and alcohol are most responsible for cushioning the fall to the point of grimy comfort. That which eases the sting keeps the stung one from fleeing the stinger.
Friday, June 13, 2008
The Opposite Sound
I haven't done much on this Blog since I started it, mainly because not much has changed. Lots of school kids out, but not as many as I would expect. Cable and personal computers are conspiring to turn the next ones into a generation of cave people. Doesn't anybody play pick up baseball games anymore?
Saw my man Cruz the other day. Just got out in Americus on a probation violation. We were talking about Joints in different states: Georgia, Carolina, Kentucky, New York, Connecticutt, Maine, Michigan and Oklahoma. Up north, they let you have a television set and street clothes. Some places you can get a job and make like $5 an hour or better, depending on the minimum wage. In those same places a free man can't get a job. It's logical. Inmates are highly motivated and work cheap and show up every day. Sort of like America's domestic immigrant labor. But if you have to do time it's the best way to do it. The way he described it with a smile and a near longing disturbed me. He's unemployed. A skilled roofer and painter. Living in the homeless shelter. He's about 40 something.
"I did 10 flat in NY state on an armed robbery. 3 in connecticut. 2 more in New York. 4 in Maine. That doesn't count Juvy."
"Gahddamn, Man, That's MOST of your Adult life!"
"Yeah, man. I'm gettin tired of that shit."
We smoked another cigarette and just sat in silence for a while. Then he asked "Where's everybody at?"
Some of us are back on "da skreets" some of us are back home in jail. Yeah, I said it. Back home in Jail. When the Jailers know your jumpsuit size, favorite cell and all your visitors by first name, then Jail is your home. Fuck it. No need to lie about it. If you've spent most of your adult life in Jail, then you're institutionalized and programmed to feed the system by letting these pigs and courts and prisons suck little bits of time from you like a clutch of polite Vampires. Oh they call you "Sir" and "Ma'am" and give you serial numbers with mysterious meanings (and ammunition to play Cash 5 when you get out) . They give you a schedule to live by and dates to look forward to. They take you aside and say "You're not as bad as so and so.." and "I was just like you..." and "There but by the grace of God ..." and a dozen other inanities designed to draw your attention away from the fact that they are paying mortgages, buying cars and putting their children through college on the back of you and the time you spend locked up. I can hear them now "I wish I was out of a job. I wish there was no need for prisons...". You're a Gahdamn liar. No Prison? No Job for YOU. Good chance you'd be in this cell with me except for that grace of god thing you like to throw in my face. God graced you but not me huh? Fuck you.
I'm not going to waste energy on a lecture about the straight and narrow path. You've heard it before. But dammit Your people survived Fulani traders and the Jihad of Don Fodio. They were led through Goree, the Door of No Return and the Middle Passage. We lost our names and the the names for our Yoruban and Yammassee gods. We ran away and formed Maroon towns and fought alongside Osceola. We survived the plantation, the klan, Jim Crow and Apartheid and got so good at surviving that we've neglected the art of LIVING.
So while you're on vacation from Blaylock or Jackson or the hundred other jails and prisons they've built for you to spend and expend your life energies, think about the traps they've laid to facilitate your return to those homes away from the free world. To make it easy and comfortable for you to let your life drip away. The last time I went to prison, I counted seven doors that shut behind me. Clink.clink.clink.clink.clink.clink.clink. I could swear I heard the rattles of ghosts and their chains. Shovels striking coffin lids and hammers on anvils and shackles. Clink is the sound of death and it's visitation. It is the opposite sound of Living.
Saw my man Cruz the other day. Just got out in Americus on a probation violation. We were talking about Joints in different states: Georgia, Carolina, Kentucky, New York, Connecticutt, Maine, Michigan and Oklahoma. Up north, they let you have a television set and street clothes. Some places you can get a job and make like $5 an hour or better, depending on the minimum wage. In those same places a free man can't get a job. It's logical. Inmates are highly motivated and work cheap and show up every day. Sort of like America's domestic immigrant labor. But if you have to do time it's the best way to do it. The way he described it with a smile and a near longing disturbed me. He's unemployed. A skilled roofer and painter. Living in the homeless shelter. He's about 40 something.
"I did 10 flat in NY state on an armed robbery. 3 in connecticut. 2 more in New York. 4 in Maine. That doesn't count Juvy."
"Gahddamn, Man, That's MOST of your Adult life!"
"Yeah, man. I'm gettin tired of that shit."
We smoked another cigarette and just sat in silence for a while. Then he asked "Where's everybody at?"
Some of us are back on "da skreets" some of us are back home in jail. Yeah, I said it. Back home in Jail. When the Jailers know your jumpsuit size, favorite cell and all your visitors by first name, then Jail is your home. Fuck it. No need to lie about it. If you've spent most of your adult life in Jail, then you're institutionalized and programmed to feed the system by letting these pigs and courts and prisons suck little bits of time from you like a clutch of polite Vampires. Oh they call you "Sir" and "Ma'am" and give you serial numbers with mysterious meanings (and ammunition to play Cash 5 when you get out) . They give you a schedule to live by and dates to look forward to. They take you aside and say "You're not as bad as so and so.." and "I was just like you..." and "There but by the grace of God ..." and a dozen other inanities designed to draw your attention away from the fact that they are paying mortgages, buying cars and putting their children through college on the back of you and the time you spend locked up. I can hear them now "I wish I was out of a job. I wish there was no need for prisons...". You're a Gahdamn liar. No Prison? No Job for YOU. Good chance you'd be in this cell with me except for that grace of god thing you like to throw in my face. God graced you but not me huh? Fuck you.
I'm not going to waste energy on a lecture about the straight and narrow path. You've heard it before. But dammit Your people survived Fulani traders and the Jihad of Don Fodio. They were led through Goree, the Door of No Return and the Middle Passage. We lost our names and the the names for our Yoruban and Yammassee gods. We ran away and formed Maroon towns and fought alongside Osceola. We survived the plantation, the klan, Jim Crow and Apartheid and got so good at surviving that we've neglected the art of LIVING.
So while you're on vacation from Blaylock or Jackson or the hundred other jails and prisons they've built for you to spend and expend your life energies, think about the traps they've laid to facilitate your return to those homes away from the free world. To make it easy and comfortable for you to let your life drip away. The last time I went to prison, I counted seven doors that shut behind me. Clink.clink.clink.clink.clink.clink.clink. I could swear I heard the rattles of ghosts and their chains. Shovels striking coffin lids and hammers on anvils and shackles. Clink is the sound of death and it's visitation. It is the opposite sound of Living.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Northside Meals
OKay podnuh. New in town? Broke? Passin through? Stranded in Albany and waitin for some Western Union love? I'm gonna drop a Jewl that should take some stress off. If you can walk, you won't starve. Don't believe me? You better ask somebody. Or Hustle up 2 bits and make a copy of this.
Players
Albany Rescue Mission(ARM)600 Monroe
Salvation Army(SALLY) 300 w 2nd
First Baptist Church(FBC) 200 Jefferson/ 400 Broad
First United Methodist Church(FUM) 300 Flint/ 400 Jefferson(Jackson)
St Marks Episcopal(ST MArk's) 300 Jefferson
First Presbyterian(PRES) 300 Jackson
Sherwood Baptist(Sher) West Side
Faith Community Outreach(FAITH) 400 w Society
Arcadia Church (ARCAD) 800-900 Jackson
Community Christian Church 2nd Ave/Slappey
Hines Memorial Baptist Church(HINES) corner of Madison & Roosevelt
Monday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY
Lunch-ARM;FAITH
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Tuesday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY
Lunch-ARM;FAITH;ST M;ARCAD
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Wednesday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY
Lunch-ARM;FAITH
Dinner-APR;SALLY
Thursday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY( Sherwood on Dray Line)
Lunch-ARM;FAITH;StM
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Friday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY (Mother Davis on DRAY Line as the spirit moves)
Lunch-ARM;FAITH
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Saturday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY (CCC on Dray Line 1st& 3rd )
Lunch-ARM; FBc 1st&3rd; FPRES 2nd
Dinner-ARM
Bunday
BreakfastARM;SALLY;Hines; CCC(1st & 3rd)
Lunch ARM
Dinner FUM
Snack Packs available during the week as available from First UMC, First Pres, Albany Outreach, and Charlene at the tag office. Now that you now what's being served where, make sure you find out the when. The only way to be on time is to be early.
Players
Albany Rescue Mission(ARM)600 Monroe
Salvation Army(SALLY) 300 w 2nd
First Baptist Church(FBC) 200 Jefferson/ 400 Broad
First United Methodist Church(FUM) 300 Flint/ 400 Jefferson(Jackson)
St Marks Episcopal(ST MArk's) 300 Jefferson
First Presbyterian(PRES) 300 Jackson
Sherwood Baptist(Sher) West Side
Faith Community Outreach(FAITH) 400 w Society
Arcadia Church (ARCAD) 800-900 Jackson
Community Christian Church 2nd Ave/Slappey
Hines Memorial Baptist Church(HINES) corner of Madison & Roosevelt
Monday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY
Lunch-ARM;FAITH
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Tuesday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY
Lunch-ARM;FAITH;ST M;ARCAD
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Wednesday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY
Lunch-ARM;FAITH
Dinner-APR;SALLY
Thursday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY( Sherwood on Dray Line)
Lunch-ARM;FAITH;StM
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Friday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY (Mother Davis on DRAY Line as the spirit moves)
Lunch-ARM;FAITH
Dinner-ARM;SALLY
Saturday
Breakfast-ARM;SALLY (CCC on Dray Line 1st& 3rd )
Lunch-ARM; FBc 1st&3rd; FPRES 2nd
Dinner-ARM
Bunday
BreakfastARM;SALLY;Hines; CCC(1st & 3rd)
Lunch ARM
Dinner FUM
Snack Packs available during the week as available from First UMC, First Pres, Albany Outreach, and Charlene at the tag office. Now that you now what's being served where, make sure you find out the when. The only way to be on time is to be early.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Peace to Sister Sandra
We are the disinherited, the misfits, the poor and downtrodden. We quietly buck the social call to normalcy. Family doesn't get it. They always ask "WHY?". "She was so......" ;"He was such a ...."; "they were doing so good before....". And shake heads , cluck tongues, wring hands and lament as if we were dead. We quit jobs because we don't feel like going anymore. Too tired. too beat, too proud. But they treat us like criminals. We quit school because we were old enough to quit and had to help Mama with the other kids, or got pregnant with the one that points a finger and screams CRACKHEAD in our face or we made more money on the hustle than that high school graduate cousin changing grease at Church's (before the we got busted). For every dozen of us, there are 12 stories for how we got here. At this table. On this street. In this line, In this orbit , On this track. We are the exceptions that disprove the rule. Good people lose homes. Eat at Soup Kitchens. Need help to get by. We run the same circuit every day. The number of places we can go to escape the heat or cold or rain without being captured and put on display at Dougherty County Jail shrinks almost daily. NO LOITERING signs at the HOMELESS Shelter-How cruel is that? Broke-in-America is a crime waiting for a charge.
We make some of you cringe. You make assumptions about our character without knowing our names. The nasty look from a lady with a fish on her tag (must be a PISCES cuz she aint no christian). The man with a bumper sticker that proclaims his church's name who frowns and speeds past, afraid he'll have to make a christian decision if someone asks him for change. We draw the bile out by just living and refusing to die, just to make someones morning drive more pleasant or spoiling a kodak moment while going through the park. We are the test of your faith.
"How can you say you love God whom you have never seen, yet hate your brother whom you see everyday?"
Fuck it. I don't bow down to you or anybody else. I'm broke. Why do you care where the money went? Will you give me enough for shelter tonight? Why do you care why I don't have a job? Are you going to give me one? Or do I add yours to the mountain of rejections that I already have? Fuck You. I see the world you live in, the fear you drink like water and piss on those around you, stinking the planet up with the stench of your fright. Misery loves company and we leave you lonely. You hate to see us laugh. You think we know what you do not. We make you paranoid. Why, you wonder, would we opt to live outside of your zoo? We hustle yards and lots, collect cans and scrap iron. Work day labor and sell blood and clean houses when we could go to work like you and be too afraid to lose a job to stand up like a free human being in the face of some one's shit. You puppet. Dance Shine Dance. Run that race like a hamster in a wheel in a cage. Indulge yourself in that madness of finetuning the machine designed to kill you. Death row inmates plaiting nooses for the state.
Huh BREATHE. No right no wrong just venting because sister Sandra is dead. We met on the track. We laughed and smiled. I liked her a lot and I will miss her.
RIP Grandma Dynamite aka Sandra Williams peace and Power to the people
We make some of you cringe. You make assumptions about our character without knowing our names. The nasty look from a lady with a fish on her tag (must be a PISCES cuz she aint no christian). The man with a bumper sticker that proclaims his church's name who frowns and speeds past, afraid he'll have to make a christian decision if someone asks him for change. We draw the bile out by just living and refusing to die, just to make someones morning drive more pleasant or spoiling a kodak moment while going through the park. We are the test of your faith.
"How can you say you love God whom you have never seen, yet hate your brother whom you see everyday?"
Fuck it. I don't bow down to you or anybody else. I'm broke. Why do you care where the money went? Will you give me enough for shelter tonight? Why do you care why I don't have a job? Are you going to give me one? Or do I add yours to the mountain of rejections that I already have? Fuck You. I see the world you live in, the fear you drink like water and piss on those around you, stinking the planet up with the stench of your fright. Misery loves company and we leave you lonely. You hate to see us laugh. You think we know what you do not. We make you paranoid. Why, you wonder, would we opt to live outside of your zoo? We hustle yards and lots, collect cans and scrap iron. Work day labor and sell blood and clean houses when we could go to work like you and be too afraid to lose a job to stand up like a free human being in the face of some one's shit. You puppet. Dance Shine Dance. Run that race like a hamster in a wheel in a cage. Indulge yourself in that madness of finetuning the machine designed to kill you. Death row inmates plaiting nooses for the state.
Huh BREATHE. No right no wrong just venting because sister Sandra is dead. We met on the track. We laughed and smiled. I liked her a lot and I will miss her.
RIP Grandma Dynamite aka Sandra Williams peace and Power to the people
No Time
Before he heads to the bus station to build and trap flies, my man D (Darius) drops a jewl that makes me laugh because its so true. We were snatching from the ethers downtown when a cat fresh out of jail comes over to bum a square and cry on our shoulders, well not on our shoulders but he did shed some real tears. He loves his woman and she loves him, but she is bi-polar and has a cyst on the brain and has had him on a roller coaster ride for the last year of the three they've been together. In jail and out of jail and back to jail again. Always because of her drama he says. Fucked up a job paying 1200 a week cause he couldn't go to work wondering where she was. Supported her various habits through petty crime. Beat up men that she sends mixed signals to. Took beatings from men she sent mixed signals to. "I just don't know what to do", he says. D just shrugs and says"leave the bitch. There's a big ass asteroid headed this way right now and aint no time for the bullshit."
Truer words have seldom been spoken. There is a big asteroid headed this way and if something doesn't happen, then we're all fittin to see whose been right or wrong. Good or Bad, Naughty or Nice. Streets made of gold, crystal cities, valhalla and endless war. 70 veiled virgins and a case of viagra. Whatever happens to be your idea of the afterlife. I imagine that if one polled the nation you would see very few responses along the lines of "Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to the lake of fire" or "I'm pretty sure it's gonna be hell". No one really believes that, because it would ruin the whole purpose of the threat of everlasting punishment. Hell would not be Hell if it was your destination. There is something wrong with a scenario in which a true believer sees hell coming. There are too many ways to get out of it. Too many last minute confessions of faith. Deathbed conversions .Last rites, Bullocks to slaughter, Bribes(tithes) to pay etc... Always an out. Always a trap door to escape the clutches of Justice.
If you are a true believer in a living God ( and I don't mean a regular church/temple/masjid attendee), then you have to believe that there is a payoff for not killing the lady in front of you at Harvey's who brings 22 items to the 10 item express line or stealing for the helluvit, sleeping with your brothers wife etc... Why fight the instinct without the reward? Deeper Still, the payoff should be greater than pleasure/relief forfeited from not staying one's hand from sin. Otherwise "mere anarchy is loosed upon the world".
No Time is closing in on us. 2000 years ago John relayed the words of the Ancient of Days and they were "Surely I come quickly". Is he riding the Asteroid?
Truer words have seldom been spoken. There is a big asteroid headed this way and if something doesn't happen, then we're all fittin to see whose been right or wrong. Good or Bad, Naughty or Nice. Streets made of gold, crystal cities, valhalla and endless war. 70 veiled virgins and a case of viagra. Whatever happens to be your idea of the afterlife. I imagine that if one polled the nation you would see very few responses along the lines of "Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to the lake of fire" or "I'm pretty sure it's gonna be hell". No one really believes that, because it would ruin the whole purpose of the threat of everlasting punishment. Hell would not be Hell if it was your destination. There is something wrong with a scenario in which a true believer sees hell coming. There are too many ways to get out of it. Too many last minute confessions of faith. Deathbed conversions .Last rites, Bullocks to slaughter, Bribes(tithes) to pay etc... Always an out. Always a trap door to escape the clutches of Justice.
If you are a true believer in a living God ( and I don't mean a regular church/temple/masjid attendee), then you have to believe that there is a payoff for not killing the lady in front of you at Harvey's who brings 22 items to the 10 item express line or stealing for the helluvit, sleeping with your brothers wife etc... Why fight the instinct without the reward? Deeper Still, the payoff should be greater than pleasure/relief forfeited from not staying one's hand from sin. Otherwise "mere anarchy is loosed upon the world".
No Time is closing in on us. 2000 years ago John relayed the words of the Ancient of Days and they were "Surely I come quickly". Is he riding the Asteroid?
Track Notes/Jackson Street Blues
There are at least 3 crack houses within rock throwing distance of the Sally and they all have been raided in the last week or so. A word to the wise being sufficient, I would advise fellow travellers on the same orbit on my rotation to stay clear if ya stridin dirty. I aintcha daddy and I aint got no bail money and if I had it then your dumbKNOWyougot warrants ass couldn't get it after you ignored this sweet advice. The Horror-scope says its time to change playgrounds and playmates if you can't change toys.
First Baptist is moving to Lee County, but will continue its First and Third Saturday Meals at it's current location on Broad across from SunTrust and Jefferson across from the Post Office 11:30 Am. If you can't act like a human being with these folks or the First Methodist Folks (5:45 pm) every Sunday or the Christian Covenant Ministry on First and Third Sundays ( (8:30 am) or Bro Larry's people (3 times a day until further notice) or Faith Community (daily lunch 11:30) or the episcopals (tuesday and thursday) 11:30am or the presbyterians (second saturday snack packs) then keep your ass at what passes for home and stop selling your stamps to the Dope Man for fitty cents on the dollar. Ungrateful Bastards. Say what? Well, an old friend useta tell me that if you throw a rock in a pack of dogs, the one that hollers is the one that was hit. Holla.
The Dray line seems to be drying up. It's partly a slow economy and partly because all those hungry, thuggish/ruggish looking cats want to Bumrush the trucks and , no surprise, your potential employers get cases of Reginald Denny complex and L A riot Flashbax. I wouldn't come through there either and I can fight and have been to the Chain Gang twice! How about the first man there gets the first two tryouts. Number two gets the next 2. If a break needs 3 men, then the first three get to audition.. and if nothing pops off after 2 chances man number 1 slips to the back of the line and so on. When word gets out that the line is organized and user friendly, things will pick up. Until then the Line will be victim of word of mouth of scared breaks who need your services but can't risk getting car-jackd or robbed. And those of you haters who throw salt on each other. What business is it of yours or a Breaks what a man does with HIS money? Keep that salt in your pocket and stop putting it on your brother!
I've worked off the Line before and I know there aint a snowballs chance in Hell that this suggestion will be taken seriously. But-Real Talk- If we don't regulate ourselves somebody else will do it for us.
First Baptist is moving to Lee County, but will continue its First and Third Saturday Meals at it's current location on Broad across from SunTrust and Jefferson across from the Post Office 11:30 Am. If you can't act like a human being with these folks or the First Methodist Folks (5:45 pm) every Sunday or the Christian Covenant Ministry on First and Third Sundays ( (8:30 am) or Bro Larry's people (3 times a day until further notice) or Faith Community (daily lunch 11:30) or the episcopals (tuesday and thursday) 11:30am or the presbyterians (second saturday snack packs) then keep your ass at what passes for home and stop selling your stamps to the Dope Man for fitty cents on the dollar. Ungrateful Bastards. Say what? Well, an old friend useta tell me that if you throw a rock in a pack of dogs, the one that hollers is the one that was hit. Holla.
The Dray line seems to be drying up. It's partly a slow economy and partly because all those hungry, thuggish/ruggish looking cats want to Bumrush the trucks and , no surprise, your potential employers get cases of Reginald Denny complex and L A riot Flashbax. I wouldn't come through there either and I can fight and have been to the Chain Gang twice! How about the first man there gets the first two tryouts. Number two gets the next 2. If a break needs 3 men, then the first three get to audition.. and if nothing pops off after 2 chances man number 1 slips to the back of the line and so on. When word gets out that the line is organized and user friendly, things will pick up. Until then the Line will be victim of word of mouth of scared breaks who need your services but can't risk getting car-jackd or robbed. And those of you haters who throw salt on each other. What business is it of yours or a Breaks what a man does with HIS money? Keep that salt in your pocket and stop putting it on your brother!
I've worked off the Line before and I know there aint a snowballs chance in Hell that this suggestion will be taken seriously. But-Real Talk- If we don't regulate ourselves somebody else will do it for us.
News Flash
The Sally on 2nd Ave is now serving a light breakfast on Sunday AMs. I have it on good authority that this is an insidious ploy to attract more church attendance from the community it serves on a daily basis. Horrors. If you're on the rotation then you should know that Hines Baptist on Roosevelt and Madison serve a weekly Sunday breakfast and the good people of Christian Covenant provide a tasty, not too crowded plate on 1st and 3rd Sundays. Special shout out to Morris and Buck for demonstrating a Jesus like love to the Dray Line in particular and to the homeless in general. They still pop up on the Line on Saturdays with Sausage Biscuits Hot Coffee and a good scripture reading to get your day off right. Hats off to Mother Davis who brings it to you raw on 'Friday Mornings when she's feeling up to it and to the good folks from sherwood who drop jewels and biscuits on Thursday mornings. Matthew 25 "...Come you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom that has been prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For when I was hungry, you fed me....."
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