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THIS IS THE WORLD AS I HAVE SEEN IT
View My Guestbook
Sign My Guestbook
Hey ya'll. Please take a minute to sign my Guest Book, even if just a few words. I really appreciate your input and feel fortunate to be able to read your reactions, and (if cool with you) being able to communicate back with you, as well. I plan to leave all comments that you write up and viewable to the public, unless of course you write some dumb shit on my page, I will fuckin delete you quicker than a cat 'll lick its ass. With that said, please, feel free to say what you think and tell how you feel-- I sure did.
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And while you are here, please check out my pictures under Images in the blue bar: There's one with me and Saul Williams (unfortunately I forgot to use the flash, so all you see is two black silhouettes with a set of smiling teeth); and there is also some of my attempts at original photography.
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Here is a little bit about what you are about to hear.
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WITCHDOCTAS:
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This was the first CD that I ever made, right? Created (Fall 2000) with the intent of throwing light upon covert activities of the LAPD, Chico PD, and whoever the fuck else, in their attempt to frame me, Jamel Shakir, for murder. This is all true shit. I just made art out of it. I did not say that what I believed at that time was right, I said that it is true. At the time, I thought that one of the primary goals of the White Power Structure here in the US was to systematically subdue and/or eliminate the Black Man (particularly Alpha males). And it was this theory, a visit from the Chico Police, plus a pinch of sweet paranoia that created the poetic story of The Saga within Witchdoctas.
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PROMOS:
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This epic poem (created Spring 2001) is not just a ghettofied version of the Greek myth of Prometheus. This is my mothafuckin life story- on disk- part two. Because if Witchdoctas sets this shit up for disaster, Promos devastatingly knocks the bitch out: capturing the execution of this tragic picture with the most chilling of fuckin accuracy. I am the encrypted Prometheus, and the elevation of my plight, suspicions, and fear is encased in every fuckin moving thing that your ears detect when you listen to the story. The sarcasm is my attempt at licking my wounds. The joke was indeed on me, for, I thought that I knew everything-- but the joke remains on those who believe that they still do.
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