Monday, January 14, 2013

Hate the game and the playa

Today I went to family court to contest my estranged wife's motion to renew her restraining order she originally got about ten years ago. The judge, a mouse-like white woman I have never seen in family court. I should have know it will be all bad shortly. My estranged wife, let's call her thumper, is an attorney. She is an educational trainer for the courts in implicit bias. Basically, she trains the courts to see their own bias in dealing with Black men. Here is we're he irony begins. In her filing, she basically  pulled every trick in the book to get the court to see me as an angry black man and see how scary I am. As a six foot, 230 plus lb man with three foot dreds she didn't have to do much. I'm sure I scared the bejezuzout of most of the people in the room as she recounted the time the Oakland police dept assaulted me at our sons hospital room at her bequest. Only in her reselling, I waste aggressor against four primed Oakland best. She claimed I bloodied the, as I essentially asked for the ass kicking I received that day. I had multiple contusions, a black eye, a huge thigh contusion from the little dude hitting me over and over and over in the same place while two other officers held me down and the forth was angling for the best position to spray pepper spray into my mouth and eyes....oh I did I mention hat I have branch asthma? See this was my fault because thumper call her high school friend who had always had a crush on her, stg Joyner to have me arrested for 
burgery...of my own home!!! They came to my sons room ready to fight err, arrest me. Thumper insist that she asked old to arrest me outsider the hospital. Judge mousey was just eating all of this up. She had made up her mind the moment she saw me. Didn't matter that I am actually an assistant professor of anthropology and I am an upstanding member of my community.thumper turned on the bs, Err charm as she brought everything I had everyone to her but exaggerated to the ninth degree. Judge mousey allowed her to talk ad nausea and when I would try to charm in, I don't rebuked. Scary Black man must be controlled at all cost. Thumper had absolutely no proof of anything she said and yet she was allowed to rant unchecked and her facts unverified. I don't really have any recourse as I don't have the money to fight her and I'll never be given a fair shake. I am still seething from the amount of lies she was allowed to tell and how my rights have been abridged. My fault for marrying a lawyer. Im so frustrated right now I don't know what to do. I just want run away...please let this job come through overseas. I bet she would love that...FUCK YOU

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Escapism(s)

Trifflin knows no bounds!I once had a friend who we used to call "King Trifflin". He was all that and more. I know he suffered from a severe case of Napoleon complex mixed with a heavy dose of light aint right and a few other potentially crippling mental afflictions. He was every's one best friend and he was our group mascot until the day he transition due to complication from A.I.D.S. He now holds the distinction of being the first and other member of my childhood 'gang' to pass from that horrible malady. I can not wrap my thoughts around what happened to him those many years ago and I still struggle to wrap my thoughts around those who suffer from it. My brother-in-law transitioned this pass weekend after a long battle. I still don't know what to think...or how to think about these two disparate but tangentially related deaths. They are related by proximity to me and by the virus that attacked and decimated their bodies. Violently and savagely destroyed their organs and broke down their will to fight back. days before the latest death, my childhood friend, "Son" was killed the familiar way, the way i have grown accustomed to. The way that makes sense to me in a ridiculous, macabre sensibility. He was gunned down...that phrase also struck me as odd...'gunned down'. what does that mean?  How about he was shot multiple times with a handgun that was part missile launcher? That is what happened. This 40 year old man was murdered in the garage of his motorcycle club by presumably another Black man. I only say presumably because the police have not confirmed. That doesn't matter to me right now, that he was murdered doesn't even matter to me. What can I do in my position about any of these premature deaths? I read something a student of mine just wrote and he used the term  "escapism".  I thought long and (somewhat) hard about that and how he used it and how it meant something totally different to me than to him. Or so I thought. He escaped to our people while I have been trying to escape from our people for a long time. Then the more I thought about it the more I realized that we did have the same meaning as I wasn't really trying to escape from- but trying to escape what has been done to us, over and over again. Black Death has been a constant in my life and I have learned from it as I have tried to keep it at arms length. I have done this by detaching my emotions and feelings from my people. I have detach myself from living...from feeling and even from fully loving. I have to learn how to love all over again and I have to embrace life while acknowledging Death. ...................................................................................................