Cynique

Well, Troy, to believe in predestination implies that everything happens for a reason and that a higher power is in charge, manipulating events . What's more of a story designed to placate people than that? Attributing everything to god's will or to a scientific principle can be a rationale or a postulation that is assumed to be right, but whatever the explanation, it is man-made. Randomness would not apply to the conditions you put on a person dropping an egg. An experiment is not random. You could impulsively throw the egg and spontaneous outside factors that could not be measured or pinpointed because they disappeared could have an inexplicable effect on the splatter. No, the result of a decision cannot be predicted accurately because anything could happen in life's state of flux. But whatever decision one makes, the outcome may or may not be different from the outcome of your having made another decision. Randomness is random.

What is it I am I giving James Patterson too much credit for, NAH? Suggesting that he's more accomplished than Walter Moseley? No. I singled out the opportunistic Patterson because he was savvy enough to broaden his audience, increase his sales and command the support of his publisher, by infringing on an audience that should belong to a black writer. Walter Moseley doesn't need a rival. James Patterson does. And I don't think any black author, including Moseley, would reject "crossover" success. Not only does it mean more money but it also frees them from the restrictions of being labeled a "black" author instead of simply an author, a status black writers are constantly wishing for and complaining about.

Yep, music is the universal language and has all kinds of healing proprerties and emotional power and sexual stimulation and galvanizing energy. Back in the day, Blacks frequently joked about one or another of their kids being an "Isley Brothers' baby". The sensual, suggestive music of this group provided great background for "between the sheets" activity.

Why do you think I titled this thread "a wish list for black authors"? Black authors are relegated to wishing they had all of the advantages of white ones. James Patterson is an example of someone who capitalizes off of what blacks can only wish for. crossover success.

I agree that the stars influence your potential. But I believe that the decisions your free will allow you to make, determine your fate. We are like time travelers and the future like a road map that branches out into many paths. Whichever path you decide to take, will lead you to what awaits at a station along your life's journey A different set of circumstances come with each decision. And the option is yours. I don't really agree that life is predestined rather than random, that a useless person like say, Nicole Richie, is supposed to be leading a life of luxury and ease, or that 20 little first graders were supposed to be shot down in their classroom.

1. the advent of the self-publishing boom. 2. the emergence of the street lit popularity 3. the rise of the e-book venue. The impact of all of this has changed the state of the black publishing community. It has become profit driven and the only hope seems to lie in the possibility that the cream will eventually rise to the top, and that this will be appreciated by the book buying public.But it is still a big publisher's market, not an independent writer's one. IMO.

I didn't know TuPac either, Troy. But my bad impression of him is apparently the one he took great pride in projecting: that of a violent misogynistic thug. Yeah, we know he had his defenders and he was good to his mommy but we are all swell people in the eyes of our pals. Outsiders, however, aren't so convinced that any one other than a "foul-mouth punk" would be gunned down by rival gangsters while riding in a car with that other pillar of the community, Shug Knight. It's also hard to dismiss that Pac was walking around full of bullets from a previous attempt on his life by someone else out to get him. And I would be surprised if Nikki Giovanni didn't sing TuPac's praises; He's her type of person. She's made a career off of championing "misunderstood" rebels like him, denizens of the hood, an environment they are quick to glorify. Too bad Nikki wasn't as enamouredt of the son she is estranged from.(Probably because she wouldn't ever reveal who his father was.) Jada Pinket is who I specifically recall saying that although she mourned TuPac, at the time of his death they had stopped speaking because he had become so outrageous in his behavior. And what does everybody's most unfavorite rapper Puffy think of his fellow hip-hopper? Probably not much more than Janet Jackson who requested that TuPac take an AIDS test before playing opposite of her in the movie they starred in. A real vote of confidence. I'm not saying that TuPac was any worse than other rappers, but I just get tired of death turning flawed people into sacro-sanct martyrs. Yet even before TuPac's death, for some reason, I never liked the little squirt who appeared to have had a Napoleonic complex. It occurred to me that mention might have been made about women rappers in the first video posted which I confess to not watching. I just can't suffer through long videos unless they're about a subject that I'm intensely interested in. ( I think In my old age that I"ve developed a short attention span.) I just jumped into this thread to bug you rap groupies who really should be more discriminating when it comes to who you hold in high esteem.

"Something from nothing" is an apt headline for this thread. To me, Rap would certainly be an example of an existing entity waiting to be born via inspiration. It's like it just spontaneously combusted, channeled into existence and energized by the artistry of spoken word artists spurred to start spitting out staccatto rhymes that were eventually accompanied by beats. I've always been fascinated with the evolution of Rap, and how easily certain people could master its vocal challenges and create its clever lyrics. Now, a generation later, it's no longer a special skill; any young person can rap. It's like how all young Hawaiian girls can just naturally do the hula. I think a throw-back to African griots is also a part of the rap equation. Havin said all that, I would be remiss if I didn't diss all you men snubbing others who are candidates for the rap hall of fame; namely the women trailblazers like Salt 'N Pepa who infused the genre with playful seductiveness, never compromising the technique and dynamics associated with the execution of Rap. Kudos to them! Today the black community is saturated with Rap music and like every other black thing that starts out with great potential, it has degenerated into negativity, making thugs millionaires. and baby mamas a female culture. All human life may have sprung from Africa, but for some unfathomable reason, the first became last... Who gves a damn about the Moors or TuPac? I don't. Othello, the Moor of Shakespeare fame, married a white woman and was manipulated by Iago, his white friend. TuPac was a foul-mouthed punk. Who needs these role models??

I don't know why anybody would want to hear about my siblings, Troy, but - since things are a little slow... I had 1 brother and 2 sisters. I was the spoiled baby of the family and a real brat, I'm told. In the small town where we grew up, my sisters were considered 2 of the prettiest girls in the black community. One was very vivacious and the other quite reserved. Between them they had only one child and it always saddened me that they had grown old alone, the victims of unhappy marriages. The younger was only 60 when she died in 1988, the other 77 when she passed in 2001. The childless one, who died at 77, had a small circle of friends, but she traveled a lot after she retired, just to have something to do. Because she lived in Chicago, and I didn't, we kept in touch mostly by phone since I was always so busy leading my own life, married, raising 5 kids and working full time . But she would always drive out on holidays to spend them with me and my family, - her demeanor always pleasant, - but wistful. When she died suddenly, I had to go try and gather up all of her papers, hoping to find an insurance policy to take care of her burial expenses. This was when I came across several old bank books. The first bank I went to, I was prepared to do a lot of explaining and present all kinds of proof and identification in order to see if there were any available funds. The bank officer was pulling my sister's records up on the computer all the time I was babbling away. Finally she wrote down a figure on a slip of paper and handed it to me, saying no explanations were necessary, that I was the sole beneficiary on the account. I was speechless when I looked down at the number she had written. $72, 000. It was the same at all of the other banks. $25, 000 here, $23,000 there, $6,000 in another one and $43,000 at the final one. All left for me, including $23,000 worth of savings bonds, a $10,000 CD and 2 small insurance policies found in her safety deposity box along with $500 in cash. I felt so ashamed and contrite that I had not reached out more to the big sister who was always so gentle and kind to me. All I could do was cry. To ease my guilt, I wrote the most fitting obituary I could compose, brought her a beautiful casket and a large headstone, and gave a lot of the money away because I didn't think I deserved it. Ironically 12 years later, most of it is gone, eaten up by financial set-backs. When my widowed brother who was also childless, was dying, he joked with me, saying he was sure glad that my parents had had me late in life or there wouldn't have been anyone around to write great obituaries for him and my sisters or "put us away" so well. When he passed at the age of 86 in 2008, I discovered that all the thousands I had given him from the money left me by our sister, had been deposited in a bank account, left untouched. The beneficiary? Me. During World War II, my brother served in the Navy, and was a member of an elite group who qualified to serve aboard the USS Mason, the only American ship with an all-black crew. These young seamen gave a good accounting of themselves, seeing action in the North Atlantic against the Germans. In 1995 the surving members were invited to Washington by President Clinton to belatedly receive recognition for their bravery and were presented with special medals by the Secretary of the Navy. When he died, the glowing obituary I wrote for my brother included all of this. I bought him a fine casket, but at his request, he was buried in a veterans cemetery, in the navy section, his marker the tradional head stone with just his name, rank and serial number. I miss my brother and sisters and think about them all the time, something I wish I'd done more of when they were alive. That's life.

Thanks a lot, Delano! I'm trying to make it to 80, guy, and you're telling me you don't see anything in my future.??? Oh well... You cast me as more charitable and compassionate than I am. I'm someone who would rather make a donation than volunteer to help with things. I'm lazy. Nor am I empathetic because I'm rather hyper-critical. I don't do any nice things behind the scenes, either. The only people I really help are my kids and grandkids and they hear about it very loudly when I do this. I do feel that I have an inner child who did stupid things when I was younger. My higher self is quite sensible and stern and then there's my playful seductive side. Also, my face is not symmetrical. One side looks different from the other. But then, I am ambi-dextrous.

Hummm. Veeery Interesting. My 2 older kids were probably class mates of the threesome in question. Most of the Italians who went to this high school lived in Melrose Park, a town that borders Maywood, and was like a little Italy. If a student had an Italian surname, you knew what to expect when it came to their appearance. They would be olive-complexioned and dark-haired. . Back during the time I went to this school, there was one notable exception. The star quarter back of the football team was blond and blue-eyed but was an Italian from southern Italy. The Italians tended to distance themselves from the Sicilians because Sicily was the home of the Black Hand society or - The Mafia and they were a tougher breed. When I went to my 25 year class reunion, there was a large contingency of the Italian alums, and a lot of the paisanos, who were then middle-aged, looked like mobsters. They all had on black suits and black shirts and white ties, smoking cigars and drinking Scotch and casting shady glances at the Blacks in their Afros and bell bottoms. But before the night was over, as the alchohol flowed, a good time was had by all. There were also Jewish guys who I went to school with who had nappy hair, as Semites sometimes do.

Well, all of my siblings are dead. They were all older than me, and the last one died in 2008. It seems to me that you could deduce a lot of what you said by simply observing how I comport myself on this forum. But I guess you used those cues in verbalizing what my astrological chart revealed. Accurate? A little. I'd describe myself as a passive-aggressive person. I'm laid back and I am not really a social activist or a rebel but I am argumentive and opinionated. I don't feel guilty about having more than others because I don't -. I'm very low maintenance and can do without a lot of superficial trappings. I am a people watcher, and my first impression of a person is based on both their body language and their spoken language. I appreciate serenity and articulateness and I particularly like wry wit, the kind often found in self-depricating people who are usually the ones who have the most going for themselves. At my age, when it comes to life, I've pretty much been there, done that which is why I so cynical, and why my mantra is: "the more things change, the more they become the same." Thanks for the reading. It was interesting and I'm open to any more feed back you care to give.

Delano, are you named after Franklin Delano Roosevelt, - the man who was the president for the first 12 years of my life, back when there were no term limits on the office? Just curious. What I meant in my reply was that my "reaction" to a criticism can sometimes "inspire" me to retort. In using an appropriate adjective to describe something or someone, Pioneer, I don't think I'm trying to be erudite, I think I'm succeeding.

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I wish Writergirl and Mzuri and Waterstar would re-surface. I'm want to interact with some women, even if it means having a cat fight. Men are so predictable that, after a while...... Wonder what ever happened to Crystal? She was always good for a book review. And where is Kola Boof when you need her?

Depends on whether you equate a reaction with an inspiration. How about you, Delano. Are you inspired by criticism?

I dont know what could be any more personal than me having to give my date of birth. I was born during the Depression as you can see, at home because my parents couldn't afford a hospital. I don't have anything to hide. And I'm familiar with my family history, so bring it on. First 3 words: Health and wealth

OK, Delano. August 18th, 1933 @1:20 PM, in a town about 20 miles west of Chicago.

Giving the Latin root of a word, doesn't prove anything, except that the person doing this is trying to be erudite. It can also be postulated in English that inspiration comes from a combination of things; inside and out. An idea may already exist, but In order for it to manifest itself in reality, the mind must tap into it. If that doesn't occur, then neither will inspiration.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Pioneer, you hold yourself to a different set of rules than you do others and are quick to come up with a rationale to justify your vacillating. I can't draw what I want from different philosophical tenets, but you can pick and choose what you agree with when it comes to people like Bill Maher who you are a "semi fan" of. I rest my case. It's funny Troy, ideas and theories have always come to me - from out of nowhere. When I was younger, I thought I had reached conclusions that others hadn't and prided myself with being an original thinker. As I got older and wiser, I realized that there were many other people who either came before me or were my contemporaries, who had explored ideas and come up with the same conclusions I did, and a lot of them wrote books and belonged to like-minded groups who'd carved a place for themselves in the annals of the Humanities. I didn't come across a certain discipline and decide I wanted to align my thinking with it. Inspirations would come to me and I'd later discover that what I arrogantly thought was an ephiphany already existed. That is probably why I have a habit of declaring things. I feel like I'm speaking a truth that has validity because it is shared by many others, and that gives it as much veracity as an opposing view.

I have had 3 readings. Or at least tried to. I wonder if I am an alien. All 3 readers commented on my aura. One said I should pursue being a psychic myself because magnetic waves seem to emanate from me. {she was a phony) Another said, my aura was blocking her thought waves and nothing was coming through. (She was a phony. ) The last one said when I came into the room, the atmosphere thickened. She said I was going to come into a lot of money (She was a phony) . Weather permitting, I regularly go out at night and commune with the stars and moon. This summer there was a lot of celestial phenomena going on. The planets were lined up in rare configurations, blue moons occurred, eclipses, the aurora borealis was kickin in. When I go out, I look up at the sky unblinkingly until my vision blurs and then I close my eyes and will myself to become one with the universe. It's like I dissolve. Me and the moon have become so intimate that I'm convinced my face has become a moon. During a 30-day period my appearance subtly changes. It's like I start out with a baby face and age gradually until the moon is full, whereupon I look much older. I'm sure this has something to do with gravity, and it might happen to everybody but they just don't notice it. This could be what gave rise to werewolf legends. I think doing has an effect on me. Sometimes positive, sometimes negative. Because I'm a lunatic, I do howl softy at the moon. I don't have a particular urge to do this, I just do it for the heck of it, - or do I ???????? OWWWWWWWWL As a Leo, I also bask in the sun but not for long because it seems to sap my strength..... What do you think, Delano?

I think we can agree on one thing, Pioneer. We could never be members of a mutual admiration society. You just don't get it. It doesn't penetrate your denseness that I am not trying to convince or convert you to my way of thinking, which you keep "explaining" even as you claim you don't know what the messsage is. It's still not getting through to you that I don't care if my spectrum of beliefs is too bright for your stagnant blind faith. Or do you seem to be aware of what should be obvious: You don't stand a snowball's chance in hell when it comes to competing with the great expanded minds of free thinkers that I revere, so you need to quit trying to lecture to me because nothing you say is accurate or informative. It's just griping and sniping. You also need to go somewhere and sit down because all of that self-serving, melo-dramatic rhetoric you're reciting is passe. Why don't you join the 21st century? Martin Luther King has become a "brand", Malcolm X the subject of biographies which dull his sheen, Marcus Garvey remains a tragic failure, the civil rights movement a dream unfufilled, the race problem still with us, and black folks worse off than ever. How's that religious thing workin out for ya, babe? And what a coincidence that you bring up the subject of fools because you could be the poster boy for the old adage about "a fool who knows not that he is a fool." I recall your mentioning not being able to find black men to have an intelligent conversation with. Maybe they just don't feel like being an audience for somebody who thinks he has a monopoly on the truth. Um, that would be you. "Pioneer", hell. How can anybody who can't see past his nose blaze a trail??? HUH HUH ? And talk about the pot calling the kettle black. How can an ego-maniac like you have the gall to diagnose anybody else's disorders? If I did suffer from multiple personalities, believe me all of them would be able to see through a wanna-be like you.

Bill Maher??? That notorious atheist who ridicules the idea of god in a "mockumentary" entitled "Religulos" available on YouTube?? Neil degrasse Tyson? An agnostic physicist who wonders about the mysteries of the universe???? What could a gelatinous disciple of "stablility" like you possibly find to tolerate about these 2, Pioneer???? I thought you advised black folks to steer clear of "crafty" men like them. I like Tyson, too. He is a staple on the Science, Discovery and National Geographic Channels, but this analogy certainly isn't original or profound. Every since I was a little girl, before Tyson was even born, I've been hearing people, myself included, advance the possibility of earthlings being to aliens, what ants or other inhuman forms of life are to us. He's at his best when he's expounding on quatum physics and worm holes and string theories.

I thought it was being objective. Any good, well-informed debater can argue either side of a question. Jazz pianist Errol Garner could accompany himself, playing a song at one tempo on one hand and at another tempo on the other hand. He was considered a musical genius.

zzzzzzzzzz. Once again you're having a field day, Pioneer, attacking the messenger because of the messages, messages you desperately try to ignore although they espouse points of view that many of the great philosophers from the renaissance period embraced, not to mention the foundling fathers of this country like Benjamin Franklin, and other great thinkers of the 20th century like Bertram Russell and Albert Einstein. You continue to chide me for not shackling myself to just one credo, reprimanding me for daring to inject a hint of sexism by making reference to your chauvinistic posturing! My, my! What a bad girl I've been! Considering your mental inertia, I really don't care whether you equate my being a free spirit with being "unstable". Doesn't bother me because I'm not seeking your approval or do I give any weight to your psycho-babble and half-truths. I don't have to justify to you what I say or provide you with explanations. If I'm "wrong", who cares? I don't. After all, to me, "wrong" is relative. I hope it will really frost your balls when I reveal that Buddhism is also a favorite on my food-for-thought menu. It's such a refreshing change from the prosyletizing of numb skulls like you who are full of themselves. The more you preach, the more I realize that you consider me a threat, a jolt to your comfort zone because your blind faith needs validation. In the peep hole of your view, I am supposed to follow your commandments and pay homage to you by embracing the herd mentality that would require me to put my brain on lock-down and put my trust into something that can't be relied upon, as evidenced by how for centuries Black people have remained entrenched at the bottom of the totem pole, praisin' de lawd for blessing them with misery. This is something you seemed to have overlooked when piously expressing concern about what "crafty people" are doing to unsuspecting Blacks who have so blatantly been forsaken by the "creator" you worship.. From the cracked pedestal you've placed yourself on, you can continue to try and portray me as a confused, troubled soul in need of your blubbering consul, and I will continue to regard you as a clueless windbag who is deflated by anyone who has an open mind and enjoys speculating about the infinite possibilities of what might be...