While tthe Illuminati is plotting it's new real estate interests in Haiti,
and it's positions of neocolonial power in Africa, to pay back debts owed to China, as our communities are being regentrified, and homes taken from Black by eminant domain, and more and more plots occur,
how is it that thedecendants of thecreators of civilization have the time to be engaged in the same old pity parties and rhetoric folks werewrangling about in the 70s as though they knew more then Elijah Muhammed, and as if there was something more to say then what he said in
Thew Message to the Black Man?
has rhetoric and pity parties become the new opiate of the masses?
where is our creativity?
there is a story about this kind of stagnation;
ONCE upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter, and she was courted by a gentleman.
Every evening he used to come and see her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used to be sent down into the cellar to draw the beer for supper.
So one evening she was gone down to draw the beer, and she happened to look up at the ceiling while she was drawing, and she saw an axe stuck into one of the beams.
It must have been there a long, long time,
but somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began a-thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that axe there, for she said to herself:
"Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to draw the beer,
like as I'm doing now, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!" And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself down and began a-crying.
Well, they began to wonder upstairs how it was that she was so long drawing the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she found her sitting on the setluss crying, and the beer running over the floor.
"Why whatever is the matter?" said her mother. "Oh, mother!" says she, "look at that horrid axe! Suppose we was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to the cellar to draw the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!"
"Dear, dear! what a dreadful thing it would be!" said the mother, and she sat her down aside of the daughter and started a-crying too.
Then after a bit the father began to wonder that they didn't come back, and he went down into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat a-crying, and the beer running all over the floor. "Whatever is the matter?" says he. "Why," says the mother, "look at that horrid axe. Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up. and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!"
"Dear, dear, dear! so it would!" said the father, and he sat himself down aside of the other two, and started a-crying.
Now the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself, and at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were after;
and there they three sat a-crying side by side, and the beer running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap. Then he said: "Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and letting the beer run all over the floor?" "Oh!" says the father, "look at that horrid axe! Suppose you and our daughter was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him!" And then they all started a-crying worse than
before. But the gentleman burst out a-laughing, an reached up and pulled out the axe, and then he said: "I've travelled many miles, and I never met three such big sillies as you three before; and now I shall start out on my travels again, and when I can find three bigger sillies than you three, then I'll come back and marry your daughter. So he wished them good-bye, and started off on his travels, and left them all crying because the girl had lost her sweetheart.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/efft/efft71.htm
and it's positions of neocolonial power in Africa, to pay back debts owed to China, as our communities are being regentrified, and homes taken from Black by eminant domain, and more and more plots occur,
how is it that thedecendants of thecreators of civilization have the time to be engaged in the same old pity parties and rhetoric folks werewrangling about in the 70s as though they knew more then Elijah Muhammed, and as if there was something more to say then what he said in
Thew Message to the Black Man?
has rhetoric and pity parties become the new opiate of the masses?
where is our creativity?
there is a story about this kind of stagnation;
ONCE upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter, and she was courted by a gentleman.
Every evening he used to come and see her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used to be sent down into the cellar to draw the beer for supper.
So one evening she was gone down to draw the beer, and she happened to look up at the ceiling while she was drawing, and she saw an axe stuck into one of the beams.
It must have been there a long, long time,
but somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began a-thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that axe there, for she said to herself:
"Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to draw the beer,
like as I'm doing now, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!" And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself down and began a-crying.
Well, they began to wonder upstairs how it was that she was so long drawing the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she found her sitting on the setluss crying, and the beer running over the floor.
"Why whatever is the matter?" said her mother. "Oh, mother!" says she, "look at that horrid axe! Suppose we was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to the cellar to draw the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!"
"Dear, dear! what a dreadful thing it would be!" said the mother, and she sat her down aside of the daughter and started a-crying too.
Then after a bit the father began to wonder that they didn't come back, and he went down into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat a-crying, and the beer running all over the floor. "Whatever is the matter?" says he. "Why," says the mother, "look at that horrid axe. Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up. and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!"
"Dear, dear, dear! so it would!" said the father, and he sat himself down aside of the other two, and started a-crying.
Now the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself, and at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were after;
and there they three sat a-crying side by side, and the beer running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap. Then he said: "Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and letting the beer run all over the floor?" "Oh!" says the father, "look at that horrid axe! Suppose you and our daughter was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him!" And then they all started a-crying worse than
before. But the gentleman burst out a-laughing, an reached up and pulled out the axe, and then he said: "I've travelled many miles, and I never met three such big sillies as you three before; and now I shall start out on my travels again, and when I can find three bigger sillies than you three, then I'll come back and marry your daughter. So he wished them good-bye, and started off on his travels, and left them all crying because the girl had lost her sweetheart.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/efft/efft71.htm