Giant Slayer

Goliath came crashing to the ground.
Done in by carelessness.
Allowing the simpleton to see his weak spot.

To Earth the giant comes tumbling, pulled by gravity to the floor.
Laying on the dirt exposed.

I am invincible!’
He screams.
The words proven false by the stark reality.

David has won.
The tiny solider now a giant slayer.
The vulnerable giant he has no where to turn.
No where to run.

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True Blue Girl

These are the moments in our lives where we dare challenge the dawn.
Where we twirl and dance in the shimming moonlight.
We walk the path to arrive at this destination.
In the far east under the twinkle of the stars.
These previous few moments where we can all be together.
Its memory in our hearts for eternity.
Cherish them.
Spin sweet girl. Spin your hearts content.

Concerning Flight | Project Endeavour

Endeavour to try to achieve. From the latin dēbēre – to owe, to pay duty.

Charles Barkley, basketball player has said the following on news radio

“We as black people are never going to be successful, not because of you white people, but because of other black people. When you are black, you have to deal with so much crap in your life from other black people. If you go to school, get good grades, speak intelligent, and don’t break the law, you are not a good black person. There are a lot of black people who are unintelligent, who don’t have success––it’s best to knock a successful black person down if they’re intelligent, they speak well, they do well in school, and they’re successful.”

http://philadelphia.cbslocal.com/2014/10/27/charles-barkley-rants-about-unintelligible-black-people-on-94wip/

There is no colour in space (Vulture, 2014), in reference to the upcoming film Interstellar, featuring an all white cast.

http://www.vulture.com/2014/10/interstellar-magazine-covers-christopher-nolan.html

Minorities face several barriers from several walks of life, not just from their in group.  However, we can break through our stereotypes and the borders that exist between us.

From the antiquity period, people have been looking to the stars for answers to worldly questions.  Polaris, the North Star, has guided people north from all walks of life. Sailors, refugees, explorers have travelled by this light.  Regardless of the individual’s ethnicity, socioeconomic standing or choice in music can stop them from using its illumination.

This project is named after Doctor Mae Carol Jemison, the first women of colour to go to space aboard the spacecraft Endeavour. As a little girl, Ms. Jemison states that she always envisioned herself in the far reaches of space.  Jemison was inspired by the fictional character Uhura Nyota of the original Star Trek. Uhura’s name is derived from the Swahili word for freedom.

We have a personal responsibility to become more then what we are. This project will take flight and it is my hope in the spirit of collaboration that together we can create something beautiful.

At York University, we were often encouraged to break down the barriers that exist between disciplines to arrive at a more concrete solution.  Continuing in its direction, project Endeavour is a place where ideas can take flight.  Where artists from disciplines who normally may not work together can be facilitated by technology.

The idea is simple. Art for art’s sake. Writing for the love of words.  Visuals just for the eyes.

Because Together we are Glorious, I ask for nothing more.

Sepulture

The devil calls to pull you into his purgatory. Like Pavlov’s dog you salivate for the sin in his flesh. Aware the time is borrowed and you will be discarded. Thrown into disharmony.

Your former clarity of control is fractured; replaced by the realization of false consciousness.

In the the attempt to break the seal your being was replaced with nothingness. The thing that lies behind the door is the abyss.

The only thing that is clear is the excruciating truth that this love is unrequited. That you are an object to be used in servitude. That there is no exit to this crisis.

RIP.

Colonized Psyches | Through a Mother’s Eyes by Robin Bond

Colonized Psyches | Through a Mother’s Eyes by Robin Bond | Collaborators – Editor Sam Brown, Title Craig Herbert

Walking down the street, I held my daughter Ryan’s hand. She looked at my arm, then at hers, and told me that she didn’t like her colour. She wanted to be mine.

It didn’t really surprise me when she said it; she had mentioned it a few times before. She’s also told me she wants green eyes and hates her gorgeous, nearly blonde curls that most women would die for.

I’ve told her so many times how I used to tan my pale skin darker, destroy my hair with styling products and hot curlers to have what she came by naturally. I have longed for the clear depth of her chestnut eyes in my own dull emerald.

This moment though, was especially sad for me. I’ve had the privilege of growing up white and never really understood the implications of that.  I have, in the past, argued many times that there is no privilege and that these days everyone is viewed equally.

Then, my light skinned, blond-highlighted, curly haired, chestnut eyed mixed children went to school and my viewpoint changed.

I have never understood how such an insanely intelligent and gorgeous girl could have so many doubts about her looks at only 5 years old.

Finally, we reached the park.

A mass of children of every race and ethnicity were playing. From amidst all of this, my son Michael walks off the soccer field in tears. His brown skinned friend explains hastily that Mikey had accidentally tripped a boy while playing, and the child reacted with anger.

‘He’s saying the n word and f word to Mikey’ he explains.

‘Like THE n word?’ I asked, confused.

He says yes, acknowledging that I knew exactly which word he’s referring to.

How ignorant was I for thinking that my mixred children would have it as easy as I did.  How Inconsiderate of me to compartmentalize Ryan’s insecurities by focusing on tanning beds and curling irons.

I have to ask this question;

Why is Ryan convinced that pale skin, blonde hair and green or blue eyes is the answer? Why isn’t she saying “Mom, why can’t I just be Korean?” or, “I wish my hair was darker or shorter?” or, “Why can’t I have Daddy’s skin colour?”

Here’s Why—

White Privilege.

The cultural curse that says you aren’t beautiful because your skin is tinged with darkness; the inherited prejudice that tells children to hate themselves because they aren’t that “ideal” colouring.

Kids see it and—more importantly—they feel it. The most innocent and naive creatures in this world see this shit and respond with self-loathing.  How are we so stupid? How can we let a single image of beauty or “normalcy” create so much pain? How can we pretend white privilege doesn’t exist?

I told Mikey this morning before school that if anyone ever refers to him as the ‘n’ word to say

‘Sure, maybe I am? That’s what they called my great-great-great grand and gram too. Only stupid people think a single word can conquer someone. It’s just a word, made up by people who were so ignorant they didn’t know how to farm, cook or even nurse their own babies. They used that word to make other people do it all for them.’

Ryan will be a lot harder. She’s only five years on this earth, and a lifetime of ancestral grief trickles through her, damaging her barely formed self-image.

I can’t change the world’s view on what beauty is, but damn do we have it twisted.

The only thing that keeps changing is my hairline.

I keep waiting to get older but it never happens. It’s like waiting for Gadot.

If I could tell my younger self one thing is that progress is not linear. I walk to the beat of my own crazy ‘kicked out of Sneeky Dee’s’ drum. I woke up on Sunday morning in a boy’s bed, headphones gone and my bag rammed full of candy. If this is the middle act it’s going to be one seriously strange ending.

Signed/
A former manic pixie dream boy

Post Script:

A cute boy says he’s making me a cake. Fingers crossed that he can ACTUALLY bake. And people know you don’t fuck around with a man’s cake.

Update: The cake was awesome.