a three-part dream I had involving police and black guys and a girl probably named Jenese

I was on a college campus among scattered groups of mostly black guys, all facing police officers on a street. There was at least one police car, probably two or three, and at least three officers, probably four or more, standing nearby. They were, or one of them was, yelling for us to go away. “Get away from here,” they may have phrased it, “I’m telling you for your own good; go home or you’re all going to jail.” It was probably an empty threat; it seemed unlikely for them to jail all of us for standing in silence; but the possibility of being taken to jail, or shot dead by a trigger-happy cop, did make me want to leave. I stayed though, with all the other protestors, as I assumed the police were waiting for backup officers to arrive.

I was riding on what seemed to be a high-speed Segway. I don’t know what city I was in, possibly Detroit, but it was in a state of anarchy. There were widespread riots happening by mostly young black males with no police anywhere to be found. Not that I was looking for any as I rolled up or down a relatively empty street, a two-way street, that was normally busy with traffic. Suddenly I saw a big black guy, imagine Kimbo Slice, coming on the opposite lane, riding a Segway of his own. He was holding a big black gun, probably some sort of assault rifle, in one hand. I feared he would shoot me, or at least rob me of my Segway, as I rolled by with a stupid smile on my face, but he just looked at me and saluted as we passed.

I was in a building for young football players, probably part of a university. It wasn’t for housing, at least not the floor I was on; it looked more like a place for them to turn in paper work, talk with psychologists and stuff like that. Whatever it was, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, so I made myself invisible as I had the magical ability to do, by blending in with floors and furniture. At one point, I awoke on a couch to the sound of a girl jokingly telling me that it was “time” to give her a massage, or vice versa. It was a girl I knew; Jenese Harris, it looked like. We laughed as she got onto the couch or bed, where I briefly and inadvertently fondled her bare feet, before engaging in a friendly conversation.

2016 ( December 07 )

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on FacebookShare on Google+

audio review : Edutainment ( album ) … Boogie Down Productions

audio review : Edutainment ( album ) ... Boogie Down Productions

Boogie Down Productions isn’t about making you dance. It’s about providing knowledge, the kind that centers around uplifting the black race. It’s stuff you must learn, no matter what color you are, but you won’t learn about it in that boring history class with the old white teacher, so it’s up to KRS-One; a “Teacha” in his own right; to put the equivalent of a book in your head. He does that with rap music, which, as the title cleverly suggests, educates and entertains.

The album is enveloped around a college lecture. “Black people have created every music you hear out here in the street today,” he claims. Even if you don’t subscribe to his ideology, which would border racism itself if not for a song that explains he’s not just a “black man speaking out of ignorance”, you can’t deny the quality of the music. The rhymes are thoughtful and the beats; the Breath Control sequel, a reggae joint, being the best among them; are funky-fresh all the way.

my rating = 4 of 5

1990

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on FacebookShare on Google+