I have come to realise that no matter how tough our exterior, how haughty our pose, how scathing our remarks, how difficult our interactions with others, there is a common thread which define us…
The need for Engagement
Some of us call it love, companionship, bonding, conversation… whatever name we assign, it is that interaction between us and others. We look for and respond accordingly to others be they partners (same or opposite sex), siblings (favourite or otherwise), off springs (grown or growing), colleagues (new or established).
The need for Respect
Whether we admit it in public or in the inner silences of our beings we want to be respected (not be publicly acknowledged and be put on shaky pedestals which put us above and the beyond the reach of others). We want to be respected for our worth, our minds, our contributions. We want to know that even if we make fools of ourselves in the execution of a task (or several tasks for that matter) there still exists a level of appreciation and respect.
1. Reconstruct his story – obliterate all traces of digital historical documentation. De-scribe his past… If there be no trace of the beginnings, there is nothing….
2. Hunt and annihilate his digital forefathers – kill the Bill Gates, Steve Jobs of his time and watch his slow and painful demise….
3. Smother the possibilities of further geniuses. Infect all digiterrans……. whizz kids, geeks ….. 21st century digiterran genocide….
4. Surround him with terran neighbours, friends, teachers ….
5. Strip him bare of all tools, connections, gadgets and toys, preserve his digital knowledge and skills, refuse him access to anything digital, drag him to the most technologically advanced community and leave him there….
In this place and time we are liberal. Yea, bondage we are reminded, does not reside here… yet we who are sightlessly led, find ourselves bound to a vision of darkness which leaves us ghostly pale. The academia (or the pretence of such) that dwells here in this dark and solemn place damns the illiterate and makes wise the fools and con artists which walk among us.
Be careful how you utter words when you are enticed to speak, for vulnerable one, the Seducer will disrobe you effortlessly and the shadows that move seductively within the walls of this place shall find you hanging, audience-less for common thieves and hypocrites to mock and for vulture to feast upon your flesh.
In this place, be not fooled by appearances. Look closer and you will see that in this Animal Farm, the Cock seems to rule the land but it is the Pussy that still breathes which rules the shrivelling cock, condemns the farm and maintains the blackness within the walls of this place.
In this place all animals are equal but we are inculcated to acknowledge that some beasts are more equal than others.
Wine and dine in the company you find yourself but tone your smile and shun the laughter. Toast with no-one for many a true word is spoken in jest and you may be toasting to your demise. Prance not here for we are clothed in the Empire’s garb.
That which is close to your heart, must remain there. Trust not your learned sibling who lies to you, and with others – he is not dangerous in this state and his thoughts will not harm you. Danger beds you if his incestuous tongue be loosed.
Stare not directly at the quickly shifting greys you see before you lest you be devoured as others were. Be not deceived for the donnette loves you not, the don sees you not and those by whom you are led shield the truth from you.
The fowl coop stinketh and chickens within lie dead and dying – damaged goods. Dare not voice this in the confines of the keepers.
I remain speechless at what I find here.
Some thing must be done to correck the situation in the writing workshop class and it most be done this year. I am shore that the lecturers them in the university has a problem teaching language which is acceptable to u n I alike. At the university ware i attending and do writing workshop many students still fails the coarse. I strongly belief that their is much more which most be done to facilitate these weak and trying students.
I am one of the fortunate 1s cos I pass the coarse and I do not have to pursuit it any more again. Some of my frens not so lucky because they have to do the coarse again another time. I would like to give some suggestion and recomendation which I think can help to make the student them write more better.
The exercises that the teacher use is very boring and is always long and is a turn-off. The lecturer mus use teaching materials that is not so boring and is interesting to the students such as writing about bembeh or good times or some thing exciting and not always the boring materials them that puts you to sleep when you go to class. . And when they mark our paper they mus give us feedback quick because that is the ondly way a student know what they did wrong and can correct there different mistake.
I conquer with some lecturers and imploor the writing workshop lecturer in particularly to consider these recomendation and begin to had air to them in there classes.
hiding cowardly behind monolithic expressions
… cowering in the boots way too large for your gutless ass
those boots will never fit you y’knowtoday I saw you
or rather the indefinable shadow of what you are
well hidden, etched in clothing
the emperor’s clothing
Hmm…you’re still in my peripheral….
With you now behind me… I don’t see you….you are out of sight.
Based on where I put your partner
I can no longer speak in the tongues of mine ancestors.
Theirs was the language of deposits, of sages on stages, spotlights and “me”
Nor can I manipulate the garble of the Google generation
for theirs is copy, cut, paste, pirates and mimicry of mindless parrots
Now it seems that I am trapped in the between…
caught in the betwix…
suspended in the middle.
Do I regress, progress,
Nay….. I speak as the hybrid….
with a new voice
the voice of the between, betwix and the voice of beyond….way beyond
I speak in the hybrid markings of middleness, not average, nor superior…
and certainly not inferior…never inferior
I speak….between, betwix and beyond!
February 10, 2011
Every time it rain ah get wet…very wet. Ah get wet in places that ah not suppose to talk about in public. Ah get wet for de rain envelope me in a tight, seductive, passionate embrace and whisper sinful delights that stir me to me innermost being.
Ah sah…every time it rain, ah feel the wetness move through mi body like a possessed spirit and it mek mi weak ….. Every time it rain, the rain become me man who move him tongue slowly over mi weakened body and hold in such a way dat me get wetter….
Every time it rain, me open up so the rain can wash me away….