the three second killers

a great video of everyone's true favourite art form: martial. these guys aren't slow. enjoy. ... and this one is for all the inventors and macgyver fans out there. i really am trying to get away from video links.

seriously def poetry

i spent some time this evening watching 3hours of def poetry on comcast's ondemand (it's comcastic) so that i could catch up on the current season. i must say that it was incredibly encouraging to see such beautiful talent beaming from so many young artists. in a time when this world seems to be on a collision course with disaster, be it natural or manufactured, it is nice to find that not all youths are completely lost of the consciousness. those like dahlak braithwaite, who has braved the stage on def poetry more than once, and others like him will be the leaders and teachers when it comes time for the revolution. we will fight with brushes, pens, and photo lens. and we will win with words, dance and our own two hands. you must be the change you want to see in the world. def poetry continues to celebrate those willing to stand up for change - i, just briefly, wanted to celebrate def poetry. ps. i am aware of my recent increase of video links in posts. my only justification is that i wouldn't link to them if i didn't find them brilliant on some level.

crash

the landing was a debacle. a wintry mix of snow and ice forced a downward spiral that left me stranded and alone; cargo scattered across miles of terrain. left to spend the night wandering over seemingly familiar landscape; slowly stopping through the snow while i gathered the boxes that had once circled the sky with me. a snowy earth mirrored a heavy sky, reflecting the same moonlit glow that highlighted the clouds; illuminating each of my cavernous footsteps just enough to lead me back to the wreckage after each outing. as the snow grew brighter, now tinted with hints of orange and pink from the sky, i began the journey from my wreckage to my home, dragging what cargo i did gather on a piece of metal from the crash. arriving at what is suppose to be called home, i lugged my duffel bag and sheet metal through the door. my home had no walls, no electricity; but it was new and full of possibility. now, with walls and electricity provided i am given the opportunity to paint myself my own world. and i'm gonna. again.