One lock, guiness, wind and fire

So a venture was made to SOnotheque to peep Saul Williams and Jean Grae do something with that crazy dj booth they book some of the illest artists I've ever heard of all the time at. Too bad they didn't post anywhere that it was 7$ to get in, I only happened to have 5 on me and there wasn't an ATM within non-getting a cold from walking too many blocks away. Then when I found one, Osco was closed. I had to ask the CTA guy to let me back on the el and he, noticing my hand-me-down CTA sweater, asked if I worked for the CTA. "Used too" I lied. "Hell Nah. Man, just hop the gate, man." "Thanks" and I was ony my way back to the lab, perhaps a different spot, Leila Jane's, where a buddy was playing on wednesdays and some fridays; some dope jazz shit. Always good to hear Jacob.
Turns out he wasn't playing so I said F it. Met this kid Eko on the el but waited too long to offer him a mixplate. Oh yeah! If anyone actaully reads this thing and wants a dijilog the dishwasher mixplate hot from the OSMoS clean kitchen, just email me jrhtyhm@hotmail.com. 5$ plus shipping for one hell of a package, let me tell ya. Ain't no corner cuttin here son. First of all, it is called Bang's Bigger Bro. vol. 1 and it IS a dijiLOG provelopment that OSMiC Presents... a continuous mix of 12 all-original bangers from Chicago's finest beat-artists: Blackdaylight, Goathead, and your's truly scrubbed and purified by the dishwasha's capable cleansings and added on with scratching and rhyming from the AQ one-man squad I am:) Soon to be accompanied by a visual stream of artistry displaying the other half of my AQ, graf arts ish and video of my humble be-boying forms.
I must be a boy as long as I can. I'm not in a hurry to be a man, man. I know I already am but when I stand back and scan the map of what I was, am , and will be. I'm still a wee bit far from what I-n-i really be. Be like a child, beginner's mild intensity eventually defiles empires that took centuries to build but these styles will still live and breath as honored ancestors, skills inherited recieved by the blessers, now us blessees must blasphemize the transgressors. The settling for less than Earth health man aggressors. The devil in the details of capitalcommunistic man oppressors. The level of Ham, Sham, and Ishmael's present day manifestors.
My objection is to the over-objectification of our soular saturation , taking men for granted when we are the stewards of a pure, perfect planet. Solarization is demanded. A mandate than man makes to represent the non-man-made, those banished to obscurity in light of mankinds supposed purity. Ran game and now we're sure to recieve the same damn thing in return for what we've claimed. Man ain't the same as God, we're just equals at odds, even though the heart only throbs with Jah's nod of approval. I consciously dislodge differentiation between the inner and the outter, through the skull, shimmers shades of HIM.
Knowledge is power. Now that you're aware of the always already there, how the FUCK can a preacher tell you where heavin is and how to get here?! Now is not an option time to stop being scared. BOO! WHo the FUCK ARE YOU?!?!
You're shadow pushed the lightspot into our point of view. Adjust the hue, smooth focus and steady muscles hold the image true. But what are you? N the I verse the All but you knew you already lost when the cause isn't allah the Kosmos, the cost is not all is not all lost but it's getting close. Follow the hosts of the holocausts and you start to feel like a foot's shadow swallowed roach tossed into a battle of hope vs. towel tossed loathe.
Fearing OMEGAS approach, Vega's poke at La Streetfighters bent on going broke betting boats. It's all a game until the heat of the fire starts to roast. The ball bounces from out to in frozen moments start to blend when evaporation takes the chosen up to heaven. Float with the reverent. Show some reverence for the precedent set for men. Then and only then can we further our development. But then develop man!
Don't set up and lamp, puffin procrastination and channel changing nothing engagements. Partake in Creation. Get enveloped in the whims of the way and... stuff seems vacant, but full of emptiness's multiplication leading to spontaneous rushes of living blissfullumination. We choose our pace but in the stead of timeless space bifurcations split consciousness contraints, we head in the opposite direction of dumb waits. Strength attained on the risk of rungs that break when strained by the practice of nothing ventured, nothing gained. Lists go on of the paradoxical wrongs that give us the right to aim beyond pro and con, it's illogical. I still watch it though.
Can't stop the flow. Jæzi gotta go so peace for the milisecond, I'll be back to kill death again before you know. peace is the fearless weapon.
l

Awakened frustrated lover

I hope the good people are keeping good tabs on blogs. It's a good cause. I suppose. I get a little too let inny but it's no different than my music. THat's the line I guess I'm voluntarily crossing in some vain attempt at recognition for my creative gifts. I mean music is a gift and so is writing, or any artform, I don't bullshit when it comes to gratitude for this vessel of culture. All praise due.

Breaking always makes me feel better. It's more amplified than Yoga but it is the same. Stretching is crucial, in fact traditional yoga definately conditions the body for the more aerobic and intense movements of b-boying. I think girls have a built-in advantage in this domain because their bodies seem more naturally limber and succulent, I mean supple :P hehe I love me some b-girls, hooooot daaaam. hehehe

But yeah, that gets into some tantric b-movements, fuck yeah. I need an androgynous b- term for the action of it and I now distinguish breaking from the b- domain because I've heard breakers say they are NOT dancers, they are BREAKERS (this from a very battle-hungry make-up wearer, hair gel spiker) So, you know, I figure b-boys dance though so I conciously discern between these types of breaker/break-dancer people, of which I just be. It is definately dancing to me. This shit is BASED on music, though yes, it is a physical battle, that came later, so at its root, the art is an integral level of physical movement that stemmed from and incorporates swing dance, james brown-isms, and every other potential ingredient in the various methods of b-movement from uprock, pop-n-locking, to downrock and power moves, which often derive from gymnastic or martial arts forms.

It's all fair game on the battlefloor, that's what I love about it. If it looks dope, on beat or just physically amazing in and of itself, it has the capacity to render the crowd shocked and awed into applause. The art of the battle is also very deep between the forces that cross paths on the earth element of Hiphop. The psychology plays an almost more important role than the physical performance because you have to be a total catalyst of the moment to win the most attention and downplay your opponents ability to garner it away from you. A subtle awareness of this moment gives the advantage over those who would become victim of clever misdirection. For example, a b-boy might not realize it's an opponent escorting them back to their side right when the trickster flips and calls him out it. Tally point, you know, ding! Dude made you look silly, good for him, you should have been more aware.

Regardless of what judges say, the crowd and the b-boys themselves determine the winners in a natural expression of raw creative talent energy. I mean, the b-boys will give it up to the judges for the sake of fairness, but in the end, it's the abilities and self confidence that guide everything. I've seen a couple questionable calls from judges, but I resepect their difference of opinion. I also feel that strong consideration of the overall combination should emphasize crowd participation and resoponce as determinate factors of achievement. I also happen to think that style and rhythmical flair are what attract as much if not more good attention than very powerful displays of flexibility and control. Style and edge, are the improvisational equivilent in b-movement as voice is to instrumentation. Melody with no voice or character doesn't move the listener, for example, the handshake squeeksqueeeeeeeekeeeee buzzzzzsssh of fax machines and analog modems. Actually a favorite of my wierd ass but that's dijilog.

Energy cause movement, and physical energy is guided by mental or conscious energy becuase the mind transcends and includes the body. Of course it's not a one way street, but I do believe that the Kosmic slop of the universe is of a finer resolution, obviously, than the physical domain, and the spectrum of manifest form gradates infinitely between the most complex configurations of partitioned bits of the Kosmos and the radically empty, formless, source. Completely interwoven, the gaps are of a plentitude decree. God needed we, to be. Interdependant Being constructs adventuring about in the infinite possibilities of imagination, and Kosmic Consciousness.

Sorry to dream awake again and document my mind at 5:26 AM. Whoever reads this has to be tired of me now. But rest assured, I am that I am, variety. hehe

PEACE

djilog seeks sponsorship

Enough pseudo intellectual speculative non-sense. I need some cash! So November was the big, let's try teaching at the local youth center for free at first, hoping I'll get an offer for a paid position, "plan". Not exactly working out that way, but then again, what does?

I'm in the midst of releasing a mix cd of all original content from me and two of my cohorts in crunk banging crime, but will it ever make dividends? Who knows? It appears that my creativity in it's current state is not worth a whole lot in the marketplace. We'll see. Perhaps trying to retain the highest degree of autonomy is what's costing me. Perhaps I need to let fly my egoic notions that I must be in control of my own destiny and grab the closest soul-selling contract made available by whatever strand of the monoCorp that see's me as succulent prey for their predatorial ways. Then at least, I'd get paid and have trees to blaze. Anyways. There are many ways, hustles, crafts, etc. I just need to get a nice lucrative one to support my musical lifestyle. I just can't get into pimping my music yet. I haven't found the right balance. IT doesn't seem like the raw natural energy I cultivate in this art world will be deemed something of worth to the majority of the buying public.

So any intelligent reader will have no-doubt acertained: I'm doing the self-fulfilling prophecies again. I need to shut the fuck up and put my shit out. I am. Looking for the best deal on cd duplication. I want my shit on wax but have no idea how. I think maybe, I need to contact Hefty again. That seemed like an in. John has experience releasing all that shit, wax, cd's, itunes, but it seemed like he wasn't really feeling my tunes. That was mildly heartbreaking. I mean, after following their progress for years, I thought I was in synch with their general thrust of innovative electronic/organic directions. *sigh*

My shit is dope. I know that. It's not fully realized though... my achilles heal: half-assedness. Oh well, let me go break my frustration on the wooden tiles of community Hiphopism.