Older, familiar leaders such as Rev. Jesse Jackson, Rev. Al Sharpton and NAACP Chairman Julian Bond, are under challenge by a younger generation of bloggers known by such provocative screen names as Field Negro, the freeslave and African American Political Pundit. And many of the newest struggles are being waged online."~Howard Witt-The Chicago Tribune~
Cont...Field's words: and here's the 411 On The Field. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States Raised in the house, but field certified. Jamaica is the land of my birth, but I consider myself a citizen of the world. I currently practice law in the city of "brotherly love". So, although I have a sheepskin, I am not apposed to hearing something that could put me and Mrs. Field in a cabin in the sky, and me out of this suit.
Why Did I Fire That Pistol?
They hurt me, so I had to fire back! The pain made me do it, but please let me explain.
But first, there's a saying that goes... you can't keep it, if you don't give it away. I've come to believe in that phrase. Well, although I have a few published poems, I am merely a closet writer. I consider myself more as a storyteller. I mean, I do not possess all the technical skills to consider myself a writer. My sentence structure is frequently faulty, and I couldn't tell you the difference between a dangling modifier and a prepositional phrase, yet, I love to express myself. Having said that, let me start with a true story.
Consequently, they say if you are going to write a book, you should write about something you know. Well, today I am not writing a book, however, in reference to the above phrase "give it to keep it", I have to give something away in order to keep what I've found.
Three very very short stories, which are very very true:
Second: Smooth was cool, he wasn't like the winos that everyone poked fun at. He dressed sharp and everyone wanted to be like him. People said he wasn't a junkie, but he used Narcotics. Smooth was the talk of the town... all the women loved him. I would later find out why. I wanted to be like smooth but I couldn't. I already had a family and I didn't even smoke cigarettes. One of my brothers was a state wrestling champion. He told me that he was good because he worked hard at his craft, harder than others. He got up earlier than others, sometimes at 5 AM. Nobody knew what he was doing. He did it his way. I latched onto that idea. I was young, the world was in front of me and I wanted it all. I wanted to be cool like smooth, a family man like my father, tough as my brothers and go to college. Women whispered their pleasures to me and I entertained the possibilities. Cool was in me, it had touched my soul. I was about to travel a road that I could never have imagined. No one told me, they didn't know.
Third: I entered the bank after giving the appearance of a man shoveling snow outside. Bank robbery is relatively simple, there are seldom guards. It's the escape and entrance that harbored my concerns. Customers and pedestrians are unwanted factors. After placing my shovel outside the door, I entered the bank, without saying a word I handed the tellers a large bag, suggesting they should fill it. One clerk fell to the floor, she was too scared and weak to comply. The other, with eyes widened, trembling from shock and fear, stumbled through the process. I was covered from head to toe. They couldn't tell if I was a man or a woman, white
or black. I didn't say a word, I walked out.